courage they so sadly needed, teaching them that the Tartars were not
quite beyond the power of the sword. A council was called, a proposal to
carry the war into the enemy's country approved, and an army, composed
mostly of cavalry, sent out under an experienced officer named
Hokiuping. The ill fortune of the former invasion was now replaced by
good. The Tartars, completely taken by surprise, were everywhere driven
back, and Hokiuping returned to China rich in booty, among it the golden
images used as religious emblems by one of the Tartar princes. Returning
with a larger force, he swept far through their country, boasting on his
return that he had put thirty thousand Tartars to the sword. As a
result, two of the princes and a large number of their followers
surrendered to Vouti, and were disarmed and dispersed through the
frontier settlements of the realm.
These expeditions were followed by an invasion of the Heung-nou country
by a large army, commanded by the two successful generals Wei Tsing and
Hokiuping. This movement was attended with signal success, and the
Tartars for the time were thoroughly cowed, while the Chinese lost much
of their old dread of their desert foe. Years afterwards (110 B.C.) a
new Tartar war began, Vouti himself taking command of an army of two
hundred thousand men, and sending an envoy to the Tartar king,
commanding him to surrender all prisoners and plunder and to acknowledge
China as sovereign lord of himself and his people. All that the proud
chief surrendered was the head of the ambassador, which he sent back
with a bold defiance.
For some reason, which history does not give, Vouti failed to lead his
all-conquering army against the desert foe, and when, in a later year,
the steppes were invaded, the imperial army found the warlike tribes
ready for the onset. The war continued for twenty years more, with
varied fortune, and when, after fifty years of almost incessant warfare
with the nomad warriors, Vouti laid down his sword with his life, the
Tartars were still free and defiant. Yet China had learned a new way of
dealing with the warlike tribes, and won a wide reputation in Asia,
while her frontiers were much more firmly held.
The long reign of the great emperor had not been confined to wars with
the Tartars. In his hands the empire of China was greatly widened by
extensions in the west. The large provinces of Yunnan, Szchuen, and
Fuhkien were conquered and added to the Chinese state, while other
independent kingdoms were made vassal states. And "thereby hangs a tale"
which we have next to tell.
Far west in Northern China dwelt a barbarian people named the Yuchi,
numerous and prosperous, yet no match in war for their persistent
enemies the Tartars of the steppes. In the year 165 B.C. they were so
utterly beaten in an invasion of the Heung-nou that they were forced to
quit their homes and seek safety and freedom at a distance. Far to the
west they went, where they coalesced with those warlike tribes of
Central Asia who afterwards became the bane of the empire of Rome.
The fate of this people seemed a bitter one to Vouti, when it was told
to his sympathetic ear, and, in the spirit in which King Arthur sent out
his Round Table Knights on romantic quests, he turned to his council and
asked if any among them was daring enough to follow the track of these
wanderers and bring them back to the land they had lost. One of them,
Chang Keen, volunteered to take up the difficult quest and to traverse
Asia from end to end in search of the fugitive tribes.
This knight of romance was to experience many adventures before he
should return to his native land. Attended by a hundred devoted
companions, he set out, but in endeavoring to cross the country of the
Heung-nou the whole party were made prisoners and held in captivity for
ten long years. Finally, after a bitter experience of desert life, the
survivors made their escape, and, with a courage that had outlived their
years of thraldom, resumed their search for the vanished tribes. Many
western countries were visited in the search, and much strange knowledge
was gained. In the end the Yuchi were found in their new home. With them
Chang Keen dwelt for a year, but all his efforts to induce them to
return were in vain. They were safe in their new land, and did not care
to risk encounter with their old foes, even with the Emperor of China
for their friend.
Finally the adventurous envoy returned to China with two of his
companions, the only survivors of the hundred with whom he had set out
years before. He had an interesting story to tell of lands and peoples
unknown to the Chinese, and wrote an account of his travels and of the
geography of the countries he had seen. Chang Keen was subsequently sent
on a mission to the western kingdom of Ousun, where he was received with
much honor, though the king declined to acknowledge himself a vassal of
the ruler of China. From here he sent explorers far to the south and
north, bringing back with him fresh information concerning the Asiatic
nations.
