CHAPTER VI.

THE HSUAN WU GATE, AD 626

The conquest of the southern pretenders in ad 625 completed the pacification of the whole China empire, which was henceforward peacefully united beneath the sway of the Tang dynasty. For some years after the restoration of internal peace the new dynasty had still to sustain a vexatious war with its northern neighbours, the elusive Turks, now ruled by an energetic sovereign, Qadir Khan. While Shih-Min was occupied in defending the frontiers against this external menace, the security of the state and the hard-won unity of the empire were threatened with destruction by an enemy placed in the very centre of the political system.

Li Chien-Cheng, the eldest son of Li Yuan, had been appointed crown prince at the foundation of the Tang dynasty. Unfortunately he possessed none of the qualities fitting him to rule an empire, nor, apart from the right of birth, had he any claim to a throng which owed its existence and preservation to the genius of his younger brother. There was therefore a latent weakness in the new dynasty. The reigning emperor, Li Yuan, was vacillating, credulous and ageing. At his death the vast empire, conquered by Shih-Min, would pass to Chien-Cheng, who had done nothing to acquire such power, and had not the talents to wield it wisely.

If Chien-Cheng had been capable of a generous recognition of the obligations he owed to Shih-Min, sought his assistance and cultivated his friendship, it is probable that the younger brother would have served him faithfully, as minister and general, without other ambitions. But the crown prince was by nature jealous and suspicious, a debauchee addicted to the vices for which Shih-Min, the man of action, had neither the time nor the inclination.

The contrast was painfully obvious. Chien-Cheng came to feel that the very existence of his younger brother offered a silent rebuke to his own unworthy character.

The jealousy of the crown prince was stimulated by the malicious intrigues of Li Yuan-Chi Prince Chi, the youngest of Li Yuan’s three sons. Yuan-Chi had something of the energy and leadership of Shih-Min, though lacking his brother’s courage. In his private life he shared die debauched tastes of Chien-Cheng, as has already been recorded in connection with his conduct as governor of Shansi. The crown prince and his youngest brother became fest friends, their relationship cemented by a common hatred of Shih-Min.

The fresh laurels won by Shih-Min in the campaign against Liu Hei-Ta inflamed his brothers’ growing envy to the point of active hostility. Towards the end of the year A.D. 622 the two princes began a series of intrigues which aimed to alienate Shih-Min from the emperor’s affection and work his downfall. The Lady Tou, consort of Li Yuan, and mother of the three princes, had died before the dynasty was founded. Her place in the affections of the emperor was eagerly disputed by a large harem of concubines, for Li Yuan had grown uxorious with increasing age and prosperity. The two brothers used these women as the channel for their slanderous accusations. The concubines, flattered, bribed, and gratified by the two princes, who lived so much at court, were easily made to dislike the young soldier who was always absent the wars, and when he made his brief appearances at Chang An, spent neither time nor money courting the favour of the palace ladies.

The queen, Chang Chieh-Yu, was the most active friend of the crown prince in the palace. This lady had conceived a personal spite against Shih-Min, not directly connected with the jealousies of Chien-Cheng. After the fall of Lo Yang, Queen Chang Chieh-Yu had, by the favour of the emperor, obtained for her father the gift of a valuable estate in tile conquered city. This estate had, however, already been granted by Shih-Min to his uncle, Li Sen-Tung Prince Huai An, as a reward fox his services in the war.

Hearing this, the two princes instigated the queen to accuse Shih-Min of upsetting the decrees of the emperor by assigning to his favourites land which the emperor had already allotted to others. To this accusation, a complete inversion of the real facts, they added the general charge that Shih-Min had kept for himself the spoils of Lo Yang, which should have been paid into the treasury. Li Yuan, always credulous, flew into a rage, and from this time onwards began to suspect Shih-Min. Although the accusation was disproved, the impression produced on the emperor remained.

