“All his arrangements having been effected early in the evening of the 17th, the Duke of Wellington rode across the country to Blücher, to inform him personally that he had thus far effected the plan agreed on at Brye, and express his hope to be supported on the morrow by two Prussian divisions. The veteran replied that he would leave a single corps to hold Grouchy at bay as well as they could, and march himself with the rest of his army upon Waterloo; and Wellington immediately returned to his post.”
To this the following note is appended:—
“The fact of Wellington and Blücher having met between the battles of Ligny and Waterloo is well known to many of the superior officers in the Netherlands; but the writer of this compendium has never happened to see it mentioned in print. The horse that carried the Duke of Wellington through this long night journey, so important to the decisive battle of the 18th, remained till lately, it is understood, if he does not still remain, a free pensioner in the best paddock at Strathfieldsaye.”
Lord Ellesmere, however, writing, as we have before had occasion to remark, under the inspiration of the Duke of Wellington, states in a review of a biography of Blücher that Lockhart is mistaken.[555] But it is curious that no statement whatever is given by him of the manner in which the Duke passed the evening of the 17th. His actions are accounted for only till dark.
The story is most circumstantially told in the journal of the Rev. Julian Charles Young:—[556]
“In the year 1833, while living in Hampshire, no one showed my wife and myself more constant hospitality than the late Right Honorable Henry Pierrepont, the father of the present Lady Charles Wellesley. * * * On one of our many delightful visits to Conholt, Mr. Pierrepont had but just returned from Strathfieldsaye as we arrived. He had been there to meet the judges, whom the Duke was accustomed to receive annually, previously to the opening of the assizes. After dinner, Mr. Pierrepont was asked by the Duke of Beaufort, who, with the Duchess, was in the house, if he had had an agreeable visit. ‘Particularly so,’ was the answer. ‘The Duke was in great force and, for him, unusually communicative. The two judges and myself having arrived before the rest of the guests, who lived nearer Strathfieldsaye than we did, the Duke asked us if we were disposed to take a walk, see the paddocks, and get an appetite for dinner. We all three gladly assented to the proposition. As we were stumping along, talking of Assheton Smith’s stud and hounds, one of the judges asked the Duke if we might see Copenhagen, his celebrated charger. ‘God bless you,’ replied the Duke, ‘he has been long dead; and half the fine ladies of my acquaintance have got bracelets or lockets made from his mane or tail.’ ‘Pray, Duke, apart from his being so closely associated with your Grace in the glories of Waterloo, was he a very remarkable—I mean a particularly clever horse?’
“Duke—‘Many faster horses, no doubt, many handsomer; but for bottom and endurance, never saw his fellow. I’ll give you a proof of it. On the 17th, early in the day, I had a horse shot under me. Few know it, but it was so. Before ten o’clock I got on Copenhagen’s back. There was so much to do and to see to, that neither he nor I were still for many minutes together. I never drew bit, and he never had a morsel in his mouth till eight P.M., when Fitzroy Somerset came to tell me dinner was ready in the little neighbouring village, Waterloo. The poor beast I saw myself stabled and fed. I told my groom to give him no hay, but, after a few go-downs of chilled water, as much corn and beans as he had a mind for, impressing on him the necessity of his strewing them well over the manger first. Somerset and I despatched a hasty meal, and as soon as we had done so, I sent off Somerset on an errand. This I did, I confess, on purpose that I might get him out of the way; for I knew that if he had had the slightest inkling of what I was up to, he would have done his best to dissuade me from my purpose, and want to accompany me.
“‘The fact was, I wanted to see Blücher, that I might learn from his own lips at what hour it was probable he would be able to join forces with us the next day. Therefore, the moment Fitzroy’s back was turned, I ordered Copenhagen to be resaddled, and told my man to get his own horse and accompany me to Wavre, where I had reason to believe old ‘Forwards’ was encamped. Now, Wavre being some twelve miles from Waterloo, I was not a little disgusted, on getting there, to find that the old fellow’s tent was two miles still farther off.
“‘However, I saw him, got the information I wanted from him, and made the best of my way homewards. Bad, however, was the best, for, by Jove, it was so dark that I fell into a deepish dyke by the roadside; and if it had not been for my orderly’s assistance, I doubt if I should ever have got out. Thank God, there was no harm done, either to horse or man!