TSʻAO TSʻAO OVERCOMES YÜAN SHAO:
LIU PEI SEEKS SHELTER WITH LIU PIAO.
Tsʻao lost no time in taking advantage of Yüan Shao’s flight, but smote
hard at the retreating men. Yüan Shao without helmet or proper dress,
and with few followers, crossed hastily to the north bank at Liyang. He
was met by his General, Chiang I-chu, who took him in and comforted him
and listened to the tale of misfortunes. Next Chiang called in the
scattered remnants of the army, and when the soldiers heard that their
old lord was alive they swarmed to him like ants so that he quickly
became strong enough to attempt the march to Chʻichou. Soon the army
set out and at night halted at Huang Hills.
That evening, sitting in his tent, Shao seemed to hear a far off sound
of lamentation. He crept out quietly to listen and found it was his own
soldiers telling each other tales of woe. This one lamented an elder
brother lost, that one grieved for his younger brother abandoned; a
third mourned a companion missing, a fourth, a relative cut off. And
each beat his breast and wept. And all said, “Had he but listened to
Tʻien Fêng we had not met this disaster.”
And Yüan Shao, very remorseful, said, “I did not hearken unto Tʻien
Fêng and now my men have been beaten and I was nearly lost. How can I
return and look him in the face?”
Next day the march was resumed and he met Fêng Chi with reinforcements,
to whom he said, “I disregarded Tʻien Fêng’s advice and have brought
myself to defeat. Now shall I be greatly ashamed to look him in the
face.”
This tribute to Tʻien Fêng’s prescience roused the jealousy of Fêng
Chi, who replied, “Yes; when he heard the news of your defeat, though
he was a prisoner, he clapped his hands for joy and said, ‘Indeed, just
as I foretold!’”
“How dare he laugh at me, the blockhead? Assuredly he shall die,” said
Yüan.
Whereupon he wrote a letter and sent therewith a sword to slay the
prisoner.
Meanwhile Tʻien’s gaoler came to him one day saying, “Above all men I
felicitate you.”
“What is the joyful occasion and why felicitate?” said Tʻien Fêng.
The gaoler replied, “General Yüan has been defeated and is on his way
back; he will treat you with redoubled respect.”
“Now am I a dead man,” said Tien.
“Why say you that, Sir, when all men give you joy?”
“The General appears liberal but he is jealous and forgetful of honest
advice. Had he been victorious he might have pardoned me; now that he
has been defeated and put to shame I may not hope to live.”
But the gaoler did not believe him. Before long came the letter and the
sword with the fatal order. The gaoler was dismayed, but the victim
said, “I knew all too well that I should have to die.”
The gaoler wept. Tʻien Fêng said, “An able man born into this world who
does not recognise and serve his true lord is ignorant. To-day I die,
but I am not deserving of pity.”
Whereupon he committed suicide in the prison.
Chü Shou but yesterday was killed,
Tʻien ends his life his fate fulfilled;
Hopei’s main beams break one by one,
Mourn ye that House! its day is done.
Thus died Tʻien Fêng, pitied of all who heard of his fate. When Yüan
Shao came home it was with troubled mind and distorted thoughts. He
could not attend to the business of government and became so ill that
his wife, who came of the Liu family, besought him to make his last
dispositions.
Now three sons had been born to him, Tʻan the eldest, who was commander
at Chʻingchou; Hsi, who ruled over Yuchou; and Shang, borne to him by
his second wife, who still lived. This youngest son was very handsome
and noble looking, and his father’s favourite. So he was kept at home.
After the defeat at Kuantu the lad’s mother was constantly urging that
her son should be named as successor and Shao called together four of
his counsellors to consider this matter. These four happened to be
divided in their sympathies, Shên Pʻei and Fêng Chi being in favour of
the youngest son, and Hsin Pʻing and Kuo Tʻu supporters of the eldest.
