His Majesty mentioned the well-known fact that “Uncle George” was one of the hard-swearing military type, now--it is said--practically extinct, and scattered volleys of oaths abroad at the slightest excuse; but somebody having once drawn attention to the great prevalence of “language” in the army, he, quite unconscious of his own shortcomings, set himself to reform the great organization of which at that time he was Commander-in-Chief. After a long harangue to the assembled officers, plentifully belarded with oaths, he concluded by saying: “I’m damned if I’ll allow this habit of swearing to go on: who the devil ever heard me swear?” Once he had planned to show to the German Emperor and the King of Greece, who were together in England, some pet improvements in drill which he had recently introduced, and of which he was extremely proud. After they had been feasted “right royally” at the officers’ mess, where plenty of champagne was consumed, the Royalties all mounted their horses and proceeded to Woolwich Common for the purpose of beholding the proposed exercises. But unfortunately the Duke had forgotten to take into account the fact that the day was Bank Holiday, and to his disgust and astonishment found his beloved common black with “trippers” (“fifty thousand of ’em,” sniggered the Emperor). The Duke was nearly suffocated with rage and disgust, and ordered the escort (eighteen mounted Hussars) to charge and disperse the people. The impossibility of this being, however, demonstrated, he himself proceeded on his great raw-boned charger to harangue the multitude, damning their bodies and souls with the greatest impartiality, and vainly trying to inspire them with a sense of the enormity of choosing this particular day for their sportive gambols on the Common. When he at last stopped, as the Emperor put it “for want of wind,” a dead silence fell for a moment on the astonished crowd, who were expected to melt sadly away; but suddenly a British workman standing near, equal--as British workmen generally are--to the occasion, took off his cap and waving it in the air cried out “Three cheers for ’is R’yl ‘Ighness the Dook o’ Cambridge,” which three cheers were immediately given with the greatest spontaneity and goodwill, the crowd seeming to enjoy being abused by Royalty. But, as the Duke himself afterwards sadly observed, “They didn’t budge an inch, Sire, not an inch. They stopped there all the same.” So the proposed military evolutions did not take place that day and had to be postponed to a more convenient season. CHAPTER VI BERLIN SCHLOSS The Prussian Court is awakened on New Year’s Day by the sound of trumpets blaring forth old German chorales as the band of the regiment in garrison slowly marches round the whole palace playing solemn and stately music.