The History of China - #102 - AnShi 2: Song of Everlasting Sorrow

Episode Date: June 30, 2016

An Lushan marches south, occupying Louyang with blinding speed and leaving the Tang Dynasty reeling. Still, ultimately the tide seems ready to turn against the rebel general and self-styled-Emperor of Yan, until Chancellor Yang Guozhong's bungling ruins absolutely everything. Time Period Covered: Jan-July, 756 Major Historical Actors: Tang Dynasty: Emperor Xuanzong of Tang Chancellor Yang Guozhong (d. 756) Consort Yang Guifei (d. 756) Crowned Prince Li Heng General Feng Chengqian (d. 756) General Gao Xianzhi (d. 756) General Geshu Han Dongan Protectorate/Yang Dynasty: An Lushan An Qingzong (d. 756) Major Works Cited: Abramson, Marc S. (2008). Ethnic Identity in Tang China. Chamney, Lee (2012). “The An Shi Rebellion and Rejection of the Other in Tang China, 618-763.” University of Alberta. Pulleyblank, Edwin G. (1976). “The An Lu-Shan Rebellion and the Origins of Chronic Militarism in Late T’ang China” in Essays on Tʻang Society: The Interplay of Social, Political and Economic Forces. Twitchett, Denis. “End of the Reign” in The Cambridge History of China, vol. 3.De la Vaissière, Étienne, (tr.) James Ward (2002). Sogdian Traders: A History. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Episode 102, Song of Everlasting Sorrow Last time, we watched the build-up to rebellion by the Governor-General of the Northeast, An Lushan, and his 200,000-strong army. We left off with his raising his banners in official rebellion against the Tang Empire, under the pretense of him having received a secret missive from Emperor Xuanzong, requesting his aid in overthrowing the imperial chancellor, Yang Guozhong, who had long been General An's personal nemesis. Today, we're going to follow the warpath,

as the army of An Lushan plunges southward from their starting point at Fanyang, what is today Beijing, and makes a beeline for the secondary capital of the empire, Luoyang. You could certainly be forgiven, on the tail end of last week's episode describing the building pressure leading towards the revolt, for thinking that either Emperor Shenzong, who by 755 was pretty sure General An was going to rebel, or that Chancellor Yang, who had been screaming bloody murder

in the Emperor's ear for a period of some three years by this point that he's obviously going to rebel, you might think that between the two of them, at least one might have taken some sort of military precaution against what was about to happen. However, you'd be wrong. And to the contrary, the entirety of the Tang Empire was caught almost ridiculously flat-footed when An Lushan decided to mobilize against the throne. And there were some good reasons for that, to be sure. It wasn't just a case of total bureaucratic incompetence. The other protectorate armies to the west and

the south were at the moment tied up fighting, and often as not losing, to their own border disputes. And plus, they were border armies. You know, on the borders. Taking them away to guard against a phantom threat wasn't really in the cards. But what about the central imperial army, which is dubbed the Northern Army? Well, again, as we discussed last episode, Emperor Xuanzang had good reason to keep them at arm's length at all times. Their whole command structure, he knew, could not be trusted with his personal defense. It had only been a few years, after all, since his son and heir's plot with the Northern Army's senior command staff to overthrow him had come to light. And though he had ruthlessly purged any and all officers implicated in the plotted coup,

he was intelligent enough to know that he probably hadn't rooted them all out yet, and that his son, the Crown Prince Li Heng, was ever waiting in the wings, just out of reach, to make his play for the throne once again. So when word had reached Chang'an and the emperor that his longtime friend and ally, Han Lushan, had indeed raised his flags in rebellion, there were precious few options for him to choose from. But I should pause here and say that while bureaucratic bungling was not the only reason for any lack of real opposition to his initial campaign,

that's certainly not to say that we ought to discount it entirely. Much to the contrary, Chancellor Yang Guozhong counseled Xuanzang that he was confident that this little rebellion would burn itself out in a matter of a few days, and that General An led a host of men, yes, but ones that followed him only unwillingly. Show them the flag, sire. Let them taste real battle, and they'll turn on Lushan faster than you can cook a bowl of rice. The sheer willfully blind stupidity of this statement should be immediately obvious. Yang had been counseling the throne for years, again, that it was only a matter of time before General An rebelled. Yet now here it was, playing out, and he's brushing it off as though

it's not even that big of a deal or worth concerning oneself over? Moreover, An's troops weren't some green brigade of raw recruits. This was the battle-hardened Andong Protectorate army, grizzled, seasoned veterans who had cut their teeth fighting the hordes of Khitan and Xi tribesmen, and who must have nearly to a man placed their lives into An Lushan's hands time and again in the service of victory. Those colors weren't about to cut and run at the first drop of blood. Granted, there were a fair number who did refuse the call to take up arms against the throne. Chamni, for instance, points out that of the 150,000 men cited in the Old Book of Tang, some 20,000 purportedly defected and refused their commander's order to mobilize

