by Harold Lamb
This period of conquest, under Genghis Khan and Kublai Khan, was perhaps the most rapid and savage in the annals of history. It extended the Mongol Empire through Tibet, the territory of the Indus, the Kwaresmian Empire (Afghanistan, Persia, Turkey in Asia) up through the Caucasus to the Crimea, and Russia as far as Poland as it then was. Under Timur Khan (Timurlane) the empire embraced the Mogul lands in India.
Like the empire of Alexander, the Tatar conquest was purely military. It was rapidly broken up, the Mongol armies mingling with the conquered population. What became of Tatary proper? The man who tries to find out what happened to Tatary in the heart of Asia will discover that the book of history is closed, or nearly so. He will get a few glimpses of a stirring story. Decimated in numbers and continually torn by quarrels, the descendants of Genghis Khan defended their homelands against invasion. The Muscovites, or Russians, did not conquer the remaining khans. A Cossack adventurer paved the way for Russian rule.
We have all heard the expression “catching a Tatar.” It comes form the fact that Tatars were bad individuals to get hold of. Like the Spartans and the present Cossacks—who are allied to the Tatars in blood—they were born and bred to fighting. And for sheer courage it is hard to find their match.
The Tatar method of storming a town is a historical fact. A European traveler in China about 1620 said: “The Tatars do everything in taking a walled city in the opposite way from Europeans. Instead of using their cannon to make a breach in the walls, they attack the walls with horsemen at once, and do not cease their efforts until the city is taken. From the moment the assault is sounded they ply ladders, from the ground and their horses' backs, until they have a foothold on the walls. They are reckless of life, which they are more than ready to lose in battle, and each horseman bears himself with the skill and hardihood of a captain.”
Another characteristic of the Tatar army was the speed with which it moved. On a march every soldier had at least one extra horse; when food in the saddlebags was exhausted the Tatars drank blood from the horse's veins and mare's milk; they seldom stopped on a march to sleep, and were accustomed to push ahead as much as fifty miles a day or more even in extreme cold or in snow.
Their regard for the horse was so high that their boots were fashioned like horses' hoofs, and their hair like a mane hanging down over one shoulder.
An incident relates that a Tatar who was sent to pursue an enemy returned empty-handed to camp when he had killed the other's horse, saying “Of what use is a man without a horse?”
In “The White Khan” Khlit crosses the border of Tatary into China and encounters the power of the Dragon Emperor with interesting results.
The various personages are to be found in the rein of Wan Li. Li Jusong is taken from history, together with the Lilies of the Court, and the border warfare in which the declining power of the khans, torn by dissension, struggled with the rising sun of China.
February 3, 1919: “Changa Nor”
Prester John and Ghengis Khan—adventure, mystery. In this issue we—but read Mr. Lamb's story and see for yourself. Here is what he has to tell us about the legends and history back of his tale:
Judging by general experience it must be pretty hard to follow a will o' the wisp—whatever that may be. And it's just about as hard to get hold of the truth in the myth of Prester John.
On one hand we have stories of the European travelers who declared that a Christian monarch in Asia ruled a kingdom of fabulous wealth. That was around the tenth to the thirteenth century.
Then we have the travels of Jesuit and Nestorian monks, among them Fra Rubugin, who visited one or two Asian rulers who embraced Christianity. We know that before the time of Marco Polo there were Christian centers in “Tangut” and His'en fu. Also, it is curious to learn that Christian engravings were found on the stone ruins of Karakorum, the oldest city of Tatary. Abulghazi, the oriental historian, mentions a Christian monarch in Asia.
Next, history tells us that the daughter of a Wang-Khan was a Christian and married a khan whose father was “Great King John” in Chinese. Ghenghis Khan was surprised by the riches of the Gur-khan's “golden tents” and “golden dishes fit for an emperor.” Marco Polo says this man was the one reported in Europe to be Prester John.
The legend has curious details—a scepter of pure emerald, a treasure guarded by trained animals, a castle by a sea of sand, and a river of stones.
Lastly we learn that the descendants of the Gur-Khan were last seen at Kuku-Khotan some 300 miles northwest of Peking. This is in the north of the once-powerful Kerait or Krit Horde. And “Krit” is a Mongol name for “Christian.” But as Kuku-Khotan locates itself in the Kobi (Gobi) desert, it seemed better to move it to Changa Nor, the “lake of stones by the sea of sand.”
The legened of Prester John of Tatary is one of the hidden byways of history. But, like other by-paths, it rewards any one who explores it.
One other point. The hunting of gurd is a fact, and is actually carried out by the Yakuts and Tungusi of today.
July 18, 1919: “Star of Evil Omen”
Pigtails—a word on them from H. A. Lamb in connection with his story in this issue:
By the way, in the future drawing for “The Star of Evil Omen,” I'd like to voice a warning. Chinese of all classes, of the Ming period—up to 1643—who are in the story, did not wear pigtails. The Manchus did.
There are Manchu hunters with long hair in the story. But the Emperor and his court had short hair.
The history of the pigtail is interesting. The Tatars—including the Manchus, who were and are of Tatar blood—worshipped the horse. They let their back hair grow and shaved their foreheads in imitation of a horse's mane.
The Cossacks had a lot of respect for the Tatars, and imitated them. Up to the present century the Cossacks grew a “scalp-lock,” as Schweider has very accurately drawn.
When the Manchus conquered China proper, about 1640, they issued a dictum that long hair—pigtails—was the fashion. The adherents of the defeated Mings then had to wear pigtails or be beheaded. Most of them wore the tails.
Up to the present day a long pigtail was a sign of a valued citizen and official of China. Lately, the men of China have left them off, more or less, like the binding on the feet of the Ming women.