Of the Yuchi later stories are told. They are said to have come into
collision with the Parthians, whom they vanquished after a
long-continued struggle. They are also credited with having destroyed
the kingdom of Bactria, a far-eastern relic of the empire of Alexander
the Great. Several centuries later they may have combined with their old
foes to form the Huns, who flung themselves in a devastating torrent
upon Europe, and eventually became the founders of the modern kingdom of
Hungary.
_THE "CRIMSON EYEBROWS."_
With the opening of the Christian era a usurper came to the Chinese
throne. In the year 1 B.C. the emperor Gaiti died, and Wang Mang, a
powerful official, joined with the mother of the dead emperor to seize
the power of the state. The friends and officials of Gaiti were ruined
and disgraced, and in the year 1 A.D. a boy of nine years was raised to
the throne as nominal emperor, under whose shadow Wang Mang ruled
supreme. Money was needed for the ambitious upstart, and he obtained it
by robbing the graves of former monarchs of the jewels and other
valuables buried with them. This, from the Chinese point of view, was a
frightful sacrilege, yet the people seem to have quietly submitted to
the violation of the imperial tombs.
Five years passed away, and the emperor reached the age of sixteen. He
might grow troublesome in a year or two more. Wang Mang decided that he
had lived long enough. The poisoned cup, which seems to have been always
ready in the Chinese palace, was handed to the boy by the usurper
himself. Drinking it unsuspiciously, the unfortunate youth was soon
lying on the floor in the agonies of death, while the murderer woke the
palace halls with his cries of counterfeit grief, loudly bewailing the
young emperor's sad fate, and denouncing heaven for having sent this
sudden and fatal illness upon the royal youth.
To keep up appearances, another child was placed upon the throne. A
conspiracy against the usurper was now formed by the great men of the
state, but Wang Mang speedily crushed plot and plotters, rid himself of
the new boy emperor in the same arbitrary fashion as before, and,
throwing off the mask he had thus far worn, had himself proclaimed
emperor of the realm. It was the Han dynasty he had in this arbitrary
fashion brought to an end. He called his dynasty by the name of Sin.
But the usurper soon learned the truth of the saying, "uneasy lies the
head that wears a crown." The Tartars of the desert defied his
authority, broke their long truce, and raided the rich provinces of the
north, which had enjoyed thirty years of peace and prosperity. In this
juncture Wang Mang showed that he was better fitted to give poison to
boys than to meet his foes in the field. The Tartars committed their
ravages with impunity, and other enemies were quickly in arms.
Rebellions broke out in the east and the south, and soon, wherever the
usurper turned, he saw foes in the field or lukewarm friends at home.
The war that followed continued for twelve years, the armies of
rebellion, led by princes of the Han line of emperors, drawing their net
closer and closer around him, until at length he was shut up within his
capital city, with an army of foes around its walls. The defence was
weak, and the victors soon made their way through the gates, appearing
quickly at the palace doors. The usurper had reached the end of his
troubled reign, but at this fatal juncture had not the courage to take
his own life. The victorious soldiers rushed in while he was hesitating
in mortal fear, and with a stroke put an end to his reign and his
existence. His body was hacked into bleeding fragments, which were cast
about the streets of the city, to be trampled underfoot by the rejoicing
throng.
It is not, however, the story of Wang Mang's career that we have set out
to tell, but that of one of his foes, the leader of a band of rebels,
Fanchong by name. This partisan leader had shown himself a man of
striking military ability, bringing his troops under strict discipline,
and defeating all his foes. Soldiers flocked to his ranks, his band
became an army, and in the crisis of the struggle he took a step that
made him famous in Chinese history. He ordered his soldiers to paint
their eyebrows red, as a sign that they were ready to fight to the last
drop of their blood. Then he issued the following proclamation to the
people: "If you meet the 'Crimson Eyebrows,' join yourselves to them; it
is the sure road to safety. You can fight the usurper's troops without
danger; but if you wish for death you may join Wang Mang's army."
