The History of China - #56 - 16K 9: The Two Deaths Of Jin

Episode Date: March 6, 2015

We track back down south to discover what's been going on with the Jin Dynasty. An imbecile emperor will precipitate multiple governmental crises, ultimately resulting in overthrow, restoration, and then second overthrow the the dynasty. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

You're listening to an Airwave Media Podcast. 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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and producer of spoken audio content. Again, sign up for your free 30-day trial with free audiobook of your choice at audibletrial.com slash t-h-o-c. Hello, and welcome to the History of China. Episode 54, The Two Deaths of Jin Last episode, the Tuoba clan of Northern Wei had seized control of most of the north, and we left off with the beginning of Emperor Mingyuan's reign in 409.

This time, we head back down south for the first time in a long time, and take a look at just what had been going on in Jin as the north continued to eat its own. We begin by jumping back a few years and filling out what we can of the state, as it was before and after the Battle of Fei River in 383, which, as we discussed two episodes ago, broke the southern offensive of former Qin and precipitated its ultimate downfall shortly thereafter. Now in 383, the emperor of Jin was called Xiaowu,

who had taken the throne at only 10 years of old back in 373, and as such, his mother, the Empress Dowager, and her advisors would hold the reins of government until he was of age. That day would come upon Emperor Xiaowu's 14th birthday, when his mother voluntarily ceded her governmental powers back to him in 376, an, I'm sure you'll agree, exceedingly rare peaceful transfer of power in this age of disunity. Granted, many of the actual state decisions were still made by the Duke of Luling and the Jin Prime Minister, a revered figure in southern Chinese history by the name of Xie An, but hey, you take what you can get. Prime Minister Xie An's deeds and actions were so highly regarded among both his contemporaries

and subsequent generations that the Xie family line would come to be revered south of the Yellow River alongside those of the true-blooded imperial clans. And with good reason, too. It was largely due to Xie An's wise leadership and wartime decision-making in spite of, it ought to be noted, his total lack of personal military experience, that would see Jin survive the decade-long war against Fu Jian and his former Qin. In spite of the barbarian encroachments, the central imperial government was coherent enough and of a unified enough mind to maintain a united front against the external threat.

No mean feat, as we'll come to see by the episode's end. Since we've already covered the stunning reversal of fortunes along the banks of Fei River, we'll go ahead and not rehash it, but instead leap ahead to its aftermath. You might think such a stunning victory would have been wonderful news for both the Jin Imperial Court as well as the Prime Minister, who had been the mastermind behind the whole operation. And to be sure, in a certain sense it certainly was. Which is to say, Jin was not completely overrun and conquered in 383. But in another sense, with the loss of its major external threat as former Qin imploded

in on itself, all those long-standing tensions, personal vendettas, and greedy ambitions existential crises tend to plaster over, once again began bursting forth to the surface of the dynasty. Prime Minister Xie An, again the guy who had made victory against the North even possible in spite of long odds, paradoxically found himself on the outs following his victory at Fei River. Though he would retain his title, the poisoned words of his own jealous and slighted son-in-law found their way to Emperor Xiaowu's ears, and Xie'an would find little reward indeed in victory. He would fall upon hard times until his death in 385.

As for the Emperor himself, Xiaowu had become comfortable enough on the throne to have lost himself at the bottom of a wine cup, becoming uninterested in the affairs of state, and just generally carrying around an attitude of not giving a single care to the effects of his decisions. Infamously, he would in 387 name his appointed heir to the throne of Jin, his son Sima De Zhong. Prince De Zhong was not just a five-year-old kid, but one so severely developmentally disabled that throughout his entire life he would never be capable of speech, dressing himself, or even seeming to realize whether he was hungry or full. And it would be this

fateful decision that would ultimately spell the final doom of the Jin Dynasty. Emperor Xiaowu's own fate is particularly notable. By 396, he had been heavily favoring his beautiful consort Zhang, who was by then approaching 30. At a feast late that autumn, he drunkenly quipped at her, Based on your age, you should yield your position. I desire someone younger. Consort Zhang was both deeply hurt and embarrassed,

