| Author(s) | Friedrich Engels |
|---|---|
| Written | 5 November 1852 |
To Marx in London
[Manchester, 5-6 November,] 1852, Friday
Dear Marx,
I am glad to hear that I am not the only sufferer. Strohn was here yesterday and the day before which, of course, meant some hard drinking; he left at three this morning and will have sailed today, I hope. For me this was the coup de grâce and means that today I shall be no good at all. For the same reason you won't get a translation today, not that it matters, since there's bound to be some steamer or other from Southampton which the thing[1] can go by and there certainly won't be even a Speech from the Throne in Parliament before the 11th.
So the documents, including the original of Stieber's letter,[2] arrived safely. Things will liven up once the gallant Public Prosecutor has done. One might strain one's faculties to the utmost, yet never succeed in producing inanities such as those uttered by Seckendorf. Because Engels has stated in print that the best communists made the most courageous soldiers,[3] it follows that Bürgers must be convicted of conspiracy. What the cross-examination evidently implies is that the accused harboured the intent—suspect de suspicion d'incivisme[4] —hence that it is a matter of perfect indifference whether or not the accused belongs to the League[5] —in other words, Mr Seckendorf, despairing of a verdict against Daniels and Co., positively invites the jury to acquit Bürgers and Röser too! To have become so utterly addle-pated, the fellow must have been swilling strong BRANDY AND WATER every evening for at least a week. Nowhere in all this mummery is there a single word TO THE PURPOSE. Incidentally, ever since the presiding judge[6] released particulars of the cross-examination, I have not for a moment doubted Bürgers' and the others' acquittal. Neither his plaintive manifesto[7] nor his circular tour could possibly be transmogrified into an 'enterprise' whereby the constitution, etc.[8] Or are the annals of history to read thus: 'In May 1851, at the time the Crystal Palace[9] was opened in London, the tailor Nothjung travelled from Berlin to Leipzig in order to overthrow the Prussian constitution and start a civil war.' In any case, the minute book has been set aside and, from Strohn's account, some of the jurymen are quite decent, namely v. Rath, v. Bianca, Leven, Leiden, Herstadt and one other.
I also believe that, in view of the way the case is turning out, we ought at all costs to publish something. But it would be advisable, if not essential, for Schneider and one of the accused to come over to London after the trial, in which case I should arrange to come up there for a Saturday and Sunday. Then, when all has been discussed, you could go back with me and the manuscript could be ready within a few days. Meanwhile, write to old Ebner, asking him whether he couldn't place this little pamphlet with Löwenthal—so far as I am concerned, we could go halves with him, both as regards profits and losses.
As for Bangya, the most immediate case against him necessarily falls to the ground if it is established that he did not address the last letter but one to Kothes.[10] I was completely flabbergasted when Dronke said in his letter that it was Bangya who had addressed the last letter but one, i.e. the last letter to have arrived safely. How did the fiévreuse[11] little man come to invent such a story? But the Collmann business looks fishy too.[12] This letter of Collmann's is written in exactly the same hand as the earlier ones from Eisermann[13] ; I shall send it back to you tomorrow, but it seems to me that we ought to hold on to it. Il y a là un faux[14] ? Before long we shall know through Weerth what is the matter with Collmann[15] ; in the meantime you should ask Bangya to explain how Mr Collmann comes to be writing under a false name, etc., and why 'the man', and what man, died, and how it is that he has now suddenly come to life again. And find out from Mr Bangya the name of 'the commission agent' in London whom he 'knows' according to one of the letters. And, so that Dronke may also have something to do, get him to make inquiries with a German bookseller about Collmann.
It is most odd that all the letters should arrive by carrier; there's never a postmark on them, and their tone is always so perfunctory and nonchalant that one can't help smelling a rat. This one again has been written from 'a friend's at an inn'. None of this seems at all BUSINESSLIKE, any more than does the absurd evasion that it is his business when the manuscript[16] should be published. Enough. Even if in this instance Bangya is acting as honourably as can be expected of a mendacious Slav, it nevertheless seems to me that his friend in Berlin is an archscoundrel. Now, however, everything should be cleared up since Mr C. figures here as the immediate owner of the manuscript, and also as publisher. If there is no bookseller of this name, that clinches the matter.
Anyway, the notion that a publisher can leave a manuscript lying in his drawer for years is a novel one and hardly smacks of the book-trade. To my mind, that story about the children's books is also a DODGE; in England such muck never comes out at Christmas time. Moreover, it is written in such a vague and disjointed way that Bangya could not possibly infer a firm order from it. Nor does one write at an inn on such rotten paper, which looks more likely to come from a Prussian government office. Enfin, nous verrons[17] ?
However, I myself can't possibly write to Bangya at this point, since I have no details of what happened between you and him, what he said to you, what other letters he may have shown you, etc. But we've got him now.
Saturday, 6 November
For physical reasons I did not manage to send off the foregoing yesterday. Since then I have read another 'Stieberiad' in the Kölnische Zeitung.[18] So the original minute-book has been dropped and in its stead H. Liebknecht has risen from the dead in the shape of a cash receipt. Monsieur Hirsch and company—for there must be a number of them—seem to have well and truly done the stupid Prussian police out of a lot of money. Il valait bien la peine,[19] their sending a police lieutenant[20] to London merely to find themselves imposed upon in this manner and, on top of that, fobbed off with the information about the most secret meeting at your house.[21]
But what is all this about Dronke's friend, Fleury, whom we here find openly and unequivocally described as a police spy? This will deflect some of the little man's wrath from Bangya. It would also seem that someone has blabbed about Stieber's letter, not that it matters; the way Stieber himself is drawing attention to this document and speaking of 'infamous calumnies' can only serve to enhance its effect.
Weerth is in Liverpool and will not be back for several hours so that I shall have to hold on to the letters from Schneider and Bangya[22] until tomorrow.
'By his own admission, Bürgers worked for the Neue Rheinische Zeitung'.[23] That, of course, is enough to send him to the gallows. I've never heard anything like it before.
This evening, no doubt, the Kölnische Zeitung will bring the first news that the tide has turned. The lawyers were perfectly right to keep everything back, if only they now really put their shoulders to the wheel.
Your
F. E.
Don't forget to send me by return copies of Freiligrath's poems about Kinkel.[24] We have already people in Bradford who want to ask him to read them aloud.
Hirsch must still be here, at least, he was positivement[25] here last week, for I saw him at the Athenaeum.[26] Another chap who is the spit image of him was here as well and this confused me at first. Perhaps he has a post here, or is looking for one? By the way, when you were last here[27] we met a fellow once in Broughton who cried 'Good morning, Marx', and we couldn't place him. It was Hirsch! So the fellow goes 'on tour'. As soon as the trial is over, he must be given a good drubbing.