policy and the luxurious splendour of Shah Jahan's court had bred both indifference and effeminacy in what had once been an army of hardy mountaineers. India had proved the Capua of Babar's veterans, and the enervating climate had relaxed their thews and softened their training, while drink had become the curse not only of the imperial house, many of whom died of it, but also of the nobles and the whole court. As Sir William Hunter has said, "The heroic soldiers of the early empire and their not less heroic wives had given place to a vicious and delicate breed of grandees. The ancestors of Aurangzib, who swooped down on India from the north, were ruddy men in boots: the courtiers among whom Aurangzib grew up were pale persons in petticoats. Babar, the founder of the empire, had swum every river which he met with during thirty years of campaigning; the luxurious nobles around the youthful Aurangzib wore skirts made of innumerable folds of the finest white muslin, and went to war in palankins." Nothing but the old emperor's steel hand and high example could have made these men join in his campaigns; but even so, twenty years of doubtful warfare had exhausted what courage there was, and his successor inherited a thoroughly dispirited army.
With such materials as he had, and against such odds, Bahadur must be credited with both courage and prudence. He showed no rancour against the chiefs who had sided with his brothers in the brief war of succession, but gladly welcomed them to his
