An evening at the Russian Embassy |Thursday 22nd, evening

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

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The Temporary Embassy of the Tsardom of Russia in Windsor

Far from the grandeur that the future Embassy of the Russian Empire would have much later when occupying Chesham House in what would then be known as Belgravia, the combined residence and offices of the Honourable Pyotr Fedorovich Sheremetev, Ambassador from the Tsardom of Russia to the English Court was a quaint two-storied Tudor house that was beginning to show its age.

After crossing the entrance was the foyer, where visitors would be greeted and asked about their business. To one side was an ample sitting room, where waiting visitors would be offered finger foods along tea or stronger drink, and where guests were entertained. To the otherside was the clerk’s office, where routine trading matters were settled by the Ambassador’s privy secretary, Aleksandr Andreievich Potemkin. To the back of the house was the Okolnichy’s study, where more important meetings were held behind closed doors. Furniture was what would be expected from the Tudor period, but the walls were decorated with a variety of Persian tapestries and Siberian furs. The most remarkable furs were from a large white bear and from an Amur tiger, which hung from the sitting room’s walls.

At the back of the foyer were the stairs going up. On the first floor of the house were the private dining room, the ambassador’s suite, and his daughter’s rooms. No one was allowed to the first floor without explicit instructions from the ambassador. Two armed men always stood guard at the foot of the stairs.

Behind the house were the stables and outbuildings, where the horses and the Ambassador’s servants lived.

 

The Embassy had seen a burst of activity for the previous two days. The kitchen had been ordered to produce a traditional Russian meal, but many of the local ingredients were not suitable, so they had had to adapt. Bliny were easy, so the head cook decided to theme the meal around them. There were three guests expected, so at least one hundred bliny would be made. It would not do for guests to leave hungry, thus dishonouring the Ambassador. Bliny would be served as hors d’oeuvres, folded with melted butter, caviar, spiced ground meat, chopped boiled egg, and chopped mushroom fillings. They would also be served alongside the main dishes of smoked salmon and herring, barbecued cod, roasted duck, and smoked ham.

If the affair had been a formal one, no less than three soups, both hot and cold, would have been served, but the Ambassador wanted to keep the atmosphere informal, so no soups would be served. Vegetables would only be used as garnishes. To end on a sweet note, bliny filled with strawberry and blackberry preserves, apples and raisins, preserved peaches and honey, with a sweetened sour cream topping would be served. The piece de resistance though, would be medovaia kovrizhka, honey cake filled with prune and dark cherry preserves. A truly Russian dessert.

Such a meal would not be complete without an adequate assortment of beverages, so vodkas flavoured with black currant buds, cherries, watermelon, cinnamon, anise, caraway seeds, Saint-John’s wort, birch-tree buds, poplar buds, lemon and orange rind, peppers, and paprika would be offered. For the less adventurous, claret and brandy would also be ready. Tradition held that forty different flavours of vodka should be available for any important function, but it being an informal one, and stores not being what they would be in Russia, the number of flavours was limited to thirteen. Flavoured sweet meads would be offered along deserts.

After making sure that everything was according to his taste, Pyotr sat in his study to wait. Waiting is the most difficult part of any battle. Once battle is joined, you win or you lose, but waiting is the hardest. To help him pass the time, he decided to work on his correspondence. The Privy Prikaz wants to be informed of even the tiniest detail... he thought as he picked up a goose quill.

Edited February 29 by Pyotr Fedorovich

[Louis Killington]

The air had a nip in it this evening, making his dark cape feeling all the more necessary.  The Earl of Basildon had chosen his purple tunic and black breeches to accompany his dark cape and dark brimmed hat.  He might be mistaken for a fugitive in the night, while in stark contrast of a roaring fire and a wealth of candlelight.  A rapier hung at his side, as it always did.  That piece of forged metal had served him well over the years.

Once admitted, Louis sought out his host, bearing a bottle of Carib rum and a sugar treat in the shape of a Russian bear.  With his sugar monopoly, Louis often had his cooks craft sugar into presents for friends and allies.  The Russian ambassador seemed in command of a vibrant celebration.  The English lord could only hope that Russian food was not as dreary as English fare.

