Source 7.6: Letters from the Silk Roads

Some insight into the personal strains of life on the Silk Roads comes from two letters written between husband and wife, miraculously preserved and discovered during archeological excavations in the early twentieth century. The first comes from a low-ranking Chinese military official named Xuan, who wrote to his wife Yousun sometime between 103 B.C.E. and 40 C.E. Xuan had been posted to Juyan Fort on the Great Wall of China, which offered protection for Chinese merchants traveling westward on the Silk Roads. There, soldiers were assigned to particular watchtowers to be on the lookout for “barbarian” incursions. China’s Han dynasty rulers also encouraged them to settle permanently in the region to establish a more solid Chinese presence at the eastern terminus of the Silk Road network.

Questions to consider as you examine the source:

Source 7.6A

From a Soldier on Guard Duty, 103 B.C.E–40 C.E.

Xuan [the husband’s name] prostrate to show respect:

Yousun, my dear wife, your life is really hard. Being at the frontier in the summer, I hope you have enough food and clothing. If this is true, I feel happy at the frontier. Only because of the support of Yousun, Xuan can serve at the frontier faithfully and have no need to worry about home.

Your brother Youdu followed the county governor to arrive at Juyan on the tenth day of the month. He told me that your parents were fine. As he came here for business in a great hurry, he probably did not get a chance to see you before his departure.

On the eleventh day, I came here to report to Houguan [Xuan’s superior officer]. As the work is not finished yet, I take time to write this letter, wish all my best.

I just received a letter . . . saying the station chief has arrived at the Linqu watchtower. I am writing this letter to you Yousun. The Houguan will be gone tomorrow. The inspector has not yet arrived. I had better work hard now so that I will not receive a low grade of assessment among the officers when inspected.

Source: Chen Zhi, Juyan Hanjian Yanjiu [Studies of the Wooden Slips from Juyan] (Tianjin: Guji Chubanshe, 1986), 492–93. Translated by Xinru Liu. Adapted from the Bedford series book Xinru Liu, The Silk Roads , p. 48. Copyright © 2012 Bedford/St. Martin’s.

A second set of letters reflects the difficulties of Sogdian traders and their families on the Silk Road. These Central Asian merchants had established a long-lasting network of exchange with China as well as settlements within China, while their language became a medium of communication along much of the Silk Roads network. One such trader, named Nanai-dhat, lived with his wife and daughter in Dunhuang on the far western edge of China during the early fourth century C.E. Amid the turmoil that followed the demise of the Han dynasty, Nanai-dhat left the area, abandoning his previously well-to-do wife Miwnay and his daughter Shayn to poverty and unwelcome service to local Chinese families. Their desperate letter to Nanai-dhat and Miwnay’s letter to her mother disclose something of the personal tragedies that accompanied people far from home in times of political upheaval on the Silk Roads. Breaks in the text reflect the fragmentary remains of the letters.

Source 7.6B

From an Abandoned Wife, Early Fourth Century C.E.

To (my) noble lord (and) husband Nanai-dhat, blessing (and) homage on bended knee, as is offered to the gods. And (it would be) a good day for him who might see you healthy, happy (and) free from illness, together with everyone; and, sir, when I hear (news of) your (good) health, I consider myself immortal!

Behold, I am living . . . badly, not well, wretchedly, and I consider myself dead. Again and again I send you a letter, (but) I do not receive a (single) letter from you, and I have become without hope towards you. My misfortune is this, (that) I have been in Dunhuang for three years thanks(?) to you, and there was a way out a first, a second, even a fifth time, (but) he refused to bring me out. I requested the leaders that support (should be given) to Farnkhund for me, so that he may take me to (my) husband and I would not be stuck in Dunhuang, (for) Farnkhund says: I am not Nanai-dhat’s servant, nor do I hold his capital. I also requested thus: If he refuses to take me to (my) husband, then . . . such support for me that he may take me to (my) mother.

[In a fragmentary section she declares that her father would not suffer her being a servant of the Chinese, before telling her husband that if his intention was for her to become a servant that] you write to me so that I should know how to serve the Chinese. In my paternal abode I did not have such a restricted . . . as with(?) you. I obeyed your command and came to Dunhuang and I did not observe (my) mother’s bidding nor (my) brothers’. Surely(?) the gods were angry with me on the day when I did your bidding! I would rather be a dog’s or a pig’s wife than yours!

Sent by (your) servant Miwnay.

[Added in the margin was a note from his daughter.] From (his) daughter Shayn to the noble lord Nanai-dhat, blessing (and) homage. And (it would be) a good [day] for him [who] might see [you] healthy, rested (and) happy. . . . I have become . . . and I watch over a flock of domestic animals. . . . I know that you do not lack twenty staters(?) [a unit of money] to send. It is necessary to consider the whole (matter). Farnkhund has run away; the Chinese seek him but do not find him. Because of Farnkhund’s debts we have become the servants of the Chinese, I together with (my) mother.

[In another letter Miwnay writes to her mother.]

From her daughter, the free-woman Miwnay, to her dear [mother] Chatis, blessing and homage. . . . It would be a good day for him who might [see] you healthy and at ease; and [for me] that day would be the best when we ourselves might see you in good health. I am very anxious to see you, but have no luck. I petitioned the councillor Sagharak, but the councillor says: Here there is no other relative closer to Nanai-dhat than Artivan. And I petitioned Artivan, but he says: Farnkhund . . . And Farnkhund says: If your husband’s relative does not consent that you should go back to your mother, how should I take you? Wait until . . . comes; perhaps Nanai-dhat will come. I live wretchedly, without clothing, without money; I ask for a loan, but no-one consents to give me one, so I depend on charity from the priest. He said to me: If you go, I will give you a camel, and a man should go with you, and on the way I will look after you well. May he do so for me until you send me a letter!

Source: From Professor Nicholas Sims-Williams (translator), The Sogdian Ancient Letters, http://depts.washington.edu/silkroad/texts/sogdlet.html. Used by permission.