southward. For the emperor's own part, he was initially stunned at the news and inclined to not even believe, even now, that his longtime trusted friend had actually declared against him. Nevertheless, after this initial spell of dumbfoundedness, he did pretty much the only thing that he could do. He dispatched a contingent of generals whose loyalty was beyond question, although that surely must have seemed a dubious proposition by this point, to ride as fast as they could to Luoyang and to southern Hebei to raise levies and conscript and train troops to prepare to confront An's army. One of those generals was a man named Feng Changqing, who had just returned from a tour

of duty in the far west Anshi protectorate in the Tarim Basin, and whom you may recall we briefly discussed in our episode on the Battle of Talis. General Feng was tasked with preparing the defenses of Luoyang against the storm that was about to descend upon it, and to that end he conscripted a force of some 60,000 recruits from the secondary capital and its surrounding territory. This very green force then proceeded to destroy the main bridge across the Yellow River in order to halt the rebels' impending advance against the city, and then sent a force to harass and attempt to slow down An Lushan's rapid advance. Burning the bridge was a good idea, and surely vexed An Lushan's initial goal of marching directly on Luoyang, but he seems to

have had a direct counter in mind even as he found out the main crossing had been destroyed. But first, just how fast is fast? When I say he rapidly advanced southward across Hebei, what does that mean? It's a fair question, since our modern idea of a rapid military advance is rather different than what would have been typical of an 8th century army. We have tanks, and planes, and armored personnel carriers which allow, for instance, the German Wehrmacht in the Second World War to successfully invade and occupy France in one and a half months, or more recently the American-led coalition forces to overrun the Iraqi army of Saddam Hussein in 2003 in a mere month and a week. So how did the army of An Lushan, operating some 1300 years prior and whose fastest, most effective troop carrier was the horse, stack up?

I'll let Pulleybank take it from here. Quote, An Lushan began his march south from Fanyang, present Beijing, on the auspicious Jiazi Day of the 11th month after the 14th year of Tianbao era, or December 16th, 755. After crossing the Yellow River on an improvised bridge at a point near Hua Xian, he entered Luoyang on January 18, 756, 33 days after setting out. So no, he didn't manage to quite take the king piece in 33 days, just the queen piece. Still,

it is phenomenal to think that either An Lushan's force was just that overwhelming, or more likely the Tang Empire's defenses were that unprepared, that the Dong'an Protective Army was able to operate on an invasion timetable commensurate with Second World War and even modern American military timetables. Prior to this, though, one of the preliminary cities he took as a prelude to crossing the Yellow River was a place called Bianzhou, which is today a part of the city Kaifeng. He easily took and occupied the city, but fatefully, this is where he received word that the emperor had executed his son, An Qingzong, in retribution for his act of rebellion, as well as ordering his wife of little more than a year to commit suicide. He must have known that this was coming. After all,

that was virtually the entire reason that Qingzong had been summoned and held at the capital in the first place, to act as a hostage for An Lushan's loyalty and good behavior. Lushan had rebelled, and so his son's life was automatically forfeit. Nevertheless, the execution of his eldest son seems to have driven An Lushan into a murderous frenzy, and as we discussed last time, quite possibly driven by illness and mental disease at this point. Rather than take the city intact, he ordered his men to commence with a wholesale slaughter of the entire garrison force within, who had just surrendered without so much as a fight. What's more, according to Chamni, his orders weren't even to execute the prisoners cleanly, but instead to force them to fight one another to the death by the thousands.

Chomny states, Because An Lushan appears to have been delusional and violently emotionally disturbed, it is possible that many of his actions leading up to or taking place during the rebellion did not have entirely rational causes. End quote. With Bianzhou taken and its population duly slaughtered, regardless of whatever might have been afflicting his mind, An Lushan had dealt the state mechanisms of the Tang a truly grievous blow.