When they met to consult, Yüan Shao said, “As there is nought but war
and trouble outside our borders it is necessary that tranquillity
within be early provided for and I wish to appoint my successor. My
eldest son is hard and cruel, my second is mild and unfit. The third
has the outward form of a hero, appreciates the wise and is courteous
to his subordinates. I wish him to succeed, but I would that you tell
me your opinions.”
Kuo Tʻu said, “Tʻan is your first born and he is in a position of
authority beyond your control. If you pass over the eldest in favour of
the youngest you sow the seeds of turbulence. The prestige of the army
has been somewhat lowered and enemies are on our border. Should you add
to our weakness by making strife between father and son, elder and
younger brothers? Rather consider how the enemy may be repulsed and
turn to the question of the heirship later.”
Then the natural hesitation of Yüan Shao asserted itself and he could
not make up his mind. Soon came news that his sons, Tʻan and Hsi, and
his nephew, Kao Kan, were coming with large armies to help him and he
turned his attention to preparations for fighting Tsʻao Tsʻao.
When Tsʻao Tsʻao drew up his victorious army on the banks of the Yellow
River a certain aged native brought an offering of food and sauce to
bid him welcome. His venerable and hoary appearance led Tsʻao to treat
him with the highest respect and he invited him to be seated and said
to him, “Venerable Sir, what may be your age?”
“I am nearly a hundred,” replied the ancient.
“I should be very sorry if my men had disturbed your village,” said
Tsʻao.
“In the days of the Emperor Huan a yellow star was seen over by way of
Chʻu and Sung in the southwest. A certain man of Liaotung, Yin Kʻuei,
who was learned in astrology, happened to be passing the night here and
he told us that the star foretold the arrival in these parts, fifty
years hence, of a true and honest man from Lian and Pʻei. Lo! that is
exactly fifty years ago. Now Yüan Pên-chʻu is very hard on the people
and they hate him. You, Sir, having raised this army in the cause of
humanity and righteousness, out of pity for the people and to punish
crimes, and having destroyed the hordes of Yüan Shao at Kuantu, just
fulfil the prophecy of Yin Kʻuei and the millions of the land may look
now for tranquillity.”
“How dare I presume that I am he?” said Tsʻao with a smile.
Wine was served and refreshments brought in and the old gentleman was
sent away with presents of silk stuffs. And an order was issued to the
army that if any one killed so much as a fowl or a dog belonging to the
villagers he should be punished as for murder. And the soldiers obeyed
with fear and trembling while Tsʻao rejoiced in his heart.
It was told Tsʻao that the total army from the four prefectures under
the Yüan family amounted to twenty-three legions and they were camped
at Tsʻang-tʻing. Tsʻao then advanced nearer them and made a strong
camp.
Soon after the two armies were arrayed over against each other. On one
side Tsʻao rode to the front surrounded by his captains, and on the
other appeared Yüan Shao supported by his three sons, his nephew and
his officers.
Tsʻao spoke first, “Pên-chʻu, your schemes are poor, your strength is
exhausted, why still refuse to think of surrender? Are you waiting till
the sword shall be upon your neck? Then it will be too late.”
Yüan Shao turned to those about him saying, “Who dares go out?”
His son Shang was anxious to exhibit his prowess in the presence of his
father so he flourished his pair of swords and rode forth. Tsʻao
pointed him out to his officers and asked if any one knew him and they
replied that he was the youngest son. Before they had finished speaking
from their own side rode out one Shih Huan, armed with a spear. The two
champions fought a little while and suddenly Shang whipped up his
horse, made a feint and fled. His opponent followed. Yüan Shang took
his bow, fitted an arrow, turned in his saddle and shot at Shih Huan,
wounding him in the left eye. He fell from the saddle and died on the
spot.
Yüan Shao seeing his son thus get the better of his opponent, gave the
signal for attack and the whole army thundered forward. The onslaught
was heavy, but presently the gongs on both sides sounded the retire and
the battle ceased.
