Despite a humble birth, Arthur Wellesley, the first Duke of Wellington rose to become one of the most prominent military leaders of his time (via Branch). Fighting in the Napoleonic Wars and winning against steep odds, he really distinguished himself as a hero by being one of the leading figures in Napoleon‘s defeat at Waterloo. His reputation upon returning to England was much less impressive, though, as he cared little for the plight of the poor in newly-industrialized Victorian England.

Nonetheless, his funeral in 1852 was a spectacle the level of which had never been seen before. Huge and ridiculously opulent funerals were a thing in England at the time, regardless of social status, and Wellesley’s funeral was the pinnacle of that, literally no expense spared for it. Tens of thousands of pounds went into an 11-ton bronze funeral car with lavish decorations, thousands of newly-installed lights, a Roman funeral arch for the procession to pass under, and merchandise. Yeah, literal merchandise for Wellesley; his death was commercialized and kept in the public eye for months.

About 1.5 million people arrived to watch the miles-long procession, bearing the dreary and stormy weather for a few hours, and despite the lavishness (which some accepted and others absolutely detested), the entire affair was really pretty solemn and orderly.

In the world of Indian politics, Bal Thackeray was a controversial figure. The founder of the Shiv Sena party — and the one who was largely responsible for its prominence as a Hindu nationalist movement — Thackeray was both loved and feared (via CNN). He’d been behind the renaming of Bombay to Mumbai, breaking away from its colonial past (via BBC). But at the same time, he was also blamed heavily for inciting tensions and brewing conflict between Hindus and Muslims.

So, yeah, that’s a mixed bag, but his followers absolutely loved him. And that meant that when news came of his death in 2012, they refused to believe it (via The Hindu). It didn’t quite seem real, and his followers began to feel lost without him to lead them. Eventually, though, reality and mourning set in as shops and businesses closed down.

When it came to the funeral, somewhere around two million people were expected, and the guess turned out not to be that far off. Indian media reported that about 1.5 million people did fill the streets and crowd close together, a dense sea of humanity surrounding the car that carried his body through the city.

Originally enlisted as a soldier in Pakistan’s army, Oxford Reference credits Ziaur Rahman as the principal leader in an uprising that led to Bangladesh’s independence from Pakistan. Upon returning home and through a series of coups, Rahman became the president of Bangladesh, and a popular president at that, despite being generally classified as authoritarian.

He died pretty young, though, the result of an assassination in 1981 by a resentful rebel commander who was acting on personal, rather than political, motives, according to the Washington Post. People at the time feared what his death would mean for the future in terms of the old political feuds it could reopen, or the continuation of the slow but steady economic progress that the country had been seeing.

But aside from the political ramifications, the people also mourned, and the Pittsburgh Press reported nearly two million people gathering in the capitol, pouring through the streets. The gathering here wasn’t calm, though, with some of Rahman’s supporters fighting against the procession and trying to take the coffin away — something that they weren’t successful in doing. All that came of that was officials calling in the military for further assistance, and a death among the people who had crowded into the Parliament building to see the coffin.

You’ve heard of “Les Misérables,” right? You know, that musical where you hear the people sing about revolution, oppression, and justice, adapted from the novel written by Victor Hugo. As ISR puts it, Hugo was the hero of the working class. His writings embodied the revolutionary spirit with stories of heroism and humanity, inspiring the poor and oppressed. So, fittingly, when he died in May 1885, he’d requested a poor man’s funeral.

But that didn’t happen. The French government knew his death would draw crowds and prepared accordingly, placing his body under the Arc de Triomphe, on a raised platform almost half the height of the arch itself (via The Sydney Morning Herald). Electric lights, torches, funeral urns, and streetlamps lit with green flames sat at the base.

The government was right to set up such a spectacle, because over two million people showed up — more than the entire population of Paris at the time. So there wasn’t a single empty chair or empty table, with people flooding the streets at midnight and camping out. In the end, it became a big party, crowds made up of workers and the poor drinking and singing through the night, their cups always kept full thanks to the wine shops that stayed open, or the waiters walking the streets with more drinks. Those same people climbed trees and buildings to get a better view of the five-mile-long procession, filled with everything from suffragettes to gymnasts.

