CHAPTER VII.

THE CONQUEST OF THE TURKS.

AD 624-630

When Li Shih-Min ascended the throne die most pressing problem confronting the Tang empire was the defence of the northern frontiers against the inroads of the Turks. For nearly four thousand years (until in the nineteenth century the rapid decline of die nomad races finally removed the danger), the major, almost the sole, problem of Chinese foreign policy was this Mongolian question. What relationship could be established between the civilised, agricultural people of China and the wandering nomad herdsmen who roamed the vast steppes of Mongolia and northern Central Asia? The problem, in a slightly different form, preoccupied the Roman emperors. It is not unlike that which, at the present day on the North-West Frontier, requires the constant attention of the British rulers of India: the terms on which a civilised and peaceful empire can maintain a common frontier with restless and warlike barbarians.

As in Rome and India, so too in China, there have been three policies, which, with varying success, were adopted in different ages. The “forward” policy, to apply the terms current in India, was first put into effect by the great conquering emperors of the Han dynasty (206 bc-ad 220). It was based on the assumption that the nomad races could never be good neighbours to China, and that therefore the only solution was to conquer and incorporate their territory in the empire, and drive the nomads into the wastes of Siberia, where they could never menace the frontiers of China.

Later dynasties adopted what Indian administrators call the “half-forward” policy. In China this plan sought to break up the great tribes by intrigue or limited campaigns, and set up a fringe of tributary “tame” hordes to act as a breakwater against the wild tribes beyond.

Finally there was the policy of pure defence, which was expressed in that stupendous monument, the 1400-mile-long Great Wall of China. The Wall has often been derided by unthinking critics as a proof of Chinese incompetence in military matters. These critics might reflect that the Romans, surely a military nation, also built walls in Britain and south Germany. Moreover the Wall, though never intended, as many people suppose, to be in itself a complete defence against nomad incursions, was very effective as a check. Built, with superb disregard of difficulties, along the very crest of precipitous mountains, it formed a barrier which was nearly impassable to raiding cavalry. A Tartar force, which had surprised some unguarded section, had either to breach the Wall, no light task, or haul its horses over this formidable obstruction. When returning from their foray laden with booty, and cumbered with herds of captured animals, the raiders could scarcely hope to pass the barrier except at some gate, where a Chinese garrison would be waiting for them.

When the Wall was guarded it proved a perfectly adequate defence. The objection to this purely defensive policy, of which the Wall was the symbol and chief instrument, was the cost. To guard the 1400 miles of Wall with an adequate force involved maintaining a standing army not less numerous than would be required to conquer inner Mongolia, and make the Gobi Desert, a true frontier, the limit of the empire. The cost of defending the Wall was therefore the best argument for the “half-forward” policy. To the full “forward” policy there were strong objections. Outer Mongolia is a boundless country, inaccessible, largely barren desert, far removed from the frontiers of China. The con­quest of this wilderness, itself an undertaking, might ensure the permanent or at least prolonged disappearance of the nomad danger, but it could only be achieved by a vast expenditure of money and lives, and only maintained by garrisoning the distant wilderness with large Chinese forces. The conquest in itself added no useful province to the Chinese empire, and produced no revenue to repay the expense.

Li Shih-Min adopted the “half-forward” policy, which aimed to secure the frontier by conquering all the country south of the Gobi Desert, and so guarantee a lasting peace at a cost which would not beggar the treasury. Even this limited objective seems a gigantic undertaking when the nature of the task is examined. Inner Mongolia was then dominated by the Turks, ancestors of the race which some centuries later invaded the Byzantine empire. These nomads and their predecessors had been undisputed masters of the lands beyond the Wall for nearly four centuries. Not since the foil of the Han dynasty had any Chinese ruler thought of advancing his frontier to the Gobi; indeed the nomad hordes had for many years been free to conquer and invade the northern provinces of China. A Chinese counter-invasion of the Mongolian steppe was regarded as impossible.

