and burning with spirit and courage, the ambitious boy soon deserted the
shoemaker's bench for the army's ranks. Here he showed such valor and
ability that he rapidly rose to the command of a company, and was in
time intrusted with a small independent body of troops. It was against
the pirate Sunghen that the young soldier was pitted, and during three
years he vigorously opposed that leader in his devastating raids. In
this field of duty he was repeatedly victorious, breaking the reputation
of the corsair, and so weakening him that his overthrow became easy.
This was performed by another leader, the defeat of Sunghen being so
signal that, despairing of escape, he leaped overboard and was drowned.
Lieouyu, having abundantly proved his ability, was now rapidly promoted,
rising in rank until he found himself in command of an army, which he
handled with the greatest skill and success. His final victory in this
position was against a formidable rebel, whom he fought both on land and
on water with a much smaller force, completely defeating him. The
emperor showed his sense of gratitude for this valuable service by
raising the shoemaker's boy to the rank of commander-in-chief of all the
armies of the empire.
In this exalted position Lieouyu displayed the same energy and ability
that he had shown in humbler commands. Marching from province to
province and from victory to victory, he put down the rebels whom the
weakness of the government had permitted to rise on every side. He had
not only rebellious bands, but disloyal princes of the empire, to
contend with. In one of his marches it was necessary to cross the great
province of Wei, north of the Hoang-ho, a movement to which Topa, prince
of the province, refused permission. Lieouyu, indignant at this
disloyalty, forced the passage of the stream, routed the army of the
prince, and pursued his march without further opposition, sending one of
his generals, named Wangchinon, against the city of Changnan, the
capital of the prince of Chin, who had hoisted the flag of rebellion
against the emperor.
Lieouyu had chosen his substitute well. Conveying his army by water as
far as possible, Wangchinon, on leaving his ships, ordered them to be
cast adrift. To the soldiers he made the following Napoleonic oration:
"We have neither supplies nor provisions, and the swift waters of the
Weiho bear from us the ships in which we came. Soldiers of the empire,
only two things lie before us. Let us beat the enemy, and we will
regain a hundredfold all we have lost, besides covering ourselves with
glory. If the enemy beat us, there is no escape; death will be the lot
of us all. To conquer or to die,--that is our destiny. You have heard;
prepare to march against the enemy."
With so resolute a commander victory was almost assured. Changnan,
vigorously assailed, quickly surrendered, and the captive prince of Chin
was executed as a rebel taken in arms. Lieouyu, who had been winning
victories elsewhere, now arrived, having marched in all haste to the aid
of his valorous lieutenant. Praising Wangchinon for the brilliancy of
his achievement, the commander was about putting his forces on the march
for new victorious deeds, when peremptory orders recalled him to the
capital, and his career of conquest was for the time checked. The
absence of the strong hand was quickly felt. The rebels rose again in
force, Changnan was lost and with it all the conquests Lieouyu had made,
and the forces of the empire were everywhere driven back in defeat.
Meanwhile Lieouyu, at the capital, found himself in the midst of
political complications that called for decisive measures. The weakness
of the emperor troubled him, while he felt a deep resentment at what he
considered ill treatment on the part of the throne. He had, as Prince of
Song, been raised to the third rank among the princes of the realm, but
he thought his deeds entitled him to rank among the first; while the
success of the rebels in the absence of his master had redoubled his
reputation among the people.
Ganti, the emperor, was destined to experience the dangerous
consequences of raising a subject to such a height and yet leaving him
below the rank to which he aspired. Lieouyu, now all-powerful in
military circles, and virtually master of the realm, caused the emperor
to be strangled, and named his brother Kongti as successor to the
throne. But the ambition of the shoemaker's boy had not reached its
summit. This was but a provisional step, and the throne itself lay
before him as an alluring prize. Having skilfully laid his plans,
Lieouyu, at the end of two years, gave the weak Kongti to understand
that his reign was at an end, and that he must step down from the throne
which a stronger than he proposed to ascend.
