THE FUNERAL OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.

New Zealander, Volume 9, Issue 723, 19 March 1853, Page 3

THE FUNERAL OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.

(From the “Titties,” November 19.)

Yesterday the mortal remains of Arthur Duke of Wellington were conveyed from the Horse Guards to the cathedral of St. Paul’s, and there buried by the side of Nelson. A million and a half of people beheld and participated in the ceremonial, which was national in tbe truest and largest sense of the word. The pomp of a pubic funeral, the military pageant in tbe streets, the glorious companionship of the tomb to which lie has been consigned, and the overshadowing canopy of the sacred edifice under which he rests —these are the outward manifestations of respect which the name of a mighty chief naturally claimed from his countrymen, and which could hardly in such a case have been dispensed with. What, however, makes the difference between the obsequies of the Duke of Wellington and of any other great man ? It is this, that a long life, filled with the most distinguished services, made him so well known, so thoroughly appreciated, and so heartily admired by all classes of Englishmen that his death has affected everybody like a personal concern. Grief, of course, in the usual sense of the term, is out of the question, for tears and lamentations may he dispensed with where the ordinary measure of our days has been so greatly surpassed : but sentiments sublimer far than sorrow are awakened by such spectacles its that of yesterday. Through the countle.-s thousands then gathered along the streets of London ran the strong currents of feeling and of thought which go to form the spis.-i of a nation. More or less clearly realised by all, each a ter his own bent of mind thought of his country and of him who, in the hour of peril, was her strong defence and tower of strength. His military genius and his civil services, dignified by patriotism, were the recollections swelling in ‘heir hearts, and therefore they tendered to his memory the willing homage of their reverence and gratitude. The pageant of the funeral afforded the facilities for doing so by a public manifestation, and we have now to describe, as best we may, how a free people celebrates the obsequies of a man like Wellington. Tbe spectacle was such as none of us can ever hope, or indeed wish, to see the like of again, for terrible indeed must be the condition of Europe ere a second Wellington shall be needed to terminate its strife. When the independence of England and of the world was assailed, Providence sent us a champion ; and as the myriads of his countrymen yesterday watched with the deepest interest the transit of his body to the tomb, many a heartfelt prayer must have been uttered that, should days of darkness again come and this land of freedom be once more threatened, God may grant us another Wellesley to lead our armies and win our battles.

Before daybreak yesterday, in accordance with tbe arrangements of tbe programme, and with the terms of the general orders issued, the troops appointed to take part in the funeral began to muster in St. James’s-park, in the Mall, and on the parade ground behind the Horse Guards. The coaches also, which were to join in the procession, were assembled there, and within a spacious tent workmen of all kinds, who had toiled incessantly the whole night through, were busily engaged in completing tbe decorations of the funeral car. Day broke heavily, the wind being loaded with moisture, the sky threatening-looking, and the streets giving the most unequivocal tokens of a night of heavy rain. It was as cold and cheerless n morning as could well be conceived, and one cou’d not help inwardly pitying (lie thousands of anxious and excited spectators who were standing it out, having never been to bed. As daylight came a dusk}’ mass of armed men, seen on the left side of the parade facing towards the Horse Guards, became distinguishable as the Rifles, their sombre uniforms harmonising with the occasion. The first battalion is at present on service at the Cape, and on the 2d battalion, therefore, devolved the honour of representing the corps at tbe Duke’s funeral. Looking to the right, the eye rested next, through the grey morning on the first battalion of Royal Marines and the 33rd Regiment, drawn up in column directly opposite tbe Horse Guards. To the right of these were the Fusilier Cold'tream and Grenadier Guards, the whole force forming on imposing array to British eyes, though small in comparison with Continental musters. At the east end of tbe Mall might be observed the head of tbe cavalry force, comprising eight squadrons from the most distinguished regiments in the service. There were the 17th Lancers, the 13th Light Dragoons, the Bth Hussars, the Scots Greys, the 6ih Dragoon Guard-, ■he Blues, and the first and second Life Guards, and gallant and splendid they looked on a closer survey, ns. drawn up with military precision, they waited the signal to start. It was of course impossible, except from a house-top, to take in at one view all the troops upon tlie ground and standing at the Hotso Guards. The infantry formed the most striking feature of the spectacle—their standards covered with crape, drooping heavily, and swayed about occasionally by the bearers, while the morning light glimmered faintly upon ihe serried rows of bayonets. As the morning advanced a brilliant muster of officers gathered near the gateway of the Horse Guards, some intent on having a good view of the funeral car, which was a great object of attraction, while others issued orders or made inquiries with reference to the procession. Lord Hardinge appeared at half-past seven o’clock, and Lis presence greatly accelerated the preparations. The coffin was removed from 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 up. 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. This was certainly one of the most impress.ve and striking features in the ceremonial, and the efi’ect of it will long be remembered by the multitudes who from every window, platform, balcony, and house-top overlooking the park, bad a view of the spectacle. The plan on which the order of procession was arranged is worthy of some notice, the more so as it indicates a praiseworthy desire on tbe part of the Herald’s College to follow in these matters the spirit of the age, to which heraldry like everything else, must sooner or later conform. To stamp the funeral with a military character, the troops led the way, the regiments of which the Duke was colonel having precedence. All branches of the service—infantry, cavalry, and artillery—were represented, to show the full scope of the Commander-ia-Chief’s office and of a Field Marshal's dignity. The veteran character of the deceased —his experience in war, and the length of days with which he had been blessed, notwithstanding its risks, are the next points illustrated; and, to realise these to the mind, the 83 Clelsea pensioners, the enrolled pensioners, and the corps made up of single soldiers from every regiment in the service took part in the procession. The East India Company’s army was also represented, to show the wideness of the sphere to which the Duke’s service had extended, and to recal the memory of those famous eastern fields on which he won las earliest laurels. From the reminiscences of his military career the symbolical significance of the funeral programme turns to less obstructive, but hardly

less interesting points. From his relations with his domestics to those arising out of public appointments, and connecting him with public bodies, the order of precedence rises, until at last the train that bears him to the tomb is swelled by tb© greatest names in the State, tbs Queen alone excepted. This was the least telling part of the procession as a spectacle, though the most remarkable as a tribute to the greatness of the man. The mourning coaches prepared for the occasion, and the carriages of our great nobles and men of highest mark and consequences, and certainly objects worth looking at, but they do not strike the eye like a brilliant line of cavalry, and even the ponderous vehicle which bears the burden of civic Majesty had its gilded glories eclipsed by the superior attractions of the military pageant. The long list of deputations and delegates belonging to our greatest corporate bodies, or representing the different orders of honour and merit, and the roll of Ministers and great officers of State, culminate in the name of his Royal Highness Prince Albert, and to him, in the programme, succeeded batons and coronet won by the deceased—the rewards and emblems of Lis military genius. Here, too, come the foreign princes and warriors appointed by their respective Governments, to represent them on the occasion ; and thus his career, his estimation among his countrymen, and his dignities, heralling the way, his body is borne to the tomb by eight general officers his most distinguished companions in arms officiating as pall-bearers. The chief mourner and relatives and friends of the deceased fellow’, then his horse, and, finally, the order of the procession ('reverting to the military idea) closed up with a detachment from every regiment in the service, under the command of General VVetherall.

