Emperor Wu’s Lavish Entertainment For Foreign Envoys

Emperor Wu (r. 141-87 BCE), like any powerful emperor, wanted to receive deference and respect from the weaker realms that neighbored his empire. One of the main ways that he spread his influence was through the use of his military might, which he used to expand his empire in all directions throughout the course of his reign. Yet, military might was not the only way he tried to impress and awe his neighbors—he also attempted to win over foreign dignitaries by entertaining them with feasts and spectacles that showed off the extravagant wealth and resources of his empire.

Sima Qian, Grand Historian and palace secretary of Emperor Wu, recorded for posterity a list of various ways that the emperor tried to use luxury and opulence to make visitors to his realm feel awe and reverence for the Han Empire. First of all, the emperor reportedly housed foreign visitors in grand and gorgeous lodgings. The dignitaries, however, did not stay in one place, as the emperor apparently liked to send the foreign envoys on tours of China’s greatest cities. When the foreigners were given time to rest in one place, the emperor smothered them with magnificent banquets and exotic shows.

In describing Emperor Wu’s feasts, Grand Historian Sima Qian wrote, “He entertained the foreign visitors with veritable lakes of wine and forests of meat and had them shown around to the various granaries and storehouses to see how much wealth was laid away there, astounding and overwhelming them with the breadth and greatness of the Han empire” (Shi Ji 123). As for non-edible entertainment, the emperor did not spare any expense. Showmen and exotic animals were brought in from all over the empire to impress the foreign visitors. Sima Qian wrote:

 “He would hold great wrestling matches and displays of unusual skills and all sorts of rare creatures, gathering together large numbers of people to watch…After the skills of the foreign magicians and tricksters had been imported into China, the wrestling matches and displays of unusual feats developed and improved with each year, and from this time on entertainment of this type became increasingly popular” (Shi Ji 123).

If all of the above was not enough to impress foreign envoys, the emperor still had a few options at his disposal. One such method was for the emperor to simply give the diplomats a parting gift of silks and money before they returned to their homelands.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Image of the Dahuting Tomb mural, c. 2nd-3rd century CE, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.

The Vast Vineyards Of Emperor Wu

Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty (r.  141-87 BCE) expanded his empire in all directions. He started attacking the nomadic Xiongnu coalition to his north around 134 BCE. In the south, the Chinese-Vietnamese borderlands of Southern Yue fell to Han forces between 112-111 BCE, and the emperor followed that up by conquering the North Korean kingdom of Chaoxian between 109-108 BCE. While these conquests were occurring, Emperor Wu had been sending explorers and diplomatic missions westward as far as the region now known as Uzbekistan. A primary task of these envoys was to find and obtain horses, for the horse population in China had suffered catastrophically as a result of Emperor Wu’s campaigns against the Xiongnu. As the envoys began cultivating relationships with the different states and rulers of Central Asia, other goods from the region besides horses began to catch their interest. When the envoys returned to China, they were accompanied by representatives of the foreign Central Asian rulers, and samples of goods from the west were brought before the emperor. Curiously, Emperor Wu was quite impressed by two crops in particular—grapes and alfalfa.

From 104 BCE to 101/100 BCE, Emperor Wu sent his military to campaign against the cities in Central Asia, leading to the conquest or subjugation of states up to the Ferghana Valley. As a result, the emperor gained access to new herds of horses. He was particularly intrigued with a type of horse afflicted with a parasite that made the animal appear to sweat blood. While Han forces rounded up Central Asian land and horses, the emperor had another project in the works on his estates in China—systematically planting crops from the west around his palaces. According to Grand Historian Sima Qian, “when the Han acquired large numbers of the ‘heavenly horses’ and the envoys from foreign states began to arrive with their retinues, the lands on all sides of the emperor’s summer palaces and pleasure towers were planted with grapes and alfalfa for as far as the eye could see” (Shi Ji 123). Emperor Wu apparently used his vineyards for wine experimentation, while the grassy fields were used to supply fodder for his stables. The aforementioned Sima Qian mused, “The people love their wine and the horses love their alfalfa” (Shi Ji 123).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Chinese landscape labeled Walters 35101K, purchased by Henry Walters in 1915, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.

