The Fragile Revival of the Yongli Court

As the Ming-Qing transition reached its climax in the late 1640s, the Southern Ming’s Yongli regime (1646-1662) experienced brief moments of resurgence. The defections of Ming turncoat generals Jin Shengheng in Jiangxi and Li Chengdong in Guangdong had suddenly shifted the balance, creating an unexpected opportunity to challenge Qing dominance south of the Yangtze. Yet, as contemporary observers like scholar Qian Bingdeng noted, the Yongli court squandered this strategic window through bureaucratic inertia and misplaced priorities.

The court busied itself with ceremonial relocations and meaningless title-granting rather than coordinating military campaigns. When Li Chengdong—a former Qing commander who switched allegiance to the Ming in 1648—prepared his Guangdong forces for a northern expedition, the moment was ripe. Had he marched immediately to support Jin Shengheng’s siege of Ganzhou, where Qing defenders were already starving, the combined Ming armies could have secured Jiangxi before Qing reinforcements arrived from Nanchang.

The Strategic Blunders at Ganzhou

By May 1648, the tide began turning against the Ming. Jin Shengheng abandoned the Ganzhou siege to rescue Nanchang, leaving Li Chengdong as the lone hope for reversing Jiangxi’s deteriorating situation. That August, Li mobilized an impressive force described as having “flags and armor gleaming for miles, with grain, bows, cannons, and gunpowder beyond counting.” His confidence was palpable as he marched toward Nanxiong, attempting to negotiate the surrender of Ganzhou’s Qing garrison.

However, Qing commanders Liu Wuyuan and Hu Yousheng played a dangerous game of deception. While pretending to consider surrender, they secretly stockpiled supplies and reinforced city defenses. Qian Bingdeng, traveling through the region, warned Li’s staff that Ganzhou’s “daily grain raids” proved their defiance, not submission. He urged bypassing Ganzhou entirely to relieve Nanchang via alternative routes through Jian and Fu prefectures, where Ming loyalists still held territory.

Li dismissed this advice as “bookish theories,” a fatal underestimation. In October, his overconfident assault on Ganzhou collapsed when Qing troops launched a surprise counterattack at dawn. The Ming forces, caught mid-camp construction, suffered devastating losses—reportedly 10,000 troops and half their artillery. Though Li retained substantial forces at Meiling, his withdrawal to Guangzhou handed the strategic initiative back to the Qing.

The Final Gamble at Xinfeng

After winter preparations, Li launched a second campaign in early 1649, now adopting a more cautious approach. He established a base at Xinfeng while sending detachments to capture surrounding counties like Yudu. But the strategic landscape had shifted irrevocably: Nanchang had fallen to the Qing, and elite Manchu banners under Jiao Shang reinforced Ganzhou.

Qing commanders again chose decisive action. On March 1, 1649, their assault trapped Li’s army against the flooded Tao River. In the chaotic retreat, Li—reportedly intoxicated—fell from his horse and drowned. His gilded saddle was later fished from the river, becoming a Qing trophy. The Ming collapse was total: survivors fled south as Qing troops massacred Xinfeng’s civilians.

The Aftermath: A Dynasty’s Final Spasms

Li’s death marked the end of Southern Ming’s last credible field army. His subordinates like Du Yonghe scrambled for power, squabbling over Guangzhou’s riches rather than defending the frontier. The Yongli court’s belated honors—posthumously naming Li “Prince of Ningxia” with nine sacrificial altars—couldn’t mask the disaster.

Contemporary critics like Qian Bingdeng argued that Li’s adoptive son Li Yuanyin, a capable commander, should have taken control. Instead, disunity prevailed. As Du Yonghe and others indulged in luxury, the Qing consolidated control. By 1650, they would capture Guangzhou, sending the Yongli emperor fleeing to Burma.

Why Li Chengdong’s Failure Resonates

This episode reveals critical flaws in the Ming resistance: poor coordination between warlords, underestimation of Qing adaptability, and a court paralyzed by ceremony. Li’s initial successes showed the Qing conquest wasn’t inevitable—but his tactical rigidity and the Yongli regime’s dysfunction turned potential victory into collapse. Modern historians see here a microcosm of why the Ming, despite popular support and capable generals, ultimately failed to withstand the Qing’s systemic military superiority.

The drowned general’s golden saddle, fished from a Jiangxi river, became an apt metaphor—a glittering prize salvaged from what might have been a Ming revival, had strategy matched ambition.