According to the traditional Chinese conception of the afterlife, each human had two souls. One, the ‘cloud soul’ (hun) went on to ascend to heaven (tian), whereas the other, the ‘white soul’ (po), remained trapped in the realm of the tomb. Being stuck in the tomb, the po needed to be provided for; hungry and dissatisfied spirits ran the risk of breaking out of the tomb and wandering the Earth as revenants. Even worse, some popular Chinese traditions envisaged that the hun and the po could become trapped together, and so double the sustenance and entertainment was needed. To resolve this issue, the early Chinese thought to bury things with the dead that would appease their spirit. In the earliest period, this included live burials (xunzang) of service animals, servants, and even wives. This unpleasant practice was outlawed numerous times in Chinese history, beginning in the Third Century BC, and several times thereafter, but it is known to have continued in some more remote parts of China for centuries after. The last recorded case of a live burial was in AD 1673. For most people, however, xunzang live burials were neither practical nor desirable. Instead, the wealthy were buried with mingqi, ‘spirit goods’. These physical representations, mostly in terracotta, signified things the po might need, so that the real goods need not be buried with them. Of course, mingqi went far beyond the bare necessities. Soldiers, servants, attendants, musicians, foreign traders, houses with partying guests, and foodstuffs were created, such that the po might be satisfied enough not to escape its confines. During the Tang Dynasty (AD 618 – AD 907), this practice reached something of a height, reflecting the remarkable economic and social development of the period. Even middle-ranking officials might be buried with hundreds of mingqi, reflecting a kind of opulence they may never have experienced in life.
Perhaps the most popular subject of mingqi of this and earlier periods were horses.They range in size from small figures to perhaps a metre high, and display a variety of attitudes, including prancing, whinnying, biting their own backs, or standing firmly on the ground. Often, these poses give an indication as to where the figures were made. This hollow terracotta horse is a very fine example of the type. These figures began with a metal skeleton, around which was packed wet clay. The overall figure was then forced into a mould, which would stamp it with the impression of the overall design. Each piece was, however, hand finished by an artisan. As a result, even within a single set of mingqi, each horse is presented with a different expression and a slightly different pose, offering a sense of realism to the entire range of horses. Indeed, the realism was an important part of satisfying the po, who could presumably tell the difference between a badly formed horse and the real thing. This sculpture reflects the kinds of Arab stallions which became available to the Chinese during the Tang Dynasty, replacing the stockier and more compact Central Asian horses. He is depicted as a tall and elegant stallion, of exquisite proportions. His face is expertly modelled, demonstrating that the ultimate creator of the mould from which this sculpture was made, as well as the artisan who finished it off, were clearly close students of horses, who likely studied the handsomest stallions from the imperial stables from life. The cropped mane and tail demonstrate the high class of this horse’s owner, and follow and aesthetic which assimilated horses to dragons in Chinese lore. Standing securely upright, the horse looks over his shoulder as though about to be mounted by his master. His wonderfully realised saddle, which closely follows known types from China, is designed to emphasise the horse’s origin as a luxury exotic import, with a leopard print pattern which would have dazzled the local Chinese.

The horse was always significant in Chinese culture; it represented the pure male energy (yang), and embodied the spirit of the mighty Yellow River. It was especially venerated in Chinese and Tibetan Buddhism, where the baima (white horse) became associated with Kanthaka, the horse companion of the Gautama Buddha. But the Chinese had been somewhat latecomers to the use of the horse, especially when compared to their nomadic neighbours to the north and west. China’s greatest monument, the Great Wall, was largely a bulwark against the incursions from the horse-riding Mongols. While horses were known in China from the Shang Dynasty, it was not until the Tang period that cavalry became a stalwart of the Chinese army. By AD 794, the Imperial herds numbered some 325,700 horses. It was also at this time that elite enjoyment of Arab stallions became most prominent, and sports such as polo were soon played among the elite.