Kongti made no resistance to this arbitrary demand. He knew that
resistance would be useless, and resigned his imperial dignity in favor
of the peasant who by his sword had carved his way to the throne. The
ceremony was an interesting one. A broad scaffold was erected in a field
adjoining the capital, and on it was placed a gorgeously decorated
imperial throne, which Kongti occupied, while Lieouyu, attired in royal
garb, stood below. In the presence of the assembled thousands of
Kienkang, the capital, Kongti descended from the seat which he had so
feebly filled, while his strong successor seated himself on the throne
amid the plaudits of the approving multitude. In the presence of the
great officials of the realm Kongti paid homage to Lieouyu, thus
completing a ceremony which was without parallel in the history of the
Chinese empire. With this act the dynasty of the Tsins came to an end,
and was replaced by that of the Songs, of which Lieouyu was the first
and worthiest representative.
Of the ceremony of investiture the principal feature was the assumption
of the imperial cap or crown, which has long been the chief mark of
royalty worn by the Chinese emperor. This is a cap of peculiar shape,
round in front and straight behind, and ornamented with one hundred and
forty-four precious stones. From it hang twelve pendants consisting of
strings of pearls, of which four are so arranged as to hang over the
emperor's eyes. This is done, it is said, in order that the emperor may
not see the accused who are brought before him for trial.
[Illustration: Reproduced by permission of The Philadelphia Museums.
WATER CART. PEKIN, CHINA.]
It was in the year 420 A.D. that Lieouyu ascended the throne, assuming
with the imperial dignity the name of a former emperor of renown,
Kaotsou, and naming his dynasty the Song, from his princely title.
As for the deposed emperor, the new monarch had no thought of leaving
any such dangerous element in his path, and Kongti was called upon "to
drink the waters of eternal life," the Chinese euphuism for swallowing
poison. Kongti, a devoted Buddhist, declined the fatal draught, on the
ground that self-murder was in opposition to his religious sentiments.
This is the only instance in Chinese history in which a deposed ruler
refused to accept the inevitable fate of the unfortunate. To quaff the
poisoned cup is the time-honored way of getting rid of an inconvenient
ex-monarch. This refusal of the deposed emperor led to sterner
measures, and he was murdered by the guard which had been placed over
him in his palace.
Lieouyu was not destined long to occupy the throne which he had thus
secured. He was already growing old, and a short reign of three years
ended his career. As a monarch and a man alike he displayed sterling and
admirable qualities. His courage on the field of battle, his frugality
and earnest devotion to duty in every position which he reached, won him
the widest commendation, while he was still more esteemed by his
subjects for his kindness and devotion to the foster-mother who had
nourished him when deserted by his own parents, and who had the
remarkable fortune of seeing the poor child who had been abandoned to
her charitable care seated on the imperial throne of the realm.
_THREE NOTABLE WOMEN._
In the year 503 began a long war between the princes of Wei and the
emperors of China, which continued for nearly half a century. Of this
protracted contest we have only three incidents to relate, in which,
within a few years, three heroines rose to prominence and in various
ways showed an ability surpassing that of the men of their age. It is
the story of these three women that we propose to tell.
Chanyang, a stronghold of Wei, had been placed in charge of Ginching,
one of the ablest soldiers of that kingdom. But the exigencies of the
war obliged that officer to make an excursion beyond its walls, taking
with him the main body of the garrison, and leaving the place very
weakly defended. Taking advantage of this opportunity, one of the
Chinese generals marched quickly upon the weakened stronghold,
surrounded it with a large army, and made so rapid and vigorous an
assault that all the outer defences fell into his hands without a blow
in their defence.
At this perilous juncture, when the place was almost in the hands of its
foes, and the depressed garrison was ready to yield, Mongchi, the wife
of the absent commander, appeared upon the ramparts, called upon their
defenders to make a bold and resolute resistance to the enemy, and by
her courage and animation put new spirit into the troops. Inspired by
her, they bravely resisted the further advance of the assailants and
held the walls, which, but for the valor of the heroine, must inevitably
have been lost.
Having thus checked the first onslaught of the enemy, Mongchi went
vigorously to work. The inhabitants of the place were armed and sent to
reinforce the garrison, the defences of the gate were strengthened, and
by promises of reward as well as by her presence and inspiriting appeals
the brave woman stirred up the defenders to such vigorous resistance
that the imperial forces were on every side repelled, and in the end
were forced to abandon the prize which they had deemed safely their own.
