“As a symbol of the extent of the Chinese Empire, and marking the end of the Great Wall, it is not surprising that Jiayuguan developed a near mythical reputation.”

By George Yagi Jr.

ESTABLISHED ALONG THE Silk Road in 1372, the fortress of Jiayuguan in Gansu province served as the western door to China and marked the extent of Ming imperial power. Beyond its gates was the realm of nomads and exiles who dwelled among the various oases scattered in the vast Gobi Desert.

Initial construction began under the direction of General Feng Sheng, who not only extended the Great Wall, but built the first garrison in the heavily invaded Hexi Corridor. Attacks by Mongols and Uyghurs along this route were problematic, and the Hongwu Emperor was determined to put an end to these incursions. After quickly erecting modest defences, construction began on the present fortifications, which took 168 years to complete.

From the 14th century onwards, fantastic stories emerged, only adding to Jiayuguan’s mystique as the most remote outpost of the Chinese Empire. They included tales of the citadel’s ingenious architect, wild legends of the mysterious inhabitants living beyond its gates, and the tragic chronicles of the castoffs sent into exile behind its mighty walls. These, coupled with the fortress’ celebrated impregnability gave Jiayuguan its legendary reputation in Chinese history.

The final brick

According to tradition, the story of the construction of the fortress revolves around its architect, Yi Kaizhan.

Under the supervision of Lu Fu, Yi was instructed to calculate exactly how many bricks were necessary to build the castle. If the count was off one brick, the architect would lose his head. Unfortunately, Lu was a corrupt government official and planned to collect Yi’s fee following his execution.

When presented with the exact figure, 99,999 bricks, Lu pressed Yi to make the figure an even 100,000. However, when the final brick was laid, one was left over. Delighted, Lu thought he would collect Yi’s wages and as further punishment, force all his labourers into service for an additional three years.

Quick to sense the danger he was facing, Yi engraved the last brick as his own and placed it above the gate, claiming it was from heaven and that the future of the fort depended on it remaining in its place. He further warned that if this brick that balanced the structure was removed, the tower would fall.

Lu conceded defeat, and the lone brick supposedly still guards the gateway today.

The Gate of Demons

The Gobi Desert itself was viewed with terror by the Chinese, and there were fears of unseen creatures in the vast unknown. During a visit to the fortress in the 1920s, British missionary Mildred Cable noted as she exited the Traveler’s Gate, “Just outside… was a high stony mound which blocked the view. It had been thrown up to act as a barrier against the elemental and inimical spirits of the Gobi.”

As she peered over the desolate landscape, a young soldier that had accompanied her remarked, “Demons… they are the ones who inhabit the Gobi. This place is full of them, and many have heard their voices calling… from among the sand-mounds.”

Evidently this belief was common among the garrison, for Cable observed its members, “always turned away from it with a shudder, and hurried toward the noisy clatter of the drill-ground and the barrack-room.”

The howling winds and fierce blowing sands only added to the foreboding atmosphere. It’s no surprise that the outpost was also known by another name, the Gate of Demons.

Outcasts

Not all travellers departing Jiayuguan did so willingly, and many of those venturing into the desert were unfortunates condemned to a life of exile. While the entrance facing the Gobi was officially known as the Traveler’s Gate, it was additionally dubbed the Gate of Sighs.

On examining it during her visit, Cable observed, “The long archway was covered with writings, and anyone with sufficient knowledge to appreciate Chinese penmanship could see at once that these were the work of men of scholarship, who had fallen on an hour of deep distress.”

Quotes of sorrow came from the Book of Odes, as well as other sources of Chinese classical literature. Regarding the identity of the authors, Cable added, “Some were heavy-hearted exiles, others were disgraced officials, and some were criminals no longer tolerated within China’s borders.”

Among the disgraced officials included Lin Zexu, who famously attempted to halt the opium trade in Canton during the 19^th century, sparking the outbreak of the First Opium War in 1839. Following a brief exile in distant Xinjiang among the Uyghurs, where he served as a scapegoat for China’s defeat at the hands of the British, Lin was later pardoned by the Qing government and allowed to return. Others, however, were not so fortunate.

As a symbol of the extent of the Chinese Empire, and marking the end of the Great Wall, it is not surprising that Jiayuguan developed a near mythical reputation. Guarding the approach of travellers journeying from the distant west, and serving as the final sight of the homeland for those who fell out of favour with the government, the outpost truly appeared impregnable. This image was only further enhanced during a visit by General Zuo Zongtang in 1873, who enthusiastically referred to the fortress as the “First and Greatest Pass under Heaven.” His words were soon inscribed on a tablet and installed over an archway, immortalizing another name in popular memory. While time and conflicts have taken their toll on the ancient citadel, it remains one of the best-preserved military fortifications in China. Although the soldiers are long gone, it still continues its watch over what was once the bustling lane of commerce known as the Silk Road.

Dr. George Yagi Jr. is an award-winning author and historian at the University of the Pacific. Follow him on Twitter @gyagi_jr