Taiwan Today

Many teenage boys share the experience of hiding under their blanket late into the night reading a Chinese swordfighting novel. These stories of swashbuckling adventure are the stuff that adolescent fantasies are made of: swordsmen with almost supernatural powers leaping to the tops of high walls, flying across roofs, appearing wherever justice needs to be done. And no swordfighting fantasy is complete without at least one priceless, magically endowed sword. It might be an elaborate jeweled weapon or a plain piece of seemingly worthless metal, but always it possesses one characteristic – a blade so sharp it can, in a standard swordfighting novel phrase, “rip through iron as if it were mud, and split a hair in two.”

Most boys, of course, eventually outgrow their swordfighting fantasies. They know they will never be able to fly across the rooftops or save the world from injustice. But there is one element of the fantasy that remains a part of real life-the swords.

Chinese swords have a long history, dating back to the Western Chou dynasty (1122-770 B.C.), and they continue to hold a unique place in Chinese culture today. Swords can still be found in swordfighting novels and their TV equivalents, in Chinese opera and ancient paintings, in temples where they are ceremoniously lined up for the use of the gods, and even in parks, where enthusiasts often practice a type of fencing tai chi.

Despite their presence in everyday life, there is relatively little information about the history of swords in China. And few efforts have been made to preserve or exhibit old Chinese swords. Nor are they very well represented in private collections.

Richard Shen (申威), co-owner of the Silport Antique Co. in Taipei, finds that many collectors are more familiar with Japanese swords, largely because the Japanese have treated swords and swordmaking skills as important cultural assets. The Tokyo National Museum, for example, devotes considerable space to swords and other ancient weapons. “Most collectors don't know that [old] Chinese swords are of higher quality than Japanese swords,” Shen says. “But why should they? There isn't any information on them and not many surviving examples.”

Shen and Silport manager Ching Li (李清兒) are taking steps to change this. They recently brought together several collections in Taipei, including their own, to present an exhibition of rare Chinese swords from the Sung (960-1279) to the Ching (1644-1911) dynasties. Although last November's display was relatively small – only about twenty weapons – it was large by collectors' standards. “You'll probably never have another chance to see such a big collection in one room,” says Ching Li, “not even at the [Taipei] National Palace Museum.”

Shen feels that the exhibition was a first step in helping more collectors get acquainted with one another. Most of them, it turns out, are in professions somehow related to swords or knives. Many are doctors or military generals. But for all of them, it is difficult to gather knowledge about their swords. “By exchanging information,” Shen says, “maybe we can find out more about these beautiful, rare items.”

The size of the exhibition reflects the small number of antique Chinese swords that are still in existence. The reasons are historical. Many of the emperors of old China, in order to reduce the risk of rebellion, did not allow civilians to make or own weapons, thus greatly limiting their production. Many of the weapons that were made were later taken as souvenirs by American, European, and Japanese troops when they left China in the 1900s. Most of those left behind were melted down during the late 1950s, when Mao Zedong's Great Leap Forward initiated a campaign to produce steel in “backyard” smelters. Most of the weapons collected today are either bought at foreign auctions or excavated from old tombs in Mainland China.

Shen feels that Chinese swords have not only suffered from the onslaughts of history, they have also been ignored by scholars. Some research has been done on the earliest examples of Chinese swords, made of bronze during the Western Chou dynasty, but little on iron and steel swords, which first appeared in the Spring and Autumn Period (770-476 B.C.). For steel swords, researchers, like collectors, more often turn to Japan. But Shen insists that Chinese steel swords are of excellent quality and have historical value as well.

Some examples in the Silport collection from the Sung and Ming dynasties, Shen says, have steel blades that are as advanced as any made with modem technology. In particular, the Ming swords are made of steel with a hardness of up to HRC 58 to 60 (the higher the HRC number, the harder the steel). Antique Japanese swords, Shen explains, have an HRC of only 40 to 50. By comparison, modern-day kitchen cleavers and Swiss Army knives use steel of 30 to 40 HRC. Even combat or hunting knives made with the best modern steel usually have an HRC just over 60.

Chinese swords are also valuable because of the natural wave patterns that are found only on steel of very high quality. This type of steel, known as Damascus steel, looks as if it has been coated with a thin layer of oil. Because many old Chinese swords were made of such high-quality steel, they have retained their original luster and sharpness over several centuries. “There is al most no rust on them,” Ching Li says. “Some of them are sharp enough that they can actually shave the edge of a coin.”

The skill of making such steel, along with most of the best swords, was lost long ago. What is known is that sword and knife makers in old China spent most of their lifetime beside a furnace. Starting early in the morning, they would repeat the same process over and over, first heating up a piece of iron until it was red hot, then hammering it to a certain length, folding it in half, dousing it in cold water, heating it to red hot again, hammering, folding, and so on. In this way, the impurities of the metal were removed little by little. To reach an ideal level of quality, the heating and folding process might be repeated hundreds of times. The steel for one pair of swords in the Silport collection, which were dug up from a Ming dynasty tomb, was folded nine hundred times.

