{163} Notes on a Journey

By Zhang Dehui of the Great Mongol Empire

Zhang Dehui (1194–1274, courtesy name Yaoqing) was born a subject of the Jin dynasty in Jiaocheng County, southwest of Taiyuanfu, in the Hedong region (modern Shanxi). He was a studious youth and when his family was devastated by the wars in the Zhenyou years (1213–1216), his brothers secured an entry-level position for him at the new Jin capital as a clerk in the censorate (assigned to review official actions and ferret out corruption and incompetence). The Jin court had moved its capital south to Kaifengfu in Henan. He and several other men from the Hedong, Zhendingfu, and Yunzhong regions, who earned degrees or entered the bureaucracy at that time—Lei Yuan, Li Ye, Yuan Haowen, and Bai Hua—formed a group of able young Confucians. Early on, Zhang Dehui won fame for reopening a robbery case, acquitting a Buddhist monk who had falsely confessed to the robbery because he feared torture, and then arresting the real culprit.

After the final destruction of the Jin, he went north to Hebei and served as a registrar in the Zhendingfu prefectural office of Shǐ Tianze, one of the leading Chinese commanders on the Mongol side. In 1247, and again in 1252 (this time with Yuan Haowen), he was summoned north by Qubilai, then a prince, to discuss the Confucian way of rule. After Qubilai was enthroned as Great Khan in 1260, Zhang Dehui served as the Hedong Circuit pacification commissioner, where he earned both a wide reputation and significant hostility as an independent-minded defender of the common farmers’ interests.

In 1266 he was made an adviser to the Secretariat (the main policy-making body), and in 1268 he was nominated as one of two attendant censors, one of the highest offices in the censorate, but declined the nomination. When asked to draw up regulations for the censorate, he again demurred, saying that in the absence of an officially promulgated legal code it would be impossible to draw up rules. When the emperor pressed him, he refused again on grounds of age. In the end, the emperor asked only that he nominate suitable persons, which he did. The following is Zhang Dehui’s record of his first meeting with Qubilai.

Notes on a Journey

1. On dīng/wèi, VI, 1 [July 4, 1247], we proceeded north in response to the summons, setting out from Zhenyang.1 The envoys stayed the night when passing through Zhongshanfu, during which time it was densely cloudy without raining. There was a moment when the sky began to clear, and one could see in the west {164} the lofty summit of Hengshan Mountain (Note: This is the so-called sacred peak)2 rising up like a green canopy. Then, one after another, the surrounding peaks could be counted, so I turned my head and addressed my traveling companions, saying, “In this journey of ours, will we not have a speedy return? This is the felicitous omen of Tuizhi’s Hengshan.”3

2. The next day we left Baosai,4 crossing the bridge over the Xuhe River. To the west, Langshan Mountain could be seen, its forests like swords and halberds in luxuriant green.5 Then, as we went from Liangmen Gate and Dingxing to reach Zhuojun Commandery,6 in the east the Lousang Temple of the Former Lord of Shu7 could {165} be seen; by passing through Liangxiang and crossing Lugou Bridge,8 we arrived at Yanjing.

Setting off again after a ten-day stay there, going north we passed Shuangtabao Fort and Xindian Courier Station,9 entered Nankou Gap, and crossed Juyong Pass. We exited that pass by the Beikou Gap, and then went west through Yulin Courier Station, Leijiadian Inn, reaching Huailai County. East of the county seat was a bridge, in the middle of which were horizontal wood planks, with stonework both above and below. West of the bridge was a settlement where people lived, but the county seat’s outer wall was crumbling and neglected.10 Going westward we passed along the southern side of Mount Jiming; there was a lodging house called Pingyu, and on its summit a dwelling for monks had been built.11 Holding to the west side of the mountain, we went northward and then followed the Sanggan River upstream. The river had a stone bridge, which we took westward onto the road for Dexingfu Prefecture. Heading northward, we passed an inn called Dingfang, crossed the river at Shitizi,12 and reached Xuandezhou Prefecture. Traveling again to the northwest, we passed Shalingzi Gap and Xuanping County Courier Station; setting out through Desheng Gap, we arrived at Ehu Ridge.13

3. Below, there was a courier station named Boro. From this place northward, the courier stations were all divided up under the lordships of various Mongol tribes and clans; each station was named after the one ruling it. Going upward over Ehu Ridge and traveling northeastward, we first saw fleece-bordered felt-carts,14 the occupants of which were simply following the water and grass to herd their livestock. We were no longer in the local conditions15 of the Central Plains.

{166} Soon after, we passed through Fuzhou, where only deserted city walls were left. Heading north, we entered Changzhou Prefecture, where the residents were barely a hundred families. In the middle of it was a government building erected by the Prince of State;16 there also was a granary under the control of the prefecture’s salt office. East of the prefecture was a salt lake at least thirty-five miles17 around, which the local people called Dog Lake because of its similar shape.18 Going more than a hundred lǐ north of the prefecture, we found an ancient rampart, almost hidden now, connected all the way to a mountain ravine. South of the rampart was a small, abandoned walled town. When we asked those who lived there, they said that it was a guard post built by the previous dynasty. The settlement is inhabited by the guards stationed there.

From the guard post we went through four courier stations before entering the sand hills.19 In the whole extent of the hills, there were no rocks or an inch of soil. From afar there seemed to be ridges or mounds, but upon approach, it was all deep sand. As for trees, it was suitable only for elms and willows; moreover, they all grew in forlorn clusters. Its water was all brackish and alkaline. We passed through six courier stations in all before exiting the hills.