When he had returned to camp Tsʻao took counsel to find a plan to
overcome Yüan Shao. Then Chʻêng Yü proposed the plan of the Ten
Ambushes and persuaded Tsʻao to retire upon the river, placing men in
ambush as he went. Thus would Shao be inveigled into pursuit as far as
the river, when Tsʻao’s men would be forced to make a desperate stand
or be driven into the water.
Tsʻao accepted this suggestion and told off five companies to lie in
ambush on one side of the road of retreat and five on the other, while
Hsü Chu commanded the advanced front.
Next day the ten companies started first and placed themselves right
and left as ordered. In the night Tsʻao ordered the advanced front to
feign an attack on the camp, which roused all the enemy in all their
camps. This done Hsü Chu retreated and the Shao army came in pursuit.
The roar of battle went on without cessation and at dawn Tsʻao’s army
rested on the river and could retreat no farther. Then Tsʻao shouted,
“There is no road in front, so all must fight to the death.”
The retreating army turned about and advanced vigorously. Hsü Chu
simply flew to the front, smote and killed a half score captains and
threw Yüan Shao’s army into confusion. They tried to turn and march
back, but Tsʻao Tsʻao was close behind. Then the drums of the enemy
were heard and right and left there appeared a company, one pair of the
ambushed parties. Yüan Shao collected about him his three sons and his
nephew and they were enabled to cut their way out and flee. Ten li
further on they fell into another ambush and here many men were lost so
that their corpses lay over the country-side and the blood filled the
water courses. Another ten li and they met the third pair of companies
barring their road.
Here they lost heart and bolted for an old camp of their own that was
near, and bade their men prepare a meal. But just as the food was ready
to eat down came Chang Liao and Chang Ho and burst into the camp.
Yüan Shao mounted and fled as far as Tsʻang-tʻing, when he was tired
and his steed spent. But there was no rest, for Tsʻao came in close
pursuit. It seemed now a race for life. But presently Shao found his
onward course again blocked and he groaned aloud.
“If we do not make most desperate efforts we are all captives,” said
he, and they plunged forward. His second son and his nephew were
wounded by arrows and most of his men were dead or had disappeared. He
gathered his sons into his arms and wept bitterly. Then he fell into a
swoon. He was picked up, but his mouth was full of blood which ran
forth in a bright scarlet stream. He sighed saying, “Many battles have
I fought and little did I think to be driven to this. Heaven is
afflicting me. You had better return each to his own and swear to fight
this Tsʻao to the end.”
Then he bade Hsin Pʻing and Kuo Tʻu as quickly as possible follow Yüan
Tʻan to his district and prepare to give battle to the enemy lest he
should invade. Yüan Hsi was told to go to Yuchou and Kao Kan to
Pingchou.
So each started to prepare men and horses for repulsing Tsʻao Tsʻao.
Yüan Shao with his youngest son and the remnant of his officers went
away to Chʻichou and military operations were suspended for a time.
Meanwhile Tsʻao Tsʻao was distributing rewards to his army for the late
victory and his men were scouting all about Chʻichou. He soon learned
that Yüan Shao was ill and that his youngest son and Shên Pʻei were in
command of the city, while his brothers and cousin had returned each to
his own. Tsʻao’s advisers were in favour of a speedy attack. But he
objected, saying “Chʻichou is large and well supplied; Shên Pʻei is an
able strategist and it behoves me to be careful. I would rather wait
till the autumn when the crops have been gathered in so that the people
will not suffer.”
While the attack was being talked over there came letters from Hsün Yu
saying that Liu Pei was strengthening himself at Junan and, when he had
heard that Tsʻao was going to attack Chʻichou, he had said he would
take the opportunity to march on the capital. Wherefore the Minister
would do well to hasten homeward to defend it. This news disconcerted
Tsʻao Tsʻao. He left Tsʻao Hung in command on the river bank, with
orders to maintain the appearance of strength there, while he led the
main part of his army to meet the threatened attack from Junan.
