Upon the enemy's ships the Volunteer batteries on the commanding positions on either side of the high banks poured a galling fire, one battery at the foot of the Swing Bridge on the Gateshead side effecting terrible execution. Their guns had been well laid, and the salvoes of shell played about the French gun-vessels and torpedo boats, causing frightful destruction among the crews. Both Newcastle and Gateshead, lying so much higher than the river, were in a certain measure protected, and the high banks afforded a wide command over the waterway. At various points, including the entrances to the High Level Bridge, at the Side, the Close, New Chatham, and the Rabbit Banks, the Volunteers had opened fire, and were keeping up a terrible cannonade. The dark river reflected the red light which flashed forth every moment from gun muzzles, while search-lights from both ships and shore were constantly streaming forth, and the thunder of war shook the tall factory chimneys to their very foundations. Heedless of the strenuous opposition, the invading ships kept up a vigorous fire, which, aimed high, fell in the centre of Newcastle with most appalling effect. In the midst of the crowds in Newgate and Pilgrim Streets shells exploded, blowing dozens of British citizens to atoms and tearing out the fronts of shops. One projectile, aimed at the strangely shaped tower of St. Nicholas' Cathedral, struck it, and swept away the thin upper portion, and another, crashing into the sloping roof of the grim, time-mellowed relic Black Gate, shattered it, and tore away part of the walls. The old castle and the railway bridge were also blown up in the earlier stages of the bombardment, and the square tower of St. John's fell with a sudden crash right across the street, completely blocking it. From end to end Grainger Street was swept by French mélinite shells, which, bursting in rapid succession, filled the air with tiny flying fragments, each as fatal as a bullet fired from a rifle. The French shell is much more formidable than ours, for, while the latter breaks into large pieces, the former is broken up into tiny and exceedingly destructive fragments. In the midst of this terrible panic a shot cut its way through the Earl Grey Monument, causing it to fall, many persons being crushed to death beneath the stones, while both the Central Exchange and the Theatre Royal were now alight, shedding a brilliant glare skyward. At this time, too, the whole of Quay Side was a mass of roaring, crackling flames, the thin spire of St. Mary's Roman Catholic Cathedral had been shot away, Bainbridge's great emporium was blazing furiously, and the Art Club premises had taken fire. One shot had fallen at the back of the Town Hall, and torn an enormous hole in the wall, while another, entering the first floor of the County Hotel, had burst with awful force, and carried away the greater part of its gloomy façade.