Perpetual Happiness
Page 16
when his father established the dynasty, Yongle knew he had to keep all of his ministers and advisors on a short and tight leash. In the final analysis, Yongle’s brutality and ruthlessness mixed with a moral tone and high ideals would make him the perfect absolutist monarch—a man who believed himself to be the one and only master of the entire world.
103
6 / The Years of Rehabilitation
Society and Economy, 1402–1421
After four years ofstrife and chaos, China’s economy was ruined and its society was on the brink of a meltdown when Emperor Yongle ascended the throne in 1402. The whole Huai River valley had su¤ered terribly from the civil war, and some parts of the North China Plain—in particular, the Beijing area—were nearly depopulated. Land, dikes, warehouses, granaries, and canals north of the Yangzi River were in a state of abandonment.
Huddled masses in previously prosperous counties, such as Shunde and Baoding, had no food or clothing. Tax collections for the year 1402 plunged to a fraction of the prewar figures, and at the same time there was a plethora of wandering peasants ( taomin) and wage arrears but too few craftsmen available for service. Moreover, several regions were bu¤eted by social unrest and destabilizing new religious-political movements.1 When Yongle first moved to Nanjing, he lacked the nimbus of respect and imperial majesty necessary to shape and rule the Ming empire. Ordinary people were still in a state of shock over Jianwen’s demise, while Yongle’s relationships with the local gentry and elites, many of whom had languished during the civil war, remained tenuous.
Even though Yongle had won the battle of succession, the battle of mind and heart had just begun. To deliver China from social and economic chaos, Yongle realized that he had to not only unveil an economic recovery package but also to smooth his relations with the gentry class, which had been ru›ed by recent violence.
China was a country of villages, and the bedrock of its social and fiscal system was the so-called lijia, or groups of ten families collectively sharing responsibilities in maintaining order, providing corvée and tribute materials for the government, and so on. In the Ming period, one thirtieth of all forest products and construction materials—including lumber, bamboo, hemp, limestone, iron, tung oil, reeds, and bricks—had to be deposited in state warehouses before they could be used by individuals or sold in the market. This custom was what 104
the years of rehabilitation
Ming fiscal parlance referred to as “extract and divide” ( choufen). A group of respectful elderly landlords called lilao was the linchpin of this self-managed program, as they were entrusted with the responsibilities of collecting taxes and tributes and overseeing corvée labor. They were also in charge of teaching the emperor’s subjects and holding conventions. In essence, they functioned as inter-mediaries between citizens and the government. To a great extent, therefore, the success or failure of Yongle’s rehabilitation program hinged upon his e¤ectiveness in winning the support of community leaders.
In order to win over the lijia elders, Yongle made known his intention of recruiting more civil bureaucrats from among the sons of the gentry class. He also granted clemencies and tax exemptions and took measures to reclaim land, repair irrigation projects and reservoirs, control the watercourses, and reforest devastated regions. All of these e¤orts, however, needed time to reach fruition. Yongle’s immediate concern was stopping the swirl of rumors, gossip, and speculation that fed public anxiety and deepened fears of reprisal. The most common rumors told of Jianwen’s escape to a remote mountain or foreign community and his preparation to return, or of the imminent coming of a bodhisattva—a Buddhist messiah—who would return as the Son of Heaven to avenge the terror and barbarism waged by Yongle’s army.2 Consequently, the urgent task for a “rebel emperor” was to calm the population and allay the fears of the general public. On August 4, 1402, eighteen days after proclaiming himself emperor, Yongle appointed twelve new circuit censors to the Censorate and sent them to the provinces to investigate and arrest any person who spread unfounded rumors that exacerbated the continuing social chaos.
On August 13 Yongle issued a proclamation, pledging not to harm innocent people and urging everyone to feel secure and resume work. He said he would treat his subjects like his own children and do everything in his power to protect them. However, if there were vicious rumors created solely to instigate public unrest or to undermine his authority, he wanted the people to report them to the government. If found guilty, the persons who started such rumors would be executed and their property given to the informers. Those who concealed knowledge of the origins of rumors would be deemed culpable and punished by death.3 But the realistic Yongle also realized that such a proclamation would not have much e¤ect on his generally illiterate subjects if the lijia elders refused to cooperate. In the final analysis, he had to rely upon the elders for spreading the imperial will to the populace as well as for the execution of his directives.
