The Mongols : A History E-Book

Jeremiah Curtin

• Herausgeber: BoD - Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 844

Beschreibung

"The Mongols: A History" by Jeremiah Curtin is an in-depth exploration of the Mongol Empire and its impact on the world. Curtin, an eminent historian and ethnographer, offers a detailed analysis of the origins, conquests and culture of the Mongols, spanning a period from the 12th to the 14th century. The book is preceded by a preface by Theodore Roosevelt, underlining the historical and cultural importance of the Mongol Empire. Curtin begins by describing the rise of the Mongols under the leadership of Genghis Khan, uniting the nomadic tribes of the Eurasian steppe into a formidable military force. The author examines the innovative military strategies and tactics that enabled the Mongols to conquer a vast expanse of territory, stretching from China to Eastern Europe. He highlights the decisive battles and military campaigns that marked the Empire's rapid expansion. The book also explores the Mongols' social and political structure, highlighting their system of governance based on loyalty and competence. Curtin analyzes the laws and reforms introduced by Genghis Khan and his successors, which helped to stabilize and effectively administer such a vast and diverse empire. In addition to the military and political aspects, "The Mongols: A History" delves into the culture and daily life of the Mongols. Curtin describes their traditions, religious beliefs and nomadic lifestyle. He also discusses the Mongols' interactions with conquered peoples, including their religious tolerance and their ability to integrate different cultures into their own society. The book looks at the decline of the Mongol Empire after the death of Genghis Khan, analyzing the internal and external factors that led to the fragmentation and fall of the empire. Curtin concludes by reflecting on the lasting legacy of the Mongols, highlighting their influence on the development of global civilization, particularly in terms of trade, communication and culture.

Leseprobe

TABLE OF CONTENTS

THE MONGOLS: A HISTORY

CHAPTER I - CLASSIFICATION, MYTH AND REALITY

CHAPTER II - TEMUDJIN BEGINS HIS MIGHTY CAREER

CHAPTER III - WANG KHAN OF THE KERAITS

CHAPTER IV - TEMUDJIN TAKES THE TITLE OF JINGHIS AND REWARDS HIS EMPIRE BUILDERS

CHAPTER V - JINGHIS KHAN'S TRIUMPHANT ADVANCE BEYOND THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA

CHAPTER VI - DESTRUCTION OF THE KWARESMIAN EM-PIRE-

CHAPTER VII - FLIGHT AND DEATH OF MOHAMMED

CHAPTER VIII - DEATH AND BURIAL OF THE CON-QUEROR

CHAPTER IX - PERSIA AT THE TIME OF JINGHIS KHAN's DEATH

CHAPTER X - CONDITION OF PERSIA IN 1254, WHEN HU-LAGU CAME TO CONQUER AND TO SLAUGHTER

CHAPTER XI - THE ASSASSIN COMMONWEALTH AND ITS DESTRUCTION BY THE MONGOLS

CHAPTER XII - HULAGU DESTROYS THE ASSASSIN COM-MONWEALTH

CHAPTER XIII - DESTRUCTION OF THE KALIFAT

CHAPTER XIV - VICTORY OF KUTUZ, SULTAN OF EGYPT

CHAPTER XV - DESTRUCTION OF THE KIN EMPIRE

CHAPTER XVI - EXPEDITION AGAINST CHINA AND DEATH OF OGOTAI

CHAPTER XVII - KUBILAI KHAN DESTROYS THE SUNG DYNASTY

CHAPTER XVIII - KUBILAFS ACTIVITY IN CHINA AND WAR WITH KAIDU

CHAPTER XIX - EXPULSION OF THE MONGOLS FROM CHINA

THEODORE ROOSEVELT, President of the United States of Amer-ica, I dedicate to you the present volume entitled “The Mongols, a History.” I do this because on September 5th, 1901, in the city of Burling-ton where you addressed Vermont veterans, I asked permission to make the dedication and you gave it. You were Vice-President at that time.

I made this request because I have great respect and admiration for you as a man, as a leader of men, and a scholar; and because of the way in which I came first to know you.

In 1891 you, as Chairman of the Civil Service Commission, were in Washington. I had just returned to that city from a work of two years among Pacific Coast Indians. Of these, two tribes in California had asked me to intercede for them with the President, who in those days was Benjamin Harrison. These Indians were among the truly wretched and suffering. One tribe of them had been almost exterminated through a massacre inflicted by white men. The other reduced to a feeble remnant through various man-killing processes. Still they were worthy of earnest attention. Their myths have a beauty and a value which should preserve them till literature perishes. These two tribes were the Wintu and the Yana whose account of the world and its origin I published later on in “Creation Myths of Primitive America.”

On reaching Washington I went to Frederick T. Greenhalge, my classmate, who then represented a part of Massachusetts in Congress, but afterward was one of that Commonwealth’s renowned governors. Greenhalge tried to induce a strong man or two from the Senate or House to assist us to act on the President, but, though promises were made, no man came with support, and we went alone to the White House. The case had been stated clearly on two pages which I held ready for delivery. When I had given the reason of my coming the President answered: “I see no way to help yon. What can I do in this mat-ter?” “You can give,” replied I, “the executive impulse. Send this state-ment to the Secretary of the Interior, and direct him to act on it.” “That will suffice,” added Greenhalge. “I will do it,” said the President, after thinking a moment. He took my paper, jotted down the directions I had suggested, and sent them to the Secretary.

We came away greatly satisfied, and halted some moments at the head of the staircase. The President’s chamber was on the second story. All at once in the large room below us I saw a young man, alert in his bearing and perfectly confident. He gazed at the ceiling and walls of the room, and was thoroughly occupied. There was no one else in the apartment. I asked Greenhalge to look at him. “That man,” said I, “looks precisely as if he had examined this building, and finding it suitable has made up his mind to inhabit it.” “He is a living picture of that purpose,” replied Greenhalge. “But do you not know him? That is Theodore Roosevelt, Chairman of the Civil Service Commission, I must make you ac-quainted. But first listen to a prophecy: That man down there who wants this house will get it. He will live here as President.”

