The process by which meritocratic elites, recruited through education and examinations, supplanted hereditary lineages to dominate the social, political, and cultural realms during the Song dynasty has received extensive study.Footnote 1 Scholars have also examined the fate of these literati elites in the coexistent northern regimes that prioritized martial qualities, particularly during the Jin dynasty.Footnote 2 They have delineated a late-Jin intellectual revival, a cultural renaissance where talented men of the post-war generations championed accomplishments in literature and classical studies. The Zhongzhou ji 中州集 (Collection of Central Regions) by Yuan Haowen 元好問 (1190–1257), written with a tone of nostalgia after the Mongol conquest, provides one of the most crucial testimonies to this flourishing culture of Chinese intellectuals under Jurchen rule.
As stated in the preface to the Zhongzhou ji, Yuan's vivid accounts aim to preserve the words and deeds of the illustrious literati active during the heyday of the Jin.Footnote 3 These literati include both those who succeeded in obtaining official titles, known as the shidafu or scholar-officials, and those who did not and remained without title, to whom I will refer as the shi. Intriguingly, when we shift our attention to Jin tombs discovered and reported by archaeologists, only scholar-officials can be identified in the epitaphs buried within. The shi are almost absent. This phenomenon is remarkable because, in Northern Song tombs, both scholar-officials and shi have a pronounced presence, as demonstrated in their epitaphs. It seems as though the shi suddenly disappeared from society during the Jin, which is certainly not the case. How do we explain the discrepancy between Jin literati's accounts and the phenomenon disclosed in excavated tombs?
In the imperial past, Chinese tombs were hierarchically constructed, adorned, and furnished with burial goods, reflecting the social status of the occupants and allowing for the reconstruction of a stratified “underground society.” This article commences with a comprehensive survey of all Jin tombs to understand their temporal, geographical, and social distribution. To search for the shi, it then focuses on tombs where traces of the shi are most likely to be found—those bearing burial inscriptions and ink writings—for a detailed analysis. Unlike Yuan's insider documentation, which offers insights into the internal dynamics of the literati circle, the unearthed tombs encompass a diverse range of social elites beyond the literati. Consequently, it becomes possible to reintegrate the shi into the broader social fabric and assess their social standing compared to other elites. The dialectic between transmitted texts and excavated materials enables us to gain a more holistic and nuanced picture of Jin elite society and culture.
Disparity between Transmitted Texts and Excavated Tombs
The Jin conquered the Liao and Northern Song, bringing the territories of the former Liao and parts of the Northern Song, mainly the area to the north of the Huai 淮 River, under its control. During the dynastic transition, people living in the parts of North China formerly under the Northern Song rule experienced perhaps the most dramatic changes. First and foremost, the Jurchens, a federation of forest tribes from modern Manchuria, replaced the Han Chinese Zhao clan to become the new rulers, forcing a significant number of the ruling elite, of whom scholar-officials constituted a considerable part, from the Central Plains.Footnote 4 The area most affected included modern Shandong, Henan, Shaanxi, and the southern part of Shanxi and Hebei.
Tombs of the Liao, Northern Song, and Jin offer a glimpse of the social changes in the aftermath of the Jurchen wars. The tomb data are collected from more than 120 excavation reports, covering 840 tombs from the Liao, 1,524 from the Northern Song, 627 from the Jin, and 692 from the Southern Song. The online appendix to this article provides a full list of the Jin tombs consulted in this research.
Epitaphs serve as an effective marker for the elite. The tombs that yielded epitaphs account for only a small fraction of the total tombs excavated, with Liao and Northern Song around 14 percent and the Jin 6 percent (Table 1). The actual numbers can be lower because low-level small burial pits are often not properly published and, therefore, cannot be cataloged for analysis. These tombs with epitaphs buried within often feature a more spacious grave chamber, more elaborate decoration, or a larger number of burial goods. Their owners, no doubt, belonged to the upper echelons of society, and their pedigrees, marriage ties, official careers, or occupations were often recorded in detail in their epitaphs.
1 North China includes modern provinces of Hebei, Henan, Shandong, Shanxi, Shaanxi, Gansu, Ningxia (Gansu and Ningxia are included because the southern regions of the two provinces belonged to the Northern Song)
A look at the deceased's occupational information recorded in the epitaphs shows a clear contrast between the North and the South. Although officials were the most dominant users of epitaphs in all three dynasties, the shi, who constituted the second largest group of epitaph users after officials during the Northern Song, did not appear in the Liao and Jin. The absence of shi in epitaphs from Jin tombs can be seen as a continuation of the Liao, where the presence of shi users was so scarce that they did not form a recognizable group in burials. However, given that the Jin also inherited the Central Plains from the Northern Song, where were the prominent shi users once active in this area during the former dynasty? To a certain extent, this attests to the devastation of the Song–Jin war, which drove most scholar-officials and their families, of which many were shi, away from the Central Plains, causing a restructuring of local powers in this region.
Shortly after the Jurchens established the Jin regime, the jinshi civil service examinations were resumed to recruit local officials, with more than six thousand men participating.Footnote 5 During the latter half of the twelfth century, as the Jin emperors actively restored schools and Confucian learning, new generations of scholars and literati rose, inaugurating the so-called “late Jin intellectual revival.”Footnote 6 Overall, the Jin government conferred more jinshi degrees than the Northern and Southern Song did.Footnote 7 The pass rates varied depending on period and place, but those who succeeded in passing the exams remained the select few.Footnote 8 Even in the Zhongzhou ji, 37 out of 235 recorded illustrious men, most of whom originated from Hebei and southern Shanxi districts, the two cultural centers of jinshi, did not hold official titles.Footnote 9 Intriguingly, no such a group can be readily identified in excavated tombs.
