His resting-place was not fated to be that of his choice. “Victory, or Westminster Abbey,” he cried, forgetful that the Nation had apportioned the Abbey to be the Pantheon of Genius, and St. Paul’s to be the Valhalla of Heroes—and to the latter he was duly borne. I refrain from giving the programme of the procession, because of its length, which may be judged by the fact, that the first part left the Admiralty at 11 a.m., and the last of the mourning coaches a little before three. The Procession may be divided into three parts: the Military, the funeral Pageant proper, and the Mourners. There were nearly 10,000 regular soldiers, chiefly composed of those who had fought in Egypt, and knew of Nelson; and this was a large body to get together, when the means of transport were very defective—a great number of troops in Ireland, and a big European War in progress, causing a heavy drain upon the Army. The Pageant was as brave as could be made, with pursuivants and heralds, standards and trumpets, together with every sort of official procurable, and all the nobility, from the younger sons of barons, to George Prince of Wales, who was accompanied by the Dukes of Clarence and Kent. The Dukes of York and Cambridge headed the Procession, and the Duke of Sussex made himself generally useful by first commanding his regiment of Loyal North Britons, and then riding to St. Paul’s on his chestnut Arabian. The Mourners, besides the relatives of the deceased, consisted of Naval Officers, according to their rank—the Seniors nearest the body; and, to give some idea of the number of those who followed Nelson to the grave, there were one hundred and eighty-four Mourning Coaches, which came after the Body, which was carried on a triumphal car, fashioned somewhat after his flag-ship the _Victory_—the accompanying illustration of which I have taken from the best contemporary engraving I could find. The whole of the Volunteer Corps of the Metropolis, and its vicinity, were on duty all day, to keep the line of procession. At twenty-three and a half minutes past five the coffin containing Nelson’s mortal remains was lowered into its vault. Garter King-at-Arms had pronounced his style and duly broken his staff, and then the huge procession, which had taken so much trouble and length of time to prepare, melted, and each man went his way; the car being taken to the King’s Mews, where it remained for a day or two, until it was removed to the grand hall at Greenwich—and the Hero, or rather his grave, was converted into a sight for which money was taken. “EPIGRAM, ON THE SHAMEFUL EXHIBITION AT ST. PAUL’S. Brave NELSON was doubtless a lion in war, With terror his enemies filling; But now he is dead, they are safe from his paw, And the LION is _shewn_ for a _shilling_.”[25] “THE INVITATION.