The wind stepped up, alternating between dancing with and pummelling Governor Mitchelburne’s flag.
The young guard at the top of St Columb’s tower could hear the guns but could see no smoke. What’s going on? They had to be Jacobite guns, didn’t they?
Looking down, he could see people in the city slowly looking up at him or at the sky above, all engaged in listening to what sounded like a gun battle being carried by the wind. Perhaps it was even cannon fire. Over the next few minutes he watched as crowds of people made their way to the walls to peer out across the Foyle in expectation and in trepidation. The guard shrugged his shoulders, to show he knew as little as they did and then he looked again, and stared … and stared.
He saw them, mere seconds before everyone else: ships. Was he dreaming? No, the wind prevented him from sleeping on his feet. So, this was it, the ships, King William’s ships appeared like golden swans out of the gloom. The Jacobite cannon along the Foyle did its utmost to puncture holes in the vessels that looked so proud and dignified. One sailed ahead of the others and it was obvious that it had the dreaded boom in its sights.
On the walls Daniel shouted at people not to step on James. The crowd quickly spread down along the walls, blocking his view of his friend. Daniel reckoned that James would have had to get up, with all the noise and bustle, and had probably been carried farther down the ramparts by the sheer force of all the bodies pressed together. As the first ship sailed closer and closer Daniel trained his eyes to watch her progress.
The gunfire was deafening. The Jacobites on the banks were giving all they had while the sailors onboard returned fire. Black smoke hung in the evening air and the wind died down, as if it too wanted to watch the scene unfold.
Robert and Henry fought to move in beside Daniel as he did his best to make room for them. He allowed himself to look for James, noting that just about everybody must be gathered around him, all watching and praying for that good ship to blast through the Jacobite barricade in their river.
Daniel saw her name and read it aloud, the Mountjoy, in case anyone else needed to know it. Nobody thanked him because they were fixated on the sight of the Mountjoy charging that boom. She hit the chain but it did not break; instead it curved towards her with such force that it flung her back towards the east bank of the Foyle where she got stuck in shallow water. Women screamed while cheering could be heard from the Jacobites.
Robert gasped in horror at the sight of Jacobite soldiers running into the water, heading for the ship. ‘Oh no, they’re going to board her!’
The people of Derry could do nothing except watch and pray. Someone in the crowd began quietly to recite ‘Our Father who art in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name’, and people all over the walls joined in. Men, women and children. ‘Give us this day our daily bread.’
Some were overcome and wept openly. They were starving, weary civilians who, along with their soldiers, had faced hunger and violence, bombs and disease for one hundred and five days and, by now, all had lost someone dear to them. They leant against their city’s walls and watched those Jacobites gleefully tramp through the water, already calling out their threats to the sailors.
The captain onboard could be seen, sword in hand, cheering on his men. His arm was raised until the enemy soldiers were mere yards from his ship and then his arm slammed down, the signal to fire three cannons right into the centre of them. Derry watched as the bulk of those Jacobites fell back into the water, hardly knowing they were dead. This captain, whoever he was, was mourned by the stricken population as he too was caught by fire and toppled to the ground.
Now Mother Nature stepped in, the rising tide tipping the ship out of the shallow water and towards the boom once more. Not one person on the walls could release a cheer; instead there was a frozen silence as the Mountjoy made her approach again and, this time, she passed through, thanks to her first attempt which had weakened the chains. She was closely followed by the second ship, the Phoenix. Sometime later the third ship, the Darmouth, would make her appearance.
As soon as the guard on St Columb’s tower saw that the boom had been smashed, he fired his cannon in celebration, announcing to all and sundry that the siege was over.
Only then did the crowd give voice to their joy and relief. People wept in happiness, clasping one another, looking for their relatives and friends. The soldiers hugged one another and then turned to rush down to open Ship Quay Gate, ignoring the Jacobites who still continued to shoot because what else could they do?