but for the time being hid her feelings well. That night, however, as the emperor lay blackout drunk in his bed, she bought off his attendant eunuchs with gifts of wine and then ordered her personal servants to place a blanket over his face until he suffocated. And that just

goes to show you, hell hath no fury like a woman told she looks old. Xiaowu, dying rather suddenly at the age of only 34, would have at almost any other time raised considerable suspicion within the imperial court. But Lady Zhang liberally greased the palms of enough attendants to make sure they didn't raise too much of a fuss over the old drunken fool's passing. Moreover, with the late monarch's brother being pretty much an heirhead, and his son an heir about the mental age of two, the issue wound up being pretty much just dropped, and Consort Zhang's story,

that he died of natural causes in his sleep, was the one that stuck. So, once again, fellas, the takeaway from all this should be as follows. If you value the breath in your chest, never, but never, joke about your wife's age. The following day, 15-year-old Crown Prince Sima Dezong ascended to the throne of Jin as Emperor An. And by ascended, yes, I mean he almost certainly had to be led around by the hand. Again, this was a guy who could not speak, clothe, or even bathe himself. The roll of the monarchical dice had come up snake eyes. Since he was quite evidently incapable of ruling so much as his own bowels,

much less a kingdom, actual power was entrusted to his uncle, the brother of the late Xiaowu, Prince Sima Daozi of Kuaiji, who I'll from here on out just refer to as Regent Daozi. As I mentioned before, Daozi was not known for being a particularly bright bulb himself, and like his brother before him, had taken a rather unhealthy liking to drink as well as pandering and naked flattery from his subordinates. Predictably, the regency quickly fell into a cycle of corruption and incompetence, and by 397, less than a year after this new administration had come

into being, rebellions from the northern provinces of Jin threatened to destabilize the entire dynasty. These uprisings were briefly subdued, but only by acceding to their demands, and then only to see them rise again when their military commanders disapproved of these central administration's decisions. Nice job, guys. Even a magician of all people got in on the act. One Sun Tai, who was revealed to be plotting to use his friendship with Regent Dao Zi's son to take over the central government in what might have been the biggest sleight-of-hand trick

of all time, if it had worked. Instead, the Jin court was the one to pull a magic trick on Sun Tai, by making his head disappear. In the summer of 399, Dao Zi's heir, Sima Yuanxian, decided that he wasn't going to wait for his father to die before inheriting his position. So when Dao Zi was, like his brother before him, blackout drunk. His son borrowed the imperial seals from Emperor An, because it's not like he was going to say no, and issued an imperial proclamation transferring virtually all of the regent's powers to himself. When Daudza finally managed to rouse himself from his slumber, he was, understandably, rather ticked off with his son for such a naked power

grab. But with his power having been stripped by nothing less than an imperial edict, there was little he could do. Daozi was out, Yuan Xian was in. Of course, by this time, the power of the central Jin government had become so diluted that in practice it yet controlled only the province that surrounded the capital itself. This was in no small part due to Sima Yuanxian's continuing and furthering many of his father's policies of being an arrogant, wasteful, and generally insufferable prick. The rest of Jin, though still nominally paying allegiance to the imperial seat, was in truth now controlled by the whims of their respective warlords. Of the warlords that continued to vie amongst themselves,

one in particular had by the year 400 distinguished himself above all others, General Huang Xuan. From very early on, at least as early as 391, Huang had basically made it his life's goal to be somebody. As such, by 400, with the timely help of a seasonal flood destroying croplands and sapping his rival's army's morale, he had managed, by hook or by crook, to seize absolute control over more than two-thirds of the Jin Empire.