4. Again turning northwest for one station, we passed Fish Lake.20 This is actually two lakes, more than thirty-five miles around, but with a land road in the middle running between the northern and southern shores. On the eastern waterfront was the summer palace of a princess, around which was a wall almost one rod21 high and about seven-tenths of mile square.22 In the middle was built a sleeping chamber wedged between two halls, with a turtle-shaped promenade23 behind it, and two corridors ranged beside that. In front, a lookout tower stood like a {167} mountain; climbing it quite enhanced one’s vision. To the east of the palace were the residences of commoners and craftsmen, gathered together somewhat to make a village. Among those was a building with a placard that read, “Welcoming the Sunshine.” Traveling northwest from the lake for four courier stations, we encountered the crumbling ruins of a great wall that could be seen to stretch infinitely. This, too, was built by the previous dynasty as their outermost fortification.

5. Traveling fifteen courier stations on from this outer fortification, we reached a river, which in depth and width was about one third of the Hutuo River.24 In the northern tongue they call it Hiluren; in Chinese it is called the Lüju River.25 Close by the banks are many willow stands, and the river flowing eastward is very swift and turbulent. The residents said that the fish in it can grow as long as three or four feet.26 If one tries to catch them in spring, summer, or autumn, one will never succeed, but when winter comes, then by boring through the ice they can be caught. The people living by the water’s edge were a mixture of ethnics27 and Han, some of whom had houses, all plastered with earth. In addition, quite a few knew the arts of cultivation, but only for hemp and wheat. North of the river there is a big mountain called Kurawu,28 or in Chinese, “Black Mountain.” Seen from one of the homes it appeared dark, as though it had a flourishing forest, but given a closer look it was all dark green mossy rocks, probably so because the predominantly cloudy and misty weather covers them with it.29

6. We traveled southwest from the southern slopes of the Black Mountain, through nine courier stations, until we again approached a river, about one third as deep {168} and broad as the Hiluren. The fish are as large as those in the Hiluren and the method of catching them is similar. Where its current first flows west, it is too deep and rushing to ford. In the northern tongue it is called Hun-Tula; in Chinese it is called Tur.30

Following that river westward and traveling one station, there is an ancient town built by the Kitans; it is a mile square,31 backing onto a mountain and facing the river.32 From this point on, the river flows northward. Going northwest from the ancient town for three courier stations, we passed Bitehetu,33 which is a colony of bowyers.34 Traveling through another station, we passed a great lake, which is twenty to twenty-five miles around35 and whose water is extremely clear and still; it is called in the northern tongue Ugei-Naur.36 Going south from the lake, turning {169} westward are separate roads, diverging by thirty-five miles37 or more, that lead into Qorum38 city. Directly west of the lake there is a small ancient town which also was built by the Kitans.39 Seen in all four directions around the town, the land is very open and flat for almost forty miles,40 but beyond that are mountains. On the shady, northern side of the mountains, there are pine forests,41 while along the waterfront there are only poplars and clustered willows. In the middle [of the mountains] is Qorum Steppe.42 The residents mostly tend fields for which they all draw water [from the Orqan River] for irrigation, and some of them also have vegetable gardens.43 At the time, it was the last part of the first moon of autumn [August 21–31], and the broomcorn millet and wheat had all withered. When the farmers were asked about it, they said there already had been three frosts!

7. Going northwest one courier station from that steppe, we passed Horse-Head Mountain, which the residents said was named for a large horse head on top of it.44 From the north side of Horse-Head Mountain, we turned and again went {170} southwestward, passing Hula’an-Chikin, a place where commoners and artisans who have been drafted into servitude practice farming and crafts. A river called the Tamir waters it.45

Taikhar Rock in Ikh Tamir Sumu (county), Northern Khangai Province, Mongolia.

Going northeast through another station, we passed a [naturally formed] stone beacon-tower. Standing beside the post road, it is a little more than three rods high and seventy yards around at the bottom.46 Exactly square with four corners, {171} it towers above the level ground with a wonderfully imposing appearance. Seen from afar, it looks like a great beacon-tower, and therefore it is named that.47 Traveling three courier stations southwestward from the beacon-tower, we passed a river called the Tangut, which is named because its source is in the Western Xia; its current too flows to the northeast.48 West of that river there is a high ridge, whose stones all seem to be iron. On the northern side of the ridge is pine forest, and on its southern side is a tent-palace,49 which is the summer residence.

We waited until after Mid-Autumn 50 before setting out to travel around. Going east along the courier-station route past the stone beacon-tower, we arrived northeast of Hula’an-Chikin and meandered by foot into a craggy mountain. From then on we sometimes traveled and sometimes stayed, traveling no farther than one stop at a time, and staying no longer than two nights. As we did not pass any famous mountains or great rivers, I have not recorded this exhaustively.

Here we follow Yao Congwu, who inserted into the text Zhang Dehui’s conversation with Qubilai drawn from the “Account of Conduct,” composed by Wang Yun after Zhang Dehui’s death:

8. Once I had met him, the prince calmly asked, “It has been long since Confucius died, so where is his essence now?”51 My reply was, “Sages52 are as eternal as {172} Heaven and Earth; they are omnipresent. If Your Highness can follow the Way of the Sages,53 you too will be a Sage, and Confucius’s essence will be present in this tent-palace.”