Robert and Henry thumped each other and dragged Daniel in between them, tousling his hair and pushing him back and forth until he begged them to let him be. They couldn’t stop laughing and shouting and then Henry cried, ‘Come on, let’s go down to the river!’
They turned to run with Daniel following them until he remembered James. Where was he? Over the last few months, Daniel had had to listen to James over and over again, moaning about the fact that he had not helped to close the gates that day back in December. So he knew better than to run off and forget about him now.
‘James? James Morrison, where are you?’
Daniel looked all around him, expecting at any moment to see his familiar face. Other people made their way down to greet the sailors, who were still a while off yet. Daniel grew impatient as he remembered that the ships were bringing food, real food. He could hardly believe it. Oh, where is he? Maybe he has gone ahead and is already down by the Foyle.
No, there he was, exactly where he had left him.
‘James?’ Daniel burst out laughing; surely he had not slept through all the fun. Oh dear! I’m in trouble now after promising to wake him if anything happened.
‘James, you fool, wake up. It’s all over. We’re saved!’
Bending over him, Daniel saw the smile on his friend’s face, but although his eyes were open, they were completely still.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Having repaired his father’s trousers for the umpteenth time and stuffed himself on biscuits, Adam Murray got back on his horse, setting him off at a smart trot for Derry. It was a pleasant afternoon, the type that made one truly grateful to be alive. Adam breathed in the smell of the countryside, enjoying the sun’s warmth, and the wondrous peace. Birds twittered and sang, bees hummed and the multitudes of flies were their usual irritating selves.
All was as it should be.
It had taken a while to reach this point, but as Gabriel had assured him, ‘You’ll appreciate everything all the more now!’ As usual his father was right.
He visited Gabriel more than ever since the old dog died. His father wouldn’t hear of getting another one, sure that he wouldn’t be around himself for much longer. Adam didn’t bother to argue, suggesting that he could get a kitten instead. His father sniffed and said he’d think about it.
Adam waved to the farmers working in their fields. His horse sneezed and shook his head. He was a young horse, black with a white stripe on his snout. Gabriel had insisted on buying him after Pegasus was confiscated from his son by Major-General Kirke who had finally arrived with his ships of food and soldiers on 28 July, three days after the infamous ‘Battle of the Cows’. That was certainly a day to remember, with plenty of rejoicing and merriment. However, the celebration didn’t last too long as the major-general took charge, stamping out all opposition to his new rules and regulations, and thanking just about nobody for what they had done for the city.
Gabriel refused to indulge his son, merely asking him, ‘But what did you expect? Were you looking for glory?’
Adam shrugged. ‘I didn’t expect him to cut the army in half, leave us without wages, thus forcing our sick soldiers to have to beg for food and take my horse because he didn’t like me.’
His father was blunt. ‘You were too popular with too many followers.’
Adam stiffened. ‘Was that my fault?’
His father only smiled at this.
Of course the walls had been repaired and now looked the exact same as ever. Perhaps the only change
was that the gates were always open these days. There were rumblings elsewhere now, thanks to the French King Louis XIV pushing King James to try again for the English throne. But Derry was safe from trouble and that was the important thing.
Adam sought his father’s understanding if not his sympathy, saying: ‘It feels like I’m being punished for what I did. Surely you can understand that. I fought to keep the city free from the Papists, and so we did, enduring starvation until Kirke finally found the courage to break through the boom.’
Gabriel nodded. ‘Then just be happy with that. You know what you did, I know what you did and God above knows what you did.’
Adam smiled in response to various greetings, a much quieter entrance than the one he made over a year ago now, when people chanted his name and prepared to follow him to war. He had had his chance for more, of course. He could have been a governor of Derry but he had no interest in that. He still didn’t.
Then there was Reverend Walker’s book. His father had merely laughed when Adam told him that the reverend’s book made no mention of him, hardly describing anyone else’s achievements aside from his own and his parishioners’.
Adam fumed, ‘I hear it’s selling by the hundreds in England – his version of the truth about what happened.’
