| Author(s) | Friedrich Engels |
|---|---|
| Written | 3 April 1854 |
ENGELS TO MARX
IN LONDON
Manchester, 3 April 1854
Dear Marx,
The crossing of the Danube is of a purely defensive nature. It is proof that the Russians are withdrawing from the greater part of Wallachia. They have had 7 infantry divisions in Wallachia, one in reserve at Ismail and, behind it, Cheodayev's corps, making 3 more divisions. Cheodayev can, at the very best, be at Jassy. The remaining 8 divisions, including cavalry, etc., etc., amount to less than 110,000 men. Hence, with the possibility of an Anglo-French landing in their rear, it behoves them to secure the most favourable position in which they will not be cut off, and with the minimum possible sacrifice of ground. Here they had only 2 alternatives: Either a direct withdrawal to the Sereth, this and the Lower Danube being chosen as the line of defence (Fokshani, Galatz, Ismail) or, 2. a DASH to the Dobrudja, shifting the front to Kustendje, Hirsova, Oltenitza and Bucharest, with Trajan's Wall, Danube and Argish as the first line of defence, Buseo as the second, and Sereth as the third. This, at any rate, is the best plan, especially since new ground would be gained on one wing to make up for that abandoned on the other, and thus the retreat would look like an advance, and military decorum would be preserved. Possession of the Dobrudja would shorten the Russian front and, if the worst came to the worst, would leave open the line of withdrawal to Chotin on the Dniester, even if there were landings at Akkerman or Odessa.[1]
Things seem to be working out with The Daily News. I didn't write until last week,[2] after I had observed the English proprieties by obtaining a REFERENCE from father Watts, who also writes for it (father Watts, BY THE BY, has given up his SHOP and is now MANAGING DIRECTOR of a PEOPLES PROVIDENT ASSURANCE CO. in which capacity he will shortly be setting himself up in your vicinity, 47 Charing Cross [Road]. He and all his officials are letting their beards grow and look like Wasserpolacken). Today I've had a letter from the CHIEF EDITOR, Lincoln, who seems altogether agreeable (I had offered to start off with articles on the Russian army, navy and fortifications), and he is eager for me to send him the articles.[3] So I don't feel at all nervous. That the fellows are in a quandary as regards things military is evident from their acceptance of Schimmelpfennigian nonsense of a kind totally incomprehensible to anyone unacquainted with Bülow's books, and my racily written and unlaboured letter will have opened up for them prospects of quite a different order. Once they have got interested in my stuff (N.B. I asked for money straight away), I intend really to impress the jackasses. Tomorrow I shall send them something no one else can provide: plans of Hirsova, Matchin, Isaktsha and Tultsha. This business has really taken a load off my mind, for a source of cash was absolutely necessary. If all goes well, in the summer, when my old man comes over, I shall chuck up commerce and move to London; but then I shall at any rate be coming over some time before Whitsun to make definite arrangements with the chaps.
Needless to say, Lupus had been out drinking with us. As usual, staggers off tight as a drum so that there's no holding him, loses his way, finds himself in a low pub at the opposite end of the town from where he lives. Treats 6 maquereaux[4] and 2 whores who were at the bar, shows his shekels, exits followed by the maquereaux, and so on. That's his ACCOUNT. However, there's more to the matter than meets the eye; for instance, on coming to his senses he didn't go home but went off with an Englishman, a total stranger, who put him up (not 200 paces from his lodgings) moyennant one shilling. In short, il y a là des choses que M. Lupus veut cacher, sans doute quelque vieille fille?
The story of the Russians' boulets asphyxiants[5] is nonsense. The French have something of the kind, but it doesn't destroy ships, merely kills people. You might send me Hammer some time, particularly about the more recent times. About Urquhart one of these days. It's bad luck about Pieper. As regards the money you can, of course, dispose of it as you please. I don't give a damn whether my brother-in-law[6] gets it or not.
Your F. E.