KUBLAI AND THE MONGOL DYNASTY
While Bayan was winning victories for his master and driving the Chinese
armies from the field, Kublai was engaged at Pekin in the difficult and
necessary task of consolidating his authority. In 1271 he gave his dynasty
the name of Yuen or Original, and he took for himself the Chinese title of
Chitsou, although it will never supersede his Mongol name of Kublai.
Summoning to his court the most experienced Chinese ministers, and aided
by many foreigners, he succeeded in founding a government which was
imposing by reason of its many-sidedness as well as its inherent strength.
It satisfied the Chinese and it was gratifying to the Mongols, because
they formed the buttress of one of the most imposing administrations in
the world. All this was the distinct work of Kublai, who had enjoyed the
special favor of Genghis, who had predicted of him that "one day he will
sit in my seat and bring you good fortune such as you have had in my
time." He resolved to make his court the most splendid in the world. His
capital Cambaluc or Khanbalig--"the city of the Khan"--stood on or near
the present site of Pekin, and was made for the first time capital of
China by the Mongols. There were, according to Marco Polo, twelve gates,
at each of which was stationed a guard of 1,000 men, and the streets were
so straight and wide that you could see from one end to the other, or from
gate to gate. The extent given of the walls varies: according to the
highest estimate they were twenty-seven miles round, according to the
lowest eighteen. The khan's palace at Chandu or Kaipingfoo, north of
Pekin, where he built a magnificent summer palace, kept his stud of
horses, and carried out his love of the chase in the immense park and
preserves attached, may be considered the Windsor of this Chinese monarch.
The position of Pekin had, and still has, much to recommend it as the site
of a capital. The Mings, after proclaiming Nankin the capital, made
scarcely less use of it, and Chuntche, the first of the Manchus, adopted
it as his. It has since remained the sole metropolis of the empire.
When Kublai permanently established himself at Pekin he drew up consistent
lines of policy on all the great questions with which it was likely he
would have to deal, and he always endeavored to act upon these set
principles. In framing this system of government he was greatly assisted
by his old friend and tutor Yaochu, as well as by other Chinese ministers.
He was thus able to deal wisely and also vigorously with a society with
which he was only imperfectly acquainted; and the impartiality and insight
into human character, which were his main characteristics, greatly
simplified the difficult task before him. His impartiality was shown most
clearly in his attitude on the question of religion; but it partook very
largely of a hard materialism which concealed itself under a nominal
indifference. At first he treated with equal consideration Buddhism,
Mohammedanism, Christianity, and even Judaism, and he said that he treated
them all with equal consideration because he hoped that the greatest among
them would help him in heaven. If some doubt may be felt as to the
sincerity of this statement, there can be none as to Kublai's effort to
turn all religions to a political use, and to make them serve his turn.
Some persons have thought he showed a predilection for Christianity, but
his measures in support of Buddhism, and of his friend the Pakba Lama, are
a truer indication of his feelings. But none were admitted into his
private confidence, and his acts evinced a politic tolerance toward all
creeds. But his religious tolerance or indifference did not extend to
personal matters. He insisted on the proper prayers being offered to
himself and the extreme reverence of the kow-tow. Priests were appointed
and specially enjoined to offer up prayers on his behalf before the
people, who were required to attend these services and to join in the
responses. Images of himself were also sent to all the provincial towns
for reverence to be offered. He also followed the Chinese custom of
erecting a temple to his ancestors, and the coins that passed current bore
his effigy. Thus did Kublai more and more identify himself with his
Chinese subjects, and as he found his measures crowned with success he
became himself more wedded to Chinese views, less tolerant of adverse
opinions, and more disposed to assert his sovereign majesty.
