THE MING DYNASTY

A. D. 1368-1644.

Hung-wu. A. D. 1368-1398.

 

Chu Yuan Chang, having been once persuaded to accept the Yellow Robe, made no secret of his desire and determination to bring back the good old days of Yao and Shun. “The Beggar King,” as he is sometimes called, had been left an orphan at an early age, and, through the advice given in a vision by his dead parents, had entered a Buddhist monastery. From this he emerged, as we have seen, to join the ranks of the patriots who, under the leadership of Kwoh Tsze I, were beginning to make headway against the Mongol domination. The leader died soon after and committed the command of the insurrection to the ex-monk, whose success was rapid and complete. The new dynasty was proclaimed under the name of Ming, or “Bright,” and the new sovereign chose for himself, not without right, the name of Hung-wu, or “Great Warrior.” Justifying his throne name, he followed the defeated Mongols into Tatary, reconquered the Liao-tung peninsula, and established himself in Nan-king, the capital of the South. The war continued for some time under the conduct of his generals, among whom Suta especially deserves to be named. One incident in the war, moreover, brings to light the name of a real hero, Yu-kwang, who has right to his meed of praise. This general, having been captured by the Mongols, was led around the walls of Lan chi fu in order that he might urge submission. Instead, he cried aloud, “Be of good courage; Suta is on his way to help you.” Then he was cut in pieces by his captors and died, conscious of having saved the city from surrender. Meanwhile Hung-wu received at Nan-king envoys from many lands with presents and many flattering letters. Among the presents was a lion, the first, it is said, that had been seen in China. The last Mongol claimant to the throne of China died at Karakorum in A. D. 1370 and, though invasions were not infrequent for many years, all hope of restoring the old dominion was abandoned. Hung-wu set himself vigorously to work to restore everything that was Chinese. He compelled the use of the Chinese dress, performed personally the annual ceremonial plowing, and caused the Empress to offer the annual sacrifice to the spirit of the mulberry trees. He also reestablished the public schools and libraries and encouraged the arts and industries. One of the most important of his achievements was the compilation of the Law Code, known as the Pandects of Yung-lu, “which not merely simplified the administration of the law, but also gave the people some idea of the laws under which they lived.” In all this he succeeded in preserving his early simplicity and modesty, and several stories are told of rebukes administered to would-be flatterers which are as deserving of remembrance as the answer of Canute to his courtiers at the sea-side. On one occasion some of the grandees brought him some stalks of wheat which showed an extraordinary yield. This they presented as a proof of the wonderful virtue of Hung-wu’s rule. The Emperor responded that he did verily desire to see the time when all his subjects would enjoy peace and prosperity, but that, nevertheless, he was not vain enough to suppose that Heaven had done anything so unusual on his own account. On another occasion some Taoist priests came to him bringing a book which they declared contained the recipe for the famous “Water of Immortality.” The Emperor inquired whether the book and its secret availed for everybody or for himself alone. “It is only for your Majesty’s own use,” they replied. “That being so,” answered Hung-wu, “it is of no use to me, seeing that I will not profit by anything in which my people may not participate.” In line with this disinterestedness is the story of the Emperor’s having sent fur coats to his soldiers for their winter campaign, his instructions to officials proceeding to their posts to take particular care of the aged and the orphan, and the choice of his grandson as the most fitting successor rather than any of his sons. Naturally, from his old association with the bonzes, he favored Buddhism, but he seems also to have been fair to other creeds. The thirty years’ reign which came to an end in A. D. 1398 was on the whole a very prosperous one and presents a striking contrast to the contemporary career of the great conqueror, Timur, or Tamerlane.

Hung-wu’s Successors.

