He was an inveterate gambler, but, on the principle that "dog does not eat dog," whenever he played with the officers of his own staff, he always returned them the money he won from them: but he gave one of them, a Prussian Count, a lesson. Having won some £3,000 from him, he sent for him next morning, and read him a lecture on the folly of play, instancing himself as an example, ingrained, through the practice of a lifetime, and he ended his jobation by telling his sub. that he would return him his money, on condition that he would promise never to lose more than a, comparatively speaking, nominal sum a night. This the young man promised, and Blücher handed him half his losses, keeping the other half sealed up for a twelvemonth, when it might be had on application, if the promise had been kept. Captain Gronow, does not give a pleasant picture of Blücher. "Marshal Blücher, though a very fine fellow, was a very rough diamond, with the manners of a Common Soldier. On his arrival in Paris, he went every day to the _Salon_, and played the highest stakes at _rouge et noir_. The _Salon_, during the time that the Marshal remained in Paris, was crowded by persons who came to see him play. His manner of playing was anything but gentlemanlike, and when he lost, he used to swear in German at everything that was French, looking daggers at the Croupiers. He generally managed to lose all he had about him, also the money his servant, who was waiting in the ante-chamber, carried. I recollect looking attentively at the manner in which he played; he would put his right hand into his pocket, and bring out several rouleaus of Napoleons, throwing them on the red or the black. If he won the first _coup_, he would allow it to remain; but when the Croupier stated that the table was not responsible for more than ten thousand francs, then Blücher would roar like a lion, and rap out oaths in his native language, which would doubtless have met with great success at Billingsgate, if duly translated; fortunately, they were not heeded, as they were not understood by the lookers-on."