Storm from the east, p.9
Storm from the East, page 9
The most important difference between European and Mongol horsemen was the development of armour. By the first half of the thirteenth century the northern European knight wore heavy steel mail that covered virtually every part of his body. Over his bare back he wore two separate linen undershirts, plus one that was padded called an aketon. On top of this he wore a long mail tunic, called a hauberk, that hung down to about midthigh. Underneath the skirt he wore thick woollen hose and then mail leggings that laced up to his crutch. Over his head he put on a linen hood called a coif, then a heavy mail coif, and on top of that the distinctive bucket-shaped helm. On top of his mail hauberk, he wore a simple linen surplice or surcoat that bore the emblem of his order, or coat of arms. The entire outfit, including broadsword, lance and shield, weighed well over 45 kg (100 lb), and with the rider himself it was an enormous burden to place on the back of a horse. In consequence the European horseman was far less mobile than his Mongol counterpart. He could not manage delicate or intricate manoeuvres; the day was usually decided on the basis of a rather basic head-on clash. Once the charge had taken place, most knights dismounted (or were brought down) and combat continued with blade and shield in ferocious hand-to-hand combat. First lance, then sword and axe were wielded against shield and mail in very close fighting, for the essence of knightly combat was a vicious duel to the death with an opponent.
Behind the cavalry would be the infantry, usually a mob of untrained and badly equipped peasants who had been forced into the army to serve the knights and usually got cut down by the enemy’s horsemen. The knights themselves were not trained officers, and their individual combat skills were of no use when leading men into battle. The size of their retinue was an indication of their wealth, not their ability, and there was no clear chain of command down from the commander-in-chief.
The only area in which the Europeans excelled was in the construction of fortifications (the ultimate defence against horsemen) and in siege warfare. But nothing in the European experience had taught them any other form of warfare. Even during the Crusades most European armies were engaged either in the defence of fortified towns or in laying siege to them. Yet, in the event, these skills proved of little consequence when the encounter with the Mongols finally took place.
By contrast the Mongols were a tightly disciplined fighting machine, in which each soldier knew his place and his responsibilities. He did not fight as an individual, but as part of a massive formation that was led in and out of well-drilled manoeuvres. When the Mongol army advanced, they approached as a series of long single ranks, made up of a number of units. The first two consisted of heavy cavalry, followed by three ranks of light cavalry. Out on either flank and up front were further, smaller, detachments of light cavalry.
An encounter with the enemy was rarely a surprise because there were scouts out in the field who were able to communicate with the main body through a system of flags and messengers. When the enemy had been engaged, either on the flank or in front, the outer detachments quickly became the vanguard and were soon reinforced from the rear. Once the enemy’s position and disposition had been discovered, the three rear ranks of light cavalry would move up through the ranks of heavy cavalry and gallop up to the line. Rarely would any of these detachments engage the enemy in close combat. Instead, they would detach small squadrons of some ten or twenty riders to gallop across the enemy’s line, pouring in a deadly shower of arrows.
The Mongols also preferred to manoeuvre the enemy’s ranks to exactly where they wanted them. They did this by deploying the mangudai, a corps of ‘suicide troops’ that charged straight at the enemy line. As they approached within range of the enemy, they would suddenly break ranks, turn and flee. The sight of the Mongols in flight was a temptation that most enemy commanders could not resist. With the enemy cavalry in hot pursuit, the mangudai galloped to a prearranged spot – where the rest of the army lay in wait. By the time the enemy had reached the killing ground, their ranks were already spread out and made easy targets. From 200 m (180 yards) away the Mongol archers would let loose a hail of arrows until the enemy’s ranks had been shredded, and it was time for the heavy cavalry to be deployed. This was summoned by the sound of the naqara, a huge drum carried into battle on a camel. The heavy brigade would begin at a walk, gradually breaking into a trot – and then, on a signal from their commander and the appropriate beat of the drum, a terrifying shriek would rend the air, lances would be lowered and the horses spurred into a gallop.
