Chapter 3: Changing Strategy

Zhu Zhenqing sat back down in his chair and fell into thought. He had to admit that no one in the late Ming possessed greater strategic vision and military talent than Hong Chengchou. In the middle and late Chongzhen years, it was Hong Chengchou, along with Lu Xiangsheng and Sun Chuanting, whose desperate efforts kept the Great Ming alive for a few more years. Without these men, the dynasty would have collapsed long ago.

But the historical Chongzhen had been impatient by nature. He too had recognized that the roving bandits were the greatest threat to the Ming realm, yet in his haste for results, he repeatedly issued edicts pressing Hong Chengchou, ordering him to destroy the bandits within a set deadline—to completely wipe out, within a few months, the hundreds of thousands of roving bandits who had already formed formidable fighting strength. This drove Hong Chengchou, whose forces were already stretched thin, to exhaustion, and he suffered one defeat after another. In the end came the great defeat at Songshan, where the main strength of the Ming army was destroyed, and he surrendered to the Manchus.

The reason the roving bandits were so difficult to eradicate lay in their mobility. They avoided strength and struck at weakness—whenever the government troops were powerful, they fled; wherever defenses were weak, they broke through the cities and plundered wantonly.

Among them, the Dashing King Gao Yingxiang was the strongest. Gao Yingxiang's forces were largely composed of cavalry of mixed Han and barbarian origin, with sharp armor and weapons, fierce and reckless in battle, and skilled at sudden assaults. Moreover, through prolonged combat against government troops, they had gained rich experience. In battle their orders were strictly enforced; when facing the enemy they could maintain formation without disorder, while also setting ambushes with infantry and charging with cavalry.

Hong Chengchou's troops, by contrast, were generally three parts cavalry to seven parts infantry. In pitched battle they would not easily be defeated, but when the bandits saw the situation was hopeless they would swiftly retreat, and the government troops could only watch helplessly as the bandits rode away. The only way to deal with cavalry was to match cavalry with cavalry—Hong Chengchou's memorials vaguely hinted at this intention, but fearing he would earn a reputation for fearing the enemy and shrinking from battle, he dared not propose it openly.

At this thought, Zhu Zhenqing's mind stirred, and he recalled a cavalry force of great renown in later ages—the Guanning Iron Cavalry. The fighting power of this fierce force, built around cavalry, was beyond question, but its discipline was rotten, and the military clans of Liaodong had now grown too powerful to control. This was evident from their conduct in the second year of Chongzhen, when the Jianzhou barbarians breached the passes and besieged the capital—Zu Dashou actually dared, after Yuan Chonghuan was arrested, to lead his troops away and abandon the enemy on his own authority, disregarding the fact that the Jianzhou army still threatened the capital and disregarding the emperor's safety. Clearly, in his heart he no longer held the court in any regard.

But for now, the Great Ming court showed no signs of imminent collapse, and the various military commanders did not dare openly defy orders—they merely resorted to petty tricks and paid lip service while acting otherwise. It seemed the most pressing need was to have a usable army capable of overawing all quarters. If one held an invincible force in hand, those arrogant generals and unruly soldiers below would become docile and obedient. Whoever dared defy the court would face the risk of annihilation, and their present wealth and glory would vanish like smoke. After all, who would dare pit their few thousand troops against an entire nation? The roving bandits were nothing but mud-legged peasants who couldn't get enough to eat; these great military clans looked down on them and would not deign to associate with them.

"Wang Cheng'en, transmit my edict to the Ministry of War: mobilize the forces under Zu Kuan, Zu Dale, Li Zhongzhen, and Wu Sangui, and order them southward by a fixed deadline. The forces of Zu Kuan and Li Zhongzhen shall come under the command of Commander-General Lu Xiangsheng. The forces of Zu Dale and Wu Sangui shall come under the command of Governor-General of the Five Provinces Hong Chengchou."

"Additionally, allocate from the privy purse 200,000 taels of military pay each to Hong Chengchou and Lu Xiangsheng. The emperor does not send hungry soldiers—tell them that this is all the family fortune I have, and they should spend it frugally! But they must not delay or embezzle the soldiers' pay! I will send men to audit the accounts—let them conduct themselves accordingly!" Wang Cheng'en acknowledged and left.

Zhu Zhenqing pondered whether he should write secret edicts to Hong Chengchou and Lu Xiangsheng. The content would be to change the previous strategy and tactics of urgently seeking to destroy the bandits, and instead to plan gradually. Of course, this gradual approach was not an indefinite postponement, for another mortal threat was still watching hungrily. Although Hong Taiji now harbored vague ambitions toward the Great Ming realm, in the eyes of the vast majority of barbarian chieftains, the Great Ming was merely a piece of fat meat—their fundamental aim was to seize any opportunity to tear off a bite.

Therefore, the gradual approach was merely to give Hong Chengchou and Lu Xiangsheng more time to arrange matters at leisure. Once an opportunity presented itself, the bandits must still be thoroughly eradicated. For Zhu Zhenqing knew that it was precisely these roving bandits, now of no great consequence, who would ultimately destroy the Great Ming.

At this thought, Zhu Zhenqing ordered: "Someone! Bring brush and ink!"

From outside the hall, a young eunuch of about fifteen ran in at the sound, came to the imperial desk, and deftly laid out brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. After grinding the ink, he bent and presented the imperial brush to Zhu Zhenqing. Zhu Zhenqing gave him an approving look, took the brush, and after dipping it in ink, asked: "What is your name?"

