Right at that moment he found himself missing poor old Horace. His dog would have loved this, going for a walk in the dead of night with all these comrades in arms. Also, Daniel knew that Horace would not have allowed any harm to come to him.
In those few minutes Daniel missed his dog more than he had ever missed anyone in his entire life.
Robert checked his brother was right behind him but he wasn’t making any promises to look after him. Well, he would do his best to protect him, but Robert intended to be busy dealing with the enemy. How wonderful it was to get out of the city, to take control and make something happen. It was now that Robert truly understood why Adam Murray had done what he did, risking lives to shoot up one trench in the hope of sending men scattering to the winds. Glancing back at the walls, he appreciated their protection but they did make him feel like he was locked up and hidden away from the world.
It was too early for birdsong, too early for that fresh smell of morning that includes every blade of grass, every leaf on the trees and clods of earth. Nothing had a distinctive scent at this hour, although maybe that was because the Williamites’ noses were too full of the city’s stench.
Henry’s thoughts were of death – not his, but of the Jacobites he was about to kill. He smiled to himself as he thought of how he was going to waken them from one sleep in order to put them to sleep again forever. They wouldn’t even have time to realise that those waking moments were the last they would ever have.
The captain, one of Adam’s friends, instructed his group to stop when they were about twenty feet from the walls, in order to load their rifles. Those with flintlock rifles moved to the front to use their bodies as walls for their comrades with the old-fashioned matchlock rifle so that the telltale glow of the burning rope that would light the gunpowder could not be seen.
How loud their footfall sounded in Daniel’s ears, though he could hear something else – snoring. Nobody knew exactly how many Jacobites were asleep in the trench or how many would be keeping watch. Therefore, it was important to act fast once they were in firing range. Of course Henry and Robert claimed the newer flintlocks, obliging Daniel to take his usual spot behind them.
Making sure his brother blocked him, Daniel shook out his burning rope from beneath his cloak and, pulling back the small hammer of his musket rifle, he set the rope into it, relieved to see the gunpowder spark.
There was a shout from the trench. ‘Halt! Who goes there?’
It was the signal to go, and the front line did, sprinting hard. Daniel ran too, keeping behind Robert. He hardly knew where he was and was almost deafened by his own breathing and thumping heart. The heavy gun suddenly felt like butter in his hand. Please God, don’t let me drop it! As if he hadn’t enough to worry about.
He narrowly missed crashing into Robert when the front line came to a sudden stop, raised their muskets and took aim at the dense mass in front of them. This was the plan; they would fire first, and then those with the matchlocks would step out from behind them and shoot. By the time they had finished the front line’s flintlocks would be ready to fire again.
Daniel forgot the one thing that Robert had told him. ‘Remember to close your eyes when you pull the trigger!’
You see, because it was so dark, his old rifle was going to light up like a torch for just a second or two before the musket ball shot out in search of something soft to plough into.
But Daniel had so much to think about and, furthermore, he found he was not prepared for the confusion.
Over a hundred Williamites bellowed their arrival and their guns sounded out like firecrackers, exploding every few seconds. Once they had been fired, the guns smouldered like campfires.
Daniel couldn’t make out the smoke in the darkness but it caught the back of his throat and made his eyes water. It didn’t matter if he coughed now.
Not surprisingly, the Jacobites were in complete chaos. Hundreds of men were shouting in real panic as they woke up to find themselves in the most dangerous situation: packed close in rows, in a deep trench and now having to find their rifles and try to load them in the dark. There were already plenty of screams, suggesting the success of Derry’s front line in finding targets.
Now that Robert and Henry were behind him, the way was clear for Daniel to shoot. He raised his heavy rifle, pulled the trigger and was immediately blinded.
‘AAGH,’ he shrieked. No, no, how could I have been so stupid? Half-blind, he stumbled backwards, knowing that he had to start preparing to shoot once more.
Bodies pushed by him, presumably Robert and Henry. Sure enough, he heard Henry snarl, ‘You little fool!’
Daniel didn’t need his sight to know that this was directed at him.
I can do this! I can do this! He reached down with a shaking hand, to feel for the bag of gunpowder that was tied to his belt, vaguely aware that he was drenched in sweat. The constant shouting and shooting assailed his ears. Another round of bullets soared into the trench, adding to the mayhem. Men could be heard crying out, ‘I’m hit! I’m hit!’
Daniel dropped the bag and reached for it again, wondering if it was really dark or if he was still blinded from the first gunshot. Somebody tripped over him. ‘Sorry!’ Daniel gasped as the man grunted something appalling.
Again, Henry was in his ear. ‘Forget it. Just move. Charge!’
The running began again and ended just as abruptly. Daniel and the others jumped into the trench, landing on the bodies of Jacobite soldiers, who had, in some cases at least, managed to find swords, pikes or empty guns to hit out with. He lost sight of the other two and, just for a solitary second, was unsure what to do next. Nothing had prepared him for this, but he couldn’t just stand there, hoping to live.
