Behind the Walls (12 page)

Outside Derry, a mile or so away, a disheartened and deeply disappointed king sat astride his tired horse, drenched through and bleak in figure. His advisors stood by, whispering. Blissfully ignorant of the bewilderment and pity surrounding him, James stared at the walled city in silence.
How had it come to this?
His body ached from the damp and the cold – and, yes, from the shock too. That young lad, the trumpeter, how proud he had been when his king beckoned him to his side. James felt genuine sorrow.
It was the most important moment of the boy’s short life. He had died for his king.

It didn’t occur to James that the people of Derry might be afraid of him, his soldiers and his religion. Instead, he dwelt on the personal attack.
How they hate me. Why couldn’t they have let me in and hear what I had to say? Well, I can do nothing more for them now. If they refuse to listen, that is that.

A gentle voice called to him, ‘Sire?’

James gazed around, past Avaux, the owner of the voice, at the army of men behind him, all soaking wet and wondering why they were still there, neither making camp nor moving on. He closed his eyes for a moment and knew in his heart that it was time to go. Both the lord lieutenant and his cousin, the French king, had warned him it might
come to this, but he had not wanted to listen to them.
How naïve I have been.
But, now, it was different; he was different. After listening to Derry’s population screaming their chorus of ‘No surrender!’ and dodging their bullets, his limit had been reached. Those proud citizens had left him no choice.
Now
he was bound to act like royalty. Giving the city a last, lingering look, he quietly asked, ‘How far is it to our camp at St Johnston?’

Avaux replied, ‘I believe it is about five miles from here, Your Majesty, in Donegal.’

King James sighed to himself and then said aloud, ‘Have the cannon brought to us there … and anything else that will be needed for the forming of a siege.’

Avaux barely hid his relief. ‘As you wish, Your Majesty!’

A few miles away, in his small, homely cottage, Gabriel Murray sniffed the air and informed his elderly dog, ‘Well, now, old friend. I think that something has finally begun! I just hope that Adam knows what he’s doing.’

Back in Derry, amid tentative celebrations for having seen off the Papist king, the governor had also reached his limits. Within hours of Adam walking out on him, Lieutenant-Colonel Lundy informed the council that he no longer wanted to be governor. Having seen himself through Adam’s eyes, he recognised that he would never make a difference to what was happening. He had no friends and no supporters, aside from the dutiful but cool
politeness shown to him by the politically ambitious old men of Derry.

The following day, and much to his surprise, Adam was invited back to the chamber to take part in the election for the new governor. As far as he was concerned, stepping down as governor was the first sensible thing that Lundy had done since his arrival. However, before he could make his vote Adam had to decline the governorship himself.

Reverend Walker smiled at the shocked expression on the young man’s face. ‘You have the crowd at your heel and your own soldiers who call you colonel. Surely you realise you are the obvious choice.’

Adam shook his head. ‘With respect, Reverend, I have no interest in politics. I’m just a soldier.’ He pretended not to notice that his response was met with barely contained relief by those who fancied themselves as leader of Derry.
Well, let them have it if it means so much to them
.

For himself he could only vote for those men who, as far as he knew, had not loudly clamoured to surrender the city nor tried to forge a close relationship with Lundy. And it seemed that others shared his opinion. The two most popular councillors proved to be Reverend George Walker and Major Henry Baker. Accordingly, the duo was elected as co-governors of the city, effective immediately. The two were fighting men who had not been favourites of the former governor and this was their reward.

Governors Walker and Baker welcomed a challenge and surely this was not going to be easy, to take over the running of a little city that was in constant danger of being squashed like an insect beneath one’s boot. Governor Walker was still very much an Anglican reverend, who in considering Derry’s position compared it to the Israelites standing in front of the Red Sea.

At God’s bidding, the prophet Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt, where they had been enslaved. The journey was treacherous and, it seemed, had come to an abrupt end when the refugees found themselves between their hot-tempered pursuers and the Red Sea. Naturally, they panicked, believing that they were well and truly caught. However, Moses begged them not to lose faith, telling them, ‘Be brave. God will save you. He’ll fight for you. Just wait and see!’

