In China the Mid-Autumn festival falls on the full moon of the eighth lunar month, and is effectively harvest moon. It lines up roughly with Michaelmas in the Christian Calendar and Halloween in the Celtic calendar. They are all celebrations that mark the end of the harvest and present opportunities for feasting.
The Chinese festival is planned on a full moon as it is a celebration of all things lunar. For the sailors among us we know this is timed to the Autumn spring tide, one of the two highest and lowest tides in the year. For fishermen this may be the time to move boats to winter harbours.
Symbols of the Chinese festival include lanterns, which are like little moons, and are useful when you go out to observe the full moon. Moon cakes are hockey puck shaped pasteries filled with a paste made of sweet potato, or durian or lotus root. In the middle of the paste is a whole egg yolk, again a representation of the moon. The moon cakes are gifted to friends and family at the gatherings that characterise this festival. For many Chinese families it is a bit like thanksgiving.
The drink of choice to toast friends and family is Osmanthus Wine, which is not a wine at all. Most Europeans don’t know what osmanthus is. If you look at the image above you can see the branches and flowers of the osmanthus associated with the moon.
In China they have their own equivalent of the Greek Sisyphus, the King of Corinth who cheated death and was punished by Hades to push a boulder up a hill for all eternity. Wu Gang was condemned to an eternity of cutting down the Osmanthus on the moon. The Osmanthus tree flowers at the time of mid-autumn festival, and in fable the full moon occurs when the tree flowers all over the moon. Then Wu Gang has to cut down the tree until it is clear and the new moon occurs. The tree grows back gradually and this explains the phases of the moon.
Wu Gang chopping the tree is exactly like Sisyphus pushing the rock. It is an idiom for relentless and ultimately futile hard work.
The Osmanthus blossoms from Sweet Osmanthus (or sweet olive, or tea olive) have a scent and flavor profile that is unique but is likened to that of stone fruits such as peach or apricot. They can be made into a tea and can be infused into a weak chinese vodka (Baijiu) or rice wine (Hwangjiu) to make an alcohoic cordial around 20 proof. It is known in China as the “reunion wine”.
When you raise a glass you can toast to positivity with phrases such as “bright” “positive” “warm” etc linked to health, happiness and prosperity.
Quiet Night Thought 靜夜思 by Li Bai is a poem Chinese believe was written on the night of mid-Autumn festival by a lonely and homesick poet missing his family reunion.
床前明月光 疑是地上霜 举头望明月 低头思故乡
The pale glow by my bed I mistook for a frost was the bright moon reminding me of home comforts lost.
-=o0o=-
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Since 2023 is the year of the water rabbit in the Chinese 60 year zodiac cycle, it is a noteable year to those of us born back in 1963. We won’t very likely be seeing another Water-Rabbit in our lifetime. One of the big Chinese Holidays: Mid-Autumn Festival falls this Friday September 29th, just four days before my birthday.
We had an early exposure to the festival in UCC last friday on the final night of the Chinese Film Festival. Lighting up the stars was the movie and it was a great choice. A black comedy about a hapless family of losers who run an undertakers business in Wuhan, it was filmed just before the Covid-19 outbreak. It tells the tale of a troublesome orphan girl who is foisted on the family and become the agent for the ex-con business owner to grow up and take on the responsibilities of life.
Before the movie we were treated to activities like making Chinese Lanterns, eating Mooncakes, drinking green tea and throwing chopsticks.
Mid-Autumn is a harvest festival that dates back at least 2,000 years to the initial mentions of the term “mid-autumn” in the Zhou dynasty. It falls on the full moon of the eight lunar month, so it moves about in the solar calendar. The full moon is central to the celebration and moon cakes are a delicacy shared and eaten at this time. Thick pastry discs with characters for longevity or harmony stamped on them, filled with a heavy lotus or bean paste.
Now a popular mid-autumn poem by Li Bai, written after his poem was admired by the Emperor, but was not followed with a job offer. He bemoans being sidelined.
From a pot of wine amid the flowers, by the light of the moon I drink alone. I raise a cup to invite the moon to join me and my shadow makes a third. The moon takes no pleasure from wine, and my shadow follows me in silence. In this season between moon and shadow I must kick my heels until springtime. I sing to the wandering moon while my shadow dances about me. We are together while I wake, but drunk I sleep alone. I endure this platonic love and dream of possibilities.
