his golden lute; upon which he ordered Boghordshi and Mukuli to kill
him. They seized him, gave him two skins full of strong drink, and
then went to the Khan, who had not yet risen. Boghordshi spake outside
the tent: "The light already shines in your _Ordu_. We await your
commands; that is, if your effulgent presence, having cheerfully
awoke, has risen from its couch! The daylight already shines.
Condescend to open the door to hear and to judge the repentant
culprit, and to exercise your favor and clemency." The Khan now arose
and permitted Arghassun to enter, but he did not speak to him.
Boghordshi and Mukuli gave him a signal with their lips. The culprit
then began: "While the seventy-tuned Tsaktsaghai unconcernedly sings
'tang, tang,' the hawk hovers over and pounces suddenly upon him and
strangles him before he can bring out his last note, 'jang.' So did my
lord's wrath fall on me and has unnerved me. For twenty years have I
been in your household, but have not yet been guilty of dishonest
trickery. It is true I love smoked drink, but dishonesty I have not in
my thought. For twenty years have I been in your household, but I have
not practised knavery. I love strong drink, but am no trickster." Upon
which Temudjin ejaculated, "My loquacious Arghassun, my chattering
_Churtchi!_" and pardoned him.
Temudjin now seems to have been master of the country generally known
as Eastern Dauria, watered by the Onon, the Ingoda, the Argun; and
also of the tribes of the Tungusic race that lived on the Nonni and
the Upper Amur. The various victims of his prowess began to gather
together for another effort. Among these were Tukta, the chief of the
Merkits, with the Naiman leader, Buyuruk Khan, the tribes Durban,
Katagun, Saldjut, and Uirat, the last of whom were clients of the
Naimans. Wang Khan was then in alliance with him. At the approach of
the enemy they retired into the mountains Caraun Chidun, in the
Khinggan chain, on the frontiers of China, where they were pursued.
The pursuers were terribly harassed by the ice and snow, which Mailla
said was produced by one of their own shamans, or necromancers, and
which proved more hurtful to them than to the Mongols. Many of them
perished, and when they issued from the defiles they were too weak to
attack the two allies. The latter spent the winter at Altchia Kungur.
Here their two families were united by mutual betrothals; as these,
however, broke down, ill-feeling was aroused between them, and Chamuka
had an opportunity of renewing his intrigues. He suggested that
Temudjin had secret communications with the Naimans, and was not long
in arousing the jealousy of Wang Khan and his son Sengun. They
attempted to assassinate him, but he was warned in time.
He now collected an army and marched against the Keraits. His army was
very inferior in numbers, but attacked the enemy with ardor. Wang
Khan's bravest tribe, the Jirkirs, turned their backs, while the
Tunegkaits were defeated, but numbers nevertheless prevailed, and
Temudjin was forced to fly. This battle, which is renowned in Mongol
history, was fought at a place called Kalanchin Alt. Raschid says this
place is near the country of the Niuchis, not far from the river
Olkui. Some of the Chinese authorities call it Khalagun ola and Hala
chon, and D'Ohsson surmises that it is that part of the Khinggan chain
from which flow the southern affluents of the Kalka, one of which is
called Halgon in D'Anville's map. Mailla, however, distinctly places
it between the Tula and the Onon, which is probably right. Abandoned
by most of his troops, he fled to the desert Baldjuna, where he was
reduced to great straits. Here are still found many grave mounds, and
the Buriats relate that this retired place, protected on the north by
woods and mountains, was formerly an asylum. A few firm friends
accompanied him. They were afterward known as Baldjunas, a name
compared by Von Hammer with that of Mohadshirs, borne by the
companions of Mahomet's early misfortunes. Two shepherds, named
Kishlik and Badai, who had informed him of Wang Khan's march, were
created Terkhans.
Having been a fugitive for some time, Temudjin at length moved to the
southeast, to the borders of Lake Kara, into which flows the river
Uldra; there he was joined by some Kunkurats, and he once more moved
on to the sacred Mongol lake, the Dalai Nur. Thence he indited the
following pathetic letter to Wang Khan:
"1. O Khan, my father, when your uncle, the Gur Khan, drove you for
having usurped the throne of Buyuruk, and for having killed your
brothers Tatimur Taidshi and Buka Timur, to take refuge at Keraun
Kiptchak, where you were beleaguered, did not my father come to your
rescue, drive out, and force the Gur Khan to take refuge in Ho Si (the
country west of the Hwang-ho), whence he returned not? Did you not
then become Anda (_i.e._, sworn friend) with my father, and was not
this the reason I styled _you_ 'father'?
