The speaker continued: ‘Nobody is allowed to leave the city unless they have special permission from the newly formed Council of War, made up of our most prominent citizens and headed by Lieutenant-Colonel Lundy.’
It was Robert who experienced a mixture of emotions at this. On the one hand, this was all hugely exciting and couldn’t have happened at a better time. Suddenly he was part of something real and important. This was what he had been searching for, the chance for glory. On the other hand, this excitement and newly discovered self-belief made him impatient to see what lay beyond the city he had grown up in. He dreamt of sailing the sea and seeing London. William Cairnes’s uncle had told him about the endless streets, the fancy buildings, the pretty girls and the sheer wealth of the aristocracy.
A plan was forming in his head. He believed that a soldier’s life would give him all that he wanted: travel, a nice wife and untold riches. The possibilities were endless. Why, he might join King William’s army and make his mark in some exotic land he had yet to hear about. The world was finally opening up to him.
But, first things first.
He must help to hold Derry for his king and if that meant seeing nothing but these worn, well-familiar streets for another few months, well, so be it.
Once the threats and proposed punishments for this and that were read out, the speaker moved on to the good news; that is, the rations that would be made available to every soldier in the garrison. As of yet, there was no actual money to pay the men, but this was a temporary situation that would surely be rectified by King William and the parliament in London.
In the meantime, the speaker read: ‘Each soldier shall receive a weekly ration of eight quarts of meal, four pounds of meat and three pounds of meal. A daily measure of beer will also be provided.’
The men cheered their gratitude.
Lieutenant-Colonel Robert Lundy studied the faces of the men. How defiant they seem. Not one of them shows any uncertainty.
Their belief was solid, God was on their side and therefore Derry would be saved.
Lundy searched the sky above for a sign that they were right. After all, the Jacobites had their God too – the same God, by all accounts. Would He choose between the two kings of England, William and James?
Oh, why can’t I just believe like they do? Lundy hoped, however vaguely, that Lord Mountjoy would return from Dublin, but he had had no word on how his commander had fared at the hands of an enraged Richard Talbot. Blast that man! Why doesn’t he come up here and see how things stand for himself?
A raven landed on the roof of the building in front of him. Robert Lundy stared at the bird who seemed to be listening to the goings-on. Birds were believed to be messengers, so was this his sign? What was the other thing he had heard about ravens? Where had he read it, about them meaning war?
He shivered. What exactly was it that bothered him? He took in the city around him, or at least the part he could see from where he stood. Most of the men in front of him were inexperienced. They were soldiers who had yet to fight a single battle. There weren’t nearly enough weapons and, if it came down to it, Derry was on a path of no return. Should the city dig in her heels and attempt to out-wait the Jacobites the lieutenant-colonel knew there wasn’t enough food. The population was far too big. Every soldier standing here, who was braced to fight, was local and so had parents, siblings, grandparents or children that would need to be fed. God help us all!
It had been his idea to dismantle the old houses near the walls. They took up valuable space that would be needed by a fighting army.
Of course, he had sensed his unpopularity growing day by day and had a brief, grim thought about the new gallows. I hope I don’t end up swinging from them. He sighed to himself. I’ll do my best for this city but it might not be good enough.
As he stood there watching the enthusiastic crowd, he was unaware that he was the focus of someone else’s attention, someone who already believed that the governor was not good enough for the job in hand.
A recent addition to the city, Reverend George Walker had made his way to Derry after Lundy ordered the break-up of the garrison at Dungannon. He was an Anglican reverend first and a soldier second: I’m a soldier of the Lord whether I am at the pulpit or on the battlefield. And so he was. A couple of short months ago, when he was rector at Donoughmore in Armagh, he heard about the Jacobite army position at Derry’s walls. This was his moment, he felt, to show his worth to the Lord. So he gathered his own soldiers together and marched to Dungannon, preparing to lay in for whatever came their way.