Queen Chang Chieh-Yu actively fanned the flame of Li Yuan’s ill-humour. Every incident which could be turned to Shih-Min’s discredit was related in distorted form to the emperor. Tu Ju-Hui, an officer of Shih-Min’s household, having occasion to call on the father of the queen, rode into the courtyard on horseback, as his rank entitled him to do. He was at once attacked by the servants, who set upon him, pulling him from his horse, shouting, “Who are you to cross our threshold mounted?”. The queen related her own version of this fracas to the emperor, saying that Shih-Min had sent his officers to insult her father. Li Yuan called upon Shih-Min to make an explanation, but refused to believe his account of the affair.

The hold which the intriguing Chang Chieh-Yu had obtained upon his father’s affection was naturally a source of sorrow to Shih-Min, who had been very much attached to his mother. He could not conceal the resentment he felt at his father’s weakness, and the favour shown to his mother’s unworthy successor. On one occasion, at a state banquet, Shih-Min, seeing this queen seated in the place which his own mother, had she lived, would have occupied, was overcome with bitter reflections. All this glory and pomp, which had been secured by his own achievements, had come too late for his mother to enjoy;   Li Yuan lavished his favour on unworthy women of no merit. Tears came into his eyes. Throughout the feast he remained silent, plunged in gloom.

Chang Chieh-Yu, ever on the alert to observe faults in Shih-Min’s conduct, did not fail to note his despondent attitude, and draw matter for a new insinuation. After the feast she came in tears to the emperor, declaring that the prince’s gloomy and menacing manner was a proof of the hatred which he bore to her. She feared that after the death of Li Yuan, Shih-Min would ruthlessly massacre the concubines and their children. At the same time she praised the gentle and decorous conduct of Chien-Cheng and Yuan-Chi, adding, with a sigh, that it was to be feared that these princes would never escape the wrath of the evil Shih-Min. The emperor, who could no longer disguise from himself the enmity growing up between his sons, believed the queen’s account of Shih-Min’s behaviour at the feast, and was much displeased.

It is probable that these court intrigues would have led to some violent tragedy at an early date, had not the exigencies of frontier defence called Li Shih-Min away from Chang An to campaign against the Turks. While the prince passed the greater part of AD 623 in north Shansi, blocking by the terror of his name the threatened invasion of these barbarians, the crown prince, as has been recorded in chap. 5, undertook the final campaign against Liu Hei-Ta. The absence from Chang An of all the brothers, postponed, for a time, the prosecution of their quartet

The next year the crown prince returned to court, his pride swollen by the prestige of his cheaply obtained victory over Liu Hei-Ta. Shih-Min had also returned from the frontiers, where his success in checking the Turks was more generally applauded than the capture of the eastern rebel. The two princes, disappointed to find their hated brother still the idol of the populace and the hero of the army, decided to take extreme measures. Secretly enlisting desperadoes, they sought an opportunity to assassinate Shih-Min without being directly implicated in the crime.

In the summer of AD 624 Li Yuan moved to his summer palace, accompanied by Shih-Min and Yuan-Chi, leaving the crown prince in charge of the capital. From this arrangement it may be surmised that the emperor was already afraid to leave Shih-Min and Chien-Cheng together in his absence. His fears were only too well founded. The crown prince and Yuan-Chi had decided to avail themselves of this opportunity to kill Shih-Min on the journey. A fortuitous change of plan the last moment frustrated the plot, and brought the conspiracy to light.

Chien-Cheng at Chang An, learning that his father had been informed of the whole plot, was left in a most embarrassing position. At one moment tempted to seize the city, declare the emperor deposed, and usurp the throne, at the next he balanced the wisdom of going straight to Li Yuan and begging for forgiveness. The dangers of the bolder plan were great. As Shih-Min still lived, the army would obey him and support the emperor, for Chien-Cheng had few friends among the generals and still less favour with the soldiers. On the other hand, be feared that if he surrendered, his crime would be punished with degradation, or even death.

