Derry and Limerick
bombardment, he at once proceeded to show his earnestness. On the 2nd and 3rd of July all the Protestants, men, women, and children, within ten miles of Derry—some 1,200 in number—were driven under the walls. There they spent a miserable night: some few were smuggled in contrary to orders, for if their friends took pity upon them the citizens' provisions would soon be exhausted: the poor creatures even entreated the garrison to hold firm. To this stratagem the besieged replied by setting up a gallows in view of the enemy's camp, and threatening to hang a score of prisoners. De Rosen's "barbarous Muscovite" policy, as James termed it, having proved futile—and being bitterly resented in the camp by the co-religionists of the victims—on the 4th of July the unfortunate Protestants were sent to their homes, and actually provided with food and money for the journey.1 The garrison had taken in some able-bodied recruits, while some 500 of the exhausted citizens mingled with the crowd outside, but many, detected by their emaciated appearance and horrible pallor, were sent back.
On the 11th the Jacobites again offered a parley, and the besieged, now in dire straits, were more disposed to entertain their proposals. About this time tallow, rendered not more palatable by the title of "French butter," formed
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