A Vietnamese Family Chronicle

by Nguyen Trieu Dan

  The Mac king achieved a remarkably smooth transition. Law and order quickly returned to the country. The main concerns of the new monarchy were defense and China. It was recorded in the History of Dai Viet that soon after he took power and even while peaceful conditions were prevailing, Mac Dang Dung gave instructions to reorganize and strengthen the army. No doubt he feared that the Chinese would take advantage of the change of dynasty to put pressure on Vietnam. Also, many mandarins of the former Le remained opposed to his regime and he was well aware of that particular trait of Vietnamese psychology whereby a population disaffected with a dynasty would often reverse its attitude once that dynasty had been overthrown. Failures were passed over, only achievements were recalled. In the case of the Le, the military feats accomplished by Le Loi to liberate the country from Chinese domination and the golden age under the enlightened Le Thanh Ton were still in everyone’s mind. Although he had the situation well in hand, Mac Dang Dung knew that supporters of the Le could easily become an active opposition if there were government shortcomings or a bad harvest.

  All Vietnamese dynasties recognized Chinese suzerainty, usually in a nominal way symbolized by the periodical sending of tributes. A new king had to be invested by the Chinese emperor before relations between the two countries were normalized. That was always a difficult problem for the Vietnamese, for the Chinese would profess indignation-how could anyone dare to overthrow a vassal of the emperor, ask questions, pose conditions, or interfere in Vietnam’s internal affairs? Mac Dang Dung used a ploy already tried by other rulers before him. He sent an envoy to inform the Ming emperor that “the Mac family had to temporarily take charge of the country’s administration because the Le dynasty had left no descendant.” Unconvinced, the Chinese sent emissaries to Vietnam on a fact-finding mission. There, a special type of Vietnamese diplomacy came into play, “using flowery language and bribing the emissaries with vast amounts of gold and silver,” as noted by the historian. The Chinese envoys returned to report that no descendant of the Le could be found and that the population accepted the Mac rule; consequently, they recommended that the Ming emperor formally recognize Mac Dang Dung’s authority. This was rejected by the emperor who, however, consented to receive a tributary mission sent by the Mac. Although the investiture question was left pending, diplomatic missions were exchanged between the two countries. After three years on the throne and following a precedent set by the former Tran kings, Mac Dang Dung abdicated in favor of his eldest son. He said that he wanted to go back to fishing and enjoy it in old age. In fact, he continued to be very much involved in the nation’s affairs.

  His son Dang Doanh’s reign lasted over ten years, from 1530 to 1540. It started inauspiciously, with elements loyal to the Le rising up in the southern province of Thanh Hoa, the fief of the former dynasty. It took the Mac two years to quell the revolt. Then word came that a marquess of the Le, who had taken refuge in Laos, had started a restoration movement with the help of the Laotian king. He was Nguyen Kim, whose descendants would establish the Nguyen dynasty in the nineteenth century. Nguyen Kim found a nephew of the last Le king and proclaimed him king at his place of exile in Laos in 1533. The movement could now appeal to the strong nostalgic attachment of the population towards the Le. As written in the History of Dai Viet, “From that moment, many warriors and men of talent in the western region bordering Laos rallied to the restoration.” Nguyen Kim sent envoys to China to denounce the Mac usurpation. Seizing on the opportunity, the Ming court mobilized an army to go to Vietnam and punish Mac Dang Dung for having taken the throne of a Chinese vassal. The Mac were faced with a twin threat of civil war and external aggression. But for the moment, the threat was contained. Nguyen Kim’s forces stayed back in Laos; they were not yet in a position to confront the Mac army. As for the Ming Court, it could not make up its mind to attack Vietnam. The mandarins in faraway Peking were full of fight, but those appointed to lead the expeditionary army were much more cautious. The Mac negotiated with the Chinese at the border; as a result, hostilities were prevented.

