The History of China - #158 - S. Song 5: A Changing of the Guard

Episode Date: February 14, 2019

Both Song and Jin have a new set of emperors at the helm... it will mean war... and peace... but the riptides of history will ensure that, whatever the outcome of this conflict, very little will remain the same for much longer. Time Period Covered: ~1140-1162 CE Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

You're listening to an Airwave Media Podcast. The Civil War and Reconstruction was a pivotal era in American history. When a war was fought to save the Union and to free the slaves. And when the work to rebuild the nation after that war was over turned into a struggle to guarantee liberty and justice for all Americans. I'm Tracy. And I'm Rich. And we want to invite you to join us as we take an in-depth look at this pivotal era in American history. Look for The Civil War and

Reconstruction wherever you find your podcasts. Hello and welcome to the History of China. Episode 158, A Changing of the Guards Hello, and happy Lunar New Year! Here's wishing you all a prosperous year of the Yin Earth Pig. May you really bring home the bacon. Yeah, I'll show myself out. Anyways, last time we left our harried Song Chinese south of the Yellow River, having concluded a humiliating but enduring peace with their Jurcheng Jin adversaries,

then skipped over the Jin entirely and gotten into the background and early history of a tribe known as the Mengwu, or Mongols, that had migrated west from the Heilong River in northern Manchuria over to the headwaters of the Onon River, under the shadow of Barakhan Khaldun, before tweaking the beard, literally, of their Jurchen overlords and paying the inevitable price of becoming an outer vassal after getting thoroughly spanked. But it hardly seems fair that we so callously ignored the Jurchen, leaving them to only play the supporting role. And so, we begin today with them front and center.

The last emperor of Jin that we discussed was the boy king Shizong, he who had done what boy kings so often do, indulge themselves to excess while letting the affairs of state run off the rails, or if the state is lucky, coast on autopilot through the various princes and officials picking up the slack. It had been largely the latter case in terms of Shizong when he was enthroned at the age of 14 or 15 in the year 1135, and that had been much to Song China's relief since autopilot largely kept the Durchin from overrunning their badly weakened positions following the Treaty of Shaoxing in 1141-1142, and kept the Jin mostly true to their word in the two decades to follow. Yet as Shizhong had grown

to manhood, a darker side emerged within him, especially following the deaths of his two sons. Between his prodigious alcohol abuse and mounting depression coupled with paranoia, Shizhong became more capricious, violent, and ruthless over the later 1140s. From Thomas Alson, quote, Apart from his conduct, he seemed to have suffered from persecution mania, and repeatedly had high officials and even members of his own clan killed on flimsy pretexts. Inevitably, a faction developed against him, and finally conspirators murdered him on 9 January 1150, end quote. This coup d'etat was headed by the emperor's cousin, the prince of Hai Ling, whose given name was Di Gunai in Zhechen, or Wan Yan Liang in Chinese. It would be Prince Hai Ling

who would take up the throne of Jin following the coup, but it would prove to be a case of replacing bad with even worse for the Zhechen dynasty. So bad, in fact, that the Book of Jin refuses to even recognize Hailing as a legitimate Jin emperor, or even give him a temple name. He is, throughout, called the Hailing Wang, or Prince Hailing, and thus, so shall we. The tale of Prince Hailing's tenure on the Jian throne leaves little doubt about where it's headed. Quote, While Shizong, sure, had gotten a little murder-happy here there toward the end, for Hailing, well, such assassinations were simply

standard procedure, including, and especially, members of the imperial clan. And it's with pearls firmly clutched that the histories go on to tell in shocked whispers that he would commonly transfer the wives of his dispatched princes to his own harem following such executions. Alcind even notes that Hailing became something of an anti-hero figure in later pornographic novels and literature, in which, quote, his exploits are embellished with gusto, end quote. Revised in modern scholarship about Prince Hylene

paints a somewhat, though not entirely, different portrait of the figure, however. While still undoubtedly a ruthless heel, when looked at in a sober fashion rather than as a stock villain, he becomes something more approaching a complete person at least, and even perhaps an almost necessary step in the Jurchens' ongoing transition from collective and clan-dominated leadership to monarchic autocracy. As a brief aside, on this point, I'm very much reminded of the episode of Daryl Cooper's Martyr Made podcast on the Aztec and their own societal quirks, as they made the shaky

