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CHAPTER X
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Although Korea was, in theory at least, a tributary
kingdom, the Tang court did not exercise any control over the government, Yang
Ti’s attempts to subject the peninsula to his authority had met with complete
failure, and the late king of Korea had only paid tribute, or seat presents, to
the Tang emperors in order to avert any renewal of the destructive Chinese
invasions. Shih-Min would never have engaged in a costly and difficult war if
the usurping Chuan Kai-Su-Wen had maintained this attitude. But in ad 643 the ambitious dictator of Korea
made war upon his neighbour, the king of Silla, which was also tributary to
China. The Korean ruler furthermore closed his roads to the
ambassadors of Silla to prevent that kingdom holding communication with China.
Nevertheless, Silla, by using the sea route, managed to transmit an appeal for
assistance to the suzerain power.
The Tang court, apprised of the aggressive behaviour
of Korea, sent a firm warning to the court of Ping Jang with orders to cease
all attacks upon Silla. Chuan Kai-Su-Wen, remembering the failure of Yang Ti’s
successive invasions, believed that the Chinese empire was no more capable of
implementing these threats than it had been thirty years before. He paid no
attention to the Tang ambassador, continuing his aggressions upon Silla.
Shih-Min, whose armies had crossed the desert to conquer Karahodjo,
and pursued the Tu-yu-hun through the eternal snows of the Kun Lun mountains, was not disposed to
overlook the insolence of the Korean regicide.
Early in AD 644, the emperor decided to punish the
tyrant and prove that a tributary did not appeal in vain to suzerain China. The
court of Chang An, however, was not in favour of war. The older ministers, who
had most unfortunate memories of Yang Ti’s Korean campaigns, expressed the fear
that Shih-Min would be no more successful. Chu Sui-Liang, President of the
Board of History, memorialised to this effect, and was particularly insistent
that even if it was necessary to punish Korea, the emperor should delegate the
war to his generals. But Shih-Min had found in the projected war an interest
which served to occupy his energies and distract his mind from the memory of
the unhappy events at Chang An in the preceding year. He rejected Chu Sui-Liang’s
advice, confident that his military skill far exceeded that of Yang Ti and the
generals of the Sui dynasty,
No preparation was spared to make this demonstration
of the imperial authority mighty and successful. Szechuan, a rich province,
which almost alone had escaped the devastating rebellions at the end of the
Sui dynasty, was put under contribution to provide a fleet. Four hundred large
ships were built upon the banks of the Yangtze so that the Chinese should
obtain command of the Yellow Sea. It is a singular proof of Shih-Min’s
many-sided genius, that though he was born and resided all his life in inland
country, he folly appreciated the paramount importance of sea power. Napoleon,
though an islander, never learnt this lesson in twenty years of warfare with
England.
The invasion of Korea by a Chinese army did not necessarily
involve a sea passage, but the geographical position of the peninsula made the
sea route both shorter and easier than the long march round the head of the
gulf of Liao Tung, through a country which in the seventh century was largely
an uninhabited wilderness. Yang Ti’s invasions had failed primarily because his
vast hosts starved in the Manchurian waste, many hundreds of miles from their
base in China. The sea route therefore served to supplement the land invasion,
which could then be made with a smaller force.
The strategic plan formed by the emperor made
provision for two distinct invasions. While Li Shih-Chi and Prince Jen Cheng
(Li Tao-Tsung) advanced with 60,000 men through South Manchuria to the Liao
river on the Korean frontier, another general crossed the sea from Lai Chou, a
port on the north coast of Shantung, landing at the mouth of the Yalu river,
which forms the modem frontier between Korea and Manchuria. This force, of
40,000 men conveyed in 500 ships, which was not in itself large enough to
conquer the Korean kingdom, was intended to create a diversion. By menacing the
Korean capital at Ping Jang it would prevent the Koreans from concentrating
their full strength on the Liao river to bar the passage of the land invasion.
The emperor himself intended to join the mainland army after the Liao had been
crossed.
