eight in the evening
I have forgotten his name ; but it does not so much matter at this time of day , his Grace and Governorship being as dead as Queen Anne . It began -LRB- the Burial -RRB- , on foot , from his house , which was next door but one to our Inn , and went first to his Parish Church , and thence , in coaches , right to the other end of Paris , to a Monastery where his Lordship 's Family Vault was . There was a prodigious long procession of Flambeaux ; Friars , white , black , and gray , very trumpery , and marvellous foul-looking ; no plumes , banners , scutcheons , led horses , or open chariots , -- altogether most mean obsequies . The march began at eight in the evening , and did not end till four o'clock the next morning , for at each church they passed they stopped for a Hymn and Holy Water . And , by the way , we were told that one of these same choice Friars , who had been set to watching the body while it lay in state , fell asleep one night , and let the Tapers catch fire of the rich Velvet Mantle , lined with Ermine and powdered over with gold Flower-de-Luces , which melted all the candles , and burnt off one of the feet of the Departed , before it wakened the watcher . It was afterwards my fortune to know Paris very well ; but I can not say that I thought much of the place on first coming to it . Dirt there was everywhere , and the most villanous smells that could be imagined .