-=o0o=-
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When this match opened I had a horrible feeling of deja vu of having come to the world stage and fallen apart. In prior world cups we have pulled out one big performance and fallen at the quarter final stage. There is still time to do that. Last night we pulled off our big performance.
The first twenty minutes of the game were dreadful for Ireland. The lineout, never a key strength for us, completely fell apart. As everyone predicted the South African forwards were dominant in the scrum, but it was worse than that. We were being penalized for early engagements before we could even compete with the Boks. A team that can’t manage the set pieces does not have a hope in the modern game.
Then came the bizarre sight of Johnny Sexton booting a ball into the corner instead of taking three points on offer. This was a display of the kind of arrogance that saw England give away so many Grand Slams over the years. Always give your opponents the respect of taking the easy early points. When we then failed to score, and the Springboks countered all the way back to the Irish line I felt we were going to come apart at the seams.
Then bit by bit the Irish began to put shape onto the game and claw their way out of a disaster. Up front the Irish forwards proved their mettle against the monsters of South Africa. They stabilized the scrum and fixed the lineout. Then they began to supply ball to the backs.
A big moment came when the Bomb Squad came off the bench and that was the ultimate test for Ireland. The Erasmus plan was to exhaust the Irish forwards to the point where the huge South African bench could roll them over. On the first scrum it seemed that the plan was working, but Ireland stepped up a gear and came back to level par.
Ultimately I have to point out that the Irish did not win this game. The South Africans lost it by missing a string of goal kicks that were, at this level, very convertible. They left 11 points on the field and lost the game by only 5. At this level, the world number 1 playing the world number 2 you simply cannot miss those chances. This competition is far from over for the Springboks.
Before the game I predicted that Ben O’Keeffe’s whistle might be key to which side exploited their game plan. Ultimately he did ping the Boks when they tried to lie over Irish ball and slow down the rucks. Overall he was accused by the Irish of favouring the Boks and the South Africans felt he was wearing an Irish Shirt, which is a good sign that he was fair and straight down the middle. Most importantly what we saw was two teams playing clean, technically excellent rugby at a manic pace for 80 minutes. Their high level of skill and fitness meant there were no head to head shots, no lazy swinging arms, no kickers taken out in the air, no no-arm/no wrap tackles, no yellow and no red cards. This is the game of rugby as it should be played.
I remember a line from an old movie – maybe the Masque of the Red Death, where someone commented that the greatest swordsman is more concerned with a raw beginner than he is with the second greatest swordsman, because the beginner could do anything, and you may not be prepared. So it seems in the World of Rugby. The big teams have more to fear from the small games, the inexperienced tier 3 semi-professional who is out on his feet by the 60th minute and puts in a dangerous tackle. Antoine Dupont is in treatment after such an encounter with Namibia. Johan Deysel, the Namibian Captain, plays Pro D2 level with Colomiers.
Ireland and South Africa appear to have emerged from their encounter bloodied, bruised and exhausted but unbowed, unbent, unbroken.
Invictus ; by William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears looms but the Horror of the shade, and yet the menace of the years finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.
-=o0o=-
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South Africa and Ireland meet tonight to decide what looks like the biggest head to head of this world cup. All the discussions revolve around the strategies. Rassie Erasmus has bulked up his bench with forwards. The strategy will be to stay in touch to the point when he can unleash the “Bomb Squad” and steamroll a victory over the pulverized Irish forwards.
Ireland under Andy Farrell has been a team that avoided the rigid tramlines imposed by Joe Schmidt in his world cup campaign. The Schmidt system worked until it didn’t. Once the moves were understood by other coaches they were effectively countered.
Farrell plays a system that has looser forms, where the players themselves adapt within a broader framework. As a result the patterns don’t exist to be countered. The more fluid style leverages the intelligence of the players on the ball. You get the feeling that we have seen very few of the training ground moves yet. If things get tight today you may see some magic on the field that you have not seen before.
