Behind the Walls

by Nicola Pierce

  Perhaps it was inevitable that a popularity contest had been brewing between Lieutenant-Colonel Robert Lundy and the local farmer turned soldier Adam Murray. Unfortunately for the former it was no contest at all. Adam inspired confidence with his fierce resistance to the Jacobite cause. He was not troubled by doubts as to whose side he was on. He was a Derry Protestant and that was that. Nobody was paying him to be there or expecting him to behave in a certain manner. As far as Adam was concerned, the only person he had to answer to was God and – maybe, also – Gabriel, his father.

  James Morrison, who had climbed up on top of St Columb’s Cathedral’s tower, the highest point in Derry, shouted down, ‘I think I can see him – I can definitely see a white horse!’

  There was a sudden flurry of ‘Where? Where is he?’ But James only spoke to Henry. ‘Pennyburn Mill! I’m sure it’s him!’

  Of course it was Adam, riding for his life and the life of the city.

  Pennyburn Mill was a mile north of the city. Adam had pushed Pegasus hard for the first three miles and then on seeing the fresh armies around Derry knew he was too late.

  ‘DAMN HIM!’

  Adam shouted this out to the plains between them. He braced himself to watch. Would they let the Papist in? It was all over if they did. Like James himself, Adam waited and waited, peering hard over Pegasus’s head. But nothing happened. Nothing at all. The different sections of the king’s army made no movement, so they must not have been allowed entry to the city.

  Filling with a renewed hope that common sense had prevailed, even in the face of this infamous royal visitor, Adam turned Pegasus. He needed his army or even just some of them. Lundy must have lost Derry! This jubilant thought propelled him to keep going and keep calm. It wouldn’t do to lose his head now. There was still time but he would have to think and act quickly. Now it was a race between him and those inside the city who wanted to surrender it.

  In the city, most of the boys climbed the walls, impatient to see Adam Murray on his white horse. Daniel sent a prayer to Heaven above, Oh let him come now!

  ‘Where’s he going?’ asked Robert as they watched the horse and rider turn away.

  Henry grasped the situation immediately. ‘I bet he’s gone to fetch his men. We need to hold James here until he returns.’

  Daniel asked, ‘But what if Robert Lundy or some of the others arrive?’

  Henry shrugged. ‘They won’t come if they don’t know that James is here!’

  Daniel wasn’t convinced. He gestured to the crowd below. ‘What about them?’

  Henry smiled. ‘None of that lot want to surrender and, even if they did, none of them would be allowed to interrupt a council meeting!’ Henry was adamant about that.

  Outside the city gates a voice called, ‘Your Excellency!’

  James guessed it was Avaux and pretended not to hear him. He wouldn’t be thwarted now. God above would reward him for his patience and humility. Raindrops seeped down the front of his cloak but it was of little importance to him. He preferred to think upon this as a test of his belief and strength. He didn’t mind getting wet if the good people of Derry just let him inside. One must decipher which is the greater sacrifice in order to triumph. Jesus was nailed to a cross; this lack of welcome hardly compares to that!

  The young trumpeter wished he was tucked up in bed, back home in Dublin; anywhere else but in this God-forsaken place.

  There was a shout from the other rampart, where Lieutenant-General de Rosen’s battalion was being watched. Henry Campsie led his friends over to see what was going on.

  It was a nasty shock to find so many enemy soldiers standing there, in formation, waiting to make their next move. Rifles were held in both hands and were no doubt loaded and ready to shoot.

  Robert exclaimed, ‘They’re far too close. That’s not what Hamilton promised!’

  Daniel felt that Henry was delighted at this breach.

  Some of the boys started to shout at the Jacobites, ‘Get back, you fools!’

  The warning shouts were ignored, and Henry was suitably outraged. ‘Who do they think they are?’

  Robert needed to find an explanation. ‘The Papist fools are only feeling confident because their old king is at the gate.’

  Daniel felt things were happening too fast but he had no authority to call for calm. His only option was to get his brother’s attention. To this end, he moved to his side and muttered, ‘We need to alert Reverend Walker.’