The Tartars were formidable foes. Relying entirely on their cavalry and bowmen, they employed exactly the same tactics as, according to Herodotus, their kin the Scythians of the Russian steppe used against Darius of Persia a thousand years before. Rarely could they be induced to stand and fight; instead, riding round their enemies on their fleet horses, they harassed them with showers of arrows, dispersing if charged, only to reform the moment the pursuit slackened. They had no cities which could be captured, no base except a temporary encampment in the boundless grass-lands of the north. They were only vulnerable in one respect. They relied upon their flocks and herds for sustenance and upon the rate streams and wells for water. Experienced Chinese generals fighting the nomads always sought to capture the flocks rather than defeat the enemy in battle, and to occupy the wells rather than pursue the elusive foe across the steppes.

The regular Chinese army, usually equally composed o cavalry and infantry, was not of great use in this peculiar warfare. The tactics which could be used against other Chinese armies, or against such nations as the Koreans, was useless in the steppe. Shih-Min on these campaigns used heavy armed cavalry combining something of the Turkish mobility with the protective armour of the infantry soldier. But the chief aid to the Chinese arms was the incoherence of the Turkish tribal system, which offered their enemies many opportunities of stirring up dissensions and enmity between the different hordes.

In the early seventh century the Tartar peoples along the Chinese frontier were divided into three main groups. The eastern Turks occupied the country on both sides of the Gobi Desert, from Manchuria to the western extremity of the Chinese frontier. The western Turks were settled in the region of Central Asia north of the Tien Shan mountains; lastly the Tu-yu-hun had migrated from the east to the mountain region of Koko-Nor or Ching Hai lying northeast of Tibet, beyond the western frontier of the Chinese province of Kansu. The western Turks were remote from the border of the Tang empire, and their relations with China did not constitute a problem during the reign of Shih-Min. The eastern Turks were the principal enemies of the Chinese empire. They were divided into fifteen hordes, all of which acknowledged the suzerainty of the Great Khan, who maintained a sort of central organisation, and appointed or confirmed the lesser khans.

Ever since Yang Ti’s attempt to foment dissension among the tribes, the Turkish rulers had been hostile to China. As has already been related in chap. 2, Sibir Khan had assisted the Tang revolt, until, after the fill of Chang An, he feared that the new dynasty was growing too strong. Then he changed about, conferring his favour upon their enemies. Liu Wu-Chou and Liang Shih-Tu received Turkish assistance; a fugitive Sui prince was acknowledged as emperor by the Turks, who gave him as subjects all those Chinese who, whether for their crimes, or to seek peace, had fled beyond the Wall.

Nor had Turkish hostility to the Tang dynasty been confined to aiding the rival pretenders. In A.D. 619 Sibir Khan entered Shansi at the head of his entire horde, with the apparent intention of founding a Turkish dynasty in north China. His death on the march dissipated the danger, for his brother and successor, Chur Khan, was not so bold. Chur died in a.d. 620, to be succeeded by yet another brother, Qadir Khan, a far more formidable antagonist.

Qadir owed his elevation to the intrigues of the Sui Princess I Cheng. This lady had had a remarkable matrimonial career. Originally wedded to Tutar Khan, she had, on the death of her husband, married his son Sibir, and then successively espoused that khan’s brothers, Chur and lastly Qadir. As long as the Sui dynasty reigned in China she used her influence to keep the Turks friendly, as on the occasion when Yang Ti was besieged in Yen Min, but after the foil of her family she became the inveterate foe of the Tang dynasty, constantly urging her successive husbands to acts of hostility.

From the moment of his accession Qadir manifested his enmity to the Tang empire. He raided the frontier, supported the rebellions of Liu Hei-Ta and Kao Kai-Tao, and at last, in a.d. 622, invaded Shansi at the head of 150,000 horsemen, while another horde crossed the frontier to the west in Kansu. Shih-Min, recently returned from the war against Liu Hei-Ta, was sent to oppose this menace, while another army blocked the passes north-west of modern Peking. The Turks, faced by these preparations, and fearful of an encounter with the famous Shih-Min, fresh from his victory at the Ming river, were not very successful. One division of their army was touted near Fen Chou in Shansi with a loss of 5000 slain, and after this check Qadir was willing to entertain the Tang peace proposals. His disgust with the war was increased when he learned that his western army in Kansu had been repulsed; and his ally, Liang Shih-Tu, had suffered a great defeat at the hands of the Tang general, Prince Jen Cheng, Shih-Min’s cousin (Li Tao-Tsung), Qadir, finding no profit in this invasion, retired to await a better opportunity.

