Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

A rare and poignant Great War Gallipoli operations D.S.C. group of four awarded to Australian-born Lieutenant-Commander F. S. “Cleg” Kelly, Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve, an accomplished composer and Olympic gold medallist, who was decorated for his gallantry as a Company Commander in Hood Battalion, R.N.D.: a friend of Arthur Asquith and Rupert Brooke - he acted as a pallbearer at the latter’s funeral and wrote an acclaimed Elegy to his memory - he was himself killed in action leading a charge on the Ancre in November 1916

Distinguished Service Cross, G.V.R., hallmarks for London 1916, in its Garrard & Co. case of issue; 1914-15 Star (Ty. Lieut. F. S. Kelly, D.S.C., R.N.V.R.); British War and Victory Medals, M.I.D. oak leaf (Lt. Commr. F. S. Kelly, R.N.V.R.), together with London Olympics 1908 commemorative medallion, generally extremely fine (5) £6000-8000

This lot was sold as part of a special collection, Exceptional Naval and Polar Awards from the Collection of RC Witte.

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D.S.C. London Gazette 6 September 1916:

‘In recognition of services with the Royal Naval Division in the Gallipoli Peninsula.’

Frederick Septimus “Cleg” Kelly was born in Sydney in May 1881, the seventh child of Irish-born woolbroker Thomas Hussey Kelly of Glenyarrah, and quickly displayed a remarkable talent for pianoforte, playing Mozart and Beethoven with great passion ‘before his hands could stretch an octave.’

Sculler and Scholar

No surprises then that he went up to Balliol College, Oxford, as a Nettleship Musical Scholar in 1900, having in the interim attended Sydney Grammar School and Eton.

And while attending the latter establishment he developed yet another marked talent - that of a skilled oarsman who stroked the Eton eight to victory in the Ladies’ Plate at Henley in the previous year. This was in fact, the commencement of a remarkable array of honours won on the river - thus Balliol’s victory in the university Fours in 1900 and 1903 and sensational wins in the Diamond Challenge Sculls at Henley in 1902, 1903 and 1905. And, as a member of Leander Club crews, he also won the Grand Challenge Cup at Henley without break 1903-05, followed by the Stewards’ Challenge Cup in 1906. He then answered a call to row for the English (Veterans) Olympic Eight in the London Games of 1908 - another resounding victory, the crew taking Gold ahead of the Belgians and Canadians, one observer concluding ‘his style cannot ever be surpassed.’

Meanwhile, on the music front, in addition to his duties as President of the University Musical Club:

‘In composition as in playing, Kelly was freeing himself, finding himself - throwing off in his playing some hampering restrictions that had clung to him through long routine and habit of practice, and gaining for his composition not only a greater vigour and freshness in the ideas but a new judgment and discrimination in the use of all resources, particularly those of form. Certain of the “Mongraphs” (a late Opus) and two Organ Preludes may be termed masterpieces of small genre.’

And he became even more absorbed in his music after leaving Oxford, spending much time studying at the Hoch Conservatory in Frankfurt, and playing a series of concerts back in Sydney in 1911, when he no doubt caught up on family news with his elder brother William, who held the seat of Wentworth in the Australian House of Representatives.

Otherwise he resided at Bisham Grange, near Marlow in Buckinghamshire, where, with his sister, Mary, he led a happy life occupied with books, endless discussions, tennis and the river and, above all, with strict musical practice. But this idyllic existence came to an abrupt end in August 1914, when, with the onset of hostilities, he stepped up to the mark, and quickly found himself commissioned as a Sub. Lieutenant in Drake Battalion, Royal Naval Division.

Rupert Brooke’s death

In early 1915, on learning that his own Battalion might not be embarked for the forthcoming Gallipoli operations, Kelly arranged for a transfer to Hood Battalion, where he found himself in the company of a number of equally talented officers, otherwise known as the “Latin Club” and among them Rupert Brooke, Arthur Asquith and Lord Ribblesdale’s son, Charles Lister. And, as described in the published version of his diaries, Race Against Time, Kelly quickly befriended the famous poet:

‘After the Hood Battalion left England, the friendship between Kelly and Brooke had deepened. There are frequent references to their being together on group outings on leave, nights spent together at the dinner table, of W. Denis Browne [the critic and composer] and Kelly entertaining their fellow officers with Brooke to the fore and, towards the end, accounts of Brooke coming alone to Kelly’s cabin to read his poems and discuss literature. Brooke’s death was a personal loss. Kelly is said to have begun composing his Elegy dedicated to Brooke as the poet lay dying nearby.’

Brooke died of sepsis aboard a French hospital ship on 23 April, on the eve of the Battalion’s part in the Gallipoli operations and, with the assistance of W. Denis Browne, Kelly ensured the late poet’s personal effects were recovered from the ship - he even copied the contents of Brooke’s notebook against loss in transit back to his family. And, in a now well-described and highly moving ceremony, acted as a pall bearer at the poet’s burial atop a hill on the island of Skyros - fellow mourners comprising Denis Browne, Arthur Asquith, Charles Lister, Patrick Shaw-Stewart and Bernard Freyberg.

Following the ceremony, Kelly wrote in his diary:

‘When the last of the five of us his friends had covered his grave with stones and took a last look in silence - then the scene of the tragedy gave place to a sense of passionless beauty engendered both by the poet and the place.’