He also asked, “Some say ‘The Liao was ruined by Buddhism, and the Jin was destroyed by Confucianism.’ Is this so?” My reply was, “Your servant is not thoroughly familiar with Liao affairs, but he did personally experience the late Jin period. Although one or two Confucian ministers were employed among the state councilors,54 the other officials were all military men and hereditary office-­holders, and when they discussed important affairs of army and state, they did not allow the Confucians to know of it beforehand. Scholars who advanced to hold any office in court or province were but one out of thirty; they did nothing more than read record books, hear lawsuits, and manage finances. Responsibility for the survival or destruction of a state lies with those who are in charge of it; how then could it be the fault of the Confucians?” The prince was pleased. Following up, he asked me, “The laws and institutions of the ancestors55 all still exist, but so many of them have not been implemented; what is to be done about this?” I then pointed at a silver plate before His Highness, and used it as a figure, saying, “To be the ruler who starts a great enterprise, is like making this utensil; having achieved it by handpicking pure silver and the best craftsmen and plans, then, when delivered to later generations, it will be transmitted without end. Now, you should seek out prudent and honest men to take charge of the matter so that what is crafted can be used as a prized heirloom forever. Otherwise, not only might it be damaged, one also fears that someone might snatch it away!”56

After quite a while, the prince said, “This truly is something my heart will not forget!”

{173} He also inquired about talented men in China, and I thereupon recommended more than twenty men, including Wei Fan, Yuan Haowen, and Li Ye .57 The prince counted their number on his fingers, and he was able to say the family name and given name of several of them.

The prince asked again, “[Aside from officials,] the farmers also toil hard, so why is their clothing and food never adequate?” I replied, “Farming and silk-making are the foundation of the world, whence comes clothing and food. Men farm and women weave diligently despite hardship the whole year through, and then they choose their finest and most beautiful things to submit to officials, reserving the coarse and ugly stuff to provide for their elders and children. But government clerks who are closest to the people make additional, irregular exactions that exhaust their resources, so rarely are there common people who do not go cold and hungry!”

9. When the Double Ninth arrived,58 the prince led those under his banner to assemble at the great flag tent and sprinkle the milk of a white mare as a practice of seasonal offering. All the implements used were of birchwood; they do not use gold or silver to ornament their services, as part of their esteem of simplicity. Not until the middle of moon X [October 9–18] did they move to a mountain hollow59 to avoid the worst of winter. The forest there was very thick and the waters all frozen solid, so the people were keen to collect fuel and store water, preparing to protect themselves from the cold.

They insist on making their clothes out of fur or leather. For their food they take mutton as their staple and grains like rice as a delicacy. Every year on New Year’s Eve, they move their tents to different locations, which will be their place for exchanging visits on New Year’s Day. On that day [January 28, 1248], there was a great entertainment for his whole appanage (bù) in front of the tents, and {174} everyone from the prince on down wore pure white furs. After three days of this, they went to the great flag tent to extend congratulations as a ritual.60 On the last day of moon I [February 25], we again traveled southwestward. In the middle of moon II [March 6–15], we reached Hula’an-Chikin and then traveled east until we reached Horse-Head Mountain, where we camped. The reason was to take advantage of the spring thaw for falconry.

The second conversation from Wang Yun’s “Account of Conduct” of Zhang Dehui:

10. In the spring of wù/shēn [1248], a sacrifice was offered, and I presented its meat to the prince. The prince asked, “Why is there a ritual offering of food in the temples of Confucius?” I replied, “Confucius is the teacher of all true princes for ten-thousand generations. Heads of state honor him, and so they solemnize the temple services and practice seasonal offerings. Whether he is worshiped or not makes no difference to the Sage himself. It’s just that from this may be seen the veneration of the scholar’s way [i.e., Confucianism] in the current ruler’s heart.”

The prince said, “From now on, this ritual will not be abandoned.”

The prince further asked, “Who does the people greater injury today, those who control the soldiers or those who govern the people?” I replied, “As for those who control the soldiers, the army is without discipline; no matter how cruel and heartless they are, what they succeed in getting is not worth what is destroyed. Their crimes certainly are grave. Regarding those who supervise the people, they poison the civilized world with their relentless taxes and afflict the descendants of the ancestor’s61 subjects as if they were treading in water or fire. The harm they do is especially great.” The prince was silent for a long time before saying, “If so, then what can be done?” I said, “Best would be to choose anew a wise man of the clan, such as Kö’ün-Buqa, to handle the soldiers, and choose someone from the meritorious elders62 like Qutughu to rule the civil administration. Then the whole civilized world would benefit.”63

{175} 11. On IV, 9, [May 3, 1248], the prince again led those under his banner to assemble at the great flag tent and sprinkle the milk of white mares; the utensils were also the same as before. Every year, this sacrifice is repeated only on the Double Ninth and on IV, 9. On no other holiday is this done. From that day, we began our return, going southwest again on the post road toward the summer camp site. In general, when summer comes around, then they go to a high, cool site, and when winter arrives, then they hasten to a sunny, warm place where fuel and water are easily obtained, to avoid each season’s extremes. Passing that place, we continued on, traveling one day and staying the next, just following the water and grass for the sake of our animals. This is the appropriate thing to do under local conditions and generally summarizes their traditional customs.64

The final round of recommendations from Wang Yun’s “Account of Conduct” of Zhang Dehui:

12. In the summer of that year, I was able to inform the prince that I was returning, and once again I recommended several men to him: Bai Wenju, Zheng ­Xianzhi, Zhao Yuande, Li Jinzhi, Gao Ming, Li Pan, and Li Tao.65 Taking leave of the throne, I again spoke of venerating the virtues of the elders, appointing a few primary ministers, choosing men of talent, inspecting the situation among subordinates, {176} valuing consideration of both sides, drawing true gentlemen near, putting trust in rewards and punishments, and cutting down expenses levels—along these lines I admonished the prince. I was at the northern court for a full year, and whenever I had an audience, the prince inquired at length about the meaning of the Sage’s Way and its virtue,66 methods of self-cultivation and administering the state, and the sources of order and anarchy in ancient times and the present. Our discussions were clearly detailed and engagingly frank, and many were the things he began to comprehend. Thus, the prince called me by my name and allowed me to sit down in his presence; his magnanimous courtesy was truly great.

