You know what? It’s a New Year; now’s as good a time as any to sell out. Let’s forget all the boring political history and talk about what everybody is actually interested in: war. And more than just war, single combat.
That’s what everyone loves about Romance of the Three Kingdoms: the glorious stories of two great generals riding out to face each other in single combat between the battle lines.1
The popularity of single combat stories seems quite common across many different cultures, so the Romance’s gripping tales of glorious single combat is probably one of the main contributors to the story’s international popularity. It probably strikes a similar nerve as ancient tales like David vs Goliath in the Hebrew Bible, or Achilles vs Hector in the Iliad.
From a sociological speculation standpoint, I would guess that single combat traditions just make sense in ancient warfare. Ritualized single combat between two champions could be considered a de-escalation of hostilities. Rather than risk hundreds or thousands or tens of thousands of lives in a decisive battle between two armies, the two sides can decide to limit losses to one person if the stakes are low enough.
Then, as societies became more complex and bureaucratized, and the stakes of warfare grew higher, probably ritualized single combat began to fade away because leaders were becoming less inclined to accept de-escalation to single combat. Rather than accept defeat in exchange for limiting potential loss to one champion warrior, leaders sought to stick to higher stakes to gamble on eventual success.
During Zhōu through Qín
Records on Zhōu and earlier are sparse, but I would guess that if there ever was a time when single combat would have been most prominent, it would have been during early Zhōu, seeing as what is extant of records of Zhōu depicts a bronze age society based on chivalrous chariot warfare.2 And if there was a culture of single combat between champions, it probably ended amid the dissolution of Zhōu into the Warring States and the consequent bureaucratization of military power, especially by the heavily bureaucratized Qín war machine that eventually conquered all rivals.
Of course, that is not to say that chivalry was completely dead. It is possible that there were still miniature spontaneous one-on-one fights or other feats of personal bravery within the larger scale battles. From the collapse of Qín onward, Xiàng Yǔ in particular became legendary for many feats of personal bravery on the battlefield. My personal favorite story about Xiàng Yǔ’s valor:
The Hàn cavalry pursuers were several thousand men. King Xiàng himself judged he could not escape. He said to his cavalry: “From when I raised troops to now, it has been eight years. I have personally fought over seventy battles, all that I faced I defeated, all that I struck I subdued, never once have I been routed, and so I dominated and held Heaven’s Under. However now in the end I am trapped like this. This is Heaven destroying me, not a fault in battle. Today I will certainly die, but hope to have a pleasant battle for you sirs, and I will certainly take three successes: to for you sirs break the encirclement, to behead a general, and to cut down a banner, to let you sirs know that it is Heaven destroying me, not a fault in battle.”
Then he divided his cavalry into four squads, in four directions. The Hàn army encircled them in several layers. King Xiàng said to his cavalry: “I will take that one general for everone.” He ordered the four sides of cavalry to charge down, agreeing to form three groups to the mountain’s east. Therefore King Xiàng greatly shouted and charged down, the Hàn army was all scattered, and so he beheaded one Hàn General. At the time the Marquis of Chìquán [Yáng Xǐ] was a cavalry commander and pursued King Xiàng, King Xiàng glared and shouted at him, the Marquis of Chìquán man and horse were both terrified. Easily escaping several lǐ away [Xiàng Yǔ] joined with his cavalry in three groups. The Hàn army did not know where King Xiàng was, and so divided the army into three, and again encircled them. King Xiàng then charged and again beheaded one Hàn commandant, killing several tens to hundred men, again gathered his cavalry, and the lost were only two cavalrymen. Then he said to his cavalry: “How about that?” The cavalry all bowed and said: “It is as the Great King said!”3
By the way, that Hàn officer Yáng Xǐ did end up catching up to Xiàng Yǔ later and was one of five men who got a share of the bounty Liú Bāng placed on Xiàng Yǔ. Also, the Yáng clan of Hóngnóng, of which Yáng Biāo and Yáng Xiū were members, claimed to be descendants of that Yáng Xǐ.4
Anyways, though Xiàng Yǔ personally killing Hàn officers is an impressive feat of individual martial ability, it probably does not count as “single combat” in the ritualized Romance sense we are using here. And we may note that though Xiàng Yǔ won those engagements, in the end he was still destroyed by the pursuing Hàn army.
