The History of China - #251 - Ming 36: The Final Showdown

Episode Date: March 18, 2023

Please take a few minutes to help out the show by taking the Airwave listener survey! Thank you in advance! www.surveymonkey.com/r/airwave  We revisit the pivotal Battle of Sarhu of 1619/20, but this time from the Ming perspective. Then we'll finally send the Wanli Emperor into his tomb and take stock of his reign and legacy, before getting into our final few emperors Great Ming has left in the tank. Time Period Covered: 1619-1621 CE Major Historical Figures: Ming: The Wanli Emperor (Zhu Yujin) [r. 1572-1620] The Taichang Emperor (Zhu Changluo) [r. 1620-1620] The Tianqi Emperor (Zhu Youjiao) [r. 1620-1627] Consort Li Supreme Commander Yang Hao [d. 1629] General Du Song, "The Madman" [d. 1619] General Ma Lin [d. 1619] General Li Rubo [d. 1621] General Liu Ting [d. 1619] Manchu/Later Jin: Nurhachi [r. 1616-1626] Amba Beile Daisan [1583-1648] Hong Taiji [1592-1643] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

You're listening to an the Ancient World Podcast. Available on all podcasting platforms or go to ancientworldpodcast.com. That's the Ancient World Podcast. Hello, and welcome to the History of China. Episode 251, The Last Showdown. We start today out with another look at one of the most famous, or perhaps infamous, battles between the aged and ailing Ming Empire and the up-and-coming Manchu Qing force rising to challenge it, that is, the Liaodong Campaign of 1619-1620, and specifically, the Battle of Sarhu.

Now, I know that we already went over this in our last episode on Nihachi, but today, in keeping with our renewed focus on the Chinese side of things, I'd like to look at the battle with more of a Ming perspective. As we well know by now, the Wanli Emperor in 1619 continued his nearly two decade-long filibustering of his own government, locking himself away in his private palace and refusing to attend court or make executive decisions of any sort in sort of a silent sit-in protest of his own minister's rapacious and self-serving methods, to such an extent that he had ground many even day-to-day functions of the Ming central government to a standstill. Yet even the recalcitrant Wanli was unable to remain impassive in the face of the Manchu Khan, Nurhachi's, demands for territorial cessions and what amounted to annual tribute payments in the form of gold,

silver, and silks, as per the terms of the Northerners' Seven Grievances. That was well beyond the pale of what any self-respecting Ming emperor could possibly agree to, a fact that well understood. From Rei Huang, quote, He, meaning Nurhaci, called Du Song, the Ming commander at Shanghai Pass who had a reputation for rashness, Du the madman. In general, he regarded the Chinese with hatred and contempt, but ironically, he never lacked Chinese advisors. One of them is said to have served him for 30 years, end quote. Down in Beijing, Wanli at last stirred to action, reportedly studying the official papers on the situation in and around Liaodong for several months, before at last rallying his armies and formulating a military response to such naked aggression. This punitive expedition

was set to launch in the early spring of 1619, with a controversial pick of Yang Hao as its commander-in-chief, with several other top-ranking generals especially selected to serve underneath him. From all across the Ming Empire, manpower and weaponry were drawn, from as far off as Zhejiang and Sichuan far to the south. When even this was deemed insufficient, further troops were either conscripted from the peasantry or asked of both the Ming allies, Korea and Yehe. Unsurprisingly, for the late Ming period, the major hitch in this operation was, as ever, financing. The revenue surplus from once upon a time had long ago been spent,

and the normal levels of taxation were completely unable to cover such a massive new undertaking. As for the emperor himself, well, he had millions upon millions of tails of silver in his personal palace treasury, yet was loath to part with any of it, even for such a task as confronting the rising might of Nihachi's Manchu force. In the end, Wanli did cave to pressure to directly contribute, though only the paltry sum of 100,000 tales. In fact, his legendary stinginess would be one of the reasons, along with his purposeful paralyzing of the apparatus of government for two decades, that later generations would so denigrate his memory and legacy, ascribing Ming's imminent fall to the Manchus as largely