Now, a smarter man might have looked at the warlord commanding well over half the country and thought, eh, maybe we can work something out. Maybe I can fold General Huan into our administration or something with the right promotion. But Regent Yuan Xuan was, well, not a smarter man. And so, faced with Huangquan's vastly larger army, territory, and strength, Yuan Xuan, of course, declared him a rebel and ordered what forces still pledged him fealty to attack. This as-yet-loyalist force was headed by the military commander

on which the Jin regent had for years now placed his entire faith, General Liu Laozhi. But that little caveat, the as-yet loyal, should have already given the whole game away. General Liu, as it were, had grown distrustful and contemptuous of his imperial masters, who had no military experience to speak of yet ordered him around as though he were Cao Cao himself. As such, when the rebel Huang Xuan's emissaries reached General Liu's war camps with offers of alliance, it may not have taken all that much to flip the general. But whatever the terms, flip Liu did. As Huang advanced on the Jin capital of Nanjing, then known as Jiankang,

Liu turned against Sima Yuanxuan. But it was at this point, once Huan Xuan held total control of the Jin dynasty, thanks in no small part to the treachery of Liu Laozhi, that General Liu learned the true wages of betrayal. Huan stripped the general of his command and sent him away. After all, who could possibly trust a man such as Liu, one who would turn on his master at the drop of a hat? Not Huan Xuan, that was for certain. General Liu, suddenly booted on his hindquarters, once again tried to take his army and rise up in rebellion. But his men had grown tired of such ventures and deserted his cause in the winter of 401,

leading the once great commander to ignominiously take his own life. Huan Xuan, master of all he surveyed, began what amounted to his reign, idiot Emperor An notwithstanding, to much applause. His inaugural acts as regent were wildly popular with the populace, and included such measures as reforms of the imperial power structure and peace overtures to rebel factions. Once the honeymoon period wore off, however, it quickly became apparent that Regent Huan, like those he had succeeded, was rather fond of the finer things in life, as well as displaying a rather disquieting comfort with changing laws and regulations on a whim. By 403, all of this came to a head when Huang Xuan forced the emperor

to give him the Nine Bestowments, which you may recall were the set of privileges, even at the time, infamous for only being bestowed upon a regent who intended to usurp the throne for himself. It definitely seems strange from a modern standpoint that would-be usurpers would so clearly betray their intentions by adhering to, over the course of centuries even, a prescribed method for announcing their intent to illegally seize the throne. But, on the other hand, it may have been a very effective way to feel out the idea of usurpation. Sort of an, oh, the Emperor has bestowed upon me these honors. What an unexpected boon.

How do you feel about that? Wink wink. Nudge nudge. Moreover, Huangquan proved himself quickly to be both wishy-washy and a coward. To wit, he would first issue an order in Emperor An's name, mobilizing Jin's armies against Formachine in 401, but quickly following that up with yet another edict countermanding the first. He also ordered a ship to be filled with treasures and luxuries,

and to be put on alert and ready to ferry him and him only to safety, should things ever go wrong. In the winter of 403, Huang Xuan had Emperor An issue an edict outright ceding the throne to his regent. Now, according to the traditional sources, Huang Xuan had forced Emperor An to personally write this decree. But this seems unlikely at best, both because the brain-addled Emperor likely couldn't have voluntarily picked up a pen to save his life,

and because ultimately, within the Chinese imperial system, this sort of a detail didn't really matter. By the by, imperial authority was granted through the presence, or absence, of the imperial seal. Now, we have from time to time had the Imperial Seal come up in conversation when this or that figure has stolen, borrowed, or found it and claimed authority for themselves. But it struck me that I had never made it exactly clear what I had been talking about when referring to the Imperial Seal.

So let me rectify that now, not only because it helps explain the current situation, but also because it's a very interesting story in its own right. We've come to learn of the seal's origins through the legalist scholar Han Fei of the 3rd century BCE, his book eponymously titled the Hanfeizi. What would ultimately become the imperial seal began its entry into Chinese history as an uncut stone found in the ancient and not yet sinicized kingdom of Chu. Within the stone, however, was found a flawless and giant piece of jade, and it would be carved into a polished jade disc of great purity and value, named after its founder as the He Shi Bi, or Jade Disc of He.