 

[Francis Kirke]

Francis arrived shortly after Basildon wearing a dark blue and gold brocade justacorps covered by a warm cloak. Had he not had to travel into town, he would have worn his more ornate court sword that His Majesty had gifted him. Instead he wore his rapier, a less gilded weapon and one that had served him well in his travels and duels.

 

He removed his matching hat, plumed with a long, fluffy white feather when he entered the 'embassy.'

 

He had sent ahead a few bottles of his blood orange brandy, Kingston hard apple cider, and fig jam, so he came empty-handed as he could not - in truth - carry all that. 

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

As they entered, the guests were relieved of hats and cloaks, but not of weapons, by a very deferential servant who immediately showed them to the sitting room, where they were asked to wait for the ambassador. Louis was asked if he wanted to give his gifts to a servant, or if he would prefer to give them to the Ambassador himself. Then they were left alone, and had a moment to take in the surroundings before Pyotr arrived.

The room had been appointed with a low but long table, bare for the moment. There were two chairs upholstered in leather on each side of the table and, nearby, another table, rectangular and of normal height, with over a dozen Bohemian decanters filled with flavoured vodkas. An open bottle of Francis’ orange brandy had been placed on one end, separate from the decanters so it would call attention, while on the other end a dozen glasses of Venetian crystal were neatly aligned. The most impressive details of the room were an Amur tiger fur and a white bear fur hanging from the walls among silk Persian tapestries portraying battle scenes. The furs were notable because of their large size and luxurious hair.

A moment later, the ambassador arrived. He was tall, over six feet tall, and walked briskly. He wore black, loose, silk trousers, and a kaftan, an unusual long outer garment, open in front, with very wide short sleeves and a fitted back. The kaftan was made of black velvet embroidered in gold thread, with curious-looking round symbols, gold-thread bobbin lace on the sleeves, and an emerald-studded collar. The kaftan was wrapped over left-to-right and held in place by gold studs. Pyotr carried no obvious weapons, but his Mongol sword master walked behind him, staying in the foyer, out of earshot but within eyesight of his master. The Mongol wore a sabre on his left side, in a curiously angular scabbard, with the hilt to the back and the edge downward.

“Welcome my lords!” the ambassador almost bellowed. “Please, feel at home!” As he approached, he bowed first to Louis and then to Francis, as if knowing their order of precedence. Perhaps he had been informed about such things. “May I offer you something to drink? Or would you prefer to serve yourselves? My house awaits your pleasure”. He signalled the servants to be ready to fulfill the English lords' requests.

Battle has been joined. He smiled.

Edited March 26 by Pyotr Fedorovich
Minor tweaks

[Louis Killington]

Louis chose to keep his gift, rather than share with the servant.  The arrival of Kingston was met with a smile and nod.  Kingston was an ally and friend of the family, so Louis did not need to feign happiness at the encounter.

"Evening Kingston," he greeted warmly.  "I do hope you brought some of that orange brandy."  Brandy was his drink of choice.

The Russian arrived and he returned the bow with a deferential nod.  "Excellency," he greeted.  "Thank you for the invitation."  He paused to allow Francis to do the same.  "I brought you a bottle of rum from the West Indies.  It is quite popular with our sailors in the navy, and most all Englishmen.  And, I have a sugar treat from that part of the world as well, where my company enjoys a sugar monopoly."

As for the drink, Louis asked "is there such a thing as Russian brandy?"  If so, he was willing to give it a try.

[Francis Kirke]

"Pleased to see a familiar face," Francis returned Louis' greeting. "I had some sent over earlier, and what have you there?"

 

Francis was no stranger to rum, but it was not something he involved himself in as the Carib was full of dangers he did not need to turn profit. The sea was wild in itself, but the piracy and squalls come out of nowhere were on a level greater than elsewhere he had traveled. 

 

When the Russian ambassador appeared he seemed much larger than he had at the bonfire. Francis was a tall man, with the Villiers height, but it was altogether a different thing than this gentleman. 

"Good evening, Excellency," Francis also greeted with bow. "Lord Basildon asks an interesting question. I am always game for trying new spirits. What might be your suggestion?" 

 

Basildon was a consummate courtier, slipping in his monopoly to the conversation; Francis had not yet grown a typical level of ostentatious for his rank. Buckingham did enough of that for them both and then some.