Having embellished his capital, it is not surprising to find that he drew
up a strict court ceremonial, and that he proscribed gorgeous dresses for
those who were to be allowed to approach him. His banquets were of the
most sumptuous description. Strangers from foreign states were admitted to
the presence, and dined at a table set apart for travelers, while the
great king himself feasted in the full gaze of his people. His courtiers,
guard, and ministers attended by a host of servitors, and protected from
enemies by 20,000 guards, the flower of the Mongol army; the countless
wealth seized in the capitals of numerous kingdoms; the brilliance of
intellect among his chief adherents and supporters; the martial character
of the race that lent itself almost as well to the pageantry of a court as
to the stern reality of battle; and finally the majesty of the great king
himself--all combined to make Kublai's court and capital the most
splendid, at that time, in the world. Although Kublai's instincts were
martial, he gave up all idea of accompanying his armies in the field after
his war with Arikbuka. As he was only forty-four when he formed this
decision, it must be assumed that he came to it mainly because he had so
many other matters to attend to, and also, no doubt, because he felt that
he possessed in Bayan a worthy substitute.
The most fortunate and successful monarch rarely escapes without some
misfortune, and Kublai was not destined to be an exception to the rule.
The successes of the Mongol navy undoubtedly led Kublai to believe that
his arms might be carried beyond the sea, and he formed the definite plan
of subjecting Japan to his power. The ruling family in that kingdom was of
Chinese descent, tracing back its origin to Taipe, a fugitive Chinese
prince of the twelfth century before our era. The Chinese in their usual
way had asserted the superior position of a Suzerain, and the Japanese had
as consistently refused to recognize the claim, and had maintained their
independence. As a rule the Japanese abstained from all interference in
the affairs of the continent, and the only occasion on which they departed
from this rule was when they aided Corea against China. In 1266 Kublai
sent two embassadors by way of Corea to Japan with a letter from himself
complaining that the Japanese court had taken no notice of his accession
to power, and treated him with indifference. The mission never had a
chance of success, for the Coreans succeeded in frightening the Mongol
envoys with the terrors of the sea, and by withholding their assistance
prevented them reaching their destination. The envoys returned without
having been able to deliver their letter. Kublai decided that the Japanese
were hostile to him, and he resolved to humble them. He called upon the
King of Corea to raise an auxiliary force, and that prince promised to
supply 1,000 ships and 10,000 men. In 1274 he sent a small force of 300
ships and 15,000 men to begin operations in the direction of Japan; but
the Japanese navy came out to meet it, and attacking it off the island of
Tsiusima, inflicted a crushing defeat. As this expedition was largely
composed of the Corean contingent Kublai easily persuaded himself that
this defeat did not indicate what would happen when he employed his own
Mongol troops. He also succeeded in sending several envoys to Japan after
his first abortive attempt, and they brought back consistent reports as to
the hostility and defiance of the Japanese, who at last, to leave no
further doubt on the subject, executed his envoy in 1280. For this outrage
the haughty monarch swore he would exact a terrible revenge, and in
1280-81, when the last of his campaigns with the Sungs had been brought
to a triumphant conclusion, he collected all his forces in the eastern
part of the kingdom, and prepared to attack Japan with all his power.