 

Lü Jia And His Futile Efforts To Save His Homeland Of Southern Yue

The final decade of the 3rd century BCE and the first decade of the 2nd century BCE were times of heavy state building in Asia. China’s Qin Dynasty collapsed because of widespread revolt between 209 and 206 BCE. The warlords who toppled the Qin regime subsequently fought against each other in a free-for-all. Emperor Gaozu emerged victorious from this power struggle in 202 BCE, declaring the supremacy of the new Han Dynasty. As a new emperor of a fledgling dynasty, Gaozu had an inwardly-focused reign in which he was much more concerned about enforcing his authority on his subjects than on launching campaigns to expand the empire outside of the Chinese heartland. Emperor Gaozu’s philosophy was shared by his immediate successors, a trend which gave China’s neighbors a few precious decades of peace in which to thrive. To the north and west of Gaozu’s lands, the Xiongnu nomads greatly expanded their influence under the leadership of Shanyu Maodun (ruled approximately from 209-174 BCE). Northeast of the Han empire, the warlord Wei Man created a kingdom for himself in northern Korea, beginning his rise to power around 195 BCE. Finally, in the south, a former official of the Qin Dynasty by the name of Zhao Tuo united the China-Vietnam borderlands into the kingdom or empire of Southern Yue, also known as Nanyue.

Zhao Tuo reportedly ruled Southern Yue for a remarkable period of about seventy years, approximately from 209/206-137 BCE. During his successful reign, he developed a state policy of calculated deference and flattery to keep the Chinese emperors both happy and unimposing. Among his favorite moves in his foreign relations playbook were delay tactics, the skillful ability to negotiate any Han offer of vassalage into a non-aggression pact, and a strict code of never, ever, visiting Han territory in person.  Unfortunately, Zhao Tuo’s diplomatic mastery would be made all the more apparent by just how quickly his realm fell apart after his death.

Zhao Tuo’s successors in Southern Yue attempted to continue their predecessor’s model of foreign policy, but the new rulers could not keep up the precarious balance of independence and deference as effectively as Zhao Tuo had done. King Zhao Mo of Southern Yue (r. 137-122) sent his son and successor, Zhao Yingqi (r. 122-113), to the Han capital of Chang’an, where Yingqi met and married a Chinese princess. When Zhao Yingqi’s father grew ill around 122 BCE, he successfully broke free of the Han court and returned to Southern Yue. He brought his Chinese bride with him, and they eventually had a son named Xing.

Despite Zhao Yingqi’s close ties to China, once he assumed the throne in 122 BCE, he quickly assumed the model of foreign policy laid out by his predecessors and cut off any further personal contact with the Han government. The new king’s continuance of the difficult balancing act of independence and deference came as a great relief to an official named Lü Jia—he was a member of the Southern Yue old guard who had likely first come to prominence at the end of Zhao Tuo’s reign. Lü Jia went on to become prime minister for Zhao Mo and Zhao Yingqi, and his family became one of the most well-connected clans in Southern Yue through marriage contracts and powerful friendships. With Lü Jia as his advisor, Zhao Yingqi was able to maintain Southern Yue’s record of deferring just enough to China to stay safe from invasion, while also retaining enough independence to remain a sovereign state. Zhao Yingqi’s past would come back to haunt the state, however, when he died unexpectedly around 113 BCE. He was succeeded by his young son, Zhao Xing, and, as the boy was still a child, it was the king’s Chinese mother who became the realm’s main advisor. Lü Jia, for his part, was reappointed as Prime Minister of Southern Yue and he immediately set about trying to counteract the queen dowager’s pro-Han influence.

In an epic tug-of-war, with the king of Southern Yue in the middle, the queen dowager and Prime Minister Lü Jia battled for influence over the ruler, with the former wanting to bring her son closer into Han imperial circles, while Lü Jia was pressing for the status quo of carefully maintained independence. Naturally, young Zhao Xing was swayed more by his mother than by the old minister. Yet, Lü Jia remained a persuasive and influential individual, and although the queen dowager had the advantage at that time, the whims of rulers can easily shift. Therefore, the queen dowager and her pro-Han allies deemed Lü Jia to be a threat that needed to be handled as quickly as possible. With this in mind, the queen dowager invited Lü Jia to attend a banquet with her and some Han diplomats. Instead of discussing diplomacy, the pro-Han individuals at the banquet tried (unsuccessfully) to assassinate the prime minister. The queen dowager, herself, was said to have personally tried to take a stab at the minister during the chaotic party. Despite the queen dowager’s best efforts, Lü Jia had suspected a trap from the beginning and managed to escape the banquet without suffering any significant injuries. After this attempt on his life, the prime minister abandoned his hopes of winning over the king and instead called together his long list of pro-independence kinsmen, friends and allies to plot a revolt against the queen dowager and her puppet king.

When the queen dowager learned of the prime minister’s intrigues, she reached out to Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty (r. 141-87 BCE) for assistance. The emperor, not yet committing to a full invasion of Southern Yue, responded to her plea by sending a small band of 2,000 warriors to support the queen dowager. When this force crossed into Southern Yue, Lü Jia used the inflammatory occasion as an opportunity to launch his rebellion. Moving quickly, the rebels attacked the palace, executed the queen dowager, deposed King Zhao Xing, and replaced him with Zhao Jiande, a pro-independence member of the royal family. After completing this regime change, Lü Jia’s army then turned against the 2,000 approaching Han warriors and massacred them on the road in a successful ambush.