  Meanwhile, the country enjoyed order and prosperity. Even historians of the Le had to recognize the almost idyllic conditions obtained under the reign of Mac Dang Doanh. This excerpt is taken from the History of Dai Viet:

  People going out on their business and other travellers did not have to carry arms or weapons to protect themselves. There was no thievery or banditry at night, cattle were left to pasture outside without the need of being brought home each day, only a monthly check was necessary and often it was not known to whom newly-born calves belonged . . .. Valuables dropped in the street were not picked up, gates needed not be closed, crops were plentiful and security prevailed within the country.

  Other historians, also mandarins of the Le, wrote about honest public servants and a strict and fair application of the law. They noted that the tax burden was lightened and the price of rice and paddy kept falling following good harvests. Dang Doanh was a wise king who also did much to encourage scholarship and learning. He ordered that the national university be renovated and personally made an inspection there. Doctorate examinations were held every three years without interruption, in spite of the change of dynasty. In short, Dang Doanh’s years were the great period of the Mac, their golden age. Mandarins who held positions of responsibility during that period could, justifiably, claim a share of the credit for the regime’s accomplishments. For Nguyen Tue, these accomplishments would have amply vindicated his decision to rally to the new dynasty and he may have retired a contented man, towards the end of Dang Doanh’s reign.

  Dang Doanh died in 1540. His son Phuc Hai was an ordinary man, quite unlike his father. He liked song and dance, wine and women and would not listen to the entreaties of his mandarins. Furthermore, he suffered from epileptic fits. His grandfather Mac Dang Dung, then in his seventies, was left to carry the burden of state. At that juncture, military pressure intensified against the Mac from two sides. In the south, Nguyen Kim’s troops came out of Laos to attack the provinces of Nghe An and Thanh Hoa. In the north, Chinese forces prepared to invade. What followed was one of the most bizarre incidents in the Mac history. This is how it was related in the History of Dai Viet:

  Mac Dang Dung and his suite went to the Nam Quan frontier gate with China. Bare-footed and with ropes tied around their neck, they crawled to the Ming command post and asked to capitulate. Presenting the register of lands and inhabitants of the country as a mark of submission, Mac Dang Dung ceded six mountain districts to China.

  That disgraceful episode has damned Mac Dang Dung in Vietnamese eyes more than the “crime” of usurpation for which he was condemned by the Le. It made author Tran Trong Kim brand the Mac king as a traitor to his country. Although the history of the Mac was written by their sworn enemies, it was accepted without question until recent times. No one doubted the veracity of what the Le historians wrote. Only in the 1950s did some authors begin reassessing the place of the Mac in our national history. About that frontier incident, so damning to Mac Dang Dung, serious doubts have been raised. It was pointed out, in the first place, that the Le historians relied on Chinese sources, which were themselves based on reports made to the Ming court by their commanders on the Vietnamese border. It is a known fact that the Chinese generals did not want to get involved in a war with the Mac. Their problem was to make the bellicose officials in Peking accept a peaceful solution. That could be the reason for their portraying the Vietnamese in an abject posture of surrender and presenting the solution they proposed as a glorious victory for China. Secondly, it is difficult to believe that Mac Dang Dung, an old king and experienced warrior who was, moreover, the mainstay of the dynasty after his son Dang Doanh’s death, would be foolish enough to deliver himself to an invading Chinese army. The Chinese had only to kill him or to take him prisoner, and the Mac regime would have been decapitated. No Vietnamese leader would trust the Chinese to the extent of risking falling into their hands. Many times in our history, the Chinese had asked tha
t the Vietnamese king make the trip to Peking to pay tribute; each time, excuses were given by the Vietnamese for not going. In 1596, after the Mac were defeated and the Le restored to the throne, again a Chinese army was poised on our border threatening to intervene and the Le king had to come to a meeting with the Chinese at the border. He brought with him more than ten thousands troops, just in case the Chinese might have some other ideas. Likewise, Mac Dang Dung would not have gone to his meeting without a military escort, let alone binding himself up as a prisoner.