Bianzhou was, after all, one of the main ports of the Tang a truly grievous blow. Bianzhao was, after all, one of the main ports of the Chinese canal network that supplied both Luoyang and Chang'an. With it now captured, Lushan effectively held both seats of the imperial government in a stranglehold, and now set his sights on the closer of the two cities, Luoyang. Within the defensive walls of Luoyang, General Feng Chengqian had done all he could to prepare the 60,000 men under his command to defend their home against the now bloodlusted Anlushan. But once again, we're talking about the battle-hardened Frontier Army against what amounted to an army of raw recruits who, not even a month before, had been pulled up from

whatever farm or shop that they happened to work at and told, You're in the army now, son. Who would you put your money on? Twitchit writes bluntly, Feng Chenqian's army of raw levies proved no match for the rebels, and it was defeated in a series of encounters. Luoyang's governor, Da Xishun, surrendered the city to An Lushan on the 13th day of the 12th month of 755,

which is January 18th, 756 by our modern calendar. End quote. Just like that, Luoyang was taken. As for General Feng himself, he and whatever was left of his army was forced to pull back westward towards Chang'an in what was described as more of a rout than an organized retreat. Between the two capitals, however, was the Tang loyalist army's effective ace in the hole, the nigh-impregnable Dongguan Pass. We have talked about Dongguan before, since it had time and again proven as the one absolutely unbreachable defensive point in any drive towards Chang'an, and it was now occupied by General Feng's troops. He found upon his arrival at Dongguan that it was already in the process of being fortified by none other than Gao Xianzhi.

You remember him, right? Also from the Battle of Talis. He had been the Governor-General of the Far West, and it was he who had been in command at the fateful battle at the Talis River. Well, in spite of that rather embarrassing dark spot on his record, he was nevertheless still considered one of the top military minds of the era. And so it was only natural that he be recalled to command the defense of the imperial capital in this time of crisis. Back in the captured city of Luoyang, An Lushan, rather than pressing

onwards towards Chang'an directly, paused to consolidate his forces in the territories that had already been occupied throughout Hebei. Shortly after his conquest of Luoyang, An would abandon the pretense under which he had launched his whole rebellion, that of overthrowing Chancellor Yang Guozhong and restoring Xuanzong to authority. Instead, on the first day of the new year, 756, or for us, February 5th, he declared that he had received the Mandate of Heaven and was establishing a new dynasty with himself as its founding emperor. The dynastic name he chose is revealing as to his possible overall intentions and goals. His was to be called the Yan, and that was no accident. Rather than following standard dynastic naming conventions, that of naming the dynastic order after the founder's principality or dokel

title, An Lushan instead chose a name that hearkened his dynasty back to the Warring States period, prior to the first Qin emperor's initial unification of China. Chomny explains, quote, this name was significant. Yan was the name of an independent state in the Hebei region for centuries prior to its conquest by the state of Qin in 221 BCE, end quote. So An Lushan was choosing a historical throwback for his order, much in the same way that Empress Wu Zetian had done back in 690, when she declared her dynasty of one as a spiritual successor to the ancient Zhou. Chomny continues, quote,

An Lushan must have chosen the name Yan to imply a return to a past when the northeast was free of central control. This choice of name was an attempt to appeal a separate political order for Hebei in its entirety, and there might not have been any long-term strategy beyond that, or even perhaps desire at all to extend his realm to control far beyond Hebei's natural boundaries. In that sense, then, if this was indeed the case, An Lushan's rebellion could be understood as more of a secessionist movement than an outright conquest. Now the self-styled Emperor of the Great Yan, An Lushan was forced to pause his forward momentum

in an attempt to shore up the holdings he'd already received submission from during his march towards Luoyang. And it was at this point where Emperor An finally encountered the first signs of determined resistance from the until now reeling Tang forces. The vast majority of cities and holdfasts across Hebei had duly submitted before the Dong'an Protectorate Army's advance, after offering only a token resistance. Indeed, if any at all. But a few had proven to be far more dogged in their resistance to the general-turned-emperor's

demands of capitulation, and in the makeup of these resistant forces scattered across the region, we see yet another real test of the traditional Chinese narrative that would paint this rebellion as one of foreign barbarians versus Chinese. As we discussed in the last episode, it's impossible to attempt to know with any certainty the specific demographics of An Lushan's army, beyond the simple fact that it was certainly more multi-ethnic than the population of China as a whole, and probably even of the Hebei region altogether. Nevertheless, Chiaomi posits that apart from a known company of some 2,000 Sogdian cavalrymen, there is very little about An Lushan's army that suggests its troops were substantially

more foreign than the general population. And indeed, over the course of the conflict, as the rebel army would lose and need to replace its fallen soldiers with new conscripts, whatever its initial makeup, it would certainly have become more ethnically Han Chinese as time went on, since the bulk of its conscripts would have by necessity come from its occupied territories and not from, say, Steppelin's reinforcements, which, given Lushan's long-standing enmity with the likes of the Khitan and Shi tribes along the northeastern border were probably not super forthcoming in any significant numbers. Moreover, the defenses and native resistance to his army's occupation of Hebei was, like as not, commanded and supported by ethnically non-Han soldiers and