For the purposes of this war he raised an army of over 100,000 men, of
whom about one-third were Mongols; and a fleet large enough to carry this
host and its supplies was gathered together with great difficulty in the
harbors of Chekiang and Fuhkien. It would have been wiser if the
expedition had started from Corea, as the sea voyage would have been
greatly reduced; but the difficulty of getting his army to that country,
and the greater difficulty of feeding it when it got there, induced him to
make his own maritime possessions the base of his operations. From the
beginning misfortunes fell thick upon it, and the Japanese, not less than
the English when assailed by the Spanish armada and Boulogne invasions,
owed much to the alliance of the sea. Kublai had felt bound to appoint a
Chinese generalissimo as well as a Mongol to this host, but it did not
work well. One general fell ill and was superseded, another was lost in a
storm, and there was a general want of harmony in the Mongol camp and
fleet. Still the fleet set sail, but the elements declared themselves
against Kublai. His shattered fleet was compelled to take refuge off the
islets to the north of Japan, where it attempted to refit, but the
Japanese granted no respite, and assailed them both by land and sea. After
protracted but unequal fighting the Mongol commander had no choice left
but to surrender. The conquerors spared the Chinese and Coreans among
their prisoners, but they put every Mongol to the sword. Only a stray junk
or two escaped to tell Kublai the tale of the greatest defeat the Mongols
had ever experienced. Thirty thousand of their best troops were
slaughtered, and their newly-created fleet, on which they were founding
such great expectations, was annihilated, while 70,000 Chinese and Coreans
remained as prisoners in the hands of the victor. Kublai executed two of
his generals who escaped, but it is clear no one was to blame. The Mongols
were vanquished because they undertook a task beyond their power, and one
with which their military experience did not fit them to cope. The most
formidable portion of their army was cavalry, and they had no knowledge of
the sea. Nor could their Chinese auxiliaries supply this deficiency; for,
strange as it may appear, the Chinese, although many of them are good
fishermen and sailors, have never been a powerful nation at sea. On the
other hand, the Japanese have always been a bold and capable race of
mariners. They have frequently proved that the sea is their natural
element, and all the power and resources of Kublai availed not against the
skill and courage of these hardy islanders. Kublai was reluctant to
acquiesce in his defeat, and he endeavored to form another expedition, but
the Chinese sailors mutinied and refused to embark. They were supported by
all the Chinese ministers at Pekin, and Kublai felt himself compelled to
yield and abandon all designs of conquest beyond the sea.
The old success of the Mongols did not desert them on land, and Kublai
received some consolation for his rude repulse by the Japanese in the
triumph of his arms in Burmah. The momentary submission of the King of
Burmah, or Mien, as it was, and is still, called by the Chinese, had been
followed by a fit of truculence and open hostility. This monarch had
crossed over into Indian territory, and had assumed the title of King of
Bengala in addition to his own. Emboldened by his success, he did not
conceal his hostility to the Mongols, sent a defiant reply to all their
representations, and even assumed the offensive with his frontier
garrisons. He then declared open war. The Mongol general, Nasiuddin,
collected all the forces he could, and when the Burmese ruler crossed the
frontier at the head of an immense host of horse, foot, and elephants, he
found the Mongol army drawn up on the plain of Yungchang. The Mongols
numbered only 12,000 select troops, whereas the Burmese exceeded 80,000
men with a corps of elephants, estimated between 800 and 2,000, and an
artillery force of sixteen guns. Notwithstanding this numerical
disadvantage the Mongols were in no way dismayed by their opponents'
manifest superiority; but seldom has the struggle between disciplined and
brute force proved closer or more keenly contested. At first the charge of
the Burmese cavalry, aided by the elephants and artillery, carried all
before it. But Nasiuddin had provided for this contingency. He had
dismounted all his cavalry, and had ordered them to fire their arrows
exclusively against the elephant corps; and as the Mongols were then not
only the best archers in the world, but used the strongest bows, the
destruction they wrought was considerable, and soon threw the elephants
into hopeless confusion. The crowd of elephants turned tail before this
discharge of arrows, as did the elephants of Pyrrhus, and threw the whole
Burmese army into confusion. The Mongols then mounting their horses,
charged and completed the discomfiture of the Burmese, who were driven
from the field with heavy loss and tarnished reputation. On this occasion
the Mongols did not pursue the Burmese very far, and the King of Burmah
lost little or no part of his dominions, but Nasiuddin reported to Pekin
that it would be an easy matter to add the kingdom of Mien to the Mongol
empire. Kublai did not act on this advice until six years later, when he
sent his kinsman Singtur with a large force to subdue Burmah. The king
took shelter in Pegu, leaving his capital Amien at the mercy of the
conqueror. The Mongol conquests were thus brought down to the very border
of Assam. In Tonquin and Annam the arms of Kublai were not so successful.
Kublai's son Togan made an abortive campaign in these regions. Whenever an
open force had to be overcome, the Mongol army was successful, but when
the Mongols encountered the difficulties of a damp and inclement climate,
of the absence of roads, and other disadvantages, they were disheartened,
and suffered heavily in men and morale. With the loss of his two generals,
and the main portion of his army, Togan was lucky in himself escaping to
China. Kublai wished to make another effort to subdue these inhospitable
regions and their savage inhabitants, but Chinese public opinion proved
too strong, and he had to yield to the representations of his ministers.
