Graydon, himself, becoming separated from his own men, mistook a party
of Highlanders for them, and was obliged to surrender to them. He was
put under charge of a Scotch sergeant, who said to him and his
companion, Forrest: "Young men, ye should never fight against your
King!"
Just then a British officer rode up at full gallop exclaiming, "What!
taking prisoners! Kill them, Kill every man of them!"
"My back was towards him when he spoke," says Graydon, "and although
by this time there was none of that appearance of ferocity in the
guard which would induce much fear that they would execute his
command, I yet thought it well enough to parry it, and turning to him,
I took off my hat, saying, 'Sir, I put myself under your protection!'
"No man was ever more effectually rebuked. His manner was instantly
softened; he met my salutation with an inclination of his body, and
after a civil question or two, as if to make amends for his sanguinary
mandate, rode off towards the fort, to which he had enquired the way.
"Though I had delivered up my arms I had not adverted to a cartouche
box which I wore about my waist, and which, having once belonged to
his British Majesty, presented in front the gilded letters, G. R.
Exasperated at this trophy on the body of a rebel, one of the soldiers
seized the belt with great violence, and in the act to unbuckle it,
had nearly jerked me off my legs.
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