The succession devolved, as we have seen, upon the grandson of Hung-wu, Kien-zven, to the exclusion of the sons. Kien-wen, A. D. 1398-1403, was a youth of sixteen and his inexperience soon tempted a revolt which was headed by one of his uncles, Hung-wu’s fourth son, known as the Prince of Yen. The other uncles were degraded and one of them committed suicide, but the revolt, nevertheless, continued to spread, and soon attained alarming proportions. One of the royal generals was most fertile in resources for defending his city, dropping iron harrows on the heads of the assailants and hanging out numerous pictures of Hung-wu from the battlements in the belief that the Prince of Yen would respect his father’s portrait. But eventually Nanking was captured, the victor established himself on the throne as Yung-lo (A. D. 1403-1425), and Kien-wen, disguised as a monk, fled to Yunnan where he lived for forty years much more happily than he had done as Emperor. His identity was revealed at last through the publication of a poem and he was removed to Peking where he died. The new ruler, in spite of some outbursts of atrocious cruelty at the beginning of his reign, proved a capable sovereign. He made Peking once again the capital, carried his victorious arms far into the deserts of Tatary, and added to his dominions Cochin China and Tong-king. Probably by way of reaction against the extreme devotion of his predecessors, he renewed the proscription of Buddhism and sent many hundreds of priests back to their homes. He also burned the books of the Taoists and forbade any further search for the Elixir Vita. Notwithstanding his destruction of the books he was a patron of literature and produced the “most gigantic encyclopedia” ever known, a work which took over 2,000 scholars for its compilation, and ran probably to 500,000 pages. It was never printed, but two extra copies were made. Of the three transcripts of this great work, two perished at the fall of the Ming Dynasty and the third at the burning of the Hanlin College on June 23rd, 1900, during the Boxer Revolt. Like Hung-wu, Yung-lo received envoys and tribute from afar, including a rhinoceros from Bengal. But he can hardly have appreciated as much as most the luxury and wealth which his elevation to the throne brought within his reach, if the story be true that he discouraged the opening of newly discovered mines of precious stones in Shansi. “For,” said he, “such things as these can neither nourish the people in time of famine, nor preserve them from the rigors of cold.”

Yung-lo was succeeded by his son Hung-hi (A. D. 1425-1426), who, however, only reigned a few months. He died, it is said, as the result of superstitious terror when he learned that the stars were unfavorable. His short reign is only dignified by his recorded response to the ministers when a famine was being severely felt. They advised him that it was impossible to act without having recourse to the high tribunals. “No deliberations ; and no delays!” he cried. “When the people are dying of hunger one must relieve them as promptly as if it were a case of putting out a fire or stopping a flood.” Suan-ti, A. D. 14261436, is remarkable for nothing but for the Ha-roun-al-raschid-like habit of wandering disguised among the people to learn their condition, and for the loss of Cochin China which, in the year 1428, passed from the rank of a province to the category of tribute-bearing countries.

Cheng-tung, A. D. 1436-1465, reigned with an interruption of seven years, during which time he was a prisoner among the Tatars. A descendant of the old Yuan family captured and held him in spite of all offers of ransom. During his absence the throne was occupied by a brother, King-ti, A.D. 1450-1457.

Cheng-hwa, A. D. 1465-1488, and Hung-chi, A. D. 1488-1506, reigned with comparative quiet, devoted to the bonzes and even to the superstitions of the Taoists. Much public work was attempted at this time. Half a million men were employed in working certain gold mines in Central China, although the yield must have been disappointing if the total is rightly given as thirty ounces. The Great Wall was repaired and a canal dug from Peking to the Pei-ho to enable the junks to pass from the Yang-tsze-kiang to the capital. Unfortunately, however, the realm was more than once desolated by famine, and pestilence and cannibalism is said to have become rife in the west.

Arrival of the Portuguese.

The reign of Cheng-te, A. D. 1506-1522, is notable on account of the first arrival of Europeans by sea to Canton. “During the reign of Ching-tih,” says a Chinese work quoted by Dr. S. Wells Williams, “foreigners from the West, called Fah-lan-ki (Franks), who said that they had tribute, abruptly entered the Bogue, and, by their tremendously loud guns, shook the place far and near. This was reported at Court and an order returned to drive them away immediately and stop their trade. At about this time, also, the Hollanders, who in ancient times inhabited a wild territory and had no intercourse with China, came to Macao in two or three large ships. Their clothes and their hair were red; their bodies tall; they had blue eyes sunk deep in their heads. Their feet were one cubit and two-tenths long; and they frightened the people by their strange appearance.”

Raphael Perestrello was the first Portuguese to arrive, sailing from Malacca in A. D. 1516. The following year came Ferdinand d’Andrade with a squadron to Canton and was well received. The trouble came with the arrival of his brother Simon and the commission of many high-handed acts of outrage. Dr. Andrade was thereupon imprisoned and executed by the Emperor’s orders in A. D. 1523. Factories and settlements, however, were established at Canton, Ning-po, and Macao, which soon became the headquarters of the Portuguese trade with China.

Japanese Invasions.

