The History of China - #86 - Tang 5: Family Matters

Episode Date: January 5, 2016

Our third and final episode in our suite on Emperor Taizong of Tang, this time focuses on the family crisis that would grip the latter half of his reign, as the ill-fated conquest of Goguryeo raged on in the periphery. His eldest son and heir will prove himself too… well, strange… for anyone to feel comfortable with on the throne. Meanwhile his favorite son will go to any means to secure the top job for himself. In the ensuing brotherly scuffle assassinations will be plotted, banishments pronounced, and the royal family’s trust shattered forever. But who will emerge on top is anyone’s guess…Time Period Covered: 626-649 CENotable Figures:Tang:Li Shimin (Emperor Taizong) [r. -649]Empress Wende [née Zhangsun] [d. 636]Crowned Prince Li Chengqian [618-645]Li Tai, Prince of Wei [618-652]Li Zhi, Prince of Jin [b. 628]Chancellor Wei ChengChancellor Zhangsun Wuji“Chengxin,” Li Chengqian’s singing boyGegan Chengji, Royal BodyguardMajor Sources UsedChen, Jack Wei. Poetics of Sovereignty: On Emperor Taizong of the Tang Dynasty.Weschler, Howard. The Cambridge History of China. “Taizong: The Consolidator”.Wu, Jing. Zhenguan Zheng Yao, “Essentials on Governance from the Zhenguan Era”.Li, Shimin. Difan, “Plan for the Emperor”. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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

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Episode 86, Family Matters. We begin today in the imperial Court of Emperor Taizong, the second divine monarch of the Great Tang Empire, as he and his high officials hear the testimony of a traitor and would-be assassin. It is the earliest days of spring in the year 643, and the capital city is frozen, both in terms of the weather, since it would still be well frosted over, but even more so in shock at what the man who stands in chains before the sun of heaven has just revealed. Not anything about his own crimes, which seem to be without doubt, but rather because of

what he has just revealed in an effort to save his own skin. This man's name is Ge Gan Cheng Ji, and he was, until his recent arrest, the personal bodyguard of the crowned prince himself, 24-year-old Li Cheng Tian. But guard Ge Gan had found himself swept up in, and ultimately implicated, in the ceaseless game of thrones that was ever ongoing in 7th century Tang imperial court. Not long before, another of Taizong's sons, the Prince of Qi, Li You, had the spring prior risen up in rebellion against his own father and murdered the Tang secretary-general. This little tantrum had been duly crushed, and the Prince of Qi delivered to Chang'an to face his own judgment.

In the end, Emperor Taizong had felt he had no choice but order that his son Li You commit suicide, along with some four dozen of his co-conspirators. But the investigation had ultimately roped in Gagan Chengji, who now himself stood before the court awaiting a likely much worse fate. So he played his ace in the hole. Hey, let me live, and I'll tell you about a plot which makes Leo's little rebellion look like a drop in the bucket. The reveal was stunning. That the crowned prince himself, Li Chengjian, had been conspiring with

agents at the highest levels of government to overthrow and murder Taizong, and therefore seize the throne for himself. Among those implicated in the plot were one of the emperor's own brothers, the Prince of Han, one of his nephews, the Imperial Guard Commander, and even a hero Major General of the Imperial Army. Gagan Chengji's Hail Mary Pass seemed to have worked, for he drops out of the histories after this revelation, but it is intoned that his turning informant did save his own life. Because at this, Emperor Taizong suddenly had a much, much bigger fish to fry, his own son and heir. But at least as important to him, and as it is to us, was to find the answer to what

could have driven the crown prince to such a treasonous, murderous, and ultimately ruinous course of action. And that, of course, will require some backstory. So let's jump back about two decades to follow this tale of intrigue and woe from the outset. At age seven or eight, Prince Li Chengjian, as the eldest son of Taizong's prime escort, Empress Wende, was officially named the heir to the throne of Tang, less than one year after his father's own accession to the throne in 626. Though very young, Taizong, along with many at his court, saw the boy's potential, as one possessing a good sense of judgment as well as being intelligent and capable.