On reaching the foot of the staircase Greenhalge met you and made us acquainted. We conversed for some moments, and then you were called to the President. You and I did not meet for some years after that day at the White House. You were toiling at problems of government and service, looking ahead always, looking to things over which you are brooding and toiling this moment. Some of the problems have been solved, others still demand solution.

My work led me to various parts of the earth, arid around it. But at home or abroad I watched your activity with care and deep interest. Not very long after that prophecy I read for the first time this statement concerning you: "We need just stich a man to be President.” These words, uttered casually at that juncture, were like the still small voice, their might was in their quality.

When a few years of service, unique in many ways, had brought you to the Navy you accomplished your task in that place and went farther immediately. By this time your name and the office of President were associated in the minds of many people. Next came the Cuban war with experience and triumph. And then you were governor at Albany. While still in that office you were named for Vice-President, and elected. Later you were President. But only when elected by the people could you act as seemed best to you and not as antecedents commanded.

I have watched and studied your career with deeper interest than that of any man who has ever been President of the United States. There is no case in our history of such concordance between the judgment of a people and the acts of a man. “Thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many.”

Jeremiah Curtin.

St. Hyacinthe, P. Q., September 6, 1906.

FOREWORD

The death of Jeremiah Curtin robbed America of one of her two or three foremost scholars. Mr. Curtin, who was by birth a native of Wisconsin, at one time was in the diplomatic service of the Government; but his chief work was in literature. The extraordinary facility with which he learned any language, his gift of style in his own language, his industry, his restless activity and desire to see strange nations and out of the way peoples, and his great gift of imagination which enabled him to appreciate the epic sweep of vital historical events, all combined to render his work of peculiar value. His extraordinary translations of the Polish novels of Sienkiewicz, especially of those dealing with medieval Poland and her struggles with the Tartar, the Swede and the German, would in themselves have been enough to establish a first class reputation for any man. In addition he did remarkable work in connection with Indian, Celtic and other folk tales. But nothing that he did was more important than his studies of the rise of the mighty Mongol Empire and its deca-dence. In this particular field no other American or English scholar has ever approached him.

Indeed, it is extraordinary to see how ignorant even the best scholars of America and England are of the tremendous importance in world history of the nation-shattering Mongol invasions. A noted Englishman of letters not many years ago wrote a charming essay on the Thirteenth Century — an essay showing his wide learning, his grasp of historical events, and the length of time that he had devoted to the study of the century. Yet the essayist not only never mentioned but was evidently ig-norant of the most stupendous fact of the century — the rise of Genghis Khan and the spread of the Mongol power from the Yellow Sea to the Adriatic and the Persian Gulf Ignorance like this is partly due to the natural tendency among men whose culture is that of Western Europe to think of history as only European history and of European history as only the history of Latin and Teutonic Europe. But this does not entirely excuse ignorance of such an event as the Mongol-Tartar invasion, which affected half of Europe far more profoundly than the Crusades. It is this ignorance, of course accentuated among those who are not scholars, which accounts for the possibility of such comically absurd remarks as the one not infrequently made at the time of the Japa-nese-Russian war, that for the first time since Salamis Asia had conquered Europe. As a matter of fact the recent military supremacy of the white or European races is a matter of only some three centuries. For the four preceding centuries, that is, from the beginning of the thirteenth to the seventeenth, the Mongol and Turkish armies generally had the upper hand in any contest with European foes, appearing in Europe always as invaders and often as conquerors; while no ruler of Europe of their days had to his credit such mighty feats of arms, such wide conquests, as Genghis Khan, as Timour the Limper, as Bajazet, Selim and Amu rath, as Baber and Akbar.

The rise of the Mongol power under Genghis Khan was unheralded and unforeseen, and it took the world as completely by surprise as the rise of the Arab power six centuries before. When the thirteenth century opened Genghis Khan was merely one among a number of other obscure Mongol chiefs and neither he nor his tribe had any reputation whatever outside of the barren plains of Central Asia, where they and their fellow-barbarians lived on horseback among their flocks and herds. Neither in civilized nor semi-civilized Europe, nor in civilized nor semi-civilized Asia, was he known or feared, any more, for instance, than the civilized world of today knows or fears the Senoussi, or any obscure black mahdi in the region south of the Sahara. At the moment, Europe had lost fear of aggression from either Asia or Africa. In Spam the power of the Moors had just been reduced to insignificance. The crusading spirit, it is true, had been thoroughly discredited by the wicked Fourth Crusade, when the Franks and Venetians took Constantinople and destroyed the old bulwark of Europe against the Infidel. But in the crusade in which he himself lost his life the Emperor Barbarossa had completely broken the power of the Seljouk Turks in Asia-Minor, and tho Jerusalem had been lost it was about to be regained by that strange and brilliant man, the Emperor Frederick II, “the wonder of the world.” The Slavs of Russia were organized into a kind of loose confederacy, and were slowly extending themselves eastward, making settlements like Moscow in the midst of various Finnish peoples. Hungary and Poland were great warrior kingdoms, tho a couple of centuries were to pass be-fore Poland would come to her full power. The Caliphs still ruled at Bagdad. In India Mohammedan warred with Rajput; and the Chinese Empire was probably superior in civilization and in military strength to any nation of Europe.

Into this world burst the Mongol. All his early years Genghis Khan spent in obtaining first the control of his own tribe, and then in estab-lishing the absolute supremacy of this tribe over all its neighbors. In the first decade of the thirteenth century this work was accomplished. His supremacy over the wild mounted herdsmen was absolute and unques-tioned. Every formidable competitor, every man who would not bow with unquestioning obedience to his will, had been ruthlessly slam, and he had developed a number of able men who were willing to be his de-voted slaves, and to carry out his every command with unhesitating obe-dience and dreadful prowess. Out of the Mongol horse-bowmen and horse-swordsmen he speedily made the most formidable troops then in existence. East, west and south he sent his armies, and under him and his immediate successors the area of conquest widened by leaps and bounds; while two generations went by before any troops were found in Asia or Europe who on any stricken field could hold their own with the terrible Mongol horsemen, and their subject-allies and remote kinsmen, the Turko-Tartars who served with and under them. Few conquests have ever been so hideous and on the whole so noxious to mankind. The Mongols were savages as cruel as they were brave and hardy. There were Nesor of any other nation; this was after the Hungarians had been con-quered.