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

At the sight of the sugar sculpture, the Ambassador’s eyes brightened. “Lord Kingston’s orange brandy is much appreciated, and so is your West Indies Rum, Lord Basildon, but this…” Pyotr took the bear carefully, and made a sign to the Mongol in the foyer. The sword master arrived quickly, and the Russian nobleman gave him the sculpture, and whispered a few words in his ear. The Mongol bowed slightly and departed swiftly, almost silently. “… this may be just what I needed today”. There was a smile in the Ambassadors lips.

The Russian indicated that his guests should sit on one side of the table, while he sat on the other. The subject then moved to brandy. “Russian brandy, my lord? No, we are not as refined as to produce brandy…” Russian weather was unhelpful to grape production. “But we do make something that might be agreeable”. Pyotr used his left hand to attract attention to the table filled with decanters, where a servant had placed the rum beside the bottle of blood orange brandy. “We produce vodka. It has about half the alcohol content of brandy and can be flavoured with whatever one wishes”. Or with nothing. In the bitter Russian winter, unflavoured vodka was extremely useful to fend off hypothermia.

“What flavours do you prefer? Fruits? Spices? Herbs? Vodka is dry, like brandy, but flavours are quite varied. I wish we were in Moscow, so you could sample more flavours than the few I was able to bring”. Perhaps a note to the Privy Prikaz requesting a load of vodka might be in order.

Two servants took half a step forward, indicating that they were ready to serve whatever the Ambassador's guests stated as their preference.

[Louis Killington]

The Ambassador took a particular liking to the sugar sculpture, which made Louis smile.  He would remember the man's sweet tooth.

"Let me try this vodka then.  One dry, one with fruit and another with spice.  I am happy to sample all three," he declared, waiting for the servants to fill his request.  He was not expecting the dry to have a pleasant taste,but he thought to taste the base spirit for comparison to brandy.

[Francis Kirke]

Francis instantly took a liking to this large ambassador. He could not precisely place why, but his instincts were usually good ones.

 

"Vodka it is, Excellency," and then he raised a finger, "But, only if you show us how to drink it in the proper Russian way. I am sure, like most countries, there is an oath that goes with a drink."

 

For someone who had sailed and conducted business, learning the proper way to drink in foreign lands was a key skill in negotiation and relationship building.

 

"I do not discriminate against my strong drink. I like most things."

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

As the two noble guests agreed to drink vodka, the Ambassador nodded in the direction of a servant, and spoke a few muted words in Russian. The servants moved immediately to the table where the decanters were placed, and served three different vodkas for each of the two lords. Louis was presented with glasses containing unflavoured vodka, cherry, and birch-bud. Francis was also presented with a glass of unflavoured vodka, but the other two glasses contained watermelon and paprika flavours. The Ambassador was also served three glasses containing unflavoured, cinnamon, and pepper. The glasses were made of transparent Venetian crystal, so the different colours could be seen, and nothing was poured in the glasses besides the vodka.

“There is a saying in Russia that states that the only liquid acceptable to mix with vodka is… more vodka!” Pyotr chuckled. “We drink to celebrate, we drink to forget, we drink to meet new people, like today… to sum it up, we drink vodka whenever and wherever it is possible to do so. The only other drink to have in polite company is tea, and we will do that after we dine. As for what we say when we raise glasses, we say…”

The Ambassador was cut short by a beautiful young lady of about twenty noisily entering the room. She was between five and a half and six feet tall, her blond hair worn in long tresses that reached the bottom of her ribcage and was dressed in close-fitting red and gold brocades that went from her neck to her wrists, and down to the floor. On her ears she wore large drop earrings with large central rubies surrounded by Mazarin-cut diamonds. She wore no gloves, and her skin was pale, without blemish. On her hands was the sugar sculpture that Louis had brought.

“Papa, this bear is amazing!” she said in Russian as she ran into the sitting room lifting the bear in her hands. She then realized that her father was not alone, but two Englishmen were with him. Stopping dead on her tracks, she curtsied prettily as her cheeks tinged with pink. She then switched to a heavily accented English with a brogue heavier than Irish or Scot. “Please forgive me, I just wanted to thank my father for this extraordinary medved… bear”. Her blue eyes glistened with joy.

Pyotr smiled as his daughter entered the room. “Lord Basildon, Lord Kingston, may I introduce my daughter, Anna Petrovna Sheremetev. Anna, may I introduce Lords Basildon and Kingston”. He then switched to Russian to explain their titles and why they were visiting. From the way his face had softened, it was evident that his daughter had him wrapped around her finger.

