THE DAY IS OURS.

435 other near Techow, which place was in the possession of the Imperial forces. Both sides were anxious to begin an engagement that each hoped might prove decisive; and when the Prince offered battle his challenge was eagerly accepted. The engagement lasted several days from early dawn to setting of the sun, but whether the numbers engaged were so great as to render time necessary to produce any decisive result, or whether all fought with obstinate desperation, the balance of victory remained steady, and inclined to neither one hand nor the other. At one point, indeed, thanks to the intrepidity of two of Wenti's commanders, Tingan and Kuneng, the victory seemed on the point of being gained, and the cry was raised among the Imperialists, "The day is ours; now is the time to extinguish this revolt." The announcement was premature, and the Prince, heading his troops in person, restored the battle. The desperate position of affairs may be inferred from the fact that his boldest followers had counselled flight, and that, before he gained a moment's breathing-space to survey the field of battle, he had to head three charges, in each of which his horse was killed under him. Even then, the end appeared remote and doubtful, but the death of Kuneng and the dispersal of the two wings decided this hardly contested combat in favour of the Pretender. More than 100,000 men were either slain in the fight or drowned in the waters of the Euho during the pursuit; and Li Kinglong had difficulty in collecting the broken and discouraged fragments of his army in Techow. Even here the Prince allowed him no rest, and, inflicting a second defeat upon him, compelled him again to flee.

Wenti's first step, when the full extent of his defeat became known to him, was to remove Li Kinglong, the principal author, as was alleged, of this military disaster; and as it happened that his successor, Chinyong, was a soldier of considerable experience and skill, the very announcement of his appointment sufficed to restore the sinking confidence of the Imperialists. The result justified the choice, for in a very short time he had collected a large army, perfected all his preparations for a campaign, and drawn up strongly fortified lines round the town of Tongchang. The Prince having

taken several places which had hitherto resisted his arms, advanced rapidly towards this town, and took up a position at Lintsing, where he could draw supplies from his rear, both by means of the Euho Canal, and also from the sea. He did not make any protracted halt there, but continued his forward movement against Chinyong, who had placed a body of his troops in a village in advance of his main position. This corps was surrounded and destroyed almost to a man before Chinyong could come up to its support. But the Prince's troops, carried away by their success, pursued the fugitives too far, and were in turn assailed and driven back by Chinyong's main body. Their loss seems to have been considerable, and the Imperialists following up their advantage with close ranks, were carrying everything before them, when the Prince at last reached the field in person with his force. The two armies then closed in the shock of battle, and for hours the result hung in suspense. The Prince performed prodigies of valour, fighting on foot like a simple soldier, and the apprehensions of his friends were raised to the highest point when he and a small body of troops threw themselves into the midst of the enemy, and remained for a long time cut off from support in the masses of the foe. Nor did Chinyong evince in any less degree all the qualities admirable in a soldier; and when the long day's battle ended it left him master of the field. More than 30,000 of the flower of Yen's army encumbered the ground, and among the slain was his best and favourite general, Changyu.

To a struggling Prince or an embarrassed Government Fortune often gives a respite when on the eve of seeming destruction; and so did this gleam of success, transitory as it proved, carry gladness to the heart of Wenti. But seldom, indeed, has there been granted to those who have brought about their own ruin by their imprudence sufficient wisdom and sense to avail themselves of the grateful offering and to turn it to such account as to avert their fall; and this Chinese Emperor affords another instance of the established truth of the illustration. Wenti's first act on the news of his general's victory was to recall two of the most objectionable of his ministers and to reinstate them in their offices. This conduct

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inflamed the resentment of the Prince of Yen, who devoted himself with renewed ardour to the task of recovering the ground he had lost.

The war continued during the two following years with indecisive fortune, although victory generally inclined to the side of the Prince. Moreover, the area of his operations was steadily growing larger, and he was gradually drawing nearer and nearer to the capital. After a single reverse Wenti repented of his having replaced the two ministers who were recognized as Yen's principal opponents, and he again summarily dismissed them, confiscating their property at the same time. An attempt was made after this apparent return to a wiser line of conduct to effect an understanding between the combatants, and to put an end to a war which was devastating the fairest provinces of the realm. But although the Prince of Yen expressed his willingness to accept fair terms, and to conclude a pacific arrangement, the Emperor was so ill-advised that, in the persuasion that the season was too far advanced for military operations, he broke off negotiations when they promised a successful issue.

