It now appeared that the reports of Sartak’s conversion to Christianity, which had probably been circulated in Christendom by the vanity of the Nestorians, were wholly without foundation; and with respect to the other points touched upon in the letters of the French king, the khan professed himself unable to make any reply without the counsel of his father Batou, to whose court, therefore, he directed the ambassadors to proceed. They accordingly recommenced their journey, and moving towards the east, crossed the Volga, and traversed the plains of Kipjak, until they arrived at the camp of this new sovereign, whose mighty name seems never before to have reached their ears. Rubruquis was singularly astonished, however, at the sight of this prodigious encampment, which covered the plain for the space of three or four leagues, the royal tent rising like an immense dome in the centre, with a vast open space before it on the southern side.
On the morning after their arrival they were presented to the khan. They found Batou, the description of whose red countenance reminds the reader of Tacitus’s portrait of Domitian, seated upon a lofty throne glittering with gold. One of his wives sat near him, and around this lady and the other wives of Batou, who were all present, his principal courtiers had taken their station. Rubruquis was now commanded by his conductor to kneel before the prince. He accordingly bent one knee, and was about to speak, when his guide informed him by a sign that it was necessary to bend both. This he did, and then imagining, he says, that he was kneeling before God, in order to keep up the illusion, he commenced his speech with an ejaculation. Having prayed that to the earthly gifts which the Almighty had showered down so abundantly upon the khan, the favour of Heaven might be added, he proceeded to say, that the spiritual gifts to which he alluded could be obtained only by becoming a Christian; for that God himself had said, “He who believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he who believeth not shall be damned.” At these words the khan smiled; but his courtiers, less hospitable and polite, began to clap their hands, and hoot and mock at the denouncer of celestial vengeance. The interpreter, who, in all probability, wholly misrepresented the speeches he attempted to translate, and thus, perhaps, by some inconceivable blunders excited the derision of the Tartars, now began to be greatly terrified, as did Rubruquis himself, who probably remembered that the leader of a former embassy had been menaced with the fate of St. Bartholomew. Batou, however, who seems to have compassionated his sufferings, desired him to rise up; and turning the conversation into another channel, began to make inquiries respecting the French king, asking what was his name, and whether it was true that he had quitted his own country for the purpose of carrying on a foreign war. Rubruquis then endeavoured, but I know not with what success, to explain the motives of the crusaders, and several other topics upon which Batou required information. Observing that the ambassador was much dejected, and apparently filled with terror, the khan commanded him to sit down; and still more to reassure him and dissipate his apprehensions, ordered a bowl of mare’s milk, or koismos, to be put out before him, which, as bread and salt among the Arabs, is with them the sacred pledge of hospitality; but perceiving that even this failed to dispel his gloomy thoughts, he bade him look up and be of good cheer, giving him clearly to understand that no injury was designed him.
Notwithstanding the barbaric magnificence of his court, and the terror with which he had inspired Rubruquis, Batou was but a dependent prince, who would not for his head have dared to determine good or evil respecting any ambassador entering Tartary,—every thing in these matters depending upon the sovereign will of his brother Mangou, the Great Khan of the Mongols. Batou, in fact, caused so much to be signified to Rubruquis, informing him, that to obtain a reply to the letters he had brought, he must repair to the court of the Khe-Khan. When they had been allowed sufficient time for repose, a Tartar chief was assigned them as a guide, and being furnished with horses for themselves and their necessary baggage, the remainder being left behind, and with sheepskin coats to defend them from the piercing cold, they set forward towards the camp of Mangou, then pitched near the extreme frontier of Mongolia, at the distance of four months’ journey.
The privations and fatigue which they endured during this journey were indescribable. Whenever they changed horses, the wily Tartar impudently selected the best beast for himself, though Rubruquis was a large heavy man, and therefore required a powerful animal to support his weight. If any of their horses flagged on the way, the whip and the stick were mercilessly plied, to compel him, whether he would or not, to keep pace with the others, which scoured along over the interminable steppes with the rapidity of an arrow; and when, as sometimes happened, the beast totally foundered, the two Franks (for there were now but two, the third having remained with Sartak) were compelled to mount, the one behind the other, on the same horse, and thus follow their indefatigable and unfeeling conductor. Hard riding was not, however, the only hardship which they had to undergo. Thirst, and hunger, and cold were added to fatigue; for they were allowed but one meal per day, which they always ate in the evening, when their day’s journey was over. Their food, moreover, was not extremely palatable, consisting generally of the shoulder or ribs of some half-starved sheep, which, to increase the savouriness of its flavour, was cooked with ox and horse-dung, and devoured half-raw. As they advanced, their conductor, who at the commencement regarded them with great contempt, and appears to have been making the experiment whether hardship would kill them or not, grew reconciled to his charge, perceiving that they would not die, and introduced them as they proceeded to various powerful and wealthy Mongols, who seem to have treated them kindly, offering them, in return for their prayers, gold, and silver, and costly garments. The Hindoos, who imagine the East India Company to be an old woman, are a type of those sagacious Tartars, who, as Rubruquis assures us, supposed that the pope was an old man whose beard had been blanched by five hundred winters.
