Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall

Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall

The Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall is a cultural tourism attraction.

An ancestral hall is a temple where clan members worship their ancestors or individuals who were virtuous in life. There are 170 surnames in Guidong, but none of them is “Mu” (母). Yet, incredibly, there is a Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall. Even more puzzling is that it is located inside the Guidong Revolutionary Activities Memorial of the Chinese Workers’ and Peasants’ Red Army, leaving behind an unsolved mystery.

The Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall faces east and covers a construction area of 250.8 square meters. It is lower in the front and higher in the back, with two connected sections, forming a three-courtyard, four-wing, quadrangle layout. The front part is the entrance hall, and the rear is the main hall, with a 24-square-meter courtyard between them. The floor plan is square with ten pillars, spanning 15.2 meters in width and 16.5 meters in depth. It features a post-and-lintel wooden structure with a combination of raised beams and piercing dougong. It is a Qing Dynasty building.

Generally speaking, ancestral halls are quite elaborate, with grand architectural styles, upturned eaves, carved beams, and painted rafters. Inside the buildings, there are exquisite stone carvings, wood carvings, and beautiful paintings; couplets with well-matched phrases and profound meanings; calligraphy that is either powerful or elegant; solemn and sacred spirit tablets... However, when we enter the Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall in Guidong, none of these are present. At first glance, it looks no different from the ordinary gray-tiled rural houses we usually see, with no real cultural or artistic significance. The only difference is that it has a bit more of a weathered and tranquil feel.

You might ask, when was this Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall built? Who was Mother-Gong? And what mysterious stories does the Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall hold?

To unravel this mystery and clarify its origins, historians in Guidong County conducted in-depth research. They consulted relevant sections of the Qing Dynasty’s “Comprehensive Gazetteer” and the “Guidong County Annals” from the Tongzhi era, such as chapters on notable officials, sacrificial rites, worship ceremonies, military defense, household registration, literary poetry, and old prefaces. They also interviewed elderly residents in the county.

The story dates back to the late Ming Dynasty and the peasant uprising led by Zhang Xianzhong.

In the 16th year of the Chongzhen era (1643), the peasant rebel army led by Zhang Xianzhong captured cities and territories, taking over Chenzhou and Hengyang in one fell swoop. One day, Zhang Xianzhong assigned a general named Jiang Weixin to lead troops in besieging the remote Guidong County.

At that time, Guidong was surrounded by mountains, with no access by boat or vehicle. The rebel army had no choice but to ride horses, wave banners, carry halberds, wield swords, and tote bows and arrows as they advanced into the dense forests of Guidong. Along the way, they burned, killed, and looted, quickly arriving in Guidong.

Wealthy merchants in Guidong heard the news and hurriedly moved away to escape. Many local citizens joined the refugee flow. Soldiers stationed at Yangmei Fort and Lianzhu Fort tried to persuade Magistrate Mu Chongzheng to abandon the city and flee.

Magistrate Mu replied, “I was sent by the imperial court to guard the borders and protect the land. How could I care only for my own safety and flee, disregarding the safety of the people? The city stands, and I stand; the city falls, and I fall. My body may be damaged, my head may be severed, but my will and integrity cannot be taken. If necessary, I will die to repay the world.”

Magistrate Mu’s words gave courage and support to the panicked people of Guidong. He walked to the city wall and, facing the rebel army surrounding the city, said righteously, “I am the magistrate of Guidong County. The common people have not offended you. Do not slaughter innocents. If you must kill or chop, come for me!”

Because the forces under Jiang Weixin were mixed, some rebels went on a killing spree, bombarding the city wall and directing arrows, swords, and halberds indiscriminately at civilians. When Magistrate Mu’s appeals failed, he could only lead the soldiers and citizens in a desperate resistance. But due to the overwhelming disparity in strength, Guidong County was eventually breached by the rebel army. Magistrate Mu was captured, the city was looted, and then set ablaze. The Ou River, flowing southward, ran red with blood, and the riverbanks were filled with wailing. Corpses lay everywhere—some with wide, furious eyes, others gnawing on blood-soaked teeth. Guidong became “a desolate expanse of a hundred li, devoid of any inhabitants.”

Historical records show: Mu Chongzheng, from Sichuan, was a selected tribute student and served as the magistrate of Guidong County in the late Ming Dynasty. After being captured, he chose death over submission and continuously cursed the rebel leader. In December of the 16th year of the Chongzhen era (1643), Magistrate Mu was captured by the rebels and taken to Ganzhou, Jiangxi, where he eventually died a martyr’s death.