The near absence of shi in Jin tombs is a puzzle. It is unlikely that none of their tombs have been discovered, given the many tombs excavated. The more plausible hypothesis is that these men rarely marked their resting places with epitaphs, as their Northern Song forerunners or Southern Song counterparts did. Whether this was due to the sumptuary law that reserved the use of epitaphs exclusively to officials with titles is unknown, as the Jin government's regulations do not survive. Whatever the reason, most Jin-dynasty shi did not bury an epitaph in their tomb to affirm their cultural elite affiliation. The following questions arise: Did they give up marking their identity as cultural elites in the afterlife altogether? Or did they adopt other ways to do it? Moreover, are there other traces in tombs expressing the presence of shi? The disparity of historical pictures derived from transmitted texts and excavated tombs allows us to rethink the position of the shi in Jin society.
Overview of Jin Tombs
Unlike elite tombs of the earlier periods, which have grander scales and magnificent burial contents, those of the Liao, Song, and Jin tend to be more moderate. In the 1990s Dieter Kuhn comprehensively cataloged and analyzed more than 800 burials of the Song dynasty and looked into certain remarkable aspects of Song burial customs, such as the frugality of intellectuals’ tombs, the adoption of couple burials, and the textual contents and natures of epitaphs and land deeds, among other aspects.Footnote 10 As renowned Song scholar-officials’ family cemeteries have been discovered in recent decades, cross-examination between the burials and their owners’ writings preserved in transmitted texts becomes feasible. This sheds light on the Song high elite's endeavors in formulating a ritual system that was rooted in the Classics and suitable for contemporary use.Footnote 11 Kuhn also extended his study to the Liao dynasty, comparing Liao tombs with Song tombs to investigate “how the Qidan reshaped the tradition of the Chinese tomb.”Footnote 12 Recently, some scholars followed Kuhn's lead, analyzing how the Khitan nobility appropriated Han-Chinese burial practices while at the same time preserving their subjectivity.Footnote 13
Compared with the macro-scale comprehensive research on Liao and Song tombs, the study of Jin tombs is more thematic. A notable body of scholarship focuses on the richly decorated brick-chamber tombs in northern China during the late Northern Song and Jin, particularly those carved or painted with the characteristic tomb portraits of the deceased, filial piety stories, and theatrical and domestic scenes in southern Shanxi. Some unveil the textual sources of the depicted pious sons and the modular characteristics of their design.Footnote 14 Others approach these popular motifs from ritual and religious perspectives, viewing them as visual documentation of certain ritual performances or a means to facilitate the dead's afterlife happiness or their pursuit of post-mortem immortality.Footnote 15 The owners of these tombs are generally believed to be non-literati local elites, such as wealthy landlords or merchants.Footnote 16
Tables 1 and 2 provide an overview of excavated Jin tombs. More than 600 Jin tombs have been published, centered in the modern provinces of Hebei and Shanxi (Table 2). This geographical distribution aligns with scholars’ discussion of the political and cultural landscape of the Jin, that is, after the Jurchen war, north and east of the Yellow River, namely, the Hebei 河北 and Hedong 河東 areas. These became prosperous inner lands that produced the most significant number of jinshi.Footnote 17 It is noticeable that these areas were previously divided between the Liao and the Northern Song, with the northern part being the Southern and Western Capitals of the Liao and the southern half the border areas of the Northern Song. Despite the Jin unification of the two halves, this North–South divide continued into the first half of the twelfth century. This was manifest in the southern region's advantage in producing more jinshi. In contrast, the highest-level official positions were dominated by the northerners with former Liao connections.Footnote 18 Only after the second half of the twelfth century did such a divide become less pronounced. The discussion in the next section demonstrates that more traces of the shi can be located in the Hedong area, where Han Chinese culture revived and flourished under Jurchen rule.
Burial Inscriptions and the Social Elites Who Used Them
To search for traces of the shi, we begin with tombs that contain writings, especially burial inscriptions. In addition to epitaphs, which scholars widely consult when discussing the upper classes, this study also includes land deeds and burial notes (zangji 葬記). Epitaphs and land deeds usually have a tangible material existence, with lengthy textual content engraved or written on a piece of stone or brick. In contrast, burial notes often lack corporeal form, with brief contents carved on coffins or written directly with ink on the walls. Although different in nature, textual length, and material form, these inscriptions shared the same purpose of marking burials, therefore, all including a burial date and the deceased's personal or familial information. Because most burial inscriptions have been found in more elaborate tombs, they also marked the upper stratum of society, in which the shi were most likely embedded.
Out of more than 600 unearthed Jin tombs, only a small fraction contain burial inscriptions: those with epitaphs account for forty, land deeds for thirty-six, and burial notes for thirty-three, as shown in Table 1. Tables 3 and 4 show the temporal and geographical distribution of the three types of burial inscriptions. The numbers in the temporal distribution (Table 3) are too low for statistical analysis. Still, they offer a rough sketch of the development, showing the gradual rise of burial notes against the decline of epitaphs, which traditionally comprised most burial inscriptions. Juxtaposing the numbers across the Liao, Northern Song, and Jin in Table 1, along with the numbers of North China calculated separately for the Northern Song, makes this trend even more remarkable. Both Liao and Northern Song have only limited tombs bearing burial notes, under 3 percent, whereas the number increases to above 5 percent in the Jin. It is also noticeable that all the Northern Song tombs bearing burial notes come from the North, suggesting that using burial notes was a northern practice. This North–South divide continued into the Jin and Southern Song: burial notes became increasingly popular in Shanxi, Henan, and Shaanxi (Table 4), whereas no burial notes were found in the Southern Song.
