Marco thrilled to the striking of Cambulac’s great “town clock” three times every evening, “so that none may go about the town after it has sounded.” In fact, no one even dared to leave his house “except for the nurses who go for the needs of women in childbirth and physicians who go for the needs of sick men.” And even these caregivers had to bring lanterns with them on their errands of mercy.
Sentries, a thousand of them at every gate, guarded the entire city against the depredations of robbers and marauders. “Besides this,” Marco reports, “the guards always ride through the city by night, by thirty and by forty, searching and inquiring if anyone is going about the city at an unusual hour, that is, after the third sounding of the bell.” The guards immediately arrested and jailed any suspicious person. “In the morning, the officials deputed for this examine him, and if they find him guilty of any offence, they punish him, according to the degree of it, with more or less blows of the rod, by which they sometimes die.” All the while, within his gigantic palace, the khan and his wives, family retainers, and concubines slept in peace, and Marco felt more secure in this strange city than the average citizen did in Venice.
This utopian city planning stood in contrast to Marco’s Venice, where sinuous streets and canals concealed vice and sedition, and where predators hid under bridges and in the shadows of irregular buildings. It is as though Marco were compiling astonishing bulletins from the future for the benefit of his countrymen, mired in the past. The future, he advised, was China.
IN HIS DESIRE to impress Europeans with the grandeur of the Mongol court, Marco told of feasts whose excess far exceeded their European counterparts. “When the Great Khan keeps his table in his hall for any great court and feast and rejoicing that he may wish to hold, he is seated in this way,” Marco explains in three-dimensional detail. “For first the table of the great lord is set before his throne very high above all the others. He sits in the north part of the hall with the shoulders toward the tramontane”—the land beyond the mountains—“so that his face looks toward midday, and his first wife sits beside him on the left side, and on the right side, but at another table which is lower, sit his sons in lordly fashion, and likewise his grandsons, according to their ages, and his kindred and others who are connected by blood,…so low that I tell you their heads come to the feet of the great lord…. And it goes in the same way with the women, that at the feet of the first queen is the table of the other queens and of the younger children of the Great Khan; for all the wives of the sons of the great lord and of his grandsons and of his kindred sit on the left side, namely, of the empress, also more low; and next sit all the wives of the barons and of the knights, and they also sit lower.” The pleasing arrangement means that the “great lord can see all the feasters, and they are always a very great number.”
An incalculable number of revelers participated. At first Marco hesitates to offer an estimate, then he succumbs to temptation: “The greater part of the knights and barons eat in the hall on carpets, because they have not tables. And outside this hall are other halls at the sides; and in these royal banquets there sometimes feed more than forty thousand, besides those who are of the lord’s court, who always come in numbers to sing and to make various sport. And many more times than ten thousand persons eat at the tables that are outside the great hall.” Though sincere, Marco did not expect his readers to believe his figures, but he relished challenging Western ideas of Mongol life.
In the midst of this enormous festive hall stood a “most beautiful structure, large and rich, made in the manner of a square chest.” Decorated with gilded carvings of animals, it contained a “great and valuable vessel in the shape of a great pitcher of fine gold that holds quite as much wine as a common large butt.” It was surrounded by a number of smaller silver vessels containing “good spiced drinks,” including the inevitable fermented mare’s milk, supplemented with camel’s milk.
The honored guests drank from “lacquered bowls” large enough to accommodate the thirst of eight or ten, using golden ladles. Once again Marco leaps ahead of his readers: lacquer was another technology raised to a high level of refinement in Asia, yet it was unknown in the West. Lacquer is, essentially, a sophisticated varnish made from resin extruded by an Asian sumac, Rhus verniciflua, known in China as the varnish tree. When the resin, similar to that of poison ivy, is layered as a thin film, it hardens into a tough skin, but only in the dark; exposed to sunlight, it remains tacky. Although Marco does not appear familiar with how lacquer was produced, he takes care to explain the vessel for Europeans unfamiliar with it: “The ladles are made like a gold cup with a foot and a golden handle, and with that cup they take wine from that great golden lacquer bowl and are able to drink.” He says that there were so many of these “golden bowls” and “other things of great value” that “all those who see them are dumbfounded.”
These exotic feasting customs could be confusing to the many “foreigners” who were guests at the court, so Kublai Khan obligingly assigned several of his barons the task of acquainting visitors with Mongol ways. “These barons go continually here and there through the hall asking those who sit at table if they want anything, and if any there wish for wine, milk, or meat, or anything else, they have it brought to them immediately by the servants.”
Stranger still, those who served the khan food and drink had “their mouths and their noses wrapped in beautiful veils or napkins of silk and of gold, so that neither their breath nor their smell should come into the food and the drink of the great lord.” Musicians, “of which there [were] a vast quantity,” awaited the moment when the khan brought food to his lips, and then they began to perform. At that point, a boy presented a cup of wine to the khan, then walked backward three paces and knelt, whereupon “all the barons and all the other people who are there kneel down and make a sign of great humility; and then the great lord drinks.” Even after all this ritual, feasting commenced only when the knights and barons in attendance brought food to their first wives.