And all of this in spite of the fact that the crown prince apparently suffered from what would be a lifelong ailment of his leg, possibly gout or clubfoot, that left him physically lame. Over the first half or so of Taizong's reign, then, his family life was urbane, pleasant, and uneventful. His home life seems to have been stable, and he was very much in love with his wife, the empress, and bearer of his senior-most sons. In late 635, Emperor Taizong's father Gaozhu at last passed away,

and a period of official mourning was declared across the empire. Prodigious though his work ethic was, even Taizong went into seclusion for more than a month, and during that period he entrusted the affairs of government and full imperial authority to his crowned prince. Once Taizong returned to take up his imperial authority again after some 45 days, he deemed that Changxian had done well enough, in the interim, that he allowed his heir to continue to rule on lesser matters in his stead. However, the death of his empress in 636,

we might think of as a turning point in all that, because not only did her loss deeply affect Taizong personally, but also because their sons had by that point grown more or less into adulthood or near enough by that time, and what might have earlier been dismissed as normal sibling rivalries had, in the interim, developed into something far more toxic. The main antagonists of what would become a bitter and ultimately destructive rivalry over the throne of Tang were of course the crowned prince, Cheng Qian, and his younger brother, Li Tai, the prince of Wei. It is a bit up in the air over just how closely Cheng Qian and Tai were related. Some histories list them as full brothers, with Tai

being the fourth son of Empress Wende, whereas others posit that they were in fact only half brothers, with Tai the progeny of one of the emperor's lesser consorts. Regardless, as the pair grew, it became more and more apparent to everyone in the palace that Emperor Taizong had a favorite son, and it wasn't his designated heir. No, it was young Prince Tai, whom Howard Weschler notes was clever and charming, and had inherited many of his father's best qualities, end quote. So great were his displays of favoritism for Tai that in 636, he permitted him, and him alone, to not take up his provincial post as a governor-general,

which saw the imperial princes scattered across the empire and away from the capital. Instead, Li Tai was permitted to remain in Chang'an, the thrumming heart of Tang itself, and establish a School of Literary Instruction, or Wenshui Guan. Ultimately, the school would open as one of the largest in the empire, and with an annual salary allowance that would prove the envy of all of the other princes, the heir Cheng Qian included. As for the crown prince himself, he had begun making Taizong's decision to potentially choose another as his favorite very easy indeed. Though as a youth he had been intelligent and capable, his formative years had revealed a significantly stranger and even scandalous nature in the heir

apparent. As a stark and shocking example of this, for instance, he had essentially rejected his Chinese heritage in favor of that of the Turks. He dressed as a Turk and refused to speak anything but the Turkic language, and insisted his entourage do likewise. This was absolutely unheard of and outrageous to the courtiers of Chang'an. Turks and their predecessors had long been known to dress and act like the Chinese, true enough, but then who wouldn't want to emulate the obviously superior culture of the Middle Kingdom? But for a Chinese, and more than that, the imperial heir himself,

to reject his ancient and glorious heritage in favor of whatever passed for culture among these steppe barbarians, was beyond the pale. Among the imperial court, they must have surely felt that the crown prince's behavior in this regard was just one lowly step away from running through the streets naked and screaming wildly, and they made no secret of their collective displeasure at such an indecent display. They voiced their protestations before the emperor and the court that the crown prince's wild and scandalous behavior and his open flouting of Chinese decorum were unacceptable and that the heir must be rebuked for such excesses. When Chengqian heard these criticisms, however, he ordered several attempts on the lives of the

officials who had dared voice them. Though these assassination attempts would all prove unsuccessful, it shows just how far the heir to the empire had fallen, and does lend credence to Westchell's assertion that the prince had become mentally unbalanced. The fact that the assassination attempts had all been foiled before they could be borne out, combined with the fact that, hey, this is the heir to the throne we're talking about here, ensured that the incidents, troubling though they were, remained internal matters and were not divulged to the public at the time. Instead, the increasingly kooky crown prince and his barbarian dress would be simply shielded from onlookers, and the empire would continue to function as though, all was well, nothing wrong here, move along. Nevertheless, Cheng Qian's strangeness,