In addition, the exact temperature of the furnace, the skill of the hammerer, and many other factors determined the quality of the finished product. While modern equipment and tools can control many of these factors precisely, it is still difficult to make steel as good as that of these early swordmakers. “It's a fact,” Richard Shen says, “but I have no explanation.”

While professional collectors may appreciate the quality of the metal, amateurs are perhaps more interested in the decorations of these centuries-old weapons. The details on the scabbard and handle, and sometimes on the body of the sword, were generally crafted of bronze, silver, gold, or jade. One especially fine example, which was shown in the Silport exhibition, has a depiction of “One Hundred Children Playing in the Spring.” The steel for the blade was made in the Ming dynasty and the other parts in the Ching dynasty. As the name suggests, the decoration is composed of one hundred children crafted on the bronze parts of the scabbard and handle, each with different gestures and facial expression. The head of each figure is crafted in silver, then inlaid into the bronze.

Impressive inlay skills were sometimes used on the surface of the blade as well. Several surviving examples have a design with seven bronze stars, which Shen says were the stars governing death. These were inlaid so carefully that they appear to have been forged with the sword rather than added later.

Fancier swords, Shen says. were seldom used in combat. They were carried instead by high-ranking government officials as symbols of wealth or position. “Jewels and fancy decorations wouldn't help much in the battlefield,” he says, “where the only purpose for a weapon is to kill.” Swords that were actually used in bailie. while less impressive in design, are often more valuable from a historical point of view. One pair of Ming dynasty weapons has only a simple pattern on the bronze part of the scabbard, but it is significant because the handle designs include two characters, Tung Chang (東廠), that refer to a secret police force set up by imperial eunuchs. Shen believes the weapons were actually used because of several small indentations on the cutting edge of the blades.

Another example is a Ming dynasty sword that, in addition to its fancy decorations. is valued because it was carried by the special government envoy Cheng Ho (鄭和) on a court mission to Southeast Asia. Cheng Ho, who was given the title Grand Eunuch, was one of China's most famous diplomats. His numerous voyages took him as far as Arabia and Africa. This particular sword includes a handle that can be removed and used as a name chop, proof of the carrier's high position.

The shape of a weapon can also tell something of its history. For example, different military troops, even in the same dynasty, sometimes used distinct types of swords or knives. During the Ming dynasty, the weapons used by the Tung Chang agents were short and light, more suitable for alley fighting. Those used by the troops of General Chi Chi-Kuang (戚繼光), famous for repelling Japanese pirates, were longer, heavier, and had longer handles. This allowed warriors to swing the weapon with both hands, much like a Japanese sword was used.

Collectors who are not familiar with Chinese history, Shen says, often cannot appreciate weapons for their historical value. For this reason he was able to get a bargain on his pair of Tung Chang weapons, which he bought from a foreign collector. “He sold at a low price because, to him, they were only a pair of knives made in China several hundred years ago,” Shen explains. “If he had known the historical value of a weapon used by the Tung Chang agents, he would probably never have sold them.”

Whereas the weapons made for soldiers or guards were generally produced in quantity, others were tailor-made for individual owners. Often you can get an idea of what the person was like just by looking at his sword. It would be designed according to the user's height, strength, right or left handedness, and even his personality. There was always one basic principle on deciding the length, however. It had to correspond to a number considered lucky on the Chinese ruler.

These customers-made swords were carried not only by high-ranking military officials, but also by scholars as a sign of good breeding. Even Confucius wore a sword. Scholars' swords were often thinner and shorter than those used in battle, and the decoration was simple but elegant.

Swords were valued by scholars because of their symbolic function. The shape, for one thing, is similar to the character chung (中), which refers to China. The straight line of a sword, as well as its use in straightforward motions, also symbolize uprightness and justice. For these reasons, Chinese swords are usually stored vertically, whereas other weapons may be stored horizontally. “Justice must stand,” Ching Li says. “Therefore swords, the symbol of justice, cannot be laid down either.”

Many collectors also consider swords to have talismanic powers, Shen says. They keep them not only for their beauty and historical value, but also because they are believed to ward off evil and to protect one's family. Perhaps this is one reason it is so difficult to find anyone willing to sell a Chinese sword. “It depends mostly on fate,” Shen says. “Some people aren't able to find one for sale even after decades of searching.” One local collector recalls it took him a year to persuade another collector to sell a set of Chinese weapons. “It's not a question of money,” he says. “Collectors never sell unless they feel the buyer has the same passion and respect.”