September 18, 1919: “Rider of Gray Horse”
In connection with his story in this issue Harold A. Lamb gives us some illuminating glimpses into ancient history:
“The Rider of the Gray Horse” happens to be a battle cry of the Rajputs. These gentry were excellent fighters and possessed a great deal of pride.
Early in their history one Rajput prince was chasing another after a battle. As it chanced, they were brothers, and enemies. I think one was Prithvi-Raj. Overtaking his brother, whose horse was done up, instead of killing him he offered his own fresh gray mount. And returned to his C.O. to surrender himself in his brother's place.
This act is significant of the Rajput chivalry in the middle ages. The fact that they took this phrase “the rider of the gray horse” for a war-cry shows how highly they held a personal honor. Any one who knows of the annals of the Raj understands how jealously honor was guarded. Chitore was the stronghold of the Raj. Three times it was attacked and taken—twice by Moguls—and each time, instead of surrendering, the women burned themselves, and the men put on the yellow robes of death, ornamented with pearl necklaces, to fight to the last man.
As to the story of Nur-Jahan, this follows history. Being loved by Jahangir, when the latter came to the Mogul throne in 1605, Nur-Jahan's husband, Sher Afghan, was marked for death. Nur-Jahan, who was ambitious and returned Jahangir's love, was likewise marked for destruction by Sher Afghan, the Tiger Lord.
The affair was complicated by the fact that the later emperor, Akbar, father of Jahangir, regarded Nur-Jahan's beauty as dangerous to his son. Akbar had married Nur-Jahan to Sher Afghan to keep her out of Jahangir's hands. When Jalal-Ud-Din Akbar died, it was a case of which member of the e
ternal triangle could kill the other first.
Jahangir won. Sher Afghan, being under no delusion as to his fate, calmly sabered the official Jahangir dispatched to bring him to court, and died sword in hand.
So it happened that Nur-Jahan survived the enmity of Akbar and Sher Afghan. She was little more than a Persian adventuress; but she knew her own mind and possessed the beauty of Helen of Troy. Incidentally she made an excellent queen.
As to the Bonpas, the priests of Bon—they were a branch of the lamas known as the black hats. The followers of the Dalai Lama were then known as the yellow hats. The worship of Bon was of a phallic nature—based on magic, and erotic ceremonial. It resembled, and was allied to, that of Kali. Nur-Jahan, being Mohammadan, was outlawed by both Buddhists and Hindus.
About the Author
Harold Lamb (1892-1962) was born in Alpine nj, the son of Eliza Rollison and Frederick Lamb, an artist and writer. Lamb later described himself as having been born with damaged eyes, ears, and speech, adding that by adulthood these problems had mostly righted themselves. He was never very comfortable in crowds or cities and found school “a torment.” He had two main refuges when growing up—his grandfather's library and the outdoors. Lamb loved tennis and played the game well into his later years.
Lamb attended Columbia, where he first dug into the histories of Eastern civilizations, ever after his lifelong fascination. He served briefly in World War I as an infantryman but saw no action. In 1917 he married Ruth Barbour, and by all accounts their marriage was a long and happy one. They had two children, Frederick and Cary. Arthur Sullivan Hoffman, the chief editor of Adventure magazine, recognized Lamb's storytelling skills and encouraged him to write about the subjects he most loved. For the next twenty years or so, historical fiction set in the remote East flowed from Lamb's pen, and he quickly became one of Adventure's most popular writers. Lamb did not stop with fiction, however, and soon began to draft biographies and screenplays. By the time the pulp magazine market dried up, Lamb was an established and recognized historian, and for the rest of his life he produced respected biographies and histories, earning numerous awards, including one from the Persian government for his two-volume history of the Crusades.
Lamb knew many languages: by his own account, French, Latin, ancient Persian, some Arabic, a smattering of Turkish, a bit of Manchu-Tartar, and medieval Ukranian. He traveled throughout Asia, visiting most of the places he wrote about, and during World War II he was on covert assignment overseas for the U.S. government. He is remembered today both for his scholarly histories and for his swashbuckling tales of daring Cossacks and Crusaders. “Life is good, after all,” Lamb once wrote, “when a man can go where he wants to, and write about what he likes best.”
Source Acknowledgments
The stories within this volume were originally published in Adventure magazine: “Khlit,” November i, 1917; “Wolf's War,” January i, 1918; “Tal Taulai Khan,” February 14, 1918; “Alamut,” August i, 1918; “The Mighty Manslayer,” October 15, 1918; “The White Khan,” December 15, 1918; “Changa Nor,” February i, 1919; “Roof of the World,” April 15,1919; “The Star of Evil Omen,” July 15, 1919; and “The Rider of the Gray Horse,” September 15,
i9i9.
Table of Contents
Contents
Foreword
Acknowledgments
Introduction
IV
Tal Taulai Khan
VII
Alamut
v
X
The Mighty Manslayer
V
XII
XVI
The White Khan
VI
XIII
XX
Changa Nor
V
X
XIV
Roof of the World
VI
XII
The Star of Evil Omen
IV
VI
The Rider of the Gray Horse
VII
XI
XV
Appendix
About the Author
Source Acknowledgments
Table of Contents
Contents
Foreword
Acknowledgments
Introduction
IV
Tal Taulai Khan
VII
Alamut
v
X
The Mighty Manslayer
XII
XVI
The White Khan
VI
XIII
XX
Changa Nor
XIV
Roof of the World
The Star of Evil Omen
The Rider of the Gray Horse
XI
XV
Appendix
About the Author
Source Acknowledgments