The Peace of Yam Zapolski of 1582 signed on January 6 (15) between Russia and the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, which brought an end to the Livonian War, can hardly be called an occasion for national celebration. Under the treaty, Russia ceded Polotsk to Poland, as well as gave up all the gains it had made over the course of twenty years in Livonia. The treaty did not contain a single word about the Baltic cities that were occupied by Swedish troops (including Narva, which had been transferred to the Swedes in October 1582), although the tsar’s hopes of using the freed-up troops against the Swedish army were not justified. In the end, the treaty nullified all of Russia’s successes during the Livonian War.
We should not rush to accuse the Russian diplomats who were involved in these negotiations, however. Given the circumstances at the time, they did everything they could. Moreover, the conditions of the peace agreement would certainly have been much worse had it not been for the unparalleled heroism shown by the inhabitants of Pskov and the garrison under the command of governor Ivan Petrovich Shuisky during the autumn and winter of 1582.
... The summer of 1577 became the apotheosis in the reign of Ivan the Terrible. On July 13, he began a campaign against Livonia, which he intended to partition and thus decide the outcome of the war. The Livonian fortresses and garrisons, which numbered several dozen people, opened their gates one after another. On July 16, Marienhausen surrendered, on July 24 – Ludza, on July 27 – R
Desperate to take the city by storm, Batory moved to the planned siege. It did not bring the desired results, however. The royal army was decidedly unprepared for a long campaign in the fall and winter. Large losses, cold and a lack of provisions had a demoralizing effect on soldiers. Many of them went to villages in search of food. The king’s men quickly melted. It was in these circumstances that Batory left for Poland. Behind him the camp was abandoned by many nobles and hired soldiers who did not receive their money.
The defenders of Pskov also had a difficult time. Food supplies were dwindling, and the city faced a famine. The thought of surrender did not cross their minds, however. Moreover, on January 4, 1582, Shuisky undertook a major raid and nearly captured the royal camp.
It was at this moment that Russian ambassadors went to the Poles with a proposal to start peace negotiations. Originally, the Polish side demanded recognition of the rights of the Commonwealth for the whole of Livonia as well as the right to keep all of the border towns. However, at this moment from the siege camp near Pskov a letter arrived from Hetman Zamoysky who wrote that the position of army was difficult that it was unlikely to last more than eight days. After that, the Poles were immediately ready to make concessions and agreed to restore Russia's great fortresses of Velikiye Luki, Kholm and Nevel, Velizh, as well as the “outskirts of Pskov.” Of course, even after these new peace terms, Moscow’s position was difficult, although the heroism of the defenders of Pskov allowed Ivan IV to avoid final catastrophe and even “save face” to a certain degree.
In this regard, it is impossible not to recall another January date – January 8, 1570, when Ivan the Terrible arrived in Novgorod with his Oprichnina troops. What happened next is well known – the city was destroyed and looted, and thousands of its residents were executed and exiled. The unit Malyuta Skuratov alone, according to the official reports, “finished off 1,490 people.”
Taking care of the Novgorod residents, Ivan the Terrible moved on with his Oprichnina troops to Pskov where he had planned the same fate. At the last moment, however, the tsar gave up on his plans. The details of Pskov’s salvation differ depending on the source, but they all agree that Ivan met a certain holy fool on the road to Pskov. As a result, the superstitious tsar abandoned plans to crack down on the city, limiting his actions to robbery of the local clergy.
It is not known whether Ivan remembered the holy fool of Pskov when a messenger was sent to the camp of Stefan Batory. But today we can confidently say that, standing in Ivan’s way, the man probably saved more than just his own city. Given that Pskov was spared Novgorod’s fate, one can only speculate whether it could have withstood one of the best armies in Europe at the time. The peace between Russia and the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth would most likely have not been signed in the backwater of Yam Zapolski, but somewhere further east and under much, much more difficult and humiliating conditions.
