Kingsburgh was made prisoner, and was sent to Fort Augustus on parole
without any guard, by General Campbell's order. But the clemency shown
by Campbell ceased when Kingsburgh reached Fort Augustus. He was thrown
into a dungeon, was plundered of everything, and loaded with irons. Sir
Everard Faulkner, who was employed to examine him, reminded him how fine
an opportunity he had lost of "making himself and his family for ever."
"Had I gold and silver piled heap upon heap to the bulk of yon huge
mountain," was the noble reply, "that mass could not afford me half the
satisfaction I find in my own breast from doing what I have done!"
Whilst he was confined at Fort Augustus, an officer of distinction came
to him, and asked him if he should know the Prince's head if he saw it.
"I should know the head very well if it were on the shoulders," was the
answer. "But if it were not on the shoulders?" said the officer. "In
that case I will not pretend to know anything about it," returned
Kingsburgh. His discrimination was not put to the test.
Kingsburgh was removed to Edinburgh castle under a strong guard of
Kingston's Light-horse. He was at first put into a room with several
other gentlemen, but was afterwards removed into solitary confinement,
and not allowed to speak to any one, except to the officer on guard, and
the keeper, who acted as his servant. In this place he remained for a
year, when by the act of grace he was set at liberty on the fourth of
July 1747; "having thus," as an author has observed, "got a whole year's
safe lodging for affording that of one night!"[303]
Before her farewell to her friends in Armadale, Flora Macdonald had
exchanged the vessel which Captain Fergusson commanded, for one
commanded by Commodore Smith, a gentleman capable of estimating her
character. At Armadale, she procured a change of clothes, and took as
her personal attendant an honest girl, named Kate Macdonald, who could
speak nothing but Gaelic. This girl offered herself as a servant,
finding that Flora could get no one else to attend her in her calamity.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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