Podcasts about mongol invasions

Although Japan was never conquered by the Mongol empire, the 1274 and 1281 Mongol invasions were commemorated, remembered, and imagined in Japanese historical writings. How did history books, genealogies, gazetteers, local histories, and artworks represent the Mongol invasions? What role did the idea of the invasions play in the creation of cultural identity? In The Historical Writing of the Mongol Invasions in Japan (Harvard University Asia Center, 2024) Judith Vitale takes on these questions, carefully exploring how the Mongol invasions featured in the creation of national culture in Japan. The Historical Writing of the Mongol Invasions in Japan is thus about Japanese history, but also about how history is created, how the past is remembered, and how history can be used as fuel for both patriotism and nationalism. It should be of interest to those in Japanese Studies, East Asian History, and anyone curious about how national histories are created. Interested readers (and listeners!) should also check out another book Judith was involved with, Drugs and the Politics of Consumption in Japan (Brill, 2023), which was co-edited with Miriam Kingsberg Kadia, and Oleg Benesch, and featured on the NBN!  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/intellectual-history

Although Japan was never conquered by the Mongol empire, the 1274 and 1281 Mongol invasions were commemorated, remembered, and imagined in Japanese historical writings. How did history books, genealogies, gazetteers, local histories, and artworks represent the Mongol invasions? What role did the idea of the invasions play in the creation of cultural identity? In The Historical Writing of the Mongol Invasions in Japan (Harvard University Asia Center, 2024) Judith Vitale takes on these questions, carefully exploring how the Mongol invasions featured in the creation of national culture in Japan. The Historical Writing of the Mongol Invasions in Japan is thus about Japanese history, but also about how history is created, how the past is remembered, and how history can be used as fuel for both patriotism and nationalism. It should be of interest to those in Japanese Studies, East Asian History, and anyone curious about how national histories are created. Interested readers (and listeners!) should also check out another book Judith was involved with, Drugs and the Politics of Consumption in Japan (Brill, 2023), which was co-edited with Miriam Kingsberg Kadia, and Oleg Benesch, and featured on the NBN!  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Although Japan was never conquered by the Mongol empire, the 1274 and 1281 Mongol invasions were commemorated, remembered, and imagined in Japanese historical writings. How did history books, genealogies, gazetteers, local histories, and artworks represent the Mongol invasions? What role did the idea of the invasions play in the creation of cultural identity? In The Historical Writing of the Mongol Invasions in Japan (Harvard University Asia Center, 2024) Judith Vitale takes on these questions, carefully exploring how the Mongol invasions featured in the creation of national culture in Japan. The Historical Writing of the Mongol Invasions in Japan is thus about Japanese history, but also about how history is created, how the past is remembered, and how history can be used as fuel for both patriotism and nationalism. It should be of interest to those in Japanese Studies, East Asian History, and anyone curious about how national histories are created. Interested readers (and listeners!) should also check out another book Judith was involved with, Drugs and the Politics of Consumption in Japan (Brill, 2023), which was co-edited with Miriam Kingsberg Kadia, and Oleg Benesch, and featured on the NBN!  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Although Japan was never conquered by the Mongol empire, the 1274 and 1281 Mongol invasions were commemorated, remembered, and imagined in Japanese historical writings. How did history books, genealogies, gazetteers, local histories, and artworks represent the Mongol invasions? What role did the idea of the invasions play in the creation of cultural identity? In The Historical Writing of the Mongol Invasions in Japan (Harvard University Asia Center, 2024) Judith Vitale takes on these questions, carefully exploring how the Mongol invasions featured in the creation of national culture in Japan. The Historical Writing of the Mongol Invasions in Japan is thus about Japanese history, but also about how history is created, how the past is remembered, and how history can be used as fuel for both patriotism and nationalism. It should be of interest to those in Japanese Studies, East Asian History, and anyone curious about how national histories are created. Interested readers (and listeners!) should also check out another book Judith was involved with, Drugs and the Politics of Consumption in Japan (Brill, 2023), which was co-edited with Miriam Kingsberg Kadia, and Oleg Benesch, and featured on the NBN!  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/east-asian-studies

Although Japan was never conquered by the Mongol empire, the 1274 and 1281 Mongol invasions were commemorated, remembered, and imagined in Japanese historical writings. How did history books, genealogies, gazetteers, local histories, and artworks represent the Mongol invasions? What role did the idea of the invasions play in the creation of cultural identity? In The Historical Writing of the Mongol Invasions in Japan (Harvard University Asia Center, 2024) Judith Vitale takes on these questions, carefully exploring how the Mongol invasions featured in the creation of national culture in Japan. The Historical Writing of the Mongol Invasions in Japan is thus about Japanese history, but also about how history is created, how the past is remembered, and how history can be used as fuel for both patriotism and nationalism. It should be of interest to those in Japanese Studies, East Asian History, and anyone curious about how national histories are created. Interested readers (and listeners!) should also check out another book Judith was involved with, Drugs and the Politics of Consumption in Japan (Brill, 2023), which was co-edited with Miriam Kingsberg Kadia, and Oleg Benesch, and featured on the NBN!  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/japanese-studies

※スクリプトは⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Japanese with K⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ , Patreon patreon.com/user?u=80021678 にあります。Paid members will have access to English subtitles and Japanese scripts in two versions: one with hiragana and one without.In order to sustain this endeavor,Kei relies on support from all of you. If you enjoy this podcast, please consider supporting Kei!

William Dalrymple's "The Anarchy" is a historical account of the rise of the East India Company in India. The book explores how the EIC's ruthless pursuit of power and wealth led to the downfall of the Mughal Empire. In this episode, William shares some interesting stories about the East India Company with some lesser known facts about this corporation that grew powerful. Tune in for a wonderful episode on Indian and British history. Resource List - The Company Quartet, by William Dalrymple - https://amzn.in/d/eiBRXBy William Dalrymple Website - https://williamdalrymple.com/ Mongol Invasions of India - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mongol_invasions_of_India Read more about the Red Dragon ship - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Dragon_(1595) Charles II and Catherine of Braganza - https://thehistorypress.co.uk/article/charles-ii-and-catherine-of-braganza-a-loveless-marriage/ Read more about the First Carnatic War - https://www.pw.live/exams/ssc/first-carnatic-war/ Who were the Jagat Seths? - https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/etimes/trending/meet-jagat-seths-an-indian-family-so-rich-they-lent-money-to-the-british/articleshow/102916190.cms?from=mdr Read more about the Battle of Plassey - https://www.britannica.com/event/Battle-of-Plassey Read more about the Battle of Buxar - https://www.britannica.com/event/Battle-of-Buxar https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Buxar https://pure.jgu.edu.in/id/eprint/6264/1/thedailystar.net-The%20battle%20of%20plassey%20A%20Tale%20of%20Triumph%20and%20Betrayal.pdf What are Sepoys? - https://www.worldhistory.org/Sepoy/ About SparX by Mukesh Bansal SparX is a podcast where we delve into cutting-edge scientific research, stories from impact-makers and tools for unlocking the secrets to human potential and growth. We believe that entrepreneurship, fitness and the science of productivity is at the forefront of the India Story; the country is at the cusp of greatness and at SparX, we wish to make these tools accessible for every generation of Indians to be able to make the most of the opportunities around us. In a new episode every Sunday, our host Mukesh Bansal (Founder Myntra and Cult.fit) will talk to guests from all walks of life and also break down everything he's learnt about the science of impact over the course of his 20-year long career. This is the India Century, and we're enthusiastic to start this journey with you. Follow us on Instagram: / sparxbymukeshbansal Website: https://www.sparxbymukeshbansal.com You can also listen to SparX on all audio platforms Fasion | Outbreak | Courtesy EpidemicSound.com

In Assassin's Creed Chronicles China, players foil a plot by Altan Khan to invade Ming China with his Mongol army. But who was Altan Khan, and how successful were the Mongols in crossing the Great Wall of China?To answer these questions and more, Matt Lewis is joined by Nic Morton, Associate Professor at Nottingham Trent University and author of The Mongol Storm: Making and Breaking Empires.Echoes of History is a Ubisoft podcast, brought to you by History Hit. Hosted by: Matt LewisEdited by: Tim ArstallProduced by: Matt Lewis, Robin McConnellSenior Producer: Anne-Marie LuffProduction Coordinator: Beth DonaldsonExecutive Producers: Etienne Bouvier, Julien Fabre, Steve Lanham, Jen BennettMusic:Main Theme by Aaron Miller & Mark RutherfordCave Session by Aaron Miller & Mark RutherfordGrotto Session by Aaron Miller & Mark RutherfordGreat Wall Tension by Aaron Miller & Mark RutherfordIf you liked this podcast please subscribe, share, rate & review. You can take part in our listener survey here: https://uk.surveymonkey.com/r/6FFT7MKTell us your favourite episode or Assassin's Creed game at echoes-of-history@historyhit.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This week Scott and Patrick are joined by Dan from Nice Podcast Stupid to discuss the foundational myth of the Japanese people. In the late 1200's during the reign of Kublai Khan, the mighty Mongol Empire set its sights on the isolated island country of Japan and through a series of daring battles, scenes of genocide and a few brushes with divine "Kami" the island nation was able to survive the onslaught that many of their many Asian neighbors were not. Check out Dan's show on youtube "Nice Podcast Stupid" and follow him on twitter @nicenamestupid Check out Patrick's work at www.cantgetfooledagain.com and follow him on twitter @cantgetfooledagin and instagram @cantgetfooledagainradio This week's episode was sponsored by Magic Mind. For 20 percent off any purchase or on the purchase of a new subscription visit our link at www.magicmind.com/historyh20 and use code HISTORYH20 For the audio version of the show visit www.historyhomos.com or subscribe and download on Itunes, spotify or wherever else podcasts are found. The video version is available on Bitchute, Odysee, Rumble, Rokfin and Substack For programming updates and news follow us across social media @historyhomospod and follow Scott @Scottlizardabrams OR subscribe to our telegram channel t.me/historyhomos At this time our telegram group chat is STILL the friendliest place on the internet. Join at t.me/historyhomoschat today! To support the show and get access to bonus episodes please join our community at www.historyhomospod.substack.com To order a History Homos T shirt (and recieve a free sticker) please send your shirt size and address to Historyhomos@gmail.com and please address all questions, comments and concerns there as well. Later homos --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/historyhomos/support

In the late 13th century, the Mongol Empire was at the peak of its power.  It was at this time that the Mongol Emperor of China, Kublai Khan, set his eyes on the islands of Japan.  On two separate occasions, the Mongols assembled the largest amphibious fleet in world history. Both times, they discovered the limits of their military conquests. Learn more about the Mongol invasions of Japan on this episode of Everything Everywhere Daily. Sponsors Plan your next trip to Spain at Spain.info! Sign up at butcherbox.com/daily and use code daily to get chicken breast, salmon or ground beef FREE in every order for a year plus $20 off your first order! Subscribe to the podcast!  https://link.chtbl.com/EverythingEverywhere?sid=ShowNotes -------------------------------- Executive Producer: Charles Daniel Associate Producers: Ben Long & Cameron Kieffer   Become a supporter on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/everythingeverywhere Update your podcast app at newpodcastapps.com Discord Server: https://discord.gg/UkRUJFh Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/everythingeverywhere/ Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/everythingeverywheredaily Twitter: https://twitter.com/everywheretrip Website: https://everything-everywhere.com/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Har du hørt om EGA Trek? Dette DOS-eksklusive spillet har sine røtter fra et Star Trek-spill fra 1971 for stormaskiner, men her altså i en PC-versjon. Les om episoden hos spillhistorie.no Støtt oss gjerne på Patreon. Følg oss gjerne på Bluesky, Twitter, Facebook, og Podchaser. (00:00) Intro (00:48) Velkommen til cd SPILL (02:19) Kommentarer fra forrige episode (08:43) Dagens spill: EGA Trek: The Mongol Invasion (11:06) Briefing (14:52) Hva går spillet ut på? (24:20) Tech Specs (27:46) Litt om hvordan man spiller (39:34) Hvem er Nels Anderson (42:45) Musikken (43:17) Kommentarer fra sosiale medier (45:48) Har det holdt seg? (47:02) Finnes det noe tilsvarende idag? (49:36) Et tips fra Mamen (51:39) Neste episode Chapters, images & show notes powered by vizzy.fm.

The Mongol Empire invaded and conquered much of Kievan Rus' in the mid-13th century, sacking numerous cities including the largest such as Kiev and Chernigov. The siege of Kiev in 1240 by the Mongols is generally held to mark the end of Kievan Rus', which had been undergoing fragmentation.  Travel to Peru and Germany with me here Check out our sister podcast the Mystery of Everything Coffee Collab With The Lore Lodge COFFEE Bonus episodes as well as ad-free episodes on Patreon. Find us on Instagram. Join us on Discord. Submit your relatives on our website Podcast Youtube Channel Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This is Part 2 of our special Gishiwajinden Tour from Gaya to Tsushima, Iki, Matsuro, Ito, and Na--aka Gimhae and Busan to Tsushima, Iki, Karatsu, Itoshima, and Fukuoka.  This time we talk about the island of Tsushima, the border island between Japan and Korea.  While itself a difficult place to make a living, it has long been the border--a place for foreign ambassadors, invadors, and pirates alike. For photos and more, check out our blogpost:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/tsushima Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Gishiwajinden Tour Stop 2: Tsushima. As I mentioned last episode, we are taking a break right now from the workings of the Chronicles while I prep a bit more research on the Taika reform.  As we do so, I'm taking you through a recent trip we took trying to follow the ancient sea routes from Gaya, on the Korean peninsula, across the islands to Na, in modern Fukuoka.  This may have been first described in the Wei Chronicles, the Weizhi, but it was the pathway that many visitors to the archipelago took up through the famous Mongol invasion, and even later missions from the Joseon kingdom on the Korean peninsula. Last episode, we talked about our start at Gimhae and Pusan.  Gimhae is the old Geumgwan Gaya, as far as we can tell, and had close connections with the archipelago as evidenced by the common items of material culture found on both sides of the strait.  From the coast of the Korean peninsula, ships would then sail for the island of Tsushima, the nearest of the islands between the mainland and the Japanese archipelago.  Today, ships still sail from Korea to Japan, but most leave out of the port of Pusan.  This includes regular cruise ships as well as specialty cruises and ferries.  For those who want, there are some popular trips between Pusan and Fukuoka or Pusan all the way to Osaka, through the Seto Inland Sea.  For us, however, we were looking at the shortest ferries, those to Tsushima.  Tsushima is a large island situated in the strait between Korea and Japan.  Technically it is actually three islands, as channels were dug in the 20th century to allow ships stationed around the island to quickly pass through rather than going all the way around. Tsushima is the closest Japanese island to Korea, actually closer to Korea than to the rest of Japan, which makes it a fun day trip from Pusan, so they get a lot of Korean tourists.  There are two ports that the ferries run to, generally speaking.  In the north is Hitakatsu, which is mainly a port for people coming from Korea.  Further south is Izuhara, which is the old castle town, where the So family once administered the island and relations with the continent, and where you can get a ferry to Iki from. Unfortunately for us, as I mentioned last episode, it turned out that the kami of the waves thwarted us in our plans to sail from Busan to Tsushima.  And so we ended up flying into Tsushima Airport, instead, which actually required us to take an international flight over to Fukuoka and then a short domestic flight back to Tsushima.  On the one hand, this was a lot of time out of our way, but on the other they were nice short flights with a break in the Fukuoka airport, which has great restaurants in the domestic terminal.  Furthermore, since we came into the centrally-located Tsushima airport, this route also gave us relatively easy access to local rental car agencies, which was helpful because although there is a bus service that runs up and down the islands, if you really want to explore Tsushima it is best to have a car.  Note that also means having an International Driver's Permit, at least in most cases, unless you have a valid Japanese drivers' license. As for why you need a car:  There is a bus route from north to south, but for many of the places you will likely want to go will take a bit more to get to.  If you speak Japanese and have a phone there are several taxi companies you can call, and you can try a taxi app, though make sure it works on the island.  In the end, having a car is extremely convenient. Tsushima is also quite mountainous, without a lot of flat land, and there are numerous bays and inlets in which ships can hide and shelter from bad weather—or worse.  Tsushima is renowned for its natural beauty.  Flora and fauna are shared with continent and the archipelago.  There are local subspecies of otter and deer found on the islands, but also the Yamaneko, or Mountain Cat, a subspecies of the Eurasian leopard cat that   is only found in Japan on Tsushima and on Iriomote, in the southern Okinawan island chain.  They also have their own breed of horse, as well, related to the ancient horses bred there since at least the 8th century. Tsushima is clearly an important part of Japan, and the early stories of the creation of the archipelago often include Tsushima as one of the original eight islands mentioned in the creation story.  That suggests it has been considered an ancient part of the archipelago since at least the 8th century, and likely much earlier. Humans likely first came to Tsushima on their crossing from what is now the Korean peninsula over to the archipelago at the end of the Pleistocene era, when sea levels were much lower.  However, we don't have clear evidence of humans until later, and this is likely because the terrain made it difficult to cultivate the land, and most of the activity was  focused on making a livelihood out of the ocean. Currently we have clear evidence of humans on the island from at least the Jomon period, including remnants such as shellmounds, though we don't have any clear sign of habitation.  It is possible that fishermen and others came to the islands during certain seasons, setting up fish camps and the like, and then departed, but it could be that there were more permanent settlements and we just haven't found them yet.  Most of the Jomon sites appear to be on the northern part of Tsushima, what is now the “upper island”, though, again, lack of evidence should not be taken as evidence of lack, and there could be more we just haven't found yet.  After all, sites like Izuhara, which was quite populated in later periods, may have disturbed any underlying layers that we could otherwise hope to find there, and perhaps we will one day stumble on something more that will change our understanding.  Things change a bit in the Yayoi period, and we see clear evidence of settlements, pit buildings, graves, and grave goods at various sites up through the Kofun period.   Unsurprisingly, the assembly of goods found include both archipelagic and continental material, which fits with its position in between the various cultures. Understandably, most of these archeological sites were investigated and then either covered back up for preservation or replaced by construction – so in many cases there isn't anything to see now, besides the artifacts in the museum.  But some of the earliest clear evidence that you can still go see today are the several kofun, ancient tumuli, scattered around the island at different points.  Most of the kofun on the island appear to be similar, and overall fairly small.  These are not the most impressive kofun—not the giant mounds found in places like Nara, Osaka, Kibi, or even up in Izumo.  However, to students of the era they are still very cool to see as monuments of that ancient time.  One example of this that we visited was the Niso-kofungun, or the Niso Kofun group.  The Niso Kofungun is not like what you might expect in the Nara basin or the Osaka area.  First, you drive out to the end of the road in a small fishing community, and from there go on a small hike to see the kofun themselves.  Today the mounds are mostly hidden from view by trees, though there are signs put up to mark each one.  Some of them have a more well defined shape than others, too, with at least one demonstrating what appears to be a long, thin keyhole shape, taking advantage of the local terrain.  Most of these were pit style burials, where slabs of local sedimentary rock were used to form rectangular coffins in the ground, in which the individuals were presumably buried.  On one of the keyhole shaped mounds there was also what appears to be a secondary burial at the neck of the keyhole, where the round and trapezoidal sections meet.  However, we don't know who or even what was buried there in some instances, as most of the bones are no longer extant. Besides the distinctively keyhole shaped tomb, two more kofun in the Niso group caught my attention.  One, which is thought to have been a round tomb, had what appeared to be a small stone chamber, perhaps the last of the kofun in this group to be built, as that is generally a feature of later period kofun.  There was also one that was higher up on the hill, which may also have been a keyhole shaped tomb.  That one struck me, as it would likely have been particularly visible from sea before the current overgrown forest  appeared.  There are also plenty of other kofun to go searching for, though some might be a little more impressive than others.  In the next episode, when we talk about the island of Iki, we'll explore that ancient kingdom's much larger collection of kofun. After the mention of Tsushima in the Weizhi in the third century, there is a later story, from about the 6th century, involving Tsushima in the transmission of Buddhism.  This story isn't in the Nihon Shoki and was actually written down much later, so take that as you will.  According to this account, the Baekje envoys who transmitted the first Buddha image to Japan stopped for a while on Tsushima before proceeding on to the Yamato court.  While they were there, the monks who were looking after the image built a small building in which to conduct their daily rituals, effectively building the first Buddhist place of worship in the archipelago.  A temple was later said to have been built on that spot, and in the mid-15th century it was named Bairinji. While the narrative is highly suspect, there is some evidence that the area around Bairinji was indeed an important point on the island.  Prior to the digging of the two channels to connect the east and west coasts, the area near Bairinji, known as Kofunakoshi, or the small boat portage, was the narrowest part of Tsushima, right near the middle, where Aso Bay and Mitsuura Bay almost meet.  We know that at least in the 9th century this is where envoys would disembark  from one ship which had brought them from the archipelago, and embark onto another which would take them to the continent, and vice versa. Likewise, their goods would be carried across the narrow strip of land. This was like a natural barrier and an ideal location for an official checkpoint, and in later years Bairinji temple served as this administrative point, providing the necessary paperwork for crews coming to and from Japan, including the various Joseon dynasty missions in the Edo period. Why this system of portage and changing ships, instead of just sailing around?  Such a system was practical for several reasons.  For one, it was relatively easy to find Tsushima from the mainland.  Experienced ships could sail there, transfer cargo to ships experienced with the archipelago and the Seto Inland Sea, and then return swiftly to Korea.  Furthermore, this system gave Yamato and Japan forewarning, particularly of incoming diplomatic missions.  No chance mistaking ships for an invasion or pirates of some kind, as word could be sent ahead and everything could be arranged in preparation for the incoming mission.  These are details that are often frustratingly left out of many of the early accounts, but there must have been some logistics to take care of things like this. Whether or not Bairinji's history actually goes back to 538, it does have claim to some rather ancient artifacts, including a 9th century Buddha image from the Unified, or Later, Silla period as well as 579 chapters of the Dai Hannya Haramitta Kyo, or the Greater Perfection of Wisdom Sutra, from a 14th century copy.  These were actually stolen from the temple in 2014, but later recovered.  Other statues were stolen two years previously from other temples on Tsushima, which speaks to some of the tensions that still exist between Korea and Japan.  Claims were made that the statues had originally been stolen by Japanese pirates, or wakou, from Korea and brought to Japan, so the modern-day thieves were simply righting an old wrong.  However, Korean courts eventually found that the items should be returned to Japan, though there were those who disagreed with the ruling.  This is an example of the ongoing tensions that can sometimes make study of inter-strait history a bit complex. More concrete than the possible location of a theoretical early worship structure are the earthworks of Kaneda fortress.  This is a mid-7th century fort, created by Yamato to defend itself from a presumed continental invasion.  We even have mention of it in the Nihon Shoki.  It appears to have been repaired in the late 7th century, and then continued to be used until some time in the 8th century, when it was abandoned, seeing as how the invasion had never materialized, and no doubt maintaining the defenses on top of a mountain all the way out on Tsushima would have been a costly endeavor. Over time the name “Kaneda” was forgotten, though the stone and earthworks on the mountain gave the site the name “Shiroyama”, or Castle Mountain, at least by the 15th century.  In the Edo period, scholars set out trying to find the Kaneda fortress mentioned in the Nihon Shoki, and at one point identified this with an area known as Kanedahara, or Kaneda Fields, in the modern Sasu district, on the southwest coast of Tsushima.  However, a scholar named Suyama Don'ou identified the current mountaintop site, which has generally been accepted as accurate.  The earthworks do appear to show the kind of Baekje-style fortifications that Yamato built at this time, which took advantage of the natural features of the terrain.  These fortresses, or castles, were more like fortified positions—long walls that could give troops a secure place to entrench themselves.  They would not have had the impressive donjon, or tenshukaku, that is the most notable feature of of later Japanese and even European castles. Most of the Baekje style castles in Japan are primarily earthworks—for example the Demon's castle in modern Okayama.  Kaneda is unique, though, with about 2.8 kilometers of stone walls, most of which are reportedly in quite good condition.  There were three main gates and remains of various buildings have been determined from post-holes uncovered on the site.  There is a name for the top of the mountain, Houtateguma, suggesting that there may have once been some kind of beacon tower placed there with a light that could presumably be used to signal to others, but no remains have been found. The defensive nature of the position is also attested to in modern times.  During the early 20th century, the Japanese military placed batteries on the fortress, and an auxiliary fort nearby.  These constructions damaged some of the ancient walls, but this still demonstrates Tsushima's place at the edge of Japan and the continent, even into modern times. For all that it is impressive, I have to say that we regrettably did not make it to the fortress, as it is a hike to see everything, and our time was limited.  If you do go, be prepared for some trekking, as this really is a fortress on a mountain, and you need to park and take the Kaneda fortress trail up.   Moving on from the 8th century, we have evidence of Tsushima in written records throughout the next several centuries, but there isn't a lot clearly remaining on the island from that period—at least not extant buildings.  In the records we can see that there were clearly things going on, and quite often it wasn't great for the island.  For instance, there was the Toi Invasion in the 11th century, when pirates—possibly Tungusic speaking Jurchen from the area of Manchuria—invaded without warning, killing and taking people away as slaves.  It was horrific, but relatively short-lived, as it seems that the invaders weren't intent on staying. Perhaps a more lasting impression was made by the invasions of the Mongols in the 13th century.  This is an event that has been hugely impactful on Japan and Japanese history.  The first invasion in 1274, the Mongols used their vassal state of Goryeo to build a fleet of ships and attempted to cross the strait to invade Japan.  The typical narrative talks about how they came ashore at Hakata Bay, in modern Fukuoka, and the Kamakura government called up soldiers from across the country to their defense.  Not only that, but monks and priests prayed for divine intervention to protect Japan.  According to the most common narrative, a kamikaze, or divine wind, arose in the form of a typhoon that blew into Hakata Bay and sank much of the Mongol fleet. That event would have ripple effects throughout Japanese society.  On the one hand, the Mongols brought new weapons in the form of explosives, and we see changes in the arms of the samurai as their swords got noticeably beefier, presumably to do better against similarly armored foes.  The government also fortified Hakata Bay, which saw another attack in 1281, which similarly failed. Though neither attempted invasion succeeded, both were extremely costly.  Samurai who fought for their country expected to get rewarded afterwards, and not just with high praise.  Typically when samurai fought they would be richly rewarded by their lord with gifts taken from the losing side, to include land and property.  In the case of the Mongols, however, there was no land or property to give out.  This left the Kamakura government in a bit of a pickle, and the discontent fomented by lack of payment is often cited as one of the key contributors to bringing down the Kamakura government and leading to the start of the Muromachi period in the 14th century. The invasions didn't just appear at Hakata though.  In 1274,  after the Mongol fleet first left Goryeo on the Korean Peninsula, they landed first at Tsushima and then Iki, following the traditional trade routes and killing and pillaging as they went.  In Tsushima, the Mongol armies arrived in the south, landing at Komoda beach near Sasuura.  Lookouts saw them coming and the So clan hastily gathered up a defense, but it was no use.  The Mongol army established a beachhead and proceeded to spend the next week securing the island. From there they moved on to Iki, the next island in the chain, and on our journey.  Countless men and women were killed or taken prisoner, and when the Mongols retreated after the storm, they brought numerous prisoners back with them.  Although the Mongols had been defeated, they were not finished with their plans to annex Japan into their growing empire.  They launched another invasion in 1281, this time with reinforcements drawn from the area of the Yangtze river, where they had defeated the ethnic Han Song dynasty two years prior.  Again, they landed at Tsushima, but met fierce resistance—the government had been preparing for this fight ever since the last one.  Unfortunately, Tsushima again fell under Mongol control, but not without putting up a fight.  When the Mongols were again defeated, they left the island once again, this time never to return. If you want to read up more on the events of the Mongol Invasion, I would recommend Dr. Thomas Conlan's book, “No Need for Divine Intervention”.  It goes into much more detail than I can here. These traumatic events have been seared into the memories of Tsushima and the nearby island of Iki. Even though both islands have long since rebuilt, memories of the invasion are embedded in the landscape of both islands, and it is easy to find associated historical sites or even take a dedicated tour.   In 2020, the events of the invasion of Tsushima were fictionalized into a game that you may have heard of called Ghost of Tsushima.  I won't get into a review of the game—I haven't played it myself—but many of the locations in the game were drawn on actual locations in Tsushima.  Most, like Kaneda Castle, are fictionalized to a large extent, but it did bring awareness to the island, and attracted a large fan base.  Indeed, when we picked up our rental car, the helpful staff offered us a map with Ghost of Tsushima game locations in case we wanted to see them for ourselves. As I noted, many of the places mentioned in the game are highly fictionalized, as are many of the individuals and groups—after all, the goal is to play through and actually defeat the enemies, and just getting slaughtered by Mongols and waiting for them to leave wouldn't exactly make for great gameplay.  Shrines offer “charms” to the user and so finding and visiting all of the shrines in the in-game world becomes a player goal. And so when fans of the game learned that the torii gate of Watatsumi Shrine, one of the real-life iconic shrines in Tsushima, was destroyed by a typhoon in September of 2020, about a month after the game was released, they came to its aid and raised over 27 million yen to help restore the torii gates.  A tremendous outpouring from the community. And while you cannot visit all of the locations in the game, you can visit Watazumi Shrine, with its restored torii gates that extend into the water. Watatsumi Shrine itself has some interesting, if somewhat confusing, history.  It is one of two shrines on Tsushima that claim to be the shrine listed in the 10th-century Engi Shiki as “Watatsumi Shrine”.  This is believed to have been the shrine to the God of the Sea, whose palace Hiko Hoho-demi traveled down to in order to find his brother's fishhook—a story noted in the Nihon Shoki and which we covered in episode 23.  Notwithstanding that most of that story claims it was happening on the eastern side of Kyushu, there is a local belief that Tsushima is actually the place where that story originated. The popular shrine that had its torii repaired is popularly known as Watatsumi Shrine, today.  The other one is known as Kaijin  Shrine, literally translating to the Shrine of the Sea God, and it is also known as Tsushima no kuni no Ichinomiya; That is to say the first, or primary, shrine of Tsushima.  Some of the confusion may come as it appears that Kaijin shrine was, indeed, the more important of the two for some time.  It was known as the main Hachiman shrine in Tsushima, and may have been connected with a local temple as well.  It carries important historical records that help to chart some of the powerful families of Tsushima, and also claims ownership of an ancient Buddhist image from Silla that was later stolen.  In the 19th century it was identified as the Watatsumi Shrine mentioned in the Engi Shiki, and made Toyotama Hime and Hikohohodemi the primary deities worshipped at the shrine, replacing the previous worship of Hachiman. Shrines and temples can be fascinating to study, but can also be somewhat tricky to understand, historically.  Given their religious nature, the founding stories of such institutions can sometimes be rather fantastical, and since they typically aren't written down until much later, it is hard to tell what part of the story is original and what part has been influenced by later stories, like those in the Nihon Shoki or the Kojiki. Another interesting example of a somewhat unclear history is that of the Buddhist temple, Kokubun-ji.  Kokubunji are provincial temples, originally set up inthe decree of 741 that had them erected across the archipelago, one in each province at the time, in an attempt to protect the country from harm,  Knowing the location of a Kokubunji can therefore often tell you something about where the Nara era provincial administration sat, as it would likely have been nearby.  In many cases, these were probably connected to the local elite, as well. This is not quite as simple with Tsushima Kokubun-ji.  While it was originally designated in the decree of 741,  a later decree in 745 stated that the expenses for these temples would come directly out of tax revenues in the provinces, and at that time Tsushima was excluded.  Moreover, the Kokubunji on nearby Iki island was funded by taxes from Hizen province.  So it isn't until 855 that we have clear evidence of an early provincial temple for Tsushima, in this case known as a Tobunji, or Island Temple, rather than a Kokubunji. The location of that early temple is unknown, and it burned down only two years later when Tsushima was attacked by forces from Kyushu.   It is unclear what happened to it in the following centures, but by the 14th or 15th century it was apparently situated in Izuhara town, near the site of what would become Kaneishi Castle.  It was later rebuilt in its current location, on the other side of Izuhara town.  It burned down in the Edo period—all except the gate, which was built in 1807.  This gate is at least locally famous for its age and history.  It was also the site of the guesthouses for the 1811 diplomatic mission from Joseon—the dynasty that followed Koryeo. Those missions are another rather famous part of the history of Tsushima, which, as we've seen, has long been a gateway between the archipelago and the peninsula.  In the Edo period, there were numerous diplomatic missions from the Joseon dynasty to the Tokugawa shogunate, and these grand affairs are often touted in the history of Tsushima, with many locations specifically calling out the island's deep involvement in cross-strait relations.  Relations which, to really understand, we need to probably start with a look at the famous (or perhaps even infamous) Sou clan. The Sou clan became particularly influential in Tsushima in the 13th century.  The local officials, the Abiru clan, who had long been in charge of the island, were declared to be in rebellion against the Dazaifu, and so Koremune Shigehisa was sent to quell them.  In return, he was made Jito, or land steward, under the Shoni clan, who were the Shugo of Chikuzen and Hizen, including the island of Tsushima.  The Sou clan, descendents of the Koremune, ruled Tsushima ever since, first as vassals of the Shoni , but eventually they ran things outright. Thus, Sou Sukekuni was in charge when the Mongols invaded in 1274.  Despite having only 80 or so mounted warriors under his charge, he attempted to defend the island, dying in battle.  Nonetheless, when the Mongols retreated, the Sou family retained their position.  Later, they supported the Ashikaga in their bid to become shogun, and were eventually named the Shugo of Tsushima, a title they kept until the Meiji period. As we've mentioned, despite its size, Tsushima is not the most hospitable of locations.  It is mountainous, with many bays and inlets, making both cross-land travel and agriculture relatively difficult.  And thus the Sou clan came to rely on trade with the continent for their wealth and support.  Although, “trade” might be a bit negotiable. Remember how the early Japanese regularly raided the coast of the peninsula?  It was frequent enough that a term arose—the Wakou, the Japanese invaders, or Japanese pirates.  In fact, the term “wakou” became so synonymous with piracy that almost any pirate group could be labeled as “wakou”, whether Japanese or not.  Some of them that we know about were downright cosmopolitan, with very diverse crews from a variety of different cultures. Given its position, the rough terrain, and myriad bays that could easily hide ships and other such things, Tsushima made a great base for fishermen-slash-pirates to launch from.  Particularly in harsh times, desperate individuals from Tsushima and other islands might take their chances to go and raid the mainland.  In the early 15th century, the new Joseon dynasty had had enough.  They sent an expeditionary force to Tsushima to put an end to the wakou. The expedition came in 1419.  The year before, the head of the Sou clan, Sou Sadashige, had died.  His son, Sou Sadamori, took his place, but had not yet come of age, leaving actual power in the hands of Souda Saemontarou, leader of the Wakou pirates. Eventually the Joseon forces were defeated by the forces of Tsushima, including the wakou.  The Joseon court considered sending another punitive expedition, but it never materialized.  What did eventually happen, though, was, oddly, closer ties between the peninsula and Tsushima.  Sou Sadamori, who grew up in that tumultuous time, worked to repair relationships with the Joseon court, concluding a treaty that that allowed the Sou clan to basically monopolize trade with the Korean peninsula.  Treaty ports on the peninsula began to attract permanent settlements of Japanese merchants, and these “wakan”, or Japanese districts, came nominally under the jurisdiction of the Sou of Tsushima. The Sou clan maintained their place as the intermediaries with the Joseon state through the 16th century.  Messages sent from the Japanese court to Joseon would be sent to the Sou, who would deliver them to the Joseon court, and in turn handle all replies from the peninsula back to the Japanese mainland.  And this over time led them to develop some, shall we say, special techniques to make sure these exchanges were as fruitful as possible.  You see, the treaties with the Joseon court only allowed fifty ships a year from Tsushima to trade with the peninsula.  But since all of the documents flowed through the Sou, they had plenty of time to study the seals of both courts—those of the Joseon kingdom and those of Japan – and have fake seals created for their own ends.  In part through the use of these fake seals, the Sou clan were able to pretend their ships were coming from other people—real or fake—and thus get around the 50 ship per year limit.  They also used them in other ways to try and maintain their position between the two countries. All of this came to a head when the Taikou, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, began to dream of continental conquest.  Hideyoshi, at this point the undeniable ruler of all of Japan, had a bit of an ego—not exactly undeserved, mind you.  His letter to the Joseon king Seongjo, demanding submission, was quite inflammatory, and the Sou clan realized immediately that it would be taken as an insult.  Not only could it jeopardize relations with the continent, it could also jeopardize their own unique status.  Which is why they decided to modify it using what in modern computer hacker terms might be called a man-in-the-middle attack – which, with their fake seal game, they had plenty of experience with. The Sou were able to modify the language in each missive to make the language more acceptable to either side.  They also dragged their feet in the whole matter, delaying things for at least two years   But Hideyoshi's mind was set on conquest.  Specifically, he had ambitions of displacing the Ming dynasty itself, and he demanded that the Joseon court submit and allow the Japanese forces through to face the Ming dynasty.  The Joseon refused to grant his request, and eventually Hideyoshi had enough.  He threatened an invasion of Korea if the Joseon dynasty didn't capitulate to his requests. Throughout this process, the Sou attempted to smooth things over as best they could.  However, even they couldn't forge the words presented by a face-to-face envoy, nor could they put off Hideyoshi's anger forever.  And thus Tsushima became one of the launching off points for the Japanese invasions of Korea in 1592 and again in 1597.  Tsushima, along with nearby Iki, would have various castles built to help supply the invading forces.  One such castle was the Shimizuyama-jo, overlooking the town of Izuhara.  Some of the walls and earthworks can still be seen up on the mountain overlooking the town, and  there are trails up from the site of Kaneishi castle, down below.  Both of these invasions ultimately failed, though not without a huge loss of life and destruction on the peninsula—a loss that is still felt, even today. The second and final invasion ended in 1598.  Both sides were exhausted and the Japanese were losing ground, but the true catalyst, unbeknownst to those on the continent, was the death of Hideyoshi.  The Council of Regents, a group of five daimyo appointed to rule until Hideyoshi's son, Hideyori, came of age kept Hideyoshi's death a secret to maintain morale until they could withdraw from the continent. With the war over, the Sou clan took the lead in peace negotiations with the Joseon court, partly in an attempt to reestablish their position and their trade.  In 1607, after Tokugawa had established himself and his family as the new shogunal line, the Sou continued to fake documents to the Joseon court, and then to fake documents right back to the newly established bakufu so that their previous forgeries wouldn't be uncovered.  This got them in a tight spot.  In the early 1600s, one Yanagawa Shigeoki had a grudge to settle with Sou Yoshinari, and so he went and told the Bakufu about the diplomatic forgeries that the Sou had committed, going back years.  Yoshinari was summoned to Edo, where he was made to answer the allegations by Shigeoki.  Sure enough, it was proven that the Sou had, indeed, been forging seals and letters, but after examination, Tokugawa Iemitsu, the third Tokugawa Shogun, decided that they had not caused any great harm—in fact, some of their meddling had actually helped, since they knew the diplomatic situation with the Joseon court better than just about anyone else, and they clearly were incentivized to see positive relations between Japan and Korea.  As such, despite the fact that he was right, Yanagawa Shigeoki was exiled, while the Sou clan was given a slap on the wrist and allowed to continue operating as the intermediaries with the Joseon court. There was one caveat, however:  The Sou clan would no longer be unsupervised.  Educated monks from the most prestigious Zen temples in Kyoto, accredited as experts in diplomacy, would be dispatched to Tsushima to oversee the creation of diplomatic documents and other such matters, bringing the Sou clan's forgeries to a halt. Despite that, the Sou clan continued to facilitate relations with the peninsula, including some twelve diplomatic missions from Korea: the Joseon Tsuushinshi.  The first was in 1607, to Tokugawa Hidetada, and these were lavish affairs, even more elaborate than the annual daimyo pilgrimages for the sankin-kotai, or alternate attendance at Edo.  The embassies brought almost 500 people, including acrobats and other forms of entertainment.  Combined with their foreign dress and styles, it was a real event for people whenever they went. Today, these Tsuushinshi are a big draw for Korean tourists, and just about anywhere you go—though especially around Izuhara town—you will find signs in Japanese, Korean, and English about locations specifically associated with these missions. And in years past, they've even reenacted some of the processions and ceremonies. Speaking of Izuhara, this was the castle town from which the Sou administered Tsushima.  Banshoin temple was the Sou family temple, and contains the graves of many members of the Sou family.  In 1528, the Sou built a fortified residence in front of Banshoin, and eventually that grew into the castle from which they ruled Tsushima.  Today, only the garden and some of the stone walls remain.  The yagura atop the main gate has been rebuilt, but mostly it is in ruins.  The Tsushima Museum sits on the site as well.  Nearby there is also a special museum specifically dedicated to the Tsuushinshi missions. Izuhara town itself is an interesting place.  Much of what you see harkens back to the Edo period.  Much like Edo itself, the densely packed wood and paper houses were a constant fire hazard, and there were several times where the entire town burned to the ground.  As such they began to institute firebreaks in the form of stone walls which were placed around the town to help prevent fire from too quickly spreading from one house to the next.  This is something that was instituted elsewhere, including Edo, but I've never seen so many extant firewalls before, and pretty soon after you start looking for them, you will see them everywhere. The area closest to the harbor was an area mostly for merchants and similar working class people, and even today this can be seen in some of the older buildings and property layouts.  There are also a fair number of izakaya and various other establishments in the area.  Further inland you can find the old samurai district, across from the Hachiman shrine.  The houses and the gates in that area are just a little bit nicer.  While many modern buildings have gone up in the town, you can still find traces of the older buildings back from the days of the Sou clan and the Korean envoys. Today, Izuhara is perhaps the largest town on Tsushima, but that isn't saying much—the population of the entire island is around 31,000 people, only slightly larger than that of nearby Iki, which is only about one fifth the size of Tsushuma in land area.  From Izuhara, you can catch a ferry to Iki or all the way to Hakata, in Fukuoka.  You can also always take a plane as well. Before leaving Tsushima, I'd like to mention one more thing—the leopard cat of Tsushima, the Yamaneko.  This has become something of a symbol in Tsushima, but unfortunately it is critically endangered, at least on the island itself.  It is all but gone from the southern part of Tsushima—human encroachment on its habitat has been part of the issue, but so has the introduction of domesticated cats.  The yamaneko itself is about the size of a typical housecat, and might be mistaken for one, though it has a very distinctive spotted appearance.  Domesticated cats have been shown to outcompete their wild cousins, while also passing on harmful diseases, which also affect the population.  Just about everywhere you go you'll see signs and evidence of this special cat. There is also a breeding program in the north if you want to see them for yourself. Even the small Tsushima Airport is named Yamaneko Airport, and the single baggage claim features a whole diorama of little plush leopard cats wearing traditional clothing and waving hello to new arrivals. If you like rugged coastlines, fascinating scenery, and the odd bit of history thrown in, might I suggest taking a look at Tsushima, the border island between Japan and Korea. We only had a few days, but it was a truly wonderful experience.  Next up we caught the ferry to Iki island, the site of the ancient Iki-koku, possibly represented by the Yayoi era Harunotsuji site.  Of all the places I've been so far, this is second only to Yoshinogari in the work and reconstruction they've done.  They've even discovered what they believe to be an ancient dock or boat launch.  But we'll cover that next week, as we continue on our self-guided Gishiwajinden tour. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to us at our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