The news of these preparations caused uneasiness in
Korea. The dictator sent an envoy to Chang An who tried to avert the threatened
war by offering a large sum of money as tribute. The emperor had, however,
determined to suppress the regicide by force. The envoy was not received, and
his tribute was rejected. Late in the year AD 644 the emperor proceeded to Lo
Yang, in spite of the renewed protests of the ministers, who remained
unalterably opposed to the emperor personally conducting the campaign. Shih-Min
had made up his mind and would not be dissuaded. Fang Hsuan-Ling was left in
charge of the capital with Li Ta-Liang, an experienced and trusted general, as
commander-in-chief of the military forces in Chang An.
The emperor, accompanied by the new crown prince (Li
Chih), reached Lo Yang at the end of the year, and from that city issued a
proclamation making known his reasons for undertaking the war.
“Chuan Kai-Su-Wei of Korea has murdered his king and
oppresses the people. These things cannot be endured. I am now about to proceed
to the northern borders to bring justice to the country beyond the Liao. The
army will suffer neither loss nor toil. Those who tell how formerly Yang Ti cruelly
sacrificed his soldiers without success, should known that then the king of
Korea was a righteous ruler who loved his people. Their nation being united and
peaceful, a ruthless invading army could not prevail against them. But today
there are five great reasons why we shall conquer.
Firstly, Strength must defeat Weakness;
Secondly, Righteousness must prevail over Iniquity;
Thirdly, Justice will strike down Oppression;
Fourthly, Order will triumph over Confusion;
and fifthly, Benevolence will conquer Hatred.
After passing the New Year at Lo Yang the emperor
started to join the army, leaving Hsiao Yu in charge of the eastern capital. At
Ting Chou, 120 miles south of Peking, the main base of the army, the crown
prince was left in charge as regent, with his maternal great uncle, Kao
Shih-Lien, to advise him. The emperor accompanied by Chang-Sun Wu-Chi then
started for Liao Tung.
Meanwhile the preliminary operations of the Tang
forces, both by land and by sea, had been crowned with success. The fleet
descended upon the coasts of Korea, landing troops near the Yalu river, where
they captured a city probably on the same site as the modern Wiju. This conquest interrupted the direct road from Ping
Jang, the Korean capital, to Liao Yang, the chief city in the northern part of
the kingdom. Ping Jang itself felt menaced by the near presence of an hostile
army on the peninsular coast. As the emperor had foreseen, the fleet and
landing force immobilised a large Korean army, which was retained in the
peninsula to guard Ping Jang. At the same time all hostilities against Silla
had to be suspended.
The Koreans, preoccupied with these dangers near
home, were unable to concentrate their foil strength on the Liao. Li Shih-Chi
and Prince Jen Cheng were therefore able to turn the right flank of the Korean
defences and cross the Liao at an unguarded point far to the north, beyond the
position of modern Mukden. After crossing the rivet the Chinese army seized the
city of Kai Niu, the most northerly fortress of the Korean state. Marching
south, Li Shih-Chi then laid siege to Liao Yang, the chief city of Liao Tung,
or South Manchuria.
The emperor had already reached the frontier, but
before he could join Li Shih-Chi, the Korean army, about 40,000 strong, came
hurrying up to the relief of Liao Yang. The Korean approach had been first
detected by Prince Jen Cheng, who, with an advance guard of 4000 cavalry, was
reconnoitring the country. Although so heavily outnumbered, the Tang prince
did not hesitate to engage the enemy. Owing to the flight of one of his
lieutenants, less bold than he, Prince Jen Cheng was at first repulsed with
severe loss, but in spite of the cowardice of his subordinate the prince
maintained the action with intrepid courage, repeatedly charging the Koreans,
who had no experience of warfare with heavy armed cavalry.
Li Shih-Chi’s opportune arrival with the main army
restored the fortunes of the day, the Korean army retiring from the field in
much disorder after incurring heavy loss. Upon the arrival of Shih-Min, the
general who had disgraced the imperial arms by flight was decapitated in view
of the assembled army.
The Korean army having thus been beaten off, the siege
of Liao Yang was pressed under the direction of the emperor himself. The
Koreans in that age were expert and resolute defenders of fortified places.