coupled with Emperor Taizong's pretty flagrant favoritism towards Prince Tai, gave rise to the hope among several of the imperial court that there might be a shift in the wind coming soon, as far as imperial heirs went. Of course, this sentiment was not shared by all, and those whose careers were either directly affected by, or stood to rise or fall with Li Chengqian's own position, would of course back the current crowned prince, while the opposite held true for those whose wagons were hitched to the career of the Prince of Wei. As a result of this breakout rivalry between his two sons, and the factionalization of his court that seemed poised to threaten the stability of his entire reign, Emperor Taizong inserted himself and attempted to diffuse this increasingly explosive situation.

All of this talk and posturing was moot, he declared, because even if Crown Prince Chengqian were to, for whatever reason, be disinherited from his position, or if he were to die or whatever, he would be replaced by his own son, Li Xiang, and no other prince. This undoubtedly looked good on paper, and theoretically should have ended the spiraling competition. But in truth, Chengqian's son was an infant, and any rule by him, however eventual, would likely require a regency. And I'm sure we all remember how regents to child emperors tend to pan out. No one wanted that situation, not even, not especially, the emperor who had decreed it as his own contingency. To that end then, to avoid the dynastic doomsday device he had put into place himself,

Taizong made one of his primary goals the reformation of his wayward heir, and make him worthy once again of the position so many felt he now little deserved. Taizong made one of his primary goals the reformation of his wayward heir, and make him worthy once again of the position so many felt he now little deserved. In early 643, he assigned his own chancellor, Wei Cheng, to be the crown prince's senior advisor. It was Taizong's hope that the stern and highly moralistic Chancellor Wei would instill his heir with the same kind of discipline he'd become famous for. Nevertheless, it would prove too little, too late, to really affect the trajectory of Li Chengqian's personality. And by later that year, the emperor was seeking an even more final solution. He resolved that his son's ill ways had come about and been encouraged by his ill companions. Of particular note were two Taoist

priests that the crown prince kept on retainer, and had been recently outed as giving the prince profane teachings and philosophies, and whom, reportedly, were even teaching him acts of magic and witchcraft which were considered the darkest of arts. The other companion of infamy was a singing boy that the crown prince had become particularly, worryingly fond of. Crown Prince Chengqian had given the boy a rather suggestive nickname, Chengxin, meaning, the one who satisfies my heart. It is heavily intoned that the prince was engaging in a romantic affair with this singing boy, Chengxin. And though homosexuality was not at this time officially prohibited,

there is speculation that the influx and widespread adoption of Buddhism into China had carried with it a disapproval of homosexual behavior, since Buddhism looked down on all worldly or pleasure-seeking activities, especially those that had no other higher purpose towards enlightenment. Still, it's worth noting that it would be another 1300 years before it would ever be made officially taboo during the late Qing dynasty. Regardless, Emperor Taizong deemed that the singing boy was having a negative effect on his son, the crowned prince, and thus needed to be removed. Therefore, Chengxin, as well as the two heretical Taoist priests,

were all summarily put to death on the emperor's command. Crown Prince Chengxin did not take the loss of what seems to have very well been his true love well at all. For a period of months, he locked himself away in his palace and refused to attend any and all imperial ceremonies. He likewise constructed a shrine to the memory of his beloved Chengxin. As he mourned in near solitude, he became more and more convinced of three things. That his father was out to get him, that it was his brother Li Tai who was to blame, and that only by getting rid of both of them would his position and future finally be secure.