  An agreement was struck at that meeting between Mac Dang Dung and the Chinese, by which China would call off the invasion and withdraw her troops from the border in return for our country becoming a dependency, instead of a vassal state, of China. Six small mountain districts would be ceded-the Chinese said that they would be “returned”-to China and the Vietnamese would resume their tribute missions to Peking. The Ming court approved the agreement and conferred on Mac Dang Dung the military title of Supreme Commander of An Nam, An Nam being the name that China gave to our country to show her dominance (it means “The Pacified South”). Dependency, however, was only a fiction as China was not allowed to interfere in Vietnam during the Mac dynasty. With the acceptance of that fiction, the military threat in the north had disappeared and relations with China were normalized. Mac Dang Dung could now concentrate his attention to dealing with the forces of restoration in the south.

  But he died soon after in 1541. The Le camp went from strength to strength and set themselves up in the southern provinces. The country became divided. The war between the Mac, or Northern court, and the Le, or Southern court, would not end before the sixteenth century was nearly over. Good men and bad men were found on both sides of that war; there were shining examples of loyalty and dark deeds of treachery on both. Even the Le mandarins who wrote the History of Dai Viet did not systematically praise or criticize the main players of that period by the side to which they belonged. They expressed their admiration for Mac Kinh Dien, a son of the second king and the best of the Mac generals: “A kind, generous and brave man who was intelligent and good in strategy . . . ; in spite of going through many dangers, he remained loyal and hard-working.” The folklore of that period, which reflected the views and feelings of the common people, did not side with either the Northern or the Southern court. Unlike history books, no folk songs or poems ever condemned the Mac for usurpation. Their complaints were against the war and the sufferings caused to the population.

  In those troubled and confusing times lived a famous Vietnamese prophet who must be mentioned here, for there were several indications linking him with our family, as will be seen in the next chapter. Nguyen Binh Khiem graduated at the 1535 doctorate examination, at the same session as our second ancestor Nguyen Uyen. A contemporary of Nostradamus, he left a treasure of prophetic sayings which Vietnamese believe still hold true nowadays. He was also a celebrated poet and the first scholar of his generation, having won the title of First Laureate. Considering his ability to discern future events, it is interesting to note that the First Laureate served the Mac who would later be condemned by historians as an illegitimate dynasty. A recipient of the Mac’s highest honors-he was a minister and a duke-the prophet was also held in high regard by those at the Southern court. And while his advice was often sought by the Mac king, he also had opportunities to influence the turn of events in the south. In 1556, King Le Trang Ton died there without leaving a descendant. He was only a nominal king. Power was in the hands of Trinh Kiem, the army commander, who toyed with the idea of taking upon himself the royal mantle. Trinh Kiem sent a secret envoy across the lines to the north to solicit the First Laureate’s advice. The story was told that the latter declined to give the envoy a direct reply. Instead, he took him to a nearby Buddhist temple. There, he told an apprentice monk: “Guard the temple, worship Lord Buddha and the food offerings of the faithfuls will be yours to take!” The envoy reported the incident to Trinh Kiem who understood the allusion. His role should remain that of the monk. He sent officials out to look for other surviving members of the Le and never again would he, or his descendants, think of doing away with the Le. They became hereditary overlords and ruled under the nominal authority of the Le kings, a system similar to that between the shogun and the emperor in Japan. In that way, the Trinh enjoyed “the food offerings” mentioned by the prophet and they stayed in power for over two hundred years.

