From Fitzroy's Private Diary (Extract 162)

I have taken to having coffee with my breakfast. I suspect this is due to my American legacy, mother having hailed from the American States (I also believe this genetic heritage may account for my more rebellious streak although, unlike those ‘across the pond’, I have yet to cede from the Empire!)

Most of the people I encounter in the King’s domain still hold to an early morning tea. Some gentlemen even fortify their early morning brew with a touch of the grain (whisky - and one sincerely hopes they don’t use an aged single malt, for that would be a terrible waste). As it’s my desire that an early morning brew sharpens the senses, rather than dulls them, I would never, ever consider this option.

Personally, I find tea a soporific beverage. I suppose if a gentleman or, less likely, a lady, might be nursing a sore head from the night before, then such a gentle awakening may well be a relief. But on the rare occasions when I’d had to imbibe more than my constitution would like, I want to get through the repercussions as quickly as possible (tabasco sauce, raw egg yolk, and fresh pressed tomato juice generally recalibrate my system, if not my mood).

Thus, I have taken to having freshly ground coffee to awaken me first in the morning. Even the smell is delightful. Coffee, well ground and well brewed, is a perfect concoction, and it’s not too difficult to achieve. Even Alice, on occasion, brews a pot for me (not too frequently though as there’s such a thing as tempting fate).

I also prefer it without milk or sugar - as strong and as black as my heart some would say. Ha!