  Robert shrugged. ‘I know but …’

  Henry dashed about, trying to see everything at once. He asked, ‘Where’s Colonel Whitney?’

  Robert answered him, ‘He’s with Lundy and the others.’

  James Morrison added to the panic by exclaiming, ‘They’re coming closer. My God! Do they mean to storm the gates?’

  That was it for Henry. He seized a rifle from one of the guards and, with a growl, made for the part of the wall that was nearest Bishop’s Gate, where the ever patient King James was still waiting to be admitted.

  Robert and Daniel bumped into one another in their effort to keep up with Henry. The two Sherrards were suddenly alarmed about their friend’s intentions. To Daniel’s horror he saw that Henry had gunpowder. Grabbing Robert by the arm, he asked desperately, ‘Is he going to shoot the king?’

  Robert was aghast. ‘No, he’s not. He wouldn’t do something that stupid!’

  He convinced neither of them.

  There was a blast of gunfire.

  ‘Oh, no!’ gasped the boys together as they raced to look over the wall.

  Horses spluttered and neighed in protest, King James was trying to steady his while some of his men ran to help him, taking care not to stamp on the slain body of the trumpeter. A large blood stain was flowering rapidly from the centre of the boy’s chest.

  Robert sprinted off after Henry, pushing through groups of guards who were reeling from the sound of peace being shattered. Daniel stayed where he was, watching the king finally rein in his horse One of the king’s men grabbed the trumpeter’s riderless horse. It quivered in fright.

  Robert felt sick. What had Henry been thinking? He arrived by Henry’s side and shouted the exact same question at his friend. ‘What the hell are you thinking?’

  Henry was cool, though a fire danced within him and there was a buzzing in his ears. He turned to face Robert and asked, ‘Are you with me?’

  Robert was confused. ‘What do you mean?’

  Henry, looking behind and around Robert, beckoned for attention from a bigger audience before declaring, ‘This is it! There’s only this moment. What we do today will echo through the years to come. No surrender!’

  He paused before saying it again, ‘No surrender!’ Then he shouted it as loud as he could. ‘NO SURRENDER!’

  The crowd on the ground took up the chant. ‘No surrender!’

  Henry punched the air and said it back to them. ‘No surrender!’

  Daniel watched him in grudging admiration. The crowd were dancing and shouting their defiance. This was their city, their home, their religion. No surrender. It was infectious. It gave voice to their pride, their love, their passion – call it what you will. No surrender.

  Henry leant over the wall and called for everyone else to take up the cry, and those proud citizens of Derry – men, women and children – flung the words at the head of James, his French advisors, Lieutenant-General de Rosen and every single Jacobite solider who could hear them: ‘NO SURRENDER!’

  Someone picked up a stone and fired it at the group below. It was the signal for everyone else to do the same. An avalanche of pebbles and rocks rained down upon the royal party. They quickly retreated.

  Daniel’s stomach lurched at the sorrowful expression on the king’s face. He wanted to call after him: Well, what did you expect? As far as he could make out James was refusing to move out of sight. Daniel was incredulous. Does he still believe this is all going to work out well?

  Robert was throwing stones too. It was glorious to be able t
o do something as dramatic as this: pick a stone, push back his arm over his head and then hurl it as hard as he could. He experienced a delicious freedom in releasing the small rock. He was barely aware of his anger. His strongest feelings were not particularly directed at the Catholic king and his followers. No, sir! Robert blamed the church leaders, the aldermen and all the city elders for putting the people in this position. Gritting his teeth, he reasoned that King James had been bold enough to approach the gate because he was under the impression that Derry was about to be his. Damn Robert Lundy! He was the real enemy. Damn his soul to Hell!

  From the walls Daniel could see Adam Murray in the distance but his relief was small. He’s too late! Why couldn’t he have reached the city earlier?

  A figure dashed past Daniel. It was Colonel Whitney, waving his arms and yelling, ‘Cease firing! Cease firing!’ Nobody saluted him or moved aside to allow him through. He was one of them, a council member who wanted to surrender. Only when his passage was well and truly blocked did he realise what was happening. He roared, ‘Get out of my way!’