Chapter Seventeen

T
wo days after Governors Walker and Baker were sworn into office, Daniel woke up in confusion, unsure if the noise which had disturbed him had been part of a dream. Horace’s frantic barking soon convinced him that it wasn’t. Then a second crash sounded in the distance followed by a third.

The sight of Robert’s empty bed produced an awful shock until Daniel remembered he had the night shift on the wall. Pulling on his clothes, Daniel charged downstairs, where a trembling Horace was mightily relieved to see him.

The house shook with the next explosion. His parents were behind him, Alice still miraculously asleep in her mother’s arms.

‘What is it?’ Mrs Sherrard fought an urge to scream.

Her husband and son opened the front door and stood in silence until Mr Sherrard said, ‘It sounds like Ship Quay Street?’

Daniel nodded and said to his mother, ‘It’s alright. We’re safe here.’

They could hear screaming in the distance. Then the quiet street burst into action as neighbours piled outside to check that their houses weren’t in danger. There was a pause, so it seemed, when the sounds of many footsteps and shouts grew louder and louder. Mr Sherrard touched Daniel on the arm and they slid back inside the house, quietly shutting the door. Most of their neighbours copied them. Seconds later, their street was full again, this time with women, children, dogs, old men and women, half-trotting, half-running down the narrow street. Daniel and his parents watched from the small window. Panic distorted the already strange faces, the dogs barking madly as if the fires of Hell were upon them.

Horace started up again only to be smacked on the nose by Mrs Sherrard.

Mr Sherrard felt obliged to find out what was happening. Opening the front door, he called out, ‘What’s going on? What are you running from?’

An old man, who, for all his fright, seemed glad to ease himself to a temporary stop, gasped, ‘The Jacobites. They’re firing on the old houses on Ship Quay; the cannonballs are smashing right through the roofs all the way down to the ground floor.’

At this Mr Sherrard opened his door a little more, to call up the street, ‘Is anybody hurt?’ The man, doing his best to control his breathing, replied, ‘Don’t know, sir. None of
us hung around long enough to see.’ He felt the need to explain further, ‘We sleep on the street, you see. No room for us anywhere else!’

‘Of course, of course!’ said Mr Sherrard. What else could he say? He turned to his family and said, ‘I’m going to run over to see if anybody needs me!’

Daniel took his father’s place at the front door while the physician ran for his bag and coat.

In the street the old man nodded. ‘It’s a fine start to a Sunday morning, isn’t it? And it’s only the beginning.’

Daniel was curious. ‘The beginning? What do you mean?’

‘Aye, indeed,’ said the man. ‘Most folk around here have no idea what’s about to happen.’

Pulling the door closed behind him so his mother couldn’t hear, Daniel wished the old man would hurry up and say whatever he was about to.

‘You mark my words, young man; these explosions are nothing. The next time we hear them will be in the middle of the night and the next night and the night after that. The truth of the matter is we won’t be allowed to rest until this is all over. They are going to terrorise us with noise and bombardment.’

Of all people, Henry Campsie appeared at the man’s side. Daniel was somewhat shocked when Henry roughly pushed the man, causing him to cry out, ‘Oy, what’s the
meaning of this?’

Henry bared his teeth in a chilly grin. ‘I think, old man, that you are trying to scare us.’

Daniel blushed though he didn’t know why. Neighbours reappeared at their doors to watch. Henry’s fiery expression reminded Daniel of how Henry had looked just before he shot at King James. What was the sense in trying to intimidate a harmless old man? Daniel wanted to shout at Henry to leave the poor fellow alone but could not find the courage.

In confusion the man stepped away from Henry and turned to continue his journey to wherever he was going. However Henry had not finished with him yet and, instead, persisted, ‘Are you for King James, then?’

