The Mongols: Genghis Khan
Three thousand years is a period of time long enough to produce great
changes, and in the course of that time a great many different nations and
congeries of nations were formed in the regions of Central Asia. The term
Tartars has been employed generically to denote almost the whole race. The
Monguls are a portion of this people, who are said to derive their name from
Mongol Khan, one of their earliest and most powerful chieftains. The
descendants of this khan called themselves by his name, just as the
descendants of the twelve sons of Jacob called themselves Israelites, or
children of Israel, from the name Israel, which was one of the designations
of the great patriarch from whose twelve sons the twelve tribes of the Jews
descended. The country inhabited by the Monguls was called Mongolia.
To obtain a clear conception of a single Mongul family, you must
imagine, first, a rather small, short, thick-set man, with long black hair,
a flat face, and a dark olive complexion. His wife, if her face were not so
flat and her nose so broad, would be quite a brilliant little beauty, her
eyes are so black and sparkling. The children have much the appearance of
young Indians as they run shouting among the cattle on the hill-sides, or,
if young, playing half-naked about the door of the hut, their long black hair
streaming in the wind.
Like all the rest of the inhabitants of Central Asia, these people
depended almost entirely for their subsistence on the products of their flocks
and herds. Of course, their great occupation consisted in watching their
animals while feeding by day, and in putting them in places of security by
night, in taking care of and rearing the young, in making butter and cheese
from the milk, and clothing from the skins, in driving the cattle to and for
in search of pasturage, and, finally, in making war on the people of other
tribes to settle disputes arising out of conflicting claims to territory, or
to replenish their stock of sheep and oxen by seizing and driving off the
flocks of their neighbors.
The animals which the Monguls most prized were camels, oxen and cows,
sheep, goats, and horses. They were very proud of their horses, and they rode
them with great courage and spirit. They always went mounted in going to war.
Their arms were bows and arrows, pikes or spears, and a sort of sword or
sabre, which was manufactured in some of the towns toward the west, and
supplied to them in the course of trade by great traveling caravans.
Although the mass of the people lived in the open country with their
flocks and herds, there were, notwithstanding, a great many towns and
villages, though such centres of population were much fewer and less important
among them than they are in countries the inhabitants of which live by tilling
the ground. Some of these towns were the residences of the khans and of the
heads of tribes. Others were places of manufacture of centres of commerce,
and many of them were fortified with embankments of earth or walls of stone.
The habitations of the common people, even those built in the towns, were
rude huts made so as to be easily taken down and removed. The tents were made
by means of poles set in a circle in the ground, and brought nearly together
at the top, so as to form a frame similar to that of an Indian wigwam. A hoop
was placed near the top of these poles, so as to preserve a round opening
there for the smoke to go out. The frame was then covered with sheets of a
sort of thick gray felt, so placed as to leave the opening within the hoop
free. The felt, too, was arranged below in such a manner that the corner of
one of the sheets could be raised and let down again to form a sort of door.
The edges of the sheets in other places were fastened together very carefully,
especially in winter, to keep out the cold air.
Within the tent, on the ground in the centre, the family built their
fire, which was made of sticks, leaves, grass, and dried droppings of all
sorts, gathered from the ground, for the country produced scarcely any wood.
Countries roamed over by herds of animals that gain their living by pasturing
on the grass and herbage are almost always destitute of trees. Trees in such
a case have no opportunity to grow.
The tents of the Monguls thus made were, of course, very comfortless
homes. They could not be kept warm, there was so much cold air coming
continually in through the crevices, notwithstanding all the people's
contrivances to make them tight. The smoke, too, did not all escape through
the hoop-hole above. Much of it remained in the tent and mingled with the
atmosphere. This evil was aggravated by the kind of fuel which they used,
which was of such a nature that it made only a sort of smouldering fire
instead of burning, like good dry wood, with a bright and clear flame.
The discomforts of these huts and tents were increased by the custom
which prevailed among the people of allowing the animals to come into them,
especially those that were young and feeble, and to live there with the
family.
In process of time, as the people increased in riches and in mechanical
skill, some of the more wealthy chieftains began to build houses so large and
so handsome that they could not be conveniently taken down to be removed, and
then they contrived a way of mounting them upon trucks placed at the four
corners, and moving them bodily in this way across the plains, as a table is
moved across a floor upon its castors. It was necessary, of course, that the
houses should be made very light in order to be managed in this way. They
were, in fact, still tents rather than houses, being made of the same
materials, only they were put together in a more substantial and ornamental
manner. The frame was made of very light poles, though these poles were
fitted together in permanent joinings. The covering was, like that of the
tents, made of felt, but the sheets were joined together by close and strong
seams, and the whole was coated with a species of paint, which not only
closed all the pores and interstices and made the structure very tight, but
also served to ornament it; for they were accustomed, in painting these
houses, to adorn the covering with pictures of birds, beasts, and trees,
represented in such a manner as doubtless, in their eyes, produced a very
beautiful effect.
These movable houses were sometimes very large. A certain traveler who
visited the country not far from the time of Genghis Khan says that he saw one
of these structures in motion which was thirty feet in diameter. It was drawn
by twenty-two oxen. It was so large that it extended five feet on each side
beyond the wheels. The oxen, in drawing it, were not attached, as with us, to
the centre of the forward axle-tree, but to the ends of the axle-trees, which
projected beyond the wheels on each side. There were eleven oxen on each side
drawing upon the axle-trees. There were, of course, many drivers. The one
who was chief in command stood in the door of the tent or house which looked
forward, and there, with many loud shouts and flourishing gesticulations,
issued his orders to the oxen and to the other men.
The household goods of this traveling chieftain were packed in chests
made for the purpose, the house itself, of course, in order to be made as
light as possible, having been emptied of all its contents. These chests
were large, and were made of wicker or basket-work, covered, like the house,
with felt. The covers were made of a rounded form, so as to throw off the
rain, and the felt was painted over with a certain composition which made it
impervious to the water. These chests were not intended to be unpacked at
the end of the journey, but to remain as they were, as permanent storehouses
of utensils, clothing, and provisions. They were placed in rows, each on its
own cart, near the tent, where they could be resorted to conveniently from
time to time by the servants and attendants, as occasion might require. The
tent placed in the centre, with these great chests on their carts near it,
formed, as it were, a house with one great room standing by itself, and all
the little rooms and closets arranged in rows by the side of it.
