Emperor Gaozu Of The Han Dynasty Almost Had His Son-In-Law Executed

Zhang Ao was the son of Zhang Er, a politician and general who helped Emperor Gaozu (King of Han c. 206 BCE, emperor r. 202-195 BCE) seize power after the fall of the Qin Dynasty. For his role in Emperor Gaozu’s rise to power, Zhang Er was rewarded with the crown to the kingdom of Zhao, which, of course, was still subservient to the Han emperor. When Zhang Er died in 202 BCE, his son, Zhang Ao, succeeded to the throne of Zhao. His power and prominence increased even further when he married Princess Yuan of Lu, the daughter of Emperor Gaozu and Empress Lü.

Zhang Ao’s relationship with his powerful father-in-law, however, was in no way ideal. Emperor Gaozu did not seem to particularly like the man that his little girl had chosen to spend her life with, so the emperor apparently went out of his way to pick on the king of Zhao. The Han historian, Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), wrote that Emperor Gaozu would rudely laze about in the palace of Zhao, publicly showing his disapproval and indifference toward his son-in-law. King Zhang Ao, for his part, tried to remain as humble as possible, apparently even going to the extent of dismissing his servants and personally serving meals to the emperor.

The sight was so pitiful that even the ministers and generals of Zhao sympathized with their abused king. According to Sima Qian, a group of around ten powerful men, led by Prime Minister Guan Gao, met with Zhang Ao and offered to support the king if he wished to rebel. They also proclaimed that they were willing to hire an assassin to send after the emperor. Sima Qian alleged that Zhang Ao chastised the conspirators and sent them away without granting his blessing, but somehow the conspiracy reached the ears of Emperor Gaozu and the emperor ordered Zhang Ao and his advisors to be arrested.

Sima Qian hinted that many of the Zhao conspirators committed suicide, but at least Zhang Ao and Guan Gao were captured alive. When their king was arrested, several members of the court of Zhao who were not a part of the conspiracy decided to travel to the capital in Chang’an with their heads shaved and dressed like slaves, so that they could show support for their imprisoned liege.

Guan Gao apparently testified that Zhang Ao was innocent, saying that while the conspirators had indeed plotted against the emperor’s life, the king of Zhao had vehemently disapproved of the plan. The Prime Minister of Zhao’s speech convinced the interrogators and the emperor, resulting in the release of Zhang Ao. For his truthfulness, Emperor Gaozu allegedly also pardoned Gauan Gao, yet when the prime minister received confirmation that Zhang Ao had been freed, he committed suicide.

Although Zhang Ao did not face any serious punishment, he was apparently removed from the throne of Zhao. Sill, the husband of the emperor’s daughter could not be left landless. As such, after his release from jail, Zhang Ao was quickly named as the Marquis of Xuanping and his descendants with Princess Yuan became the Kings of Lu.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (A Chinese garden gathering painted by Xie Huan, circa 1437, [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/Han/personszhangao.html  

General Han Xin And The Great Flag Ruse

Han Xin was one of the more quirky generals that served Liu Bang, the King of Han who emerged as the first Han emperor after the fall of the Qin Dynasty. The Qin forces were toppled by 207 BCE, and in 206 BCE, China was once again shattered into numerous kingdoms, with Liu Bang dominating the west from Han and Xiang Yu lording over the east from Chu. When civil war erupted between Liu Bang and Xiang Yu, other minor kings and rogue generals had to choose a side. It was around 206 BCE, when the anti-Qin rebel leaders were claiming their kingdoms, that Han Xin defected from the camp of Xiang Yu and joined Liu Bang.

According to the Han historian, Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), Han Xin was a man of undiscovered talent when he joined the Han army. He had no money, no noble lineage, and although he had been in the rebel coalition for years, he had not been able to distinguish himself in battle. Yet, he was a brave man and had an unorthodox way of envisioning military strategy. Even though Han Xin had thus far not been able to prove his talents, several notable Han officials recognized a spark of something special in the man. Lord Teng and Prime Minister Xiao He allegedly vouched for Han Xin and, following their counsel, Liu Bang granted the defector a rank of commissary colonel in the Han military. By 204 BCE, Han Xin had been promoted to the rank of major general and became a prime minister.

That same year (204 BCE), Han Xin and Zhang Er were sent by the king of Han to conquer the kingdoms of Zhao and Dai. The kings of those two regions, Xie in Zhao and Chen Yu in Dai, were close friends and they combined their forces to defend against the Han army.

The armies clashed at the Jing Gorge, located southwest of Dai and northwest of Zhao. Han Xin and Zhang Er allegedly possessed an army of around 20,000-30,000 men strong, which was positioned in the mouth of the gorge. The forces of Dai and Zhao was apparently much larger, supposedly reaching around 200,000 troops.