An account of our recent tour of the sites mentioned in the Gishiwajinden, which is to say the Japanese portion of the Weizhi.  This episode we talk about our visit to Gimhae, site of ancient Geumgwan Gaya. For more see our podcast blog:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcasts/episode-geumgwangaya Rough Transcript   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Gishiwajinden Self-Guided Tour: Geumgwan Gaya. For the next several episodes we are taking a bit of a detour from the narrative of the Chronicles.  After all, with the coup of 645 that we covered a couple of episodes ago, we are about to dive into the period known as “Taika” or “Great Change”.  Prince Naka no Oe and Nakatomi no Kamako were not just assassins—they had plans that went beyond just cutting the head off the powerful Soga house.  It's an eventful time, with a lot of changes, though some of those would take time to really come to fruition and before I get into all of that there is a bit more research that I want to do to figure out the best way to lay that out for you.  And so I figured we would take a little detour for a few episodes, to share with you a special trip that Ellen and I recently took, reproducing – in a modern way – some of the earliest accounts we have about crossing over to the archipelago: the Gishiwajinden, the Japanese section of the Weizhi.  We talked about this chronicle back in episode 11: it describes all the places one would stop when leaving the continent, from kingdoms on the peninsula and across the smaller islands of the archipelago before landing in what we currently call Kyushu. And Ellen and I did just that: we sailed across the Korean straits, from the site of the ancient kingdom of Gaya in modern Gimhae, to the islands of Tsushima and Iki, then on to modern Karatsu and Fukuoka, passing through what is thought to be the ancient lands of Matsuro, Ito, and Na.  It was an incredibly rewarding journey, and includes plenty of archaeological sites spanning the Yayoi to Kofun periods—as well as other sites of historical interest.  It also gets you out to some areas of Japan and Korea that aren't always on people's list, but probably should be.  So for this first episode about our “Gishiwajinden Jido Toua” – our Gishiwajinden Self-Guided Tour – we'll talk about the historical sites in Gimhae, the site of ancient Geumgwan Gaya, but also some of the more modern considerations for visiting, especially on your own. By the way, a big thank you to one of our listeners, Chad, who helped inspire this trip.  He was living on Iki for a time and it really made me think about what's out there. This episode I'll be focusing on the first place our journey took us, Gimhae, South Korea.  Gimhae is a city on the outskirts of modern Pusan, and home to Pusan's international airport, which was quite convenient.  This is thought to be the seat of the ancient kingdom of Gaya, also known as “Kara” in the old records.  In the Weizhi we are told of a “Guyahan”, often assumed to be “Gaya Han”, which is to say the Han—one of the countries of the peninsula—known as Guya or Gaya.  This is assumed to mean Gaya, aka Kara or Garak, and at that time it wasn't so much a kingdom as it was a confederation of multiple polities that shared a similar material culture and locations around the Nakdong river.  This is the area that we believe was also referenced as “Byeonhan” in some of the earliest discussions of the Korean peninsula. By the way, while I generally believe this area was referred to as “Kara”, “Gara”, or even “Garak”, originally, the modern Korean reading of the characters used is “Gaya”, and since that is what someone will be looking for, that's what I'll go with. History of the Korean peninsula often talks about the “Three Kingdoms” period, referencing the kingdoms of Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo.  However, that is a very simplistic view of the ancient history of the archipelago.  Numerous small polities existed without a clear, persistent overlord outside of those three larger polities, and even they were not always quite as grand as the later histories would like to make them out to be. Gaya is often referred to as the “Gaya Confederacy” by modern historians, at least for most of its existence, and refers to a number of polities including Daegaya, Ara, etc., and may also include “Nimna”, though where exactly that was is a topic of great debate, with some claiming that it was just another name for what later was known as Geumgwan Gaya, and other suggestions that it was its own polity, elsewhere on the coast.  This isn't helped by the nationalist Japanese view that “Nimna” was also the “Mimana Nihonfu”, or the Mimana controlled by Japan, noted in the Nihon Shoki, and used as the pretext for so many of the aggressions perpetrated on the continent by Japan. These all appear to have been individual polities, like small city-states, which were otherwise joined by a common culture. Although the Samguk Yusa mentions “King Suro” coming in 42 CE, for most of its history there wasn't really a single Gaya state as far as we can tell.  It is possible that towards the 5th and early 6th centuries, Geumgwan Gaya had reached a certain level of social complexity and stratification that it would classify as a “kingdom”, but these definitions are the kinds of things that social scientists would argue about endlessly. Evidence for a “Kingdom” comes in part from the way that Geumgwan Gaya is referenced in the Samguk Sagi and other histories, particularly in how its ruling elite is referred to as the royal ancestors of the Gimhae Kim clan.  Proponents also point to the elaborate graves, a large palace site (currently under excavation and renovation), the rich grave goods found in the tombs thought to be those of the royal elites, etc.  Other scholars are not so sure, however, and even if there was a nominal kingdom, it likely did not last very long before coming under the rule of Silla in the 6th century. Unlike the other kingdoms—Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo; the “Samguk”, or three countries, of the “Samguk Sagi”—Gaya does not have its own record in the histories.  The Samguk Yusa, which is of interest but also problematic in that it was clearly more about telling the miraculous tales of Buddhism than a strictly factual history, does have a bit about Gaya.  The author of the Samguk Yusa, the monk  Ilyeon, claimed that the information there was pulled from a no longer extant record called the Gayakgukki, or Record of the Gaya Kingdom, but the actual stories are not enough to tell us everything that happened.  Most of what we know comes from members of the Gaya Confederacy popping up in the records of other nations, including Baekje, Silla, Goguryeo, and Yamato.  For example, there are references in the Gwangaetto Stele from the 5th century, as well as plenty of references in the Nihon Shoki and the records in the Samguk Sagi.  This is a little bit better than some of the other groups mentioned as being on the Korean peninsula that are often referred to only one time before being completely forgotten. For us, the importance of Gaya is its links with Yamato.  Although it would seem that Nimna, in particular, had close ties with Yamato it is noteworthy that the Japanese word for the continent and things that would come from there—including the later Tang dynasty—is “Kara”.  “Kara-fu” generally refers to something that comes from China, but only because those things originally came through the peninsula and through Kara, or Gaya.  The port on Kyushu where the goods likely arrived before continuing up to modern Fukuoka is even today known as “Karatsu”, or “Kara Port”.  This lends credence to the idea that Nimna was likely at least a member of the Gaya confederacy. There are also deep similarities in many material items found in the peninsula and in the area of the Nakdong peninsula, including pottery, armor, horse gear, etc.  At the very least this indicates a close trading relationship, and combined with the account in the Weizhi, emphasizes the idea that this was likely the jumping off point for missions to the archipelago and vice versa. Perhaps more controversial is the idea that at least some members of the Gaya Confederacy, or the Byeonhan cultural group before it, may have been speakers of some kind of proto-Japonic.  There are also some that suggest there may have been ethnic Wa on the peninsula at an early point as well.  However, I would note that the Weizhi refers to this area specifically as being part of the “Han”, and that it was the jumping off point to find the lands of the Wa and eventually the lands of Yamato (or Yamatai), so make of that what you will.  All of this is well after the introduction of rice cultivation in Japan, focusing on the 3rd century onward, roughly corresponding to what we think of as the Kofun Period in Japan, and which was also a period of ancient mound-building on the Korean peninsula as well. All that aside, it is clear that Gaya was an important part of the makeup of the early Korean peninsula, and that much of that history is on display in modern Gimhae. Gimhae is one of plenty of places on the Korean peninsula for anyone with an interest in ancient history.  Besides the various museums, like the National Museum in Seoul, there are sites like Gyeongju, the home of the tombs of the Silla kings and the ancient Silla capital, and much more. Gimhae itself is home to the Royal Gaya Tombs, as well as archaeological remnants of an ancient settlement that was probably at least one of the early Gaya polities.  As I noted, Gimhae is more accurately the site of what is known in later historical entries as Geumgwan Gaya.  The earliest record of the Weizhi just says something like “Gü-lja-han” which likely means “Gaya Han”, or Gaya of Korea, referring at the time to the three Han of Mahan, Jinhan, and Byeonhan.  That may or may not have referred to this particular place, as there are other Gaya sites along the coast and in the upper reaches of the Nakdong river.  However, given its placement on the shore, the site at Gimhae seems to have a good claim to be the point mentioned in the Wei Chronicles, which is why we also chose it as the first site on our journey. The characters for “Gimhae” translate into something like “Gold Sea”, but it seems to go back to the old name:  Geumgwan, as in Geumgwan Gaya.  It is part of the old Silla capital region.  “Geum” uses the same character as “Kim”, meaning “Gold” or “Metal”.  This is also used in the popular name “Kim”, which is used by several different lineage groups even today.  The “Sea” or “Ocean” character may refer to Gimhae's position near the ocean, though I don't know how relevant that was when the name “Gimhae” came into common usage. The museums and attractions around Gimhae largely focus on the royal tombs of the Geumgwan Gaya kingdom, which in 2023 were placed, along with seven other Gaya tomb sites, on the UNESCO list of world heritage sites.  Since they're so newly added, we did not see the kind of omnipresent UNESCO branding that we are used to seeing elsewhere, such as Nikko Toshogu or Angkor Wat, but taxi drivers certainly knew the UNESCO site and museum. For anyone interested in these tombs and in Gaya's early history, there are two museums you likely want to visit.  First off is the National Museum, which covers a wide swath of history, with tons of artifacts, well laid out to take you through the history of the Gaya Confederacy, from early pre-history times through at least the 7th century.  There is also a separate museum that specifically covers the Daeseong-dong tombs, which lay upon a prominent ridge on the western side of the city, north of a Gaya era settlement with a huge shell midden found at Bonghwang-dong, to the south, nearby an ongoing excavation of a potential palace site. These museums have some excellent displays, including pottery, metalwork, horse gear, armor, and even parts of an ancient boat.  As I noted earlier, these show a lot of similarity to items across the strait in the archipelago, though it is clear that Gaya had a lot more iron than their neighbors —in fact, they had so much that they would often line the bottom of tombs with iron ingots.  The displays emphasize that Gaya was really seen as a kind of ironworking center for the region, both the peninsula and the archipelago. The tombs, likewise, have some similarity to those in the archipelago—though not in the distinctive, keyhole shape.  Early tombs, from the 1st to 2nd century, were simply wooden coffins dug in a pit with a mound on top.  This became a wooden lined pit, where bodies and grave goods could be laid out, and then, in the 3rd century, they added subordinate pits just for the various grave goods.  In the 5th century this transitioned to stone-lined pit burial, and in the 6th century they changed to the horizontal entry style stone chamber tomb, before they finally stopped building them.  These seem to be similar to what we see in Silla, with wooden chamber tombs giving way to the horizontal entry style around the 5th and 6th centuries.  Meanwhile, Baekje and Goguryeo appear to have had horizontal style tombs for some time, and that may have been linked to Han dynasty style tombs in the area of the old Han commanderies—which I suspect might have spread with the old families of Han scribes and officials that were absorbed into various polities.  It is interesting to see both the similarities and differences between Gaya and Wa tombs in this period, particularly the transition to the horizontal entry style tombs, which I suspect indicates an outside cultural influence, like that of Silla—something that would also influence the burials in the archipelago.  At first, in the 4th to 5th centuries, we just see these style tombs starting to show up in Kyushu, particularly in the area of modern Fukuoka—one of the areas that we will hit at the end of this journey from the peninsula to the archipelago.  That may be from contact with Baekje or Goguryeo, or even from some other point, it is hard to tell.  By the 6th century, though, just as Silla and Gaya were doing, it seems that all of the archipelago was on board with this style of internal tomb structure. Another tomb style you can find in Gimhae is the dolmen.  These are megalithic—or giant rock—structures where typically a roof stone is held up by two or more other large stones.  In some cases these may have been meant as an above-ground monument, much like a structure such as Stonehenge.  On the other hand, in some cases they are the remains of a mound, where the mound itself has worn away.  Unfortunately, there was not as much information on them—it seems that dolmens were originally used before the mounded tomb period, but just what was a free-standing dolmen and what was an internal mound structure exposed by the elements I'm not sure I could say. If you visit the Daeseong-dong tombs, one of the things you may notice is the apparent lack of a tomb mound.  The attached museum explains much of this, though, in that over time the wooden pit-style tombs would often collapse in on themselves.  That, plus erosion and continued human activity in an area would often mean that, without upkeep, there would eventually be no mound left, especially if it wasn't particularly tall to start with. In an example where something like this might have happened, there is at least one tomb in the group that was clearly dug down into a previous burial chamber.  The excavators must have realized they were digging into another tomb, given that they would have pulled up numerous artifacts based on what was later found at the site, but they still carried on with the new tomb, apparently not having any concern for the previous one.  After all, there was only so much room up on the ridge for burials, at least towards the later periods.  This pair of “interlocking” tombs is housed inside a building with a viewing gallery, so you can see their layout and how the grave goods would have been arranged in period. One tomb that apparently kept a mound of some kind would appear to be that attributed to King Suro.  King Suro is the legendary founder of Geumgwan Gaya, mentioned in the 13th century Samguk Yusa, which was using an older record of the Gaya Kingdom as their source.  The area where the tomb is found is said to match up with the description in the Samguk Yusa, but I could find no definitive evidence of a previous tomb or what style it was—let alone the question of whether or not it was the tomb of King Suro of Geumgwan Gaya.  It was still a very impressive compound, though it seems most of the buildings are likely from a much more recent era. I suspect that King Suro remained an important story for the Gimhae Kim clan.  That clan, as mentioned earlier, claimed descent from the Kings of Geumgwan Gaya, of whom King Suro was supposedly the first. It is noteworthy that the Kim family of Geumgwan Gaya, known as the Gimhae Kim clan, was granted a high rank in Silla because they claimed descent from the “Kings” of Geumgwan Gaya.  As such Munmyeong, the sister of Kim Yusin, the general who helped Silla take over the peninsula, was apparently considered an appropriate consort to King Muyeol, and her son would become King Munmu.  This brought the Gimhae Kim clan into the Gyeongju Kim clan of Silla. Kim Busik, who put together the Samguk Sagi, was a member of the Gyeongju Kim clan, which claimed descent from those same kings.  He had plenty of reason to make sure that the Silla Kings looked good, and may have also had reason to prop up the leaders of Geumgwan Gaya as well, given the familial connections.  That said, there do seem to be some impressive tombs with rich grave goods, so there is that. In 1580 we are told that Governor Kim Heo-su, who counted himself a descendant of the Gimhae Kim clan, found the tomb of King Suro and repaired it, building a stone altar, a stone platform, and a tomb mound.  It is unclear from what I can find, though, just what he “found” and how it was identified with what was in the Samguk Yusa.  Even if there was something there, how had *that* been identified?  There seems to be plenty of speculation that this is not the actual resting place of the legendary king, Kim Suro, but it is certainly the place where he is worshipped.  The tomb was apparently expanded upon in later centuries, and today it is quite the facility, though much of it seems relatively recent, and hard to connect with the actual past. More important for that is probably what was found at Bonghwang-dong.  On this ridge, south of the tomb ridge, were found traces of buildings including pit style dwellings along with post-holes, indicating raised structures of some sort.  Today you can go and see interpreted reconstructions, based in part on some pottery models that had also been found from around that period.  Reconstructed buildings sit on either side of a hill, which is the main feature of a modern park.  It is a good place to get a sense of what was around that area, and you can hike to the top of the hill, which isn't that difficult a journey.  The trees do obstruct the view, somewhat, but you get a great sense for what a community there might have been like.  As I mentioned before, there is also a large excavation being carried out on what is believed to be some kind of royal palace structure, but unfortunately we likely won't know much more until later. Also next to the settlement is a giant shell mound.  We are talking over a football field long and several stories high of shells and bone, along with discarded pottery and other such things.  Unfortunately, for whatever reason, the contents of the shell mound appear to have been mixed at various stages, but it is still impressive, and they have an excellent display where you can see the mound cut away to demonstrate what a shell mound might look like. The shell mound apparently existed from the 1st to the 4th centuries.  This feels odd to me, given that I normally think of shell mounds as more connected to Jomon and similar sites, but it also makes sense that a community—particularly one with easy access to the sea—would have a lot of shells and it isn't like they had trash collectors coming to take away their garbage. Which brings me to another point:  Back in its heyday, Geumgwan Gaya was clearly on or very near the sea.  In modern times you can certainly see islands off the coast from the tops of some of these hills—and from the top of a mountain one might even make out Tsushima on a clear day.  However, today that ocean is several miles out. Back in the time of the Geumgwan Gaya, however, things were likely different.  The Nakdong river would have emptied out to the east into a large bay, with Geumgwan Gaya sitting comfortably at its head, with mountains on three sides and the ocean on the fourth.  This would have made it a great as a port town, as it not only had access to the Korean straits and the Pacific Ocean, but it also sat at the head of the river that connected many of the sites believed to be related to the ancient Gaya confederacy. Over time, however, the bay silted up, and/or sea levels dropped, and the area that would become the heart of modern Gimhae would find itself farther and farther away from the ocean, through no fault of their own.  That must have put a damper on their trade relationships, and I can't help but wonder if that was one of the reasons they eventually gave in to Silla and joined them. With its place at the head of the Nakdong river, Silla's control of Geumgwan Gaya likely made the rest of the Gaya polities' absorption much more likely, as most of the Gaya polities appear to have been laid out around the Nakdong river.  That would have been their lifeline to the ocean and maritime trade routes.  Without a cohesive state, they may not have been able to resist the more organized and coordinated armies of groups like Silla and Baekje, eventually falling under Silla's domain. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be much online in English about Gimhae beyond the ancient connection to Geumgwan Gaya.  Specifically, I didn't find a lot of clear historical information about the city after coming under Silla rule.  It was apparently one of the “capitals” of the Silla region under Later or Unified Silla.  Though Silla tried to form the people of the three Han of Baekje, Goguryeo, and Silla into a unified state, its central authority would eventually break down.  Baekje and Goguryeo would be briefly reconstituted before the Later Goguryeo throne was usurped by a man who would be known as Taejo, from Gaesong.  He would lead the first fully successful unification effort, and from the 10th century until the 14th the state was known as “Goryeo”, from which we get the modern name of “Korea”.  Goryeo started in Gaesong, but also rebuilt the ancient Goguryeo capital at Pyongyang, both up in what is today North Korea.  It eventually came under the thumb of the Mongol Yuan dynasty, and when that dynasty was overthrown by the Ming, Goryeo experienced its own instability, resulting in the Joseon dynasty, which moved the capital to the area of modern Seoul.  Given modern tensions between North and South Korea, I suspect that there is a fair bit of politics still wrapped up in the historiography of these periods, especially with each modern state having as their capitals one of the ancient capital city sites. As for Gimhae, I have very little information about the city during the Goryeo period.  Towards the end of the 14th century, we do see signs of possible conflict, though: There was a fortress built on the nearby hill, called Bunsanseong, in about 1377, though some claim that an older structure was there since the time of the old Gaya kingdom, which would make sense, strategically.  This fortress was severely damaged during Hideyoshi's invasion of Korea in the late 16th century—a not uncommon theme for many historical sites on the peninsula, unfortunately—and repaired in 1871.  The walls can still be seen from the city below. Stone walls were placed around the city in 1434 and improved in 1451.  Excavations on the wall were carried out in 2006 and the north gate, which was first renovated in 1666, was restored in 2008.   You can still visit it, north of the international markets, which includes a wet market along with various restaurants offering specialties from around Northeast Asia, including places like Harbin, in China. Near the north gate there is also a Confucian school, or hyanggyo.  The first iteration was probably built during the Goryeo dynasty, but whatever was there in the 16th century was also destroyed during Hideyoshi's invasion.  It would later be rebuilt in 1688 and relocated to the east until it burned down in 1769.  The following year it was rebuilt in its current location, north of the city gate.  The school contains examples of the classrooms along with a central Confucian shrine, and there are some similarities with similar Edo period institutions in Japan, which also based themselves off of a Confucian model. For those interested in more recent history, you may want to check out the Gimhae Folk Life Museum.  This covers some of the more recent folk traditions, clothing, and tools and home goods used up until quite recent times.  It may not be as focused on the ancient history of the area, but it certainly provides some insight into the recent history of the people of Gimhae. Today, Gimhae is a bustling city.  Not quite as big and bustling as Pusan or Seoul, but still quite modern.  You can easily get there by train from Busan or Gimhae International Airport, and there are plenty of options to stay around the city such that you can walk to many of the historical sites. For those used to traveling in Japan, there are both similarities and differences.  Alongside the ubiquitous Seven Eleven chains are the CU chain, formerly known as FamilyMart, and GS25, along with a few others.  Trains are fairly easy to navigate if you know where you want to go, as well – there's a convenient metro line that connects the airport to Gimhae city proper, and has stops right by the museums.  The KTX, the Korean Train eXpress, the high-speed rail, includes a line from Seoul to Busan.  And don't worry, from our experience there are no zombies on the train to- or from- Busan. Of course, in Korea they use Hangul, the phonetic Korean alphabet.  It may look like kanji to those not familiar with the language but it is entirely phonetic.  Modern Korean rarely uses kanji—or hanja, as they call it—though you may see some signs in Japanese or Chinese that will use it here and there.  In general, though, expect things to be in Korean, and there may or may not be English signs.  However, most of the historical sites we visited had decent enough signage that we only occasionally had to pull out the phone for translation assistance, and the museums are quite modern and have translation apps readily available with QR codes you can scan to get an English interpretation. Speaking of phones, make sure that you have one that will work in Korea or consider getting a SIM card when you get in, as you will likely want it for multiple reasons.  That said, a lot of things that travelers rely on won't work in Korea unless you have the Korean version.  For instance, Google Maps will show you where things are but it can't typically navigate beyond walking and public transit directions.  For something more you'll want the Korean app, Naver.  We did okay, for the most part, on Google Maps, but Naver is specifically designed for South Korea. Likewise, hailing a cab can be a bit of a chore.  Don't expect your Uber or Lyft apps to work—you'll need to get a Korean taxi app if you want to call a taxi or you'll need to do it the old fashioned way—call someone up on the telephone or hail one on the streets, which can be a tricky business depending on where you are. On the topic of streets: In Gimhae, many of the streets we were walking on did not have sidewalks, so be prepared to walk along the side of the road.   We didn't have much trouble, but we were very conscious of the traffic. Another note in Gimhae is the food.  Korea is host to a wide variety of foods, and Gimhae can have many options, depending on what you are looking for.  Near our hotel there were traditional Korean restaurants as well as places advertising pizza, Thai, and burgers.  Up in the main market area, you can find a wide variety of food from around Asia.  Vietnam, Sri Lanka, Uzbekistan, Nepal, and many more were represented, as well as Russian and Chinese cuisines. That said, our breakfast options were not so bountiful.  Our hotel, which gave us our own private hot tub, like a private onsen, did not serve breakfast, but there were a few cafes around where you could get a drink and a light meal in the morning,  and there were some pork Gukbab places, where you would put cooked rice in a pork bone broth for a hearty and delicious morning meal.  That said, if you waited a little later, there is a Krispy Kreme for those craving donuts, and a few French-inspired Korean bakeries, such as the chain, Tous les Jours, which is always a tasty go-to spot. If you prefer a wider variety of food you can choose to stay in Busan proper, instead.  It isn't that far, and you can take the train over to Gimhae in the morning.  However, I would recommend at least two days to see most of the Gaya related sites, and maybe a third or fourth if you want to chase down everything in the city. There is also an interesting amusement park that we did not get the chance to experience but may be of interest:  the Gimhae Gaya Theme Park.  This appears to be a series of interpretations of different Gaya buildings along with a theme park for kids and adults, including rope bridges, light shows, and some cultural performances.  It looked like it might be fun, but since we had limited time we decided to give it a pass this time around. In Busan, there are many other things to do, including museums, folk villages, and an aquarium along the beach.  Busan station is also conveniently located next to the cruise port, where ships depart daily for Japan.  This includes typical cruise ships, as well as various ferries.  For instance, there is a ferry to Hakata, in Fukuoka city, as well as an overnight ferry that takes you through the Seto Inland sea all the way to Osaka.  For us, however, we had booked the jetfoil to Hitakatsu, on the northern tip of Tsushima island – a very modern version of the Gishiwajinden account of setting sail in a rickety ship. Unfortunately, as we were preparing for our journey, disaster struck—the kind of thing that no doubt befell many who would dare the crossing across the waters.  Strong winds out in the strait were making the water choppy, and it was so bad that they decided to cancel all of the ferries for that day and the next.  It made me think of the old days, when ships would wait at dock as experienced seamen kept their eye on the weather, trying to predict when it would be fair enough to safely make the crossing.  This was not always an accurate prediction, though, since on the open ocean, squalls can blow up suddenly.  In some cases people might wait months to make the crossing. Since we didn't have months, and had a lot to see in Tsushuma, we opted for another, very modern route: we booked airplane tickets and left from Gimhae airport to Fukuoka, where we transitioned to a local prop plane for Tsushima.  You might say: why not just fly to Tsushima? But Tsushima doesn't have an international airport, and only serves Japanese domestic destinations. Hence the detour to Fukuoka, where we went through Japanese immigration and had a very nice lunch while we waited for our second, short flight. Even that was almost cancelled due to the winds at Tsushima, with a disclaimer that the plane might have to turn around if the weather was too bad.  Fortunately, we were able to make it, though coming into Tsushima airport was more than a little hair-raising as the small plane came in over the water and cliffs and dodged some pretty substantial updrafts before touching down on a tiny airstrip. And with that, we made our crossing to Tsushima island.  Or perhaps it is better to call them “islands” now, since several channels have been dug separating the north and south parts of Tsushima.  It wasn't quite how we had planned to get there, but we made it – and that kind of adaptability is very much in keeping with how you had to travel in the old days! One more comment here about the Korean Peninsula and Tsushima:  while we never had a day clear enough, it seems obvious that from a high enough vantage point in Gimhae or Gaya, one could see Tsushima on a clear day.  This is something I had speculated, but as we traveled it became clear.  Tsushima is actually closer to the Korean Peninsula than to Kyushu, a fact that they point out.  And so it was likely visible enough to people who knew what they were looking for. And yet, I imagine being on a small boat, trying to make the journey, it must have been something.  You hopefully had a good navigator, because if you went off in the wrong direction you could end up in the East Sea—known in Japan as the Japan Sea—or worse.    If you kept going you would probably eventually reach the Japanese archipelago, but who knows what might have happened in the meantime.  It is little wonder that ships for the longest time decided to use Tsushima and Iki as stepping stones between the archipelago and the continent. And with that, I think we'll leave it.  From Gimhae and Pusan, we traveled across to Tsushima, which has long been the first point of entry into the archipelago from the continent, often living a kind of dual life on the border.  Tsushima has gotten famous recently for the “Ghost of Tsushima” video game, set on the island during the Mongol Invasion – we haven't played it, but we understand a lot of the landscape was reproduced pretty faithfully. From there we (and the ancient chroniclers) sailed to Iki.  While smaller than Tsushuma, Iki was likely much more hospitable to the Yayoi style of rice farming, and the Harunotsuji site is pretty remarkable. Modern Karatsu, the next stop, is literally the Kara Port, indicating that the area has deep connections to the continent.  It is also the site of some of the oldest rice paddies found on the archipelago, as well as its own fascinating place in later history.  Continuing north along the coast of Kyushu is another area with evidence of ancient Yayoi and Kofun communities in Itoshima, thought to be the ancient country of Ito.  Here you can find some burial mounds, as well as the site where archaeologists found one of the largest bronze mirrors of the ancient archipelago.  Finally, we ended up in Fukuoka, where the seal of the King of Na of Wa was found. We ended our trip in Fukuoka, but the historical trail from Na, or Fukuoka, to quote-unquote “Yamatai” then goes a bit hazy.  As we discussed in an earlier episode, there are different theories about where Yamatai actually was.  There is the Kyushu theory, which suggests that Yamatai is somewhere on Kyushu, with many trying to point to the Yayoi period site of Yoshinogari, though there are plenty of reasons why that particular site is not exactly a good candidate.  Then there are various paths taking you to Honshu, and on to Yamato.  Those are much more controversial, but the path to at least Na seems mostly agreed on, especially since that was largely the path that individuals would follow for centuries onwards, including missions to and from the Tang dynasty, the Mongols during their attempted invasion, and even the various missions from the Joseon dynasty during the Edo period.  Today, modern transportation, such as the airplane, means that most people just go directly to their destination, but there are still plenty of reasons to visit these locations.  It was a lot of fun to sail from place to place and see the next island – or kingdom – emerging on the horizon. Next episode we will talk about Tsushima and give you an idea of what that island has in store for visitors; especially those with an interest in Japanese history. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