Kublai was the more compelled to sacrifice his feelings on this point,
because there were not wanting indications that if he did not do so he
would find a Chinese rebellion on his hands. Notwithstanding his many
successes, and his evident desire to stand well with his Chinese subjects,
it was already clear that they bore their new leader little love. Several
of the principal provinces were in a state of veiled rebellion, showing
that the first opportunity would be taken to shake off the Mongol yoke,
and that Kublai's authority really rested on a quicksand. The predictions
of a fanatic were sufficient to shake the emperor on his throne, and such
was Kublai's apprehension that he banished all the remaining Sung
prisoners to Mongolia, and executed their last faithful minister, who went
to the scaffold with a smile on his face, exclaiming, "I am content; my
wishes are about to be realized." It must not be supposed from this that
Kublai's authority had vanished or become effete. It was absolutely
supreme over all declared enemies, but below the surface was seething an
amount of popular hostility and discontent ominous to the longevity of the
Mongol dynasty. The restless ambition of Kublai would not be satisfied
with anything short of recognition, in some form or other, of his power by
his neighbors, and he consequently sent envoys to ail the kingdoms of
Southern Asia to obtain, by lavish presents or persuasive language, that
recognition of his authority on which he had set his heart. In most cases
he was gratified, for there was not a power in Eastern Asia to compare
with that of the Mongol prince seated on the Dragon Throne of China, and
all were flattered to be brought into connection with it on any terms.
These successful and gratifying embassies had only one untoward result:
they induced Kublai to revert to his idea of repairing the overthrow of
his son Togan in Annam, and of finally subjugating that troublesome
country. The intention was not wise, and it was rendered more imprudent by
its execution being intrusted to Togan again. Another commander might have
fared better, but great as was his initial success, he could not hope to
permanently succeed. Togan began as he formerly commenced by carrying all
before him. He won seventeen separate engagements, but the further he
advanced into the country the more evident did it appear that he only
controlled the ground on which he stood. The King of Annam was a fugitive;
his capital was in the hands of the Mongols, and apparently nothing more
remained to be done. Apachi, the most experienced of the Mongol
commanders, then counseled a prompt retreat. Unfortunately the Mongol
prince Togan would not take his advice, and the Annamites, gathering fresh
forces on all sides, attacked the exhausted Mongols, and compelled them to
beat a precipitate retreat from their country. All the fruits of early
victory were lost, and Togan's disgrace was a poor consolation for the
culminating discomfiture of Kublai's reign. The people of Annam then made
good their independence, and they still enjoy it, so far as China is
concerned; though Annam is now a dependency of the French republic.
We cannot doubt that the failure of the emperor's endeavor to popularize
his rule was as largely due to the tyrannical acts and oppressive measures
of some of his principal ministers as to unpopular and unsuccessful
expeditions. Notwithstanding the popular dislike of the system, and
Kublai's efforts to put it down, the Mongols resorted to the old plan of
farming the revenue, and the extortion of those who purchased the right
drove the Chinese to the verge of rebellion, and made the whole Mongol
regime hateful. Several tax farmers were removed from their posts, and
punished with death, but their successors carried on the same system. The
declining years of Kublai's reign were therefore marred by the growing
discontent of his Chinese subjects, and by his inability or unwillingness
to put down official extortion and mismanagement. But he had to cope with
a still greater danger in the hostility of some members of his own family.
The rivalry between himself and his brother Arikbuka formed one incident
of his earlier career, the hostility of his cousin Kaidu proved a more
serious peril when Kublai was stricken in years, and approaching the end
of his long reign.