The scourge of the Mongol conquests was terrible beyond belief, so that even where a land was flooded but for a moment, the memory long remained. It is not long since in certain churches in Eastern Europe the litany still contained the prayer, “From the fury of the Mongols, good Lord deliver us.” The Mongol armies developed a certain ant-like or bee-like power of joint action which enabled them to win without much regard to the personality of the leader; a French writer has well contrasted the great “anonymous victories” of the Mongols with the purely personal triumphs of that grim Turkish conqueror whom we know best as Timour the Tartar, or Tamerlane. The civil administration the Mon-gols established in a conquered country was borrowed from China, and where they settled as conquerors the conduct of the Chinese bureaucracy maddened the subject peoples almost as much as the wild and law-less brutality of the Mongol soldiers themselves. Gradually their empire, after splitting up, past away and left little direct influence in any country; but it was at the time so prodigious a phenomenon, fraught with such vast and dire possibilities, that a full knowledge of the history of the Mongol people is imperatively necessary to all who would understand the development of Asia and of Eastern Europe. No other writer of English was so well fitted to tell this history as Jeremiah Curtin.

Theodore Roosevelt.

Sagamore Hill, September 1, 1907.

THE MONGOLS A HISTORY

CHAPTER I

CLASSIFICATION, MYTH AND REALITY

FROM an obscure and uncertain beginning the word Mongol has gone on increasing in significance and spreading geographically during more than ten centuries until it has filled the whole earth with its presence. From the time when men used it at first until our day this word has been known in three senses especially. In the first sense it refers to some small groups of hunters and herdsmen living north of the great Gobi desert; in the second it denotes certain peoples in Asia and Eastern Europe; in the third and most recent, a worldwide extension has been given it. In this third and the broad sense the word Mongol has been made to in-clude in one category all yellow skinned nations, or peoples, including those too with a reddish-brown, or dark tinge in the yellow, having also straight hair, always black, and dark eyes of various degrees of intensity. In this sense the word Mongol co-ordinates vast numbers of people, im-mense groups of men who are like one another in some traits, and widely dissimilar in others. It embraces the Chinese, the Coreans, the Japanese, the Manchus, the original Mongols with their near relatives the Tartar, or Turkish tribes which hold Central Asia, or most of it. Moving westward from China this term covers the Tibetans and with them all the non-Aryan nations and tribes until we reach India and Persia.

In India, whose most striking history in modern ages is Mongol, nearly all populations save Aryans and Semites are classified with Mon-gols. In Persia where the dynasty is Mongol that race is preponderant in places and important throughout the whole kingdom, though in a minority. In Asia Minor the Mongol is master, for the Turk is still sovereign, and will be till a great rearrangement is effected.

Five groups of Mongols have made themselves famous in Europe: the Huns with their mighty chief Attila, the Bulgars, the Magyars, the Turks or Osmanli, and the Mongol invaders of Russia. All these five will have their due places later on in this history.

In Africa there have been and are still Mongol people. The Mamelukes and their forces at Cairo were in their time remarkable, and Turkish dominion exists till the present, at least theoretically, in Egypt, and west of it.

Not restricted to the Eastern hemisphere the word Mongol is still further used to include aboriginal man in America.

Thus this great aggregation of people is found in each part of both hemispheres, and we cannot consider the Mongols historically in a wide sense unless we consider all mankind.

In the first, that is the original and narrowest sense of the word it applies to those Mongols alone who during twelve centuries or longer have inhabited the country just south of Lake Baikal, and north of the great Gobi desert. It is from these Mongols proper that the name has at last been extended to the whole yellow race in both hemispheres.

The word Mongol began, it is said, with the Chinese, but this is not certain. It is certain, however, that the Chinese made it known to the great world outside, and thus opened the way to that immense applica-tion now given it. The Tang dynasty lasted from 618 to 907 and left its own history. In that history the term Mongol appears as Mong-ku, and in the annals of the Kitan dynasty which followed the Tang Mong-ku-li is the form which is given us. The Kitans were succeeded by the Golden Khans, or Kin Emperors, and in the annals of their line the Mong-ku are mentioned very often.

The Mongols began their career somewhat south of Lake Baikal when six rivers rise in a very remarkable mountain land. The Onon, the Ingoda and the Kerulon are the main western sources of that immense stream the Amoor, which enters the Sea of Okhotsk and thus finds the Pacific. The second three rivers: the Tula, Orhon, and Selinga flow into Lake Baikal, and thence, through the Lower Angara and Yenissei, are merged in Arctic waters directly in front of Nova Zembla.

These two water systems begin in the Kentei Khan mountains which have as their chief elevation Mount Burhan. The six rivers while flowing toward the Amoor and Lake Baikal water the whole stretch of country where the Mongols began their activity as known to us. There they moved about with their large and small cattle, fought, robbed, and hunted, ate and drank and slew one another during ages without reckon-ing. In that region of forest and grassland, of mountains and valleys, of great and small rivers the air is wholesome though piercingly cold during winter, and exceedingly hot in the summer months. There was subsistence enough for a primitive life in that country, but men had to fight for it savagely. Flocks and herds when grown numerous need immense spaces to feed in, and those spaces of land caused unending struggle and bloodshed. The flocks and herds were also objects of struggle, not flocks and herds only, but women. The desirable woman was snatched away, kidnapped; the good herd of cattle was stolen, and afterward fought for; the grass covered mountain or valley, or the forest with grass or good branches, or shrubbery for browsing was seized and then kept by the men who were able to hold it.

This stealing of cattle, this grabbing of pasture and forest, this fighting, this killing, this capture of women continued for ages with no apparent results except those which were personal, local, and transient till Temudjin the great Mongol appeared in that harsh mountain country. This man summed up in himself, and intensified to the utmost the ideas, strength, temper and spirit of his race as presented in action and life up to his day. He placed the Mongols on the stage of the world with a skill and a power that were simply colossal and all-conquering. The results which he won were immediate and terrifying. No man born of woman has had thus far in history a success so peculiar, so thorough and perfect, so completely acknowledged by mankind as the success won by Temudjin. There is in his career an unconquerable sequence, a finish, a oneness of character that sets it apart among all the careers of those mighty ones in history who worked for this life and no other, and strove for no object save that which is tangible, material and present; success of such kind and success so enormous that a common intelligence might yearn for it, but have no more chance of winning than of reaching the stars, or of seeing the sun during night hours.

