Following the revival of the Grand Canal during the Ming Dynasty, the construction of the Li Canal (里运河) embankment intensified its interaction with the surrounding water environment, playing a significant role in the continuity of the Li Canal’s water flow. This included the impact of the Yellow River on the northern section of the canal at Qingjiangpu (清江浦), as well as the influence of the Huai River’s eastward discharge on the construction of embankments, lake expansion, and water level rise in the central canal region. From the mid-Ming period onwards, the construction of central embankments not only facilitated the integration of the Gaobao lakes (高宝诸湖) but also promoted the overall connectivity of the canal’s water flow. By the end of the Ming Dynasty, the continuous accumulation of Huai River water at the Gaojia Weir (高家堰) raised the water level, increasing the inflow into the Gaobao lakes and further enhancing the flow through the Li Canal. With the proliferation of various sluice gates and dams and the rise in water levels in the north, the water flow throughout the Li Canal became even more unobstructed. In this context, the river mouth sections of Guazhou and Yizheng, which had long required external water diversion for navigation, no longer needed such assistance.
In the early Qing Dynasty, the official strategy for managing the Yellow and Huai River floods largely adhered to the Ming Dynasty’s water management philosophy, prioritizing ‘restraint’ over ‘dredging’. During Emperor Kangxi’s reign, the policy of ‘opening the sea outlets’ was effectively implemented with imperial intervention, fundamentally aimed at achieving ‘diversion to the sea’ by deepening the drainage channels and expanding the sea outlets along the coastal counties of the Xiahe Area. As the water conditions of the Yellow River, Huai River, the Grand Canal, and Hongze Lake evolved, the deepening of river channels alone could no longer effectively direct waters from the central lowlands to the coastal accumulation zones, resulting in frequent overflows and disasters. Therefore, during Emperor Qianlong’s reign, embankments were constructed along the sides of the returning-to-sea rivers to confine the waters. Concurrently, the construction of polder fields began, linking with river embankments to establish a polder system in the coastal counties of the Xiahe Area. Influenced by the eastward flow of water and the impact of the ocean, the water environment and the construction of embankments in these coastal counties exhibited characteristics of complex and dynamic changes.
In 2017, a Sino-Mongolian joint expedition team discovered the famous ‘Yanran Mountain Inscription’ (《燕然山铭》) at the southern foot of the Delger Hangai Mountain in the Gobi Desert of the Central Gobi Province, Mongolia, thereby, the location of Yanran Mountain was determined. Maps from the Republic of China era labeled the Yanran Mountain as the ‘Yilichen Hulun Ridge’ (伊里陈·忽伦岭), meaning ‘Wild Donkey Ridge’ (野驴山). ‘Yanran’ corresponds to ‘IlTien-Ilichen’ (IlTien-伊里陈), a remnant of the Hun’s language signifying ‘donkey’. In Turkic, it is IlTien. In Mongolian, it is also IlTien. In Chinese, it translates to ‘Yanzhi’ (燕支) or ‘Yanzhijin’ (燕只斤). During the Qing Dynasty, the Yanran Mountain was known as ‘Yinier’ (衣尼尔), given by the third Dalai Lama, which is ‘Irina’ in Sanskrit. The Mongolian pronunciation reverses the phonemes to form Inria > Inir. The current name, Delger qangγai, is the Mongolian rendition of Irina or Inir, which means ‘prolonged mountain range’. In 1208, Genghis Khan built a palace on Yanran Mountain, known as the ‘Dragon Court’ (龙庭).
The Western Jin Dynasty’s prefectures and counties as recorded in Du Yu’s (杜预) Chunqiu Shili (《春秋释例》) and Chunqiu Jingzhuan Jijie (《春秋经传集解》) predominantly reflect the administrative divisions established at the outset of the Taishi (泰始) era. The incorporations in the provinces of Jingzhou (荆州), Yangzhou (扬州), and Xuzhou (徐州) partially include those from the Taikang (太康) era. By analyzing Du Yu’s interpretations of geographical locations, we can further investigate and supplement the historical evolution of the Western Jin Dynasty’s prefectures and counties. Connecting Du Yu’s geographical insights with the history of the Western Jin’s feudal system, it is inferred that the reassignment of Dongchaoyang (东朝阳) to Le’anguo (乐安国) and Xiaquyang (下曲阳) to Zhaoguo (赵国) occurred in the third year of the Xian Ning (咸宁) era, and that in the first year of Taikang, the establishment was of Linhuaijun (临淮郡), not Linhuaiguo (临淮国). Du Yu’s approach to explicating ancient place names within county jurisdictions reveals that Xuxian (徐县) was indeed abolished at the beginning of Taishi. During the Spring and Autumn Period, Loulin (娄林) was located east of the Xuguo’s (徐国) capital, dispelling previous misconceptions that placed it in the northwest. Following Du Yu’s methodical exposition of rivers and their paths through various jurisdictions, we can deduce the administrative evolution of counties such as Nandun (南顿), Ruo (鄀), Gaotang (高唐), and Chiping (茌平).
