Academic Reading — Test 24

Reading passage

In 1974, farmers digging a well in Shaanxi Province in northern China struck fragments of fired clay that would lead to one of the most remarkable archaeological discoveries of the twentieth century. The fragments belonged to the Terracotta Army, a vast collection of life-sized figures buried close to the tomb of Qin Shi Huang, the ruler who unified China and became its first emperor in 221 BC. The army was created to accompany the emperor into the afterlife, reflecting a belief that a monarch would continue to require soldiers, officials and servants after death. Although the tomb mound itself has never been fully excavated, the surrounding pits have yielded an estimated eight thousand warriors, together with horses and wooden chariots, arranged in disciplined military formation. What strikes most visitors is the individuality of the figures. No two faces are exactly alike, and the warriors differ in height, hairstyle, posture and uniform according to their military rank. Generals, for example, stand taller than ordinary infantrymen and wear more elaborate armour. Originally the figures were brightly painted, with traces of red, green, blue and purple pigment surviving on some pieces, although exposure to air after excavation has caused much of this colour to flake away within minutes. Modern conservation methods now aim to stabilise the paint before it is lost. Despite their apparent uniqueness, the figures were not modelled entirely by hand from scratch. Instead, craftsmen assembled them from separately produced parts, such as legs, torsos, arms and heads, which were then joined together and finished with individual details. This modular approach allowed a relatively small workforce to produce thousands of figures with notable efficiency. Alongside the clay warriors, archaeologists have recovered an enormous quantity of weaponry, most of it made of bronze. Swords, spearheads, crossbow triggers and tens of thousands of arrowheads have been found, many of them still remarkably sharp. The chemical composition of these weapons reveals a sophisticated understanding of metallurgy: the bronze was an alloy of copper, tin and small amounts of other elements, and the proportions were carefully adjusted to suit each type of weapon. Blades intended for cutting contained a different mixture from the springs of crossbows, which had to flex without breaking. Some surfaces also carry a thin chromium layer that may have helped to resist corrosion, though scholars continue to debate whether this coating was applied deliberately or formed by accident during manufacture. The scale and consistency of this output point to highly organised workshops operating under state control. Many bronze components, particularly the crossbow triggers, were produced to such precise dimensions that parts from different weapons could be exchanged with one another. This degree of standardisation strongly suggests the use of shared moulds and agreed measurements across separate workshops. A number of items are inscribed with the names of the foremen or workshops responsible for them. These inscriptions were almost certainly a form of quality control, making it possible to trace any defective object back to the person who had made it and to hold that individual accountable. Such a system reflects the centralised, bureaucratic character of the Qin state, which valued order, measurement and discipline. The two sets of bronze chariots discovered near the tomb in 1980 illustrate the technical heights the workshops could reach. Built at roughly half life size, each chariot consists of thousands of individual parts, including delicate chains and windows that slide open. The metalworkers used a range of joining techniques, combining casting with welding and mechanical fastenings, and they decorated the surfaces with gold and silver. Producing objects of such complexity required not only skilled artisans but also a reliable supply of raw materials and a system for coordinating labour on a large scale. The chariots therefore tell us as much about the administration of the Qin empire as they do about its art. Taken as a whole, the Terracotta Army and its associated bronzes provide a unique window onto early imperial China. They demonstrate that the Qin dynasty, though it lasted only about fifteen years, commanded resources and technical knowledge of extraordinary depth. The figures continue to be studied not merely as works of art but as evidence of how a vast project was planned, supplied and managed more than two thousand years ago. Excavation is far from complete, and many archaeologists believe that further discoveries lie waiting beneath the soil of Shaanxi.