Some such arrangement as this is obviously necessary in case of a great
deal of furniture or baggage belonging to a man who lives in a tent, and who
desires to be at liberty to remove his whole establishment from place to place
at short notice; for a tent, from the very principle of its construction, is
incapable of being divided into rooms, or of accommodating extensive stores of
furniture or goods. Of course, a special contrivance is required for the
accommodation of this species of property. This was especially the case with
the Monguls, among whom there were many rich and great men who often
accumulated a large amount of movable property. There was one rich Mongul, it
was said, who had two hundred such chest-carts, which were arranged in two
rows around and behind his tent, so that his establishment, when he was
encamped, looked like quite a little village.
The style of building adopted among the Monguls for tents and movable
houses seemed to set the fashion for all their houses, even for those that
were built in the towns, and were meant to stand permanently where they were
first set up. These permanent houses were little better than tents. They
consisted each of one single room without any subdivisions whatever. They
were made round, too, like the tents, only the top, instead of running up to a
point, was rounded like a dome. There were no floors above that formed on the
ground, and no windows.
Such was the general character of the dwellings of the Monguls in the
days of Genghis Khan. They took their character evidently from the wandering
and pastoral life that the people led. One would have thought that very
excellent roads would have been necessary to have enabled them to draw the
ponderous carts containing their dwellings and household goods. But this was
less necessary than might have been supposed on account of the nature of the
country, which consisted chiefly of immense grassy plains and smooth river
valleys, over which, in many places, wheels would travel tolerably well in any
direction without much making of roadway. Then, again, in all such countries,
the people who journey from place to place, and the herds of cattle that move
to and fro, naturally fall into the same lines of travel, and thus, in time,
wear great trails, as cows make paths in a pasture. These, with a little
artificial improvement at certain points, make very good summer roads, and in
the winter it is not necessary to use them at all.
The Monguls, like the ancient Jews, were divided into tribes, and these
were subdivided into families; a family meaning in this connection not one
household, but a large congeries of households, including all those that were
of known relationship to each other. These groups of relatives had each its
head, and the tribe to which they pertained had also its general head. There
were, it is said, three sets of these tribes, forming three grand divisions of
the Mongul people, each of which was ruled by its own khan; and then, to
complete the system, there was the grand khan, who ruled over all.
A constitution of society like this almost always prevails in pastoral
countries, and we shall see, on a little reflection, that it is natural that
it should do so. In a country like ours, where the pursuits of men are so
infinitely diversified, the descendants of different families become mingled
together in the most promiscuous manner. The son of a farmer in one state
goes off, as soon as he is of age, to some other state, to find a place among
merchants or manufacturers, because he wishes to be a merchant or a
manufacturer himself, while his father supplies his place on the farm perhaps
by hiring a man who likes farming, and has come hundreds of miles in search of
work. Thus the descendants of one American grandfather and grandmother will
be found, after a lapse of a few years, scattered in every direction all over
the land, and, indeed, sometimes all over the world.
It is the diversity of pursuits which prevails in such a country as ours,
taken in connection with the diversity of capacity and of taste in different
individuals, that produces this dispersion.
Among a people devoted wholly to pastoral pursuits, all this is
different. The young men, as they grow up, can have generally no inducement
to leave their homes. They continue to live with their parents and relatives,
sharing the care of the flocks and herds, and making common cause with them in
every thing that is of common interest. It is thus that those great family
groups are formed which exist in all pastoral countries under the name of
tribes or clans, and form the constituent elements of the whole social and
political organization of the people.
In case of general war, each tribe of the Monguls furnished, of course, a
certain quota of armed men, in proportion to its numbers and strength. These
men always went to war, as has already been said, on horseback, and the
spectacle which these troops presented in galloping in squadrons over the
plains was sometimes very imposing. The shock of the onset when they charged
in this way upon the enemy was tremendous. They were armed with bows and
arrows, and also with sabres. As they approached the enemy, they discharged
first a shower of arrows upon him, while they were in the act of advancing at
the top of their speed. Then, dropping their bows by their side, they would
draw their sabres, and be ready, as soon as the horses fell upon the enemy, to
cut down all opposed to them with the most furious and deadly blows.
If they were repulsed, and compelled by a superior force to retreat, they
would gallop at full speed over the plains, turning at the same time in their
saddles, and shooting at their pursuers with their arrows as coolly, and with
as correct an aim, almost, as if they were still. While thus retreating the
trooper would guide and control his horse by his voice, and by the pressure of
his heels upon his sides, so as to have both his arms free for fighting his
pursuers.
These arrows were very formidable weapons, it is said. One of the
travelers who visited the country in those days says that they could be shot
with so much force as to pierce the body of a man entirely through.
It must be remembered, however, in respect to all such statements
relating to the efficiency of the bow and arrow, that the force with which an
arrow can be thrown depends not upon any independent action of the bow, but
altogether upon the strength of the man who draws it. The bow, in
straightening itself for the propulsion of the arrow, expends only the force
which the man has imparted to it by bending it; so that the real power by
which the arrow is propelled is, after all, the muscular strength of the
archer. It is true, a great deal depends on the qualities of the bow, and
also on the skill of the man in using it, to make all this muscular strength
effective. With a poor bow, or with unskillful management, a great deal of it
would be wasted. But with the best possible bow, and with the most consummate
skill of the archer, it is the strength of the archer's arm which throws the
arrow, after all.
It is very different in this respect with a bullet thrown by the force of
gunpowder from the barrel of a gun. The force in this case is the explosive
force of the powder, and the bullet is thrown to the same distance whether it
is a very weak man or a very strong man that pulls the trigger.
