The dynasty that reunified China after the Five Dynasties, ruled a state that paid other powers to leave it alone rather than fight them, lost its capital and the whole north to a border war, and spent its last century as a wealthy remnant south of the Yangtze.
Began 960Ended 1279
1000110012001300
Reach at peak
3,100,000 km²
980 · Taagepera, International Studies Quarterly 41(3), 475-504 (1997)
The Yellow River and Yangtze plains, and after 1127 the lands south of the Huai
How it was governed
3 of 4 coded
Army raised byHow the fighting force was recruited, not how it fought.
standing professionalPaid, permanent, recruited and commanded centrally
Boulger, The History of China (1898)
Revenue fromWhat the state lived on. The values are unranked: the field cannot express which mattered most.
land taxTax on agricultural production and land
Boulger, The History of China (1898)
Succession byThe rule in force, not the outcome. A rule repeatedly violated is still the rule.
No cited figure
Right to rule fromThe ground publicly asserted — on coins, in the khutba, in titles.
divine sanctionA mandate from above — heaven, or a claim to be mahdi or imam
Boulger, The History of China (1898)
Each line is drawn from a source that addresses the question directly. A line reads No cited figure where no source consulted does — never because the answer seemed obvious.
Turning points
7 hinges
9601279
960
Zhao Kuangyin proclaimed emperorReform
A general serving the last of the Five Dynasties was acclaimed by his own soldiers on campaign and took the throne without a battle. He spent his reign centralising an army that had spent half a century making and breaking emperors, and handed the office an institutional stability it had not had since the Tang.
Boulger, The History of China (1898)
1067
Wang Anshi's New Policies beginReformContested
Shenzong gave an untried official the chief ministry and backed his programme against most of the senior civil service. State credit, a state trading monopoly and a militia levy replaced tax farming, private moneylending and the standing professional army as the default mechanisms of Song government for the length of the reign.
Boulger, The History of China (1898)
1085
Sima Guang reverses the New PoliciesReform
On Shenzong's death the reformers lost their patron, and Sima Guang - recalled to the chancellorship he had resigned in protest fifteen years earlier - dismantled the New Policies within months of returning to power. The reversal, as much as the reforms themselves, set the pattern of court politics running to the end of the Northern Song: each new reign undoing the settled policy of the last.
Giles, A History of Chinese Literature (1901)
1127
The fall of KaifengCatastrophe
A Jin army took the capital, captured two emperors and the greater part of the imperial clan, and carried them into captivity in the north. A surviving prince re-founded the dynasty at Nanjing and then Hangzhou, ruling a state confined to the lands south of the Huai for the rest of its existence.
Boulger, The History of China (1898)
1141
An ignominious peace with the JinTreaty
Gaozong surrendered his claim to the lost northern territory, agreed to an annual tribute in silk and money, and let his chancellor Qin Hui engineer a false treason charge against Yue Fei - the general whose recent victories had done most to make the Jin willing to negotiate at all, and whose execution cleared the last obstacle to the peace Qin Hui wanted.
Mayers, The Chinese Reader's Manual (1874)
1273
Xiangyang fallsSiege
Four years of siege, two failed relief attempts and the loss of its twin fortress Fanching to Persian-built trebuchets ended with the governor Lü Wenhuan surrendering the city that had guarded the Han river approach to the Yangtze - the last defensible line standing between the Mongols and Hangzhou, opened by a court too consumed by its own chancellor's neglect to relieve the men holding it.
Boulger, The History of China (1898)
1279
YamenBattle
A Mongol fleet destroyed the last Song squadron in the Pearl River estuary. A minister carried the child emperor into the sea rather than surrender him, and with that drowning the dynasty that had begun with a general acclaimed by his own troops ended without an heir left to acclaim.
Boulger, The History of China (1898)
Chapters
10 in order · about 26 minutes
Who more worthy
formationDrafted from Boulger, The History of China (1898)
The Tang fell in 907, and for fifty-three years no government held all of
northern China for long. Five dynasties succeeded one another in the north
alone, each installed by an army that had just finished unmaking the last one,
while the south split into a scatter of separate kingdoms. Zhao Kuangyin, born
near modern Beijing to a family with several generations of minor military
office behind it, served in the guards of the Later Zhou, the fifth and last
of the northern dynasties, and distinguished himself in its wars of
reunification — on one occasion, Boulger records, his presence of mind alone
saved the day at the battle of Kaoping.
The task left half finished
The Later Zhou's ruler, Chai Rong, had begun the work of putting the north
back together and died with it incomplete. Zhao Kuangyin, by then a senior
general, took it up. The country, Boulger writes, "prayed for peace, and was
anxious to give all the support it could to a man acting for its interests" —
public spirit had gone dead during the years when the throne had been "the
lottery of soldiers," changing hands too fast for anyone to feel invested in
its survival.