Temujin was the real name of Genghiz Khan! Ordu or Urdu? Are Mongols and Mughals same? How Allauddin Khilji saved India from Mongol invasion? Everything about Mongol and Indian relation is covered here! listen rate share connect; indiaunveiledpodcast@gmail.com instagram: @indiaunveiled.podcast @me.rakeshh --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/rakeshsoni/message

At the height of the Mongol Empire, Kublai Khan set his sights on the island of Japan. He launched two enormous invasions of that nation in 1274 and 1281 - but both of them were defeated, aided by sudden and disastrous storms that tore his fleets apart. The story of these kamikaze, or 'Divine Winds', would become legend in Japan, and inspire the name of the Japanese pilots that launched attacks on Allied forces in the closing months of World War Two.For the third and final episode in our series on the kamikaze, Dan is joined again by Christopher Harding, a cultural historian of India and Japan and author of 'The Light of Asia'. They talk about these gigantic invasions, the samurai that faced them, and the storms that turned the tide in favour of feudal Japan.Produced by James Hickmann and edited by Anisha Deva.Enjoy unlimited access to award-winning original documentaries that are released weekly and AD-FREE podcasts. Get a subscription for £1 per month for 3 months with code DANSNOW sign up at https://historyhit/subscription/We'd love to hear from you- what do you want to hear an episode on? You can email the podcast at ds.hh@historyhit.com.You can take part in our listener survey here.

Cottonee and WhimsicottChat about cotton, wool, mythical vegetable sheep, the Mongol Invasion of Japan and Andy being pedantic about how my girlfriend has to dry her hair. This episode has it all!Get in touch!twitter: https://twitter.com/LukeLovesPKMNfacebook: https://facebook.com/LukeLovesPKMNCheck out other podcasts I make:Hyrule Field Report https://hyrulefieldreport.transistor.fm/Films and Filth. https://filmsandfilth.transistor.fm/Game Game Show. https://gamegameshow.transistor.fm/Support the show!https://patreon.com/PodcastioPodcastius ★ Support this podcast on Patreon ★

Our guest today is Nicholas Morton. Nicholas is an associate professor at Nottingham Trent University. He is the author or editor of nine books, including The Field of Blood and several other books about the Crusades and medieval Europe and the Near East. His latest book is The Mongol Storm: Making and Breaking Empires in the Medieval Near East. The book tells the story of how the Mongol Empire upended the geopolitics of the Near East, reshaping the balance of world power and transforming the region forever.   Welcome to RPS, Nic!

Nicholas Morton, associate professor of history at Nottingham Trent University and author of The Mongol Storm: Making and Breaking Empires in the Medieval Near East, joins the show to talk about the Mongol invasions. ▪️ Times      •    01:40 Introduction      •    02:15 Central Asia before the Mongols     •    04:15 Mongol methods     •    09:15 Sailing the Eurasian Steppe     •   13:54 Temujin     •    18:38 A dearth of sources     •    21:50 Khwarazmian Empire     •    26:40 The Mongol secret     •   32:03 Selective savagery      •    36:30 The Near East     •    40:15 Mamluks    •    42:03 Mongol rule     •    45:17 Lasting effects

Major military efforts were taken by Kublai Khan of the Yuan dynasty in 1274 and 1281 to conquer the Japanese archipelago after the submission of the Korean kingdom of Goryeo to vassalhood. Ultimately a failure, the invasion attempts are of massive importance because they set a limit on Mongol expansion and rank as nation-defining events in the history of Japan. Check out our sister podcast the Mystery of Everything Coffee Collab With The Lore Lodge COFFEE Travel to Peru with me here Travel to Italy With Me here Bonus episodes as well as ad-free episodes on Patreon. Find us on Instagram. Join us on Discord. Submit your relatives on our website Podcast Youtube Channel Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Brandon, Luke, and Owen talk about how the Mongols attempted to invade Japan by sea!

Discover Krakow's dramatic transformation from devastation to grandeur after the Mongol invasion of 1241. Join us as we delve into the secrets buried beneath its cobbled streets witness the rise, struggles, and innovative solutions of a medieval city grappling with waste management. Uncover how the echoes of the past resonate through its architecture and ground levels, offering a unique perspective on the evolution of a European gem. Walk through history and realize that what lies beneath your feet is more than meets the eye. And if you are intrigued about Central Asia, Samosas and Hospitality, check out the episodes on Uzbekistan Beauty of Uzbekistan and the Geometry Box: https://omny.fm/shows/postcards-from-nowhere-with-utsav-mamoria/beauty-of-uzbekistan-the-geometry-boxMelons of Samarkand: https://omny.fm/shows/postcards-from-nowhere-with-utsav-mamoria/melons-of-samarkand Vincent Van Gogh and Uzbekistan: https://podcasts.adorilabs.com/show/e?eid=I03d1slNCXMla8VCSecrets of Doors: https://podcasts.adorilabs.com/show/e?eid=InTTDLzqdrZWSvf5 Train Journeys and Humanity: Part 1: https://podcasts.adorilabs.com/show/e?eid=I2xUGZmKqpNnFmKl Train Journeys and Humanity: Part 2: https://podcasts.adorilabs.com/show/e?eid=I2fOFK5K0YFNLT3F World's most popular snack: https://podcasts.adorilabs.com/show/e?eid=ImYiIkxnf8vNTFNn For reflections on walking, check out Walking: An Act of Resistance: https://podcasts.adorilabs.com/show/e?eid=IlhRj0aYOdW8A8Pu You can reach out to our host Utsav on Instagram: @‌whywetravel42(https://www.instagram.com/whywetravel42  ) Do follow IVM Podcasts on social media. We are @IVMPodcasts on Facebook, Twitter, & Instagram.  Do share the word with your folks!    See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In the late 13th century, the Mongol Empire was at the peak of its power.  It was at this time that the Mongol Emperor of China, Kubli Khan, set his eyes on the island of Japan.  On two separate occasions, the Mongols assembled the world's largest amphibious fleet in world history. Both times, they found the limits of their military conquests. Learn more about the Mongol invasions of Japan on this episode of Everything Everywhere Daily. Sponsors Expedition Unknown  Find out the truth behind popular, bizarre legends. Expedition Unknown, a podcast from Discovery, chronicles the adventures of Josh Gates as he investigates unsolved iconic stories across the globe. With direct audio from the hit TV show, you'll hear Gates explore stories like the disappearance of Amelia Earhart in the South Pacific and the location of Captain Morgan's treasure in Panama. These authentic, roughshod journeys help Gates separate fact from fiction and learn the truth behind these compelling stories.   InsideTracker provides a personal health analysis and data-driven wellness guide to help you add years to your life—and life to your years. Choose a plan that best fits your needs to get your comprehensive biomarker analysis, customized Action Plan, and customer-exclusive healthspan resources. For a limited time, Everything Everywhere Daily listeners can get 20% off InsideTracker's new Ultimate Plan. Visit InsideTracker.com/eed. Subscribe to the podcast!  https://link.chtbl.com/EverythingEverywhere?sid=ShowNotes -------------------------------- Executive Producer: Charles Daniel Associate Producers: Peter Bennett & Thor Thomsen   Become a supporter on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/everythingeverywhere Update your podcast app at newpodcastapps.com Discord Server: https://discord.gg/UkRUJFh Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/everythingeverywhere/ Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/everythingeverywheredaily Twitter: https://twitter.com/everywheretrip Website: https://everything-everywhere.com/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Episode 27 - Erik teams up once again with the legendary Kory Torjussen (The World Is My Burrito) to talk about some Samurai lore! After conquering most of China and the Korean peninsula, Kublai Khan (the grandson of Genghis), set his sights on a small group of islands off the coast, assuming it would be a quick victory. The Mongol Invasions of Japan (of 1274 and 1281) would forever change the fates of both cultures... it would also go down in legend as one of the greatest epic fails in history - for both sides! Click here to check out Erik's original Epik Fails article! Also on this episode: Epik Wins of History: Nakano Takeko *and* Yasuke The Bracket of Fails: Alexander the Great vs Qin Shi Huang (the First Emperor of China) / Genghis Khan vs Napoleon Audio / Music Clips: "Ghost of Tsushima" (2020 - PS4/PS5), "Marco Polo" (2014, Netflix Series), "Mortal Kombat 11" (2019 - PS4, Xbox One, Switch) Outro Music / Segment Jingles by DeftStroke Sound! Listen to “A Brief History of the Samurai” by Jonathan Clements on Audible (click here for a free trial)! Follow / Message Us on Social Media: E-mail: ErikSlader@gmail.com Twitter: @ErikSlader @EpikFailsdotcom Instagram: @ErikSlader @EpikFailsofHistory All 4 EPIC FAILS books are now available on Amazon! (Get a free audio book on Audible at http://www.audibletrial.com/EpikFails) You can also support me here: BuyMeACoffee.com/EpikFails! This podcast is a production of the We Can Make This Work (Probably) Network follow us to keep up with this show and discover our many other podcasts - including: 2 Young 4 This Trek, Comic Zombie, and Podcasters Assemble! --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

Khubah

After several threatening letters, the Yuan Dynasty would finally send two punitive expeditions to Japan, first in 1274 and then in 1281.Support the show

Join Asher and Luxa, siblings extraordinaire, as they explore the legendary Genghis Khan and the rise of the Mongol Empire. (I apologize for some audio issues). Sources: Genghis Khan his Life and Legacy by Paul Ratchnevsky, The Secret History of the Mongol Empire, Chronicles of Rashid al-Din. Check us out on Instagram @adhochistory for maps and artwork to accompany the episodes. Please feel free to contact me as well!

The two Mongol-Yuan invasions of Japan (1274 and 1281) were important events in Japanese history. The two typhoons that destroyed the Mongol fleet, known as "divine wind," (shinpū 神風, better known today as kamikaze) would forever be etched into Japanese historical memory, directly influencing the so-called kamikaze suicide bombers of World War II. Most scholarship on the topic has focused primarily on the military aspect, but before and after the invasions there was also an intense diplomatic effort behind the scenes involving the Mongol-Yuan, Kamakura Japan, and Koryŏ Korea in an attempt to integrate Japan peacefully into the Mongol world order. In this episode, Greg speaks to USC PhD candidate Lina Nie about her dissertation research on this diplomatic effort. Lina will share with us some new perspectives on why the Mongols wanted to engage and ultimately invade Japan, what the diplomatic negotiations can tell us about the interstate order of East Asia during that time, and how her research both complements existing scholarship and adds a new layer in our understanding of the Mongol invasions of Japan. Contributors Lina Nie Lina Nie is a Ph.D. candidate in the Department of History at the University of Southern California. She graduated from the Hong Kong University with double majors in Chinese History and Japanese Studies and received her MA from Harvard University. Her research interests are on maritime, diplomatic, military, and cultural exchanges among China, Korea, and Japan. She is also interested in global history and comparative history in a broader geographical context that goes beyond East Asia. Her Japanese article discussing the traditions of Japanese culture won the second runner-up in the annual essay contest held by the Japanese Consulate General in New England in 2017. Greg Sattler Gregory Sattler is a Ph.D. student in the Department of History at the University of California, Los Angeles. His research focuses on sea merchants in East Asia from the ninth to thirteenth centuries, with a particular consideration of their place in society, their trade networks, and their relationships with government officials. Gregory has recently published an article titled “The Ideological Underpinnings of Private Trade in East Asia, ca. 800–1127” (Journal of Asian Humanities at Kyushu University 6) and he is currently working on two additional manuscripts. He has received degrees in Taiwan and Japan, and is a proficient speaker of both Chinese and Japanese. Credits Episode no. 10 Release date: April 3, 2022 Recording location: Los Angeles, CA Transcript Bibliography courtesy of Lina Nie Images Cover Image: The famous battle scene depicting the samurai Takezaki Suenaga escaping the Mongol forces. (Image Source) Map of the two Mongol invasions. (Image Source) A 1266 letter Khubilai sent to Japan. (Image Source) Japanese samurai boarding a Yuan ship during the 1281 invasion. (Image Source) References Andrade, Tonio. The Gunpowder Age: China, Military Innovation, and the Rise of the West in World History. New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 2016. Conlan, Thomas. In Little Need of Divine Intervention: Takezaki Suenaga's Scrolls of the Mongol Invasions of Japan. Ithaca: Cornell University, 2001.  Fukuokashi maizō bunka zai 福岡市埋蔵文化財年報. Ed. Fukuokaken Kyoiku Iinkai福岡県教育委員会, vol. 274, 2019. Kamakura ibun鎌倉遺文. Ed. Takeuchi Rizō竹内理三. Tokyo: Tōkyōdō Shuppan, 2008. Cambridge History of Japan: Medieval Japan (vol. 3), eds. John Hall, Marius Jansen, Madoka Kanai, and Denis Twitchett. Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1990. Kim Gu 金坵. Chipojip 止浦集. Han'guk munjip ch'onggan 韓國文集叢刊. Seoul: Minjok Munhwa Ch'ujinhoe, 1991. Kuraki kaitei iseki hakkutsu chōsa gaihō 倉木崎海底遺跡発掘調査概報. Ed. Ukenson Kyoiku Iinkai宇検村教育委員会. 1993. Mass, Jeffery. Yoritomo and the Founding of the Kamakura Bakufu. Stanford: Stanford University Press 1995. Robinson, David. Empire's Twilight: Northeast Asia Under the Mongols. Cambridge, MA: Harvard Yenching Monograph, 2009. Cambridge History of China vol.6: Alien Regimes and Border States, eds. Herbert Franke and Denis Twitchett. Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1994. Rossabi, Morris. Khubilai Khan: His Life and Times. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2009. Shultz, Edward. Generals and Scholars: Military Rule in Medieval Korea. Honolulu: University of Hwaii Press. 2000. Wang, Sixiang. “What Tang Taizong Could Not Do: The Korean Surrender of 1259 and the Imperial Tradition.” T'oung Pao (2018), pp.338-383. Yamauchi Shinji 山内晋次. Nichisō bōeki to iō no michi 日宋貿易と「硫黄の道」.Tokyo: Yamakawa Shuppansha, 2009. 

With the Russian Ukraine War raging, I became curious to understand the religious relationship between these two countries. I dug up issue 18 of Christian History Magazine which was dedicated to the Russian Orthodox Church. In it I found several articles that shed light on the history of these two countries and the religion that they share. So, what happened after the historic baptism at Kiev in 988? Ukraine basically became the first Christian nation in the region. But after the Mongol Invasion of the 13th Century, Moscow became preeminent. Find out more about the history of the Ukraine Russian conflict in this episode.

In 1231, Mongol forces invaded the Korean Peninsula, beginning almost three decades of warfare against the Koryŏ Kingdom. In 1258, the Koryŏ court finally surrendered and the kingdom became a part of the Mongol Empire. King Kwong Wong, an independent scholar who specializes in the relationship between the Mongol-Yuan and Koryŏ, joins us to give a brief look into this fascinating period in Korean history. He will talk about why Koryŏ surrendered to the Mongol-Yuan, how the Mongols integrated Koryŏ into their empire, what that relationship came to look like, and how Koryŏ dealt with the fall of the Mongols in the second half of the fourteenth century. Contributors: King Kwong Wong King Kwong Wong is an independent scholar who received his Master's Degree in Chinese History from the University of Southern California. He is now working as a part-time lecturer at the Hong Kong University's School of Professional and Continuing Education. His research focuses on Koryŏ Korea during the Mongol-Yuan period, and he recently published a paper titled "All Are the Ruler's Domain, but All Are Different: Mongol-Yuan Rule and Koryŏ Sovereignty in the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries", which explores how Koryŏ literati viewed the idea of sovereignty and their state's relationship with the Mongol-Yuan. Yiming Ha Yiming Ha is a Ph.D. candidate in the Department of History at the University of California, Los Angeles. His current research is on military mobilization and state-building in China between the thirteenth and seventeenth centuries, focusing on how military institutions changed over time, how the state responded to these changes, the disconnect between the center and localities, and the broader implications that the military had on the state. His project highlights in particular the role of the Mongol Yuan in introducing an alternative form of military mobilization that radically transformed the Chinese state. He is also interested in military history, nomadic history, comparative Eurasian state-building, and the history of maritime interactions in early modern East Asia. He received his BA from UCLA and his MPhil from the Hong Kong University of Science and Technology. Credits: Episode No. 3 Release date: November 27, 2021 Recording location: Hong Kong, China/Los Angeles, CA Transcript Bibliography courtesy of King Kwong Images Cover Image: Koryŏ noblemen hunting (see full image credits below) Kanghwa Island, where the Koryŏ court fled to in order to escape from the Mongols (Image Source) Painting of Koryŏ noblemen hunting (also titled Crossing the River on Horseback) by Yi Je-hyeon (李齊賢, 1287-1367), currently held in the National Museum of Korea and reproduced here with permission (Image Source) Painting on the Grand Hunting in the Heavenly Mountain by King Kongmin, currently held in the National Museum of Korea and reproduced here with permission (Image Source) Empress Chabi (1225-1281) wearing a gugu hat. The hat is also known as a boghtagh (Image Source). Select Bibliography: Clark, Donald N. “Sino-Korean Tributary Relations under the Ming.” In The Cambridge History of China, vol. 8: The Ming Dynasty, 1368–1644, Part II, edited by Denis Twitchett and Frederick W. Mote, 272-300. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Duncan, John B. The Origins of the Chosŏn Dynasty. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2000. Henthorn, William E. Korea: the Mongol Invasions. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1963. Kim Hodong. Monggol cheguk kwa Koryŏ: K'ubillai chŏngkwŏn ŭi t'ansaeng kwa Koryŏ ŭi chŏngch'ijŏk wisang [The Mongol Empire and Koryŏ: The Rise of Khubilai and the Political Status of Koryŏ]. Seoul: Sŏul taehakkyo ch'ulpanbu, 2007 Lee, Ik-joo. “Trends and Prospects: Historical Studies on Koryŏ-Mongol Relationship in the 13–14th Centuries.” The Review of Korean Studies 19, no. 2 (2016): 15–46. Lee, Jin-han. “The Development of Diplomatic Relations and Trade with Ming in the Last Years of the Koryŏ Dynasty.” International Journal of Korean History 10 (2006): 1-24. Lee, Kang Hahn. “Shifting Political, Legal, and Institutional Borderlines between Koryŏ and the Mongol Yuan Empire.” Seoul Journal of Korean Studies 29, no. 2 (2016): 239–266. Robinson, David M. Empire's Twilight: Northeast Asia under the Mongols. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 2009. Shultz, Edward J. Generals and Scholars: Military Rule in Medieval Korea. Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press, 2000. Yi Myŏngmi. 13–14-segi Koryŏ-Monggol kwan'gye yŏn'gu: Chŏngdong haengsŏng sŭngsang puma Koryŏ Kugwang, kŭ pokhapchŏk wisang e taehan t'amgu [A Study of Koryŏ-Mongol Relations in the Thirteenth to Fourteenth Centuries: An Exploration of the Complex statuses of the Chief Councilor of the Branch Secretariat for the Eastern Campaign, the Imperial Son-in-Law, and the King of Koryŏ]. Seoul: Hyean, 2016. Yun, Peter I. “Mongols and Western Asian in the Late Koryŏ Ruling Stratum.” International Journal of Korean History 3 (2002): 51-69.

The Mongols attempted to invade Japan on 5th November, 1274. Despite having a fleet of 900 ships, they failed - in part due to a ‘kamikaze' typhoon that whooshed their boats back to Korea.Then they tried again - and failed again.In this episode, Arion, Rebecca and Olly consider how a gunpowder-armed Army was defeated by the Samurai; reveal the brutal (yet unambiguous) response the Japanese gave to the Chinese diplomats who attempted to talk things through; and unearth the surprising connection between Kublai Khan and Lionel Blair…Further Reading:• ‘Kublai Khan - Biography, Death & Achievements' (HISTORY, 2009): https://www.history.com/topics/china/kublai-khan• Japan's Kamikaze Winds, the Stuff of Legend, May Have Been Real (National Geographic, 2014): https://www.nationalgeographic.com/science/article/141104-kamikaze-kublai-khan-winds-typhoon-japan-invasion• ‘Mongol Invasion of Japan: Maps, Animation and Timelines' (Past To Future, 2020): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpguP8emkYcFor bonus material and to support the show, visit Patreon.com/RetrospectorsWe'll be back on Monday! Follow us wherever you get your podcasts: podfollow.com/RetrospectorsThe Retrospectors are Olly Mann, Rebecca Messina & Arion McNicoll, with Matt Hill.Theme Music: Pass The Peas. Announcer: Bob Ravelli. Graphic Design: Terry Saunders. Edit Producer: Emma Corsham.Copyright: Rethink Audio / Olly Mann 2021.  See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

The Mongols are remembered as perhaps the greatest conquerors in world history. Great nations throughout Eurasia felt the wrath of Genghis Khan and his successors as they built the largest land empire in human history. In that light, the failed attempts of Kublai Khan to subdue Japan are a stark outlier, so much so that the two Mongol defeats are commonly just viewed as being the result of poor weather and nothing else. A closer look at the events of their invasions of Japan reveals a more complicated story, however — one of folly, overreach, and naturally, incompetence. Join us on “No One is Competent” as we look at the Mongol invasions of Japan of 1274 and 1281 AD.

Why did the Rus lose to the Mongols at the Kalka River? What lessons did they learn and what did the Mongols do next?  Twitter       HistoryRussia1 Website     https://www.historyofrussia.net  email          nordicworld@outlook.com

In this episode of Half-Arsed History, hear the tale of the Mongol Invasions of Japan, and the unlikely way in which the invasions ultimately failed.

Thomas was busy this week, so instead a surprise returning series. What story has samurai, gold, headshots, Mongols who can't swim and explosions? Only the first Mongol Invasion of Japan!  Which was presented to many for the first time in Sucker Punch's Ghost of Tsushima, the ultimate 13th century samurai-them-up. Your host Jon delves deep into the game and the past to see if he can make sense of either! Content warning  super nasty war stuff from 23:50-25:00Would you like to hear us talk about Japan some more? Find our podcast here:Spotify: https://tinyurl.com/G-GSpotItunes: https://tinyurl.com/Ge-GaituneTwitter: https://twitter.com/GGaijinsFacebook: https://tinyurl.com/y5kk5keyEmail: geeksandgaijins@gmail.com Jon: Instagram @thegaijinjon Twitter @gaijinjonTheme music for the series can be found here:https://imslp.org/wiki/Special:ReverseLookup/507871

That's right, guys. The moment you have been waiting for is here. We sat down to discuss the glorious game Ghost of Tsushima. A long and emotional story about one samurai who must gather the remaining forces of Tsushima Island to repel the Mongol Invasion during the 14th Century, there was plenty to discuss. Let us know what you guys thought of the game in the comments below, and let us know if there is anything that you want to hear next!