civilians. As the rebel, well, now usurper army attempted to press southwest from Luoyang and into the central Yangtze River region, their advance was halted by the governor of Dengzhou, Lu Gui, who was, according to Tuchet, quote, put in charge of a large force mostly made up of non-Chinese troops from Guizhou and Lingnan, end quote, which is to say the tribal regions of the far south. Likewise, a push westward in the far north across the northern bend of the Yellow River ran up against the entrenched defenses commanded by General Guo Ziyi, who had managed to recover the strategic city of Taizhou and mount a successful defense of the vital Tongxingguang Pass. What the usurper Emperor An would come to find was his greatest vexation over the course of

early 756, though, was the indigenous population of Hebei itself. Oh sure, they had submitted when his columns of troops had ridden through and demanded fidelity. Who wouldn't? But once the bulk of the rebel force had moved through the region, typically leaving more than a token garrison force behind, and even that only at strategic passes and defensive points, that unhappy submission rapidly morphed into a fierce counterinsurgency. Once again from Tuchet, quote, During the first dash of the rebel troops to Luoyang, they had neither systematically subdued nor occupied Hebei province. Almost immediately, a widespread, though loosely organized,

loyalist resistance movement grew up, end quote. Now this was a truly worrisome prospect, because should the Hebei loyalist movement successfully cut off the rebels' supply lines stretching now from Fanyang in the north down to Luoyang in the south, then An Lushan and his army would find itself in a real pickle. And that is exactly what the resistance did. As Emperor An made preparations to assault the fortifications of Dengguan Pass in the first month of 756, he was informed that he had effectively lost control of the entirety of Hebei, saved for a pocket in and around Yuzhou itself, that is Fanyang, and the capital Luoyang. A full 17 prefectures across Hebei, who had not even a month prior warily submitted to An Lushan,

had now once again declared their loyalty to the Tang sovereign and raised a force of potentially as many as 200,000 conscripted troops to fight him off. Thus, the rebel army was forced to delay any plans of further conquest westward, towards Chang'an, and deal with this counterinsurgency at their rear, right away, or risk losing the whole of what they'd so rapidly gained. And so here is where we get to the thoroughly predictable and yet utterly horrific transition from a rapid military advance to a bloody brutal counterinsurgency between a military occupier and a largely civilian population. The rebel army was dispatched to retake enough of Hebei to at least secure its north-south line of control between Luoyang and Fanyang, between the foot of the Taihang Mountains.

And once that was accomplished, they carried out what Twitchit calls a campaign of bloody reprisals against the population who had dared to resist them. As for the rest of Hebei, the wealthy and populous plains of the center and eastern portions of the province, those would remain beyond Lushan's grasp, firmly in the Tang loyalist camp. What all this meant for the by-now-thoroughly-beleaguered Tang armies and the imperial throne was that An Lushan's momentum had been interrupted. They now had the precious time they needed to mount a counter-response and attempt to stop the rebel general and would-be emperor in his tracks. The only option available to Xuanzong,

though, was to pull his armies from the far western and northwestern protectorate garrisons, and leave only skeleton crews behind to police the local populations. Fortunately enough, for now at least, the Tibetan Empire was embroiled in its own internal civil strife, and so was in no position to capitalize on the greatly weakened state the Tang found itself. Still, the long-term ramifications of this pullback of Chinese military might from the periphery would be tremendous. Indeed, Tang China would never recover the territories Xuanzong was now forced to voluntarily all but concede outright. But there was no other option. Abandon control of the periphery of the empire, or cede the empire altogether. Pick one.

And in any case, the only army of the Tang that could hope to stand toe-to-toe with the Northeastern Protectorate Force, or now the Yan Dynasty Army, was another hardened protectorate force. Here, however, is where we are going to have to say goodbye to our old friend, General Gao Xianzhe, and our newer friend, General Feng Changqing, because in spite of their efforts to stabilize this very bad situation, and their successful defense of the Tong Pass after Luoyang had fallen, Feng in particular had made the grievous mistake of causing offense to his imperial minder and monitor, the eunuch Bian Lingchen. Bian returned to the capital in mid-January 756, reporting to the imperial court that Feng and Gao had been lying to the emperor about the size and strength of the

rebel army, that they were not fighting hard enough to defend Hebei and Luoyang in particular, and also for stealing food supplies for their own personal gain. Xuanzong believed the report and issued death warrants for both commanders, which Bian then promptly returned to the Tang army's defensive lines with in order to carry out. He read the first imperial edict calling for Feng's death, and the general submitted to the order and was decapitated. In what was surely a very dramatic surprise, Bian then produced the second order, likewise calling for Gao's execution on the grounds of gross incompetence in the defense of Luoyang, as well as the theft of imperial supplies for personal gain.

