Myths of the Waters
The Dragons
The dragons are spirits of the waters. "The dragon is a kind of being
whose miraculous changes are inscrutable." In a sense the dragon
is the type of a man, self-controlled, and with powers that verge
upon the supernatural. In China the dragon, except as noted below,
is not a power for evil, but a beneficent being producing rain and
representing the fecundating principle in nature. He is the essence
of the _yang_, or male, principle. "He controls the rain, and so
holds in his power prosperity and peace." The evil dragons are those
introduced by the Buddhists, who applied the current dragon legends
to the _nagas_ inhabiting the mountains. These mountain _nagas_, or
dragons (perhaps originally dreaded mountain tribes), are harmful,
those inhabiting lakes and rivers friendly and helpful. The dragon,
the "chief of the three hundred and sixty scaly reptiles," is most
generally represented as having the head of a horse and the tail of a
snake, with wings on its sides. It has four legs. The imperial dragon
has five claws on each foot, other dragons only four. The dragon is
also said to have nine 'resemblances': "its horns resemble those of
a deer, its head that of a camel, its eyes those of a devil, its neck
that of a snake, its abdomen that of a large cockle, its scales those
of a carp, its claws those of an eagle, the soles of its feet those of
a tiger, its ears those of an ox;" but some have no ears, the organ of
hearing being said to be in the horns, or the creature "hears through
its horns." These various properties are supposed to indicate the
"fossil remnants of primitive worship of many animals." The small
dragon is like the silk caterpillar. The large dragon fills the Heaven
and the earth. Before the dragon, sometimes suspended from his neck,
is a pearl. This represents the sun. There are azure, scaly, horned,
hornless, winged, etc., dragons, which apparently evolve one out
of the other: "a horned dragon," for example, "in a thousand years
changes to a flying dragon."
The dragon is also represented as the father of the great emperors
of ancient times. His bones, teeth, and saliva are employed as a
medicine. He has the power of transformation and of rendering himself
visible or invisible at pleasure. In the spring he ascends to the
skies, and in the autumn buries himself in the watery depths. Some are
wingless, and rise into the air by their own inherent power. There is
the celestial dragon, who guards the mansions of the gods and supports
them so that they do not fall; the divine dragon, who causes the winds
to blow and produces rain for the benefit of mankind; the earth-dragon,
who marks out the courses of rivers and streams; and the dragon of the
hidden treasures, who watches over the wealth concealed from mortals.
The Buddhists count their dragons in number equal to the fish of the
great deep, which defies arithmetical computation, and can be expressed
only by their sacred numerals. The people have a more certain faith
in them than in most of their divinities, because they see them so
often; every cloud with a curious configuration or serpentine tail
is a dragon. "We see him," they say. The scattering of the cloud is
his disappearance. He rules the hills, is connected with _fêng-shui_
(geomancy), dwells round the graves, is associated with the Confucian
worship, is the Neptune of the sea, and appears on dry land.
The Dragon-kings
The Sea-dragon Kings live in gorgeous palaces in the depths of the
sea, where they feed on pearls and opals. There are five of these
divinities, the chief being in the centre, and the other four occupying
the north, the west, the south, and the east. Each is a league in
length, and so bulky that in shifting its posture it tosses one
mountain against another. It has five feet, one of them being in the
middle of its belly, and each foot is armed with five sharp claws. It
can reach into the heavens, and stretch itself into all quarters of
the sea. It has a glowing armour of yellow scales, a beard under its
long snout, a hairy tail, and shaggy legs. Its forehead projects over
its blazing eyes, its ears are small and thick, its mouth gaping,
its tongue long, and its teeth sharp. Fish are boiled by the blast of
its breath, and roasted by the fiery exhalations of its body. When it
rises to the surface the whole ocean surges, waterspouts foam, and
typhoons rage. When it flies, wingless, through the air, the winds
howl, torrents of rain descend, houses are unroofed, the firmament
is filled with a din, and whatever lies along its route is swept away
with a roar in the hurricane created by the speed of its passage.
The five Sea-dragon Kings are all immortal. They know each other's
thoughts, plans, and wishes without intercommunication. Like all the
other gods they go once a year to the superior Heavens, to make an
annual report to the Supreme Ruler; but they go in the third month,
at which time none of the other gods dare appear, and their stay
above is but brief. They generally remain in the depths of the ocean,
where their courts are filled with their progeny, their dependents,
and their attendants, and where the gods and genii sometimes visit
them. Their palaces, of divers coloured transparent stones, with
crystal doors, are said to have been seen in the early morning by
persons gazing into the deep waters.
The Foolish Dragon
The part of the great Buddha legend referring to the dragon is
as follows:
In years gone by, a dragon living in the great sea saw that his wife's
health was not good. He, seeing her colour fade away, said: "My dear,
what shall I get you to eat?" Mrs Dragon was silent. Just tell me and
I will get it," pleaded the affectionate husband. "You cannot do it;
why trouble?" quoth she. "Trust me, and you shall have your heart's
desire," said the dragon. "Well, I want a monkey's heart to eat." "Why,
Mrs Dragon, the monkeys live in the mountain forests! How can I get
one of their hearts?" "Well, I am going to die; I know I am."
