Literally, “get the advantage of the ground,” which means not only securing good positions, but availing oneself of natural advantages in every possible way. Chang Yü says: “Every kind of ground is characterised by certain natural features, and also gives scope for a certain variability of plan. How is it possible to turn these natural features to account unless topographical knowledge is supplemented by versatility of mind?”
6. 治兵不知九變之術雖知五利不能得人之用矣 So, the student of war who is unversed in the art of varying his plans, even though he be acquainted with the Five Advantages, will fail to make the best use of his men.
Ts‘ao Kung says that the 五利 are 下五事也 “the five things that follow;” but this cannot be right. We must rather look back to the five “variations” contained in § 3. Chia Lin (who reads 五變 here to balance the 五利) tells us that these imply five obvious and generally advantageous lines of action, namely: “if a certain road is short, it must be followed; if an army is isolated, it must be attacked; if a town is in a parlous condition, it must be besieged; if a position can be stormed, it must be attempted; and if consistent with military operations, the ruler’s commands must be obeyed.” But there are circumstances which sometimes forbid a general to use these advantages. For instance, “a certain road may be the shortest way for him, but if he knows that it abounds in natural obstacles, or that the enemy has laid an ambush on it, he will not follow that road. A hostile force may be open to attack, but if he knows that it is hard-pressed and likely to fight with desperation, he will refrain from striking,” and so on. Here the 變 comes in to modify the 利, and hence we see the uselessness of knowing the one without the other—of having an eye for weaknesses in the enemy’s armour without being clever enough to recast one’s plans on the spur of the moment. Capt. Calthrop offers this slovenly translation: “In the management of armies, if the art of the Nine Changes be understood [_sic_], a knowledge of the Five Advantages is of no avail.”
7. 是故智者之慮必雜於利害 Hence in the wise leader’s plans, considerations of advantage and of disadvantage will be blended together.
“Whether in an advantageous position or a disadvantageous one,” says Ts‘ao Kung, “the opposite state should be always present to your mind.”
8. 雜於利而務可信也 If our expectation of advantage be tempered in this way, we may succeed in accomplishing the essential part of our schemes.
信, according to Tu Mu, is equivalent to 申, and 務可信也 is paraphrased by Chang Yü as 可以伸己之事. Tu Mu goes on to say: “If we wish to wrest an advantage from the enemy, we must not fix our minds on that alone, but allow for the possibility of the enemy also doing some harm to us, and let this enter as a factor into our calculations.”
9. 雜於害而患可解也 If, on the other hand, in the midst of difficulties we are always ready to seize an advantage, we may extricate ourselves from misfortune.
A translator cannot emulate the conciseness of 雜於害 “to blend [thoughts of advantage] with disadvantage,” but the meaning is as given. Tu Mu says: “If I wish to extricate myself from a dangerous position, I must consider not only the enemy’s ability to injure me, but also my own ability to gain an advantage over the enemy.
If in my counsels these two considerations are properly blended, I shall succeed in liberating myself...For instance, if I am surrounded by the enemy and only think of effecting an escape, the nervelessness of my policy will incite my adversary to pursue and crush me; it would be far better to encourage my men to deliver a bold counter-attack, and use the advantage thus gained to free myself from the enemy’s toils.” See the story of Ts‘ao Ts‘ao, VII.
§ 35, note. In his first edition, Capt. Calthrop translated §§ 7–9 as follows: “The wise man perceives clearly wherein lies advantage and disadvantage. While recognising an opportunity, he does not overlook the risks, and saves future anxiety.” This has now been altered into: “The wise man considers well both advantage and disadvantage. He sees a way out of adversity, _and on the day of victory to danger is not blind_.” Owing to a needless inversion of the Chinese, the words which I have italicised are evidently intended to represent § 8!
