MA TʻENG SERVES HIS COUNTRY WELL:
TSʻAO TSʻAO AVENGES HIS FATHER’S MURDER.
In the last chapter the two arch rebels proposed to murder the Emperor
Hsien, but their followers Chang and Fan opposed this.
“No; the people will not approve of his death now. Restore him to power
and get the leaguers inside the gates. Remove his supporters and then
we can compass his death. And we shall be able to do what we wish.”
So they ceased the attack. The Emperor again spoke from the tower,
saying, “Why do you still remain? You have slain Wang Yün now withdraw
these soldiers.”
Then Li and Kuo replied, “Your servants desire rank us a reward for
their good service to your dynasty.”
“And what rank, Sirs?”
All four wrote their wishes and handed them up to the Emperor who had
no choice but to accede to the request and they were created “Generals”
(Chiang-chün) and received ranks of nobility and thereupon they went
away and camped at Ssŭnung. The inferior leaders also were gratified
with ranks. And once more the capital was free of troops.
Tung Cho’s followers having so far succeeded did not forget their late
leader. They sought his corpse for burial, but only a few fragments
were discoverable. Then they graved an image of fragrant wood in his
likeness, laid that out in proper form and instituted a noble’s
sacrifices and prayers. The remains were dressed in the robes of a
prince laid in a princely coffin for burial. They selected Meiwu for
his tomb and having found an auspicious day conveyed the coffin
thither.
But a terrific thunder storm came on at the time of inhumation and the
ground was flooded. The coffin was riven asunder and the poor remains
thrown out. A second time they buried the coffin, but a similar thing
happened in the night. And yet a third time in another place but the
earth rejected the remains. Meanwhile the thunder-fire had entirely
consumed them. So it may be said justly that Heaven was exceeding angry
with Tung Cho.
So now Li Tsʻui and Kuo Ssŭ wielded the real power of the sceptre and
they were hard upon the people. They also removed the attendants from
the palace and replaced them by their own creatures, who maintained a
most perfect watch over every movement of the Emperor so that he was
greatly hampered and embarrassed. All appointments were made by the
late rebels. For the sake of popularity they especially summoned Chu
Chien to court, made him a High Chamberlain and associated him with the
government.
One day came a report that Ma Tʻêng, the Prefect of Hsiliang, and Han
Sui, with ten legions, were rapidly approaching the capital with the
intention of attacking the rebels.
Now these men from the west had laid careful plans. They had sent
trusty friends to the capital to find out who would support them. They
had conspired with three officials to be their inside allies and plot
against the rebels. These three obtained from the throne two secret
edicts conferring the ranks of Commander, “Conqueror of the West,” on
Ma Tʻêng and Commander, “Warden of the West,” on Han Sui. With these
powers the two officials joined forces and began their march.
The four leaders of the party in power held a consultation as to how to
meet the attack. The adviser, Chia Hsü, said, “Since the attackers are
coming from a distance our plan is to fortify and wait till shortage of
food shall work for us. In a hundred days their supplies will be
consumed and they must retire. We can pursue and we shall capture
them.”
Li Mêng and Wang Fang rose and said, “This plan is bad. Give us a
legion and we will put an end to both of them and offer their heads
before your ensign.”
“To fight forthwith means defeat,” said the adviser.
The other two cried with one voice, “If we fail we are willing to lose
our heads, but if we win then your head is forfeit.”
Chia Hsü then said, “Two hundred li west of the capital stand the
Chouchih Hills. The passes are narrow and difficult. Send Generals
Chang and Fan to occupy this point of vantage and fortify themselves so
that they may support Li and Wang.”
Li Tsʻui and Kuo Ssŭ accepted this advice. They told off a legion and a
half of horse and foot and Li and Wang left. They made a camp two
hundred and eighty li from Chʻangan.
The force from the west arrived and the two officers led out their men
to the attack. They found their opponents in battle array. The two
leaders, Ma Tʻêng and Han Sui, rode to the front side by side. Pointing
to the rebel leaders they abused them, calling them traitors and asking
who would capture them.
Hardly were the words spoken when there came out a youth with a clear,
white complexion, eyes like shooting stars, lithe of body and strong of
limb. He was armed with a long spear and bestrode an excellent steed.
This young leader was Ma Chʻao, son of Ma Tʻêng, then seventeen years
of age.
Though young he was valiant and skilful. Wang Fang, despising him on
account of his youth, galloped forth to fight him. Before they had
exchanged many passes Wang Fang was disabled and fell to a thrust of
the young man’s spear. The victor turned to retire into the formation,
but Li Mêng rode after him to avenge his fallen colleague. Ma Chʻao did
not see him, but his father called out “You are followed!” Hardly had
he spoken when he saw that the pursuer was a prisoner seated on his
son’s steed.