Having explained the spirit in which yesterday’s solemnity was arranged, we now proceed to give some account of the manner in which it was carried out. As each regiment or body of troops filed off in the appointed order, its band led the way, playing the ‘ Dead March” or other appropriate pieces, accompanied at intervals by the roll of the muffled drums. Ihe men, of course, carried their arras reversed, which combined with the mournful music and the slow funeral pace at which they marched, had a singularly inposing effect. To the troops the mourning coaches and carriages, properly marshalled, succeeded} and the length of procession may be imagined when we state that, though the Rifles led the way at 8 o’clock, it was 25 minutes past 9 before the car started, and half-an-hour later before the extreme rear was in motion. Let the reader who did not witness the spectacle endeavour to picture in imagination the stately pomp of the military pageant passing the long column along the spacious avenue of the Mall, and then winding up Constitution Hill, while thousands upon thousands of spectators, in respectful silence, witness its progress. Let him fancy the departure of carriages and mourning coaches, broken at intervals by marsbaltnen, messengers of the College of Arms, trumpeters, pursuivants, and heraldic standardbearers. The strains of music, martial yet solemn in its character, rise, die away, and are taken up again at intervals, and at length the moment has arrived for the funeral car to move forward. As it formed by far the most magnificent and interesting feature ot the procession, some accounts of its general design and most prominent details will not he out of place. Ihe whole lower part is of bronze, supported on six wheels, and elaborated with an amount of skill and artistic feeling which deserves unqualified praise. Above this metallic framework rises a rich pediment of gilding, in the pannels of which the following list of victories is inscribed: Ahmednuggur, Assaye, Argaum, Gavilghur, Roleia, Vimiera, Douro and Oporto, Talavera, Busaco, Torres Vcdras, Fuentes d’Onor, Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajos, Salamanca, Viitoria, Pampeluna, Pyrenees, St. Sebastian, Nivelle, Nive, Orthes, Toulouse, Quatre Bras, Waterloo. On the sides of this pediment were arranged lofty trophies ofarms including spears,muskets,bayonetr, swords, and flags, and surrounded by the Ducal coronets and batons. A similar trophy stood in front, rising behind the arms of the deceased, cast in bronze, and surmounted by his heraldic badges and honours, including the tabard magnificently wrought and embroidered. Over the bier and its bearers, the gilded handles of which protruded from beneath, was arranged the sumptuous velvet pall, powdered with silver embroidery, bordered with laurels in silver, and showing the legend round if, “ Blessed aie the dead that die in the Lord,” and terminated by a magnificent fringe of silver two feet deep. The coffin, with the Duke's hat and sword resting on it, surmounted the bier, and from four great halberts rising at each corner was suspended a magnificent canopy, with pendent cords and tassels of the richest and most costly description. To this gigantic vehicle, 27 feet long, 10 feet broad, 17 feet high, and weighing from 10 to 11 tons, 12 of the largest and finest black horses that could be procured were harnessed three abreast. They were completely covered with velvet housings, having the arms of the deceased splendidly embroidered on them, and with head surmounted by nodd ng plumes they looked quite elephantine. Such was the funeral car as it fell into the line of procession surrounded by a swarm of undertaker’s men and having on eacli side five colonels on horseback, bearing the bannerols of the Wellesley family. On its way towards the east end of the Mall many members of Parliament and peers who had assembled at that point uncovered as it passed. When it had arrived opposi e the Duke of York’s column, the road, being in a soft and imperfect state, the wheels on one side became embedded in mud, and it was found requisite to call in the assistance of a large body of police b fore they could be extricated. In consequence of this little accident fears were entertained that the progress of the ponderous vehicle might at other points be seriously interrupted. Such, however, was fortunately not the case, and though stoppages constantly took place they were all caused by the rapid pace of the horses as compared with the progress uf Lite rest of the procession. We now proceed to give some idea, not of the pageant itself, for its length precluded the possibility of seeing more than detached portions of it at a time, but rather of the public reception which it experienced on its way, and of the unexampled spectac’e which the streets of this metropolis exhibited throughout the day. Words are, we ft el, completely powerless to convey anything like a just idea of a demonstration so marvellous. On no occasion in modern times has such a concourse of people been gathered together, and never probably lias the sublimity which is expressed by the presence of the masses been so transcendently displayed. The pi ogress too, of the procession imparted to it in this respict an almost dramatic unity and completeness for, from the regions of palaces and great mansions, and from (ho assemblages of the wealthy, the-titled, and the great, it passed, first, among great gatherings of the middle classes, then through thoroughfares swarming with myriads of the people, and finally closed its course at the lofty threshold of the metropolitan cathedral, the centre of London, now engaged by a new tie to the affections of the country by having deposited under its dome the ashes of England’s greatest son. The first remarkable assemblage of spectators that re ceived the procession on its course, after leaving the area of the parade, was collected on the long terrace ! balconies of Carlton gardens, and on the wide steps ascending to the Duke of York’s column. At the latter point an immense concourse had gathered amounting to many thousands. Few had availed themselves of the space within the railings of the park on either side of the Mall; but in the grounds behind Marlborough house many spectators bad taken up their position, and a gallery, had been erected in the gardens of Stafford-house, which was occupied by the Sutherland family, and a large circle of friends. When the car arrived in front of Buckingham Palace it halted for a short time, giving Her Majesty and the Royal Family, who were in the balcony, above the main entrance, a good opportunity of seeing it. The windows and parapets of the grand facade were all occupied, but the view into the court yard was left open, and this perspective of the royal edifice rendered it one of the most picturesque and effective coup d'ocil in the progress of the procession. Passing up Constitution-bill, as tbe car approached Grosvenor-gate, the numbers assembled within tbe park greatly increased, and nearly all the trees were filled with spectators. At the gate itself a bait was made, and the eye naturally turned in the first place towards Apsley-Louse, which was completely closed, and had a strange, tenantless, deserted look in the midst of the vast multitudes assembled all round it. The top of the Groevenor-P’ace was filled, as far as a sight of tbe procession could be obtained, with a vast sea of human faces, upturned and anxiously gazing at the pageant which swept along. Every window was filled, the housetops also swarmed with people, and the portico and tbe roof of St. George’s Hospital especially were crowded with human beings. Another striking point of view was formed by the arches leading into Hyde-park, tbe architec ure of which acquired a new expression from the manner in which the people had grouped themselves within, above, and around it. Like Apsley-house, Baron Rothschild’s mansion and that of Miss Burnett Coutts were kept strictly closed ; but at all (he other great houses along the west end of Piccadilly the windows and balconies were completely occupied by the families who inhabit them and their friends ; while the pavement on either side of the way was filled to the