10. 是故屈諸侯者以害役諸侯者以業趨諸侯者以利 Reduce the hostile chiefs by inflicting damage on them; Chia Lin enumerates several ways of inflicting this injury, some of which would only occur to the Oriental mind:—“Entice away the enemy’s best and wisest men, so that he may be left without counsellors. Introduce traitors into his country, that the government policy may be rendered futile. Foment intrigue and deceit, and thus sow dissension between the ruler and his ministers. By means of every artful contrivance, cause deterioration amongst his men and waste of his treasure. Corrupt his morals by insidious gifts leading him into excess. Disturb and unsettle his mind by presenting him with lovely women.” Chang Yü (after Wang Hsi) considers the 害 to be military chastisement: “Get the enemy,” he says, “into a position where he must suffer injury, and he will submit of his own accord.” Capt. Calthrop twists Sun Tzŭ’s words into an absurdly barbarous precept: “In reducing an enemy to submission, inflict all possible damage upon him.”
make trouble for them, 業 is defined by Ts‘ao Kung as 事, and his definition is generally adopted by the commentators. Tu Mu, however, seems to take it in the sense of “possessions,” or, as we might say, “assets,” which he considers to be 兵衆國富人和令行 “a large army, a rich exchequer, harmony amongst the soldiers, punctual fulfilment of commands.”
These give us a whip-hand over the enemy.
and keep them constantly engaged; 役, literally, “make servants of them.” Tu Yu says 令不得安佚 “prevent them from having any rest.”
hold out specious allurements, and make them rush to any given point.
Mêng Shih’s note contains an excellent example of the idiomatic use of 變: 令忘變而速至 “cause them to forget _pien_ (the reasons for acting otherwise than on their first impulse), and hasten in our direction.”
11. 故用兵之法無恃其不來恃吾有以待也無恃其不攻恃吾有所不可攻也 The art of war teaches us to rely not on the likelihood of the enemy’s not coming, but on our own readiness to receive him; The _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ read 有能以待之也, but the conciser form is more likely to be right.
not on the chance of his not attacking, but rather on the fact that we have made our position unassailable.
The _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ insert 吾也 after the first 攻, and omit 有所.
12. 故將有五危必死可殺也必生可虜也忿速可侮也廉潔可辱也愛民可煩也 There are five dangerous faults which may affect a general: (1) Recklessness, which leads to destruction; 勇而無慮 “Bravery without forethought,” as Ts‘ao Kung analyses it, which causes a man to fight blindly and desperately like a mad bull. Such an opponent, says Chang Yü, “must not be encountered with brute force, but may be lured into an ambush and slain.” Cf.
Wu Tzŭ, chap. IV _ad init._: 凡人論將常觀於勇勇之於將乃數分之一耳夫勇者 必輕合輕合而不知利未可也 “In estimating the character of a general, men are wont to pay exclusive attention to his courage, forgetting that courage is only one out of many qualities which a general should possess. The merely brave man is prone to fight recklessly; and he who fights recklessly, without any perception of what is expedient, must be condemned.” The _Ssŭ-ma Fa_, too, makes the incisive remark 上死不勝 “Simply going to one’s death does not bring about victory.”
(2) cowardice, which leads to capture; 必生 is explained by Ts‘ao Kung of the man “whom timidity prevents from advancing to seize an advantage,” and Wang Hsi adds, “who is quick to flee at the sight of danger.” Mêng Shih gives the closer paraphrase 志必生反 “he who is bent on returning alive,” that is, the man who will never take a risk. But, as Sun Tzŭ knew, nothing is to be achieved in war unless you are willing to take risks.
T‘ai Kung said: 失利後時反受其殃 “He who lets an advantage slip will subsequently bring upon himself real disaster.” In 404 A.D., 劉裕 Liu Yü pursued the rebel 桓𤣥 Huan Hsüan up the Yangtsze and fought a naval battle with him at 崢嶸洲 the island of Ch‘êng-hung. The loyal troops numbered only a few thousands, while their opponents were in great force. But Huan Hsüan, fearing the fate which was in store for him should he be overcome, had a light boat made fast to the side of his war-junk, so that he might escape, if necessary, at a moment’s notice. The natural result was that the fighting spirit of his soldiers was utterly quenched, and when the loyalists made an attack from windward with fireships, all striving with the utmost ardour to be first in the fray, Huan Hsüan’s forces were routed, had to burn all their baggage and fled for two days and nights without stopping. [_See_ 晉書, chap. 99, fol. 13.] Chang Yü tells a somewhat similar story of 趙嬰齊 Chao Ying-ch‘i, a general of the Chin State who during a battle with the army of Ch‘u in 597 B.C. had a boat kept in readiness for him on the river, wishing in case of defeat to be the first to get across.