and particularly bloody transition from collectivism to tyrannical state authority. The episode I'm talking about is called Sacrifice and Oppression at the Dawn of Tyranny, and it's well worth checking out if you haven't already. Anyways, back to Prince Hai Ling. Strange as it might sound, given the policies he'd pursue during his own people and clan were because he felt it necessary to expunge those older tribal-slash-feudal elements of his own society to make way for the quote-unquote modern Chinese imperial example. From Allison, quote, Hai Lingwang was an avid reader and had studied the Chinese classics and histories, greatly impressed by the many Song Chinese whom he had met after the resumption of diplomatic In fact, he was so known for being an inveterate China lover

that ever since his youth, he'd been given the somewhat derisive nickname by his peers, Bo Liehan, meaning roughly, he who apes the Chinese. Now, as emperor, Hai Ling did his darndest to be as Chinese as he possibly could. We're talking ritualistically, ceremonially, fiscally, and yes, administratively. Even the physical center of the Jin Empire had to move out of Manchuria and into, yeah, China proper. Yan City, aka Beijing, which had up until this point been the south capital of Jin, would, under Hai Ling, be reclassified as the new central capital, or Shanjing, as of 1152. About five years later, just to make sure that everyone had thoroughly gotten the point, he ordered the destruction of all imperial palaces and mansions at the old Jin Supreme

Capital in northern Manchuria, and had the city demoted to a mere prefecture, which was just about the lowest grade it could possibly go. Likewise, he declared that Kaifeng, the former Song capital, be re-designated as the Jin South capital, and that new palaces and mansions be constructed there. Don't worry too terribly much about all these name changes, by the way. As I've done up until now, unless I tell you otherwise, I'm pretty much going to stick with the modern name, or at least the name I've been using up until now. So Yen slash Beijing is going to remain as such, Kaifeng I'll keep calling Kaifeng, etc. Don't worry about it. All of this shows just how badly Hai Ling

wanted to be a Chinese rather than Jurchen ruler in both form and function. But it went even further, because you see, Prince Hai Ling didn't just want to be a Chinese ruler. No, he wanted to be THE Chinese ruler, no, he wanted to be THE Chinese ruler and would brook no competition. Certainly not from some pathetic rump state tributary in the south still calling itself the Song. By the late 1150s, he was making preparations to renew the conflict between Jin and Song and finally complete what his predecessors had left undone, the conquest of the

Southlands and the reunification of China with the Jin, with him, of course, at its helm. And he was not subtle about it, like at all. In 1158, he issued a formal decree accusing the Song of violating the terms of the Shaoxing Treaty by purchasing import goods on the black market, namely horses, which the treaty explicitly forbade. Never mind that the Jin had likewise been trading heavily on the black market in items the treaty forbade them acquire from Chinese vendors. No, no, no, these pretexts need not be very sturdy at all. There was, of course, the consideration of making sure that were the majority of the Jin forces to commit to a renewed southern invasion, no one on their western or northern flanks would get any funny ideas. The greatest concern was with

the formidable Tangut state to the far west, Xisha, and that they might seek to capitalize on the Jin's back being turned. To prove against this possibility, Hai Ling dispatched his minister of war to inspect the western borders and make sure that there was no suspicious activity or buildup along it. When it appeared that indeed the Tanguts were doing nothing untowards along the border, Prince Hai Ling commenced with his military buildup, ordering as many as 560,000 warhorses requisitioned and sent to Beijing, and ordering large-scale conscription of the Jin population. As has been the case before and will be again in the future, though this army

would be commanded by the Jurchin elites, the conscript soldiers called up were from the populace at large, which was, of course, overwhelmingly Han Chinese. But such are the tides of war, and the duties of a subject to the decrees of the state, whoever that happens to be. Through all of this, the Song state wasn't blind to what was coming down the pipes. Following the Jin accusation of Song having broken the trade stipulations of the treaty, the imperial court attempted to ease tensions by, quote, sending an envoy to congratulate Prince Hai Ling on moving the Jin capital to Kaifeng, but the Jin emperor refused to receive him, end quote. Well, okay, I guess we'd better dust off the old armor, eh fellas? By 1160, the received wisdom across the Song capital was that a renewed war with the Jurchen