There was a movement to his right; a voice, foreign, exclaimed as something swiped the air just in front of Daniel’s nose. Before he could engage the Jacobite officer, a figure pushed by him, knocking him over on top of someone else. Daniel peered and recognised the man’s attacker – and his saviour – as Henry, who swung hard with his rifle, cracking it against the officer’s skull.
Where was Robert?
Daniel couldn’t see his brother and now he too had to lash out at whoever he had fallen onto. Somehow he found the room to lift his gun over his head and bring it down on the back of the soldier who was having difficulty finding his own feet in all the turmoil. He hit him as hard as he could; only thinking that if he paused he’d be killed.
Meanwhile, Henry was swallowed up in the rage he had barely contained behind the walls. It all tumbled out now, onto the Jacobite officer’s head, again and again, long after the man stopped begging for mercy and the air around tasted of his blood.
‘Run! Run!’
Well, they all understood those words, Williamites and Jacobites.
Daniel wondered who they were for until he saw who proved obedient with their response.
But what else could the Jacobites do? There was no time to collect themselves and put up a decent fight. If they stayed put, they were going to be bludgeoned, stabbed or – if they were lucky – shot at point blank range. There was nothing the Jacobites could do except climb the hell out of the trench and retreat as fast as they could.
The Jacobite officer responsible for screaming ‘Run!’ probably did not realise what a terrific idea that was. Run! It was brilliant, perfect even. Because once the initial rush wore off those underfed Williamites, their slender bodies reminded them that they were lacking in their normal strength and speed. The one thing they could not do was give chase. It was impossible.
Undoubtedly the Derrymen had won the battle for this particular trench; within minutes it was theirs, leaving only wounded, dying and dead Jacobites, but perhaps they could have won so much more if only they had been able to pursue the fleeing enemy all the way back to their cattle.
But they couldn’t; they simply couldn’t.
As it was, most of the Williamite men were forced to take a rest amongst the blood and the corpses in order
to be able to get back to the city. As they struggled to recover some strength they could hear the cattle in the distance, but they were too far away for the soldiers’ tired limbs.
When the raiding party was ready, they slowly collected what they could: weapons, prisoners, clothing and bits of food. Once the bodies had been stripped of anything that might be useful, they were used as stepping stones to get back out of the trench.
Just like the rest of his fellow soldiers, Daniel stood on heads, shoulders and legs and didn’t allow it to bother him in the slightest.
He led Henry by the arm or else he would have been left behind. Henry never said a word or made an attempt to wipe the blood from his eyes. The soldier he had attacked no longer resembled a human being, such were his horrific injuries. Daniel looked away in distaste. As far as he was concerned, Henry, for those few moments, had gone quite mad. There was no other explanation for it. The man was dead long before Henry stopped hitting him. In any case, there wasn’t a sound out of him as Daniel roughly pushed and pulled him until they reached the top of the trench. On the one hand Daniel hated him for sneering at him for forgetting to close his eyes, but on the other hand Henry had probably saved his life.
The gust of wind was a delicious treat. Daniel would have preferred to stand there for a bit and allow it to cool him down. Robert appeared beside him, shaming Daniel into admitting to himself that he had completely forgotten about him.
Robert whispered, ‘Is he okay?’ – meaning Henry.
Daniel shrugged. He was too exhausted for conversation.
Nobody spoke on the walk back. Daniel felt like he had left Derry hours ago. The warriors trudged through Ship Quay Gate to be met by a crowd hopeful for spoils. They had watched the action from the walls though the darkness had made it difficult to see much. Still, they knew that their men had proved victorious.
There was just the small matter of the herd of Jacobite cows still out there, tucked away from all harm.
Nevertheless, the atmosphere was almost jolly. Rumours flew about that between one and two hundred enemy soldiers had been killed. Meanwhile, the Jacobite prisoners were locked up and told they could look forward to being hungry for the foreseeable future.
Mr Sherrard came out to see his sons. He didn’t recognise them immediately, which shook him, yet he managed to hide his dismay at the changes in them, reminding himself that hunger alone would make them look older and wilder.
He greeted them with an explanation. ‘Your mother was worried.’
Robert sneaked him some biscuits he had liberated from a dead red coat. All food was to be handed into the authorities for them to share out again.
James Morrison found them too. The four of them – three Sherrards and James – instinctively formed a protective circle around Henry who seemed unable to understand he was home.
As they stood there, a discussion erupted about the Jacobite cows. For some, the dream of beef stew was not extinguished just yet.
Someone said, ‘If only the stupid beasts would approach us themselves, without us having to go and fetch them.’
A spluttering of guffawing and name-calling greeted this unhelpful observation.
To his companions’ surprise, James had an idea. He had missed out on the fighting but he hadn’t given up on contributing to the night’s work. ‘Wait a minute!’
Daniel felt less than hopeful about whatever his friend might be about to propose.
James held up a skinny arm. ‘We still have one cow left, don’t we? What if we make it call out, you know, hurt it in some way? Mightn’t the others come running to help it?’
The thing was that everyone was desperate for a proper meal so when they heard this plan, instead of denouncing it as the most foolish plan they had ever heard, they slowly and gradually decided that it was better than no plan at all.