(3) a hasty temper, which can be provoked by insults; I fail to see the meaning of Capt. Calthrop’s “which brings insult.” Tu Mu tells us that 姚襄 Yao Hsiang, when opposed in 357 A.D. by 黃眉 Huang Mei, 鄧羌 Têng Ch‘iang and others, shut himself up behind his walls and refused to fight. Têng Ch‘iang said: “Our adversary is of a choleric temper and easily provoked; let us make constant sallies and break down his walls, then he will grow angry and come out. Once we can bring his force to battle, it is doomed to be our prey.” This plan was acted upon, Yao Hsiang came out to fight, was lured on as far as 三原 San-yuan by the enemy’s pretended flight, and finally attacked and slain.
(4) a delicacy of honour which is sensitive to shame; This need not be taken to mean that a sense of honour is really a defect in a general. What Sun Tzŭ condemns is rather an exaggerated sensitiveness to slanderous reports, the thin-skinned man who is stung by opprobrium, however undeserved. Mei Yao-ch‘ên truly observes, though somewhat paradoxically: 徇名不顧 “The seeker after glory should be careless of public opinion.”
(5) over-solicitude for his men, which exposes him to worry and trouble.
Here again, Sun Tzŭ does not mean that the general is to be careless of the welfare of his troops. All he wishes to emphasise is the danger of sacrificing any important military advantage to the immediate comfort of his men. This is a shortsighted policy, because in the long run the troops will suffer more from the defeat, or, at best, the prolongation of the war, which will be the consequence. A mistaken feeling of pity will often induce a general to relieve a beleaguered city, or to reinforce a hard-pressed detachment, contrary to his military instincts. It is now generally admitted that our repeated efforts to relieve Ladysmith in the South African War were so many strategical blunders which defeated their own purpose. And in the end, relief came through the very man who started out with the distinct resolve no longer to subordinate the interests of the whole to sentiment in favour of a part. An old soldier of one of our generals who failed most conspicuously in this war, tried once, I remember, to defend him to me on the ground that he was always “so good to his men.” By this plea, had he but known it, he was only condemning him out of Sun Tzŭ’s mouth.
13. 凡此五者將之過也用兵之災也 These are the five besetting sins of a general, ruinous to the conduct of war.
14. 覆軍殺將必以五危不可不察也 When an army is overthrown and its leader slain, the cause will surely be found among these five dangerous faults. Let them be a subject of meditation.
IX. 行軍篇 THE ARMY ON THE MARCH.
The contents of this interesting chapter are better indicated in § 1 than by this heading.
1. 孫子曰凡處軍相敵絶山依谷 Sun Tzŭ said: We come now to the question of encamping the army, and observing signs of the enemy.
The discussion of 處軍, as Chang Yü points out, extends from here down to 伏姦之所藏處也 (§§ 1–17), and 相敵 from that point down to 必謹察之 (§§ 18–39). The rest of the chapter consists of a few desultory remarks, chiefly on the subject of discipline.
Pass quickly over mountains, For this use of 絶, cf. _infra_. § 3. See also 荀子, ch. 1. fol. 2 後六星絶漢.
and keep in the neighbourhood of valleys.
Tu Mu says that 依 here = 近. The idea is, not to linger among barren uplands, but to keep close to supplies of water and grass.
Capt. Calthrop translates “camp in valleys,” heedless of the very next sentence. Cf. Wu Tzŭ, ch. 3: 無當天竈 “Abide not in natural ovens,” _i.e._ 大谷之口 “the openings of large valleys.” Chang Yü tells the following anecdote: “武都羗 Wu-tu Ch‘iang was a robber captain in the time of the Later Han, and 馬援 Ma Yüan was sent to exterminate his gang. Ch‘iang having found a refuge in the hills, Ma Yüan made no attempt to force a battle, but seized all the favourable positions commanding supplies of water and forage.
Ch‘iang was soon in such a desperate plight for want of provisions that he was forced to make a total surrender. He did not know the advantage of keeping in the neighbourhood of valleys.”
