Chongzhen Emperor - Early Years

Early Years

Born Zhu Youjian (Wade-Giles: Chu Yu-chien; Chinese: 朱由檢), Chongzhen was the fifth son of Zhu Changluo, the Taichang Emperor. His mother Lady Liu was a humble concubine of the Taichang Emperor. When he was four years old, she was killed by Zhu Changluo in his anger and anxiety, reason kept unknown. She was buried secretly, and Zhu Youjian was adopted by Consort Kang, some years later transferred to Consort Zhuang, as Consort Kang gave birth to another princess and adopted Zhu Youxiao as well.

As such, he grew up in a relatively lonely but quiet environment, since most of the younger sons were left out of the power struggle that their elder brother the Tianqi Emperor had to endure. Chongzhen succeeded his brother to the throne at age 17 and immediately eliminated the eunuch Wei Zhongxian and Madame Ke, who had become de facto rulers of the empire.

Chongzhen tried to rule by himself and did his best to salvage the dynasty. However, years of internal corruption and an empty treasury made it almost impossible to find capable ministers to fill important government posts. Chongzhen also tended to be suspicious of the few skilled subordinates he did have, executing the famous general Yuan Chonghuan, who had almost single-handedly maintained the northern frontier against the Manchus, in 1630.

Read more about this topic:  Chongzhen Emperor

Famous quotes containing the words early and/or years:

    “Love is the hardest thing in the world to write about. So simple. You’ve got to catch it through details, like the early morning sunlight hitting the gray tin of the rain spout in front of her house. The ringing of a telephone that sounds like Beethoven’s “Pastoral.” A letter scribbled on her office stationery that you carry around in your pocket because it smells of all the lilacs in Ohio.”
    —Billy Wilder (b. 1906)

    “I was able to believe for years that going to Madame Swann’s was a vague chimera that I would never attain; after having passed a quarter of an hour there, it was the time at which I did not know her which became to me a chimera and vague, as a possible destroyed by another possible.”
    —Marcel Proust (1871–1922)