Forthwith the dragon went on shore, and, spying a monkey on the top
of a tree, said: "Hail, shining one, are you not afraid you will
fall?" "No, I have no such fear." "Why eat of one tree? Cross the
sea, and you will find forests of fruit and flowers." "How can I
cross?" "Get on my back." The dragon with his tiny load went seaward,
and then suddenly dived down. "Where are you going?" said the monkey,
with the salt water in his eyes and mouth. "Oh! my dear sir! my wife
is very sad and ill, and has taken a fancy to your heart." "What
shall I do?" thought the monkey. He then spoke, "Illustrious friend,
why did not you tell me? I left my heart on the top of the tree;
take me back, and I will get it for Mrs Dragon." The dragon returned
to the shore. As the monkey was tardy in coming down from the tree,
the dragon said: "Hurry up, little friend, I am waiting." Then the
monkey thought within himself, "What a fool this dragon is!"
Then Buddha said to his followers: "At this time I was the monkey."
The Ministry of Waters
In the spirit-world there is a Ministry which controls all things
connected with the waters on earth, salt or fresh. Its main
divisions are the Department of Salt Waters, presided over by four
Dragon-kings--those of the East, South, West, and North--and the
Department of Sweet Waters, presided over by the Four Kings (_Ssu
Tu_) of the four great rivers--the Blue (Chiang), Yellow (Ho), Huai,
and Ch'i--and the Dragon-spirits who control the Secondary Waters, the
rivers, springs, lakes, pools, rapids. Into the names and functions of
the very large number of officials connected with these departments
it is unnecessary to enter. It will be sufficient here to refer only
to those whose names are connected with myth or legend.
An Unauthorized Portrait
One of these legends relates to the visit of Ch'in Shih Huang-ti,
the First Emperor, to the Spirit of the Sea, Yang Hou, originally
a marquis (_bou_) of the State Yang, who became a god through being
drowned in the sea.
Po Shih, a Taoist priest, told the Emperor that an enormous oyster
vomited from the sea a mysterious substance which accumulated in the
form of a tower, and was known as 'the market of the sea' (Chinese for
'mirage'). Every year, at a certain period, the breath from his mouth
was like the rays of the sun. The Emperor expressed a wish to see
it, and Po Shih said he would write a letter to the God of the Sea,
and the next day the Emperor could behold the wonderful sight.
The Emperor then remembered a dream he had had the year before in
which he saw two men fighting for the sun. The one killed the other,
and carried it off. He therefore wished to visit the country where
the sun rose. Po Shih said that all that was necessary was to throw
rocks into the sea and build a bridge across them. Thereupon he
rang his magic bell, the earth shook, and rocks began to rise up;
but as they moved too slowly he struck them with his whip, and blood
came from them which left red marks in many places. The row of rocks
extended as far as the shore of the sun-country, but to build the
bridge across them was found to be beyond the reach of human skill.
So Po Shih sent another messenger to the God of the Sea, requesting
him to raise a pillar and place a beam across it which could be used
as a bridge. The submarine spirits came and placed themselves at the
service of the Emperor, who asked for an interview with the god. To
this the latter agreed on condition that no one should make a portrait
of him, he being very ugly. Instantly a stone gangway 100,000 feet
long rose out of the sea, and the Emperor, mounting his horse, went
with his courtiers to the palace of the god. Among his followers was
one Lu Tung-shih, who tried to draw a portrait of the god by using
his foot under the surface of the water. Detecting this manoeuvre,
the god was incensed, and said to the Emperor: "You have broken your
word; did you bring Lu here to insult me? Retire at once, or evil will
befall you." The Emperor, seeing that the situation was precarious,
mounted his horse and galloped off. As soon as he reached the beach,
the stone cause-way sank, and all his suite perished in the waves. One
of the Court magicians said to the Emperor: "This god ought to be
feared as much as the God of Thunder; then he could be made to help
us. To-day a grave mistake has been made." For several days after
this incident the waves beat upon the beach with increasing fury. The
Emperor then built a temple and a pagoda to the god on Chih-fu Shan
and Wên-têng Shan respectively; by which act of propitiation he was
apparently appeased.
The Shipwrecked Servant
Once the Eight Immortals (see Chapter XI) were on their way to
Ch'ang-li Shan to celebrate the birthday anniversary of Hsien Wêng,
the God of Longevity. They had with them a servant who bore the
presents they intended to offer to the god. When they reached the
seashore the Immortals walked on the waves without any difficulty,
but Lan Ts'ai-ho remarked that the servant was unable to follow them,
and said that a means of transport must be found for him. So Ts'ao
Kuo-chiu took a plank of cypress-wood and made a raft. But when they
were in mid-ocean a typhoon arose and upset the raft, and servant
and presents sank to the bottom of the sea.
