Seeing that it would be madness to keep the garrison at their posts, I ordered the men to withdraw and take shelter within the courtyard, where, save for an occasional dropping fire from the musketeers, they were in comparative safety, the double thickness of the walls preventing the cannon-balls from passing completely through.
Hardly was the last man down than a sudden roar burst upon our ears, followed by an appalling crash of falling masonry.
The bombardment had commenced,
"If this continue, we shall have nothing but a breastwork of fallen stone to protect us," exclaimed Granville.
"'Tis better than nothing at all," replied the colonel, who was calmly smoking his pipe. "Rubble masonry will serve the purpose better than standing walls. Look!" he exclaimed, pointing through a window. "'Twould have been farewell to us all had we remained on the roof."
The second discharge had blown in a part of the hall, and the roof, together with the culverins, had fallen in with a crash and a thick cloud of dust.
"It has cut off our retreat to the cellars," cried Granville, crestfallen.
"There is another entrance from the buttery," I replied. "But 'tis not yet time to think of retreat."
The cannonade continued for over an hour, during which time thirty-two men clustered in helpless suspense against the inner wall; though at intervals the colonel, dauntless in danger, made his way through the ruined hall to make sure that the pikemen were not advancing to the assault.
The firing had been directed almost at one spot, with the intention of making a wide breach, and in this object the rebels succeeded. To our surprise, however, we heard a trumpet sound a parley, and another envoy appeared summoning us once again to surrender at discretion, otherwise a general assault would be made at daybreak on the morrow. To this proposal we gave a stern refusal.