But to return to the Monguls. All the information which we can obtain in
respect to the condition of the people before the time of Genghis Khan comes
to us from the reports of travelers who, either as merchants, or as
embassadors from caliphs or kings, made long journeys into these distant
regions, and have left records, more or less complete, of their adventures,
and accounts of what they saw, in writings which have been preserved by the
learned men of the East. It is very doubtful how far these accounts are to be
believed. One of these travelers, a learned man named Salam, who made a
journey far into the interior of Asia by order of the Caliph Mohammed Amin
Billah, some time before the reign of Genghis Khan, says that, among other
objects of research and investigation which occupied his mind, he was directed
to ascertain the truth in respect to the two famous nations Gog and Magog, or,
as they are designated in his account, Yagog and Magog. The story that had
been told of these two nations by the Arabian writers, and which was
extensively believed, was, that the people of Yagog were of the ordinary size
of men, but those of Magog were only about two feet high. These people had
made war upon the neighboring nations, and had destroyed many cities and
towns, but had at last been overpowered and shut up in prison.
Salam, the traveler whom the caliph sent to ascertain whether their
accounts were true, traveled at the head of a caravan containing fifty men,
and with camels bearing stores and provisions for a year. He was gone a long
time. When he came back he gave an account of his travels; and in respect to
Gog and Magog, he said that he had found that the accounts which had been
heard respecting them were true. He traveled on, he said, from the country of
one chieftain to another till he reached the Caspian Sea, and then went on
beyond that sea for thirty or forty days more. In one place the party came to
a tract of low black land, which exhaled an odor so offensive that they were
obliged to use perfumes all the way to overpower the noxious smells. They
were ten days in crossing this fetid territory. After this they went on a
month longer through a desert country, and at length came to a fertile land
which was covered with the ruins of cities that the people of Gog and Magog
had destroyed.
In six days more they reached the country of the nation by which the
people of Gog and Magog had been conquered and shut up in prison. Here they
found a great many strong castles. There was a large city here too,
containing temples and academies of learning, and also the residence of the
king.
The travelers took up their abode in this city for a time, and while they
were there they made an excursion of two days' journey into the country to see
the place where the people of Gog and Magog were confined. When they arrived
at the place they found a lofty mountain. There was a great opening made in
the face of this mountain two or three hundred feet wide. The opening was
protected on each side by enormous buttresses, between which was placed an
immense double gate, the buttresses and the gate being all of iron. The
buttresses were surmounted with an iron bulwark, and with lofty towers also of
iron, which were carried up as high as to the top of the mountain itself. The
gates were of the width of the opening cut in the mountain, and were
seventy-five feet high; and the valves, lintels, and threshold, and also the
bolts, the lock, and the key, were all of proportional size.
Salam, on arriving at the place, saw all these wonderful structures with
his own eyes, and he was told by the people there that it was the custom of
the governor of the castles already mentioned to take horse every Friday with
ten others, and, coming to the gate, to strike the great bolt three times with
a ponderous hammer weighing five pounds, when there would be heard a murmuring
noise within, which were the groans of the Yagog and Magog people confined in
the mountain. Indeed, Salam was told that the poor captives often appeared on
the battlements above. Thus the real existence of this people was, in his
opinion, fully proved; and even the story in respect to the diminutive size of
the Magogs was substantiated, for Salam was told that once, in a high wind,
three of them were blown off from the battlements to the ground, and that, on
being measured, they were found but three spans high.
This is a specimen of the tales brought home from remote countries by the
most learned and accomplished travelers of those times. In comparing these
absurd and ridiculous tales with the reports which are brought back from
distant regions in our days by such travelers as Humboldt, Livingstone, and
Kane, we shall perceive what an immense progress in intelligence and
information the human mind has made since those days.
Chapter XVI: Conquests In China
After the death of Hujaku, the Emperor of China endeavored to defend his
dominions against Genghis Khan by means of his other generals, and the war was
continued for several years, during which time Genghis Khan made himself
master of all the northern part of China, and ravaged the whole country in the
most reckless and cruel manner. The country was very populous and very rich.
The people, unlike the Monguls and Tartars, lived by tilling the ground, and
they practiced, in great perfection, many manufacturing and mechanic arts.
The country was very fertile, and, in the place of the boundless pasturages of
the Mongul territories, it was covered in all directions with cultivated
fields, gardens, orchards, and mulberry-groves, while thriving villages and
busy towns were scattered over the whole face of it. It was to protect this
busy hive of wealth and industry that the great wall had been built ages
before; for the Chinese had always been stationary, industrious, and peaceful,
while the territories of Central Asia, lying to the north of them, had been
filled from time immemorial with wild, roaming, and unscrupulous troops of
marauders, like those who were now united under the banner of Genghis Khan.
The wall had afforded for some hundreds of years an adequate protection, for
no commander had appeared of sufficient power to organize and combine the
various hordes on a scale great enough to enable them to force so strong a
barrier. But, now that Genghis Khan had come upon the stage, the barrier was
broken through, and the terrible and reckless hordes poured in with all the
force and fury of an inundation. In the year 1214, which was the year
following that in which Hujaku was killed, Genghis Khan organized a force so
large, for the invasion of China, that he divided it into four different
battalions, which were to enter by different roads, and ravage different
portions of the country. Each of these divisions was by itself a great and
powerful army, and the simultaneous invasion of four such masses of reckless
and merciless enemies filled the whole land with terror and dismay.
The Chinese emperor sent the best bodies of troops under his command to
guard the passes in the mountains, and the bridges and fording-places on the
rivers, hoping in this way to do something toward stemming the tide of these
torrents of invasion. But it was all in vain. Genghis Khan had raised and
equipped his forces by means, in a great measure, of the plunder which he had
obtained in China the year before, and he had made great promises and glowing
representations to his men in respect to the booty to be obtained in this new
campaign. The troops were consequently full of ardor and enthusiasm, and they
pressed on with such impetuosity as to carry all before them.