It has to be said now that Liu Pei, his brothers and supporters, having
gone forth with the intention of attacking the capital, had reached a
point near Jang Hills when Tsʻao came upon them. So Liu Pei camped by
the hills and divided his army into three, sending his brothers with
one division each to entrench themselves south-east and south-west
respectively of the main body which he and Chao Yün commanded.
When Tsʻao came near, Yüan-tê beat his drums and went out to where
Tsʻao had already arrayed his men. Tsʻao called Liu Pei to a parley,
and when the latter appeared under his great standard, Tsʻao pointed
his whip at him and railed saying, “I treated you as a guest of the
highest consideration; why then do you turn your back on righteousness
and forget kindness?”
Yüan-tê replied, “Under the name of Minister you are really a rebel. I
am a direct descendant of the family and I have a secret decree from
the throne to take such offenders as you.”
As he said these words he produced and recited the decree which is
known as the “Girdle Mandate.”
Tsʻao grew very angry and ordered Hsü Chʻu to go out to battle, and, as
Liu Pei’s champion, out rode Chao Yün with spear ready to thrust. The
two warriors exchanged thirty bouts without advantage to either. Then
there arose an earth-rending shout and up came the two brothers,
Yün-chʻang from the south-east and Fei from the south-west. The three
armies then began a great attack, which proved too much for Tsʻao’s
men, fatigued by a long march, and they were worsted and fled. Yüan-tê
having scored this victory returned to camp.
Next day he sent out Chao Yün again to challenge the enemy, but it was
not accepted and Tsʻao’s army remained ten days without movement. Then
Chang Fei offered a challenge which also was not accepted. And Yüan-tê
began to feel anxious.
Then unexpectedly came news that the enemy had stopped a train of
supplies and at once Chang Fei went to the rescue. Worse still was the
news that followed, that an army had got in behind to attack Junan.
Quite dismayed, Yüan-tê said, “If this be true I have enemies in front
and rear and have no place to go.”
He then sent Yün-chʻang to try to recover the city and thus both his
brothers were absent from his side. One day later a horseman rode up to
say Junan had fallen, its defender Liu Pʻi was a fugitive and
Yün-chʻang surrounded. To make matters worse the news came that Chang
Fei, who had gone to rescue Kung Tu, was in like case.
Yüan-tê tried to withdraw his men, fearing all the time an attack from
Tsʻao Tsʻao. Suddenly the sentinels came in saying Hsü Chʻu was at the
camp gate offering a challenge, but no one dared accept it or go out.
They waited till dawn, and then Yüan-tê bade the soldiers get a good
meal and be ready to start. When ready the foot went out first, the
horsemen next, leaving a few men in the camp to beat the watches and
maintain an appearance of occupation.
After travelling a short distance they passed some mounds. Suddenly
torches blazed out and on the summit stood one who shouted, “Do not let
Liu Pei run away; I, the Minister, am here awaiting him.”
Liu Pei dashed along the first clear road he saw.
Chao Yün said, “Fear not, my lord, only follow me,” and setting his
spear he galloped in front opening a lane as he went. Yüan-tê gripped
his double sword and followed close. As they were winning through, Hsü
Chʻu came in pursuit and engaged Chao Yün, and two other companies bore
down as well. Seeing the situation so desperate Yüan-tê plunged into
the wilds and fled. Gradually the sounds of battle became fainter and
died away while he went deeper and deeper into the hills, a single
horseman fleeing for his life. He kept on his way till daybreak, when a
company suddenly appeared beside the road. Yüan-tê saw these men with
terror at first, but was presently relieved to find they were led by
the friendly Liu Pʻi. They were a company of his defeated men escorting
the family of their chief. With them also were Sun Chʻien, Chien Yung
and Mi Fang.
They told him that the attack on their city had been too strong to be
resisted and so they had been compelled to abandon the defence, that
the enemy had followed them and only Kuan’s timely arrival had saved
them.
“I do not know where my brother is,” said Liu Pei.
“All will come right if you will push on,” said Liu Pʻi.
