I looked in vain for the despatch in which Lauzun must have given
Louvois a detailed account of the battle.]

[Footnote 696: Lauzun wrote to Seignelay, July 16/26 1690, "Richard
Amilton a ete fait prisonnier, faisant fort bien son devoir."]

[Footnote 697: My chief materials for the history of this battle are
Story's Impartial Account and Continuation; the History of the War in
Ireland by an Officer of the Royal Army; the despatches in the French
War Office; The Life of James, Orig. Mem. Burnet, ii. 50. 60; Narcissus
Luttrell's Diary; the London Gazette of July 10. 1690; the Despatches of
Hop and Baden; a narrative probably drawn up by Portland, which William
sent to the States General; Portland's private letter to Melville;
Captain Richardson's Narrative and map of the battle; the Dumont MS.,
and the Bellingham MS. I have also seen an account of the battle in a
Diary kept in bad Latin and in an almost undecipherable hand by one
of the beaten army who seems to have been a hedge schoolmaster turned
Captain. This Diary was kindly lent to me by Mr. Walker, to whom it
belongs. The writer relates the misfortunes of his country in a style
of which a short specimen may suffice: 1 July, 1690. "O diem
illum infandum, cum inimici potiti sunt pass apud Oldbridge et nos
circumdederunt et fregerunt prope Plottin. Hinc omnes fugimus Dublin
versus. Ego mecum tuli Cap Moore et Georgium Ogle, et venimus hac nocte
Dub."]

[Footnote 698: See Pepys's Diary, June 4. 1664. "He tells me above all
of the Duke of York, that he is more himself, and more of judgment is at
hand in him, in the middle of a desperate service than at other times."
Clarendon repeatedly says the same. Swift wrote on the margin of his
copy of Clarendon, in one place, "How old was he (James) when he turned
Papist and a coward?"--in another, "He proved a cowardly Popish king."]

[Footnote 699: Pere Orleans mentions that Sarsfield accompanied James.
The battle of the Boyne had scarcely been fought when it was made the
subject of a drama, the Royal Flight, or the Conquest of Ireland, a
Farce, 1690. Nothing more execrable was ever written. But it deserves to
be remarked that, in this wretched piece, though the Irish generally are
represented as poltroons, an exception is made in favour of Sarsfield.
"This fellow," says James, aside, "I will make me valiant, I think,
in spite of my teeth." "Curse of my stars!" says Sarsfield, after the
battle. "That I must be detached! I