kerbstone with people. The long screen in front of Devonshire-house was fitted up with spacious galleries, which were all crowded. The Coventry Club appeared for the day to be in possession of the ladies, who occupied its handsomely draporicd balconies. And now, as the procession approached the head of Sf. James’sstreot and passed across the entrances of streets diverging on both hands from the route which if was taking, a new feature of the most remarkable kind began to develope itself. The entrances of these side streets were completely built up with living masses of men and women, forming, to all appearances, a mound or rampart of heads, which were all duly and respectfully uncovered as the stately funeral car, swept by. '('he windows, too, as far as the eye could reach, bad people thrust from them eagerly gazing, and the house-tops, of course had their adventurous crowds of occupants. It. almost seemed as if the whole world had assembled to witness the ceremonial, for the people were everywhere built into the walls, swarming the streets, and clustered like hives on every projection and parapet. When St. James’-street was reached, the double view first, eastwards, along Piccadilly, and then down towards the Palace was singularly impressive. There must havo been 30,00t) people within range 1 of sight at this point, and the orderly and respectful behaviour of even the humblest among them, crowded and hemmed in as they were, cannot be too highly praised. The entire breadth of Picadilly was closed in with an embankment of men and women, numbers of waggons, carts, coaches and onsnibusses having been placed in the roadway to give their occupants a more commanding view. The line of procession now led along the region of clubs, the fronts of which were for the most part fitted up with balconies draped in black, and there, or within the shelter of wide plate-glass windows, sat immense numbers of ladies, provided with places by the courtesy and gallantry of the members. Crockford’s and the Conseivative club were the two buildings which seemed to hold the greatest number of people, and which made the greatest show in this portion of the line of procession. The car had reached the foot of St. Jame’s street about, half-past 10, having occupied an hour on its way there from the Horse Guards. It therefore, became evident that it would arrive at the cathedral in excellent time. At St. James’s Palace her Majesty and the Royal family had a second view of the procession, occupying for that purpose apartments close to the main entrance. The great clubs along Pall-mnll overflowed with visitors, and their handsome architectural proportions never looked more striking or beautiful than when thus animated and relieved by such vast assemblages of weil dressed people. The Oxford and Cambridge Club, the Army and Navy, the Carlton, the Reform, the Travellers, and the Athenamm, also swarmed with occupants, their balconies being hung with black, and hosts of ladies appearing in the best seals. Perhaps, along the whole route there was no single street which presented more objects of attraction, and greater facilities for observation to foot passengers than Pall-mall, and, yet oddly enough, its pavements were less encumbered than anywhere else, and the people who were on them moved along without interruption. At Waterloo place, however, a very different aspect in this respect was presented ; and the view up Regent-street alone towards Cockspur-slreet and on the right-hand side in the direction of the Duke of York’s column, was really astounding. In addition however to the number of people within one’s glance at this point, there was something particularly touching in the muster of old officers at the Senior United, many of whom looked with unusual earnestness at the great car as with its illustrious burden, to the roll of drums and the fitful strains of martial music, it rolled upon its way. The liaymarket and Trafalgar square were like Waterloo place, great centres of attraction. At the latter point there could not have been much less than 40,000 people assembled ; and the National Gallery, the roof of which was covered with spectators, borrowed from the scene a grace and animation which it never knew before. At Churing-cross, as along the entire route, nothing could be more remarkable than the decorous, and orderly conduct of the multitude, who preserved ao imposing and expressive silence as the car went by. The humblest man bared bis head i t the same reverential manner as his betters, and the only cry that was heaid nowand then, “Off hats!” Along the Strand and the streets adjoining it the multitudes thickened, both on the pavement and in the houses, and appeared, if i ossible, to grow denser. The first part of the procession was remarkable from the well-filled balconies of private mansions and assemblages of a well dressed commonalty. To that succeeded the display of the clubs, From Charing-cross a new phase in the character of the funeral pageant, and its reception became apparent. The demonstrations of respect became parochial, and the churches form the great centres for spectators. St. Martin’s-iu-the-Fields, St. Mary-le-Strand, St. Dunstan’s were yesterday honoured with larger congregations than had probably ever visited them before. Thousands of people filled the spacious balconies that surrounded them, and we trust that the funds which the parish authorities have been able to realise may be largo enough to be substantially useful to the charities to which they are to be applied. All the cross streets leading out of, the Strand presented in a still more stiiking manner the appearances which we have described at earlier points of the route. The shop windows had been turned to account in a most marvellous way, and inclosed numbers of full-grown people, compressing themselves for the occasion into the dimensions of charity-school children, and looking perfectly placid and resign! d under circumstances that would Ire ordinarily regarded as amounting to the peine forte el dure. It is rather a singular fact that the only attempt at a motto or inscription to the memory of the Duke was that suspended over the entrace to Exeter-hall—“ A’ cm sibi sed patriae.” It was probably felt that things of the kind in this country, where they are little understood, are best avoided, and that the obsequies of a great man were best celebrated by a great public demonstration of silent respect. At Temple bar the awkward operation of lowering the halberts and canopy of the car was performed with less difficulty than had been anticipated, and from that point to the cathedral all that we have said of the crowds assembled at earlier points in the route may he repeated and enlarged as much as possible without being overstrained.

The City police having their portion of the route guarded by a double line of military and barriers, bad, from the excellent arrangements of their Commissioner, few difficulties to contend against. The duties of the metropolitan force were of a much more arduous and extensive character, hut were discharged, nevertheless, in a manner which excited general and unqualified approbation. At two or three of the most crowded points, where the pressure was likely to be greatest, the assistance of the military was obtained, but only to prevent the posa.bility of mischief and not from any actual want of help. The men kept the line of procession clear throughout without any inconvenience ; and it is due to the public that they never were bettor behaved or less disposed to be troublesome The car arrived at the cn'rance to the cathedral about ten minutes after twelve, ami preparations for the removal of the coffin were immediately made ; but something was wrong or went wrong, and the consequence was a delay of nearly an hour and a half before the funeral procession down the nave could be formed. In the interval, and while the undertaker’s men used every exertion to faci.itate the unloading of the car, the entrance to the cathedral presented a singular and not uninteresting spectacle. There were old generals and fie d officers, the illustiious companions in arms of the Duke, enduring as best limy could the force of the searching November wind which blew keenly through the open doorway of the sacred edifice. The distinguished foreigners withdrew before it several times, and the clergy, who, in double lines extended along the nave, waited for the service to begin, vainly sheltered their faces in their robes. Garter and his colleagues stood it out bravely, and, after many efforts, at length succeeded in marshalling tne procession. It was a fine and imposing sight to see the muster of old veterans at the entrance during this detention —Sir William Napier sitting on a kettle-drum Sir Charles moving about with the activity of a much younger man— Lord Hardinge also vigorous and full of life; but most wonderful of all, the Marquis of Anglesey, with bald, uncovered head, apparently unconscious of the fact age stands exposure to cold less succe.sf’ully than youth. The display of orders, stars, and ribands here was quite overpowering. It was with regret that we observed the unseemly appearance of the entrance to the cathedral, with portions of the timber work unromoved, and the roughest marks of the carpenter painfully visible at its threshold, in all other respects the ceremonial was most fittingly and solemnly conducted, and the greatest credit is due to Messrs. Banting whose energy alone, amid divided councils and conflicting authorities, carried the arrangements through. As far as they were concerned nothing could be better managed. The great distinguishing feature of yesterday’s ceremonial remains however. The funeral pomp, splendid as it was, is nothing, but the million and a half of mourners will be remembered as a bistoiic fact —a shining proof ihat we have net forgotten to value patriotism, and that the memory of him who on so many fields defended the liberlies of hia country is embalmed in the hearts of her people. The following is the official programme of the procession.