On the 31st of October, they turned their horses’ heads towards the south, and proceeded for eight days through a desert, where they beheld large droves of wild asses, which, like those seen by the Ten Thousand in Mesopotamia, were far too swift for the fleetest steeds. During the seventh day, they perceived on their right the glittering peaks of the Caucasus towering above the clouds, and arrived on the morrow at Kenkat, a Mohammedan town, where they tasted of wine, and that delicious liquor which the orientals extract from rice. At a city which Rubruquis calls Egaius, near Lake Baikal, he found traces of the Persian language; and shortly afterward entered the country of the Orrighers, an idolatrous, or at least a pagan race, who worshipped with their faces towards the north, while the east was at that period the Kableh, or praying-point of the Christians.
Our traveller, though far from being intolerant for his age, had not attained that pitch of humanity which teaches us to do to others as we would they should do unto us; for upon entering a temple, which, from his description, we discover to have been dedicated to Buddha, and finding the priests engaged in their devotions, he irreverently disturbed them by asking questions, and endeavouring to enter into conversation with them. The Buddhists, consistently with the mildness of their religion, rebuked this intrusion by the most obstinate silence, or by continual repetitions of the words “Om, Om! hactavi!” which, as he was afterward informed, signified, “Lord, Lord! thou knowest it!” These priests, like the bonzes of China, Ava, and Siam, shaved their heads, and wore flowing yellow garments, probably to show their contempt for the Brahminical race, among whom yellow is the badge of the most degraded castes. They believed in one God, and, like their Hindoo forefathers, burned their dead, and erected pyramids over their ashes.
Continuing their journey with their usual rapidity, they arrived on the last day of the year at the court of Mangou, who was encamped in a plain of immeasurable extent, and as level as the sea. Here, notwithstanding the rigour of the cold, Rubruquis, conformably to the rules of his order, went to court barefoot,—a piece of affectation for which he afterward suffered severely. Three or four days’ experience of the cold of Northern Tartary cured him of this folly, however; so that by the 4th of January, 1254, when he was admitted to an audience of Mangou, he was content to wear shoes like another person.
On entering the imperial tent, heedless of time and place, Rubruquis and his companion began to chant the hymn “A Solis Ortu,” which, in all probability made the khan, who understood not one word of what they said, and knew the meaning of none of their ceremonies, regard them as madmen. However, on this point nothing was said; only, before they advanced into the presence they were carefully searched, lest they should have concealed knives or daggers under their robes with which they might assassinate the khan. Even their interpreter was compelled to leave his belt and kharjar with the porter. Mare’s milk was placed on a low table near the entrance, close to which they were desired to seat themselves, upon a kind of long seat, or form, opposite the queen and her ladies. The floor was covered with cloth of gold, and in the centre of the apartment was a kind of open stove, in which a fire of thorns, and other dry sticks, mingled with cow-dung, was burning. The khan, clothed in a robe of shining fur, something resembling seal-skin, was seated on a small couch. He was a man of about forty-five, of middling stature, with a thick flat nose. His queen, a young and beautiful woman, was seated near him, together with one of his daughters by a former wife, a princess of marriageable age, and a great number of young children.
The first question put to them by the khan was, what they would drink; there being upon the table four species of beverage,—wine, cerasine, or rice-wine, milk, and a sort of metheglin. They replied that they were no great drinkers, but would readily taste of whatever his majesty might please to command; upon which the khan directed his cupbearer to place cerasine before them. The Turcoman interpreter, who was a man of very different mettle, and perhaps thought it a sin to permit the khan’s wine to lie idle, had meanwhile conceived a violent affection for the cupbearer, and had so frequently put his services in requisition, that whether he was in the imperial tent or in a Frank tavern was to him a matter of some doubt. Mangou himself had pledged his Christian guests somewhat too freely; and in order to allow his brain leisure to adjust itself, and at the same time to excite the wonder of the strangers by his skill in falconry, commanded various kinds of birds of prey to be brought, each of which he placed successively upon his hand, and considered with that steady sagacity which men a little touched with wine are fond of exhibiting.
Having assiduously regarded the birds long enough to evince his imperial contempt of politeness, Mangou desired the ambassadors to speak. Rubruquis obeyed, and delivered an harangue of some length, which, considering the muddy state of the interpreter’s brain and the extremely analogous condition of the khan’s, may very safely be supposed to have been dispersed, like the rejected prayers of the Homeric heroes, in empty air. In reply, as he wittily observes, Mangou made a speech, from which, as it was translated to him, the ambassador could infer nothing except that the interpreter was extremely drunk, and the emperor very little better. In spite of this cloudy medium, however, he imagined he could perceive that Mangou intended to express some displeasure at their having in the first instance repaired to the court of Sartak rather than to his; but observing that the interpreter’s brain was totally hostile to the passage of rational ideas, Rubruquis wisely concluded that silence would be his best friend on the occasion, and he accordingly addressed himself to that moody and mysterious power, and shortly afterward received permission to retire.