After Jiang Weixin’s forces retreated toward Jiangxi, the common people of Guidong who had escaped the danger and fled elsewhere gradually returned to their hometowns. They deeply missed Magistrate Mu, who loved the people like his own children, and wept bitterly.

The following year, during the season when azaleas bloomed, the people of Guidong built a Mother-Gong Pavilion in the county seat (now at the head of Xiahuangqiao Bridge), beneath which they erected a cenotaph for Magistrate Mu Chongzheng. This pavilion and cenotaph were destroyed in the 1960s during the “Smash the Four Olds” campaign when farmers from Jingwukou leveled the land to create fields. They no longer exist today.

Luo Wanjuan, a tribute student from Guidong in the Qing Dynasty, wrote a sorrowful poem in memory of Magistrate Mu: *“On Mount Emei’s peak lies eternal snow, A great man born with noble spirit so. As magistrate by Ou River’s side he stayed, In times of strife, a sorrow deep conveyed. When rebel hordes pressed close and skies turned dim, Everywhere surrendered flags began to swim. Alone he held the city, bold and true, ‘The city falls, and I fall too,’ he’d renew. He shouted to slay the foe, their souls dismayed, But few could fight, and hope began to fade. In the 16th year of Chongzhen, the year of Guiwei, The city fell, yet he died without retreat. Back then, even the Sichuan capital did break, With rebels claiming thrones, like beasts awake. Outside Jinzhou’s walls, cuckoos cried in vain, A loyal soul refused to return again. Two or three old men, their hair like snow, Witnessed the bloodstains on his neck below. They tried to speak, but tears came first, Still cursing foes, their voices immersed. Humble homes scattered, fields lay bare, Under Phoenix Mountain, earth stained red with care. No horsehide shroud was found to wrap his form, Now every night, sad winds are born. Alas, he loved the people as his own, Died with the city, his honor well-known. His righteousness soared, though not yet told, His words, a legacy to behold.”*

Time flowed like water, and before long, it was the 17th year of the Jiaqing era (1817). Zeng Yu, a successful candidate in the imperial examinations from Fujian Province, came to Guidong to serve as magistrate. One day, Magistrate Zeng visited the banks of the Ou River. After inspecting the Mother-Gong Pavilion and hearing the accounts from the people of Guidong about Magistrate Mu Chongzheng’s loyalty to the nation, dedication to the people, and service to countless commoners, he was deeply moved. So, he built the Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall on the left side behind the government office in the western part of the city—the very same Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall we see today in the memorial. At the time of construction, local gentry such as Huang Yuchang provided strong support, donating money to purchase the land and old house of the Luo family.

After its completion, the Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall became a place for the people of Guidong to commemorate the noble integrity of Magistrate Mu Chongzheng.

Elderly residents of Guidong still recall that during the Republican era, after the Nationalist government organized ceremonies to worship Confucius at the Confucius Temple, they would also pay respects at the Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall to honor the upright and incorruptible Magistrate Mu. Twice a year, during the second spring and second autumn months, they would hold rituals, offering incense, placing ritual vessels with sacrifices such as pork, beef, and mutton, reading sacrificial texts, and performing the ceremony of two kneels and six kowtows.

“Unwilling to spare even his own life as the city falls, his unyielding integrity leaves a fragrant legacy through the ages.” Although Magistrate Mu Chongzheng was just a county magistrate in a feudal society, because he “lived for the people and their society, and died without forgetting his loyalty,” he has been remembered and honored by the people of Guidong.

Some visitors might say, wasn’t everything related to the “feudal” system—such as memorial archways, temples, ancestral halls, and ancient houses—completely destroyed during the campaign to “Smash the Four Olds”? How did the Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall in Guidong manage to escape that fate?

The reason is actually quite simple. In August 1928, when Mao Zedong led the Chinese Workers’ and Peasants’ Red Army to Guidong to welcome back the forces of Zhu De and Chen Yi, Mao stayed in the Tang family’s residence next to the Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall, and meetings were also held there. At the time, the rooms of the Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall housed Mao’s guards. Additionally, from the end of 1966 to 1967, Guidong built the Exhibition Hall of Comrade Mao Zedong’s Revolutionary Activities in Guidong (later renamed the Revolutionary Activities Memorial of the Chinese Workers’ and Peasants’ Red Army), so the Mother-Gong Ancestral Hall was not only preserved but also incorporated into the memorial as a red tourism site.

Author: Chen Junwen