13. I, a humble servant, from when I first arrived until I returned home, roamed with the prince’s court for more than ten moons. Whenever there was a feast or an audience, the prince made a point of receiving me with due ceremony. Considering his provision of a tent, bedding, clothing, food and drink, and medicine, not one expression of cordiality was lacking. From this one may understand the sincerity of his affectionate concern. Assaying my own decrepitude and lack of talent, how did I deserve this? The source of the prince’s intention lay in his “loving goodness and forgetting his power,” that is, in giving position to our Confucius’s Way and restraining his own desires in order to attract the exemplary gentlemen of the civilized world. 67 How could I be worthy of this? Later there will certainly be other men worthier than Kui68 who will go to him. For that reason, I recorded my mission from beginning to end and now have written a full account of it. Respectfully signed: Zhang Dehui of Taiyuanfu, in the summer of wù/shēn, VI, 15 [July 7, 1248].

 

 

1. Zhenyang was an alternate name of Zhenzhou, the Tang-era name for Zhendingfu. We would like to thank Reader A for this information.

2. This is one of a small number of notes added into the text in smaller type; it is nowhere explicitly stated, but these appear to be annotations by Zhang Dehui’s younger contemporary Wang Yun, which he added when he entered this text into his anthology, “Praiseworthy Conversations from the Jade Hall.”

3. Tuizhi is the courtesy name (zì) of the Tang Confucian Han Yu (768–824), famous for his opposition to the imperial court’s patronage of Buddhism, an opposition that began the revival of Confucianism. Zhang Dehui alludes to Han Yu’s famous poem, “Stopping at a Temple on Hengshan Mountain, I Inscribed This Poem in the Gate Tower,” which begins:

The Five Holy Mountains have the rank of the Three Dukes;

The other four make a ring with the Song Mountain midmost.

To this one, in the fire-ruled south, where evil signs are rife,

Heaven gave divine power, ordaining it a peer.

All the clouds and hazes are hidden in its girdle,

And its forehead is beheld only by a few.

. . . I came here in autumn during the rainy season

When the sky was overcast and clear wind gone.

I quieted my mind and prayed for an answer,

For surely righteous thinking reaches to high heaven.

And soon all the mountain peaks were showing me their faces.

(Adapted from a translation by Bynner and Kiang 1972, 31)

Han Yu wrote this poem after visiting Hengshan Mountain in Hunan Province of southern China. The fact that Hengshan in Hunan and Hengshan in Hebei are homonyms undoubtedly added to the significance of the parallel for Zhang Dehui.

4. Zhang Dehui uses the older Song-era name for the seat of Baozhou Prefecture.

5. Ch. cōngcuì kěyì 葱翠可挹.

6. The Han dynasty (206 BC–AD 220) name of what in Zhang Dehui’s day was Zhuozhou Prefecture (modern Zhuoxian County).

7. “The Former Lord of Shu” is Liu Bei, who from AD 180 onward upheld the cause of the Han dynasty’s imperial Liu family, of which he was a very distant relative. The temple that Zhang Dehui saw was built in his birthplace. When rebellions shook the Han dynasty and the warlord Cao Cao reunified North China under his new Wèi regime, Liu Bei built a Han government in exile in Shu, that is, Sichuan. Liu Bei’s struggle, aided by his brilliant and loyal grand councilor, Zhuge Liang, became an exemplar of loyalty and resistance to evil ambition, particularly invoked by southerners against northerners. Yet other scholars, such as Sima Guang (1019–1086), considered that the Han was finished and that the Cao family’s Wèi dynasty was its legitimate successor. Liu Bei’s official temple name was Han Zhaoliedi (“Luminous and Majestic Emperor of the Han”), but his son, who eventually lost the kingdom, received the temple name “Latter Lord.” By using the title “Former Lord of the Shu” rather than his full temple name, Zhang implicitly affirms the view of Sima Guang that Liu Bei’s attempt to restore the Han was doomed.

8. This bridge still exists. It was described by Marco Polo and hence it is often called “Marco Polo Bridge” in Western sources. See Polo 2016, §105 (93).

9. “Courier Station” is the Chinese name for what under the Mongols were called jam, the famous Mongol post-road system. As the guest of a Mongol prince, Zhang Dehui would have had the right to use these stations free of charge.

10. One of the conditions of surrender to the Mongols was to tear down city walls that could impede rural-based Mongol cavalry from entering if the city should rebel again.

11. This is the Yongning Monastery built in 1023 under the Liao dynasty.

12. That is, “Stone Ladder.” The river here is the modern Yanghe, a tributary of the Sanggan River, just south of present-day Xuanhua. In fact, although Zhang Dehui says they crossed a stone bridge over the Sanggan, that bridge, too, was over the Yanghe River.

