One day when I was visiting him and his fellow-prisoners, one of them happened to be complaining of the hardships of their situation, saying, 'Is not this a dull and uncomfortable state to be pacing up and down this room, waiting the freak and humour of an officer to let us out when he thinks fit to walk for an hour or so within the narrow bounds of the Half-moon?' Kingsburgh gently check'd him for his complaining, and said, 'Do not complain, Sir, for there are many situations far worse than ours. Had you been only in my condition at Fort Augustus you would have experienc'd a very great odds. [Sidenote: _fol._ 223.] When I was taken out of the provo's guard and put into the dungeon with irons upon me, I thought myself happy; but when I was removed to a room and the irons taken off me, though I was not allowed to step over the threshold, I thought myself in a kind of paradise. And now that I am here and in exceeding good company (a happiness I had not before) I think myself still more and more in a paradise. I am really content. I am quite satisfied with my condition, if they will only allow me to stay with this good company. And what do you think, Sir, of the liberty of walking upon the Half-moon, tho' it were but for an hour or two at a time? I do assure you this is no small happiness in a state of confinement. What would I have given for such a liberty at Fort Augustus?' Kingsburgh was not allowed to make a long abode with his agreeable companions, for he was soon removed to a room by himself under a strict and close confinement, not having the liberty to step over the threshold of his door, and no person being allowed to come near him but the officer upon guard, the serjeant, and the keeper that was appointed to attend him as a servant.

When his lady came to Edinburgh she was not allowed access [Sidenote: _fol._ 224.] to him, but only to stand upon the parade and see her husband looking down to her through the grate of a window, the officers and sogers witnessing their enquiring about ane another's welfare. At last Kingsburgh fell so ill in his health that a physician and surgeon behoved to have access to him, but always in presence of an officer. Then his lady after many and earnest solicitations obtained the privilege of being with him throughout the day, but was obliged to leave him upon the approach of the evening. When he was recovering he was allowed to step out, only once or twice a week, with an officer attending him, to take a walk in the garden or any other by-place of the Castle, not being indulged the pleasure of seeing the other prisoners or of walking on the same spot with them; till some short time before his releasement that he was permitted now and then to be on the Half-moon with them. All the reason that ever could be discovered for this severity and strictness upon Kingsburgh was this. When he was in the same room with Major MacDonell, Leckie, etc., many persons came to pay their respects to him, and to hear his story, which he very plainly and honestly gave, at the same time never [Sidenote: _fol._ 225.] failing to give an exact account of the Prince's adventures and chearful conduct in the course of his wanderings, as far as he had got any intelligence about them. This reaching the ears of those in power it proved not a little disgusting to them to hear such things as served to form a great and glorious character of the Prince, and therefore Kingsburgh behoved to suffer for narrating some stubborn, ill-manner'd truths, and to feel the effects of being a plain, honest man. Truth, tho' never so glaring, when it runs cross to the partial notions and inclinations of poor frail mortals, grates very hard and becomes a very uneasy and painful thing.

The Lyon in Mourning, Vol. 1 — Part 106