During the Fall of Hàn
So by the time of the Fall of Hàn and the Three States, very likely instances of ritualized single combat between two champions between the battle lines were rare, despite the Sānguó Yǎnyì portrayals otherwise.
We do have a few extant records of impressive feats of personal bravery, but those are more akin to the above Xiàng Yǔ story, as a personal achievement within a larger battle, and not the single combats glorified in the mythology. Probably the most famous example is Guān Yǔ killing Yán Liáng:
[Guān] Yǔ saw Liáng’s banner and canopy, whipped horse and stabbed Liáng in the center of the forces, cutting off the head and returning, of [Yuán] Shào’s officers none could match him, and so relieved Báimǎ’s encirclement.5
It should be obvious to all readers that this is not an example of ritualized single combat, though it could be argued that charging an enemy formation and killing the enemy officer in the middle of the battle lines, surrounded by enemy combatants, and escaping with the head, should be considered more impressive than a ritualized duel.
There is another famous incident of Sūn Cè and Tàishǐ Cì fighting one-on-one, but it might be debatable if it should count as a single combat in the Romance sense. The fight seems to have been a more spontaneous fight after two small scouting parties accidentally ran into each other, rather than any sort of ritualized duel:
[Tàishǐ Cì] alone with one cavalryman suddenly encountered [Sūn] Cè. [Sūn] Cè’s following cavalrymen were thirteen, all of Hán Dāng’s, Sòng Qiān’s, and Huáng Gài’s group. [Tàishǐ] Cì immediately charged ahead, directly with [Sūn] Cè facing. [Sūn] Cè stabbed [Tàishǐ] Cì’s horse, and grabbed and obtained the hand halberd on [Tàishǐ] Cì’s neck, [Tàishǐ] Cì also obtained [Sūn] Cè’s helmet. It happened the two side’s infantry and cavalry each came, and therefore they separated.6
A less famous incident but which is still occasionally cited is Yán Xíng and Mǎ Chāo, but it has been pointed out to me that as we lack context on the incident, it could just as easily have been (and probably was) a spontaneous fight within a larger battle and not a ritualized duel:
[Mǎ] Téng’s son Chāo was also famed for strength. [Yán] Xíng once stabbed [Mǎ] Chāo, the spear broke, and he used the broken spear to strike [Mǎ] Chāo’s neck, nearly killing him.7
There is also Páng Dé and Guō Yuān, but this incident is very likely to be similar to the Guān Yǔ case, with Páng Dé scoring a head in the chaos of battle, not a formalized single combat duel:
[Páng] Dé hand cut off one head, not knowing it was [Guō] Yuán. After the battle ended, everyone all said [Guō] Yuán was dead but could not find his head. [Guō] Yuán was Zhōng Yáo’s sister’s son. [Páng] Dé later from his saddle case produced one head, [Zhōng] Yáo saw it and wept. [Páng] Dé apologized to [Zhōng] Yáo, [Zhōng] Yáo said: “Though Yuán was my sister’s son, he was a traitor to the state. What do you have to apologize for?”8
If you’re wondering why Páng Dé was carrying the head around, he probably at least knew he had scored the head of a high ranking officer based on any surrounding guards, armor, and flags, even if he did not know exactly which officer it was, and he was probably hoping for a reward for turning in a high ranking enemy officer’s head.
The Real Deal
Now, I didn’t make you read all this to say that single combat duels never happened during the Fall of Hàn, because we do have one recorded instance of something that seems to be pretty unambiguously a chivalrous single combat duel between two sides to settle an issue:
Guō Sì was at the city’s north. [Lǚ] Bù opened the city gates and led troops to meet [Guō] Sì, saying “Let us dismiss troops, and ourselves decide victory and defeat.” [Guō] Sì and [Lǚ] Bù then alone faced in battle, [Lǚ] Bù with a spear stabbed [Guō] Sì, [Guō] Sì’s rear cavalry then advanced to rescue [Guō] Sì. [Guō] Sì and [Lǚ] Bù then each both withdrew.9
However, this example probably emphasizes the point that ritualized single combat duels were probably very rare, due to not being very effective in post Bronze age warfare. Though Lǚ Bù won the formal match against Guō Sì, Guō Sì’s siege of Lǚ Bù continued anyways and was ultimately victorious.