[Louis Killington]

The Ambassador was indeed a likeable man; but then, diplomats needed charisma to succeed.  Louis smiled as the Russian explained how an Englishman or Irishman might explain strong drink.  Many thought it not uncommon to become blindly drunk.  Basildon, in contrast, had experienced such mindset as a young wastrel, but now preferred to avoid intoxication that would cause him to lose all control.  There was danger in that when one held power.

The three decanters arrayed before him were met with an approving nod from Louis.  He paused at Kingston's excellent suggestion of learning the local custom of salutations before imbibing.  They were interrupted by the arrival of the man's daughter, one that needed to be locked away from the depraved at court, lest violence ensue.  At least Merriweather was dead.  One less monster on the loose.

It fell to the gentlemen to bow at her arrival and introduction, and Louis was quick to accommodate.  "A charming lady." he announced in English, wondering if she spoke French better.  She was easy on the eyes and her appreciation of his gift caused Louis to like her more.  "Excellency, would it be appropriate to salute your daughter with a raised glass of vodka, or not?"

[Francis Kirke]

Francis laughed at the Ambassador's exclamation of what was allowed to mix with this vodka. The Russians seemed like a hardy sort! His own time as a sailor gave him a larger tolerance than most for imbibing. He was hanging on to the words about the customs when suddenly a beautiful young lady came excitedly into the room.

 

He instantly stood with gallant politeness and watched the exchange between father and daughter. Francis bowed in the pretty way Buckingham had grilled into him.

 

"An honor," Francis said in his bright tenor. "And what is the proper way to speak to your daughter. I confess I do not know the proper conventions." He had no idea what honorifics or styles were used or if styling her like an English lady would even be correct. 

 

"And indeed, do gentlemen toast to their ladies and share a drink with them in your country?"

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

Russian custom was for noble maidens to remain under lock and key until they were given to their husbands at church when married. After that, it was their husband’s problem, who generally did the same their father did, keep them locked away to make sure the woman’s children were her husband’s. England, she had noticed, was far more lenient, but whatever she did would reflect on her father, and thus on the Tsardom of Russia. So, although her eyes sparkled as she contemplated the bear, Anna Petrovna kept silent.

“The proper form of address would be Anna Petrovna Sheremetev. That identifies her as Anna, daughter of Pyotr, of the Sheremetev family. Being a lady, she has no title or post”. The Ambassador knew by now that he would have to explain Russian forms of address many, many times.

Pyotr turned to her daughter and spoke softly. Anna curtsied, bade her farewells, and left, with a spring in her step, carefully carrying the sugar bear.

“Russian customs are far more traditional than English ones, my lords. Even at church, men and women are kept separate from each other. My daughter will have certain allowances made while in England, but I have not made my mind up regarding balls and other social events…” there was much he had to ponder still. “Meanwhile I will be a far more public figure”.

And I need to make them understand that even the most oblique of indecent proposals would have to meet with death, because it is not only my personal honour, but the honour of the Sheremetevs, and of the Tsardom of Russia. Perhaps I should speak with the Northern Secretary about this first. This must not be grounds for a diplomatic incident.

The Ambassador stood up. “Getting back to what we say when we raise a glass, in the company of noblemen I think the most appropriate would be to say To You!” He raised his glass as he said that last phrase, and immediately emptied it in one gulp. Drinking was not an elegant affair in Russia.

[Louis Killington]

Anna took her leave.  Louis nodded in deference.  An English lady would stay but countries of a more traditional path, even Spain, were far more likely to closet their ladies.

The three names were explained as part of the forms of address in Russia.  It seemed simple enough.

The drinking was simple too, it seemed.  Brandy was to be savored, but it seemed that vodka was to be downed quickly in a rush to inebriation.  That conflicted with his tastes, but one catered to foreigners when in their lairs.  Reaching for the plain vodka, Louis saluted "to you" and then downed the liquid quickly, trying to mimic their host.  The liquid burned and he almost coughed.  He nodded in a friendly fashion.  "Strong drink." 

[Francis Kirke]

Francis supposed, then, that meant he was not supposed to talk to her, so he wouldn't need to worry about what to call her. He was not aware of such customs and felt like he had just put his foot in it.

