| Author(s) | Friedrich Engels |
|---|---|
| Written | 6 July 1852 |
ENGELS TO MARX
IN LONDON
Manchester, 6 July 1852
Dear Marx,
It's a good thing that the manuscript[1] has gone off. I hope that copies will arrive in 3-4 weeks' time. You must have been really in the soup if, as antidote, you had to take Pietro Aretino's porcherie.[2]
Cazzo di Dio, queste sono forti.[3]
I am up to my eyes in work here. I still have eleven business letters to write today and it is nearly 7 o'clock. However, I will do an article for Dana,[4] if possible today and if not, by tomorrow evening at the latest.
I am just tackling Mr Görgey. At that time, drawing on Austrian bulletins, we of the N. Rh. Z. made splendidly accurate guesses as to the course of the Hungarian war, and prognostications, if cautious, proved brilliantly correct.[5] Görgey's book[6] is truly wretched, nothing could be more pettily invidious, infamously mesquin[7] and mediocre. The military part is good, Görgey to the life,— sudden transformation of talented ex-lieutenant into general, still bearing unmistakable traces of the company officer and tactical tyro. Hungarians who maintain that Görgey is incapable of having written this are jackasses. The genuine Görgeyesque and Austrian elements are as easily distinguishable here as are the two heterogeneous elements in Chenu. But otherwise the book may—with some caution—very well be used as a source. The fellow's malicious mediocrity is such that he cannot help making a fool of himself, witness the affair of the proclamation of Waitzen in which he reproaches Kossuth for having been shrewder in practice than in his bombastic speeches, or again, the very inept descriptions which lead the author, always involuntarily, into compromising himself. This mediocrity never permits Görgey to draw a true portrait of any one chap, but the thing has some pleasant traits and individual comments on Kossuth and most of the others. Despite the mediocrity of his malice, Görgey—as is everywhere apparent—was after all superior to any of the others—so what must the others be like!
At all events, I shall write about the Hungarian war.
Judging by the facts, the Paris plot would seem more likely to have emanated from our carrément[8] and crânement sinister Barthélémy, etc.— the daring artillery preparation is something qui sent son Willich de vingt lieues.[9] It is more than likely that Ruge, etc., also had a finger in the pie, but those cannons fashioned out of gas pipes and draped with tarpaulins are of Hohenzollern origin.
Your
F. E.
As for the Orleans, pourquoi pas?[10] To see the estimable Joinville or whomsoever treated à la duc d'Enghien would be delightful, and pourquoi le neveu ne ferait-il pas fusiller aussi son Bourbon?[11]