The Irish forwards will certainly face a challenge to contain the South African’s bulk. They will need to play Aikido style rugby. Instead of fronting up to African muscle, use their power and weight against them. Absorb the force and turn it into a game of movement. Ruck ball speed is key to that style of play. The South African forwards will be using every trick in the book to slow the Irish ball. This is where the input of Kiwi ref Ben O’Keeffe will be crucial. The referees view of what is legal and what is cynical gameplay will determine how far the South Africans can push the limits of the laws. An early set of penalties or even a yellow card for discipline will suit Ireland.
If Ireland gain fast ruck ball and move to the width of the pitch the Irish wingers can bully the South African wingers and the Irish centres can carve open the Springboks line. If the antipodeans hold the game within the front eight Irish Eyes won’t be smiling. This is set to be the classic of pugilism, the South African Fighter against the Irish Boxer. Muscle vs Speed, Power vs Grace.
To Be Somebody; by Langston Hughes
Little girl Dreaming of a baby grand piano (Not knowing there’s a Steinway bigger, bigger) Dreaming of a baby grand to play That stretches paddle-tailed across the floor, Not standing upright Like a bad boy in the corner, But sending music Up the stairs and down the stairs And out the door To confound even Hazel Scott Who might be passing!
Oh!
Little boy Dreaming of the boxing gloves Joe Louis wore, The gloves that sent Two dozen men to the floor. Knockout! Bam! Bop! Mop!
There’s always room, They say, At the top.
-=o0o=-
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The 17th of September 1862 is known in US History as the bloodiest day. At the Battle of Antietam in Maryland, or the Battle of Sharpsburg as the rebs called it, 87,000 men of the Army of the Potomac met 38,000 men of the Army of Northern Virginia as Robert E. Lee attempted to bring the civil war to the Northern States.
By the end of the day 23,000 men were dead, wounded or missing, and this remains the greatest single day loss of American lives in history. The photo above is a re-enactment as you can tell from three observations: The colour photography, the vehicles in the background, and these men are way too well fed.
On the day of the battle it was not the headline news story. That honor went to the Allegheny Arsenal Explosion. 78 arsenal workers, mostly women, died in a series of massive explosions. Over 150 were injured. This was the largest civilian disaster during the Civil War. The Arsenal was filling rifle cartridges for the Union.
Women and girls were preferred to men or boys because they did not smoke. Many men and boys had been let go because they were carrying matches in their pockets.
The Arsenal was expanded from 300 employees pre-war to 1,100 workers at its peak. The speculation was that with so many new employees there were gaps in safety practice. Spilled black powder was not immediately cleaned up and lay in drifts about the site. Workers were not allowed the time needed to sweep it up.
Dupont & Company were supplying black powder to the arsenal. There were repeated complaints to Dupont about loose lids and defective barrels leaking gunpowder. It is suspected that they were reusing defective barrels. This is classic “shoddy millionaire” behaviour. It was well known that gunpowder causes deterioration in barrels but barrels are not cheap, so Dupont was reusing them.
With black powder lying about the roads and steps, and open or leaking barrels on the porch of the main lab, it took only a spark to set off the disaster. One theory is that a metal horseshoe sparked on a flint in the macadamized road that was built on the site and set off a chain reaction.
The commander of the Arsenal reported hearing three explosions one after another as he approached the main lab. Once fire was established the site became unapproachable as the completed cartridge rounds and cannon shot began exploding.
The army inquiry into the incident emerged with an “uncertain” cause for the disaster. In time of war it does not suit the military to penalize its own suppliers. This lies at the heart of all that is wrong with the military-industrial complex. The military may crack down on suppliers during peacetime, but in war they will forgive some despicable behaviour.
For Want of a Nail; Anonymous
For want of a nail the shoe was lost. For want of a shoe the horse was lost. For want of a horse the rider was lost. For want of a rider the battle was lost. For want of a battle the kingdom was lost. And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.
-=o0o=-
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Today is Mexican Independence day. This comes as something of a surprise to many gringos north of the border who seem to believe that May 5th is Mexican Independence.
On Sept 16th 1810 the Catholic priest Father Miguel Hidalgo Y Costilla rang his church bell as a call to arms for the people to rise up against the Spanish Government. It is celebrated in Mexico as the “Grito de Dolores” (The cry of sorrows) which I see regulary translated as the “Cry of Dolores”. Why half translate a phrase?