Finally he chose the more prudent course. Riding to the emperors Chien-Cheng, prostrate at his father’s feet, confessed his crime. Li Yuan, his eyes last opened to the real position, at first proposed to take firm action. The crown prince was confined in the camp while Shih-Min was summoned to the imperial presence. Li Yuan then informed his second son that he had never forgotten that the family owed its elevation to Shih-Min, who had planned the original revolt, and fought every subsequent war to a victorious conclusion. Therefore the succession to the throne was his just due. Chien-Cheng, having proved unworthy, would be degraded to the subordinate dignity of prince, with Szechuan province as his appanage. “As the soldiers of that country are weak and unwarlike, he will never be able to menace your power, while if he rebels you can easily suppress him. This is my decision, for unlike Sui Wen Ti (Yang Chien) I will never consent to kill my own son.”

Li Yuan-Chi and Queen Chang Chieh-Yu, who had escaped suspicion for their share in the plot, were in despair at this, to them, disastrous development. They left no artifice unused in an assiduous campaign to change the emperor’s decision. As Shih-Min, who had never intrigued against his brothers, took no steps to counter their persuasions, Li Yuan, always weak, always willing to accept the advice of the last comer, finally succumbed to this persistent propaganda, and revoked his decree. Chien-Cheng was restored to his rank and title; Shih-Min was never appointed crown prince. Apart from the exile of some of the crown prince’s unworthy attendants, the whole conspiracy was left unpunished, the weak monarch contenting himself with futile exhortations to his sons to live in harmony.

As might be supposed, the two princes escaping unscathed from the consequences of their plot were encouraged to form fresh conspiracies to compass the death of their brother, who was now aware of the lengths to which their enmity could go. The intrigues with the ladies of the harem were renewed, and Shih-Min’s every word and act related to the emperor in a distorted form. The crown prince did not make any open attempt on his brother’s life; but endeavoured to cause his death in a manner which should appear accidental.

An opportunity presented itself when the three princes had accompanied the emperor on a hunting expedition. Chien-Cheng offered Shih-Min a particularly fine horse which, however, had a very vicious temper. It was his hope that Shih-Min would attempt to master this beast and suffer a fatal accident. In fact Shih-Min found the horse quite unmanageable. Three times he was thrown, until Yu-Wen Shih-Chi remonstrated, urging him to abandon the attempt. Shih-Min replied, “Death and life are fore-ordained, so what is the risk”. Chien-Cheng overheard this remark, which he repeated to Chang Chieh-Yu.

The intriguing concubine was quick to see an opportunity in this apparently innocent saying. She went to Li Yuan, declaring that Shih-Min had said, “I have the Mandate of Heaven and will be lord of the empire, so what is the risk”. “Tien Ming”, the “Mandate of Heaven”, is the Chinese equivalent of Divine Right, the attribute of royalty. Shih-Min’s remark in this distorted form thus sounded to Li Yuan like a statement of claim to the throne. In a great rage the emperor summoned Shih-Min and furiously upbraided him. When the prince replied that if he was accused of disloyalty he would willingly stand a trial, confident of his innocence, the emperor angrily refused to continue the discussion.

A call to the defence of the frontier kept Shih-Min away from court throughout the year ad 615, postponing a crisis which was now inevitable. On his return to Chang An his brothers were ready with a new scheme. The crown prince had devised a plan which promised certain success. Instead of hostility, he received his brother with professions of friendship, and seemed to seek a reconciliation. A banquet was to be given by Chien-Chang to celebrate Shih-Min’s return, and so complete was the pretence, that the prince went to the feast unsuspecting. No open violence was attempted, but Shih-Min was given poisoned wine, from the effect of which he fell the ground vomiting blood. The presence of mind of his uncle, Prince Huai An, saved his life. Prince Huai An, refusing to allow any member of the crown prince’s household to attend the prince, escorted Shih-Min back to his own palace, where thanks to his hardy constitution, fortified by an open air life, he recovered. Had Chien-Cheng not made the mistake of giving his brother an overdose of the poison, and so causing acute nausea, he would have accomplished his design.

This second attempt on Shih-Min’s life caused a great stir. Although the crown prince could not be convicted of the responsibility, impudently declaring that Shih-Min had been drunk “and could not hold his wine”, Li Yuan had no real doubt as to what had taken place. Once more he resolved to make some definite settlement which would dissipate the causes of this deadly quarrel. He now proposed to make Shih-Min paramount viceroy of all the eastern part of China with headquarters at Lo Yang, a partition which would make the prince co-emperor. The decree was promulgated, to the general relief of all Shih-Min’s friends, who feared that he would not long survive the murderous plots of his brothers if he stayed in Chang An.