The Emperor of China, in pursuing his measures of defense, had ordered
all the men capable of bearing arms in the villages and in the open country to
repair to the nearest large city or fortress, there to be enrolled and
equipped for service. The consequence was that the Monguls found in many
places, as they advanced through the country, nobody but infirm old men, and
women and children in the hamlets and villages. A great many of these,
especially such as seemed to be of most consequence, the handsomest and best
of the women, and the oldest children, they seized and took with them in
continuing their march, intending to make slaves of them. They also took
possession of all the gold and silver, and also of all the silks and other
rich and valuable merchandise which they found, and distributed it as plunder.
The spoil which they obtained, too, in sheep and cattle, was enormous. From
it they made up immense flocks and herds, which were driven off into the
Mongul country. The rest were slaughtered, and used to supply the army with
food.
It was the custom of the invaders, after having pillaged a town and its
environs, and taken away all which they could convert to any useful purpose
for themselves, to burn the town itself, and then to march on, leaving in the
place only a smoking heap of ruins, with the miserable remnant of the
population which they had spared wandering about the scene of desolation in
misery and despair.
They made a most cowardly and atrocious use, too, of the prisoners whom
they conveyed away. When they arrived at a fortified town where there was a
garrison or any other armed force prepared to resist them, they would bring
forward these helpless captives, and put them in the fore-front of the battle
in such a manner that the men on the walls could not shoot their arrows at
their savage assailants without killing their own wives and children. The
officers commanded the men to fire notwithstanding. But they were so moved by
the piteous cries which the women and children made that they could not bear
to do it, and so they refused to obey, and in the excitement and confusion
thus produced the Monguls easily obtained possession of the town.
There are two great rivers in China, both of which flow from west to
east, and they are at such a distance from each other and from the frontiers
that they divide the territory into three nearly equal parts. The
northernmost of these rivers is the Hoang Ho. The Monguls in the course of
two years overrun and made themselves masters of almost the whole country
lying north of this river, that is, of about one third of China proper. There
were, however, some strongly-fortified towns which they found it very
difficult to conquer.
Among other places, there was the imperial city of Yen-king, where the
emperor himself resided, which was so strongly defended that for some time the
Monguls did not venture to attack it. At length, however, Genghis Khan came
himself to the place, and concentrated there a very large force. The emperor
and his court were very much alarmed, expecting an immediate assault. Still
Genghis Khan hesitated. Some of his generals urged him to scale the walls,
and so force his way into the city. But he thought it more politic to adopt a
different plan.
So he sent an officer into the town with proposals of peace to be
communicated to the emperor. In these proposals Genghis Khan said that he
himself was inclined to spare the town, but that to appease his soldiers, who
were furious to attack and pillage the city, it would be necessary to make
them considerable presents, and that, if the emperor would agree to such terms
with him as should enable him to satisfy his men in this respect, he would
spare the city and would retire.
The emperor and his advisers were much perplexed at the receipt of this
proposal. There was great difference of opinion among the counselors in
respect to the reply which was to be made to it. Some were in favor of
rejecting it at once. One general, not content with a simple rejection of it,
proposed that, to show the indignation and resentment which they felt in
receiving it, the garrison should march out of the gates and attack the
Monguls in their camp.
There were other ministers, however, who urged the emperor to submit to
the necessity of the case, and make peace with the conqueror. They said that
the idea of going out to attack the enemy in their camp was too desperate to
be entertained for a moment, and if they waited within the walls and attempted
to defend themselves there, they exposed themselves to a terrible danger,
without any countervailing hope of advantage at all commensurate with it; for
if they failed to save the city they were all utterly and irretrievably
ruined; and if, on the other hand, they succeeded in repelling the assault, it
was only a brief respite that they could hope to gain, for the Monguls would
soon return in greater numbers and in a higher state of excitement and fury
than ever. Besides, they said, the garrison was discontented and depressed in
spirit, and would make but a feeble resistance. It was composed mainly of
troops brought in from the country, away from their families and homes, and
all that they desired was to be released from duty, in order that they might
go and see what had become of their wives and children.
The emperor, in the end, adopted this counsel, and he sent a commissioner
to the camp of Genghis Khan to ask on what terms peace could be made. Genghis
Khan stated the conditions. They were very hard, but the emperor was
compelled to submit to them. One of the stipulations was that Genghis Khan
was to receive one of the Chinese princesses, a daughter of the late emperor
Yong-tsi, to add to the number of his wives. There were also to be delivered
to him for slaves five hundred young boys and as many girls, three thousand
horses, a large quantity of silk, and an immense sum of money. As soon as
these conditions were fulfilled, after dividing the slaves and the booty among
the officers and soldiers of his army, Genghis Khan raised the siege and moved
off to the northward.
In respect to the captives that his soldiers had taken in the towns and
villages - the women and children spoken of above - the army carried off with
them all that were old enough to be of any value as slaves. The little
children, who would only, they thought, be in the way, they massacred.
The emperor was by no means easy after the Mongul army had gone. A
marauding enemy like that, bought off by the payment of a ransom, is
exceedingly apt to find some pretext for returning, and the emperor did not
feel that he was safe. Very soon after the Monguls had withdrawn, he proposed
to his council the plan of removing his court southward to the other side of
the Hoang Ho, to a large city in the province of Henan. Some of his
counselors made great objections to this proposal. They said that if the
emperor withdrew in that manner from the northern provinces that portion of
his empire would be irretrievably lost. Genghis Khan would soon obtain
complete and undisputed possession of the whole of it. The proper course to
be adopted, they said, was to remain and make a firm stand in defense of the
capital and of the country. They must levy new troops, repair the
fortifications, recruit the garrison, and lay in supplies of food and of other
military stores, and thus prepare themselves for a vigorous and efficient
resistance in case the enemy should return.
But the emperor could not be persuaded. He said that the treasury was
exhausted, the troops were discouraged, the cities around the capital were
destroyed, and the whole country was so depopulated by the devastations of the
Monguls that no considerable number of fresh levies could be obtained; and
that, consequently, the only safe course for the government to pursue was to
retire to the southward, beyond the river. He would, however, he added, leave
his son, with a strong garrison, to defend the capital.