In the dusty flood plain, 100,000 men and many times that in horses surround the walls of Baghdad. Catapults lob stones relentlessly into the city walls, hauled from great distance. Here, towers collapse under the barrage; there, ladders bring Mongol and subject peoples onto the fortifications, seizing them from the disorganized and panicking garrison. Arrows, some bearing messages, bring both confusion and injury where they land. The mighty Tigris River, the city’s lifeblood, is now part of the trap; pontoon bridges, from them dangling nets embedded with iron hooks, rest both north and south of the city to catch those trying to flee. The final ‘Abbasid Caliph sits frightened and overwhelmed in his palace, as the grasp of Hulegu Khan closes around him. Today, we discuss the fall of Baghdad, 1258. But first, we’d like to remind you that for those of you who enjoy the podcast, your support would be highly appreciated and would help us keep going. We have a patreon available for monthly or even one-time donations or, if you aren’t able to support us financially, positive reviews on Apple Podcasts or other review sites really helps us out. And now, I’m your host David, and this is Kings and Generals: Ages of Conquest.   We left our previous episode off with Hulegu destroying the Nizari Ismaili state, better known at the Order of Assassins, who had controlled a series of fortresses across eastern and northern Iran. By the end of 1256, Hulegu had reduced them to but a few holdouts, and he could begin to look to his next target. Considered heretics of the worst variety by most Sunni Muslims, the Persian writer Juvaini, a member of Hulegu’s retinue, described his victory over the Nizaris in glowing terms, Hulegu as a sword of Islam carrying out God’s will. Juvaini presents Hulegu’s war as a more ‘civilized’ form of conquest compared to that of his grandfather, Chinggis Khan. Destruction was limited to Ismaili territories and the towns and fortresses that failed to submit, as opposed to the veritable tsunami of bloodshed Chinggis Khan wrought on the Khwarezmian empire over thirty years prior. What Hulegu was soon to do in Baghdad and to the titular head of Sunni Islam would not be so praised, and it is perhaps no coincidence that Juvaini’s own chronicle ends with the fall of the Ismailis. As Hulegu left Ismaili territory in the final month of 1256, his eye was drawn to the ‘Abbasid Caliph in Baghdad.   In Islam, the spiritual leader of the religion was whoever was considered the successor to the Prophet Muhammad. For Shi’a Muslims, this was the imam- for Nizari Ismailis, the Imam was the ruler of Alamut, who had just been put to death on Mongol orders. For the majority of Muslims, known as Sunnis, the head of their faith was the Caliph, literally meaning ‘successor.’The first four Caliphs to succeed the Prophet were the “Rightly Guided,” the Rashidun, whose legitimacy is generally unquestioned by most Muslims. The Rashidun were succeeded by the Umayyads, who greatly extended Muslim rule east and west, across North Africa into Spain and across Eastern Iran into Central Asia. In 750, the Umayyad Caliphs were overthrown in the ‘Abbasid revolution. Claiming descent from the Prophet’s uncle ‘Abbas, it was under the early ‘Abbasids that the Caliphal capital was moved from Damascus to the newly established Baghdad along the Tigris River. Never comparable to the power of the Umayyads at their height, from the 9th century onwards the still vast ‘Abbasid empire fragmented with threat from all directions: the Fatimids in Egypt, the Samanids, Buyids and Saffarids of Iran and finally from the steppes, the Great Seljuqs, all of which ground the ‘Abbasids down until their state hardly stretched past the walls of Baghdad. The weakening of the Seljuqs after Sultan Malik-Shah’s death in 1092 allowed the ‘Abbasids to gradually reclaim independence and some authority, even repulsing a Seljuq army attacking Baghdad in 1157. The long reigns of Caliph al-Nasir and al-Mustansir, from 1180 until 1242, saw the ‘Abbasids reclaim much of central and southern Iraq. A far cry from the sweeping power they had held in the 8th century, by the 13th century they still remained influential and held prestige. For 500 years they had been the heads of Islam, and had long cultivated an useful image as invioable and holy, above temporal affairs though they were more often than not mired in them.    For instance, in the late 12th century Caliph al-Nasir was in conflict with the Seljuqs who continued to rule in Iran. He allied with the rising power northeast of the Iranian Seljuqs, the Khwarezmian Empire. Once vassals of the Great Seljuqs, the Khwarezm-shahs now butted heads with them as they expanded southwards, and the reigning Khwarezm-Shah, Tekesh bin Il-Arslan, was happy to ally himself with the Caliph. In 1194 at Rayy, modern Tehran, Tekesh defeated and killed the last Seljuq Sultan in Iran, Toghrul III, ending the dynasty and sending the Sultan’s severed head to al-Nasir in Baghdad. Rather than provide freedom for the Caliphate, Tekesh now wanted to step into the place of Seljuqs. The Seljuqs’ territory in Iran was largely annexed by Tekesh Khwarezm-shah, who soon began making aggressive motions to the Caliph. Al-Nasir encouraged the Khwarezmians’ eastern neighbours, the Ghurids, in their war with Tekesh. Tekesh died in 1200, succeeded by his son Muhammad II as Khwarezm-shah who, through luck, timely assassinations and military victories, overcame the Ghurids, consolidated power over Iran and in 1217 tried to march on Baghdad itself. Muhammad’s march on Baghdad was halted by a vicious snowstorm as he crossed the Zagros mountains, forcing him back. Returning to the northeast of his empire, Muhammad would there make the poor decisions which led to the Mongol Invasion of Khwarezm, covered way back in episode 9 of this podcast.   Now, some authors of the period assert that Caliph al-Nasir actually invited Chinggis Khan to attack Muhammad of Khwarezm- when placed in the context of the Caliph switching to support whoever was on the eastern side of his current foe, there is definitely a logic to it. However, as we described in detail in episode 8 of the podcast, the cause of the Mongol invasion can be found in the foolery of Muhammad Khwarezm-shah alone. Had the Mongols come on the invitation of the Caliph, then surely they would have publicized that to justify the attack and sow further confusion among the Khwarezmians.    In fact, in 1221 when detachments of Jebe and Subutai’s army penetrated into northern Iraq, Caliph al-Nasir was hardly welcoming. Along with the rulers of northern Iraq’s most important cities, Muzaffar ad-Din of Irbil and Badr al-Din Lu’lu’, the de facto ruler of Mosul, the Caliph organized a short lived military coalition, which proved unnecessary as the Mongols soon withdrew. Evidently, the ‘Abbasids spread a rumour that their army was absolutely gargantuan, their power unassailable and heavenly protected, and the Mongols were hesitant to commit. Had they paid close attention in the following years, they might have called the Caliph’s bluff. In 1225 that favoured Khwarezmian rapscallion, Jalal al-Din Mingburnu, defeated a Caliphal army after the ‘Abbasids failed to provide him assistance. Jalal al-Din chased the survivors right to the suburbs of Baghdad, then went north, defeated an army from Irbil sent to assist the Caliph and captured Irbil’s ruler, Muzaffar ad-Din. Caliph al-Nasir, by then elderly, paralyzed and blind for three years, died soon after Jalal al-Din’s attack, and was succeeded by his son, az-Zahir, as the 35th Caliph… for nine months. On Caliph az-Zahir’s death in 1226, he was succeeded by his own son, al-Mustansir, the 36th and penultimate ‘Abbasid Caliph of Baghdad.    As Caliph, al-Mustanir continued to try to strengthen ‘Abbasid control in Iraq and expand the army, but Mongol rule steadily spread over the region. By the start of the 1230s, Chormaqun Noyan and his lieutenants brought the submission of most of Iran and cast Mongol authority over the Caucasus. For Caliph al-Mustansir, the Mongol empire was a vast crescent to his north and east, where it stretched seemingly indefinitely. By 1235, Mongol forces mainly under Chagatai Noyan, “the Lesser,” were probing northern Iraq and directly, but hesitantly, testing ‘Abbasid hegemony in the region. In June 1237, Chagatai Noyan captured Irbil in what is now Iraqi Kurdistan, though the Citadel held out and in August Caliphal forces relieved the city. In February of 1238, an attack was launched on Baghdad, and a panicked Caliph al-Mustansir sent messages to the remaining independent Muslim powers from the Jazira and Syria down to Egypt for aid. Only 2,000 troops from the Ayyubid Sultan of Egypt,  al-Kamil, reached Baghdad, and in June 1238 a caliphal army was defeated near the city. However, the defences of Baghdad itself remained formidable and the city stood defiant while the Mongols turned back from the walls, unprepared for both a long siege and or the fearsome Iraqi summer.  Possibly, the Mongols suffered some sort of reverse while attacking Baghdad; some sixty years later, when the Persian historian Wassaf [vassaf] visited Baghdad, he recorded a Mongol defeat outside the walls, though this goes unmentioned by the other sources.    While Baghdad remained independent, the Mongols continued to take cities in the region. Chormaqun’s successor Baiju brought the submission of the Seljuqs of Anatolia in 1243; in 1244, the Mongol general Yasa’ur rode into Syria, dislodging the remnants of Jalal al-Din’s Khwarezmians. The Ayyubids of Syria, the successors of the once mighty empire of Saladin Ayyubi, largely submitted over 1244-5, and even Antioch, one of the last of the Crusader Kingdoms, offered its submission.  In late 1245 another attack on Baghdad was launched but soon aborted. The new Caliph since 1242, al-Mustasim ibn al-Mustansir, was lucky the attack was called off, for he was rather rapidly running out of allies. It seem that the new Caliph managed to avoid further attacks with a token submission: the Franscisan Friar John de Plano Carpini, present at the coronation of Guyuk Khaan in 1246, noted ‘Abbasid envoys were present in Karakorum and believed they paid a regular tribute.    The 38th and final ‘Abbasid Caliph of Baghdad, al-Mustasim, was not the equal of his father or great-grandfather. While al-Nasir and al-Mustansir sought to strengthen the Caliphate, al-Mustasim was more interested in the luxury of Baghdad, and was nearly universally condemned for decadence. A great lover of music, he sponsored an entire neighbourhood in Baghdad to house musicians, including the most famous of the age, Saif al-Din Urmawi. A lover of pigeon racing, art, calligraphy and treasures, al-Mustasim was also indecisive and easily swayed by factions in his court, some of whom, such as the vizier, sought accomodation with the Mongols, while others urged to meet them in battle. As we will see shortly, the result was al-Mustasim vacillating in policy, wavering between antagonizing the Mongols and sending them gifts. Essentially, the worst sort of man to have in power when Hulegu marched on him with upwards of 100,000 men.    Neither was weak leadership the only problem. Corruption and decadence of Baghdad’s elite alienated the lower classes. A weak currency and high food prices contributed to revolts; many of Baghdad’s soldiers increasingly found themselves unpaid and resorted to bandity or desertion. Topping off years of natural disasters- heavy rain, storms, annual flooding, in 1256, the Tigris, the river which runs through Baghdad, flooded for over a month, washing away much of Baghdad’s lower city. Attributed to divine displeasure at the decadent al-Mustasim, for decades afterwards this flood was remembered as the “Mustasimid flood.” As Mongol armies approached the city, pestilence killed many hundreds, if not thousands. The Caliph stood in a precarious position.   Likely in late 1255, Hulegu sent a message to Caliph al-Mustasim demanding, as Hulegu had done with other rulers across the region, that Baghdad supply troops to help in the attack on the Nizari Isamilis. Al-Mustasim refused. As the ‘Abbasids had been sending tribute in the previous years and were considered vassals, such a refusal was a declaration of independence. Hulegu, having been sent in part to find how sincere the Caliph’s submission was, now had his casus belli, for to the Mongols, the Caliph of Baghdad was now in open revolt. War with the Caliph was not intended to punish Islam specifically; had the Mongols caught the Pope and considered him a rebel, certainly he would have shared a similar fate. What mattered to the Mongols was submission to their divinely mandated rule; refusal to submit was blasphemy of the highest order.   After the fall of Alamut in December 1256, and spending some time near the still-resisting Nizari fortress of Lammasar, Hulegu stayed in Qazwin, just south of Alamut, until March 1257. From Qazwin he undertook a somewhat repetitive journey: from Qazwin he went to Hamadan, then to Dinavar, then Tabriz, then back to Hamadan, then back to Tabriz, then back to Hamadan in September 1257, from whence he would finally march on Baghdad. The reasons for this were multiple, and not just because Hulegu really liked northwestern Iran, though it did give him good time to evaluate the region. Firstly, Hulegu did not want to besiege Baghdad in the summer months, and instead needed to time the march so he arrived outside the city in the winter. Secondly, it provided time for his lieutenants to secure the neighbouring theaters: Kitbuqa Noyan secured through force and diplomacy Luristan and the passes through the Zagros mountains, ensuring Hulegu’s main army could march unimpeded when the time came. In Anatolia, Baiju Noyan had needed to put down a Seljuq revolt, culminating in the battle of Aksaray in October 1256. Baiju then needed to move back east, in order to march on Baghdad from the west when the time came.   Thirdly, Hulegu and the Caliph engaged in an entertaining round of diplomatic fisti-cuffs. Hulegu offered the Caliph another chance to surrender, repudiating him for his failure to send troops against the Nizaris. Hulegu’s threat, as recorded by the Ilkhanid vizier Rashid al-Din, went as follows:   “Previously we have given you advice, but now we say you should avoid our wrath and vengeance. Do not try to overreach yourself or accomplish the impossible, for you will only succeed in harming yourself. The past is over. Destroy your ramparts, fill in your moats, turn the kingdom over to your son, and come to us. If you do not wish to come, send all three, the vizier [al-Alqami], Sulaymanshah, and the Dawatdar, that they may convey our message word for word. If our command is obeyed, it will not be necessary for us to wreak vengeance, and you may retain your lands, army, and subjects. If you do not heed our advice and dispute with us, line up your soldiers and get ready for the field of battle, for we have our loins girded for battle with you and are standing at the ready. When I lead my troops in wrath against Baghdad, even if you hide in the sky or in the earth, ‘I shall bring you down from the turning celestial sphere; I shall pull you up like a lion. I shall not leave one person alive in your realm, and I shall put your city and country to the torch.’ “If you desire to have mercy on your ancient family’s heads, heed my advice. If you do not, let us see what God’s will is.”   The Caliph refused Hulegu’s demands, and when he sent back Hulegu’s envoys, they were harassed by the people of Baghdad; the Caliph’s vizier, ibn al-Alqami, had to send soldiers to protect the envoys to ensure they weren’t killed. When Hulegu learned of the incident, he derided the Caliph as a total incompetent, and then flew into a rage when he heard the official response, which called Hulegu a young and inexperienced man: somewhat humorous, considering al-Mustasim was only four years older than Hulegu. Hulegu’s response was about as subtle as you’d expect. Again, as per the account of Rashid al-Din, quote:   “God the eternal elevated [Chinggis] Khan and his progeny and gave us all the face of the earth, from east to west. Anyone whose heart and tongue are straight with us in submission retains his kingdom, property, women, children, and life. He who contemplates otherwise will not live to enjoy them. Love of status and property, conceit, and pride in transitory fortune have so seduced you that even the words of your well-wishers have no effect on you. Your ear cannot hear the advice of the compassionate, and you have deviated from the path of your fathers and forebears. You must get ready for battle, for I am coming to Baghdad with an army as numerous as ants and locusts. Be the turning of the celestial sphere how it may, the power to command is God’s.”   Upon hearing this message, al-Mustasim’s vizier ibn al-Alqami understood the colossal danger they were in, and fervently argued for the Caliph to appease the Mongols. Al-Alqami has something of a bisecting reputation in the Islamic world. For some, reading the Mamluk sources, the Shia Muslim ibn al-Alqami was a conspirator, plotting with Hulegu to topple the head of Sunni Islam for his own gain. For those reading from Persian and Ilkhanid sources, ibn al-Alqami was earnestly trying to steer the Caliph away from annihilation and save as many lives as he could. On this last response from Hulegu, al-Alqami was able to convince al-Mustasim to send gifts, only for the Caliph to be talked out of it by the dawatdar, Mugahid al-Din Aybek, the Caliphate’s top military man and a staunch supporter of resistance against Hulegu. Convincing the Caliph to abandon the expensive gifts, al-Mustasim sent the following message to vizier al-Alqami to assuage his worries:   “Do not fear the future, and do not talk fables, for there is friendship and unity, not enmity and hostility, between me and Hülägü and [Mongke Khaan]. Since I am their friend, they are of course friendly and benevolent toward me. The envoys’ message is false. Even if these brothers contemplate opposition to or treachery against me, what has the Abbasid dynasty to fear, when the monarchs of the face of the earth stand as our army and obey our every command? If I request an army from every country and mount to repulse the foe, I can incite Iran and Turan against these brothers. Be of stout heart, and do not fear the threats of the Mongols, for although they are powerful upstarts, they pose nothing but an empty threat to the House of Abbas.” If Rashid al-Din is accurate in recording this message, then it goes some way to demonstrate just how greatly al-Mustasim misunderstood the situation. al-Mustasim’s next letter to Hulegu spoke of monarchs who had attacked the ‘Abbasids and suffered divine retribution for it, noting specifically Muahmmad Khwarezm-shah, who for his attack on Baghdad in 1217 suffered the power of Hulegu’s grandfather. Hulegu sent another threat, promising to bring the Caliph “down miserably into the jaws of a lion,” and had enough of parlay.   Hulegu had only to check with the astrologers and diviners of his retinue in order to ensure the assault had good fortune. Variously they warned of failure, catastrophe, and death for harming the Caliph. Finally, Hulegu turned to the famed Iranian scholar rescued from the Nizari fortresses, Nasir al-Din Tusi, and asked what he thought of the matter. After thinking for a moment, Tusi told Hulegu that none of these things would happen. Hulegu asked what would. Tusi replied, “Hulegu Khan will take the Caliph’s place.” And that was enough for Hulegu. The border passes were now secured, and the march on Baghdad could begin.    As Hulegu marched through Kermanshah, massacres followed him. His army approached Baghdad in three directions. Kitbuqa took a route through Luristan, and would march on Baghdad from the south. Baiju Noyan came through northern Iraq, crossing the Tigris near Irbil and closing in on Baghdad’s west and north. Hulegu took the main army through the Hulwan pass and would close off Baghdad from the east, thus encircling the city.    As the armies entered Iraq, cities and towns across Mesopotamia surrendered to them. In January 1258 as the Mongols closed in on the city, the Caliphal army under the Dawatdar tried to repulse Baiju’s army. They were lured into a feigned retreat; a dyke was broken and their camp flooded. Few survivors escaped back to Baghdad. By January 22ned, the Mongol armies had linked up around the city. Not just Mongols, but subject Iranians, Turks, Georgians and Armenians made up this force, with a thousand Chinese siege engineers. The defenders of Baghdad were outnumbered and without hope. For a week, the Mongols prepared their siege lines. Pontoon bridges were built across the Tigris, nets and iron hooks hanging from them to ensure none could escape either up or downriver. No stones for the catapults were within the area, so they needed to be hauled in from elsewhere. A ditch was dug around the city, the earth from the ditch used to build a rampart with gates set in it. Protective coverings were built for the siege engines. With the typical thoroughness of the early Toluids, Baghdad was closed off, its fate sealed.   The assault began on January 29th. An incessant barrage of stones and arrows brought the defenders to their knees. The artillery upon the walls of Baghdad was poorly maintained and outranged by that of the Mongols, useless in the words of one source. Under mobile wooden shelters, the Mongols advanced on the walls, sending arrows deeper into the city. One of the Caliph’s daughters was killed when an arrow passed through a window in his palace. Messages were tied to arrows, proclaiming that all those who did not resist would be spared. By the start of February, towers and bastions along the walls were collapsing. By February 3rd, Mongol forces were capturing the walls. When one of Hulegu’s commanders was killed by an arrow sent from the city, he angrily forced his army on at greater speed.   Realizing just how monumentally he had erred, al-Mustasim sent envoys, among them the once bellicose Dawatdar, to discuss terms with Hulegu. They were quickly put to death. Nothing but the unconditional surrender of the Caliph himself was good enough. Finally, on February 10th, al-Mustasim and his family came out from Baghdad, and put his life in the hands of Hulegu. Initially, the Caliph was treated respectfully. Other notables came out to submit to Hulegu, and many others fled out of the city to escape the pestilence which had already claimed thousands within. These who came out were trapped between the walls of Baghdad and the Mongol palisade. Once the garrison and its weapons were collected, on the 13th of February, the sack of Baghdad began.   In popular culture, the sack of Baghdad is uncontrolled, disorganized, horrifically violent and results in the city’s utter destruction and death of a million people. In reality it was controlled, organized, horrifically violent and resulted in only most of the city’s destruction and deaths of thousands. Rather than wiping Baghdad from the map, it was more of an organized dismemberment. Evidence comes from multiple accounts, but we’ll focus on that of the musician, Urmawi. In contrast to the image of the mob running wild over Baghdad, Urmawi’s account, recorded by the Mamluk historian Shihab al-Din al-’Umari, records the Mongols meticulously planned the sacking. Depending on rank, commanders were given 1 to 3 days to collect loot from sections of the city allotted to them. In Urmawi’s case, his neighbourhood was allotted to Baiju Noyan and his retinue- notably just men Baiju picked to bring into the city with him, rather than a whole portion of his army. Urmawi greeted Baiju with gifts and hosted a feast for him, entertaining him with music and ingratiating himself to the Noyan. Baiju was so pleased he urged Urmawi to come with him to play before Hulegu. Hulegu enjoyed a concert before the walls of Baghdad, ordered Urmawi’s neighbourhood spared and protected with picked men, and even granted Urmawi gardens which had belonged to the Caliph.   Likewise, various sources note that a number of segments of the populations were spared and their property protected: Christians, notably Nestorian priests; Shi’ites and Alids; Khurasani merchants, Qadis, scholars, shaykhs and in one source, Jews. Individuals are mentioned petitioning Hulegu to spare their homes- likely for a hefty payment, of course- but in order to follow these orders, the forces looting the city had to be disciplined enough to actually take note of addresses. Even the oft-repeated statement that the Tigris River ran black with ink of the books of Baghdad’s library must be re-examined, for Nasir al-Din Tusi took many with him to Maragha, where he built his famous observatory. A number of sources indicate the city’s looting lasted only a week, rather than a full month.   Clemency was extended to multiple groups… but for the majority of the city’s population who did not fall into these categories, it appears no quarter was given. For all the gated neighbourhoods like Urmawi’s which were protected, many more were gutted and looted. Treasures collected over the city’s 500 years were stolen, the finest architecture of the ‘Abbasids ruined and torn down. Hulegu entered the city on February 15th, visiting the Caliph’s palace, where al-Mustasim was forced to reveal where he had hidden his wealth. 12,000 severed ears were brought before Hulegu to mark the slain citizenry. The dead littered the street; after a few days, the heat and stench of the rotting bodies led Hulegu to end the looting by February 20th. Notably, the city was not to be left to brigandage: a governor and Mongol officials were appointed, ibn al-Alqami kept his position as vizier, to clean up the bodies and restore the city.   On the 20th of February, Hulegu moved to the village of Waqaf to avoid the foul air of Baghdad, from which he apparently fell sick. At Waqaf, Hulegu had al-Mustasim put to death, most likely rolled into a carpet and stomped upon to avoid spilling his blood on the earth. His family soon followed him.  In European accounts, the popular version was that Hulegu locked Mustasim in his treasury, where he starved to death in an ironic punishment to mark the Caliph’s failures to pay for troops and defences.   So ended the 500 year old ‘Abbasid Caliphate. The impact on Islam is hard to understate. Since the death of the Prophet Muhammad in 632, there had been a widely recognized successor to him in the form of the Caliphs -Rashidun, Umayyad and ‘Abbasid. Most Muslims saw him as the spiritual, if not the actual political, head of Islam. For the Caliphate, seemingly inviolable and permanent, to come to such a violent and sudden end sent shockwaves throughout the Islamic world. Caliphates had been overthrown before; previous dynasties like the Buyids and Seljuqs had held the Caliphs as puppets and militarily defeated them, while the Nizari Assassins had claimed the lives of at least two; but never before had the Caliphate actually been erased from existence by a power claiming universal sovereignty in its place. Distant relations of al-Mustasim were eventually set up in Mamluk Cairo as new Caliphs, but were never widely recognized. The Ottoman Sultans would also claim the title of Caliph in time, but none have ever been able to step into the position held by the ‘Abbasids. It’s no surprise that many Muslims throughout the following centuries have referred to the sack of Baghdad as a scar of the psyche of the ummah, one which it has not recovered from today. With the fall of Baghdad, Hulegu could now cast his eyes onto Syria, down the Levantine coast to the newly established Mamluk Sultanate of Egypt. The sense was real that Hulegu was about to bring the whole of Islam under the authority of the house of Chinggis. Our next episode takes us to the Mongol drive to the Meditteranean- and the famous clash of ‘Ayn Jalut, an episode you won’t want to miss. Be sure to subscribe to our podcast, and to help up continue bringing you great content, consider supporting us on Patreon at www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. I’m your host David, and we’ll catch you on the next one.

(Birmingham City University – 20_03_2019).

Most popular discussions of the Mongol invasions of Japan simply end with the typhoon of 1281 wiping out the Yuan fleet off the coast of Kyushu. This was not the end of Kublai Khan’s dreams to conquer Japan though, nor do such retellings present the long term consequences of the invasion. Today, we will do just that, describing what happened in the years after the events of the new video game, Ghost of Tsushima. Our previous two episodes have discussed the first invasion in 1274, the story of Takezaki Suenaga, a samurai who fought in both invasions, and went over in brief the invasion of 1281. If you’re following Kings and Generals on Youtube, then you’ve also seen one of our newest videos, focusing on the battles on Tsushima and Iki islands. Now, we’re going to tie together everything we’ve talked about, and how this huge expenditure of men and resources affected both Japan, and Kublai Khan’s Yuan Empire. I’m your host David, but just before we get to today's content, we here at Ages of Conquest would like to say thank you to you, our listeners who download the podcast every week. Your support is greatly appreciated and the reason we do this. You could help us even more by donating through our patreon at www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals or by leaving a five star review in your podcast app of choice! And now, this is,Ages of Conquest.   We’ll start off with the impact on Japan and then go into the consequences for Kublai later on in the episode. In Japan, the impact was significant but not immediate. In the days after the typhoon in August 1281, the Japanese killed the Mongol and Korean survivors they found. The Chinese were spared the sword, instead enslaved with few returning. Though a victory, the Japanese government, the shogunate ruling from Kamakura city, was wary. It was impossible for them to judge the full might of the Yuan, and Mongol envoys continued to arrive over the next few years demanding Japanese submission. In preparation for a third invasion, defences continued to be manned, the long sea wall built around Hakata Bay maintained, and garrisons stationed for the next 50 years. The Bakufu -the Japanese term for the shogunate- again considered launching an attack against Korea, the departing point for Mongol fleets in both invasions. Korean naval experience and ships were an important part of Mongol naval capabilities. It’s difficult to gauge how far these talks actually went, but they never materialized into anything concrete. The shikken, Japan’s de facto ruler, Hojo Tokimune, kept Japan on a war footing, a process which consolidated the power of the Bakufu, especially on Kyushu island where the fighting had happened.    This was valuable, due to the rather… wonky nature of Japanese government. The shikken was officially regent for the shogun, who was ruling in the name of the emperor, who still had his own court, but the actual power in the court was the peculiar Japanese position of the retired emperor, or emperor emeritus. Sometimes called ‘cloistered rule,’ an emperor would retire after a short reign, and then allow a son to become emperor, who dealt with court protocol and ceremony while the retired emperor made the actual decisions. During this period, the shogun was also the grandson of the late emperor Go-Daigo. Of course, this isn’t mentioning the layers of regional and local lords and vassals the government worked through. Officially the shikken could only boss around vassals of the shogun, and was in theory only in charge of military matters. The crisis brought on by the Mongol threat was a great opportunity to expand the power of the bakufu, placing allies and members of the Hojo clan into prominent military governor positions, bringing these into the direct hold of the bakufu. The only troops the bakufu could raise were the gokenin, or‘housemen,’ the vassals of the shogun. But in the danger of the oncoming second invasion, non-gokenin forces in western Japan were mobilized, making the precedent for increased military reach of the bakufu.    In 1281 Hojo Tokimune was still young with foresight and great energy, and intended to further strengthen his family’s hold on Japan. What more would he get away with using the justification of another Mongol attack! The position of the shogun and the emperor were totally compliant to Tokimune, and factions within his own clan were kept tightly in check. What might have been, had Tokimune not suddenly died in April 1284, only 34 years old. He was succeeded by his son, Hojo Sadatoki, too young to rule in earnest. The young Sadatoki was dominated by two advisors, Adachi Yasumori and Taira Yoristuna. The two had been at odds for years, but Tokimune had kept the peace. Without his presence, their cooperation could only be temporary. In late 1285, Taira Yoristuna and his faction suddenly attacked and killed Adachi Yasumori, leaving Yoristuna to control the young Sadatoki. From 1285 until 1293, Japan was ruled by the regent of the regent acting for the shogun acting for the emperor, who was also sidelined by the retired emperor.    The murder of Adachi Yasumori sent shockwaves across the bakufu. A popular man who had been energetic in promoting judicial reforms, his death prompted murders and suicides of Adachi loyalists and family, as well as armed revolts in Kyushu. The loss of many prominent officers was a first blow to the bakufu’s governing ability. Taira Yoritsuna also had to deal with the growing discontent of the samurai clamouring for rewards after the 1281 invasion. As we discussed in our previous episode, it was the custom for samurai to be rewarded for bravery in battle, generally with land confiscated from the defeated enemy. After the Genpei War, which saw the rise of the Shogunate in the 1190s, a whole class of land owning samurai was created, the gokenin, rewarding loyal samurai who fought for the Minamoto clan with inhabited lands. They’d collect the revenues, send part to the shogun and use the remainder to support themselves; the lands could then be inherited by their children. By the 1280s, these lands had been parcelled up and divided, and then divided again, leaving many of the gokenin facing destitution. Enough gokenin were forced to sell or pawn their lands that by the late 1260s the bakufu was issuing laws forbidding this and ordering lands to be returned. For many, the rewards they expected to receive from fighting the Mongols was the difference between maintaining the status quo and impoverishment. The Kamakura Bakufu proved slow to doll out the rewards: under Taira Yoristuna, the rewards largely went to important Hojo and Bakufu supporters, leaving out the poorer gokenin who actually needed it. A large group of well armed men with little stake in the status quo was gradually being formed.   In 1293, the shikken Hojo Sadatoki had Taira Yoristuna and his supporters assassinated, ushering in an era of attempted centralization. Sadatoki was only 24 years old in 1293 and wanted to consolidate the power of the bakufu like his father, largely through force and largely unsuccessfully. He struggled to reduce factionalism within the bakufu, and tried to employ the gokenin in suppressing bandity and piracy. Too late was it realized that in many cases the bandits were the gokenin, and such suppression efforts proved futile. All while dealing with the expenditure of continuing to prepare for a Mongol return. When Sadatoki died in 1311, he was remembered as a tired politician who had decreed innumerable death sentences. Sadatoki was succeeded by a nine year old son, Takatoki, dominated by his advisers. Largely ignoring political matters, even when he came of age he was unable, and unwilling, to exert a redirection on the ailing Bakufu.   Takatoki was a poor figure to match another growing threat facing the bakufu.  Back in 1221 the retired emperor Go-Toba attempted to throw off the rule of the Hojo, only to be quickly defeated and Hojo rule secured. In the aftermath, the Hojo asserted greater power over the emperors, including the mandate to decide the imperial succession as needed, though generally left this to the retired emperor. Since the 11th century, the retired emperors held authority and influence over the sitting emperors, just to add that extra layer of confusion to medieval Japanese politics. The Bakufu had a particularly good relationship with the emperor Go-Saga, who reigned as Japan’s 88th emperor, ruling from 1242 to 1246 but acting as retired emperor until his death in 1272. Go-Saga’s son Prince Munetaka became Shogun in 1251, his next son was the 89th Emperor, Gofukakusa and a third son was the 90th emperor, Kameyama, reigning until his retirement in 1274. Go-Saga had never declared whether Gofukakusa or Kameyama would control the succession, anticipating that the Bakufu would simply decide. In theory Gofukakusa, as the senior retired-emperor on Go-Saga’s death in 1272, had control over the succession. The Bakufu sought the opinion of Go-Saga’s widow, who told them to instead choose Kameyama. For the first time in 200 years the sitting emperor, Kameyama, was dominant over the retired emperor, Gofukakusa. It was a step towards the empowerment of the emperors which led to the downfall of the Bakufu.    A consequence of this was both Gofukakusa and Kameyama each thought his own children should sit on the Chrysanthemum Throne. When Kameyama retired in 1274 he declared his son to succeed him as the 91st Emperor, Go-Uda. When it was apparent that Gofukakusa was angry at this, the Bakufu made an unusual decision: they declared that the throne would alternate between the two lines, with Go-Uda to make his heir Gofukakusa’s son, the future 92nd Emperor, Fushimi.  The motive isn’t exactly clear: historian Ishii Susuma has suggested this was a means of control. Facing the threat of the Mongol invasion, the first in 1274 and a second sure to follow, the Bakufu may have believed tightly controlling the imperial succession was another way to secure their power in the crisis of the Mongol threat. Whatever the case, the Bakufu now interfered with the succession at will, demanding the resignation of an emperor whenever rumour reached them of anti-Bakufu sentiment. By the early 1300s the alternating succession was formalized, and the antagonism between the lines of Gofukakusa and Kameyama institutionalized. By the time the two brothers died in 1304 and 1305, the competition between their families had gone on for some 30 years. By 1318 the Bakufu enforced further guidelines, limiting each emperor to a maximum ten year reign and forbidding the offspring of the new monarch, the 96th emperor Go-Daigo, a grandson of Kameyama, from ever taking the throne. For Go-Daigo, who dreamed of overthrowing the shogunate, this was infuriating.    Luckily for Go-Daigo the time was ripe to topple the Kamakura Bakufu. The current shogun was Go-Daigo’s cousin, a grandson of Gofukakusa and an absolute non-entity. The shikken until 1326 was the distracted Takatoki, who retired that year and brought further crisis to the leadership of the bakufu. His successor resigned after only a month, due to an assassination attempt by Takatoki’s mother, who then installed Takatoki’s brother as the final shikken of the Kamakura Bakufu, Hojo Moritoki. The political leadership of the shogunate was hamstrung.  The unrest among the gokenin and earlier banditry turned into rebellion, small armies emerging across Japan challenging the shogunate’s rule. Go-Daigo shopped for allies and didn’t have far to look. In 1333 Go-Daigo’s star general, the masterful tactician Kusunoki Misahige, defeated a Bakufu army. With their military might broken, or at least the longstanding belief in it, the key underpinning of Bakufu rule was removed. Bakufu commanders such as Ashikaga Takauji and Nitta Yoshisada joined the imperial cause.Yoshisada attacked the Bakufu’s capital of Kamakura. The leadership of the Hojo committed suicide and the Shogunate was dismantled. The Emperor was now back in real power for the first time in generations… for about three years.   The aforementioned Ashikaga Takauji hadn’t fought for the restoration of imperial power, but rather, to make himself shogun: essentially, replace the Kamakura Bakufu with one led by his own family. Emperor Go-Daigo’s failure to reward his new military supporters with confiscated Kamakura lands alienated his fragile base of support.  In 1335 some Hojo survivors briefly recaptured Kamakura, and this was the spark for Ashikaga Takauji’s own putsch. Retaking the city, Takauji acted as shogun, ordering lands of his political foes confiscated and redistributed. In 1336 Takauji marched on the imperial capital of Kyoto. Go-Daigo fled before him and when Takauji set up a puppet emperor in Kyoto from the line of Gofukakusa, Go-Daigo set up a rival court in the mountains south the city. So began the 60 year period in Japanese history known as the Northern and Southern Courts, with the Northern Court, based in Kyoto, puppets to legitimize the Ashikaga Shogunate, and a southern court officially challenging them. Not until 1392 was this settled and the long running conflict between the lines of Gofukakusa and Kameyama brought to an end. The Ashikaga Shogunate nominally ruled Japan until 1588, but never matched the strength of the Kamakura Bakufu. Though the Ashikaga Shoguns held high pretensions- the third Shogun called himself the King of Japan in official correspondence- over the 15th century their hold weakened precipitously, and by the 1490s Japan’s famous Sengoku Jidai period began, the warring states period which eventually yielded to the control of the Tokugawa Shoguns.   The Mongol invasion on Japan undermined the Kamakura Bakufu, both causing and compounding fractures within the shogunate. Other than this, the impact of the invasion was much more limited, and not until recently was it seen as a ‘national’ event for the Japanese. On Kyushu, where the fighting had been and home of most of the actual defenders, the Mongol invasion held a high place in memory, shaping the identity of many warrior families. The island’s administration and judicial system were greatly affected, both by increasing Bakufu control and decades of preparing for Mongol returns. For the majority of Japanese though, other than the government shifts and conflicts, they saw little influence of the invasion on their lives. Claims that it prompted a shift in Japanese perceptions of the “foreign” have little basis in the 13th or 14th centuries. Samurai like Takezaki Suenaga saw it as just another battle for which to claim reward, rather than a national emergency: his own account simply calls the Mongols ‘pirates,’ or ‘rebels.’ The invasion did not prompt a national consciousness for Japan. Outside of Kyushu, after the 13th century wider Japanese interest in the invasions did not pick up until Takezaki Suenaga’s scrolls depicting the invasion began to be copied and distributed at the end of 1700s. Since the Samurai no longer had an actual military role by then, they were eager to celebrate the heroic combat of their ancestors -not because of victory over foreigners or civil wars, but that they had done brave deeds.   If the slow distribution of the scrolls promoted knowledge of the invasions, it was the forced opening of Japan and interaction with western imperial pressure in the mid-1800s in which, retroactively, the Mongol invasions became the “first round” of ‘Japan vs the world.’ The Mongol invasion was a popular medium to depict the Americans and Europeans as invaders coming to Japan.  The last of the Tokugawa Shoguns was ousted in 1868, and the 122nd emperor, Meiji, was the first to hold real power since the defeat of Go-Daigo some 500 years prior. Under Meiji, a national historiography was promoted to catch on to this new-fangled European idea of ‘nation-states.’ The Mongol Invasions were especially prominent in the new history textbooks, appearing on the currency and in popular art. With the boom in Japanese nationalism at the turn of the century and military victories over China and the Russian Empire, the Japanese government made the Mongol invasion a useful propaganda tool, presenting Japan as a divinely protected, and superior, nation to its foes. It’s roughly this time that the term kamikaze specifically came to be associated with the storms which marked the end of both invasion attempts. As we mentioned in previous episodes, the 13th and 14th century Japanese sources make little mention of the storms; divine support was seen in the fact that the Japanese won, rather than a specific manifestation via the storms. In the late 19th century, as both knowledge and popularity of the invasions grew, the storms became the sign of Japan’s divine favour, an idea which is now irrevocably tied to the invasions. The connotations of divine rescue in Japan’s hour of need reached their ultimate evolution with the kamikaze pilots of 1944, a last ditch effort to slow the American approach on the Japanese home islands.   The consequences of the invasion on the Mongol Empire were not as significant. Kublai Khan’s immediate reaction to the defeat in August 1281 was to demand a third invasion. Envoys were again sent to Japan demanding its submission, and orders were sent across his realm for ships and rice for another attack. Only by 1286 were Kublai’s advisers able to dissuade him against another attack.  Thought for invading Japan did not totally go away though: in 1280, the “Mobile Bureau for the Subjugation of Japan,” was established in Korea which was officially to prepare for further incursions. Dissolved and reformed several times, it became the highest arm of Mongol authority in Korea until the end of Yuan rule in the late 14th century.    We will explore Kublai’s career in greater detail in future episodes, but by the mid-1280s his most trusted advisers, his chief and most beloved wife and his favourite son and heir were dead. Losing the only voices that could rein Kublai in, he became depressed, seeking solace in food and alcohol, suffering from gout and obesity. Japan was not his only failed foreign venture; he also ordered inconclusive invasions against Vietnam, Burma, Java and fought rebellions in Central Asia, Mongolia, Manchuria and Tibet. Having lost direct rule over the rest of the empire, the destruction of the fleets against Japan must have felt to Kublai like a failure to complete the Mongol conquest of the world. The defeats only deepened the morose of Kublai’s final years, but the invasion of Japan did not singularly cause this.    More immediate effects were economic. The expenditure of men, ships and resources against Japan, and other overseas ventures, were enormous for no gain. To try to make up the difference, Kublai demanded his finance ministers bring in ever greater tribute and taxation. In Chinese sources, these men are called the “three Villainous Ministers,” or some variation thereof- Ahmad Fanakati, Lu Shirong and Sangha, who, in their attempts to meet the demands  of the aging Khan, with some personal enrichment along the way, were accused of heinous crimes and greed, from stealing women to looting tombs of the Song Emperors. While some accusations are likely exaggerations, the impression gained by the Chinese was one of mistreatment, and undid much of the goodwill Kublai earned from his other reconstruction efforts. The 1280s up until Kublai’s death at the start of 1294 saw mismanagement and corruption set in which Kublai’s less able successors never shook off. The attacks did not end Japanese trade with China; it continued after Kublai’s death, but with increasing restriction and regulation ordered by the Yuan government. To protect themselves, Japanese ships coming to China came with armed men, which gave way easily to piracy. Hence, wako pirates once again threatened the Korean and Chinese coastlines from the 14th century on.   To the Chinese and Mongols, they were left with an impression of the Japanese as tough warriors, but at that time little else was learned of them. Marco Polo, who arrived in China after the first invasion, provides the first European mention of Japan -Zipangu, he calls it- and a garbled version of the invasion. Describing the Japanese as incredibly wealthy, he describes the storm sinking the fleet, but with the addition that shipwrecked survivors were able to sneak into the Japanese capital city and take it, a paltry attempt to preserve the image of Mongol invincibility. It is from Polo’s account that Japan would first appear on European maps, some 200 years before Europeans first physically set foot on Japan in the 1540s.    Our final note is a brief one;  The sword used by the samurai at the time of the Mongol invasion was the tachi, a long, single-edged blade with a pronounced curvature.  It seems to some extent the Japanese found the swords ill suited to the task, that the sword was deemed too fragile against either the Mongol armours, particularly full iron lamellar, or Mongol and Chinese swords which were shorter, thicker and sturdier made than the Japanese equivalents. As the Japanese did not use shields, attempts to block sword blows with the tachi may have resulted in significant chipping of the blade. According to the theory this spawned a need to redesign the tachi, making it stronger, shorter and somewhat straighter. The centralization of the Kamakura Bakufu and large mobilization of warriors resulted in hundreds, if not thousands, of men making the trips across Japan and to the capital and beyond. This provided a means to pass on technical knowledge of changing sword designs, and by the late 14th century spawned the emergence of a new weapon for the samurai: the katana. In that respect at least, the expansion of the Mongol Empire was an irregular road to providing a classic weapon for thousands of anime characters. Such is the nature of history!   This ends our series on Mongol Invasions of Japan; hopefully you’ve listened to this, the previous episodes and our newest video while you’ve been playing Ghost of Tsushima, and perhaps learned something along the way. Our next episode will go back to our regular series, picking up with the western expansion of Hulegu against the ‘Abbasid Caliph in the 1250s. If you’d like to help us continue bringing you great content, consider supporting us on patreon at www.patreon/kingsandgenerals. I’m your host David, and we’ll catch you on the next one.