Regarding this as the hostile act of a water-devil, the Immortals said
they must demand an explanation from the Dragon-king, Ao Ch'in. Li
T'ieh-kuai took his gourd, and, directing the mouth toward the bottom
of the sea, created so brilliant a light that it illuminated the whole
palace of the Sea-king. Ao Ch'in, surprised, asked where this powerful
light originated, and deputed a courier to ascertain its cause.
To this messenger the Immortals made their complaint. "All we want,"
they added, "is that the Dragon-king shall restore to us our servant
and the presents." On this being reported to Ao Ch'in he suspected
his son of being the cause, and, having established his guilt,
severely reprimanded him. The young Prince took his sword, and,
followed by an escort, went to find those who had made the complaint
to his father. As soon as he caught sight of the Immortals he began
to inveigh against them.
A Battle and its Results
Han Hsiang Tzu, not liking this undeserved abuse, changed his flute
into a fishing-line, and as soon as the Dragon-prince was within reach
caught him on the hook, with intent to retain him as a hostage. The
Prince's escort returned in great haste and informed Ao Ch'in of
what had occurred. The latter declared that his son was in the wrong,
and proposed to restore the shipwrecked servant and the presents. The
Court officers, however, held a different opinion. "These Immortals,"
they said, "dare to hold captive your Majesty's son merely on account
of a few lost presents and a shipwrecked servant. This is a great
insult, which we ask permission to avenge." Eventually they won
over Ao Ch'in, and the armies of the deep gathered for the fray. The
Immortals called to their aid the other Taoist Immortals and Heroes,
and thus two formidable armies found themselves face to face.
Several attempts were made by other divinities to avert the conflict,
but without success. The battle was a strenuous one. Ao Ch'in received
a ball of fire full on his head, and his army was threatened with
disaster when Tz'u-hang Ta-shih appeared with his bottle of lustral
water. He sprinkled the combatants with this magic fluid, using a
willow-branch for the purpose, thus causing all their magic powers
to disappear.
Shui Kuan, the Ruler of the Watery Elements, then arrived, and
reproached Ao Ch'in; he assured him that if the matter were to
come to the knowledge of Shang Ti, the Supreme Ruler, he would not
only be severely punished, but would risk losing his post. Ao Ch'in
expressed penitence, restored the servant and the presents, and made
full apology to the Eight Immortals.
The Dragon in the Pond
One day Chang Tao-ling, the 'father of modern Taoism,' was on
Ho-ming Shan with his disciple Wang Ch'ang. "See," he said, "that
shaft of white light on Yang Shan yonder! There are undoubtedly
some bad spirits there. Let us go and bring them to reason." When
they reached the foot of the mountain they met twelve women who had
the appearance of evil spirits. Chang Tao-ling asked them whence
came the shaft of white light. They answered that it was the _yin_,
or female, principle of the earth. "Where is the source of the salt
water?" he asked again. "That pond in front of you," they replied,
"in which lives a very wicked dragon." Chang Tao-ling tried to force
the dragon to come out, but without success. Then he drew a phoenix
with golden wings on a charm and hurled it into the air over the
pond. Thereupon the dragon took fright and fled, the pond immediately
drying up. After that Chang Tao-ling took his sword and stuck it in
the ground, whereupon a well full of salt water appeared on the spot.
The Spirits of the Well
The twelve women each offered Chang Tao-ling a jade ring, and asked
that they might become his wives. He took the rings, and pressing
them together in his hands made of them one large single ring. "I
will throw this ring into the well," he said, "and the one of you
who recovers it shall be my wife." All the twelve women jumped into
the well to get the ring; whereupon Chang Tao-ling put a cover over
it and fastened it down, telling them that henceforth they should be
the spirits of the well and would never be allowed to come out.
Shortly after this Chang Tao-ling met a hunter. He exhorted him not
to kill living beings, but to change his occupation to that of a
salt-burner, instructing him how to draw out the salt from salt-water
wells. Thus the people of that district were advantaged both by being
able to obtain the salt and by being no longer molested by the twelve
female spirits. A temple, called Temple of the Prince of Ch'ing Ho,
was built by them, and the territory of Ling Chou was given to Chang
Tao-ling in recognition of the benefits he had conferred upon the
people.
The Dragon-king's Daughter
A graduate named Liu I, in the reign-period I Fêng (A.D. 676-679)
of the Emperor Kao Tsung of the T'ang dynasty, having failed in
his examination for his licentiate's degree, when passing through
Ching-yang Hsien, in Ch'ang-an, Shensi, on his way home, saw a
young woman tending goats by the roadside. She said to him: "I am the
youngest daughter of the Dragonking of the Tung-t'ing Lake. My parents
married me to the son of the God of the River Ching, but my husband,
misled by the slanders of the servants, repudiated me. I have heard
that you are returning to the Kingdom of Wu, which is quite close
to my native district, so I want to ask you to take this letter to
my father. To the north of the Tung-t'ing Lake you will find a large
orange-tree, called by the natives Protector of the Soil. Strike it
three times with your girdle and some one will appear."
