The Sun.
London, England, 1825-11-08 00:00:00

FUNERAL of the late LIEUT.-COLONEL SIR THOS.
P. NANKIN.

There is no ceremony perhaps more calculated to fill the
mind with feelings of awe and veneration, or to call to the re-
collection of mankind the uncertainty of human life, and the
insufficiency of human glory, honour, riches, and power ; no-
thing more fully exemplifying the truth of holy writ, that
" we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can
take nothing out," than a military funeral. On the one hand
we see " the might, majesty, dominion, and power" which but
the other day was the pride of the piNssessor, the honour of his
family, the pleasure of his friends, and on the other, all these
honours vanished in one short hour, and the frail fabric, once
so proudly decked, dried up and withered. These are the feel-
ings which must have been excited in the breasts of all persons
of any reflection who witnessed the imposing funeral of the
late Sir Thomas Rankin. The solemn, chilling, slow,
unwilling pace—the gorgeous military accoutrements—the
sombre-decked charger, from whose back hundred had been
governed—the wailing of the band, and last the death-like
stillness pervading the numbers who witnessed the ceremony,
broken only at intervals by the hoarse and shrill clangor of the
trumpet, combined to render the whole sense awfully sublime.
On the present occasion every thing was calculated to add to
the grandeur and effect of the funeral which took place at our
Cathedral. The rank of Col. nankin rendering it tit that every
possible attention should be paid to his obsequies, it was deter.
mined that Croft's and Parcel's funeral service should bt
chaunted by the choir. The sublimity of the ceremony, as well
as the fondness which all classes and degrees possess for any
species of spectacle, it was expected woud attract many thou-
sands, and arrangements the most ample, as well as the most
efficient, were made to avoid the slightest breach of decorum.
As early as between ten and eleven o'clock in the morning of
Wednesday, the day of the funeral, a mounted guard patrolled
the path from the Elpingham gate, near the Free.school, to the
great west door, to keep the populace from blocking up the road.
About the •ame time multitudes were assembling, both in the
Close and Tomb-land, on St. Martin's at Palace Plain, and
along Bishopgate-street to the Barracks. The streets were
thronged, and every house was filled with spectators of both
sexes. The procession did not begin to move until twelve
o'clock, at which time it left the Barrack yard in the following
order:—passing up Bishopsgate-street, over St. Martin's Plain,
through the Erpingharir gate to the Cathedral.
The Firing Party,
(consisting of one hundred men.)
Troops.
Band,
( their istruments decorrated with black crape.)
Mr. Cox, the Undertaker.
His Assistants.
THE COFFIN,
borne by eighteen men.
The Pall, supported by six Officers.
The Horse, in his full Accoutrements, covered with black
housings.
Chief Mourners.
Relations of the Deceased.

The Children belonging to the Barrack Schools, in mourning.
The Wives of the Non-Commissioned Officers,
in mourning.
The Officers of the Regiment, with black scarfs.
The High Sheriff, Lord Stafford, the Mayor, Sir R. J.
Harvey, Mr. E. Wodehouse, fur. Hudson Gurney, Mr.
Brooks (Sheriff of Norwich), the Steward of the City,
Major Story, Captain Morrison, Mr. H. Francis, Mr.
Hawkes, Mr. K. Harvey, Mr. Deere, Dr. Yellow and
-Hr. Wright, with scarfs.
The Carriages of these Gentlemen also followed in the rear.

At one it arrived at the Cathedral door, where the soldiers
filing off to the right and left, lining each side of the naive to
the door of the choir, the body moved into the church, pre-
ceded by the band playing the dead march in Saul. It was
here met by the Rev. Dr. Fisher, the residentiary, the ltev.
Prebendary Wodehouse, all the minor canons and choristers,
who immediately began to chaunt, " I am the resurrection
and the life," and proceeded to the choir of the Cathedral,
where the body was rested opposite to the Bishop's throne,
until after the singing of the psalms, the soldiers filling the
body of the choir,, the band being stationed at the head of the
bier, and the officers, relatives, and friends, occupying the
stalls, when 'the_ procession again moved to the north tran-
sept, the military band still playing the dead march, where
the rest of. the service was gone through, and the body de-
posited. After it was terminated, three vollies were
fired on the outside of the Cathedral, each of which
were answered by a powerful blast from the trumpets
of the band, who still remained at the side of the grave,
which, reverberating along the arches of the Cathedral, pro-
duced a sublime-and almost petrifying effect. The procession
being again formed, marched. in quick time to the Barracks.—
The most creditable style in which the service was performed
denoted the attention which has been paid by the organist, Mr.
Buck, to insure and complete that excellence in the choir he
has been, so long endeavouring to obtain. Notwithstanding
the immense concourse of spectatorS, both on the outside and
in the inside of the Cathedral, the. utmost silence and decorum
was preserved, most attributable to the excellent arrangements
that were made for admitting a proper portion of the public
into the building; and for preserving order on the outside.—
. These, we understand, were entirely under the direction of Mr.
Cox, of Queen-,street, the undertaker; and it is but justice to
him to state, thatthe entire funeral was conducted in a manner
highly ereditableio his management, to the satisfaction of the
relatives and,friends of the deceased, and to the public.—( Nor.
:rich Mercury, Nov. 5.)