And so, convinced that there was a conspiracy against him, Crown Prince Chengxian began to hatch a scheme of his own. All the while, Prince Tai was using his elder brother's conspicuous absence from public life to his full advantage. He had come to hope, along with his supporters, that his father's overt favoritism of him, coupled with Cheng Qian's ongoing weirdness, would play itself out in him being ultimately selected as the new heir to the throne. His chiefs of staff had begun disseminating several of the rumors and behaviors of the

crown prince, which had until now been closely guarded secrets of the palace, to the general public, in hopes of swaying popular opinion against Li Chengqian and in favor of a change of succession. The smear campaign worked in the public, hearing now for only the first time that their crown prince dressed and spoke like a barbarian, and surrounded himself with Taoist wizards, and sneered down his nose at everything that was Chinese and civil and proper. Well, they rapidly began to turn against the idea of Cheng Qian someday being in charge of them all. For his own part, the crown prince had been, over the course of 643, carefully enlisting the support of those both within and outside

of the imperial palace that he felt could be trusted to help in the plot of his own, the overthrow and execution of his brother Li Tai and his father Tai Zong, and his early accession to the throne of Tang. And that pretty much catches us right up to the trial at the start of the episode. Before Chengqian could set his plan in motion, his half-brother Li You rose in rebellion against his chancellor, and thus Tai Zong, and ruined just everything. Unbeknownst to either of the princes, they had both enlisted the help of a certain palace guardsman, Gagan Chengji, who, when arrested for his alleged involvement in Li You's rebellion, decided, to heck with taking secrets to the grave, I'm gonna

save my own hide. In exchange for his life, he gave up the entire plot against the emperor's life by the crowned prince. And he would have known, too. Apparently owing to his status as a personal bodyguard to the heir, and thus his unfettered access to the imperial palace, Gagan had himself been tapped as the one who would dispatch Emperor Taizong on Chengqian's command. The scope of this treachery was so vast and so outrageous that Taizong, seemingly in some kind of shock at it all, felt he could not decide the outcome of this situation all on his own. Instead, he convened a high council of his most esteemed advisors to figure this whole thing out. panel would include ranking members of the Imperial Supreme Court, Examination Bureau, Legislative Bureau, as well as several other officials whom he held as particularly exemplary,

including his late Empress's brother, Zhang Shengmu Ji, who had been instrumental in getting Taizong on the throne at all thanks to his key role in the Xuanmu Gate assassination, and indeed had been officially ranked first among the 24 honorees selected by Taizong himself to render life-size portraits of at Lingyong Pavilion earlier that same year. From Fort Sumter to the Battle of Gettysburg. From the Emancipation Proclamation to Appomattox Courthouse. From the 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments to the Compromise of 1877, from Abraham Lincoln and Ulysses S. Grant and William Tecumseh Sherman, to Jefferson Davis

and Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson. The Civil War and Reconstruction was a pivotal era in American history. I'm Rich. And I'm Tracy. And we're the hosts of a podcast that takes a deep dive into that era 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. Look for The Civil War and Reconstruction wherever you find your podcasts. With their combined investigations, the High Judicial Panel soon learned that what Gard Gagan had been claiming was true, and that the treasonous plot indeed ran all up and through the imperial court and government.

The co-conspirators were one by one rounded up and sent to meet their respective sentence, and it would be no slap on the wrist. All but two of the conspirators were sentenced to immediate execution, with only the members of the imperial clan itself, the Prince of Han and the Crown Prince, receiving different sentences. The Prince of Han was ordered to take his own life, but Taizong paused at the thought of ordering the death of yet another of his own sons. Instead, he requested the opinions of the council that he had gathered. What shall be the fate of this wayward prince who would do violence to his own father? One of his officials suggested that it would be the height of mercy to spare this miscreant's life,

and to this, Taizong agreed. Instead of execution, Li Changqian would be stripped of his rank and titles and demoted to a commoner. For the time being, he would still be held in the Imperial Palace's dungeon to await his final fate. Meanwhile, Prince Li Tai had been jumping at this opportunity to seize on this his greatest and surest chance to secure his claim to the throne. He began to visit the chambers of his father every day, in effort after effort to remind dad who his favorite had been all along and just name me the crown prince already, come on. Tai Zong assented and promised that when the time was right,