The following sections investigate the three types of burial inscriptions from the Jin dynasty. Used by social elites of different backgrounds, some burial inscriptions contain more direct information about the shi, while others only allude to them with circumstantial evidence. In the latter case, considering other aspects of tombs, such as murals and burial goods, is necessary for a more holistic assessment.
Epitaphs
Among the three types of burial inscriptions, epitaphs held the highest place in the social hierarchy. They functioned as status symbols for officials, governed by sumptuary laws that permitted only those above certain ranks to have formal epitaphs.Footnote 19 Most epitaphs belonged to officials; however, some affluent local elites also imitated officials and included epitaphs in their tombs. These epitaphs were generally shorter and of more moderate size. During the Jin, the use of epitaphs dramatically declined. Most of them have been found in modern-day Hebei, the political center housing the Central Capital (Tables 1 and 4).
Among officials’ epitaphs, those unearthed from the family cemetery of Lü Siyan 呂嗣延 (1062–1126) from Lugu 魯谷, Shandong, emphasize Confucian learning the most.Footnote 20 They portray the family as champions of Confucian learning, producing successful jinshi throughout the generations from the Liao to Jin. Their tombs, all second burials with limited size and burial goods, indicate their adoption of cremation. This custom was considered Buddhist in origin and thus often harshly criticized by Neo-Confucian scholars of the Northern and Southern Song for its deviation from the orthodox classical practices.Footnote 21 Nonetheless, judging from the epitaphs, the Lü family is the most distinguished Confucian scholar-official family among unearthed Jin tombs.
Most officials’ epitaphs focus on the deceased official's achievements without paying much attention to their literary talents or classical knowledge, giving the impression of a professional bureaucracy.Footnote 22 However, these literati qualities are stressed in the epitaphs of several men with low-ranking official titles.Footnote 23 Noticeably, some of these titles were only honorary ones obtained in alternative ways without real official duties. Therefore, it is more appropriate to count these men as shi, instead of scholar-officials. They include Lü Gong 呂恭 (died between 1161–1167) from Beijing and Jiao Gui 焦珪 (1094–1177) from Jiaozuo 焦作, Henan. Lü's epitaph lists the title of his collected writings, Jinshan ji 荊山集, as a testimony to his literary accomplishments.Footnote 24 Lü never held a jinshi degree. Instead, he obtained the honorary title after reacting to the government's call to open his granary during a famine. Lü's affiliation with the shi is further confirmed by a ceramic inkstone found in his grave chamber, bearing three engraved characters, 古瓦硯 (guwayan), denoting it as either an antique or a replica made after an ancient object. Jiao Gui, who also lacked a jinshi degree, served as a professor in the local school. At the age of seventy he was bestowed a low-ranking military title due to the government's policy of demonstrating benevolence toward the elderly.Footnote 25 Jiao's epitaph portrays him as a successful local Confucian scholar, attracting tens and hundreds of students from near and far. It highlights his particular expertise in the Zhouli 周禮 (The Rites of the Zhou) and the Shangshu 尚書 (The Book of Documents).
Sometimes, officials holding military ranks, often obtained through yin protection, are praised for their literary predilections in the epitaphs.Footnote 26 A certain Zhang 張, originating from a military family in modern Beijing and holding a fifth-rank military title xuanwu jiangjun 宣武將軍, is recorded to have excelled at calligraphy, to have possessed every skill that scholar-officials professed, and to have often met friends in literary gatherings.Footnote 27 The epitaph also reports with regret that Zhang had the inclination to learn, but circumstances prevented him from doing so. Although somewhat worn, the fluent calligraphy of the epitaph in running script indicates a skilled hand behind the writing and corroborates the epitaph's portrayal of the tomb owner's literati image. Whether men like Zhang would be viewed as shi by their contemporaries is unclear, but he or his family certainly wished him to be regarded this way.
Epitaphs of non-official local elites also contain information about the shi. The fact that affluent families chose to include epitaphs in their resting places indicates their inclination to distinguish themselves from other local families in a literary manner. The tombs of Wu Gui 武珪 (1104–1169) and Guo Yongjian 郭永堅 (1123–1176) from Shanxi are such examples.Footnote 28 Guo's epitaph records that his father and grandfather occupied themselves with Confucian study but without success. Guo did not follow this path, but his son did and acquired jinshi candidacy. As for Wu Gui, his epitaph, written by his jinshi nephew, is beautifully calligraphed and carved (Figure 1). It portrays him as a successful manager, possibly a landlord or merchant, who became immensely wealthy under the Jin rule and then decided to hire scholars to educate his sons for the examinations. The murals in Wu's tomb are also remarkable. Of unusually high quality, they are clearly related to the court paintings of the Northern Song in terms of style and motifs, including a hermit in the landscape and the bird-and-flower.Footnote 29 These paintings betray a refined taste unseen in other local elites’ tombs. It is hard to know whose taste these murals presented, but they certainly aimed to show the family's cultural capital.
