This Post in Three Sentences:
Guy Gavriel Kay’s bestselling book “Under Heaven” introduced the concept of the Heavenly Horses to me, but my true fascination was sparked when I delved into their historical roots within the pages of Kenneth W. Harl’s “Empires of the Steppes.” The real life Ferghana Heavenly Horses played an interesting role throughout ancient Chinese history and I detail both the War of Heavenly Horses and the An Lushan Rebellion in the Han and Tang Dynasties. If you are interested in the history behind the Heavenly Horses and how they are interpreted by Guy Gavriel Kay in Under Heaven this post is for you!
The HEavenly Horses on the Page
At the commencement of “Under Heaven,” authored by Guy Gavriel Kay, the son of a deceased Chinese general spends years burying the dead on an ancient battleground, mourning his father’s death. He is bestowed an earth-shaking reward by a foreign princess: 250 prized Sardian Heavenly Horses. Kay adeptly integrates the real-world history of the Ferghana Heavenly Horses that drove many of the Chinese dynasties to envy.
While engrossed in “Empires of the Steppes” by Kenneth W. Harl, I encountered the historical context behind the fictional Sardian Horses depicted in “Under Heaven.”
Trot along with me as we explore the unique characteristics of the Ferghana Heavenly Horses, gallop into the historical significance of the War of the Heavenly Horses in 104 BC, and saddle up for a blend of fiction and fact revolving around Guy Gavriel Kay’s “Under Heaven” and its fictional portrayal of the An Lushan Rebellion 800 years later.
What Were the Heavenly Horses of Ferghana?
The esteemed Heavenly Horses of Ferghana, also known as Ferghana horses or “Heavenly” or “Celestial” horses, were highly revered equines from the Ferghana Valley in Central Asia, encompassing parts of modern-day Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan. These horses were among the most esteemed breeds in the ancient world.
Selenium, a crucial trace mineral vital for animal well-being, notably horses, proved invaluable for the Ferghana breeds. Their access to higher selenium levels in local plant life significantly contributed to their robust health and exceptional abilities, forming the cornerstone for their immune and muscular systems, enhancing endurance and speed.
Although the specific horse breed discussed during the Han dynasty is now extinct, its descendants include the Arab, Akhal-Teke, and modern Kyrgyz horse breeds, considered among the world’s finest. In ancient times, most horse breeds were unsuitable for riding and only usable for chariots in traditional military engagements. The Heavenly Horses, however, possessed speed, strength, and endurance, unmatched by other breeds, establishing an unbeatable heavy cavalry on the battlefield.
the War of Heavenly Horses
Emperor Wu of Han, known as Emperor Wudi, reigned over China during the Han Dynasty from 141 BC to 87 BC, marking one of the most transformative periods in Chinese history. He reformed the administrative system, promoted Confucianism as the state ideology, and expanded military conquests along the Silk Road trade routes.
After prolonged conflicts with steppe nomads, holding an advantage on horseback against Chinese armies, Emperor Wudi recognized the value of acquiring Heavenly Horse stock. He dispatched Li Guangli, brother of his favorite concubine, to march over 1,000 miles with an army to obtain the horses from the Sogdians, known as the Dayuan by the Chinese. The Sogdians refused to provide the horses and annihilated most of the army sent with Li Guangli. Li Guangli beseeched the emperor for forgiveness and a larger army to retrieve the Heavenly Horses. The emperor, though skeptical, agreed and supplied an army of 180,000 to secure the horses.
The army reached Khodjend, a Sogdian city now known as Khujand in Tajikistan. They besieged the city, blocked its water supply, and compelled the Sogdians to relinquish the Heavenly Horses before returning to the emperor. As Kenneth Harl notes:
Out of the one hundred eighty thousand who set out on the march, only one thousand calvary and ten thousand infantry managed to return to base the next year. The war euphemistically called the War of Heavenly Horses epitomizes the determination of Wudi to win at any cost.
The War of Heavenly Horses resulted in the loss of nearly 200,000 men between the two armies in exchange for a breeding stock of 5,000 Ferghana Heavenly Horses.
For the emperor, the loss of over two hundred thousand soldiers was acceptable in return for five thousand horses, which, in time, might breed fifty thousand horses for the imperial army. Yet the experiment in breeding never worked. The fodder fed to horses in China lacked the selenium necessary for strong bones and muscles, so Chinese-bred horses did not match those nurtured on the grasslands of the Eurasian steppes.
The War of Heavenly Horses has to be one of the most most interesting military failures of all time. Despite achieving the stated military goal, the loss of so many men for what ultimately became a singular generational advantage on the battlefield.
Shen Tai and the Heavenly Horses in ‘Under Heaven
Guy Gavriel Kay adeptly incorporates the historical backdrop of the An Lushan Rebellion into his novel “Under Heaven.” The book utilizes this turbulent period as a framework for the fictional tale of Shen Tai, unexpectedly endowed with an immense herd of 250 coveted Heavenly Horses. These horses serve as the narrative’s core, driving the story’s exploration of power, politics, and the intricate societal dynamics of a Tang Dynasty-inspired world.
The An Lushan Rebellion, a significant event during the Tang Dynasty, commenced in 755 AD and lasted nearly eight years. An Lushan, a general of mixed Sogdian and Turkish origin within the Tang military, instigated a revolt against the Tang Empire. His rebellion was in response to corruption, economic distress, political disarray within the dynasty, and escalating power struggles among various factions at court.
An Lushan proclaimed himself emperor of a new state in the north, launching a large-scale military campaign against the Tang Dynasty. The rebellion led to substantial devastation, loss of life, and widespread chaos throughout the empire, contributing to the Tang Dynasty’s weakened state and a shift in power dynamics that endured long after the rebellion was quelled.
Guy Gavriel Kay astutely weaves the chaos of the rebellion into the narrative, highlighting the shifting dynamics within the Tang Dynasty and placing Shen Tai at the core of this transformative era. Through Shen Tai’s journey amidst the upheaval, Kay intricately paints a vivid canvas where personal struggles intertwine with the grand political stage, delivering a narrative that resonates with the repercussions of rebellion, nuances of power, and fragility of societal order. The novel not only captures the historical weight of the rebellion but uses it as a compelling foundation to explore the complex interplay between individuals and the broader political landscape of a dynasty in flux.
I was captivated by the idea of Shen Tai, an unassuming but critical figure in the empire’s political dynamics. For a beautifully written account that intertwines real historical events, I highly recommend “Under Heaven.”
Conclusion
Be it through the galloping pages of Guy Gavriel Kay’s “Under Heaven” or the hoofprints of real-world history detailed by Kenneth W. Harl, the saga of the Heavenly Horses serves as a vivid reminder that amidst chaos, reining in desires is crucial to avoid a wild ride.