2. 視生處高戰隆無登此處山之軍也 Camp in high places, Not on high hills, but on knolls or hillocks elevated above the surrounding country.
facing the sun.
視生 = 面陽. Tu Mu takes this to mean “facing south,” and Ch‘ên Hao Do not climb heights in order to fight.
隆 is here simply equivalent to 高. The _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ read 降.
So much for mountain warfare.
3. 絶水必遠水 After crossing a river, you should get far away from it.
“In order to tempt the enemy to cross after you,” according to Ts‘ao Kung, and also, says Chang Yü, “in order not to be impeded in your evolutions.” The _T‘ung Tien_ reads 敵若絶水 “If _the enemy_ crosses a river,” etc. But in view of the next sentence, this is almost certainly an interpolation.
4. 客絶水而來勿迎之於水內令半濟而擊之利 When an invading force crosses a river in its onward march, do not advance to meet it in mid-stream. It will be best to let half the army get across, and then deliver your attack.
The _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ read 度 for 濟, without change of meaning. Wu Tzŭ plagiarises this passage twice over:—ch. II _ad fin._, 涉水半渡可擊; ch. V, 敵若絶水半渡而擊. Li Ch‘üan alludes to the great victory won by Han Hsin over 龍且 Lung Chü at the 濰 Wei River. Turning to the _Ch‘ien Han Shu_, ch. 34, fol. 6 _verso_, we find the battle described as follows: “The two armies were drawn up on opposite sides of the river. In the night, Han Hsin ordered his men to take some ten thousand sacks filled with sand and construct a dam a little higher up. Then, leading half his army across, he attacked Lung Chü; but after a time, pretending to have failed in his attempt, he hastily withdrew to the other bank. Lung Chü was much elated by this unlooked-for success, and exclaiming: “I felt sure that Han Hsin was really a coward!” he pursued him and began crossing the river in his turn. Han Hsin now sent a party to cut open the sandbags, thus releasing a great volume of water, which swept down and prevented the greater portion of Lung Chü’s army from getting across. He then turned upon the force which had been cut off, and annihilated it, Lung Chü himself being amongst the slain. The rest of the army, on the further bank, also scattered and fled in all directions.”
5. 欲戰者無附於水而迎客 If you are anxious to fight, you should not go to meet the invader near a river which he has to cross.
For fear of preventing his crossing. Capt. Calthrop makes the injunction ridiculous by omitting 欲戰者.
6. 視生處高無迎水流此處水上之軍也 Moor your craft higher up than the enemy, and facing the sun.
See _supra_, § 2. The repetition of these words in connection with water is very awkward. Chang Yü has the note: 或岸邊爲陳或水上泊舟皆 須面陽而居高 “Said either of troops marshalled on the river-bank, or of boats anchored in the stream itself; in either case it is essential to be higher than the enemy and facing the sun.” The other commentators are not at all explicit. One is much tempted to reject their explanation of 視生 altogether, and understand it simply as “seeking safety.” [Cf. 必生 in VIII. § 12, and _infra_, § 9.] It is true that this involves taking 視 in an unusual, though not, I think, an impossible sense. Of course the earlier passage would then have to be translated in like manner.
Do not move up-stream to meet the enemy.
Tu Mu says: “As water flows downwards, we must not pitch our camp on the lower reaches of a river, for fear the enemy should open the sluices and sweep us away in a flood. This is implied above in the words 視生處高. Chu-ko Wu-hou has remarked that ‘in river warfare we must not advance against the stream,’ which is as much as to say that our fleet must not be anchored below that of the enemy, for then they would be able to take advantage of the current and make short work of us.” There is also the danger, noted by other commentators, that the enemy may throw poison on the water to be carried down to us. Capt. Calthrop’s first version was: “Do not cross rivers in the face of the stream”—a sapient piece of advice, which made one curious to know what the correct way of crossing rivers might be. He has now improved this into: “Do not fight when the enemy is between the army and the source of the river.”
So much for river warfare.
7. 絶斥澤惟亟去無留 In crossing salt-marshes, your sole concern should be to get over them quickly, without any delay.
Because of the lack of fresh water, the poor quality of the herbage, and last but not least, because they are low, flat, and exposed to attack.