To which Gao exclaimed, quote, I retreated when I encountered the rebel bandits, which is deserving of death. But I swear by heaven above and earth below, the accusations that I have stolen supplies and imperial rewards are false, end quote. Bian, however, was unmoved and carried on with the execution. Realizing his utter defeat, Gao looked over at the body of his longtime friend and ally, with whom he had served for many years in the deserts of the far west, and stated morosely, quote, Feng, I've known you since you first began to rise from your low station.

It was I who promoted you to become my assistant, and you then succeeded me as regional governor. It seems it is our fate to die together on this day as well. End quote. And the sword crashed down. Napoleon Bonaparte rose from obscurity to become the most powerful and significant figure in modern history. Over 200 years after his death, people are still debating his legacy. He was a man of contradictions, a tyrant and a reformer, a liberator and an oppressor, a revolutionary and a reactionary. His biography reads like a novel, and his influence is almost beyond measure. I'm Everett Rummage, host of the Age of Napoleon podcast, and every month I delve into the turbulent life and times of one of the greatest characters in history, and explore the world that shaped him in all its glory and

tragedy. It's a story of great battles and campaigns, political intrigue, and massive social and economic change, but it's also a story about people populated with remarkable characters. I hope you'll join me as I examine this fascinating era of history. As a replacement for his now-headless commanders on the front lines, Xuanzong tapped General Gusu Han, the only general left who equaled An Lushan in military prestige. This would prove to be a kind of a folly, since General Gusu was at this point very ill and incapable of effectively commanding the Tang armies, which is, I'm sure you'll agree, kind of an important point. Instead, he left the majority of the decisions and strategies to his lieutenants, who proved to be of divided mind on many critical issues. Nevertheless, the Tang

loyalist forces had managed to stave off several key points of advance for the rebel army, and that, combined with the loss of momentum for An Lushan, who had, again, had to shore up his supply lines in Hebei, meant that the imperial army, combined with the indigenous loyalist insurgents still harrying the rebels from the south and east, meant that the Tang soon gained the upper hand against An Lushan and the usurper Yan dynasty. But early in the fourth month of 756, an imperial force commanded by General Guo Ziyi managed to break through Qingsheng Pass and link up with an army that had managed to hold out against the rebel siege behind the walls of Hengzhou city and relieve them. This force,

now numbering purportedly more than 100,000 strong and behind the front lines of An Lushan's army, proceeded to inflict a crushing defeat on the Andong rebels, forcing them into a route northward and once again threatening to cut off the north-south route between northern Hebei and Luoyang. From Tujit, quote, An Lushan was now in a most difficult position, unable to advance into the capital region of Guangzhou and equally unable to break out to the south. He had lost a great part of his forces and was threatened once again by loyalist occupation cutting him off from the north." In fact, at this point, he was in such a bind that he was seriously considering abandoning

Luoyang entirely and retreating northward while he still could and reconstitute his headquarters at his old capital, Fanyang. The position of the rebel army was looking pretty grim, and then the Tang bureaucracy managed to go and screw it all up. Back in Dengguan Pass, you remember, the region that essentially prevented the rebels from being able to break into the capital region? Things were not looking so great. On the ground at the army encampments, General Gusu Han's debilitating illness had resulted in his lieutenants disagreeing and working at cross purposes to one another. For the typical soldier, this meant, in the words of Pulleybank, discipline was strict, rations were meager, and the heat of the summer was intense. All this was made worse by the fact that all the while the officer corps were idling their copious

downtime away with gambling, drinking, and dancing girls that had been specially brought for them from the capital region. All this mixed together is not a recipe for good troop morale, and as the summer of 756 crept by, the army, once a battle-hardened corps of veteran soldiers, had visibly deteriorated. At the same time, in Chang'an itself, Chancellor Yang Guozhong was realizing that he had placed himself in an awfully precarious position. He was, after all, the singular stated reason that An Lushan had declared his rebellion in the first place. As you might imagine, that dubious distinction had earned him more than a few angry glares at the court, as well as scores of military defections over to the rebel general's cause.

He was made doubly nervous by the fact that the Northern Protectorate Army, under General Ga Shu, was encamped so close to the capital, since, at least to his mind, that meant that they might get fed up with him at some point and turn on him as well. Never mind the fact, of course, that they were literally the only thing standing between Yang and 100,000 angry rebels descending upon him and sacking the capital. This is not to imply that his fears were unjustified. Much to the contrary, several sources state that some of Ga Xuhang's lieutenants had already been entering into secret negotiations