The wife of Argentinian President Juan Peron, Eva Peron had always wanted to make something of herself, as an article in American Funeral Director says, and by marrying the man who would become president, she had the platform to do just that. Using her power, she championed social issues by helping the poor and needy, building hospitals, and getting women the right to vote, and her supporters absolutely loved her, seeing “Evita” as the closest thing they had to a saint.

So when she died in July 1952 at just 33-years-old, the entire country mourned. (Literally. The next month was designated as a period of national mourning.) Her body was later put on display and during those two weeks, some three million people waited in up to 15-hour-long lines to file past and pay their respects. Tens of thousands passed by every day, kissing the glass cover, fainting, and weeping, with nurses constantly on standby in case anyone needed medical assistance (some did, and there were more than a few deaths recorded). Once those two weeks were up, the day of her funeral procession arrived, her body loaded onto a specially made gun carriage while two million people lined the streets, flowers being thrown down from balconies overhead while Air Force planes flew above.

Her body wasn’t immediately buried though, and instead went on a weird trip around the world before she was eventually brought back to Argentina in 1974, over two decades later.

One of the few on this list who wasn’t some sort of political leader, Umm Kulthum was a singer and artist beloved in a way that The Guardian says is pretty much unmatched in the western world. Hailed as “the star of the east” and “Egypt’s fourth pyramid,” Kulthum was one of the most famous singers of her time. But she was more than just a popular singer. She rejected the social norms of the period and managed to appeal to anyone, regardless of their status. At the same time, she embodied and supported a pan-Arab unity, bringing people together so well that the president at the time would deliver speeches right after her televised concerts.

Just about everyone loved her, so when she died in 1975, about four million people arrived to pay their respects, coming from all walks of life. The procession route was planned long in advance, and traffic shut down hours before it started. But those plans ultimately didn’t really matter, with the New York Times reporting that those mourners broke through the police lines to gather behind the coffin, chanting “Farewell to the lady!” And the derivation from the plans went way further than that, the officials actually giving up power in the procession to the people themselves, who took the coffin and carried it along their own route, taking a detour to march through the poor quarter of the city before her body was delivered to the cemetery for burial.

History tells the story of Gamal Abdel Nasser, the first president of Egypt who incited a military coup in 1952 to overthrow the European-aligned monarchy. Nasser was a highly and consistently popular politician during his 18 years in power, respected by leaders worldwide, embodying a spirit of pan-Arab unity, while also just improving the quality of life for the people he led.

So when he died in 1970, the people mourned. The state had planned a relatively small ceremony in Cairo with 40 major generals and 5,000 troops, as reported by BBC. The New York Times also reported that foreign dignitaries were also supposed to arrive (and did) to take part in the service. But that didn’t go to plan at all, as five million people arrived and flocked around the six-mile-long procession route. Mourners fought against the police, trying to break through the lines as soldiers tried to push them back with their weapons. The radio did what they could to try and talk everyone down, but the people continued to fight, wanting to take the coffin, to see and kiss and carry it themselves. At that point, the dignitaries were advised to leave, and it became an event more for the people, thousands of whom waited just at the end of the procession route, waving handkerchiefs to say goodbye.

That said, the mourning wasn’t limited to only Cairo, with many other cities around Egypt reporting incidents and similarly huge gatherings.

Considering the title of this article, it only seems fitting that the Guinness World Record holder for “most attended funeral” would be here. And that would be the 1969 funeral of C.N. Annadurai (pictured left). Annadurai was a chief minister of India, known for his skills as an orator and as a leader of the Dravidian movement (via FirstPost). His pragmatism kept the party alive, and he became something of a political icon.

And so after his death, millions flocked to Madras to pay their respects. And this wasn’t one or two or three million; this was 15 million people all converging on a single city (via DTNext). Insane, right? The city set up special transportation and trains just to help people get there, but even that wasn’t enough: most people traveling without a ticket and hitching a ride on top of those trains (with sometimes tragic results. Twenty-eight people died when the train passed across a bridge that had a roof over it). The streets were packed tight, so badly that VIPs couldn’t get to the service, many other people hanging off of trees and buildings all along the six-kilometer procession route, chanting “Anna,” over and over.

The funeral itself was actually really simple, only lasting about 15 minutes, but the wider effect on the city was insane. Madras just couldn’t handle the influx of people, food prices skyrocketed, and hotels were completely overwhelmed. By the end, the city was, well, sort of trashed.