But there was more to the Mongol army than cavalry. Following their long campaigns in China and Persia, they had acquired a great deal of expertise in siege warfare and artillery. From China they had taken up the rather lightweight Chinese siege machines and adapted them to the battlefield. There was a light catapult that could launch a 1 kg (2 lb) missile more than 100 m (100 yards), and a heavier machine that would fire an 11 kg (25 lb) projectile more than 150 m (150 yards). The advantage of the lighter device was that it could be dismantled and carried with the main body of the army. Both of these machines could be used either to launch rocks at walls or gates, or to hurl naphtha or burning tar into the enemy’s lines. But their range was not very great, and it was not until the Mongols had adapted machines captured from the Khwarazm Shah’s army that they really had a formidable artillery. The Islamic designs were adapted to the lighter Chinese models to create something similar to the European catapult or trebuchet, with a range of more than 350 m (350 yards). They also adopted the ballista, which looked like a giant crossbow and fired a heavy arrow over the same range as a catapult, but with far more accuracy. These were light enough to be carried on to the battlefield, and could be used to push back the enemy’s front line, which was often set up before the army’s advance.
But perhaps the most important war-making invention that the Mongols adopted was the Chinese discovery of explosives, which they probably first encountered during the wars against the Chin. They were used either in the form of rockets, which, fired en masse into the enemy’s ranks, caused little damage but much alarm; or as grenades – clay vessels packed with explosives and hurled either by catapult or by hand. It might also have been possible for the Mongols to use cannon, as the Chinese had used them since the eleventh century, but there are no accounts of their doing so.
Virtually every new military invention was taken up and used by the Mongols and with these machines they quickly developed the modern principles of artillery. A prolonged battering from rocks, burning tar, grenades and fire bombs into the enemy lines would be followed up by an attack from mounted archers. These carefully rehearsed manoeuvres depended on great mobility and discipline. Although the bombardment was not nearly as accurate as the mounted archers, it spread fear and confusion among the enemy and made the archers’ job much easier.
The image of the Mongol army on the march must have been an inspiring sight. Each tumen (roughly 10,000 men, but it was rarely up to that strength) was equipped with additional supplies of weapons and equipment carried on packhorses behind their ranks. Way off in the rear among the artillery and reserves was the main baggage train, made up of vast numbers of camels and wagons. Some of the wagons would be carrying supplies and equipment, but many would also be supporting mobile gers. In the midst of huge clouds of dust it would have seemed like a convoy of tents floating through the countryside; and behind it trotted flocks of sheep and goats that would provide food and drink for the thousands. Twentieth-century military historians have described the Mongol army as the precursor of the modern military force made up of tanks and artillery, and it is hardly surprising that two of the greatest exponents of tank warfare, Field Marshal Rommel and General George S. Patton, were both students and admirers of the legendary Subedei. The European armies of the thirteenth century were ill-prepared for what was emerging out of the East.
INTO RUSSIA
In the winter of 1237, the great Mongol juggernaut crossed the frozen Volga and set out, according to Subedei’s plan, to drive swiftly deep into the heart of Russia dividing the dozen principalities that ruled the region and reducing the risk of a united opposition. The prospect for that was at any rate slim. Over the previous thousand years the Russians had gallantly withstood invasions from Swedes, French and Germans; however, the Mongols now found a nation perilously unable to produce a joint concentration of military force – even under the most critical circumstances. Their internecine rivalry made Mongol victory that much more likely.
Nevertheless, the Mongols’ objective was total conquest and with that in mind they were not prepared to take any risks. The most powerful of the Russian princes were Grand Duke Yuri of Suzdal and Prince Michael of Kiev. The plan was to drive between the two and isolate Suzdal and Novgorod from the lands of Chernigov and Kiev. Having crossed the Volga, the Mongols rode north through thick forests to disguise their arrival. A woman ambassador was despatched with two riders to confront the first obstacle, the principality of Riazan, which lay on the eastern frontier of Russia.