The moment came while Zhao Kuangyin was on campaign. His own troops
surrounded him and put the matter plainly. "The Empire is without a master,"
they told him, "and we wish to give it one. Who is more worthy of it than our
general?" Whatever the choreography behind it — and a soldiery announcing to
its commander that it has already decided to make him emperor is not, in any
army, a wholly spontaneous event — Zhao Kuangyin accepted, returned to the
capital, and took the throne without having to fight for it. Signs, his
contemporaries said, had already appeared in the heavens confirming that
Heaven willed it.
The first acts
He named his dynasty Song, took red as the imperial colour, and styled
himself Taizu. His first measures were a general pardon and a proclamation,
sent even into provinces still defiant of the new centre, ordering the
restoration of law and the preservation of domestic peace. He restored the
privileges of the scholar class, stripped from them during the preceding
disorder, and — though not himself a learned man — funded and protected
learning on the plain conviction that it served the state. He kept the doors
of his own palace open day and night, wanting his house to resemble his
heart, "which was open to all his subjects."
Zhao Kuangyin, Taizu of Song, in a Song court portrait.
National Palace Museum, Taipei · Boulger, The History of China (1898) · Unknown · Public domain
To the army that had made him he applied the same instinct for
institutionalising what had been personal. Where the Five Dynasties had run
on the loyalty of individual soldiers to individual commanders — the exact
mechanism that had put five different men on the throne in half a century —
Taizu built an examined, promoted, salaried force answerable to the office
of emperor rather than to whichever general held its immediate allegiance.
Officers had to demonstrate physical fitness and a working knowledge of
military subjects before promotion; a soldier's advancement ran through the
state's own ranks, not through a warlord's household.
Reunification, city by city
The task that remained was the actual reconquest of a divided country, and
Taizu pursued it province by province rather than in one campaign. Lieouki
Yuen, Prince of Han and the last of the great regional strongmen to hold out,
weighed the odds, judged further resistance futile, and surrendered his
forces to the emperor's camp in person — absorbed afterward as a minor prince
at court rather than executed, a mercy Boulger is careful to note was not
Taizu's universal practice but was characteristic of it. By such
accumulations of siege, negotiation and outright submission, the fragments
Zhao Kuangyin had inherited from a hundred years of fracture were reassembled
into a single administration for the first time since the Tang's own decline.
Taizu playing football with his brother and ministers, in Qian Xuan's copy of about 1300 after an earlier painting.
Boulger, The History of China (1898) · Qian Xuan · Public domain
The reunification brought a fresh problem into view immediately: the
reassembled Chinese state now had a direct, long border with the Tartar
kingdom of Liao, which had been meddling in Chinese affairs for a century and
had no intention of stopping because the meddling now had a stronger
neighbour to answer to. That confrontation, and the peace it eventually
produced, would occupy the Song's founder and his immediate successors for
decades — but it was a problem a reunited empire could at least face as one
government, which was the entire point of the work Taizu had just finished.
Dangerous cabals
expansionDrafted from Boulger, The History of China (1898)
Renzong came to the throne at thirteen in 1022, and for the first eleven
years of his reign the real ruler of China was his mother, the regent
empress dowager - a capable administrator in her own right, who repealed the
wartime tea and salt taxes and set up a board to keep local officials from
using taxation to oppress the people they collected it from.
Renzong in a Song court portrait.
National Palace Museum, Taipei · Boulger, The History of China (1898) · Unknown · Public domain
A war he did not choose well
Renzong took the government into his own hands on her death in 1033, and
within a year found himself facing a threat neither he nor his ministers had
taken seriously enough. Li Yuanhao, ruler of the frontier state of Xia in the
northwest, had spent years quietly drilling his own army on the Chinese
model while the Song court assumed a long peace meant a permanently weakened
neighbour. In 1038 he declared himself emperor in his own right rather than
the Prince of Xia the Song court had recognised him as, and the war that
followed went badly for China from the start: a three-day battle at Sanchuan
went to the Xia army, and a second engagement near Yang Moulong ended with
the Song commander Jinfou refusing to leave the field even mortally wounded -
"I ought to die," he is recorded saying, and did, his body found among the
thickest of the slain. The Khitan Liao, watching Song's weakness with their
own interest, used the moment to seize ten frontier cities of their own.
Renzong bought the peace his army could not win. The 1042 treaty with Liao
raised the annual tribute in silk and silver Song had already been paying;
the settlement with Xia the same year restored Li Yuanhao's full dignities
and committed the court to an annual gift of a hundred thousand bolts of silk
and thirty thousand pounds of tea, on top of conceding his right to fortify
his own frontier. It was not a settlement anyone at court could take pride
in. It did buy the twenty years of peace the rest of the reign is actually
remembered for.