with members of the imperial court who stood in opposition to the chancellor's power bloc, and were even now trying to convince the officers of the northern court who stood in opposition to the chancellor's power bloc, and were even now trying to convince the officers of the Northern Protectorate to turn around and oust Yang Guozhong themselves. Again from Twitchit, quote, Yang's enemies had already attempted to persuade Ga Xuhan either to demand Yang Guozhong's execution or simply have him assassinated, end quote. The general had soundly rebuffed any such move against the chancellor, but Yang nevertheless mobilized a further two armies to take up positions to the rear of the Northern Protectorate's defensive lines, ostensibly to serve as a kind of second line of defense,

but in all likelihood serving far more like a blocking battalion on the eastern front of the Second World War, and generally making sure that General Gushu didn't get any funny ideas. This plan, however, backfired rather spectacularly in the sixth month of the Second World War, and generally making sure that General Ge Shu didn't get any funny ideas. This plan, however, backfired rather spectacularly in the sixth month of the year, when, after having his repeated demands for their rearguard armies to be placed under his direct command be essentially ignored by Chancellor Yang, General Ge Shu simply summoned the commanding officer of the rearguard to his headquarters and summarily executed him, thus bypassing that whole argument by virtue of still having a head. As such, the chancellor must have felt like he was out of options. He couldn't allow the northern army to remain so close to the capital, just

sitting in the sun to bake and develop things like opinions on whose fault this conflict was, or anything like that. To compound the situation even further, the civilian administration, and likely even Emperor Shenzong himself, were putting increasing pressure on the chancellor to, you know, do something about those pesky rebels already. Having a 200,000-man army just sitting in a mountain pass and not getting out there scoring victories on the battlefield didn't look good. Reports began streaming into the capital that the rebel army had largely depleted its manpower in abortive pushes to the north, south, and west, and Yang Guozhong and Emperor Xuanzong took that to mean that the time was right to go on the offensive against

this An Lushan character. But Gus Yu Han knew better, to which it writes, quote, The emperor ordered Gus Yu Han to make a frontal assault to take Shanzhou and advance to recapture Luoyang. Gusu Han, quite rightly, refused, saying that his army was in an impregnable defensive position and the rebels were being defeated and forced back on every other front. End quote. In spite of starting this conflict off really flat-footed, the Tang armies had come back and done a tremendous job of bottling up and containing the rebel threat, and just making sure that it could advance no further while whittling away at it from every other side. General Gusu recognized that fact, and further noted that these

seemingly lightly defended or abandoned passes and strategic defenses smelled a lot like a trap, since he knew An Lushan, and this was more or less exactly the kind of strategy he was known to employ. And yet, here came Xuanzong, who thought that, you know, we might be winning with this strategy, but we're not winning fast enough for our liking. So, lower the portcullis and sally forth, Gusu, whether you like it or not. Personal eunuch envoys of the emperor were dispatched to Dengguan Pass, with personal orders from the emperor commanding General Ge Xu to obey his command to mobilize onto an offensive or to face immediate Imperial justice. With

what must have been a great reluctance, and I like to think a statement on the way out to the effect of don't say I didn't warn you you idiots, General Ge Xu Han dutifully mobilized the whole of the Northern Protectorate Army out of its perfectly impenetrable and strategically vital fortifications at the Dengguan Pass in order to ride out and engage An Lushan's rebel army on the field of battle. To say that it did not go well would be putting it mildly. On July 9th, the Northern Protectorate Force was ambushed while attempting to navigate a narrow defile between the banks of the Yellow River and the nearby mountain range. Stretched out as they were, the Northern Protectorate Army seems

to have made exceptionally easy pickings for An Lushan's forces, since Twitchit simply states that it was, quote, utterly destroyed, end quote, and Polybank is similarly terse, stating only that, quote, the whole army was lost, end quote. General Gushu Han and a handful of his personal attendants managed to escape the massacre along the Yellow River and then tried to reorganize the routed and destroyed force into an effective defense against the rebel army somehow. But soon enough, his men realized the futility of the situation and forced their commander to surrender to An Lushan.

Two days later, a few harried members of the now-annihilated Protectorate Army did actually make it back to the capital to report to the stunned Imperial Court that, yeah, Guoshu Han had told you so, you idiots. The last, greatest, and only cork on the bottle that was the Yan rebel army had just been popped right out of their impregnable defensive zone by Imperial command and then destroyed and at this point there wasn't anyone with a finger to replug the dike Emperor Xuanzang asked what his options were in terms of defending the Imperial seat to which Chancellor Yang and the rest of the

court pretty much just shrugged their shoulders and said we we hear Sichuan is really nice this time of year. That's right, the absolute only option left on the table for the emperor and his advisors and anyone else in the capital city was to abandon ship and make a run for Chengdu, the greatest defensive fortification south of the Yangtze. The days that would follow this fateful decision to abandon Chang'an ahead of the rebel advance must have been a scene of pure terror and panic. Keep in mind that Chang'an was the equivalent of a New York or London today. It boasted a staggeringly huge population of somewhere between 800,000 to a million residents,

making it easily the largest city in the world at the time, akin to Rome at the height of the Western Empire in the 4th century, and almost twice as large as Constantinople or Baghdad at this time. And yet, within two to three days of the decision being made, the city had gone from the global center point of Asia, if not the world, to a virtual ghost town. Imperial officials and civilians, anyone capable of doing so, took whatever movable wealth that they could and booked it southward towards Sichuan as fast as they could. And Emperor Shanzong was close behind.

