The Mongol Empire

Its Rise and Legacy

Michael Prawdin, Michael Curtis

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2017
• Topic: History
• eBook ISBN:
  9781351479288
• Subtopic: Asian History
• Index: History

In his prologue to The Mongol Empire, Michael Prawdin sets the stage for the last and mightiest onslaught of the nomads upon the civilized world. He tells of the many rejoicings in Europe over the successes of the Crusaders in A.D. 1221. But little did Europe know that two decades later, the Mongol hordes organized by Genghis Khan would turn the Middle East into a heap of ruins and spread terror throughout the West. A work of enduring scholarship and literary excellence, The Mongol Empire is a classic on the rise and fall of the world's largest empire. It describes the incredible ascent of the Mongol people, which, through the political and military genius of Genghis Khan, overwhelmed and subdued the nations of most of the world. It demonstrates the transformation of barbarous nomads into the most efficient rulers of their time and describes the crumbling of their vast empire and the assumption of its legacy by the formerly subjugated China and Russia. Maurice Collis in Time and Tide said of The Mongol Empire: "It has the rare merit of being both scholarly and exciting...The entire world comes on to his canvas, romantic and fantastical persons pass in our view, and at the conclusion we realize that we have seen the whole of what Marco Polo saw only in part. " while The Observer commented, "it is a fine book, full of dramatic occasion well used, clear in proportions."

Part One
Jenghiz Khan

Chapter I
Young Temuchin

I

CHINA'S enemies were as old as China herself. They were the barbarians of the north, the nomadic peoples which, with their flocks and herds, moved from place to place along the margin of the Gobi Desert.

As early as the eighth century B.C., when China was nothing more than a loose agglomeration of feudal States and the Emperor of the Chu Dynasty was not so much a ruler as a mediator between the Chinese people and their gods, the barbarians of the Gobi Desert invaded the Middle Kingdom and compelled the Son of Heaven to remove his residence far into the interior of the country. During the third century B.C., the Tsin Dynasty unified China into a military State, and one of the Tsin Emperors connected up the walls with which the individual feudalist princes had endeavoured to protect their domains against the barbarians, to form one Great Wall nearly two thousand miles long which was to safeguard Northern China against the nomads. Within a few decades, however, Hunnish tribes crossed even this bulwark. At length the great Emperors of the Han Dynasty, who conquered the whole of Central Asia to beyond the Pamirs—bringing China into contact with the Parthian realm that stretched into Asia Minor and opened a route for silk trade with classical Rome—ere able to defeat the Gobi barbarians and to drive them back into the desert.

But they could be neither destroyed nor subjugated. When their mounted hordes were scattered, in their flight westward the barbarians assembled the tribes on their course. This continually growing human avalanche overran the civilised States in their path, establishing short-lived dominions upon the ruins, or, when they were repelled, they circumvented this state and moved farther on, inciting new and ever new tribes to war. Out of the forests of the north and out of the surrounding mountains, there pressed into the Vacated areas of Mongolia and Central Asia more and more barbarian hordes of Mongolian, Tungusian, and Turkish stock, eager for pasturelands and eager for booty. Hungry for war and rapine, they rapidly refilled the places from which others had been expelled, ever on the watch for the first signs of weakness in their settled neighbours. Meanwhile they carried on unceasing petty warfare among themselves for grazing-grounds, live-stock, and the pitiful possessions of the nomads. Things went on like this for century after century, during a thousand years. The names and the races changed, but it was always the same picture.

These nomads could not write, the only record of their doings being kept by oral tradition in tales told round camp fire. Thus each successive generation learned about the warlike doings of its ancestors, and a Mongol of noble blood knew his lineage for at least seven generations back.

Yesukai-Bagatur, indeed, Yesukai the Strong, could trace his genealogy for eleven generations. His remotest ancestor, three-and-twenty generations back, had been Burte Chino, Grey Wolf, a prince from the distant land of Tibet, whose wife had been named Maral Goa, or Radiant Doe. Yesukai's grandfather was Kabul Khan, who ruled all the Yakka Mongols, and had even ventured to tweak the beard of the mighty Kin Emperor far away to the south-east.

