Over the whole of this vast region Jenghiz Khan set his second surviving son Oghotai or Ogdai as khakan, or chief khan, while to the family of his deceased eldest son Juchi he assigned the country from Kayalik and Kharezm to the borders of Bulgar and Saksin “where’er the hoofs of Mongol horses had tramped;” to Jagatai, his eldest surviving son, the territory from the borders of the Uigur country to Bokhara; while Tulé, the youngest, received charge of the home country of the Mongols, the care of the imperial encampment and family, and of the archives of the state. The appointment of Ogdai as his successor, being contrary to the usual Mongol custom of primogeniture, gave rise to some bitterness of feeling among the followers of Jagatai. But the commands of Jenghiz Khan subdued these murmurs, and Ogdai was finally led to the throne by his dispossessed brother amid the plaudits of the assembled Mongols. The ceremony was completed by Ogdai making three solemn genuflexions to the sun, and by the princes taking an oath by which they swore “that so long as there remained of his posterity a morsel of flesh which thrown upon the grass would prevent the cows from eating, or which put in the fat would prevent the dogs from taking it, they would not place on the throne a prince of any other branch.” In accordance with Mongol customs, Ogdai signalized his accession to the throne by distributing among his grandees presents from his father’s treasures, and to his father’s spirit he sacrificed forty maidens and numerous horses. Once fairly on the throne, he set himself vigorously to follow up the conquests won by his father. At the head of a large army he marched southwards into China to complete the ruin of the Kin dynasty, which had already been so rudely shaken, while at the same time Tulé advanced into the province of Honan from the side of Shense. Against this combined attack the Kin troops made a vigorous stand, but the skill and courage of the Mongols bore down every opposition, and over a hecatomb of slaughtered foes they captured Kai-fung Foo, the capital of their enemies. From Kai-fung Foo the emperor fled to Joo-ning Foo, whither the Mongols quickly followed. After sustaining a siege for some weeks, and enduring all the horrors of starvation, the garrison submitted to the Mongols, and at the same time the emperor committed suicide by hanging. Thus fell in 1234 the Kin or “Golden” dynasty, which had ruled over the northern portion of China for more than a century.