But the news of the emperor’s decision caused the most lively anxiety to the two princes. They knew that when once Shih-Min was established at Lo Yang he would be beyond the reach of their enmity. Moreover he would be placed in a situation highly advantageous for a contest for the throne when Li Yuan died. With the pick of the army, and an independent base at the eastern capital, it was certain that Shih-Min could prevail over his unwarlike brother whenever he chose to match on Chang An. The crown prince and Yuan-Chi determined that at all coats this partition must be prevented. Ably assisted by the wily tongue of Chang Chieh-Yu they once more achieved their object. When Li Yuan was told that the followers of Shih-Min had manifested unconcealed delight on hiring of the new partition, and had openly boasted of their intention to organise revolt as soon as they reached Lo Yang, the vacillating emperor not only revoked his partition decree, but decided to arrest Shih-Min on a charge of treason.

This last folly was prevented by the vehement protests of Chen Shu-Ta, who not only emphasised Shih-Min’s outstanding services to the dynasty, but urged the emperor to make an adequate settlement on the lines of his earlier decree. The weak monarch was next assailed by his son Li Yuan-Chi, who, hoping to strike while the iron was hot, demanded his brother’s instant execution. This unnatural request Li Yuan still had the firmness to refuse.

That summer (ad 626) at Chang An was overclouded by the lowering menace of the approaching crisis. The success of the crown prince in frustrating every favourable settlement had increased the strength of his following. All who believed that the future lay with the acknowledged heir, whose influence appeared to dominate the foolish emperor, rallied to the party of the two princes. Only tried friends remained in the menaced household of Li Shih-Min. Even among the prince’s friends and intimates despondency and foreboding were undisguised. The open enmity of the heir of the empire, the weakness and credulity of the reigning monarch, and the incessant intrigues of the harem were so many menaces overshadowing the life of Li Shih-Min, and equally threatening his followers with ruin and death,

These fears were accentuated by the apathetic attitude of the prince himself. Although he had long known himself to be the object of his brothers’ murderous plots, he had never made any attempt to convict his enemies, or to defend himself against their malignant intrigues. It seemed as if this forbearance had merely served to establish his enemies in so strong a position that it was now too late to avert the blow.

It was Fang Hsuan-Ling, Shih-Min’s principal civil adviser, who first proposed vigorous counter-measures. He approached the prince’s brother-in-law, Chang-Sun Wu-Chi. Finding themselves in complete agreement, these two, joined by Tu Ju-Hui, came to Shih-Min and urged him to defend himself. Tu Ju-Hui went further. He openly suggested that Shih-Min should slay his brothers before they had time to accomplish their own murderous designs. The prince rejected this advice; he was not yet prepared to commit fratricide merely to forestall the enmity of his brothers.

They, for their part, had no such scruples. Their next plan was to attempt to bribe the captain of Shih-Min's body­guard, his close friend Yu-Chih Ching-Te. This faithful officer flatly refused to join their party or touch their money. Instead, he informed Shih-Min of their proposals. The princes, having made a false move by approaching a man of Yu-Chih’s type with such an infamous suggestion, to cover up their tracks attempted to assassinate that officer. Li Chih Ching-Te, knowing their plans, left his gate open. The murderers, urging this, were unable to decide whether it portended gross carelessness or some cunning trap. Therefore they did not date to enter the house.

Baffled by the loyalty of Shih-Min’s officers, the crown prince next tried to have these faithful friends removed from his brother’s side. He had Yu-Chih Ching-Te impeached on a charge of treason. Shih-Min had still sufficient influence to quash these proceedings, but he was less able to prevent his officers being appointed to distant posts in the provinces, a device of Chien-Cheng’s invention, which threatened to leave Shih-Min unprotected. One of these officers gave him warning of the danger. “Your Highness is letting them pluck all your feathers; if it goes on, how long do you think you can keep on flying?”

