ttle honour. He had often, he said, been warned that
Irishmen, however well they might look, would never acquit themselves
well on a field of battle; and he had now found that the warning was but
too true. He had been so unfortunate as to see himself in less than
two years abandoned by two armies. His English troops had not wanted
courage; but they had wanted loyalty. His Irish troops were, no doubt,
attached to his cause, which was their own. But as soon as they were
brought front to front with an enemy, they ran away. The loss indeed had
been little. More shame for those who had fled with so little loss. "I
will never command an Irish army again. I must shift for myself; and so
must you." After thus reviling his soldiers for being the rabble which
his own mismanagement had made them, and for following the example of
cowardice which he had himself set them, he uttered a few words more
worthy of a King. He knew, he said, that some of his adherents had
declared that they would burn Dublin down rather than suffer it to fall
into the hands of the English. Such an act would disgrace him in the
eyes of all mankind: for nobody would believe that his friends would
venture so far without his sanction. Such an act would also draw on
those who committed it severities which otherwise they had no cause to
apprehend: for inhumanity to vanquished enemies was not among the faults
of the Prince of Orange. For these reasons James charged his hearers on
their allegiance neither to sack nor to destroy the city, [705] He then
took his departure, crossed the Wicklow hills with all speed, and never
stopped till he was fifty miles from Dublin. Scarcely had he alighted
to take some refreshment when he was scared by an absurd report that the
pursuers were close upon him. He started again, rode hard all night,
and gave orders that the bridges should be pulled down behind him. At
sunrise on the third of July he reached the harbour of Waterford.
Thence he went by sea to Kinsale, where he embarked on board of a French
frigate, and sailed for Brest, [706]

After his departure the confusion in Dublin increased hourly. During the
whole of the day which followed the battle, flying foot soldiers,
weary and soiled with travel, were constantly coming in. Roman Catholic
citizens, with their wives, their families and their household stuff,
were constantly going out. In some parts of the capital there was still
an appearance of martial order and preparedness.