The citizens were so surprised at the sight of a woman at their gates that they were certain she was a sorceress and refused to let her in. But she had probably been chosen because she spoke their language. At any rate, the two sides were forced to conduct their business by shouting at one another. The Mongol demand was for submission, a tax of 10 per cent and reinforcements for their army. The Riazan prince replied contemptuously that, if the Mongols were prepared to wait, once the inhabitants had all gone they could have everything.
Subedei had already decided to make an example of Riazan. The city was surrounded by thick forests from which the Mongols now cut timber to construct a stockade that encircled the city walls. From behind this, Subedei’s artillery could fire upon the city with impunity. After five days of relentless bombardment the city was taken, then systematically razed to the ground. The prince and his family were all slaughtered – some impaled, others flayed alive. The entire population of young women was raped including all the nuns, while others were forced to watch. As was intended, a few survivors were allowed to escape so that the warning spread elsewhere.
From Riazan the Mongols moved on to Kolomna and then into Suzdalia, where they took the town of Moscow. After Moscow they turned back again and rode east towards the city of Vladimir, where they also employed the stockade technique. After Vladimir they divided their forces and criss-crossed the countryside, bringing terror from one town to another, in an attempt to flush out the main army of the Grand Duke of Suzdalia. By February they had located it and, without the hapless Grand Duke ever being aware, managed to surround the entire army before bringing down on it a deadly shower of arrows.
While Subedei was slaughtering Suzdalians, Batu had marched on to Novgorod. But his progress was delayed; he was caught out by the approaching thaw, which turned the countryside into a maze of impassable marshes, and the attack of Novgorod city was abandoned. Batu joined up with Subedei again and they rode south-west towards what is now western Ukraine. Along the way they were held up at the city of Kozelsk. Here the defenders were prepared and had decided to ride out to meet the Mongols rather than find themselves besieged and bombarded as their neighbours had been. Their garrison managed to catch the Mongol vanguard unprepared and inflicted a great many losses. Unfortunately, this only meant that Batu and Subedei halted their march to the green pastures of Ukraine and dealt with the upstart city of Kozelsk. The defenders’ resistance was by all accounts heroic and lasted no fewer than seven weeks, but when it finally fell the population was put to the sword and there were no survivors. The slaughter was so great that the Mongols themselves renamed Kozelsk the City of Woe. By now the army was sorely depleted and in need of rest. They continued south and finally made their encampment in the great breadbasket that is the Don Basin. Reinforcements were summoned from across the various vassal states, fresh horses were driven from Mongolia and for a whole year the army rested and rebuilt its strength. Small detachments were sent off on raiding expeditions to subdue the various nomadic tribes that inhabited southern Russia and north Caucasia – and in the process to gather in further recruits. This time it was the turn of the Circassians, Alans, Kipchaks and Cumans. Although most of the Cumans and Kipchaks were captured, their leader, Khan Ko’tian, managed to escape with a force of some 40,000 through the Carpathian passes into Hungary.
Nevertheless, the Mongol raids were so successful, especially those conducted by Batu’s young brother Berke, that they actually gathered up more slave-soldiers than they could employ. Many were sold off for gold, in particular to the new Sultan of Egypt who was keen to establish himself as a power within the Middle East. It was an ironic transaction, since it had tremendous repercussions for the Mongols in the years to come. These Turkic nomadic slave-soldiers soon became the most powerful element of the Sultan’s army. By 1250, one of their leaders, Aybak, had married into the Egyptian royal line, created the Bahri regime and become the first Mamluk Sultan of Egypt. The Mamluks and the Mongols were destined to meet again and again throughout the second half of the century.