"2. When you were driven away by the Naimans, and your brother, Ilkah
Sengun, had retired to the far east, did I not send for him back
again; and when he was attacked by the Merkits, did I not attack and
defeat them? Here is a second reason for your gratitude.
"3. When in your distress you came to me with your body peering
through your tatters, like the sun through the clouds, and worn out
with hunger, you moved languidly like an expiring flame, did I not
attack the tribes who molested you; present you with abundance of
sheep and horses? You came to me haggard. In a fortnight you were
stout and well-favored again. Here is a third service we have done
you.
"4. When you defeated the Merkits so severely at Buker Gehreh, you
gave me none of the booty; yet shortly after, when you were hard
pressed by the Naimans, I sent four of my best generals to your
assistance, who restored you the plunder that had been taken from you.
Here is the fourth good office.
"5. I pounced like a jerfalcon onto the mountain Jurkumen, and thence
over the lake Buyur, and I captured for you the cranes with blue claws
and gray plumage, that is to say, the Durbans and Taidshuts. Then I
passed the lake Keule. There I took the cranes with blue feet; that
is, the Katakins, Saldjuts, and Kunkurats. This is the fifth service I
have done you.
"6. Do you not remember, O Khan, my father, how on the river Kara,
near the mount Jurkan, we swore that if a snake glided between us, and
envenomed our words, we would not listen to it until we had received
some explanation? yet you suddenly left me without asking me to
explain.
"7. O Khan, my father, why suspect me of ambition? I have not said,
'My part is too small, I want a greater;' or 'It is a bad one, I want
a better.' When one wheel of a cart breaks, and the ox tries to drag
it, it only hurts its neck. If we then detach the ox, and leave the
vehicle, the thieves come and take the load. If we do not unyoke it,
the ox will die of hunger. Am I not one wheel of thy chariot?"
With this letter Temudjin sent a request that the black gelding of
Mukuli Bahadur, with its embroidered and plated saddle and bridle,
which had been lost on the day of their struggle, might be restored to
him; he also asked that messengers might be sent to treat for a peace
between them. Another letter was sent to his uncle Kudshir, and to his
cousin Altun.
This letter is interesting, because it perhaps preserves for us some
details of what took place at the accession of Genghis. It is well
known that the Mongol Khan affected a coy resistance when asked to
become chief. The letter runs thus: "You conspired to kill me, yet
from the beginning did I tell the sons of Bartam Bahadur (_i.e._, his
grandfather), as well as Satcha (his cousin), and Taidju (his uncle).
Why does our territory on the Onon remain without a master? I tried to
persuade you to rule over our tribes. You refused. I was troubled. I
said to you, 'Kudshir, son of Tekun Taishi, be our khan.' You did not
listen to me; and to you, Altun, I said, 'You are the son of Kutluk
Khan, who was our ruler. You be our khan.' You also refused, and when
you pressed it on me, saying, 'Be you our chief,' I submitted to your
request, and promised to preserve the heritage and customs of our
fathers. Did I intrigue for power? I was elected unanimously to
prevent the country, ruled over by our fathers near the three rivers,
passing to strangers. As chief of a numerous people, I thought it
proper to make presents to those attached to me. I captured many
herds, yurts, women, and children, which I gave you. I enclosed for
you the game of the steppe, and drove toward you the mountain game.
You now serve Wang Khan, but you ought to know that he is fickle. You
see how he has treated me. He will treat you even worse."
Wang Khan was disposed to treat, but his son Sengun said matters had
gone too far, and they must fight it out. We now find Wang Khan
quarrelling with several of his dependents, whom he accused of
conspiring against him. Temudjin's intrigues were probably at the
bottom of the matter. The result was that Dariti Utshegin, with a
tribe of Mongols, and the Sakiat tribe of the Keraits, went over to
Temudjin, while Altun and Kudshir, the latter's relations, who had
deserted him, took refuge with the Naimans.