 Cheng-te was succeeded by Kia-tsing, A. D. 1522-1567, whose reign was disturbed not only by invasions from the north on the part of the Tatars, but also from a new quarter, viz: Japan. The raids by the Japanese pirates in this reign began to be quite serious. Hitherto the inhabitants of the Eastern Archipelago, when they came at all, came as vassals; now, under the leadership of the great warriors of the Momoyama period, they not only considered themselves independent, but pined for new worlds to conquer. For three successive years, A. D. 1555, 1556 and 1557, they made descents upon the coast of Cheh-kiang with varying degrees of success. Twenty-five years later, in the time of the famous Hideyoshi, a much more deliberate and formidable attack was made. The Taikosama had long meditated the conquest of Korea, to which Japan asserted claims of long standing, and he was prepared to extend the reach of his ambition to China. In a letter written to the ruler of Korea “as a father to a son,” Hideyoshi said: “I will assemble a mighty host and, invading the country of the great Ming, I will fill with the hoar frost from my sword the whole sky of the four hundred provinces. Should I carry out this purpose, I hope that Korea will be my vanguard. Let her not fail to do so, for my friendship with your honorable country depends solely on your conduct when I lead my army against China.” The Koreans, with a more adequate knowledge of the resources of the Afiddle Kingdom, replied that for Hideyoshi to contemplate the invasion of China was like “measuring the ocean in a cockle shell, or a bee trying to sting a tortoise through its shell.” Hideyoshi, however, was in no wise dismayed. “I shall do it,” he said, “as easily as a man rolls up a piece of matting and carries it under his arm.” Two armies, one of them commanded by a famous Christian general, Konishi Yushinaga, were dispatched and ravaged Korea with fire and sword. Appeals to China led to the sending of a small force which was easily defeated by the Japanese at Ping-shang. Some futile negotiations for peace, in which the Japanese were outwitted by the Chinese diplomatists, followed, and the war was renewed in A. D. 1597. A great battle was fought in A. D. 1598 in which 38,700 Chinese and Koreans are said to have been slain. The ears and noses were pickled in tubs and sent back to Kyoto, where they were buried in a mound near the great image of the Buddha. The gruesome monument erected on the spot, together with the mimizuka, or ear mound, as it is termed, remain to the present day and represent practically all that Hideyoshi got out of his campaigns. Sense of failure weighed upon the great soldier at the last. He died with the words upon his lips, “Don’t let my soldiers become ghosts in Korea.”

Meanwhile the throne of China had passed from Kia-tsing to Lung-king in A. D. 1567 and from Lung-king to Wen-li in A. D. 1573. While the latter was trying to deal in a feeble way with the Japanese menace in Korea, he was also endeavoring to placate the Tatar generals in the North with the gift of lands and honors.

The Jesuits.

 Probably the most important event in the reign of Wen-li was the arrival of the famous Jesuit, Matteo Ricci. For some years the disciples of Loyola had cast longing eyes upon the Middle Kingdom. Francis Xavier, foiled in his attempts to set foot in the heart of the country, succumbed to fever on the little island of Sancian on Dec. 2, A. D. 1552. Thirty years later, Valignani mournfully exclaimed, “O mighty fortress, when shall these impenetrable brazen gates of thine be broken open?” It was reserved for Ricci in A. D. 1582 to learn the way to remain in China without offending too much the prejudices of the Chinese. With Michael Ruggiero, who had arrived at Macao in A. D. 1580, Ricci obtained leave to stay at Shau-king, and, as Dr. Wells Williams tells us, “in their intercourse with the people of all classes they won good opinions by their courtesy, presents and scientific attainments.” At first the Jesuits dressed as Buddhist priests; later they wore the garb of literati; and, when in A. D. 1601, they succeeded for the first time in reaching Peking, their knowledge of astronomy and mathematics made possible a stay which would have been cut short had they appeared as evangelists alone. Nevertheless, their converts were not few and some of them, like Paul Su and his daughter, who was baptized as Candida, were influential enough to protect their teachers from molestation. Ricci died in 1610.

