| Author(s) | Friedrich Engels |
|---|---|
| Written | 28 January 1892 |
ENGELS TO HERMANN ENGELS
IN BARMEN
London, 28 January 1892
Dear Hermann,
I think it's high time I let you have some news of myself again, the more so because gently impelled thereto by business. For in your last statement you credited me with 79.40 marks, being a reimbursement by F. Engels & Co. This is presumably the cost of the power of attor- ney, certified by notary and consul at Rudolfs request. Otherwise everything seems to tally.
Then I should also like you to tell me how much the Schaaffhau- sens you are holding for me are actually worth today, i. e. the price and nominal value of my shares. The holding was reduced at one time and so I no longer know exactly how many I've got; there is a possibility I might prefer to get rid of the lot.
For the rest, I can't complain. My health is pretty good; my eye trouble has more or less cleared up and can be disregarded apart from the fact of my not writing by lamplight which admittedly is awkward in wintertime. I still enjoy eating and drinking, can still walk pretty briskly and am generally considered to be one of the youngest old men in London. On the other hand I have to restrict my smoking very considerably because, like good wine and, alas, Pilsener beer also, it tends to upset the cardiac nerves which, in turn, makes me sleep badly. But this only lasts from the New Year to the spring, during which time I take sulphonal once a week, and that sees me through the bad months as well—the sulphonal all comes from Bayers in Elberfeld—and, as soon as the weather is good and I can get out into the open air, things begin to look up again, and then comes the summer with holidays beside or on the sea, when I shall once again be on top of my form. Last summer I spent 4 weeks in the Isle of Wight followed by a fortnight in Scotland and Ireland,[1] mostly afloat; this is what always suits me best, now that riding is out of the question. If I could go riding here in winter and spend the sum- mer at sea, then I should certainly be on top of my form again. But since this can't be done, I shall have to content myself with climbing London's Chimborazo, namely Hampstead Heath, which is about the same height above sea level as your house in Barmen, that is 150 metres. Fortunately this suffices at a pinch to keep one's spirits up.
So far I have fortunately missed having influenza which, however, is a veritable scourge over here; people in my street are going down like flies, though they most of them eventually recover; but it seems to be a wretched affliction, and makes everyone so terribly depressed that it quite takes one's appetite away.
But now it is your turn to tell me how things are with you, what you and Emma are doing and all the children and grandchildren, Rudolf, Hedwig and their not 'inconsiderable appurtenances, the Blanks, the Engelskirchen lot—indeed, all the innumerable hordes of whom one simply can't keep track over here. Since Rudolf Blank left this country I no longer get any news, particularly since marriages and christenings seem to have become fewer and further between; these used to provide as it were milestones which enabled one to keep tabs on what you were all of you up to.
With love to Emma and all your family, the Rudolfs, Hedwig & Co. & Co.
Your old
Friedrich