Unfortunately for Lü Jia, the rebellion he launched in hopes of saving Southern Yue from Han influence instead proved to be the beginning of the end for the realm’s independence. When Emperor Wu had received a request for help from the late queen dowager, he had only sent 2,000 warriors. Yet, once the emperor subsequently learned that these troops had been massacred, he took the attack personally and decided to send the full weight of the Han military against Southern Yue. In 112 BCE, Emperor Wu sent multiple armies on a multi-pronged campaign to avenge the deaths of the 2,000. By 111 BCE, Southern Yue was conquered, its capital city was burned, and Lü Jia and Zhao Jiande were captured.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Photographed Longzhong Plan pattern painted at Long Corridor of Summer Palace, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.
• http://www.chinaknowledge.de/History/Altera/yue.html  

The Folkloric Origin Tale Of Kunmo Liejiaomi

The Wusun were one of several nomadic or semi-nomadic peoples in Asia who were literally pushed around by a powerful nomadic confederation known as the Xiongnu. Shanyu Maodun, leader of the Xiongnu from approximately 209 and 174 BCE, was said to have indirectly caused chaos for the Wusun people by driving a group known as the Yuezhi into Wusun territory near the end of his reign. The then khan, or kunmo, of the Wusun was reportedly named Nandoumi, and he fought back against the Yuezhi incursion into his land. Nandoumi, however, died in battle and the Wusun people had to flee to the Xiongnu for protection. During the retreat, possibly due to politics after the kunmo’s death, Nandoumi’s young son, Liejiaomi, was reportedly left behind to face the wild alone.

Yet—as folkloric origin stories of kingly or heroic figures often go—mother nature and her animals took pity of young Liejiaomi and cared for the abandoned boy during this vulnerable time. Grand Historian Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), citing an explorer who interacted with the Wusun, wrote that Liejiaomi, “then only a baby, was cast out in the wilderness to die. But the birds came and flew over the place where he was, bearing meat in their beaks, and the wolves suckled him, so that he was able to survive” (Shi Ji 123). Living on bird regurgitation and wolf milk, Liejiaomi stayed alive long enough to be rediscovered by the Xiongnu, who were impressed by his survival skills. By this time Shanyu Jizhu was reportedly in power, a position he would have over the Xiongnu from around 174 to 159/158 BCE. As the stories go, Jizhu gave shelter to Liejiaomi and took interest in raising the boy, encouraging his education in the ways of leadership and war.

When Liejiaomi grew to adulthood, he was given a military command and eventually was supported by the shanyu in becoming the next kunmo of the Wusun. In conjunction with the Xiongnu, Kunmo Liejiaomi was able to have his revenge against the Yuezhi, pushing them westward toward the region of modern Uzbekistan, allowing for the Wusun to claim the vacated land left by the Yuezhi. Despite this partnership, Kunmo Liejaomi and the Wusun would eventually be recruited by the expansionist Emperor Wu of Han China (r. 141-87 BCE) to combat the Xiongnu.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Painting from the Xiongnu exhibit in Henan Provincial Museum, Zhengzhou, photographed by Gary Todd for worldhistorypics.com, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.
• http://www.chinaknowledge.de/History/Altera/wusun.html  

The Opportunistic Ascendance Of Wei Man In Korean Chaoxian

Prior to the ascendance of the Qin Dynasty (221-206 BCE) over the kingdoms of ancient China, the Chinese Kingdom of Yan had spread its influence past the Yalu River into the Korean Peninsula. When King Zheng of Qin (the eventual First Emperor) captured King Xi of Yan in 222 BCE, the Korean holdings of Yan were absorbed by the growing Qin Empire. The Qin Dynasty, however, did not enjoy supremacy in China for long—massive rebellions broke out in 209 BCE, toppling the Qin emperors by 206 BCE. Civil war then broke out between the successful rebellion leaders, and from the ashes came Emperor Gaozu, who killed or subjugated all of his rival warlords by 202 BCE and founded the Han Dynasty. Emperor Gaozu appointed his childhood friend, Lu Wan, as a vassal king of Yan, including control of Yan’s Korean territory. Lu Wan abandoned his kingdom, however, and defected to the nomadic Xiongnu in 195 BCE, leaving a power vacuum in Yan, especially on the Korean frontier. It was then that a mysterious figure named Wei Man (or Wiman) made his bid for power in the unclaimed Korean lands formerly held by the Kingdom of Yan.