The career of this Mongol is unique in the world, unapproachable, since its object was unmixed and immediate and his success in attaining it was so great that it seems, we might say, superhuman.

The account which is given us of Temudjin’s origin is a myth tale, excepting a few generations directly preceding him. Genealogy in the form of a myth tale is no exception in the case of any people, — no wonder. It is the rule and inevitable, the one method used by each primi-tive folk to explain its own origin. All early men in their own accounts are descended from gods who are either divine mythic animals, or ele-ments, or forces, or phenomena which become later on the progenitors of nations, or their totems.

The first mythic parents or founders of Temudjin’s family were a blue wolf and a sjrav doe. These two swam across a lake, reached the river Onon near its sources and settled down permanently at the foot of Mount Burhan, where a son called Batachi was born to them. Ninth in descent from Batachi were Duva Sohor, and Doben. The former had only one eye which was fixed in the middle of his forehead, but with that eye he saw beyond three mountain ranges. Once these two brothers climbed up Mount Burhan, and were gazing at the world from the top of it when Duva Sohor beheld many people moving down the Tungeli. "There is the wife for my brother, unless she is married,” thought Duva. “Go and see her,” said he then to Doben. Doben went to the new peo-ple straightway and learned that the woman was single and that her name was Alan Goa. The moving people were dependents of one Hori-lartai.

In time before that Bargudai, who owned Bargudjm on Lake Baikal, had a daughter whom lie gave to Horilartai of Horntumadun. From this marriage came Alan Goa, born at Alih Usun. They had left their old place since the hunting of ermine and squirrels had been stopped there. Horilartai removed to Mount Burhan, where game was abundant. He joined Shinehi Boyan, the master of Mount Burhan, and began the clan Horilar. Thus Dobeo found Alan Goa, who bore him two sons, Bu-gundai and Bailgun Etai.

Duva the one-eyed had four sons. The two brothers and their six sons lived in one company till Duva’s death; after that Duva’s four sons deserted their uncle, and founded the clan known as Dorbian.

One day while Doben was hunting he found in the forest a man roasting venison and straightway asked meat of him. The man kept one flank and the lungs, and gave the remainder to Doben who tied what he got to his saddle, and started off homeward. He met on the road a poor man and a small boy. “Who art thou?” inquired Doben. “I am of the Malish Boyandai,” said the poor man, “I am in need, give me venison, I pray thee, I will give thee my son in return for it.” Doben gave the man a deer leg, took the boy home, and made him his attendant.

Some years passed, the boy grew, and Doben died. The boy, now a man, served the widow. While a widow Alan Goa bore three sons; the eldest was Buga Hatagi, the second Tusalchi, the third Boduanchar. The two sons born of Doben said once to each other: “Our mother has no husband, no brother of our father has ever been in this yurta, still she has three sons. There is only one man in the house, he has lived with us always; is he not their father?”

Alan Goa learned that the two elder brothers were curious concerning the other three, so one day she called in her five sons and seating them together gave each one an arrow and told him to break it. Each broke his arrow. She then bound five arrows firmly together and commanded to break them — not one of the brothers could break the five arrows when tied in a bundle.

“Ye are in doubt,” said she then to her eldest and second son, “as to who is the father of my third, fourth and fifth sons. Ye wonder, and with reason, for ye know not that a golden hued man makes his way to this yurta. He enters through the door by which light comes, he enters in through the smoke hole like sunshine. The brightness which comes from him fills me when I look at him. Going off on the rays of the sun or the moon he runs like a swift yellow dog till he vanishes. Cease talking idly. Your three youngest brothers are children of Heaven, and no one may liken them to common men. When they are khans ye will know this.”

Alan Goa instructed her sons then, and said to them: "Ye all are my children, ye are all sons of mine. If ye stand apart like those five broken arrows it will be very easy to break you, but if ye keep one mind and one spirit no man on earth will be able to injure you, ye will be like those five arrows in the bundle.”

Alan Goa died soon after this talk with her children. Four of the brothers took what belonged to all five of them, counting the youngest a weakling and simple they gave him no property whatever. He, seeing that they would not treat him with justice, said in his own mind: “I will go from this place, I will leave them.” Then mounting a sorry roan horse with galled back and mangy tail he left his four brothers and rode away up the Onon to live at some new spot in freedom. When he reached Baljunala he built a small yurta, or hut at the place which seemed best to him and lived in it. One day he saw a falcon swoop down on a woodcock and seize it there near his yurta; he plucked hairs from the mangy tail of his horse, made a snare, caught the falcon, and trained it. When the wolves drove wild beasts toward the yurta in hunt-ing he killed them with arrows, or took for himself and the falcon what the wolves left uneaten. Thus he lived the first winter. When spring came the falcon caught ducks and geese in great numbers.

Beyond the ridge of Mount Duilyan, which was there near his yurta, flowed the Tungeli, and at the river lived a new people. Boduanchar, who went to hunt daily with his falcon, discovered this people and drank in their yurtas, mare’s milk which they gave him. They knew not whence he had come, and he asked not who they were, though they met every day with good feeling.

At last Boduanchar's eldest brother, Hatagi, set out to find him if possible and reached the Tungeli, where he saw the new people with whom Boduanchar was in friendship.

“Have ye seen a young man with a mangy tailed horse?” asked he. “On the horse’s back are white spots which are marks of old gall sores.” "We have seen the young man with that horse — he has also a falcon. He comes here each day to drink mare’s milk, but we know not the place of his yurta. Whenever wind blows from the northwest it drives hither as many duck and goose feathers as there are flakes in a snowstorm. He must live with his falcon northwest of us. But wait here a while and thou wilt see him.” Soon they saw the young man coming. Boduanchar became reconciled and went home with Hatagi.