To close us out, I’ll mention that I once read a fictitious story10 set during the Japanese invasion of Korea (also known as the Imjin war) during the Míng. Supposedly there was one Japanese officer who had read Sān Guó Yǎnyì extensively and believed that its glorious tales of single combat was an accurate description of war. Therefore, he rode in front of the Míng battle lines, calling on them to send a champion out to meet him in single combat. The Míng troops had no idea what was going on and proceeded to blast him apart with cannons.
Or so other people tell me that’s what people like about it. I’ve never actually finished reading Sānguó Yǎnyì, personally. It upsets me too much.
For instance, records such as the Zhōu Lǐ and other texts describe military regulations with respect to chariot forces, and the size of states was even described in terms of number of chariots fielded in the military.
Shǐjì 7: 漢騎追者數千人。項王自度不得脫。謂其騎曰:「吾起兵至今八歲矣,身七十餘戰,所當者破,所擊者服,未嘗敗北,遂霸有天下。然今卒困於此,此天之亡我,非戰之罪也。今日固決死,願為諸君快戰,必三勝之,為諸君潰圍,斬將,刈旗,令諸君知天亡我,非戰之罪也。」乃分其騎以為四隊,四向。漢軍圍之數重。項王謂其騎曰:「吾為公取彼一將。」令四面騎馳下,期山東為三處。於是項王大呼馳下,漢軍皆披靡,遂斬漢一將。是時,赤泉侯為騎將,追項王,項王瞋目而叱之,赤泉侯人馬俱驚,辟易數里與其騎會為三處。漢軍不知項王所在,乃分軍為三,復圍之。項王乃馳,復斬漢一都尉,殺數十百人,復聚其騎,亡其兩騎耳。乃謂其騎曰:「何如?」騎皆伏曰:「如大王言。」
Hòu Hàn shū 54: 楊震字伯起,弘農華陰人也。八世祖喜,高祖時有功,封赤泉侯。
Sān Guó zhì (SGZ) 36: 羽望見良麾蓋,策馬刺良於萬衆之中,斬其首還,紹諸將莫能當者,遂解白馬圍。
Sān Guó zhì 49: 獨與一騎卒遇策。策從騎十三,皆韓當、宋謙、黃蓋輩也。慈便前鬬,正與策對。策刺慈馬,而擥得慈項上手戟,慈亦得策兜鍪。會兩家兵騎並各來赴,於是解散。
Annotated to SGZ 15: 騰子超亦號為健。行嘗刺超,矛折,因以折矛撾超項,幾殺之。
Annotated to SGZ 18: 魏略曰:德手斬一級,不知是援。戰罷之後,眾人皆言援死而不得其首。援,鍾繇之甥。德晚後於鞬中出一頭,繇見之而哭。德謝繇,繇曰:「援雖我甥,乃國賊也。卿何謝之?」
Annotated to SGZ 7: 英雄記曰:郭汜在城北。布開城門,將兵就汜,言「且却兵,但身決勝負」。汜、布乃獨共對戰,布以矛刺中汜,汜後騎遂前救汜,汜、布遂各兩罷。
I don’t recall where. If anyone else has heard a similar story, let me know.
The Imjin War anecdote is likely made up. For starters, Sanguo Yanzi was first identified by name in Japan in 1604 while the war lasted from 1592 to 1598. While this doesn't rule out the samurai hearing stories from the Three Kingdoms, it does mean the warrior would not have been an avid reader of the Yanyi.
Secondly, this story closely matches a samurai myth regarding single combat. It is commonly imagined that the samurai fought one-on-one on the battlefield after announcing their names and lineages, but when they fought the invading Mongols in 1274 expecting them to do the same, the Mongols just shot them dead with arrows. While there is a mismatch between Japanese and Mongol tactics, this difference is grossly exaggerated in the story: the samurai did not fight in such a ritualized manner; they fought in small units much like Medieval European knights in close encounters.