1 x fa NTH Y. —Six Battalion!. Baud of the 2nd Battalion Ride Brigade. f 2nd Battalion Ride Brigade. I Band of the Ist Bailalion Royal * Marines—Chatham Division. Major-General Fane -s jiattalion Royal Marines. C Band of Her Majesty’s 33rd Rcgl. V Her Majesty’s 33rd Regt. Bands of the Scots Fusilier and Coldstream Guards. r Battalion Fusilier Guards. Major-General Shaw -J Battalion Coldstream Guards. (. Ist Battalion Grenadier Guards. Band o f the Royal Artillery. Amiurnv —Niue Guns of the Field Batteries. Band of Her Majesty’s l7lh Lancers. _ t Cavai.hy.—Five Squadrons, viz. 117 th Lancer« Band of Her Majesty’s 13th Light Dragoons 13th Light Dragoons Major-Gen. Jackson. Band of Her Majesty’s Hussar* j 3th Hussars i Band of Her Majesty’s Scots Grays 1 Scots Grays ' Bth Dragoon Guards Eight Guns of the Horse Artillery. The 17 Pieces com mantled by Colonel Whinyates, C-B. Band of the Ist Life Guards f Royal Regiment of Horse Guards Major-Gen. the Hon. * (Blue) H. Cavendish. "I 2nd Life Guards L Ist Life Or. irds The Troops moving in the Procession, and also those on duty in assisting the civil authori'ies to preserve order, and prevent accidents, were commanded by Major-General H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge, K.G. The Infantry, drawn up in columns in tiont of the Horse Guards, presented Arms and reversed Arms, and having sainted the Body moved oft the Parade at 8 o’clock, followed by Marslialmcn on Foot. Messengers of the College of Arms on Foot. Eight Conductors with Staves on Foot. Chelsea Pensioners, in number eighty-three, on Foot, (Who fell in at Charing Cross.) Twelve Enrolled Pensioners on Foot. One Soldier from every regiment in Her Majesty’s Service. Three Soldiers cf Artillery, and three Soldiers of Infantry of the East India Company’s Army, representing the Artillery and Infantry of the Three Presidencies. Thirteen Trumpets and Kettle Drums. Two Pursuivants of Anns in a Mourning Coach. THE STANDARD OR PENNON, Carried by a Lieutenant-Colonel, supported by two Captains in the Army, on Horseback. Servants of the Deceased in a Mourning Coach. Lieutenant and Deputy-Lieutenant of the Tower, in a Carriage. DEPUTATIONS FROM PUBLIC BODIES IN CARRIAGES. Merchant Tailors’ Company, in one Carriage. East India Company, in one Carriage. Corporation of the Tiinity House, in one Carriage. Barons and Officers of the Cinque Ports, in one Carriage, With the Lieutenant and Deputy-Lieutenant of Dover Castle, in one Carriage. Captains of Deal, Walmcr, Sandgate, and Sandown Castles, in one Carriage. Board of Ordnance and Ordnance Department, in one Carriage. Delegation from the University of Oxford, in Two Carriages. Deputation from the Common Council of the City of Loudon, in Three Carriages. (Who fell in here after Ihe preceding part of the procession had passed through Temple-bar.] Two Pursuivants of Arms. Band of Her Majesty’s 6th Dragoon Guards. THE GUIDON, Carried by a Lieutenant-Colonel, supported by two Captains in the Army on Horseback. Controller of the late Duke's Household, in a Mourning Coach. Physicians to the Deceased, in a Mourning Coach. Chaplain of the Tower, A Chaplain of the Forces in the Lon- f In a Mourning (ton District, L Coach. Chaplain-Genera! of the Forces, J High Sheriff of the County of Southampton. Sheriffs of London, in Two Carriages. Aldermen and Recorder of London; a Deputation consisting of Four Carriage*. [M ho fell in here after the procession had passed through Temple-bar ] Military Secretary. Companions of the Older of the Bath, represented by Four, in One Carriage, viz.;— General Sir Loftus Otway. Vice-Admiral the Hon. Joctline Percy. Lieutenant-General William Sandwlth. Sir Joshua Rowe. Knights Commanders of the Order of the Bath, represented by Four in One Carriage, viz.:— Lieutenant-Generai Earl Cathcart. Admiral Sir John West. Lieutenant-General Sir Hopetoun Stratford Scott, Sir S. George Bonham. Knights Grand Cross of the Order of the Bath, represented by Four in One Carriage, viz.; Lieutenant-General Right Hon. Sir Edward Blakcney'. Admiral of the Fleet, Sir George Cockburn. Lieutenant-General Sir George Pollock. Viscount Palmerston, Being one of each Class from the Army, one from (he Navy, one from the East India Company ’s Service, and one from the Civil Service. Heralds in a Mourning Coach. Band of Her Majesty’s 2nd Life Guards. BANNER OF WELLESLEY, Carried by a Lieutenant-Colonel, supported by two Captains in the Army on Horse* ack. The Lords Justices of Appeal. The Lord Chief Baron of tiie Exchequer. The Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas. 'ihe Master of tiie Rolls. The Lord Chief Justice of (ho Queen’s Bench. The Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster. The Chancellor of tie Exchequer. The Paymaster-General of the Forces. The Right lion, the Secretary-at-War. The Right Hon. the Judge-Advocate-General. The Master-General of the Ordnance. Tiie First Lord Commissioner of the Admiralty. The Secretaries of State for the Home and Colonial Departments. [Speaker of the House of Commons.] The Earl of Malmesbury, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. The Ear! of Derby, First Lord Commissioner of the Treasury. The Earl Marshal of England. Tiie Lord Great Chamberlain. The Lord Privy Seal. The Lord President of the Council. The Lord Archbishop of York. The Lord High Chancellor. The Lord Archbishop of Canterbury. [At Temple-bar, [the Lord Mayor, carrying the City Sword, joined in the procession.] Assistant Quarter- Assistant. ,C J2 masfer-General. Adjutant General, « ■g Aide-dc Camps to Aide-de-Camp to •§ Z the Deceased. the Deceased. £ j? Depnty-Quaitermaslcr Deputy-Adjutant- >3 c Gfncrai. General. e <5 Quartermaster-General. Adjutant-General. Q A Carriage of His Royal Highness Piiuce Albert, drawn by Six Horses, with the Gentlemen U«Be>-, the Equerry, and Groom of the Bedchamber to his Royal Highness. A Carriage drawn by Six Horses, with the Private Secretary, Treasurer, and Lord of the Bedchamber to Jits Royal Highness. HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS FRINGE ALBERT, in a Carriage drawn by Six Horses ; attended by the Lord Chamberlain of Her Majesty’s Household and the Groom of the Stole to his Royal Highness. Field Officer in Brigade Waiting. Sergeant Trumpeter. Heralds. Norroy King of Arms, in a Mourning Coach. Band of the Royal Horse Guards. THE GREAT BANNER, Carried by a Colonel, suppoited by two Lieutenant-Colonels on Horseback. [ Here, on reaching the Cathedral, the Dignitaries of the Church, meeting the Body at the West Door, fell in.] BATONS. Of SPi in— borne by Major-General the Duke of Osuna, in a Mourning Coach—Supported by Colonel Gabriel de Torres and Colonel de Cal vet y Lara. Or Russia— Borne by General Prince Gnrtchakoff, in a Mourning Coach—Supported by Majoi-General Count Benkendorff and Lieutenant-Colonel Tchernitzky. Or Prussia— Borne by General the Count de Nostiz, in a Mourning Coach—Supported by General de Scharnhorsl and Lieutenant-General de Massow. Or Portugal— Borne by Marshal the Duke of Terceira, in a Mourning Coach—Supported by Lieutenant-General the Count de Villareal and Major Don Manuel de Souza Coutinho. Or ills Nltherlanps— Borne by Lieutenant General the Baron d’Omplial, in a Mourning Coach—Supported by Captain Guillaume Tindal and Captain Gevers, Or Hauovf.r—Borne by General Hugh Haikett, C.P., in a Mourning Coach—Supported by Colonels Potcn and Marenholtz. Or England —Borne on a Black Velvet Cushion, in a Mourning Coach, by the Marquis of Anglesey, K.G.- Supported by Colonel the Duke of Richmond, K.G., and Major-General the Duke of Cleveland, K.G. fTho Coronet of the Deceased, borne A Gentlemen) on a black velvet cushion in a {Gentlemen Usher, j Mourning Coach, by Clartnccux King f Usher. of Arms. J Tiie Pallbearers, Eight General Officers, in Two Mourning Carriages. Band of Ihe Grenadier Guards. >■ / THE CORPSE, \ 2 I \ O b S Covered with a rich Black Velvet Pall, a 5, « 1 adorned with Escutcheons, I •=■= g I I o S -5 fe =O \ "P on a > 3 ° c■” 55 1 I cc, %£ _ f Funeral Car, drawn bv Twelve Horses, I * _ «.Sg I ' g ! decorated with Trophies and I S = (3 V Heraldic Achievements. / S. Gentlemen Carter Principal King of Gentlemen Latter. Anns, in a Mourning Coach. Usher. THE CHIEF MOURNER, in a long Mourning Cloak, aceompaned by Colonel Lord Charles Wellesley, Toe Hon. and Rev. Gerald Wellesley, and by the Hon. William "Wellesley, his trainbearer, in a Mourning Coach.