The New Book of Tang recorded that in the first year of the Xingyuan, Emperor Dezong of Tang granted the title of Baoning Army (保宁军) to Hedong Jiedu (河东节度), but this statement did not conform to historical facts. Baoning Army was another fiefdom that coexisted with Hedong Army.In the period of Jianzhong, Ma Sui, the military governor of Hedong, and others launched a campaign against Weibo, initially achieving a series of victories and capturing a large number of Weibo’s surrendered soldiers. After the Jingyuan Army’s Rebellion, the Hebei Camp disbanded. Emperor Dezong of Tang organized the surrendered soldiers into the Baoning Army and appointed Ma Sui as the military governor. At the beginning of the Zhenyuan period, Ma Sui repeatedly requested the integration of the Baoning Army into the Hedong Army, but all were rejected. In the third year of the Zhenyuan period, Ma Sui was stripped of his military power, and the court officially abolished the military name of the Baoning Army. The Baoning Army existed for only four years, and its establishment and abolition reflected the political struggle between the court and the Hedong Army.
The transformation of Zhapu (乍浦), a town in Jiaxing, Zhejiang Province, into a prominent foreign trade port in the northern part of Hangzhou Bay during the mid-to-late 18th century was not a mere accident. It was the result of a combination of factors, including its geographical location, transportation network, and policy orientation. The ‘trade network’ discussed in this article focuses on the circulation of goods within and between regions, covering various aspects such as regional transportation, market systems, and merchant groups. The merchants trading at Zhapu built a flexible and diverse trade network based on the procurement of foreign copper and the vast maritime area. Zhapu Port’s trade network symbolizes the East Asian economic order, embodying an integrated network that merges ‘tributary trade’ with ‘market system’.
The opening of treaty ports profoundly influences local transportation, commerce, and social change. While existing research often concentrates on ports with significant modernization achievements, there is a dearth of studies exploring the constraints faced by ‘unsatisfactory’ ports in their challenging modernization processes. Longzhou (龙州), located in Guangxi Province and adjacent to northern Vietnam, is situated in a rugged mountainous area at the upper reaches of the Zuojiang (左江), characterized by its treacherous waters and numerous shoals. This study examines the opening of Longzhou and the evolution of transportation geography along the Guangxi-Vietnam border. By analyzing the development of railway, waterway, and highway construction plans and the changes in their leadership, it concludes that geographical positioning was both the catalyst for Longzhou’s opening at certain historical moments and a fundamental, long-term obstacle to improving transportation infrastructure. As a result, Longzhou repeatedly encountered setbacks in trade route competition, reflecting the substantial historical inertia of the natural geographical environment and the intricate power struggles among various forces in the Guangxi-Vietnam border region under fluctuating political circumstances.
The site of Chengdu during the Qin to the Northern and Southern dynasties was located on the second terrace of the Min River (岷江) system. The scarcity of construction soil and the floods of the Pi River (郫江) were the main reasons for the formation of the ‘Tortoise City’ layout of Chengdu’s Qin city, which consisted of two cities, the larger and the smaller, arranged side by side to the east and west. The orientation of the Qin city and its internal structures followed the natural terrain, with a deliberate inclination of about 30 degrees north-east to facilitate drainage and flood control. By combining archaeological and documentary evidence, the approximate positions of the gates, walls, and central partitions of Chengdu’s Qin city can be reconstructed. The western wall of Chengdu’s Qin city was a considerable distance from the Pi River, while the southern wall was closer. The historical records mentioning 18 gates and a circumference of twelve li are considered accurate.