For most who experienced the Mongol invasions first hand, it was a sight of untold horror, an unstoppable enemy bringing fire and ruin. For Takezaki Suenaga, a samurai who fought against the Mongols in both of their failed invasions of Japan, it was a chance for the highest glory, and none could restrain him from taking the field against them. For the second episode in our Ghost of Tsushima -themed week, we present the story of a historical samurai who fought the Mongols, one who provided us with a set of illustrated scrolls which described his exploits. Today, we’re going to go through the account of Takezaki Suenaga, a rare opportunity to see how one man experienced the Mongol invasions first hand. Perhaps you’ll be able to compare his experiences with those of the player character, Jin, in Ghost of Tsushima. I’m your host David, and this is Kings and Generals: Ages of Conquest.       Very little is known of Takezaki Suenaga prior to the invasions. He was a gokenin, a ‘houseman,’ a minor samurai from Higo province of Kyushu island, the southernmost of the main five of the Japanese home islands. He was part of the Takezaki clan, owned lands, could provide himself a horse, armour and bring 5 retainers to battle- about average for warriors from Kyushu, but slightly more than what the common samurai of Honshu, the largest Japanese island, could muster. 29 years old on the eve of the first Mongol invasion in 1274, Suenaga was known to have been involved in a land dispute which had put his personal finances in great jeopardy. Beyond such broad strokes, his early life is lost to us.   Higo Province, located in western Kyushu, was comparatively close to the strategic  Hakata Bay, the large, natural harbour which any invasion fleet departing southern Korea would certainly strike for. Suenaga, living in Higo Province, was probably put on warning from 1268 onwards, when the Japanese government, the Kamakura Bakufu, began to prepare for a possible Mongol invasion. The details of this buildup of tension between Japan and Kublai Khan was explained in our previous episode, and we won’t reiterate that here. The Mongol invasion fleet departed Korea early in November 1274, swiftly taking the islands of Tsushima and Iki. As the fleet neared Hakata Bay, the warriors of Kyushu were mobilized, Suenaga among them.  In theory, the warrior would fight together with families of shared lineage, but were under no obligation to do so. Suenaga was part of the Takezaki clan, but operated nearly totally independently of them. By the time he and his men, all on horseback, arrived near the area of Hakata Bay, the Mongols had already broken through the defensive line. Suenaga had trained since childhood in archery, swordsmanship and riding; he had his own colourful set of yoroi armour, rows of iron lamellar and lacquered leather laced together. His principal weapon was the long, asymmetrical yumi, the Japanese warbow, a heavier bow than that utilized by the Mongols. In his small party was a bannerman to mark Suenaga’s location on the battlefield. The sword- not yet the famous katana,which developed in the 14th century- was the dignified sidearm, though the longer, spear-like naginata was more commonly used once the enemy was too close for bow-work.   When Suenaga arrived, the Mongols had already established a temporary camp at Akasaka, some kilometres inland. The commander in charge of the gathering samurai was Shoni Kagesuke.  He ordered those samurai who were already approaching Akasaka, Suenaga among them, to fall back and await reinforcements. As it was poor terrain, they hoped to encourage the Mongols to come to them, lose their formation and then allow Japanese archery to tear at them. Suenaga followed the order, and once the various warriors were recalled and far from the enemy, Suenaga spurred his horse onwards, saying, “Waiting for the general will cause us to be late to battle. Of all the warriors of the clan, I Suenaga will be the first to fight from Higo!”   In Japanese warfare of the period, men were rewarded for valour in combat, being the first to enter battle, taking enemy heads or losing men of their own. Rewards included fine garments, horses, even lands. For a relatively poor samurai like Suenaga who could quite possibly lose his expensive armour, weapons and horse in the battle, not to mention faced dispossession of his lands, such rewards made all the difference. The prestige itself from heroic acts in combat could not be dismissed, either. The problem was that these were powerful incentives against patiently waiting for orders.  As Suenaga rode on, one of commander Kagesuke’s retainers called on Suenaga to dismount and wait, to which he replied, “We five are going to fight before you. We won’t limit ourselves to merely shooting down the enemy! I have no purpose in life but to advance and be known!” Kagesuke recognized that he’d be unable to hold Suenaga back, and told him that he would be witness to him. This was an important aspect to this reward system: unless someone could bring severed heads of the enemy, he needed witnesses, preferably multiple, who could vouch for the samurai’s actions. If the multiple witnesses provided contrasting details, then the Bakufu could dismiss the account.   On his ride to Akasaka, Suenaga encountered some Samurai returning, carrying severed heads of the enemy. Learning that the Mongols had abandoned Akasaka and were retreating to the beach in two main bodies, Suenaga drove his horse onwards ever faster. Pursuing the smaller of the two retreating Mongol forces, Suenaga was frustrated when he rode his horse right into mud flats. By the time he freed his horse, the Mongols had stopped at Sohara. Here he was finally about to close with his enemy, when one of his own retainers stopped him, urging him to wait for the oncoming Japanese reinforcements: better chances of victory, and witnesses, for his actions. In typical fashion, Suenaga dismissed his concerns, shouting: “The way of the bow and arrow is to do what is worthy of reward. Charge!” By then the Mongols had pressed on, reaching the beach and open ground. To Suenaga’s credit, he mentions  his bannerman was the first one out. The small party of samurai were met with a hail of Mongol arrows. The bannerman’s horse was shot out from under him and he was thrown; Suenaga and three other retainers were injured by arrows, and finally his own horse was struck, throwing him into the sand. This is the most famous scene in the illustrated scrolls, which shows Suenaga being thrown forward off his horse while blood spills copiously from the wound.  In the illustration, a bomb is being set off nearby. The presence of this bomb is generally taken to be a later addition to the art, drawn in a different style. Had the Mongols thrown explosives at Suenaga, doubtless he would have mentioned surviving such a terrifying weapon. The likely archaeological remains of such bombs have been found; this specific party of Mongols is just unlikely to have lobbed them at Suenaga.   Thrown from his horse, Mongol arrows raking his small party, Suenaga admits in his narrative that he would have died there, had it not been for a timely charge of a formidable unit of samurai cavalry from Hizen province. It’s commander, Shiroishi Rokuro Michiyasu (shi-roy-shi Ro-ko-ru Mich-i-yasu), rode right through the Mongol line, rider and horse miraculously emerging unscathed. Suenaga was evidently impressed by this, and acted as witness for him. Another gokenin was not so lucky: Suenaga watched the man bestruck in the neck by an arrow. After brief fighting, the Mongol party they had been chasing fled, evidently reached their ships, and thus ended Suenaga’s part in the first Mongol invasion of Japan.  The fleet soon departed, pushed back to Korea by strong winds, as we covered previously. Suenaga, by the way, never mentions anything regarding divine winds or storms, presenting a victory entirely through Japanese force of arms.    The next event in the narrative presented in Suenaga’s scrolls is the most detailed, wherein he travels to Kamakura city to try and get his rewards in 1275. To pay for the journey, Suenaga had to sell horse and saddle, and took the trip from Kyushu to Kamakura. There he met with little luck. The officials of the court ignored his requests, deeming him a minor, insignificant warrior. Here, Suenaga gives the most attribution to divinely inspired favour. Visiting a nearby shrine of Hachiman, the war god, and praying fervently, he returned and was in time to speak with the Office of Appeals. There he met with its administer, Adachi Yasumori, military governor of Suenaga’s home Higo province, one of the most powerful men in Japan and father-in-law to the shikken and Japan’s de facto ruler, Hojo Tokimune.  Suenaga told his story to Yasumori, and learned that Kagesuke’s brother, Tsunesuke, the military governor of Chikuzen province, had not mentioned Suenaga’s exploits in his report on the battle. Lacking this evidence, with neither dead retainers or enemy heads to show for it, Suenaga emphatically declared that if Kagesuke said under oath that Suenaga was lying, then they could take his head. Finally, Yasumori decided to take Suenaga’s deeds straight to the highest authority, the shikken Hojo Tokimune. Suenaga was recognized, rewarded with a fine horse and saddle, and had his land dispute settled in his favour. Of the 120 samurai rewarded for the 1274 invasion, Suenaga was also the only one who received commendation from the shogun. Yasumori’s actions evidently touched Suenaga, who commemorates him in the scrolls and in his will, urged his descendants to serve loyally the house of Adachi.    The Bakufu was generally reluctant to pay out these rewards. Normally as fighting was between the Japanese, confiscated lands and goods from the losing side were made the rewards for valourous samurai. But, fighting against a foreign enemy who retreated back over the sea, meant such rewards essentially had to be paid out of pocket by the Bakufu. A temporary measure to this was to forbid samurai like Suenaga from leaving Kyushu to make the trip to Kamakura to demand rewards, citing reasons of military defence. For the Kamakura Bakufu, this was to become a rather dangerous matter for them in coming years, and our next episode.   Hojo Tokimune and the Bakufu readily realized the victory in 1274 was not an end to the war. The Mongols would return, and in greater force. For this, an even greater effort was thrown into the defences. For over 20 kilometres around Hakata Bay a sea wall was built at likely beachheads, in places 3 metres high and 3 metres wide. Warriors from the provinces of Kyushu were to serve 3 months guard duty along the coast. The shugo positions, the military governors, came under more direct rule of the Hojo clan to strengthen its coordination abilities. Temples were ordered to pray for the nation, and in the final months of 1275 there was even discussion of a retaliatory attack against Korea, though it is difficult to judge if these preparations ever went past discussion.   With the conquest of the Song Dynasty in 1279, Kublai Khan now had ample men and resources for side projects, such as punishing the insolent Japanese archipelago. It was by all accounts a massive undertaking: 40,000 Northern Chinese, Mongolian and Korea troops departing from Korea aboard 900 ships, and as many as 100,000 men from the territories of the former Song Dynasty departing southern China aboard 3,500 ships.  It was immense, likely the largest seaborne invasion before D-Day in 1944, and only barely lurched from the gate. Many of the vessels were repurposed ships designed for rivers in southern China, not open ocean. Others were hastily constructed, built to hurriedly meet the deadline of an impatient Great Khan. The northern fleet, manned by experienced Korean sailors aboard sturdier ships, was ready to go, with a timetable to link up with the southern fleet at Iki island. The southern fleet was held up by the death of a commander, while its provisions spoiled in the warmth of south China. Frustrated, the northern fleet set out on its own;  by the 10th June 1281, Iki island was occupied, and again the fleet set out for Kyushu’s Hakata Bay. The Japanese sea-wall did its work. The Yuan Dynasty armada could not force a landing, well-protected Japanese archers repulsing efforts to land. For two months the fleet was essentially held in standstill, occupying Shiga island and unable to take advantage of the southern fleet’s arrival and disembarking on Kyushu.    With the enemy at sea, when the 35 year old Takezaki Suenaga arrived at Hakata Bay, he had a problem. He didn’t have a boat. Since the Mongols were not coming to them, and hungry for glory, the samurai were taking their small vessels out to sea, boarding the Yuan ships and fighting there. Suenaga and his retainers ran along the beach, looking for ships to take them but none had room. When hope seemed lost, the flag of Adachi Yasumori was spotted on a ship. Boarding a messenger skiff unsuited to the deeper waters where the Mongol fleet was, Suenaga and his retainers reached Yasomuri’s vessel. To the great displeasure of Yasumori’s retainers, Suenaga jumped aboard their ship. He told them he was ordered there by the military governor, and had to be on the ship- which Yasumori’s men saw right through, and ordered him to be thrown off. Suenaga cried that if they just gave him a small boat of his own, he’d leave on his own accord, but somehow that didn’t convince them.    Suenaga tried this same trick on the boat of another lord, Tsumori, where he annoyed them enough that they let him on board. There was no space for Suenaga’s retainers, who complained but could only watch him sail away. Such is the way of the bow and arrow, Suenaga simply wrote on that. In the process Suenaga forgot to grab his helmet, and fashioned an impromptu defence out of two shinguards he tied to his head.  Finally they neared an enemy ship, and in the process of trying to board Suenaga was injured. Frustrated, Suenaga threw his bow away, grabbed a naginata and roared at the rowers to bring them closer to the enemy ship-  only by then the rowers were trying to push them away, fearing for their life. Switching ships again, Suenaga finally got his boarding action later that afternoon, in which he suffered another wound. To his pleasure, his name was the first from the province to be entered into the report for the battle.    His final engagement with the Mongols was taking part in driving them from Shiga island. One of Suenaga’s retainers and a relative were injured in that battle, and two of their horses killed. The Yuan fleet had it worse. Bickering between the Mongolian, Chinese and Korean commanders hampered them, while the soldiers from South China fought poorly, seeing little incentive to die for foreign masters in a foreign land. The lack of progress raised tensions, provisions ran low, and the fleet was on the verge of retreat when on the 15th of August, 1281, the sea began to churn. With a storm oncoming, the men loaded onto the ships and tried to set out for deeper waters. A typhoon, rising unseasonably early, punished the fleet design. The riverine Chinese ships of the southern fleet were annihilated, brought to the depths or tossed onto the rocks. The archaeological remnants found on the sea floor by Takashima island mark their deep graves. The larger Korean vessels designed for open waters fared better; whereas half of the southern fleet was estimated to have been destroyed, only a third of the northern shared the same fate. Survivors who made it to shore, on Kyushu and the neighbouring islands, were hunted down and killed, though some mercy was shown to Southern Chinese- their fate was to be slaves to the Japanese. So ended the second Mongol attempt to invade Japan. Kublai Khaan was furious and demanded a third attack, but we will discuss this in our next episode.   Suenaga, in typical fashion, mentions none of this once his part in the fighting was done. Suenaga’s scrolls were compiled between 1293-1324, and were concerned with his personal exploits and commemorating Adachi Yasumori, murdered in 1285, rather than an overall view of the campaign. The existence of the scrolls themselves is quite unusual for someone living well outside the capital, and were an expensive undertaking. Extensive battle scenes are portrayed, highly detailed armours, horses and dozens of warriors. While his position in 1274 had been humble, he earned himself a pretty penny after the second invasion, primarily through donations people made to a shrine he controlled, and lending seeds at usurious rates. When the farmers failed to pay back the loan, Suenaga seized their lands. For Suenaga, the scrolls were an expensive endeavour, requiring foresight generally uncommon to the samurai of the period. The fact the scrolls survived for us is remarkable: the Takezaki clan lost them in the late fourteenth century when fighting spread through their lands and the scrolls, among other possessions, were seized. They traded between families; at one point, their owners died during the Japanese invasion of Korea in the 1500s. Not until the 1700s did they begin to be copied, and in 1890 they were handed over to Emperor Meiji: today, they sit in Japan’s Museum of the Imperial Collections. If you have seen medieval artwork of the Mongol invasion of Japan, you are looking at one of the illustrations from the scrolls. A full translation by Thomas Conlan can be found in his work, In Little Need of Divine Intervention: Takezaki Suenaga’s Scrolls of the Mongol Invasion of Japan, and provide a fascinating look at a man who perhaps best embodied the ideals of 13th century samurai culture.    If you’re eager for more from us on the Mongol invasions of Japan, please check out the previous episode in our series, and the latest video on our Youtube Channel, Kings and Generals. Our next podcast episode, will wrap up our short series on Japan, detailing the consequences of the invasion on both the Japanese and the Mongol Empire, and its longer historical legacy. Once that is complete, we will return to our original narrative timeline! To help us keep bringing you great content, please consider supporting us on Patreon at www.patreon/kingsandgenerals. I’m your host David, and we’ll catch you on the next one   

In this episode of Expedition Odyssey, we learn about the history of the Mongol Invasions of Japan, get some first impressions of Ghost of Tsushima, and talk about visiting Tokyo, Japan.  Intro & Outro Music Composed By RomanSenykMusic.  News Music Composed By NSAT. 

Had you to guess a kingdom to offer decades of resistance to the Mongols at the height of their power, Korea might not have been high on your list. Situated close to Mongol dominated North China and first coming to Mongol attention at the start of the 1220s, it took until the beginning of the 1260s for the peninsula to be firmly under Mongol rule. Today’s episode will detail the long and devastating Mongol war in Korea and the final subjugation during the reign of Great Khan Mongke. I’m your host David, and this is Kings and Generals: Ages of Conquest.   By the 13th century the Korean peninsula had been ruled by the house of Wang since 918. Their kingdom was called Koryo [also written Goryeo (Gor-yeo)], a shortened form of the name of the more ancient Korean Kingdom of Kokuryeo (kok-ur-yeo) [also written Goguryeo] which fell in 668 CE. Both terms are the origin of the modern name for the peninsula. Smaller in scale than the empire of Kokuryeo, the 13th century Koryo kingdom’s territory did not extend much past the Yalu river. Staunch Buddhists, the Kingdom of Koryo was a major player in regional trade and commerce, and a centre of art and culture, and was a proud state. Successfully resisting invasions by the Khitan Liao and Jurchen Jin, Koryo entered into tributary relationships with both but maintained its internal autonomy, and unique worldview where the Korean King was essentially also son of Heaven, alongside the Chinese monarch who traditionally held the title. Similar to the contemporary Song Dynasty, military roles were subservient to the civilian classes and excluded from powerful civil positions. Despite the military being key to repulsing the Jurchen invasion of the 1120s, they gained no recognition, or promotions, for their efforts. Conditions worsened over the 12th century when revolts needed the military to be crushed. During the reign of King Uijong from 1146-1170, matters came to a head. More interested in visiting Buddhist temples than governing, under Uijong, corruption peaked. Government institutions were controlled by aristocratic families competing with the central government, the court was divided among factional lines and critics were exiled. These grievances fed into existing frustrations of the military leaders, ultimately culminating in a coup by the general Chong Chungbu in 1170. The King was dethroned in favour of a brother, and military leaders assumed most of the top offices. This was the beginning of a century of military dictatorship in Korea, its kings reduced to puppets. It was a system remarkably similar to the shogunate established at nearly the same time by Minamoto no Yoritomo in Japan, wherein the Japanese Emperor still head his title and conducted ceremonial roles, but real power was held by the shogun- though after Yoritomo’s death in 1199, real power was held by regents, the shikken of the Hojo clan.    Chungbu struggled to exercise his authority and could not fix the problems facing Koryo; revolts across the country continued and Chungbu was ousted by rivals in 1178, followed in turn by a succession of generals vying for power. It was not until 1196 when the general Ch’oe Ch’unghon assassinated the military dictator. A skilled and brave warrior, Ch’oe Ch’unghon was also a patriot, and saw the years of failed military rule as a disaster for his career, and for Koryo. Ch’oe was adept at political maneuvering. After assassinating the current dictator, he met the King and explained his actions. Gaining royal approval, his authority was established quickly. With support of the Korean King- whom Ch’oe Ch’unghon soon replaced- as well as key military figures, Ch’oe rooted out rivals, skillfully threw bones to military officers, civil leaders and literati, and revitalized the dynasty. Authority was extended through existing dynastic institutions, reformed to weed out corruption but ensured loyal men were in control of those institutions. Marriage ties cemented political alliances, and Ch’oe Ch’unghon essentially established his own dynasty alongside the royal dynasty. He was careful to ensure that alternate power bases to his own were undermined: government military forces weakened while he built up his own private army. Knowing how to champion Zen Buddhism and Confucianism, Ch’oe Ch’unghon masterfully manipulated his public image and public works. Allowing the King to focus on ceremonial and religious roles, Ch’oe’s tight lease on government meant that, over the first decade of the thirteenth century, he felt his position on HIS peninsula to be quite secure.   But like so many others, Ch’oe Ch’unghon’s plans were upset by a little someone named Chinggis Khan. The Great Khan’s invasion of the Jin Empire began in 1211, during which the Korean ambassador to the Jin was killed in the fighting. We have little information on what the Koreans and Ch’oe Ch’unghon thought of the rapid Mongol conquest of the Jin. During these centuries, the Korean kingdoms were always concerned with their northern border with Manchuria, where the Manchurian tribesmen, be they Khitan or Jurchen, invariably proved dangerous foes, crossing to raid in small parties or conquer with full armies. As Jin Dynastic authority collapsed in their Manchurian homeland, the Koreans watched the north uneasily. There, aside from the ongoing warfare, two new states were formed: the first was a Khitan Kingdom in central Manchuria, a “restored” Liao Dynasty made subject to the Mongols in 1212. The second was in Eastern Manchuria and Russia’s Primorsky Krai, founded by the Jin defector Puxian Wannu in 1215, which soon submitted to the Mongols. The latter is often called the Kingdom of Ta-chen, Tung-chen or the Eastern Xia. The frontiers north of Korea were unstable, and Ch’oe Ch’unghon expected trouble would spill over his borders sooner or later.   In 1216 as many as 90,000 rebel Khitans displaced by Jin forces overran Wannu’s southern territory. A few months later, Mongols accompanied by loyal Khitans chased these rebel Khitans from Wannu’s borders. The rebels’ requests to Koryo for aid were denied, and stuck between the Mongols and Korea, the Khitans chose Korea. In autumn 1216 the Khitans blazed through the Korean border defences. Skilled horse archers, the Khitans drove deep into Korea, menacing the capital, modern Kaesong. Korean military resistance contained them to the northern half of the country. Aside from a brief foray back over the border to gain reinforcements in autumn 1217, the Khitans spent most of 1217 and 1218 pillaging and plundering in the northeast.    Unexpectedly, in winter 1218 10,000 Mongols under the command of Qacin and Jala, with 20,000 troops provided by Wannu, arrived in Korea. The Mongols sent a simple message to the Koreans: they would crush the rebel Khitans, requested troops and provisions from the Koreans to assist with this, and then would enter into the same tributary relationship the Koreans had with Liao and Jin. After a brief delay in answering the Koreans acquiesced, sending 1,000 picked troops and 1,000 bushels of rice. The rebels Khitans were crushed, and Korea began sending tribute to the Mongols in 1219.    Korea’s first Mongol experience was relatively peaceful. Though forced to send tribute, their cities had not suffered. Ch’oe Ch’unghon’s advancing age, failing health, and desire to pass his rule onto his son stopped him from taking any provocative actions. A keen observer, he had judged the danger of this new foe, expecting the relationship would differ little from Liao or Jin tribute demands. Ch’oe Ch’unghon died in late 1219, and was succeeded by his oldest son, Ch’oe U. A military man like his father, an effective administrator and decisive leader, though not quite as cautious, Ch’oe U helmed Koryo for the next two decades. Ch’oe U found Mongol demands were downright rapacious, especially for otter skins, highly desired for their water resistant properties. For a people who lived their entire lives outdoors, an otter-skin cap was a valuable product. The chief Mongol envoy to Korea, Ja’uyu (Chao-ku-yu), was said to have abandoned the rest of the tribute at the border and just kept the otter skins!   As we’ve noted in episodes past, when Chinggis Khan marched west against the Khwarezmian Empire in 1219 his general Mukhali was left to maintain pressure on the Jin Dynasty. With Mukhali’s death in 1223, the reduced Mongol military presence in north China and with Chinggis still in Central Asia, the political situation across the region changed dramatically. The end of hostilities between the Jin, Xi Xia and Song Dynasties around 1225 we’ve dealt with already, but changes occurred even in Manchuria and Korea. There, Puxian Wannu renewed his independence and asked for alliance with Koryo. The Koreans declined, but made their own moves. In 1225 the chief Mongol envoy to Korea, the aforementioned Ja’uyu (Chao-ku-yu), mysteriously disappeared while transporting the annual tribute north. The Koreans insisted it was bandits, but the Mongols put the blame square on Koryo.    Ogedai Khaan was enthroned in 1229 and immediately set about bringing the region to heel. The Jin Dynasty took his personal attention and was destroyed by 1234. Both Puxian Wannu and the Koreans were also to be punished. Initially the new Khaan demanded Korea aid in an attack against Wannu. With the failure of the Koreans to comply, Ogedai ordered an invasion of the peninsula, the first of six Mongol invasions. Led by Sartaq-Qorchi, the army crossed the Yalu River in autumn 1231. The attack was overwhelming; the government armies were annihilated in the field and the capital surrounded. There was some notable resistance at a few fortified cities, none more famous than the defence of Kuju. Famed for a victory over the Khitans in 1018, in late 1231 through early 1232 under the command of Pak So, the city withstood weeks of constant Mongol assault. The most famous event occurred early in the siege. The southern wall of the city was defended by Kim Kyongson and a skilled unit of pyolch’o, translated as Defense Command Patrol, Extraordinary Watches or Night Patrol. These were local troops from outside the regular army, an elite militia specializing in guerilla warfare. Sending most of the unit inside the city, Kim Kyongson led a group of 12 picked men before the south gate. Telling them “not to think of their lives and accept death as their fate,” Kim and his men withstood four or five Mongol charges. Taking an arrow to the arm, Kim and his forces stood proudly and girded the city to further resistance;  Attacks were launched on the walls day and night: carts of dry grass and wood were pushed to the gates to burn them, only to be destroyed by Korean catapults; a tower built before the walls to protect sappers was destroyed when the Koreans dug holes through their own walls to pour molten iron onto it. 15 large catapults were driven off by the Korean counter artillery; scaling ladders were toppled by Korean polearms. Bundles of sticks soaked allegedly in human fat, set aflame and hurled into the city could not be put out with water, but were smothered with mud and earth. Another catapult team through constant barrage made 50 breaches in the walls, which the defenders filled back in as the holes were made. After a month of terrible destruction but no success, the Mongol siege was lifted, deciding the city was protected by heaven.   Kuju city and other select settlements outlasted the central government. Military ruler Ch’oe U came to terms with the Mongols in January 1232, and was so frustrated that Kuju had continued to resist that he wanted to have its commanders, Pak So and Kim Kyongson, executed fearing Mongol retaliation. Here the Mongols are said to have interceded, saying: “Although he went contrary to our orders, he is a loyal subject of yours. We are not going to kill him now that you have already pledged peace with us. Would it be proper to kill the loyal subjects of all your cities?”   Still, Koryo had submitted to Sartaq-qorchi in the first month of 1232. The tribute demands were massive. 20,000 horses, 20,000 otter skins, slaves, royal hostages and clothing for 1 million men were demanded, alongside gold, silver and other treasures. The demands were impossible to meet; within a few months the Koreans had procured barely 1,000 otter skins. 72 Mongol darughachin were appointed to oversee Koryo, and Sartaq withdrew his forces, considering the peninsula conquered.    The Koreans were less keen to comply, however. The demands were onerous; while they sent much in gifts, they were unwilling to send royal hostages. Ch’oe U organized sambyolch’o units, a sort of paramilitary police force of the house of Ch’oe. By the end of spring 1232, Ch’oe held a meeting of his top ministers to decide the course of action. In June and July, the plan was struck. Ch’oe U, the King and the court moved from the capital at Kaesong to Kanghwa island offshore, making it the new administrative centre of Korea, protected by the experienced Korean navy. Mongol officials in Korea were murdered and the peninsula was in open revolt. Sartaq returned in fall 1232, blazing a trail of destruction across the northern half of the country until he was killed during a siege by a Buddhist monk turned archer, Kim Yunhu. On Sartaq’s death, the Mongol army withdrew.   The Mongols were not done with Korea. The defection of one Korean commander, Hong Pogwon, gave them control of Korea stretching north from Pyongyang, which Hong was made the overseer of. In early 1233 a Mongol envoy came with a list of grievances and demands, among them that Koreans had to fight against Puxian Wannu- though this came to naught, as Wannu’s kingdom, and the connection between his head and his neck, were removed from the scene later that year by armies under Ogedai’s son Guyuk. After the fall of the Jin Dynasty in 1234, a quriltai was held in Mongolia in 1235 to determine the next campaigns. Attacks were ordered against the Song Dynasty, Guyuk, Subutai and Batu were sent on the great western campaign, and another army, this time under Tangut Ba’atar, was sent to Korea.    Tangut Ba’atar’s invasion in summer 1235 was hugely destructive; with the assistance of Hong Pogwon by winter 1236, he had penetrated some 470 kilometres into Korea. The Koreans were unable to field armies against them, and alternative strategies were developed to respond. Just as the court had fled to Kanghwa Island, most of the population outside of fortified settlements was ordered to flee to coastal islands or mountain refuges, where they could escape Mongol riders. Offensives were limited to guerilla warfare, pyolch’o units launching surprise night raids, ambushes through mountain passes and striking small parties. Hitting quick and hard and making use of their excellent knowledge of local terrain, these small units were actually more mobile than the Mongols. It was a frustrating way of war for the Mongols, and when the Mongols got frustrated, the devastation only increased. Fortified settlements were left to fend for themselves, and when they did fall, the destruction was horrific. The countryside was ravaged, the death toll horrendous. The guerilla tactics could harass but not stop the Mongols, who in turn, unable to strike directly at the royal court or military dictator, could not immediately bring the country to submission. Korean defections to the Mongols were enormous; and in many respects the Ch’oe rulers had chosen a strategy to bring the most damage to their people.   By winter 1238, the Korean court was willing to come to talks with the Mongols to halt the destruction.  Tangut Ba’atar withdrew his forces with talks ongoing and it seemed the Koreans would pledge eternal submission. As the Koreans feared, the Mongolian idea of negotiated settlement was a bit different from their own. Alongside the expected tribute demands, the Mongols required a census, the court could no longer stay on Kanghwa Island, and the Korean King, at that time Kojong, had to present himself to the Mongol court. For the military ruler Ch’oe U, this presented an issue. His legitimacy rested on him being the one to control the King; Mongol demands would remove him from power. Peace on the terms the Mongols wanted could not be accepted as long as the Ch’oes wanted to remain in control. For two years the Koreans made excuses on not sending the King, Ch’oe U trying to find some room to maneuver. Finally, a ploy was decided on: a distant relation of the King was made up to be the Crown Prince, and thus Wang Sun was sent to Karakorum in 1241. The Mongols found out about the deception…. Some 14 years later. By then, he was a loyal member of the Mongol court and even married a daughter of Great Khan Mongke.   With the royal hostage sent in 1241 and resumption of tribute, Ch’oe U achieved a six year truce. The Mongols still wanted the royal court to return to the mainland though, and their envoys grew ever more insistent on the matter. Ch’oe U spent the next six years preparing defenses, building elaborate fortifications on Kanghwa Island and readying militia units.  Buddhist projects were consecrated to secure heavenly favours; the most famous was the recarving of the Tripitaka, the Buddhist scriptures, begun in 1237. Often called the Tripitaka Koreana, this was a massive project, over 80,000 wooden printing blocks carved, requiring thousands of scholars and 12 years to complete.   Guyuk was elected as Great Khan in 1246, and decided the Koreans had stalled long enough on returning the court to the mainland.  In Autumn 1247 an army under the general Amukhan and Hong Pogwon invaded. Official orders were sent for the countryside to be abandoned for coastal islands and mountain fortresses; guerilla attacks were launched; the northern half of the peninsula was desolated. The death of Guyuk in summer 1248 and Ch’oe U in winter 1249 brought a relative calm. Ch’oe U was succeeded by his son, Ch’oe Hang, who proved not the equal of his father or grandfather. More arrogant and hasty than his father, he struggled to maneuver the complicated politics of Koryo and Mongol attacks. Within a few months there was an attempted coup against him, and his reaction alienated major allies, at a time when they couldn’t afford to lose a single one.   In 1251 Mongke was confirmed as Great Khan; driven by the need to complete the conquests, the continued independence of Koryo was not something he could abide. Again, envoys demanded the Korean King visit the Mongol court and abandon Kanghwa island. Again, excuses were made.  King Kojong was too old and sickly for such a trip, but they could discuss the possibility of considering sending the Crown Prince. At the same time, the Koreans prepared for the expected invasion. At the quriltai in 1252 wherein Kublai was ordered against Dali and Hulegu against the Caliph in Baghdad, forces were organized to attack Korea. Prince Yeku invaded in August 1253 alongside Amukhan and Hong Pogwon. Envoys preceded him stating he was there to find out if King Kojong was as sick as he said he was. He had six days to comply and meet Mongol representatives on the mainland. Kojong actually met with Mongol envoys on the straits across from Kanghwa island, and achieved precisely nothing. Mongol forces rode and burned across the peninsula, inland settlements were abandoned for coastal and mountain defenses. Pyolch’o raids attacked Mongol parties, and Mongols destroyed the cities which fell to them. Yeku was held up and fell ill during the long siege of Ch’ungju, ably defended by Kim Yunhu, the same Buddhist Monk who had killed Sartaq some 20 years prior. Ultimately, Mongke recalled Yeku before the end of the year due to his feuding with another prince. Amukhan and Hong Pogwon continued the campaign for a few more weeks, organizing a brief effort at amphibious warfare: seven captured Korean ships landed troops on Kal Island in early 1254, to no great result. Amukhan pulled the troops back in spring, returning in August with reinforcements under Jalayirtai Qorchi.   Jalayirtai brought a variation on the Mongol demands for submission. Now ministers and people had to shave their heads in the Mongol style: leaving only a tuft on the forehead between the eyes, and over the ears to be braided into loops. He also demanded Ch’oe Hang and King Kojong come to the mainland. Predictably, Ch’oe Hang was unwilling to do so. Early in summer 1255 Jalayitrai and Amukhan fell back to the northern border; by then, aside from years of destruction and abandonment of farmland, the peninsula was also in the midst of an ongoing drought. We are told in the first year of Jalayirtai’s command in Korea an estimated 206,8000 persons were taken captive. The suffering was horrific. Jalayirtai’s forces attacked again in autumn 1255, beginning a ship building program. Frustrated with continued resistance from the Korean court, the Mongols were considering assaulting the well defended Kanghwa Island. A sense of Jalayirtai’s frustration is evident in his response to Korean envoys in mid-1256. The envoys came asking for peace and Mongol withdrawal, to which Jalayirtai, incensed with pyolch’o attacks in the night, snapped “if you desire peace and friendship, then why do you kill our soldiers in great numbers?”   Jalayirtai’s movement of troops back north in autumn 1256 was no respite: in spring 1257, famine gripped even Kanghwa island. As Jalayirtai returned in the spring, it must have been apparent that the Ch’oes were hanging by a thread. Ch’oe Hang soon died, succeeded by his son Ch’oe Ui, who proved a very poor choice. His attempts to win favour by grants of food to the populace and court did not offset bad advisers enriching themselves and his own poor decisions. Alienating just about everyone in the court, the pressure of the situation finally led to a coup. Officers led by Kim Injun assaulted Ch’oe’s palace in May 1258. Ch’oe Ui tried to escape over the walls, but was too fat to get himself over. Caught by the assassins, Ch’oe Ui’s death ended six decades of Ch’oe military rule in Korea. Gaining the support of the elderly Kojong and handing out the wealth of the Ch’oe’s, Kim Injun made himself the new military governor. However, his position was much weaker than the Ch’oe’s had been, and still refused to submit to the Mongols. Mongol envoys who arrived in summer 1258 brought threats that they would storm Kanghwa Island, and in August Jalayirtai received further reinforcements under the command of Yesuder. Refusal to supply either the Crown Prince or the King was met with unchecked destruction across the Korean peninsula. If the Royal court would not come to then, then the Mongols would impose direct rule.  No matter how bloody the pyolch’o attacks were, they could not stop the Mongols.   Resistance broke in 1259. Revolts against military rule began across the country, towns and cities surrendered on the arrival of the Mongols rather than continue fighting. With food supplies exhausted, their military forces ground nearly to dust, in the spring of 1259 a peace deal was reached. The Crown Prince, Wang Chon, was to travel to the Mongol court as a royal hostage, the court move back to the mainland, and the defences of Kanghwa be demolished. Kim Injun was not removed but his power was considerably lesser to that of the Ch’oes. Organized Koryo resistance to the Mongol Empire was over. In May 1259, Prince Wang Chon set out for the imperial court, which met a hiccup when Mongke died in August 1259. Wang Chon decided to head for the court of Mongke’s younger brother in China, Kublai. There, he became the first foreign ruler to officially recognize Kublai as the next Great Khan of the Empire. In turn, Kublai provided Wang Chon an armed escort to return to Korea and be installed as the new king, as the venerable Kojong had died in July 1259. Kojong had reigned through the entire Mongol-Korean war, and it was fitting he died only weeks after it ended.   Wang Chon, known better by his temple name, Wonjong, proved a loyal vassal to Kublai Khan, marrying his son and eventual successor to one of Kublai’s daughters. Military rule in Korea ended in 1270 after a series of assassinations, and the Korean court finally returned to the mainland. With that, Koryo was a fully incorporated client kingdom. The King ruled in earnest, though with Mongol backing; when briefly ousted by a coup, Kublai’s forces came in and reinstalled him. Yet Mongol demands upon Korea did not grow any less burdensome; rather,. Wonjong had to mobilize the Koreans for another war, this time fighting alongside the Mongols. Koreans ships, food supplies and men were needed by Kublai Khan against the island of Japan, which had spurned his demands for submission. Korea was to be a launchpad for the first Mongol Invasion of Japan of 1274. To coincide with the release of the new SuckerPunch game Ghost of Tsushima which covers that very same invasion, we will have a few special episodes discussing this area, so be sure to subscribe to the Kings and Generals Podcast. To help us keep bringing you content, consider supporting us on Patreon, at (inset patreon link here). I’m your host David, and we’ll catch you on the next one.