  Some of the men smirked openly while others asked him what he was doing.

  The colonel’s only option was to explain himself. ‘Lieutenant-Colonel Lundy and the others want the shooting stopped!’

  As if on cue the crowd below shouted once more, ‘No surrender!’

  Looking for the nearest thing to a friendly face, Colonel Whitney spied Henry Campsie. The colonel had attended Mayor Campsie’s funeral and had shaken the boy’s hand. Now he asked the former mayor’s son, ‘Did someone discharge a rifle at King James?’

  Henry didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes, Colonel. I did!’

  The colonel was stumped and stared at the boy in front of him.

  Henry added, ‘I had no choice.’

  Colonel Whitney profoundly disagreed. ‘But what if you had hit the king? You might have started an all-out war, one we’re nowhere near ready for. What were you thinking, lad?’

  Henry idled, allowing Robert to speak up and defend his friend’s actions. ‘Henry did what he felt was necessary. They were coming at us from two sides and there was no one here to tell us any differently.’

  The colonel shook his head and turned back towards the steps. It did not escape his notice that Adam Murray’s army was about a mile away and coming fast. The beleaguered officer mumbled something to himself that nobody but Daniel could hear. ‘God help us all!’ The colonel’s words chilled Daniel to the bone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Adam read the note that was handed to him:

  You should immediately withdraw your

  men to the back of the hill out of sight

  of the city!

  He asked the messenger, James Murray, a cousin of his from his father’s side of the family, ‘I don’t understand. Why must I move out of sight?

  James grinned. ‘Because, my dear cousin, your little band of merry men is making Governor Lundy and the elders anxious regarding their desire to surrender. The sight of you lot coming to our rescue might well confuse the Jacobites. And they can’t be having that, now, can they?’

  Adam blanched. ‘Are they that close to unlocking the gates?’

  James nodded. ‘That’s the official message from the War Council. Now let me give you the unofficial message. Ignore all that rubbish about hiding. I can tell you here and now that the people are behind you. You need to get to Derry as fast as your horse can carry you because it’s widely believed that you’re the man to stand up to both the council and the Jacobites!’

  Adam couldn’t help asking, ‘Really?’

  James nodded. ‘Your name is on everyone’s lips. Godspeed!’

  Adam, along with forty of his men, was obliged to try to dodge the Jacobites who had been forced back from the gate. As soon as the Jacobites saw them, they fired some musket balls after them but failed to hit anyone. Adam was grateful for the fact that he and his men were on horseback and could easily sprint out of range of the rifles. He was also inclined to believe that the Catholic soldiers were not allowed to start a war just yet.

  Finally, they arrived at Ship Quay Gate, which was locked. Adam rattled it, bringing two guards to ask him his business. This was not the welcome he had expected. Where was his cousin now when he needed him?

  Feeling a little awkward, Adam asked to be allowed inside. He didn’t know the guards and so did not know that they supported Lieutenant-Colonel Lundy with his fears of a vengeful King James. They refused to unlock the gate, merely stating, ‘We have our orders!’

  However, one of them did ask if Adam had special permission to enter the city. This was frustrating. The only official letter Adam had was the one telling him to stay clear of the city. He said, ‘I’ve been told the people are expecting me. My name is Adam Murray.’

  The guards remained unimpressed. ‘What people?’

  By this stage Adam wasn’t entirely sure himself.

  Just then, two younger guards appeared. Adam was relieved to see that he recognised them: one of them was James Morrison, the other the physician’s son, Daniel Sherrard. ‘Colonel Whitney wants you two at Bishop’s Gate to report on James and the army there. Give us your keys, we’re to replace you.’

  Once the two guards were on their way, James unlocked the gates and ushered in Adam and his soldiers. Adam shook his and Daniel’s hand and kept moving, although he was unsure as to what he was going to do next.

  He got down from Pegasus, telling his men to stow away the horses at one of the stables. ‘We don’t want to attract attention just yet.’ The words had only left his mouth when he heard his name called from all directions: ‘Look, it’s Adam Murray!’ They came and kept coming, men, women and children, wanting to shake his hand and welcome him back. His soldiers stuck closely to him in case of trouble. Adam had never experienced anything like this before. Their trust in him was touching, but it came, he knew, with immense expectations and responsibility.