Local elites like Wu and Guo were not shi, but they recognized the value of Confucian study and the potential for officialdom that came with it. They supported family members in pursuing Confucian learning, eventually elevating the family's social status after the younger generation successfully obtained the jinshi degree or candidacy. The elevated family status and connections with the literati must have accounted for their burial with a nicely crafted, decent epitaph.
In addition to the textual content of epitaphs providing information about the shi, the paratext also offers some clues. First and foremost, composing and calligraphing epitaphs would involve literati, who were often socially connected to the deceased or their families. Their names and titles are generally listed as the front matter preceding the deceased's biography, and we often encounter the xianggong jinshi 鄉貢進士 as composers or calligraphers.Footnote 30 The xianggong jinshi was an honorary title referring to a jinshi candidate who obtained qualifications for attending the exam in the Capital through prefectural officials’ recommendations but failed the exam.Footnote 31 These failed jinshi candidates were certainly shi. They appeared to be active in Liao and Jin society, writing epitaphs for social elites, both officials and non-officials. However, they rarely used epitaphs, as none of the unearthed epitaphs belong to them.Footnote 32
In a few rare cases, the calligraphy on the epitaphs demonstrates the writers’ extraordinary writing ability, suggesting their potential literati affiliation, as seen in the epitaphs of Chen Liang 陳諒 (1083–1139) from Qingyang 慶陽, Gansu, and Yu Yin 虞寅 (1115–1197) from Gaotang 高唐, Shandong.Footnote 33 Both epitaphs feature headings remarkably written in unusual ancient script, or guwen 古文, rather than standard seal script found on most covers or title spaces of epitaphs at the time (Figure 2).Footnote 34 The owners of these epitaphs were both military men active during the Song-Jin transition: Chen Liang was a Northern Song general who surrendered to the Jin and died in a war between the Jin and Xi Xia, while Yu Yin distinguished himself on the battlefield during the last years of the Northern Song but switched sides to serve the new regime with great success. Both writers of their epitaphs held low-ranking military titles: Li Fu 李扶, who wrote Chen's epitaph, held the title of “chengxin lang 承信郎” and served in a military camp, while Geng Kuanfu 耿寬夫, who wrote Yu's epitaph, held the title of dunwu jiaowei 敦武校尉 and worked in a regional wine bureau. Their ability to write in arcane, unusual script demonstrates their knowledge of ancient words.
Literati had already shown immense interest in ancient words during the Tang. This interest intensified as the jinshi 金石 antiquarian movement flourished during the mid-Northern Song and culminated in the publication of a comprehensive guwen dictionary during Emperor Huizong's reign.Footnote 35 These two rare epitaphs illustrate the enduring impact of the antiquarian movement in North China even after the demise of the Northern Song. Although holding low-ranking military titles (and working under military commanders in Li's case), these two men, equipped with special knowledge of ancient words like their Northern Song predecessors, might have been qualified as shi.
In summary, only two shi have been identified from the epitaphs, both holding honorary titles without real official duties. Nonetheless, indirect information about the shi can be found. Sometimes, they were mentioned in the epitaphs of their family, friends, and other social relations. In other cases, they were invited to compose or write epitaphs for their social relations, both officials and non-officials, leaving traces in the paratext. Finally, the calligraphy on a few epitaphs further reveals the writers’ unusual literary skills, through which their potential shi affiliation could be inferred.
Land Deeds
Land deeds, or maidi juan 買地券, serve as netherworld contracts for the deceased to prove their legitimate ownership of the grave land in the afterlife.Footnote 36 The practice of burying land deeds originated from the Central Plains during the Eastern Han period (25–220) and is still preserved in China and Taiwan today.Footnote 37 More than 300 Liao, Song, and Jin tombs with land deeds buried inside have been collected for my research (Table 1). Comparing the number of all Northern Song tombs yielding land deeds with that of only the tombs in the North shows the South's predominance in the use of land deeds. This regional divide continued into the Jin and Southern Song. Land deeds of the Jin mostly originated from Shanxi (Table 4), while those of the Northern and Southern Song were concentrated in the Daoist centers of Sichuan and Jiangxi.Footnote 38
A series of rites is required to make the netherworld contracts efficacious. According to the Dili xinshu 地理新書 (New Book of Earth Patterns), which provides a template land deed for consultation, the weeds of the burial ground must first be cleared before the land deeds can be interred—one in the center of the burial ground and the other inside the grave.Footnote 39 Conducted by professional geomancers, these rites aim to drive away wondering spirits, pacify the deceased, and guarantee descendants a prosperous future. Therefore, the decision to bury land deeds also reflects the user's religious belief. It is remarkable that the Khitan and Jurchen nobilities, who had different belief systems from the Han Chinese, typically did not adopt land deeds in their tombs.Footnote 40 An ethnic divide existed in the use of land deeds.
Scholars agree that users of Song land deeds were primarily social elites, consisting of both officials and non-officials, with the latter being the majority.Footnote 41 This observation is mainly true for the Jin. Remarkably, epitaphs and land deeds have not been found together in Jin tombs (though such cases exist in Northern and Southern Song tombs), suggesting a distinction might have existed between the use of epitaphs and land deeds.
Only 3 out of 36 land deeds bear the official titles of the dead.Footnote 42 The individual who held the highest rank is Li Jurou 李居柔 (d. 1226), a third-rank civil official.Footnote 43 Li's tomb, found intact in Xi'an, Shaanxi, yielded an inkstone with what may be Li's style name, yizhai 頤齋, engraved underneath in seal script (Figure 3). The practice of burying writing implements with personal inscriptions in tombs seems to have emerged alongside the formation of the literati class during the Northern Song, as evidenced by examples found in a renowned scholar-official cemetery in Lantian, Shaanxi.Footnote 44 Moreover, some Song inkstones were engraved with their literati owners’ epitaphs on the surface, seemingly becoming a personification of their owner.Footnote 45 Echoing this trend, this inscribed inkstone that accompanied scholar-official Li to the netherworld might have stood for his accomplishments as a literatus.