He was not the only friend to urge the prince to action. Chang-Sun Wu-Chi, his wife’s under Kao Shih-Lien, Yu-Chih Ching-Te, and another officer, Hou Chun-Chi, came night and day to press him to defend himself by slaying the brothers who had already so many times attempted his life. But still the prince refused to take extreme measures.

The delay might well have proved fatal. Chien-Cheng and Yuan-Chi had concocted a new plot, which they believed could not fail. Profiting by an incursion of the Turks, the crown prince obtained for Yuan-Chi the command of the army which was to be sent against the invaders. He also obtained an order against Shih-Min’s veteran troops and officers under Yuan-Chi’s orders. The princes hoped that when this order had been carried out Shih-Min would be left at their mercy without friends or troops.

Fortunately Shih-Min was not only popular with the army, but admired by the populace at large as the hero of the age. The designs of his enemies could not be formulated without some rumour reaching the ears of those who were devoted to him. One night a certain officer in the service of the crown prince, revolted by the treacherous character of his master, came secretly to Shih-Min’s palace. There he related to Shih-Min a conversation between Chien-Cheng and Yuan-Chi, which he had managed to overhear. It appeared that the crown prince had said to his brother, “As soon as the troops and officers of Shih-Min’s army have left Chang An to join the army against the Turks, I will invite Shih-Min to a farewell banquet, which we will give to you before you leave for the north. The feast will be at a garden outside the city. Desperadoes will be lying in ambush, who will slay Shih-Min at a given signal. We will then immediately report to the emperor that Shih-Min was murdered by mutinous soldiers”.

To give colour to this assertion Yuan-Chi was to have all Shih-Min’s closest friends put to death at once, as guilty of the crime. If Li Yuan would not accept this explanation of the tragedy, the two princes at the head of the army would return to Chang An, carry out a revolution, and enthrone Chien-Cheng as emperor.

Shih-Min could no longer doubt his desperate danger. He summoned his intimate friends to council, and, headed by Chang-Sun Wu-Chi, they unanimously urged him to act first. Shih-Min did not allow himself to be persuaded so easily. He suggested that it would be more honourable to allow his brothers to commit the first act of hostility, after which he could oppose them in the name of law and loyalty to the emperor. Yu-Chih Ching-Te brushed aside these legal niceties in his forthright manner. “Unless you will protect yourself, we cannot”, he said, “and in that case I shall abandon your service.”

Chang-Sun Wu-Chi declared that he would be forced to do the same. Shih-Min then asked Yu-Chih what he advised. That officer did not mince his words. “If you have any doubts, you lack wisdom; and if you still hesitate in the face of danger, you have no courage. Take 800 picked men, break into the palace of the crown prince and settle the matter.”

Shih-Min then said, “Who else should be killed?”

With one voice all those present exclaimed, “Prince Chi (Yuan-Chi) is evil and unbrotherly”. One added that Yuan­Chi had been overheard to say, “One day I shall be the master. When Shih-Min has gone it will be as easy to take the Eastern Palace as turn my hand”.

To clinch the argument the officers said to the prince, “What manner of man, in your opinion, was the Emperor Shun?’’

“Shun was a sage”, replied Shih-Min.

“Yet”, they answered, “when his father cast him into a well, he did not remain there till he drowned, but climbed out. Had he not done so, China in later years would not have benefited by his wise government. Is it not said: Small wrongs may be endured, but great evils must be resisted?”

The prince made no direct reply to this appeal to precedent. Instead he called for lots. But before they could be cast, one of the officers of the guard, bursting into the council room, upset the table, throwing the lots to the ground. “Lots”, he exclaimed, “may be used to decide a doubtful matter. Here there is no room for hesitation, of what use ate the lots? If the answer was unfavourable, would you take no action? It is time to make a plan.”