due to Wanli's unwillingness to serve the greater good, either governmentally or financially. But that, at least, is an analysis for another time. Instead of relying on the sovereign's treasure hoard, the imperial minister of revenue decided to pay for the military operation by adding a silver surcharge to all land taxes except for the province of Guizhou. All in all, this was expected to be able to meet the estimated cost of the anti-Manchu campaign of some 3 million tails of silver. So it was that the Ming army set out for Liaodong in force, with a nominal troop number of 200,000, though Huang notes that the actual number may have been just half that, consisting of about maybe 83,000 Chinese troops,

with many assigned to non-combat roles of supply and service. They would be going up against the sum total of Nurhaci's forces, which, at its height, probably numbered no more than 50 or 60,000. Yet this 3-2 numerical advantage was utterly squandered by the Ming commander, Yang Hao, when he, as we did discuss last episode, decided to divide his force not just in half, but into quarters, in an ill-advised attempt to surround Nurhaci's army and prevent any route of escape. That would prove to be the Ming expedition's complete undoing. By dividing his force as such, that allowed Nurhaci and his forces to engage and defeat each of the Ming armies one after the next, all while retaining numerical advantage over each prong. Huang comments, quote, In retrospect, Yonghao's war plan deserved every criticism it received. That war plan, however, was similar to the one used at the end of the Korean War.

Such plans were usually put forth by civil officials rather than field commanders. It was customary for civil officials to be commissioned as supreme commanders, but professional soldiers were not expected to rise above the rank of field marshal. Usually, a general officer who commanded an army corps had reached the pinnacle of his career. As such, each of the four military commanders under the civil official Yang Hao not only could not contradict his feckless plan to divide his own force in order to conquer, but in addition, none of them had any experience leading units larger than the ones that they were currently in charge of. They were professionally incapable of directing war efforts at a higher strategic level, while the man in charge of such planning had no military experience

or feel of how his grand strategy would actually play out on the ground. Yang Hao, the Ming equivalent of Lieutenant Gorman trying to command Hicks, Hudson, and Vasquez on Hadley's Hope. Best of luck. Nor was command and experience the only source of woe for this Ming misadventure. Rather, that was compounded and multiplied by that long-time bugaboo of expeditions, lack of technical and logistical support. The Ming military was financed through a number of different conduits, which were spread far and wide across the empire. Yet at any point, the majority of its equipment came from local levies rather than an equitable

or standardized method of requisition. Quality control, therefore, could not be expected. From Huang, quote, Western visitors to China in the late 16th century almost unanimously held that the Chinese army was poor in combat, but whatever it lacked in quality, it made up for in numbers, end quote. During the prior war against Japan and Korea, for instance, contemporary Korean chroniclers of the conflict reported with evident horror of seeing Chinese human wave attacks of soldiers without any form of armor, attacking Japanese musket formations head-on and being, of course, devastated. What was more, such massive armies, as such, could not be effectively commanded or maneuvered once engaged in battle. Instead, any particular

arm of such a force relied on the individual initiative of an elite corps of highly seasoned fighters, sort of hero units to borrow a gaming term, to open up avenues of attack so that the bulk of the soldiers could then swarm in behind them, sustain the momentum of the attack, and exploit the results. These incredibly valuable groups of hero units, therefore, had to lead from the front again and again, valiantly throwing themselves into the most dangerous of circumstances in order to just get anything worth noting done at all. Suffice it to say, this did not a stable military operation make. That is essentially how Rui Huang describes all of the Ming field commanders of the 1690 campaign, as these kind of hero units, capable of great acts of frontline valiance and inspiring to their own men, but without any larger sense of strategy or overall command. From him, quote,

None of them qualified as a sound, let alone ingenious strategist, but their bravery in action was well established. In battle, they were expected to take charge with their household men, battalions of veterans who had pledged to survive or perish with their commanding generals, end quote. Under such limitations as to the abilities of the command staff itself, the Ming Supreme Commander, Yang Hao, necessarily needed to keep any strategy of his relatively simple. Once the overall strategy had been settled upon, Yang Hao officiated a ceremony in front of most of the officers that were to lead the assault on Nurhaci's headquarters at Hetuala. In the course of this ceremony, part of the proceedings had a colonel brought forth