13. That is, “Barbarian-Quelling” Ridge. The usual name for this pass is Yehu or “Wild Fox” Ridge; see Li Xinchuan, n. 44, pp. 52–53; Peng Daya, ”Sketch,” n. 19, p. 96. Zhang Dehui’s Èhú 扼胡, “Barbarian-Quelling,” would have been pronounced virtually identically to Yěhú 野狐, “Wild Fox,” in medieval Chinese. Zhang Dehui appears confused about the location of Desheng Gap; other sources place it to the east of Juyong Pass.

14. Ch. cùifú zhānchē 毳幅氈車. “Felt carts,” or zhānchē, refers to the yurts described by Xu Ting as the “steppe style” (“Sketch,” p. 99) and placed permanently on carts. The idea of a bordering with fleece (cùifú), however, is unique to Zhang’s description.

15. Ch. fēngtǔ 風土. This refers to both the social and environmental conditions, seen as a unit. See the discussion of fēngsú, “traditional customs,” in the Introduction, p. 22.

16. “Prince of State” (Guówáng 國王) was the title of Muqali and his descendants who served as viceroys in North China when Chinggis Khan left for the invasion of Central Asia; see Zhao Gong’s “Memorandum,” p. 78.

17. Lit., 100 lǐ; see the tables of weights and measures in Appendix §2.7 (p. 192).

18. “Dog Lake” is Chinese Gǒupō 狗泊. This lake, present-day Jiuliancheng Lake (Urtu Nuur in modern Mongolian), was one of the seven major salt production areas of the Jin dynasty (JS 24.567, 49.1094–95). The shape is very long and narrow.

19. Ch. shātuó 沙陀. This term designates what Chinese geographers today call “sandy lands” and what in North America are called sandhills. They differ from the shifting dunes of true deserts in being fixed and having, as Zhang notes, quite a bit of vegetation. The medieval Chinese name for this terrain was applied to the Shatuo, ancestors in part to the “White Tatars” much discussed by Li Xinchuan and Zhao Gong. The sandy lands Zhang passed through are called the Hunshandak in Chinese, a name of unclear origin. On the origins and ecology of this and other Inner Mongolian sandy lands, see Yang et al. 2015; Zhang and Gillis 2002.

20. Ch. Yúrpō 魚兒泊. As identified by Shiraishi (2012), this is the Khür-Chaghan Lake of Abagha Banner, Inner Mongolia. Khür-Chaghan is a double lake divided by a sandbar or spit of land, visible except when the water level is at its highest.

21. Lit., more than one zhàng high. See the tables of weights and measures in Appendix §2.7 (p. 192).

22. Lit., about two lǐ square. See Appendix §2.7 (p. 192).

23. Ch. gūixuān 龜軒, lit., “turtle balustrade.” This term designates a short promenade with a high walkway in the middle and two low walkways in front and behind.

24. The Hutuo River rises in the sacred Buddhist mountain of Wutai and flows west through the Taihang Mountains, past Zhendingfu (Zhang Dehui’s Zhenyang) and across the North China plain, merging with the Sanggan shortly before emptying into the Bohai Gulf. Since Zhang Dehui was living in Zhendingfu, he took it as a familiar measure of width.

25. This is the present-day Kherlen River in present-day Mongolia (“Outer Mongolia”). Zhang’s version of it as “Hiluren,” with the spirant h and not the harder k of Middle Mongolian Kelüren, may represent the Jurchen pronunciation. For unclear reasons, imperial Chinese writers historically referred to this river as Lüju or Lugou (the two were pronounced very similarly in the thirteenth century), a word that was a homonym of the “Marco Polo Bridge’s” Lugou River south of Beijing. See for example, “Sketch,” p. 130.

26. This fish is the taimen or Siberian salmon (Hucho taimen), known as the tul in Mongolian.

27. “Ethnics” here translates fān, and the term is quite as vague in Chinese as it is English. But it probably refers not to Mongols but to Uyghurs, Turkestanis, and other people from the West; see Peng Daya and Xu Ting’s “Sketch,” p. 115.

28. We follow Yao Congwu in emending the sù of the text’s Kūsùwú 窟速吾 to là 剌. Unlike Yao and Erdemtü, however, we see this as a version not of Mo. Qara A’ula, “Black Mountain,” but of Qara’u(n), “dark, shadowy,” a term that appears frequently in Middle Mongolian toponymy. Since Zhang Dehui shows familiarity with Jurchen, he may have misheard Qara’u as Kurawu due to confusion with huru~kuru, “rise, high place,” attested in Jurchen and Manchu.

29. This is the present-day Kherlen Toono Uul massif. With its highest peak at 1,578 meters above sea level, it is by several hundred meters the highest point on the northern banks of the Kherlen River and is currently a nature preserve in Mongolia. To its west is the Awraga site, which was the site of Chinggis Khan’s great base camp (a’uruq); see Shiraishi 2013.

30. That is, “Rabbit.” As Jagchid Sechin recognized, Hun-Tula should be Mongolian Gün Tu’ula, or the “deep Tu’ula,” the change from g to h perhaps attributable to the influence of Jurchen pronunciation. The Chinese Tùr or “Rabbit” is an unusual combination of both phonetic and semantic elements. Middle Mongolian for rabbit is taulai, modern tuulai, which to Chinese ears would sound close to both Tu’ula and the Chinese for “rabbit” (tùr or tùzi). The -r added to the Chinese can be either a colloquial dialect ending or else a rendering of the -l- in Tu’ula and taulai.