Why is it sorrowful? Most modern Mexicans call it El Grita de Independencia, which makes a lot more sense. It took 11 years and 12 days before Mexico wrested its independence from Spain, so in truth the 28th of September 1821 is the true date of independence. But who cares. Mexican food is delicious and you can eat it on May 5th, Sept 16th or Sept 28th, or indeed any other day you choose.
For dinner let’s make tacos.
Now for a soundtrack to this: Only one tune will do: Tequila!
-=o0o=-
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I did one of these back in 2019 and it is interesting to see what has changed since. You can compare with Checkpoint.
Reading:
Recent recommendations
In Arabian Nights – Tahir Shah,
The Fifth Head of Cerberus – Gene Wolfe
Current read
Re-reading the Histories – Herodotus
Next reads in my TBR pile
Masters of Death – Olivie Blake
Listening:
This American Life : 323 The Super
Blindboy Podcast: E212 The History of Brown Sauce and Door Handles
In Our Time (Melvyn Bragg): The Gin Craze
Our Fake History: #113 Who is Kiev’s most vengeful saint?
The History of Byzantium; #274 The 10 Worst Emperors
The History of Egypt: #50 Between Two Worlds
The Memory Palace: #75 The Ballad of Captain Dwight
Revolutions: S9E7 Morelos
Radiolab: The Cataclysm Sentence
Watching:
Star Trek DS9 with Gavin ( We did TNG & Voyager)
Andor (Star Wars)
Ted Lasso
Grace & Frankie (with Louise)
Seven Samurai
Rugby World Cup (with Jerry)
Trois Couleurs (Red White and Blue)
Absolutely loving Triskel Arts Centre for movies at present. Just saw Chevalier, Paris Revoir and L’immensitá. All fantastic in their own way.
Playing:
I have not played any computer games since coming to Cork. I do want to get back to game play.
Projects:
Participant Model.
JPM Integration
Deutsche Bank
Ervia Pension
Kids:
Jerry just back from presenting at conference in Malaga and working to publish his PhD this year.
Esha working with Qualcomm in Cork and currently house shopping. Going steady with Simon who is shortly returning from London with his Masters Degree from Imperial.
Gavin begins fourth year B.Eng in UCC tomorrow.
Fitness:
After seeing the Medieval Armoured Combat in Claregalway I signed up for training with the Knights of Munster.
Cholesterol is high so fitness is important, but I am also using red yeast rice as a supplement to bring it down. Watch this space.
I had a bone anchored hearing aid installed and am waiting for the scar to heal pending fitting of the hearing aid.
Politics:
The war in Ukraine grinds on. Putin failed to oust the Kiev leadership back in the first weeks of the war in 2022. Now he has painted himself into a corner where he cannot depart from Ukraine without a major loss of face. So he will continue to feed Russian lives into the Ukranian meat grinder until he is removed from power. The Ukranians will expand their offensive operations into Russia to bring this war into the homes of the Russian people. You can’t win a war fighting it in your own country. France learned this hard lesson in WW1. You need to bring the families of your opponents into the conflict so they see it in the flesh and not only in news propaganda. Will Ukraine become Russia’s Vietnam? Did they learn nothing from Afghanistan?
The Irish Government is in full election prep mode and are being hamstrung by the loss of the EU derogation on the Nitrates directive. This probably reads like Greek to most of you. More nitrates on land allow three cows instead of two per acre. But they cause nutrient runoff that pollutes the rivers and lakes. The EU has nitrate limits which de-intensify farming. The Irish Goverment secured a derogation because farmers invested in intensity after Milkageddon. The derogation is gone now and taking cash from Farmers in an election year is seldom a good idea.
Farmers in Ireland pretend they are the small 40 acre farms of our childhood. In fact they are horizontally integrated businesses which need to be treated as polluting heavy industry. The EPA are prevented from policing farming by the Dept of Agriculture who are defending the farming vote. The Climate Action vs Farming Industry battle is going to be a dirty and bruising episode for this nation.
Greta Thunberg remains active but is less in the news these days. The Climate Denial camp have lost their argument. They have moved from climate change denial to fighting rearguard actions to protect Oil & Gas. This week Ryanair boss Michael O’Leary got a pie in the face in Brussels. The Airline industry is becoming a major target of climate activists. Meanwhile in Dublin an activist group is deflating the tires on SUVs.