who had been deemed to have, during the previous year's campaign, not advanced vigorously enough, and then executed him in front of the gathered officers. Young then promised that he would mete out the same fate to anyone, from generals on down, should they repeat the dispatched colonel's error. Which, I guess, is certainly one form of encouragement? Message received, advance vigorously. The weather, however, would prove to be rather less than cooperative. Though several columns, depending on the distance that they would need

to march to reach their allotted positions on time, were dispatched on April 5th, the main thrust of the attack had to be hastily rescheduled to April 9th due to an unexpectedly heavy snowfall the week prior. Yang Hao's four-pronged attack depended on Nurhachi responding to it in the precise way that Yang Hao expected him to, namely that the Manchu leader would either play defense and button up within Hetu Allah itself, thereby allowing the Ming forces to surround and besiege his position, or else that he spread his forces out widely in order to engage all the Ming attackers at once, thereby allowing the divided Ming forces to yet retain their numerical superiority. Unfortunately for them all, Nurhachi wasn't about to play by Yang Hao's rulebook,

and instead chose door number three. The majority of the blame for the Ming's onrushing fiasco at Sarhu would ultimately fall upon the madman Du Song, who commanded a force of about 25,000 soldiers. He and his company would fall into not one, but two ambushes back to back. Early on in April 14th, he crossed the Hun River and abandoned his battalion of battle wagons, which were loaded with light guns on the northern shore. In skirmishes on the southern shore, he quickly eliminated two enemy barriers and captured 14 Manchus. Encouraged by this success, he dashed forward right into Narhachi's ambush. His forces were confronted by 30,000 Mongols. During the intense fighting, Du Song attempted to occupy the mountaintop, only to fall into yet another ambush. By that evening, both Du Song and virtually the entirety of his 25,000-strong force had been annihilated.

Imperial censorial officials would later report to the court in Beijing their findings that Duzong had committed the sin of avidity for personal merit, and had thus moved up his force's start date without authorization, abandoned his firearms, crossed the Hun River against the advice of his subordinates, and joined battle with his force's back pressed against a body of water. The Wanli Emperor accepted these charges, a decision undoubtedly made easier since Du was already dead and thus made a convenient scapegoat. But Huang points out that, with the benefit of distance and further historical evidence, many of these seemingly damning charges were unjustly leveled upon the unfortunate general furnished by four soldiers, three of whom had been on reconnaissance duty and only one of whom actually fought in the battle. The critics made no allowance for the undue pressure put upon the

commanding generals by their supreme commander. In fact, Du Song's force was supposed to set out on 14 April. He actually started at midnight between 13 and 14 April, which was not technically at variance with his orders. His tactical errors could be tied to the lack of adequate reconnaissance. Yet, once his forces were committed, Du had to secure his position by occupying the dominant height. The battle wagon battalion was not left behind as a result of a command decision. In a hurry to meet the enemy, Dusong rushed to the front. Later, the battalion commander testified that the swift current of the Huan River made crossing with heavy equipment and gunpowder difficult, so he had held

up his advance. But the frontline troops still had a number of muskets, end quote. In fact, for all the emphasis put on the use, or lack thereof, of firearms, they never had a decisive effect in this battle or any other of the campaign. Subsequent battles at Siangjian and Niomaozhai would amply demonstrate that Chinese and Korean light guns simply could not be fired fast enough to break the massive cavalry formations fielded by the Manchu and Mongol forces, who charged their line undeterred by such firepower. The battle at Siangjian on the 15th of April 1619 repeated the previous day's pattern of fighting. Again, the Chinese tactical command divided itself. Again, Nurhaci eliminated the detached salience of his enemy

force before attacking the main body of the army. Again, the Ming forces were unable to move swiftly enough to seize the tactical advantage when Nurhaci redeployed his banners. The only difference here was that in this battle, the Ming army had the time to take up defensive positions. The Manchus, on the other hand, had a successful day of hard fighting behind them. At Siangjiaoyan, the Chinese commanding general, Ma Lin, survived the battle and retreated to safety. Pan Zongyan, the ranking civil official attached to his command who supervised the rear echelon, was killed in action. The Chinese soldiers, disheartened by the news of Dusong's defeat on the previous day, stampeded at the sight of the enemy. Pan's fatal wound was caused by an arrow to the back. These two days of engagements wiped out the northern sector of the Ming front.