MONGOL RIVALRIES
By the spring of 1240 the Mongol army had reassembled and was ready to continue the campaign. However, before it got under way a rift developed among the Mongol princes that was to have consequences later. Although Batu had been given nominal command of a large and powerful army, it was made up of elements from every corner of the empire. With a vast array of resources and at the express will of the Great Khan, Batu’s own personal realm was being expanded further and further west, adding very significantly to his own wealth and prestige. This situation apparently irritated a number of the princes in his entourage, but nothing was said until a trifling incident during a banquet to celebrate the recommencement of the campaign. It was the Mongol custom at a celebration for the most senior to have the privilege of drinking first. Batu, without thinking otherwise, lifted his glass and drank before any of the other princes. Although he was perfectly entitled to do so, he had shown not the slightest hint of offering to defer to any of his nephews or cousins, and some of the princes felt insulted by his presumption of superiority. They expected to be treated as equals.
Princes Guyuk and Buri, the son of Ogedei Khan and grandson of Chaghadai Khan respectively, were so incensed that they stormed out of the tent. Batu then complained to Ogedei Khan that he had been insulted in public by his cousins, who had since both returned to Qaraqorum – to the great embarrassment of the court. Ogedei was now placed in a difficult position: his son Guyuk was already the focus of a campaign to become the next Great Khan and, unless Batu’s charges were answered, Guyuk’s chances might be jeopardised. Rather than be seen to chastise his son and nephew in public, Ogedei referred to the Yasa for a solution. There they discovered that Genghis Khan had once declared that any transgressions committed in the midst of a campaign had to be dealt with by the commander in the field. Batu himself would have to decide on the punishment. The two princes set out on the ignominious return to the western steppe, where it seems that Batu was only too glad to see them take up their commands again. There is no record of any punishment. However, the incident was not forgotten and beneath the surface animosity continued to brew.
With the campaign under way again, it was the turn of the principalities of Chernigov and Kiev to face the Mongol onslaught. For the past year most of the Russian princes had had time either to ponder the magnitude of the Mongol catastrophe or to dread the prospect of it. Once again Mongol progress seemed relentless and the cities of Chernigov and Pereislav fell in quick succession, causing Prince Michael of Kiev to decide that resistance was useless. He and his entourage fled to Hungary and from there to Silesia in what is now western Poland. The defence of Kiev, the political and religious capital of Russia, was left to the governor, Dmitri. Batu had entrusted the offensive to his cousin Mongke, the eldest son of Tolui; Mongke, conscious of the city’s great importance to the Russians, attempted to take it undamaged. Unfortunately, Dmitri refused to surrender and sealed the city’s fate by murdering Mongke’s envoys. Russian chroniclers recorded how ‘clouds of Tartars’ approached the town, and claimed that the thundering sound of wagons, bellowing cattle, the hooves of thousands of horses, war cries and so on were so loud that people within the city walls could barely make themselves heard without shouting.
The bombardment began once Batu had arrived to oversee his cousin’s efforts. The Mongols concentrated their attack upon the so-called Polish or Western Gate, where the battlements were made of wood. It fell quickly, and within a matter of days the outer wall had been breached. Since Kiev had no citadel the final battle was fought at the church of the Virgin, which had been hurriedly fortified. But the work had been in vain as the entire structure collapsed under the weight of hundreds of terrified citizens who had climbed up on to the roof. Dmitri was captured but, because he had remained to defend his city while his lord had fled, the Mongols set him free. Again the destruction was appalling, and the only major structure to survive was the magnificent Cathedral of St Sophia. Six years after the disaster a European traveller described the once-splendid city: ‘Many valuable artistic relics and architectural monuments were reduced to rubble.’ Kiev, ‘the mother of Russian cities’, lost its place as the principal city of all Russia; henceforth the focus of political power would lie in the north-east.
From Kiev, the Mongols marched west to the Russian border into the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains. Along the way they over-ran the country of Galicia, taking the cities of Volhynia, Cherven, Lvov and Przemysl. It was near Przemysl, on what is now the Polish border, that Batu established his winter encampment – his springboard into Europe. The question was, where to attack and when? The logical approach would have been to wait until the spring and ensure the expedition had the best of the weather. Poland was the obvious target, because there was nothing but open country between it and the Mongols. But Batu and Subedei had a far more sophisticated campaign in mind, and in any case an issue had developed between Batu and the Hungarian king that required attention.