Some months later the graduate went to the spot, found the orange-tree,
and struck it three times, whereupon a warrior arose from the lake
and, saluting him, asked what he wanted. "I wish to see your great
King," the graduate replied. The warrior struck the waters, opening
a passage for Liu I, and led him to a palace. "This," he said, "is
the palace of Ling Hsü." In a few minutes there appeared a person
dressed in violet-coloured clothes and holding in his hand a piece
of jade. "This is our King," said the warrior. "I am your Majesty's
neighbour," replied Liu I. "I spent my youth in Ch'u and studied in
Ch'in. I have just failed in my licentiate examination. On my way
home I saw your daughter tending some goats; she was all dishevelled,
and in so pitiable a condition that it hurt me to see her, She has
sent you this letter."
Golden Dragon Great Prince
On reading the letter the King wept, and all the courtiers followed
his example. "Stop wailing," said the King, "lest Ch'ien-t'ang
hear." "Who is Ch'ien-t'ang?" asked Liu I. "He is my dear brother,"
replied the King; "formerly he was one of the chief administrators of
the Ch'ien-t'ang River; now he is the chief God of Rivers." "Why are
you so afraid that he might hear what I have just told you?" "Because
he has a terrible temper. It was he who, in the reign of Yao, caused
a nine-years flood."
Before he had finished speaking, a red dragon, a thousand feet long,
with red scales, mane of fire, bloody tongue, and eyes blazing
like lightning, passed through the air with rapid flight and
disappeared. Barely a few moments had elapsed when it returned with
a young woman whom Liu I recognized as the one who had entrusted him
with the letter. The Dragon-king, overjoyed, said to him: "This is my
daughter; her husband is no more, and she offers you her hand." Liu
did not dare to accept, since it appeared that they had just killed
her husband. He took his departure, and married a woman named Chang,
who soon died. He then married another named Han, who also died. He
then went to live at Nanking, and, his solitude preying upon his
spirits, he decided to marry yet again. A middleman spoke to him of a
girl of Fang Yang, in Chihli, whose father, Hao, had been Magistrate
of Ch'ing Liu, in Anhui. This man was always absent on his travels,
no one knew whither. The girl's mother, Cheng, had married her two
years before to a man named Chang of Ch'ing Ho, in Chihli, who had
just died. Distressed at her daughter being left a widow so young,
the mother wished to find another husband for her.
Liu I agreed to marry this young woman, and at the end of a year
they had a son. She then said to her husband: "I am the daughter
of the King of the Tung-t'ing Lake. It was you who saved me from
my miserable plight on the bank of the Ching, and I swore I would
reward you. Formerly you refused to accept my hand, and my parents
decided to marry me to the son of a silk-merchant. I cut my hair,
and never ceased to hope that I might some time or other be united
to you in order that I might show you my gratitude."
In A.D. 712, in the reign-period K'ai-yüan of the Emperor Hsüan Tsung
of the T'ang dynasty, they both returned to the Tung-t'ing Lake;
but the legend says nothing further with regard to them.
Shang Ti, the Supreme Ruler, conferred on Liu I the title of Chin
Lung Ta Wang, 'Golden Dragon Great Prince.'
The Old Mother of the Waters
The Old Mother of the Waters, Shul-mu Niang-niang, is the legendary
spirit of Ssu-chou, in Anhui. To her is popularly ascribed the
destruction of the ancient city of Ssu-chou, which was completely
submerged by the waters of the Hung-tsê Lake in A.D. 1574.
One author states that this Goddess of the Waters is the younger
sister of the White Spiritual Elephant, a guardian of the Door of
Buddha. This elephant is the "subtle principle of metamorphosed water."
In his _Recherches sur Us Superstitions en Chine_, Père Henri Doré,
S.J., relates the legends he had heard with regard to this deity. One
of these is as follows:
Shui-mu Niang-niang inundated the town of Ssu-chou almost every year. A
report was presented to Yu Huang, Lord of the Skies, begging him to
put an end to the scourge which devastated the country and cost so
many lives. The Lord of the Skies commanded the Great Kings of the
Skies and their generals to raise troops and take the field in order
to capture this goddess and deprive her of the power of doing further
mischief. But her tricks triumphed over force, and the city continued
to be periodically devastated by inundations.
One day Shui-mu Niang-niang was seen near the city gate carrying two
buckets of water. Li Lao-chün suspected some plot, but, an open attack
being too risky, he preferred to adopt a ruse. He went and bought
a donkey, led it to the buckets of water, and let it drink their
contents. Unfortunately the animal could not drink all the water,
so that a little remained at the bottom of the buckets. Now these
magical buckets contained the sources of the five great lakes, which
held enough water to inundate the whole of China. Shui-mu Niang-niang
with her foot overturned one of the buckets, and the water that had
remained in it was enough to cause a formidable flood, which submerged
the unfortunate town, and buried it for ever under the immense sheet
of water called the Lake of Hung-tsê.
