The Topeka state journal., 1905-07-24
ALL IN ONE CRAVE
FOrty-seven Victims OF the Ben
ningtOn Disaster
Inferred in the Government
Cemetery on Point Iona.
IN WAGONS.
Over a HiIIy, Rocky Road Ten
Miles Long.
1t Is Believed That Wrecked
Gunboat Can Be Saved.

San DleSO, Cdi.s July 24.-Ihey Dur1ed
the Bennington's dead Sunday-47 of
them-in common grave. On the crest
or the promontory of Iona, high above
the shimmering waters of San Diego
bay on the one side. and within sound
OF the booming surf of the Pacific on
the other, they were laid to rest in the
peaceful little military burying ground.
Without the crash of drum or the sound
OF brass, without pomp or parade, yet
with simple impressiveness, all honor
was paid the nations dead.
They have honored dead to keep them
company, these brave boys of the Ben
nlngton- All about them lie those who
died in the nations service in more try
ing times. Gravestones, yellow with age,
bear the names of men who died at
Monterey, in the Mexican war; others
who gave up their lives in the conquest
OF California and who followed Commo-
dore Stockton at Old Sam Pasqual.
These are their neighbors in death.
Surely they should rest well.
Army and navy paid their last tributes
no less sincere than the simple grief of
the representatives of peace who made
the long journey around or across the
great bay. From Fort Rosecrans came
the One Hundred and Fifteenth COM
pany, coast heavy artillery; from the
city of San Diego the naval reserves;
from the Universal Brotherhood's home
on Point Iona, company of khaki
clad representatives, and from the
government ship Fortune dozen of
their sailors. But the most impressive
body of mourners were the 50 men from
the battered Bennington. Besides these
there were hundreds of civilians who
unthoughtful of the fatiguing journey
from the city, brought their offerings of
flowers to lay upon the graves.
Many Brought Flowers.
San Diego was city of mourning.
Thousands filed through the morgues
with arms filled with flowers, dropping
the blossoms here and there upon some
unfortunate's fag-draped coffin. Other
thousands gathered in the plaza, whence
the procession of cof11n-laden wagons
was to start.
Promptly at noon the long line of We
hicles began the long journey around
the bay to the burial place.
Owing to the steep hills and rough
roads it was found impracticable to use
hearses, or even dead wagons, and the
bodies were stacked in heavy express
wagons and other ordinary vehicles.
There were no bands of music to
stir the people with doleful melody
everything was quiet and businesslike.
The task was too big to be hampered
by any SageS of ordinary funerals.
and to bury them it was necessary to
haul them ten miles up steep hills
and along dusty roads. And so there
were only flowers and flags. But there
was d O1Spldy Oh THESE. EACH
casket bore a beautifully executed
wreath of asparagus ferns, white car
nations and immortelles, thoughtfully
sent by the San Diego commercial
bodies. The flags came from the ma
ton in whose service they had died.
Each of the plain black stained cas-
kets was draped with the national en-
blem, and the plain commercial util-
ity of the dead wagons was disguised
under the folds of the national colors.
From noon until o'clock these
dead-burdened wagons toiled toward
the burying grounds, and not until
half past was the last caSket placed
in the rock-ribbed trench.
Hundreds of other vehicles stirred
the choking dust of the ten mile road
throughout the forenoon, all making
for the same point, while every craft
that could be had brought hundreds
who, unmindful of the precipitous
heights to be scaled, climbed 500 feet
to the crest of the ridge. In this way
the soldiers from Fort Rosecrans
came, toiling up the deep road path,
their striking full dress uniforms CIV
ing color to the dull gray hills. After
them came the naval reserves and
still later the survivors of the Ben
nington.
Capt. f. ]. Drake, Commander
Lucfen Young of the Bennington, and
the members of his staff; Capt. E. D.
Scott, commanding Fort Rosecrans;
Capt. Rofe, of the same post; Mayor
Sehon of San Diego and members of
the executive and legislative branches
of the city were hauled around the
steep hills in ambulance wagons from
Fort Rosecrans.
One Big Grave.
The deep trench in which the bodies
were placed, in two rows, feet to feet,
is sixty feet long and fourteen feet
wide. 1t was finished but few min
utes before the arrival of the first load
Of bodies.
Around it were drawn up in long
lines, the artillery company from the
fort, rs strong, on the west; the naval
reserves, bearing arms full of flowers,
on the north; the Bennington's sur
vivors on the east, and the Univer-
sal Brotherhood on the west. Just
outside the simple picket fence in
closing the burying grounds gathered
the public in solid masses on all sides.
This was the setting for the most i'm
pressing spectacle-the eliminating
scenes of San Diego's week of sorrow.
without moments delay the work
of lifting the coffins from the wagons
and ranging them in the trench was
carried on. Shipmates from the Ben
nington performed this sad duty.
Squads of six came forward from
their ranks in rapid succession, lifting
the caskets gently, entered the trench
at the head and deposited the bodies
as directed by Lieut.. Tobin, who
checked them and saw that the board
placed at the head of each was prop
erly marked and numbered. In just
one hour and fifteen minutes the last
body had been deposited in the
trench.
The work of caring for the unfor-
tunate men, begun last Thursday
morning. was completed.
It only remained for the representa-
tives of the church to pronounce final
blessings of the dead. Rev. ]. A. NJ.
Richey, rector of st. Pauls, read the
Episcopal burial service, the twenty
first Psalm and repeated the Lords
Prayer. He concluded his impressive
duty by casting a handful of earth
upon the collins.
Venerable Father A. D. Ubash, of
the Catholic church, attended by two