Only Li Rubo and Liu Ting remained in the south. Nurhaci began to breathe more easily. He dispatched two vanguard units made up of Mongol components, one consisting of 1,000 cavalrymen on April 15th and another of 2,000 mounts on the 16th. That done, he took the time to thank heaven for his victory by sacrificing eight oxen on Jabyan. It was only late on April 16th that he set out for the south. He himself never went beyond Hetuala. He held 4,000 troops at the capital as a precaution against Li Rubo's advance from Yagu Pass. The operation against Liu Ting was directed by his son, Amba Beile. Another son, Hong Taiji, and his nephew, Amin Taiji, also took part in this campaign.

According to Manchu sources, the Battle of Niumaojai took place on the fourth day after the decision to move south had been made, which would place it on or about April 20th. The battle at Niu Maozhai was fought without Yang Hao's prior knowledge and against his wishes. After the collapse of the northern front, the supreme commander immediately ordered the two southern columns to stop their advance. Li Rubou, who was operating on the most difficult area and had only made contact with Manchu scouts, pulled out in time to avoid for the disaster. But Liu Ting never received his orders. When the Manchu assault fell on him, his column remained in a marching formation. Korean sources said that the soldiers were then looting in the villages. The ineffectiveness of the Chinese communication system was all too evident.

Yet, according to the Manchu sources, Liu Ting's forces had been able to withstand the initial wave of Amba Bela's attack. The Chinese general was leading his Ming units at the front of the column, followed by Korean troops carrying muskets. Still further behind them was the balance of Korean infantry. To renew the assault, the Manchus sent cavalry squadrons to slip through these formations and occupy the heights to their west. The frontal assault was aided by a downhill charge conducted by Hong Taiji against the flank. When the Chinese were routed, their commanding general perished with them. Subsequently, the Chinese claimed that Liu Ting was killed in action. The Manchus said that he was captured and then executed, and the Koreans say that he committed

suicide by igniting gunpowder under himself. Within a week, the Manchus had won a series of dazzling victories in one battle after another. Three months after the campaign, Nurhaci took Kaiyuan, killing Ma Lin. Seven weeks after that, he entered Tieling in triumph. The remaining Jurchen tribes were annexed. Beijing finally had to order the arrest of Yang Hao. The subsequent death sentence hung over his head for over a decade, and he finally met the executioner's sword only in 1629. Li Rubuo, the only surviving field commander among the original four, was arrested a year and a half after his withdrawal on the orders of his supreme commander. He chose to commit suicide rather than face the charges that he and his family had fraternized with the Manchu leader. of Egypt podcast. Every week, we explore the tales of this amazing culture, from the legendary days

of creation and the gods, all the way to Cleopatra, and everything in between. The History of Egypt podcast is written and produced by a trained Egyptologist. We go much deeper than your average documentary or magazine article, to uncover tales of life, great endeavors, and the amazing arc of a mighty kingdom. The History of Egypt podcast is available on all podcasting platforms, apps, and websites. Come, visit ancient Egypt and experience a legendary legendary culture. After the news about the setback in Liaodong had reached Beijing, food prices in the capital suddenly soared as residents began to sense the possibility of a siege. Early in 1620, the army reported that desertions were occurring at an unprecedented rate. Sometimes units as large as battalion and regimental size disappeared overnight. Soldiers ran away by the thousands.

The surtaxes on the land, originally earmarked to be in effect for one year only, could not be discontinued. Instead, they were increased. The Ming court was still able to find a capable replacement for Yang Hao in the figure of Xiong Tingbi, who was nonetheless viciously attacked by his partisan enemies. The Wanli Emperor, still grudgingly resisting proposals to release the silver bullion from his private horde, died in the summer of 1620. About three months before his death, he told his Grand Secretary, Fang Congzhe, that the discord between and among civil and military officials in Liaodong had led to the catastrophe. It's ironic that the Wanli Emperor, who had passed judgment on so

many others, died without knowing of the judgment historians would eventually pass upon him. Even though he was very ill in his last days, dizzy, bedridden, and unable to even read the memorials that were brought to him, as the son of heaven, he was still held responsible for all that went wrong in the empire. The fact that he was ill and could do little to change the organization of the empire made no difference. Someone had to bear the ultimate blame, and that person was the emperor. Although the last few years of the Wanli reign had been disastrous politically, economically, and particularly militarily, most keen observers in 1620 were far from convinced that the dynasty's cause was hopeless. Indeed, in spite of the political