The Manchu Invasion. The last years of Wen-li were under the shadow of impending invasion from the north. The famous Manchu chief, Nurhachu, who was born in A. D. 1559 near the source of the Yalu, in Korea, first appeared as a conqueror in the Liao-tung peninsula in A. D. 1582. Three years later all the confederation of Tatar chiefs recognized him as their king and we find him preparing for the conquest of China. In A. D. 1617 he published his memorable “Seven Hates of the Tatars against the Chinese,” concluding with the words, “For all these reasons I hate you with an intense hatred and now make war upon you.” This manifesto Tien-ming, or Nur-hachu, burned in the presence of the army in order that, thus spiritualized, it might pass into the presence of the dead as a witness against the Mings. Having thus put in the strongest light the various wrongs from which the Manchus asserted themselves to be suffering, the chief advanced into the border land, vowing that he would celebrate his father’s funeral with the slaughter of two hundred thousand Chinese. He seems to have fulfilled his vow only too well, and in A. D. 1625 fixed his capital at Mukden. Two years later he died without having led his army into China proper. His son carried on the work which had been begun, broke through the Great Wall in three places, ravaged the province of Chih-li, and advanced far enough to show that Peking was at his mercy.

The Last of the Mings.

Wen-li in the meantime had died, A. D. 1620, of a broken heart, and the Ming throne fell with all its burdens upon T'sung-cheng. The Manchu invasion was not the only menace of the situation. British commerce made a characteristic appearance at Canton in A. D. 1635. The vessels under Captain Weddell proceeded to the Bogue forts and, being fired upon at the instigation of the Portuguese,—“Herewith the whole fleet being instantly incensed, did on the sudden display their bloody ensigns; and weighing their anchors fell up with the flood and berthed themselves before the castle, from whence came many shot, yet not any that touched so much as hull or rope; whereupon not being able to endure their bravadoes any longer, each ship began to play furiously upon them with their broadsides.”

More serious was the insurrection that broke out under Li-tsze-cheng and Shang-lco-hi. The whole country, indeed, as an annalist testifies, hummed with the spirit of revolt, like a hive of bees in swarming time, but Li-tsze-cheng represented a coalition of rebel leaders known as the Eight Kings. Li was a village headman who had turned brigand, associated himself with a gang of desperadoes (a gang which included a famous female bandit), and had at length risen to the command of a powerful army. The Mings were reduced to the direst extremities. Kai-feng-fu was straitly besieged by Li, and human flesh was sold in the shambles for food. The Imperialist general endeavored to retaliate by cutting the dikes and flooding the country. “China’s Sorrow,” the Hwang-ho, was nothing loath to do its deadly work, but the inundation did nothing in return to help the dynasty in its extremity. Peking was soon invested and the end came not long after. The Emperor, with a touch of dignity about his death such as he had never shown during his life, committed suicide. He called around him the members of his family, and toasted them in the wine of the country. Then he bade his wife slay herself in her own apartment, which she did, strangling herself with a silken cord. Forty concubines followed the Queen’s example, and the Emperor himself attempted to slay with his sword his fifteen year old daughter.3Then he ordered his other children to be slain to save their honor, and retired to a favorite eminence in the palace grounds where he hanged himself. Ere he died he wrote on the lapel of his robe his last edict, ending with the words, “Hack my body to pieces if you will, but spare my people.” A eunuch who had remained faithful to the last stripped the body of the royal robes that it might not be recognized, and gave it the best burial that was possible under the circumstances.

The triumph of the rebels was frustrated by the Ming general, Wu-san-kicei, who at once opened up negotiations with the Manchus, inviting them to save the country from the revolting faction and re-establish order. Li advanced against him, but was badly beaten and forced to retreat upon Peking. Here he placed upon the ramparts the heads of the Ming Emperor’s murdered sons, and above the principal gate the bloody head of the Chinese general’s father. With a great cry, a cry which was at once taken up by all the army, Wu-san-kwei burst into the city. Li fled, deserted by most of his men, and died miserably soon after at the hands of local militia in the province of Hu-peh. The invited Manchus, nothing reluctant, now entered China to lay hands upon the spoil, and Tien-tsung dying in 1644 his son Shun-chi was proclaimed in the same year the first Manchu Emperor of China. The words of the proclamation are worth quoting:

“I, Son of Heaven, of the Dynasty Ta Tsing, respectfully announce to Your Majesties the Heaven and the Earth, that which follows: My grandfather having received the mandate of Heaven, founded in the East a kingdom which became mighty. I, the Servant of Heaven, although unworthy, have inherited his dominions. The Mings having become corrupt, rebels arose everywhere and oppressed the people. China being without government, I, faithful to the beneficent traditions of my family, have destroyed its oppressors and saved its people, after which, yielding to the universal request, I have fixed the seat of the Empire at Peking. Crowned with the blessings of Heaven, I announce that I have ascended the throne and have named my dynasty Ta Tsing, and my reign Shun-chi. I beg respectfully that Heaven and Earth may aid me to put an end to the misfortunes of my country.”