The only tomb with land deeds that bears clear traces of the shi was found in Datong 大同, Shanxi. The red writing on the brick land deed is illegible, but a piece of silk banner covering the coffin, with characters in white pigment, provides the tomb owner's identity. While the name has faded away, the epithet chushi 處士, meaning recluse scholar, discloses his shi identity. Covering the coffin with a silk banner was unusual in Liao, Song, and Jin tombs. However, it corroborates records in the Yili 儀禮 (The Book of Etiquette), the classic believed to have documented rites of the shi stratum in antiquity, from which Northern-Song scholar Sima Guang 司馬光 (1019–1086) derived his simplified version of the rites in the Shuyi 書儀 (Family Rites). This silk banner, called mingjing 銘旌 or inscription banner, presents the deceased's name and title during the funeral. Sima Guang provides a sample wording and stipulates its placement, all of which is closely followed in the Datong tomb.Footnote 46 The burial of this Confucian silk banner clearly showcases the deceased's shi identity.
Another way to identify the deceased's social status is by investigating the murals. During the Northern Song and Jin periods, tomb portraits depicting the deceased couple seated at a table facing each other became extremely popular among local elites in North China. This development might be related to the prevalence of the yingtang 影堂, or image hall, for ancestral worship since the late Northern Song.Footnote 47 Despite Sima Guang's harsh criticism of the use of portraits in funerals, tomb portraits were becoming increasingly popular in North China.Footnote 48 Because such portraits of the deceased almost never appeared in tombs with epitaphs belonging to scholar-officials, scholars agree that this practice attracted mostly non-literati elite users. Jeehee Hong further argues that tomb portraits served as a means for affluent local families to display their elite identity.Footnote 49
Among the thirty-six tombs with land deeds, at least twelve out of thirty-one tombs with legible mural paintings bear tomb portraits. These tomb portraits did not appear alone but were often surrounded by scenes of banquets and theater. Offered by pious sons and grandsons for the ancestors’ otherworldly felicity, these scenes help create a tableau as if the deceased couple was immersed in various domestic comforts in their underground adobe.Footnote 50 Regarding the function and meaning of these domestic scenes, some scholars relate them to certain funerary rituals, while others view them as ideal representations of familial prosperity.Footnote 51 Both the tomb portraits and the accompanying domestic scenes would signify the tomb owners’ non-literati elite status.
These popular motifs might have stood as an antithesis of the shi identity, as indicated in a tomb belonging to a ninth-rank military official, Chen Qing 陳慶 (1097–1157), and his wife in Datong, Shanxi.Footnote 52 It is noteworthy that Chen's epitaph openly describes him as “from childhood to adulthood, he did not care to learn reading and writing.” Nonetheless, an epitaph was prepared for him, perhaps to conform to Chen's official status. The tomb lacks the couple's portraits, but scenes of banquets and musical entertainment adorn the walls. These visual representations of domestic comforts would have exhibited Chen's identity as a non-literati elite.
Amid the popularity of tomb portraits and scenes depicting domestic comforts, the tomb of Meng Xuan 孟選 and his wife, dated 1228 from Jinzhong 晉中, Shanxi, stands out.Footnote 53 The tomb chamber is named youzhai 幽齋, or serene adobe, and is adorned with two calligraphic works, painted as two mounted hanging scrolls hung on opposite walls (Figure 4). Both derive their contents from poems of the Tang, one by the renowned Du Fu 杜甫 (712–770) and the other by an unknown poet. These poems might have been popular literature of the time.Footnote 54 Including calligraphic works of poems in one's resting place signifies a literary taste of the deceased or their family. Meng's tomb is not exceptional; a few other tombs in North China also feature calligraphy on the walls. The following sections will examine these literary expressions and their relationship with the shi.
Burial Notes
Burial notes, often bearing the term zangji, typically record only the burial date and the individual(s) who dedicated the burial, usually the son(s). The dedicator seems to matter more than the dedicatee because the deceased's name is often omitted. Some burial notes were written with ink on the walls or carved on the exteriors of stone or pottery coffins without a material form. Others were engraved on a piece of brick or stone, like epitaphs or land deeds. A few Northern Song examples even bore the term muzhi 墓誌 in the heading, but they were often fashioned in a perfunctory manner.Footnote 55 Burial notes were already used in North China during the Liao and Northern Song and became even more prevalent during the Jin, particularly in southern Shanxi (see Tables 3 and 4), but they were largely unseen in the South.