How valuable, exactly? Well, comparisons to modern wages are difficult, but after being stolen and then fenced to the northern kingdom Zhao, the then-king of Qin, who was, it ought to be said, the great-grandfather of Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor, would make an offer to buy the peace from Zhao. His offer was 15 cities ceded to his rival state. Though that deal would spectacularly fall through, the eventual unification of China and the destruction of Zhao by Qin Shi Huang in 221 BCE meant that the Jade Disk of He at last fell into Qin's control. The first emperor ordered it inscribed with the words, 寿命由天,既寿永成, meaning, by the mandate of heaven,

may the emperor live a long and prosperous life. The carved jade stamp, officially known as the heirloom seal of the realm, would become for the next 1100 years the highest, but not only, official mark of imperial authority. Any proclamation issued with it affixed was the law of the land. Anything without it? Effectually, mud. So, back to Qin. Upon seizing the imperial throne, Huang Chuan declared the Qin dynasty ended, and established a new order of his own, named Chu, after the former state of the Warring Kingdoms period, within which almost all of the empire formerly known as Jin lay.

As emperor of Chu, Huan kept right on being the luxuriant, capricious, and cowardly ruler he'd always been as regent. He locked away both Emperor An, who was now demoted to the Prince of Pinggu, and his younger brother the Prince of Longye, under house arrest, and proceeded to tick off just about everyone around him with lavish spending on

things like palaces, parties, and all those amazingly expensive extravagances only available to somebody living off somebody else's tax dollars. It's at this point in the story that it behooves me to introduce yet another figure into the mix, because he's going to be a pretty big deal. He was Liu Yu, formerly a lieutenant and rising star in his late uncle, General Liu Laozhi's army, but now re-enlisted to the Jin-turned-Chu imperial army as a general in his own right. 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

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Not quite 41 years old, at the beginning of 404, Liu had watched with rising contempt as the talentless and sniveler-in-chief, Huang Xuan, had claimed the ultimate authority of the realm by pulling one over on a mute idiot. Yes. Bravo. That spring,

finally fed up with this new emperor's costly antics and confident that he'd built a winning coalition force, Liu enacted a multi-phase plan to overthrow this would-be Chu dynasty before it got off the ground. It was to go like this. Liu Yu and one of his co-conspirators would dispatch their force

to seize the capital city of Hu and Yan provinces, Jingkou, and use it as the rebellion's headquarters. Meanwhile, simultaneous rebellions would be launched within Qing and Yu provinces to distract and overwhelm potential reinforcements, while a fourth column would rise within the imperial seat Nanjing itself and attack Emperor Huanxuan directly. The rebel contingent led by Liu himself was able to surprise and kill the governor of

Jingkou, ensuring the success of their part of the operation and a base of command from which to conduct further strikes. This turned out to be especially fortunate, because both the assault on Yu province and the uprising within the capital turned out to have leaked at some point before the rebellion began, and their commanders were promptly imprisoned and virtually all of them executed, the apparently sole exception being the commander Zhuge Jiangming, whose allies managed to mount a rescue and extract him before his date with the chopping block. So not exactly everything was going according to plan. But all in all, the rebellion was going okay so far. Sure, it hadn't

been the one swift stroke that he'd intended, but Liu Yu did hold a sizable portion of Jin slash Chu, and with an army still at his back. As such, he made out directly for Nanjing. Huang Xuan, earning his reputation for cowardice yet again, opted to wait within the capital's walls and, I guess, just keep his fingers off that Liu Yu would wear himself out, burning and pillaging through the countryside. But that, as we discussed in the North last episode,

was not something that tended to work out especially well. Though Huang did send a detachment to try to slow down, or ideally stop entirely, Liu Yu's march to the capital, that seemed to achieve little, if any, difference in General Liu's timetable. He arrived outside Nanjing in short order, and there defeated the army of Huan Xuan outright, forcing the short-lived Emperor of Chu to flee toward his base of power, with both the former Emperor An and his younger brother the Prince of Langye in tow as captives. Nevertheless, in spite of the fact that the former Jin Emperor and his brother were still well in the possession of the Fling Huan Xuan, General Liu Yu now held a strategically and historically valuable card, the capital city.