When the opposing generals came into contact, it was uncertain who had the terrain advantage. The Han troops were in the mountainous gorge and as long as they stayed on the mountainside, they had a favorable position. Yet, they were the invaders and their army would have to move eventually. On the other side, the forces of Zhao and Dai set up a fortified encampment on a strong position overlooking the mouth of the gorge, from which they could defend against a Han invasion. As long as they stayed in their fortifications, the defenders would have a significant advantage.

The two sides held their positions for some time, each waiting for the other to move first. Eventually, the Han forces looked to the ingenuity of Han Xin for a solution to their current predicament. Han Xin, for his part, would not disappoint.

Sima Qian wrote that Han spies had infiltrated the opposing fortification and were sending back information to Han Xin. One of the conclusions that the general made from the information he received was that the Zhao and Dai forces were confident—fatally confident—and that Chen Yu, the lead opposing general, underestimated the strength of the Han troops. Han Xin constructed his strategy around this information, planning to use the confidence and ignorance of the Zhao and Dai forces as a weapon to turn the battle in his favor.

To encourage the enemy to underestimate the Han forces, Han Xin began breaking basic military axioms known to all ancient Chinese warriors. First, Han Xin split his already outnumbered army into two halves and sent one of them to a vulnerable section of the gorge. As an extra embellishment, he had that portion of the army back itself against the river that ran through the gorge—an action that Chinese military proverbs warned against. It was such a breach of accepted military strategy that the defenders in the Zhao and Dai army could supposedly be heard openly howling with laughter.

Han Xin stayed with the half of the army still on the mountainside. There, he split off another group of soldiers, a force of 2,000 light cavalry, and had them hide where they could inconspicuously watch the battlefield. When the cavalry had disappeared, Han Xin led the rest of the army down the mountain to a position not too far from the rest of the Han forces by the river.

From their defenses, the Zhao and Dai troops could not believe their eyes. The Han army was willingly lining up with its back to the river, ready to be pushed into the deadly water by the much larger defending force. The opportunity was too enticing for the Zhao and Dai troops to ignore. So, a large portion of the defenders charged against the half of the Han army personally led by Han Xin. After the battle raged for a time, Han Xin withdrew his troops back to the river, joining up with the other half of the Han army on the riverbanks. When the rest of the defenders in the Zhao and Dai fortification saw Han Xin retreat to the river, their bloodlust got the better of them, and they too charged out of the camp to join the battle, leaving only a scattering of men in the fort.

This second charge from the Zhao and Dai camp was exactly the sign that the 2,000 hidden Han cavalry were told to look for. When the horsemen saw that the enemy camp was virtually deserted except for a scattering of men, they took off down the mountainside. The Han cavalry successfully evaded the eyes of the occupied Zhao and Dai army and reached the walls of the enemy fortification without being discovered. There, they dismounted and grabbed their secret weapons from their bags—each of the 2,000 horsemen had a single bright red Han flag. With these flags in hand, the horsemen rushed into the fortification and went to work.

Back by the river, where Han Xin and Zhang Er were desperately trying to keep their troops from being pushed into the water, things were looking grim. The Zhao and Dai forces had pinned down their opponents, but the Han army was putting up a valiant stand. Still, the Zhao and Dai soldiers had been confident of victory ever since they rushed out of their camps, all they had to do was break the will of the trapped Han forces. Yet, it was the Zhao and Dai armies that would break first. When troops in the back lines of the Zhao and Dai forces looked back at their camp, they saw a startling sight—all of the Zhao flags on the defensive walls had been cut down and replaced by vibrant Han standards.

The unexpected flags apparently caused a sense of insurmountable panic to flood the minds of the Zhao and Dai troops. Had another Han army arrived? Had their kings or generals fallen during the battle? Did they fall into an elaborate trap? Faced with such questions, the Zhao and Dai soldiers lost all of their confidence and, instead of finishing the battle, they began to flee. The panic only increased when an unseen band of Han cavalry crashed into the back of the Zhao and Dai army.

In the end, the battle at the Jing Gorge turned out to be a crippling defeat for the Zhao and Dai forces. The Han army managed to capture both King Xie of Zhao and King Chen Yu of Dai, the latter of which was executed by his bitter rival, Zhang Er, who was crowned as the new king of Zhao by Liu Bang.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Horsemen carrying flags from Ming Dynasty Departure Herald, from the Jiajing reign period in China(1522-1566 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.