The Marquis of Salisbury, K.G., and the Marquis of Tweeddale, K.T., supporters to (lie Chief Mourner, in a Mourning Coach. Assistants to tV.e Chief Mourner. Relations and Friends of the Deceased. The late Duke’s Horsy, led by the Groom to the Deceased. Private Carriages of (lie Deceased and of the Chief Mourner. Band of the Royal Marines-Woolwich Division. Officers ami Men from every Regiment in the Service ; consisting of one Captain, a Subaltern, a Sergeant, a Corporal, and five men from every Regiment. Band of Her Majesty’s 03rd Highlanders. Carriage of Her Majesty the Queen. Two Carriages representing Her Majesty’s Suite. Carriage of Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Gloustcr. Carriages of Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent. Carriage of Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Cambridge. Troops closed the Procession.

ST. PAUL’S CHURCHYARD. St Paul’s Churchyard had been a scene of the utmost bustle from the early part of the morning, the more because, from the fittings-up of the cathedral not being completely finished in time, some, at least, of the doors were not opened at the hour promised, and a crowd of people provided with tickets were kept waiting in the churchyard. Even later than 9 o’clock, and when the cathedral was full, workmen were still engaged in knocking down temporary hoardings and otherwise completing their work. It hud been considered necessary to exclude the public generally from the churchyard, and the streets and pavement in front of the houses round it; and there is no doubt if that had not been done, it would have been impossible to admit the company to the cathedral without great disoi der. Carriages came up in such hosts that one who accomplished the last half mile in an hour did perhaps as well as most people. There was probably no better place for obtaining a favourable view of the procession than the front of ihe cathedral. Let the reader take his stand with us in the gallery outside that edifice, just above the western entrance, and let us say what we see. It is a gallery or balcony, which the passer-by may hardly observe, but it springs into importance on such an occasion as this. It is 1U o’clock in the morning, as we walk up the geometrical staircase, and step outupon the balcony, to look upon a scene already singular and exciting. A mart of commerce has become a garrison. St. Paul's is invested. In the enclosure before us Queen Anne looks down unconscious upon a guard of honour, at present waiting about in groups, ns soldiers do, their arms piled near the balustrades. There is a clear sweep of road in view ; the sun is behind us, and will be for two hours, and we can see everything as distinctly as possible all the way to Farringdon-street. You see the roadway clear anil empty, as you might see it at 4 o’clock on a summer’s morning, hut there is contrast enough on the pavement on either side of the street. There people are jammed as close as human beings can be, until the spot where Ludgaie-hill is intersected by Ave Maria and Creed lanes, beyond which the crowd may not come. The houses seem bursting with people—every window is full, and the roofs bristle with beads. Some of the roofs have awnings put up, to protect those who stand upon the tiles or lends from the weather. Everything speaks cf crowd—the street lamps are left lighted, either because the lamplighters could not get at them to put them out, or because they could not have lighted them again. We can hear the hum of an innumerable multitude. They are as quiet as such a multitude can well be, but every now and then raise their voices to a shout when seme person is in distress, or from any cause must be removed, or when an unfortunate dog rushes along, bewildered and alarmed. There is a stir among the soldiers ; they are getting into order. The life guards ride into the churchyard from Dean’s-yard. There is a slippery bit of paving at that gateway, and one of the horses falls; the rider has a narrow escape, but, though evidentlv much shaken, be is not materially hurt, and like a soldier, be mounts again and proceeds upon his duty. Later in the day another horse fell there.

A host of infantry now approach, advancing up Ludgate-hill in single file on each side cf the street. The train seems interminable. They pass ihe church, and clear off in an easterly direction. It is now eleven o’clock. These files of infantry have ended, and after an interval the general proces-ion coires. It is still military. Sometimes there is a succession of guns, sometimes dense masses of the Guards, At intervals there are the bands of various regiments. 11 is very striking, those successive bands ; as one passes by the church, and the music dies upon the ear, the notes of the next band begin to be heard, taking up the wail. Major-General his Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge, who commands the troops employed, is riding about, and giving the requisite directions. Now come the eighty-three Chelsea pensioners, wearing their medals ; it is a company that seem to excite general interest; the soldiers went past the church, — the pensioners go in. Next, the “one soldier from every regiment”—an interesting group. The procession now begins to be one of carriages and mourning coaches ; and the lime consumed in setting down their occupants at the door makes this part of the proceeding rather tedious. The Sheriffs’ carriages approach, but they are hardly in keeping with a funeral procession ; their gay decorations some signs of mourning about them on such an occasion. Ihe Speaker is therein bis quaint State carriage ; and the Lord Mayor in that capacious vehicle of his, which, after all, the citizens Lave seen in procession in this November before. Now come three royal carriages, with those noble horses which it is a treat to see; the third carriage brings Prince Albert, We cannot see him, but the salute as he passes the troops proclaims his presence. We miss the foreign batons, but it is because they are carried in closed mourning coaches. All eyes now watch for the funeral car. Jt is drawn by twe’ve black horses, three abreast, and covered with velvet, presenting such a dark foreground that we can hardly see whether the car is drawn by horses or not. The car is driven in at the churchyard gates, and drawn up in frontof the great western door ; the relations of the Duke are set down at the side en trance. After them follows that touching sight—the horse led after the bier of its master. There still remains a very interesting passage. Officers and men from every regiment in the service march past. The churchyard, from the entrance up to tbo car, is cleared ; the coffin is there before all eyes; the Duke of Cambridge, the Commander, stands at the gate with his sword drawn in his hand, and the men who represent the whole army of England march slowly and sadly by. There Las not been a more striking or effective circumstance in the proceedings of the day. The soldiers seem to be impressed with the situation. It is tiie final token of reverence for their departed chief. It is rendered in solemn silence. It closes the procession, with the exception only that the carriages of the Sovereign here most appropriately follow.