Liao Yang itself had twice resisted the continuous onslaughts of Yang Ti’s huge
armies. It might have crowned this record by baffling the better directed Tang
invasion had Shih-Min not made skilful use of an opportunity presented by the
weather.
During a violent south-west gale the emperor ordered
the troops to assault and set fire to the tower upon the southwest angle of
the city wall. This building once aflame, the fire spread swiftly to the town
itself. Driven back by the flames and smoke the Korean garrison was unable to
repel the attackers, who mounted the walls in the wake of the fire, and carried
the city by storm. The Korean loss was heavy. Ten thousand were killed, and the
same number made prisoners, together with the 40,000 inhabitants of Liao Yang.
The city was proclaimed to be annexed to the Tang empire.
The fall of Liao Yang made a deep impression on the
neighbouring towns in Liao Tung, for it was well remembered that three Chinese
invasions under Yang Ti had successively failed to take the capital of northern
Korea. Several cities opened their gates without waiting to be attacked. This
example was not followed by the strongest remaining fortress in Liao Tung, An
Shih Cheng. The Tang army accordingly marched upon this place, and in the
middle of summer laid siege to An Shih Cheng. The Koreans, unable to collect a
new army in time to save Liao Yang, were determined to succour An Shih Cheng.
With a reinforced army, which now amounted to 150,000 men, they advanced
confidently to give battle to the far smaller Chinese force. When three miles
from the walls of the besieged city the Korean army encamped at the base of a
steep hill, to observe the dispositions of the invading army.
In the emperor’s council opinions differed on the best
course to pursue. Prince Jen Cheng (Li Tao-Tsung) considered that as the
Korean army represented all the remaining strength of the kingdom, the emperor
should occupy this force with desultory operations while another Chinese army,
only 10,000 strong, should strike straight at the Korean capital, Ping Jang.
Prince Jen Cheng offered to take command of this force himself, for he believed
that with the main Korean army occupied before An Shih Cheng, he would
encounter no real opposition on the march, and after joining with the troops
landed on the coast, could take Ping Jang and end the war.
Shih-Min, who usually favoured the bold course in war,
on this occasion decided upon more prudent measures. He was haunted by the
memory of Yang Ti’s disastrous invasion of the peninsula, when, after failing
to take Ping Jang, the Sui emperor’s army had been cut to pieces on its retreat
at the crossing of the Yalu. He rejected Prince Jen Cheng’s daring plan,
preferring to wait till the Korean field army had been defeated and An Shih Cheng
taken, before invading the heart of the kingdom.
The historians consider that the emperor was mistaken
in this decision; and that had he followed Prince Jen Cheng’s plan the war
would have ended in a complete Chinese victory. This wisdom after the event
ignores the dangers which Shih-Min was bound to consider. The failure of an
invasion of peninsular Korea and an attempt to take Ping Jang would have been a
military disaster of no mean importance, a severe blow to the prestige of the
empire; whereas even if operations in South Manchuria proved unfortunate, the
army would not be exposed to the perils of a disastrous retreat, and its ill-success
would be less conspicuous.
The emperor therefore decided to give battle before An
Shih Cheng, but not without making careful preparations to ensure a victorious
outcome. Li Shih-Chi with 15,ooo men formed up in battle line opposite the
Korean camp, while the emperor with 4000 picked horsemen remained upon a ridge
some miles north of the city, beyond the extreme right flank of the Korean
position, as if intent upon maintaining the blockade of An Shih Cheng. Other
Tang forces were in fact so engaged, but these were stationed in positions out
of sight of the Korean army. Finally Chang-Sun Wu-Chi was detached with 11,000
men to work his way round by a wide detour till he reached an agreed position
behind the Korean camp. When he had reached the assigned position he informed
the emperor by making smoke signals from the hill tops, and awaited a similar
signal from the emperor before he made his presence known to the enemy.