But though Ogdai’s first care was to extend his empire in the rich and fertile provinces of China, he was not forgetful of the obligation under which Jenghiz Khan’s conquests in western Asia had laid him to maintain his supremacy over the kingdom of Kharezm. This was the more incumbent on him since Jelâl al-din, who had been driven by Jenghiz into India, had returned, reinforced by the support of the sultan of Delhi, whose daughter he had married, and, having reconquered his hereditary domains, had advanced westward as far as Tiflis and Khelat. Once more to dispossess the young sultan, Ogdai sent a force of 300,000 men into Kharezm. With such amazing rapidity did this army march in pursuit of its foe that the advanced Mongol guards reached Amid (Diarbekr), whither Jelâl al-din had retreated, before that unfortunate sovereign had any idea of their approach. Accompanied by a few followers, Jelâl al-din fled to the Kurdish mountains, where he was basely murdered by a peasant. The primary object of the Mongol invasion was thus accomplished; but, with the instinct of their race, they made this conquest but a stepping-stone to another, and without a moment’s delay pushed on still farther westward. Unchecked and almost unopposed, they overran the districts of Diarbekr, Mesopotamia, Erbil, and Khelat, and then advanced upon Azerbijan. So great was the terror with which these fierce warriors inspired the people of the provinces they attacked that single Mongols are said to have slain the inhabitants of entire villages without a hand having been raised against them. In the following year (1236) they invaded Georgia and Great Armenia, committing frightful atrocities, sparing neither man nor woman, young nor old, with the exception of those whom they saved to minister to their wants or passions. Tiflis was among the cities captured by assault, and Kars was surrendered at their approach in the vain hope that submission would gain clemency from the victors. Meanwhile, in 1235, Ogdai, whose troops were as numerous as their thirst for conquest was devouring, despatched three armies in as many directions. One was directed against Corea, one against the Sung dynasty, which ruled over the provinces of China south of the Ÿang-tsze Keang, and the third was sent westward into eastern Europe. This last force was commanded by Batu, the son of Juchi, Ogdai’s deceased eldest brother, who took with him the celebrated Sabutai Bahâdur as his chief adviser. Bulgar, the capital city of the Bulgars, fell before the force under Sabutai, while Batu pushed on over the Volga. With irresistible vigour and astonishing speed the Mongols made their way through the forests of Penza and Tamboff, and appeared before the “beautiful city” of Riazan. For five days they discharged a ceaseless storm of shot from their balistas, and, having made a breach in the defences, carried the city by assault on the 21st of December 1237. “The prince, with his mother, wife, sons, the boyars, and the inhabitants, without regard to age or sex, were slaughtered with the savage cruelty of Mongol revenge; some were impaled, some shot at with arrows for sport, others were flayed or had nails or splinters of wood driven under their nails. Priests were roasted alive, and nuns and maidens ravished in the churches before their relatives. ‘No eye remained open to weep for the dead.’” Moscow, at this time a place of little importance, next fell into the hands of the invaders, who then advanced against Vladimir. After having held out for several days against the Mongol attacks, the city at length succumbed, and the horrors of Riazan were repeated. The imperial family, with a vast crowd of fugitives, sought shelter in the cathedral, only to perish by the swords of the conquerors or by the flames which reduced it to ashes. If possible, a more dire fate overtook the inhabitants of Kozelsk, near Kaluga, where, in revenge for a partial defeat inflicted on a Mongol force, the followers of Batu held so terrible a “carnival of death” that the city was renamed by its captors Mobalig, “the city of woe.” With the tide of victory thus strong in their favour the Mongols advanced against Kieff, “the mother of cities,” and carried it by assault. The inevitable massacre followed, and the city was razed to the ground. While the scene of bloodshed was at its height a catastrophe occurred which at any other time would have been considered of supreme horror. Under the weight of a vast crowd of fugitives the flat roof of the metropolitan church fell in, burying all, young-and old, in a vast hecatomb.

Victorious and always advancing, the Mongols, having desolated this portion of Russia, moved on in two divisions, one under Batu into Hungary, and the other under Baidar and Kaidu into Poland. Without a check, Batu marched to the neighbourhood of Pesth, where the whole force of the kingdom was arrayed to resist him. The Hungarian army was posted on the wide heath of Mohi, which is bounded by “the vine-clad hills of Tokay,” the mountains of Lomnitz, and the woods of Diosgyor. To an army thus hemmed in on all sides defeat meant ruin, and Batu instantly recognized the dangerous position in which his enemies had placed themselves. To add to his chances of success he determined to deliver his attack by night, and while the careless Hungarians were sleeping he launched his battalions into their midst. Panic-stricken and helpless, they fled in all directions, followed by their merciless foes. Two archbishops, three bishops, and many of the nobility were among the slain, and the roads for two days’ journey from the field of battle were strewn with corpses. The king, Béla IV., was saved by the fleetness of his horse, though closely pursued by a body of Mongols, who followed at his heels as far as the coast of the Adriatic, burning and destroying everything in their way. Meanwhile Batu captured Pesth, and on Christmas Day 1241, having crossed the Danube on the ice, took Gran by assault. While Batu had been thus triumphing, the force under Baidar and Kaidu had carried fire and sword into Poland. At their approach the inhabitants of Cracow deserted the city, after having given it over to the flames. Disappointed at the loss of their expected spoil, the Mongols advanced to Wahlstatt in the neighbourhood of Liegnitz, where the Polish army under Duke Henry II. of Silesia awaited their onslaught. With savage impetuosity, the troops of Baidar rushed to the attack, and completely defeated the Poles. As usual, no quarter was given. The massacre was frightful, and Duke Henry himself was amongst the slain. It was a Mongol habit to cut off an ear from each corpse of their slaughtered foes, and on this occasion it is said that they filled nine sacks with these ghastly trophies. Following the example of the inhabitants of Cracow, the people of Liegnitz left but the blackened walls of what had once been the town as a prey for the Mongols, who without delay pushed south-eastward into Moravia as far as the vicinity of Troppau. While laying waste the country in the neighbourhood of that town, they received the announcement of the death of Ogdai, and at the same time a summons for Batu to return eastwards into Mongolia.