The next year the Tang generals had to contend with an invasion in another quarter. This time it was the Tu-yu-hun who decided that the troubles of the empire were their opportunity. In ad 613 they descended from their mountain strongholds in Koko-Nor to invade Kansu. Chai Shao, husband of the Lady Li, Shih-Min’s heroic sister, was the general in command of the army on this frontier. He took the field against the invaders, but by a mischance found himself almost surrounded upon a mountain, where, since there was no water, it would have been difficult to resist for long. Chai Shao, however, was a general of many, if unorthodox, resources. To one side of the mountain on which he was confined was a small, isolated hill, which it was still possible to approach from the Tang position. The Chinese general sent two singing girls to climb up this hill, where, when they reached the top, they performed curious and obscene dances in full view of the Tartar army. The Tu-yu-hun were completely distracted by this unusual spectacle. While their undisciplined warriors flocked to the little hill to obtain a better view of the proceedings, the cunning Chinese made a sudden descent from the other side of the mountain, and fell upon the inattentive enemy. The unwary Tartars, completely routed, were driven back to their mountains; thereto reflect that it is most unwise, in the midst of battle, to let the mind dwell on the delights of peace.

Qadir Khan did not long abide by the truce which he had made with the Tang empire. In the same year, Ad 623, Shih-Min had to take the field, though he did not need to engage battle; his appearance on the frontier was enough to make the Turks withdraw without risking an engagement. But no sooner had the Tang prince returned to Chang An than the marauders crossed the frontier as frequently as before. In the year ad 624 these incursions became so serious that a party of fainthearts at Chang An advised Li Yuan to abandon the city and fix his capital elsewhere. It was the wealth of Chang An, they declared, that attracted the Turks; if the city was destroyed they would cease raiding.

The proposal, raised in full council, was supported by the crown prince, Chien-Cheng, and Yuan-Chi, never conspicuous for courage in the field; also by Pei Chi, whose disastrous experiences when he commands against Liu Wu-Chou had given him a mortal fear of the Turks. Hsiao Yu was not in favour, but always rather a timid character, he did not voice his opinion, The emperor, who invariably accepted any strongly urged advice, had already sent Yu-Wen Shih-Chi to choose a new site south of the Nan Shan mountains, when Shih-Min once more raised the question and voiced his opposition in a vehement speech. “Down from the most ancient antiquity we have always had to contend with the northern savages”, he said, “but Your Majesty has recently arisen like a dragon to re-establish the throne of the empire. Your army exceeds a million picked troops, none of your enemies have been able to withstand it. If now, merely because the barbarians raid the borders, you burn down your capital and seek safety elsewhere, it will be regarded as a national disgrace which will be the derision of future generations. In the time of the Han dynasty the general Huo Chu-Ping was prepared to face the power of the Huns (Hsiung-Nu) and even I, although unworthy, having some experience of war, will undertake to reduce Qadir Khan to obedience. Should the enterprise fail, there will still be time to change the capital.”

Li Yuan, won over by this speech, thought no more of abandoning Chan An. Instead he gave Shih-Min command of the army which was sent to oppose the Turks. Yuan-Chi was sent with him to gain experience. The Tang army met the full strength of the Turks under the two khans, Qadir and Tutar, at Pin Chou, on the border of Shensi and Kansu, only seventy miles north-west of Chang An. Tutar Khan, Sibir’s son, had been passed over in the succession in favour of Qadir. For this reason Qadir was somewhat suspicious of his nephew’s loyalty, the more so as Tutar had in former years been very friendly with Shih-Min during his boyhood in Shansi.