THE CATHEDRAL. It is, of course, impossible to give any idea of the simple and magnificently bold proportions of this great Christian temple to those who have not seen it, or some similar building by which they can form a standard of comparison ; still loss was its aspect yesterday capable of being rendered to strangers by any word-painting. Even those who best know tho building, which the genius of Wren has made the architectural chef d'oeuvre of London, could scarcely have recognised it without a little pieparation as it then appeared. A faint twinkling circlet of gas jets ran flickeringly round by the base of the grentdome, lighting up the limbs and featuies of the actors, in the huge subjects painted on the concave walls above, and seeming to endue them with a double life. In a line with the base of the dome, and stretching from capital to capital of the pilasters which in equal partition mark out the walls of nave and transept throughout the length and breadth of St, Paul’s, the same simple but most effective decoration was called into use, and lighted the base of the semicircular roof with a line of bright fire. Sweeping round the area covered by the dome a grand circle of seats rose from the floor to the furthest available height in the rear, spreading far into the transept in receding rows, and coining abruptly to a space of not more than four or five rows deep, where the broad pillars at the end of the nave cut off its further extension. The floor of the nave was covered with black baize or cloth, and at each side was a long bench, extending from the entrance to the circular area under the dome, behind which rose, for the space of three or four feet, a wooden partition, decorated, at intervals of two or three feet, by escutcheons of the laic Duke, on black satin with white borders. Rebind this partition were situated the seats intended for the military and naval officers present at the ceremony, placed tier above tier, so as to command a view’ of the procession to the area. Over tho western entrance and the sides of the transept were galleries, which w'ere filled by privileged ticket-holders. The seats at each side of the organ were also crow’ded, and the wide expanse of benches reserved for peeresses and their friends, which spread from the organ-loft almost to the floor of the area, were occupied by ladies, most of whom were in deep mourning. In the centre of the ; area beneath the dome was placed a frame about, 8 feet i high, by the same length, and by a breadth of 5 feet, ■ covered with black cloth, and some seats or hassocks

were arranged around it, of tbe same colour with white borders. DLcctly in the centre of the south sein » circumference of the area was fixed the seat o , Chancellor. Behind his Lordship’s seat were the places reserved for the House of Lords. To their rig , south-east side of the area, were the places reserved tor the generals and other high officers of our service. Opposite to the Lord Chancellor’s chair was placed that of the Speaker of the House of Commons, and behind it were the seats reserved |fcr members of that honourable body. On the left of tbe Commons sat the corps diplomatique. On the right of the Commons were the Corporation of the city of London and the other corporations which had sent representatives. On tie n 0 J of tbe corporations was the deputation frorn t je ni versify of Cambridge, while directly opposite to them, on tbe other side, and on the left of the Lords, came le deputation from the University of Oxford. It was intended at first that the four rows in front on each side of the nave should be occupied by military and naval officers, hut the struggle to get in at the early part ot the morning was so great, that the lines ol red and blue were somewhat broken in upon and diversified by black and white.

At first the general impression left by the scene was rather cold and unsatisfactory. The seats were not quite filled. The temporary population of the cat 1 coral was shifting and fitful, and some occasional sunbeams rather impaired the effect of tbe gas illumination. Jhe surpassing interest of the occasion, however, soon overcame the influence of all such trivial drawbacks. As the eye gazed the picture was filling with every colour and with every touch of art. It grew from a mere black gaunt skeleton framework of wood and stone, and sombre faces and heads, lighted by serpentine gas jets, into a vast dome, with wide spreading arras and wings, which embraced within its grasp all that this great empire can produce of genius, science, and statesmanship. From tho time the door was opened—about seven o’clock—the numbers continued to increase very rapidly, and as the arrangements for setting down the visitors, excellent and extensive as they were, did not meet their eagerness, many of them left their carriages and walked to the cathedral. The early morning was dark, windy, and wet, but, with rare good fortune for such a time of the year, the sight-seers in the streets weie favoured with fine weather, for it cleared up as the day advanced, though a biting cold wind, which whistled down the western entrance along the nave, searching the very bones of tbe spectators, reminded them forcibly and unceasingly that it was an English autumn outside. Many put handkerchiefs over their heads, and at last the cold became so intense that most of the persona in the back of the nave were compelled to put on their hats, notwithstanding the sacred character of the place. The old generals, with true military punctuality, were among the earliest arrivals, and the quarter of the area devoted to them was filled very speedily. The old admirals were equally exact, and every eye in the cathedral was soon directed to that quarter where orders, stars, ribands, and crosses, glittering on bright scarlet and blue, told of men who bad served their country and had fought by the side of the great warrior whose remains were approaching their last home. Sir C. Napier, with his eagle face, moving stiffly along from (lie effects of Lis old wounds—his brother, Sir William, with a frame, if possible, still more shattered by ball and perforated by bayonet,— Lord Gougb, with bis noble soldierlike bearing. Lord Seaton, Lord Combormere, Sir James McDonnell, Sir A. Woodford, Sir W. Co;ton,—these and many another gallant veteran, called one’s mind back to the days when Wellesley led bis ill-provided levies against tbe disciplined battalions of the groat Emperor, and taught a generation of soldiers who are yet among us the way to conquer.

A bout 10 o'clock the Due de Brabant, and the Comte de Flandres, sons of the King of the Belgians, entered the cathedral. They were dressed in the uniform of their respective regiments, the Guides and the Lancers, and were attended by Colonel le Comte de Moerkerke, Comte de Briey, and Sir R. Carswell. The young Princes, who attracted a good deal of attention, took up their places in the left amphitheatre.