Shih-Min had procrastinated so long in order to test the fidelity of his friends. Assured of their unflinching support, he now threw off all hesitation and became once more the alert, resourceful, commander, planning a victorious battle. Chang-Sun Wu-Chi was sent to fetch Fang Hsuan-Ling and Tu Ju-Hui, who had not been present at this conference, scarcely daring to go near Shih-Min’s palace. In fact these two had been so depressed by Shih-Min’s apathetic attitude and were now so hopeless of his cause, that they refused the summons, saying, “We have an order from the emperor forbidding us to serve the prince. Should we now disobey and go secretly to him we would be guilty of a capital crime”.

When Shih-Min was informed of this reply, the qualities which had made him redoubtable on the battlefield, but which he seemed to have lost in this less honourable warfare of the palace intrigue, flashed out. Drawing his sword he said to Yu-Chih Ching-Te, “Fang and Tu wish to desert me. Take this to them, and if they will not come bring me their heads”.

When Yu-Chih Ching-Te arrived with this grim message the two statesmen, recognising the voice of the authentic Shih-Min, made no further delay. Singly and secretly, disguised against spying eyes under the robes of Taoist priests, they made their way through the dark city to the palace of Shih-Min. Behind the closed doors of the prince’s mansion the night was spent in feverish activity. A memorial was prepared, and sent secretly to the emperor. In this document the crimes and conspiracies of the two princes were fully expounded. Li Yuan, though shocked and alarmed by the accusation, still put off decisive action. He replied that he would investigate the matter the next day, summoning Shih-Min to appear at the morning audience.

The prince, however, was weary of these delays, which only increased the danger of his situation. Li Yuan, he knew from past experience, might promise, but he would never perform. His brothers, he knew, would never relax their implacable enmity It was useless to assert to some new compromise which would only famish his enemies with fresh opportunities for plotting. His mind was made up: his plans were ready.

At dawn Shih-Min, attended by Yu-Chih Ching-Te, Chang-Sun Wu-Chi, and fifty of his picked guards rode out fully armed to the Hsuan Wu gate, the north gate of the Palace City. There he placed his men in ambush in the trees near the gateway. Shih-Min knew that if the crown prince and Yuan-Chi went to court they would enter the Palace City by this gate. Secret though his move was, the spies of Chang Chieh-Yu had none the less learned something of it. She had time to warn the princes that Shih-Min had left his palace with an armed following, and was apparently meditating some strong action.

On hearing this news, Yuan-Chi prudently suggested to Chien-Cheng that, pretending illness, or declaring that the guards had prevented them entering the palace, they should not go to court that morning, but await developments. But the crown prince, who remembered the failure of his first plot, and how nearly he had suffered degradation when it was discovered, feared that if Shih-Min saw the emperor alone, he would expose all their iniquities and obtain an order for their arrest He decided that they must see Li Yuan themselves at any cost. “Our troops are numerous and can overawe all opposition”, he said, “We can safely go to the palace and keep watch on the progress of affairs.”

Believing that with, their numerous following they were in no danger, Chien-Cheng and Yuan-Chi rode lightly attended to the palace, expecting to pass in before Shih-Min had arrived. Outside the Hsuan Wu gate something warned Chien-Cheng that all was not well. Perhaps he missed the accustomed guards, or felt some premonition. Checking his horse, he turned abruptly, and started to make off the way he had come. But before he could escape, Shih-Min, giving the shout which acted as a signal to his men, sprang from his ambush. Yuan-Chi was the first to shoot; he loosed three arrows at his brother, but missed every shot. Not so Shih-Min. His long experience at war, and his matchless skill as an archer, stood him in good stead. His first arrow struck Chien-Cheng through the heart. Yu-Chih Ching-Te and the soldiers, at this sight, rushed out of the trees and cut off the retreat of Yuan-Chi, who, wounded by an arrow, fell from his horse. The desperate young man seeing Shih-Min’s horse tethered to a tree attempted to mount it, but the horse reared and plunged, scared by the ferocious shouts which Yu-Chih Ching-Te uttered with this purpose. Yuan-Chi, unable to mount, fled on foot till he fell dead, pierced by an arrow from Yu-Chih Ching-Te’s bow. The followers of the two princes then fled from the scene.