  They all moved together towards the Diamond, Adam and his men enclosed by the crowd of well-wishers. Adam kept a discreet look-out for Lundy, Reverend Walker or any of the council members who would dispute his presence in the city. On reaching the Diamond, he felt he should address the crowd and hoped his voice sounded strong and confident. ‘I give you my word that I will fight for you, this city and the Protestant faith!’

  How they cheered! Adam was relieved; he had never spoken to so many people at once before. Their belief in him moved him to add, ‘I also pledge my assistance to suppressing the War Council and their talks of surrendering to the Catholic king!’

  The people roared in gratitude and relief. Adam was exactly what they needed, a bright light in the fog of confusion that had recently descended on the city.

  He needed to know who was with him. From now on he could afford to take nothing or no one for granted. Thinking fast, he spoke again, ‘My friends, I must ask you to show your colours. Any man or woman who is prepared to fight with me must wear a white cloth on your arm. We need to know who is on our side.’

  He had no problem warning them, ‘What I’m asking isn’t easy. You’ll be wearing your defiance of the elders on your sleeve for all to see.’

  Not one person faltered in their enthusiasm for him. Soldiers amongst the crowd showed their support with the brilliance of their smiles and their swords raised over their heads. Daniel and the others added their voices to the cheering, although Daniel fancied that Henry looked a little put out. His moment of glory was over now that Adam Murray was here.

  Daniel breathed in the happiness around him and studied Adam as a leader, silently concluding, they like him because he’s not afraid and doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him.

  A soldier pushed through to Adam and told him that he was to make his way to the Council Chamber. ‘Lieutenant-Colonel Lundy and the others are waiting to speak to you.’

  Adam nodded as if he had been expecting the invitation. As he entered the Chamber, all heads turned at the sound of his footsteps. There was no t
ime for small talk or introductions.

  Lundy accosted him immediately. ‘Why are you here? What grievance has brought you here?’

  Slightly overawed at having so many eyes upon him, along with the richness of the council members’ clothes and the fact they were all seated, leaving him alone to stand as if he were on trial like a common thief, Adam found himself confronting Lundy with the people’s accusations. ‘You must know, sir, the suspicions about you and your attentions; suspicions that have been raised by your own behaviour.’

  Lieutenant-Colonel Lundy opened his mouth to say something, but Adam rushed to continue, ‘I’m here at the invitation of the people. They do not want the city surrendered!’

  He allowed Lundy his chance to reply, but it was a wasted opportunity as the lieutenant-colonel chose to focus on being insulted. ‘Suspicions?’ he asked. Obviously unable to get past this he repeated it again. ‘Suspicions?’

  Adam felt his insides burn. Was he really meant to soothe Lundy’s feelings while the Jacobites were just outside the gate? ‘Do I have to point it out for you, sir, that decisions like refusing to allow ammunition to be given to our soldiers or refusing to lead a willing army into battle encourages people to question your allegiance? Are you truly that naïve?’

  Adam was obliged to take a moment to steady himself. It would not do to be thrown into jail for insubordination. When he was ready to speak again, he tried for a more respectful tone. ‘Sir, please, I would beg of you: take to the fields and fight the enemy. Your soldiers are more than ready to follow you.’

  The lieutenant-colonel did not seem the least bit troubled. Adam could see that the man’s mind was already made up and long before his arrival.

  ‘Mr Murray,’ Lundy heaved out a deep breath, ‘you are not thinking clearly. No doubt, the mob outside see things as simply as fighting the army, easily winning and then we and the Prince of Orange will live happily ever after.’

  Getting to his feet, the lieutenant-colonel approached Adam, man to man, wanting to reason with him. By all accounts this was the young officer he had to win over in order to gain the crowd’s trust. ‘What if we win this battle, Mr Murray? What if we all go out right now and confront the king and his army? What if we trounce them good and solid, maybe send King James running for his life?’