He accordingly took with him a few favorites of his immediate family and
a small body of troops, and commenced his journey - a journey which was
considered by all the people as a base and ignoble flight. He involved
himself in endless troubles by this step. A revolt broke out on the way among
the guards who accompanied him. One of the generals who headed the revolt
sent a messenger to Genghis Khan informing him of the emperor's abandonment of
his capital, and offering to go over, with all the troops under his command,
to the service of Genghis Khan if Genghis Khan would receive him.
When Genghis Khan heard thus of the retreat of the emperor from his
capital, he was, or pretended to be, much incensed. He considered the
proceeding as in some sense an act of hostility against himself, and, as such,
an infraction of the treaty and a renewal of the war. So he immediately
ordered one of his leading generals - a certain chieftain named Mingan - to
proceed southward at the head of a large army and lay siege to Yen-king again.
The old emperor, who seems now to have lost all spirit, and to have given
himself up entirely to despondency and fear, was greatly alarmed for the
safety of his son the prince, whom he had left in command at Yen-king. He
immediately sent orders to his son to leave the city and come to him. The
departure of the prince, in obedience to these orders, of course threw an
additional gloom over the city, and excited still more the general discontent
which the emperor's conduct had awakened.
The prince, on his departure, left two generals in command of the
garrison. Their names were Wan-yen and Mon-yen. They were left to defend the
city as well as they could from the army of Monguls under Mingan, which was
now rapidly drawing near. The generals were greatly embarrassed and perplexed
with the difficulties of their situation. The means of defense at their
disposal were wholly inadequate, and they knew not what to do.
At length one of them, Wan-yen, proposed to the other that they should
kill themselves. This Mon-yen refused to do. Mon-yen was the commander on
whom the troops chiefly relied, and he considered suicide a mode of deserting
one's post scarcely less dishonorable than any other. He said that his duty
was to stand by his troops, and, if he could not defend them where they were,
to endeavor to draw them away, while there was an opportunity, to a place of
safety.
So Wan-yen, finding his proposal rejected, went away in a rage. He
retired to his apartment, and wrote a dispatch to the emperor, in which he
explained the desperate condition of affairs, and the impossibility of saving
the city, and in the end declared himself deserving of death for not being
able to accomplish the work which his majesty had assigned to him.
He enveloped and sealed this dispatch, and then, calling his domestics
together, he divided among them, in a very calm and composed manner, all his
personal effects, and then took leave of them and dismissed them.
A single officer only now remained with him. In the presence of this
officer he wrote a few words, and then sent him away. As soon as the officer
had gone, he drank a cup of poison which he had previously ordered to be
prepared for him, and in a few minutes was a lifeless corpse.
In the mean time, the other general, Mon-yen, had been making
preparations to leave the city. His plan was to take with him such troops as
might be serviceable to the emperor, but to leave all the inmates of the
palace, as well as the inhabitants of the city, to their fate. Among the
people of the palace were, it seems, a number of the emperor's wives, whom he
had left behind at the time of his own flight, he having taken with him at
that time only a few of the more favored ones. These women who were left,
when they heard that Mon-yen was intending to abandon the city with a view of
joining the emperor in the south, came to him in a body, and begged him to
take them with him.
In order to relieve himself of their solicitations, he said that he would
do so, but he added that he must leave the city himself with the guards to
prepare the way, and that he would return immediately for them. They were
satisfied with this promise, and returned to the palace to prepare for the
journey. Mon-yen at once left the city, and very soon after he had gone,
Mingan, the Mongul general, arrived at the gates, and, meeting with no
effectual resistance, he easily forced his way in, and a scene of universal
terror and confusion ensued. The soldiers spread themselves over the city in
search of plunder, and killed all who came in their way. They plundered the
palace and then set it on fire. So extensive was the edifice, and so vast
were the stores of clothing and other valuables which it contained, even after
all the treasures which could be made available to the conquerors had been
taken away, that the fire continued to burn among the ruins for a month or
more.
What became of the unhappy women who were so cruelly deceived by Mon- yen
in respect to their hopes of escape does not directly appear. They doubtless
perished with the other inhabitants of the city in the general massacre.
Soldiers at such a time, while engaged in the sack and plunder of a city, are
always excited to a species of insane fury, and take a savage delight in
thrusting their pikes into all that come in their way.
Mon-yen excused himself, when he arrived at the quarters of the emperor,
for having thus abandoned the women to their fate by the alleged impossibility
of saving them. He could not have succeeded, he said, in effecting his own
retreat and that of the troops who went with him if he had been encumbered in
his movements by such a company of women. The emperor accepted this excuse,
and seemed to be satisfied with it, though, not long afterward, Mon-yen was
accused of conspiracy against the emperor and was put to death.
Mingan took possession of the imperial treasury, where he found great
stores of silk, and also of gold and silver plate. All these things he sent
to Genghis Khan, who remained still at the north at a grand encampment which
he had made in Tartary.
After this, other campaigns were fought by Genghis Khan in China, in the
course of which he extended his conquests still farther to the southward, and
made himself master of a very great extent of country. After confirming these
conquests, he selected from among such Chinese officers as were disposed to
enter into his service suitable persons to be appointed governors of the
provinces, and in this way annexed them to his dominions; these officers thus
transferring their allegiance from the emperor to him, and covenanting to send
to him the tribute which they should annually collect from their respective
dominions. Every thing being thus settled in this quarter, Genghis Khan next
turned his attention to the western frontiers of his empire, where the Tartar
and Mongul territory bordered on Turkestan and the dominions of the
Mohammedans.
Chapter XIX: The Fall Of Bokhara
Bokhara was a great and beautiful city. It was situated in the midst of
a very fine and fertile country, in a position very favorable for the trade
and commerce of those days. It was also a great seat of learning and of the
arts and sciences. It contained many institutions in which were taught such
arts and sciences as were then cultivated, and students resorted to it from
all the portions of Western Asia.
