The younger and more ardent spirits were for resistance to the last.

“Better,” they said, “die of hunger, than surrender the Protestant stronghold to the Papists.”

Every hour brought crowds of fugitives, the inhabitants of all the villages deserting their homes at the approach of the royal forces, and flying, with what goods they could carry, to Derry.

Archdeacon Hamilton had arrived with a message from the king, offering that if the city would, within four days, surrender, there should be an amnesty to all for past offences, and that the property of all the inhabitants should be respected.  This proposition was now being considered by the governor and his council, together with all the principal officers of the English regiments.

John Whitefoot had been out all day, and had just returned to his cousin’s house, which was crowded with fugitives, as the tanner had friends and connections in all the villages, and had opened his doors to all who sought shelter, until every room was filled.  It was a pitiful sight to see women, with their babies in their arms and their children gathered round them, sitting forlornly, almost indifferent to the momentous consultation which was going on, and thinking only of their deserted homes, and wondering what had befallen them.  The men had, for the most part, been out in the streets gathering news.  The tanner’s wife, assisted by two or three of the women, was busy at the great fire on the hearth, over which hung some huge pots in which broth and porridge were being prepared.

One by one, the men dropped in.  No news had yet been heard as to the decision of the council.  It was dark when the tanner himself entered.  His face was stern and pale.

“It is settled,” he said shortly.  “The council have broken up.  I have just spoken to one of the members.  They and the officers are unanimously in favour of accepting the terms of James.”

Exclamations of anger broke from some of the men.

“I cannot say aught against it,” the tanner said, “though my heart feels well-nigh broken.  Had we only men here, I should say let us fight to the last, but look at all these women and children!  Think what thousands and thousands of them are in the town.  Truly, I cannot blame the council that they have decided not to bring this terrible suffering upon the city.”

“The Lord will provide for his own,” a minister, who had come in with his flock, said.  “Friend, I had looked for better things from you.  I thought that you were steadfast in the cause of the Lord, and now that the time of trouble comes, you fall away at once.  Remember how Sennacherib and his host died before Jerusalem.  Cannot the Lord protect Londonderry likewise?”