| Author(s) | Karl Marx |
|---|---|
| Written | 31 July 1851 |
TO ENGELS IN MANCHESTER
[London,] 31 July 1851 28 Dean Street, Soho
Dear Engels,
I have just received your letter which opens up very pleasing prospects of a trade crisis.
I haven't written for about a fortnight because during such time as I haven't spent at the library, I've been harried from pillar to post and hence, despite the best will in the world, have constantly been deflected from writing.
After I'd been put off from week to week—at first, from month to month—by the two Bambergers, father and son,[1] with the promise that they'd discount a bill for me, after I had at length been summoned to the Jew's place for that purpose last Monday,[2] and had actually brought the STAMPED PAPER with me, the younger one explained that the old one, who was also present, could not etc., etc.
It was highly regrettable that I couldn't give those two Jews a box on the ears for such infamous stalling and wasting of time and for putting me in a fausse[3] position vis-à-vis other people.
Incidentally, I have Mr Conrad Schramm to thank, if not in fact, then in principle, for my having been bamboozled, truly à la Sancho, first for months on end, and then again for the past 6 weeks.
As you know, that individual left for Paris four or five weeks ago. In their usual fashion, our precious friends here—e.g. that booby Hain—have only just divulged what they have long known about the blackguard. But I am now forbidding them to raise an 'outcry', as it could only do more harm than good. Well, one evening—I don't know whether I've written to you about this before—I was told by Mr Schramm that he intended to leave in 2 x 24 hours. I therefore decided to take the necessary steps regarding League[4] documents and other papers still in Mr Conrad's possession. That same evening I learned through Liebknecht that Mr Conrad refused to hand over these documents, but had given them to Mr Louis Bamberger under sealed cover. And what made rapid action even more necessary was my discovery, upon emerging from the Museum[5] the following day, that Mr Vagabond wasn't leaving in 2 x 24 hours, but actually within the first 24 hours, i.e. at 2 o'clock the following morning. The precious Conrad had asked for a private rendezvous with me that evening, but I thwarted him by taking Lupus, Liebknecht and Pieper with me. Hardly had we sat down in an INSULATED pub, when I called on Mr Conrad to account for his doings over the documents, etc. As always when he makes a faux pas,[6] the fellow flew off the handle, declaring that he wouldn't hand over the documents since he needed them to vindicate himself, and other inanities. He was, he said, as much the League as you and me, he too was capable of deeds of deliverance. He had no idea, he went on, whether or not I was head of the district in London. Then Stirnerisms about his uniqueness in the party.[7] Some of the others, particularly Lupus, flared up; he threatened to make off, shouted, raved—all connu.[8] Once again I quelled the tumult, and since I know how to handle the lad, and no purpose could be served by a rumpus, the point being to get hold of the documents and that without delay—I succeeded with threats and smooth talk in persuading Mr Conrad to give me a note for Bamberger instructing the latter to hand over the sealed package to me.
This I obtained the following day. It contained everything, even including your and my statement against A. Ruge[9] which the precious Conrad had not after all sent to the Staatszeitung, probably because he had told his brother[10] so many lies that he was afraid of any—public—explanation.
At the same time this blackguard—thinking to further his own business thereby—had warned the Bambergers against me, telling them that I had exhausted the last of my credit to meet the last bill etc., etc. In general he has intrigued against and calumniated us, etc., in the meanest fashion.
Now—all this being a fait accompli—we mustn't, as the boobies here wanted to do and in fact did, cry out in self-righteous indignation, but rather let the vagabond continue for a while to believe he's still connected with us, until such time as we have the power and the opportunity to dispose of the fellow, d'une manière ou de l'autre.[11] If we were in any way to confront him with our knowledge of his dishonourable scoundrelly conduct, he might at this moment constitute a real danger to our German comrades.
You will believe, by the by, without my insisting, that I am damned sick of my situation. I've written to America to find out whether there's any possibility of setting up, in collaboration with Lupus, as correspondent here for a couple of dozen of journals. It is IMPOSSIBLE to go on living like this.
As to the negotiations with Ebner in Frankfurt, he writes to say that Cotta will probably take my Political Economy—of which I sent an outline—and that, if not, he will find another publisher. I should have finished at the library long ago. But there have been too many interruptions and disturbances and at home everything's always in a state of siege. For nights on end, I am set on edge and infuriated by floods of tears. So I cannot of course do very much. I feel sorry for my wife. The main burden falls on her and, au fond,[12] she is right. Il faut que l'industrie soit plus productive que le mariage.[13] For all that[14] you must remember that by nature I am très peu endurant[15] and even quelque peu dur,[16] so that from time to time I lose my equanimity.
Julius was buried about a week ago. I was present at the funeral. The precious Kinkel delivered a few platitudes at the grave-side. Julius was the only one of the émigrés who applied himself to study and was progressively moving away from idealism into our own sphere.
The precious Dulon is here.
Heinzen and Ruge are still thundering in the New York Schnellpost against the communists and against ourselves in particular. But the stuff's so abysmally stupid that it's impossible to deal with it other than by selecting, at some opportune moment, the funniest bits in Ruge's concoctions and thereby revealing to the Germans by whom, malgré eux,[17] they are ruled.
Have you by any chance read Proudhon's latest book[18] ?
Weydemeyer has written to me from Zurich. Karstens[19] is jailed in Mainz. He made an unsuccessful attempt to escape.[20]
Vale faveque.[21]
Your
K. M.
It would, by the by, be a very good idea if you were to write a signed article for Jones. He is making progress with his paper. He is learning. Ce n'est pas un Harney.[22] The Notes to the People is, accordingly, on the up and up, while The Friend of the People is going to pot.
First published abridged in Der Briefwechsel zwischen F. Engels und K. Marx, Bd. I, Stuttgart, 1913 and in full in MEGA, Abt. III, Bd. I, 1929
Printed according to the original
Published in English in full for the first time