Pastoral France and England of centuries past had their ha–ha walls𖤓𖤓 but China of the Qing Dynasty had its Willow Palisade (or wall). The willow palisade (Chinese: 柳條邊; pinyin: Liǔtiáo Biān) was a system of ditches and earth embankments planted with willow trees acting as a barrier to passage. The wall, stretching a length of 1,000 miles in a northeastern direction, contained gates (men | bianmen)🅰 with wooden towers, 21 in all, at 50–mile intervals. Some sections of the palisades also had moats or dikes.
Shànhâiguan wall (arrowed in red) (image: ltl-beijing.com)
The start-point of the Willow Palisade was the terminus point of the Great Wall, the Shànhâiguan fortress, from there it wound its way up to the Northeast (Dongbei) region (formerly known as Manchuria) into the modern–day provinces of Liaoning and Jilin, terminating at the Korean border (Yalu River). The palisade consisted of three sections and like the Great Wall of China it was built in stages. The first section (Laobian, “Old Border”), together with the second section, formed the inner palisade across the Liaoning Peninsula. The third (northern) section represented the outer palisade whose purpose was to separate the traditional areas of the Manchus from those of the Mongols.
The palisades as built were intended to be defensive, strategic and restrictive. Most historians and Sinologists see their primary purpose as creating a barrier to keep Chinese immigrants from entering Manchuria. The Manchu Dynasty’s desire to exclude them from the northern territories stems from a fear of its homeland being swamped by the masses of Han Chinese [Elliott, Mark C. “The Limits of Tartary: Manchuria in Imperial and National Geographies.” The Journal of Asian Studies 59, no. 3 (2000): 603–46. https://doi.org/10.2307/2658945.] A restrictive policy was seen as crucial to the preservation of Manchu culture and identity [Bulag, Uradyn E. “Rethinking Borders in Empire and Nation at the Foot of the Willow Palisade.” Frontier Encounters: Knowledge and Practice at the Russian, Chinese and Mongolian Border, edited by Franck Billé et al., 1st ed., Open Book Publishers, 2012, pp. 33–54. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt5vjss5.6. Accessed 21 Mar. 2025.] Robert Lee and Bulag attribute the installation the wall of willows to a strategy to prevent an alliance forming between the Mongols and the Chinese…keeping the two groups apart would negate a potential threat to the ruling Manchu dynasty [Robert Lee, quoted in Bulag].
There were economic reasons to block Chinese migrating to the Northeast. As well as wanting to relocate in the more productive agrarian lands of Manchuria, many Chinese (and some Tartars) sought to poach the region’s rich harvests of ginseng. Sable was another valuable northern resource that the Manchus wanted to keep secure from southern poachers [Kim, Seonmin. “Managing the Borderland.” Ginseng and Borderland: Territorial Boundaries and Political Relations Between Qing China and Choson Korea, 1636-1912, 1st ed., University of California Press, 2017, pp. 77–103. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1525/j.ctt1w8h1p0.11. Accessed 21 Mar. 2025.]
Another intended purpose of the Willow Palisade was to keep trespassers from Korea from venturing west into Qing Dynasty territory. Edmonds however contends that the part of the natural wall in proximity to Korea functioned more as “an internal boundary rather than the demarcation of the China/Korea border” [Richard L. Edmonds, ‘The Willow Palisade’, Annals of the Association of American Geographers, Vol 69, Issue 4, December 1979, pp.599–621].
By the early part of the 18th century the ineffectiveness of the Willow Palisade was apparent. The porous palisade was failing badly in its aim of checking the transgression of Han Chinese immigrants and ginseng poachers into Manchuria which had become by the 1730s a constant flow (Bulag). The prohibition against crossing into the Chinese Pale was in any case not a watertight one, if the circumstance demanded more seasonal labourers for land cultivation or such, it was temporarily rescinded [Michael Meyer, ‘The Lesser Wall’, 06–June–2012, ChinaFile, www.chinafile.com]. Han refugees in the 1780s were imported into Manchuria and Inner Mongolia to farm produce.
Under the Manchus, by the mid–18th century control over the palisades was eroding – soldiers were now only guarding the areas near the gates. Willow Palisade maintenance was being neglected and the tree wall was deteriorating alarmingly with gaps in the willows and trees being cut or pruned for fuel as well, the dikes were wearing away and the palisade had become superfluous as a barrier of any utility. In the 20th century the Willow Palisade disappears from sight and from memory and history altogether. The 1,000–mi long, uncelebrated northern wall does not feature on any modern maps of China or the region. Very little physical evidence is left of the palisade…attempts to retrace the route have tended to rely on drawing the dots between villages in the northern provinces for the nearest approximation of location, the clue being any village name ending in –men (the word for “gate”), eg, Ying’emen (Meyer).
At eye–level the Willow Palisade’s shape resembles the Chinese character representing a “person striding forward” 人 – described as “a wishbone of soil and trees” (Meyer)
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𖤓𖤓 Ha-ha wall: a recessed landscape design element that creates a vertical barrier to entry (particularly on one side) while preserving an uninterrupted view of the landscape beyond from the other, higher side (also known as a sunk fence, blind fence, ditch and fence, deer wall or foss).