Little is known about the origins of Wei Man. He appears to have been a man of wealth and influence in the Yan-Korean region, but we have no knowledge about how he lived before 195 BCE. Whatever the case, he reportedly had the means and charisma to raise a personal army of over 1,000 men in the aftermath of Lu Wan’s defection, and he used this force to begin taking control of the communities of Northern Korea. Knowing that he would not be able to maintain control with a small garrison of 1,000 men, Wei Man actively assimilated himself into the culture of the natives he wished to rule. He stylized his hair and his wardrobe to make himself more palatable to the Korean population, and apparently succeeded in winning over Koreans to join his army and to support his regime. To further add to his numbers, Wei Man made an effort to recruit refugees who fled from the Han Dynasty. With this coalition of his personal army, Chinese refugees, and native supporters, Wei Man gained control of a sizable chunk of northern Korea, and eventually set up his base of operations at Wangxian (modern Pyongyang). With land and power consolidated under his rule, Wei Man declared himself King of Chaoxian (or Chosŏn), named after the Chinese designation for the land located east of the Yalu River.

Wei Man’s curious rise to power was noticed by the Han government, especially by the governors of Liaodong Province, who administered Han lands that bordered Chaoxian.  Despite this awareness, the Han authorities decided not to interfere in Wei Man’s power-grab over lands that at one point had been under Chinese imperial control. Fortunately for the upstart king of Chaoxian, the early Han rulers were inwardly-focused and more intent on consolidating and enforcing their authority on the kingdoms in the heartland of their empire, rather than expanding imperial influence into the fringe frontiers or beyond. As a result, Emperor Gaozu and his immediate successors tried to keep foreign wars to a minimum, so that they could spend their time and effort on domestic politics and policy. With this philosophy in mind, the early Han emperors made peace with the Xiongnu nomads, and condoned the existence of upstart kingdoms born on the frontiers of the collapsed Qin Empire, as was the case with both the Kingdom of Southern Yue (in the Vietnam area) and Wei Man’s Kingdom of Chaoxian in Korea. The earliest Han Emperors were content to offer these frontier kingdoms peace in exchange for non-aggression pacts and some diplomatic shows of deference.

With Han recognition of his authority as king of Chaoxian, Wei Man continued to gain power, wealth and territory in Korea. He turned his regime into a hereditary monarchy that would continue to rule the kingdom of Chaoxian independently from Han authority for many more decades. The kingdom, however, would ultimately fall when Chaoxian was invaded and conquered by the expansionist Emperor Wu of Han in a war which took place from 109-108 BCE.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Emperor Kangxi on an inspection tour, painted by Wang Hui (1632–1717), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Wiman  

The Nighttime Sandstorm Maneuver Of Wei Qing In 119 BCE

In the spring of 119 BCE, Emperor Wu (r. 141-87 BCE) of Han Dynasty China sent his greatest duo of military generals—the uncle and nephew pair of Wei Qing and Huo Qubing—to attack the Xiongnu Confederation, a group of nomadic tribes then reportedly led by Shanyu Yizhixie (r. approximately 127/126-114 BCE). At the time, the Xiongnu bases of operation were set up at the north end of the Gobi desert, with a vast arid region acting as a buffer between the persistent nomads and the Han armies. Emperor Wu and the Xiongnu had been hostile since 134 BCE, and were frequently raiding and invading each other over the years. Yet, the Chinese campaign of 119 BCE was meant to be more of a knock-out punch than a mere punitive raid. According to Grand Historian Sima Qian, the emperor raised an enormous “force of 100,000 cavalry, along with 140,000 horses to carry baggage and other equipment (this in addition to the horses provided for transporting provisions)” (Shi Ji 110). This was a huge portion of the Han Empire’s horse population that was being gambled on the mission of 119 BCE. In addition to the horde of horsemen and horses, Emperor Wu also reportedly mustered several hundred thousand infantrymen to accompany the cavalry into battle.

Before the troops left Han territory, the huge Chinese army was split between the personal commands of Wei Qing and Huo Qubing. According to Sima Qian, the cavalry force was equally divided, with each of the two generals receiving 50,000 horsemen. As to the division of the even greater number of infantrymen, Sima Qian was less specific, yet this body of troops was also divided between the two main Chinese leaders in some way. When the forces had been adequately arranged, Wei Qing, the more experienced of the Han military leaders, and general-in-chief of Emperor Wu’s armed forces, set from the vicinity of Dingxiang. Huo Qubing, too, began his march, but he took a different path than his colleague, and started instead from Dai Provence. Both forces entered the Gobi Desert and braced for the grueling challenge of marching huge forces through an inhospitable environment.

