the chamber in which it had rested during the night,
and by the aid of machinery was raised to its position
on the lofty summit of the car. At eight o'clock the
hangings of the tent, which concealed it from the view,
were suddenly furled. The first minute-gun was fired,
the troops presented arms and saluted the body, upon
which the roll of the muffled drum, followed by the
music of the "Dead March" in Saul, announced that
the procession had commenced. The order of procession
may be thus generally described. Six battalions of
infantry marched in front, followed by the cavalry,
artillery, a body of Chelsea Pensioners, and several men
belonging to the different arms of the East India
Company's service. Then followed the standard, or pennon;
the Duke's servants, and the Lieutenant and Deputy-
Lieutenant of the Tower, in coaches; deputations from
public bodies, Merchant Taylors' Company, the Trinity
House, and others; officers of the Duke's household;
military chaplains; the High-Sheriff of Southampton,
and Sheriffs of London; the Aldermen and Recorder of
London; members of the Order of the Bath; the
banner of Wellesley carried by General Lord Saltoun;
captains in the army on horseback; the judges; the
Secretary at War, Paymaster-General, Judge Advocate-
General, Master-General of the Ordnance, and first
Lord of the Admiralty; her Majesty's ministers;
Speaker of the House of Commons, the Lord Chancellor
representing the House of Lords; the Archbishop of
Canterbury, the Lord Mayor; the Duke's aides-de-camp;
Prince Albert's carriage drawn by six horses,
with officers of his Royal Highness's household; his
Royal Highness himself in a carriage drawn by six
horses, attended by his Lord Chamberlain and Groom
of the Stole: the Serjeant Trumpeter and heralds; the
batons of Spain, Russia, Prussia, Portugal, the Netherlands,
Hanover, borne by military officers of the
respective powers, and the baton of England borne by
Marquis of Anglesey; the Duke's coronet, borne on a
black cushion by the Clarenceux King at Arms; the
pall-bearers, eight general officers in two mourning
coaches; the corpse, covered with a black velvet pall,
adorned with escutcheons, upon a funeral car drawn by
twelve horses, decorated with trophies and heraldic
achievements; the Chief Mourner, in a long mourning
cloak, accompanied by the Hon. and Rev. Gerald
Wellesley and the Hon. W. Wellesley, in a mourning
coach; a number of mourning coaches containing
friends of the Duke; officers and men from every
regiment in the service; the carriages of the Queen, the
Duchesses of Gloucester, Kent, and Cambridge; and
other private carriages closed the procession. As each
regiment or body of troops filed off in the appointed
order, its band led the way, playing the "Dead March"
in Saul, or other appropriate pieces, accompanied, at
intervals by the roll of the muffled drums. The men
carried their arms reversed. To the troops the mourning
coaches and carriages, properly marshalled,
succeeded; and the length of the procession may be
imagined when it is stated that though the Rifles led
the way at eight o'clock, it was twenty-five minutes
past nine before the car started, and half an hour later
before the extreme rear was in motion. Along the
line of the procession the people were assembled in
countless multitudes, and it is computed that a million
and a half of persons beheld and shared in the
ceremonial. Englishmen had come from all parts of the
world, and foreigners from every corner of Europe.
From Ireland and from Scotland, and from the
provinces of England, the wealthy, the curious, and the
mourning, had come in thousands for the one purpose,
and for no other; and "cheap trains" had poured for
several days the humbler classes from the least distant
country towns into our streets. And this vast multitude
of men and women had to concentre themselves on
ground not more than three miles in length, and not
more, at any point, than two hundred yards in breadth,
half of that breadth being taken from the public and
kept clear for the procession. Yet this mass, without
orders, without concert, took up their ground, kept it,
and dispersed themselves within fifteen hours, in
perfect order, peacefully and contentedly. Two thousand
policemen were sufficient to preserve undisturbed peace
in this mighty multitude.