While his lieutenants had been thus carrying his arms in all directions, Ogdai had been giving himself up to ignoble ease and licentiousness. Like many Mongols, he was much given to drink, and it was to a disease produced by this cause that he finally succumbed on the 11th of December 1241. He was succeeded by his son Kuyuk, who reigned only seven years. Little of his character is known, but it is noticeable that his two ministers to whom he left the entire conduct of affairs were Christians, as also were his doctors, and that a Christian chapel stood before his tent. This leaning towards Christianity, however, brought no peaceful tendencies with it. On the contrary, we hear of an advance against the sultan of Rιim (Asia Minor), and of an expedition into Syria, by which that country was made tributary to the Great Mongol empire, of a fresh campaign against Corea, and of another attack on the Sung dynasty of China. On the death of Kuyuk dissensions which had been for a long time smouldering between the houses of Ogdai and Jagatai broke out into open war, and after the short and disputed reigns of Kaidu and Chapai, grandsons of Ogdai, the lordship passed away from the house of Ogdai for ever.

On the 1st of July 1251 Mangu, the eldest son of Tulé, and nephew to Ogdai, was elected khakan. With perfect impartiality, Mangu allowed the light of his countenance to fall upon the Christians, Mohammedans, and Buddhists among his subjects, although Shamanism was recognized as the state religion. Two years after his accession his court was visited by Rubruquis and other Christian monks, who were hospitably received. The description given by Rubruquis of the khakan’s palace at Karakorum shows how wide was the interval which separated him from the nomad, tent-living life of his forefathers. It was “surrounded by brick walls. . . . Its southern side had three doors. Its central hall was like a church, and consisted of a nave and two aisles, separated by columns. Here the court sat on great occasions. In front of the throne was placed a silver tree, having at its base four lions, from whose mouths there spouted into four silver basins wine, kumiss, hydromel, and terasine. At the top of the tree a silver angel sounded a trumpet when the reservoirs that supplied the four fountains wanted replenishing.” On his accession complaints reached Mangu that dissensions had broken out in the province of Persia, and he therefore sent a force under the command of his brother Hulagu to punish the Ismailites or Assassins, who were held to be the cause of the disorder. Marching by Samarkand and Kesh, Hulagu crossed the Oxus and advanced by way of Balkh into the province of Kohistan. The terror of the Mongol name induced Rokn al-din, the chief of the Assassins, to deprecate the wrath of Hulagu by offers of submission, and he was so far successful that he was able to purchase a temporary immunity from massacre by dismantling fifty of the principal fortresses in Kohistan. But when once the country had thus been left at the mercy of the invaders, their belief in the old saying “Stone dead hath no fellow” sharpened their battle-axes, and, sparing neither man, woman, nor child, they exterminated the unhappy people. Hulagu then marched across the snowy mountains in the direction of Baghdad. On arriving before the town he demanded its surrender. This being refused, he laid siege to the walls in the usual destructive Mongol fashion, and at length, finding resistance hopeless, the caliph was induced to give himself up and to open the gates to his enemies. On the 15th of February 1263 the Mongols entered the walls, and, following their instincts, sacked the city. For seven days it was given up to pillage, fire, and the sword, and the number of killed was said to have reached the enormous sum of 800,000. For the moment the caliph’s life was spared, and he was allowed to carry away 100 wives out of 700 who lived in his harem, as being those upon whom “neither the sun nor moon had shone.” But his fate soon overtook him. Accounts differ as to the circumstances of his death, some saying that he was sewn up in a sack and trodden to death by horses, others that he was starved to death. To the Moslem world his loss was a religious catastrophe, as by it Islam lost its spiritual head. While at Baghdad Hulagu gave his astronomer, Nâsir al-din, permission to build an observatory. The town of Maragha was the site chosen, and, under the superintendence of Nâsir al-din and four western Asiatic astronomers who were associated with him, a handsome observatory was built, and furnished with “armillary spheres and astrolabes, and with a beautifully-executed terrestrial globe showing the five climates.” One terrible result of the Mongol invasion was a fearful famine, which desolated the provinces of Irak-Arabi, Mesopotamia, Syria, and Rùm. But, though the inhabitants starved, the Mongols had strength and energy left to continue their onward march into Syria. Aleppo was stormed and sacked, Damascus surrendered, and Hulagu was meditating the capture of Jerusalem with the object of restoring it to the Christians when he received the news of Mangu’s death, and, as in duty bound, at once set out on bis return to

