The waters of the Pegnitz were tainted by the carcasses of dead horses and other animals.

The supplies of forage had long since been exhausted, and the baggage and troop animals died in vast numbers.
Still there was no sign of a change.

Wallenstein would not attack, Gustavus could not.

The Swedish king waited to take advantage of some false move on the part of the Imperial commander; but Wallenstein was as great a general as himself, and afforded him no opening, turning a deaf ear to the entreaties and importunities of Maximilian that he would end the tedious siege by an attack upon the small and enfeebled army around Nuremberg.
All this time Gustavus was in constant communication with his generals outside, his messengers making their way by speed or stratagem through the beleaguering Croats, and kept up the spirits of his men by daily reviews and by the cheerful countenance which he always wore.
The Swedish columns were gradually closing in towards Nuremberg.

One was led by the chancellor Oxenstiern, to whom had been committed the care of the Middle Rhine and the Lower Palatinate, where he had been confronted by the Spanish troops under Don Philip de Sylva.
On the 11th July, leaving Horn with a small force to oppose the Spaniards, the chancellor set out to join his master.