The entertainment offerings were hypnotic. Dressed in iridescent attire, musicians played bewitching melodies on stringed instruments, lulling everyone present into a state of pleasant stupefaction. Mongolian music, so repetitive and insistent, was haunting and beguiling; it numbed the mind even as it awakened the soul with intensely pleasurable, even sexual sounds. The musicians were followed by highly theatrical, spectacularly costumed troupes of jugglers and acrobats, who in turn gave way to itinerant actors reciting poetry and soothsayers spouting whatever they pleased. “And all make great enjoyment and great festivity before the great lord,” Marco comments, “and make much joy of it and laugh at it and enjoy it much.”
MARCO REMINDED his audience that even in the midst of revelry, the Mongol barons observed a strict code of behavior. For example, two “great men like giants,” each holding a rod in his hands, guarded every door to the feasting hall. The forbidding sight reminded everyone present that “no one is allowed to touch the threshold of the door, but he must stretch his foot beyond. And if by accident he touches it”—a mere accident—“the guards take away all his clothes, and then again he must redeem them; and if they do not take his clothes, they give him as many blows as are appointed him.” At least foreigners received a warning about this rule from the barons, who explained that touching the threshold was considered an ill omen. But the Mongols were realistic as well as superstitious; if any man became too drunk during the feasting to cross the threshold as he left the hall without tripping all over it, he was excused.
“And when it is all done, the people leave and each goes back to his lodging and to his house as he pleases.”
KUBLAI KHAN, Marco explains, was born “on the twenty-eighth day of the moon of the month of September,” according to the Mongol calendar. (This date is reckoned as September 23, 1215, in the modern calendar.) At that time, his grandfather, Genghis Khan, was busy laying siege to the city of Cambulac. Later, Kublai’s birthday became the greatest feast of the entire lu
nar year. In preparation for the event, the khan dressed “in the most noble cloth of the purest beaten gold.” In his honor, no less than twelve thousand barons emulated him by also dressing in silk and gold, although their clothes were not so valuable as the Great Khan’s. Marco the merchant could not help but put a price on the festive attire. “Some of these robes,” he calculated, “are worth ten thousand bezants of gold”—especially those with the pearls and gems sewn into them.
These cherished costumes went on display thirteen times a year, “for the solemn feast-days that the Tartars keep with great ceremony according to the thirteen moons of the year.” They bore a total of 156,000 gems, by his estimate. “And when the lord wears any robe those barons and knights are likewise dressed in one of the same color; but those of the lord are of more value and more costly ornament.” With frequent use, the raiment lasted ten years, at the very most. Then the costumes were retired.
INUNDATED with descriptions like these, Western readers assumed that Il Milione was engaging in embellishment to flatter Kublai Khan, or simply weaving fantasies to amuse himself. Yet the annals of the Yüan dynasty confirm the accuracy of Marco’s eyewitness account, including the pearls sewn into the royal garments.
“The headdress and costume are made of fine black silk,” begins the official description of Kublai Khan’s exquisitely detailed wardrobe.
The top part of the headdress or ceremonial bonnet is a flat piece covered with the same cloth, and from which ribbons dangle. The outer garment is azure; it is lined with skin-colored cloth. Four ribbons encircle it with dragons and clouds. The opening of the bonnet or headdress is rimmed all around with a band of fine pearls. In front and behind are twelve pendants also made with twelve strung pearls. Left and right are two knots of raw yellow silk, from which hang tassels bearing earrings in jade and precious stones; strands of raw yellow silk, decorated with pearls, circle all the way to the top of the headdress. Dragons and clouds made of pearls sewn on with silk thread cover its surface. One can also see representations, here and there, of female swallows and small willows, and strings of pearls across the top form the picture of a river. The belt, to the right and left, descends to the floor. Flowers made of embroidered pearls are hidden in its knotted folds, as well as swallows and willows made of pearls. From two silk cords hang—or are fastened—all the pins that hold in place the dangling tassels of the headdress or crown; yellow strands of raw silk are employed to represent swallows and willows sprinkled with pearls. Jade pins are placed crosswise on the headdress or crown…. The under-garment is made of red or scarlet silk; it is cut like a skirt; it is decorated with a variety of embroideries, sixteen in number, arranged in rows; on each row there are two kinds of floating water-plants, one rice-stalk, two embroidered axes, and two Chinese characters. The ordinary garment or dress is of sheer white silk, edged with yellow leather thongs stitched with silk. The garment covering the knees (the upper-boot) is of red silk, and around the legs the red silk is elastic. Its shape is like that of a short skirt, at the top of which is embroidered a dragon with two bodies….
The leggings are made of red silk. The shoes are made of silk with various decorations enriched with gold; they have two pairs of flaps, and are edged with stitching and with pearl ornaments. The stockings are made of fine red silk.
Here was the Kublai Khan whom Marco beheld. No wonder the glorious sight dazzled the impressionable young Venetian.