This article, based on the translation of The History of Cartography, delves into issues concerning the production and utilization of ancient Chinese maps. It proposes that research on map production should broaden to encompass the technologies applied at various stages of mapmaking, the composition and professional communities of cartographers. Additionally, research on map usage should examine the diverse applications of maps across different social strata and affairs, as well as their prevalence. The analysis indicates that maps played a crucial role in the knowledge production and dissemination in ancient China, a fact that warrants significant attention in future studies. By contrasting with the study of cartographic history during the European Renaissance, this article stresses the importance of future research on ancient Chinese maps to be imaginative, identifying valuable questions and perspectives.
The existing cataloging and compilation of ancient maps have showcased the pioneering efforts of researchers in the field of cartographic history. However, the classification of these maps warrants further scrutiny. Current classifications are largely based on modern cartographic standards, which tend to focus on maps of the real world — geographic maps — while overlooking maps that represent the conceptual or metaphysical world. Moreover, there is a scarcity of attention given to the classification based on the materiality of maps. This oversight leads to at least two significant losses: the potential omission of cartographic materials that reflect the spatial perceptions of specific regions or groups, and the missed opportunity to identify a more reliable method for dating maps than what can be gleaned from the map’s textual and visual information alone. The establishment of map traditions and cultures is contingent upon the proper classification of individual map works.
After summarizing data and events relating to the figure of the Jesuit Michele Ruggieri (1543-1607), a pioneer of the period of encounter between East and West in the Modern Age, and his project, which remained at the manuscript stage, to publish the first Western atlas of China. The article analyses in detail, on the basis of the materials that now exist at the State Archives in Rome, the missionary’s working methodology, based on Chinese cartographic sources, their enlargement and transliteration of the toponyms contained therein, and cartographic tracing. Following these operations, a further phase would have seen a professional cartographer succeed Ruggieri in the processing of the maps, which, thus finished, would finally be passed on to the engraver for the copperplate engraving (the latter phase was never completed due to Ruggieri’s death). Further topics addressed are an estimate of Ruggieri’s materials connected to the atlas that were originally intended to be present among the working materials, but which are now destroyed or missing, some epistemological reflections on the nature of the cartography of the atlas, and, finally, some notes on what graphic layout and impact Ruggieri’s atlas would have had if published.
This study combines the findings of previous research with the records from the ‘Tong Wen Zi Fang’ (同文字方) No. 8-455 of the Liye Qin Slips. The ‘Taishou’(太守) in the ‘Jimo Taishou’ (即墨太守) sealing clay is written as ‘Dashou’ (大守), indicating that it dates before the implementation of the ‘Shu Tong Wen Zi’ (书同文字) policy. This suggests that the establishment of Jimo Jun (即墨郡) likely occurred after the Qin Dynasty conquered the State of Qi and before the ‘Shu Tong Wen Zi’ policy was implemented. Furthermore, records from Liye No. 8-657 indicate that Jimo Jun existed for a very short period and may have been merged into Langya Jun (琅邪郡) when Emperor Qin Shi Huang reorganized the state into thirty-six jun. This explains why Jimo Jun was not mentioned by scholars when discussing the thirty-six jun of the Qin Dynasty and the subsequent forty-eight jun.
Dingyang County (定阳县) was established at the end of Eastern Han Dynasty, subsequently abolished during the Sui Dynasty, briefly reestablished at the beginning of Tang Dynasty, and then abolished again. Previous historical records, including The Historical Atlas of China and The General History of Chinese Administrative Divisions, placed the administrative seat of Dingyang County in the southeast of present-day Changshan County (常山县), Zhejiang. However, recent archaeological discoveries, such as The Epitaph of Zhao Ding (《赵鼎墓志铭》), suggest that the administrative seat was actually located in the area around Qiantang Village, Hejia Township, in the northwest of present-day Changshan County. The Commentary on the Water Classic mentions the Dingyang Stream, which flowed through Dingyang County. With the county’s eventual abolition, the name ‘Dingyang Stream’ became seldom seen in documentary records. Compilers of local chronicles during the Ming and Qing dynasties misinterpreted the Commentary on the Water Classic and the Geographical Treatise of Sui Book, identifying the Dongxi River (now known as the Wuxi River, 乌溪江), located east of Quzhou, as the Dingyang Stream. This error has been perpetuated by many scholars in modern times. By reevaluating the location of Dingyang County’s administrative seat, this paper argues that the Dingyang Stream referenced in the Commentary on the Water Classic is the present-day Changshan Port, rather than the Wuxi River.