As far as Reverend Walker and his friends were concerned, Lundy’s order to break up the garrison did not make sense. Superior in size to Derry, Dungannon had been ready to fight. Provisions had been gathered for the expected trouble ahead while troops, including Reverend Walker’s, were formed and armed. All that was needed was a nod from Lundy to make their move. But he surprised them by telling them to evacuate the town. Naturally this created confusion and dismay. However, orders were orders. The troops fell back, allowing Jacobite soldiers, in turn, to fall upon their provisions. No, it made no sense whatsoever.
Taking his bible in hand, the reverend had prayed long and hard over what he should do next. In the end the answer was simple. I’ll go to Derry! God, he felt, had told him that the city needed him.
He was ambitious, but only to be all that God wants me to be.
Judging from the expression on Lundy’s face, it would appear that Derry’s governor keenly desired to be elsewhere. The reverend found himself disapproving of the man’s demeanour; his shoulders were hunched with tension, his chin dipped apologetically while his face had a waxy sheen to it. He looked like a man overly burdened with worry – and with guilt. No, Lundy did not deserve to govern this city. Not at all.
The reverend knew another man who would make a far, far better governor.
A spasm of delight passed over him as he gripped his bible and felt anointed by the Lord.
Chapter Thirteen
James Morrison was humming the same ditty over and over again. Daniel didn’t like to ask the older boy to stop but then realised how ridiculous this was. He had signed up to fight Jacobites so why would he feel awkward about something like this? ‘James …’
His fellow guard glanced at him. ‘What?’
Daniel smiled to show there was no malice behind his words. ‘Well, it’s just that you’ve hummed that song about five times now.’
To his relief, James laughed. ‘Whoops! Sorry, I’m always doing that. It drives my mother mad.’
Daniel breathed easily. ‘Ah, it’s alright. So, when do you think we’ll get our ammunition?’
The cannons had been repaired, polished and repositioned on the walls, but as of yet, there was nothing to fire them with. James shook his head and said, ‘Only the great and wise Lundy knows the answer to that question. He’s ordered us to save our gunpowder and muskets.’
Daniel offered, ‘I suppose he’s right. Isn’t he?’
James gawked at him. ‘Do you think so? Reverend Walker has heard that more Jacobites are heading for us and all we can do, all we are allowed to do, is stand here and bloody wait.’ James blew his nose into his hands and added, ‘And did you hear what the lieutenant-colonel said to the reverend? He told him it was a false claim. Can you believe that?’
Daniel hoped that James would leave it at that but he didn’t.
James had spent the morning lecturing anyone who would listen on why Lundy’s response to the reverend’s news was the most stupid thing he had ever heard in his life. He began once more. ‘Imagine you’re a city that refuses to obey the law of the land …’
Daniel suddenly felt tired but he knew it was only because he was about to spend the next quarter of an hour or so listening to James pontificate. Although he had to admit he preferred listening to James over Henry Campsie.
On the plus side, all that was really required of him was to nod occasionally when not scrunching up his features in pre
tend disbelief. In fact, he could probably get away without doing any of this as long as he agreed with James. That was the important thing.
Earlier that morning Robert had teased his brother about this blossoming friendship. ‘Has he let you fire his gun yet?’
Daniel had made a face in reply. ‘Very funny! He doesn’t have any powder!’
Robert had smirked. ‘I bet he does have some but it’s tucked into his boots and is too damp from his sweaty feet.’
Before Daniel had been able to say anything else their mother had come into the room, carrying Alice. ‘Robert Sherrard, you’re worse than a gossipy old woman!’
Her sons had laughed.
She had sat down on a stool to rock the baby to sleep and had asked, ‘So what is the news in the town? Is there anything your mother should know?’
Daniel had grinned. ‘Now you’re asking us for gossip.’
Those moments were delicious, when thoughts of defence and war could be forgotten, and they could relax together – two grown boys teasing their mother who wanted to have fun.
On watch, Daniel and James stood and stared out across the Foyle, both lost in thought until Daniel asked, ‘Do you think you’ll get married?’
