On the morning of the 18th, colonel Ellis, of the 23d Royal Welsh fuzileers, issued an order that no man was to fall out of the ranks to assist the wounded. Upon the colonel being severely wounded, captain Brown ordered two men to follow and assist him to the rear; but the gallant colonel declined their services, observing, “There are not too many bayonets in the Royal Welsh, return to your post.” This strict adherence to discipline, and disinterestedness, no doubt cost him his life, and deprived the service of one of its brightest ornaments. (See Dispatches, vol. XII, p. 610-611.)
The day before the battle of Waterloo, captain Elphinstone, of the 7th hussars, was grievously wounded and taken prisoner. His condition was noticed by Napoleon, who immediately sent one of his surgeons to dress his wounds; and perceiving that, from loss of blood, Elphinstone had swooned away, he sent a silver goblet full of wine from his own store. On the arrival of the Bellerophon in England, lord Keith presented his grateful thanks to Napoleon, for having saved the life of his nephew.
On the 29th of May, (prior to the battle,) we had a grand review of the cavalry and horse artillery. After the review most of the superior officers breakfasted with lord Uxbridge, at Ninove. Old Blücher was amongst them, and openly declared, he had not given the world credit for containing so many fine men as he had seen that day. Our infantry, although not such fine-looking fellows, still bore away the foremost laurels of the day of battle. On parting, Blücher wished all a good day, exclaiming, “We shall soon meet again in Paris.”
In 1818, Blücher was one of a large party at Berlin, where much merriment and jesting went on from the proposal and solution of enigmas. Blücher at once absorbed the attention of all the guests, by saying, “I will do what none of you can, I will kiss my own head;” and while all were wondering how that was to be done, the old man added with the utmost assurance, “This is the way;” when rising, he approached his friend Gneisenau, whom he kissed and embraced most heartily.
Blücher, when at dinner with the ministers of several different states of Europe, gave as a toast, “May the diplomatists not again spoil with their pens, that which the armies have with so much cost won with their swords!”
Happening to meet the Prussian minister, prince Hardenberg, he thus boldly addressed him, “I only wish I had you gentlemen of the pen, exposed for once to a pretty smart skirmishing fire, that you might learn what it is when the soldier is obliged to repair with his life’s blood the errors which you so thoughtlessly commit on paper.”
The following fact shows that no personal considerations restrained him from indulging in his splenetic humour against the great diplomatist of the day:
Nearly everybody knows that, immediately after the convention of Paris, Blücher was desirous to destroy the bridge of Jena, and that he would undoubtedly have carried his intentions into effect, had it not been for the urgent representations of the duke of Wellington.
On that occasion, count von der Golz, formerly his aide-de-camp, and then Prussian ambassador in Paris, made a written application to him in behalf and in the name of prince Talleyrand, beseeching the preservation of the bridge. Blücher replied in his own hand-writing, “I have resolved upon blowing up the bridge, and I cannot conceal from your Excellency how much pleasure it would afford me, if Monsieur de Talleyrand would previously station himself upon it; and I beg you will make my wish known to him.”
When Blücher was at Oxford, in 1814, with the emperors and kings, the Prince Regent and the duke of Wellington, he received an intimation that the heads of the University intended to confer upon him the dignity of a Doctor. Blücher, who never dreamed of becoming one of the learned, could not refrain from laughter, and jocularly remarked, “Well, if I am to be a doctor, they cannot do less than make Gneisenau an apothecary: for we both work together; and it is he who has to make up the pills, which I am in the habit of administering[110].”