The Xiongnu, according to the Chinese sources, often had an effective system of spies and informants. In 119 BCE, as in other times, the Xiongnu quickly learned of the Han invasion. The information put Shanyu Yizhixie in a dilemma—should he flee or fight. After deliberating with his friends and advisors, the shanyu ultimately chose to enact both choices at the same time. He sent his camp supplies, valuables and civilians further north, but personally remained at the edge of the Gobi Desert with an army of experienced Xiongnu warriors. His decision to engage the huge Chinese force was reasonable, as when the Han armies appeared at the north end of the desert, they would be fatigued and weakened from their trek through the Gobi. Furthermore, due to the competence of the Xiongnu spies and scouts, the shanyu was able to accurately predict where the two Han armies would appear on the north end of the desert.

After a rough journey, in which a great many horses likely died, the Han forces finally reached the opposite end of the Gobi, only to find another challenge awaiting them. Shanyu Yizhixie had deployed his troops to intercept both of the Han armies. Yizhixie personally led a force to challenge Wei Qing, while several minor Xiongnu kings led a force against Huo Qubing. The Xiongnu had a great many advantages for the battle—they chose the location of the fight, were familiar with the surroundings, and were well rested in contrast to the exhausted Han armies that were dragging themselves out of the desert. Yet, if there were Han generals who could even the odds back into their own favor by sheer strategy and instinct, it was Wei Qing and Huo Qubing.

Wei Qing met Shanyu Yizhixie’s forces at the edge of the desert sometime during the day, and when they made first contact, neither side was eager to start a full-scale battle at that time. Instead, the shanyu and Wei Qing engaged in small skirmishes with fractions of their cavalry forces, while the rest of the Xiongnu and Han troops remained in their respective camps. This status quo of contained small-scale prodding and testing continued until late in the day, and neither side had achieved much progress as sunset began to splash color on the sky. As the sun started to disappear below the horizon, the environment soon provided an opportunity that could be utilized by an attentive general.

As the story goes, a huge sandstorm swept over the battlefield. Although there was still some light, the sand storm was thick enough to make the opposing forces blind to the actions of the other. Wei Qing recognized the chance immediately and masterfully set about maneuvering his forces with great speed. Under the cover of the swirling sands, Wei Qing rushed his forces out of camp and, remembering the position of the enemy, sent his troops to quickly encircle the shanyu’s troops. When the sands finally died down and the battlefield became visible once again, Yizhixie and the Xiongnu were shocked to find themselves completely surrounded by Wei Qing’s huge force. The shanyu, finding himself so outmaneuvered, reportedly lost the will to continue the fight, and instead focused all his efforts on escape.

According to Grand Historian Sima Qian, Shanyu Yizhixie ultimately decided to ram his way through the Han encirclement and flee north. To do this, the shanyu gathered together several hundred of his most trusted, toughest, horsemen, and with these men he charged at a weak point in Wei Qing’s lines. Yizhixie did indeed escape, but in doing so he left behind thousands of his warriors. Either these abandoned troops were given the command to scatter in all directions, or they began to flee when they saw their leader gallop off into the night. Whatever the case, the Han forces had a wild night, with Xiongnu forces pressing out against the encirclement in all directions. Many of the nomads, like their shanyu, were able to escape, but their casualties were great—by dawn Wei Qing had reportedly killed or captured around 10,000 Xiongnu. Yizhixie ultimately escaped his Chinese pursuers, but by the time Wei Qing returned to Han territory, he had killed or captured an additional 9,000 Xiongnu.

Although Wei Qing had performed an impressive maneuver against Yizhixie and had dealt some major blows to the Xiongnu, he faced an underwhelming reception back in the court of Emperor Wu. This happened because Huo Qubing totally outshined his uncle during the 119 BCE campaign. Huo Qubing, in his battle against the shanyu’s subordinate kings, had obliterated the opposing forces on the battlefield. According to Grand Historian Sima Qian, Huo Qubing killed or captured a total of 70,443 Xiongnu before the end of his campaign. Yet, the Han successes had come at an incredible cost. Of the giant horde of horses that the Chinese dispatched into the desert, only around 30,000 were said to have survived the campaign. Similarly, although the Han had inflicted between 80,000 and 90,000 casualties on the Xiongnu, the Chinese also lost tens of thousands of their own troops.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Ancient Han Dynasty figurines from the National Museum/ China through the Ages, Exhibit 4, photographed by Gary Todd, [Public Domain] via worldhistorypics.com and Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.