was inevitable, and that they must do everything they could to prepare. Well, at least almost everyone. The one holdout was the aged but ever-timid Emperor Gaozong, now 53 years old and just as wishy-washy as ever. Because of his hesitation, only three military garrisons along the Yangtze River were hastily set up in 1161 to strengthen defenses. As was tradition for the Jurchen, Prince Hai Ling assumed personal command over the center army, and in the seventh month of 1161, marched his forces south from Beijing to the southern capital, Kaifeng,

in preparation for the invasion to come. It was here that he committed perhaps one of his more egregious acts of his rule, an action, in the words of Alcin, quote, as desperate as it was cruel, end quote. He writes, quote, shortly after he tried to assert his legitimacy as ruler over the whole of China, he ordered the liquidation of all surviving male descendants of the Ye Lu clan and the Zhao family, thus exterminating any potential pretenders from the former ruling families of the Liao and Song empires. It is reported that over 130 persons were killed during the summer of 1161. Hai Ling Wang's ruthless actions aggravated the unrest among the Khitans, who, consequentially, resorted to open rebellion. A force of 10,000

had to be diverted to Manchuria in order to quell the revolts, end quote. And then, just in case you didn't get the hint quite yet that he was not a very nice guy. He went on to follow this up by ordering the assassination of his own stepmother, the Empress Dowager, along with ten of her ladies in waiting when she had dared to criticize his invasion plan. There would never be any formal declaration of war, and indeed, in spite of the fact that the Jin was obviously, I mean obviously, gearing up for a renewed conflict, the normal diplomatic courtesies between the two states went on uninterrupted as late as June of 1161, when the Song court received a Jin ambassador to congratulate the Song emperor on his birthday. Apparently, however, the ambassador behaved so insolently to Gao Zong and his court

that basically everyone agreed that an invasion was obviously coming soon, and so that they needed to beef up their border security even more. In fact, Alson quotes that the ambassador's lack of discretion in this regard, thus basically letting the cat out of the bag, would actually wind up costing him his life when he was later accused and then convicted of treason for spilling the beans. That autumn, Jin mobilized four armies against Song positions in modern Jiangsu, Anhui, northern Hubei, and Shanxi. In addition to this land force, Prince Hailing also studied his history well enough to understand that much

would depend on his army's ability to fight on the waterways toe-to-toe with the formidable Song navy. As such, he called up more than 30,000 sailors and requisitioned large numbers of barges to serve as both transports and warships. This Jin navy was sent down the coastline in order to ensure that, when the Jin inevitably shattered the Song defenses yet again and marched on the Song capital, this time the insipid Gaozong wouldn't be able to slip their grasp by escaping to sea, as he'd done now twice before. Hai Ling commanded his central army and led them across the Huai River into Anhui at the end of October 1161, encountering little to no resistance from the Song forces. They thus reached the northern banks of the Yangtze by mid-November, at a place called Caishi, at the foot of Mount Ma'an. And as a brief aside, Mount Ma'an is the place where,

according to legend, more than 1300 years prior, the Hegemon king of western Chu, Xiang Yu, committed suicide after losing the Battle of Gaisha to Liu Bang, thus establishing the Han Dynasty. But anyway. When the Jin forces attempted to force a crossing on November 26th and 27th, the fleet of barges and boats carrying the thousands of northern troops were routed and forced back by the massively superior Song naval force, which included a flotilla of paddle-wheeled warships. This Song navy was commanded by a civilian official, Yu Yunwen. Yu had lucked into this role as acting fleet commander when he'd showed up to supervise the army in the region,

but learned to his horror that the navy had no overall commander. Without his timely arrival and assumption of command, it's entirely possible that the Battle of Taishi might have gone completely differently. It is interesting to note the discrepancy that opens up historically between classic Chinese tellings of the Battle of Taisheng and what other records indicate. Alson notes that Song historiographers were quick to talk this clash up, putting it on par with the most dramatic and decisive naval battles in Chinese history up to that point. Yet the numbers don't quite seem to add up.