8. 若交軍於斥澤之中必依水草而背衆樹此處斥澤之軍也 If forced to fight in a salt-marsh, you should have water and grass near you, and get your back to a clump of trees.
Li Ch‘üan remarks that the ground is less likely to be treacherous where there are trees, while Tu Yu says that they will serve to protect the rear. Capt. Calthrop, with a perfect genius for going wrong, says “in the neighbourhood of a marsh.” For 若 the _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ wrongly read 爲, and the latter also has 倍 instead of 背.
So much for operations in salt-marshes.
9. 平陸處易而右背高前死後生此處平陸之軍也 In dry, level country, take up an easily accessible position This is doubtless the force of 易, its opposite being 險. Thus, Tu Mu explains it as 坦易平穩之處 “ground that is smooth and firm,” and therefore adapted for cavalry; Chang Yü as 坦易無坎陷之處 “level ground, free from depressions and hollows.” He adds later on that although Sun Tzŭ is discussing flat country, there will nevertheless be slight elevations and hillocks.
with rising ground to your right and on your rear, The Yü Lan again reads 倍 for 背. Tu Mu quotes T‘ai Kung as saying: “An army should have a stream or a marsh on its left, and a hill or tumulus on its right.”
so that the danger may be in front, and safety lie behind.
Wang Hsi thinks that 後生 contradicts the saying 視生 in § 2, and therefore suspects a mistake in the text.
So much for campaigning in flat country.
10. 凡此四軍之利黃帝之所以勝四帝也 These are the four useful branches of military knowledge Those, namely, concerned with (1) mountains, (2) rivers, (3) marshes, and (4) plains. Compare Napoleon’s “Military Maxims,” no.
1.
which enabled the Yellow Emperor to vanquish four several sovereigns.
Mei Yao-ch‘ên asks, with some plausibility, whether 帝 is not a mistake for 軍 “armies,” as nothing is known of Huang Ti having conquered four other Emperors. The _Shih Chi_ (ch. I _ad init._) speaks only of his victories over 炎帝 Yen Ti and 蚩尤 Ch‘ih Yu.
In the 六韜 it is mentioned that he “fought seventy battles and pacified the Empire.” Ts‘ao Kung’s explanation is, that the Yellow Emperor was the first to institute the feudal system of vassal princes, each of whom (to the number of four) originally bore the title of Emperor. Li Ch‘üan tells us that the art of war originated under Huang Ti, who received it from his Minister 風后 Fêng Hou.
11. 凡軍喜高而惡下貴陽而賤陰 All armies prefer high ground to low, “High ground,” says Mei Yao-ch‘ên, “is not only more agreeable and salubrious, but more convenient from a military point of view; low ground is not only damp and unhealthy, but also disadvantageous for fighting.” The original text and the _T‘u Shu_ have 好 instead of 喜.
and sunny places to dark.
12. 養生而處實軍無百疾是謂必勝 If you are careful of your men, Ts‘ao Kung says: 向水草可放牧養畜 “Make for fresh water and pasture, where you can turn out your animals to graze.” And the other commentators follow him, apparently taking 生 as = 牲. Cf. Mencius, V. 1. ix. 1, where 養牲者 means a cattle-keeper. But here 養生 surely has reference to the health of the troops. It is the title of Chuang Tzŭ’s third chapter, where it denotes moral rather than physical well-being.
and camp on hard ground, 實 must mean dry and solid, as opposed to damp and marshy, ground.
This is to be found as a rule in high places, so the commentators explain 實 as practically equivalent to 高.
the army will be free from disease of every kind, Chang Yü says: “The dryness of the climate will prevent the outbreak of illness.”
and this will spell victory.
13. 邱陵隄防必處其陽而右背之此兵之利地之助也 When you come to a hill or a bank, occupy the sunny side, with the slope on your right rear. Thus you will at once act for the benefit of your soldiers and utilise the natural advantages of the ground.
14. 上雨水沫至欲涉者待其定也 When, in consequence of heavy rains up-country, a river which you wish to ford is swollen and flecked with foam, you must wait until it subsides.