corruption and imperial languor that gripped the capital, the Wanli cause was hopeless. Indeed, in spite of the political corruption and imperial languor that gripped the capital, the Wanli period was, paradoxically enough, one of great creativity. Works now deemed classic that were produced in this period include Li Shijun's Compendium of Materia Medica, Tang Xianzu's The Peony Pavilion, Wu Cheng'en's Journey to the West, and The Golden Lotus, attributed to the scoffing scholar of Lanling. The curator of the Capital Museum in Beijing, Zhang Wanyong, stated of the complexities of the era, quote, although politics was corrupt in the Wanli period, society, economy, technology, and culture had great achievements. This is a very important issue. You can't say Wanli promoted

all this, but he didn't prevent it, end quote. The renowned Italian Jesuit Matteo Ricci, or Li Maodou as he's known in China, and his colleagues were the first Westerners allowed to reside in the Ming capital, beginning in 1601. Although Wanli would not break his strike to meet with them or to answer their letters, he nonetheless gave them an allowance and land for a church and graveyard. Gifts from the Jesuits included Ricci's world map, the Chinese version of Euclid's Elements, and his own book, The True Meaning of the Lord in Heaven, which purportedly first introduced the concept of the seven-day week to China.

Another example of China's growing contact with the West is the blue and white porcelain first exported to Europe in the 30th year of Wanli's reign, known as crack. Apparently, after the Portuguese ships or carareks transported it, this porcelain became extremely popular. Wanli's tomb, known as Dingling, began construction when he was 20 years old. This massive underground complex, whose biggest pieces of granite used were transported in carts pulled by 1,600 mules each, included a mysterious palace in which Wanli, the empress, and the mother of whoever

was selected as his heir would be placed after their deaths, alongside objects like gold chopsticks, a shiny cobalt blue icebox, and piles of gold and silver ingots. They were to be waited upon by scores of doll-sized wooden eunuchs. Because Wanli finally gave in to his officials and chose his firstborn son as heir, it would be Lady Wang who accompanied him in death rather than his beloved Lady Zheng. For almost 240 years, there Wanli would remain entombed and at rest, until, that is, yet more misfortune would visit him post-mortem. In 1956, the excavation of his tomb, the first such attempt by the nascent People's Republic, was badly botched, with so many objects destroyed that China has never again authorized the opening of an imperial tomb.

Further calamity struck a decade later, during the darkest depths of the disastrous Cultural Revolution. Particularly zealous high school and university students, under the banner of the Maoist Red Guards, stormed and raided the Dingling Mausoleum complex, dragging out the skeletons of Wan Li, his empress, and Lady Wang, denounced them as counter-revolutionary relics of ancient culture that must be destroyed, and then torched them all in a public bonfire. The poor guy just couldn't seem to catch a break. Back in 1620, however, even those that had thought that there was still hope of the Ming dynasty had to acknowledge that there were serious problems to be faced. That April, for example,

land taxes were increased for the third time since the military emergency in the northeast had become serious in 1618. Because it was known that the Wanli emperor's personal treasury was far from empty, and that he simply refused to spend his own resources for defense of the empire, this increase caused great unhappiness at court and throughout the realm. Speaking for many of his colleagues, the censor Zhang Qian bluntly warned the throne in the summer of 1620 that the continual raising of taxes might not save Liaodong, but could exhaust the resources of the rest of the country, thus creating the conditions for internal rebellion. And that is what we call foreshadowing.