Song histories state that the Song had a paltry 18,000 troops stationed at Caishi, and yet faced down more than 400,000 Jin soldiers. Alson notes that while the 18,000 troops of Song seem plausible, the Jin number is, quote, an obvious misrepresentation, end quote, and only makes sense if they were counting the total Jin troop strength of the entire invasion force across the whole battlefront, and would also have included the non-combatant forces attached to the fighting troops. Tao Jing Shen writes,

The Jin dynastic history, Jin Shi, recorded Jin casualties as ranging from one Meng'an, a unit of 1,000 men, and 100 soldiers to 2 Meng'an and 200 soldiers. In sharp contrast, a Song source indicates that 24,000 Jin warriors perished in the engagement. The Song army captured 5 Meng'an and 500 soldiers. A more reasonable contemporary accounting gives the following figures. 20 Jin boats with a total of 500 soldiers reached the south bank of the Yangtze River, gives the following figures. 20 Jin boats with a total of 500 soldiers reached the south bank of the Yangtze River, and the soldiers were either killed or captured by the Song forces. In other words, the defeat at Caixue, far from being some coup de grace for the Jin expedition, was nothing more than a minor skirmish in terms of physical men or materiel.

But in terms of morale, it's easy to see why the Song were so quick to talk it up into a struggle of epic proportions. In so doing, they were able to pump themselves up, regain their long-diminished confidence, and, you know, feel strong again. As for the Jin, they learned that rickety houseboats and cobbled-together rafts were no match for the full might of the Song professional navy, and that their ultimate weapon, their nigh-invincible cavalry, was of very limited use south of the Yangtze River, pockmarked as the landscape was by lakes and rivers, making free movement and cavalry difficult, if not outright impossible. The Jin would never again seriously attempt a crossing of the Yangtze River.

With his army forced back to the northern banks, Prince Hailing's dreams of a blitzkrieg-style overrunning of the Song defensive lines had fallen to pieces. Not only that, but unbeknownst to him at the time, in other sectors of the warfront, the Song armies had actually managed to score some local victories of their own and successfully conquered several Jin prefectures along the westernmost border. With his reckless gambit having obviously failed,

Prince Hai Ling was forced to reconsider his options about how to press forward with his campaign. He would never get the chance, however. Because remember how he was a murder-happy lunatic that made everyone hate him? Yeah, well, that came back to stick a knife, or several, into his back one mid-December night at the end of 1161. History isn't black and white, yet too often it's presented as such. Grey History, the French Revolution is a long-form history podcast dedicated to exploring the ambiguities and nuances of the past. By contrasting both the experiences of contemporaries and the conclusions of historians, Grey History dives into the detail and unpacks one of the most

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then check out Grey History The French Revolution today. Or simply search for The French Revolution. Back up in the Jin capital. The widespread hatred of Hai Ling and his tyrannical rule had brought pretty much everyone. The Zhechuan ruling elite, the Khitan, the Bohai, the Han Chinese populace, all of them together in agreement about one clear idea, that guy's gotta go. The conspiracy to get rid of Prince Hailing coalesced around his own cousin, Wu Lu, also known by his sinusized name, Wan Yan Yong. With Prince Hai Ling off playing war,

by late October, a faction of the imperial clan had elevated Wu Lu to the throne as what I'm going to call him from here on out, Emperor Shizong of Jin. Well, it took a few weeks for the word of this coup to reach the front lines, but when it did last on a chilly evening on December 15th, a group of officers, who were likewise fed up with Hai Ling's awfulness, took it upon themselves to approach the Jin ruler's tent, enter, and commence slaughtering him along with five of his concubines. And as I mentioned at the beginning, he was so reviled by his own people, and even his own family, that though he had ruled as emperor of the beginning, he was so reviled by his own people, and even his own family, that though he had ruled as emperor of the Jin, he was denied a temple name and reduced in rank to mere prince. In fact, about 20 years later, he would be posthumously demoted even further,

stripped of all noble titles, and reduced to a commoner. So he's sometimes even known as the commoner Hai Ling. And so, once again, take it to heart, the Chinese prove that just because your enemy's dead doesn't mean you can't further denigrate and humiliate them in a ceremonial fashion. The newly enthroned Shizong made haste from his place of coronation, the northern city of Liaoyang, to the central capital at Beijing, arriving by the new year of 1162. His first order of the year was to effect the immediate withdrawal of all Jin forces from the Yangtze front and then

