Behind the Walls (23 page)

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Authors: Nicola Pierce

BOOK: Behind the Walls
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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.

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
.

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