Gems of Chinese Literature/Tso-Ch'iu Ming-The Battle of Ch'ang-Chŏ

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Gems of Chinese Literature
translated by Herbert Allen Giles
The Battle of Ch'ang-Chŏ by Tso-Ch'iu Ming

TSO-CH‘IU MING.

PROBABLY 4TH AND 5TH CENTURIES B.C.

[Very little is known of this writer, whose very name is a matter of doubt. His important work, the Tso Chuan,[1] was a so-called commentary on the Annals of the Lu State, mentioned on p. 1. Those annals consisted of bald statements of the principal events which took place in the successive years of each prince's reign. Tso-ch'iu Ming supplemented these by detailed accounts of the various incidents alluded to; and thus we have a vivid panorama of the wars and treaties, the intrigues and dissensions, the loves and hates, of China's feudal age. The style of the work is grand in the extreme, and is a perfect repertory of Chinese proverbs and familiar household words.]

1515457Gems of Chinese Literature — The Battle of Ch'ang-ChŏHerbert Allen GilesTso-Ch'iu Ming

In the tenth year of his reign, in spring, in the first moon, Duke Chuang defeated the army of the Ch‘i State at Ch'ang-Cho.―Annals.

THE State of Ch‘i having declared war against us, our duke was about to give battle, when a man named Kuei begged for an audience. Kuei's clansmen had said to him, “The authorities will decide upon the proper strategy; what place will there be in their counsels for you?” To which Kuei had replied, “They are but a poor lot, and have no idea whatever of deep-laid plans.”

Accordingly, Kuei was admitted to see the duke, and at once enquired, saying, “On the strength of what is your Highness about to fight?” “I have never monopolized the comforts of food and raiment,” replied the duke; “I have always shared with others.” “That,” said Kuei, “is a small favour, extending only to a few. The people will not rally round you on that account alone.” “Then,” continued the duke, “in the sacrifices to the Gods I have trusted more to earnestness of heart than to costly displays.” “That again,” objected Kuei, “is an insufficient basis. The Gods will not bless your arms on that account alone.” “And in all judicial investigations,” added the duke, “though oft-times unable to ascertain the precise truth, I have always given my decision in accordance with the evidence before me.” “Ha!” cried Kuei; “so far you have done your duty to the people, and you may risk a battle on that. I myself pray to be allowed to accompany your Highness.” To this the duke acceded, and took Kuei with him in his own chariot.

The battle was fought at Ch'ang-chŏ; and on sighting the enemy our duke would have forthwith given orders to beat an attack, but Kuei said “Not yet!” Only when the enemy's drums had sounded thrice did Kuei shout out, “Now!”

Our victory was complete; and the duke would promptly have given orders to pursue, had not Kuei again said, “Not yet!” The latter then alighted and examined the tracks of the enemy's chariot-wheels; after which he got up on the hand-rail in front, and following the flying foe with his eye, cried out, “Now!” Thereupon the order was given to pursue.

When the battle had been gained, our duke asked Kuei for an explanation of his tactics. “A battle,” replied Kuei, “depends wholly upon the martial ardour of the combatants. At the first roll of the drum, that ardour is violently excited; with the second, it begins to flag; with the third, it is exhausted. Now, when the enemy's ardour was at this last stage, ours was at its highest pitch: therefore we conquered them. Still, against a formidable foe, one should be prepared for anything. I feared an ambuscade; but I found that their wheel-tracks were in evident disorder. I then looked at their standards, and saw that these also were in confusion. Therefore I gave the word to pursue.”[2]


  1. This title has been taken by some to mean literally “Helping Commentary,” and the work has been attributed to Confucius himself.
  2. My first acquaintance with the sacred books of China was through the medium of Dr. Legge's translations; and when I subsequently came to make free use of native commentaries, I could not but be impressed by the strict verbal accuracy of his renderings, especially in regard to the Tso Chuan. To this rule there are necessarily exceptions, of a more or less serious character; but their grand total would be wholly insufficient to cast a shadow upon that which is truly a monument more lasting than brass. Sir Thomas Wade, whose scholarship was of a vastly inferior order, characterized Legge's work as “wooden.” His own rendering of “The Lun Yü, being Utterances of Kung (sic!) Tzŭ,” is beneath contempt.