Emperor William was only a brigadier-general at the time of his accession to the throne.  It was not until several months after becoming emperor that he assumed the insignia of a general of division.  Inasmuch as some curiosity exists as to how a monarch can promote himself, it may be stated that old Field Marshal Moltke, who was then possessed of the highest rank in the German army, called one day upon William, and, presenting him with a pair of silver shoulder-straps, adorned with the insignia of a general of division, entreated his majesty in the name of the entire army, and in particular on behalf of the corps of officers, to assume the rank of a full general.

The same request was presented to the present czar at the time of his coronation, but met with a refusal on the part of his Muscovite majesty, for he pointed out that Peter the Great had throughout his entire reign contented himself with the rank of colonel.  There is also another reason which Nicholas did not mention officially, but which is well known to the members of his immediate entourage.  At the present moment his name figures on the army list as the principal orderly officer and personal adjutant of the late czar.  This is an office which can only be held by military men below the rank of general.  The moment young Nicholas acquires that rank his name ipso-facto disappears from the list of his dead father’s adjutants, and he is far too attached to his memory to desire this, preferring the minor rank of colonel and the association with his beloved predecessor, to all the pomp and glory of a generalissimo.

Of all the other sovereigns in Europe there is not one who travels with such an immense amount of luggage as Emperor William.  He seldom undertakes a trip without taking along at least one hundred huge trunks of the so-called Saratoga pattern, which fill several wagons of the imperial train; indeed, an entire special train is not infrequently chartered solely for the conveyance of his luggage.  Like some French elegantes at a fashionable seaside resort, he changes his garb five, six, and even seven times a day.  The consequence is that it is necessary to have at hand not only a vast number of naval and military uniforms, but also a diversity of shooting suits, hunting suits, civilian clothes, Tyrolese jaeger costumes, and even the kilt, sporran and tartan of a Highlander, for he is very proud of the fact that Stuart blood flows in his veins, and considers that he is quite as much entitled to wear the Stuart tartan as his uncle, the Prince of Wales.

All these clothes are not under the charge of a mere valet, but of a grand dignitary of the Court of Berlin,—­Count Perponcher-Sedlinzky,—­who holds the rank of privy councillor, and who is addressed as “your excellency.”  The count has a perfect army of dressers and valets under his orders, but it is he who is responsible, not only for the uniforms being in good trim, but likewise for their being on hand whenever the emperor happens to need them.