‘Write your own book!’ was Gabriel’s unhelpful response.
It was market day and the place was buzzing with all sorts. Young children ran about, getting in everyone’s way while cheerfully ignoring their mothers’ threats. The smell of fresh manure was strong, but it didn’t bother Adam in the slightest. He liked to see it and hear the mooing of the cows, bleating of goats and lambs and the excited barking of the dogs that ran riot, here, there and everywhere.
The butcher was sharpening his knives and calling out his wares to the housewives whose attention were caught by the fishmonger and the candle-maker.
In the distance Adam spied Mr Sherrard and quickened his pace to catch up with the physician. As usual, Mr Sherrard produced some sugar from his pocket for Adam’s horse who nuzzled him in gratitude.
‘Well, Adam, how are you on this fine day?’
Adam grasped his hand warmly. ‘As well as can be. It is really busy today, isn’t it?’
Mr Sherrard shrugged. ‘Isn’t it always? How is Gabriel?’
‘Oh, the same as ever. He’s like these walls, he’ll never change!’
Mr Sherrard laughed. ‘But you wouldn’t want him to change, would you?’
Adam said nothing to this and searched for another topic. Mrs Sherrard had never been the same since the trouble though Mr Sherrard had confided that he did expect her to get better when she was ready: ‘All that hunger and worry took its toll on her system.’ She never left the house now, not even to go to church. There were dark days when she didn’t leave her bed. From time to time Adam called in to see how she was but only when she asked for him.
‘How are the boys?’
‘You mean, the men,’ corrected Mr Sherrard with a smile. He sighed.
Adam waited politely.
‘Ah, they’re fine, don’t mind me. They are set on army life and this morning told us that they will be leaving shortly to fight for King William.’
‘Father, Mr Murray!’
Adam turned and joked, ‘I think you’ve gotten even taller. What are they feeding you?’
Daniel blushed. He was still his father’s youngest son though he looked and felt a lot older since the day he helped closed the gates against the Redshanks.
‘Father, you’ve to buy more candles. Alice ate another one and Mother is beside herself.’
Mr Sherrard tutted, ‘Oh dear, not again. I’d best be off, Adam. If I don’t act now, I’ll forget all about it and then I’ll really be in trouble!’
Adam and Daniel watched him hurry away, the tail of his coat flapping behind him.
Daniel said, ‘He’s more afraid of Mother than of anyone else.’
Adam asked, ‘I hear you and Robert are leaving Derry?’
‘Father told you!’ said Daniel. ‘Yes, there are a few of us going. My brother Robert, Henry Campsie and some other friends of ours. We owe that much to King William and, well, it’s important to take a stand … as you know yourself, sir.’
Adam was surprised when Daniel blushed some more and admitted, ‘The truth is you have inspired me to do this. I never saw myself as a soldier before last year, but I learned from you that it can be a noble and even holy calling. You taught me to care about what’s important.’
Adam bowed his head in thanks, and Daniel shyly asked, ‘Do you wish you could come with us?’
‘Oh,’ said Adam, ‘I don’t know. My legs don’t work as well as they used to and, to be honest, I think I gave all the fight I had in me during the siege. I have other things to focus on now.’
Daniel nodded. ‘Of course, sir. I hear you’re about to be married. May I offer my congratulations?’
‘Of course you may!’ said Adam. ‘So, last I heard, James and his cousin’s army are stopping off in Dublin for a bit. Do you know where King William wishes to confront him?’
Daniel scrunched up his face to think. ‘Some place near the town of Drogheda.’
Adam nodded. ‘And you are sure this is what you want to do?’
He wondered if the young boy was just blindly following his older brother. Daniel had seemed a world apart from Robert; at least that’s what Adam had always felt.
And, for a moment, Daniel did look slightly unsure of the question and how to answer it. ‘I am scared, if that’s what you mean.’