send a new set of envoys to ask Song for a termination of hostilities and a resumption of normal relations between the two states. The emperor who received the envoys, Gao Zong, of course, would not be the one to oversee the negotiations, nor even the conclusion of the final treaty as of 1165. That's because, less than nine months after his army's victory at Caishu and the armistice with Jin, at the age of 55, Emperor Gaozong retired. It was out of the blue, totally surprising to everyone, and after a reign of 36 years. Though he stated his reasons for abdication were that he was old, sick, and longed for retirement,

in fact, again, he was only 55 and would live for another 27 years in all. In actuality, there were likely two reasons that Gao Zong had decided to call it quits when he did. The first is that he'd lost a lot of his credibility when he'd more or less sat on his hands and done nothing to prepare for the Jin invasions, which everyone had been telling him was obviously coming, and instead decided to believe that the Jurchen would continue to uphold their end of the Treaty of Shaoxing. And then there had been the sad sack conduct he'd shown during the war he had assured would never come. Purportedly, he was, quote, so frightened that he contemplated a last-ditch plan to escape from the capital by sea, end quote. I mean, you can hardly blame the guy. He'd been terrorized

by the Jurchen almost his entire life, and running away had totally worked the last two times. But apparently the miracle turnaround at Saisha was enough to convince him that it marked the end of an era, and it was time to let someone else worry about the barbarian attacks. He had earned himself a quiet cup of tea at long last. With his abdication, the throne passed to his adopted son and heir, and by blood his distant cousin Zhao Shen, who was enthroned that same day as Emperor Xiaozong of Song. A little wrinkle of note is that with this succession, for the first time in almost two centuries, the line of Song emperors actually reverted from the progeny of the second Song emperor, Taizong, back to the line of the progenitor of the dynasty, Taizu.

This did not mean, of course, that Gaozong was out of the picture entirely. No, as had been the case before when a sitting emperor had retired rather than die in office, he was quote-unquote promoted to the status of Taihudi, or Retired Emperor, and retained substantive power over policy and of the realm at large. Still, at the age of 35, it would be largely up to Xiaozong to reach a new deal with the Jurchen Jin state. Xiaozong had shown himself as a force to be reckoned with very early on with his opening salvo at the negotiating table with the Jurchen. Dismissing out of hand the Jin's request to simply restore the terms of the Treaty

of Shaoxing, Xiao Zong countered with a hardball offer of his own. No more payments, full restoration of equality between the empires, and oh yeah, we get to keep all the territories we just reconquered north of the Huai River. And to prove that he wasn't just about to roll over and take it like Gao Zong had, Xiao Zong recalled from their long periods of Qin Hui-induced exile, Zhang Jun and Hu Chuan from the backwaters of Sichuan, appointing Zhang as his new Weiguo Gong, or the Duke of National Defense. Oh yeah, and in case you didn't get the message just yet, he posthumously pardoned and restored

full honors to that most prominent of Qin Hui's peace at any price administration, General Yue Fei. So yeah, Jin Dynasty, be on notice. There's a new sheriff in Hangzhou. Acting as a counterbalance to Xiao Zong's seemingly natural footing as an aggressive ruler, and Zhang Jun and Hu Chuan's egging him on from one shoulder, on his other shoulder sat his longtime tutor and mentor, the aged minister Shi Hao, who urged not capitulation, but simply caution.