The car arrived at the entrance of the Cathedral at
ten minutes after twelve. Under the dome, on either
side of the area, rose two segments of an amphitheatre.
Here were allotted out the seats of the two Houses of
Parliament on either side of the amphitheatre, the
foremost seats being occupied by the ministry, the
judges, and the high functionaries of state. In a small
space close to the nave sat the Oxford deputation; in a
large space to the east were an array of officers of both
services, forming tolerably broad belts of colour, blue
and red, bespangled with orders; and on the other side
sat the ministers from foreign countries. Above the
Lords and Commons towered two huge galleries fifty
feet high. In the nave, south and north, were seated
a dense body of citizens, fringed at the lower edges
with military. In the gallery beneath the organ,
devoted to Peeresses, were the Duchess of Cambridge and
the Princess Mary. The Duchess of Wellington sat
alone. In the gallery overlooking Ludgate Hill sat
Lord John Russell and the private friends of the Dean.
In the centre of the area was a platform, with an
opening into the crypt; and ranged round this were
seats for the chief participants. When all was ready,
the funeral service began. The choristers sang the
opening sentences of the burial office in magnificent
intonation; and as they slowly moved in procession
along the nave, they chanted the 39th and 90th Psalms,
to music familiarly known as the composition of the
Earl of Mornington, the father of the Duke of Wellington.
After them came groups of soldiers, and the
foreign marshals, carrying the Duke's several batons;
after these Prince Albert, with the sword of state borne
before him, and a group of officers following. The
coffin was conveyed upon a wheeled bier, the pall flung
back, and the white feathers of the Duke's hat waving
in the wind which swept up the nave. The car upon
which the coffin lay was partially propelled by the
persons in charge of the mechanical arrangements, and
partly by the private soldiers, gracefully placed side by
side with the generals who bore the pall. Among them
were Lord Combermere, Lord Hardinge, the Marquis
of Londonderry, Viscount Gough, Sir Charles Napier,
and Sir George Pollock. Close to the coffin walked, as
chief mourner, the Duke of Wellington, supported by
the Marquis of Salisbury and the Marquis of Tweed-
dale; each with the collar of an order placed round the
dark cloak in which all the mourners were costumed.
A group of these followed; and then a confused mass
of servants, soldiers, and the general public. The
procession took a considerable time to defile up the nave,
stopping every now and then to give the choristers
time; but at length, and after some delay, the coffin
was slipped from the wheeled bier to the platform, and
the mourners and pall-bearers ranged themselves around
it. The eldest son of the late Duke stood at his father's
head; the generals, his father's old companions in
arms, on either side of the coffin, and the foreign
marshals at the foot. Prince Albert, in a field marshal's
uniform, stood in the centre of the south side. As
soon as the coffin was placed upon the platform on
which it was to descend, the Duke's hat and sword
were taken away, and a cushion and his coronet
substituted. Dean Milman then read the remainder of the
service in a clear and sonorous voice; and the choir—
which, although it might have been stronger, contained
many of the "best voices in London—sang the "Nunc
dimittis" to a chant adapted from Beethoven, and a
dirge by Mr. Goss, the organist of St. Paul's, containing
striking trumpet passages, leading to the very solemn
and effective "Dead March" in Saul: in the midst of
which the coffin slowly sank away from the gaze of
thousands of eyes fixed upon it into the darkness of the
tomb. The disappearance was very striking. The
platform with the body stood for one moment as firm
in appearance as the floor; the next—both were gone.
Dean Milman resumed the part of the burial service
spoken when the body is in ground. At its conclusion,
Garter King of Arms, proclaimed the style of the
deceased in the usual form, reciting the brilliant
catalogue of the titles and offices of trust and honour held
by the deceased; a wand was broken, and the fragments
flung down upon the coffin. Then the benediction was
pronounced by the Bishop of London; Mendelssohn's
Dickens Journals Online ![]()