once this whole messy affair with Chang Qian was put to rest, he would indeed name Prince Tai as his heir. Most in the imperial court immediately assented to this plan, but one, His Excellency Zhangshan Wuji, the late Empress's brother, adamantly opposed it. Instead, he and a small faction of others recommended that the Emperor's ninth son, also from Empress Wende, the 15-year-old Prince Li Zhi, be named heir instead. It seemed that Chancellor Zhang Sun already held some personal suspicion about Li Tai, who had been so eagerly leaping at the news that his elder brother had been deposed, and had been far too eager to claim the throne for himself.

Tipped off about his father's newfound hesitation, Prince Tai attempted to sway his father into naming him the crown prince in spite of Zhang Sun's advice. Even going so far as to say that should he be named the crown prince, if Taizong willed it, he would order the death of his own son and named his younger brother Li Zhi as his heir instead. This ghastly proposition, however, backfired severely when a listening official pointed out to the emperor that such a promise could not possibly be made earnestly. Who in their right mind would do such a thing? Moreover, the official went on, even if such a situation were to be carried through, it would merely be setting up a

repeat of the destructive rivalry between Li Tai and Li Chengtian all over again. Miffed at being shut down, Prince Tai opted instead to try a different tact, blunt intimidation. He paid a visit to his brother, Zhi, and over the course of their conversation, intoned darkly that Prince Zhi's close relationship to the recently executed Prince of Han could be used against him, and wouldn't it be sad if, you know, unfortunate implications about your involvement in the plot against Dad were to, I don't know, find their way into the court somehow? Prince Zhi was duly terrified. But once more, Prince Tai's plot would backfire. Rather than tucking tail and keeping silent about his elder brother's

effective extortion, he ran straight to dear old dad and told him all about it. At this, Taizong must have shook his head and said, I'm not mad, Tai, I'm just disappointed. The history is right that with the revelation of Prince Tai's threats towards his brother, the emperor began to well and truly regret ever promising the throne at all. But the final straw would be placed by neither court official nor little brother waiting in the wings. But by the one man Prince Tai must have thought that he'd already soundly defeated, Li Chengqian, the disgraced former heir and now convicted traitor. Nearly suspicious of Prince Tai, Emperor Taizong assented to his Chancellor Zhangsun's suggestion that before judgment was carried out, he ought to go to Chengqian's cell and personally question

his wayward son as to the whys of his actions. Chengqian was remarkably candid with his lord father. After all, it's not like he had anything left to lose. And in the course of their conversation, he stated flatly, quote, I was already the crown prince. Thus, what else could I have been seeking? It is because Li Tai conspired against me, and I therefore had to discuss with my staff a plan to save myself from him. Your courtiers and those men of ambition have convinced you that I have committed treason. But if you name Li Tai as your heir, I'm telling you, you're falling right into his trap. End quote. Taizong was convinced, and in spite of his own feelings on the issue, had to concede that it seemed very likely indeed that Prince Tai had

been manipulating events to seat himself ultimately on the throne. Dejected but resolute, Taizong returned to his palace and reconvened his high judiciary council. With them assembled, he revealed Prince Tai's threats against Li Zhi, as well as Cheng Qian's assertions that he had been forced into treason through Tai's machinations. And together, they thus resolved to depose Prince Tai and named Li Zhi as his heir instead. Later that same day, Prince Tai entered the palace to make his daily visit to dear old dad. Instead of the usual audience, however, he found himself immediately detained by the imperial guard and then put under house arrest. The next day, to what must have been his absolute shock, he would learn that Taizong had officially

declared Prince Li Zhi the heir of Tang, and further, that he was to be removed from his official positions, demoted, and exiled far from the capital to the far reaches of the mountainous backwater that was Jun Prefecture in modern Hubei. That fall, both Li Tai and Cheng Qian would be banished from the capital for the rest of their lives. Cheng Qian was sent to Qian Prefecture in what is today southeastern Chongqing, and would die little more than a year later for reasons unclear but may have either been complications from his long-standing leg sickness or perhaps some tropical disease. Though he died as a commoner, Taizong ordered that he be buried as a duke. Almost a century later, his image would be further rehabilitated by his grandson,