Among the companions of his recent distress, a constant one was his
brother Juji Kassar, who had also suffered severely, and had had his
camp pillaged by the Keraits. Temudjin had recourse to a ruse. He sent
two servants who feigned to have come from Juji, and who offered his
submission on condition that his wife and children were returned to
him. Wang Khan readily assented, and to prove his sincerity sent back
to Juji Kassar some of his blood in a horn, which was to be mixed with
koumiss, and drunk when the oath of friendship was sworn. Wang Khan
was completely put off his guard, and Temudjin was thus able to
surprise him. His forces numbered about four thousand six hundred, and
he seems to have advanced along the banks of the Kerulon, toward the
heights of Jedshir, between the Tula and the Kerulon, and therefore
toward the modern Urga, where Wang Khan was posted. In the battle
which followed, and which was fought in the spring of 1203, the latter
was defeated; he fled to the Naimans, and was there murdered. Temudjin
was sincerely affected by the death of the old man.
The Naiman chief, Tayang, had his skull encased in silver and
bejewelled, and afterward used it as a ceremonial cup; a custom very
frequent in Mongolia. Such cups have been lately met with in Europe,
one of which was exhibited at the great exhibition of 1851, where it
was shown as the skull of Confucius. Another, or perhaps the same,
which was encased in marvellous jeweller's work, has been lately
destroyed; the gold having been barbarously melted by the Jews. By the
death of Wang Khan, Temudjin became the master of the Kerait nation,
and thus both branches of the Mongol race were united under one head.
He now held a _kuriltai_, where he was proclaimed khan. There is some
confusion about the period when he adopted the title of Genghis, but
the probability is that he did so three years later. The earlier date
(1203) is the one, however, from which his reign is often reckoned to
have commenced.
VENETIANS AND CRUSADERS TAKE CONSTANTINOPLE
PLUNDER OF THE SACRED RELICS
A.D. 1204
EDWIN PEARS
In the treaty arranged at the end of the Third Crusade
(1192) it was stipulated that all hostilities between the
Christians and the Moslems should cease. The Fourth Crusade
(1196-1197), which is sometimes considered merely as a
movement supplementary to the Third, forced renewed
hostilities, against the wishes of the Palestine Christians,
who preferred that the three-years' peace should continue.
The Fourth Crusade ended disastrously, those who remained
longest to prosecute it being finally cut to pieces at Jaffa
in 1197. The travellers returning to the West from Syria
besought immediate help for the Christian survivors there.
The Byzantine empire had fallen into decrepitude, and the
Latin kingdom of Jerusalem was reduced to a mere strip of
coast. Only by prompt action could it be hoped to save any
portion of it from complete wreck.
Innocent III, who became pope in 1198, well understood the
meaning of the Moslem triumphs. The four crusades had
already greatly extended the papal jurisdiction, and
Innocent himself was the moving spirit of the Fifth,
although an ignorant priest named Fulk also preached it with
a success almost equal to that of Peter the Hermit in the
first expedition. Vast numbers of warriors took the cross,
though no king and only a few minor princes joined them.
Most famous among the leaders were Boniface II, Marquis of
Montferrat, and Baldwin IV, Count of Flanders.
Venice joined the crusaders under the lead of her doge,
Henry Dandolo, then more than ninety years old. When
ambassador at the Byzantine court (1173) he was blinded by
order of the emperor Manuel I, and revenge was probably one
of the motives which took him again to the East. The
Venetians, being asked to transport the crusaders, demanded
an extortionate price; but as Venice was the only power
possessing the necessary ships, a contract was made with her
for the service in 1201. Immediately the Venetians, by a
secret treaty with Egypt, for the sake of commercial
privileges, betrayed the crusaders to the Moslems.
Embarkation from Venice in the summer of 1202 was made very
difficult, and many intending crusaders went home in
disgust. Still Venice insisted upon the full price; but
money to pay it was wanting; and in spite of the Pope and
many of the bitter spirits, a bargain was struck--the
crusaders agreed to help the Venetians in taking and
plundering Zara, a rival Christian city on the eastern coast
of the Adriatic. Zara was accordingly captured--ultimately
to be destroyed by the Venetians, who next drew some of the
crusaders into a plot to overthrow the Byzantine emperor
Alexius IV, and place his son on the throne. By this means
the Venetians thought to make good their promise to
frustrate the crusade, and at the same time to obtain great
commercial advantages at Constantinople. Thus was the
pilgrim host "changed from a crusading army into a
filibustering expedition."
