Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 52, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 January 1892 — THE BRAVE JACK TAR. [ARTICLE]

THE BRAVE JACK TAR.

Risking Hl* Life to Bury the Corpse of an Enemy. After the repulse of one of the furious assaults at Acre, says a writer in Good Words, the dead body of a French officer was left lying in a prominent position between'the walls and the besiegers’ trenches. The body lay there - for a day or two and attracted much attention. It was 6poken about on board the Tigre, which lay off Acre, and the matter made an impression difficult to account for on the simple superstitious mind of Kehy. Only the very smartest men had been sent ashore to assist in the defense, and Kelly was not among these. But one day he begged for and obtained leave to go jn shore. As soon as he entered the town he procured a shovel, a pickax, and a coil of rope, walked straight to the ramparts, and, declining all offers of assistance, lowered himself from an embrasure. The firing at the moment was fast and furious. As Kelly set foot upon the ground and, shouldering his tools, walked deliberately toward the dead body a dozen French muskets were pointed at him. One of the enemy’s commanders, however, divining the sailor’s intentions, ordered his men to shoulder arms. In an instant both sides, as if by some common impulse, ceased firing, and Kelly, the object of breathless attention from friend and foe, stopped beside the Frenchman’s corpse. He then coolly and calmly dug a grave, put the officer into it, covered him up, and taking from his pocket a small piece of board and a bit of*chalk wrote on the board “Here you lie, old Crop,” and put at the head of the grave this rough-and-ready memorial. “Old Crop” was no doubt honest Kelly’s rendering of “Crapaud,” the French for a frog, and a nickname with the sailors for all “mounseers.” This pious duty done, he shouldered his implements again, walked back as deliberately as he had come, and disappeared within the embrasure. The firing recommenced and men thirsted once more for another’s blood. Sir Sidney Smith, the very man to delight in such an adventure, sent for Kelly and questioned him about it. The simple-hearted tar could only wonder that others could find anything to wondex at in his exploit. “You were alone, were you not?” said Sir Sidney. “No, I was not alone,” answered Kelly. “I was told you were,” protested the commodore. “No, I wasn’t alone,” was the reply; “God was with me.”