“They may conquer the desert spaces and shatter its silences, but they can never capture its magic charm.”  

By George Yagi Jr.

BUILT ON THE frontiers of China during the Ming Dynasty, the 14^th century fortress at Jiayuguan played an important role in defending the empire from nomadic invaders and regulating trade along the vital Silk Road.

While the outpost was important, the people who called it home found it very isolating.

Despite this, it remained inhabited for centuries.

During the 1920s, a trio of British missionaries that included Mildred Cable and two sisters, Eva and Francesca French, ventured into the Gobi Desert to spread the gospel among the Chinese, Tibetian, Mongol and Uyghur populations of the region. In the course of their travels, they spent a period of time ministering to the people of Jiayuguan.

While at the fortress town, the women noticed three social groups that dominated daily life: the townspeople, soldiers and travellers. Although many struggled to overcome the boredom that came with the reclusive surroundings, the outpost thrived for the benefit of travellers who made the arduous journey on China’s legendary trade route.

The townspeople of Jiayuguan endured many hardships amid their everyday drudgery. Although the city of Jiuquan, also known as Suzhou, was a short distance from the outpost, many fort’s residents had never visited there; the inns and shops of the fortress were the centre of their lives. While visiting among the inhabitants during her stay, Cable learned of the maddening effects isolation could have on the locals:

They told how Merchant Chang’s son had stolen sixty dollars of his father’s savings and had joined the famous robber chief White Wolf, how Liu the miller had beaten his young wife and how she had killed herself by eating a whole box of matches, how Li the blacksmith’s son was so profligate that his father took a sledge-hammer and crushed his head as he lay asleep. The gossip of that sleepy township was one long string of tragic happenings.

Although the tales might have ended disastrously for the parties involved, gossip was a favourite pastime among the locals.

For others who managed to maintain their sanity, Cable observed, “When the fortress gates were closed each night they put up the shutters of the little shops and crept under miserable coverlets to lie on mud kangs [or mud beds warmed by a fire], fill their opium pipes and escape to the land of illusion and dreams.”

Trapped in a daily routine, this was she added, “the only wider horizon that they knew.”

While the townspeople sought to find some relief from their desolate existence, the soldiers stationed in the remote Central Asian desert despised their assignment. They were not content to live in isolation, especially since the city of Jiuquan was not far away. Consequently, the troops regularly visited it to escape life at the fort. On their demeanour, Cable noted:

Unlike the old residents, the military hated the place and seized every chance of being away from it, bitterly resenting the appointment to such a lonely outpost, and longing to be transferred elsewhere. Nothing would have induced them to walk outside the North-West Gate where that fateful Gobi Desert stretched, and their eyes always turned longingly to the city where, twenty miles away, there was solace, gaiety and life.

The soldiers also viewed the Gobi with dread. Local legends told of demons lurking just beyond the gates of the fortress. According to superstition, evil spirits impersonated those lost in the desert and called out for help. If one were to rush to their assistance, they would soon find themselves lost, with fatal consequences.

The frustration and fear of the desert was also echoed by soldiers’ wives who complained, “There is nothing to do here all day but sit and listen to that howling wind.”

In an effort to dispel the tedium, locals indulged in gambling and opium. The respite was short-lived.

“The next morning’s reaction brought a fierce hatred of this place where desert demons hid themselves in dust-clouds and whistled through every crevice of the crazy buildings,” recalled Cable.

Conversely, travellers to Jiayuguan often enjoyed their visits and livened the atmosphere for those who called the outpost home. In turn, the inns and shops existed for outsiders; everything was done to cater to guests. Cable summarized:

“For the night’s lodging a traveler would give two pence, and for that small sum have room enough to stretch himself on the kang, get his dinner cooked for him at the kitchen fire, and have unlimited boiling water to drink.”

Among the shops, she added, “[one] could purchase tobacco, cigarettes, matches and rough paper made from the pulped leaf of the dwarf iris, [and] small screws of red pepper mixed with coarse salt as condiment to the tasteless inn food.” While moving among the inhabitants, travellers were welcomed by all social classes inside the citadel. Cable fondly recalled:

We often sat on the customer’s bench at the shop doors and talked with the old residents, who liked to recount the past glories of the fortress, and many hours were spent with all sorts and conditions of women, sometimes in hovels, sometimes in back-shops or in private houses, as well as in official residences. Such talk was always interesting and we learnt a great deal from it, we all enjoyed each other’s company so that when the time came to move on there was already a foot down which it hurt to tear up.

When the time came to say farewell, the missionaries received many small presents ranging from useful supplies to fresh vegetables from a well-wisher’s garden. As they departed the outpost, even the guards took a moment to wish them a safe trip and urged them to throw a stone at the fortress wall for good luck. Upon hearing the distinctive chirp of pebble hitting brick– a good omen – the soldiers happily informed their visitors, “Your journey will be prosperous.”

While conditions at Jiayuguan appeared desolate in the 1920s, the outpost continued to function as an important waypoint for travellers along the Silk Road. It was a place for rest and hospitality, and although the inhabitants might not have much to share with the outside world, what little they did was given generously. The interactions between residents and travellers was a hallmark of the experience at the citadel.

Sadly, the situation would change with the outbreak of civil war in 1927. In 1936, as Cable and her fellow missionaries made their journey along the ancient trade route for the last time, they could see the devastating effects of the conflict.

The final blow would come with the outbreak of the Second World War and the modernization that swiftly followed. The sweeping changes brought about by the conflict forever altered life in the Gobi. Reflecting on these dramatic transformations, Cable fondly recalled, “They may conquer the desert spaces and shatter its silences, but they can never capture its magic charm.”

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