A circle of scholars in government
What that peace let Renzong build was less a military legacy than an
intellectual one. On the recommendation of his minister Fan Zhongyan, he
ordered a college built in every town of the empire, staffed with lecturers
and examiners, and personally prostrated himself before the doors of the
capital's own Confucian academy to mark how seriously he meant it. Late in
his reign he commissioned a full official history of the Tang dynasty,
assembled by a team that included Sima Guang - the finished work running to
two hundred and twenty-five volumes, one of the genuine monuments of Chinese
historical writing.
Fan Zhongyan in a later portrait.
Boulger, The History of China (1898) · Unknown · Public domain
Fan Zhongyan, Sima Guang, Ouyang Xiu and the other scholars this policy
brought into government worked closely enough together that courtiers
complained to the emperor about a faction operating in the palace's own
corridors - "men in public service should not form a party amongst
themselves," ran the accusation Renzong himself half-credited. Ouyang Xiu's
own written defence survives: their association, he argued, produced results
good for the nation and was not to be confused with cabals formed for an
unworthy purpose. The twenty peaceful years that followed the settlements
with Xia and Liao gave that argument room to be tested, and by most later
judgments, Renzong's own long, unspectacular reign is remembered as having
won it.
What outlived him
Renzong died in 1063 after thirty-one years on the throne, credited by the
record with greater virtue than ability but real success in the harder task
of keeping his ministers' loyalty and his subjects' affection without any
single dramatic achievement to point to. The scholarly circle his own
patronage had assembled - Sima Guang above all - went on to shape the
argument the next reign would actually be remembered for: whether the state
that Fan Zhongyan's generation had staffed with examination graduates should
also be the state that ran the economy those graduates administered.
Stone figures on the spirit road of the Yongzhao, Renzong's tomb at Gongyi.
Boulger, The History of China (1898) · Gary Todd · CC0
A sure and certain market
peakDrafted from Giles, The Civilization of China (1911)
By the time Wang Anshi turned forty-eight he had risen, on the strength of a
formidable memory and an even more formidable pen, to confidential adviser of
the emperor Shenzong. What followed, in Giles's account, was one of the most
sweeping programmes of state intervention any Chinese government had yet
attempted — dressed, for the benefit of a population that distrusted anything
without precedent, in the language of a return to older and more correctly
understood readings of the Confucian classics. The dressing convinced almost
nobody in the senior bureaucracy and did not need to: it had the emperor.
Wang Anshi in a later portrait.
Giles, The Civilization of China (1911) · Unknown · Public domain
The middleman state
The centrepiece was a scheme aimed, in its own stated terms, at lowering
taxation while raising revenue at the same time — a promise Giles treats with
open scepticism, though he lays out the mechanism without editorial comment.
A district's produce was to be divided three ways: enough set aside to meet
its tax obligation, enough to meet its own needs, and the remainder bought up
by the state at a low fixed rate, to be held against a price rise or shipped
to wherever demand happened to be running high. The farmer got a guaranteed
buyer. The state got to keep the margin a private merchant would otherwise
have taken as middleman.
Shenzong, Wang Anshi's patron, in a Song court portrait.
National Palace Museum, Taipei · Giles, The Civilization of China (1911) · Unknown · Public domain
Beside it ran a system of compulsory state credit: advances to cultivators
secured against their standing crops, issued whether or not the farmer had
asked for one. A militia reform required every family with more than two
adult males to furnish one for military service, and separately obliged
every household to raise a state-subsidised cavalry horse on the government's
behalf. The old corvée obligation — forced labour drafts for public works —
was converted into a money payment instead. State warehouses for bartering
and pledging goods were set up empire-wide.
What did not work
The most ambitious single measure, and the one Giles singles out as the
scheme's clearest overreach, was a plan to remeasure the entire country's
farmland into equal taxed squares and assess each according to its fertility.
It proved unworkable in practice and drew, like everything else Wang Anshi
proposed, bitter resistance from the officials who had to administer it.
A separate crisis followed his decision to lift all restriction on the
export of copper: the state's own copper cash began disappearing into
melting pots to be recast and sold as raw metal abroad, and a currency panic
followed. Wang Anshi's fix was blunt rather than elegant — he simply doubled
the nominal value of each coin still in circulation, which stopped the
bleeding without addressing why it had started.
The examinations, and his own reading
He also went after the civil service examination itself, pushing candidates
toward practical subjects — history, geography, political economy — and away
from ornamental style for its own sake. A contemporary author, quoted by
Giles, recorded the effect at the grassroots with some astonishment: "even
the pupils at the village schools threw away their text-books of rhetoric,
and began to study primers of history, geography, and political economy."
