| Author(s) | Eleanor Marx |
|---|---|
| Written | 29 December 1871 |
ELEANOR MARX TO WILHELM LIEBKNECHT
IN LEIPZIG
[London,] 29 December 1871
1 Maitland Park Road
My dear old Library,[1]
I suppose you'll be astonished at receiving a letter from me, but Papa is so busy that he has ordered his secretary to answer for him. Before speaking to you then of anything else I must give you his message. Mohr says he has been so busy that he could not answer your questions before—and that as regards Biedermann, you had only to compare your translation in the Volksstaat of resolution No. IX 'Political Action of the Working Class' with what he says to see that his was nothing but a police edition of them.[2]
Moreover no second Conference has been held.—
Now that business is attended to let us return to ourselves. No doubt you think that after all these years I have forgotten you. I can assure [you] I have done nothing of the kin'd. I remember both you and Alice[3] perfectly—at least I remember Alice as she was, now of course she must be quite changed. You I should know anywhere though I'm sure you'd never recognize me. People that saw me only two or three years ago hardly know me again. I should so like to see Alice, and you too. We quite expected to see you at the Conference, and I was much disappointed when you didn't come.[4]
I suppose you have heard of Jenny's and my adventures in France, about our being arrested, and cross-examined by M. le Préfet Kératry and M. le Procureur général Delpech.—Jenny and I on returning from Bosost, a small village in Spain (whither we had accompanied Laura and her little boy[5] who went [there] to stay a few days with Lafargue who had gone there to prevent being arrested), were arrested on the French frontier, and conducted by 24 gendarmes right across the Pyrenees from Fos to Luchôn, where we were staying. Arrived there we were driven to the door of M. de Kératry's house, kept waiting in front of it in an open carriage with two gendarmes opposite us for three quarters of an hour, and then taken to our own house. It was Sunday night and everybody out in the street. At our house we found the police who had in the morning searched the house from top to bottom, and had treated our poor landlady and our servant who were alone in the house very badly. Kératry had already cross-examined them, and we were informed that he would presently arrive to do the same for us. At last he came, for he wouldn't leave the park till the band stopped playing. Our room was already full of gendarmes, mouchards,[6] and agents of every description when the Préfet Kératry arrived accompanied by Delpech, procureur général, a juge de paix,[7] a juge d'instruction,[8] the procureur de la république, etc. I was sent with the Commissaire de Toulouse and a gendarme into a side room and Jenny's examination began, it being then about 10 o'clock. They examined her over two hours but to no use for they heard nothing from her. Then came my turn. Kératry told me most shameful lies. He got one or two answers from me by pointing to Jenny's declaration, and telling me she had said such and such a thing. Fearing to contradict her I said: 'Yes, it is so.' It was a dirty trick, wasn't it? However he heard precious little with all that. The next day when they came again we refused to take the oath. Two days after Keratry came and said he should in the evening send orders for our liberation (we were guarded by police). Instead of that we were taken off to a 'gendarmerie', and there we passed the night. The next day we were, however, let off, though we could not really move a step without being watched, besides we couldn't get back our English passport. At last we got everything, and arrived at last in London. Laura went through much the same adventures at Bosost, though not quite so bad as we, for she was in Spain. It appears that Kératry after the first evening did everything he could to get us free but Thiers wished us to be imprisoned. What was very amusing were the blunders Kératry and the police made—for instance they looked in the mattresses for bombs, and thought that the lamp in which we had warmed the milk for the poor little baby who died,[9] was full of 'pétrole'! And all that because Lafargue is Mohr's son-in-law, for Lafargue had done nothing at all.
There are a great many members of the Commune here, and the poor refugees suffer frightfully—they have none of them any money, and you can't think how difficult it is for them to get work. I wish they'd taken some of the millions they're accused of having stolen.
Now, my dear old-friend, good-bye.—Kiss all at home for me, especially Alice, and receive all our best wishes for the New Year. I must apologize for my dreadful writing, but I've such a wretched pen and almost no ink.
Once more 'A Happy New Year'
and believe me to be
Your affectionate
Tussy