The diversity of their material forms suggests that they were used by people from various backgrounds. Buddhist monks who practiced cremation were prominent users. On the exteriors of their ossuaries or burial caskets, often interred in groups, the monk's name and burial date were engraved for identification.Footnote 56 Another group of users consisted of local non-literati elites who preferred elaborate tombs. These tombs typically lacked epitaphs, sometimes contained land deeds, and often featured burial notes written on the walls. Some burial notes were lengthy, especially for second burials where many ancestors’ remains were collected and reburied in a newly-built tomb chamber. In such cases, the names of the ancestors and those of the pious sons, grandsons, and wives were all listed.Footnote 57 Some of these tombs featured tomb portraits. A few extraordinary cases even depicted images of the entire family, both living and dead, identified by captions of their names. This gives viewers the impression of a very prosperous extended family, as exemplified by the murals in the Yan 閻 family tomb in Qinyuan 沁源, Shanxi (Figure 5).Footnote 58
Only three out of thirty-three users of burial notes held official titles, exemplified by the Ding 丁 family, whose graveyard was discovered in Zhoukou 周口, Henan.Footnote 59 According to the burial note from M2, dated 1180, one of the sons held a fifth-rank military title, the highest among users of the burial notes discovered so far. His elevated status is evident in the craftsmanship of the burial note, neatly written and carved on a small stone stele with floral patterns decorating the borders, and the stone animals and figures standing in the cemetery, which are still visible today. The other two official users of the burial notes, one found in Gansu, dated 1175, and the other in Shanxi, dated 1189, held only low-ranking titles.Footnote 60
At first sight, most tombs with burial notes may not appear to contain immediate information about the shi. However, closer scrutiny of the materials suggests that some tombs with extraordinary literary expressions might provide indirect information about the shi. The tomb of Née Zhang 張, who died in 1182 and was reburied in 1200 in Houma 侯馬, Shanxi, is such an example.Footnote 61 The lengthy ink-written burial note emphasizes the considerable wealth accumulated by Zhang's husband, making clear the family's status as local economic elites. What is astonishing is that the interiors of Zhang's tomb were filled with blocks of ink writings without any pictorial images. In addition to the burial note, the contents included poems and lyrics of dramatic songs, known as quci 曲辭 (Figure 6).Footnote 62 These writings, depicted as freestanding screens, are remarkable because they consist of legible words left by someone who could read and write, rather than the illegible tracings done by painters commonly seen in Northern Song tombs.Footnote 63 We do not know whether Née Zhang's family was literate. Nonetheless, these writings demonstrate the family's love for popular drama and their preference for literary expression over the pictorial representations popular among their contemporaries. Including legible writings in the tomb would have allowed them to distinguish themselves from other local elites.
Literary Expression and its Association with the Shi
Née Zhang's tomb is intriguing because only ink writings adorned the walls. Other similar tombs often integrated writings of popular literature into pictorial representations. Ink writings of poems, prose poems (ci 詞), or lyrics of dramatic songs were often depicted as calligraphic works mounted as hanging scrolls on the walls or as freestanding screens behind the seated deceased couple. As many of these tombs lack inscriptions but bear portraits of the deceased, most of their owners must have been non-literati elites like Née Zhang. Such literary expressions were rare. They appeared in only around ten tombs, mostly from southern Shanxi.Footnote 64 As Wu Hung has pointed out, ancient Chinese screens often served as a means to express the inner self of the protagonist before them.Footnote 65 Viewed in this light, these rare cases of painted calligraphic screens or hanging scrolls of popular literature might have allowed the deceased or their family to articulate a self-image that emphasized their literary appreciation, thus showcasing their cultural capital.
Literary expression also appeared in the tomb of the shi, as evidenced by the tomb of Zhang Lun 張倫 from Zhidan 志丹, Shaanxi. The excavation report has not been published, so the discussion here is necessarily based on the incomplete information released online.Footnote 66 An undated gravestone has been discovered, which refers to Zhang as xiucai 秀才, a polite term for literati without a jinshi degree. According to the available information, aside from auspicious animals and flowers popular in Jin tombs, the tomb was also decorated with scenes of music-making and dancing, probably representing local festivals.Footnote 67 Additionally, passages from Tang and Song poems were found written in ink on the walls. Both the pictorial representations and ink writings of popular literature discovered in Zhang's tomb are reminiscent of those found in tombs traditionally categorized as belonging to non-literati elites. Without the gravestone, it would be difficult to ascertain the owner's shi affiliation. This conflation suggests that the line between the tomb of the shi and that of other elites at the local level could be ambiguous and hard to demarcate.
Long paragraphs of ink writings can also be found in filial piety motifs from southern Shanxi. While some of these tombs contained burial inscriptions of one form or another, many did not. The pious sons could be represented in mural paintings, stamped bricks in bas-relief, or three-dimensional sculptures. Captions written in ink were often added to identify the represented subjects. In some exceptional cases, blocks of lengthy texts were copied next to the images, such as the tomb from Weicun 魏村, Changzhi 長治, dating back to 1151 based on the inscription left by the artisans who built the tomb.Footnote 68 One of the written texts even lists the Xihan shu 西漢書 (History of the Western Han) as the reference (Figure 7). That particular passage, however, is not found in the extant version of the Hanshu 漢書 (History of the Han). An abridged version of the same texts has been found in a nearby tomb, suggesting that these written texts shared a common source, most likely a printed popular book.Footnote 69 Interestingly, the specific combination of the twenty-four stories found in the tombs in southern Shanxi differs from all extant versions of such stories in China. However, it matches a fourteenth-century Koryo edition. Clearly, once popular in North China, the text was eventually lost in its homeland but found its way to Korea, where it has been preserved.Footnote 70
The arrangement of the texts and images in the Weicun tomb also reveals the influence of printed illustrated books. Throughout the upper register of the entire burial chamber, units of texts and images alternate in a manner reminiscent of the format found in popular illustrated books of the time. These woodblock-printed books often feature rotating images and texts, positioned either with one on top and the other at the bottom or with one on the right and the other on the left.Footnote 71 Moreover, a title written in larger characters, “Inscriptions to pictures of the twenty-four filial piety stories” (huaxiang ershisi xiao ming 畫相二十四孝銘), precedes the register on the southern wall. This line is reminiscent of the title page of a printed book. A “postscript” comprising the artisans’ names and the completion date concludes the entire register on the northern wall. These visual traits suggest that the creators might have been inspired by popular illustrated printed books, borrowing both the layout of the representation and the textual contents.Footnote 72
The Jin witnessed a significant rise in legible ink writings in tombs. Some were depicted as calligraphic works mounted as hanging scrolls and freestanding screens, while others were represented as alternating texts and images akin to popular illustrated books. These literary expressions signal the tomb owners’ preference for “genuine” writings over “imitated” ones and the elevation of the creator's literary level. The increasing literary expression in Jin tombs suggests two possible scenarios. First, the artisans’ literary abilities were significantly enhanced during the Jin, enabling them to quote famous works and write them down. Second, it is possible that some local shi were involved in this endeavor. I have previously discussed the first scenario, attributing the elevated level of literary expression in Jin tombs to the skilled artists fleeing from the former capital, Kaifeng, after the fall of the Northern Song.Footnote 73 Here, I will address the second scenario.