The young eunuch knelt swiftly and replied: "Reporting to His Majesty, this slave is named Li Erxi, aged fifteen."

"Where is your family from, and why did you enter the palace?" Zhu Zhenqing did not begin writing immediately but asked with interest.

"Let Your Majesty know: this slave's family was from Changping in Beizhili. In the second year of Chongzhen, the Jianzhou barbarians breached the passes, and Changping suffered the calamity of war. This slave's father, mother, and elder brother all died, leaving only a younger sister. This slave brought his sister and fled with the villagers to the capital, where they remained. Later, when the barbarians left, the villagers all returned home. Because this slave's family had no remaining property—previously we had rented others' land to make a living—and now only this slave and his sister remained, and she was only five at the time, unable to work the fields, so we stayed. This slave was still young and lacked the strength to find work to support his sister. Fortunately, a kind-hearted person showed me the way, and so I was castrated and entered the palace, where the monthly wages allow me to support my sister!"

Zhu Zhenqing felt a pang of sorrow: "And your sister? You are in the palace and cannot leave on ordinary days. She is young—how does she survive?"

"To answer Your Majesty: the kind person who guided me into the palace took her in as an adopted daughter. After this slave's monthly expenses, he is permitted to leave the palace once to deliver money to her."

Zhu Zhenqing was silent for a long moment, then said: "Rise. Do your work well from now on, and serve under Wang Cheng'en."

"Thank you for Your Majesty's grace, thank you for Your Majesty's grace!" Li Erxi replied happily as he rose. To serve under His Majesty's personal eunuch—that was a future of bright prospects; at the very least, one would have protection and no longer be bullied by other eunuchs.

Zhu Zhenqing began to write the edict. A secret edict differed from other imperial decrees—of course it had to be written personally. Especially such a secret edict that essentially negated his own earlier strategic thinking; as much as possible, it must not be known to others, so as to preserve the emperor's dignity. Though his soul came from a later age, he had inherited all the faculties of this body from before. The Chongzhen Emperor had been quite accomplished in letters, and his calligraphy was especially praised.

After deliberating for a moment, Zhu Zhenqing picked up the brush and wrote swiftly. It was less an imperial edict than a secret letter. A quarter of an hour later, he finished one, then wrote another of largely similar content.

After about half an hour, both secret edicts were completed. Li Erxi took them, waited for the ink to dry completely, then lifted them and pressed the imperial jade seal from the desk upon them. Finally, each was placed in a vermilion box and sealed with beeswax—that was done.

"Deliver these secret edicts to the chief officer of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. Have him arrange reliable men to escort the eunuchs bearing the edicts, together with the military pay, to reach the Governor-General and the Commander-General!"

"This slave obeys the edict!" Li Erxi picked up the boxes, turned, and trotted off.

"Why hasn't that slave Wang Cheng'en returned yet?" Zhu Zhenqing muttered to himself. Then he reconsidered—the Ministry of War was outside the palace, and with the journey there and back plus delivering the edict and reporting, it would take at least an hour. He had been a bit impatient. Not that it was surprising—though his soul had crossed over, his temperament was deeply ingrained and hard to change overnight.

A little over an hour later, Wang Cheng'en returned. Zhu Zhenqing asked: "Is it done?"

"Reporting to Your Majesty, it is done. Because I had a few words of dispute with the Minister of War, some time was lost!"

"Oh? What did Zhang Fengyi say?" Zhu Zhenqing asked.

"To answer Your Majesty: when the Minister received the edict, his face showed difficulty. When this old slave urged him to affix his seal and issue the order, he asked this old slave to report to Your Majesty that if so many troops were transferred south, he feared the Jianzhou barbarians would hear of it and attack while our defenses were weakened. Should any mishap occur, he would bear the grave crime of losing territory. This old slave knows nothing of military matters, but this old slave is Your Majesty's man, so I told him this was the imperial will and absolutely could not be defied! Under this old slave's insistence, he finally issued the order and affixed his seal. This old slave watched with his own eyes as he dispatched men to carry out the order, and only then hurried back."

"You did well. Go and summon the meal!"

Wang Cheng'en acknowledged and turned to leave, but suddenly looked back at Zhu Zhenqing and said: "Your Majesty, this old slave feels the Minister's words have some merit. There won't be trouble in Liaodong, will there?"

"Hurry up and go summon the meal—this is not your concern!" Zhu Zhenqing scolded with a laugh.

Wang Cheng'en went off grinning. By ordinary reasoning, Minister of War Zhang Fengyi was not exactly wrong—after all, this transfer of over ten thousand elite cavalry southward did leave Liaodong's forces somewhat depleted. But Zhu Zhenqing had come with knowledge from a later age; he knew that next year the Jianzhou barbarians would indeed breach the Great Wall again and reach the vicinity of the capital—but not through the Shanhai Pass line, rather by breaking through at Juyong Pass. Moreover, Liaodong had gathered over a hundred thousand heavy troops, all cowering within their cities; the cavalry dared not actively provoke the Jianzhou barbarians, so keeping them there was of little use. Recalling Zhang Fengyi's conduct in this life, Zhu Zhenqing felt disgust—an incompetent man occupying a high position. It seemed time to promote Yang Sichang. Though later ages judged Yang Sichang more with blame than praise, the strategy he formulated in his early tenure as Minister of War was still workable; it was only later, due to various reasons, that the situation deteriorated continuously, and he ultimately met a fate of utter ruin.