So great a crime deserved an exemplary punishment, and accordingly Yü
Huang sent reinforcements to his armies, and a pursuit of the goddess
was methodically organized.
The Magic Vermicelli
Sun Hou-tzu, the Monkey Sun, [25] the rapid courier, who in a
single skip could traverse 108,000 _li_ (36,000 miles), started in
pursuit and caught her up, but the astute goddess was clever enough
to slip through his fingers. Sun Hou-tzu, furious at this setback,
went to ask Kuan-yin P'u-sa to come to his aid. She promised to do
so. As one may imagine, the furious race she had had to escape from
her enemy had given Shui-mu Niang-niang a good appetite. Exhausted
with fatigue, and with an empty stomach, she caught sight of a woman
selling vermicelli, who had just prepared two bowls of it and was
awaiting customers. Shui-mu Niang-niang went up to her and began
to eat the strength-giving food with avidity. No sooner had she
eaten half of the vermicelli than it changed in her stomach into
iron chains, which wound round her intestines. The end of the chain
protruded from her mouth, and the contents of the bowl became another
long chain which welded itself to the end which stuck out beyond her
lips. The vermicelli-seller was no other than Kuan-yin P'u-sa herself,
who had conceived this stratagem as a means of ridding herself of
this evil-working goddess. She ordered Sun Hou-tzu to take her down
a deep well at the foot of a mountain in Hsü-i Hsien and to fasten
her securely there. It is there that Shui-mu Niang-niang remains in
her liquid prison. The end of the chain is to be seen when the water
is low.
Hsü, the Dragon-slayer
Hsü Chên-chün was a native either of Ju-ning Fu in Honan, or of
Nan-ch'ang Fu in Kiangsi. His father was Hsü Su. His personal name
was Ching-chih, and his ordinary name Sun.
At forty-one years of age, when he was Magistrate of Ching-yang,
near the modern Chih-chiang Hsien, in Hupei, during times of drought
he had only to touch a piece of tile to turn it into gold, and thus
relieve the people of their distress. He also saved many lives by
curing sickness through the use of talismans and magic formulæ.
During the period of the dynastic troubles he resigned and joined
the famous magician Kuo P'o. Together they proceeded to the minister
Wang Tun, who had risen against the Eastern Chin dynasty. Kuo P'o's
remonstrances only irritated the minister, who cut off his head.
Hsü Sun then threw his chalice on the ridgepole of the room, causing
it to be whirled into the air. As Wang Tun was watching the career of
the chalice, Hsü disappeared and escaped. When he reached Lu-chiang
K'ou, in Anhui, he boarded a boat, which two dragons towed into the
offing and then raised into the air. In an instant they had borne it
to the Lü Shan Mountains, to the south of Kiukiang, in Kiangsi. The
perplexed boatman opened the window of his boat and took a furtive
look out. Thereupon the dragons, finding themselves discovered by an
infidel, set the boat down on the top of the mountain and fled.
The Spiritual Alligator
In this country was a dragon, or spiritual alligator, which transformed
itself into a young man named Shên Lang, and married Chia Yü, daughter
of the Chief Judge of T'an Chou (Ch'ang-sha Fu, capital of Hunan). The
young people lived in rooms below the official apartments. During
spring and summer Shên Lang, as dragons are wont to do, roamed in the
rivers and lakes. One day Hsü Chên-chün met him, recognized him as a
dragon, and knew that he was the cause of the numerous floods which
were devastating Kiangsi Province. He determined to find a means of
getting rid of him.
Shên Lang, aware of the steps being taken against him, changed himself
into a yellow ox and fled. Hsü Chên-chün at once transformed himself
into a black ox and started in pursuit. The yellow ox jumped down a
well to hide, but the black ox followed suit. The yellow ox then jumped
out again, and escaped to Ch'ang-sha, where he reassumed a human form
and lived with Ms wife in the home of his father-in-law, Hsü Sun,
returning to the town, hastened to the _yamên,_ and called to Shên
Lang to come out and show himself, addressing him in a severe tone
of voice as follows: "Dragon, how dare you hide yourself there under
a borrowed form?" Shên Lang then reassumed the form of a spiritual
alligator, and Hsü Sun ordered the spiritual soldiers to kill him. He
then commanded his two sons to come out of their abode. By merely
spurting a mouthful of water on them he transformed them into young
dragons. Chia Yü was told to vacate the rooms with all speed, and
in the twinkling of an eye the whole _yamên_ sank beneath the earth,
and there remained nothing but a lake where it had been.