The city proper was inclosed with a strong wall. Besides this there was
an outer wall, thirty miles in circumference, which inclosed the suburbs of
the town, and also a beautiful region of parks and gardens, which contained
the public places of amusement and the villas of the wealthy inhabitants. It
was this peaceful seat of industry and wealth that Genghis Khan, with his
hordes of ruthless barbarians, was coming now to sack and plunder.
The first city which the Monguls reached on their march toward Bokhara
was one named Zarnuk. In approaching it a large troop rode up toward the
walls, uttering terrific shouts and outcries. The people shut the gates in
great terror. Genghis Khan, however, sent an officer to them to say that it
was useless for them to attempt to resist him, and to advise them to surrender
at once. They must demolish their citadel, he said, and send out all the
young and able-bodied men to Genghis Khan. The officer advised them, too, to
send out presents to Genghis Khan as an additional means of propitiating him
and inducing him to spare the town.
The inhabitants yielded to this advice. The gates were thrown open. All
the young men who were capable of bearing arms were marshaled and marched out
to the Mongul camp. They were accompanied by the older men among the
inhabitants, who took with them the best that the town contained, for
presents. Genghis Khan accepted the presents, ordered the young men to be
enrolled in his army, and then, dismissing the older ones in peace, he resumed
his march and went on his way.
He next came to a town named Nur. One of the men from Zarnuk served as a
guide to show the detachment which was sent to summon the city a near way to
reach it. Nur was a sort of sacred town, having many holy places in it which
were resorted to by many pilgrims and other devotees.
The people of Nur shut the gates and for some time refused to surrender.
But at last, finding that it was useless to attempt to resist, they opened the
gates and allowed the Monguls to come in. Genghis Khan, to punish the
inhabitants, as he said, for even thinking of resisting him, set aside a
supply of cattle and other provisions to keep them from starving, and then
gave up all the rest of the property found in the town to be divided among his
soldiers as plunder.
At length the army reached the great plain in which Bokhara was situated,
and encamped before the town. Bokhara was very large and very populous, as
may well be supposed from its outer wall of thirty miles in circuit, and
Genghis Khan did not expect to make himself master of it without considerable
difficulty and delay. He was, however, very intent on besieging and taking
it, not only on account of the general wealth and importance of the place, but
also because he supposed that the sultan himself was at this time within the
walls. He had heard that the sultan had retreated there with his flying
squadron, taking with him all his treasure.
This was, however, a mistake. The sultan was not there. He had gone
there, it is true, at first, and had taken with him the most valuable of his
treasures, but before Genghis Khan arrived he had secretly withdrawn to
Samarcand, thinking that he might be safer there.
In truth, the sultan was beginning to be very much disheartened and
discouraged. Among other things which occurred to disturb his mind, certain
letters were found and brought to him, as if they had been intercepted, which
letters gave accounts of a conspiracy among his officers to desert him and go
over to the side of Genghis Khan. These letters were not signed, and the
sultan could not discover who had written them, but the pretended conspiracy
which they revealed filled his soul with anxiety and distress.
It was only a pretended conspiracy after all, for the letters were
written by a man in Genghis Khan's camp, and with Genghis Khan's permission or
connivance. This man was a Mohammedan, and had been in the sultan's service;
but the sultan had put to death his father and his brothers on account of some
alleged offense, and he had become so incensed at the act that he had deserted
to Genghis Khan, and now he was determined to do his former sovereign all the
mischief in his power. His intimate knowledge of persons and things connected
with the sultan's court and army enabled him to write these letters in such a
way as to deceive the sultan completely.
It was past midsummer when the army of Genghis Khan laid siege to
Bokhara, and it was not until the spring of the following year that they
succeeded in carrying the outer wall, so strongly was the city fortified and
so well was it defended. After having forced the outer wall, the Monguls
destroyed the suburbs of the town, devastated the cultivated gardens and
grounds, and pillaged the villas. They then took up their position around the
inner wall, and commenced the siege of the city itself in due form.
The sultan had left three of his greatest generals in command of the
town. These men determined not to wait the operations of Genghis Khan in
attacking the walls, but to make a sudden sally from the gates, with the whole
force that could be spared, and attack the besiegers in their intrenchments.
They made this sally in the night, at a time when the Monguls were least
expecting it. They were, however, wholly unsuccessful. They were driven back
into the city with great loss. The generals, it seems, had determined to risk
all on this desperate attempt, and, in case it failed, at once to abandon the
city to its fate. Accordingly, when driven into the city through the gates on
one side, they marched directly through it and passed out through the gates on
the other side, hoping to save themselves and the garrison by this retreat,
with a view of ultimately rejoining the sultan. They, however, went first in a
southerly direction from the city toward the River Amoor. The generals took
their families and those of the principal officers of the garrison with them.
The night was dark, and they succeeded in leaving the city without being
observed. In the morning, however, all was discovered, and Genghis Khan sent
off a strong detachment of well-mounted troops in pursuit. These troops,
after about a day's chase, overtook the flying garrison near the river. There
was no escape for the poor fugitives, and the merciless Monguls destroyed them
almost every one by riding over them, trampling them down with their horses'
hoofs, and cutting them to pieces with their sabres.
In the mean time, while this detachment had been pursuing the garrison,
Genghis Khan, knowing that there were no longer any troops within the city to
defend it, and that every thing there was in utter confusion, determined on a
grand final assault; but, while his men were getting the engines ready to
batter down the walls, a procession, consisting of all the magistrates and
clergy, and a great mass of the principal citizens, came forth from one of the
gates, bearing with them the keys of the city. These keys they offered to
Genghis Khan in token of surrender, and begged him to spare their lives.
The emperor received the keys, and said to the citizens that he would
spare their lives on condition that, if there were any of the sultan's
soldiers concealed in the city, they would give them up, and that they would
also seize and deliver to him any of the citizens that were suspected of being
in the sultan's interest. This they took a solemn oath that they would do.