Adam was going to protest but Daniel continued, ‘A lot of people died during the siege, including one of my best friends, James Morrison, I don’t know if you remember him, but I’m still here and I can’t help thinking that James would relish joining William’s army. So, I’m doing it because he can’t.’
Daniel stopped to collect his thoughts. This was a conversation he hadn’t been able to have with anyone else.
‘It’s just that if the Jacobites win it will all have been for nothing: all those deaths, all that starvation, it would be forgotten about and judged to have been a waste of time.’ He swallowed and reached out to pat Adam’s horse. ‘We lost so much, all of us, but as long as King William rules, there is a point to it.’
Adam gazed at the boy in earnest, saying, ‘My word, Daniel. You’re absolutely right. All that trouble with Major-General Kirke after he took over Derry, I don’t mind telling you that I questioned why I ever got involved in the first place. But now I remember, thanks to you.’
Daniel glowed under the unexpected praise. ‘Well, thank you, sir. I … I’d better be going, now. I promised to visit James’s mother today and tell her all the news. She doesn’t like me to be late.’
Adam shook the boy’s hand and prayed that God would keep him safe, watching him until he disappeared around the corner.
He stood for a while longer, thinking that he really should be getting on with his own business too; he had plenty to do before he visited his fiancée’s house. Gabriel’s new trousers would be ready for collection. Ignoring his father’s lack of interest in this particular topic, Adam had determined to buy him new clothes for the wedding.
The city was pumping with life and colour and Adam enjoyed the bedlam around him. It was difficult to remember how things had been last summer, when everything seemed to be dying, including Derry herself. But here she was, still standing and stronger than ever: the walls, the gates, St Columb’s Cathedral, the river Foyle – and, of course, the people too, who hadn’t surrendered in the most horrible of situations. They had all proved themselves immovable in the fantastic storms of 1688–89. Most of the streets had been repaired while there was yet work to be done to replace the broken houses, but it would be done in its own good time. There would always be work needing to be done which was a comforting thought in itself.
It would seem that the angel in the sky that night had been a positive message. Even Mrs Sherrard, on a good day
, agreed with him on that matter though he suspected she had never believed in his vision. She went so far as to say, ‘I think we see what we want to see, what we need to see. Maybe that’s how God answers our prayers.’
Adam thought about that for ages after. Was it the angel who helped him find the hero or courage within himself? After all, he had only ever been a farmer and a dutiful son. And all Derry had been was a small town behind a big wall. The eyes of the world had watched her defy a royal army – one that was superior in number and experience – in her own peculiar way. It was a fantastic achievement.
‘So,’ his father had finally asked him, his eyes twinkling with mischief, ‘was it worth it then? Would you do it all over again if you had to?
Adam’s answer was absolute. ‘Yes. Yes, I would! Of course I would.’
That evening, at the Sherrards’ house, Robert asked, ‘Well, are you ready? You know you take longer than a woman to pack a bag.’
Daniel stuck out this tongue and gave his rifle a last spit and polish. ‘I met Adam Murray this afternoon. He says he’s not sure whether he’d come with us or not.’
Robert shrugged and studied his brother’s face, pretending he hadn’t seen Horace’s collar being shoved into the bag. He also recognised James Morrison’s old and battered rifle that was being scrubbed within an inch of its life. He felt his heart dip and said quietly, ‘And what about you, Dan, are you sure?’
Daniel wouldn’t look at him, not until he was sure that his face showed no doubt. He nodded eventually, adding, ‘I’m doing this for lots of different reasons. Don’t worry, I’ve thought long and hard about it. And I don’t like leaving Father to cope with everything but …’
Robert smiled. ‘But?’
Daniel continued, ‘But you’ll be with me and that makes it alright.’
When Robert said nothing to this Daniel looked up just in time to see the emotion in his brother’s expression. They both shrugged in defeat, each wiping the tears from their eyes and then grinning, just like they did when they were mischievous little boys running in circles around their mother who could never catch them.
Behind the Walls Page 24