Not till after Chanyang was saved did Ginching return from an important
victory he had won in the field, to learn that his brave wife had gained
as signal a success in his absence.
The second woman whom we shall name was Houchi, wife of the king of Wei,
whose husband came to the throne in 515, but became a mere tool in the
hands of his able and ambitious wife. After a short period Houchi was so
bold as to force her husband to vacate the throne, naming her infant son
as king in his place, but exercising all the power of the realm herself.
She went so far as to declare war against the empire, though the contest
that followed was marked by continual disaster to her troops, except in
one notable instance.
As in the case above cited, so in this war a stronghold was
successfully held by a woman. This place was Tsetong, whose commandant
was absent, leaving the command to his wife Lieouchi, a woman of the
highest courage and readiness in an emergency. As before, the imperial
troops took advantage of the occasion, and quickly invested the town,
while Lieouchi, with a valor worthy of a soldier's wife, made rapid
preparations for defending it to the last extremity.
Her decisive resolution was shown in an instance that must have
redoubled the courage of her men. Discovering, after the siege had gone
on for several days, that one of the officers of her small force was
playing the traitor by corresponding with the enemy, she called a
general council of the officers, with the ostensible purpose of
deliberating on the management of the defence. The traitor attended the
council, not dreaming that his proposed treason was suspected. He was
thunderstruck when Lieouchi vehemently accused him before his
fellow-officers of the crime, showing such knowledge of his purpose that
he was forced to admit the justice of the charge. The energetic woman
wasted no time in this critical state of affairs, but, drawing her
sword, severed the head of the traitor from his body with one vigorous
blow. This act put an end to all thoughts of treason in the garrison of
Tsetong.
The courage of Lieouchi was not greater than her judgment and decision
in an emergency. There was but a single well to supply the garrison with
water, and this the enemy succeeded in cutting off. The ready wit of the
woman overcame this serious loss. It was the rainy season, and she
succeeded in collecting a considerable supply of rain-water in vases,
while linen and the clothes of the soldiers were also utilized as
water-catching devices. In the end the imperial forces, baffled in their
every effort by this heroic woman, abandoned the siege in disgust.
As for Houchi, the ruler of Wei, her ability was of a different kind,
yet in her ambitious designs she displayed unusual powers. Deposed and
imprisoned on account of the failure of the war, she soon overthrew her
enemies and rose to the head of affairs again, and for several years
continued to wage war with the emperor. But the war went against her,
and trouble arose within her kingdom. Here and there were movements of
rebellion, and the generals of the realm were at daggers' points to
supplant one another.
Amid these distractions the queen balanced herself with marked skill,
playing off one enemy against another, but her position daily grew more
insecure. Her power was brought to an end by her final act, which was to
depose her son and place herself in sole control of the realm. Erchu
Jong, a general of ability and decision, now rose in revolt, marched on
the capital, made Houchi his prisoner, and in the same moment ended her
reign and her life by drowning her in the waters of the Hoang-ho. Then,
gathering two thousand of the notables of the city, her aids and
supporters, on a plain outside the walls, he ordered his cavalry to kill
them all. Other steps of the same stern character were taken by this
fierce soldier, whose power grew so great as to excite official dread.
A general sent against him by Vouti, the emperor, who boasted of having
gained forty-seven victories, was completely defeated, and all the
results of his campaign were lost. Erchu Jong now formed the design of
reuniting the empire and driving Vouti from the throne, but his enemies
brought this ambitious scheme to an end. Invited to the palace on some
pretence, he was cut down in the audience-hall, the Prince of Wei, whom
he had placed on the throne, giving his consent to this act of
treachery. Thus was the death of Houchi quickly avenged.
_THE REIGN OF TAITSONG THE GREAT._
The history of China differs remarkably from that of Japan in one
particular. In the latter a single dynasty of emperors has, from the
beginning, held the throne. In the former there have been numerous
dynasties, most of them brief, some long extended. In Japan the emperors
lived in retirement, and it was the dynasties of shoguns or generals
that suffered change. In China the emperors kept at the head of affairs,
and were exposed to all the perils due to error or weakness in the ruler
and ambition in powerful subjects.