Wang Anshi described his own reading habits, by way of justifying the
reform, as omnivorous to the point of eccentricity — medical texts, botanical
treatises, agricultural manuals, anything that might illuminate "the great
scheme of the Canon itself."
He fell from favour before the reign was out, was dismissed to a provincial
post, briefly recalled, and then retired from public life to die not long
after — having lived, Giles notes dryly, to see nearly the whole of his own
policy reversed by the men who came after him.
The living Buddha
asideDrafted from Giles, A History of Chinese Literature (1901)
As a boy, Sima Guang saved a playmate from drowning in a water jar by the
simplest method available to him: he picked up a stone and smashed the jar,
letting the water out. Giles offers the anecdote as the first evidence of a
mind that solved problems by attacking the actual obstacle rather than the
conventional one, a habit that shaped both his politics and the four decades
he spent, on and off, compiling the single largest work of history his
country had produced.
The boy Sima Guang breaking the water jar, on a Japanese porcelain dish made for the European market around 1700.
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York · Giles, A History of Chinese Literature (1901) · Unknown · CC0
Opposition
Sima Guang rose through the official examinations to the rank of Minister of
State, and used the position to oppose Wang Anshi's reform programme from the
inside for as long as he could. In 1070, unable to check it any further, he
resigned the chancellorship rather than continue administering policies he
believed would fail. He did not return to office until 1085, the year
Shenzong died and the reforms lost the one patron who had kept them running
against the bureaucracy's own judgment. Within months of his return Sima
Guang had dismantled nearly the whole of Wang Anshi's programme; within
months after that, he was dead — reportedly still labouring for the state's
good on his return to the capital, undone by illness rather than politics.
His countrymen called him, on his death, the Living Buddha.
Sima Guang in a later woodblock portrait.
Giles, A History of Chinese Literature (1901) · Unknown · Public domain
The Mirror
His resignation in 1070 was not idleness. He used the years out of office to
complete the Zizhi Tongjian — the "Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in
Government" — a chronological history of China running from the fifth
century BC to the founding of the Song itself in 960, a title the emperor
bestowed on the finished work in 1084 on the reasoning that "to view antiquity
as it were in a mirror is an aid in the administration of government." As a
student he had rested his arm on a rounded wooden pillow designed to roll and
wake him the moment he began to doze over his books; as an old man compiling
a work that size, the same discipline against half-measures that had smashed
the water jar kept him at it for the better part of two decades.
He was, by the account of his own household, fanatically careful with the
physical books themselves — his library still looked new after years of use,
because he forbade his students from turning pages by scratching at them
with a fingernail and made them use the pads of two fingers instead.
What he wrote about watching the watchmen
One surviving fragment of his prose, on the office of Censor, reads less like
institutional history than like a warning aimed past his own century. Before
the Han dynasty, he wrote, admonishing the throne had been every subject's
right, "from the highest statesman down to the artisan and trader." The Han
turned that right into an office, charged with weighing the empire's
successes and failures for the throne's benefit and not the censor's own. In
1017 six men were formally appointed to the post; by 1045 their names were
written up on public boards; by 1062 the names were being cut into stone, so
that posterity could point at one and say "there was a loyal man," and at
another, "there was a traitor." Sima Guang's own comment on the practice was
a question rather than an endorsement: "Does not this give cause for fear?"
The fall of Kaifeng
contractionDrafted from Boulger, The History of China (1898)
The Jin had begun their revolt as vassals of the Liao, the Tartar power that
had sat on the Song's northern border since before the dynasty's founding.
Song diplomacy helped bring the Liao down, on the reasoning that a weaker,
still-forming Jin was a safer neighbour than a strong, entrenched Liao. The
Jin destroyed the Liao inside eleven years and turned on their former ally
almost as soon as the job was finished.
The first siege
A Jin detachment crossed into Song territory in 1125. Emperor Huizong fled
south to Nanjing for his own safety and left his son to manage what
resistance could be organised. The Jin general Walipou drove on the capital,
Kaifeng, but the wider Jin leadership had not yet settled how far to press
the advantage — a faction among them argued the Yellow River marked the
natural limit of Jin ambition. Negotiations produced a treaty, and Huizong
returned to his capital believing the crisis over.
The outskirts of Kaifeng in Along the River During the Qingming Festival, attributed to Zhang Zeduan, early twelfth century (opening section).
Palace Museum, Beijing · Boulger, The History of China (1898) · Zhang Zeduan (attributed) · CC0
Walipou did not share the restraint of his own colleagues. He wanted Kaifeng
occupied outright and refused to honour the settlement. Forced into one
retreat, he came back in greater strength, and this time the armies the new
emperor, Qinzong, sent to meet him were beaten badly enough that the Jin
could lay close siege to the capital itself.