The Korean general, unaware of these elaborate e manoeuvres saw
nothing but Li Shih-Chi’s 15,000 men, a force vastly inferior in numbers to his
own, and the distant division which Shih-Min himself commanded. Thinking that these last
troops were not likely to join in the battle, the Korean engaged Li Shih-Chi,
who retreated slowly before the weight of the enemy attack till the Koreans had
advanced far from the hills into the plain. Their rear being no longer
protected by the mountain, Shih-Min sent up the agreed smoke signal to
Chang-Sun Wu-Chi, at the same time attacking the Korean right flank with his
own force. The Koreans, at first seeing only Shih-Min’s attack, wheeled their
right flank round to receive him, but while this deployment was in progress,
Chang-Sun Wu-Chi unexpectedly appeared behind them. His attack threw the whole
Korean line into confusion.
Their retreat being cut off, the Korean army suffered
a complete defeat. Twenty thousand were left dead on the field, while 36,000,
who succeeded in retiring to the base of a steep hill, were surrounded and
compelled to surrender. With this force was the commander of the Korean army
himself. Those who escaped capture or the sword dispersed in confusion, the
panic being so great that every town and village for a hundred miles around was
deserted by its inhabitants. The Korean army had ceased to exist, and nothing,
it seemed, but the city of An Shih Cheng, stood between the emperor and the
conquest of Korea.
Shih-Min was justifiably proud of this brilliant
victory, which proved that after twenty years of peace his military genius was
still unimpaired. He sent a triumphant message to the crown prince giving an
account of the battle, adding in his own hand, “When I am at the head of the
army, what else should we expect?”
This rash boast reveals very dearly the underlying
motives which had induced the emperor to take personal command of the army in
this war. After the sordid tragedy of Prince Cheng-Chien, for which, perhaps,
he felt that his own example years before at the Hsuan Wu gate had been in part
responsible, he felt in overpowering desire to regain, in the free atmosphere
of the camp, the undimmed lustre of his youthful fame, when he commanded the
ever-victorious army of the rising Tang dynasty.
But if the battle of An Shih Cheng revived the glories
of Squirrel pass and Ssu Shui, it was to be the last
military success of this war. The siege of the city of An Shih Cheng, which was
now pressed with unexampled vigour, exhausted the strength of the army and
consumed the remaining summer months in unprofitable operations. The Koreans,
though no match for the Tang armies in the field, were redoubtable on the walls
of their cities. Shih-Min was to find that An Shih Cheng resisted every plan of
attack which seventh century military science, directed by a great military
genius, could devise.
When the walls were breached by the action of
battering rams it was found that the Koreans had raised another and stronger defence behind them. When the Chinese constructed a mound
level with the wall and assaulted the city, Prince Jen Cheng was wounded in the
attack, and the undaunted Koreans, counter-attacking, seized the Chinese mound
and incorporated it in their own defences. But though the
Koreans were indomitable in defence, Shih-Min’s vigilance frustrated their
sorties with an equal care.
One day, as he rode round the city on reconnaissance,
the emperor, attentive to every indication of enemy activity, heard an unusual
squawking of fowls. Shih-Min at once ordered Li Shih-Chi to keep the camp under
arms that night in expectation of a sortie. When, in feet, the Koreans made the
attack which the emperor expected, they found the Chinese fully prepared, and
were driven back into the city with severe loss. The generals, marvelling at
the emperor’s prescience, asked him how be had divined the enemy’s intention.
Shih-Min replied, “The squawking of many fowls after so long a siege, when
their provisions must be low, proved that the enemy were making a large
slaughter of the birds. From that I deduced that their purpose was to give a
feast to a body of picked troops, who would be used to make a sortie; as you
see, I was correct”.
Time and weather, so often Shih-Min’s allies in war,
now fought on the opposing side. The short Manchurian autumn was drawing to a
close, and the severe cold winter of this northern land was now at hand.
Already the pasture had withered away, so that fodder for the horses as well as
food for the troops was becoming hard to find. The emperor, who knew too well
what swift disaster lies in wait for the general who ignores the factors of
commissariat and weather, reluctantly decided to abandon the siege before his
army, trapped by winter, suffered the fate of Yang Ti’s unhappy invasions.
After a fruitless siege of sixty-three days the Tang army marched away from An
Shih Cheng, while the Korean garrison commander insolently mounted on the walls
to wish them farewell.