Shih-Min, who had gained an intimate knowledge of Turkish customs in peace and war during those years, was now afraid that the Turks would avoid battle, and so postpone any decision. The Tang prince therefore decided to work on Qadir’s suspicious and jealousy. He proposed to Yuan-Chi that they should challenge the two khans to single combat, though it is likely that he made this suggestion rather to expose his brother’s faintheartedness than as a serious plan. Yuan-Chi had no stomach for such a risk, and declined. Shih-Min then rode out alone towards the Turkish army, and challenged Qadir to fight it out. The khan smiled, but refused to accept, not knowing Shih-Min’s real intentions. The prince then sent a herald to Tutar’s horde to ask that khan why he had forgotten his former friendship, and an oath of mutual assistance which they had once exchanged. Tutar, afraid that Qadir would suspect him of disloyalty, did not reply.

Shih-Min then tried a piece of bluff. He rode forward quite alone, and started to cross the small stream which divided his army from Tutar’s horde. Qadir, noting this seeming confidence in Tutar’s friendship, immediately suspected that there was treachery afoot, especially as from his position he had heard something of the conversation about old friendship and the oath of assistance. He sent a message to request Shih-Min not to cross the brook, adding that he was willing to main peace, and in proof of sincerity would withdraw his troops a short distance. His real motive for this movement was the fear that Tatar and Shih-Min had made a secret agreement to attack him by surprise.

Shih-Min, finding that his plan was working well, and the seeds of dissension between the khans were already bearing fruit, withdrew to his own camp. That same night, the weather being very wet, he pointed out to his officers that the rain would have unstrung the Tartar bows, the only weapon with which they were formidable. After sending a warning to Tutar not to fear for his horde, Shih-Min made a sudden night attack upon Qadir’s camp. The Turks, surprised, and unable to use their bows, were put to flight. Qadir, now convinced that Tutar was in league with the Tang court, retreated to Mongolia, as did Tutar, who for his part was quite willing to make a lasting peace with the Chinese empire.

Although this formidable invasion was dissipated by Shih-Min’s guileful tactics, the Turks did not give up raiding the border, continuing this war of forays all through the year ad 62 Shih-Min passed part of that year in Shansi, but had no opportunity to come to grips with an enemy who carefully avoided battle. In the west, Prince Jen Cheng indicted a serious defeat on one horde, which gave Shensi peace for a season.

The crisis at the Tang court in the summer of ad 626 was interpreted by the Turks as a fresh opportunity for an invasion on the grand scale. As soon as Qadir heard that the crown prince and Yuan-Chi were dead, and Shih-Min had ascended the throne, he swept down into Shensi at the head of 100,000 horsemen. Although part of this army was defeated by Yu-Chi Ching-Te twenty-three miles north of Chang An, Qadir himself pushed on till he encamped on the north bank of the Wei river, opposite the Imperial Park, only ten miles from the capital. There he sent ambassadors into the city to “observe the strength and emptiness of the land”; expecting that Shih-Min, who had not yet been two months on the throne, would be too uncertain of his position to oppose him.

He was very much mistaken. The new emperor, after listening to the boasts of the Turkish herald, calmly replied, “Your khan has often pretended friendship, and I have sent him presents. But now he has dared to invade the heart of my domains, although he has no cause for a quarrel with me. Although you ate only savages, you should have the hearts of men, but yet, forgetting my kindness you come here boasting of your strength. First of all I shall cut off your head”.

This speech made a painful impression on the Turkish herald, whose braggart manner swiftly changed to cringing terror. Shih-Min did not carry out his threat; instead the Turk was confined in a prison as an example to his compatriots.

