killed in his bed by a round shot, and a Jew butcher was equally unfortunate.... The gunboats bombarded our camp about midnight, and killed and wounded twelve or fourteen.... About ten o'clock on the evening of 18th September, a shell from the lines fell into a house opposite the King's Bastion, where the Town Major, Captain Burke, with Majors Mercier and Vignoles, were sitting. The shell took off Major Burke's thigh; afterwards fell through the floor into the cellar—there it burst, and forced the flooring, with the unfortunate Major, to the ceiling. When assistance came, they found poor Major Burke almost buried among the ruins of the room. He was instantly conveyed to the Hospital, where he died soon after.... On the 30th, a soldier of the 72nd lost both his legs by a shot from Fort Barbara.... In the afternoon of the 7th October, a shell fell into a house in town, where Ensign Stephens of the 39th was sitting. Imagining himself not safe where he was, he quitted the room to get to a more secure place; but just as he passed the door, the shell burst, and a splinter mortally wounded him in the reins, and another took off his leg. He was conveyed to the Hospital, and had suffered amputation before the surgeons discovered the mortal wound in the body. He died about seven o'clock.... In the course of the 25th March, 1782, a shot came through one of the capped embrasures on Princess Amelia's Battery, took off the legs of two men belonging to the 72nd and 73rd Regiments, one leg of another soldier of the 73rd, and wounded another man in both legs; thus four men had seven legs taken off and wounded by one shot." And so on, _ad infinitum_. The daily life was like this; for although even worse was to come at the final attack, this wearying, cruel bombardment went on literally every day. On the 5th May, 1782, the bombardment ceased for twenty-four hours, for the first time during thirteen months. As in the time of great pestilence, after the first alarm has subsided, there is a callous indifference, which creeps over those who have escaped, and among whom the familiarity with Death seems almost to have bred contempt, so—during this long siege—after the novelty and excitement of the first few days' bombardment had worn off, the men became so indifferent to the danger, that, when a shell fell near them, the officer in charge would often have to compel them to take the commonest precautions. The fire of the enemy became a subject of wit even, and laughter, among the men; and probably the unaccustomed silence of that 5th of May, when the bombardment was suspended, was quite irksome to these creatures of habit, whose favourite theme of conversation was thus removed.