“A man is complete who has a head on his body,” said Boduanchar to himself. And aloud he said as they traveled, “A coat is complete when a collar is sewed to it.” The brother said nothing on hearing these words for the first time; Boduanchar repeated the saying. “What dost thou mean?” asked Hatagi. “Those men on the river,” said Boduanchar, “have no head in their company; great and small are all one to them. We might take their ulus_1_very easily.” "Well,” replied Hatagi, “when we reach home we will talk of this; if we agree we will take the place.”

The five brothers talked over the plan and were willing. Boduanchar led them back to the village. The first person seized by him was a woman. “Of what stock art thou?” asked Boduanchar. “I am of the Charchiuts,” answered the woman. The five brothers led all the people to their own place; after that they had cattle; they had also attendants to wait on them, when eating. Boduanchar took his first captive as wife and she bore him a son from whom the Balm clan was descended. Boduan-char took another wife and by her begat Habichi, who in time had a son Mainyan Todan who took as wife Monalun, from whom seven sons were born to him; the eldest of these was Katchi Kyuluk, and the youngest, Nachin.

Monalun loved command; she was harsh in her household and se-vere to all people. With her Mainyan Todan gained great wealth of all kinds, and lived at Nush Argi. Though there was no forest land near his yurta he had so many cattle when the herds were driven home, that not five ells of ground within eyesight could be found with no beast on it.

Mainyan Todan departed from life while his seventh son was an in-fant. At this time the Jelairs, that is, some descendants of Doben and Alan Goa, who had settled on the Kerulon near the Golden Khan’s border, warred with his people very often. On a time the Golden Khan sent his forces against them; the Jelairs thinking the river impassable sneered at the enemy, and taking their caps off fell to mocking and shouting: "Would ye not like to come over and take all our horses and families?” Roused by this ridicule and banter the enemy made rafts under cover, and crossed the Kerulon quickly. They rushed forward and defeated the Jelairs. They slew all whom they met or could find, not sparing even children. Most of the Jelairs were slam, except some who had camped in a place where the enemy did not reach them. These survivors found refuge at Monalun’s settlement, where they fell to digging roots for sub-sistence, and spoiled a large space used in training young horses.

The widow was enraged at this trespass. She was riding in a cart when she saw it. Rushing in with attendants she trampled down some of the people, and dispersed them. Soon after this those same Jelairs stole from the sons of the widow a large herd of horses. When they heard of this robbery those sons hurried off to recover the animals. In their great haste they forgot to take armor. Monalun sent their wives on in carts with the armor, and she herself followed. Her sons were lying dead when their wives brought the armor. The Jelairs then slew the women, and when she came up they killed Monalun also.

The descendants of Katchi Kyuluk were all dead now except the youngest son, who was living apart from the others at Bargudjm on the eastern shore of Lake Baikal, and Kaidu his eldest son’s only offspring, a small boy who was saved by his nurse, who hid with the child under fire-wood.

When news came to Nachin that his family had been slaughtered he hurried on to Nush Argi and found there some wretched old women with the little boy Kaidu, and the nurse who had saved him. Nachin was anxious to examine the Jelair country, recover some part of his brothers’ lost property, and take a stern vengeance on the Jelairs, but he had no horse to ride on this journey. Just then a sorrel stallion from the herd that had been stolen by the Jelairs wandered back to Nush Argi. Nachin took this beast and set out alone to reconnoitre. The first men to meet him were two hunters on horseback, a son and his father, who were rid-ing apart from each other. Each had a hawk on his wrist, and Nachin saw that both birds had belonged to his brothers.

“Hast thou seen a brown stallion, with mares, going eastward?” asked he of the younger man. “I have not,” said the stranger, “but hast thou seen ducks or geese on thy journey?” “I have seen many,” replied Nachin; “come, I will show them to thee.” The man followed Nachin, who at his own time well selected turned on this Jelair and killed him. He fettered the horse, tied the hawk to the saddle, turned and rode toward the second man; upon reaching him he asked if he had seen a brown stallion, and mares going eastward. “No,” said the man, “but hast thou seen my son who is hawking here near us?” “I have seen him,” said Nachin. “He is bleeding from the nose and that delays him.” Nachin then killed the second man and rode along farther, taking with him the hawks and the horses. He came at last to a valley where many horses were grazing; some boys were herding the beasts, and throwing stones for amusement. Nachin from a high place examined the country and since there was no one in sight he went into the valley, killed the boys and urged on the herd to Nush Argi, leading the two hunters’ horses and bringing the hawks with him. Nachin then took his nephew, and the old women with the nurse, and drove all the horses to Bargudjin. There he lived for some years, and reared and trained his young nephew, who when old enough was made chief over two groups of Mongols; later on other groups were connected with these two. The Jelairs were crushed and enslaved by Kaidu and Nachin, who returned at the right time to Nush Argi. In that chief place of his family he acquired many cattle, and laid the foundation of Mongol dominion.

Nachin, as Mongol story depicts him, is one of the few men in his-tory who were not self-seeking. He saved the small remnant of his family which escaped from the Jelairs, and was for some time the real guardian of the Mongols. He saved the boy Kaidu, and, seeking no power for himself, turned every effort to strengthening his nephew.

From that nephew, Kaidu, are descended the greatest historical men of his people, men without whom the name Mongol might not have risen from obscurity to be known and renowned as it now is.

Nachin had two sons, Urudai and Manhudai, from whom are de-scended the Units and Manhuts, two tribes which under Kuildar and Churchadai saved the fortune of Temudjin in his most desperate battle at Kalanchin.

Kaidu had three sons; the eldest was Boshin Kordokshin, the second Charaha Lingu, the third Chao Jinortaidji. Kaidu’s eldest son had one son named Tumbmai, and died soon after the birth of that single descendant. Kaidu’s second son had a son named Sengun Bilghe, who had a son Ambagai, and from this strong son, Ambagai, were descended the Taidjuts.

Kaidu’s second son took his eldest brother’s widow, and from her had a son, Baisutai, from whom came the Baisuts. Kaidu’s third son had six sons, who were the founders of six clans among Mongols. Tumbmai, son of Boshin, Kaidu’s eldest son, had two sons, Kabul and Sinsaichilai. Kabul had seven sons; the second of these, Bartan, had four sons; the third of these four sons was Yessugai.