The next day the young emperor rode out to the bridge over the Wei river, apposite Qadir Khan’s camp. Attended by only six officers, among whom were Kao Shih-Lien and Fang Hsuan-Ling, Shih-Min came up to the bank, and called for a parley with Qadir. The Turks, greatly surprised at this bold manner, which they supposed must be due to the presence of powerful Chinese forces in the neighbourhood, were so impressed by the appearance of the famous Chinese conqueror, that all dismounted and made obeisance. The emperor’s advisers tried to prevent him going near the Turks, fearing treachery, but Shih-Min paid no attention to them, answering, “I know them of old, you do not, They only dared to come so far because they thought we had internal troubles, and that I, being newly seated on the throne, would be unable to oppose them. If I now show fear, dose the gates of the city, and remain inactive, they will plunder the countryside without restraint. But if I ride out alone as if despising them, with the army drawn up behind me ready for battle, they will be afraid to fight so far from their home. You stay here and watch”.

As Shih-Min had foreseen, Qadir Khan was not anxious to give battle to so formidable an opponent when far from his native steppes. Before the day was out he sent an ambassador to treat for peace. The next day the emperor rode out again, met Qadir at the Wei bridge, and concluded a treaty of peace, which was sealed in Turkish custom by sacrificing a white horse. The Turks then withdrew from China, and this time the peace was carefully observed. The power of the Turks had only been formidable to a weak and distracted China, divided between warring rivals. When the reunited empire was under the rule of an able emperor such as Shih-Min, the Turkish danger was seen to be comparatively insignificant. From the day of foe treaty at foe Wei bridge foe balance of power between the two races tilted in favour of the Chinese, thee initiative passed from the Turks to China, and foe nomads, divided by internal feuds, were henceforward on the defensive.

The winter of ad 627, the year following foe treaty, was extremely severe in Mongolia. The great depth of snow which covered foe ground for an unusual length of time made it very difficult to feed foe flocks upon which the Turks depended for food. Famine, aided by foe excessive cold, swept away thousands of the unfortunate nomads, who had no resources of grain to fall back upon. As might be expected the Turks, suffering from such a catastrophe, blamed their rulers, and in particular Qadir Khan, whose arbitrary rule and preference for Central Asiatic advisers was keenly resented by the nomad chiefs. His conduct was held to be the cause of the national misfortunes, for the Turks, like the Chinese, believed that famine and inclement weather were a sign of heaven’s displeasure with the rulers of the earth. Qadir Khan, instead of conciliating foe tribes by reducing or suspending the tribute they paid to him, increased his exactions to make up for the general loss of revenue, and so brought the unrest to a head.

The Chinese court was informed of these troubles, but though one party urged the emperor to seize this opportunity to exterminate the Turks, Shih-Min refused to break the treaty. Meanwhile the disaffected tribes had broken into open revolt. These tribes were mostly those north of the Gobi, living along the mountains which now separate Siberia from outer Mongolia. The leagued tribes—Sarinda, Uigurs and Bayirqus—completely defeated the army which Qadir sent against them, indeed the khan was forced to move nearer to the Wall to escape their reprisals. Meanwhile the bad weather still continued and the famine in Mongolia became more acute.

The war party at Chang An made another attempt to persuade Shih-Min to attack the hereditary enemy while he was disabled by so many calamities. Shih-Min was a man of his word, and moreover realised that the high prestige of the Chinese court could only be established by a literal fulfilment of all treaties. He replied to these promptings, “To break an oath is treachery, to profit by the distress of others is unrighteous, to triumph over the weakness of an enemy is unchivalrous. Only after they have done me an injury will I be free to make war on them”.

Qadir Khan would have been well advised to observe the same good faith, but the rash Turk could not appreciate the wisdom of honesty. When the western Turks sent an embassy to Chang An to obtain a Chinese princess for their khan, country, Qadir prevented the ambassadors from crossing his  country, and warned them that any gesture of friendship to China would be regarded as an act of hostility to himself.

The next year, 628, was even more disastrous for Qadir Khan. His nephew Tatar Khan, who had been sent against the rebel hordes, was totally defeated by them, only escaping, almost alone, by the speed of his horse. Qadir, furious at this misfortune, treated Tatar with great severity, having him flogged and imprisoned. Tutar, who had always been friendly to Shih-Min, so much resented this treatment that he sent secret messages to Chang An, begging the emperor to send him assistance, and deliver the Turks from Qadir’s rule. Shih-Min might have left these appeals unanswered had not Qadir himself had the folly to provoke the Tang anger by breaking the treaty of the Wei bridge.