But then the Kin Empire, protected by a wall on which six horsemen could ride abreast, a wall without end, entered into alliance with hostile tribes of Tartars who pastured their herds eastward and south-eastward of the Mongols between the Lake of Puir Nor and the Khingan Mountains. Though Kabul Khan killed many of the Chinese soldiers and many of the Tartars, by the time when he died of poison the power of the Mongols had been broken. His son Katul, Yesukai's uncle and last Khan of the Mongols, led many famous campaigns against the enemy, but these were numerous as the sands of the desert and the Tartars grew stronger and stronger.

Soon many of the tribes of the steppes came to call themselves Tartars, so that the glory of this name might attach to them, and the name of the Mongols passed into oblivion. Their various tribes were called after their leaders.

When Yesukai's three brothers and many of his cousins and relatives chose him Bagatur of their Kiut-Borjigin tribe (the greyeyed Kiuts) there were still as many as forty thousand tents under his command. So the army commanders of the Kin Empire sent envoys to him asking him to ally himself with them against the Tartar tribes who had grown too strong.

He defeated the Tartars, took their chieftain Temuchin prisoner, and, laden with booty, returned to his camp which was on the Delugun-Boldok water-parting beside the upper reaches of the River Onon—to find that his favourite wife Yulun-Eke (Mother Cloud) had given birth to a son. According to ancient custom the name of a person must commemorate the most important incident at the time of his birth, and for this reason Yesukai called his first-born Temuchin. At birth the infant held in his little clenched fist a lump of clotted blood that looked like a red jewel, and the shaman prophesied that Temuchin would become a mighty warrior.

This child Temuchin was in due course to be the greatest conqueror in history, Jenghiz Khan. He established an empire which stretched from the Mediterranean to the Pacific, from the Siberian Taiga to the Himalayas—the mightiest realm that ever existed in the world.

His people and his descendants honoured him as a divine being —Ssutu-Bogdo—, the course of whose life naturally corresponded to the "heavenly" twelve-year periods of the Mongolian calendar; and since Jenghiz Khan died in the year 1227, which was known as Gach—the Year of the Pig—the chroniclers declared that his birth had taken place in the year Gach, 1155, so that his life lasted exactly six twelve-year periods. But according to the Chinese annalist, the birth occurred in Morin, the Year of the Horse, 1162.

When Temuchin was nine years old, Yesukai-Bagatur—Yesukai the Strong—set forth, according to custom, to seek a wife for his son from a distant tribe.

Never had little Temuchin travelled so far before. During the migrations of the horde from the winter pastures to the summer pastures and back again, they had kept in their tribal territory between the River Onon and the River Kerulen. They passed across wide fertile valleys between high mountains beset with thick, dark forests. On either hand were swift-running streams along whose margin cranes strutted, while on the islets in the rivers wild geese made their nests and the air was filled with grey gulls on which the boys practised archery.

But on the present journey the grass-land became scarcer. Black rocks, sometimes covered with yellow moss as if with rust, cropped out of the soil, the mountains were less lofty, but naked crags abounded, and in the ravines between these the wind roared like a waterfall. They passed Mount Darchan, traversing a region where huge black blocks of stone were scattered—a place still known in the folk-speech as "jenghiz Khan's Smithy".

They had to cross ridge after ridge, and, after each of these, Temuchin saw that the descent of the switchback was not so long as the climb had been. They were reaching higher levels. Instead of trees there were only thorny scrub and heaths, while the grass was shorter and scarcer. At night the travellers usually camped beside a lake, where better fodder was to be had for the horses and there was a chance of shooting game.

Beside one such lake they met Dai Sechen—Dai the Wise—the chieftain of one of the Jungirat tribes.

Many tribes lived in the steppes of Mongolia, whose only southern boundary was the Great Wall of China. Immediately to the north of the Wall dwelt the Onguts, and between the Onguts and the Tartars, the Jungirats.

Yesukai explained that he was travelling to find a bride for Temuchin. Whereupon Dai rejoined that in a dream he had seen a white falcon holding a raven in his talons. Both men knew what this betokened. The white falcon with the raven in its talons was the banner of the Borjigin, and Dai Sechen had a daughter named Bortei, of the same age as Temuchin. They rode together to the pasture-land of the Jungirats.

