Heading a cavalry charge at Ligny, his horse was shot under him, and the French passed over him twice--once in advancing, once in retreating--and the darkness was his friend each time. Dragged by one of his officers from under his horse, he was borne off the field bruised, almost unconscious. In two days, he is leading charges again. Too generous to suspect an ally, he stands and fights at Ligny on Wellington’s promise of support, and when the support doesn’t come he still does not suspect his ally of calculating selfishness. His staff _does_. Hence it was that his staff opposed him when he wished to yield to Wellington’s plea for help, on the night of the 17th. Long did Gneisenau resist Blücher, contending that Wellington meant to leave them in the lurch again. But at length the chief of staff consented that the promise of relief be sent, and old Blücher was happy. The promise was sent, and Wellington _knew_ it would be kept! Hence he fought at Waterloo, with the knowledge that his task consisted in holding out until the Prussians could arrive. The heroic struggle of Blücher to make progress over the terrible roads, his enormous energy, his magnificent devotion to the common cause, his unselfish renunciation of credit for the victory which was due to him more than to Wellington, raise him to the pinnacle of military glory. No student of this last campaign of Napoleon can fail to reach the conclusion that while Wellington was delaying at Brussels, sending out orders not suited to the condition of things at the front, and taking his supper at Lady Richmond’s ball, it was Blücher who was where he should have been, and doing what he should have done. But for the skilful retreat of Thielman, followed by the bold concentration at Ligny and the stubborn fight there, the French would have gone into Brussels without firing a shot. On the night of the 18th, Blücher followed the pursuit as far as Genappe, where his strength gave out. He went into the inn to go to bed, but before undressing, wrote his wife: “On the 16th I was compelled to withdraw before superior forces, but on the 18th, in concert with my friend Wellington, I have annihilated the army of Napoleon.” To a friend he wrote: “The finest of battles has been fought, the most brilliant of victories won. I think that Bonaparte’s history is ended. I cannot write any more, for I am trembling in every limb. The strain was too great.” Blücher was seventy-three years old. Napoleon and Wellington were nearly the same age, both being born in 1769, and therefore forty-seven years old. Blücher was notoriously a hard drinker, and had been so all his life. Both Napoleon and Wellington were extremely sober men; yet Blücher had shown more energy than the other two together. NEY A mournful interest must always attach to Ney.