When a handful of officials appeared at the Imperial Palace at dawn on July 13th to consult with their sovereign about how best to organize the government's withdrawal and the defense of the city and all that, they were surprised to find that the emperor and the royal family had all spirited themselves out of the city sometime the previous night. Yeah, Xuanzang had just peaced out and left the city, its residents, and those poor stumped officials, and even many members of his own imperial clan who just maybe weren't fast enough, behind.

Left to figure out what to do as the Yan rebel armies approached ever closer to the utterly defenseless city, which they would enter unopposed only four days later on July 18th. But we'll deal with the fallout of that next time. Instead, today we're going to follow Emperor Xuanzong and the Royal Retinue, and Bodyguard, on their flight to Chengdu, and finish out today with the tragic episode that was to come while on the road. Only a day or two into their long journey of more than 740 kilometers, the entourage stopped at the Ma Wei outpost and were

approached by a group of Tibetan emissaries. The Tibetans, some 20 of them on horseback, hungry and not in a particularly good mood, began demanding food and supplies from the harried imperial bodyguard, since they noted that the outpost staff had not given them anything to eat. Instead, Chancellor Yang Guozhong began conversing with the group, in all likelihood attempting to explain the rather in extremis situation the Imperial retinue was in at the moment, and that they didn't even have enough food on hand to feed their own men, and that they really should probably be on their way, quietly, if they knew what was good for them.

The Imperial Bodyguard, however, had other ideas. Now there are a couple of things to keep in mind that we've discussed earlier but are all going to come to a head in a second, so here they are once again. Number one, the Imperial Bodyguard was made up primarily of the Northern Army that had previously been suspected of conspiring with the crown prince Li Heng to overthrow Xuanzong. Number two, Chancellor Yang was seen, justifiably, as the reason this whole disaster had happened. Number three, Xuanzong's favorite consort, Yang Guifei, was the Chancellor Yang's sister. And finally, number four, remember that An Lushan was a Hu foreigner, leading what

had come to be seen and understood by many of the imperial troops as a foreign army against the dynasty. So, to be sure, the timing and the optics of Chancellor Yang conversing with yet another group of potentially hostile foreigners in front of a tired, scared, hungry, and angry cohort of imperial troops of already dubious loyalty to the regime, leaves a lot to be desired. Chowney describes the ringleaders of what was to come as, quote,

Li Heng sympathizers, end quote, but other accounts have them more generically pissed off at Yang rather than definite supporters of the heir apparent's coup ideas. Whoever they really were, and whatever their real reasons, within moments the Imperial Guardsmen had been whipped into a frenzy in accusing Yang Guozhong of plotting treason with these Tibetan emissaries against the Chinese. From the Zhezhe Tongjian, quote,

They encountered Tibetan emissaries. Twenty Tibetans blocked Yang Guozhong's horses. The emissaries complained of their lack of food. Guozhong did not adequately respond. The military officer said, Guo Zhang participates in the Hu slaves' rebel conspiracy! Someone yelled this from among the cavalry. In moments, a group of the soldiers attacked Yang, his son, and the emissaries as they conversed and killed them all where they stood, reportedly

cutting his body apart, raising his head on a spear outside the gate. End quote. The murderous soldiers then surrounded the pavilion in which the Emperor Shanzong and his family were resting, and demanded he come out. Emperor Shanzong did so, and, seeing that there was nothing to be done for the Tibetans or Yang Guozhong, attempted to calm the men down and prevent further bloodshed. One of the ringleaders, however, loudly demanded before the assembled men that, quote,

Guo Zhong plotted a rebellion. Is it suitable to honor concubine Yang? I hope his majesty will retract his favor and execute her lawful punishment. End quote. Xuanzong was taken aback at this demand and initially refused, simply stating,

I pledge I will resolve this situation. And he then retreated inside to think about what he was going to do. At this, however, his personal scribe and fortune teller, Wei'e, approached the emperor and advised him, quote, You cannot afford to incur the wrath of the multitude. Safety depends on time. You must come to a quick decision, end quote. To show his absolute sincerity and the seriousness of the situation, Wei'er then not only kowtowed to Xuanzong, but produced a blade and spilled his own blood before him. Xuanzong replied,

