[The story of] T‘ien Tan of the Ch‘i State, who in 279 B.C. was hard-pressed in his defence of Chi-mo against the Yen forces, led by Ch‘i Chieh. In chapter 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 request 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 request; 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 5,000 hand-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 5,000 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.
Source:
Giles, Lionel: Sun Tzu: The Art of War. (1910) p. 90, footnote 2 (read online)
1000 oxen were living within the city walls? That's a lot of animals.