Qinzong, the emperor carried north in 1127, in a Song court portrait.
National Palace Museum, Taipei · Boulger, The History of China (1898) · Unknown · Public domain
The siege
Kaifeng's garrison numbered some seventy thousand men, reinforced by another
thirty thousand marched up from the south, and there was a real prospect —
Boulger allows — that want of supplies might have forced Walipou to withdraw
if the city could simply hold. Prince Kang Wang and the more resolute
officers argued for exactly that course. Qinzong did not share their nerve.
When a Jin assault briefly took the ramparts and gates, it seemed to confirm
his instinct for a negotiated settlement, and only Walipou's own reluctance
to spend lives on the street fighting the Song had prepared for kept the
city from falling by storm there and then. Qinzong went to the Jin camp
himself to arrange peace terms.
The Iron Pagoda at Kaifeng, built in 1049 and still standing.
Boulger, The History of China (1898) · Gary Todd · CC0
The Jin demanded a payment Qinzong knew, even as he promised it, that he
could not raise. When his followers discovered how little of the promised
sum would actually materialise, the outcry among them was loud enough that
Qinzong was detained rather than allowed to return to his own capital.
Huizong and the rest of the imperial family still in Kaifeng were induced to
seek shelter in the Jin camp and were carried off into Tartary; both former
emperors eventually died there, at long intervals from each other and from
home.
What was left
Walipou was not satisfied with the ransom of the capital and the removal of
the ruling house. He installed a court creature as a puppet emperor over what
remained of Song territory, but the arrangement lasted only as long as the
Jin army stayed close enough to enforce it — the moment Walipou withdrew, the
puppet was set aside.
The dynasty survived in the person of Kang Wang, who took the throne as
Emperor Gaozong and restored Song rule over what territory remained to him.
But the terms of the restoration were permanent: China now had two empires
where it had had one, the Jin holding the north with a stronger, more
vigorous state apparatus than the Liao they had replaced, and the Song
confined — for the rest of the dynasty's existence — to the lands south of a
frontier it would spend the next century and a half trying, and failing, to
push back.
The general who would not make peace
contractionDrafted from Mayers, The Chinese Reader's Manual (1874)
Yue Fei rose from a lieutenant under Zhang Jun to lieutenant-general within a
single year, 1131, and for the next five years was the one commander the
restored Southern Song court could rely on to reverse rather than merely
survive its losses to the Jin.
Yue Fei in a handscroll of four generals of the restoration attributed to the Southern Song painter Liu Songnian.
Mayers, The Chinese Reader's Manual (1874) · Liu Songnian (attributed) · Public domain
A soldier the court could not fully use
His early service brought a warlord's submission and the recovery of
substantial territory from insurgent leaders operating in the chaos the Jin
invasion had left behind. In 1136 he asked the court's permission to attack
the Chinese provinces the Jin had occupied outright - not another defensive
campaign, but a genuine attempt to reverse the settlement of 1127. The
permission was refused, on the advice of the chancellor Qin Hui, who had
already committed himself to negotiating a peace with the Jin that a
victorious general in the field would only complicate.
Gaozong's own letter to Yue Fei, written in 1137 after Yue Fei's report on the border defences.
National Palace Museum, Taipei · Mayers, The Chinese Reader's Manual (1874) · Emperor Gaozong of Song · Public domain
Yue Fei's own devotion to the war Qin Hui was trying to end made him,
in the chancellor's eyes, the single greatest obstacle to the peace he
wanted. Qin Hui had him removed to a lesser post first, and when that did
not silence him, engineered a formal accusation of treason against Yue Fei
and his son Yue Yun. Both men were committed to the state prison. Their trial
proved nothing but the falsity of the charge - and changed nothing. Despite
the protests of the statesman Han Shizhong and others at court, Qin Hui
secured an imperial mandate for Yue Fei's execution, and it was carried out.
What the verdict became
Chinese historians never forgave it. The act was met, in the judgment later
generations settled into, with what one nineteenth-century biographical
dictionary calls "the undying execration of historians and of the Chinese
people" - and the record's own treatment of the two men who made the
decision could not be more lopsided. In 1179 Yue Fei was posthumously
canonised; in 1204 he received the title Prince of E. Qin Hui's own name, by
contrast, became a byword in Chinese usage for any official willing to deal
too accommodatingly with a foreign power - a synonym still current centuries
after his death, reserved for exactly the kind of pragmatic peacemaking he
had believed, not unreasonably, was the only realistic policy available to
an exhausted state.
Qin Hui kneeling, an iron statue made under the Qing.