The fall of the great dynasty of the Hans left the way clear for several
brief dynasties, of whose emperors Yangti, the last, was a man of great
public spirit and magnificent ideas. His public spirit was expressed in
a series of great canals, which extended throughout the empire, their
total length being, it is said, more than sixteen hundred leagues,
Several of these great works still remain. His magnificence of idea was
shown in the grand adornments of Loyang, his capital, where two million
of men were employed upon his palace and the public buildings.
Yangti's son was deposed by Liyuen, Prince of Tang, and a new dynasty,
that of the Tang emperors, was formed, which continued for several
centuries at the head of affairs. The new emperor assumed the name of
Kaotsou, made famous by the first emperor of the Hans. But the glory of
his reign belongs to his son, not to himself, and it is with this son,
Lichimin by name, that we have now to do.
It had been the custom of the founders of dynasties to begin their reign
by the destruction of the families of their deposed rivals. The new
emperor showed himself more merciful, by pensioning instead of
destroying his unfortunate foes. His only vengeance was upon inanimate
objects. Lichimin, on capturing Loyang, ordered the great palace of
Yangti, the most magnificent building in the empire, to be set on fire
and destroyed. "So much pomp and pride," he said, "could not be
sustained, and ought to lead to the ruin of those who considered their
own love of luxury rather than the needs of the people."
While his father occupied the throne the valiant Lichimin went forth
"conquering and to conquer." Wherever he went victory went with him. The
foes of the Tangs were put down in quick succession. A great Tartar
confederacy was overthrown by the vigorous young general. Four years
sufficed for the work. At the end of that time Lichimin was able to
announce that he had vanquished all the enemies of the empire, both at
home and abroad.
His victories were followed by a triumph which resembled those given to
the great generals of ancient Rome. The city of Singan was the capital
of the new dynasty, and into it Lichimin rode at the head of his
victorious legions, dressed in costly armor and wearing a breastplate of
gold. His personal escort consisted of ten thousand picked horsemen,
among them a regiment of cuirassiers dressed in black tiger-skins, who
were particularly attached to his person and the most distinguished for
valor of all his troops. Thirty thousand cuirassiers followed, with a
captive king of the Tartars in their midst. Other captives testified to
the glory of the conqueror, being the vanquished defenders of conquered
cities, whose abundant spoils were displayed in the train.
Into the city wound the long array, through multitudes of applauding
spectators, Lichimin proceeding in state to the Hall of his Ancestors,
where he paid obeisance to the shades of his progenitors and detailed to
them the story of his victorious career. Unlike the more cruel Romans,
who massacred the captives they had shown in their triumphs, Lichimin
pardoned his. The principal officers of the army were richly rewarded,
and the affair ended in a great banquet, at which the emperor gave his
valiant son the highest praise for his services to the country. The
rejoicings ended in a proclamation of general amnesty and a reduction of
the taxes, so that all might benefit by the imperial triumph.
Yet there was poison in the victor's cup of joy. His brothers envied
him, intrigued against him, and succeeded in instilling such doubts in
the emperor's mind that Lichimin fell into disgrace and was strongly
tempted to leave the court. The intrigues, which had first dealt with
his good name, were next directed against his life, a plot to murder
him being devised. Fortunately it was discovered in time, and the death
they had planned for their brother fell upon themselves, leaving him the
emperor's unquestioned heir. The same year (626 A.D.) the emperor
retired to private life and raised his great son to the throne.
Lichimin, as emperor, assumed the name of Taitsong, a title which he
made so famous that he fully earned the designation of Taitsong the
Great. The empire was surrounded with enemies, the nomads of the north,
extending from Corea to Kokonor, and the warlike people of the south,
from Thibet to Tonquin. During the remainder of his life he was engaged
in incessant conflict with these stinging wasps, whose onslaughts left
him no peace.
Scarcely was he settled on the throne when the Tartar invasions began.