Now Ma Chʻao had known he was followed, but pretended not to see,
waiting till his enemy should have come close and lifted his spear to
strike. Then he suddenly wheeled about. The spear thrust met only empty
air, and as the horses passed Ma Chʻao’s powerful arm shot out and
pulled Wang Fang from the saddle. Thus the soldiers were left
leaderless and fled in all directions. The army dashed in pursuit and a
complete victory was scored. They pressed into the pass and made a
camp. They decapitated Li Mêng and exposed his head.
When Li Tsʻui and Kuo Ssŭ heard that both the boastful captains had
fallen under the hand of one young man they knew that Chia Hsü had
given good advice and was gifted with clear prescience. So they valued
his plans the more highly and decided to act on the defensive. They
refused all challenges to combat.
Surely enough after a couple of months the supplies of the Hsiliang men
were all exhausted and the leaders began to consider retreat.
Just at this juncture a household servant of Ma Yü’s family betrayed
his master and told of the conspiracy of the three men to assist the
attackers. The two chief rebels in revenge seized the three
conspirators, with every member of their households, and beheaded them
in the market place. The heads of the three were exposed at the gate.
Being short of food and hearing of the destruction of their three
adherents in the city, the only course for Ma and Han was to retreat.
At once Chang Chi went in pursuit of Ma Tʻêng and Fan Chʻou followed
Han Sui. The retreating army under Ma was beaten and only by Ma Chʻao’s
desperate efforts were the pursuers driven off.
Fan Chʻou pursued the other army and when he had come close Han Sui
rode boldly up and addressed him, saying “You and I, Sir, are fellow
villagers. Why then behave so unfriendly?”
Chʻou replied, “I must obey the commands of my chief.”
“I am here for the service of the State; why do you press me so hard?”
said Han.
At this Fan Chʻou turned his horse, called in his men and left him in
peace. Unwittingly a nephew of Li Tsʻui had been a witness of this
scene and when he saw the enemy allowed to go free he returned and told
his uncle. Angry that his enemy had escaped, Li would have wreaked
vengeance on his lieutenant, but his adviser again came in saying it
was dangerous to provoke another war. He proposed inviting the
defaulting officer to a banquet and, while the feast was in progress,
executing him for dereliction of duty. This seemed good to Li so the
banquet was prepared. The two officers accepted their invitations and
went cheerfully. Toward the latter part of the entertainment a sudden
change came over their host and he suddenly asked Fan Chʻou, “Why have
you been intriguing with Han Sui? You are turning traitor, eh?”
The unhappy guest was taken aback and before he could frame his words
to reply he saw the assassins rush out with swords and axes. In a
moment all was over and his head lay beneath the table.
Scared beyond measure his fellow-guest grovelled on the floor. “He was
a traitor,” said the host, raising him by the arm, “and he has his
deserts; you are my friend and need not fear.”
He gave Chang Chi command of the murdered man’s troop with which he
returned to Hungnung. No one of the nobles among the leaguers dared
attempt an attack on the party newly risen from Tung Cho’s
disaffection, while on the other hand Chia Hsü never ceased to urge his
masters to exert themselves for the welfare of the people and thus to
tempt wise men to join them. And by these means the government began to
prosper.
However, a new trouble arose in the shape of a resurgence of Yellow
Turbans. They came, without apparent head or leader, in large numbers
and plundered any place they reached. Chu Chien said he knew of one who
could destroy this sedition, and when asked who was the man he proposed
he said, “You want to destroy this horde of rebels; you will fail
unless you get the services of Tsʻao Mêng-tê.”
“And where is he?” asked Li Tsʻui.
“He is Prefect of Tung Chün. He has a large army and you have only to
order him to act; the rising will be broken.”
A messenger went post haste with a command for Tsʻao Tsʻao and Pao Hsin
to act together in quelling the rebellion. As soon as Tsʻao Tsʻao
received the court command he arranged with his colleague first to
attack the rebels at Shouyang. Pao Hsin made a dash right into their
midst, inflicting damage wherever he could, and Tsʻao Tsʻao pursued
them as they fled. So many surrendered. Then he put his quondam enemies
in the van and when his army reached any place many more surrendered
and joined him. After three months of these tactics they had won over
many thousands, both of soldiers and ordinary folk.
Of these new adherents the strongest and boldest were made soldiers and
the others were sent home to their fields. In consequence of these
successes Tsʻao Tsʻao’s prestige and fame became very great and
increased daily. He reported his success to the capital and was
rewarded with the title of Commander, “Warden of the East.”
