still greater difficulties when he was in motion; compelled him to halt where no provisions were to be had; and were so destructive to his cattle as sometimes entirely to cripple his army. The violent heats, in tents, and during marches, were distressing at other seasons, and often rendered overpowering by the failure of water: general famines and pestilences came more than once, in addition to the scarcity and sickness to which his own camp was often liable; and all was aggravated by the accounts of the havoc and destruction committed by the enemy in the countries beyond the reach of these visitations[1].
In the midst of these manifold discouragements Aurangzíb displayed all his ancient energy. It was he who planned every campaign, issued all the general orders, selected the points for attack and the lines of entrenchment, and controlled every movement of him various divisions in the Deccan. He conducted many of the sieges in person, and when a mine exploded on the besiegers at Sattára, in 1699, and general despondency fell on the army, the octogenarian mounted his horse and rode to the scene of disaster 'as if in search of death.' He piled the bodies of the dead into a human ravelin, and was with difficulty prevented from leading the assault himself. He was still the man who chained his elephant at the battle of Samúgarh. Nor was his energy confined to the overwhelming anxieties of the war. His orders extended to affairs in Afghánistán, and disturbances at Agra; he even thought of retaking Kandahár. Not an
- ↑ Elphinstone (1866), pp. 665, 666.
