crowd roared once more: ‘Long live William of Orange; long live Protestants everywhere!’
The Redshanks were understandably startled. Daniel could make out men jumping to their feet, naturally wondering if they were under attack. However, they seemed even more confused when the sound of a cannon firing was not followed up by an explosion of some sort, with a cannonball smashing into a tree or landing somewhere in the middle of them, to wound or kill. But there was nothing of the sort. Could they hear the cheering from the city? Daniel couldn’t believe that the tumultuous noise was not being flown across the river by the choppy breeze.
James got carried away, as he was wont to do. He did his best to hide what he was doing but Daniel was standing right next to him and could plainly see he was loading his rifle. ‘Er …?’ mumbled Daniel but James was too caught up to hear him. Daniel shrugged to himself. He won’t dare fire it . He was wrong. James had been waiting a long time to do this; that was how he explained it to himself. Besides, he couldn’t actually inflict any damage on anyone; they were too far away. Really, the gunshot was simply a nice accompaniment to the cannon fire.
Below them the butcher, Mr Cook, was assembling his own version of an army. Boys, about fifty of them, surrounded him and then followed him to the gate. Peoplewere laughing and pointing. ‘Let’s go tell those scallywags that they can bugger off back to wherever they came from!’ The butcher raised his hairy fist in the air, and his boys cheered in delight. The gate was unlocked and out they poured, not a gun between the lot of them, only heart and comradeship. Mr Cook started the chanting, ‘You miserable Papists scoundrels, get going while you still can!’ The lads took up the call and repeated it, along with the most flamboyant of insults.
Daniel and James watched the Redshanks begin to stir in earnest. What was going on? Cannon fire, gunfire and now it looked like they were going to be attacked. They couldn’t see that the butcher’s warriors were young, unarmed and much too giddy to hurt them. Daniel was sure he heard the words ‘Run for it!’ For a moment he thought it meant that the army was going to run towards the city and Mr Cook’s army. However, much to his amazement and relief, it meant run in the opposite direction, away from Derry. It was a while before it sank in, what they were doing: these towering giants were running away . And what a magnificent sight it was to behold. James bellowed in his ear, ‘We’ve scared them off!’ The two friends hugged one another as Derry rejoiced. There was more cheering, more backslapping, with lots of people who hadn’t done anything being lavished with congratulations.
James went to reload his rifle, but Daniel spoke up this time. ‘Oh, there’s no need for that. You’d be wasting gunpowder!’ James was forced to agree with this, especially on spotting Reverend Gordon climb the walls to see the Jacobites in disarray. He didn’t doubt that the reverend meant what he said about having him locked up if he ever endangered the city again.
Meanwhile, a couple of miles away, Gabriel Murray heard echoes in the air. God above , he thought. Is the city under attack? Something told him it wasn’t cries of anguish he was hearing. He didn’t feel tempted to go and check it out. His horse was as old as he was, in horse years at least. They only made the most necessary of journeys.
Sometime later, his dog began to complain. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ Gabriel asked. These days the dog normally held his peace beyond a guttural growl or two. He was more like a shadow than an animal. Something was up alright. Gabriel watched him stretch his snout up and sniff the wind before emitting a brief torrent of barks that lost their sharpness. Gabriel teased him for not finishing his sentences properly, ‘Do you realise you only say “Woo!” instead of “Woof!”?’
His
The Redshanks were understandably startled. Daniel could make out men jumping to their feet, naturally wondering if they were under attack. However, they seemed even more confused when the sound of a cannon firing was not followed up by an explosion of some sort, with a cannonball smashing into a tree or landing somewhere in the middle of them, to wound or kill. But there was nothing of the sort. Could they hear the cheering from the city? Daniel couldn’t believe that the tumultuous noise was not being flown across the river by the choppy breeze.
James got carried away, as he was wont to do. He did his best to hide what he was doing but Daniel was standing right next to him and could plainly see he was loading his rifle. ‘Er …?’ mumbled Daniel but James was too caught up to hear him. Daniel shrugged to himself. He won’t dare fire it . He was wrong. James had been waiting a long time to do this; that was how he explained it to himself. Besides, he couldn’t actually inflict any damage on anyone; they were too far away. Really, the gunshot was simply a nice accompaniment to the cannon fire.
Below them the butcher, Mr Cook, was assembling his own version of an army. Boys, about fifty of them, surrounded him and then followed him to the gate. Peoplewere laughing and pointing. ‘Let’s go tell those scallywags that they can bugger off back to wherever they came from!’ The butcher raised his hairy fist in the air, and his boys cheered in delight. The gate was unlocked and out they poured, not a gun between the lot of them, only heart and comradeship. Mr Cook started the chanting, ‘You miserable Papists scoundrels, get going while you still can!’ The lads took up the call and repeated it, along with the most flamboyant of insults.
Daniel and James watched the Redshanks begin to stir in earnest. What was going on? Cannon fire, gunfire and now it looked like they were going to be attacked. They couldn’t see that the butcher’s warriors were young, unarmed and much too giddy to hurt them. Daniel was sure he heard the words ‘Run for it!’ For a moment he thought it meant that the army was going to run towards the city and Mr Cook’s army. However, much to his amazement and relief, it meant run in the opposite direction, away from Derry. It was a while before it sank in, what they were doing: these towering giants were running away . And what a magnificent sight it was to behold. James bellowed in his ear, ‘We’ve scared them off!’ The two friends hugged one another as Derry rejoiced. There was more cheering, more backslapping, with lots of people who hadn’t done anything being lavished with congratulations.
James went to reload his rifle, but Daniel spoke up this time. ‘Oh, there’s no need for that. You’d be wasting gunpowder!’ James was forced to agree with this, especially on spotting Reverend Gordon climb the walls to see the Jacobites in disarray. He didn’t doubt that the reverend meant what he said about having him locked up if he ever endangered the city again.
Meanwhile, a couple of miles away, Gabriel Murray heard echoes in the air. God above , he thought. Is the city under attack? Something told him it wasn’t cries of anguish he was hearing. He didn’t feel tempted to go and check it out. His horse was as old as he was, in horse years at least. They only made the most necessary of journeys.
Sometime later, his dog began to complain. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ Gabriel asked. These days the dog normally held his peace beyond a guttural growl or two. He was more like a shadow than an animal. Something was up alright. Gabriel watched him stretch his snout up and sniff the wind before emitting a brief torrent of barks that lost their sharpness. Gabriel teased him for not finishing his sentences properly, ‘Do you realise you only say “Woo!” instead of “Woof!”?’
His
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