Kabul was made khan, and though he had seven sons he did not wish to give rule to any one of them. So he gave it to Sengun Bilghe, the father of Ambagai. Kabul the Khan, son of Tumbmai, was renouned for great courage. His fame reached the Emperor of China, who had such regard for this chief that he sent envoys inviting him to the court as an evidence of friendship, and with the concealed hope of making a treaty through which the Mongols might act with North China. Kabul made the journey. The Emperor received him with honor, and entertained him with the best food and drink in the country. But, since the Chinese were given to deceit very greatly, as Kabul thought, and attacked each opponent from an ambush, he feared wiles and most of all poison; hence he avoided food and drink and withdrew from a feast under pretexts, but returned later on when relieved of suspicion, and fell to eating and drinking with very great relish. The Chinese were astounded at sight of his thirst and his hunger. “High Heaven must have made him to rule,” exclaimed they, “else how could he drink and eat so enormously, and still have an appetite and be sober.” But after a time he seemed tipsy, clapped his hands, reeled toward the Emperor, seized his beard and stroked his ear, to the horror of ministers, who cried out at once, and were ready to rush at the Mongol.

The Khan turned then to the Emperor and smiled very coolly. “If the Golden Khan holds me guilty,” said he, “let him know that the will of my hand is to blame, not my own will. My hand has done that which displeases my own will and I condemn my hand’s action.”

The Emperor was calm and deliberate; at that time he wished above all things to wheedle his visitor, so he reasoned in his mind as follows: “If I punish this man his adherents, who are many, may rise and begin a long war with me.” Hence he kept down his anger, and commanded to bring from his treasure house silken robes, embroidered in gold, of right size for the Mongol. A crown and a gold girdle were brought with them. He put these on Kabul, and showing marks of high honor dismissed him with friendship when the time came for parting.

When Kabul had set out for home the ministers insisted that it would not be possible to leave the man’s conduct unnoticed. Roused at last by these speeches the Emperor sent off an envoy requesting Kabul to return to him. Kabul replied harshly, and kept on his journey. The Emperor was enraged now in earnest and sent men a second time not to request but to summon, and with them a good force of warriors to bring in the Mongol by violence if need be. Kabul had gone far on his journey, and, since the Golden Khan’s messengers took a new road by mere haz-ard, they missed him. They went all the way to his yurta, and as he had not yet returned his wives said on hearing the message: “He will follow the Golden Khan’s wishes.” The messengers turned from the yurta and after a while met Kabul hastening homeward; they seized him and led him off quickly for delivery to their master. On the journey they halted at the house of a Saljut, who was friendly to the captive.

“These men are taking thee to death O Kabul,” said the Saljut, “I must save thee. I have a horse which outstrips every wind, and is swifter than lightning. If thou sit on this beast thou canst save thyself — thou wilt escape at the first chance.” Kabul mounted that horse, but his foot was made fast to the chief envoy’s stirrup. In the night he unbound it, however, and shot away in the darkness. They pursued and hunted him with all speed, but only at Kabul’s own yurta were they able to come up with him. There he received them with all hospitality, and gave his ene-mies a splendid new tent which belonged to a wife whom he had just taken; he gave also the best entertainment. Soon after, he summoned his servants (his sons were not with him). “These people,” said he, “wish to take me to the Golden Khan to be killed by him with terrible torture. Ye must save me.”

The servants fell unawares on the Golden Khan’s messengers, and killed every man of them. Kabul was saved that time, but soon after he fell ill and died — very likely of poison — thus leaving the world to his seven sons, who were very ambitious. These sons were so great through their valor and courage that no combination of enemies could meet them successfully. They were all of one mother, Kulku Goa, a Kunkurat woman, whose younger brother, Sam Tegin, was the cause of involving the family in a terrible blood feud.

Sam Tegin fell ill and they called in a shaman of the Taidjuts to cure him. He died notwithstanding the art of this shaman, who was slam either on his way home or soon after, by the relatives of the dead man. This caused a great battle between the Taidjuts and Sain Tegin’s adher-ents and relatives, joined now by Kabul’s sons, who favored the cause of their uncle. In this battle Kaidan met a Taidjut in single encounter, split open his saddle, swept him down from his horse, and wounded him dreadfully. The Taidjut, who recovered only after a twelve month of suffering, began a new struggle as soon as strength came to him. Kaidan brought horse and rider to the earth, each wounded grievously; though ten mounted men rushed at the victor, he so used spear and sword on them that he came out in triumph. Thus began the great blood feud which later on Temudjin used with such deadly effect on the Taidjuts and Tartars.

Between Lake Buyur and Lake Kulon is a river, on this river a large group of Tartar tribes lived at that period. Ambagai, son of Sengun, went to find a new wife at Lake Buyur but was seized by some Tartars and sent to the Kin Emperor, who took his life very cruelly. Before his captors had set out with Ambagai he sent home this message: “Tell Ku-tula, fourth son of my cousin Kabul, who has seven sons, and Kaidan, one of my ten sons, that I, who ruled men, am a prisoner and must die in great suffering. And remember these words of mine, all of you: Though ye were to wear every nail from the fingers of each hand, and lose the ten fingers on both hands, ye must avenge me.”

The Golden Khan in return for offenses committed against him by Ambagai’s relatives, had him nailed to a wooden ass, flayed alive, and then chopped into small pieces slowly, beginning with his fingers and toes, till his whole body was finished.

Okin Barka, Kabul’s eldest son and a brother of Kutula, had been captured by the Tartars, sent to the Golden Khan, and put to death in the same way as Ambagai. This was done because Kabul had killed the Golden Khan’s messengers.

Before Ambagai was tortured he sent Bulgadji, his slave, to the Golden Khan with this warning: “It is shameful to kill me. I was seized most perfidiously, I am here without reason. If thou kill me all chiefs among Mongols will rise and avenge the injustice.” The Golden Khan paid no heed to the message, but after the hideous execution he sent Bulgadji on courier horses to Mongolia with the command to tell all there that Ambagai had been nailed to the wooden ass, his skin stripped from him while living, and his body then chopped into pieces bit by bit. On the way Bulgadji passed through the land of the Durbans, who would not give horses, and no matter what he said they took no note of him. When his horses were so weary that they could go no farther he left them, went home on foot and told all to Kaidan, whose son, Tuda, told the whole tale to Katula and Yessugai, his nephew. Kaidan, Tuda and Yessugai held a council immediately and resolved with many Mon-gols to avenge Okin Barka and Ambagai. Kutula was chosen khan then to lead the expedition. They held a great feast when the election was over, and all became grandly excited. They danced round a wide-spreading tree with great energy, and stamped out a ditch of such depth that they were hidden to their knees in it.

