At daybreak the enemy's cavalry was reported to have completely invested the city, and before night again came round, the main body of their army had arrived and were busily engaged erecting batteries from which to bombard the walls. It was evident their intention was to capture the entire garrison as well as the capital of the state.
A suggestion that the Rani should make her escape while there might yet remain an opportunity, was received by the fair defender with scorn.
"Fear not," she retorted with animation, "that I will suffer the indignity of capture at their hands. My dead body they may find, but the spirit of the Rani of Jhansi will have carried more than one of them to an accounting before the great tribunal of justice."
In two days the enemy's batteries were completed, then the storm of war burst with full violence upon the city. The garrison spiritedly returned the fire shot for shot with many to the good, breaches were made in the walls to be repaired by the hands of the women and children, animated to heroic actions by the presence and inspiring words of their beautiful queen, who seemed oblivious to any form of danger. At all hours she visited the ramparts to encourage her soldiers with stirring appeals.
Day by day, for seventeen in number, the duel of cannon shot was kept up on both sides, while watchers on the Jhansi citadel cast their vision with anxious eagerness across the Betwa to the north and west. Was Tantia Topi going to abandon them to the mercy of the Foreigners? The question forced itself upon their minds.
The situation was fast becoming desperate. Great rents had been made in the solid masonry at strategic points that could not be repaired. The dead and dying numbered hundreds. The besieged began to fight not with the hope of victory, but with the courage of despair.
At last the mamelon itself was reduced by the furious cannonade, its guns silenced. A hand to hand conflict seemed imminent. It was then the Rani performed an act of sublime courage which inspired admiration even in the eyes of her enemies.
Messenger after messenger had arrived at the palace bearing on their faces expressions of dismay that told without words of the terror seizing upon their hearts. One at length brought the worst news yet received.
"My Lady Rani," he spoke hurriedly. "The parapet of the mamelon is shot away, the breach momentarily widens, Ahmad Khan who, although badly wounded, still fights like ten thousand tigers, sends word that it must shortly be abandoned. Alas! the troops are becoming disheartened, and hesitate to obey their orders."
The spirit of the Rani rose upon the instant to confront the impending calamity.