The man faltered. Was he bewildered to be asked such a question or was he terrified because he had been found out? He began to stammer, ‘What? No … I … I’m not!’

It was Mr Sherrard who saved him, urging him to keep walking the road. ‘Go on, Old Timer, best you go join your family and friends.’

Reeling from the glaring attention of Henry’s roughness and aggressive accusation, the man stumbled away, no doubt wishing he had never opened his mouth in the first place.

Henry watched the man’s retreat carefully in order to hide his annoyance at Daniel’s father. However, he felt it
was his duty to both explain his actions and warn Mr Sherrard, ‘We need to be aware that the city is infested with Jacobite sympathisers.’

Mr Sherrard fixed his coat and said lightly, ‘And perhaps he was just an old man who likes to talk!’

Henry’s expression was tight. ‘Yes, sir’. He tipped his hat in false agreement.

Daniel longed to say something to bridge the gap between his father and Henry but could think of nothing. Meanwhile, Mr Sherrard’s mind was on more important matters; he bid the boys farewell and headed off in the direction of the city’s broken houses.

Henry bit his lip and appeared deep in thought.

Finally, Daniel offered, ‘So, they have fired upon us?’

Henry snapped back into action. ‘Adam Murray is looking for men to join him in an attack on the army.’

Daniel murmured cautiously, ‘You mean, Colonel Murray.’

Henry answered impatiently, ‘That’s what I just said!’

Daniel didn’t bother to argue.

Across the river Foyle, to the north of Derry, the newly arrived lines of Jacobite tents straddled Pennyburn Hill. Apart from being an irritating eyesore, the tents represented the Jacobite army laying stake to good foraging territory. Standing on the part of the wall between Ship Quay and Butchers’ Gate, Colonel Adam Murray recognised that,
at the very least, this would cause a problem for Derry’s horses who needed to graze on the fresh grass outside the city’s walls.

Of course the situation was made infinitely worse due to the orders of the Jacobite French commander, Lieutenant-General Maumont. Adam clenched his jaw as he took in the acres of ruined land. The Frenchman had instigated what was called a ‘scorched earth’ policy to make sure that the people and animals of Derry had no hope of living off the land outside Derry. The smell of smoke had lingered for days and the guards on the wall could only watch in frustration as the Jacobites went about their work, burning crops and every piece of decent grass.

Adam also recognised that the Jacobites must be prevented from going into the nearby little village at Pennyburn. At present it was unoccupied by either side, but those tents blatantly signalled that the Jacobites were planning to do just that.

If the enemy took Pennyburn it would give them a useful vantage point over the city, not to mention it would be far too close for comfort. Adam knew he had to do something and that something would involve a fight. He sent out a call, asking for soldiers and horsemen to join him in the city’s first offensive.

The young officer could not overlook the fact that most of the soldiers available to him were recent recruits who
had never stood in battle. However, he reasoned that all they needed was experience, and as soon as possible.
We could lose a minor battle if needs be, if only we win the war.

‘Colonel Murray, they’re on the march.’ Robert Sherrard delivered this message, adding, ‘And they’re heading for Pennyburn village!’

It was the news Adam had been expecting and dreading. He scrunched up his features in annoyance until Robert gave him something to cheer him up. ‘About a thousand or so have answered your call to arms.’

‘That many?’ asked Adam, unable to keep the gratitude out of his voice.

Robert grinned. ‘Yes, sir, including myself. They are gathered at the Diamond awaiting further orders.’

Adam clapped the boy on the arm. ‘Come on, then. Let’s get to work!’

At the Diamond, Adam was warmed by the sight of so many volunteers and relieved to note the presence of quite a few horses too. A decent cavalry, he felt, was required for what he had in mind. Most of the men and boys were also carrying weapons of one sort or another. Someone must have managed to get rifles from the artillery store. He put up his hand for silence. ‘We need to be quiet and look as innocent as we can. What I mean is, once we go through the gate, we don’t want to worry the Jacobite lookout. Let them wonder where we are going and what we are doing.
It will give us time to reach them.