Donald Trump spends more of his time in court than at hustings and yet, sadly, he remains the lead candidate for the Republican presidency contention. What magical attraction this criminal mysogynist holds over his loyal supporters baffles me.
Boris Johnson is gone into the wilderness and the tone in the UK is softening from Hardline Brexit towards seeking routes to integration with the EU.
Car:
I need a fill but other than the weekly shop it barely moves off the driveway, which was the plan in moving to Cork. I did spin down to Sandycove in Kinsale for an early swim with Esha yesterday. It was glorious. On our return the traffic was building so we got out and back at the ideal time.
Louise:
Now working with SRL research and loving it. That was also part of the plan for the move to Cork. Hoping this becomes a permanent role in the near future.
Cat:
Remains with the house in Ballykelly. The new owners named her Jellybean. She has children to play with now.
Sporting Highlights:
Ireland Rugby team are No. 1 in the world rankings. Just as we were 4 years ago on the eve of the Japan World Cup. That was a disaster. The good news is that we hammered Romania yesterday 82 – 8. Jerry and I have tickets to the Bronze Final in Paris. Fingers crossed Ireland will play that weekend.
Four years ago Liverpool led the Premier League with 4 wins from 4 matches. They went on to win their first Premier League title. This year they won 3 and drew 1 and sit in third.
Poem that sums up my life right now:
This is a funny little love poem but it speaks of the interconnectivity and balance of nature. Mankind traditionally lived in harmony with nature, but colonial style depletion economics have ravaged this planet and thrown our systems out of balance to line the pockets of a small clique of billionaires. The US Economic model is the biggest threat to mankind today. Instead of working to fix it logically megalomaniac billionaires like Musk and Bezos build end of days fortresses in New Zealand and imagine colonies on Mars to escape the mess they are creating. Billionaires should not exist. Tax the rich.
Love’s Philosophy; by Percy Bysshe Shelley
The fountains mingle with the river and the rivers with the ocean, the winds of heaven mix for ever with a sweet emotion; nothing in the world is single; all things by a law divine in one spirit meet and mingle. Why not I with thine?
See the mountains kiss high heaven and the waves clasp one another; no sister-flower would be forgiven if it disdained its brother; and the sunlight clasps the earth and the moonbeams kiss the sea: What is all this sweet work worth if thou kiss not me?
-=o0o=-
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John Dillon, born Sept 4th 1851, was the last leader of the Irish Parliamentary Party. Son of the Young Irelander John Blake Dillon the young John grew up in comfort and was well educated in Trinity College Dublin and the Catholic University of Louvain in Belgium. He studied medicine at the Royal College of Surgeons but then opted for a career in politics.
Initially he was attracted to the land reform movement under Michael Davitt and he promoted the practice of Boycotting landlords and their bailiffs. In 1880 he won a seat in County Tipperary for the Westminster Parliament, where he joined the Irish Parliamentary Party under Charles Stuart Parnell. Dillon was seen as a radical and a hot-head and he was jailed for advocating agitation and rent refusal. His time in Kilmainham Gaol probably contributed to a spell of ill health which saw him retire briefly from politics and sojurn with his brother in Colorado. The good mountain air was the cure he needed and he returned as the member for Mayo in 1885, a seat he held until the Republican Landslide demolished the parliamentary party in 1918.
Dillon continued to advocate for agitation and continued to be imprisoned, serving at least six sentences in Gaol. His health continued to suffer and his attendance at Westminster became increasingly sporadic. When the Irish held the balance of power for the Liberal Government the opportunity for Home Rule presented itself. Dillon was opposed to John Redmond’s willingness to compromise on the Northern Ireland issue. Had Dillon been in the whole of his health the Home Rule question may very well have been settled in a manner that would have permitted a more peaceful transition of power. Instead John Carson exploited the weakness of Redmond to force amendments to the Home Rule bill using what Dillon labelled a “Gigantic Bluff” of an Ulster rebellion.
