John had, the day before, gone out when the gates were opened for the preachers, and at night had again safely made the passage to the mouth of the river and back.  He found the lantern burning among the bushes, and two kegs placed beside it, with a bountiful meal of bread and meat for himself.

So the days went on, each day lessening the number of the inhabitants of the town.  Fever and famine were making terrible ravages, and the survivors moved about the streets like living skeletons, so feeble and weak, now, that they could scarce bear the weight of their arms.

On the 30th of July, three ships were seen approaching the mouth of the river.  They were part of Kirk’s squadron, which had all this time been lying idle, almost within sight of the town.  The news of his conduct had excited such anger and indignation in England that, at last, in obedience to peremptory orders from London, he prepared to make the attempt; although, by sending only two store ships and one frigate, it would almost seem as if he had determined that it should be a failure.

The besiegers as well as the besieged saw the three ships advancing, and the former moved down to the shore, to repel the attempt.  The batteries on either side of the boom were manned, and from them, and from the infantry gathered on the banks, a heavy fire was opened as the ships approached.

So innocuous was the fire of the artillery, that it has been supposed that Kirk had previously bribed the officers commanding the forts.  At any rate, the ships suffered no material damage, and, returning the fire, advanced against the boom.  The leading store ship dashed against it and broke it, but the ship swerved from her course with the shock, and struck the ground.  A shout of dismay burst from those on the walls, and one of exultation from the besiegers, who rushed down to board the vessel.

Her captain, however, pointed all his guns forward, and discharged them all at the same moment, and the recoil shook the vessel from her hold on the ground, and she floated off, and pursued her way up the river, followed by her consorts.

The delay of Kirk had cost the defenders of Londonderry more than half their number.  The fighting men had, either by disease, famine, or in the field, lost some five thousand, while of the non-combatants seven thousand had died.  The joy and exultation in the city, as the two store ships ranged up under its walls, were unbounded.  Provisions were speedily conveyed on shore, and abundance took the place of famine.

Five days later, General Rosen raised the siege and marched away with his army, which had, in the various operations of the siege, and from the effect of disease, lost upwards of three thousand men.

“This has been a bad beginning, Walter,” Captain Davenant said, as they rode away from the grounds on which they had been so long encamped.  “If the whole force of Ireland does not suffice to take a single town, the prospect of our waging war successfully against England is not hopeful.”