At his headquarters in Yenchow Tsʻao Tsʻao welcomed wise counsellors
and bold warriors, and many gathered around him. Two clever men, uncle
and nephew, came at the same time, both Yingchow men, named Hsün Yü and
Hsün Yu. The uncle had once been in the service of Yüan Shao. Tsʻao
Tsʻao rejoiced when he had won the elder Hsün to his side saying he was
his teacher. The nephew was famed for his ability and had been in the
court service but had abandoned that career and retired to his village.
The uncle said to Tsʻao Tsʻao, “There is a certain wise man of Yenchow
somewhere, but I do not know in whose service he is.”
“Who is he?”
“Chʻêng Yü; he belongs to the eastern district.”
“Yes; I have heard of him,” said Tsʻao. So a messenger was sent to his
native place to enquire. He was away in the hills engaged in study, but
he came at Tsʻao Tsʻao’s invitation.
“I shall prove unworthy of your recommendation,” said he to his friend
Hsün, “for I am rough and ignorant. But have you forgotten a fellow
villager of yours, Kuo Chia? He is really able. Why not spread the net
to catch him?”
“I had nearly forgotten,” said Hsün Yü suddenly. So he told his master
of this man, who was at once invited. Kuo, discussing the world at
large with his master, spoke in high terms of one Liu Yeh; and when he
had arrived he was the means of inviting two more, Man Chʻung and Lü
Chʻien, who were already known to Tsʻao Tsʻao by reputation. These two
brought to their new master’s notice the name of Mao Chieh, who also
came and was given office. Then a famous leader, with his troop of some
hundreds, arrived to offer service. This was Yü Chin of Tʻaishan, an
expert horseman and archer, and skilled beyond his fellows in every
form of military exercise. He was made an army inspector.
Then another day Hsiahou Tun brought a really fine, handsome fellow to
present to Tsʻao Tsʻao.
“Who is he?” asked Tsʻao.
“He is from Chʻên-liu and is named Tien Wei. He is the boldest of the
bold, the strongest of the strong. He was one of Chang Mo’s men, but
quarrelled with his tent companions and killed a lot of them with his
fists. Then he fled to the mountains where I found him. I was out
shooting and saw him follow a tiger across a stream. I persuaded him to
join my troop and I recommend him.”
“I see he is no ordinary man,” said Tsʻao. “He is handsome and straight
and looks very powerful and bold.”
“He is. He killed a man once to avenge a friend and carried his head
through the whole market place. Hundreds saw him, but dared not come
near. The weapon he uses now is a two-branched spear over a hundred
pounds in weight, and he vaults into the saddle with this under his
arm.”
Tsʻao Tsʻao bade the man give proof of his skill so he galloped to and
fro carrying the spear. Then he saw away among the tents a huge banner
swaying dangerously with the force of the wind and on the point of
falling. A crowd of soldiers were vainly struggling to keep it steady.
Down he leaped, shouted to the men to clear out and held the staff
quite steady with one hand, keeping it perfectly upright in spite of
the strong wind.
“This is old Wu Lai again,” said Tsʻao Tsʻao. He gave the strong man a
post in the army and besides made him presents of an embroidered robe
and a swift steed with a handsome saddle.
Thus Tsʻao Tsʻao encouraged able men to assist him and he had advisers
on the civil side and valiant captains in the army. He became famous
through all Shantung.
Tsʻao’s father, Sung, was living at Langya, whither he had gone as a
place free from the turmoil of the partizan struggles and, as a dutiful
son, Tsʻao sent the Prefect of Tʻaishan to escort his father to
Yenchow. The old man read the letter with joy and the family prepared
to move. They were some forty in all, with a train of a hundred
servants and many carts.
Their road led through Hsüchou where the Prefect, Tʻao Chʻien, was a
sincere and upright man who had long wished to get on good terms with
Tsʻao Tsʻao but, hitherto, had found no means of effecting a bond of
union. Hearing that the family of the great man was passing through his
district he went to welcome them, treated them with great cordiality,
feasting and entertaining them for two days, and when they left he
escorted them to his boundary. Further he sent with them one Chang Kʻai
with a special escort.
The whole party reached Huafei. It was the end of summer, just turning
into autumn, and at this place they were stopped by a tremendous storm
of rain. The only shelter was an old temple and thither they went. The
family occupied the main rooms and the escort the two side wings. The
men of the escort were drenched, angry and discontented. The leader
called some of his petty officers to a secret spot and said, “We are
old Yellow Turbans and only submitted to Tʻao because there was no help
for it. We have never got much out of it. Now here is the Tsʻao family
with no end of gear and we can be rich very easily. We will make a
sudden onslaught to-night at the third watch and slay the whole lot.
Then we shall have plenty of treasure and we will get away to the
mountains.”