Redmond’s dithering and the advent of the Great War prevented the transition to a solid form of home rule and the entire movement became unpalateable to the radical Republicans. As a result we had 1916, the War of Independence and the Civil War. We had the creation of a Unionist led statelet in Northern Ireland which was and continues to be a barrier to the consolidation of the Island of Ireland into a single economic entity.
While spending all that time in Gaol Dillon wrote many political papers, and also the odd poem.
One of very few female Roman poets Sulpicia is thought to have been the granddaughter of Servus Sulpicius Rufus, a friend of Cicero. She wrote in the 1st Century AD and we have only 6 of her poems. This one (No. 2) was translated by John Dillon. She mourns being parted from her new lover Cerinthus on her birthday. She implores her uncle Messalla to cancel the trip saying that if she must travel she will do so only in body, and her heart and mind will remain in Rome.
Drat my hateful birthday; by Sulpicia (Trans: John Dillon)
Drat my hateful birthday to be spent in the boring old country. It’s going to be a day of mourning without Cerinthus to hug. Oh the joys of city life! Is a musty old country house any fit place for a girl? And that freezing river at Arezzo! Please, sweet Messalla, relax, too anxious, as ever, for my comfort! Banish this grim expedition totally out of your mind. If I’m to be snatched away I’ll leave heart and soul behind here, since I’m not to be granted licence to run my life.
-=o0o=-
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The village of Claregalway lies just to the east of Galway City in Ireland. Each year it is the site of the Claregalway Castle Shield, the premier Armed Combat event in Ireland and an International platform for armed combat teams. It is organized by Medieval Combat Ireland.
For those of you who, like me one week ago, never neard of armed combat, allow me to explain. On the surface this event looks like a renfaire but the key difference is that this is a sporting event. The struggles are real. Contestants armour themselves with as much plate steel armour and chain mail as they can afford over thick gambesons. I also saw some very snazzy brigandines. There are multiple categories including pole-axe, longsword, sword and shield and meleé.
Outside of combat the referees, scorers and supporters flaunt a variety of medieval outfits to enhance the atmosphere around the lists. What you experience is a medieval jousting tournament absent the equestrian events.
Here in Cork the Knights of Munster welcome newcomers who feel up to the challenge of wielding large blades and having them wielded at you. It seems like a great way to bond with a band of brothers, and sisters, while getting a solid aerobic workout. It is great to see a sport where the women stand toe to toe with the men, if they feel up to it.
The bouts give you a very good sense of what life was like for a medieval man at arms. Just as was true in real life some of the knights are better resourced than others. They have customized suits of plate armour covering them head to toe. Others have begged, borrowed and bought second-hand part assemblages of a suit to protect the most vunerable areas. Fighters and their squires were engaging in a wide variey of DIY blacksmithing to make running repairs on their kit between bouts.
The complex task of dressing a knight in armour limits the ability of contestants to step out of the suit between bouts. As a result they adopt a variety of postures, sitting and lying about in ways that take the weight of the steel off the body. The helmet is always the first thing to come off. This dynamic also has implications for using the bathroom. Combatants ration their water intake to meet what they lose in sweat. Too little and you dehydrate, too much and you need to pee.
My favourite photo of the day is this one taken just at the end of a three round bout. This knight is so exhausted he can’t take off his helmet until he gets his breath back. So he puts his head on the list to take the weight of the helmet off his neck.
When The Assault Was Intended To The City Sonnet 8; by John Milton
Captain or Colonel, or Knight in Arms, whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize, if ever deed of honour did thee please, guard them, and him within protect from harms, he can requite thee, for he knows the charms that call Fame on such gentle acts as these, and he can spread thy name over lands and seas, what ever clime the suns bright circle warms. Lift not thy spear against the Muses’ bower, the great Emathian conqueror bid spare the house of Pindarus, when temple and tower went to the ground: and the repeated air of sad Electra’s poet had the power to save the Athenian walls from ruin bare.
-=o0o=-
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On September 1st 1449 the Northen Yuan and Oirat mongols captured Emperor Yingzong of the Ming Dynasty in what was a major embarassment for the Dragon Throne.
I said it before and will say it again; people who live on horses are better cavalry than trained cavalry men. When the Yuan and Oirat forces came raiding down into the Ming territories in July of 1449 their forces were able to do significant damage. On August 3rd at Yanghe they inflicted a massive defeat on a Ming army, practically wiping them out.