15. 凡地有絶澗天井天牢天羅天陷天隙必亟去之勿近也 Country in which there are precipitous cliffs with torrents running between, 絶澗, explained by Mei Yao-ch‘ên as 前後險峻水橫其中.
deep natural hollows, 天井, explained as 四面峻坂澗壑所歸 “places enclosed on every side by steep banks, with pools of water at the bottom.”
confined places, 天牢 “natural pens or prisons,” explained as 三面環絶易入難出 “places surrounded by precipices on three sides—easy to get into, but hard to get out of.”
tangled thickets, 天羅, explained as 草木蒙密鋒鏑莫施 “places covered with such dense undergrowth that spears cannot be used.”
quagmires 天陷, explained as 卑下汙𣾈車騎不通 “low-lying places, so heavy with mud as to be impassible for chariots and horsemen.”
and crevasses, 天隙 is explained by Mei Yao-ch‘ên as 兩山相向洞道狹惡 “a narrow difficult way between beetling cliffs,” but Ts‘ao Kung says 山澗迫狹地形深數尺長數丈者, which seems to denote something on a much smaller scale. Tu Mu’s note is 地多溝坑坎陷木石 “ground covered with trees and rocks, and intersected by numerous ravines and pitfalls.” This is very vague, but Chia Lin explains it clearly enough as a defile or narrow pass: 兩邊險絶形狹長而數里, and Chang Yü takes much the same view. On the whole, the weight of the commentators certainly inclines to the rendering “defile”. But the ordinary meaning of 隙 (a crack or fissure) and the fact that 絶澗 above must be something in the nature of a defile, make me think that Sun Tzŭ is here speaking of crevasses. The _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ read 郄 for 隙, with the same meaning; the latter also has 大害 after 天郄—a palpable gloss.
should be left with all possible speed and not approached.
16. 吾遠之敵近之吾迎之敵背之 While we keep away from such places, we should get the enemy to approach them; while we face them, we should let the enemy have them on his rear.
17. 軍旁有險阻蔣潢井生葭葦小林蘙薈必謹覆索之此伏姦之所藏處也 If in the neighbourhood of your camp The original text has 軍行, but 旁 has been generally adopted as yielding much better sense.
there should be any hilly country, 險阻 is 邱阜之地, according to Chang Yü.
ponds surrounded by aquatic grass, hollow basins filled with reeds, The original text omits 蔣 and 生, so that 潢 and 井 join to make a pair: “ponds and basins.” This is plausible enough at first sight, but there are several objections to the reading: (1) 蔣 is unlikely to have got into the text as a gloss on 潢; (2) it is easy to suppose, on the other hand, that 蔣 and afterwards 生 (to restore the balance of the sentence) were omitted by a copyist who jumped to the conclusion that 潢 and 井 must go together; (3) the sense, when one comes to consider it, actually requires 蔣, for it is absurd to talk of pools and ponds as in themselves suitable places for an ambush; (4) Li Ching (571–649 A. D.) in his 兵法 “Art of War” has the words: 蔣潢蘙薈則必索其伏. This is evidently a reminiscence of Sun Tzŭ, so there can be little doubt that 蔣 stood in the text at this early date. It may be added that the _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ both have 蔣, and the latter also reads 并 for 井.
or woods with thick undergrowth, I read 小林 with the _Yü Lan_ in preference to 山林, given in the original text, which is accepted by the commentators without question. The text of the _T‘u Shu_ up to this point runs as follows: 潢井蒹葭林木蘙薈者.
they must be carefully routed out and searched; for these are places where men in ambush or insidious spies are likely to be lurking.
The original text omits 藏, which has been restored from the _T‘ung substantive. On 姦 Chang Yü has the note: 又慮姦細潛隱覘我虛實聽我號令 伏姦當爲兩事 “We must also be on our guard against traitors who may lie in close covert, secretly spying out our weaknesses and overhearing our instructions. _Fu_ and _chien_ are to be taken separately.”
18. 敵近而靜者恃其險也 When the enemy is close at hand and remains quiet, he is relying on the natural strength of his position.
Here begin Sun Tzŭ’s remarks on the reading of signs, much of which is so good that it could almost be included in a modern manual like Gen. Baden-Powell’s “Aids to Scouting.”
