"March 1858 We watched General Rose's army moving towards us from the ramparts of the Fort. A sickle moon hung in the sky like a curved blade and the dull red granite of the Fort breathed out the day's heat. I marvelled at the neatness of the enemy's formation, as it progressed steadily towards us in the blue haze. They stopped about a quarter of a miles short of the city and struck camp. Not one of us slept that night, knowing that the battle was about to begin. At dawn we saw the bonfires sparking, throwing up billows of smoke to disguise movement, and our soldiers started to fire..."