The soldiers, however - that is, those that remained in the town - were
not delivered up. Most of them retired to the castle, which was a sort of
citadel, and put themselves under the command of the governor of the castle,
who, being a very energetic and resolute man, declared that he never would
surrender.
There were a great many of the young men of the town, sons of the leading
citizens, who also retired to the castle, determined not to yield to the
conqueror.
Genghis Khan, having thus obtained the keys of the city itself, caused
the gates to be opened, and his troops marched in and took possession. He had
promised the citizens that his soldiers should spare the lives of the people
and should not pillage the houses on condition that the magistrates delivered
up peaceably the public magazines of grain and other food to supply his army;
also that all the people who had buried or otherwise concealed gold and
silver, or other treasures, should bring them forth again and give them up, or
else make known where they were concealed. This the people promised that they
would do.
After having entered the town, Genghis Khan was riding about the streets
on horseback at the head of his troop of guards when he came to a large and
very beautiful edifice. The doors were wide, and he drove his horse directly
in. His troops, and the other soldiers who were there, followed him in. There
were also with him some of the magistrates of the town, who were accompanying
him in his progress about the city.
After the whole party had entered the edifice, Genghis Khan looked
around, and then asked them, in a jeering manner, if that was the sultan's
palace.
"No," said they, "it is the house of God."
The building was a mosque.
On hearing this, Genghis Khan alighted from his horse, and, giving the
bridle to one of the principal magistrates to hold, he went up, in a very
irreverent manner, to a sacred place where the priests were accustomed to sit.
He seized the copy of the Koran which he found there, and threw it down under
the feet of the horse. After amusing himself for a time in desecrating the
temple by these and other similar performances, he caused his soldiers to
bring in their provisions, and allowed them to eat and drink in the temple, in
a riotous manner, without any regard to the sacredness of the place, or to the
feelings of the people of the town which he outraged by this conduct.
A few days after this Genghis Khan assembled all the magistrates and
principal citizens of the town, and made a speech to them from an elevated
stand or pulpit which was erected for the purpose. He began his speech by
praising God, and claiming to be an object of his special favor, in proof of
which he recounted the victories which he had obtained, as he said, through
the Divine aid. He then went on to denounce the perfidious conduct of the
sultan toward him in making a solemn treaty of peace with him and then
treacherously murdering his merchants and embassadors. He said that the
sultan was detestable tyrant, and that God had commissioned him to rid the
earth of all such monsters. He said, in conclusion, that he would protect
their lives, and would not allow his soldiers to take away their household
goods, provided they surrendered to him fairly and honestly all their money
and other treasures; and if any of them refused to do this, or to tell where
their treasures were hid, he would put them to the torture, and compel them to
tell.
The wretched inhabitants of the town, feeling that they were entirely at
the mercy of the terrible hordes that were in possession of the city, did not
attempt to conceal any thing. They brought forward their hidden treasures,
and even offered their household goods to the conqueror if he was disposed to
take them. They were only anxious to save, if possible, their dwellings and
their lives. Genghis Khan appeared at first to be pleased with the submissive
spirit which they manifested, but at last, under pretense that he heard of
some soldiers being concealed somewhere, and perhaps irritated at the
citadel's holding out so long against him, he ordered the town to be set on
fire. The buildings were almost all of wood, and the fire raged among them
with great fury. Multitudes of the inhabitants perished afterward from want
and exposure. The citadel immediately afterward surrendered, and it would
seem that Genghis Khan began to feel satisfied with the amount of misery which
he had caused, for it is said that he spared the lives of the governor and of
the soldiers, although we might have expected that he would have massacred
them all.
The citadel was, however, demolished, and thus the town itself, and all
that pertained to it, became a mass of smoking ruins. The property pillaged
from the inhabitants was divided among the Mongul troops, while the people
themselves went away, to roam as vagabonds and beggars over the surrounding
country, and to die of want and despair.
What difference is there between such a conqueror as this and the captain
of a band of pirates or of robbers, except in the immense magnitude of the
scale on which he perpetrates his crimes?
The satisfaction which Genghis Khan felt at the capture of Bokhara was
greatly increased by the intelligence which he received soon afterward from
the two princes whom he had sent to lay siege to Otrar, informing him that
that city had fallen into their hands, and that the governor of it, the
officer who had so treacherously put to death the embassadors and the
merchants, had been taken and slain. The name of this governor was Gayer
Khan. The sultan, knowing that Genghis Khan would doubtless make this city
one of his first objects of attack, left the governor a force of fifty
thousand men to defend it. He afterward sent him an additional force of ten
thousand men, under the command of a general named Kariakas.
With thrse soldiers the governor shut himself up in the city. He knew
very well that if he surrendered or was taken he could expect no mercy, and he
went to work accordingly strengthening the fortifications, and laying in
stores of provisions, determined to fight to the last extremity. The captain
of the guard who came to assist him had not the same reason for being so very
obstinate in the defense of the town, and this difference in the situation of
the two commanders led to difficulty in the end, as we shall presently see.
The Mongul princes began the siege of Otrar by filling up the ditches
that encircled the outer wall of the town in the places where they wished to
plant their battering-rams to make breaches in the walls. They were hindered
a great deal in their work, as is usual in such cases, by the sallies of the
besieged, who rushed upon them in the night in great numbers, and with such
desperate fury that they often succeeded in destroying some of the engines, or
setting them on fire before they could be driven back into the town. This
continued for some time, until at last the Mongul princes began to be
discouraged, and they sent word to their father, who was then engaged in the
siege of Bokhara, informing him of the desperate defense which was made by the
garrison of Otrar, and asking his permission to turn the siege into a blockade
- that is, to withdraw from the immediate vicinity of the walls, and to
content themselves with investing the city closely on every side, so as to
prevent any one from going out or coming in, until the provisions of the town
should be exhausted, and the garrison be starved into a surrender. In this
way, they said, the lives of vast numbers of the troops would be saved.
But their father sent back word to them that they must do no such thing,
but must go on and fight their way into the town, no matter how many of the
men were killed.