Their raids were repelled, but they instigated Taitsong to an important
measure. It had always been evident that the Chinese troops, hitherto
little more than a raw militia, were unable to cope with the sons of the
desert, and the shrewd emperor set himself to organize an army that
should be a match in discipline and effectiveness for any of its foes.
The new army embraced three ranks, each corps of the superior rank
consisting of twelve hundred, and those of the others respectively of
one thousand and eight hundred men. The total force thus organized
approached nine hundred thousand men, of whom a large portion were used
for frontier duty. These troops were carefully trained in the use of the
bow and the pike, Taitsong himself inspecting a portion of them daily.
This innovation roused bitter opposition from the literati, whose books
told them that former emperors did not engage in such work. But
Taitsong, on the theory that in time of peace we should prepare for war,
went on with his reforms regardless of their cited precedents.
Taitsong's new army was soon put to the proof. The Tartars were in arms
again, a powerful confederacy had been formed, and China was in danger.
Marching into the desert with his disciplined forces, he soon had his
enemies in flight, forced several of the leading khans to submit, and
spread the dread of his arms widely among the tribes. To his title of
Emperor of China he now added that of Khan of the Tartars, and claimed
as subjects all the nomads of the desert.
The next great war was with Thibet, whose tribes had become subdued
under one chief, called the Sanpou, or "brave lord." This potentate, who
deemed himself the peer of his powerful neighbor, demanded a Chinese
princess in marriage, and when this favor was refused he invaded a
province of the empire. Taitsong at once put his army in motion,
defeated the forces of Thibet, and made the Sanpou acknowledge himself a
vassal of China and pay a fine of five thousand ounces of gold. Then the
princess he had sought to win by force was granted to him as a favor.
The Sanpou gave up his barbarian ways, adopted Chinese customs, and
built a walled city for his princess wife.
The next act of the great emperor was to bring Eastern Turkestan,
conquered by Panchow more than five centuries before, under Chinese
rule. This country had admitted the supremacy of the emperor, but not
until now did it become part of the empire, which it has since remained.
The last warlike act of Taitsong's life was the invasion of Corea. Here
he won various great battles, but was at length baffled in the siege of
a Corean town, and lost all he had gained, the gallant commandant of the
town wishing the troops "a pleasant journey" as they began their
retreat.
Taitsong did not confine himself to deeds of war. Under the advice of
his wife Changsungchi, a woman as great in her way as he was in his, and
celebrated for her domestic virtues, talent, and good sense, he founded
the Imperial Library and the great College, decreased the taxes, and
regulated the finances of the realm. The death of this good woman was to
him a severe blow, and he ordered that she should receive the funeral
honors due to an emperor.
His last days were spent in drawing up for the instruction of his son a
great work on the art of government, known as the Golden Mirror. He died
in 649 A.D., having proved himself one of the ablest monarchs, alike in
war and in peace, that ever sat on the Chinese throne.
[Illustration: SHANGHAI, FROM THE WATER-SIDE.]
_A FEMALE RICHELIEU._
Five years after the death of the great Taitsong, his son Kaotsong,
Emperor of China, fell in love with a woman, a fact in no sense new in
the annals of mankind, but one which was in this case destined to exert
a striking influence on the history of an empire. This woman was the
princess Wou, a youthful widow of the late emperor, and now an inmate of
a Buddhist convent. So strong was the passion of the young ruler for the
princess that he set aside the opposition of his ministers, divorced his
lawful empress, and, in the year 655, made his new love his consort on
the throne.
It was a momentous act. So great was the ascendency of the woman over
her lover that from the start he became a mere tool in her hands and
ruled the empire in accordance with her views. Her first act was one
that showed her merciless strength of purpose. Fearing that the warm
love of Kaotsong might in time grow cold, and that the deposed empress
or some other of the palace women might return to favor, she determined
to sweep these possible perils from her path. At her command the unhappy
queens were drowned in a vase of wine, their hands and feet being first
cut off,--seemingly an unnecessary cruelty.
This merciless act of the empress, and her dominant influence in the
government, soon made her many enemies. But they were to find that she
was a dangerous person to plot against. Her son was proclaimed heir to
the throne, and the opposing officials soon found themselves in prison,
where secret death quickly ended their hostility.