The Drunken Defeat Of The Xiongnu In 124 BCE

Wei Qing was one of the most talented military leaders in the service of Emperor Wu (r. 141-87 BCE). He became a general in 129 BCE, and quickly went to work battling the emperor’s greatest foes at the time, the nomadic Xiongnu confederation. Wei Qing successfully maneuvered against Shanyu Junchen of the Xiongnu in annual campaigns between 129 and 127 BCE. His successes in these missions gave Emperor Wu enough confidence in the general to give Wei Qing a trial run as general-in-chief of the entire Han military. This hands-on audition took place in 124 BCE, when Wei Qing was put in command of six other generals and given a force of around 100,000 men to direct as he saw fit. After accepting this responsibility, Wei Qing dispatched his troops, some from Shuofang, and others from Gaoque, leading them on a campaign into hostile Xiongnu territory, which was, at that time, ruled by Junchen’s successor, Shanyu Yizhixie.

The invasion by this large Chinese force did not go unnoticed by the Xiongnu. An unnamed “Wise King of the Right”—one of the powerful lieutenants of the Shanyu—had been briefed on the Chinese incursion into Xiongnu territory. The Xiongnu king, however, thought that the Chinese forces were too far away to do him any harm for the foreseeable future, as his Xiongnu army was a considerable distance away from the Han Empire’s frontier that Wei Qing had just passed. According to Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), Emperor Wu’s Grand Historian and palace secretary, the carefree Wise King of the Right decided to allow his troops to enjoy themselves in revelry before they had to eventually react to the incoming Chinese army. In this calm before the storm, the Xiongnu discipline was relaxed and drinking was prevalent in the Wise King’s camp.

Unfortunately for the Xiongnu, Wei Qing possessed the skills shared by most of the greatest generals of the ancient world—speed and surprise. While the Wise King of the Right was partying with his troops throughout the day and night, Wei Qing had been relentlessly marching his army deep into Xiongnu territory with incredible speed. Before the first light of dawn began to brighten the morning sky, Wei Qing successfully found the Xiongnu camp and set about encircling the force of the Wise King of the Right. Although the Chinese forces were not visible in the darkness, something tipped off the Xiongnu to the hostile presence that was lurking just out of eyesight—perhaps, it was the rattling of equipment wielded by 100,000 warriors.

By this point, the Wise King of the Right had drunk himself into a stupor. Yet, the sounds of Wei Qing’s forces became so loud that the Xiongnu leader was roused from his haze. Caught off guard as he was, the Xiongnu king allegedly gave up any hope of winning the battle by means of force or strategy. Instead, he devoted all of his then-inebriated mental capacity to devising a way to personally escape from the encircling Chinese forces. In that tipsy and surprised state, the best plan that the Wise king could concoct was to grab his favorite concubine, rally his most able horsemen, and with this small band speed off into the night, hoping to hit a weak spot in the Chinese lines. This plan, interestingly enough, was successful for the king, as he did indeed punch through the Chinese forces and escaped north. Although the Wise King of the Right successfully escaped, he had unfortunately abandoned thousands of his Xiongnu countrymen in the process.

Wei Qing then attacked the leaderless Xiongnu camp and defeated the unprepared and disorganized foe with relative ease. According to Sima Qian, the battle led to the capture of 15,000 Xiongnu (including ten minor kings) and over 100,000 animals. With this victory complete, Wei Qing led his army and captives back into Han territory. Upon the general’s return, the pleased Emperor Wu added more land to Wei Qing’s fiefdom and made the military leader’s title of general-in-chief an official appointment.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Special Exhibit/ Xiongnu, Henan Provincial Museum, Zhengzhou. [Public Domain] via Creative Commons. Complete indexed photo collection at WorldHistoryPics.com).

Sources:

• The Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.

The Layered Sacrifices In Emperor Wu’s Alter Of The Great Unity

Emperor Wu of China (r. 141-87 BCE) constructed an elaborate altar to the “Great Unity” during his reign. It was a three-level structure where, besides the Great Unity, the entities of the sun, moon and the Five Heavenly Emperors were also worshipped. Each of these deities had a uniquely-outfitted priestly order at the altar, dressed in robes that corresponded to their religious focus. It must have been a vibrant and colorful scene—the sun priests wore red and moon priests dressed in white, while the devotees of the Five Heavenly Emperors (known as the Green, Red, White, Black, and Yellow Emperors) wore the color of their respective heavenly deity. Each priesthood of the various Heavenly Emperors operated from different shrines that encircled the base of the overall structure.

One of the duties of the various priests at the altar of the Great Unity was to conduct offerings and sacrifices to their respective celestial beings. The Great Unity was offered several bloodless sacrifices, including the typical culinary dishes of the time, thick wine and jujubes. The Five Heavenly Emperors were similarly given offerings of rich wine, poured from special ceremonial vessels. Yet, not all of the offerings were inanimate. Red-robed priests sacrificed a yak or ox to the sun, while white-robed priests sacrificed a ram or pig to the moon. A deer was also sacrificed, although to what or whom this creature was offered is vague compared to the other victims.

