The Sun.
London, England, 1827-01-20 00:00:00

FUNERAL
f.
OF HIS LATE ROYAL HIGHNESS THE DUKE or ,foRK,

This morning the last solemn scene took place in the
1 -Metropolis—the commencemen* of the funeral rites of the
lamented Duke, of Yorie—and this evening- his remains
will be deposited in 'the Royal vault at Windsor among
his illustrious eget stors and near relatives. The day has
been kept in the metropolis with all due solemnity and
melancholy respect, for a Prince of the land has de-
parted. from among us, and the public sympathy is uni-
versal—their grief deep and sacred. We shall not hem
indulge in unnecessary expressions of sorrow, but pro-
ceed at once to lay before our readers a full account of
the proceedings, from the earliest hour up to a late period,
when the procession was left on the road to Wirelsor.
- At an early hour this morning, even long before day-
break,. the . neighbourhood of St. James's, and all the
Western outlets of the metropolis, presented a meet im-
Ipressive and-unprecedented appearance. Seeeeral Noble-
-inen's families, attracted by inntives of feverish curiosity,
took up their residence for the previous night at
their respective tradesmen's, its Saint James's-street.—
Shortly after five o'clock) the earliest hour at which
life seemed to- stir again iss-the metropolis,
" When the scant d:ay-beam glimmering on a crowd
BrouglA into ntAlce sorrow's sunken cheek,
• - Antl lit the 'sallow features of despair ;"
Ps'flemells St. James's-street, more especially towards
Piccadilly, presented the singular spectacle of lights in
every window. Carriages and pedestrians came pouring
lin from every quarter, east, west, north, and south—the
former in particUlar, set down their company in Saint
James's-street. Seats were babe obtained at all prices from
3s. to 5 and even 10 guineas, such was the enthusiastic eager-
ness to witness and pay every possible respect to the memory
of an illustrious prince and patriot. At half-past six o'clock,
the first detachment of the 17th Lancers, under the com-
mand of Colonel Lord Bingham, took up their stations in
St. James's-street, the soldiers lining the road on both
sides. From this time (notwithstanding the intense chill
of the morning) the crowd began to pour in
with the most alarming rapidity, extending from
. St. James's Palace for miles tip and down -the
road. The balcony, in front of White's Club-17.ouse, was
hung with black drapery, in the centre of which, on an
.escutcheon, were emblazoned the Royal Arms. Several of
the,tradesmen's shops were also clad—if we may use such
.an expression,—in deepest mourning, which added to the
`respectful melancholy that every where pervaded the
-crowd—the solemn stillness of their movements--the in-
.tense eagerness of expectation, resulting from a laudable
desire to attend, each individual in person, the obsequies of
their lamented Prince--together -with the dull sombre cha-
racter of the morning, wh'.ch, although frosty, was far
from being clear or clou
,
bably never forget
had manifestly
I:siess—lent solemn appearance to
the whole scene, whic,'
t those who witnessed it will pro-
N At about seven o'clock, the crowd
, every where increased : carts, cohurgs,
(from the
neighbourhood of the Elephant and Castle)
the '
numerous short-stages that ply along the Western road,
and '‘vhich had been pouring in from the city since the
early hour of five o'clock, all now came driving down at
j various paces—one or two with very dangerous and inex-
r cusable rapidity—towards the central point of attraction,
Saint James's-street. At half-past seven o'clock,
the day, which had been hitherto gloomy, began
to clear off, and the windows at the different shops
and private houses in the expected line of proces-
sion-were by this time thickly studded with elegantly
dressed ladies and • gentlemen, many of whom were
evidently of the very highest rank. This concourse of
people, assembled at the different windows, and at different
stories, of each house, from the parlour to the attic, was
most dense in St. James's-street, but continued in more
or less numbers all the way from Piccadilly to Knights-
bridge, and indeed for miles along the road. Temporary
wooden erections, so contrived as So ensure the conve-
nience of those who paid for .I'nem, one at the Royal Ho-
teleopposite the Palace I another at the end of Albemarle-
street, along whj.c.n a sort of tributary stream of people
came rushing down to join the main river in Piccadilly;
were fs',,ted up with most adroit expedition, and almost im-
dierely thronged. At the hoard fronting the building
erecting for Fenton's Hotel, and at the Guards' Club
House, stands were erected for the accommodation of
spectators. Entertainments, on an unusually liberal scale,
were provided at almost every other house along which
the procession was expected to pass ; at Sams's, in
particular, bookseller to his late Royal Highness,
preparations were making from an early hour,
for the entertainment of his numerous guests. Spe( ial
constables from the different parishes of the metropolis
were sworn in for the occasion, and stationed to the num-
ber of. about two hundred, under the immediate superin-
tendence of Lee, the high constable of Westminster, at two
yards distance from each other, on the line from St.