 

Nevertheless, as the young lady departed, he smiled and resumed his seat. 

 

"I can appreciate your reluctance when His Majesty's court is known for its liberalities rather than staunch discretion. You must be a very proud father, Excellency."

 

Francis opted for the unflavored vodka first to try in the pure form.

 

"To you, then."

 

He followed suit and downed the drink. It gave a pleasant burn down the throat. It did not have a flavor that he could put his finger one very clearly. Perhaps peppery without actual pepper. He took in a breath through his nose and cleared his throat. 

 

"Very good. Definitely far different than many of our typical drinks. It has a burn like a whiskey that the Scots drink but totally different taste."

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

Lord Basildon was the more refined courtier, it seemed to the Ambassador. Lord Kingston was the more sincere. They had both been approved by the Northern Secretary, and by extension, by the King. Pyotr liked them both for different reasons. One to play high-stake games with, the other to have backstairs communications through. The evening was already a success, and it had not even started.

“Yes, Lord Kingston. I am a very proud father”. A moment, before continuing. “Perhaps you two could recommend young ladies of good character that Anna can get acquainted with, without getting into trouble, my lords?” The question was loaded on many levels. “I would hate to see a diplomatic incident produced by... inappropriate behaviour towards my daughter, and help would be much appreciated”.

Then the topic changed to vodka. “Not as strong as other spirits, Lord Kingston, but definitely stronger than beer, ale, or mead. Before the second round, shall we have something light to eat?” Pyotr signaled the servants, who immediately covered the table with plates full of bliny¹. The Embassy’s chef knew his master had to give a good impression, so he had outdone himself. Five gold-edged porcelain plates were placed on the table, with each containing bliny with a different filling. The one in the centre contained bliny filled with a butter and herb spread, while the others were filled with chopped boiled eggs seasoned with paprika, caviar, ground beef seasoned with pepper, and chopped sautéed mushrooms with garlic. There were enough bliny for the three men to have their fill, even without taking into account the main courses that had not been served yet.

“Please, my lords, eat to your heart’s content”. The Ambassador said as he grabbed a bliny with his left hand. “Meanwhile allow me to relate why I am in London”. Pyotr was certain that the story would be met with approval, or at least a neutral attitude.

“You may or may not know this, but Russia broke diplomatic relations with England when the previous king was assassinated…” the choice of word had not been left to chance. “But now that his son, King Charles the Second is on the throne, the Tsar has decided that relations should be reestablished. He believes in showing his support for those with the God-given responsibility to rule, and his displeasure towards those who unlawfully take that divine right from those who have been given it”. He had had to translate those thoughts from Russian to German and then to English, so the Ambassador hoped his message was getting across.

“The Tsar believes there is much to be gained by both England and Russia if we strengthen ties between us” he continued, “to show our good faith, we are willing to open trade with a few select English companies willing to take English products to Russia and bring Russian products to England… products like these…” at a signal, a servant presented both Louis and Francis a white ermine muff each, sized for a lady. “Please give these as gifts to ladies dear to you. Only one other will be gifted, and that one to the Queen…” that made the ermine muffs rather unique. “These are but a sample of the furs that come from Siberia. We believe they would be well-liked in your country. I would like to know what you think”.

Pyotr paused, raising his second glass of vodka, that one flavoured with pepper. “To you. My lords!” He said before downing it unceremoniously. He wanted to gauge the two English lords' interest before continuing.

¹Bliny are pancakes made with yeasted batter, which is left to rise and then diluted with milk, soured milk, and cold or boiling water. They are about six inches in diameter, filled with different ingredients, and folded in four. They are a traditional Russian dish.

[Louis Killington]

The Russian pastries looked tempting and Basildon was willing to indulge, even though his paranoia suggested caution.  It was highly likely that the Ambassador was not there to murder the two of them.  He would have little reason to do so.

As such Louis listened to the reason the Russian had come to England as he tasted with approval the bliny filled with beef and mushrooms.  One could make a meal of these treats.

My company ships sail between England and the West Indies, but the pirates have been bad for business.  Are there pirates in the Baltic Sea?" he inquired casually as he reached for a second bliny.  "I suppose I could divert a ship eastward.  I am guessing that sugar would be in great demand in your country?  Furs are popular here."