19. 遠而挑戰者欲人之進也 When he keeps aloof and tries to provoke a battle, he is anxious for the other side to advance.
Probably because we are in a strong position from which he wishes to dislodge us. “If he came close up to us,” says Tu Mu, “and tried to force a battle, he would seem to despise us, and there would be less probability of our responding to the challenge.”
20. 其所居者易利也 If his place of encampment is easy of access, he is tendering a bait.
易 is here the opposite of 險 in § 18. The reading of the _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_, 其所處者居易利也, is pretty obviously corrupt.
The original text, which transposes 易 and 者, may very possibly be right. Tu Mu tells us that there is yet another reading: 士爭其所居者易利也.
21. 衆樹動者來也衆草多障者疑也 Movement amongst the trees of a forest shows that the enemy is advancing.
Ts‘ao Kung explains this as “felling trees to clear a passage,” and Chang Yü says: “Every army sends out scouts to climb high places and observe the enemy. If a scout sees that the trees of a forest are moving and shaking, he may know that they are being cut down to clear a passage for the enemy’s march.”
The appearance of a number of screens in the midst of thick grass means that the enemy wants to make us suspicious.
Whenever the meaning of a passage happens to be somewhat elusive, Capt. Calthrop seems to consider himself justified in giving free rein to the imagination. Thus, though his text is here identical with ours, he renders the above: “Broken branches and trodden grass, as of the passing of a large host, must be regarded with suspicion.” Tu Yu’s explanation, borrowed from Ts‘ao Kung, is as follows: “The presence of a number of screens or sheds in the midst of thick vegetation is a sure sign that the enemy has fled and, fearing pursuit, has constructed these hiding-places in order to make us suspect an ambush.” It appears that these “screens” were hastily knotted together out of any long grass which the retreating enemy happened to come across.
22. 鳥起者伏也獸駭者覆也 The rising of birds in their flight is the sign of an ambuscade.
Chang Yü’s explanation is doubtless right: “When birds that are flying along in a straight line suddenly shoot upwards, it means that soldiers are in ambush at the spot beneath.”
Startled beasts indicate that a sudden attack is coming.
An example of 覆 _fou_^4 in the meaning of “ambuscade” may be found in the _Tso Chuan_, 隱 9th year: 君爲三覆以待之. In the present passage, however, it is to be distinguished from 伏 just above, in that it implies onward motion on the part of the attacking force.
Thus, Li Ch‘üan defines it as 不意而至, and Tu Mu as 來襲我也.
23. 塵高而銳者車來也卑而廣者徒來也散而條達者樵採也少而往來者營軍也 When there is dust rising in a high column, it is the sign of chariots advancing; when the dust is low, but spread over a wide area, it betokens the approach of infantry.
高而銳 “high and sharp,” or rising to a peak, is of course somewhat exaggerated as applied to dust. The commentators explain the phenomenon by saying that horses and chariots, being heavier than men, raise more dust, and also follow one another in the same wheel-track, whereas foot-soldiers would be marching in ranks, many abreast. According to Chang Yü, “every army on the march must have scouts (探候之人) some way in advance, who on sighting dust raised by the enemy, will gallop back and report it to the commander-in-chief.” Cf. Gen. Baden-Powell: “As you move along, say, in a hostile country, your eyes should be looking afar for the enemy or any signs of him: figures, dust rising, birds getting up, glitter of arms, etc.”[174] When it branches out in different directions, it shows that parties have been sent to collect firewood.
There is some doubt about the reading 樵採. The _T‘ung Tien_ and _Yü Lan_ have 薪採, and Li Ch‘üan proposes 薪來.
A few clouds of dust moving to and fro signify that the army is encamping.
Chang Yü says: “In apportioning the defences for a cantonment, light horse will be sent out to survey the position and ascertain the weak and strong points all along its circumference. Hence the small quantity of dust and its motion.”
24. 辭卑而益備者進也辭强而進驅者退也 Humble words and increased preparations are signs that the enemy is about to advance.