Mongolia, leaving Kitubuka in command of the Mongol forces in Syria. As a reward for his services, Hulagu received the investiture of his conquests, and established there the empire of the Ilkhans.

While Hulagu was prosecuting these conquests in western Asia, Mangu and his next brother Kublai were pursuing a like course in southern China. Southward they even advanced into Tong-king, and westward they carried their arms over the frontier into Tibet. But in one respect there was a vast difference between the two campaigns. Under the wise command of Kublai all indiscriminate massacres were forbidden, and probably for the first time in Mongol history the inhabitants and garrisons of captured cities were treated with humanity. While carrying on the war in the province of Sze-ch’uen Mangu was seized with an attack of dysentery, which proved fatal after a few days’ illness. His body was carried into Mongolia on the backs of two asses, and, in pursuance of the custom of slaughtering every one encountered on the way, 20,000 persons were, according to Marco Polo, put to the sword.

At the Kuriltai, or assembly of notables, which was held at Shang-tu after the death of Mangu, his brother Kublai (see Kublai Khan) was elected khakan. For thirty-five years he sat on the Mongol throne, and at his death in 1294, in his seventy-ninth year, he was succeeded by his son Timur Khan, or, as he was otherwise called, Uldsheitu Khan. The reign of this sovereign was chiefly remarkable for the healing of the division which had for thirty years separated the families of Ogdai and Jagatai from that of the ruling khakan. Uldsheitu was succeeded by his nephew Khaissan. In accordance with the usual ceremony, on the election being announced four of the princes of the blood raised the new khakan aloft on a piece of white felt, two others supported him, while a seventh offered him the cup. “Meanwhile, while Shaman offered up prayers for his prosperity and saluted him by the title of Kuluk Khan, carts full of gold pieces and rich tissues were brought out and distributed. So many pearls were spread on the ground that it resembled the sky. The feast lasted a week, during each day of which 40 oxen and 4000 sheep were consumed. Libations of milk from 700 sacred cows and 7000 ewes were sprinkled on the ground.” With that tolerance which so markedly characterized the Mongols at this period, Kuluk worshipped indiscriminately at the temples of the Chinese Shang-te and before the Buddhist shrines, while at the same time he lent a favourable countenance to John of Montecorvino, who, during the whole of his reign, was archbishop of Peking. Unfortunately the archbishop was not so tolerant as the khakan, and carried on as fierce a dispute with the Nestorian Christians of his day as that which divided the Dominicans and Jesuits in China three centuries later. After a short reign, and at the early age of thirty-one, Kuluk was gathered to his fathers in February 1311. His nephew and successor, Buyantu, was a man of considerable culture, and substantially patronized Chinese literature. Among other benefits which he conferred on letters, he rescued the celebrated inscription-bearing “stone drums,” which are commonly said to be of the Chow period (b,c. 1122- 255), from the decay and ruin to which they were left by the last emperor of the Kin dynasty, and placed them in the gateway of the temple of Confucius at Peking, where they now stand. After a reign of nine years Buyantu was succeeded by his son Gegen, who perished in 1323 by the knife of an assassin,—the first occasion on which a reigning descendant of Jenghiz Khan thus met his fate. Yissun Timur, who was the next sovereign, devoted himself mainly to the administration of his empire. He divided China, which until that time had been apportioned into twelve provinces, into eighteen provinces, and rearranged the system of state granaries, which had fallen into disorder. His court was visited by Friar Odoric, who gives a minute description of the palace and...