He received the ermine muff and thanked the Ambassador.  Louis already had an ermine fringed cloak that was expensive.  He knew the ladies would spend a fortune for white or black fur for their wardrobe.  "Most generous.  Is there a royal writ needed to trade with Russia?"

[Francis Kirke]

Francis was never one to turn down food, and nor was he particularly shy about eating. He consumed a considerable amount in a day for his level of activity. He took one of the pastries and sampled it, delighting in the little salty pops of caviar. He raised the other half of it to the Russian and gave an appreciative nod.

 

He raised an eyebrow as Basildon casually said he could divert a shit eastward, as if you could just go hither and thither on the seas with no experience of routes. Many ships did not come back from such expansion. He did not say anything, though, as he still had a certain loyalty to a fellow Englishman.

 

Francis cleaned his hands and then admired the muff, wondering to whom he would gift it. Such a fine gift could not be given to just anyone. Perhaps his mother was the only appropriate party.

 

He helped himself to another bliny and listened as Basildon spoke.

 

"Very beautiful. Far finer than the furs in the colonies we have to the West," Francis agreed. He followed the Russian into another shot of vodka.

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

Pyotr was pleased. Bliny had been eaten and approved, which made the Ambassador smile. Food and the sharing of it tended to ease relations among men. That one of the most traditional Russian foods was so readily accepted was a good omen for his diplomatic mission.

“Pirates, Lord Basildon? Nothing noteworthy since the Grand Master of the Teutonic Order defeated them at the end of the fourteenth century and razed their strongholds in Gottland. Privateers might prove troublesome in times of war, but the Baltic is quite safe in times of peace”. It was true. The ship that had taken the Ambassador to England had been but lightly armed. "There is another route, of course, sailing north of Sweden. It can only be used in the summer, but if Sweden respects the English flag, only storms would need be feared".

“As for what could be profitable to trade in Russia, sugar would indeed have demand. I have heard there is good tobacco in your Virginia Colony. Even though the Eastern Orthodox Church has condemned it, tobacco would be worth trading for those who were careful in how they plied their trade…” it was a blatant reference to smuggling, but the Russian’s face did not flinch. He was merely stating a fact. Besides, tobacco consumption was on the rise among the Boyar families, so the government turned a blind eye to its trade and consumption. “English wool and Scottish uisgee are also of interest”. There were other products, of course, but it would take diligent merchants to find them. The Ambassador’s role was not to trade, but to facilitate. Others would profit from things he merely hinted at.

A caviar bliny, and a third shot of vodka, a pause so as not to become tiresome in his speech. It would soon be time to get to the main dishes, but the core of what he wanted to convey had to be said first, before any of them had too much to drink. Pyotr did not want to appear to be using alcohol to take advantage of his guests.

“As for what we can offer, furs are foremost, of course, but there are other possibilities. Lumber. Chinese tea, silks and other exotic wares. Persian brocades and rugs. Damascus steel. Indian spices. Some of the non-Russian items can be obtained for less using other routes, but we can be considered a less risky option. As for royal writs, yes, in a sense…”

Pyotr paused to find the best way to say what came next.

“The Stroganov merchant family have financed many important endeavours in the Tsardom”. It was an understatement. Without them, the Russian state would not exist in its current form. “So, they have been granted a de facto trading monopoly in everything important. All trade would have to go through them. In exchange, English traders would have the assurance that government prikazy have basically pre-approved their activities…” which meant even smuggling was under the Stroganov’s sphere of influence.

The Ambassador paused for another bliny and signalled a servant to remove empty glasses and bring new ones with other flavours. It was a pause for his guests to ask, comment, or object. Pyotr knew that he was thinking in Russian, translating his thoughts to German, and from German into English. He was bound to be making translation mistakes or, at the very least, comments hard to understand.

 

[Louis Killington]

Louis listened to the ambassador while he explained how trade worked in Russia, and the goods available.  As he did so, he continued to sample the flavored vodka and another bliny, cognizant that further food could be coming.  As such, he needed to reserve some of his hunger.

"If the Stroganovs have a monopoly," he began "then one wonders why an Englishman should send a ship.  Should we just sell our sugar and wool to a Stroganov trade ship when it arrives in London instead?"  It would mean that the Russian merchants would make most of the money, but there seemed to be little upside to sending a companyship, even with a safe Baltic Sea.