31. Lit., three lǐ square. See the tables of weights and measures in Appendix §2.7 (p. 192).

32. These ruins are known today as Khermen Denj, one of several Kitan garrison towns in the area. Khermen Denj is just north of the Tuul River. Its roughly rectangular wall is 1.9 kilometers or about 3 1/3 lǐ around. There is no mountain directly north of it, but there is a long spur of the Khentii to the east of it, and an isolated massif called Tömstei Mountain to the northwest of it. Probably the latter is meant. South of the Tuul is a much smaller ruins called Tsgaan Denj (“White Platform”), about 700 meters square, also dating from the Kitan period. See “Khermen Denj”; Ochir, Enkhtör, and Erdenebold 2005, 140–63; Kradin et al. 2012; Kradin and Ivliev 2014, 68, fig. 1, no. 37.

33. The Bìlǐhédū 畢里紇都 of the texts would read something like Mongolian Biliktu, “Wise One”; although common as a personal name, this term is unknown as a place name, here or anywhere else. If lǐ is emended to tè 忒, however, then the name may be matched with the Bìtèqiètū 必忒怯禿, also found in YS 31.698 in an itinerary passing exactly through this region, and which as Bitehetu “Having an Inscription,” is a plausible Turco-Mongolian toponym. We have thus emended the text.

34. If Zhang Dehui’s indications of distance are correct, and if the road from Khermen Denj to Ögii Nuur was roughly straight, as is the modern road, then this settlement of Bitehetu would be in present-day Gurwanbulag Sum (county), Bulgan Province. But no Mongol-era site there has been identified, and the distance between Khermen Denj and Ögii Nuur (about 150 kilometers) seems too short for four courier stations in sparsely settled Mongolia. It is likely that the post road was not as direct as the modern road.

35. Lit., sixty to seventy lǐ around; see the tables of weights and measures in Appendix §2.7 (p. 192).

36. This is present-day Ögii Nuur (Middle Mongolian Ögei Na’ur) in Mongolia’s Northern Khangai (Arkhangai) Province. Today it is about twenty-two kilometers or about forty lǐ around and is indeed by far the largest lake in the area. But if Zhang Dehui’s figure is accurate, it would mean that it was even larger then and that the marshy grounds and salt flats to the west of the current lakeshore were underwater during his time. The text here reads Wúwùjié-Nǎor, 吾悞竭·腦兒, which would imply a Mongolian of Uwugei-Naur. However, the reduplication of two graphs reading virtually the same, wú and wù, is very likely the result of a scribe checking his base text against a second text and noting the variant form in the margin of the draft. The marginal note was then mistakenly incorporated into the main text producing a doublet. This is a common occurrence; we thus read the name with only the second, less expected, graph.

37. Lit., a hundred lǐ; see the tables of weights and measures in Appendix §2.7 (p. 192).

38. This is Qara-Qorum (also written Karakorum), the famous capital of the Mongol Empire.

39. Previous commentators have speculated that this small Kitan town might be the Khöshöö Tsaidam site, where the famous Old Turkic inscription of Bilge Qaghan (r. 717–734) was found, or the famous ruins of Ordu-Baliq, capital of the Uyghur Empire (742–847). But the latter is far from “small” and both are quite a distance south, not “directly west,” of Ögii Nuur. The ruins here must be those of Chilen Owoo, six kilometers to the west of Ögii Nuur, and which excavations have shown to be of Kitan origin (Ochir, Enkhtör, and Erdenebold 2005, 163–72; Matsuda 2013, map 1).

40. Lit., a hundred lǐ; see the tables of weights and measures in Appendix §2.7 (p. 192).

41. “Shady, northern side” is Ch. yīn, of the famous pair yīn-yáng. This pair originally designated the shady northern side of a mountain and the sunny, southern side of the mountain, respectively. In Mongolia, this contrast is particularly clear as the shade on the northern side keeps moisture and allows trees to grow, while the southern, sunny side is dry and grassy.

42. Ch. chuān 川 would normally mean “stream” or “valley” in Chinese. In Chinese of the Mongol Yuan period, however, it was treated as the equivalent of Mongolian ke’ere, “steppe,” and from the context this is how it is being understood here. Yao Congwu followed an inaccurate note in the Yuanshi (YS 58.1382) and claimed that Zhang is referring here to the so-called Qara-Qorum River after which the Mongol capital of Qara-Qorum was supposedly named. In reality, however, the main river through this plain is the Orqan (Orkhon) River and qorum is a Turkic word meaning “stony ground, boulders.” The city and steppe were named after the boulders, not after the mythical “Qara-Qorum River.” See Juvaini 1958, vol. 1, 236; Rashiduddin 1998/1999, vol. 1, 75.

43. This area of Qara-Qorum has been a major center of agriculture in Mongolia up to the present.

44. Skulls of beloved horses are frequently placed on mountaintop cairns (owoo) in Mongolia today. This is presumably a reference to the same custom. This mountain may be the Bor Azarga (“Brown Stallion”) peak (1,899 meters above sea level) or the Ukhaa Azarga (“Light-Red Stallion”) peak (2,011 meters above sea level), both north of the Tamir River in Northern Khangai province. Matsuda (2013, 1, 7) also places “Horse-Head Mountain” in this area.

45. This is the present-day Khoid Tamir or “Rear Tamir” River. Matsuda (2013, 7, fig. 2) has identified this Hula’an-Chikin Mountain with the present-day peak Ulaan-Chikh, on the right bank of the Khoid Tamir, fourteen to fifteen kilometers northeast of Taikhar Rock. No archaeological traces of the Hula’an-Chikin settlement have yet been identified, however.