They pushed on. Before they had gone far the beating of drums was heard
and suddenly appeared Chang Ho with a company of soldiers. He cried,
“Liu Pei, quickly dismount and surrender.”
Yüan-tê was about to retire when he saw a red flag waving from a
rampart on the hills and down came rushing another body of men under
Kao Lan. Thus checked in front and his retreat cut off, Yüan-tê looked
up to Heaven and cried, “O Heaven, why am I brought to this state of
misery? Nothing is left me now but death.” And he drew his sword to
slay himself.
But Liu Pʻi stayed his hand saying, “Let me try to fight a way out and
save you.”
As he spoke Kao Lan’s force was on the point of engaging his. The two
leaders met and in the third bout Liu Pʻi was cut down. Liu Pei at once
rushed up to fight, but just then there was sudden confusion in the
rear ranks of the opponents and a warrior dashed up and thrust at Kao
Lan with his spear. Kao Lan fell from his steed. The newcomer was Chao
Yün.
His arrival was most opportune. He urged forward his steed thrusting
right and left, and the enemy’s ranks broke and scattered. Then the
first force under Chang Ho came into the fight and the leader and Chao
Yün fought thirty or more bouts. However, this proved enough, for Ho
turned his horse away recognising that he was worsted. Yün vigorously
attacked, but was forced into a narrow space in the hills where he was
hemmed in. While seeking for some outlet they saw Yün-chʻang, Kuan
Pʻing and Chou Tsʻang, with three hundred men, coming along. Soon Chang
Ho was driven off and then they came out of the narrow defile and
occupied a strong position among the hills where they made a camp.
Yüan-tê sent Yün-chʻang for news of the missing brother, Chang Fei. He
had been attacked by Hsiahou Yüan, but had vigorously resisted, beaten
him off and followed him up. Then Yo Chin had come along and surrounded
Chang Fei. In this pass he was found by Yün-chʻang, who had heard of
his plight from some of his scattered men met on the way. Now they
drove off the enemy. The two brothers returned. Soon they heard of the
approach of a large body of Tsʻao Tsʻao’s army. Yüan-tê then bade Sun
Chʻien guard his family and sent him on ahead, while he and the others
kept off the enemy, sometimes giving battle and anon marching. Seeing
that Yüan-tê was retiring, Tsʻao Tsʻao let him go and left the pursuit.
When Yüan-tê collected his men he found they numbered only a thousand,
and this halting and broken force marched as fast as possible to the
west. Coming to a river they asked the natives its name and were told
it was the Han, and near it Yüan-tê made a temporary camp. When the
local people found out who was in the camp they presented flesh and
wine.
A feast was given upon a sandy bank of the Han. After they had drunk
awhile, Yüan-tê addressed his faithful followers, saying, “All you,
fair Sirs, have talents fitting you to be advisers to a monarch, but
your destiny has led you to follow poor me. My fate is distressful and
full of misery. To-day I have not a spot to call my own and I am indeed
leading you astray. Therefore I say you should abandon me and go to
some illustrious lord where you may be able to become famous.”
At these words they all covered their faces and wept. Yün-chʻang said,
“Brother, you are wrong to speak thus. When the great Founder of Han
contended with Hsiang Yü he was defeated many times, but he won at
Chiuli Hill and that achievement was the foundation of a Dynasty that
endured for four centuries. Victory and defeat are but ordinary events
in a soldier’s career and why should you give up?”
“Success and failure both have their seasons,” said Sun Chʻien, “and we
are not to grieve. Chingchou, which your illustrious relative, Liu
Piao, commands, is a rich and prosperous country. Liu Piao is of your
house, why not go to him?”
“Only that I fear he may not receive me,” said Liu Pei.
“Then let me go and prepare the way. I will make Liu Ching-hsing come
out to his borders to welcome you.”
So with his lord’s approval Sun Chʻien set off immediately and hastened
to Chingchou. When the genuflexions and ceremonies of greeting were
over Liu Piao asked the reason of the visit.