In this episode, Leo talks about the two times when the Mongols tried to invade Japan, and how laughably they failed.

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Sometimes we need to show true bravery! Today we welcome a guest who will tell her story of bravery when she found a mouse in an unlikely place! The Pizza and Poetry Group travels today to the mystery country and is introduced to its cuisine, a glittering town, a mountain range and wildlife. You will need:Write down the following rhyming words on a blackboard, whiteboard, or on separate cards: pain, rain, train, mainThere are many directions in which you can go today as you research the mystery country! Here are some:The Town of Kraków (for older children - the Mongol Invasions of Europe in the 1200’s)Eastern European Foods: Bigos, beet soup, open-faced sandwiches (try making open-faced sandwiches for lunch!)The Carpathian Mountain Range - you can find them on a map/globe and then research the wildlife there! 3. Continue to practice skip counting in 2’s and 4’s, as far as your children can go!4. Find words with the “ai” chunk as you read lots of books today!5. On your next nature walk, what wildlife do you find? Do any of the mystery country’s animals also live in your habitat? 6. Continue to bake, letting your children do the measuring - especially if it involves ounces and pounds this week!

The crowd that had assembled was mighty. The princes, sons, and generals from across the Mongol Empire had collected on the Kerulen [Хэрлэн] river in September 1229 to elect Ogedai, third son of Chinggis Khan, as Khan of Khans. From the line of  Ogedai’s late brother Jochi, his sons Orda, Batu, Berke and more made the journey from the Qipchaq steppe; Ogedai’s two surviving full brothers and their children, Chagatai and Tolui (to-loo-i), stood present, as were the only living siblings of Chinggis Khan, his brother Temuge and half-brother Belgutei (bell-gu-tai). It was a huge gathering, perhaps the final meeting of many members of the old guard: the last of those who had fought alongside Temujin to unify the Mongols now watched as the reins of power were handed to the next generation. I am your host David and this is the Ages of Conquest podcast: The Mongol Invasions!       Chinggis Khan had died in August 1227. Two years had been needed for the appropriate funeral arrangements, for the various princes to return to Mongolia and preparations for the coronation. Tolui had been appointed regent of the empire during those two years, and despite some later rumours, there can have been little doubt as to the decision. Chinggis Khan himself had decreed Ogedai to succeed him, and there could be no serious thought of challenging his will. To quote the Persian writer Juvaini, writing in the 1250s, Chinggis Khan spoke thus:    “If it is your wish to pass your lives in ease and luxury and to enjoy the fruits of sovereignty and wealth, my advice, as I have lately given you to understand, is that Ogedai should ascend the throne of the Khanate in my place because he stands out amongst you for the excellency of his firm counsel and the superiority of his perspicacious understanding; and that the government of the army and the people and the defence of the frontiers of the Empire should be executed by his auspicious advice and good counsel. I therefore make him my heir and place the keys of the Empire in the hands of his valour and ability.”   To which his sons are said to have replied after kneeling before him,        “Who hath the power to oppose the words of Chinggis Khan and who the ability to reject it?”       Removing their hats and belts as signs of submission, Chagatai took Ogedai’s right hand, Temuge his left, and hoisted him onto the throne while Tolui passed a cup to Ogedai, symbolically showing the three main alternatives supporting him. Then, all in attendance kneeled three time before Ogedai, saying “May the Kingdom prosper by his being Khan!”, then exited the grand tent, knelt to the sun three times, and returned into the tent to drink and cheer: Ogedai was now ruler of the Mongol Empire, taking not his father’s title of Khan, but the older Turkic title Khakhan, “Khan of Khans,” often transliterated as Khan written with two ‘a’s.       So, who was Ogedai? Born in 1186, the third son of Chinggis Khan and Borte,  Ogedai was 43 years old when he became Khaan. Not as skilled a military commander as his brothers, Ogedai instead had a reputation as generous, easy-going and incredibly fond of alcohol. Unlike his surviving brothers, who could be unyielding like iron, Ogedai was one to compromise and seek solutions- and therefore stabilize the empire his father had created. It was Ogedai who famously constructed the imperial capital of Karakorum in Mongolia’s Orkhon Valley. Early on in his reign, Ogedai took to administration with vigour, not just streamlining but in many respects creating an actual bureaucracy and tax system for the empire. Compared to Chagatai, Ogedai was rather positively portrayed by Muslim historians of the period, who shared numerous anecdotes, although many of questionable verocity, of Ogedai intervening to save the lives of Muslims about to be executed for transgressing a law of Chinggis Khan, such as washing in a river. Of course, this is not to say Ogedai was a man of peace. As we will see in the coming episodes, the conquests continued rapidly on his orders: crushing the Jurchen Jin and remnants of Khwarezm, as well as driving into Europe in the 1240s. Ogedai could also fly into horrific rages and order slaughter and sacrifice: from sending 40 virgins to join Chinggis Khan in the next world, to a terrible rape of the women of the Oirat tribe to continued destruction in China, Ogedai could order the deaths of thousands just as easily as his father. Later in his reign, Ogedai found increasing solace in alcohol and withdrew from government, leading to his sudden demise in December 1241.        But in 1229, Ogedai was an energetic and ambitious monarch, one eager to prove himself a worthy successor to his father’s enormous legacy. Ogedai needed to not just consolidate an empire, but set out finding long term methods to rule one as well, rather than the temporary garrison occupation it had been to that point. Civilian administration had been completely subordinate to military rule. The general in the theater who held the highest office, such as Mukhali in north China from 1218-1223, had also acted as governor general. Being engaged in ongoing conquest at the same time meant that civil matters were secondary, and the population was subject to the whims of whatever local power had survived the Mongol onslaught, or been appointed to govern them. This often ended up an appointed general concerned with how to best mobilize their resources for the Mongol war effort or to enrich himself. Furthermore, Chinggis Khan had never established a system of regular taxation. Taxes were collected in kind, that is, in whatever goods the Mongols felt they needed for the war effort, be they animals, weapons, iron implements to be turned into weapons or food stuffs. There was no regular interval for this, nor a set level of assessment. Mongol parties came and took what they needed, when they needed it, and the local populations were thus exploited, suffering depredations well beyond their initial subjugation.     Upon taking the throne, Ogedai had several issues to deal with, such as the matter of how to accommodate the large sedentary populations of north China and Transoxania while completing the conquest of the Jin Dynasty and Khwarezmian Empire. The Jin were now based behind the great defensive line of the Yellow River, with new generals leading a valiant defensive effort, while in western Iran the son of Khwarezm-shah Muhammad II, Jalal al-Din Mingburnu, had reappeared after years in India, making claim to restore his father’s empire. Challenged from these fronts, on his ascension to Khaan in late 1229 Ogedai held a council to decide the courses of action to take.       Some choices were obvious: new military forces needed to be raised to crush these opponents. Chormaqun Chor-mah-hun) Noyan, a member of the keshig, the imperial bodyguard, was given a large force to destroy Jalal al-Din and subdue Iran. We will look at his campaign later in this series. In China, the Jin Dynasty, though reduced, was not yet broken, and had even reclaimed some territory in the years during the Khan’s absence. A final Mongol invasion of the Jin would be forthwith, though difficult, as their remaining territory was well fortified by the Yellow River guarding the north, and the great fort of Tongguan protecting the western approaches. The Chinese Song Dynasty bordered the Jin to the south, and while no friend to the Jin, they remained neutral in the war. Careful planning was needed, and we will explore Mongol strategy in the final war against the Jin  in our next episode.        The other question raised at this council was what to do with the sedentary populations, especially in occupied north China. For some Mongols, the solution was simple: an extreme faction led by a general Bedger (bed-ger) suggested the total annihilation of the northern Chinese, turning the now empty land into pasture for their horses. For some at the meeting, this was beyond the pale. One such was the scholar, Yelu Chucai. Chucai, you will remember, was a Khitan, a semi-nomadic people related to the Mongols who had once ruled China before the establishment of the Jurchen Jin Empire; though adopting aspects of Chinese culture in the following centuries, they retained their identity and many had risen up against the Jin with Chinggis Khan’s invasion. Yelu Chucai entered the Khan’s service in 1218. Having lived through the terrible siege of Zhongdu, he spent three years learning Buddhism before being called into Mongol service. His height - well over 6 feet, or 182 centimetres tall- deep voice and long beard down to his waist instantly caught the attention of the Mongols, as did his promulgations of loyalty, a trait Chinggis Khan always valued. Yelu Chucai accompanied Chinggis Khan west into Khwarezm, where he served as a court astrologer, scribe and advisor, building a network of contacts and a respected reputation among the Mongols, as well as a keen understanding of how the Chinggisids viewed the world. A great humanitarian, Yelu Chucai could not allow Ogedai to approve this genocide, and vehemently argued against it. His suggestion was to instead begin a system of regular taxation. Chucai knew that appealing to the Mongols’ sense of empathy would be fruitless, so essentially argued this simple tenant: kill everyone, and you’ll only gain their wealth once, but tax them every year, and long term you’ll make more revenue at less danger to yourself.       Ogedai was intrigued, and allowed Yelu Chucai to try out his strategy as part of the newly created Branch Secretariat for China. At the same time, a similar Branch Secretariat was established for the Islamic lands the Mongols controlled, headed by Mahmud Yalavach, a Turkic merchant who had been a part of the embassy to Muhammad Khwarezm-shah in 1218. Yalavach likewise instituted tax reforms and rebuilding, and Ogedai was  immediately pleased by the results. What Yalavach and Chucai did in both Secretariats was basically set up systems of regular, categorized taxations, though each with regional differences based on local tradition.    In his Secretariat, Yalavach’s taxes were on every adult male, as per Islamic tradition, while in time Chucai’s would align with the Chinese model of taxation based on the household, with different rates for urban and rural peoples. Streamlining taxation and reducing the numbers of minor officials and princes collecting taxes at whim meant that the revenues coming to the Mongol court increased significantly. Ogedai allowed Chucai further power for more reforms, and by 1231 Yelu Chucai was responsible for the administration of North China. Former officials of the Jin Dynasty were rescued to aid Chucai’s burgeoning bureaucracy, rebuilding efforts were launched, the power of monasteries were curtailed and fiscal obligations forced onto monks conducting business. Chucai had further ambitions, such as continued refinement of his tax system and hoping to reduce the power of regional princes to strengthen the central government. Long term, his intention was a return to his idealized, Confucian style of Chinese governance. You could almost say he looked to rescue the Chinese from Mongol rapaciousness, allowing northern China a chance to heal from the ravages of the Mongol-Jin wars. Chucai even managed to convince Ogedai to allow a census to be undertaken, something Chucai later came to regret, as we will discuss in future.        Much of Ogedai’s early reign was caught up with continued war with the Jin Dynasty, subject of our next episode but completed by 1234. Mongol victory there had been a long time coming, but Ogedai needed to continue his father’s work should he wish to step out from under his shadow. In 1235,  preparations began to be made for the Great Western Invasion. As you may recall, during the expedition of Jebe and Subutai, they had fought Rus’, Cuman-Qipchaqs and Volga Bulghars, all peoples who now needed to be brought under Mongol rule. By this time, the Mongols were increasingly supporting the belief in their united destiny to rule the world. Those who rebuffed initial Mongol demands for submission, or worse, fought and even defeated Mongol armies were an affront to the obvious will of Heaven. The Song Dynasty had made an unfortunate effort to claim, by force, the territory of the fallen Jin Dynasty, and now the south of China too fell prey to Mongol designs.        The scope of Ogedai’s empire was increasing dramatically year-by-year. Don’t worry, though, we’ll cover these regionally rather than overburden a single episode. Ogedai made adjustments to suit this expansion. One such was the expansion of the yam system, essentially a relay system to quickly transport messages across the empire. It was similar to the American Pony Express, except the Mongol system actually lasted longer than 18 months. During Chinggis’ reign, the yam  was confined to Mongolia, but Ogedai oversaw its extension into north China, the former Qara-Khitai and occupied Khwarezmian territories, tying these far flung corners to the central administration. The yam was made up of relay stations which a messenger could reach on a day's ride, quickly acquiring a new horse and provisions and continuing onwards to the next station. As Ogedai, much like his father, was concerned with encouraging trade he allowed merchants to utilize the system. To determine who could use what at each station, travellers were assigned with a gereg, known also as paiza, essentially a passport. The material the passport was made of -wood, iron, silver or gold- determined what provisions the carrier could access at each station, and allow them unimpeded or protected movement across this empire. Not that this system was without any issues, as it was the responsibility of local communities to provide provisions and animals for their nearest yam station, leaving them exposed to exploitation of merchants or commanders lining their own pockets.   To further facilitate these trade routes, Ogedai also ordered the construction of protected wells, security patrols, improved roads and bridges, all in order to encourage merchants to make the trip in Mongolia.  But Ogedai knew that merchants would need a definite location to carry their wares too, as well as a place for diplomatic envoys to always find the Khan’s representative: the extensive march of Qiu Chuji from northern China to Afghanistan to find Chinggis Khan was too inefficient to repeat. Partly for this purpose, in 1235 Ogedai ordered the construction of his most famous project: Karakorum, an actual capital city for the Mongol Empire. Once again, this may have been Ogedai expanding upon another of his father’s ideas, though the specifics are somewhat murky.    Chinggis Khan seems to have had a semi-permanent, but poorly understood, base at Avarga along the Kherlen River, in northeastern Mongolia where he spent so much of his life. Archaeologically, little remains of Avarga, perhaps being little more than a location to store loot and house envoys, or hostages, from the sedentary world. Two large mounds have been discovered there, and it has been speculated that each mound held a palace, one built for Chinggis and the other by Ogedai, though they were likely unimpressive structures surrounded by Mongolian gers rather than walls. More interestingly is that for decades, the site continued to serve as a cultural and religious destination, and thousands of burned animals bones have been found there, indicating large and ongoing sacrifices. Perhaps rather than palaces, it has been speculated that the  mounds were temples, and as the site had been associated with Chinggis it became a holy memorial to him.    Chinggis Khan may have not been totally averse to the notion of a capital then, though he may have seen them more useful as places to store treasures too inconvenient to carry with him. BUT, there is some evidence he actually chose the site of Karakorum and wanted to build a capital there: late Yuan Dynasty transcriptions and the Yuanshih, ‘History of the Yuan Dynasty,’ from 1370, assert Chinggis founded Karakorum in 1220. This is unlikely, as we know Chinggis spent all of 1220 campaigning in the Khwarezmian Empire. He did, however, pass through the Orkhon Valley, where Karakorum would later be built, on his way to invade Khwarezm in 1219. Entering the valley, Chinggis would have noted much to find attractive. Rich in water and grass, vital to maintaining the Mongols’ valuable animal herds, it’s central location in Mongolia also placed it in easier reach of merchants and envoys while still a safe distance from any sedentary foe. Further, it was a region of cultural and imperial significance to nomads, as the Orkhon Valley was associated with the capitals of earlier steppe empires and confederations , such as the Uighur Empire, whose capital of Qarabalaghun (Kh-ara-bal-a-ghun) had been built there. Qarabalghasun’s (Kh-ara-bal-gha-sun’s) ruins, or Ordu Baliq, are only 30 kilometres north of where Karakorum was built. It’s also the home of the famed Orkhon Inscriptions of the Turkic Khaganates. For an ever growing Mongol imperial identity as the masters of the steppes, it was a powerful political connection to lean on.    While Chinggis Khan may have designated the site of Karakorum to serve as the great capital of his empire, as we have shown in our previous episodes, he spent the remainder of his life on campaign or preparing for campaign. It’s doubtful any construction was undertaken on his orders. While Ogedai may have built on a site chosen by his father, what he built was entirely his own, and served as the administrative centre of much of Eurasia for the next 30 years.    Karakorum was not a huge city even by medieval standards- travellers to the city in the 1250s found a population of around 10,000 people. Separated into four quarters and surrounded by a low wall, Karakorum was an amazingly diverse city. Mosques, Christian churches, Confucian, Daoist and Buddhist temples stood across the street from each other. Markets were constructed for merchants travelling from across the Muslim world, while Chinese craftsmen built the imperial palace and later, captured artisans from Europe were brought back to further decorate it, most famously in the form of a silver tree with four spouts to pour various alcoholic drinks from. With its own mint for coinage, gold and silversmiths alongside blacksmiths and other craftsmen, it served as a major production centre. The major streets were paved with limestone, lined with wood to prevent displacement during the freezing and thawing cycles, and all atop gravel to aid in water drainage. A canal was even dug to bring water into the city and drive the water wheels of the smiths.   Many scribes and members of the bureaucracy could be found there, taking in messages sent from across the empire via the yam system and passing on instructions back. Numerous storehouses were built to house captured goods and tribute sent by subservient peoples, and it was to Ogedai’s delight to showcase his generosity by using this loot to overpay merchants several times what their goods were worth. This served as an effective means to encourage merchants to actually make the journey to Karakorum, which in contrast to a nomadic camp, featured amenities to keep visitors occupied and entertained. Limited agriculture was undertaken around the city, with evidence for wheat and barley, and one account mentions a proud farmer presenting his locally grown radishes to Ogedai. The city was not self-sufficient however, and at its height required hundreds of cartloads of food to be shipped to the city daily in order to feed it, something which came to be a major strategic weakness later in the century.    The Great Khan essentially used Karakorum as his office, and the city likely had few actual Mongols within it at any given time. Rather than actually residing in Karakorum’s palace, Ogedai and his successors continued to nomadize around the capitol, venturing within it sparingly as business or ritual commanded. Ogedai himself preferred another palace he had built in Mongolia, the Wanangong, or Palace of Eternal Peace. Having a fixed location to send diplomats and treasure was to the benefit of the empire, while also helping to rebuild the overland trade routes damaged in the initial Mongol expansion. Neither was it the only city in Mongolia at the time, though it was certainly the largest. There was also Chinqai Balasagun, meaning ‘Chinqai’s city,’ named for the able minister Chinqai, a former Onggut merchant who served as Ogedai’s chancellor. Built by thousands of captured Chinese, it was intended as a logistics base in western Mongolia to prepare for the great invasion of Khwarezm but had turned into a major farming and production centre, manufacturing goods and weapons for Mongol armies.       Ogedai’s early reign was marked by activity. New conquests were launched across Eurasia, an extensive new administration was created and a capital city built.  Perhaps initially uncertain of how fit he was for the position, Ogedai was eager to prove himself a worthy successor to his awe-inspiring and terrifying father.  The expansion of the Mongol Empire only continued under Ogedai, and his armies seemed unstoppable. Chinggis Khan bequeathed him a mighty army, but Ogedai built a political system to back it up. A number of historians for this reason consider him to be the true founder of the Mongol Empire. But the zeal was soon burned out of Ogedai, and by 1237 he essentially removed himself from most affairs of state.    With access to most of the alcohol of Eurasia, Ogedai busied himself by sampling as much as he could. His final years were swallowed up by constant drunkenness and without his forceful presence, corruption set in. His second wife, Toregene Khatun, began exercising her own authority, pushing to the edge reform minded figures such as Yelu Chucai and Mahmud Yalavach. This later period of Ogedai’s rule and his weaknesses will be investigated in an upcoming episode, but our next episodes will detail the continued conquests by the Mongol armies on Ogedai’s orders, beginning with the final destruction of the Jurchen Jin Empire. This will carry us onto the invasion of Europe, so be sure to subscribe to Ages of Conquest: A Kings and Generals podcast and to continue helping us bring you more outstanding content, please visit our patreon at www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals and if you want to help us continue to grow our audience, be sure to leave us a positive review on Apple Podcasts! Thank you for listening, I am your host David and we will catch you on the next one!

