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].” On the 15th of June, 1815, the French general Bourmont, colonels Clouet and Villoutreys, with three captains, deserted Napoleon, and came over to the Prussians. When Bourmont was presented to Blücher, the latter could not refrain from evincing his contempt for the faithless soldier. Some officers tried to impress him more favourably towards the general, by directing his attention to the white cockade which he wore in a conspicuous fashion: the Prince bluntly remarked, “It matters not what a man sticks in his hat for a mark; a mean-spirited scoundrel always remains the same.” In a private letter from Blücher to sir Hudson Lowe, written many months anterior to Bonaparte’s quitting Elba, after disavowing all desire for future triumphs, he expressed a hope, that if again called upon to act, it might be in conjunction with the general and army that had immortalized themselves in the Peninsula, when Wellington and himself would go hand in hand to victory. It was truly a prophetic epistle. “It has always occurred to me, however,” says the Duke, (upon the battle of Leipsick,) “that if Bonaparte had not placed himself in a position that every other officer would have avoided[111], and had not remained in it longer than was consistent with any notions of prudence, he would have retired in such a state, that the allies could not have ventured to approach the Rhine.” (_Dispatches_, vol. XI, page 435.)