The proclamation, however, created an immediate backlash and a flood of false charges. Vindictive people who sought revenge against their neighbors or enemies went to the circuit censor’s o‹ce and brought wanton charges. So seri-105
the years of rehabilitation
ous was the disorder that, after only seven months, Yongle was forced to mod-ify his policy and discourage false accusations. He decreed that any person who brought false charges against three or four people would be whipped one hundred times and that those who brought charges against five or six people without iron-clad evidence would be whipped one hundred times and banished to the frontier. Those who were found guilty of serious perjury, such as bringing false charges against more than ten people, would be beheaded. Yongle’s changing orders tended to increase social confusion, but as months passed, the country’s confidence in his leadership swelled, and the circuit censors, with the assistance of the lijia elders, found it easier to deal with rumors and to apprehend the real enemies of the new regime. It is also likely that the permanent institutionalization of these o‹ces and their survival until the end of the Ming dynasty are attributable to the fine job done by the circuit censors during Yongle’s early rehabilitation campaign.4
Even though the circuit censors were personally selected by Yongle, they were usually accompanied by His Majesty’s eunuchs when they investigated crimes or wrongdoings in the provinces. During the summer of 1403, Yuan Gang was appointed a censor to investigate the surrounding area of Nanjing, and Zhu Liang, a supervising secretary, was to scrutinize both civil and military a¤airs in Zhejiang. Before Yuan and Zhu took on their “pacification and soothing”
missions, Yongle told them that they were his ears and eyes. However, on matters of importance, they needed to first consult with the emperor’s eunuchs and their escorts from the Embroidered-Uniform Guard. Those who harmed people, committed larceny, or took bribes were to be prosecuted accordingly, but conspiracy and other serious crimes were to be reported to the court for further review. The practice of involving the eunuchs in criminal investiga-tions, however, ultimately undermined the functioning of the Ming judiciary, which was characterized by constitutional ambiguity, because the eunuchs and the o‹cers from the Embroidered-Uniform Guard, who worked so closely with the emperor, could and often did fabricate incriminating evidence against the enemies of the emperor or their own personal enemies.
The tripod of the Ming judiciary, which Yongle applied to restore social order, consisted of the Censorate, the Ministry of Punishment, and the Court of Judicial Review (Dalisi). Generally, cases from local magistrates had to be ratified by successive reviews up the administrative hierarchy to the Ministry of Punishment. Cases from regional inspectors and O‹ces of Provincial Surveillance (Anchasi) were reviewed by the Censorate, whereas cases originating from military units were sent through the Five Chief Military Commissions at the capital. But all sentence records approved by the Ministry of Punishment, 106
the years of rehabilitation
the Censorate, and the Chief Military Co
mmissions had to be submitted to the Court of Judicial Review for final scrutiny. The court, functioning like the Supreme Court of the United States, would check the propriety of judicial findings and sentences. It could let stand the original sentence or return a case for retrial, but if the case involved the death penalty, the court always requested a decision by the emperor.5 In a flight of wrath, Yongle once ordered the execution of a grain intendant, only to regret his decision afterward. He said he had since learned from studying the example of the enlightened Tang emperor Taizong (Li Shimin) and took measures to rectify his punishment procedure.
From then on, unless a crime involved treason and the verdict had been reconfirmed without a shred of doubt, criminals were entitled to five reviews before they could be tortured for the purpose of extracting confessions.6
Recognizing human fallibility, Yongle was especially concerned about those who had power over those who did not. He seemed to believe that there was a link between cosmic forces and the conduct or misconduct of the ruler.