  When he started his mandarinal career, at the bottom grade which was the lower ninth, Nguyen Tue’s annual salary was fourteen quan, our ancient monetary unit. To give an idea of its value, one quan bought about one hundred kilograms of rice. Salaries in those times were low. A top mandarin belonging to the upper first grade was paid only eighty quan a year. But as they advanced in grade, the mandarins received other emoluments. On reaching the lower seventh grade, our ancestor would be given his first executive position as the head of a small prefecture. Tradition prescribed that all villages in the prefecture make welcoming gifts of money and rice to the new prefect. As he could have a few dozen villages under his authority, the gifts amounted to a substantial payment. From the fourth grade upwards, he was granted land, the amount of which increased with each grade. A minister belonged to the lower second grade, but Nguyen Tue received the salary and land which went with his title of count and which were in a bracket above that of the highest mandarinal grade. Historical records showed that, at the end of the fifteenth century, a count was given an annual salary of one hundred and six quan and the following grants of land: two hundred mau of rice fields as a hereditary grant (or about seventy-two hectares, a mau being about 3,600 square meters); two hundred and thirty mau of rice fields as a life grant (eighty-three hectares); seventy mau of mulberry fields (twenty-five hectares); one hundred and forty mau of rice fields (fifty hectares) as a hereditary grant to provide for the expenses of the ancestors’ cult and the upkeep of tombs.

  In addition, a count received about three-quarters of a hectare of land and a half-hectare of pond in the capital to build his residence. He was entitled to a suite of aides and servants. The above grants applied during the reign of Le Thanh Ton, when the country enjoyed great prosperity and stability. Under the Mac, following several decades of unrest, the actual land that our ancestor received might very well have been less. But it must still have been very extensive, by the country’s standards. In the Red River delta, where for centuries the population had been heavily concentrated, five hectares of rice fields already made a man a wealthy farmer.

  The rice fields and mulberry fields granted to our ancestor were taken from the public estates of a number of villages in our prefecture of Thanh Oai. Hung Giao, the name he took with his title, was one of these villages. A titled mandarin usually received land from his own region, which then became something like his fief. However, Nguyen Tue’s position was not that of a feudal lord. On the one hand, his titles and privileges were tied to his mandarinal career and they could all be affected if his career went wrong. Under the ancient monarchy, a mandarin could easily lose title and function or be dropped to a lower grade; it was not exceptional to see a high official at the court being demoted to a junior post in a faraway province. In addition, the land given in life grants reverted to the state after the recipient’s death and hereditary grants lasted for only thirty years, or the space of a generation. In his lifetime, Nguyen Tue must have also built up important private assets, for the Cu Hau papers mentioned that a vast amount of cult land was donated to the Nguyen Ancestral Shrine in his generation, which meant he and his brother. The Shrine itself was probably built, or rebuilt, during their time.

  Nothing is remembered about his wife. The couple had only one son, who became our second ancestor. Old mandarins liked to retire to their native village, as the popular saying went, “to enjoy their fields and gardens.” Nguyen Tue probably spent the last years of his life back in Kim Bai and was buried out in the fields beyond its bamboo enclosure. Mandarins’ tombs were built according to well
-established rules. As our ancestor held the second grade, his tomb was a square of eighty meters, whose inside was a square platform of raised earth of forty meters. The grave lay in the middle. A low brick wall surrounded the tomb. In the open countryside, no one could have missed such a large tomb. But the Mac rule came to an end half a century after Nguyen Tue died, and his tomb did not survive the monarchy he served.

  Not only was his tomb lost. The memory of Nguyen Tue also became lost to his descendants. Fortunately, village folklore continued to remember the Nguyen Brothers’ academic prowess and provided a clue which helped my grandfather retrace our lineage back to our first ancestor.

  Nguyen Tue’s younger brother Nguyen Huyen graduated with him at the same 1511 session. I had wondered whether the two were twins, as the prophecy referred to the Mountain of the Twins, but Huyen was in fact much younger. The Southern Sky Register of High Graduates noted that he “won the golden board on his first try,” an indication that he was then a young man, probably in his twenties, or some ten years younger than his brother. Huyen obtained a higher rank, coming fifteenth out of the thirty five doctors who made up the third class, while his elder brother Tue only managed the twenty-seventh place. His career brought Huyen to the positions of administrator-delegate of a region, and first deputy minister of Justice. In his time, the national territory extended to the south only as far as Quang Nam province and the country was divided into thirteen administrative regions. At the head of each region stood a troika of delegates of the king, one in command of the army, the other of the administration and the third in charge of inspection. As administrator-delegate, Nguyen Huyen was the highest civilian authority in his region.