The year 1403 witnessed the outbreak of hostilities afresh and on a larger scale than ever. Both sides had apparently come to the resolution that it would be well to make a supreme effort to terminate the struggle by a final appeal to arms, and to accept the consequences of defeat. For a new bitterness had been imported into the contest, and the civil war, which originally possessed little more than a local character, threatened to involve the whole country. The Prince of Yen was denounced on all hands as a disturber of the public peace. His promises of reform were forgotten, and it was only remembered of him that he was breaking that law of obedience which it was one of his principal vaunts that he wished to enforce. The adherents of the two parties turned again with renewed fury and energy to the arbitrament of arms for a decision of the dispute.

The first encounter after this further resumption of hostilities was disastrous to the arms of the Prince, for in a great battle fought on the banks of the Imperial Canal, he was repulsed with heavy loss by Wenti's generals, Tingan and

Su Weitsou. The consequences of this reverse threatened to be more disastrous than the actual loss in men and officers, for his troops were so much disheartened by the defeat that they refused to march any longer against their foe, and clamoured for an immediate return to their own country. But the Prince evinced the fortitude of a hero, and strove to animate his soldiers with his own courage by exclaiming that he knew only how to advance, and not to retreat. His bold words failed to dissipate the effects of disaster, and although he remained several days without changing his armour, he had gained few over to his views, when an error on the part of Wenti's Government averted the disbandment of his force, and played the game into his hands just as it seemed almost lost.

The Imperialists owed their victory to the opportune arrival of Su Weitsou with a strong reinforcement, but no sooner had this success been obtained than orders were sent for the return of Su Weitsou and his corps. The morrow of their great victory found Wenti's generals incapacitated from following it up by this withdrawal of some of their best troops, and the blunder of their master furnished their opponent with the opportunity of retrieving his fortune. Both armies constructed fortified camps, and remained vigilantly watching each other's movements in order to seize any favourable opportunity that might present itself of attacking the other unawares. Neither side obtained any advantage until the Prince, whose spies kept him well-informed concerning the plans of the Imperialists, succeeded by a stratagem in drawing them from their entrenchments, when he fell upon them with his whole force. This battle was as short as it proved decisive. Wenti's army was completely overthrown. Many thousands of prisoners, including the generals in command, and all the spoil of the camp remained in the hands of the victor. With the defeat of this veteran army, and the capture of Tingan, the fate of the war was virtually decided. From that day the result was never in doubt.

In this moment of distress conflicting counsels were pressed upon the unhappy Wenti. Some advised him to withdraw into the southern provinces, and there continue the

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struggle, while others suggested coming to terms with the conqueror on the basis of a division of the empire. But the counsels of incapable men do not acquire decision in times of great peril, and while Wenti's ministers were advocating a leaden-winged policy, the Prince had crossed the Hoangho, traversed the fertile plains of Honan and Anhui, and planted his ensigns on the banks of the Great River, in the immediate neighbourhood of the capital. Emissaries from the Emperor were then sent, in the guise of suppliants, to the camp of the conqueror, but they failed to find in eloquence the means of reaching his heart. Thrice they beat the ground with their heads, but they were unable to do more than fill the cup to overflowing of humiliation and self-abasement. The Prince ironically apologized for causing them so much trouble, and also announced that he had not come so far to secure a division of the empire for himself, but to ensure the punishment of those who had outraged the honour of his family.

Some vain attempts were made to place Nankin in a position to stand a siege until the garrisons of the south, already summoned to its aid, could arrive; but the soldiers who had long fought the battles of their unworthy master with courage and fidelity were not to be replaced, and many of them had joined the service of their conqueror. The Prince did not leave the supporters of the Emperor much time to complete their plans. Little beyond forming a municipal guard had been done towards defending the city, when the Prince of Yen delivered his attack against three of the gates. In a few hours all was over, and the capital was in the hands of the soldier prince who had waged a civil war during more than four years, not, as he protested, for a personal object, but for the honour of his family and the benefit of his country. The sequel will show how far his protestations were sincere.

In the mean time, the reign of Kien Wenti had closed by his voluntary abdication. Unlike the traditional Chinese monarch, he clung to life when he had lost the station to which he had been called. He hesitated so long about seeking a place of shelter in the south that he was soon deprived of the chance of making a dignified exit; and when the news that the Prince of Yen held possession of the gates reached