A note on the name “Manchuria”:: The oft-used name “Manchuria” is a controversial one in PRC due to its Japanese imperial associations – it derives from the Japanese exonym Manshū (from the name of the local people, the Manchus). The Northeast region of China has alternately but less commonly been referred to as “Tungpei”.
Our ultimate day in Harbin, what to do? My own leaning, on surveying the options, nudged me towards a trip to Unit 731 (AKA Detachment 731), a museum established in a multi-building complex which was used by the Japanese military and scientists to carry out heinous biological experiments on the local population during the Thirties and Forties. My travelling companion’s inclination however was for spending a less sombre and more genteel day at Tai Yang Dao (Sun Island). In the end what swayed it for Sun Island was proximity, it being a short boat distance from Central (Z.Y.) Street, compared to Unit 731 which was located in the city’s back blocks, requiring a long train trip from the centre.
We decided crossing the river by boat would be the optimal way to get to Sun Island. The other but considerably more expensive way to get to Sun Island is by cable car, which certainly provides a bird’s-eye level vantage point during the crossing (you can also get there circuitously by taxi, crossing a series of bridges). There is no charge to visit Sun Island but access to amusements, rides, activities, etc attract a charge.
The water transport to Sun Island departs from the wharves at Sidalin Park
As the ageing journeyman ferry chugs across the water we take videos of the approaching island and the cable cars being pulled back and forth. I remind myself that in just a few months time this trip won’t be possible…the clear aqua-turquoise surface of the river will become solid frozen with the onset of Harbin’s winter. Amusingly, we pass a line of swimmers in single file. These, older men mainly, are slowly swimming, or more accurately half swimming, half dog-paddling, their way from an island to the mainland. Each of them is carrying a rucksack of belongings attached to them by rope like an umbilical cord
As the boat approaches the island wharf, one or two landmarks catch the eye from the river. The first, from a distance looks like a light-hearted sculpture of a very large white swan or is it a goose? When we got to the wharf we realised it wasn’t a pop culture artwork, but the comical masthead on a pleasure vessel for visitors (and especially children) to ride on.
The second, much more visible landmark getting the attention of the boat passengers looks like a historic European castle rising up out the treetops, something you might find on the Danube – in Budapest for instance. Once ashore, on closer inspection, it’s historical pedigree is found wanting. It is of more origin and seems to be inspired by the logo figurehead castle you see at Disneyland! The ‘castle’ turns out to be the central administrative and amenities building for the island’s commercial operations. 
Getting around the island by foot is possible but it covers a large expanse of land and the attractions are quite spread out. So from the wharf we decided to use the “people mover” or the mini-bus to get-about (¥20 each). This made logistical sense but our experience was that it proved a very poor service provider. I was expecting it to operate as a flexible “hop-on, hop-off” arrangement (a lá the Big Red Bus in capital cities globally), but we were not able to hail down one of the many vehicles continually circling the park (every though we had purchased tickets). Each time we tried the bus driver refused to stop for us even when the vehicle was virtually empty (great PR Sun Island!). Apparently our ticket permitted us to use certain passenger service vehicles only (not explained at point of sale). 
That said, the island park did not lack for attractions and points of interest. The various, quaint bridges around the ponds makes for nice “eye-candy”. A Russian-style village garden added to the theme park feel of Sun Island. The section containing the waterfalls and accompanying rock caves were a real highlight for photography mani
Many of the island fixtures are well worth a close-up inspection. The mega-scale, modernist monument (a combination of white ovals and arches) near the Greenway is an interesting feature in itself. Another white structure with two storey viewing towers of the water is similar appealing in its design. I was also taken by the supersized “organic sculpture” that we stumbled upon. This creation was another popular point for visitors to mill round and snap endless selfies. The mainly green and red bird (of paradise?)◙ is entirely a floral construction in the familiar style of Jeff Koons (the gigantic floral puppy that once graced Sydney’s Circular Quay, now in Bilbao, Spain). 
And if nature encounters with fauna are your bag, then Sun Island will not disappoint. You can visit a section of the park with fenced off animals of the more gentle kind like deer and caribou. Here for a fee you can pat and feed members of the Cervidae family inside an enclosure. I noticed that with the deer, familiarity brings a singular expectation on their part. Far from being reticent and shy, the creatures can sniff out a food-toting human from 60 feet.
But the one member of the animal kingdom that seems most at home on Tai Yang Dao are small rodents from the Sciuridae clan. The island abounds with the common acorn-addicted squirrel, plentiful on the ground and in the trees. So numerous they are, they have been designated their own section, “Squirrel Lake”, but you don’t need to go here to find them, they inhabit the entire wooded area of Sun Island. While walking around the island, at the back of the Russian model gardens, I spotted a ginger cat in hot pursuit of a squirrel, desperately but hopelessly trying to diminish the fleet-footed Sciuridae population by one.