As such, in spite of the fact that the royal family was still a POW, Liu went ahead and declared the restoration of the Jin Dynasty, the end of the illegal usurper Chu Dynasty, and pushed to clean this government up of corruption, bribery, and most importantly, supporters of Huan Xuan. He also, in the case that Emperor An might not be recovered at all, declared that his first cousin once removed would be the acting emperor in the dumb, incontinent, and imbecilic monarch's stead. Gee, one wonders if anyone hoped that On might, I don't know, not be recovered. Incidentally, thanks once again to WolframAlpha.com for the clarification of the lineage.

And for those not immediately familiar with what it means to be a first cousin once removed, let me tell you, it means his father's cousin. Regardless, the fleeing Huangshuan arrived at his supposed power base, Jiangling, but didn't even bother to slow down on his way by. Instead, he immediately made preparations to run away some more, with the intent on using his distant cousin's province in the interior of China as a refuge. However, by this point, his army had realized they were following a, well, there's no subtle way to put this, is there? A loser. The rebel army refused to follow his orders to accompany him further, leaving the briefly

emperor, Huang Xuan, to flee, again, but this time more or less alone, off to Yi province. En route, however, he would be intercepted by Jin sympathizers and beheaded. Thus, the Jin dynasty would be declared well and truly restored in early 405, after a few obligatory spasms by the remaining military commanders, who had once been under the late, not-so-great, Huangshuan's command. Order thus restored to the reinvigorated Jin Dynasty, it would be Liu Yu, the defender of the dynasty, who would be proclaimed the enfeebled emperor's regent and will in early 405, after the monarch had been safely returned to the capital.

But this so-called defender of the dynasty, Liu Yu, was not in fact so different from his defeated foe, Huan. Like Huan, Liu too held designs on the imperial throne. But Liu had, through sheer observation of the mistakes Huan had made in his takeover, come to realize that moving quickly to overthrow Jin would almost inevitably result in him sharing the fate of his defeated foe. No. Leo would have to play the long game, the safe game, and con his way into the throne rather than simply announce it. He would

need to prove himself as not just valuable, but positively indispensable before he could possibly make any overt actions toward the imperial seat, and to show before he could possibly make any overt actions toward the imperial seat. And to show that he held his position for no personal gain or stake, he repeatedly offered to resign his post over the course of the next several years, all the while knowing, much like the emperors and usurpers of old who would refuse the throne only to claim it later, and his resignations would never be accepted. From all outward signs, Liu was every bit the ideal and selfless regent

firmly committed to the good of the realm only. That spring would put Liu's regency to its first test, and one it would not emerge from unscathed. A contingent of soldiers, who had grown deeply embittered at being forced far from their homes on campaign after campaign and for such an extended tour, years without end on this point, that they up and killed their commander and seized the mighty capital of Sichuan, Chengdu. Within, they declared it the independent kingdom of Western Shu.

It wouldn't be until almost two years later, though, 407, that Regent Liu would be able to mount a response by commissioning his personal friend to lead a column against the rebel stronghold. But that would end in failure the following year, after running out of supplies outside Chengdu's impenetrable city walls. Back in the capital, Liu took this blow in stride, and by 409 was able to respond to border raids into Jin by the minor splinter state known as Southern Yan, which occupied the Shandong Peninsula along the northeastern Pacific coast. In response, he would

launch and personally command the first of his northern expeditions, arriving outside the walls of southern Yan's capital city by autumn of 409, and finally taking the city the following spring, ending its brief, relatively lackluster existence. From there, he began preparations for a further strike against later Qin of north-central China. However, Liu was forced to shelve these plans for northern domination for the time being, when a pair of southern warlords, seeking to take advantage of the Jin region's absence from the capital, began their own invasion of Jin from the south, seeking to take Nanjing and Emperor on for themselves. Liu Yu returned to the imperial capital at once, and, in spite of his advisors