The slaughtering of the sacrificial victims was only half of the ceremony. After the blood was spilled, the priests had an interesting way of disposing of the animal carcasses. According to Emperor Wu’s Grand Historian and palace secretary, Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), the smaller sacrificial remains were stuffed into the larger carcasses, and they were all ceremoniously burned together. More specifically, the sacrificed pig or ram was placed inside the remains of the deer, and then the stuffed deer was subsequently crammed into the remains of the ox or yak. When this procedure was complete, the layered sacrifices were given a ritual cremation. To add more ceremony to the process, the priests would sprinkle drops of water, or other such liquids, onto the crackling fire as it burned.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Temple and landscape scene painted by Li Cheng (c. 919 - 967), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.

The Deadly Wedding Feast Of Tian Fen

Tian Fen was not a man to be trifled with—as the younger brother of Empress Wang, Tian Fen was the brother-in-law of Emperor Jing (r. 157-141 BCE) and also the uncle of Emperor Wu (r. 141-87 BCE). Furthermore, he was the marquis of Wuan, a chancellor of China and, in 135 BCE, he took a lead role in the regency council that advised Emperor Wu.

Many officials in the empire were afraid of Tian Fen’s power and would not dare to speak out against him. Yet, Marquis Dou Ying, and his friend Guan Fu, were not among the timid ranks. Instead, Dou Ying and Guan Fu seemed to clash with Tian Fen every chance they could. From property disputes to personal feuds and political arguments, the two sides rarely aligned. Only in their efforts to increase the role of Confucianism in Emperor Wu’s government could Tian Fen and Dou Ying find common ground. Yet, this common interest did little to stop the two ambitious marquises from descending into an ever more bitter rivalry.

The feud between Tian Fen and Dou Ying was exacerbated by the latter’s relationship with Guan Fu, whom the historian Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE) described as “a very stubborn and outspoken man, especially when he had something to drink” (Shi Ji 107). As Sima Qian hinted, Guan Fu could be quite the belligerent drunk. After a few drinks, he was known to become argumentative, and, on particularly bad days, it was not unheard of for Guan Fu to end up in drunken brawls. Unsurprisingly, it was a drinking party which would eventually seal Guan Fu’s downfall.

In 131 BCE, Tian Fen became a married man. His sister, the Empress Dowager Wang, encouraged the nobles and officials of the realm to pay Tian Fen a visit and congratulate him on his marriage. These visits were basically drinking parties, where containers of alcohol would be passed around and attendees were expected to give toasts and speeches in honor of Tian Fen. Guan Fu, for his part, realized the potential danger he faced by attending such a party, and therefore initially declined his invitation. Dou Ying, however, was able to make his friend reconsider. In the end, they attended Tian Fen’s wedding party together—unfortunately, the event would not have a pleasant outcome.

Dou Ying was on his best behavior during the party, and Guan Fu also contained himself for a time. Nevertheless, as his cup continued to be refilled, Guan Fu’s control weakened, making him argumentative and less cautious about his wording. To Dou Ying’s dismay, Guan Fu eventually began making a scene. By the end of the festivities, Guan Fu had sneered at most of the high officials present at the party and had even insulted Tain Fen, despite it being his wedding feast. At this point, Dou Ying tried to drag his friend out of the party, but Tian Fen was now completely outraged—before Guan Fu could be ushered away by friends, Tian Fen had the man arrested, right then and there, at the party.

Tragically, repercussions for perceived crimes in ancient China often affected more than just the accused criminal. The case of Guan Fu was no different; instead of being content with imprisoning the belligerent drunk, Tian Fen put out warrants for the arrest of the entire Guan clan. Fortunately for the Guan family, Dou Ying and other sympathetic men of means were able to forewarn the family, allowing them to go into hiding before the authorities arrived.