Hsü Chên-chün, after his victory over the dragon, assembled the members
of his family, to the number of forty-two, on Hsi Shan, outside the
city of Nan-ch'ang Fu, and all ascended to Heaven in full daylight,
taking with them even the dogs and chickens. He was then 133 years
old. This took place on the first day of the eighth moon of the second
year (A.D. 374) of the reign-period Ning-K'ang of the reign of the
Emperor Hsiao Wu Ti of the Eastern Chin dynasty.
Subsequently a temple was erected to him, and in A.D. 1111 he was
canonized as Just Prince, Admirable and Beneficent.
The Great Flood
The repairing of the heavens by Nü Kua, elsewhere alluded to, is also
attributed to the following incident.
Before the Chinese Empire was founded a noble and wonderful queen
fought with the chief of the tribes who inhabited the country round
about Ô-mei Shan. In a fierce battle the chief and his followers met
defeat; raging with anger at being beaten by a woman, he rushed up
the mountain-side; the Queen pursued him with her army, and overtook
him at the summit; finding no place to hide himself, he attempted in
desperation both to wreak vengeance upon his enemies and to end his
own life by beating his head violently against the cane of the Heavenly
Bamboo which grew there. By his mad battering he at last succeeded in
knocking down the towering trunk of the tree, and as he did so its
top tore great rents in the canopy of the sky, through which poured
great floods of water, inundating the whole earth and drowning all the
inhabitants except the victorious Queen and her soldiers. The floods
had no power to harm her or her followers, because she herself was
an all-powerful divinity and was known as the 'Mother of the Gods,'
and the 'Defender of the Gods.' From the mountain-side she gathered
together stones of a kind having five colours, and ground them into
powder; of this she made a plaster or mortar, with which she repaired
the tears in the heavens, and the floods immediately ceased.
The Marriage of the River-god
In Yeh Hsien there was a witch and some official attendants who
collected money from the people yearly for the marriage of the
River-god.
The witch would select a pretty girl of low birth, and say that she
should be the Queen of the River-god. The girl was bathed, and clothed
in a beautiful dress of gay and costly silk. She was then taken to
the bank of the river, to a monastery which was beautifully decorated
with scrolls and banners. A feast was held, and the girl was placed
on a bed which was floated out upon the tide till it disappeared
under the waters.
Many families having beautiful daughters moved to distant places,
and gradually the city became deserted. The common belief in Yeh was
that if no queen was offered to the River-god a flood would come and
drown the people.
One day Hsi-mên Pao, Magistrate of Yeh Hsien, said to his attendants:
"When the marriage of the River-god takes place I wish to say farewell
to the chosen girl."
Accordingly Hsi-mên Pao was present to witness the ceremony. About
three thousand people had come together. Standing beside the old
witch were ten of her female disciples, "Call the girl out," said
Hsi-mên Pao. After seeing her, Hsi-mên Pao said to the witch: "She
is not fair. Go you to the River-god and tell him that we will find
a fairer maid and present her to him later on." His attendants then
seized the witch and threw her into the river.
After a little while Hsi-mên Pao said: "Why does she stay so long? Send
a disciple to call her back." One of the disciples was thrown into the
river. Another and yet another followed. The magistrate then said:"
The witches are females and therefore cannot bring me a reply." So
one of the official attendants of the witch was thrown into the river.
Hsi-mên Pao stood on the bank for a long time, apparently awaiting
a reply. The spectators were alarmed. Hsi-mên Pao then bade his
attendants send the remaining disciples of the witch and the other
official attendants to recall their mistress. The wretches threw
themselves on their knees and knocked their heads on the ground,
which was stained with the blood from their foreheads, and with tears
confessed their sin.
"The River-god detains his guest too long," said Hsi-mên Pao at
length. "Let us adjourn."
Thereafter none dared to celebrate the marriage of the River-god.
Legend of the Building of Peking
When the Mongol Yüan dynasty had been destroyed, and the Emperor
Hung Wu had succeeded in firmly establishing that of the Great Ming,
Ta Ming, he made Chin-ling, the present Nanking, his capital, and held
his Court there with great splendour, envoys from every province within
the 'Four Seas' (the Chinese Empire) assembling there to witness his
greatness and to prostrate themselves before the Dragon Throne.
The Emperor had many sons and daughters by his different consorts and
concubines, each mother, in her inmost heart, fondly hoping that her
own son would be selected by his father to succeed him.
Although the Empress had a son, who was the heir-apparent, yet she felt
envious of those ladies who had likewise been blessed with children,
for fear one of the princes should supplant her son in the affection
of the Emperor and in the succession. This envy displayed itself on
every occasion; she was greatly beloved by the Emperor, and exerted
all her influence with him, as the other young princes grew up,
to get them removed from Court. Through her means most of them were
sent to the different provinces as governors; those provinces under
their government being so many principalities or kingdoms.