James was taken aback by the suddenness of the question. Checking Daniel’s expression to see he was serious, he asked, ‘Whatever made you think of that?’
Daniel was telling the truth when he shrugged, ‘I don’t know. It just popped into my head.’
James accepted this as a reasonable explanation. ‘I suppose I will, yes. That’s what men do, isn’t it – find a respectable girl, make her your wife and have a family?’
Daniel asked cheekily, ‘Have you found a respectable girl yet?’
James winked. ‘I might have!’ Then he added, ‘But I won’t be doing anything about it until I know Derry is safe from harm.’
Daniel nodded and said, ‘We’re sort of stuck until this is all sorted.’
James’s gaze suddenly darted to the ground. A tiny movement had caught his attention, his full attention. He bounded off.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Daniel.
James put his fingers to his lips and dramatically pointed to a mouse that was minding his own business. Daniel sighed. James frequently boasted he was faster than a cat and, of course, he couldn’t resist the chance to show off in front of him. It was tiring having to constantly provide a response.
Mrs Sherrard told Daniel that the reason James was so needy – her word – was that he was the only child of a doting mother. His father had died when he was a baby and so he was the only man in his mother’s life. ‘He missed out having a father,’ his mother said. ‘I’m sure he envies you and Robert having one another.’
Daniel could understand this and determined to show James more kindness while Robert scoffed at the idea. Daniel wondered if his brother didn’t envy James since he didn’t have to deal with a parent who stubbornly expected him to be better than he was. We always want what someone else has. That’s the conclusion that Daniel reached.
To hide his irritation and also to remind James that he should be focused on working, Daniel leant over the cannon as if to inspect it. He polished it a little with his sleeve, noticing how cool it felt even through his tunic. A spider had spun his web in between the spokes of one of the wheels. When was the last time this gun was used? The web was an inappropriate ornament for such a fearsome weapon. Daniel tore it with his index finger and then had to rub his finger against the wall to release it from the sticky strands.
‘Daniel?’
Daniel decided against looking up immediately. Let him come and stand next to me, where he should be, keeping watch.
‘Daniel?’
James’s tone was low and urgent, but Daniel paid it no heed. He has to learn not to keep running off.
And Daniel might have kept this up had not another guard shouted, ‘Look, it’s them!’
At this, Daniel’s head snapped upwards to see James holding a wriggling mouse by the tail in one hand while using his other to point across the river Foyle.
The cool, silent body of the cannon stopped Daniel from stumbling at the sight of a huge army, newly arrived, to flesh out the one that had been camped there for ages.
James called out, ‘It’s that lot that Reverend Walker was talking about.’ He dropped the relieved mouse as he added, ‘There’s Lundy’s false alarm!’
Daniel asked, ‘What do we do?’
James spat, ‘Nothing. That’s his orders. We do nothing except stand here with empty guns and watch.’
Daniel watched and felt that the new arrivals were a great deal superior to the old ones. They had more horses for one thing, while they also appeared more disciplined and professional. Another guard joined himself and Daniel and said, ‘They’re taking care to be noticed by us. We’re meant to be trembling with fear now and unlocking the gates.’
James cursed at them while Daniel suddenly asked, ‘Wait! What are they doing?’
The three of them stared and stared until James declared, ‘They’re loading a cannon!’
That couldn’t be right, could it? It was hard to accept this after months of inactivity when the guards at Ferry Quay Gate complained about the boredom of watching the camp do nothing interesting in the least. The fact that Derry might be fired upon had seemed a relevant one back in December but now, five months later, it was hardly considered a possibility – until now.
The older guard muttered, ‘They’re just bluffing!’
Daniel was too polite and inexperienced to disagree, although it struck him that it was a trifle silly to go to the bother of loading up a cannon and not fire it. If the old soldier was prepared to remain still while the enemy cannon was primed and pointed in their direction, James and Daniel were prepared to look foolish and they cowered down to cover themselves.