The city was soon in an uproar. The partisans of the crown prince were numerous, and the feet of his death not at first realised. Two thousand of his bodyguard rode up to the Hsuan Wu gate and attacked the palace. In the middle of this tumult, Yu-Chih Ching-Te, mounting the wall, displayed the severed heads of Chien-Cheng and Yuan-Chi, thus convincing the soldiers that they were fighting for a lost cause. At this proof of the death of the princes their followers dispersed, flying from the city to seek refuge in the mountains, or hiding at the houses of relatives and friends.

While these sanguinary events were taking place at the Hsuan Wu gate, the emperor, accompanied by Hsiao Yu and Chin Shu-Ta, was enjoying the freshness of the early summer morning an the  in the palace grounds. His first intimation of the revolution came when Yu-Chih Ching-Te, whom Shih-Min had ordered to report events to the emperor, appeared in the imperial presence still in his armour and with his uncleansed sword in his hand. Li Yanu startled at this alarming apparition, exclaimed, “What has happened? Why do yon appear like this before me?”

Yu-Chih Ching-Te replied, “Prince Chin (Shih-Min) knowing that Chien-Cheng and Yuan-Chi were meditating rebellion, took soldiers and has had them executed. He sends me to inform you, fearing that you might have heard some disturbance and been alarmed”.

The emperor, overwhelmed by this terrible intelligence, could only mutter, “I did not expect to see this day. What must I do now?”

Hsiao Yu and Chen Shu-Ta, both of whom were friendly to Shih-Min, hastened to seize this opportunity. They ex­pounded the wickedness and crimes of the two dead princes, who had contributed nothing to the welfare of the state, contrasting the record of Shih-Min, who had borne the brunt of the wars which had founded the dynasty. On their advice the emperor signed a decree approving Shih-Min’s action, and appointing him generalissimo of all troops in the empire. As soon as this news was published the tumults in the city were quickly pacified, and the remaining supporters of the princes went into hiding.

Shih-Min then sought an interview with his father. Li Yuan, relieved perhaps by this solution of his most difficult problem, was most affectionate, exclaiming, “This day has come to clear up all my doubts”.

The emperor does not seem to have realised that it was his own weakness and indecision that had made the tragedy inevitable.

Upon the advice of Yu-Chih Ching-Te, Shih-Min urged the emperor to grant a general amnesty to all those officers and ministers who had served the dead princes, an act of generosity very rare in that age. Of the officials who thus escaped, Wei Cheng was by far the most notable. A man of outstanding moral courage and a blunt tongue, he made no servile submission when brought before Shih-Min. Asked why he had served the crown prince in his plots, Wei Ching bluntly remarked “Chien-Cheng was foolish. Had he taken my advice the events of today would have ended differently’’. Shih-Min admired his frankness and knew his talents. To the general surprise he took Wei Cheng into his household and made him a confidential adviser.

One group of people was excluded from the amnesty. According to Chinese custom and law the family share the responsibility of the individual’s crime. Therefore the children of the two princes were held equally guilty with their fathers, and in order to prevent any future claim from these descendants, or leave a focus for future conspiracies, the five sons of Chien-Cheng and the five sons of Yuan-Chi were put to death .This massacre of innocents, which seems so inhuman to our age and outlook, was an essential corollary of the Chinese clan system. To the men of the seventh century it seemed natural and inevitable.

It may be felt that these executions leave a stain on Shih-Min’s reputation and character, but if he is judged by the only just standard, the beliefs and customs of his own time, he will be held to have behaved with extreme leniency in pardoning and employing the officers who had served his enemies.

Li Yuan, having accepted “the solution of all his doubts”, soon abandoned all power to his remaining son. Shih-Min was at first appointed crown prince with plenary authority over all affairs civil and military, which he decided before showing them to the emperor. But Li Yuan had no longer any desire even for this shadow of power. Two months after the events at the Hsuan Wu gate, he abdicated in favour of Shih-Min, who now at the age of twenty-six obtained the full and just reward of his arduous campaigns and far­sighted courage.

INTERLUDE.

THE CHARACTER OF LI SHIH-MIN