[Francis Kirke]

Francis continued to eat the bliny and drink the vodka, observing and judging the exchange between the two men. The delicate-looking blond had not just been negotiating trade for nearly a decade but had lived it in the passage of ships and ports. 

Finally, the youthful-looking earl raised the observation, "You are speaking of enumerated goods, of course." Which had their own restrictions and complications. "And we are prohibited from wool ventures entirely due to the Exportation Act."

 

England had very specific trade laws that had their own advantages and disadvantages. Being that they were enacted by parliament, there was little way around them unless one did wish to be a smuggler. Being caught forfeited both the goods and the ship, usually to the admiralty. That was not Francis' cup of tea. 

 

He did deal with tobacco, but he beyond what he sold in England, he received a premium for his from the Turks, being that he had to first unload and pay duties on it in England before it going elsewhere. 

[Pyotr Fedorovich]

Looking at it from the risk vs. profit point of view, eh Lord Basildon? The Ambassador made a mental note of the fact. “If you were to wait until a Stroganov ship arrived in London, you would probably be a grandfather by then”, Pyotr said with a chuckle. “As rich and as resourceful as they are, the Stroganovs lack one thing, namely seagoing ships. Russian rivers are large, so riverine trade is abundant, and their attention is currently focused eastwards. If you were to trade with them using your own ships, you could set terms to your advantage, I am sure”. That had already been decided far above their level. “The cost of using your own ships would be added to the selling price of cargo, of course, and a profit should be expected from that too”, the Russian said as an enticement.

“Lord Kingston, you are referring to the Navigation Acts, yes?” The Ambassador seemed to have done his research. “I Am not versed in all the details of the several acts, but the main one, requiring English ships to carry the goods, is not a problem because of what I just said”. The division between enumerated and non-enumerated goods was unclear to Pyotr, but his focus was on two products to start with. “Our interest at this point is mainly in sugar and tobacco. Both are products with demand only on the highest echelons of society, so you can name your price, within reason, of course. Tobacco is frowned upon by the Orthodox Church, but much appreciated by the nobility, so there is opportunity there”. There was, and he had been ordered to mention it, repeat it even. How big, though, he was not at liberty to say.

The Ambassador signaled for the table to be cleared, and the main dishes to be brought. Five large plates of Meisen porcelain were set before the three men, containing already portioned smoked salmon and herring, barbecued cod, roasted duck, and smoked ham. Arranged all around the border of the plates were more bliny, containing only brushed clarified butter. The chef had done his best, and the aroma rising from the plates was mouthwatering. Servants continued to refill vodka glasses as ordered, but they also presented the guests with larger glasses of mead and claret, according to each guest’s taste.

“We offer you a monetized barter system. By this I mean that you and the Stroganovs agree on prices for both what you sell and what you buy, and you receive payment in the goods of your choice. We suggest smoked teas, Oriental silks, Siberian furs, and even Persian steels, but you know your markets far better than I do, so it is your choice. Do you have any requests?”

Pyotr grabbed a folded bliny with his left hand, and skillfully took a portion of smoked salmon with the fish never touching his fingers. This is good! General Gordon was correct on insisting that I bought only Scottish salmon. His eyebrows raised appreciatively.

Will they see the opportunities? They had been hand-picked because they were the most likely to do so, but the Ambassador was not sure yet.

[Louis Killington]

The main course arrived just as the Ambassador explained the barter system, all of which needed to comply with English law.  Louis sought to sample from each of the main courses, if it was not rude to do so.  Variety was always an approach he favored.

"My company would like to trade sugar for Siberian furs," Basildon offered.  "Though English men have the power, they use this power to cater to ladies.  Apart from jewelry, the female eye brightens the most with furs.  Ladies are judged by their beauty and exotic charm.  Furs accentuate both.  We can get silk and steel from the Turks.  Furs come from the New World and the Russian furs are unique."

"I would propose," he continued as his plate was filled, "that you carry letters back to Russia with offers and exchange rates.  No need to send ships until an agreement on exchange in value is reached.  From there I can see if a ship can be hired to carry our cargo ... to the port of your choice."  There was no reason to go into further details.  This was to be a pleasant evening, not one for hard negotiations.  The vodka had a stronger kick than did the brandy, so Louis thought to pace himself somewhat as he tried the various dishes and allowed Kingston to suggest his own preference for trade goods.