But the brave field-marshal himself was at this time unable to join
in the movement. Since the battle of Laon he had been affected with
a violent inflammation of the eyes, aggravated by a fever. Confined
to his dark room, he was obliged to remain ten days at Laon,
suffering not only physical but mental pain. For how could he redeem
his pledge--how achieve a final victory over Napoleon--if, half-
blind and doomed to the captivity of a sick-room, he could not march
with his troops, and lead them in person into battle? Regardless of
the warnings of his physicians, he tried to brave his sufferings,
and, putting himself at the head of his troops, again advanced with
them. Finally, on the 24th of March, by way of Rheims, he arrived at
Chalons. But the inflammation of his eyes had grown worse on the
road, and gave him intolerable pain; the fever sent his blood like
fire through his veins, and what neither age, nor defeat, nor
disappointed hope, had been able to accomplish, was accomplished by
sickness. He grew faint-hearted--his disease destroyed his
enthusiasm. Longing for tranquillity, he remembered how beautiful
and peaceful his dear Kunzendorf was, how kind and mild the sweet
face of his Amelia, and with what soft hands she would wash his
inflamed eyes, and apply the remedies.
During the last march from Rheims to Chalons he constantly thought
of this.
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