A Princess Born into Turmoil

The early 17th century witnessed the rise of the Later Jin dynasty, the precursor to the Qing Empire, under the leadership of Nurhaci and his successor Hong Taiji (Emperor Taizong). Amidst this turbulent period of conquest and consolidation, one woman’s story stands out as a stark reminder of the brutal realities of court politics: Princess Mangguji, the third daughter of Nurhaci and sister to Hong Taiji.

Born to Nurhaci’s consort, the formidable Lady Fuca (also known as Gundai), Mangguji grew up in an environment marked by political ambition and familial strife. Her mother’s domineering personality and her elder brother Manggultai’s reckless temperament shaped her into a proud, assertive, and often impulsive woman—traits that would prove disastrous in the rigidly hierarchical world of the Manchu elite.

A Marriage of Convenience and Discontent

Like many royal women of her time, Mangguji’s fate was dictated by political expediency rather than personal happiness. Nurhaci initially sought to marry her to Menggebulu, the chieftain of the Hada tribe, a man nearly three decades her senior. This union was intended to solidify an alliance, but Nurhaci abandoned the plan when Menggebulu proved disloyal and was eventually executed for conspiring against him.

Instead, Mangguji was wed to Menggebulu’s son, Wu’ergudai—a man described as weak-willed and submissive. For over two decades, their marriage was one of quiet misery, devoid of affection or mutual respect. When Wu’ergudai died around the end of Nurhaci’s reign, Mangguji felt not grief but relief.

A Second Marriage and Deepening Resentment

Her brief respite ended when Hong Taiji, now emperor, arranged her remarriage to Suonumu Duleng, a chieftain of the Aohan Mongols who had recently submitted to Qing authority. This union was purely political: Hong Taiji sought to strengthen ties with the Mongols, many of whom had already married into the imperial family.

Mangguji’s second marriage was even more humiliating than the first. As a secondary wife in a household dominated by Duleng’s favored consort, she was treated with suspicion and hostility. Worse still, she became a pawn in Hong Taiji’s surveillance network, with Duleng viewing her as a spy. The marriage deteriorated into mutual distrust, leaving Mangguji isolated and embittered.

The Betrayal That Sealed Her Fate

Mangguji’s downfall came when two of the closest figures in her life betrayed her. First, her own husband, Duleng, reported her alleged disloyalty to Hong Taiji in a bid to secure his own position. Then, her household servant Leng Sengji accused her of conspiring with her brother Manggultai to overthrow the emperor.

The evidence—likely fabricated or exaggerated—was enough for Hong Taiji. Mangguji was arrested, isolated, and ultimately sentenced to death. Historical records suggest she was executed in a manner reserved for the gravest crimes: lingchi (death by a thousand cuts). She remains the only Qing princess in history to suffer such a public and brutal end.

The Purge of a Bloodline

Hong Taiji’s vengeance did not stop with Mangguji. Her brother Manggultai had already died under suspicious circumstances, and her other brother, Deglei, suddenly perished—reportedly from a mysterious illness that left him unable to speak.

Even Mangguji’s daughters were not spared. Her younger daughter, married to Hong Taiji’s son Hooge, was executed by her own husband to prove his loyalty. The elder daughter, wed to the nobleman Yoto, narrowly escaped death—only to commit suicide after Yoto’s untimely demise.

Legacy: A Warning Written in Blood

Mangguji’s tragic life underscores the ruthless nature of Qing succession politics. In an era where loyalty to the throne outweighed familial bonds, even a princess was not safe from the emperor’s wrath. Her story serves as a grim reminder of the costs of ambition, betrayal, and the precarious position of women in imperial power struggles.

Today, historians view Mangguji’s fate as emblematic of the Qing dynasty’s early consolidation—a period where unity was forged through blood and fear. Her name, once erased from official records, now stands as a haunting footnote in the grand narrative of China’s last imperial dynasty.