Chu-ti
One of the consorts of Hung Wu, the Lady Wêng, had a son named
Chu-ti. This young prince was very handsome and graceful in his
deportment; he was, moreover, of an amiable disposition. He was the
fourth son of the Emperor, and his pleasing manner and address had made
him a great favourite, not only with his father, but with every one
about the Court. The Empress noticed the evident affection the Emperor
evinced for this prince, and determined to get him removed from the
Court as soon as possible. By a judicious use of flattery and cajolery,
she ultimately persuaded the Emperor to appoint the prince governor of
the Yen country, and thenceforth he was styled Yen Wang, Prince of Yen.
The Sealed Packet
The young Prince, shortly after, taking an affectionate leave of
the Emperor, left Chin-ling to proceed to his post. Ere he departed,
however, a Taoist priest, called Liu Po-wên, who had a great affection
for the Prince, put a sealed packet into his hand, and told him to
open it when he found himself in difficulty, distress, or danger; the
perusal of the first portion that came to his hand would invariably
suggest some remedy for the evil, whatever it was. After doing so,
he was again to seal the packet, without further looking into its
contents, till some other emergency arose necessitating advice or
assistance, when he would again find it. The Prince departed on his
journey, and in the course of time, without meeting with any adventures
worth recording, arrived safely at his destination.
A Desolate Region
The place where Peking now stands was originally called Yu Chou; in the
T'ang dynasty it was called Pei-p'ing Fu; and afterward became known
as Shun-t'ien Fu--but that was after the city now called Peking was
built. The name of the country in which this place was situated was
Yen. It was a mere barren wilderness, with very few inhabitants; these
lived in huts and scattered hamlets, and there was no city to afford
protection to the people and to check the depredations of robbers.
When the Prince saw what a desolate-looking place he had been appointed
to, and thought of the long years he was probably destined to spend
there, he grew very melancholy, and nothing his attendants essayed
to do in hope of alleviating his sorrow succeeded.
The Prince opens the Sealed Packet
All at once the Prince bethought himself of the packet which the old
Taoist priest had given him; he forthwith proceeded to make search for
it--for in the bustle and excitement of travelling he had forgotten
all about it--in hope that it might suggest something to better the
prospects before him. Having found the packet, he hastily broke it
open to see what instructions it contained; taking out the first
paper which came to hand, he read the following:
"When you reach Pei-p'ing Fu you must build a city there and name
it No-cha Ch'êng, the City of No-cha. [26] But, as the work will
be costly, you must issue a proclamation inviting the wealthy to
subscribe the necessary funds for building it. At the back of this
paper is a plan of the city; you must be careful to act according to
the instructions accompanying it."
The Prince inspected the plan, carefully read the instructions, and
found even the minutest details fully explained. He was struck with
the grandeur of the design of the proposed city, and at once acted on
the instructions contained in the packet; proclamations were posted up,
and large sums were speedily subscribed, ten of the wealthiest families
who had accompanied him from Chin-ling being the largest contributors,
supporting the plan not only with their purses, by giving immense sums,
but by their influence among their less wealthy neighbours.
The City is Founded
When sufficient money had been subscribed, a propitious day was chosen
on which to commence the undertaking. Trenches where the foundations
of the walls were to be were first dug out, according to the plan
found in the packet. The foundations themselves consisted of layers
of stone quarried from the western hills; bricks of an immense size
were made and burnt in the neighbourhood; the moat was dug out, and
the earth from it used to fill in the centre of the walls, which,
when complete, were forty-eight _li_ in circumference, fifty cubits in
height, and fifty in breadth; the whole circuit of the walls having
battlements and embrasures. Above each of the nine gates of the city
immense three-storied towers were built, each tower being ninety-nine
cubits in height.
Near the front entrance of the city, facing each other, were built the
Temples of Heaven and of Earth. In rear of it the beautiful 'Coal Hill'
(better known as 'Prospect Hill') was raised; while in the square in
front of the Great Gate of the palace was buried an immense quantity
of charcoal (that and the coal being stored as a precaution in case
of siege).
The palace, containing many superb buildings, was built in a style of
exceeding splendour; in the various enclosures were beautiful gardens
and lakes; in the different courtyards, too, seventy-two wells were
dug and thirty-six golden tanks placed. The whole of the buildings
and grounds was surrounded by a lofty wall and a stone-paved moat,
in which the lotus and other flowers bloomed in great beauty and
profusion, and in the clear waters of which myriads of gold and silver
fish disported themselves.
The geomancy of the city was similar to that of Chin-ling, When
everything was completed the Prince compared it with the plan and
found that the city tallied with it in every respect. He was much
delighted, and called for the ten wealthy persons who had been
the chief contributors, and gave each of them a pair of 'couchant
dragon' silk- or satin-embroidered cuffs, and allowed them great
privileges. Up to the present time there is the common saying:
"Since then the 'dragon-cuffed' gentlefolks have flourished."
