they advanced, the whole Austrian army laid down its arms (October 20, 1805). In the _Memoirs_ of de Ségur we are given a personal glimpse of the Emperor which is perhaps more interesting to the average reader than the dreary narrative of march, counter-march, manœuvre, and battle. During the combats around Elchingen, Napoleon, soaked with rain, went to a farmhouse at Hasslach to wait for Lannes and the Guard to come up. There was a stove which threw out its comfortable heat, and before it sat a drummer boy, wet, cold, and wounded. Napoleon’s staff officers told the boy to get out, and go somewhere else. The drummer would not hear of it. The room was big enough for both the Emperor and himself, he said, and he meant to stay. Napoleon laughed, and told them to let the boy alone, “since he made such a point of it.” In a few moments the Emperor was dozing on one side of the stove and the drummer lad on the other. Around the two sleepers were grouped the staff officers, standing, and awaiting orders. Louder roared the cannon, and every few minutes Napoleon would rouse himself and send off messengers to hasten Lannes. While the Emperor was thus napping, Lannes came up, entered the room abruptly, and exclaimed: “Sire! What are you thinking about? You are sleeping while Ney, single-handed, is fighting against the whole Austrian army!”--“That’s just like Ney, I told him to wait,” said Napoleon, and springing on his horse, he galloped off so fast that Lannes, afraid now that the Emperor would rush into danger, roughly seized the bridle rein and forced him back in a less dangerous position. Ney was reënforced, and the Austrians routed. * * * * * In the midst of his own successes, Napoleon received the tidings from Trafalgar. Nelson had fought the combined fleets of France and Spain, had lost his own life, but had won so complete a triumph that England’s supremacy at sea was not disputed again throughout the Napoleonic wars. The shock to Napoleon must have been stunning, but he only said, “I cannot be everywhere.” Continuing his advance, he entered Vienna, November 13, 1805, and lost no time in throwing his army across the Danube, in hot pursuit of the retreating enemy. By a trick and a falsehood, Murat and Lannes secured the great bridge, and much precious time was saved. By a similar trick, the Russians deceived Murat a few days later, and escaped the net Napoleon had thrown around them, and thus “the fruits of a campaign were lost.” Murat gained the bridge by pretending that an armistice had been agreed on; the Russians made good their escape by duping Murat with the same falsehood. Napoleon’s anger was extreme, the more so as a blunder of Murat’s had come within a hair’s-breadth of spoiling the campaign of Ulm.