She was certainly fortunate in her contented disposition; for she was fated, all through her life, to have much to put up with. Her second marriage, with its dubious prospects, seemed at first to be chiefly a source of difficulties and discomforts. The Duke, declaring that he was still too poor to live in England, moved about with uneasy precision through Belgium and Germany, attending parades and inspecting barracks in a neat military cap, while the English notabilities looked askance, and the Duke of Wellington dubbed him the Corporal. 'God damme!' he exclaimed to Mr. Creevey, 'd'ye know what his sisters call him? By God! they call him Joseph Surface!' At Valenciennes, where there was a review and a great dinner, the Duchess arrived with an old and ugly lady-in-waiting, and the Duke of Wellington found himself in a difficulty. 'Who the devil is to take out the maid of honour?' he kept asking; but at last he thought of a solution. 'Damme, Freemantle, find out the mayor and let him do it.' So the Mayor of Valenciennes was brought up for the purpose, and--so we learn from Mr. Creevey--'a capital figure he was.' A few days later, at Brussels, Mr. Creevey himself had an unfortunate experience. A military school was to be inspected--before breakfast. The company assembled; everything was highly satisfactory; but the Duke of Kent continued for so long examining every detail and asking meticulous question after meticulous question, that Mr. Creevey at last could bear it no longer, and {17} whispered to his neighbour that he was damned hungry. The Duke of Wellington heard him, and was delighted. 'I recommend you,' he said, 'whenever you start with the royal family in a morning, and particularly with _the Corporal_, always to breakfast first.' He and his staff, it turned out, had taken that precaution, and the great man amused himself, while the stream of royal inquiries poured on, by pointing at Mr. Creevey from time to time with the remark, 'Voilà le monsieur qui n'a pas déjeuné!'[16]