le battle of Woerth on the 6th of the month, when the German army
under the Crown Prince of Prussia crumpled up the forces of Mcmahon, and
thus effectually disposed of the previously much-vaunted superiority of
the French military system, with its chassepot rifle and mitrailleuse.

With these initial victories of Germany we have not much to do, however;
for Fritz belonged to the Hanoverian division, which formed one of the
units of the Tenth Army Corps, under the command of Steinmetz, which did
not come into action until later on.

On joining his regiment at headquarters, our young recruit from Lubeck,
hastily summoned to exchange the pen and desk of a Dutch merchant's
counting-house for the needle-gun and camp of the soldier, discovered to
his great joy, that, instead of having to go through the tedious routine
of garrison duty--which he had expected would have mainly composed his
experiences of the war--the French invasion of Rhineland had so suddenly
collapsed, that the Teuton forces, which had been assembled for the
original purpose of defending the native soil, were now able to take the
offensive and in their turn invade the territory of the foe; and, thus,
he would be able to see active service on the field. This was a
consummation dearly desired on his part, for he was young and ardent;
although, perhaps, the order to go forwards was not quite so much
relished by some of his comrades, who were married men and preferred the
quiet of their home fireside to the many risks and discomforts of a
campaign, which, at the beginning, they did not look upon so hopefully
as their leaders.

"Hurrah!" he exclaimed one morning at Coblentz, when the division in
which he served was paraded on the Platz in heavy marching order, the
men hurriedly falling into the ranks. "No more sentry rounds now and
guard-mounting; we're off to Paris!"

"Don't you crow too loudly, my young bantam," said a veteran near him;
"we'll have a long march first, and then perhaps one of those confounded
chassepot bullets we've heard so much of will put you feet foremost, in
a way you won't like!"

"Bah!" replied Fritz; "I'll run the chance of that. Anything is better
than stopping here kicking our heels in this old town, while our
brothers are gaining laurels in the battlefield!"

"Ach, mein lieber," said the other; "wait till you've seen a little of
the reality of war, the same as I did four years ago at Sadowa; you'll
then think differently. It