It was a melancholy scene; yet there was a stern terror in the circumstances around, which kept the mind from indulging in weakness. There was no tear shed, and few words were spoken. The melancholy drum, mingled with frequent sounds of cannon from the town, was the dirge; and the deserted village through which the procession moved, with the warlike figures composing it, imparted feelings indescribable, and only to be understood by those who have been in similar circumstances. The sense of death and desolation, together with the peal of the cannon, wrought their combined effects on the faces of all; and I firmly believe, that had the officers and men, composing the mournful procession, their choice of immediate battle or undisputed victory, they would have taken the former. Woe to the foe who should have dared to encounter them at that moment! The enemy continued to annoy the British lines during the whole of the time we lay before the town (twelve or thirteen days) previous to the bombardment. Their riflemen were constantly creeping in front, behind low walls and fences, to pick out an odd man from our working-parties, and our German riflemen played at “hide and seek” with them wherever they could. The guns and mortars from the town, too, were ever and anon employed upon any party, or even a single man, at whom they could be brought to bear. The shells were also thrown amongst the huts or houses in which the enemy supposed any of our men might be, so that we were obliged to be constantly on the look-out, to avoid them when they fell. As instances of the precision with which they, as well as the shot, were thrown, I will mention two cases; one relating to Major Thompson, of the 68th, and the other to Mr. Cheselden, assistant-surgeon of the 81st. The former had moved out from behind the cover of a hedge, to direct some of his men, who were employed in working; he had not been thus exposed two minutes, when a shell was thrown close to him, and exploded, shattering his right arm below the elbow. This officer, on having the limb amputated, appeared to suffer no more than if the surgeon had been merely bleeding him; he looked steadily at the movements of the knife, occasionally directing the assistants to bring water, sponge, &c. &c. The other instance was this: Mr. Cheselden, in company with an officer of the Quartermaster General's staff and another, was amusing himself in looking over the lines. They had stopped upon a rising part of the road to talk with an orderly man and a drummer, who stood near. In a few moments a gun from the town was levelled at them, and the shot struck the earth close by, passing through the group, knocking them all down, and almost covering them with fragments of earth and sand. Worse consequences, however, followed: Mr. Cheselden's thigh was shattered, and the orderly man killed; the others received no injury except the discoloration of their clothes. The assistant surgeon's thigh was immediately amputated.