Soon afterwards the members of the House of Commons began to make their appearance in detachments as boat after boat conveyed them to Paul's stairs. Almost the first who walked up the nave was Mr. Hume, accQjnpanied by Sir J. Walmesley. At 11 o'clock many honorable members had taken their places, among whom wore Sir J. Graham, Sir C. Wood, Mr. Keogh, Mr. F. Flaherty, Mr. Swift, and many others; and meanwhile, as every minute passed, the mass of uniforms grew denser and brighter to the eye, as the wearers climbed up from the floor of the nave and took their places in the front seats above, which were filled in a line, not very much broken, three or four deep, from end to end on both sides of the passage, with the officers of every branch of the service. As the sunlight shot obliquely in through the windows, and cast its rays down through the amber-coloured blaze of the gas, it fell with wonderful effect on the varied hues to be seen in the body of the cathedral. Here were the generals all scarlet and gold, dotted with admirals in blue and white; there the diversified uniforms of the representatives of foreign Powers, where Count Walewski displayed the uniform of France, though “ our old ally,” Austria was absent; again, the sable of Peers and Commons, the red and purple gowns of the corporations, tie black robes and white and red hoods of the university deputations, and the immense array of faces rising pile after pile, and diminishing into mero specks in the distance, beneath the arches of the upper galleries. At 11,35 the military bauds outside the western entrance struck up a dead march, which they played at intervals till the procession approached, and the funeral bell tolled solemnly, blending with the strains of the music in mournful unison. At 11,35 also, the 83 Chelsea pensioners, having black wands in (heir hands, marched into the nave in two lines and wheeling round, sat down in the seats beneatli the rows of officers. The poor fellows scemrd tired enough, and, with the steadiness of old soldiers, who had seen too much of the world to be interested in anything, they scarcely looked at the splendid preparations around them. They were followed by the men selected from every regiment in the service which bad taken part in the procession. In quick succession followed, in groups, the various bodies assisting at the ceremonial from the Horse Guards to the cathedral. Officers of the array, of the navy, of various foreign services—the great Ministers of State, and the judges, moved slowly onwards, filling up the nave with a rich stream of colour on which the eye rested without fatigue, while every accession added to the interest of the scene. The procession entered in the order which had been observed throughout. As each flag and guidon was carried to (he area of the place whereon the coffin was to lie it was planted in due order by the bearer.

The Commons nobly beaded by the Speaker, moved to their places; among those present, in addition to those already named, were Mr. Disraeli, Sir J. Pakington, Mr. Beresford, Mr. Christopher, Mr. Walpole, and about 300 other hon. gentlemen. Next came the Lords, preceded by the Lord Chancellor, in state. Among them were the Earl of Derby, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Earl of Malmesbury, the Earl of Carlisle, the Duke of Argyll, Earl St. Germans, the Bishop of Oxford, the Bishop of Winchester, Lord Melville, the Bishop of London, Lord Broughton, the Duke of Newcastle, Lord Lyttelton, Lord Campbell, the Earl of Cardigan, &c, r ihe Ministers moved round and took their places at the right hand side of the area in front of the Lords. Mr. Disraeli was seated between Mr. Christopher and Mr. Beresford. Then came the marshals and generals of Spain, Russia, Prussia, Portugal, the Netherlands, and Hanover, in their gorgeous uniforms, moving slowly onwards towards the area, amid the strains of sad music, till they formed in two glittering columns around the resting place of the bier, At a quarter past twelve, the Bishop of London and the Dean of St. Paul’s heading the clergy and the choir, proceeded slowly up the nave from the organ to the entrance to the receive the remains of the great Duke. Clothed in white, with black bands and sashes, the procession, thus headed, moved in two streams of two and two through the dignified and richly attired assemblage till they halted at the door, where they drew up in column four deep. A considerable delay took place in removing the coffin from the funeral car, which tended somewhat to impair the effect of the solemn ceremonial. For nearly an hour this untoward stoppage excited the anxiety of the spectators, who could not understand the cause of it; but at length there was an universal hush, and, as if moved by one mind, the whole of the vast assembly stood up in respectful grief as the coffin which contained the remains of the great Duke appeared in sight, preceded by the choir with measured tread as they chanted the beginning of the burial service by Dr. Croft. When the coffin was borne in, (he wind stirred the feather of the Marshall’s hat placed upon the lid, and produced an indescribably sorrowful effect, in giving an air of light and playful life to that where ail was dead. And thus, with the hoarse roar of the multitude without ns they saw their Inst of Arthur, Duke of Wellington, with the grand and touching service of our church sounding solemnly

Vrottfb tho arched dome ami aisles oflhenoble the glistening ... and U.™ gallant as well as of many a ge .11 multitude-with the bell tolling solemnly the tbe departed, taken up by the , j g ao . cannon, amid tbe quiet waving of nn ! | ,e -.u ”jjj surrounded by all tbe greatness of the pomp and glories of heraldic acbievem » cheon and device,—bis body was borne up St. • At 1-40 the coffin was slid off tbe moveable carriage m which it bad been conveyed up the nave to tbe frame m the centre of tbe area under the dome, which, os our readers have been informed, was placed almost directly over tbe tomb of Nelson, which lies m the crypt below The marshal’s hat and sword of the decreed were removed from the coffin, and in their place a ducal coronet, on a velvet cushion was substituted. The foreign Marshals and Generals stood at tne bead of the coffin ; at the south side of it stood his Royal Highness Prince Albert, with bis baton of Fie.dMarshal, in his hand, and attired in full uniform, standing a little in advance of a numerous staff ot ot. ficers. At each side of the coffin were British generals who had acted ns pall-benrers. After the psalm and anthem, the Dean read with great solemnity and im- • ressivoness the lesson, 1 Cor. xv., 20, which was fo - lowed by the Nunc Dimittis, and a dirge, with the following words set fo music by Mr. Goss “ And the King said to all the people that were with him,’ < Rend your clothes and gird you wjth sackcloth and mouro. And the King himself followed the bier. .. . “ And they buried him. And the King lifted up his voice and wept at the grave, and all the people wept. ’< And the King said onto his servants ‘ Know ve not that there is a Prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel? And now came the roll of muffled drums, and the wailing notes of horn and cornet, and the coffin slowly sank into the crypt amid tbe awful strains of Handel s “ Dead March.” The ducal crown disappeared with its gorgeous support, and in the centre of the group of generals and nobles was left a dark chasm, into which every eye glanced sadly down, and all knew indeed that a Prince and a great man had that day gone from Israel. The remaining portions of the funeral service were then performed. The congregation were requested to join in the responses to the Lord’s Prayer ; and tbe effect of many thousand voices in deep emotion repeating tbe words after the full enunciation of the Dean was intensely affecting.