Now they had left the steppe-land, to reach bare, rocky mountains, stretches of flat stone, strips of white sand, all with a scorched look, hills and wandering dunes whipped by a terrific wind which threw clouds of sand over the riders so that they could hardly advance. Then again came naked mountains, red this time; and at last they reached steppes once more. They had crossed the Gobi Desert. After each new ridge they now made a longer descent, into wide valleys, with richer pastures and forests of elm-trees. But these were not thick forests like those of Temuchin's homeland beside the Onon.

Here dwelt the Jungirats. Dai Sechen's tribe was rich and powerful. Yesukai knew that the Chinese were wont to call the Onguts and Jungirats "White Tartars", in contradistinction to the "Black Tartars", the name they gave to the other Mongolian tribes. He saw that their felt-tents were more richly adorned than those of his own people, their clothing was finer and costlier, their weapons were more skilfully ornamented. As for Bortei, she was handsome and well-built.

Dai Sechen was also delighted with young Temuchin. The youngster rode like a grown-up, knew nothing of fatigue, was tall for his age, adroit and vigorous. The cat-like eyes that shone out of the olive-tinted visage were shrewd, and took note of all that was going on around. Nothing seemed to escape them.

Yesukai gave Dai Sechen his splendid saddle-horse, accepted gifts in return, and it was agreed that Temuchin was to stay here until the two hordes should send their live-stock to pasture together—a sign that an alliance was to be cemented.

II

Temuchin quickly realised what the neighbourhood of the Kin realm meant to the Jungirats. Chinese merchants were constant visitors, bringing fine textiles, well-hardened shields with a painted lacquer cover, ivory quivers, and many kinds of ornaments, to exchange for the wares they wanted, such as furs and hides, horses, ewes and wethers, camels and yaks, not forgetting salt which the Jungirats were accustomed to collect on the banks of various Mongolian lakes. Never did these traders come emptyhanded to a man with whom they wished to do business, always presenting him with some article of clothing, a trinket for his women, sweets for his children. Temuchin realised that the tents of the Jungirats abounded with treasures.—How wonderful a country must be this China which could export such an abundance of remarkable objects without seeming to miss them.

He was eager to learn more about the wonders of the Kin realm, frequenting the company of the merchants from afar, the men whose knowledge and skill he admired, and he was quick to note with what keen judgment they picked out the best cattle from a herd and chose the finest hides from the Jungirats' stock. They told him that Kin was a hundred times as powerful as the most powerful of the nomadic tribes, that its population lived in large cities fortified with lofty walls, and that within these towns was wealth beyond compare. When he wondered why Kin should send forth merchants to exchange their valuables for a few pitiful skins and beasts, instead of dispatching an army to take what they wanted without further ado, Dai Sechen told him that townsmen were by no means fervid fighters, not knowing how to ride, to hunt, to use bow and arrow, or to throw a javelin.

The boy began to feel contempt for these people of the towns. Why did Dai Sechen trade with them instead of making a foray into Kin and seizing the wealth of a skilful but feeble folk? Here—upon the merchants informed him that China was ruled by an Emperor who paid and fed hundreds of thousands of men to guard the towns against this very possibility of an inroad by the nomads. He learned a little about Chinese military art, about fighting-chariots, about infantry armed with long spears, advancing rank behind rank, and easily able to repel a cavalry charge.

These tales made a strong impression on the lad. Still, was it not possible that these inventions were only the wiles of unwarlike men who were afraid of such warriors as his father and Dai Sechen? Had they all been valiant fighters, they might have told a very different story. Perhaps at this early date there began to dawn in him the idea of what vast possibilities there would be for a nation consisting exclusively of warriors, who could conquer these townsmen and take away their treasures.

Why should there not be a realm of warriors ruled by one Emperor? Surely his father Yesukai would be able to unite the Mongols under his banner, and Dai Sechen the Jungirats? He himself, Temuchin, might be the heir of both.

If he entertained such thoughts, he kept them to himself, having already learned that silence is golden. He was friendly, observant, and taciturn, winning everyone's good graces, while waiting until he was fourteen years old, when he could marry.