James's-street to Piccadilly. The officers too, from the
different police establishments, the whole under the direc-
t, tion of Sir Richard Birnie, were scattered promiscuously
among the crowd, in order to keep due subordination.
The Undertakers' men from the numerous large esta-
blishments in London, had been mustering from as early
an hour as six o'clock, in Cleveland-row and Palace-yard,
aid by eight o'clock all their arrangements were com-
pleted. At about half-past seven o'clock, or, perhaps, at
a quarter to eight, his late Royal Highness's carriage,
drawn by six iron-grey horses, entered the inner court of
the Palace ; this excited a very general sensation among
the surrounding crowd, and there was an almost instant
rnsh towards it, fraught as it was with so many various
• and melancholy asssociations. From this hour, and indeed
throughout the morning, the river, below London-bridge,
and the docks, presented a novel and beautiful appearance.
The ships, which at this season of the year, are invariably
numerous, had all their flags half-mast high. The various
friendly nations vied with us in their outward display of
mourning. Crowds of persons in all stations of life, were
to be seen moving from the Kent-road, Vauxhall, Cam-
berwell and Greenwich; towards Westminster Bridge, as
early as five o'clock, increasing in denseness till eight o clock.
At this hour two detachments of the 2d Regiment of Life
Guards marched from the Horse Guards to the Palace,
where they fanned themselves into line three-abreast, and
waited the moving of the procession in front of the Palace.
The men were accoutred in their usual uniform, but the
officers were all in full mourning, wearing black gloves, .
black crape over the ornamental' part of the helmet, the
sword•knot, and on the left arm ; their sashes too were
covered with black crape; and also a black crape scarf over
the right shoulder. On their first appearance, all eyes
were directed towards them ; they came down from the
Horse Guards through the Park, at a slow funeral pace,
and excited general interest by their exemplary and serious
deportment. The band did not accompany them, but a
single trumpeter preceded each detachment in perfect
silence. The trumpet itself, with the streamer attached
to it, was covered with black crape. The crowd in the
immediate neighbourhood of the Palace had now reached
its height,- but we were glad to perceive that a feeling of
good• order—and indeed a deeper feeling of respect and
attachment 'to the deceased Prkeee__pervaded every por-
tion of it. There was in no one instance, at any
quart& of the road through which the solemn ceremony
passed, that eager, and somewhat disreputable curiosity—
which so palpably evinced itself on the recent melancholy .
occasion,of the " Lying in State." Although an infinitely
greater number were assembled, less condensed, perhaps, .
than on either of the preceding days, yet. the whole
mighty' mass conducted itself with a decorum, which spoke
honourable alike to the feelings of the deceased Royal ..
Duke, and to those who now witnessed his last melancholy
departure from the Palace of his ancestors, to the Royal
vault at Windsor. Precisely as St. James's clock struck
eight, a sudden movement was made among the mul-
titude at Pimlico, towards the Park-gates of Saint
James's,_ in order .to see the hearse pass from the
- King's Mews to the Palace ; it had, however, by i
this time arrived there; and the chief undertaker and j
his assistants, were in the act of moving the Royal corpse
. rom the Roomi witereit had lain for the last two days in .1