National Museum of China, Beijing · Mayers, The Chinese Reader's Manual (1874) · Gary Todd · CC0
The peace it was traded for
The peace Qin Hui achieved by removing Yue Fei came the following year, in
1141 - the Shaoxing treaty, in which Gaozong renounced Song's claim to the
lost north and agreed to an annual tribute in silk and silver to the Jin
court that had once held his own father captive. Whether that peace could
have been won without Yue Fei's death, or whether it needed to be won on
those terms at all, was exactly the argument the general's own execution
foreclosed - and the argument China's popular memory has never really
stopped having anyway, four generations of dynasties later, over which of
the two men actually served the country he claimed to be protecting.
Gaozong in a Song court portrait.
National Palace Museum, Taipei · Mayers, The Chinese Reader's Manual (1874) · Unknown · Public domain
No home, no money
asideDrafted from Giles, A History of Chinese Literature (1901)
Feng Dao served ten emperors across four dynasties in the fifty-three years
of chaos before 960, and described himself to a Liao court willing to employ
him anyway as a man with "no home, no money, and very little brains" — a
statement the Tartar monarch apparently found appealing enough to appoint him
grand tutor to the heir on the spot. Chinese tradition remembers him less
kindly, as a survivor who gave himself the sobriquet later English writers
would translate as "the Vicar of Bray." To foreign readers his more durable
claim is technical rather than moral: some crude form of block printing had
existed since early in the Tang, but it was Feng Dao who first put it to the
production of books. Six years after his death in 954, the Song took the
throne he had spent his whole career outlasting other dynasties to keep, and
printing from blocks became, for the first time, an ordinary trade.
What the printed word made possible
A literary class scattered by half a century of dynastic churn found itself,
almost as soon as the Song was founded, able to reproduce a text without
copying it out by hand — and Giles is explicit that the effect was immediate:
history, classical scholarship, general literature and poetry were "again
filled with enthusiastic workers," backed by a succession of rulers eager to
encourage them.
A Song printing block.
Kaifeng Museum · Giles, A History of Chinese Literature (1901) · Gary Todd · CC0
The first large project was a re-write of the Tang dynastic history from
scratch. A version already existed, compiled by a scholar of the Later Jin
named Liu Xu, but it was judged unsatisfactory on enough grounds that the
court commissioned a replacement rather than live with it — and the older
work, Giles notes, was never actually superseded: both still stand side by
side among the recognised dynastic histories today.
Ou-yang Xiu
The new commission went to Ou-yang Xiu and Song Qi together. Ou-yang Xiu had
been raised in poverty, taught to write with a reed by a mother who could not
afford better, and by fifteen was already attracting notice for his ability;
he placed first among the candidates for the highest examination degree. His
public career was turbulent, because he kept taking the position he believed
correct without much regard for what it cost him — a habit that produced
repeated friction with the court he served. His private output, alongside the
dynastic history, ran to an exposition of the Book of Poetry, a study of
ancient inscriptions, anecdotes of his contemporaries, an elaborate treatise
on the peony, and poetry and essays without apparent end.
Ouyang Xiu in a later woodblock portrait.
Giles, A History of Chinese Literature (1901) · Unknown · Public domain
Song Qi's own career had its lighter moments. Giles records one occasion on
which, feeling the cold at an imperial gathering, he was offered a tippet by
about a dozen court ladies at once — and, unwilling to seem to favour any one
of them over the rest, chose to sit and shiver rather than accept from a
single hand.
Pages of a herbal printed from woodblocks in 1249 under the Southern Song.
Giles, A History of Chinese Literature (1901) · Unknown · Public domain
A principle, not a person
asideDrafted from Giles, The Civilization of China (1911)
The scholar who eventually settled how the Song's own philosophical output
would be read, for every dynasty that came after it, did not appear until
long after the dynasty's political and literary height had passed. Zhu Xi's
official career, between 1130 and 1200, was successful and his literary
output enormous, but Giles is explicit that his lasting importance rests on
something narrower than either: he re-read the Confucian canon and insisted,
against centuries of Han-dynasty interpretation accepted as settled, that the
same words could not mean one thing in one passage and something else in
another.
Zhu Xi's self-portrait, recut on a Qing stele.
Fujian Museum, Fuzhou · Giles, The Civilization of China (1911) · Gary Todd · CC0
A method, not a doctrine
The principle was almost aggressively simple — consistency, applied without
exception to a body of text that earlier commentators had been willing to
read two ways when it suited them. Its effect, Giles writes, was "magical."
From that date forward, the teachings of Confucius were understood, across
the whole of educated China, in the way Zhu Xi said they ought to be
understood — not because his readings were self-evidently correct, but
because the method that produced them refused to leave room for a
competitor.
What it cost the old God
The consequence Giles traces furthest is theological rather than literary.
The God in whom Confucius himself had believed, as the earliest form of the
written character for the word shows — a rough picture of a man — had been
personal, closer in kind to the God of the Psalms than to an abstraction.