Having wintered at Zara, the crusaders were landed, in June,
1203, under the walls of Constantinople. The Emperor was
deposed by his own people, and his son, Alexius V, crowned
during a revolution in the city, which followed an
unsuccessful attack by the crusaders in July. The second and
successful assault, in April, 1204, with its sequel of
pillage and debauchery, forms the subject of Pears'
brilliant narrative. The city, during these troubles,
suffered from two fires, of which the second, in July, 1203,
deserves to be reckoned among the great historic
conflagrations of the world.
The preparations which the leaders had been pushing on during several
weeks were completed in April, 1204, and that day was chosen for an
assault upon Constantinople. Instead of attacking simultaneously a
portion of the harbor walls and a portion of the landward walls,
Venetians and crusaders alike directed their efforts against the
defences on the side of the harbor. The horses were embarked once more
in the _huissiers_.[39] The line of battle was drawn up; the huissiers
and galleys in front, the transports a little behind and alternating
between the huissiers and the galleys. The whole length of the line of
battle was upward of half a league, and stretched from the Blachern to
beyond the Petrion.[40] The Emperor's vermilion tent had been pitched
on the hill just beyond the district of the Petrion, where he could
see the ships when they came immediately under the walls. Before him
was the district which had been devastated by the fire.
On the morning of the 9th the ships, drawn up in the order described,
passed over from the north to the south side of the harbor. The
crusaders landed in many places, and attacked from a narrow strip of
the land between the walls and the water. Then the assault began in
terrible earnest along the whole line. Amid the din of the imperial
trumpets and drums the attackers endeavored to undermine the walls,
while others kept up a continual rain of arrows, bolts, and stones.
The ships had been covered with blanks and skins so as to defend them
from the stones and from the famous Greek fire, and, thus protected,
pushed boldly up to the walls. The transports soon advanced to the
front, and were able to get so near the walls that the attacking
parties on the gangways or platforms, flung out once more from the
ships' tops, were able to cross lances with the defenders of the walls
and towers.
The attack took place at upward of a hundred points until noon, or,
according to Nicetas,[41] until evening. Both parties fought well. The
invaders were repulsed. Those who had landed were driven back, and
amid the shower of stones were unable to remain on shore. The invaders
lost more than the defenders. Before night a portion of the vessels
had retired out of range of the mangonels,[42] while another portion
remained at anchor and continued to keep up a continual fire against
those on the walls. The first day's attack had failed.
The leaders of both crusaders and Venetians withdrew their forces to
the Galata side. The assault had failed, and it became necessary at
once to determine upon their next step. The same evening a parliament
was hastily called together. Some advised that the next attack should
be made on the walls on the Marmora side, which were not so strong as
those facing the Golden Horn. The Venetians, however, immediately took
an exception, which everyone who knew Constantinople would at once
recognize as unanswerable. On that side the current is always much too
strong to allow vessels to be anchored with any amount of steadiness
or even safety. There were some present who would have been very well
content that the current or a wind--no matter what--should have
dispersed the vessels, provided that they themselves could have left
the country and have gone on their way.
It was at length decided that the two following days, the 10th and
11th, should be devoted to repairing their damages, and that a second
assault should be delivered on the 12th. The previous day was a
Sunday, and Boniface and Dandolo made use of it to appease the
discontent in the rank and file of the army. The bishops and abbots
were set to work to preach against the Greeks. They urged that the war
was just; that the Greeks had been disobedient to Rome, and had
perversely been guilty of schism in refusing to recognize the
supremacy of the Pope, and that Innocent himself desired the union of
the two churches. They saw in the defeat the vengeance of God on
account of the sins of the crusaders. The loose women were ordered out
of the camp, and, for better security, were shipped and sent far away.
Confession and communion were enjoined, and, in short, all that the
clergy could do was done to prove that the cause was just, to quiet
the discontented, and to occupy them until the attack next day.