The end of the war was not the end of the "Crimson Eyebrows." Fanchong
was ambitious, and a large number of his followers continued under his
flag. They had aided greatly in putting a Han emperor on the throne, but
they now became his most formidable foes, changing from patriots into
brigands, and keeping that part of the empire which they haunted in a
state of the liveliest alarm.
Against this thorn in the side of the realm the new emperor sent his
ablest commander, and a fierce campaign ensued, in which the brigand
band stubbornly fought for life and license. In the end they suffered a
crushing defeat, and for the time sank out of sight, but only to rise
again at a later date.
The general who had defeated them, an able prince of the Han family,
followed up his victory by seizing the throne itself and deposing the
weak emperor. The latter fled to the retreat of the remnant of the
brigand band, and begged their aid to restore him to the throne, but
Fanchong, who had no idea of placing a greater than himself at the head
of his band, escaped from the awkward position by putting his guest to
death.
Soon after the "Crimson Eyebrows" were in the field again, not as
supporters of an imperial refugee, but as open enemies of the public
peace, each man fighting for his own hand. While the new ruler was
making himself strong at Loyang, the new capital, Fanchong and his
brigands seized Changnan, Wang Mang's old capital, and pillaged it
mercilessly. Making it their head-quarters, they lived on the
inhabitants of the city and the surrounding district, holding on until
the rapid approach of the army of the emperor admonished them that it
was time to seek a safer place of retreat.
The army of the brigand chief grew until it was believed to exceed two
hundred thousand men, while their excesses were so great that they were
everywhere regarded as public enemies, hated and execrated by the
people at large. But the career of the "Crimson Eyebrows" was near its
end. The emperor sent against them an army smaller than their own, but
under the command of Fongy, one of the most skilful generals of the age.
His lack of numbers was atoned for by skill in manoeuvres, the
brigands were beaten in numerous skirmishes, and at length Fongy risked
a general engagement, which ended in a brilliant victory. During the
crisis of the battle he brought up a reserve of prisoners whom he had
captured in the previous battles and had won over to himself. These,
wearing still the crimson sign of the brigands, mingled unobserved among
their former comrades, and at a given signal suddenly made a fierce
attack upon them. This treacherous assault produced a panic, and
Fanchong's army was soon flying in disorder and dismay.
Terms were now offered to the brigand chief, which he accepted, and his
army disbanded, with the exception of some fragments, which soon
gathered again into a powerful force. This Fongy attacked and completely
dispersed, and the long and striking career of the "Crimson Eyebrows"
came to an end.
[Illustration: A CHINESE PAGODA.]
_THE CONQUEST OF CENTRAL ASIA._
The Chinese are the most practical and the least imaginative of the
peoples of the earth. During their whole four thousand years and more of
historical existence the idea of military glory seems never to have
dawned upon their souls. They have had wars, abundance of them, but
these have nearly all been fought for the purpose of holding on to old
possessions, or of widening the borders of the empire by taking in
neighboring lands. No Alexander, Caesar, or Napoleon has ever been born
on Chinese soil; no army has ever been led abroad in search of the
will-of-the-wisp called glory; the wild fancy of becoming lords of the
world has always been out of touch with their practical minds.
If we consider closely the wars of China the truth of what is here said
will appear. The great bulk of them have been fought within the limits
of the empire, for the purposes of defence against invasion, the
suppression of revolt, the overthrow of the power of feudal lords, or in
consequence of the ambition of successful generals who coveted the
throne. The wars of external conquest have been singularly few,
consisting principally in the invasion of the domain of the Tartars, to
which the Chinese were driven by the incessant raids of the desert
hordes. In addition, there have been invasions of Corea and Indo-China,
but merely as passing incidents in the long era of Chinese history, not
as inaugurating a career of conquest. The great invasion of Japan in the
thirteenth century, the only pure war of conquest of China, was made by
Kublai Khan, a Tartar emperor, and largely with Tartar troops. In brief,
the Chinese have shown themselves in disposition one of the most
peaceful of nations, only asking to be let alone, and are very unlikely
to begin the war of conquest which some modern military writers fear.