Kaidu was one of the sons of Ogotai, and consequently first cousin to
Kublai. He held some high post in Mongolia, and he represented a
reactionary party among the Mongols, who wished the administration to be
less Chinese, and who, perhaps, sighed for more worlds to conquer. But he
hated Kublai, and was jealous of his pre-eminence, which was, perhaps, the
only cause of his revolt. The hostility of Kaidu might have remained a
personal grievance if he had not obtained the alliance of Nayan, a Mongol
general of experience and ability, who had long been jealous of the
superior reputation of Bayan. He was long engaged in raising an army, with
which he might hope to make a bid for empire, but at last his preparations
reached the ear of Kublai, who determined to crush him before his power
had grown too great. Kublai marched against him at the head of 100,000
men, and all the troops Nayan could bring into the field were 40,000,
while Kaidu, although hastily gathering his forces, was too far off to
render any timely aid. Kublai commanded in person, and arranged his order
of battle from a tower supported on the backs of four elephants chained
together. Both armies showed great heroism and ferocity, but numbers
carried the day, and Nayan's army was almost destroyed, while he himself
fell into the hands of the victor. It was contrary to the practice of the
Mongols to shed the blood of their own princes, so Kublai ordered Nayan to
be sewn up in a sack, and then beaten to death. The war with Kaidu dragged
on for many years, and there is no doubt that Kublai did not desire to
push matters to an extremity with his cousin. Having restored the fortunes
of the war by assuming the command in person, Kublai returned in a short
time to Pekin, leaving his opponent, as he hoped, the proverbial golden
bridge by which to retreat. But his lieutenant, Bayan, to whom he
intrusted the conduct of the campaign, favored more vigorous action, and
was anxious to bring the struggle to a speedy and decisive termination. He
had gained one remarkable victory under considerable disadvantage, when
Kublai, either listening to his detractors or desirous of restraining his
activity, dismissed him from his military posts and, summoning him to
Pekin, gave him the uncongenial office of a minister of State. This
happened in 1293, and in the following year Kublai, who was nearly eighty,
and who had occupied the throne of China for thirty-five years, sickened
and died, leaving behind him a great reputation which has survived the
criticism of six centuries in both Europe and China.
Kublai's long reign marked the climax of the Mongol triumph which he had
all the personal satisfaction of extending to China. Where Genghis failed,
or attained only partial success, he succeeded to the fullest extent, thus
verifying the prophecy of his grandfather. But although he conquered their
country, he never vanquished the prejudices of the Chinese, and the
Mongols, unlike the Manchus, failed completely to propitiate the good will
of the historiographers of the Hanlin. Of Kublai they take some
recognition, as an enlightened and well-meaning prince, but for all the
other emperors of the Yuen line they have nothing good to say. Even Kublai
himself could not assure the stability of his throne, and when he died it
was at once clear that the Mongols could not long retain the supreme
position in China.
But Kublai's authority was sufficiently established for it to be
transmitted, without popular disturbance or any insurrection on the part
of the Chinese, to his legal heir, who was his grandson. Such risk as
presented itself to the succession arose from the dissensions among the
Mongol princes themselves, but the prompt measures of Bayan arrested any
trouble, and Prince Timour was proclaimed emperor under the Chinese style
of Chingtsong. A few months after this signal service to the ruling
family, Bayan died, leaving behind him the reputation of being one of the
most capable of all the Mongol commanders. Whether because he could find
no general worthy to fill Bayan's place, or because his temperament was
naturally pacific, Timour carried on no military operations, and the
thirteen years of his reign were marked by almost unbroken peace. But
peace did not bring prosperity in its train, for a considerable part of
China suffered from the ravages of famine, and the cravings of hunger
drove many to become brigands. Timour's anxiety to alleviate the public
suffering gained him some small measure of popularity, and he also
endeavored to limit the opportunities of the Mongol governors to be
tyrannical by taking away from them the power of life and death. Timour
was compelled by the sustained hostility of Kaidu to continue the struggle
with that prince, but he confined himself to the defensive, and the death
of Kaidu, in 1301, deprived the contest of its extreme bitterness although
it still continued.