Consequently, whenever there were strange and disturbing happenings in the empire, such as plagues or natural disasters, Yongle surmised that someone in his government was unjustly holding innocent people in prison. Under such circumstances, he would personally review records of original charges, verdicts, trial records, and the propriety of judicial findings. That is why he frequently granted clemencies and the like, either reducing prisoners’ sentences or simply setting them free. But because of Yongle’s concern about possible miscarriage of justice, the judiciary o‹cials were mindful of reaching rash verdicts, so that many suspects were detained in prison for more than a year without having been convicted. As jail facilities could not accommodate the ever-increasing number of detainees, tragedy was bound to happen. An incident in 1411 in which more than 930 detainees died of starvation and cold within a month suggests that the judiciary system had already begun to veer o¤track.
Records show that state penitentiaries in Nanjing and Beijing were not well equipped to handle and incarcerate convicts serving lengthy jail terms, and indeed, feeding and caring for the inmates so confined had become a real burden for the government. Consequently, periodic paroles and furloughs became necessary, and occasional imperial pardons had the e¤ect of greasing the wheel of Ming criminal operations.7 On the other hand, Yongle seemed to enjoy doing this sort of thing, as he liked to revel in his image as a humane ruler.
While the presence of the censors and threats of punishment could identify rumor mills here and there and keep a lid on corrosive violence in the provinces, they alone could not restore peace and order; in particular, it was necessary also to quell the secret societies that sprang up from religious and political aspira-107
the years of rehabilitation
tions. Grinding poverty and excessive corvées revived various millenary movements that awaited the coming of the bodhisattva Maitreya, known in Chinese as Mile. Scarcely had Yongle been seated on the dragon throne than a native of Shaanxi named Gao Fuxing called himself a Mile, drawing his recruits mainly from the ranks of poor peasants. His followers, who were vegetarians, refused to pay taxes or perform corvée. In 1409 the religious leader Li Faliang also proclaimed himself a Mile and began an insurrection in Tanxiang County, Huguang. It soon spread to Jishui County, Jiangxi, and caused considerable turmoil. Nine years later, Liu Hua told his followers that he was the real Buddhist messiah and the true savior of humankind and should become the master of the whole world within a very short time.8 Both Li Faliang and Liu Hua clearly intended to spawn a revival of the armed religious mass movements that had proliferated in the 1350s, and Yongle was wary of them. Another religious charlatan was a Shandong woman named Tang Saier, who claimed to be the mother of all Buddhists. She was able to attract more than ten thousand faithful followers and ambushed one of Yongle’s regional commanders in early 1420. After the rebels were finally suppressed, Yongle ordered that all Buddhist nuns and female Daoists of the Northern Metropolitan Area (Shuntianfu) be brought to the capital for questioning. However, no one knew of Tang Saier’s whereabouts.9
Yongle had learned from history that secret societies, which had toppled several previous dynasties, were potentially very dangerous and had to be dealt with immediately and forcibly . However, because at the outset his erstwhile allies were outmanned and outgunned by hostile Jianwen loyalists, Yongle once again took audacious measures to turn his weakness into his strength. Beginning in August 1402 he dispatched a selective army of Jianwen’s former o‹cials to help him restore stability in the volatile regions, although he still saw these turncoats with jaundiced eyes and did not want to give them completely free rein.
In order to ensure that they had truly switched their allegiance and would earnestly march on his behalf, he also assigned his reliable eunuchs to escort each of them during the so-called “pacifying and soothing missions.”10
However, the emperor’s plans did not always go smoothly during the transi-tional period. For example, while Yangzhou had four prefects, Xuzhou and Taizhou had none. Such confusion often hampered Yongle’s early reconstruction e¤orts and tested his mettle.