Zhu Xi discarded that reading outright. The Chinese word for God, he
declared in the plainest terms available to him, meant nothing more than
"abstract right": a principle, not a person. He had passed briefly through
Buddhism as a young man, found it unsatisfying, and returned to Confucian
orthodoxy determined to exclude the supernatural from it as completely as he
had excluded it from his own belief. What he built to replace both the
old personal God and the foreign religion he had tried and rejected was a
moral system with no supernatural content left in it at all — a reading
that, Giles notes without much enthusiasm for it, has been accepted as the
correct one more or less ever since.
Zhu Xi worked and taught entirely within the reduced, southern state the
dynasty had become after 1127; the "magical" uniformity Giles describes was
still spreading through Chinese education, on his account, centuries after
Zhu Xi's own death and long after the Song itself was gone.
Four years at Xiangyang
contractionDrafted from Boulger, The History of China (1898)
The alliance that destroyed the Jin in 1234 lasted less than a year before
the two victors turned on each other, and the war that followed ran for four
decades before it finally reached Hangzhou.
An alliance neither side trusted
Song had joined the Mongols against the Jin for the oldest reason a weaker
power allies with a stronger one against a nearer enemy: a Jin envoy had
warned, accurately, that a Song court which let the Mongols finish off the
Jin unopposed would find itself next, but the temptation to see a
generations-old enemy destroyed outweighed the warning. The promised reward,
the restoration of Henan once the Jin fell, evaporated the moment victory was
won - Mongol garrisons simply stayed where they were, and when a proposal
to divide the province in two proved as unworkable as it sounds, both sides
understood the war that followed was not really about Henan at all.
The first wave, 1235
Ögödei put an army estimated at half a million men into three columns in
1235: one crossing from Shaanxi into Sichuan, two others striking into the
lower Yangtze provinces. The northern half of Sichuan fell within the year,
its garrison commander Kao Kia dying at his post at the town of Mien rather
than surrender it - but the Mongol force that took it also withdrew the way
it had come once the campaigning season ended, "a passing scourge" rather
than an occupation, and Song forces reoccupied what had been depopulated in
the meantime. Ögödei's own attention was elsewhere - the campaigns in Russia
and Hungary his nephew Batu was fighting interested him more than the slow
grinding war in the south - and for the rest of his reign the Song front
received little more than raids.
Xiangyang, 1268-1273
The decisive campaign waited for Kublai, and for a defector's advice on
where to strike. A renegade Song general convinced him that the war-city of
Xiangyang, paired across the Han river with its twin fortress Fanching,
was the single position whose fall would open both the river route and,
eventually, the Yangtze itself to Mongol shipping. In 1268 a Mongol army of
sixty thousand veteran troops, later reinforced, invested the two cities,
building an entrenched camp ten miles long and constructing their own war
fleet from nothing to contest the Han.
Xiangyang's governor, Lü Wenhuan, held for four years. His garrison had
provisions, by his own claim, for a decade; when the Mongols demanded
surrender he answered by threatening to drag their own renegade guide back
to his abandoned master in chains. In 1270, with the siege already three
years old, the Song commander at nearby Anlu, Li Tingzhi, gathered three
thousand volunteers and a convoy of supplies and ran the Mongol blockade by
river, breaking the chains strung across the Han and fighting through the
Mongol fleet while a second detachment under Zhang Shun held the enemy's
main force occupied for hours. The supply convoy reached Xiangyang to loud
celebration; Zhang Shun's own body was found floating past the walls days
later, the garrison's reminder that the siege itself had not lifted.
A second relief attempt under the same officers' companion, Zhang Gui,
ended the same way - a night run through the blockade, a fighting retreat
against overwhelming numbers once a deserter had warned the Mongols he was
coming, and a last stand with no survivors. The Mongol commander sent his
body back to Xiangyang under flag rather than keep it, whether from
admiration or calculated cruelty the record does not resolve; Lü Wenhuan had
it laid beside Zhang Shun's.
Persian siege engineers brought in for the purpose finally broke Fanching's
defenses with counterweight trebuchets capable of hurling stone at a scale
neither Chinese siege engine had matched; its garrison fought street to
street and chose suicide over surrender once resistance became hopeless.
With Fanching gone and no further relief coming from the corrupt chancellor
Jia Sidao, who had sent an incompetent general and then done nothing more,
Lü Wenhuan accepted terms and surrendered Xiangyang in 1273, entering
Mongol service himself after four years of holding the line for a court that
had largely abandoned him to it.
Mongol troops with a trebuchet, from a manuscript of Rashid al-Din's history of about 1307.