“ His body is buried in peace, But his name liveth evermore," from Handel’s funeral anthem, was then most effectively performed by the choir. And then Garter King at Arms, standing over the vault, proclaimed the titles and orders of the deceased, “ whom Heaven was p leased to take from us Arthur Wellesley, he said, was the Most High, Mighty, and Most Noble Prince, Duke of Wellington, Marquis of Wellington, Marquis of Douro, Earl of Wellington, in Somerset, Viscount Wellington of Talavera, Baron Douro, of Wellesley, Prince of Waterloo, in the Netherlands, Duke of Cuidad Rodrigo, in Spain, Duke of Brunnoy, in France, Duke of Vittoria, Marquis of Torres Vedras, Count of \imiera, in Portugal, a Grandee of the First Class in Spain, a Privy Councillor, Commamier-in-Chief of the British army, Colonel of the Grenadier Guards, Colonel of the Rifle Brigade, a Field-Marshal of Great Britain, a Marshal of Russia, a Marshal of Austria, a Marshal of France, a Marshal of Prussia, a Marshal of Spain, a Marshal of Portugal, a Marshal of the Netherlands, a Knight of the Garter, a Knight of the Holy Ghost, a Knight of the Golden Fleece, a Knight Grand Cross of the Bath a Knight Grand Cross of Hanover, a Knight of the Black Eagle, a Knight of the Tower and Sword, a Knight of St. Fernando, a Knight of William of the Low Countries, a Knight of Charles 111., a Knight of the Sword of Sweden, a Knight of St. Andrew of Russia, a Knight of the Annunciaco of Sardinia, a Knight of the Elephant of Denmark, a Knight of Maria Theresa, a Knight of St. George of Russia, a Knight of the Crown of Rue of Saxony, a Knight of Fidelity of Baden, a Knight of Maximilian Joseph of Bavaria, a Knight of St. Alexandei Newsky of Russia, a Knight of St. Hermenegilda of Spain, a Knight of the Red Eagle of Branderburgb, a Knight of St. Januarius, a Knight of the Golden Lion of Hesse Cassel, a Knight of the Lion of Baden, a Knight of Merit of Wurtemburg, the Lord High Constable of England, the Constable of the Tower, the Constable of Dover Castle, Warden of the Cinque Ports, Chancellor of the Cinque Ports, Admiral of the Cinque Ports, Lord-Lieutenant of Hampshire, LordLieutenant of the Tower Hamlets, Ranger of St. James’s Park, Ranger of Hyde Park, Chancellor of the University of Oxford, Commissioner of the Royal Military College, Vice-President of the Scottish Naval and Military Academy, the Master of the Trinity-Louse, a Governor of King’s College, a Docter of Laws, &c. Then the late Duke’s controller having broken in pieces his staff of office in the household, handed it to the Garter King at Arras, who'cast the fragments into the vault. The choir and chorus sang the hymn, “ Sleepers, awake !’’ and the Bishop of London standing by the side of the Lord Chancellor, pronounced the blessing, which concluded the ceremony. And thus was buried, with all state and honour, the great Duke of Wellington. THE RETURN. While the service was proceeding in the cathedral, the funeral car was driven off in the direction whence it came. On the conclusion of the service, at a quarter before 3 o’clock, Prince Albert left the cathedral, and was escorted home by a party of the Guard. The rest of the assemblage then took their depaiture. The streets were much crowded the whole while, but the length of time that the people had been out tended soon to lessen the number. The St. Katharine, London, West India,and East India Docks, and Regent’s Canal, were all closed. The union jack was hoisted half-mast high on the pier-head of each dock, and by the shipping of all nations in the various docks, and we observed the tri-colour half-mast on several French ships. The great bell of St. Dunslan’s, Stepney, began tolling at minute intervals at twelve o’clock. The last minute gun announced that the tomb bad closed over all that was mortal of the illustrious warrior. The bells of all the churches in the Tower Hamlets were tolling at minute intervals throughout the day. Nine-tenths of the shops were entirely closed, and the rest partially so. The blinds of the private houses were down, and the shutters closed in all directions. Marks of respect to the memory of the great Duke were also paid in an especial manner throughout the country, and every place of importance has been emulous in imitating, as far as possible, the manifestation of the metropolis. At Portsmouth a general gloom pervaded the port and garrison, owing to the almost universal solemnity with which the inhabitants and authorities had observed the day of burial of England’s greatest and bravest soldier. The shops and private houses had been closed, or partially so, and the “ knell” was tolling fn.m various churches from daylight that morning. At nine o’clock the ensigns of all her Majesty’s ships and vessels were hoisted half mast high, which the captains of the Russian frigate and brig and tie Norwegian corvette also followed. The flags on all the garrison forts and bastions, the king’s rooms, dockyard, victualling yard, naval hospital, Custom-house, ihe Royal Marine Barracks, Guildhall, and all other public offices were hoisted. Minute guns, to the number of S3, the age of the departed hero, were fired, and the officers of the several ships, under the admiral’s orders, appeared in mourning, as did those on duty in the garrison. At Reading, the great majority of the shops remained closed during the whole day, while a few only were partially so. 'i he peals from muffled bells, the mourning atiire assumed by the people generally, the suspension of business, and the closed shops are all strong indications of the high estimation in which the venerable Duke was held. Divine service was performed at some of the places of worship, and appropriate sermons delivered. At Bristol the citizens manifested the sense they entertained of his merits and services by the universal closing of all the public edifices, banks, manufacturing and mercantile establishments, and shops of the city'. Full cathedral service, with appropriate music, was performed at the cathedral, and a sermon preached adapted to the melancholy occasion. Divine service was also performed at most of the churches. From au early hour in the morning the bells began tolling, and the shipping in the harbour had .heir flags hoisted half-mast. At Gloucester the day of the funeral was observed very strictly. The mayor, Mr. W. Washboume, issued a request to the inhabitants to close their shops, and this request was respected by all except the members of the society of Friends, who kept open their places business as usual—though they were not troubled with customers and issued a manifesto affirming the wickedness of observing the day or commemorating the death of one whose life had been dedicated to warlike pursuits. At C heltenham, upon the recommendation of the Lord ot the Manor and the local magistrates, the inhabitants closed their places of business, and the bells of the various churches were tolled cluiing the day.

At Won ester, the major, Mr.Padmore, i BSUed request that the inhabitants would observe the day h* closing their shops. This request was generally coJ . plied with. The town-council, at a meeting held * the previous day, resolved to attend divine service a* the cathedral in the morning. The Bishop of W orce ‘ issued a circular requesting the clergy throughout diocese to direct that the bells of their churches should be tolled at 3 o clock in the afternoon At Exeter all the shops were closed and all business suspended. Ihe mayor and members of tb« Town Council, the magistrates, the clergy, the member* of the Corporation of the Poor, the members of tl e Exeter improvement Commission officers of the mv* and marines in her Majesty’s service, and the gentry and citizens generally attended Divine service at the cathedral. the Right Honourable Lord Poltimor* with several of the nobility, was present, and never has the cathedral contained so vast an assemblage. An excellent sermon was preached by the Dean. At Carlisle, with the exception of the Quaker* (th # “ friends of peace”) and a few of their adherents, nearly all the shops and places of business were closed. At Liverpool, business was generally suspended. Nearly every shop was closed, and the streets preaen.* ted the quie't semi deserted appearance of the Sabbath, day. The flags on the public buildings, on many pr j. vate establishments, and on the ships of all nations in the docks and the river, were half-mast. The hells 0 f the various churches were tolled, and minute-guns were - fired from the batteries. At Nottingham, during the whole of yesterday, *h e inhabitants dosed their industrial establishments, and otherwise observed the day with as much solemnity y is usual on Good Friday and Christmas day. At Birmingham the day was observed with becoming solemnity, in compliance with the wishes of tha Mayor and Corporation, business was generally sag. pended, and the shops in all the principal streets of the town, with few exceptions, were either entirely or partially closed. The efforts of the so-called “ friends of peace” failed to produce the slightest observable effect upon the general manifestation of sorrow. At Newcastle-on-Tyne, at Shrewsbury, at Ludlow, and at Preston, every demonstration of respect to the memory of the late Duke was paid. At Leeds the feelings of sorrow on the mournful occasion of the funeral were unanimous. The Cathedral of St. Paul was crowded by the inhabitants, and a procession on a large scale of the mayor, the civic authorities, and the military, took place to the sacred edifice, to a tend divine service. The sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr. Hook.