They all agreed. The storm continued into the night and as Tsʻao Sung
sat waiting anxiously for signs of clearing he suddenly heard a hubbub
at the west end of the temple. His brother Tsʻao Tê, drawing his sword,
went out to see what it was about and was at once cut down. Tsʻao Sung
seized one of the concubines by the hand, rushed with her through the
passage toward the back of the temple so that they might escape. But
the lady was stout and could not get through the narrow doors so the
two hid in one of the small outhouses at the side. However, they were
seen and slain.
The unhappy Prefect fled for his life to Yüan Shao. The murderers fled
into Huainan with their plunder after having set fire to the old
temple.
Tsʻao Tsʻao, whom the ages praise,
Slew the Lüs in former days;
Nemesis ne’er turns aside,
Murdered too his family died.
Some of the escort escaped and took the evil tidings to Tsʻao Tsʻao.
When he heard it he fell to the earth with a great cry. They raised
him. With set teeth he muttered, “His men have slain my father: no
longer can the same sky cover us. I will sweep Hsüchou off the face of
the earth. Only thus can I satisfy my vengeance.”
Leaving one small army to guard the east he set forth with all the
remainder to destroy Hsüchou and avenge his father.
Now the Prefect of Kiukiang was a close friend of Tʻao Chʻien. Hearing
Hsüchou was threatened he set out with half a legion to his friend’s
aid. Tsʻao sent Hsiahou Tun to cut him off while still on the march. At
this time Chʻên Kung was in office in the east and he was also on
friendly terms with Tʻao. Hearing of Tsʻao’s design to destroy the
whole population he came in haste to see his former companion. Tsʻao
knowing his errand put him off at first and would not see him. But he
could not forget the kindness he had formerly received and presently
the visitor was called to his tent.
Chʻên Kung said, “They say you go to avenge your father’s death on
Hsüchou, to destroy its people. I have come to say a word. The Prefect
is humane and a good man. He is not looking out for his own advantage,
careless of the means and of others. Your worthy father met his unhappy
death at the hands of Chang Kʻai. Tʻao Chʻien is guiltless. Still more
innocent are the people and to slay them would be an evil. I pray you
to think over it.”
Tsʻao retorted angrily, “You once abandoned me and now you have the
impudence to come to see me! Tʻao Chien slew my whole family and I will
tear his heart out in revenge. I swear it. You may speak for your
friend and say what you will. I shall be as if I heard not.”
Intercession had failed. He sighed and took his leave. “Alas! I cannot
go to Tʻao and look upon his face.” So he rode off to the Chʻên-liu
district.
Tsʻao Tsʻao’s army of revenge laid waste whatever place it passed
through, slaying the people and desecrating their cemeteries.
When Tʻao Chʻien heard the terrible tidings he looked up to heaven
saying, “I must be guilty of some fault before Heaven to have brought
this evil upon my people.” He called together his officials to consult.
One of them, Tsʻao Pao, said, “Now the enemy is upon us, we cannot sit
and await death with folded hands. I for one will help you to make me a
fight.”
The army went out. From a distance the enemy spread abroad like hoar
frost and rushed far and wide like snow. In their midst was a large
white flag and oh both sides was written “Vengeance.”
When he had ranged his men Tsʻao Tsʻao rode out dressed in mourning
white and abused Tʻao Chʻien. But Tʻao advanced and from beneath his
ensign bowed low and said, “I wished to make friends with you,
Illustrious Sir, and so I sent Chang Kʻai to escort your family. I knew
not that his rebel heart was still unchanged. The fault does not lie at
my door as you must see.”
“You old fool, you killed my father and now you dare to mumble this
nonsense,” said Tsʻao Tsʻao. And he asked who would go out and seize
him.
Hsiahou Tun undertook this service and rode out. The Prefect fled to
the inner portion of his array and as Hsiahou Tun came on Tsʻao Pao
went to meet him. But just as the two horses met a hurricane burst over
the spot and the flying dust and pebbles threw both sides into the
utmost confusion. Both drew off.
The Prefect retired into the city and called his officers to council.
“The force against us is too strong,” said he. “I will give myself up
as a prisoner and let him wreak his vengeance on me. I may save the
people.”
But a voice was heard saying, “You have long ruled here and the people
love you. Strong as the enemy are they are not necessarily able to
break down our walls, especially when defended by you and your people.
I have a scheme to suggest that I think will make Tsʻao Tsʻao die in a
place where he will not find burial.”
These bold words startled the assembly and they eagerly asked what the
scheme was.
Making overtures for friendship he encountered deadly hate,
But, where danger seemed most threatening, he discovered safety’s
gate.
The next chapter will disclose who the speaker was.