Yet there is one instance in Chinese history which seems to contradict
what has here been said, that of the career of a great conqueror who
carried the arms of China over the whole width of Asia, and who seemed
actuated by that thirst for military glory which has inspired most of
the great wars of the world and brought untold misery upon mankind. This
was the great leader Panchow, who lived under three emperors of the Han
dynasty, and whose career is full of interest and event.
Panchow first appears in the reign of the emperor Mingti, who came to
the throne in 57 A.D. His victories were won in the west, in the region
of Kokonor, where he brought to an end the invasions of the Tartar
tribes. Under Changti, the succeeding emperor, Panchow continued his
work in the west, carrying on the war at his own expense, with an army
recruited from pardoned criminals.
Changti died, and Hoti came to the throne, a child ten years of age. It
was under his reign that the events to be described took place. During
the preceding reigns Panchow had made the power of China felt in regions
far west of that realm, bringing several small kingdoms and many tribes
under subjection, conquering the city of Kashgar, and extending the
western borders of China as far into the interior of Asia as the great
upland region of the Pamir. The power of his arms had added Eastern
Turkestan to the Chinese empire, a region which it continues to hold
to-day.
But these conquests were not enough to satisfy the ambition of the
veteran general. Under the boy emperor Hoti he was free to carry out his
designs on a much larger scale. With a powerful army he set out on the
only campaign of ambitious warfare in which China ever indulged. His
previous victories had carried the terror of his name far over the
kingdoms of the west, and he now led his army to conquest after conquest
in the great oases of Western Turkestan, subduing kingdom after kingdom
until no less than fifteen had submitted to the power of his arms, and
his victorious army stood on the far-distant shores of the Caspian
Sea,--the Northern Sea, as it is named in Chinese annals.
To cross this sea would have brought him into Europe, which continent
had never dreamed of invasion from the mysterious land of Cathay, on the
eastern horizon of the world. Panchow's ambition was not yet satiated.
There came to his mind the idea of crossing this seeming great barrier
to his victorious career. He had, with his army, overcome innumerable
difficulties of waterless deserts, lofty mountain ranges, great rivers,
and valiant enemies. Thus far his progress had been irresistible, and
should a mere expanse of water put an end to his westward march?
He was checked by dread of perils in the unknown land beyond. The people
on the borders of the Caspian represented that salt sea as being far
more formidable than it really was. They dilated on its width, the vast
mountains which lay beyond, the fierce tribes who would render a landing
difficult and dangerous, and the desert regions beyond the mountains,
until Panchow reluctantly gave up his scheme. He had already been for
several years warring with savage nature and barbarous man, and had
extended the dominions of his emperor much farther than any Chinese
general had ever dreamed of before. It was time to call a halt, and not
expose his valiant followers to the unknown perils beyond the great
inland sea.
The army remained long encamped on the Caspian, coming into
communication through its envoys with the Roman empire, whose eastern
borders lay not far away, and forming relations of commerce with this
rich and powerful realm. This done, Panchow led his ever-victorious
warriors back to their native land, to tell the story of the marvels
they had seen and the surprising adventures they had encountered.
That Panchow was moved by the mere thirst for military fame may well be
doubted in view of what we know of the character of the Chinese. His
purpose was perhaps the more practical one of opening by force of arms
new channels of trade, and overcoming the obstacles placed by the
Parthians and other nations of Asia in the way of freedom of commerce.
On his return to China he found himself the idol of the people, the
trusted friend of the emperor, and the most revered and powerful subject
of the empire. He died in his eightieth year, enjoying a fame such as no
general of his race had ever before attained.