The decision to retire was taken none
too soon. The cold weather comes down in these countries with dangerous
suddenness, and although the retreat was unmolested by the enemy, the troops
suffered severely from the rigours of approaching winter. As some compensation
for the failure before An Shih Cheng, and the continued existence of the
contumacious regicide ruler of Korea, Liao Yang and several other cities were
annexed; while 70,000 Koreans were led captive to China, where they were
settled in the district of modern Peking. These people showed no unwillingness
at becoming the subjects of the great emperor, and so escaping the exactions of
Chuan Kai-Su-Wen’s hard rule. At Ting Chou, the emperor, distressed by the
spectacle of families divided by his soldiers, who had made slaves of their
prisoners, ransomed these unfortunates out of his private revenues, and settled
them in China. These new subjects were so delighted at this unheard-of clemency
that they lined the road along which his chariot passed, manifesting their joy in
shouts and cheers.
The addition of a few cities to the empire could cot
conceal the fact that the Korean campaign had failed in its avowed object, the
punishment of the regicide. Shih-Min returned saddened to Chang An and, which
was far mote serious, weakened in health. Korea remained rebellious, though chastened;
nor was the emperor ever granted the gratification of avenging his check before
An Shih Cheng.
The partial failure of the Korean war had inevitable
repercussions among the Turkish tribes beyond the Gobi. The Sarinda, who
believed that the moment had come to avenge their catastrophic defeat in ad 641, crossed the desert early in ad 646 and endeavoured to invade the
territories of the empire. The Turks were entirely mistaken in their estimate of
the position. In spite of the absence of a large part of the Tang army in the
north-east, there remained ample troops for the defence of the northern
frontier. The Sarinda were met by the frontier troops at Hsia Chou, a city now
no longer inhabited, in the loop of the Yellow river beyond the Great Wall. The
battle went in favour of the Chinese who scored a complete victory.
This defeat was the beginning of the break-up of the
Sarinda confederacy. Troubles broke out among the tribes, which ended in the
open rebellion of the most powerful, the Uigurs. The emperor derided to assist
this tribe in order to effect a lasting division of the Sarinda power. Li
Shih-Chi and Prince Jen Cheng were sent at the head of an army to help the
Uigurs. With this assistance the independent position of the Uigurs was
established, though the tribe was induced to acknowledge the suzerainty of Chang
An.
This campaign, which had seen Chinese armies in action
beyond the Gobi, not only restored the Tang prestige, but spread the fame and
reputation of the great emperor into distant lands which had never before held
communication with China. In the next year the envoys of a people called Kulikan arrived at Ch’ang An. Their land was beyond the Western Sea (either
the Caspian or Aral), but so far to the north that the historian remarks that “the days there are very long and the
nights very short”. Evidently this country lay close to the Arctic Circle, as
it was only known to travellers who penetrated in the summer months. It would
appear that Kulikan was in the north-west of Siberia,
or even west of the Urals.
From some similar part of the world came the
ambassadors of Chieh Ku, who arrived in Chang An in AD 648. The people of Chieh
Ku made a great impression on the Chinese, for they had an appearance hitherto
unheard of. These strangers, in fact, “had red hair and blue eyes, they were
very tall, and though there were dark-haired people among them, these were not
well regarded”. Their country, “3ooo li (1000 miles) north-west of the Uigurs”,
must have been somewhere on the eastern slopes of the Ural mountains. After
their envoys had been feasted and entertained they were given gifts, and, what
was even mote to their liking, titles of rank in the Tang army.
From this account it will be plain
that the Chieh Ku, by whatever they
really called themselves, were a people of Nordic race, a white ruling clan
with a subject “dark-haired” race, perhaps Mongol, under their authority. The
possibility that they were some early settlement of Vikings, who had
established a kingdom an one of the great rivers of Siberia, seems not
improbable. Byzantium wis in a few years to be employing Varangian guards drawn
from the same far-wandering stock.