On the issue of whether or not to be truly hardline about the proposed return of the captured territories to Jin, Shi stated, To first prepare ourselves for defense is the best strategy. Whether to have war or peace does not depend on us but on the enemy. We should fortify the walls to defend against the enemy onslaught and await for an opportune time to carry out a campaign of reconquest. End quote. Things would, in fact, come to blows between Song and Jin in the year 1163, with the successful suppression of the Khitan rebels by the Zhechun, thereby letting Emperor Shizong once again return his full attention southward. Over the next several months, Jin military units were mobilized toward the Huai River border, and a sternly worded letter was sent to the Duke of National Defense demanding the the summer of 63, Zhang was granted an audience with Emperor Xiaozong, proposing a preemptive strike against the Jin before they could launch the

attack their commander had already threatened. It was Shi Hao, of course, who spoke out vigorously against such a reckless course of action, stating in his memorial to the throne that, understandable as it was that his majesty would wish to avenge all of the wrongs committed by the Jin against Song, the empire was still not sufficiently strong enough or prepared enough to be able to commit to such a massive campaign. Instead, he proposed a solution that, for now, they concentrate on making their own defenses impenetrable and preparing for an offensive campaign in ten years' time. It was advice that Xiaozong was not ready to heed, and the emperor instead agreed with Duke Zhang,

in spite of his own father, the retired emperor, warning him against paying Zhang Jun too much credence. Instead of going through the normal channels of the three departments and the Bureau of Military Affairs, both of which were controlled by either Shi Hao or other ministers who agreed with him, and likely would have ground the operation to a halt through bureaucratic means. Emperor Xiaozong instead issued a secret set of orders directly to Duke Zhang to, quote, "...oversee the mobilization of Song troops in the Huai Valley in preparation for the northern invasion. That invasion, such as it was, would be launched

the following autumn, the first defensive operation launched by the Song since the outbreaks of hostilities two years prior. And at least at first, it was a resounding success. Within 10 days of crossing the border into the north, the Song troops captured Lingbi and Hengshan counties from the Jin, and a week later had routed the Jurchen forces from Suzhou. Upon learning that Xiao Zong had gone behind his back to launch this war, Shi Hao resigned in protest and would spend the next several years away from the court in a self-imposed retirement. In any case, he would shortly be proven right, because the initial stunning success of the offensive campaign would prove to be short-lived. Less than a month after

the beginning of the invasion, only two weeks after the fall of Suzhou, the same city would receive the fulbrunt of the Jin counter-response. From Gong, quote, The rapidity of the Jin counter counterattack in response, combined with the jealousy and lack of cooperation between the two principal Song generals, Li Xianzhong and Xiao Hengyuan, contributed to the Song defeat. The animosity between the two commanders affected the morale of the troops who were already unhappy with the paltry rewards they had received for recapturing Suzhou. Given this unease in the ranks, it is not surprising that demoralized officers in both Li's and Xiao's commands

fled with their troops at the approach of Jin reinforcements. Li was able to withstand the enemy assault for a while, but because he received no assistance or support from Xiao, he eventually had no choice but to flee as well. The withdrawal rapidly devolved into a full-on rout, resulting in many thousands of Song troops being killed, captured, executed, or drowning themselves attempting to flee back across the Huai River. It was a decisive defeat, laying the Song state out flat. And yet, curiously, instead of following up this victory with his own incursion into the south, the Jin commander called a halt to his army, and a lull in the conflict ensued. Wind taken completely out of their sails,

Zhang Jun tendered his immediate offer of resignation to the shell-shocked Emperor Xiaozong. But rather than accept, Xiaozong convinced Zhang to remain on, and at the very least fortify the Song defenses in the Huai region. Even so, a month later he was demoted from his position as Duke of National Defense and reinstated at his previous post of Pacification Superintendent of the Yangtze and Huai regions. In addition, numerous other ministers who had supported the aggressive war stance also tendered their resignations, which were, in turn, accepted by the throne. Hit as he was directly in the solar plexus of state, Xiaozong was still unwilling to give in to the Jin's newly repeated demands to return to the conditions of the 1141 Treaty. Over the subsequent 18 months, several missions were conducted at the Jin court to attempt to arrive at a mutually acceptable peace condition. After a further fraught negotiation

session, Zhang Jun's final dismissal from office in 1164 seemed to have accelerated both sides toward a final agreement. The final treaty would not be ratified until 1165, but when all of the I's were dotted and all of the T's crossed, it would pan out rather better for the Songlisco round than back in 1141. They still had to pay almost the same amount of cash and silks each year, though the totals were reduced by not inconsiderable 50,000 units each per annum, but they were no longer referred to as sui gong, or annual tribute. Instead, they were now called the much more neutral term sui bi, meaning simply annual payment. Moreover, the Song government no longer needed to regard itself as a vassal state of the Jurchen. The Jin Emperor would now call the Song Emperor by his proper