“As though they stood in great fear of us,” says Tu Mu. “Their object is to make us contemptuous and careless, after which they will attack us.” Chang Yü alludes to the story of 田單 T‘ien Tan of the Ch‘i State, who in 279 B.C. was hard-pressed in his defence of 卽墨 Chi-mo against the Yen forces, led by 騎劫 Ch‘i Chieh. In ch.
82 of the _Shih Chi_ we read: “T‘ien Tan openly said: ‘My only fear is that the Yen army may cut off the noses of their Ch‘i prisoners and place them in the front rank to fight against us; that would be the undoing of our city.’ The other side being informed of this speech, at once acted on the suggestion; but those within the city were enraged at seeing their fellow-countrymen thus mutilated, and fearing only lest they should fall into the enemy’s hands, were nerved to defend themselves more obstinately than ever. Once again T‘ien Tan sent back converted spies who reported these words to the enemy: ‘What I dread most is that the men of Yen may dig up the ancestral tombs outside the town, and by inflicting this indignity on our forefathers cause us to become faint-hearted.’ Forthwith the besiegers dug up all the graves and burned the corpses lying in them. And the inhabitants of Chi-mo, witnessing the outrage from the city-walls, wept passionately and were all impatient to go out and fight, their fury being increased tenfold. T‘ien Tan knew then that his soldiers were ready for any enterprise. But instead of a sword, he himself took a mattock in his hands, and ordered others to be distributed amongst his best warriors, while the ranks were filled up with their wives and concubines. He then served out all the remaining rations and bade his men eat their fill. The regular soldiers were told to keep out of sight, and the walls were manned with the old and weaker men and with women. This done, envoys were despatched to the enemy’s camp to arrange terms of surrender, whereupon the Yen army began shouting for joy. T‘ien Tan also collected 20,000 ounces of silver from the people, and got the wealthy citizens of Chi-mo to send it to the Yen general with the prayer that, when the town capitulated, he would not allow their homes to be plundered or their women to be maltreated. Ch‘i Chieh, in high good humour, granted their prayer; but his army now became increasingly slack and careless. Meanwhile, T‘ien Tan got together a thousand oxen, decked them with pieces of red silk, painted their bodies, dragon-like, with coloured stripes, and fastened sharp blades on their horns and well-greased rushes on their tails. When night came on, he lighted the ends of the rushes, and drove the oxen through a number of holes which he had pierced in the walls, backing them up with a force of 5000 picked warriors.
The animals, maddened with pain, dashed furiously into the enemy’s camp where they caused the utmost confusion and dismay; for their tails acted as torches, showing up the hideous pattern on their bodies, and the weapons on their horns killed or wounded any with whom they came into contact. In the meantime, the band of 5000 had crept up with gags in their mouths, and now threw themselves on the enemy. At the same moment a frightful din arose in the city itself, all those that remained behind making as much noise as possible by banging drums and hammering on bronze vessels, until heaven and earth were convulsed by the uproar. Terror-stricken, the Yen army fled in disorder, hotly pursued by the men of Ch‘i, who succeeded in slaying their general Ch‘i Chieh...The result of the battle was the ultimate recovery of some seventy cities which had belonged to the Ch‘i State.”
Violent language and driving forward as if to the attack are signs that he will retreat.
I follow the original text here, also adopted by the _T‘u Shu_.
The standard text reads 辭詭而强進驅者退也 on the strength of Ts‘ao Kung’s commentary 詭詐也, which shows that his text included the word 詭. Strong as this ground is, I do not think it can counterbalance the obvious superiority of the other reading in point of sense. 詭 not only provides no antithesis to 卑, but makes the whole passage absurd; for if the language of the enemy is calculated to deceive, it cannot be known as deceitful at the time, and can therefore afford no “sign.” Moreover, the extra word in 强進驅者 (an awkward locution, by the way) spoils the parallelism with 益備者.
25. 輕車先出居其側者陳也 When the light chariots The same, according to Tu Yu, as the 馳車 of II. § 1.
come out first and take up a position on the wings, it is a sign that the enemy is forming for battle.
26. 無約而請和者謀也 Peace proposals unaccompanied by a sworn covenant indicate a plot.
Tu Yu defines 約 as 要約, and Li Ch‘üan as 質盟之約 “a treaty confirmed by oaths and hostages.” Wang Hsi and Chang Yü, on the