The Sherrards weren’t farmers and really hadn’t had much contact with cows but even they were not convinced that cows grazing several miles away would pay the slightest bit of attention to the cries of a stranger cow in distress.
James looked at the brothers, expecting to be complimented on his idea. Daniel was tongue-tied, while Robert sighed, muttering, ‘Well, I suppose it’s worth a try.’ He was only being polite but it was enough to encourage James to shout out again, ‘We’ll set our cow on fire. That should do it!’
Daniel couldn’t see the expression on his father’s face. He felt giddy as if he had stepped into some fantastic fairytale. Furthermore, he did experience a vague guilt for the poor animal that had helped sustain Derry’s infants, but what could he do? It seemed to him that, in times like these, animals had to die like soldiers. Besides, no one else seemed to doubt that James was making sense.
And so the cow was rudely woken up and led into the middle of the Diamond, where some fellows had hastily put together twigs and rags. She was positioned over the bundle and a post was knocked into ground, tying her into place. Sensing trouble, her ears were pointed as she looked warily about her, trying to sort out why she was nervous. Robert scratched his chin, while his father seemed surprised to find he was still standing there.
The fire was lit and the crowd waited. A few seconds passed before the animal realised that she was in trouble. She tried her best to step off the bundle, swishing her tail in alarm. Several impatient people turned towards the gate, hoping to see Jacobite cows demanding to be allowed through.
The flames flicked the cow’s belly, and she did start to bawl as it became increasingly impossible to keep her four legs out of the fire at the same time. She strained against the rope, trying to work out how to stop the pain. There was a strong smell of singed hair but still no thunderous roar of hooves from outside. In any case, the cow was not going to wait to be rescued. With an almighty shudder, she flung her head back and leapt into the air, ripping the post out of the ground, and made a run for it.
Not even James suggested a second attempt. People looked away from one another as if suddenly embarrassed for ever believing in such a foolish idea.
A peculiar sound punctured the awkwardness. Daniel saw Henry bend over, his entire body shaking as he appeared to be gulping for air. Was he choking? Mr Sherrard rushed to see if the boy was alright. There was a loud snort … of laughter. Henry could not catch his breath because he was laughing so hard. Tears rolled down his face and his shoulders heaved with the effort.
James Morrison suspected he was the cause of this undignified display and was much put out, pouting in such a way as to make Daniel and Robert join Henry. Even Mr Sherrard seemed to lose his anxiousness for those precious minutes as he watch the boys – minus James – laugh as if they were never going to stop.
Three evenings later, on 28 July 1689, a young Williamite was standing guard at the top of the St Columb’s tower, idly staring out over the Foyle, hardly remembering why he was there or what he was looking out for. His empty belly croaked miserably while his head ached from lack of sustenance, both liquid and solid.
That afternoon Governor George Walker had preached in the cathedral, telling the people, ‘God won’t let us down. He hasn’t kept us safe thus far to allow victory to be taken by the Papists. All He needs is for us to remain strong and devoted.’
A variety of parishioners sat before him, wanting desperately to believe his words.
Where were the ships? Why didn’t they come now?
This was the question on everyone’s lips. Despite the governor’s sermon, the population, or what remained of it, recognised that the end was near. Soldiers were dying in their hundreds every single day and nobody knew this better than Governor Walker. He was keeping count of the army deaths but had no idea how many civilians were succumbing to the rampant diseases and starvation.
Daniel and James were on the wall, with Daniel doing his best to hide his terror from his friend. James refused to go home and refused to lie down on the ground. Daniel offered his coat for a pillow. ‘But why won’t you just rest? I can keep watch alone. If anything happens I’ll
wake you. I promise.’
James was in a bad way. He had lost teeth while his face was drawn and a deathly grey. Daniel could clearly see his jawline. It made his chin jut out as if it had been carved from a sharp rock. Also he wheezed instead of breathing normally. ‘I’m fine,’ he gasped.
Daniel wanted to shake him. ‘No, you are not fine. Nobody is going to think any less of you for taking a break. We’re all suffering, you know, and you’re no different from anyone else.’
James looked hurt and shivered.
‘You see,’ pounced Daniel. ‘You are shivering but it is not that cold. That means you’re not well!’
He had to wait for James to stop coughing in order to issue a threat. ‘James Morrison, if you do not lie down for a few minutes I will never talk to you again. I promise you that much!’
Resting a thin hand on Daniel’s arm, James whispered, ‘Yes, Mother!’
Daniel laughed in spite of himself before removing his coat and bundling it on the ground, just a few feet from where he stood. ‘Go on, lie down there like a good boy. I’ll wake you up in a bit.’
He had to help James to lie down and then stepped quickly back to the wall.
‘Daniel?’
‘Oh, God! What now? Will you just go to sleep?’ He was pretending to be annoyed.
‘Thanks!’
Daniel glanced around. ‘For what? For lending you my coat or for having to put up with you?’
He couldn’t see James’s face properly but he heard him murmur, ‘For everything!’
There was gunshot in the distance, but it was impossible for Daniel to see where it was coming from. He expected to be grilled by his friend on its origins but James had fallen into a sound sleep.
Behind the Walls Page 23