Boulger, The History of China (1898) · Unknown · Public domain
What the fall actually opened
Xiangyang's loss did what its capture was meant to do: it put the Han river,
and with it the approach to the Yangtze, in Mongol hands. Emperor Duzong's
own court, informed of the disaster, is recorded retreating further into
drink and indifference rather than reckoning with the minister whose neglect
had produced it. The war that followed moved quickly by the standard of the
four decades that preceded it - Hangzhou itself fell within six years of
Xiangyang's surrender, and the flight to the southern coast that ended at
Yamen was already, by 1273, the only road left open to a dynasty that had
just lost the river its last defensible line had depended on.
Yamen
endDrafted from Boulger, The History of China (1898)
By the end of 1276 the Song cause held nothing but a handful of districts in
Guangdong and Fujian, and even that shrank further the following winter when
the Mongol armies returned from campaigning against Kublai's rebellious
nephew Kaidu and drove the last Song forces off the mainland entirely,
leaving them nothing but their ships and a scatter of islands off the Canton
estuary. The reigning child emperor died in that extremity. A small,
resolute remnant of officers proclaimed another Song prince in his place —
a child given the name Tiping — in 1278, less as the start of a
recovery than, in Boulger's phrase, "the prelude to its fall."
The last harbour
The general Zhang Shijie took the boy and the fleet to a natural harbour on
an island called Yai, entered only on a favourable tide, and prepared as
best he could for a battle he knew was coming. When the Mongol fleet found
them there, the engagement was stubbornly contested, and there is little
doubt, Boulger writes, that not a single Song ship would have escaped at all
but for a heavy mist that fell over the battle and let Zhang Shijie break
out to sea with sixteen vessels behind him.
The emperor's own vessel had no such luck. Trapped in the press of battle, it
fell into Mongol hands. One of the Song's most loyal ministers, Lu Xiufu,
resolved in that moment to save what he could — not the dynasty, which was
plainly beyond saving, but its honour. He threw his own wife and children
into the sea, took the emperor in his arms, and jumped overboard with him.
Most of the remaining officers followed the same course rather than be
taken. Tiping, the last emperor of the Song, died that way, by drowning,
with his minister.
Lu Xiufu in a woodblock portrait printed in 1830.
Boulger, The History of China (1898) · Gu Yuanji · Public domain
What Zhang Shijie tried afterward
Zhang Shijie, still at sea with what was left of the fleet, learned of the
emperor's death and asked the boy's mother to name another Song prince to
succeed him. Grief proved stronger than the appeal to public duty; she threw
herself into the sea rather than be consoled, and no successor was named.
Zhang Shijie refused even then to treat the cause as finished. He sailed
south, was given refuge, ships and fresh troops by the ruler of Tonkin, and
returned within the year intending to seize Canton by surprise and reopen the
war — over the objections of his own followers, who judged, correctly, that
Kublai's power was by then too completely secured for a single squadron to
achieve anything but a local, temporary success before being ground down.
The renewed attack never happened. What ended the Song's last military
effort was not a battle but a storm that scattered the fleet before it could
strike, and Zhang Shijie drowned with it — the same sea that had taken the
emperor and his mother closing, within months, over the last man still
willing to fight in the dynasty's name. A Sung minister once asked, of the
army mustered to save the child emperor, "If Heaven has not resolved to
overthrow the Sungs, do you think that even now it cannot restore their
ruined throne?" Heaven, on the evidence Zhang Shijie's own death supplied,
had resolved exactly that.
Zhao Kuangyin, a general who had served the Later Zhou's own reunification campaigns, was proclaimed emperor by his troops on campaign and returned to the capital to take the throne without a fight.
A Mongol fleet destroyed the last Song squadron at Yamen and a minister carried the child emperor into the sea rather than surrender him. It was the first time the whole of China had been ruled from the steppe.
The shaded band is this polity’s span; the dark part of each bar is the stretch the two shared.
Derived from cited spans, not from a separate source. Where both spans are ranges and they meet only on the widest reading of each, the pair is listed as possible rather than resolved to one answer. Unlinked entries are here for scale and are not written up.
Extent
The historical-basemaps snapshots are world maps at fixed years, and none of the ones falling inside this polity's lifetime names it among the polities it draws.
Rating
Four axes, all computed from cited numbers and never from editorial judgement. Percentiles are against every polity written up here — 419 of them — plus 49 more included for scale. Absolute figures. A missing axis is excluded from the total rather than counted as zero.
Reach
3,100,000 km²
42nd percentile
Longevity
319 years
69th percentile
Demographic weight
No cited figure
Influence
Three separate counts. This site never publishes a single influence number of its own; the sliders on the rankings view fuse them only in your view.
Descendant scripts
0
Religions carried
0
Successor claims
0
Weighted total
50th percentile
computed from 3 of 4 axes, renormalised across the axes that have figures. A polity with two documented axes is not penalised against one with four.