Liang Shih-Tu, the last Chinese pretender, still held out in the country north of the Great Wall, in the “loop” of the Yellow river. This pretender, being Chinese, was not included in the peace sworn at the Wei bridge, although he had been an ally and vassal of the Turkish khan. Shih-Min, consider­ing himself free to attack this rival, sent Chai Shao, his brother-in-law, to reduce the rebel. Qadir Khan, at the appeal of Liang Shih-Tu, sent a Turkish force to oppose the Tang army. This army was defeated by Chai Shao, who then invested Liang Shih-Tu’s capital, where, after a few days of siege, the pretender was murdered by a relative, who surrendered the city to the Tang general. Qadir Khan had thus brought upon himself the just hostility of the Tang empire without being able to render any effective assistance to his old ally and vassal.

The consequences of this folly were soon made plain to him. The rebel hordes—Sarinda, Uigurs, and Bayirqus—had elected a new paramount chief, Bilga Khan, as a rival to Qadir. This pretender was now recognised by the court as legitimate Great Khan. The emperor sent an embassy by devious routes, which invested Bilga with the in­signia of his new rank, for which the Tang emperor received in return an acknowledgment of his suzerainty. The “half-forward” policy of creating dissensions among the tribes and setting up a group of friendly vassals was thus inaugurated.

Qadir Khan, though greatly alarmed at the progress of his rival, and the favour which Shih-Min now openly bestowed upon Bilga, did not for that seek a reconciliation with Chang An. Instead, he resorted to the old plan of raiding the frontiers. These hostile acts only served to involve him in the calamity which his faithless conduct had invited. In ad 629 Shih-Min decided that, as Qadir had first broken the Wei bridge treaty and then committed other hostile acts, the oath was no longer binding, and he was free to make war and settle the Turkish problem to his liking.

Li Shih-Chi was appointed to the supreme command of an army of 100,000 picked troops, subordinate commands being held by such well-tried generals as Li Ching, Prince Jen Cheng (Li Tao-Tsung) and Chai Shao. The very rumour of these preparations induced a number of minor khans, discontented with Qadir, to send in their submission. Among these was Tutar, who came down to Chang An to swear allegiance. Nevertheless Qadir seems to have been taken by surprise when he heard that one Tang army under Li Ching, which had passed the Wall at Ma I, had surprised and captured the town of Ting Hsiang, which had apparently been in Turkish hands since the fall of the Sui dynasty.

The news that a Chinese army had passed the Wall, and was, for the first time in centuries, invading the Mongolian steppe, made such an impression on Qadir’s followers that one of his officers seized the Empress Hsiao, and the Sui prince whom Sibir had set up to rule the Chinese fugitives, and delivered these important captives to the Tang army. They were brought to Chang An, where Shih-Min allowed them to live in peaceful obscurity, since a Sui restoration was no longer a possibility. The Empress Hsiao, after a life of amazing vicissitudes, which had included the luxury of Yang Ti’s splendid court, the night of horror at Yang Chou, the misery of captivity in Yu-Wen Hua-Chi’s mutinous camp, and years of exile in aTurkish encampment, was now at last to spend many quiet years in the city where once she had reigned as empress, till her death in 648.

Li Shih-Chi entered Mongolia to the east, near Ta Tung Fu, and came up with a Turkish force at a place near the modem Kuei Hua Ching. The Chinese were victorious, Qadir Khan retreating with only 40,000 horsemen to Tieh Shan, the Iron Hills, a place north of the main chain of the Yin Shan mountains. From this retreat the wily Turk sent an ambassador to China begging for peace, and offering, as proof of sincerity, to come down to Chang An in person. The emperor sent an ambassador to conduct negotiations, at the same time ordering the army to continue the pursuit. Shih-Min knew the Turk too well to trust his promises.