Kutula assembled all warriors who were willing to go, and marched against China. The Golden Khan’s forces were defeated, and routed with terrible slaughter. The Mongols took booty of unspeakable value, took all that men could bear with them, or that horses could carry. They came home filled with delight, bringing woven stuffs of all species, every kind of rich furniture, weapons and implements, and driving before them immense herds of horses, and large and small cattle.

While on the way home Kutula when passing through the land of the Durbans went to hunt with a small force of followers. On seeing these people the Durbans assembled a numerous party and attacked them; they killed some, and scattered the others. Kutula left alone saved himself by fleeing, and drove his swift horse through a swamp to the op-posite edge of the soft place. The beast stopped and stuck fast there; Kutula stood on the saddle and sprang to firm ground from it. The Durbans seeing him on foot, were well satisfied. “Oh let him go,” said they, “of what use is a man when his horse is gone.” Then, while they stood looking, he pulled his horse out of the quagmire, mounted and rode away in their presence. The swamp extended so far on either hand that they cared not to follow.

Kutula’s surviving attendants returned to the army, spread news of his death, and declared that the Durbans had killed him. His warriors reached home somewhat earlier than the Khan and since he had not ap-peared on the road and his attendants said that he had been killed by the Durbans Yessugai made a funeral feast for their leader and went to Ku-tula’s wife to announce her husband’s death and with her drink the cup to his memory. On appearing before her he began to lament, and weep bitterly. “Why hast thou come?” asked she, “and why art thou weeping?” He told the cause of his grief and his coming. “I believe not a word of all thou hast told me,” said the woman. “Would Kutula let Durbans kill him, Kutula whose voice is like thunder in the mountains, a voice which reaches high heaven, would Kutula let common men kill him? He would not, his delay has another cause. He is living. He has stopped for some work of importance, he will come later on.”

But the warriors and Kutula’s attendants felt sure that the Khan had been murdered.

When Kutula had pulled his horse out of the quagmire, and ridden away safely, he was savagely angry. “How have those vile, wretched Dur-bans brought me to such trouble,” raged he, “and driven off all my servants? Must I go home empty-handed? No, I will not leave these places unplundered.” Then he rode till he found a brown stallion, also a great herd of mares and their colts with them. He mounted the stallion, let out his own horse which ran forward, then drove the mares which followed the saddle beast. Riding farther in the steppes he found nests of wild geese; dismounting he took off his boots, filled the great legs of them with goose eggs, remounted and rode away home on the stallion, holding the boots and driving the mares and their colts to his yurta.

A vast crowd of people had assembled to lament and show honor to the memory of Kutula, and now, astonished at his sudden arrival, they rejoiced beyond measure, and turned all their sorrow and wailing into a feast of triumph and gladness. “Ha!” said the wife then to Yessugai, “did I not tell thee that no Durbans, or other men could bring down Ku-tula?”

After his great success against China, Kutula moved on the Tartars and punished them unsparingly for sending Okin Barka, his brother, to the Golden Khan for destruction.

But now broke out afresh the great hatred of the ten sons of Amba-gai for Kutula and his brothers. Those ten Taidjut brothers fell on the six surviving sons of Kabul and killed five of them, killed all except Bar-tan, who burst his way out of the murderous encounter with three seri-ous wounds in his body, and fled with four attendants. His son Yessugai, who had been hurled to the earth from his saddle, sprang up quickly and, though only thirteen years of age, sent his spear through the body of a Taidjut who was mounted, brought him down dying, sprang to the empty saddle, rushed away and caught up with his father. Through this wonderful promptness and skill he was able to save himself.

Bartan’s wife, Maral Kayak, fled on foot from her yurta with three other sons, Mangutu, Naigun and Daritai, and reached her wounded husband.

The Taidjut triumph was perfect for a season. Bartan’s power had departed, he died soon and gave place to his son, a young hero. This son was Yessugai, the name means number nine, his full name was Yessugai Bahadur, the ninth hero. He was ninth too in descent from that youngest son of Alan Goa, Boduanchar, who rode off alone from injustice.

At this time the tendency had increased very greatly among chiefs of Mongol clans to make other chiefs subordinates, or assistants. This was true specially of men descended from Kabul and from Ambagai. If rival or smaller chiefs would not accept the position a conflict resulted, at-tacks were made by small parties or larger ones, or through war or poi-son; the weaker men when ambitious were swept from existence. The continual interference of China by intrigue or by arms, or by bribery through titles or presents, through rewards to individuals, or dire ghastly punishments where punishment seemed more effective, did something also to strengthen and consolidate the loosely coherent society of the Mongols, and thus helped unwittingly the work of strong men seeking power north of China.

Yessugai, through activity and keenness succeeded in winning co-operation sufficient to undo the great Taidjut triumph. Kabul’s sons again got the primacy.

CHAPTER II

TEMUDJIN BEGINS HIS MIGHTY CAREER

THIS intense rivalry between the descendants of Kabul and Ambagai was the great ruling fact among Mongols at this epoch. Kabul and Am-bagai were second cousins, both being third in descent from Kaidu, that little boy saved by his nurse from the Jelairs; the Kaidu whose descendants were the great ruling Mongols of history. Kabul and Ambagai are remarkable themselves, and are notable also as fathers of men who sought power by all means which they could imagine and bring into practice.

Yessugai with his brothers was now triumphant and prosperous. He was terribly hostile to the Buyur Lake Tartars; he was ever watching the Taidjut opposition, which though resting at times never slumbered. Once in the days of his power Yessugai while hawking along the Onon saw a Merkit named Yeke Chilaidu taking home with him a wife from the Olkonots. Seeing that the woman was a beauty Yessugai hurried back to his yurta and returned with his eldest and youngest brothers to help him. When Yeke saw the three brothers coming he grew fright-ened, struck his horse and rushed away to find some good hiding place, but found none and rode back to the cart where his wife was. “Those men are very hostile,” said the woman. “Hurry off, or they will kill thee. If thou survive find a wife such as I am, if thou remember me call her by my name.” Then she drew off her shift and gave it to Yeke. He took it, mounted quickly and, seeing Yessugai approaching with his brothers, galloped up the river.