The prestige and power of the Tang
empire was as much respected in the tropical lands of the south as in the
frozen solitudes of northern Asia. The astonishing exploits of Wang Hsuan-Tse, Chinese ambassador to the states of India, strikingly
exemplify the weight which the emperor’s name carried in the most distant
countries. In the year ad 649 the
ambassador with an escort of only thirty Chinese officers and attendants was
collecting “tribute”, i.e. presents, from the kings of northern India,
when he was attacked and despoiled of this treasure by Alanashun,
king of Tinafuti, which was in central India. This
king, who is said to have been a usurper, had refused to hold diplomatic
intercourse with China.
Wang Hsuan-Tse, nothing
daunted by his misfortune, escaped with his suit to Nepal, where using the name
of the emperor, he demanded troops from the king of that country and his
neighbour the king of Tibet; both of whom had accepted the alliance and vague
suzerainty of the Tang empire (cf. “friend and ally of the Roman people”). It
speaks volumes for the majesty of the Tang court that this isolated official,
hundreds of miles from the nearest Chinese frontier, could obtain from these
kings the troops he required. Tibet contributed 1200 men, and Nepal 7000.
At the head of this army Wang Hsuan-Tse entered India, and met King Alanashun at a city which the Chinese call Cha Po Ho La on the River Kan Tu Wei, possibly Chapra on the Ganges. The Indian king gave battle,
which was renewed on three successive days, until complete victory rested with
the Chinese general. Alanashun fled, but was pursued,
defeated again, and taken prisoner, together with his wives and children,
attendants and followers, to the number of 12,ooo people. The kingdom having
been pacified and restored to its rightful prince, Wang Hsuan-Tse returned in triumph to Chang An leading the captive
king in his train. All the kings of India sent “tribute” and polite messages to
the Chinese emperor.
But while the generals of the empire were enforcing respect,
and taking “tribute” from these distant countries, the emperor who had raised
China to this commanding position in Asia was nearing the end of his life.
Shih-Min never recovered from the hardships of the Korean war. Although he was
now only forty-nine years old, his constitution had perhaps been weakened by
the ardours of his early life, and not least by the poison draught with which
his eldest brother had so nearly achieved his murder. During the years that
followed the Korean war the emperor was continuously in bad health. A journey
to the north-west, the highlands of Kansu, did not improve his health, and the
attacks of his malady became mote frequent.
The increasing illness of the emperor was not the only
shadow which fell over the glories of Chang An in these years. Death was taking
steady toll of the famous ministers and generals who had done so much to second
the emperor in his life work. Kao Shih-Lien died in ad 646. Ma Chou, the censor and author of the reform of the
provincial administration, died two years later. In AD 649 the court sustained the mote serious loss of two of
the most eminent statesmen, Fang Hsuan-Ling and Hsiao Yu. The general Li
Ta-Liang died at Chang An during the Korean war.
These deaths, and the manifestly failing health of the
emperor himself, gave rise to a certain unrest, a stirring of dormant
ambitions, which in an eastern court is the first response to the breath of
approaching change. The court no less than the emperor were concerned at the
prevalence of another of those curious prophecies, such as had heralded the
fell of Yang Ti. Everywhere it was being whispered, “After three generations of
Tang emperors, the dynasty of a woman, ‘Prince Wu’, will rule the empire”.
Unlike the prophecy which foretold the imperial
greatness of the name of Li, this forecast did not prove entirely accurate,
though it greatly influenced the men of the time. The feet that the prophecy
was in part fulfilled in after years might lead to the suspicion that it had
been concocted in later times, but for the incident concerning an officer whose
title, rank and first name all had “ Wu” characters, although his surname was
not Wu. This officer was so much influenced by the prophecy that he believed
himself to be the subject of it. He became involved in a conspiracy, and was
executed for high treason. This severity was necessary, for such prophecies in
an age and land where they gain easy credence, tend to fulfil themselves by
rallying support to a pretender who is popularly believed to be the individual
whose future fortune has been predestined.
The Lady Wu, who had been taken into
the palace late in Shih-Min’s reign, was taken as a concubine by his son and successor.