So the princes began again with fresh ardor, and they pushed forward
their operations with such desperate energy that in less than a month the
outer wall, and the works of the besieged to defend it, were all in ruins. The
towers were beaten down, the ramparts were broken, and many breaches were made
through which the besiegers might be expected at any moment to force their way
into the town. The besieged were accordingly obliged to abandon the outer
walls and retire within the inner lines.
The Monguls now had possession of the suburbs, and, after pillaging them
of all that they could convert to their own use, and burning and destroying
every thing else, they advanced to attack the inner works; and here the
contest between the besiegers and the garrison was renewed more fiercely than
ever. The besieged continued their resistance for five months, defending
themselves by every possible means from the walls, and making desperate
sallies from time to time in order to destroy the Monguls' engines and kill
the men.
At length Kariakas, the captain of the guard, who had been sent to assist
the governor in the defense of the town, began to think it was time that the
carnage should cease and that the town should be surrendered. But the
governor, who knew that he would most assuredly be beheaded if in any way he
fell into the hands of the enemy, would not listen to any proposal of the
kind. He succeeded, also, in exciting among the people of the town, and among
the soldiers of the garrison, such a hatred of the Monguls, whom he
represented as infidels of the very worst character, the enemies alike of God
and man, that they joined him in the determination not to surrender.
Kariakas now found himself an object of suspicion and distrust in the
town and in the garrison on account of his having made the proposal to
surrender, and feeling that he was not safe, he determined to make a separate
peace for himself and his ten thousand by going out secretly in the night and
giving himself up to the princes. He thought that by doing this, and by
putting the Monguls in possession of the gate through which his troops were to
march out, so as to enable them to gain admission to the city, his life would
be spared, and that he might perhaps be admitted into the service of Genghis
Khan.
But he was mistaken in this idea. The princes said that a man who would
betray his own countrymen would betray them if he ever had a good opportunity.
So they ordered him and all his officers to be slain, and the men to be
divided among the soldiers as slaves.
They nevertheless took possession of the gate by which the deserters had
come out, and by this means gained admission to the city. The governor fled
to the citadel with all the men whom he could assemble, and shut himself up in
it. Here he fought desperately for a month, making continual sallies at the
head of his men, and doing every thing that the most resolute and reckless
bravery could do to harass and beat off the besiegers. But all was in vain.
In the end the walls of the citadel were so broken down by the engines brought
to bear upon them, that one day the Monguls, by a determined and desperate
assault made on all sides simultaneously, forced their way in, through the
most dreadful scenes of carnage and destruction, and began killing without
mercy every soldier that they could find.
The soldiers defended themselves to the last. Some took refuge in narrow
courts and lanes, and on the roofs of the houses - for the citadel was so
large that it formed of itself quite a little town - and fought desperately
till they were brought down by the arrows of the Monguls. The governor took
his position, in company with two men who were with him, on a terrace of his
palace, and refused to surrender, but fought on furiously, determined to kill
any one who attempted to come near him. His wife was near, doing all in her
power to encourage and sustain him.
[See Governor On The Terrace]
Genghis Khan had given orders to the princes not to kill the governor,
but to take him alive. He wished to have the satisfaction of disposing of him
himself. For this reason the soldiers who attempted to take him on the
terrace were very careful not to shoot their arrows at him, but only at the
men who were with him, and while they did so a great many of them were killed
by the arrows which the governor and his two friends discharged at those who
attempted to climb up to the place where they were standing.
After a while the two men were killed, but the governor remained alive.
Yet nobody could come near him. Those that attempted it were shot, and fell
back again among their companions below. The governor's wife supplied him
with arrows as fast as he could use them. At length all the arrows were
spent, and then she brought him stones, which he hurled down upon his
assailants when they tried to climb up to him. But at last so many ascended
together that the governor could not beat them all back, and he was at length
surrounded and secured, and immediately put in irons.
The princes wrote word at once to their father that the town was taken,
and that the governor was in their hands a prisoner. They received orders in
return to bring him with them to Bokhara. While on the way, however, another
order came requiring them to put the prisoner to death, and this order was
immediately executed.
What was the fate of his courageous and devoted wife has never been
known.
Chapter XXI: Death Of The Sultan
In the mean time, while Jughi and the other generals were ravaging the
country with their detachments, and besieging and capturing all the secondary
towns and fortresses that came in their way, as related in the last chapter,
Genghis Khan himself, with the main body of the army, had advanced to
Samarcand in pursuit of the sultan, who had, as he supposed, taken shelter
there. Samarcand was the capital of the country, and was then, as it has been
since, a great and renowned city.
Besides the sultan himself, whom Genghis Khan was pursuing, there were
the ladies of his family whom he wished also to capture. The two principal
ladies were the sultana and the queen-mother. The queen-mother was a lady of
very great distinction. She had been greatly renowned during the lifetime of
her husband, the former sultan, for her learning, her piety, the kindness of
her heart, and the general excellence of her character, so far as her dealings
with her subjects and friends were concerned, and her influence throughout the
realm had been unbounded. At some periods of her life she had exercised a
great deal of political power, and at one time she bore the very grand title
of Protectress of the faith of the world. She exercised the power which she
then possessed, in the main, in a very wise and beneficial manner. She
administered justice impartially. She protected the weak, and restrained the
oppressions of the strong. She listened to all the cases which were brought
before her with great attention and patience, and arrived almost always at
just conclusions respecting them. With all this, however, she was very strict
and severe, and, as has almost always been the case with women raised to the
possession of irresponsible power, she was unrelenting and cruel in the
extreme whenever, as she judged, any political necessity required her to act
with decision. Her name was Khatun. ^*
[Footnote *: Pronounced Cah-toon.]
Khatun was not now at Samarcand. She was at Karazm, a city which was the
chief residence of the court. She had been living there in retirement ever
since the death of her husband, the present sultan's father.
Samarcand itself, as has already been said, was a great and splendid
city. Like most of the other cities, it was inclosed in a double wall,