The splendid brick-chambered tombs in southern Shanxi attest to a prosperous tomb construction industry during the Jin. They involved artisans excelling at brickwork, carving, painting, and sometimes writing. These skilled artists, often self-addressed as masters (boshi 博士), sometimes left their “trademarks” at the doorways of the tombs, typically consisting of a line including the construction date and a list of their names.Footnote 74 Sometimes, a few words of self-promotion were added.Footnote 75 In one rare case, the artist even painted his bust portrait on one side of the doorway.Footnote 76 These examples suggest a flourishing tomb construction business, with skilled artists, optimistic and self-confident, appearing to enjoy elevated social status. In light of these new developments during the Jin, could any local shi be involved in the tomb business?
The exceptional tomb of the Yan family in Qinyuan, Shanxi, dated 1168, which has been discussed previously, provides crucial evidence.Footnote 77 The mural paintings of tomb portraits, banquets, and domestic working scenes would suggest the tomb owners’ non-literati identity. Panels of four colorful bird and flower paintings, arranged in two sets, decorate the burial chamber's upper section. One carries a short colophon on the top left corner, making it reminiscent of a piece of portable artwork (Figure 8). The colophon was written by a certain Mi 米 from Taiyuan 太原, who lived in the village when creating this work. Intriguingly, he addressed himself as moru 末儒. Unseen in other tombs, this unusual term suggests his self-identification as a Confucian. At the same time, the modifier “mo”—generally meaning being late or the last—seems to convey his humbleness, a usage similar to the term moxue 末學, the late learner. Whether Mi also painted the bird and flower paintings is unclear; nonetheless, this Confucian student was involved in the mural panel adorning the local elite's tomb.
The rare case of Mi suggests that when faced with trying circumstances, some shi turned to the tomb business, offering their literary abilities and calligraphic skills. At first glance, the involvement of shi in the tomb business may seem far-fetched. However, shi had always possessed knowledge of divination and geomancy, partly derived from their study of the Yijing 易經 (Classic of Change), and many practiced such prognostic skills personally.Footnote 78 Geomancy and divination were required in the tomb business, knowledge that many shi would have possessed. As early as the Northern Song, some Confucian scholars formed personal relationships with geomancers and studied burial treatises.Footnote 79 The influential geomantic book during the Jin, the Dili xinshu, was compiled by a scholar-official, Wang Zhu 王洙 (997–1057), during the Northern Song under government command. Under such circumstances, it is reasonable to assume that the flourishing tomb business would have presented opportunities for some shi, which, in turn, contributed to the advanced literary expression seen in Jin tombs.
Ambiguous Line between the Shi and Other Elites
The preceding discussion has primarily centered on tombs with burial inscriptions and ink writings, where the shi, known for their literary abilities, were most likely involved. However, an important question remains: are there traces of the shi in the tombs that lack the above-mentioned burial inscriptions or any form of writing? Two groups of tombs shed light on this question.
The first example is perhaps among the most elaborately furnished brick-chambered tombs in North China during the Jin: those of the Duan 段 family in Jishan 稷山, Shanxi.Footnote 80 These lavishly adorned tombs shared motifs with those traditionally categorized as belonging to non-literati local elites, including tomb portraits, theatrical scenes, and depictions of filial piety stories in high-relief carvings and three-dimensional sculptures. An epitaph-like burial inscription belonging to Duan Ji 段楫 (b. 1118) discovered in the cemetery informs us that Duan prepared his resting place and inscription in 1181 while still alive (Figure 9). Its less polished content and coarse calligraphy suggest Duan's status as belonging to the non-literati elite. According to a brick inscription recently published, he may have been a doctor.Footnote 81 Interestingly, in his study of the Jin dynasty shi, Tomoyasu Iiyama identified a renowned literati family in Jishan with the same surname, Duan, from steles recorded in local gazetteers.Footnote 82 Simultaneously active in the same village, the two Duan families must have been related but engaged in different business. The aboveground steles, erected later by the more illustrious branch and documented in local gazetteers, champion their socio-political status, while the elaborateness of the underground burials exhibits their wealth and local elite status. It is unclear how distinct the demarcation was between these different branches. Could any of the tombs belong to the more literate branch? The answer may be yes, but we will probably never find definitive evidence.