Gallipoli - twice wounded and a D.S.C.

Landing at Cape Helles at the end of April, Kelly was present in the attack of 2 May, when the ferocity of the Turks’ retaliatory bombardment on the following night left his batman ‘quite unhinged ... and completely out of his senses’.

Nonetheless, a few days later he participated in the R.N.D’s next offensive, and remained equally active until being wounded by shrapnel in his right heel on 4 June. Evacuated to Alexandria, he made a rapid recovery and was back in the trenches before the month’s end, where he collected a second wound - to his head - on the 29th. But, as is apparent from the following extract from a letter written by Charles Lister in late July, he very much remained on active service:

‘Our digging operations, carried out at night within about two hundred yards of the enemy’s trenches and under a certain amount of rifle fire, have not only made our own position quite secure but rendered untenable for the Turks a small portion of our sector which they still held in between our extreme right and our right centre. They have also given us a point of vantage from which we can enfilade Turks retiring before the French on our extreme right. Oc [Asquith] has been extraordinarily dogged, and is practically responsible for all this corner, which will be known as Asquith triangle. He hadn’t a wink of sleep all the four days, and Patrick and Kelly also distinguished themselves and in one night dug a long trench connecting Asquith triangle with our main support. Six men of this company were killed and wounded, and I think the company of another battalion working with them lost about as many. Patrick and Kelly remained above the ground the whole time, and it was a wonder they were not hit. Their Petty Officer who was doing the same got killed.’

On the Battalion’s final evacuation from the peninsula, Kelly remained with the rear guard to cover the withdrawal, staying with Freyberg and Asquith.

He was mentioned in despatches for gallant and distinguished services by Sir Ian Hamilton (London Gazette 1 November 1916 refers), and was awarded the D.S.C.

France - killed in action

On arrival in France in early 1916, Kelly was appointed second-in-command of the 2nd Hood Battalion, under Asquith. And a glimpse of him at this time may be found in an account of a visit to Rouen by a fellow officer, Sub. Lieutenant Bentham:

‘The war still seemed a long way off, and Lieutenant Kelly, Sub. Lieutenant Chapman and myself with 12 Petty Officers and Leading Seamen were sent to Rouen for a bombing course. There was a stir when we arrived at the camp, which contained 5,000 to 6,000 men, and nobody knew who or what we were. We still maintained our naval ranks and Kelly had a full moustache and beard. Kelly stipulated that the navy took precedence on parade, much to the army’s annoyance, and we lined up behind the band and led the parade off the parade ground.

What a time I had in Rouen: the fortnight went very quickly. It was whilst we were there that I first heard Kelly play the piano. He was a master, and had given recitals at Queen’s Hall before the war. He had also won the Diamond Sculls two years running (sic). But he was very eccentric: he washed his teeth at least 12 times a day, and loathed getting his hands dirty, so he was never without gloves.’

A few days later, the Battalion was sent to the Vimy sector, the commencement of a long chapter of sustained fighting, bravery and loss. And it was in the assault on Beaumont-sur-Ancre on 13 November that Kelly was killed in action, when in clearing up the dug-outs in the enemy’s third line, he fell leading a gallant and successful attack on a machine-gun emplacement which threatened to enfilade the whole advance. Earlier that morning, he had met Bernard Freyberg, who was to win a V.C. for the same operations:

‘At 5.30 a.m., with 15 minutes to go, I went across quickly to see that everything was in order. The patrol in front was in trouble, some bombs were thrown, and it retaliated as it withdrew. On the extreme right I stopped to talk to Kelly, who commanded B Company. We had been daily companions for the last two years, and he, Asquith, Egerton and I were the sole survivors of the Battalion who left Avonmouth for Gallipoli in February 1915. I wanted to take both his hands and wish him “God Speed’, but somehow it seemed too theatrical; instead we talked rather awkwardly, and synchronized our watches. I walked back along our sector, speaking to the men I recognized. The old hands, whom I called by name, answered with a “Yes sir, I’m here again,” which recalled similar meetings on dark nights, and made me wonder which of them would answer the call at the next attack ... ’

Sadly, not Kelly, who was buried in Martinsart Cemetery on the Somme.

Posthumous acclaim

At a memorial concert held at Wigmore Hall, London, in May 1920, some of Kelly’s piano compositions were played by Leonard Borwick, and some of his songs sung by Murial Foster. But it was his Elegy for String Orchestra, in memory of Rupert Brooke, and a work of profound feeling, that left a lasting impression - at a special concert held to mark the 125th anniversary of Brooke’s birth in June of this year, the Cambridge University Chamber Orchestra played the work alongside recitals from the actor Mark Payton and Lady Mary Archer.

Thus to an appropriate obituary that said of Kelly’s moving Elegy:

‘No record, however slight, of his [Kelly’s] musical life may leave unnoticed the Elegy for String Orchestra written in 1915 and dedicated to the memory of his friend Rupert Brooke. Here he is the poet of deep imagining, finding an utterance in music which, linked by its modal inflections to the Past, is no mere expression of personal grief or loss, but, a symbol, rather, of the continuity of life, giving thoughts of Eternity - and as such, for all who knew or loved “Cleg” Kelly, his own most fitting and perfect memorial.’