The fight at the Boyne was over; the English, Dutch, Danish, and French allies resting, or preparing to rest, as well as the ground near the Pass of Duleek would allow, and their defeated but not dispirited foemen marching wearily in the summer night toward Dublin. James accompanied by Sarsfield's horse was already far in the van, and in due time he reached the castle. We can scarcely fancy a more false or uncomfortable position than that in which James now stood, when, calling together his council, the lord mayor, and other notables, he addressed them for the last time. An ill-disposed historian might have invented this speech for him if no memory of the one really delivered had survived. "My dear and loyal Irish subjects, I believe I ought not to have risked the disastrous battle of yesterday against the advice of my judicious officers. After the fighting was determined on, I unhappily did much to discourage the undisciplined fellows who so well exhibited their loyalty and bravery at the Boyne. We are beaten, I am sorry to say, and I am getting away as fast as I can to place hundreds of miles between myself and the cannons and muskets of my callous relative. Make as good terms, my poor people, with William as he will grant you. I. can do no more for you than leave you my blessing, to which you are heartily welcome. Adieu!"
There is an ill-natured tradition still afloat that in his greeting to Lady Tyrconnell he alluded to the agility of the Irish in running away from the field, and was in return complimented by that lady for having outstripped such very fleet runners. The anecdote bears every mark of a lie about it. The orderly retreat at the Boyne was nothing like a dastardly flight, and James's disposition would have been worse than his ill-wishers have ever represented it, had he cracked that bitter jest on his loyal supporters. We prefer the following sketch of the final interview from the pen of a writer whose Williamite leanings, though strong, are regulated by calm judgment and generous feelings:
"In the cold grey of the winter's morning it were hard to imagine a drearier or less inviting spectacle than this group of loyalists presented. While they were waiting thus, James, a man of punctuality to the last, was employed in paying and discharging his menial servants, previously to his taking final leave of his Irish capital. At last however the door opened, and James followed by two or three gentlemen and officers, including Colonel Luttrell who kept garrison as governor of the city, entered the apartment. . . . There was that in the fallen condition of the king, in the very magnitude of his misfortunes, which lent a mournful dignity to his presence, and which in spite of the petulance which occasionally broke from him, impressed the few disappointed, and well-nigh ruined followers of his cause who stood before him with feelings of melancholy respect.
"'Gentlemen,' said the king after a brief pause, 'it hath pleased the Almighty Disposer of events to give the victory to our enemies. . . . The enemy will be in possession of this city at least before many days are passed. . . . Matters being so, we must needs shift for ourselves as best we may. Above all we do command you, we do implore of you, gentlemen, in your several stations, and principally you, Colonel Luttrell, as governor of this our city, to prevent all undue severities, all angry reprisals, all violences .... upon the suspected within its walls. We do earnestly intreat of you all to remember that this is our city, and they our subjects; protect it and them as long as it shall seem wise to occupy this town for us. This is our last command, our parting request.'"
The poor king was overcome during his speech by the part his own daughters were acting in the bitter drama then in progress. However, that does not excuse the reference to the want of capacity or courage which he was pleased to discover among his Irish supporters. For from the beginning they appeared more interested in his success than he did himself.
WILLIAM IN DUBLIN.
But the speech came to an end, and the king departed, and conflicting and varying hopes and fears agitated the citizens, as the Irish troops marched in with drums beating and colors flying, and again quitted the city, and proceeded to Limerick, and so on till the arrival of the Duke of Ormond and the Dutch guards on Thursday.
The king rode in from the camp at Finglass on the next Sunday, attended divine service in St. Patrick's cathedral, and returned to the camp in time for dinner. On the 7th of the month he issued a proclamation from which a few extracts are here presented:
"WILLIAM, R.
"As it hath pleased Almighty God to bless our arms in this kingdom with a late victory, . . . . we hold it reasonable to think of mercy, and to have compassion on those whom we judge to have been seduced. Wherefore we do hereby declare, we shall take into our royal protection all poor labourers, common souldiers, country farmers, plough-men, and cottiers whatsoever: as also all citizens, trades-men, towns-men, and artificers, who either remained at home, or having fled from their dwellings, shall return by the first of August. . . We do also promise to secure them in their goods, their stocks of' cattel, and all their chattels personal whatever, willing and requiring them to come in, . . and to preserve the harvest of grass and corn for the supply of the winter."
Those who held from Protestant landlords were to pay their rent as usual, but tenants of Roman Catholics should hand their money to commissioners appointed to receive it. The term REBELS is applied in the proclamation to all in arms for King James, a proof that privy councillors dating from the royal camp at Finglass, 7th July, 1690, were determined to hold the adherents of James sternly to their constitutional position.