Said Sun, “The Princely Liu is one of the heroes of the day although
just at the moment he may lack soldiers and leaders. His mind is set
upon restoring the Dynasty to its pristine glory, and at Junan the two
commanders, Liu and Kung, though bound to him by no ties, were content
to die for the sake of his ideals. You, illustrious Sir, like Liu Pei,
are a scion of the Imperial stock. Now the Princely One has recently
suffered defeat and thinks of seeking a home in the east with Sun
Chung-mou (Sun Chʻüan). I have ventured to dissuade him, saying that he
should not turn from a relative and go to a mere acquaintance; telling
him that you, Sir, are well known as courteous to the wise and
condescending to scholars, so that they flock to you as the waters flow
to the east, and that certainly you would show kindness to one of the
same ancestry. Wherefore he has sent me to explain matters and request
your commands.”
“He is my brother,” said Piao, “and I have long desired to see him, but
no opportunity has occurred. I should be very happy if he would come.”
Tsʻai Mao, who was sitting by, here broke in with “No, no! Liu Pei
first followed Lü Pu, then he served Tsʻao Tsʻao, and next he joined
himself to Yüan Shao. And he stayed with none of these, so that you can
see what manner of man he is. If he come here Tsʻao Tsʻao will
assuredly come against us and fight. Better cut off this messenger’s
head and send it as an offering to Tsʻao Tsʻao, who would reward you
well for the service.”
Sun Chʻien sat unmoved while this harangue was pronounced, saying at
the end, “I am not afraid of death. Liu, the Princely One, is true and
loyal to the State and so out of sympathy with Lü Pu, or Tsʻao Tsʻao,
or Yüan Shao. It is true he followed these three, but there was no help
for it. Now he knows your chief is a member of the family, so that both
are of the same ancestry, and that is why he has come far to join him.
How can you slander a good man like that?”
Liu Piao bade Tsʻao Mao be silent and said, “I have decided and you
need say no more.”
Whereat Tsʻai Mao sulkily left the audience chamber.
Then Sun Chʻien was told to return with the news that Yüan-tê would be
welcome and Prefect Liu Piao went thirty li beyond his boundaries to
meet his guest. When Yüan-tê arrived he behaved to his host with the
utmost politeness and was warmly welcomed in return. Then Liu Pei
introduced his two sworn-brothers and friends and they entered
Chingchou, where Liu Pei finally was lodged in the Prefect’s own
residence.
As soon as Tsʻao Tsʻao knew whither his enemy had gone he wished to
attack Liu Piao, but Chʻêng Yü advised against any attempt so long as
Yüan Shao, the dangerous enemy, was left with power to inflict damage.
He advised return to the capital to refresh the men so that they might
be ready for a campaign in the mild spring weather.
Tsʻao accepted his advice and set out for the capital. In the first
month of the eighth year of the period “Established Tranquillity,”
Tsʻao Tsʻao once again began to think of war, and sent to garrison
Junan as a precaution against Liu Piao. Then, after arranging for the
safety of the capital, he marched a large army to Kuantu, the camp of
the year before.
As to Yüan Shao, who had been suffering from blood-spitting but was now
in better health, he began to think of measures against Hsütu, but Shên
Pʻei dissuaded him saying, “You are not yet recovered from the fatigues
of last year. It would be better to make your position impregnable and
set to improving the army.”
When the news of Tsʻao’s approach arrived, Yüan said, “If we allow the
foe to get close to the city before we march to the river we shall have
missed our opportunity. I must go out to repel this army.”
Here his son interposed, “Father, you are not sufficiently recovered
for a campaign and should not go so far. Let me lead the army against
this enemy.”
Yüan consented, and he sent to Chʻingchou and Yuchou and Pingchou to
call upon his other two sons and his nephew to attack Tsʻao Tsʻao at
the same time as his own army.
Against Junan they beat the drum,
And from Chʻichou the armies come.
To whom the victory will be seen in the next chapter.