Death and Succession
Abaqa died at Hamadan on 1 April 1282, probably in a state of delirium tremens. This illness was probably caused by too much consumption of alcohol, a habit common to many Mongol leaders. However, in 1285, his minister of finance Shams ad-Din Juvayni was accused of having him poisoned.
After Abaqa's death, his widow Maria fled back to Constantinople where her father, apparently wishing to spare his capital the fate that befell Baghdad, tried to marry her off again to another Mongol khan. Maria could not accept the offer, became a nun, and founded the church of Panagia Mouchliotissa around 1285.
Abaqa was succeeded by his brother Tekuder, who despite his earlier conflicts with the Egyptian Mamluks, had converted to Islam. Tekuder reversed Abaqa's pro-Christian policies and proposed an alliance with the Mamluk Sultan Qalawun, who resumed attacks on Frankish territory, capturing the northern fortress of Margat in 1285, Lattakia in 1287, and Tripoli in 1289. In 1284, Abaqa's son Arghun led a successful revolt, backed by Kublai. Arghun had his uncle Tekuder executed and took power himself, returning to the pro-Christian policies of Abaqa.
A younger son, Gaykhatu, assumed the throne in 1291.
Read more about this topic: Abaqa Khan
Famous quotes containing the words death and, death and/or succession:
“I don’t know much about death and the sorriest lesson I’ve learned is that words, my most trusted guardians against chaos, offer small comfort in the face of anyone’s dying.”
—Alison Hawthorne Deming (b. 1946)
“your antlers like seaweed,
your face like a wolf’s death mask,
your mouth a virgin, your nose a nipple,
your legs muscled up like knitting balls,
your neck mournful as an axe....”
—Anne Sexton (1928–1974)
“We then entered another swamp, at a necessarily slow pace, where the walking was worse than ever, not only on account of the water, but the fallen timber, which often obliterated the indistinct trail entirely. The fallen trees were so numerous, that for long distances the route was through a succession of small yards, where we climbed over fences as high as our heads, down into water often up to our knees, and then over another fence into a second yard, and so on.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)