46. Lit., a little more than five zhàng high and forty bù around. However, the text as we have it speaks of it being ‘a little more than five feet high’ (gāo wǔchǐ xǔ 高五尺許). Such a height would not strike anyone in Mongolia as having a “wonderfully imposing appearance.” We have followed Prof. Ma Xiaolin’s suggestion to emend Zhang’s text to read gāo wǔzhàng xǔ 高五丈許 ‘a little more than five zhàng high,’ or about fifteen meters high.

47. Matsuda Kōichi (2013, 7–8) first made the correct identification of this “stone beacon-tower” with the famous natural rock formation Taikhar Rock. The rock stands across the Khoid Tamir River from the Zaankhoshuu, the center of Ikhtamir Sum (county). It is 68.9 meters around and 20 meters high. This rock has an ink inscription on it, reading “Autumn, VIII, dīng/yǒu [=August–September 1237], I was here. Signed: Shǐ Ge of Zhendingfu.” This inscription refers to Shǐ Ge (1222–1279), the son of Zhang Dehui’s patron Shǐ Tianze. In 1237, at age sixteen, he was summoned to the camp of Qubilai’s mother, Sorghaqtani Beki, as a hostage for his father and left this graffiti as he passed where Zhang Dehui would pass about a decade later. See Matsuda 2013, 4–6. Since Qubilai and his mother were likely nomadizing together it is not surprising that visitors to their camp followed the same route. The identifications proposed by Matsuda and followed here supersede those attempted in Atwood 2015, 342–43.

48. There is no river named Tangut in the area today or mentioned in any other source. Perhaps Zhang Dehui misunderstood a statement that this river was on the road to the Tangut land. The Chuluut, or “Stony” River, may be the one intended; its headwaters rise near the Eg Pass, which gives access to the south-flowing waters of the Baidrag River on its way south to the Tangut lands.

49. “Tent-palace,” or zhàngdiàn 帳殿, translates Mongolian ordo or “horde,” the mobile palace of the Inner Asian nomads. See Peng Daya and Xu Ting’s “Sketch,” pp. 97, 101.

50. The fifteenth day of the eighth moon, the day of the East Asian Mid-Autumn, or Moon-Watching, Festival. In 1247, it fell on September 15, 1247.

51. “Essence” here translates Chinese xìng 性, meaning “one’s inborn nature,” “particular inherent quality,” or “innate destiny” (Kroll 2015, s.v. xìng¸ 510b).

52. Ch. shèngrén 聖人. We follow Sinological convention in translating this as “sage,” but such a translation does not fully capture the political implications of the term. English “sage” may bring to mind an unworldly and secluded thinker, but in Chinese philosophy, a shèngrén was rather someone who through receptivity to Heaven and the needs of age created the sociopolitical institutions that would justly govern the civilized world. Thus, every founder of a legitimate dynasty was, by definition, a shèngrén. Such “sages” played the role in Confucian tradition that “lawgivers” such as Moses, Lycurgus, Numa, or Muhammad played in the Western Eurasian traditions. Indeed, in Chinese Islam, Muhammad’s role as the final prophet is translated as zhìshèng 至聖 or “ultimate sage, lawgiver, prophet.” Confucius was the archetypal shèngrén, but for Confucian thinkers the great puzzle was why, if he was so receptive to Heaven, he was never able to reorder the world in accordance with his teachings.

53. The “Way of the Sages” (Ch. Shèngrén zhī dào 聖人之道) was a common term for Confucianism particularly associated with the “Neo-Confucian” school of Song dynasty onward.

54. Ch. zǎizhí 宰執: in the Song and Jin a general term for officials who had the right to participate in high-level, policy-making deliberations with the emperor. See the Introduction, pp. 32–33.

55. Ch. zǔzōng 祖宗. This term, redolent of sacrality, here refers to the founders of the dynasty. Qubilai is probably referring particularly to the measures issued by Öködei Khan under the influence of Ila Chucai which, as Song Zizhen emphasized in the “Spirit-Path Stele,” were largely never implemented. As Ila Chucai says in the “Spirit-Path Stele”: “Laws and institutions, rules and regulations: all issued from the Late Emperor[s].”

56. Comparisons of Confucian governance with craftsmanship or medical practice were common in the Mongol era; see the anecdote about the Xia artisan, Chang Bajin, in Song Zizhen’s “Spirit-Path Stele,” p. 137.

57. Wei Fan: From Hongzhou in the Yunzhong area (present-day northern Shanxi), he received his metropolitan graduate degree in 1216 and served the Jin until its destruction when he returned north to his village. After Qubilai summoned him, he went to Qorum and recommended many other officials, before dying there (see the biography of his grandson Wei Chu in YS 164.3856–7). Yuan Haowen (1190–1257): From Taiyuanfu, he was the son of a distinguished local poet and himself one of the Jin dynasty’s most noted authors of verse and prose. He served in various low-level positions in the Jin bureaucracy and retired from office after the fall of the dynasty, writing poetry, anthologizing the finest poetry of his contemporaries, and collecting historical materials. Many of his poetical works are extant. As far as is known, he did not accept any summons from Qubilai (see JS 126.3742–43). Li Ye (1192–1279): From Zhendingfu, he received his metropolitan graduate degree under the Jin and was serving the dynasty as the prefect of Junzhou in Henan when it was overrun by the Mongols in 1232. He went into retirement in his home town. Qubilai summoned him after Zhang Dehui’s visit and the two discussed Confucian principles but Li Ye avoided office (see YS 160.3759–60). He was also a noted mathematician and one of the few Chinese proponents of a round earth.