The warriors had in the mean time been industriously repairing their
ships and their machines of war. A slight, but not unimportant, change
of tactics had been suggested by the assault on the 9th. Each
transport had been assigned to a separate tower. The number of men who
could fight from the gangways or platforms thrown out from the tops
had been found insufficient to hold their own against the defenders.
The modified plan was, therefore, to lash together, opposite each
tower to be attacked, two ships, containing gangways to be thrown out
from their tops, and thus concentrate a greater force against each
tower. Probably, also, the line of attack was considerably shorter
than at the first assault.
On Monday morning, the 12th, the assault was renewed. The tent of the
Emperor[43] had been pitched near the monastery of Pantepoptis,[44]
one of many which were in the district of the Petrion, extending along
the Golden Horn from the palace of Blachern, about one-fourth of its
length. From this position he could see all the movements of the
fleet. The walls were covered with men who were ready again to fight
under the eye of their Emperor. The assault commenced at dawn, and
continued with the utmost fierceness. Every available crusader and
Venetian took part in it. Each little group of ships had its own
special portion of the walls, with its towers, to attack. The
besiegers during the first portion of the day made little progress,
but a strong north wind sprang up, which enabled the vessels to get
nearer the land than they had previously been. Two of the transports,
the Pilgrim and the Parvis, lashed together, succeeded in throwing one
of their gangways across to a tower in the Petrion, and opposite the
position occupied by the Emperor.
A Venetian, and a French knight, André d'Urboise, immediately rushed
across and obtained a foothold. They were at once followed by others,
who fought so well that the defenders of the tower were either killed
or fled. The example gave new courage to the invaders. The knights who
were in the huissiers, as soon as they saw what had been done, leaped
on shore, placed their ladders against the wall, and shortly captured
four towers. Those on board the fleet concentrated their efforts on
the gates, broke in three of them, and entered the city, while others
landed their horses from the huissiers. As soon as a company of
knights was formed, they entered the city through one of these gates,
and charged for the Emperor's camp. Mourtzouphlos[45] had drawn up his
troops before his tents, but they were unused to contend with men in
heavy armor, and after a fairly obstinate resistance the imperial
troops fled. The Emperor, says Nicetas--who is certainly not inclined
to unduly praise the Emperor, who had deprived him of his post of
_grand logothete_--did his best to rally his troops, but all in vain,
and he had to retreat toward the palace of the Lion's Mouth. The
number of the wounded and dead was _sans fin et sans mesure_.
An indiscriminate slaughter commenced. The invaders spared neither age
nor sex. In order to render themselves safe they set fire to the city
lying to the east of them, and burned everything between the monastery
of Everyetis and the quarter known as Droungarios.[46] So extensive
was the fire, which burned all night and until the next evening, that,
according to the marshal, more houses were destroyed than there were
in the three largest cities in France. The tents of the Emperor and
the imperial palace of Blachern were pillaged, the conquerors making
their head-quarters on the same site at Pantepoptis. It was evening,
and already late, when the crusaders had entered the city, and it was
impossible for them to continue their work of destruction through the
night. They therefore encamped near the walls and towers which they
had captured. Baldwin of Flanders spent the night in the vermilion
tent of the Emperor, his brother Henry in front of the palace of
Blachern, Boniface, the Marquis of Montferrat, on the other side of
the imperial tents in the heart of the city.
The city was already taken. The inhabitants were at length awakened
out of the dream of security into which seventeen unsuccessful
attempts to capture the New Rome[47] had lulled them. Every charm,
pagan and Christian, had been without avail. The easy sloth into which
the possession of innumerable relics, and the consciousness of being
under the protection of an army of saints and martyrs, had plunged a
large part of the inhabitants, had been rudely dispelled. The Panhagia
of the Blachern, with its relic of the Virgin's robe, the host of
heads, arms, bodies, and vestments of saints and of portions of the
holy Cross, had been of no more use than the palladium which lay
buried then, as now, under the great column which Constantine had
built. The rough energy of the Westerns had disregarded the talismans
of the Greek Church as completely as those of paganism. In vain had
the believers in these charms destroyed during the siege the statues
which were believed to be of ill omen or unlucky. The invaders had a
superstition as deep as their own, but with the difference that they
could not believe that a people in schism could have the protection of
the hierarchy of heaven, or be regarded as the rightful possessors of
so many relics.