ON KUBLAI KHAN’S BIRTHDAY, Marco notes, all the “kings and princes and barons who are subject to his jurisdiction” held feasts and bestowed gifts in his honor. Some bearers requested large favors of the khan, such as a domain to rule. Displaying his usual foresight, Kublai appointed a committee to assign domains to worthy petitioners. Marco again stresses that Kublai Khan’s appeal transcended religious and cultural boundaries, especially on this day, when “all people of whatever faith they are, all the idolaters and all the Christians or the Jews and all the Saracens and all the other races of the Tartar people”—here Marco appears to paraphrase a Mongol formula—“who are subject to the rule of the Great Khan must make great petitions and great assemblies and great prayers, each to the idols and to their God with great chants, great lights, and great incense, that he may be pleased to save and protect them.”
For all its detail, Marco’s offhand account only hints at the actual complexity of the Great Khan’s birthday rites. Despite his immersion in the Mongol lifestyle, Marco inevitably missed many subtleties, or they eluded his memory when the time came to describe them to Rustichello. The section of the Mongol annals known as the “General Ceremonial for the Receptions at the Mongolian Court” relates the full story of Kublai Khan’s extraordinary birthday festival.
“When the day of the reception arrives,” reads the official account,
the aides of ceremonies introduce those invited, starting at daybreak, and conduct them to their assigned places. The “Chiefs of the Guards,” all dressed in their special costumes, enter the great “room of rest.” First, they take in their hand their ivory tablets (which each brought on his way to court) and make the prescribed genuflections. Then the “Informers of the Exterior” and the “Stewards of the Interior” enter and communicate the program that prescribes the formalities that must be observed during the ceremony. They bow, prostrating themselves, and rise. The emperor comes out of his interior apartments and gets onto his imperial chariot. Then cries are heard, together with the whips of the guardians. Three aides make the spectators align themselves left and right, and take them by hand to their places. The “Chiefs of the Guards” open the procession, preceded by heralds carrying hatchets, and they go outside of the “Room of the Great Light.” The “Hatchet-Bearers” place themselves in front of the entrance and remain standing there, facing north, directing the crowd to prostrate itself; then they place themselves in the open apartments, east and west. This done, they conduct the crowd, in sections, outside the wall, to wait.
In the official account, Kublai Khan and his first wife, referred to as the emperor and empress, in Chinese fashion, ascend to their rest couch. At that moment, “cries of joy and lashes of whips are heard. Three arms heralds, carrying hatchets, open a passage through the crowd and return to place themselves east of the ‘Steps of the Dew’”—the stairs leading to the palace.
There followed hours of carefully choreographed praying and bowing, led by the designated functionaries. For sheer size and complexity, nothing like this display existed in any European court of Marco’s day, and he was properly awed. The ritual relied heavily on Chinese models, and sentiment among the Mongols accused Kublai Khan of exchanging basic Mongol ways, especially nomadism, for rarefied and very un-Mongol behavior. That was an exaggeration. Although he mastered the outward forms of Chinese court ceremonies with the help of Chinese advisers, who were imbued with tradition, he remained a Mongol at heart, and on the battlefield.
MARCO PERCEIVED the Mongol hierarchy as one based on performance in war rather than behavior within the confines of the court. Kublai Khan, he relates, “has chosen twelve very great and powerful wise men and barons to watch over whatever questions may arise about the armies, that is, to change them from the place where they are and to change the officers, or to send them where they see it is necessary” as well as “to make the distinction of the valiant and manly fighters from those who are mean and abject, promoting them to greater rank, and on the other hand demoting those who are of little use and cowardly.” Accordingly, if a captain of a thousand men behaved badly in action, he was demoted to captain of a hundred, and if he behaved with great valor, he could be promoted to captain of ten thousand.
The twelve barons who made up the Great Court served directly under Kublai Khan. They formed a closely knit band, living together in Cambulac in a palace described by Marco as “large and beautiful and rich.” Each of these barons had “for each province under his rule a judge and many writers or notaries under him, who all stay in this palace each in his house by himself.”
MARCO ESTEEMED the same sense of logic and orderliness in the celebrated Mongol post system, a necessity for administering the diverse empire. “The manner of the messengers of the Great Khan is wonderful,” he exults. Displaying even greater attention to detail than usual, he describes the intricate Mongol operation: “I assure you the messengers ride 200 miles in a day, sometimes even 250. Let me explain how it is done. When a messenger wishes to travel at this speed and cover so many miles a day, he carries a tablet with the sign of the falcon as a token that he wishes to ride posthaste. If there are two riders…, they tighten their belts and swathe their heads, and off they go with all the speed they can muster till they reach the next post-house twenty-five miles away.” On arrival, he says, they change horses, and “without a moment’s breathing space,…off they go again.” It was thunder and lightning on the hoof.
Each road leaving Cambulac was named for the province to which it led. At a distance of twenty-five miles, the messengers reached a “post with horses” as well as a “very great palace…where the messengers and envoys of the great lord may lodge with dignity, and these lodgings have very rich beds furnished with rich silk cloths and have all the things that are right for exalted messengers.” Even a king visiting one of these remote palaces would feel comfortable, Marco claims.
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