58. Ninth day of the ninth moon, the day of the East Asian Double Ninth Festival. In 1247 it fell on October 8.

59. Ch. yān 崦, a literary term for mountain, derived from the legend of a mountain in northwest China into which the sun sets.

60. “Ritual,” or lǐ, here and below means more than just a custom, but a practice that serves to train the performers in proper moral attitudes and sentiments.

61. Ch. zǔzōng. Again, it is the dynastic ancestors, the founders of the Mongol Empire, which are being referred to. As Ila Chucai says in the “Spirit-Path Stele”: “The civilized world [tiānxià] is the Late Emperor[s]’ world.”

62. “Meritorious elder” (Ch. xūnjiù 勲舊) has the same sense as the “meritorious vassals” whose role is also emphasized in a famous memorial of Ila Chucai. See Song Zizhen’s “Spirit Path Stele” under year 1237, p. 149.

63. Kö’ün-Buqa was the second son of Chinggis’s half brother Belgüdei. Qutughu is the Tatar foundling called Shiki Qutughu in the Secret History of the Mongols. Kö’ün-Buqa led campaigns against the Southern Song in the Huainan area from 1235 to 1237; Qutughu served as judge (jarghuchi) for the central prefectures during the same period. Xu Ting (“Sketch,” pp. 110–11) charges that Qutughu’s application of Mongol taxes caused great distress. Zhang’s point may not be so much about the high quality of the administrators he mentions, but rather to have all of North China placed under a unified administration. It was the separate fiefs run by Mongol princes, empresses, and commanders as their private estates that were most notorious for exploitation and abuse.

64. “Local conditions” and “traditional customs” are fēngtǔ 風土 and xísú 習俗, respectively. See the Introduction, p. 22.

65. Bai Wenju (legal name, Hua): From Yùzhou Prefecture (in Hedong), he received his metropolitan graduate degree in 1216 and served first as registrar and then as administrative assistant in the Jin Privy Council. As such, from 1226 on, he participated in increasingly desperate debates as the Jin fell, and became known, at least to his Confucian colleagues, as both a staunch Confucian and a man of good military judgment. At the end of the dynasty he was sent to the border city of Dengzhou on a futile mission; he briefly surrendered the city to the Southern Song and received official positions from them, but later when another Jin official rebelled and handed the city over to the Mongols, he returned north. He is not known to have accepted any summons from Qubilai (see JS 114.2503–14). Gao Ming (1209–1274): From Zhendingfu, he had acquired a literary reputation in his youth. Turning down other offers of patronage, he accepted a summons from Hüle’ü when a messenger returned a third time and set forth more than twenty stratagems for the Mongol prince’s upcoming expedition against the Baghdad and the West. After 1260, he served Qubilai as an academician in the Hanlin Academy and as concurrent vice-minister in the Court of Imperial Sacrifices. From 1268 onward, he served as attendant censor in the new censorate. In 1270 his memorial played an important role in dissuading Qubilai from plans to revive the cumbersome three-departments organization of the central administration, which had not been genuinely in use since the Tang dynasty of 618–907 (see YS 160.3758–59). Li Pan: From Zhendingfu, he was employed by Qubilai’s mother, Sorghoqtani Beki, as a tutor for her youngest son, Ariq-Böke, presumably as a result of Zhang Dehui’s recommendation. Even so, Li Pan was imprisoned during Ariq-Böke’s attempt to raise an army in North China and fight Qubilai for the throne. Later, Qubilai’s part-Uyghur, part-Kitan advisor, Lian Xixian, brought his case to Qubilai’s attention and he was released (see YS 126.3086). As for Li Jinzhi and Zhao Yuande, an anthology of poetry by Yuan Haowen includes a poem by Li Jinzhi, and another poem in the anthology is dedicated to Zhao Yuande. In it, Zhao is called a censor for the Jin. No other details are known of their lives, however. Zheng Xianzhi and Li Tao are otherwise unknown.

66. That is, the Confucian Classical tradition.

67. The phrase “loving goodness and forgetting his power” is a quotation from the Warring States era Confucian thinker Mencius 7.viii.1 (cf. Legge [1895] 1970, 452).

68. This is an allusion to a story of the Warring States period told in chapter 34 of the Shiji, or the Records of the Grand Historian:

King Zhāo of Yan [r. 311–279 BC], after the shattering defeat of the kingdom of Yan [by the rival kingdom of Qi], abased himself and gave rich rewards to show respect to the worthy. [His tutor] Guo Kui said to him, “As Your Majesty certainly desires to summon scholars, let him first begin with Kui. Then indeed why would ones worthier than Kui think even a thousand lǐ far to travel?” Thereupon King Zhao refurbished a hall in the palace for Kui and served him as a pupil serves his tutor. [The brilliant general] Yue Yi came from Wèi, [the famous yin-yang theorist] Zou Yan came from Qi, and Ju Xin came from Zhào; scholars raced to get to Yan. The King of Yan lamented the dead, inquired after the lonely, and in all things shared the weal and woe of the common people.”

And indeed, then, in 284 BC, King Zhāo was able to ally with other kingdoms and crush the kingdom of Qi (Sima Qian, Shiji, 34.1558).