_THE SIEGE OF SINCHING._
When the great dynasty of the Hans, which had held supreme rule in China
for more than four hundred years, came to an end, it left that country
divided up into three independent kingdoms. The emperors who had once
ruled over all China found themselves now lords of its smallest
division, while the kingdom of Wei included the largest and most
populous districts in the realm. A war for supremacy arose between these
three kingdoms, which ended in the kings of Wei becoming supreme over
the whole empire and establishing a new dynasty, which they named the
dynasty of Tsin. Of this war we have only one event to relate, an
interesting example of Chinese fortitude and valor.
Shortly after 250 A.D. an army of the Han emperor, led by a general
named Chukwoko, settled down to the siege of a small walled town named
Sinching, held by three thousand men under the command of a leader named
Changte, whose fortitude and energy alone saved this place for the king
of Wei.
For ninety days the siege went on, the catapults of the besieging force
playing incessantly upon the walls, which, despite the activity of the
garrison, were in time pierced in many places, while several gaping
breaches lay open to the foe. Changte had defended the place
vigorously, no commander could have done more, and, as no sign of a
relieving force appeared, he could with all honor have capitulated,
thrown open the gates, and marched out with such dignity as the
victorious enemy would permit.
But this was not the view of his duty held by the valorous soldier. He
was one of the kind who die but do not surrender, and in his extremity
had recourse to the following ruse. He sent word to Chukwoko that, as
the place was clearly untenable, he was willing to surrender if he were
granted ten days more of grace.
"It is a law among the princes of Wei," he said, "that the governor of a
place which has held out for a hundred days, and then, seeing no
prospect of relief, surrenders, shall not be held guilty of dereliction
of duty."
Chukwoko gladly accepted this offer, being weary of his long delay
before this small post, and quite willing to save his men from the
perils of an assault. But, to his astonishment, a few days later he saw
fresh bulwarks rising above those which had been ruined by his engines,
while the breaches were rapidly repaired, new gates replaced those that
had been destroyed, and Sinching seemed suddenly to regain the
appearance it had presented three months before. Inside the walls a new
spirit prevailed, the courage of the bold commander reanimating his
troops, while the sentinels on the ramparts shouted messages of disdain
to the besieging force.
Indignant at this violation of the terms of the agreement, Chukwoko sent
a flag of truce to the gate, demanding angrily what these proceedings
meant, and if this was Changte's way of keeping his word.
"I am preparing my tomb," replied the bold commander. "I propose to bury
myself under the ruins of Sinching."
The tomb remained untenanted by the daring commandant. The long-delayed
relief appeared, and Chukwoko was obliged to make a hasty retreat, with
the loss of half his army. It is safe to say that in the pursuit Changte
and his faithful three thousand played a leading part.
_FROM THE SHOEMAKER'S BENCH TO THE THRONE._
At the beginning of the fifth century of the Christian era China had
fallen into a state of decrepitude. The second dynasty of the Tsins was
near its end. For a century and a half it had held the imperial power,
but now it had fallen a prey to luxury, one of its latest emperors dying
from prolonged drunkenness, another being smothered in bed by his wife,
whom he had insulted while intoxicated.
The empire which the founder of the dynasty had built up showed signs of
falling to pieces. In the south the daring pirate Sunghen was making the
great rivers the scenes of his merciless activity, spreading terror
along their banks, and extending his desolating raids far over the
surrounding provinces. In the north had arisen a new enemy, the Geougen
Tartars, whose career had begun in the outbreak of a hundred rebels, but
who had now become so powerful that their chief assumed in the year 402
the proud title of Kagan, or Great Lord. Falling upon the northern
boundaries of the empire, these dangerous foes made daring inroads into
the realm. As for the provinces of the empire, many of them were in a
rebellious mood.
At this critical period in Chinese history a child of the people came
forward as the savior of his country. This was a poor boy for whom his
parents had done little more than give him his name of Lieouyu, having
been forced by poverty to desert him to the cold comfort of charity. He
was cared for by a kind woman, as poor as they, and as he grew older
learned the humble trade of shoemaking, which he followed for some time
as an occupation, though he chafed in spirit at its wearisome monotony.
The boy had in him the seeds of better things, showing in his early
years a remarkable quickness in learning, and an energy that was not
likely to remain content with a humble position.