Zhang, who died a heroic death in 1621 and was posthumously honored by the court for his courage and loyalty, was not opposed to military action per se. He simply believed that the Chinese had to meet the Manchu threat in full recognition of the dynasty's limited resources. In view of the disasters suffered by Ming forces in the northeast during the previous two years, this position was probably a reasonable one. Nevertheless, it was successfully opposed by rash elements at court and in the military, with ultimately catastrophic results for the Chinese side. Although Zhang Qian's memorial had no immediate effect on government policy, his warnings about the danger of internal disorder were not without basis, for reports

of a new wave of anti-government activity in North China were even then reaching Beijing. Much of this activity was spearheaded by members of the so-called White Lotus Society, who we've heard from before, a quasi-religious group that had caused considerable trouble earlier in the dynasty and that had once again become active as economic conditions in Shandong and Beizheli began to deteriorate late in the Wanli reign. Thus, the Ming authorities were doubly threatened when, not long before the Wanli emperor's death on August 18th, 1620, Manchu forces followed their spectacular victories of the previous year with destructive raids against Chinese settlements and military outposts in various parts of Liaodong. These dangers and difficulties notwithstanding,

many people living in Beijing in 1620, including the small number of Jesuits who had been permitted to reside there by the court, viewed the end of the Wanli reign after 48 years, many of which had been filled with controversy, as an opportunity for the dynasty to make a new beginning. The hopes of many people centered on the heir apparent, Zhu Tangle, who had been named heir to the throne in 1601 after a long and acrimonious succession dispute between the Wanli emperor and his ministers. In part because Tangle had not been his father's choice, and in part because the two had never been after a long and acrimonious succession dispute between the Wanli Emperor and his ministers. In part because Chang'e had not been his father's choice, and in part because the two had never been close, supporters of the new emperor hoped that he would move quickly to reverse some of his father's more objectionable policies and to implement what they believed to be essential reforms.

In this, they would not be disappointed. On August 19th, 1620, only a day after the Wanli Emperor's death and a fortnight before Changle officially assumed power, one million tails of silver were released from the palace treasury for use in border defense. At the same time, the mining and commercial taxes, which have been a source of great controversy since the 1590s, were abolished, and the Wanli Emperor's hated eunuch tax commissioners were recalled from the provinces. Whether Zhu Changle issued these orders in accordance with the will or posthumous instructions of his father, who was reported to have finally acknowledged the error of his ways on his deathbed, cannot be known for sure. Posthumous instructions in late imperial China were frequently altered to suit the needs and desires of a new ruler or the dominant faction at court.

What is quite clear is that Cheng Le continued to delight his father's former critics. On August 21st, he released another million tales from the imperial household funds for use in Liaodong. The new emperor was formally enthroned on August 28th, and, as was customary for these occasions, announced that the first day of the next lunar month, which would be the 22nd of January, 1621, would mark the official beginning of his reign. For his reign title, Zhu Chengle chose the term Taichang, which brings to mind an image of great peace and prosperity. In this way, the emperor and his advisors proclaimed their determination to reverse the decline of the dynasty's fortunes that had marked the Wanli emperor's last years on the throne. Of all the problems confronting this new Taichung emperor when

he came to power, perhaps none demanded more immediate attention than the staffing of the imperial bureaucracy. For more than two decades before his death, the Wanli emperor had ignored his minister's pleas to fill official posts that had become vacant. Consequently, by the summer of 1620, many ministries and offices in Beijing and elsewhere were seriously understaffed, and bureaucratic morale and efficiency were at a low ebb. Acting promptly, the new emperor recalled to office a number of men who had either been dismissed by his father or had resigned in protest over the handling of government affairs. Among the first to be recalled were Zhou Yuanbiao and Feng Zongwu,

both of whom were associated with what had come to be known as the Donglin Movement. This movement actually comprised two related but not identical groups. The first consisted of disgruntled scholars and ex-officials who gathered at the Donglin Academy near Wuxi in the Yangtze Delta for lectures and philosophical discussions dedicated to fostering a moral revival throughout Chinese society. Convinced that the corruption and immorality of the times stemmed from the decline of traditional Confucian education and values, they believed that a return to good government and a properly functioning society would be possible only when dedicated teachers were once again prodding upright officials and scholars. The second group was

more directly political in nature, and was, quote, represented by men involved in continuing partisan controversies at court who sought to restore integrity to the government's service, end quote. These men did have ties with the Donglin Academy, but unlike many Academy members, were political activists. However bitterly they might disagree on specific issues, their political aims and ideals were sufficiently in accord for their enemies to label them a faction, a term loaded with negative connotations in a society that placed high value on loyalty, consensus, and political unity. The Donglin activists responded in kind, and their battles with other factions at court became a prominent political feature of the Wanli reign. Of particular significance here