With the Guan family safe, Dou Ying devoted himself to the cause of freeing his imprisoned friend. Utilizing all of his political skills and connections, Dou Ying set out to clear his pal’s name while also attempting to discredit Tian Fen. If Dou Ying had solely focused on lessening the punishment of Guan Fu and his family, he may have made progress, yet by bundling a political campaign against the feared and respected Tian Fen into this mission, Dou Ying lost many of his allies among the officials. In the end, the plan backfired—instead of freeing Guan Fu or harming Tian Fen, the result of Dou Ying’s protests was his own imprisonment. Both Guan Fu and Dou Ying were executed in 130 BCE.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (A reproduction of an earlier Tang Dynasty (618-907) work of art, the reproduction is attributed to Emperor Huizong of Song (r. 1100–1125 AD), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Records of the Grand Historian (Shi ji) by Sima Qian, translated by Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 1993.
• http://www.chinaknowledge.de/History/Han/personstianfen.html 
• http://www.chinaknowledge.de/History/Han/personshanwudi.html 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Wudi-emperor-of-Han-dynasty  

The Deadly Rivalry Between Wei Qing and Li Gan

In 119 BCE, the accomplished Chinese military leader, Wei Qing, launched one of his many incursions into Xiongnu territory on behalf of Emperor Wu of Han (r. 141-87 BCE). With him was a subordinate general named Li Guang, a well-respected, but also well-aged, warrior. Although Li Guang was an inspiring officer, with a near-legendary skill with a bow, both Wei Qing and Emperor Wu had their reservations about the old general’s capabilities. Heeding these doubts, Wei Qing decided to remove Li Guang from the vanguard of his army, and instead sent him to reinforce the army’s right flank. Yet, while Li Guang and his forces were traveling to their new position, they unfortunately became lost and fell behind the rest of the army. In the end, Li Guang missed the battle between Wei Qing and the Xiongnu.

Despite Li Guang’s absence, Wei Qing won the day—he nearly encircled the enemy forces, but the Xiongnu leader was able to punch through the Han lines with his cavalry and escape. After the battle, Wei Qing summoned Li Guang to answer for his absence during the battle. Officials in the army would then send a report to the emperor of both the accusations and the general’s responses. The old military leader knew from experience that such unflattering reports could lead to a general being imprisoned, stripped of his titles, and possibly executed. Therefore, the seasoned warrior arrived at the meeting with Wei Qing in a grim state of mind.  According to the Grand Historian, Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), the disgruntled Li Guang appeared for his hearing and abruptly stated “Now I am over sixty—much too old to stand up to a bunch of petty clerks and their lists of charges!” (Shi JI 109). He then unsheathed his sword and cut his own throat.

Many in China mourned the death of Li Guang, but the late general’s son, Li Gan, had the most visceral reaction. Li Gan, like his father, served in the Han military, and he distinguished himself enough in battle to be given the noble rank of marquis, a title also held by the aforementioned Wei Qing. The two marquises, unsurprisingly, did not get along. Li Gan held Wei Qing responsible for driving his father to suicide and Wei Qing, in response, was irritated by Li Gan’s attitude. The friction between the two men steadily built, and, in a moment of weakness, Li Gan lost his composure and physically struck Wei Qing. The general was injured, but the wound was not serious, as Wei Qing quickly recovered and neither he or his friends filed charges against Li Gan. Unfortunately, Wei Qing’s mercy over this incident did not mean that Li Gan was forgiven.

At a later date, both Li Gan and other prominent men of the empire joined the emperor at the Palace of Sweet Springs. Emperor Wu and his courtiers, as noblemen were often wont to do, decided to go on a hunting trip. Yet, the outdoor excursion would prove to be anything but calm and peaceful.

During the course of the hunt, Li Gan eventually paired up with Huo Qubing, a devoted friend and relative of Wei Qing. Unfortunately, only one of the two would survive the hunt. At an unknown time during the trip, Li Gan was found dead and his body contained a suspicious puncture wound. Huo Qubing reportedly witnessed the death and he told the emperor that the dead marquis was killed by a deer. He claimed that, as they hunted together, he and Li Gan encountered an aggressive stag. Despite both hunters being great archers, this stag supposedly rushed the noblemen and fatally impaled Li Gan with an antler. Emperor Wu, who was fond of Huo Qubing, believed (or did not question) the story and publicly backed Huo Qubing’s testimony. Sima Qian and other contemporaries, however, viewed the death with much more suspicion. By the time Sima Qian began writing his Records of the Grand Historian, he had become convinced that Li Gan was murdered:

“When the party reached the Palace of Sweet Springs, an imperial hunt was held. Huo Qubing, who was on very close terms with Wei Qing, took the opportunity to shoot and kill Li Gan. At this time, Huo Qubing enjoyed great favor with the emperor, and the emperor therefore covered for him, giving out the story that Li Gan had been gored and killed by a stag. A year or so later, Huo Qubing died [117 BCE]” (Shi JI 109).

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (The Qianlong Emperor Hunting Hare, by Giuseppe Castiglione (1688–1766), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Records of the Grand Historian (Shi Ji 109) by Sima Qian. Translated by Burton Watson (Columbia University Press, 1993).
• http://www.chinaknowledge.de/History/Han/personsweiqing.html 
• http://www.chinaknowledge.de/History/Han/personshuoqubing.html