In later years the won het way to the rank of empress, and, after her husband’s
death, actually ruled China in her own name as the Empress Wu. Although she did
plan to substitute her own family for the house and found a new dynasty, she failed
to accomplish this design, and in extreme old age was forced to resign her
power. The legitimate line of Tang princes was then restored to the throne.
This particular intrigue was the more serious as the
emperor was now so ill that those about him realised that his death was near.
The youth of the crown prince and the recent death of many of the most
responsible ministers made a dangerous situation, which the dying emperor did
his best to foresee and provide against. The death of Li Ching in the early
months of this year, ad 649, left
Li Shih-Chi by far the most powerful and influential military officer in the
empire. In the civil administration, death had left only Chang-Sun Wu-Chi and
Chu Sui-Liang among the intimate circle of Shih-Min’s cabinet. It was to be
feared that with a youthful and inexperienced prince on the throne, Li Shih-Chi,
forgetting the loyalty of a lifetime might be tempted to make some
revolutionary change.
Shih-Min, although he believed and trusted in the
loyalty of the great general, did not feel justified in taking the risk. He
called the crown prince to his bedside and gave him his final counsels on this
matter. “I am going to appoint Li Shih-Chi to a post in the provinces”, he
said, “if he goes without question or delay, you will recall him after my death
and confide in him, as I have done, as great general of the empire. But if he
hesitates, or refuses the position, when I am dead you must put him to death
without delay.”
The emperor’s reasons for this advice were sound. If
Li Shih-Chi, who knew that Shih-Min was dying, accepted his removal from the
capital and the army at such a critical time, it could be safely assumed that
he entertained no disloyal ambitions. But if he tried to delay or refused the
offered post, it would be plain that he cherished secret schemes, and was anxiously
awaiting the emperor’s death to further his plans. The event proved that Li
Shih-Chi was entirely loyal to his sovereign. On receiving his appointment he
departed from Chang An without even taking the time to return to his own house.
The crown prince, when emperor, followed Shih-Min’s advice, and recalled Li
Shih-Chi to his former position.
The foresight and prudence with which Shih-Min
arranged the affairs of the government prevented any disturbance, permitting
his son to inherit the throne without the slightest difficulty.
In the summer of AD 649, Shih-Min, knowing that his
end was near, left Chang An for the last time and retired to his favourite
summer residence, the Kingfisher Blue Palace (Tsui Wei Kung) in the Nan Shan
mountains south of the capital. There, attended by his faithful friend,
Chang-Sun Wu-Chi, and his son the crown prince, who was overcome with a real
grief, he died in the forty-ninth year of his age.
The histories of all nations plentifully record the
careers of conquerors who, conceiving that their work was done when the last
battle had been gained, devoted the succeeding years of peace to a life of
luxury and careless ease. There have been few great commanders, who, on the
morrow of victory, not only understood that the hardest task, the organisation
of enduring peace, still lay ahead, but also possessed the talents to achieve
it. Peace and unity are not in themselves enough. For Li Shih-Min the tragic
example of the Sui dynasty proved that an empire conquered and united by
successful wars can be as speedily lost by tyrannical misgovernment. To
re-establish a unified empire on a lasting foundation the emperor needed as
much ability in the council chamber as he had been proved to possess on the
battlefield.
Li Shih-Min’s true title to greatness is his success in this new sphere. He became fer more famous as a wise, far-seeing administrator, than be had been as a conquering hero. To the Chinese the name of the great emperor is more familiar as the model of the Confucian prince, than as the brilliant victor of many battles. In this their judgment is correct. Other young generals have gained a meteoric reputation, but their conquests hardly endured beyond their life time. The work of Li Shih-Min was permanent. Before his time unity in China had been the exception, the achievement of a few strong dynasties: feudalism and partition bad been the rule. But from the seventh century onwards China has far more often, and for far longer, been united than divided. Partitions have been the consequence of partial foreign conquest, or a temporary interlude between strong dynasties. Always the Tang tradition has re-asserted itself. That tradition, of a unified empire, administered by a civil service taking its orders from one supreme central authority, was the life’s work of Li Shih-Min, and it has maintained and spread in the Far East the Chinese culture, one of the great civilising forces in the world’s history.
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