is the fact that men subsequently identified with the Donglin cause had supported Zhu Changle in the 1580s and 1590s during the controversy over the imperial succession. And while his precise political intentions are unknown, Zhu seems to have been willing to reward them generously when he finally came to the throne. Indeed, for a short time, in August and September of 1620, it must have appeared that Zhou Yuanbiao, Feng Zhongwu, and their friends would take control of the government. Then, disaster struck, at least for those who were counting on the Taichung Emperor to push through governmental reforms. On September 6th, one day after appointing several Donglin partisans to important positions in the bureaucracy, the 38-year-old emperor fell seriously ill. Almost immediately, the capital was filled with rumors of an assassination plot and related

palace intrigues, which reportedly involved consorts of both the Wanli and Taichung emperors, imperial eunuchs, and assorted palace functionaries. Although the details are unclear, it is said that not long after the Taichung emperor became ill, a eunuch associated with Lady Zheng, the consort whose son had been the Taichung emperor's chief rival for the succession, gave the emperor some medicine which caused uncontrollable diarrhea. For a time, the Emperor continued to get some work done from his bed, but by September 17th, he weakened and shortly thereafter began to speak openly of his impending death. Finally, on September 25th, he ordered that a minor official who claimed to possess a miracle

drug be brought to his chambers. Despite warnings from his ministers and court physicians that the medicine was of dubious value, the Taichung Emperor took two doses of red pills prepared by this official. He died about dawn the following morning, and recriminations over what came to be known as the Red Pill Case, or the Hongwan An, were to color political debate for years to come. From the moment word of the Taichung Emperor's illness spread, court officials, including such Donglin stalwarts as the supervising secretary to the Ministry of War, Yang Lian, and the censor, Zhou Guangde, became concerned lest imperial power fall into unscrupulous hands inside the palace.

Some of their fears stemmed from the fact that the motherless 14-year-old heir apparent, Zhu Yujiao, was rumored to be under the influence of the Taichung Emperor's favorite consort, Lady Li. She had political ambitions of her own, and at an audience with his ministers not long before he died, she interrupted the Emperor, demanding to be made Empress, a position that would have given her considerable legal authority over the heir. The Emperor had refused, a decision which indicated that he, too, mistrusted her. When they learned of the Emperor's death on the morning of September 26th, Yang Lian, Grand Secretary Liu Yijing, and other leading officials went to the Qianqing Palace,

where they asked to see the heir apparent. At first, the request was denied by eunuchs sympathetic to Consort Li. Led by Yang, the officials forced their way into the palace and demanded to know where Zhu Yujiao was being kept. A eunuch who had previously cooperated with Donglin elements on other matters then escorted the prince out to see them. He was taken to the nearby Wenhua Palace, where he was formally greeted by the officials as the next emperor. The political battle that ensued at court was vicious. Although Zhu Yujiao had been removed from her control, Consort Li refused to leave the Qianqing Palace, asserting that the prince needed her support and guidance in personal and

official matters. But Yanglian, Zhou Guangde, and other Donglin leaders, having just lost an emperor whom they had waited for more than 20 years to serve and from whom they had expected to receive political support, were in no mood to hand over the heir apparent to someone they deeply mistrusted. Pointing out the impropriety of an unmarried male living under the same roof with a woman who was neither his mother nor his father's legal wife, Zhou practically accused Consort Li of plotting to usurp the throne, just as the infamous Empress Wu had done during the Tang Dynasty. This and similar statements outraged the consort and her supporters, but they achieved the desired effect. On September 30th, she moved to another residence in the Forbidden City.

Although the Donglin forces had won an important victory, the struggle for power continued unabated. Indeed, what quickly became known as the Change of Palace Case, or Yigong'an, was just beginning. But that's where we are going to leave off for today. Next time, we will launch into the reign of the Tianqi Emperor, who is the 16th and penultimate monarch of the Great Ming Dynasty, and will take us almost all the way through the 1620s, as the world continues to collapse around the increasingly paralyzed and ineffective Ming Empire. Thanks for listening. 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. From a revolution of hope and liberty to the infamous reign of terror, you can't understand the modern world without understanding the French Revolution. So search for the French Revolution today.