“For some years I continued averse from mentioning this event, deeming it so horrible that I shrank from recording it and ever withdrawing one foot as I advanced the other. To whom, indeed, can it be easy to write the announcement of the death-blow of Islam and the Muslims, or who is he on whom the rememberance thereof can weigh lightly? O would that my mother had not born me or that I had died and become a forgotten thing ere this befell! Yet, withal a number of my friends urged me to set it down in writing, and I hesitated long, but at last came to the conclusion that to omit this matter could serve no useful purpose.   I say, therefore, that this thing involves the description of the greatest catastrophe and the most dire calamity which befell all men generally, and the Muslims in particular; so that, should one say that the world, since God Almighty created Adam until now, has not been afflicted with the like thereof, he would but speak the truth. For indeed history does not contain anything which approaches or comes near unto it… Nay, it is unlikely that mankind will see the like of this calamity, until the world comes to an end and perishes, except the final outbreak of Gog and Magog. For even the Antichrist will spare such as follow him, though he destroy those who oppose him, but these Mongols spared none, slaying women and men and children, ripping open pregnant women and killing unborn babes.”    So begins the famous excerpt from Ibn al-Athir on the Mongol invasion of the Khwarezmian Empire. Living in Mosul, in northern Iraq, ibn al-Athir was just outside the range of Mongol armies as they annihilated the neighbouring Khwarezmian Empire in just a few short  years. Daily, news must have come into Mosul of stories of Mongol devastation and atrocities, suddenly Mongol armies were operating hundreds of kilometres farther west than previously thought, or how they were now doubling back, terrified townsfolk wondering if Mosul was next. The writers who lived through the Mongol invasion or just  after it, such as ibn al-Athir, Nasawi, Juzjani, and the most well known, Juvaini, all describe the invasion in near-apocalyptic terms, the Mongols a punishment sent by God. For how else, if not divine retribution, could one explain how every city could all fall so swiftly to these strange people from the north?    Today, we present the Mongol Invasion of the Khwarezmian Empire. I’m your host David and this the Ages of Conquests presentation of…The mongol invasions.   In our previous episode, we discussed in detail the period from 1216-1219, after Chinggis Khan returned from north China and entered into initial diplomatic contact with the Khwarezmian Empire. War between the Khwarezmian and Mongol empires came from three factors which occurred over this short period. The first was the breakdown and absorption of the empire of Qara-Khitai, which had served as a buffer state separating the two empires. Mongol forces under Jebe Noyan took most of the eastern half of the empire, while the Khwarezmians seized the territory from the Ferghana Valley westwards. The second was a battle between Mongol forces  under Jochi and Subutai against the Khwarezm-shah Muhammad II sometime in late 1218 or early 1219. And finally, the massacre of a Mongol trade caravan at the Khwarezmian city of Otrar by its governor, Shah Muhammad’s uncle Inalchuq. An envoy Chinggis Khan sent afterwards to try and solve the dispute was then executed by Muhammad. Coupled with the engagement with Jochi and Subutai, it seemed that the Khwarezm-shah had declared war on the Mongols, and with the fall of Qara-Khitai, now shared a border with them in what is now eastern Kazakhstan.       Though the Khwarezmian Empire now holds a reputation as a giant with feet of clay, this would not have been apparent from Chinggis Khan’s position. The Khwarezmians controlled a vast territory. Originally based in the Khwarezm region in modern Uzbekistan, south of the Aral sea, where their house’s founder, Anushtegin (Anush-te-gin) Gharchi (gar-chi), was appointed governor in 1077 by the final Great Seljuq Sultan, Malik-Shah I. Anushtegin’s successors expanded to incorporate Transoxania, central Kazakhstan, and south into Afghanistan, most of Iran and even Azerbaijan, though much of this territory south of modern Turkmenistan had only been taken since 1200, and Khwarezmian control was loose. Much of their military was Turkic Qipchaq-Qangli peoples from the steppe, fighting in similar fashion to the Mongols: horse archers, heavy cavalry, and supported by various Iranian peoples as infantry.  The Qipchaq-Qangli also made up a significant portion of the administrative and upper bureaucracy of the empire.    Having spent the early 12th century as vassals of the Seljuqs and then the Qara-Khitai, the house of Anushtegin showed themselves to be consistently ambitious and treacherous. In the 1190s, Muhammad’s father Tekesh, in alliance with the Caliph,  defeated and killed the final Seljuq Sultan Toghrul III, allowing Khwarezmian expansion into western Iran, but beginning their rivalry with the Abbasid Caliphs in Baghdad. The disintegration of the Ghurids in 1206 brought Khwarezmain rule to the northwestern borders of India, and the collapse of the Qara-Khitai due to Kuchlug’s usurpation extended Khwarezmian authority east into the Ferghana Valley.       With this massive expansion of the empire in a three decade period, Khwarezm-shah Muhmmad, ruling since 1200, could, quite rightly, feel he was among the most powerful sovereigns on earth, which may in part explain his haughty treatment of Chinggis Khan’s ambassadors. From the Mongol perspective, the Khwarezmians were acting antagonistically, and as a rapidly expanding empire, it seemed possible they would try and seize the new Mongol controlled territory of the former Qara-Khitai.       Internally, the Khwarezmian state was not as strong as it appeared. Since most of the empire was so newly taken, how reliable it would prove in the face of invasion would be questionable. The Qipchaq-Qangli in the administration and military not only mistreated the urban Iranian population, but many of them were essentially mercenaries, or held more loyalty to Muhammad’s mother, Terken Khatun, than him. Indeed, Muhammad and his mother were often at odds, and with Terken Khatun often issuing orders that conflicted with those of her son. Officers across the empire would receive contrasting orders from both, and would follow whichever arrived later. The antagonism between mother and son would hamstring the Khwarezmian defense.    Neither had Muhammad’s actions in the last two decades made him friends outside of the empire. From Baghdad to Delhi, the Khwarezm-shah had a reputation as greedy, unreliable and driven to conquer. Few tears would be shed for him, should he face calamity. Most of the contemporary sources lay the blame for the invasion squarely on Muhammad Khwarezm-shah, ibn al-Athir for instance, directly citing Muhammad’s conquest of the local kingdoms, leaving him as the sole defence, as the reason for the speed of the Mongol conquests. Most sources also cite his treatment of the merchant caravan and envoys, and present the Mongol invasion as something he brought on himself, and was equally unsuited to defend against.       With that background on Khwarezm, and the reasons for the war between the two empires, let’s get into the actual invasion, shall we?       Chinggis Khan made his preparations and set out in summer 1219. The general Mukhali with 20,000 Mongols, and several tens of thousand of Khitan, Jurchen, Chinese and Tangut soldiers, was left to maintain pressure on the Jin Dynasty, while Chinggis’ brother Temuge [te-mew-guh] was left with a small force keep Mongolia secured. The remainder of all available forces were to be taken west against Khwarezm. This was not just Mongolian cavalry, but subject Uighurs, Qarluqs, Khitans, and Jurchen horsemen, with Chinese siege engineers and doctors. 100-200,000 armed men are the common range for estimates, not including families and attendants who would have accompanied the army. Additionally, herds of horses and remounts for the soldiers, hundreds of thousands of sheep and goats to feed the men, and oxen and camels to haul wagons, gers, supplies and materials to construct siege weapons. The total animals brought may very well have approached a million.       Orders had also been sent for the Tangut to provide troops for the western campaign, but with the rise of the anti-Mongol minister in the Tangut court, Asa Gambu, they declined and told off the Mongol envoys. Now, this was not the cause for the later destruction of the Tangut, spoiler alert, by the way, as is often reported: the Tangut did provide troops for Mukhali’s campaigns, occurring at the same time. But it was the start of an insubordination, and finally independence, which would lead to the utter destruction of the Tangut state. But that is getting ahead of ourselves.   Shah Muhammad did not sit idle, and convened a war council at his new capital of Samarkand to decide the defense. One strategy proposed was by Muhammad’s valiant son, Jalal al-Din Mingburnu, who suggested the full might of Khwarezm should be levied and meet the Mongols in a titanic clash on the Syr Darya River, a formidable barrier where crossings would be limited. Muhammad balked at pulling all his garrisons north,  for in their absence his southern territories could assert independence. His fear at meeting the Mongols in open battle may have played a role as well. Ultimately, it was decided to spread garrisons across the major cities of Transoxania, Khwarezm and Khurasan: the northeastern frontier which would face the brunt of the Mongol assault, while Muhammad stayed south of the Amu Darya River to ensure the south of the empire didn’t rebel.    Though this plan has been criticized in the decades and centuries that followed, it wasn’t totally without merit. Just mostly. Attacks by steppe tribes were hardly new, but generally they lacked the siege equipment to take the walled cities of the region, and would contend themselves with pillaging the countryside. Muhammad assumed the Mongols would do the same, and in theory a long march without succeeding in taking any cities would smother the flame of Mongol wrath quickly. Transoxania, the region between the Amu Darya and Syr Darya, or Oxus and Jaxartes as these rivers were known in antiquity, marked the most important geographic barrier to the Mongols in the northern half of the empire. Crossings over each river were limited, and much of the expanse in between them was marked by the harsh Qizil Qum Desert. There would be reason enough to expect that it would slow them down, and perhaps even prevent, Mongol passage, or at least limit it to a few select routes which could be guarded. Unfortunately, Muhammad didn’t comprehend the significance of the experience the Mongols gained in China from 1211-1215, or that they now came west with a large body of Chinese engineers to build their siege machines, or that if the Gobi desert proved no barrier to the Mongols, then neither would the Qizil Qum.   Chinggis Khan’s armies reached the Khwarezmian border city of Otrar in autumn 1219, where the trade caravan had been massacred. With strong walls and a stout defence, Chinggis left a force to besiege Otrar while his armies split and marched up and down the Syr Darya river. Otrar fell after a difficult, five month siege, and its governor Inalchuq was captured. In famous tradition, when Inalchuq was brought before Chinggis, the Khan saw fit to punish him by pouring molten silver into his eyes and ears. It doesn’t often pay to defy Khal Drogo...I mean Chinggis Khan.    That Mongol armies split up after reaching Otrar proved a major issue for the Khwarezmian defenders: had the full force stayed encamped outside of Otrar, waiting to starve it out, the possibility was there that the Khwarezmians could bring their weight to bear upon them. But now, with Mongol armies ravaging both up and downstream of the Syr Darya, while keeping Otrar under siege, it was impossible to combine against them. Further issues came when Chinggis Khan himself suddenly crossed the Syr Darya and Qizil Qum desert: it had been expected he would have take the route directly to Samarkand, protected by a mighty garrison, while the Qizil Qum was thought too difficult for a large army to pass. The Mongols and their horses were sturdy, and they passed in winter with the assistance of local guides. In the early months of 1220, Chinggis Khan had appeared behind enemy lines. The towns of Zarnuq and Nur were the first Khwarezmian settlements to fall, shortly followed by the major centre of Bukhara. A sortie by the garrison was quickly destroyed, the citadel holding out only a little while longer. It is at Bukhara that Chinggis Khan, for the only time we know for certain, entered a city, and allegedly gave a famous speech, calling himself the punishment of God, if we are to believe Juvaini.   Bukhara’s population, particularly young men, were forced into the hashar: a forced levy used by the Mongols essentially as arrow fodder. Driven before the main army, Mongol lances pointed at their backs, the hashar would push siege equipment, fill in moats and be sent against the gates and walls of cities. In these highly exposed positions, they soaked up arrows which would have otherwise fallen onto valuable Mongol warriors; it served to frighten and demoralize the garrison and other populations; it made the Mongol army appear larger; and ground down a segment of the population most likely to resist later. Such multifaceted psychological tools were favourite weapons of the Mongols. The hashar of Bukhara and other settlements on the route were driven to Samarkand, the chief city of the region and Muhammad’s capital. With strong walls and a garrison of fierce Turkic warriors supported by war elephants, Samarkand would be a fearsome target to force. Chinggis arrived before it in March 1220, where he was reinforced by his sons Chagatai and Ogedai, who had taken Otrar and brought the captive Inalchuq. Three days into the siege, Samarkand’s garrison rode out to attack the Mongols, and were cut down to the last man. The city surrendered by the end of week, its citadel holding out until a nearby dam was destroyed, its floodwaters undermining its walls.    Craftsmen and artisans were put aside for Mongol service; women were taken as slaves; and the remainder were forced into the hashar. Unexpectedly quickly, the jewel of the northern half of Shah Muhammad’s empire had been snatched away. Near the ruins of Samarkand, Chinggis divided his forces again, divisions crisscrossing across the empire. On the advice of a Khwarezmian defector, Chinggis Khan had letters forged and sent to top Khwarezmian generals, making it seem that the Mongols were cooperating with Muhammad’s mother, Terken Khatun. This further paralyzed whatever still remained of Khwarezmian leadership. Chinggis sent his generals Jebe, Subutai and Toquchar after Shah Muhammad, whose courage had fled almost immediately. As Samarkand burned, Muhammad fled south.    Muhamamd Khwarezm-shah spent the remainder of his life on the run, Jebe and Subutai hot on his heels. Across Khurasan he rode, then northern Iran, where Terken Khatun was captured. He rode until December 1220 when the bedraggled Shah died on an island in the Caspian Sea, his final days spent suffering from pneumonia, awarding titles and lands to his sons. Titles and lands that were no longer his to give. So ended the reign of Ala ad-din Muhammad bin Tekesh, Shah of Khwarezm, whose actions signed the deathwarrant for many untold hundreds of thousands of people. Beside him had been his son, Jalal al-Din Mingburnu, who took his father’s title and would lead a resistance against the Mongols. This was not the end of Jebe and Subutai’s great voyage, but we’ll give that tale its own episode and focus on the main campaign here.   Once Mongol armies crossed the Amu Darya, the southern river of Transoxania, and Muhammad fled west, the fate of Khwarezm was sealed. The names of the cities change; the length of the sieges change; but the outcome rarely does. Cities that resisted were forced  open, their garrisons massacred, the populations enslaved. For strenuous resistance or the death of a Chinggisid prince, like that of Toquchar outside of Nishapur, then the entire population would be put to the sword, the city destroyed. These served as a stark message; resist, and you will perish. In contrast, those who surrendered immediately were largely left untouched. Often, they were ordered to dismantle their walls, provide food and tribute, and sometimes men for the Mongols and accept a Mongol appointed overseer, a daruqachi (da-roo-ka-chi), basqaq (bas-kak) or shahna (sha-nah), as they were known in Persian sources. Beyond that, the Mongols cared little for the internal affairs of towns, and they were left to their own devices. If they revolted afterwards though, as happened in Merv did, a spectacular example would be made of them- it is from these cases where we see stories of towers of skulls made from the inhabitants.    Did Chinggis Khan at the outset intend on conquering the Khwarezmian Empire? It is hard to say- certainly not even he would have anticipated how quickly the Khwarezmian defence would fail. Each city was essentially left to its own defence, ensuring the Mongols could surround and bring their weight to bear on individual sites. As Muhammad had fled, accompanied by Jalal al-Din, there was noone to organize any greater unity among the Khwarezmian amirs. After his father’s death at the end of 1220, Jalal al-Din and his brothers returned to the mainland, making their way to Gurganj, the original Khwarezmian capital. There, Jalal al-Din attempted to organize things, but some amirs, even in this crisis, refused to recognize him, as Terken Khatun had wanted another of Muhammad’s sons, a more malleable individual, to succeed him. With assassination attempts against him, Jalal al-Din abandoned Gurganj. Not long after he left, Jochi, Chagatai and Ogedai surrounded and destroyed the city after a lengthy siege.    Jalal al-Din fled southeast to Afghanistan, the former Ghurid territory which was his patrimony and where Mongol armies had not yet arrived. There, he was able to gather an army of Qangli, Qarluqs, Khalaj, Afghans and Ghuris, perhaps 60,000 in total. Jalal al-Din was a capable general, and led this army to defeat two Mongols forces. One of these, at Parwan, was a sizable force led by Shigi Qutuqu (tchut-oo-tchoo), the grand judge of the empire and Chinggis’ adopted son. The victory at Parwan late in summer 1221 set off a series of revolts in Khurasan, cities like Herat and Merv which had submitted previously, threw off Mongol rule. Chinggis Khan’s youngest son Tolui was sent to punish them severely for this. For Jalal al-Din, he suffered a catastrophic defection in his victory: a conflict over loot from the battlefield between some of his commanders led to one abandoning him, taking half the army with him. Unfortunately for the Khwarezmian prince, this coincided with Mongol forces converging upon Chinggis to march against him. Jalal al-Din, with now only half of his army, was to face the full might of the Mongol invasion.    Jalal al-Din attempted to flee to India, but the Mongols moved quickly, and caught him on the Indus river around November 1221. The Khwarezmian prince fought fiercely, his army backed up to a cliff over the river. Commanding the centre himself, even while his flanks crumpled under Mongol arrows he held firm, but fate could not be avoided. With a final charge, he pushed back the Mongols, then spurred his horse around, and in full armour, spear still in hand, lunged off the cliff into the river. Mongol archers rushed to the cliffside to send arrows after him, but according to Juvaini, Chinggis Khan personally ordered them to hold, and watched Jalal al-Din and horse swim across the river to India.  Then, turning to his sons he said:   “This is the kind of son that every father dreams of! Having escaped two whirlpools-  water and fire- and reached the bank of safety, he will commit many a glorious deed and  cause innumerable misfortunes. How can a man of reason but reckon with him?”   Chinggis Khan always appreciated heroic acts and Jalal al-Din, for his courage, earned the respect of the Khan. The other Khwarezmian soldiers were not so lucky, and those also trying to make the river crossing were sunk by Mongol arrows. The Battle on the Indus River essentially marked the end of the Khwarezmian Empire. Though Jalal al-Din escaped, and spent some years in India before making his way back to western Iran and resisting there, the state effectively ceased to exist. Most of Iran would be left in the hands of local dynasties for the next two decades, Khurasan left a ruinous buffer while Transoxania was absorbed into the empire, the threat of the return of Mongol forces hovering over all.    It is impossible to say how many were killed in the invasion. Sources like Juvaini often give grealy inflated numbers for those killed in certain cities, recording 2.4 million killed at Herat or 1.3 million at Merv, while another source gives 1.7 million lost at Nishapur. These numbers are certainly exaggerations, more to give an idea of total destruction than specific losses. It is doubtful that any city in the Khwarezmian Empire approached one million inhabitants, even when flooded with refugees fleeing the Mongols. Juvaini’s work will also mention 1.3 million killed at Merv, then have the Mongols return not long after and find another 10,000 to kill. It is also hard to distinguish how many were killed directly from Mongol arrows, or from the famine and spread of disease following the invasion. Many of the irrigation canals needed for sustaining agriculture around these cities were either directly destroyed, or had the people who knew how to maintain them killed or driven off. The starvation which set in following the reduction in agricultural production must have claimed many thousands.    Beyond that, we have mention of internal fighting, cities using the Mongol invasion as a chance to carry out old grudges, and following the Mongols’ withdrawal, the fighting between local dynasties, bandits and rebels would have claimed yet more lives. That many tens or hundreds of thousands of people were driven from their homes, fleeing the Khwarezmian empire entirely or carried back east as slaves, must not be discounted.    Gaining a truly accurate tally of the dead is impossible, but easily at least 1-3 million people were killed during, or because of, the invasion. It left not just a physical and demographic scaring, but a mental one as well, the Mongols becoming a byword for incomparable calamity even today. It is no wonder so many sources present the invasion in apocalyptic terms, though efforts at recovery and reconstruction under Mongol rule will be something we will explore in future episodes.   With Jalal al-Din Mingburnu’s defeat, Chinggis began the slow journey back to Mongolia. The campaign had been a victory beyond his wildest dreams, and it is at this point that the Mongols likely began to develop the belief that it was Heaven’s Will for them to conquer the world. For how else could one explain what had happened? Everywhere they went, military victory soon followed. The authority of Chinggis Khan among the Mongols was near absolute, though he still had the matter of the succession to deal with, as well as unfinished business in North China. Contrary to some statements, Chinggis did not immediately turn about from the Indus to attack the Tangut- it was not until after 1223, with the death of the general Mukhali, that the Tangut would openly rebel, and earn their own destruction.   Our next episodes will be discussing the great expedition of Jebe and Subtuai through the Caucasus and battle against the Rus’ and Qipchaq at the Kalka River, as well as Chinggis Khan’s final years, so be sure to subscribe to Ages of Conquest: A Kings and Generals podcast and to continue helping us bring you more outstanding content, please visit our patreon at www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. Thank you for listening, I am your host David and we will catch you on the next one!

In our previous episode, we covered the whirlwind campaign of Chinggis Khan and his generals against the Jin Dynasty of North China from 1211-1215. Chinggis Khan’s empire had been baptised in the blood of the Jurchen state, and before the fall of the Jin capital to Mongol armies in 1215, Chinggis Khan returned to his homeland. A lesser conqueror would have sat proudly on his accomplishments then, having unified the Mongols and secured a lifetime’s worth of plunder from the Jin. But Chinggis Khan was no lesser conqueror. Never one to sit idle, even while his armies continued to fight in China he sent others to wipe away old enemies and uprisings and expand the economic reach of the Mongghol ulus. Unintentionally, these efforts set him on a collision course with the Khwarezmian Empire, which controlled a huge swath of territory from Transoxania in modern Central Asia to western Iran. Today, we will be looking at the uprising of the Siberian forest peoples, the fall of the Qara-Khitai, and the Otrar Massacre; the prelude to the Mongol Invasion of the Khwarezmian Empire. I’m your host David and this is the Ages of Conquest: A Kings and Generals Podcast. This is..the Mongol Conquests.       Before we delve into today’s episode, we must mention upfront that  the timeline of all of these events can be a bit messy. They all took place in a short period between 1215 and 1219 and in an area most westerners have very poor geographic knowledge of.  It is testament to Chinggis Khan’s army though, that he could have so many forces operating in different theaters over vast distances all at the same time, all of whom could succeed in their tasks and return to him triumphant. So let us begin!       Chinggis Khan crossed the Gobi desert to return to his homeland in July 1215, his first time north of the Gobi since 1211. The Jin Dynasty’s capital of Zhongdu, modern day Beijing, had fallen the month before, and he must have felt confident his presence would not be needed in that theatre for some time. In his absence, continued operations against the Jin Dynasty were led by his general Samuqa, who undertook a phenomenal circuit across the Jin realm, crossing the Yellow River and approaching their new capital at Kaifeng, darting around Jin armies and crushing those he could outmaneuver. The continued pressure kept the Jin from occupying their fallen settlements, and Chinggis could now deal with issues back at home. The danger from his length of absence was that more recently conquered peoples would find it a chance to reassert their independence- which is exactly what happened.       By 1216, unrest had spread among the forest tribes around Lake Baikal, north of Mongolia proper and only recently subjugated. It had been simmering for sometime with the Khan’s absence in China, but was set off by one of Chinggis’ lieutenants, Qorchi. Qorchi had joined Chinggis decades prior, and had ingratiated himself with the Khan with a vision of Chinggis’ future victory, and had been in turn promised at some point along the way, thirty wives. In 1216, Qorchi was finally allowed to ride north to claim them from the Tumed tribe near the southern reaches of Lake Baikal. Qorchi rode into the main camp of the Tumed and, quite gracefully [sarcasm], told them to deliver unto him thirty of their finest women. The Tumed were at that point ruled by their chief’s widow, a proud woman named Bodoqui Tarkhan. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Tumed were pretty pissed at this, and promptly captured Qorchi.        Chinggis Khan was not happy to learn of this, but hoping to avoid having to send an army deep into the Siberian forests, sent the loyal chief of another forest tribe, Quduqa Beki of the Oirat, to use diplomacy to garner Qorchi’s release. The soft touch proved no more successful, as Quduqa was captured. This was a real issue, as Quduqa was not just a chief, but also an imperial son-in-law, married to Chinggis and Borte’s second daughter, Chechiyegen (chech-i-yeg-en). It was time for armed retaliation. Chinggis summoned first the Noyan, Naya’a, who fell ill, and the duty then fell to Boroqul. One of the Khan’s ‘four steeds of war,’ an adopted son raised by Chinggis’  mother Hoelun, a high steward, cup-bearer, commander of a part of the Imperial Bodyguard, and a long time friend of the Khan, Boroqul was held in high esteem, and sending him showed how serious Chinggis took this matter. Boroqul marched north with a small army, intending to carry out the duty of his Khan. Entering Tumed territory in early 1217, Boroqul was perhaps a little too proud after the successful war against the Jin. If the mighty descendants of Wanyan Aguda had been humbled by Mongol archers, how could peoples of the Siberian forest hope to stand before them? Boroqul rode before the main army with two scouts, where he was ambushed and killed by the Tumed. With their commander lost, the Mongol army retreated.       Chinggis Khan was furious. A personal friend had been killed, a Mongol army was forced back- this was an affront he did not take lightly. Further, the rebellion spread. Other people of the forest were now in open revolt. The Kirghiz of the Yenisei River refused to provide troops, and the whole northern frontier of the empire threatened to break away. Chinggis Khan wished to lead an army himself to crush this insurrection, but was talked out of it by his close friend Bo’orchu, and a strategy was devised. In a great pincer movement, the commander Dorbei (dor-bei) Doqshin (dok-shin) was to be sent against the Tumed, while Chinggis’ eldest son Jochi was sent in a western army against the Kirghiz, preventing cooperation between the various peoples. The plan was a success. Dorbei Doqshin avoided the main routes that Boroqul had taken, cutting his own roads through the Siberian forests to surprise the Tumed at their main camp while they were in the middle of a feast. The victory was total, and the Tumed were subjugated. Quduqa Beki and Qorchi were freed, Quduqa taking the Tumed chieftainess Bodoqui Tarkhan as a wife while Qorchi got his 30 maidens. 100 Tumed were sacrificed for Boroqul’s spirit and many others were taken as slaves. Finally, Chinggis Khan took his dear friend Boroqul’s children to raise as part of the imperial household.        In the west, Jochi was also met with success. Assisted by Quduqa Beki and his Oirat, early 1218 saw Jochi subdue the remaining Oirat, Buryat, Tuvan and finally the Kirghiz. Controlling one of the northernmost grain producing regions along the Yenisei River, the Kirghiz were a formidable force and valuable to have as subjects. This region was to be Jochi’s patrimony, the seed from which the vast Golden Horde would later grow. This was just the opening move of a larger operation, however. While 1218 was the defeat of the hoi-yin irgen revolt, it was also the opening of the first western operation of the Mongols, and for this we must backtrack a small bit.       If you recall, with Chinggis Khan’s unification of the Mongols in 1206, there was a group of Naiman, under Kuchlug (whooch-loog), son of the late Tayang Khan, and Merkit, under their chief Toqto’a Beki, who fled west, making a stand on the Irtysh River in 1208 before being defeated and dispersed. Toqto’a, the long hated enemy of Chinggis who had captured his wife Borte in the 1180s, was killed there, and his sons took the remaining Merkit to the far west, while Kuchlug would make his way to the empire of the Qara-Khitai, in what is now eastern Kazakhstan and Northwestern China.        The remaining Merkit, under Toqto’a’s son Qodu, fled to the Qangli, the eastern branch of the vast Qipchaq-Cuman confederation. The Qipchaq-Cumans were a loosely connected grouping of Turkic tribes inhabiting the steppe from the borders of Hungary, to the open lands east of the former Aral Sea. Chances are, you know the Qipchaq-Cumans best for their battlemasks with the moustaches, or as enemies from the game Kingdom Come: Deliverance, set almost two centuries after the events we discuss here. With Jochi’s forces already acting in the west and subduing the Kirghiz, it was seen as a good time to not just strike back at the Merkit, but give Jochi a chance to prove his own strategic acumen.       We’ll briefly note that there is some confusion on the exact timing of this campaign against the Merkits, as some sources date it about a decade earlier, adding it onto that Irtysh River battle, or a bit later, adding it onto the great campaign against Khwarezm. But it has been convincingly argued by scholars today, such as Christopher Atwood, for a dating of 1218-1219, just after the hoi-yin irgen revolt and  before that Khwarezmian campaign. We’ll use this dating for this episode.        To the Mongols, other steppe nomads posed the greatest threat. Enemies in China would be tied down by their cities, but nomads could always withdraw and continue to pose a threat. The chance of them being unified under a charismatic leader,  like Chinggis himself had done with the Mongols, was a real danger, and their very existence as an independent steppe people challenged the growing sense of Mongol legitimacy as the masters of the peoples of the steppe. That they were harbouring Mongol enemies, from the much hated Merkit tribe, was tantamount to a declaration of war itself. With the return of much of the Mongol army from China, this was a fine time to crush the remaining Merkit, as well as Kuchlug in Qara-Khitai, which we will get to shortly.       This operation in 1217/1218 is also the first time  the famous Subutai held a major command, though it is unclear if Jochi or Subutai was the overall commander. Meeting up with the western vanguard, Toquchar, they marched across the steppe into what is now western Kazakhstan. On the Chem River, near the northeastern shore of the Caspian Sea, Jochi and Subutai caught and defeated the Merkit-Qangli force. According to a biography from the Ming era Yuan shih, the history of the Mongol Yuan Dynasty, Jochi and Subutai then pursued the fleeing Merkit-Qangli between the Ural and Volga Rivers, deep into Qipchaq territory, and destroyed the remainder. Qodu was killed, and his son or brother Qulqutan Mergen was captured.   Qulqutan Mergen deserves mention for the following anecdote, which highlights the relationship between Jochi and Chinggis Khan. As we’ve discussed, all Mongols were trained archers from childhood, but Qulqutan Mergen was considered highly skilled even among the skilled; indeed, ‘Mergen,’ means archer or shooter. In Robin Hood fashion, the captive Qulqutan sent arrows into a target, and then split those arrows in twain with his next shots, to Jochi’s delight. Jochi sent a messenger to Chinggis, asking them to spare Qulqutan’s life. Chinggis however, despised the Merkit, his long time foes, and had to deal with rumours that Jochi himself was a Merkit bastard. Chinggis’ response was, as recorded by Rashid al-Din was rather typical for the Khan:       “There is no tribe worse than the Merkit. We have fought so many battles with them and  suffered untold trouble and difficulties on account of them. Why should he be left alive to cause trouble again? I have stored up all these realms, armies and peoples for you: what need is there of him? For an enemy of the state there is no place better than the grave.”       Jochi duly did his duty and executed Qulqutan and his family, but this highlights the tension between Jochi and Chinggis which would emerge in the following years. It has been used to suggest Jochi was less sanguinary than his father, whereas this highlights a mantra Chinggis had become well acquainted with in his own youth: an enemy who is allowed to survive will only continue to be a danger in future. Had Chinggis’ own enemies taken note of that, then he would likely have perished long before.       Jochi and Subutai had a long journey back to Mongolia, but their return was interrupted by an unexpected encounter in early 1219, with a large army under the Khwarezm-shah, Muhammad II of the Anushtegenids (Anush-te-genids).  Based in the Khwarezm region just south of the Aral Sea, under the Shah Tekish, and his son Muhammad II, in the previous decades the empire had expanded dramatically with the collapse of the Seljuqs, the Ghurids and the Qara-Khitai.    Ruling the empire since 1200, Muhammad had shown himself to be an ambitious, though not always patient, man. Styling himself ‘the second Alexander the Great,’ in 1217 he had made a failed march on the Caliph in Baghdad, was gobbling up the former western territory of the Qara-Khitai and had an eye on the steppe, where much of his own military forces and family came from. In early 1219 he may have been seeking retribution for Qangli raids, or to go after the Merkit himself, when his army stumbled into that of Jochi and Subutai. Aware of Chinggis’ interests in trade with Khwarezm, the Mongols asked for free passage. Shah Muhammad, a vain man infront of a very large army and not trusting them, decidied to attack. Reluctantly, Jochi and Subutai lined up for battle. Greatly outnumbered, they fought fiercely, though Jochi was nearly killed.    With nightfall, the armies pulled back. The Mongols lit fires to make it appear they were resting for the night, then withdrew under cover of darkness. Morning broke, and the Shah looked out at an empty battlefield. This enemy had fought fiercely, much fiercer than he had anticipated, and inflicted great losses on his army. It was said that the Shah developed a phobia of sorts towards facing the Mongols in open battle, something which would have major consequences for our next episode.       Jochi and Subutai returned to Mongolia sometime in late summer 1219, coinciding with major news which also reached Chinggis. But we’ll pick up with them later, and move our attention now to the southeast, where other Mongols forces had been busy.        Kuchlug (whooch-loog), the Naiman prince we’ve mentioned several times already, fled to the empire of Qara-Khitai after the defeat on the Irtysh River in 1208. The Qara-Khitai was founded in the 1130s, by Khitans fleeing the fall of the Liao Dynasty to the Jurchen Jin Empire. One Khitan commander, Yelu Dashi, took the Khitan garrisons from Mongolia and entered Central Asia, where his well armoured Khitan cavalry proved decidedly deadly. He subdued the eastern Qarakhanids (tchara-khan-ids), then defeated the western Qarakhanids and the Seljuq Sultan Sanjar in 1141 on the Qatwan (tchat-wan) steppe, near Merv. The defeat was a major blow to the already fragmented Seljuq state, though Seljuq control in Iran would last another 50 years. In the aftermath, Yelu Dashi controlled an empire stretching across Central Asia, from the Tarim basin to Khurasan. The Anushtegenids (anush-te-genids) of Khwarezm, formerly Seljuq appointees, now became vassals of the Qara-Khitai, as Dashi’s empire was called by the Mongols, meaning ‘Black Khitans,’ or ‘black Cathay.’  The Qara-Khitai have a fascinating history,  but unfortunately, not one we have time to go into here. Buddhists, with Chinese dynastic trappings, their empire was decentralized, with many vassal kings subject to the gurkhan, the Khitan emperor. Two of their five emperors were women,  ruling an ethnically and religiously diverse realm, and for decades harboured dreams of retaking north China, though they stagnated under the long reign of Dashi’s grandson, the gurkhan Yelu Zhilugu. The Qara-Khitai had been overlords of the Naiman tribes, so after the Irtysh River defeat in 1208, the Qara-Khitai was a natural place for Kuchlug to flee. Zhilugu saw Kuchlug and his retinue as a useful ally against his own vassals, especially the troublesome Muhammad Khwarezm-shah. The gurkhan bestowed titles, favours and a daughter upon Kuchlug, who repaid this generosity by raiding the Qara-Khitai treasury during Zhilugu’s war against Muhammad.  After a series of back and forth attacks, including an incident where Zhilugu sacked his own capital after it barred his door to him, Kuchlug ambushed and captured the Gurkhan 1211, and held him captive until his death in 1213. Kuchlug seized power, but proved incapable to rule the complicated state. Muhammad Khwarezm-shah took much of the Qara-Khitai’s western territory and butted heads with Kuchlug, who challenged the Khwarezmian to personal combat. The Shah declined. Kuchlug, originally a Nestorian Christian, converted to a violent strain of Buddhism, and began persecuting Muslims within his territory, alienating the empire’s urban population. The Tarim Basin proved especially volatile, where Kuchlug nailed an imam to the doors of his own madrassa in Khotan, and his forces destroyed crops every year until starvation quieted them.        In the northeast, near the Mongolian border, Qara-Khitai vassals declared for Chinggis Khan. One such was Ozar, a Qarluq horse thief who had risen to control Almaliq, and on his declaration of loyalty, had been given one of Jochi’s daughters in marriage. Kuchlug besieged Almaliq in late 1215 and killed Ozar, though his widow succeeded in defending Almaliq and getting a messenger to Chinggis Khan on his return to Mongolia. The death of a vassal, especially a son-in-law, was something to always punish, and Kuchlug’s usurpation of Qara-Khitai was a real danger. So in late 1216 Chinggis sent his top general, Jebe Noyan, [Zev, Зэв], accompanied by the Uighur Idiqut Barchuk and Qarluq Khan Arslan, to deal with Kuchlug. The speed of the collapse of Kuchlug’s state was shocking. Securing Almaliq, Jebe pursued Kuchlug to the Qara-Khitai capital of Balasaghun. There Kuchlug was beaten, but escaped, and Jebe entered Balasaghun unopposed. With princes of the realm now declaring openly for Jebe, Kuchlug fled through the mountains into the Tarim Basin, where he was still despised.        Jebe’s forces followed suite, and upon entering the Tarim Basin, sent out a declaration of religious tolerance: whoever submitted to the Great Khan would have their freedom of worship respected, a rather marked change from Kuchlug’s policies. The region then erupted: wherever Kuchlug had garrisoned troops, the citizenry fell upon them. Kuchlug was chased from city to city, many barring their gates to him. Fleeing the Tarim Basin, he travelled through the Pamir Mountains, eventually making his way through rugged Badakhshan (bad-akh-shan) to the Wakhan (wa-han) Corridor in northern Afghanistan, where he was cornered by local hunters and handed over to Jebe. With Kuchlug’s severed head on a lance, Jebe paraded it through his territory and gained the submission of whichever cities still held out. Thus ended the Qara-Khitai, years of anarchy followed by a remarkably peaceful Mongol conquest. With hardly an arrow shot, Jebe had greatly expanded the Mongol Empire westwards, returning to Chinggis Khan in 1219 with 1,000 chestnut horses with white muzzles- the same colour as the horse Jebe had shot out from under him in 1202.       An unforeseen consequence of this conquest was that this brought the Mongol Empire to the borders of the Khwarezmian realm. Shah Muhammad had had his own ambitions to conquer Qara-Khitai and had succeeded in taking some of its western territory- only to suddenly have the remainder quickly fall to this rising power in the east, while encountering them on his northern borders.       Yet, conflict between the Mongols and the Khwarezmians was not yet inevitable.  In fact, Chinggis Khan wanted to avoid, at all costs, war with Khwarezm. The first Mongol-Khwarezmian contacts were an embassy sent out by the Khwarezm-shah in 1215, passing the ruins of Zhongdu. Chinggis was happy to generously gift them, a part of a general Mongol policy of overpaying merchants for their goods. With a surplus of silver ripped from North China, overpaying merchants was a fine way to encourage and direct trade in the difficult overland journeys, especially into Mongolia, and would be a hallmark of Mongol policy for the next century. Initial contacts seemed promising between the two states, and Chinggis sent a return embassy in 1218 to reaffirm trade and friendship. By then though, most of the Qara-Khitai realm, the bufferstate between the Khwarezmian and Mongol empires, had been ground down by the efforts of Shah Muhammad and Jebe.        Muhammad was perhaps eager to find fault in the embassy, led by Mahmud Khwarezmi, likely the same individual as Mahmud Yalavach, a significant figure under Ogedai Khan. The embassy’s message from Chinggis Khan said that the Khan considered the Shah on the same level as his dearest sons. The Shah was furious: how dare any man, even a great emperor, consider the Shah of Khwarezm a son, implying the superiority of the father?        After the initial meeting, the Shah continued to grill Mahmud Khwarezmi, who, as his name describes, was a native of Khwarezm. Mahmud managed to calm him down by telling him Chinggis’ armies were pitiful compared to the mighty forces of the Shah, and that the Khan was only interested in trade. Shah Muhammad was pacified, for now.       This embassy had been sent ahead of a larger, slow moving trade caravan, about 450 merchants and their attendants, carrying precious goods.  Sometime in late summer 1218, the caravan reached the city of Otrar on the northeastern frontier of the Khwarezmian Empire. Otrar was governed by Shah Muhammad’s uncle, Inalchuq, who, possibly on the orders of the Shah or his own vile initiative, accussed the merchants of being spies, seized their goods and finally executed them, only a single camel driver escaping. This was a shockingly short sighted decision. Even if Shah Muhammad didn’t directly order it, he did nothing to discourage it or punish Inalchuq for the act. One possibility, suggested by historian Dmitri Timokhin, was that it was ordered by the Shah’s domineering mother, Terken Khatun, Inalchuq’s sister. Terken Khatun, a strong willed woman of Qangli origin, often actively combated her son’s orders, and acted as monarch in her own right in the original Khwarezmian capital of Gurganj. Perhaps seeing war as inevitable with the Mongols, with their swift conquest of Qara-Khitai, she wished to force her son to act.       Whatever the reason, it may surprise you to learn that the Massacre of Otrar was not the direct casus belli for the Mongol invasion of Khwarezm. When that lone camel driver returned to Chinggis Khan with news of what had happened, he was mad, but had no desire to lead a full invasion of Khwarezm while the Jin were still unconquered, and the Khwarezmian army seemed fearsome enough on its own.  Trade with Khwarezm was of greater benefit than conquest, so Chinggis Khan, in early 1219, sent another embassy, led by a Muslim who had served Muhammad’s father and two Mongol notables. War would be averted and trade resumed, they told the Khwarezm-shah, if he only sent Inalchuq to Mongolia for punishment. As far as the Mongols were concerned, the massacre at Otrar was just the act of a shortsighted governor.       Muhammad was in an unenviable position: if he didn’t give up Inalchuq, war would come to Khwarezm.  If he did give up Inalchuq, he would antagonize the Qipchaq-Qangli officials in his empire loyal to his mother Terken Khatun, pitting much of the administration and military leadership against him and undermining his rule. Thus, Shah Muhammad II of Khwarezm sided with his mother and made the fateful decision to execute the Muslim envoy, breaking the cardinal rule of diplomacy with the Mongols: do not kill the envoys. The envoy’s Mongol accomplices had their beards singed off by Muhammad, and were sent back to Chinggis Khan.  They returned to him after Jochi and Subutai had come with news of their own encounter with the Khwarezm-shah, and the message seemed clear. A powerful foe in the west, who now bordered his empire, had made opening strikes against the Khan. Ignore it, and he would lose face while leaving his new western territory vulnerable to Muhammad’s armies. With his general Mukhali having been committed to the Jin realm and able to keep the pressure on them, his northern borders secure and remaining rivals to steppe legitimacy destroyed by Jochi, Subutai and Jebe, Chinggis Khan raised his armies, and unleashed hell upon Khwarezm Having explained the background to war between the Mongols and Khwarezm, you won’t want to miss our next discussion on the Mongol Invasion, so be sure to hit subscribe to the Kings and Generals podcast and to continue helping us bring you more outstanding content, please visit our patreon at www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. Thank you for listening, I am your host David and we will catch you on the next one!