then the chancellor to the sitting emperor, by successfully petitioning that Changqian should be posthumously reinstated as a prince, and he would be known thereafter as Prince Min, the Suffering of Hancheng, a suitably appropriate title. As for Li Tai, he would fare somewhat better. He retained his princely status, and later his father would upgrade it in 647 to a higher grade of prince. However, he would never be allowed to return to the capital. Upon Taizong's death in 649, all imperial princes were recalled to the capital to take part

in the funeral ceremonies, all but Prince Tai, who was ordered to remain at his distant prefecture. I guess that's what you get for threatening the guy who was going to be the future emperor. Nevertheless, upon his own coronation, Lijia would order that his exiled elder brother at last be allowed a staff and high-grade supplies from the capital. He would ultimately die in late 652 at the age of 34, and his son would inherit his title. As for Emperor Taizong, though, this whole ordeal had brought the monarch nearly to the point of complete mental and emotional breakdown. He had been betrayed by those he cared about most, not only by one of his brothers, but by no less than three of his sons.

Given the depth of such treachery, the emperor fell into a deep, and at times even suicidal, depression. At one point he even had to be restrained by one of his eye officials from stabbing himself, though it is admittedly impossible to say with any certainty whether this was a real suicide attempt or a theatrical cry for help. After all, it's not as though he did it alone in his chambers, but instead made the action in full view of his officials and apparently only the once. Nonetheless, he would spend the remainder of his days lamenting the circumstances that had brought about such dark days, and had stripped him of three of his children and any real sense of trust for those left.

He is remembered as stating, The love between father and son is a natural one. It is difficult for me to separate from Li Tai, and I cannot bear this. However, I am the lord of all under heaven, and as long as the people can be safe, I can cut off my personal love. End quote. He would likewise at another point say, quote, Li Tai was exceedingly talented. I miss him, and all of you know this. However, for the sake of the empire, I have cut off my relationship with him with righteousness. Let him live far away to try to make everyone safe.

End quote. Even on the question of his succession, he remained doubtful and worried repeatedly that the heir he and his advisors had ultimately settled on, Li Zhi, was the wrong one for the task. Weschler writes of these doubts, quote, Taizong remained convinced that the wrong choice had been forced upon him Weschler writes of these doubts, When he brought up the idea of once again swapping out his heir for another, this time the prince Li Ke,

whom he had come to admire for his boldness and military prowess, Once again, Zhang Shenwuji intervened, criticizing the emperor for his fickleness and maintaining that Li Jie would make an excellent ruler, end quote. Weschler goes on to point out that most historians have concluded, even early on, that Chancellor Zhangshan wasn't consistently intervening on Prince Li Jie's behalf on purely altruistic grounds, but instead probably knew and was indeed counting upon the heir apparent being a relatively weak-willed individual to better facilitate Zhang Zong's own continual domination of the imperial court should he become the emperor. Truly, the cloaks and daggers never

really stop within the imperial court, and the game of thrones and regents just plays on and on. Nevertheless, with Taizong's death in mid-649, at not even 50 years old, and after a long and losing battle with mental and emotional fatigue, military disaster in Goguryeo, and physical disease, it would be Li Zhi that would succeed him on the throne of Tang as Emperor Gaozong. Taizong would leave to his heir a document specifically written for him entitled Die Fan, or The Plan for the Emperor, alternately Effective Government. In it, he sought to give his ninth son the fruit of a lifetime of governance, so that he might avoid what Taizong feared would be his young son's inherent flaws.

