File:Daniel Bryan (HMS Tigre) at the Siege of Acre (11 May 1799).jpg

English: Daniel Bryan, the sailor who so nobly Volunteered at the risk of his life to bury the French General during the Seige of Acre. Plate No. IV.

Daniel Bryan was an old seaman, and captain of the foretop, who had been turned over from the Blanch into Sir Sidney's ship Le Tigre. During the siege of Acre, this hardy veteran made repeated applications to be employed on shore ; but, being an elderly man, and rather deaf, his request was not acceded to. At the first storming of the breach by the French, among the multitude of slain, fell one of the generals of that nation. The Turks, in triumph, struck off the head of this unfortunate officer ; and after inhumanly mangling the body with their sabres, left it naked, a prey to the dogs. Precluded from the rites of sepulture, it in a few days became putrescent ; a shocking spectacle, a dreadful momento of the horrors of war, the fragility of human nature, and the vanity of all sublunary ambition, hopes and expectations. Thus exposed, when any of the sailors who had been on shore returned to their ship enquiries were constantly made respecting the state of the deceased General. Dan frequently asked his messmates why they had not buried him; but the only reply that he received was, go and do it yourself. Dan swore he would ; observing that he had himself been taken prisoner by the French, who always gave their enemies a decent burial, not like those Turks, leaving them to rot aboveboard. In the morning, having at length obtained leave to go and see the town, he dressed himself, as though for an excursion of pleasure, and went ashore with the surgeon in the jolly boat. About an hour or two after, while the surgeon was dressing the wounded Turks in the hospital, in came honest Dan, who, in his rough good-natured manner exclaimed, " I've been burying the General, Sir, and now I'm come to " see the sick." Not particularly attending to the tar's salute, but fearful of his catching the plague,* the surgeon immediately ordered him out. Returning on board, the coxswain enquired of the surgeon if he had seen old Dan. " Yes, he " has been burying the French General." It was then that Dan's words in the hospital first recurred. The boat's crew who witnessed the generous action, an action truly worthy of a British sailor, in whose character are ever blended the noblest and the milder virtues, thus related its circumstances : —the old man procured a pickaxe, a shovel, and a rope, and insisted on being let down, out of a port hole, close to the breach. Some of his more juvenile companions ottered to attend him : " No ;" he replied, " you are too young to be shot yet; as for me, I am old and deaf, and my loss would be no great matter." Persisting in his adventure, in the midst of the firing, Dan was slung, and lowered down with his implements of action on his shoulder. His first difficulty, not a very trivial one, was to drive away the dogs.* The French now levelled their pieces; they were on the instant of firing at the hero ! it was an interesting moment ! but an officer, perceiving the friendly intentions of the sailor, was seen to throw himself across the ranks. Instantaneously the din of arms, the military thunder ceased ; a dead, a solemn silence prevailed ; and the worthy fellow consigned the corpse to its parent earth. He covered and another at its feet. it with mould and stones, placing a large stone at its head —But Dan's task was not yet completed. The unostentatious grave was formed, but no inscription recorded the fate or character of its possessor. Dan, with the peculiar air of a British sailor, took a piece of chalk from his pocket and attempted to write, " Here you lie old Crop!" He was then, with his pickaxe and shovel, hoisted into the town, and the hostile firing immediately recommenced. A few days afterwards, Sir Sidney having been informed of the circumstance, ordered Dan to be called into the cabin. " Well Dan, I hear you have buried the French " General?" " Yes, your honour!" " Had you any body " with you?" "Yes, your honour!" *' Why, Mr. Spilsbury " says you had not." " But I had, your honour." " Ah, who " had you?" God Almighty, Sir." " A very good assistant " indeed! Give old Dan a glass of grog." " Thank your " honour!" Dan drank his grog, and left the cabin highly gratified. Greenwich. He is now a pensioner in the Royal Hospital at Greenwich.

• At this time the plague was making great ravages among the wounded Turks : scarcely half a dozen of them escaped the mortality.

• It may be remarked here, that the dogs in this part of the world have lost that fidelity, and that noble generosity of character, which distinguish them in European countries. Ferocious and unsocial, suspicious, even of their masters, instead of protecting them, if they were not restrained by the. abject fears of their degenerated nature, they would fall upon and devour them.
  

Abbey Travel 383.