by a sepoy of the
Beloochee battalion. However, the roof having been again set on fire,
and the enemy pressing round, Captain Renny, with great gallantry,
mounted to the top of the wall of the magazine, and flung several shells
with lighted fusees into the midst of the enemy. This had so
considerable an effect, that the enemy almost immediately retreated.

The half troop to which Gunner Conolly belonged, under command of
Lieutenant Cooks, having advanced at daybreak at a gallop, and engaged
the enemy within easy musket range, the sponge-men of one of the guns
having been shot, Conolly assumed the duties of second sponge-man; and
he had barely assisted at two discharges of his gun, when a musket-ball
through the left thigh felled him to the ground. Nothing daunted by
pain and loss of blood, he was endeavouring to resume his post, when a
movement in retirement was ordered. Mounting his horse, he rode to the
next position the guns took up, and manfully declined going to the rear
when the necessity of his doing so was represented to him. At about
eleven a.m. he was again knocked down by a musket-ball striking him on
the hip, causing him great pain and faintness. On hearing his
commanding officer direct that he should be taken out of action, he
staggered to his feet, exclaiming, "No, no; I'll not go there while I
can work here."

Shortly afterwards he once more resumed his post. Later in the day the
guns were engaged at 100 yards from the walls of a village, whence a
storm of bullets was directed at them. Here, though suffering severely
from his two previous wounds, he was wielding his guns with an energy
and courage which attracted the admiration of his comrades; and while
cheerfully encouraging a wounded man to hasten in bringing up the
ammunition, he was a third time hit by a musket-ball, which tore through
the muscles of his right leg. Even then, with the most undaunted
bravery he struggled on, and not until he had loaded six times did he
give way, and then only from loss of blood, when he fell fainting at his
post into his commander's arms, and, being placed in a waggon, was borne
in a state of unconsciousness from the fight.

Such are the materials of which are made the true British soldiers, the
redcoats of Old England, who have nobly upheld her honour and glory in
all parts of the world.

We do not pretend to give a catalogue of all the gallant deeds done
during that sanguinary struggle worthy of being