From the Events bracket we bring the devastating Mongol Invasions and the signing of the influential Magna Carta. Find out which one moves on over to the second round.Support the show (http://www.battlegroundhistory.com)

As the Mongols devastated the great capital of Baghdad, killing thousands and throwing the contents of its great libraries into the river, the Muslim civilization received a blow from which it would never fully recover.  This civilization would be permanently altered by the trauma of this destruction, from which a new center of power would emerge.

Following the Mongol Invasion of Poland, the Poles try to come to grips with their new reality. Do they decide to unite and create a unified state? No, no they do not. Instead, Conrad of Masovia takes the lead and attempts to conquer as much land as possible. Tune in to find out how that goes. Support the show on Patreon: patreon.com/historyofpolandpodcast Follow along on Twitter: @historyofpoland Follow along on Facebook: History of Poland Podcast  

At long last, the Mongol Invasion of Poland has arrived. They sweep in from the east, leaving destruction in their wake. Will Poland make a successful stand? Find out in this episode! Also featuring Hospitallers from France, the Hungarian Army, the Cumans, the Teutonic Knights, and pretty much every one else playing a role in Eastern Europe Medieval politics. Support the show on Patreon (and get the upcoming series on the Mongol Invasion of Europe): patreon.com/historyofpolandpodcast Follow along on Twitter: @historyofpoland Follow along on Facebook: History of Poland Podcast  

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Mongol envision of Russia. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

What's Good? Sac Anime is even better so we went again this winter! News   Made in Abyss sequel will be a movie titled Dawn of the Deep Soul. The Promised Neverland is set to have 12 episodes. Klonoa's film adaptation has been officially cancelled. Naruto Shinden (The New Legend of Naruto) novel is getting a TV adaptation that will air for 3 weeks, starting February 10th.   Sac Anime and My Sister My Writer Studio: NAZ (My First Girlfriend is a Gal, Angolmois: Record of Mongol Invasion), Magia Doraglier   Our logo artist!  http://turvytops.com/           Our intro artist! Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/tomnasr Instagram: @tom_nasr Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/user/SuperArmhair                Contact Us: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/instantramenpodcast/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/InstantRamenPod Instagram: http://instagram.com/instantramenpodcast E-mail: instantramenpodcast@gmail.com Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UChtwCC2BbsLxpgA1cE1PBtA Blog: https://instantramenpodcast.blogspot.com/

This week we discussed the first three episodes of Anglomois: Record of Mongol Invasion. Synopsis: In the 13th century, the Mongolian Empire rapidly expands across the globe. Later historians who studied the prophecies of Nostradamus would say that Mongolia was the birthplace of the "Great King of Terror", Angolmois. And at last, the force of the Mongolian Empire would turn their attention toward Japan... 1274: The Bun'ei Invasion. This story is a fresh look at the great battle that rocked all of medieval Japan: the Mongol Invasion. It shows how the people of Tsushima panicked, struggled, and eventually rose up against the overwhelming forces of their enemy. You can stream it on Crunchyroll.com or VRV.co

CC kicks off this episode by standing his ground against the mongol army in Angolmois: Record of Mongol Invasion and later wraps things up by joining the hunt for vampires in pre-World War II Japan with Sirius the Jaeger. Meanwhile John bares witness to a fierce stage play in Revue Starlight and dishes out some interesting background information about the type of musical theater this series is based on.   Reviews: Angolmois: Record of Mongol Invasion (1:30) Revue Starlight (18:55) Sirius the Jaeger (39:02)   Related Links: https://www.crunchyroll.com/anime-feature/2018/07/13/the-apocalypse-heads-to-japan-what-happened-before-angolmois https://www.crunchyroll.com/anime-feature/2018/09/06/what-does-the-word-angolmois-actually-mean https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mongol_invasions_of_Japan https://twitter.com/andrearitsu/status/1018943007922507776 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mIG8bWpwIpg https://kageki.hankyu.co.jp/english/history/index.html https://blog.gaijinpot.com/10-facts-know-takarazuka-revue/ https://www.animenewsnetwork.com/this-week-in-anime/2018-08-28/.135985     Website: http://animebrainfreeze.com Twitter: https://twitter.com/AniBrainFreeze Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AniBrainFreeze/ Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCSi7wbiBRei5RtNQ6HWBeaw

On this episode Miki’s Stopwatch is here to talk about anime, again! We pick our favorites from both summer and fall of 2018! Remember to send us emails! mangamachinations@gmail.com Follow us on Twitter! @mangamacpodcast Check out our tumblr! http://mangamachinations.tumblr.com Join our Discord server and come talk to us! http://discord.me/mangamac Time Stamps: 00:00:00 - Intro Song: “New Stranger” by sora tob sakana from Hi Score Girl, Opening, Introductions, manga genres that represent us best 00:04:24 - Whatchu Been Reading: Transition Song: Dragon Ball Z OST “Prologue”, Darfox is pleasantly not surprised by a tournament arc in Black Clover, Black Clover Quartet Knights manga on Jump+ promotes the new video game 00:07:44 - Seamus continues reading Seven Shakespeares and enjoys it 00:11:35 - Miki loved Kaiji: Against All Rules but thought the final arc was out shined by the first one 00:16:27 - dakazu and Miki give love for Tonkatsu DJ Agetaro 00:18:10 - A new volume of Kyukyoku Chojin R was released 31 years after the last one 00:20:21 - A manga about cults called Charisma was terrifying for dakazu 00:23:48 - Next Episode Preview and Rundown: Guest Gaiden with Amelia Cook, Amelia will join us for a discussion about positive and negative representation in manga 00:25:52 - Main Segment Anime Interlude: Transition Song: “Break In To Break Out” by Lyn from Persona 5 the Animation, We review anime from the 2018 summer season and discuss some anime from the upcoming 2018 fall season, Including: 00:26:34 - *SPOILERS* Angolmois: Record of Mongol Invasion 00:34:22 - Asobi Asobase - workshop of fun - 00:37:42 - Banana Fish 00:41:32 - Happy Sugar Life 00:46:29 - Back Street Girls 00:51:10 - Mr. Tonegawa Middle Management Blues, Ichinichi Gaishutsuroku Hanchou 00:57:20 - Isekai Izakaya: Japanese Food From Another World 00:59:07 - Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight 01:02:59 - Cells at Work 01:06:48 - JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind 01:11:41 - DOUBLE DECKER! DOUG & KIRILL 01:16:55 - RADIANT 01:18:41 - IRODUKU - The World in Colors 01:22:54 - Karakuri Circus 01:27:46 - Skull-face Bookseller Honda-san 01:31:34 - Goblin Slayer 01:40:07 - Run with the Wind 01:41:33 - As Miss Beelzebub Likes it. 01:42:59 - Zombie Land Saga 01:44:26 - Bloom into You 01:45:42 - Anima Yell! 01:47:02 - Ms. Vampire who lives in my neighborhood. 01:48:54 - SSSS.GRIDMAN 01:51:35 - Ulysses: Jeanne d'Arc and the Alchemist Knight 01:55:25 - New Chapter Updates: *SPOILERS* catching up on the finale of the New Years arc in BEASTARS 02:14:40 - Next Episode Preview and Rundown: Machinations Gaiden with Amelia Cook, House Keeping, Social Media Rundown, Sign Off Song: “wish men” by sunbrain from Beet the Vandel Buster

The Summer hits continue as the hosts of the Otaku Spirit Animecast dive into 7 more titles from the Summer 2018 anime season. How was the Steins Gate sequel? Was Seven Senses still a Anohana clone? Listen and get their take! Anime Reviewed in this Episode: Seven Senses of the ReUnion, Happy Sugar Life, Angolmois Record of Mongol Invasion, Planet With, Cells at Work, One Room 2nd Season, and Steins Gate 0. Following the spoiler free reviews of each of the shows and the outro music, we enjoy a spoiler filled discussion of Happy Sugar Life and Planet With. If you have not watched Happy Sugar Life, avoid listening between 1:39:15 and 1:53:24. If you have not watched Planet With, avoid listening between 1:53:24 and 2:07:46. The opening song for this episode is the OP for Angolmois Record of Mongol Invasion called “Braver” by Straightener. The closing song for this episode is the ED for Cells At Work called “CheerS” by ClariS. The song following the spoiler discussion is the OP for Happy Sugar Life called “One Room Sugar Life” by Akari Nanawo.

Welcome to Animania! Join Jack-senpai, Sarah-chan, Edwin-Sama, and Trevor-kun as they review and analyze their favorite anime. This week the lads shed their shirts and get drunk for uproarious Grand Blue before they watch what some thought might have been the action show of the season if you can see past that terrible filter Angolmois: Record of Mongol Invasion. Check it out! Grand Blue - 2.5/5 (the most contentious show ever reviewed by Animania) Jack - 3.5, Edd - 2.5, Trevor - 1 Angolmois: Record of Mongol Invasion - 2.5 (Good but skippable) Jack - 2.5, Edd - 2.5, Trevor - 2.5 Check the rest of the Tuscan Shed Media Network out at: www.tuscanshed.com Music: www.bensound.com

This week we take a look at the beloved children’s manga icon, Doraemon! Will Seamus and darfox find anything to enjoy in this manga for kids? Remember to send us emails! mangamachinations@gmail.com Follow us on Twitter! @mangamacpodcast Check out our tumblr! http://mangamachinations.tumblr.com Join our Discord server and come talk to us! http://discord.me/mangamac Time Stamps: 00:00:00 - Intro Song: “Boku Doraemon” by Nobuyo Oyama from Doraemon, Opening, Introductions, Thanking Listeners 00:02:48 - Whatchu Been Reading: Transition Song: Dragon Ball Z OST “Prologue”, darfox checks out anime Children of the Whales on Netflix 00:07:01 - dakazu ponders if he’s spoiling the anime to himself after reading the manga endings of Banana Fish and Angolmois: Record of Mongol Invasion 00:09:43 - Green Worldz was generic but fairly entertaining and was available on the now defunct Manga Box app 00:15:04 - News: dakazu hopes the anime adaptation of We Never Learn will get darfox raging 00:17:52 - Crunchyroll producing their own cartoon series High Guardian Spice has got us  wondering what the future holds for self publishing on streaming services 00:21:19 - There were plans for a Live-action Saint Saiya show called Star Storm that looked awful 00:22:23 - Next Episode Preview and Rundown: Triple Dip where we read the first volume of three different manga, including: Tokyo Tarareba Girls by Akiko Higashimura, Asahinagu by Ai Kozaki, and Tobaku Haoden Zero by Nobuyuki Fukumoto 00:25:16 - Main Segment Saikyo Selections: we examine chapters, long tales, spin-offs and fan endings of Doraemon by Fujio F. Fujiko, Transition Song: “Doraemon no Uta” by Satoko Yamano from Doraemon, we talk about the popularity of Doraemon, explain the history behind the manga artist duo of Fujio Fujiko, compare the variety of themes from edutainment to horror, complain about the coloring and translation of the kindle version, review a tribute story by Taiyo Matsumoto, discuss the famous fan-made ending, reminisce about the influence and importance of the series on dakazu’s childhood, and explain the changes to the anime cast 00:55:45 - Next Week’s Topic: Triple Dip on Tokyo Tarareba Girls & Asahinagu & Tobaku Haoden Zero, Social Media Rundown, Sign Off Song: “wish men” by sunbrain from Beet the Vandel Buster

The Summer 2018 season is stacked with many big titles and returning gems. Join the hosts of the Otaku Spirit Animecast as they dive into all of the shows they’ve seen and what they think of each one. Anime Featured in this Episode: Angels of Death, Angolmois Record of Mongol Invasion, Asobi Asobase, Banana Fish, Cells At Work, Chio’s School Road, Dropkick on my Devil, Grandblue Dreaming, Hanebado, Happy Sugar Life, Harukana Receive, Holmes of Kyoto, How Not To Summon A Demon Lord, Island, Lord of Vermillion, Music Girls, One Room 2, Overlord 3, Planet With, Revue Starlight, Seven Senses of the Reunion, The Master of Ragnarok and Blesser of Einherjar, We Rent Tsukumogami, Yuuna and the Haunted Hotspring, Encouragement of Climb 3, and Attack on Titan Season 3. The intro music for this episode is the ED for Island called “Eternal Star” by Asaka. The outro music for this episode is the ED for Attack on Titan 3 called “Akatsuki no Requiem” by Linked Horizon.

Herbei, herbei, liebe Leute! Die beiden Anime-Spezis Mario und Tim werfen in Diensten von Serienjunkies.de einen ausführlichen Blick auf die aktuelle Sommer-Season und sprechen dabei über Titel wie „Banana Fish“, „Angolmois: Record of Mongol Invasion“, „Hanebado!“ und „Asobi Asobase“. Warum Ihr den verschiedenen Serien eine Chance geben solltet und wo Ihr sie hier in Deutschland sehen könnt, verraten Euch Mario und Tim im Podcast. Wir wünschen viel Spaß! Feedback, Anregungen, Kritik und mehr könnt Ihr uns via Mail über podcast@serienjunkies.de zuschicken. Wir freuen uns auch über positive Bewertungen und Zuschriften auf iTunes!  

Bcom, Leo, and Kat return because the Summer 2018 season is underway and it’s time to kick off our first impressions. This episode covers the first half of our impressions for the season, focusing on shows that simulcast from Monday to Thursday each week. Stay tuned for part 2 coming later this week, which will contain Friday through Sunday’s shows, and our picks for the 10 anime we’ll be covering this season.Recorded July 31, 2018.Timestamps:3:18 - Dropkick On My Devil!9:13 - Phantom in the Twilight19:06 - Holmes of Kyoto 28:17 - One Room 2nd Season34:48 - Overlord Season 340:15 - The Thousand Musketeers43:57 - Back Street Girls49:47 - Mr. TONEGAWA Middle Management Blues56:12 - Angolmois: Record of Mongol Invasion1:07:08 - Commercial Break1:11:30 - Free! -Dive to the Future-1:23:30 - Steins;Gate 01:28:35 - How NOT to Summon a Demon Lord1:34:08 - Sirius the Jaeger1:46:02 - 100 Sleeping Princes & The Kingdom of Dreams1:48:31 - Banana Fish2:04:01 - Seven Senses of the Re’UnionTwitter: https://twitter.com/NerdomandOtheriTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/nerdom-and-other-nonsense/id1203061952Google Play: https://play.google.com/music/m/Iuqfigskscnxqhhatxmfyrec7gi?t=Nerdom_and_Other_NonsenseStitcher: https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/nerdomandothernonsense/nerdom-and-other-nonsense-anime-podcast

It's a cruel, cruel summer, so our hosts do their best to battle the unwielding heat wave with a barrage of cool Anime premieres in the Sneak Peek. After that, they dive into the absurd adventures of a Yakuza forced into the role of surrogate father and his telekinetically powered adopted daughter in Hinamatsuri.   Sneak Peek: Attack on Titan - Season 3 (2:18) Overlord - Season 3 (3:56) Free! -Dive to the Future- (4:44) Cells at Work (7:23) Music Girls (9:18) Seven Senses of the Re'Union (12:29) Island (15:15) Angels of Death (18:14) Planet With (21:22) Chio's School Road (23:27) Angolmois: Record of Mongol Invasion (27:14) Banana Fish (29:32) Harukana Receive (35:12) Hanebado! (38:22) Revue Starlight (42:20) Sirius the Jaeger (45:45)   Review: Hinamatsuri (49:05)   Related Links: https://www.animenewsnetwork.com/feature/2018-07-13/catching-up-with-free/.134232 https://www.animenewsnetwork.com/feature/2018-06-28/homelessness-in-japan-and-hinamatsuri/.133485 https://www.animenewsnetwork.com/this-week-in-anime/2018-04-24/.130750 https://www.animenewsnetwork.com/this-week-in-anime/2018-06-26/.133415 http://www.crunchyroll.com/anime-feature/2018/05/15/the-three-big-faces-of-hinamatsuri http://www.crunchyroll.com/anime-feature/2018/05/21-1/family-is-what-you-make-of-it-in-hinamatsuri http://www.crunchyroll.com/anime-feature/2018/05/17-1/how-anzu-gives-hinamatsuri-its-heart https://blog.sakugabooru.com/2018/04/09/production-highlights-hinamatsuri-01/ https://blog.sakugabooru.com/2018/04/30/production-highlights-hinamatsuri-02-04/   Website: http://animebrainfreeze.com Twitter: https://twitter.com/AniBrainFreeze Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AniBrainFreeze/ Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCSi7wbiBRei5RtNQ6HWBeaw

It’s once again that time of the year for our anime expert Miki’s Stopwatch to join us and review the last season of anime. We pick our favorites and also give quick takes on some of the new summer anime as well! Remember to send us emails! mangamachinations@gmail.com Follow us on Twitter! @mangamacpodcast Check out our tumblr! http://mangamachinations.tumblr.com Join our Discord server and come talk to us! http://discord.me/mangamac Time Stamps: 00:00:00 - Intro Song: “Duvet” by Bôa from Serial Experiments Lain, Opening, Introductions 00:01:58 - Whatchu Been Reading: Transition Song: Dragon Ball Z OST “Prologue”, Seamus tries reading some shonen manga with My Hero Academia, the newest volume of Shojo Fight has Seamus concerned 00:07:24 - Seamus gives his 2 cents on My Solo Exchange Diary 00:10:47 - Miki has some suggestions for what to do while watching Serial Experiments Lain 00:14:41 - (SPOILERS) dakazu talks about the end of Hoshino, Me Wo Tsubutte 00:22:29 - News: Kodansha has released Harold Sakuishi’s Seven Shakespeares, Kodansha will be releasing 10 Dance & Witch Hat Atelier, a new edition of Sailor Moon will be coming as well as a new anime 00:28:30 - the news of a live-action Mobile Suit Gundam reminds darfox of the last time Hollywood tried to adapt Gundam 00:35:25 - Kengo Hanazawa’s new manga Under Ninja will be about modern ninjas 00:36:52 - dakazu is very saddened by the recent death of Samejima, Saigo no Juugonichi manga artist Takahiro Satou 00:40:58 - Next Episode Preview and Rundown: Guest Gaiden with Morgana “Manga Maven” Rhalina, Morgana will be presenting her picks for upcoming and newly released josei and LGBTQ+ manga she recommends 00:43:02 - Main Segment Anime Interlude: Transition Song: “Update” by miwa from My Hero Academia, We review anime from the 2018 spring season and discuss some anime from the upcoming 2018 summer season, Including:  00:44:19 - Megalo Box 00:49:58 - The Legend of Galactic Heros: Die Neue These 00:51:49 - Amanchu! Advance 00:54:52 - Lupin III: Part V 00:56:11 - Captain Tsubasa 00:57:48 - Golden Kamuy 01:01:04 - Gurazeni: Money Pitch 01:02:11 - Magical Girl Ore 01:05:35 - Yotsuiro Biyori 01:06:35 - Wotakoi: Love is Hard for Otaku 01:09:23 - *SPOILERS* Darling in the Franxx 01:14:16 - Tokyo Ghoul:re 01:15:33 - Banana Fish 01:17:56 - Mr TONEGAWA: Middle Management Blues 01:22:24 - Angolmois: Record of Mongol Invasion 01:25:23 - Back Street Girls 01:27:11 - Yuuna and the Haunted Hot Springs 01:28:47 - Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight 01:30:39 - Hi Score Girl 01:33:55 - Happy Sugar Life 01:36:38 - Cells at Work! 01:39:48 - Asobi Asobase - workshop of fun - 01:51:20 - Next Episode Preview and Rundown: Guest Picks Galore, House Keeping, Social Media Rundown, Sign Off Song: “wish men” by sunbrain from Beet the Vandel Buster

Marco Polo's story of "Zipangu," the secluded island kingdom, abundant with gold, and Kublai Khan's attempt to take it all, is the subject of this episode. I talk about the two Mongol invasions of Japan and how their story has reached us.   Sources: The Travels of Marco Polo, the Venetian, translated by William Marsden, edited by Thomas Wright. George Bell & Sons, 1907.The Travels of Marco Polo: The Complete Yule-Cordier Edition, translated by Henry Yule and revised by Henri Cordier. Courier Corporation, 1993.Chase, Kenneth W. "Mongol Intentions Towards Japan in 1266: Evidence from a Mongol Letter to the Sung." Sino-Japanese Studies 9, no. 2 (1997).Conlan, Thomas D. In Little Need of Divine Intervention: Takezaki Suenaga's Scrolls of the Mongol Invasions of Japan. Cornell University (2010).Delgado, James P. Adventures of a Sea Hunter: In Search of Famous Shipwrecks. Douglas & McIntyre, 2004.Delgado, James P. Khubilai Khan's Lost Fleet: In Search of a Legendary Armaga. Douglas & McIntyre, 2008.Delgado, James P. "Relics of the Kamikaze," Archaeology. 56, no. 1 (January/February, 2003).  Larner, John. Marco Polo and the Discovery of the World. Yale University Press, 1999.Mass, Jeffrey P., ed. Court and Bakufu in Japan: Essays in Kamakura History. Stanford University Press (1995).Olschki, Leonardo. Marco Polo's Asia. University of California Press, 1960.Rossabi, Morris. Khubilai Khan: His Life and Times. University of California Press, 1988.Sasaki, Randall J. The Origins of the Lost Fleet of the Mongol Empire. Texas A & M University Press, 2015.Yamada, Nakaba. Ghenko, the Mongol Invasion of Japan. London, Smith, Elder, 1916. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Mongol Invasions

In this episode of the Piqued Podcast from Poland, a look at Old Town in Krakow. Some history, myths and legends of Poland's former capital city and a conversation with a nightlife veteran. Credits: Excerpt from Schindler's List (1993) Mongol Invasion of Europe - Part 2 www.youtube.com/watch?v=DY0eczetUTQ Daj Jordan - Violin Cover of Black Beatles by Rae Sremmurd www.youtube.com/watch?v=zIaMFD8eI4Q The Assumption of the Immaculate Virgin Mary, Body and Soul into Heaven www.youtube.com/watch?v=rlLUuD-4uwI The Krakow Party Guide by Tomasz Micherda: https://www.amazon.com/Krakow-Party-Guide-Nightlife-Accommodation-ebook/dp/B01GV9NXIY/ All feedback welcome: piquedpodcast@gmail.com Instagram: kareemmaddox Twitter: @kareemmaddox

Today's episode is here - http://realrussianclub.com/slowrussianpodcast/episode-26 Монгольская империя вторглась на территорию Руси в тринадцатом веке, уничтожив многие города, включая Рязань, Коломну, Владимир, Москву и Киев.  Всё началось на реке Калке, где в апреле 1223 года произошло первое сражение. Полномасштабное вторжение под предводительством хана Батыя началось несколько лет спустя. Все русские княжества были вынуждены подчиниться монгольскому игу и стать частью Золотой Орды. Многие русские князья предпочитали сотрудничать с монголами. После того, как Тверской князь присоединился к антимонгольскому восстанию в 1327 году, его соперник, московский князь Иван Первый объединился с монголами, чтобы сокрушить Тверь и захватить её земли. Монголо-татарское владычество над Россией длилось более двухсот лет. В этот период русские земли были разорены, а жители уничтожены или уведены в рабство. В результате монголо-татарского нашествия население России сократилось с семи с половиной миллионов до шести миллионов. Главным культурным центрам, таким как Киев и Рязань, потребовались столетия, чтобы восстановиться после разрушительной атаки. My YouTube - http://youtube.com/realrussianclubchannel  My Twitter - http://twitter.com/realrussianteam  My instagram - http://instagram.com/realrussianclub  If you like what I do, you can support me by donating with PayPal - https://www.paypal.me/realrussianclub    If you want to leave a review and don't know how, here you go: 1.Launch Apple’s Podcast app. 2.Tap the Search tab. 3.Enter the name of my podcast – Slow Russian. 4.Tap the blue Search key at the bottom right. 5.Tap the album art for the podcast. 6.Tap the Reviews tab. 7.Tap Write a Review at the bottom. 8.Enter your iTunes password to login. 9.Tap the Stars to leave a rating. 10.Enter title text and content to leave a review. 11.Tap Send.   Thank you very much!   Please subscribe to the newsletter on my website to receive FREE lessons - http://realrussianclub.com/subscribe  

In today's podcast we discuss whether the Mongol Invasion of 1240 had any impact on Russia.

Kublai Khan, the Grandson of Genghis Khan, became emperor of Mongolia in 1260. Northern China was already under his control and Korea gave him access to the sea, with Japan just 100 miles away. Five times, between 1266 and 1274, Kublai Khan sent emissaries to the Emperor of Japan, addressing him as "the ruler of a small country", demanding he pay tribute and become a vassal state. Five times the emissaries returned empty-handed. Dur: 18mins File: .mp3

In this episode, Travis discusses his experience as an intern at the Smithsonian Institute's Freer/Sackler Galleries in the Edo period book digitization program over the summer of 2011. He talks about the digitization process, as well as about the books and their binding and production, as well as why Japan never really got into using movable type in the printing process. He also reveals a little about what it's like in the Smithsonian's top-secret underground storage facilities. But not too much. The Digitization Project description page: http://www.asia.si.edu/research/curatorial/pulvererInterns.asp The Freer/Sackler Gallery Website: http://www.asia.si.edu/ Ikegami, Eiko. Bonds of Civility Cambridge University Press (February 28, 2005) http://astore.amazon.com/samurai-20/detail/0521601150 Screech, Timon. Sex and the Floating World Reaktion Books; Second Edition edition (November 15, 2009) http://astore.amazon.com/samurai-20/detail/1861894325 Scrolls of the Mongol Invasions of Japan Website: http://www.bowdoin.edu/mongol-scrolls/ Travis's Flickr photostream: http://www.flickr.com/photos/toranosuke/tags/freer/ Support this podcast: Shop Amazon.com, suport the podcast: http://amzn.to/wnDX2j Samurai Archives Bookstore: http://astore.amazon.com/samurai-20 Samurai Archives Shop (T-Shirts, etc) http://www.cafepress.com/samuraiarchives Contact Us: Twitter @SamuraiArchives https://twitter.com/#!/samuraiarchives Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Samurai-Archives/104533213984 Samurai Archives podcast blog: http://www.samuraipodcast.com Samurai Archives Forum: http://www.japanhistoryforum.com

Part nine of our Introduction to Japanese History series gives a brief overview of the two attempted Mongol Invasions of Japan during the 13th century, and the effect it had on the country in general, and the Hojo regents and Bakufu specifically. Mentioned in this podcast: Conlan, Thomas. In Little Need of Divine Intervention: Takezaki Suenaga's Scrolls of the Mongol Invasions of Japan Cornell Univ East Asia Program (August 2002) http://astore.amazon.com/samurai-20/detail/188544513X Sansom, George. A History of Japan to 1334 Stanford University Press; 1 edition (June 1, 1958) http://astore.amazon.com/samurai-20/detail/0804705232 Scrolls of the Mongol Invasions of Japan, from Bowdoin College: http://www.bowdoin.edu/mongol-scrolls/ Support this podcast: Shop Amazon.com, suport the podcast: http://amzn.to/wnDX2j Samurai Archives Bookstore: http://astore.amazon.com/samurai-20 Samurai Archives Shop (T-Shirts, etc) http://www.cafepress.com/samuraiarchives Contact Us: Twitter @SamuraiArchives https://twitter.com/#!/samuraiarchives Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Samurai-Archives/104533213984 Samurai Archives podcast blog: http://www.samuraipodcast.com Samurai Archives Forum: http://www.japanhistoryforum.com