insisting the emperor be ferried across to the far side of the Yangtze River to ensure his safety, Liu flatly refused. Instead, he declared that the emperor was to remain within the capital, and that the imperial army would defend him there with their lives. That, however, would prove unnecessary. The rebel commander Liu had hoped to simply intimidate Liu Yu into capitulation, and when that proved to be a laughably absurd proposition, his army rapidly ran out of food and were shortly forced to retreat. The contingent commanded by the other rebel commander was also defeated by Liu Yu's brother. And by late 410, the two rebel armies were forced to regroup and seek to defeat Liu Yu once and for all in

naval combat along the Yangtze, and the two fleets clashed around the new year of 411. The result was the rebel armada being utterly defeated and put to the torch, with only the two commanders and a few of their followers yet surviving to flee once again, before being engaged by another Jin loyalist force and utterly destroyed. The Jin Empire had crushed its would-be usurpers and stabilized itself once again. As such, Liu Yu was propelled to even greater public standing. After weeding out all of the vestiges of opposition, and quietly shuffling out of power those of his allies who might someday opt to stand in his path toward the throne, Liu Yu was able to turn his attention northward once again.

He was now twice the savior of Jin, and conquering the barbarian states of the north would cement his claim to power. For who could possibly doubt that Liu held the mandate of heaven if he'd managed to, I don't know, reunify China? Thus in 416, following the death of later Qin's emperor Yao Xin, Liu invaded and by winter had captured Luoyang itself. The enormity of this victory, putting the ancient Chinese capital back into the Jin population would surely have thought

real Chinese control, was one of the jewels to affix to Liu Yu's crown. As a reward for Luoyang's capture, Liu Yu had Emperor An bestow upon him the title Duke of Song, as well as the nine bestowments, clear indications to anyone with a pulse that Liu had every intention of taking the throne at some point. But not now, because for appearance's sake, of course, he had to decline both honors. In early 417, Liu's lieutenant, General Tan Daoji, who had personally overseen the siege and capture of Luoyang the year prior, once again conducted operations against the by now reeling

later Qin. This time, the aim would be the second and greatest crown jewel for Liu's hat, the other ancient capital of China, Chang'an. In a period of mere months, in spite of being outnumbered by the hordes of Qin warriors, Liu and his commanders had utterly destroyed every army and navy the northern state had thrown against them, capturing Chang'an and the emperor of later Qin, whom Liu Yu had brought in chains to Nanjing before executing, ending Later Qin once and for all. Momentum, strategy, and morale were all clearly on the side of Liu Yu and the Jin Expeditionary Army, and everyone seemed to know it.

Intimidation and an aura of invincibility can be a powerful weapon, and on the heels of Liu's stunning destruction of later Qin, the reeling princes of Western Qin, Northern Liang, and Western Liang all submitted to Jin authority without resistance. Now, some animals will roll over when backed into a corner, but others will bite, and the biter among the northern states turned out to be Xia and its emperor, He Lian Bo Bo. Once Liu Yu left Chang'an

to pursue further northern conquests, Emperor He Lian ordered a three-sided strike against the walled city. Though the garrison left inside Chang'an had received the order to withdraw ahead of the oncoming attack, they were too busy and dispersed across the metropolis, looting and pillaging to withdraw ahead of the oncoming attack, they were too busy and dispersed across the metropolis, looting and pillaging to withdraw in time. As they attempted to retreat,

the Xia army crashed into their extended column and not only defeated, but all but annihilated the Jin force. Chang'an thereafter fell into the possession of Xia and back into the sphere of influence of the northern tribes, however fractious that erstwhile alliance might have been by this point. Though he yet retained control of Luoyang as well as much of the north, the loss of Chang'an tarnished Liu's to this point sterling record, and imperiled his chances to usurp the imperial throne through a claim alone. No, after this embarrassment, something a little more drastic was going to be necessary to secure his claimed power. Fortunately, Liu had prepared for just

such an outcome. As Chong'an fell once again into barbarian hands, Liu had Emperor An once more confer upon him the Ducky of Song and the Nine Bestowments, both of which he this time accepted. Liu Yu additionally had the emperor offer him the title of prince, but at this he once more, very publicly, demurred. Volume 118 of the Zhezhe Tongjian tells of Liu Yu coming to believe a prophecy stating, 成名之后,上�二帝, which is translated as, After dawn, only two more emperors shall reign in Jin. Okay, so what the heck does that mean? Like most prophecies, this one requires some unpacking, but it's actually fairly straightforward.