Timour was, however, unfortunate in the one foreign enterprise which he
undertook. The ease with which Burmah had been vanquished and reduced to a
tributary state emboldened some of his officers on the southern frontier
to attempt the conquest of Papesifu--a state which may be identified with
the modern Laos. The enterprise, commenced in a thoughtless and light-
hearted manner, revealed unexpected peril and proved disastrous. A large
part of the Mongol army perished from the heat, and the survivors were
only rescued from their perilous position, surrounded by the numerous
enemies they had irritated, by a supreme effort on the part of Koko, the
viceroy of Yunnan, who was also Timour's uncle. The insurrectionary
movement was not confined to the outlying districts of Annam and Burmah,
but extended within the Chinese border, and several years elapsed before
tranquillity was restored to the frontier provinces.
Timour died in 1306 without leaving a direct legitimate heir, and his two
nephews Haichan and Aiyuli Palipata were held to possess an equal claim to
the throne. Haichan was absent in Mongolia when his uncle died, and a
faction put forward the pretensions of Honanta, prince of Gansi, who seems
to have been Timour's natural son, but Aiyuli Palipata, acting with great
energy, arrested the pretender and proclaimed Haichan as emperor. Haichan
reigned five years, during which the chief reputation he gained was as a
glutton. When he died, in 1311, his brother Palipata was proclaimed
emperor, although Haichan left two sons. Palipata's reign of nine years
was peaceful and uneventful, and his son Chutepala succeeded him.
Chutepala was a young and inexperienced prince who owed such authority as
he enjoyed to the courage of Baiju, a brave soldier, who was specially
distinguished as the lineal descendant of the great general, Muhula. The
plots and intrigues which compassed the ruin of the Yuen dynasty began
during this reign, and both Chutepala and Baiju were murdered by
conspirators. The next emperor, Yesun Timour, was fortunate in a peaceful
reign, but on his death, in 1328, the troubles of the dynasty accumulated,
and its end came clearly into view. In little more than a year, three
emperors were proclaimed and died. Tou Timour, one of the sons of Haichan,
who ruled before Palipata, was so far fortunate in reigning for a longer
period, but the most interesting episode in his barren reign was the visit
of the Grand Lama of Tibet to Pekin, where he was received with
exceptional honor; but when Tou Timour attempted to compel his courtiers
to pay the representative of Buddhism special obeisance he encountered the
opposition of both Chinese and Mongols.
After Tou Timour's death the imperial title passed to Tohan Timour, who is
best known by his Chinese title of Chunti. He found a champion in Bayan, a
descendant of the general of that name, who successfully defended the
palace against the attack of a band of conspirators. In 1337 the first
distinct rebellion on the part of the Chinese took place in the
neighborhood of Canton, and an order for the disarmament of the Chinese
population aggravated the situation because it could not be effectually
carried out. Bayan, after his defense of the palace, became the most
powerful personage in the state, and to his arrogance was largely due the
aggravation of the Mongol difficulties and the imbittering of Chinese
opinion. He murdered an empress, tyrannized over the Chinese, and outshone
the emperor in his apparel and equipages, as if he were a Wolsey or a
Buckingham. For the last offense Chunti could not forgive him, and Bayan
was deposed and disgraced. While these dissensions were in progress at
Pekin the Chinese were growing more daring and confident in their efforts
to liberate themselves from the foreign yoke. They had adopted red bonnets
as the mark of their patriotic league, and on the sea the piratical
confederacy of Fangkue Chin vanquished and destroyed such navy as the
Mongols ever possessed. But in open and regular fighting on land the
supremacy of the Mongols was still incontestable, and a minister, named
Toto, restored the sinking fortunes of Chunti until he fell the victim of
a court intrigue--being poisoned by a rival named Hamar. With Toto
disappeared the last possible champion of the Mongols, and the only thing
needed to insure their overthrow was the advent of a capable leader who
could give coherence to the national cause, and such a leader was not long
in making his appearance.