title and position, and their relationship would be regarded as uncle to nephew, with the uncle being the retired Song Emperor Gao Zong, and the nephew, the Jin Emperor Shi Zong. In any case, at least the humiliating term vassal had finally disappeared, and the Song emperor didn't have to sign off every correspondence with your subject. Otherwise, little else had changed. As I said before, the payments remained pretty similar, though a little less, and the border demarcations along the Huai River remained unchanged. Still, it was a treaty that would hold for a further 40 years, and everyone was able to walk away smiling. Within Song, when the final seal had been affixed and affirmed, a public announcement was made, reading, As a result of the negotiations, the status of the Song Emperor is rectified with the establishment of the nephew-uncle relation.

The annual payments are reduced by the Khitan rebellion I mentioned earlier that had broken out against Jian Shizong's predecessor, Prince Hai Ling. The initial Jian force sent to quell them had not proven themselves up to the task, and the Khitan had even unsuccessfully tried to get their messages across the southern border and into Song China to enlist their aid in fighting Jurchen domination. Still, in Xizong's steady hands, the Khitan rebellion was put down by autumn of 1162, seeing the flight of several Khitan groups to Song-controlled territory and the wide-scale disbanding of almost all existing Khitan military units, whose troops were scattered throughout

other Jurchen-led units. There was likewise a large-scale purging of Khitan military commanders of dubious loyalty. Only those Khitan commanders who had proven track records of remaining steadfastly loyal over the course of the rebellion were permitted to retain their ranks and positions. The rest were dismissed from service entirely. A further measure was enacted across the northern and western frontier zones, which was to fortify dozens of townships against attack. This served the dual purpose of protecting against Khitan eloyence of dubious disposition, as well as proofing the frontiers

of the Jin state against the ongoing and ever-annoying Mongol raids that harassed and plundered such townships year after year. The results of Shizong's efforts in stabilizing his Jin state were greatly successful, and in the course of just a few years, the dumpster fire situation he'd inherited from his late cousin had been both internally and externally stabilized. The remainder of his long reign saw many reforms in the field of administration, economy, and education. Apart from some border fighting against the Mongols, the Jin state enjoyed uninterrupted peace for more than 25 years. End quote. Unlike Prince Hai Ling, Shizong

was not a total Sinophile, and indeed looked with worry and suspicion at his people's ongoing sinification. He, quote, As such, over the course of his reign, he would enact policies to try to limit the, at least as he saw it, degenerating effects of his Jurchens trying to live as though they were Chinese. For instance, he enacted edicts prohibiting the zhechen from adopting Chinese names or wearing Chinese-style clothing. Likewise, he ordered the former supreme capital at Huiming rebuilt and redesignated as Shangjing, just like the good old days. When major construction was completed in 1184, Shizhong went so far as to make a pilgrimage there and spent a whole year at the new old capital, reveling in the memory of the glory

of his forefathers and listening to the recitals of bards praising the exploits of Agudah. And in the middle of all this, likely in or around the year 1162, far to the northwest, beyond the shifting sands of the Gobi Desert and nestled somewhere in the Khenti Range, perhaps under the very shadow of Berkhan Khaldun itself, a young girl, less than three years prior kidnapped just after her first wedding and then married by her kidnapper, labored to bring her first child into the world. After unknowable hours, when she had at last succeeded and her infant son lay in her arms, screaming his first yelps into the chilly air of the Gur in which they now both resided, the new mother, Khoyi Lun, would notice that the

boy was inexplicably clutching something in his right hand. Prying back the tidy fingers with all the gentleness her exhaustion must have allowed her, we can only ever wonder what she must have made of what she found in her infant's grasp. A black clot of blood, the size of a knuckle bone. Thanks for listening. The French Revolution set Europe ablaze. It was an age of enlightenment and progress, but also of tyranny and oppression. It was an age of glory and an age of tragedy. One man stood above it all. This was the Age of Napoleon. I'm Everett Rummage, host of the Age of Napoleon podcast. Join me as I examine the life and times of one of the most fascinating and enigmatic characters in modern history.

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