Qadir Khan, in fact, had no intention of submitting. His object in opening negotiations was to delay the Chinese advance until the spring grass had come up, when the horses, fattened on the new pasture, would be strong enough to cross the Gobi Desert, as it was his plan to take refuge in the northern solitudes, far beyond the reach of Chines armies. Li Ching and Li Shih-Chi were not deceived by the Turkish bluff: realising that once the khan had got across the Gobi he would be beyond the reach of pursuit, they planned a surprise attack. Li Ching took twenty days’ provisions and made a forced march on the Turkish camp.

The ambassador sent by the emperor to treat with Qadir had already reached the khan; who, delighted with the success of his diplomacy, believed himself safe from all pursuit until the spring, when his horses would be strong enough to make the desert crossing. The Chinese attack, aided by a fog, thus came as a complete surprise. Qadir himself had just time to escape on a fleet horse, but his horde was utterly defeated. Ten thousand Turks were slain, 100,000 persons of both sexes taken captive; while a still more terrible loss to the nomads was the capture of countless numbers of cattle, horses, and camels—the herds upon which the Turks depended for subsistence. Among those killed in the rout was Qadir’s famous Chinese wife, the Sui princess, I Ching, who had been the most persistent enemy of the Tang dynasty.

The khan lied with a remnant of 10,000 men in a vain attempt to cross the desert, only to find that Li Shih-Chi, advancing by another route, had forestalled him and was lying in waiting at Chi Kou, the “Mouth of the Desert”. There the Turkish power was finally dispersed. While many surrendered, and others were taken prisoners, the khan once more escaped, with a handful of attendants, flying to the west in the hope of reaching the country of the Tu-yu-hun. But this hope was doomed to fail.  Prince Jen Cheng (Li Tao-Tsung), detached by Li Shih-Chi in pursuit, relentlessly followed the fleeing khan till he was captured, and brought back to China a prisoner.

By this victorious campaign the whole of inner Mongolia up to the edge of the Gobi Desert was made subject to the emperor, and the Turkish tribes which inhabited it became the vassals of the Chinese throne. The emperor, at the suggestion of the submitted khans, assumed the title of “Heavenly Khan”, a sort of Turkish equivalent of the Chinese imperial title. To keep the newly submitted hordes in order, two great garrisons were established, the one at Ling Chou, on the Kansu border, and the other in the east at Kuei Hua Cheng. The broken hordes were left under the administration their own khans, now ruling as Chinese officers. Of these khans Tutar was the most notable, and Ahin Ssu-Ma, who had been Qadir’s most faithful lieutenant. Apart from Bilga Khan, ruler of the Sarinda beyond the Gobi, there now remained no independent tribe along the whole length of the Chinese northern border. Shih-Min’s “half-forward” policy had thus been crowned with complete success, though only four years had passed since the Turkish hordes had encamped upon the Wei,  within ten miles of the Chinese capital. This achievement, due as much to the wise preparations of the emperor as to the drill of his generals, was hailed with universal joy and wonder in Chang An.

Li Yuan, who now rarely emerged from his retirement, gave a banquet to his son the emperor and the entire court. The aged monarch observing the festivity, remarked with a sigh, “Even Han Kao Tsu (founder of the Han dynasty) could not avenge the insults of the Huns, now here is my son, who in a few months has overthrown the power of the Turks!” Li Yuan himself honoured the feast by playing the lute while Shih-Min danced, and the revelry did not cease till morning.

When Qadir Khan, a prisoner who had lost everything, was brought down to Chang An, the emperor received him, seated on a high throne, surrounded by the foil panoply of the imperial court Shih-Min, having solemnly listed the fallen khan’s crimes and follies and obtained a public confession of guilt from Qadir, spared his life, giving him a minor post in the imperial stables. But the wild spirit of the Tartar sickened in this captivity. He died within a few years, pining away in the alien atmosphere of civilisation.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE COURT OF CHANG AN

AD 630-640