The turncoat o‹cials whom Yongle sent to the provinces included Regional (Military) Commissioner He Qing, sent to Suzhou; Assistant Commissioner-in-Chief Zhao Qing, to Fengyang (in what is now Anhui); Vice-Commissioner-in-Chief Li Zengzhi, to Jingzhou and Xiangyang, Huguang; Vice-Commissioner-in-Chief Yuan Yu, to Sichuan and Yunnan; Marquis Wu Gao, to Henan 108
the years of rehabilitation
and Shaanxi; Regional Commander He Fu, to Ningxia and Shanxi; and Vice-Commissioner-in-Chief Han Guan, to Jiangxi, Fujian, and Guangdong.11
These commanding o‹cials walked an ine¤able line between Yongle and the enmity of the remaining diehard Jianwen loyalists. Although they were anxious to forge a new relationship with the appealing Yongle and did their best to bring peace and tranquility to their assigned regions, their authority was first truncated by Yongle’s ubiquitous eunuchs and finally taken away altogether. Several ended their careers in disgrace or death. For example, in 1404
Li Zengzhi and his brother, General Li Jinglong, were arrested and their property confiscated on embezzlement charges. Marquis Wu Gao, who declined to join Yongle’s northern expedition in 1410, was impeached and stripped of his nobility. He Fu, after winning Yongle’s favors and becoming a marquis, was later impeached and forced to commit suicide. Zhao Qing completed a brief but successful stint at Fengyang, but he, too, was stripped of his military command for self-aggrandizement.12
After judiciously removing these turncoats from their provincial commands, Yongle gradually filled the vacant posts with his own trustworthy lieu-tenants, those who had helped him win the civil war. In the ensuing years he sent Marquis Li Bin to Shaanxi; Earl Zhao Yi to Xuzhou; Vice-Commissioner-in-Chief Cao De to Dezhou; Regional Commissioner Li Ren to Zhangde, Henan; Regional Commissioner Fei Jin to Zhending (in what is now Hebei); Assistant Commissioners-in-Chief Shi Wen and Huang Xuan to Huaian; and Assistant Commissioner-in-Chief Ling Gao to Yangzhou (in what is now Jiangsu).13 He called these people his heart and bowels ( xinfu) and reminded them to discipline themselves, to obey the laws, and to love the people. Yongle told them that the secret of winning the mind of the people is to not harm the people’s pocketbooks, because “the money is where the mind is.”14 During the pacification campaign, the military o‹cers nonetheless figured more prominently than civil bureaucrats, and there were complaints about the arrogance and abuses of the “northern soldiers,” the Chinese version of carpetbaggers.
The more serious problems reportedly took place in Fujian, where military o‹cers often beat up civil bureaucrats. So serious were the disturbances that the Fujian circuit censor, Zhou Xin, requested that His Majesty personally intervene in the rehabilitation of his province.15
It was, however, the turncoat commanders who helped Yongle complete the initial pacification task, even though there still existed a few pockets of resistance that required the ne
w emperor’s guile and persuasion. In September 1402
the inhabitants in Luling Subprefecture, Jiangxi, armed themselves and found a livelihood in open banditry. The Jiangxi o‹cials asked Yongle to crush the 109
the years of rehabilitation
bandits immediately, but Yongle called for patience and persuasion. He personally drafted a decree and reread it approvingly before dispatching a messenger to Jiangxi. His decree said,
When my father started his career, it was south China that supplied him with resources and helped him stabilize the world. For more than three decades, the people were content with their lives. Unfortunately, Jianwen listened to evil advisors and started reforms, which in turn led to war and years of su¤ering. The burdens of all military expenditures were borne by the people. But the local o‹cials, who had no sympathy for the people, used underhanded tactics to extract revenues. Those who had no means of livelihood and no one to complain to clandestinely hid in the mountains and forests for survival. I understand your conditions and feel your pain.
Therefore, as soon as I ascended the throne, I granted you a general amnesty.
As the master of the world, I want to restore law and order and enjoy peace and stability with all of my people. At present, you have not yet returned to your assigned works but have continued to operate in banditry. Your local o‹cials requested that I send troops to arrest you. But because I couldn’t bear to see the innocent people getting hurt, I now send a messenger to deliver this decree to you. I hereby pardon your crimes and ask you to go back home and resume your work. . . . If you refuse this o¤er and continue to make trouble, the government will dispatch troops to bring you to justice.16