After the capitulation, the American commanding officer remonstrated with General Proctor, on the necessity of protecting the wounded prisoners from the fury of the savages. That officer pledged himself to attend to it, but he _forgot to keep his word_: they were left without the promised protection, and on the morning of the 23d, horrible to relate, the _allies_ of a _christian king_, stripped, scalped, tomahawked and burnt all of them who were unable to walk.[3] [3] The fate of Capt. Hart was peculiarly distressing.--He had received a flesh wound and particularly distinguished himself by his undaunted bravery. After the capitulation, Capt. Elliot, who had been a class mate with him at Princetown college, waited on Capt. Hart, and unsolicited, promised him his protection declaring that the next morning he would have him taken to his own house at Malden, where he should remain until his recovery.--But Elliot broke his promise and left him to his fate! On the next day a band of savages came into the house where he was confined, and tore him from his bed. But he bargained with one of them and gave him a considerable sum of money to have himself taken to Malden. They set off, and after travelling as far as the river Aux Sables, they were met by a fresh band of Indians, who shot the Captain upon his horse, and tomahawked and scalped him! Numbers were put to death after they had been several days in custody. At Sandy Creek an Indian approached a volunteer of the name of Blythe and proposed to exchange his mocasins for Blythe's shoes--with this he readily complied; after this they exchanged hats; the Indian then raised his tomahawk and struck Blythe on the shoulder which cut into the cavity of his body: Blythe then caught hold of the tomahawk and attempted to resist but on one of his fellow prisoners telling him that his fate was fixed, he closed his eyes and received the savage blow that terminated his existence. Hamilton deposed that when the prisoners were marching from Raisin to Detroit, they came up to where one of the prisoners was burning, the life just expiring, and an Indian kicking the ashes off his back. The dead were denied the rites of sepulture;[4] the living were treated with the greatest indignity. The prisoners were generally stripped of their clothing, rifled of their cash, and the swords of the officers given to the savages. Men whose education, talents and character ought to have entitled them to respect, had their feelings grossly outraged.