They needn’t have bothered. Not that the Jacobite cannon wasn’t fired; it most definitely was. Those Papists had the cheek, after all this time, to fire one single cannonball which hit the Newgate Bastion, a few feet away from the boys. Daniel and James jumped up, ready to dash off for ammunition, their fear forgotten.
‘No,’ said the old soldier. ‘Stay where you are. They’re leaving now. See for yourself.’
The two boys saw the men get back in line and an order was made to resume marching again.
‘What is it? What happened?’ Reverend Walker was out of breath, his wig askew. The whole city had heard the solitary boom.
The older soldier replied, ‘It’s alright, Reverend. Just a new battalion saying “hello”!’
The reverend breathed noisily through his nose. ‘They’re going to Strabane to collect more recruits.’ He slapped the cannon, making the boys jump again. ‘How dare they! We should have returned fire.’
Daniel was too timid to point out the obvious, but James was happy to do it, ‘But, sir, we’re not allowed to keep any gunpowder on us … otherwise we surely would have fired.’
The reverend spun around to face them. Keeping an eye on the marching army, he shoved his wig farther up his head. ‘What did you say, boy?’
Daniel saw James falter. ‘I’m s-sorry, sir. I didn’t mean any disrespect.’
‘No,’ sighed Reverend Walker. ‘What you meant was that the individual who thought that they were only a false alarm is the same one who insisted on the gunpowder being hidden away.’
His audience dared not say another word.
‘Tell me,’ said the reverend to the older soldier. ‘Do you think they’ll be back?’ He calmed visibly when the man replied immediately and honestly, ‘Yes, sir. They’ll be back.’ In fact the churchman began to smile, though Daniel thought it the coldest smile he had ever seen. ‘Well, then,’ he said. ‘Let them come back and this time we’ll be ready and waiting.’
Chapter Fourteen
Adam Murray was having a busy morning. Due to a burst of dissatisfaction with Robert Lundy, he had found himself in charge of approximately fifteen hundred s
oldiers. How did this happen?
His father had a simple explanation: they recognise the leader in him and plainly see his courage. As far as Gabriel was concerned, it was all perfectly natural and no surprise at all. So, he wouldn’t be bothering to congratulate his son on his informal promotion. Adam was still expected to visit, burn his mouth on the soup of the day and sew whatever needed mending.
In truth, Adam was taking it all in his stride. Thanks to Robert Lundy’s fit of temper one evening, Adam only went into Derry when it was necessary. The lieutenant-colonel had ordered the gates to remain locked against hundreds of Derry soldiers who had been out ambushing the Jacobites. Apparently he thought it was necessary to protect the city’s supplies from her own fighting men. It proved too much for some of the men who decided, on that very night, to take the next boat to England. The rest of them were now following Adam Murray, or Colonel Murray as they called him. They pledged to fight until death, believing that death on the battlefield would be infinitely kinder than handing themselves over to the Catholics. They trusted Adam. He never showed fear; he was always in front, sitting on his white horse, leading the way. He made a perfect substitute for the shady Robert Lundy.
Adam did ask his father if he was alright with his son devoting most of his time to warfare. In ordinary times Adam would have helped out with the farm, but these days there just weren’t enough hours to allow him to do this.
Gabriel was typically blunt. ‘Aren’t you really asking me for my blessing?’
Adam shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’
His father was cleaning his fingernails with the old bread knife. ‘I’ve never stopped you from doing what you want to do and I’m not about to start now.’
There was silence as Adam dissected his father’s words, to find the encouragement in them. Like most sons, he did, on top of everything else, hope to make his father proud.
However, Gabriel, as far as Adam could see, was not like most fathers. Sometimes it seemed that the old man did not have the least bit of interest in what was going on around him. He rarely ventured away from the farm and did not make a particularly good listener when Adam filled him in on the latest news. No doubt it was to do with his fair age. Gabriel was already in his forties by the time Adam arrived, shocking his poor parents to the core. Now he was a stubborn old man who wanted nothing except to see his wife again. Gabriel never actually said this, but Adam understood it all the same.
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