The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1899-06-13
CHAPLAIN JONES, OF TzR TEXAS

Regarding Chaplain Jones, OF the bat
tleshlp Texas, upon whom Wake Forest
College recently conferred the ID. D ,
title, The Saturday Evening Post says
That 1.-The gentlest are the bravest, ,
and that there is q passive courage
which is rarer and nobler than an
shown on battlefield or in the heat OF
combat, was never better shown thai
by the action of Chaplain Harry ".
Jones, Of the Texas, and a tqlad q
marines during the burial of u sailor
on the hills back of Guantanamo.
During the first Commandment OF
Santiago by Commodore Schley's feet,
a shell struck the Texas, killing one
man and wounding several. After the
battle was over it was decided to bury
the brave fellow on the hill back Of the
Marine Camp, which the marines were
holding against such great odds, at
Guantanamo.
1t was known that the woods were
full OF Spanish sharp-shooters, but nc
one thought for a moment that the
enemy would be so base az to fire at 6
funeral party. So, without hesitation,
the 9 2aplRin volunteered to go ashore
and give the body Christian burial. A
guard OF no lor, co1si sting of thirty
marines, and eight pail bearers from
the messmates of the dead sailor, we're
told eff, aud the party was landed en-
the beach below the camp.
With the tap Of mt fl d drum, and
with arms reversed, the sad cortege
moved up the valley to the hillside,
where a grave was dug in the soft
soil. Then the body was lowered into
the ground, and, taking his stand at
the head Of the grave, the Chaplain be
gen to read the solemn words of the
burial service, the marines and blue
jackets grouping around with barred
heads.
The Chaplain wes just utteriDg the
sad words, Ashes to ashes, dust to
DUST" when ping went the crack of a
Mauser, and a LITTLE cloud of dust at
his feet showed where the bullet had
struck.
Any man might have been excused
for being Disconnected at such an Incl
dent, but the brave Chaplain, hey ond
raising his head to see from whence
this dastardly shot came, dill not suffer
it to disturb him in The least, and went
on with the service.
Soon the air was filed with the sing
ing hum Of bullets, and showers of
twigs and leaves, clipped from the
branches, began TO tall on the heads of
the party. The patter Of the bullets
! on TIE sod was like the sound of hail,
and a shot even went through the
sleeve Of the ChapEain's surpLlce. A
body Of Spanish sharpshooVers had
seen the party, had crep5 up to close
range, and, regardless of their sacred
mission, they were fling as fast as
they could load at the detenseIess
American burial party.
But the Chaplain, needing q shower
of deadly missiles no more than if it
had been harmless rain, continued to
read the words of promise and com
fort. The men, with bowed heads,
listened r~everently.
When the service was finished, the
burial party filled in the grave, the
bugler soundeded taps" the sailors
said requiem, and the marines fired
three volleys over the grave. Not IN
til then did the ~treaeherous attack
cease. Cowards that they were, the
Spanish took this firing to be a reply
to their shots, and. with a scattering
volley, they f5d, leaving the little
party in peace.
Strange to say, not one Of the men
was wounded or even touched by a
Spanish bullet. The God of Battles
mad shielded them, and HIS Angel had
sheltered them with his wings.