‘I need five hundred men with rifles to head out in small groups, and hide yourselves behind the bushes and trees that line both sides of the road to Pennyburn. Those with horses will come with me. We’ll lead the confrontation at the foot of the hill. Our task is to dominate the enemy’s attention for as long as we can. Meanwhile, the remaining infantry will wait until we are underway, to discreetly make your way to the high ground overlooking Pennyburn village.’

The men raised their rifles in quiet agreement, and Adam finished by saying to the foot soldiers, ‘Remember, do your best to look as if you have no special purpose in mind. We need to surprise them.’

And so it was that the first five hundred snuck out in little groups, making for the road to Pennyburn, quickly diving behind the bushes and trees. Those with horses followed Adam; they boldly took the path to Pennyburn, just a small party. Then, in their own good time, the second lot of five hundred sauntered out, vaguely heading for Pennyburn Hill, or so it seemed.

This was the guts of Derry’s defending army proudly watched over by those who stayed behind to man the walls. James Morrison was not impressed with being left behind.

On seeing the knotted lines in his friend’s forehead,
Daniel offered, ‘Our job is just as important.’

James pouted until Daniel remembered, ‘At least we have our own ammunition now!’ Well, that was certainly something. The soldiers and volunteers were finally allowed to defend their city properly, with bullets and cannon.

As the boys stood together, with the rest of the guards, they were joined by many civilians. This expedition – the first attempt to push back the Jacobites – was of huge interest to everyone living in Derry. Daniel found it necessary to plant his feet squarely on the ground so that he could not be pushed off his lookout spot. A group of fearsome-looking women were trying to nudge both him and James out of the way.

One of the women suddenly pointed and shouted, ‘They’ve seen them!’

James and Daniel watched as a band of Jacobite soldiers on horseback pounded down hard towards Adam and his cavalry.

Daniel was grateful that his family had never been able to afford a horse and that Robert had been one of those sent to hide behind bushes.

Just as Adam had assumed, the Jacobite soldiers on the hill spied the approach of the Williamite cavalry and quickly sent word for help.

There was a scuffle of footsteps to Daniel’s right which the boy determined to ignore until a man’s voice snarled,
‘Out of my way there!’ Governor Walker made the women shift over to give him enough room to stand beside Daniel. The young man couldn’t help the spurt of pride he felt in the governor’s choice of position.

‘Ah,’ sighed Walker. ‘Now let us see how our young colonel fares.’

Was this a compliment or a slight? Daniel didn’t have time to decide as just then the two Jacobite and Williamite horsemen came together in a sudden blend of red and black, and clumps of earth that were kicked up by so many hooves.

Muskets were raised and fired, causing inexperienced Derry horses to jolt and leap about, knocking into one another as their riders worked to steady them enough to remain within the fight. Swords swung out and, much to the onlookers’ delight, a couple of Jacobite red jackets toppled to the ground.

Adam chose his man after driving Pegasus through the ranks of the enemy, slashing at them with his sword. The rider in the centre of the Jacobite cavalry was obviously a high-ranking officer. His sleek black horse was better looking than the others while the man’s armour and bearing, including the crest on his wide-brimmed hat, pointed to his elevated position. On top of that, a grim-faced trumpeter rode alongside him, ready to issue orders with a tuneless blast.

When Adam heard the officer roar words unknown to him, he suddenly realised that he was facing Lieutenant-General Maumont, the man who had implemented the ‘scorched earth’ policy. If Adam had had time, he might have allowed himself to be impressed by the French commander presenting himself in battle instead of sending his men out to do his bidding. Well, it would be his duty to show the commander that he had made a dreadful mistake.

The lieutenant-general did Adam the honour of recognising him as the leader of the Williamites. With pointed swords both men simultaneously made their decision to charge at one another. Once the head of a monster is removed the body no longer knows what it is doing. Deafened by the sound of his own blood thundering in his ears, Adam hardly heard the sickening thud as the two horses crashed against one another.