A King Of Ancient Zhao Was Apparently Killed Because Of His Sister’s Rude Behavior

In ancient Chinese history, people often died in unusual ways and because of odd circumstances, but the fate of King Wu Chen had a peculiarity that made it stand out from other downfalls during his age. According to Sima Qian (c. 145-90 BCE), author of the Records of the Grand Historian, King Wu Chen lost his life because his sister behaved impolitely on a road.

Wu Chen lived in one of the most chaotic times of ancient Chinese history. In 209 BCE, a commoner named Chen She began a rebellion against the Qin Dynasty. After years of suffering under the Qin regime’s strict oppression, the Chinese people were immediately drawn to Chen She’s movement. Revolts popped up in numerous Chinese regions and Chen She was able to position himself as a hegemon, or arch-rebel, acting as the leader of the resistance against the Qin Dynasty. Wu Chen, the man mentioned at the start of the article, was one of Chen She’s early followers.

After earning the arch-rebel’s admiration and trust, Wu Chen received from Chen She an army of 3,000 men, plus some advisors, and was ordered to seize control of the Zhao region. The advisors served Wu Chen well, and they convinced him to try a policy of leniency to win over Zhao. By letting Qin officials keep their titles and status, Wu Chen was reportedly able to take over thirty cities by talking them into joining the rebel cause.

Wu Chen had several skilled and ambitious advisors with him, most notably Zhang Er and Chen Yu, who would both become kings at some point in the rebellion. As the advisors liked Wu Chen more than Chen She, they argued that Wu Chen should not give away land in Zhao to another man, but rather that he should keep it all for himself. After some thought, Wu Chen agreed with his advisors and proclaimed himself to be the king of Zhao. Chen She grudgingly recognized Wu Chen’s title, but still expected the upstart king to follow the orders of the rebellion’s high command.

The king of Zhao once again consulted with his advisors on what to do. They advised Wu Chen to ignore Chen She’s demands and to focus on expanding his kingdom, thereby helping himself while also aiding the rebellion. Agreeing with his advisors, Wu Chen sent out generals to seize control of the regions of Yan, Shangdang and Changshan.

The man in charge of taking Changshan was Li Liang, perhaps one of the Zhao king’s most competent generals. While the expedition to Yan embarrassingly ended in mutiny and Wu Chen being momentarily captured, Li Liang contrastingly subjugated the region of Changshan without much fuss or issue. Pleased with the general’s results, the freed Wu Chen sent Li Liang to capture another swath of territory, this time asking him to take Taiyuan. When Li Liang arrived at his location, he realized that Qin reinforcements had already secured the area, so he headed back to Zhao to get more troops. Despite there not being any major battles, the Qin forces somehow recognized Li Liang, possibly because of military service prior to the rebellion. Whatever the case, Li Liang soon received a letter from a Qin official, claiming that if the general switched sides in the war, he would be pardoned for his part in the rebellion and would receive a good position in the Qin regime.

According to Sima Qian, Li Liang was not swayed by what he read. He continued back toward Handan, the capital of Zhao, intending to strengthen his army for the Taiyuan campaign. Even so, the letter showed Li Liang that he had another option, even if the realization was only made subconsciously.

As Li Liang neared the city of Handan, he noticed a carriage, accompanied by 100 horsemen, that was heading up the road. As the carriage was flying the royal colors of Zhao, Li Liang thought that King Wu Chen was approaching. To show deference and respect, Li Liang and his officers dismounted from their horses and bowed by the side of the road as the carriage rolled past.

Little did Li Liang know that the king was not in the carriage. Actually, it was the king’s sister, who, according to Sima Qian, was still drunk from a drinking party that she had recently attended. Not recognizing the soldiers, or noticing the high status of the their commanding general, the king’s sister only sent one of her horsemen to acknowledge Li Liang with a generic statement of royal thanks. Li Liang took this gesture to be a personal insult and even worse, he believed he had been humiliated and disgraced in front of his army and officers.

The carriage incident prompted Li Liang to rebel against the kingdom of Zhao. Both the general’s staff and common soldiers apparently sympathized with their leader, so Li Liang’s army followed him into rebellion. Li Liang sent assassins after Wu Chen’s sister and then marched the rogue army against Handan, laying siege to the city while the king was still inside. He successfully captured Handan and executed King Wu Chen. After taking the capital, Li Liang attempted to confront another Zhao army, commanded by Chen Yu, but this time he was defeated. After his defeat, Li Liang fled and joined the Qin army.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (A section from the Silk Princess painting from Dandan-oilik (Place of Houses with Ivory), a Buddhist sanctuary in Khotan; from Xinjiang, China, 7th-8th century 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.