The Strategic Shift Southward

By late 1642, Li Zicheng’s peasant rebellion had achieved a decisive victory in Henan, crushing the Ming dynasty’s remaining military forces in the region. With the provincial defenses in disarray, Li and his allies—including Luo Rucai and the leaders of the “Five Rebel Armies of Ge and Zuo”—faced a critical decision: where to strike next. Their choice to march south into Huguang (modern Hubei and Hunan) was driven by both military pragmatism and logistical necessity.

Huguang was the breadbasket of China, famed for the proverb “When Huguang has a good harvest, the whole empire is fed.” This contrasted sharply with famine-stricken Henan, where years of drought and locust plagues had left the land unable to sustain Li’s growing army, now numbering 400,000. Militarily, Huguang offered another advantage. While the Ming still had two key forces—Sun Chuanting’s Shaanxi troops in the west and Zuo Liangyu’s garrison in Xiangyang—Li calculated that Zuo’s army, though larger, was demoralized and corrupt. By striking Huguang first, Li could neutralize Zuo before Sun Chuanting (still recovering from a defeat at Jiaxian) could regroup.

The Fall of Xiangyang: A People’s Uprising

In the winter of 1642, Li’s forces advanced into Hubei, targeting Xiangyang, Zuo Liangyu’s stronghold. Zuo’s army, bloated to 200,000 men but only officially supplied for 25,000, had resorted to pillaging locals for survival. The populace, seething with resentment, sabotaged Zuo’s defenses—burning his fleet of escape ships and guiding rebel troops through unguarded river crossings. Eyewitness accounts describe villagers “burning incense and offering wine to welcome the rebels”, even helping transport artillery.

By early December, Zuo fled eastward, leaving a trail of devastation: “Homes were burned, wells poisoned—nothing was left alive for miles.” Xiangyang fell without resistance, followed by Jingzhou, where locals slaughtered livestock to celebrate the rebels’ arrival. The Ming princes and officials abandoned their posts, and Li’s forces executed the Ming imperial clan members, signaling a rejection of dynastic legitimacy.

The Sack of Cheng Tian: Symbolism and Defiance

The capture of Cheng Tian (modern Zhongxiang) in January 1643 was a psychological blow to the Ming. As the birthplace of the Jiajing Emperor and home to the imperial Xianling Mausoleum, the city symbolized the dynasty’s sacred lineage. Li’s forces not only occupied it but desecrated the mausoleum, renaming the city “Yangwu Zhou” (Martial Glory Prefecture)—a direct challenge to Ming authority. The governor committed suicide; the garrison commander was killed.

The Wuhan Campaign and the “Pacify the Soldiers, Comfort the People” Proclamation

As Li’s army pushed toward Wuhan, Zuo Liangyu’s forces disintegrated, fleeing down the Yangtze amid scenes of chaos: “Soldiers boarded ships like ravenous wolves; the cries of the plundered echoed for miles.” Though an attempted river crossing at Wuhan failed due to treacherous currents, Li issued a landmark manifesto—the “Pacify the Soldiers, Comfort the People” proclamation—which crystallized the rebellion’s ethos:

1. Condemnation of the Ming: The decree branded the Chongzhen Emperor a “tyrant” whose policies—heavy taxes, corrupt officials, and brutal armies—had plunged the people into misery.
2. Legitimacy Through Suffering: Li emphasized his peasant roots (“ten generations of farmers”) and framed the revolt as a moral crusade to “rescue the people from drowning in fire.”
3. Discipline and Vision: The order forbade looting, promising execution for troops who harmed civilians, and invited scholars to join the new order.

Contemporary Ming officials admitted the proclamation’s effectiveness. Scholar Du Yunsui noted: “The people hate soldiers more than bandits. When rebels say ‘Pacify the Soldiers,’ the masses follow like the tide.”

Legacy: The Road to Beijing and Beyond

Li’s Huguang campaign marked a turning point. Militarily, it shattered Ming resistance in central China, paving the way for his 1644 capture of Beijing. Ideologically, the “Pacify the Soldiers” edict articulated a proto-populist platform that resonated with war-weary peasants and disillusioned elites alike. Yet the lack of a cohesive administrative framework—evident in the ad hoc occupation of Huguang—would later undermine Li’s short-lived Shun dynasty.

Today, the campaign is studied for its military innovations (e.g., leveraging popular discontent) and its cautionary tale of revolutionary overreach. For modern China, Li’s blend of agrarian revolt and anti-corruption rhetoric remains a potent historical echo.