The three men rushed after Yeke, but did not overtake him, so they rode back to the woman, whose name was Hoelun. She was weeping. Her screams when they seized her “raised waves on the river, and shook trees in the valley.”

“The husband has crossed many bridges already, and many waters,” said Daritai, Yessugai’s youngest brother, “no matter how thou scream he will not come to thee, if thou look for his trail thou wilt not find it. Stop screaming!” Thus they took Hoelun, and she became a wife then to Yessugai.

Some months after the capture of Hoelun, Yessugai made attacks on the Tartars, and among other captives took Temudjin Uge, a chieftain. Hoelun gave birth to a son at that period_2_near the hill Dailiun Baldak. The boy was born grasping a lump of dark blood in his fist very firmly, and since he was born when Temudjin Uge was taken they called the child Temudjin. After that Hoelun had three other sons: Kassar, Hochiun and Taimuge, and one daughter, Taimulun.

When this first son had passed his thirteenth year Yessugai set out with the lad on a visit to Hoelun’s brothers to find among them a wife for him. When between the two mountains Cihurga and Cheksar he met one Desaichan, a man of the Ungirs. “Whither art thou going O Yessugai?” asked Desaichan. “I am going with my son to his uncles to look out a bride for him among them.” “Thy son has a clear face and bright eyes,” said Desaichan. “Last night I dreamed that a white falcon holding the sun and the moon in its talons flew down to my wrist, and perched on it. ‘We only know the sun and the moon through our eye-sight,’ said I to some friends of mine, 'but now a white falcon has brought them both down to me in his talons, this must be an omen of greatness.’ At the right time hast thou come hither Yessugai with thy son and shown what my dream means. It presages high fortune undoubtedly. I have a daughter at home, she is small yet but come and look at her.”

Then he conducted the father and son to his yurta. Yessugai rejoiced in his heart very greatly at sight of the girl, who in truth was a beauty. She was ten years of age, and named Bortai. Next day Yessugai asked Bortai of Desaichan as a bride for young Temudjin. "Will it show more importance if I give her only after much begging,” asked the father, “or will it show slight esteem if I give her in answer to few words? We know that a girl is not born to remain in the household forever. I yield her to marry thy son, and do thou leave him here for a time with me.”

The agreement was finished and Yessugai went away without Temudjin. On the road home he stopped at Cheksar and met Tartars who arranged there a feast for him. Being hungry and thirsty from trav-eling he halted. His hosts, who knew well that he had captured and killed very many of their people, Temudjm Uge with others, had poison made ready, and gave it in drink to him. Yessugai rode away and reached home in three days, but fell ill on the journey, and his trouble increased as he traveled. “There is pain in my heart,” said he, “who is near me?” At that time Munlik, a son of Charaha, happened in at the yurta, and Yessugai called him. “My children are young,” said he, “I went to find a bride for my son Temudjin, and have found her. On the way home I was poisoned by enemies. My heart is very sore in me, so go thou to my brothers and see them, see their wives also. I give thee this as a duty; tell them all that has happened. But first bring me Temudjin very quickly.”

Yessugai died_3_shortly after without seeing Temudjin.

Munlik went with all haste to Desaichan. “Yessugai,” said he, “wants to see Temudjin, he has sent me to bring the boy.” “If Yessugai is grieving let Temudjin go, and return to me afterward.” Munlik took Temudjin home as instructed. In the spring following when Ambagai’s widows were preparing the offerings to ancestors before moving to the summer place they refused to share sacrificed meats with Hoelun, and thus shut her out from their ruling circle and relationship. “Better leave this woman here with her children, she must not go with us,” said the wid-ows. Targutai Kurultuk, who was then in authority, went from the winter place without turning to Hoelun, or speaking. He with Todoyan Jinsha his brother had enticed away Yessugai’s people. Munlik’s father, Charaha, an old man, strove to persuade Targutai and his brother to take Hoelun, but they would not listen to him or to any man. “The deep water is gone, the bright stone is broken,” said Todoyan, “we cannot restore them, we have nothing to do with that woman, and her children.” And when Targutai with his brother was starting, a warrior of his thrust a spear into Charaha’s back and the old man fell down mortally wounded.

Temudjin went to talk with Charaha and take advice from him. “Targutai and his brother,” said the old man, “have led away all the people assembled by thy father, and our relatives.” Temudjin wept then and turned to his mother for assistance. Hoelun resolved quickly, she mounted, and, directing her attendants to take lances, set out at the head of them. She overtook the deserting people and stopped one half of them, but even that half would not go back with her. So Targutai and Todoyan had defeated Hoelun with her children, and taken one half of Yessugai’s people; the second half joined other leaders. But Hoelun, a strong, resolute woman, protected her family and found means to support it. Her children lived in poor, harsh conditions, and grew up in the midst of hostility and hatred. To assist and give help to their mother they made hooks out of needles and fished in the river Onon which was close to their dwelling. Once Temudjin and Kassar went to fish with their half brothers, Baiktar and Belgutai, Yessugafs children by another wife. Temudjin caught a golden hued trout and his half brothers took it from him. He went then with Kassar to Hoelun. “We caught a golden hued fish,” said they, “but Baiktar and Belgutai took it.” “Why do ye quarrel?” asked the mother, “we have no friends at present; all have deserted us; nothing sticks to us now but our shadows. We have no power yet to punish the Taidjuts. Why do ye act like the sons of Alan Goa, and quarrel? Why not agree and gam strength against enemies?”

Temudjin was dissatisfied; he wished Hoelun to take his side and go against Baiktar. “The other day,” said he, “I shot a bird and Baiktar took this bird also. He and his brother today snatched my fish from me. If they act always in this way how can I live with them?” And he turned from his mother very quickly. Both brothers rushed out, slammed the door flap behind them and vanished.