As soon as the enemy discovered their mistake, they did their utmost to prevent our batteries being constructed; but the Engineers were not to be deterred.  By the morning of the 11th No. 2 battery was completed, armed, and unmasked, and No. 3 and No. 4 batteries were marked out in the Kudsiabagh.  No. 3, commanded by Major Scott, was constructed for six 18-pounders, and twelve 5-1/2-inch mortars under Captain Blunt.  Norman in his narrative says:  ’The establishment of Major Scott’s battery within 180 yards of the wall, to arm which heavy guns had to be dragged from the rear under a constant fire of musketry, was an operation that could rarely have been equalled in war.’  During the first night of its construction 89 men were killed and wounded; but with rare courage the workmen continued their task.  They were merely unarmed pioneers; and with that passive bravery so characteristic of Natives, as man after man was knocked over, they would stop a moment, weep a little over a fallen friend, place his body in a row along with the rest, and then work on as before.[5]

No. 4 battery, armed with ten heavy mortars, and commanded by Major Tombs, was placed under the shelter of an old building, about half-way between No. 2 and No. 3 batteries.[6]

I was posted to the left half of No. 2 battery, and had charge of the two right guns.  At eight o’clock on the morning of the 11th September we opened fire on the Kashmir bastion and the adjoining curtain, and as the shots told and the stones flew into the air and rattled down, a loud cheer burst from the Artillerymen and some of the men of the Carabineers and 9th Lancers who had volunteered to work in the batteries.  The enemy had got our range with wonderful accuracy, and immediately on the screen in front of the right gun being removed, a round shot came through the embrasure, knocking two or three of us over.  On regaining my feet, I found that the young Horse Artilleryman who was serving the vent while I was laying the gun had had his right arm taken off.

In the evening of the same day, when, wearied with hard work and exhausted by the great heat, we were taking a short rest, trusting to the shelter of the battery for protection, a shower of grape came into us, severely wounding our commander, Campbell, whose place was taken by Edwin Johnson.  We never left the battery until the day of the assault—­the 14th—­except to go by turns into Ludlow Castle for our meals.  Night and day the overwhelming fire was continued, and the incessant boom and roar of guns and mortars, with the ceaseless rain of shot and shell on the city, warned the mutineers that their punishment was at hand.  We were not, however, allowed to have it all our own way.  Unable to fire a gun from any of the three bastions we were breaching, the enemy brought guns into the open and enfiladed our batteries.  They sent rockets from their martello towers, and they maintained a perfect storm of musketry from their advanced trench and from the city walls.  No part of the attack was left unsearched by their fire, and though three months’ incessant practice had made our men skilful in using any cover they had, our losses were numerous, 327 officers and men being killed and wounded between the 7th and 14th September.