We do not know precisely how long Temuchin dwelt among the Jungirats. Most of the chroniclers declare that Yesukai, when on his way home from his bridal mission, was poisoned by the Tartars, but this can hardly have been the case, for we know that Temuchin was thirteen years old when his father died. According to one legend the youth spent several years in Kin, but the probable foundation for this is that the pasture-lands of the Jungirats were, as far as the Mongols were concerned, upon the road to Kin. Besides, had Temuchin stayed so short a time with Dai Sechen, the latter's devotion to him would have been incomprehensible, and we know that Bortei remained unwedded to another though her betrothed was four years absent.

It would therefore seem to be a fact that Temuchin had been staying three years with Dai Sechen when Munlik, one of Yesukai's relatives, arrived to say that the old man was craving for his son, who was to return forthwith to the horde beside the Onon. Dai Sechen was not best pleased, since the coming of such an emissary with such a demand was unconventional. He had grown fond of Temuchin, however, and agreed to let the lad go upon promise of a speedy return.

Swift are the steeds of the riders of the steppes, but swifter still spread the tidings of an important happening. Speedily all the tribes knew that Yesukai was dying. He had crossed the land of the Tartars, and encountered there some tribes that were holding festival. They invited him to the feast, and refusal would have been an intolerable insult. Yesukai and his retainers were given places of honour, and the noble guest was helped to the finest portions of meat. He forgot that a wise guest eats only food that his host has tasted, but the Tartars had not forgotten the defeat inflicted upon thein thirteen years before. When Yesukai continued his journey it was as a man doomed to death by poison, so that by the time when Temuchin, riding by day and by night, reached his father's horde, the great tent was already echoing to the death-keening of Yulun-Eke and of Yesukai's subsidiary wife.

III

Yesukai had united many of the tribes under his leadership—but were men to follow a boy merely because they had followed Yesukai? The tribe of the Taijiuts was strong enough and numerous enough to protect its flocks and herds unaided on the pastures. Their chieftain Targutai was the first to break away, and other chieftains soon followed him. Yulun-Eke hoisted the tribal emblem, a lance-shaft bearing four black horsetails and the frontlet of a yak, mounted her steed, and, attended by her train, rode after the seceders. But some of her followers said: "Even a deep pond will dry up, even a strong stone will crumble—what have we to do with a woman and her children?" These words sowed doubt in the minds and the hearts of those who still vacillated. A woman could not hold sway over men. One tribe after another deserted the Yesukai family, each taking with it horses and sheep in numbers which encroached more and more upon the tithe that belonged to the chieftain.

Who was to restrain the deserters? What was to be done when even Munlik, to whom the dying Yesukai had entrusted the care of his family, proved false, with his sons?

Mute and powerless was Yulun-Eke as she watched the melting away of her possessions, until at length of the mighty horde of Yesukai there remained only her own tents and those of his second wife. Hard put to it were Yulun-Eke, Temuchin, his brother Kasar, and his half-brothers Bektor and Belgutei to keep the remnants of the flocks and herds together, to hunt up stray beasts, to catch fish with hook and line, to collect berries, edible plants, and roots—for the two younger brothers and the sisters were still children.

Especially trying was it in winter, when fodder became so scarce that the beasts grew thin; and worst of all towards the end of winter, when none of the live-stock could be slaughtered to keep the rest alive. Often the family got nothing to eat but the leaves of wild plants, roots, and boiled millet—food which the Mongols in general despised.

During this lean time, every badger, every marmot, was a prize; and although Temuchin was the best tracker, and his brother Kasar was the best archer who could register almost unfailing hits, it often happened that their two half-brothers, Bektor and Belgutei, d...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• MAPS
• INTRODUCTION TO THE TRANSACTION EDITION
• PROLOGUE EUROPE AWAITS KING DAVID
• PART ONE—JENGHIZ KHAN
• PART TWO—THE MONGOL EMPIRE
• PART THREE—THE THREE REALMS
• PART FOUR—TAMERLANE
• PART FIVE—THE HERITAGE
• EPILOGUE—THE KEY OF ASIA
• GENEALOGICAL TREE OF THE JENGHIZIDES
• CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE
• PRINCIPAL PERSONS MENTIONED IN THE BOOK
• BIBLIOGRAPHY
• INDEX