General Prosperity
All the people were loud in praise of the beauty and strength of the
newly built city. Merchants from every province hastened to Peking,
attracted by the news they heard of its magnificence and the prospect
there was of profitably disposing of their wares. In short, the people
were prosperous and happy, food was plentiful, the troops brave, the
monarch just, his ministers virtuous, and all enjoyed the blessings
of peace.
A Drought and its Cause
While everything was thus tranquil, a sudden and untoward event
occurred which spread dismay and consternation on all sides. One day
when the Prince went into the hall of audience one of his ministers
reported that "the wells are thirsty and the rivers dried up"--there
was no water, and the people were all in the greatest alarm. The
Prince at once called his counsellors together to devise some means
of remedying this disaster and causing the water to return to the
wells and springs, but no one could suggest a suitable plan.
It is necessary to explain the cause of this scarcity of water. There
was a dragon's cave outside the east gate of the city at a place
called Lei-chên K'ou, 'Thunder-clap Mouth' or 'Pass' (the name of a
village). The dragon had not been seen for myriads of years, yet it
was well known that he lived there.
In digging out the earth to build the wall the workmen had broken into
this dragon's cave, little thinking of the consequences which would
result. The dragon was exceedingly wroth and determined to shift his
abode, but the she-dragon said: "We have lived here thousands of years,
and shall we suffer the Prince of Yen to drive us forth thus? If we
_do_ go we will collect all the water, place it in our _yin-yang_
baskets [used for drawing water], and at midnight we will appear in a
dream to the Prince, requesting permission to retire. If he gives us
permission to do so, and allows us also to take our baskets of water
with us, he will fall into our trap, for we shall take the waler with
his own consent,"
The Prince's Dream
The two dragons then transformed themselves into an old man and
an old woman, went to the chamber of the Prince, who was asleep,
and appeared to him in a dream. Kneeling before him, they cried:
"O Lord of a Thousand Years, we have come before you to beg leave to
retire from this place, and to beseech you out of your great bounty
to give us permission to take these two baskets of water with us."
The Prince readily assented, little dreaming of the danger he was
incurring. The dragons were highly delighted, and hastened out of
his presence; they filled the baskets with all the water there was
in Peking, and carried them off with them.
When the Prince awoke he paid no attention to his dream till he
heard the report of the scarcity of water, when, reflecting on the
singularity of his dream, he thought there might be some hidden meaning
in it. He therefore had recourse to the packet again, and discovered
that his dream-visitors had been dragons, who had taken the waters of
Peking away with them in their magic baskets; the packet, however,
contained directions for the recovery of the water, and he at once
prepared to follow them.
The Pursuit of the Dragons
In haste the Prince donned his armour, mounted his black steed, and,
spear in hand, dashed out of the west gate of the city. He pressed on
his horse, which went swift as the wind, nor did he slacken speed till
he came up with the water-stealing dragons, who still retained the
forms in which they had appeared to him in his dream. On a cart were
the two identical baskets he had seen; in front of the cart, dragging
it, was the old woman, while behind, pushing it, was the old man.
An Unexpected Flood
When the Prince saw them he galloped up to the cart, and, without
pausing, thrust his spear into one of the baskets, making a great hole,
out of which the water rushed so rapidly that the Prince was much
frightened. He dashed off at full speed to save himself from being
swallowed up by the waters, which in a very short time had risen more
than thirty feet and had flooded the surrounding country. On galloped
the Prince, followed by the roaring water, till he reached a hill,
up which he urged his startled horse. When he gained the top he found
that it stood out of the water like an island, completely surrounded;
the water was seething and swirling round the hill in a frightful
manner, but no vestige could he see of either of the dragons.
The Waters Subside
The Prince was very much alarmed at his perilous position, when
suddenly a Buddhist priest appeared before him, with clasped hands and
bent head, who bade him not be alarmed, as with Heaven's assistance
he would soon disperse the water. Hereupon the priest recited a short
prayer or spell, and the waters receded as rapidly as they had risen,
and finally returned to their proper channels.
The Origin of Chên-shui T'a
The broken basket became a large deep hole, some three _mu_ (about
half an English acre) in extent, in the centre of which was a fountain
which threw up a vast body of clear water. From the midst of this
there arose a pagoda, which rose and fell with the water, floating on
the top like a vessel; the spire thrusting itself far up into the sky,
and swaying about like the mast of a ship in a storm.
The Prince returned to the city filled with wonder at what he
had seen, and with joy at having so successfully carried out the
directions contained in the packet. On all sides he was greeted by
the acclamations of the people, who hailed him as the saviour of
Peking. Since that time Peking has never had the misfortune to be
without water.
The pagoda is called the Pagoda on the Hill of the Imperial Spring
(Yü Ch'üan Shan T'a; more commonly Chên-shui T'a, 'Water-repressing
Pagoda'). [27] The spring is still there, and day and night,
unceasingly, its clear waters bubble up and flow eastward to Peking,
which would now be a barren wilderness but for Yen Wang's pursuit of
the water.