Now the tale revolves around an ambitious eunuch and an inexperienced emperor. The eunuch, Wang Zhen, encouraged the 22 year old emperor to personally lead the army. Emperor Yingzong came to power at the age of 8 in a period when the Ming Dynasty was at the height of its power and stability. He was well guided by his mother, the Dowager Empress and her three senior advisors, all named Yang, known collectively as the Three Yangs. When the Empress passed away the Three Yangs retired or passed away. Wang Zhen gradually began to influence Emperor Yingzong more and more.
What young virile man does not want to lead his armies into battle? The Chinese assembled a mighty army of 500,000 men led by 20 experienced generals. At the head of such a force who could lose against a rag-tag band of Mongol raiders who could not have numbered more than 30,000?
Robert Graves in his novel “Count Belisarius” has a passage in which the genius general is ruminating about effective armies. He figures a good general can lead 10,000 men, a great general can lead 20,000 but it takes a genius to effectively lead armies of 40,000 and above. In truth, most battles are decided by a hard core of about 10,000 men.
The half million assembled by the Chinese were mostly raw recruits. The Mongol invaders were experienced veterans. When the Ming army set out the rain came down and they slogged through mud. Walking at the back of an army of half a million troops over muddy ground must be like trying to dance at the main stage in an open air festival during an Irish Summer. At Juyong pass, as they closed on the Yuan raiders the wise old generals begged their Emperor to return to Beijing. Wang Zhen overruled them.
They marched along the southern side of the Great Wall of China until they reached the battlefield at Yanghe on August 16th. There they found a field strewn with bodies which had lain in death for two weeks. A battlefield where crows fought with buzzards and foxes competed with wolves over the corpses of men and horses. A sobering sight for new recruits on their first campaign.
The army was supposed to turn North into Mongol lands to punish the Yuan. But the Generals cautioned the Emperor against this move and, possibly sobered by the sight of all the corpses, that plan was cancelled. From Datong they intended a loop back to Beijing by a southerly route, moving them further away from the Great Wall. Wang Zhen, the eunuch, had personal estates along that route. He feared the damage a massive army passing through would inflict on his income. So they returned back the way they came, through the sea of mud they had created, passing again that fateful battlefield.
As they slogged their way home the Mongol forces got wind of their movements, and closed up behind the Chinese. They wiped out the rearguard of the army. General Zhu Yong assembled a new rearguard from the army cavalry, but they were also wiped out. The Mogols had taken out most of the Chinese cavalry and probably all their most experienced troopers. Remember what I said about people who live on horses? The Chinese cavalry were no match for steppe nomads.
This left the Emperor with a massive infantry army of raw recruits to face a tight knit force of experienced veteran cavalry. On August 31st the infantry reached the post station called Tumu Fortress. The Mogols followed, and ensured they cut the Chinese off from water sources. On September 1st Wang Zhen tried to lead the Imperial forces away from the fort. The inexperienced troops could not hold formation. The Yuan advance guard attacked.
When cavalry charge disorganized infantry is when you see the greatest casualties on a battlefield. Well formed infantry units can defend themselves against cavalry charges. Horses will not leap into a spear line. But panicked men running in every direction? They are manna from heaven for horse archers and lancers. By all account the Ming army simply dissolved. The troops were cut down, the Generals died, Wang Zhen was executed by his own officers for the disaster and the Emperor was captured.
However, all was not lost. In Beijing the emperor had left his brother behind as regent, and General Yu Qian organized the successful defence of the city. The nomads rule the steppes, but on city walls the Chinese troops had the advantage. Horses can’t climb ladders.
A Tulip Garden; by Amy Lowell
Guarded within the old red wall’s embrace, marshalled like soldiers in gay company, the tulips stand arrayed. Here infantry wheels out into the sunlight. What bold grace sets off their tunics, white with crimson lace! Here are platoons of gold-frocked cavalry, with scarlet sabres tossing in the eye of purple batteries, every gun in place.
Forward they come, with flaunting colours spread, with torches burning, stepping out in time to some quick, unheard march. Our ears are dead, we cannot catch the tune. In pantomime parades that army. With our utmost powers we hear the wind stream through a bed of flowers.
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