The wording of the prophecy said 昌明, which literally translates as dawn. However, � Changming also just so happened to be the courtesy name of An's father, the late Emperor Xiao Wu. So obviously, it was just about time to get the rest of this prophecy rolling. Only two more emperors to go. The Duke of Song time and again hired assassins to try to slip poison into the emperor's food, but the guardianship of his ever-present younger brother, Prince De Wan, prevented him from getting rid of the emperor quite so easily. As such, he was forced to wait until opportunity presented itself, which it did over the new

year of 419, when Prince De Wan took ill and was compelled to stay at his own home for a time. But with his guardian brother's absence, Emperor An was little more than a sitting duck. And as such, when the Duke of Song held an audience with the Emperor in November or December of 418, in the east wing of Langye Palace, he fashioned a robe from an entwined set of so-called casual clothing, although other sources suggest it may have been a blanket, before wrapping the makeshift noose around An's neck and strangling him to death. But of course, Leo couldn't yet seize the throne for himself.

After all, there was still a prophecy to fulfill. Therefore, he made sure that An's younger brother and heir, Prince De Juan, remained safe and sound. He had to assume the throne before he could cede it once and for all. Sima De Juan ascended the throne of Jin, in name at least, as Emperor Gong, and would wind up as the final monarch of the dynasty. But he certainly didn't have long to ruminate on that increasingly likely possibility from the throne itself. Gong's reign would be short and powerless, lasting in all less than a year,

and with any and all real power firmly vested in the Duke of Song. Wait, did I say Duke? I meant the Prince of Song, because promoting Liu Yu was about the only thing of note Gong was permitted to do during his reign. An agent of Liu, one Fu Liang, was dispatched to the imperial palace in the summer of 420, with a suggested draft of an abdication letter in hand. Fu delivered the not-so-suggestive suggestion to the monarch of Jin, who took the hint. Copying it in his own hand, Gong of Jin formally ceded the throne, and as such, the dynasty itself, and left the imperial palace and city for his provincial home,

now once again merely Sima De Wan, and demoted back to the prince of Longye. He and his wife would be kept in a palace near the capital under heavy guard, supposedly for their protection, but in reality as the couple's prison guards. A year later, in the fall of 421, Liu Yu, by now the Emperor, sought to snuff out any possibility of the Sima clan resurging to power, and as such ordered Prince Douwen to drink poison wine. Douwen refused, citing that his Buddhist beliefs prohibited suicide, since those who took their own lives could not be reincarnated as a human in the next life. So, the assassins, sent with the poison,

honored his wishes and placed a blanket over his head to suffocate him themselves. Back in 420 though, three days after De Won's abdication, Liu Yu formally ascended to the imperial throne, announcing the establishment of a new dynastic era, that of Song, and he as its first emperor, Wu. Now like all other dynasties of this era, this new empire was named after the principality from which its founding monarch came, so at the time it was simply Song. However, since we're eventually going to have another Song dynasty in about 500 years, lasting from the 10th through the 13th century, historians have, as shall we, generally referred to this first Song as the Liu Song dynasty, adding on the surname of the imperial clan to avoid confusion.

Next time, the Liu Song will establish itself across the south, with its first few emperors making names for themselves as economical and rather radically pro-peasant. However, that put them frequently at odds with their own nobility, so it's not terribly surprising that another trait shared by many of the early Liaosong emperors would be finding their way into early graves. Thank you for listening. 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.