The concubine has lived in the inner palace for many years, cut off from the outside world. Even if Guo Zhong was plotting rebellion, as they say, how could she have anything to do with it? At this, his trusted aide and confidant, the eunuch official Gao Yishi, also approached and implored him, We all know the concubine is innocent. However, they have already killed Guo Zhong. Now they demand her from among your inner circle. If we refuse them this, how can any of us be safe? I wish your majesty considers the consequences of his decision carefully. The army's tranquility

and our continued protection indeed follows the fate of your own household. With what has been described as the greatest of regrets, the stuff of poetry, and where this episode in fact gets its name, Shenzong at last agreed to his soldier's demand, and had Gaolixi escort Consort Yang to a nearby Buddhist shrine where she was to make her final prayers, and then he strangled her to death. Her body was then presented to the waiting Northern Army, who at last seemed contented with this final act of murderous bloodletting. Chomny writes of this horrific tragedy, This bloody night was the first indication that many elites in China saw their dynasty under attack not by secessionist rebels led by a power-mad general, or even as an attack by

Sogdians or Turks, but as a wholesale siege of the Han by a generic other, who took the form of both Hu rebels and Tibetan envoys, end quote. But let's not get too carried away with the racial overtones, which were, after all, only beginning to really crystallize into what they'd become in the post-rebellion world. It does indeed seem considerably more likely that whatever rationale the Northern Army had cooked up in the moment to justify their armed coup against Yang Guozhong. They were probably far more interested in advancing the career of Crown Prince Li Heng than it was actually thinking Chancellor Yang speaking with Tibetan emissaries was actually evidence of a grand foreigner conspiracy.

Chomny goes on, quote, Most likely, none of the officers were under the impression that Yang Guozhong's inability to immediately respond to the starving Tibetans blocking their path was actually an attempt to conspire with the Yan rebels. Most were rather following their own generals' orders or simply choosing the winning side. But it was an important precedent that had been set then and there on that night, regardless of whether any present actually believed the pretext for the coup. Only six months into the rebellion, it had already become established that any contact

with foreigners, however brief or inconsequential, could be a sign of disloyalty to the Tang. It didn't seem to matter anymore that Tibetans were different than Sogdians or Turks, or that the Tibetan Empire was not a part of the rebellion at all, and indeed, had been taking great pains to not stir up trouble with the Tang Empire due to its own concurrent civil war. Now, by simple virtue of being foreign, that now meant that they were potentially in league with the Hu rebels, a single undifferentiated mass of otherness that now, more than ever, seemed poised to overthrow the Chinese world order and engulf civilization itself in chaos once again. Regardless, with the Yang family dead, there was now a question mark hanging over the decision to proceed to Sichuan at all.

Chengdu was, after all, where the Yangs had come from, and many of their supporters still there would be none too pleased to hear about what happened at Maui outpost that night. Some of Shenzong's advisors suggested that he should instead divert up to the northwest, or to Taiyuan City, while others suggested that he should instead turn completely around and head back to Chang'an to mount a defense of the city, although that would have been a really bad idea because the following day it would fall to the Yan Dynasty, so lucky them for not deciding to follow that course of action. Finally though, Xuanzang intervened in the discussion, stating that he intended to continue on to Chengdu,

and from there rally and reorganize the Tang forces to counterattack the Yan rebels' advance. Meanwhile, Crown Prince Li Heng was persuaded to remain behind in order to first mount a rearguard against possible rebel pursuit, and then to head northward to Lingwu, the headquarters of the northwestern Shoufang military command. And yes, this is all on the map on the website, so I encourage you to go take a look. But that is where we're going to leave off for the week. Emperor Shanzong heading south for Sichuan, while his treacherous son and heir heads north to mount a counteroffensive against the seemingly unstoppable might of An Lushan and his rising Yan dynasty.

But we're only six months into the war, and in the weeks and months to come, over 756 and beyond, events will rock both sides to their respective cores and see a changing of the guard for both the Tang and the Yan rebels, a change that will shake up the entire war front. And all this, while tens of thousands continue to die across the country day after day, as the civil strife that has engulfed China chews through yet another generation of men, women, and children. Thanks for listening.

400 years ago, a trio of tiny kingdoms were perched on some damp islands off the coast of Europe. Within three short centuries, these islands would become the centre of an empire which ruled a quarter of the globe and on which the sun never set. I'm Samuel Hume, a historian of the British Empire, and my podcast Pax Britannica follows the people and events that built that empire into a global superpower. Learn the history of the British Empire by listening to Pax Britannica everywhere you find your podcasts, or go to pod.link slash pax.