The Die Fan called upon Li Zhi to use his family members to guard outlying prefectures and help him manage the affairs of state, to welcome advice and even criticism from his advisors and not punish those who were honest, even if what they had to say was difficult to hear, to discourage slander, avoid extravagance, esteem culture, and maintain the military. As emperor, time will tell whether or not Li Zhi, now Gao Zong, will prove up to the task of filling his father's enormous

boots. And so we come at last to the end of Taizong of Tang's reign, after almost 23 years on the throne. And with him, so too ends the Zhengguang era, the era of true vision. But before we consign Li Shemin, Emperor Taizong, back to the dusty pages of history, it's worth looking back over his Zhengguang era and trying to see, really, where it ranks and how we should perceive it. The past two episodes have, after all, been focused on the latter portion of his reign, and thus two of the lowest points in his entire life, namely his army's failure in Korea, and then the thrice-betrayal of his sons. It was a sad and tragic end for a great historical figure,

and yet we mustn't allow these final years to tarnish the overall understanding that we have of Taizong, or what his period of rule meant for the Tang Dynasty, and for Imperial China altogether. Because in the words, once again, of Howard Weschler, quote, In spite of its ending on a low key, Taizong's reign was the first high point of the Tang, and in some ways a high watermark for all of Chinese history. End quote. Yes, he'd pounded his fist into the granite slab that was Goguryeo and pulled it away bloody as a result. But markedly unlike the second emperor of Sui, he had not ripped his entire empire apart in the attempt. To the contrary, Taizong had left an imperial China sitting in a position more secure and powerful than it had been since the highest heights of the Han dynasty,

with an administrative government more smoothly running than any had been in centuries at a minimum, an economy that was thrumming along at likewise record highs, internally peaceful and orderly, and externally unassailable and with vastly expanded territories. In spite of the disaster against Goguryeo, Taizong's reign would not only be known in its own time as a halcyon period of security and prosperity, but would be looked back upon by Chinese literati for millennia to come as the absolute ideal for what an effective and just government looked like. militarily vigorous and strong ruled in a forceful yet responsive and simultaneously wise and compassionate fashion by a ruler who was exceptionally open to the advice and opinions of his advisors in the years and decades to come there will be dark days indeed for the Tang dynasty and it will be Taizong's era of true vision that would be looked back upon as a goal to restore. A little more than half a century after his death,

the historian Wu Jing would compile a work on Emperor Taizong's conversations with his staff on the basic problems of governance entitled the Zhengguang Zhengyao, meaning the essentials of government of the Zhengguang era. Initially published in 705, it would be studied by emperors and would-be emperors across time as a guidebook on good rule, as well as by imperial advisors who might seek to convince a particularly obstinate monarch of the perils of action without or against ministerial advice. One particularly famous passage goes, quote, When one uses a bronze mirror, one can adjust the clothes and cap.

When one uses the past events as a mirror, one comprehends the rise and fall of a nation. When one uses a person as a mirror, a remonstrator, one sees one's success and missteps. End quote. This volume of Taizong's anecdotes would not only find itself read by Chinese emperors, but would find itself translated and exported to the royal courts of Korea, Japan, and western Xia alike. The later conquest dynasties of China, the rulers of the Qitan Liao, the Zhicheng Jin, and even the Mongol Yuan dynasties, would all likewise have the work translated into their native tongues to learn more

on how they might effectively govern. Emperor Taizong's reign would echo throughout Asia and across the millennia as the model form of government to which one could possibly aspire. To once more quote Weschler, in the eyes of later scholars and historians, his reign, quote, combined the dual virtues of Wen and Wu, civil order and military might, as no reign before or after, end quote. Next time, we'll look into the man who would replace Taizong, his ninth son, Li Zi, the Emperor Gaozong. In addition, we'll begin the unlikely course of one of Taizong's concubines, a young woman who with her lord husband's death had been expected to take up the celibate

vows of a Buddhist nun, but who would defy that, and many other, expectations in the course of her singularly unique lifetime. A woman who would begin life called Wu Zhao, later renamed to Consort Wu Mei, but who would eventually become famous and infamous to history as Wu Zetian. Thank you 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.