The deliverer of the Chinese from the Mongols was an individual named Choo
Yuen Chang, who, being left an orphan, entered a monastery as the easiest
way of gaining a livelihood. In the year 1345, when Chunti had been on the
throne twelve years, Choo quitted his retreat and joined one of the bands
of Chinese who had thrown off the authority of the Mongols. His physique
and fine presence soon gained for him a place of authority, and when the
chief of the band died he was chosen unanimously as his successor. He at
once showed himself superior to the other popular leaders by his humanity,
and by his wise efforts to convince the Chinese people that he had only
their interests at heart. Other Chinese so-called patriots thought mainly
of plunder, and they were not less terrible to peaceful citizens than the
most exacting Mongol commander or governor. But Choo strictly forbade
plundering, and any of his band caught robbing or ill-using the people met
with prompt and summary punishment. By this conduct he gained the
confidence of the Chinese, and his standard among all the national leaders
became the most popular and attracted the largest number of recruits. In
1356 he captured the city of Nankin, which thereupon became the base of
his operations, as it was subsequently the capital of his dynasty. He then
issued a proclamation declaring that his sole object was to expel the
foreigners and to restore the national form of government. In this
document he said, "It is the birthright of the Chinese to govern foreign
peoples and not of these latter to rule in China. It used to be said that
the Yuen or Mongols, who came from the regions of the north, conquered our
empire not so much by their courage and skill as by the aid of Heaven. And
now it is sufficiently plain that Heaven itself wishes to deprive them of
that empire, as some punishment for their crimes, and for not having acted
according to the teaching of their forefathers. The time has now come to
drive these foreigners out of China." While the Mongols were assailed in
every province of the empire by insurgents, Choo headed what was the only
organized movement for their expulsion, and his alliance with the pirate,
Fangkue Chin, added the command of the sea to the control he had himself
acquired over some of the wealthiest and most populous provinces of
Central China. The disunion among the Mongols contributed to their
overthrow as much as the valor of the Chinese. The Emperor Chunti had
quite given himself up to pleasure, and his debaucheries were the scandal
of the day. The two principal generals, Chahan Timour and Polo Timour,
hated each other, and refused to co-operate. Another general, Alouhiya,
raised the standard of revolt in Mongolia, and, while he declared that his
object was to regenerate his race, he, undoubtedly, aggravated the
embarrassment of Chunti.
In 1366, Choo, having carefully made all the necessary preparations for
war on a large scale, dispatched from Fankin two large armies to conquer
the provinces north of the Yangtsekiang, which were all that remained in
the possession of the Mongols. A third army was intrusted with the task of
subjecting the provinces dependent on Canton, and this task was
accomplished with rapidity and without a check. Such Mongol garrisons as
were stationed in this quarter were annihilated. The main Chinese army of
250,000 men was intrusted to the command of Suta, Choo's principal
lieutenant and best general, and advanced direct upon Pekin. In 1367 Suta
had overcome all resistance south of the Hoangho, which river he crossed
in the autumn of that year. The Mongols appeared demoralized, and
attempted little or no resistance. Chunti fled from Pekin to Mongolia,
where he died in 1370, and Suta carried the capital by storm from the
small Mongol garrison which remained to defend it. Choo hastened to Pekin
to receive the congratulations of his army, and to prove to the whole
Chinese nation that the Yuen dynasty had ceased to rule. The resistance
offered by the Mongols proved surprisingly slight, and, considering the
value of the prize for which they were fighting, quite unworthy of their
ancient renown. The real cause of their overthrow was that the Mongols
never succeeded in propitiating the good opinion and moral support of the
Chinese, who regarded them to the end as barbarians, and it must also be
admitted that the main force of the Mongols had drifted to Western Asia,
where the great Timour revived some of the traditions of Genghis. At the
end of his career that mighty conqueror prepared to invade China, but he
died shortly after he had begun a march that boded ill to the peace and
welfare of China. Thus, with the flight of Chunti, the Mongol or Yuen
dynasty came to an end, and the Mongols only reappear in Chinese history
as the humble allies of the Manchus, when they undertook the conquest of
China in the seventeenth century.