The tomb dated 1189 in Ganquan 甘泉, Shaanxi, presents another fascinating case that blurs the distinction between shi and non-shi in local society.Footnote 83 Although plundering has left nothing behind except for extraordinary murals, these paintings offer valuable insights. They depict cultured women engaging in the four arts of literati cultivation: zither playing, chess, painting viewing, and writing (Figure 10). These extraordinary paintings, depicting women as the protagonists rather than men, are perhaps the earliest surviving paintings of the four-arts motif. Three women are depicted in each activity, with consistent hairstyles and dress throughout, suggesting a recurrent theme or portrayal of the same individuals. The tomb owner may have been included in the scenes, as three of the four activities are depicted on the northern wall, typically reserved for portraits of the deceased. Additionally, two landscape paintings in the Northern Song style adorn the western and southern walls: one showing a traveler on a donkey moving toward a hut, and the other portraying misty mountains with trees on the top. The landscape paintings and depictions of cultured women do not form obvious tableaus serving the deceased; instead, they stand as independent works of art. According to the excavation report, these paintings were rendered on separate brick panels and then inserted into the walls.Footnote 84 With motifs rarely seen in other contemporary tombs and of higher quality, they seem to indicate the refined taste of the patron(s). No popular motifs such as tomb portraits, filial piety stories, banquets, and theatrical scenes appear in the burial, further suggesting an alienation from the fashion of non-literati elites. Would this tomb belong to a local shi or a non-literati elite with cultural capital?
Judging solely from these mural paintings, one would be inclined to attribute the tomb to a shi or a family of the shi. However, murals from two nearby tombs, which archaeologists believe came from the same family based on the tomb structure and the painting style of the murals, complicate the attribution. Although similar landscape paintings are depicted in them, popular motifs typically found in non-literati elites’ tombs also appear on the walls, including portraits of deceased couples, banquet scenes, and filial piety stories. The hybridity of the Ganquan tombs defies a simple, clear-cut attribution between the shi and non-shi, perhaps reflecting the extent to which they intermingled in local society and within families during the Jin.
Conclusion
On an embassy mission to the Jin, Southern Song scholar-official Lou Yao 樓鑰 (1137–1213) was surprised to see a juren 舉人—candidate who passed the prefectural exam—wearing the same clothes as clerks. This suggests that juren were supposed to wear distinct garments from other social groups in the South.Footnote 85 This seemingly trivial detail implies that the shi of Jin were mixed with other social groups, not just in everyday attire but also in their final resting places, as this study shows. They appear to be woven more tightly into the fabric of local society.
To search for traces of the shi in unearthed tombs, this study began with those containing burial inscriptions where the shi are most likely to be located, including epitaphs, land deeds, and burial notes. It then expanded the investigation to tombs with literary expressions, mainly those bearing ink writings of popular literature. Although mostly belonging to non-literati local elites, one of these tombs was owned by a local shi. Moreover, crucial evidence of the shi's involvement in adorning the tomb with their literary abilities has been identified in an unusual tomb. These discoveries show the shi mingling with other elites at the local level, providing services such as composing epitaphs and writing calligraphy for tombs, thus blurring the demarcation between them. Finally, my exploration extended to the gray-zone tombs, where the hybridity of the mural motifs and painting styles makes it difficult to determine whether the tomb belonged to a shi or a non-literati elite with cultural capital. This, again, attests to the intermingling between them at the local level.
Four tombs belonging to the shi have been identified based on the records in epitaphs and other burial inscriptions. Among them, two held honorary titles and were buried with epitaphs, perhaps as status symbols. Both are praised in the epitaph for their Confucian learning and literary accomplishments. The other two shi, without official titles, were buried with simple burial inscriptions: one addressed as xiucai on his gravestone and the other as chushi on the silk banner covering his coffin. Each of these sporadically distributed tombs has its own characteristics, without sharing common traits or forming a distinct group.
Information about the shi can also be discerned in the paratext and calligraphy of epitaphs. The paratext, particularly the front matter that lists the names of the composer and writer, shows the involvement of the failed jinshi candidates in composing and writing epitaphs for both officials and non-officials. Furthermore, the unusual antiquarian calligraphy style on a few epitaphs indicates the writers’ shi cultivation despite their holding official titles in the military track. Identifying shi in Jin tombs is challenging, even when considering the murals and burial goods. Information about them is often scant and ambiguous.
The investigation suggests that the shi did not constitute a distinct group in the tombs as they did in transmitted texts or in tombs of the Southern Song. The shi of the Jin appeared to be more deeply embedded in local society. If the existence of empire-wide communication networks facilitated the shi to form a distinct collective identity in the Southern Song—despite the much-debated “local turn,” then the indistinctiveness of the shi in the Jin as revealed in this research would suggest a very different story.Footnote 86 Issues regarding the fate of the Chinese literati under Jurchen rule are old. However, expanding source materials to archaeological discoveries allows us to examine the shi's social standing against other local elites, enrich our understanding of their role within the broader society, and raise further questions.
Supplementary Material
For an appendix with the list of the Jin tombs accompanying this paper, visit DOI https://doi.org/10.1017/jch.2024.18.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank Jeehee Hong for reading the manuscript and providing constructive feedback. My thanks also go to Chen Chao-yang and Chen Yunru for sharing their insights on certain points discussed in the article.
Competing interests
The author has received grants from the National Science and Technology Council, Taiwan.
Funding Organization
This research is funded by the National Science and Technology Council, Taiwan (Project number: NSTC 112-2410-H-002-161-MY3)