| Author(s) | Friedrich Engels |
|---|---|
| Written | 14 April 1856 |
ENGELS TO MARX[1]
IN LONDON
Manchester, 14 April 1856
DEAR Marx,
I eagerly look forward to the BLUE BOOK.[2] But since I shall not have time for the process of chronological comparison to which you suhjected it, you might give me a few hints some time as to the main snags; I shall have to confine myself solely to the MILITARY side, which I shall go through carefully, comparing it with Sandwith's book[3] when possible. Up here we've heard absolutely nothing about Jones' coup d'état[4] and the consequent pother; I must certainly start getting The People's Paper again.
Never before has the speculation shown such sparkling form in Germany. Mevissen is king of the Rhine Province, has bought the
Indépendance jointly with Morny, and is setting up an international (HURRAH!) bank in Luxembourg (!). I have seen the jeremiad in the Preussische Correspondent. However, steps have been taken to ensure that neither Manteuffel nor von der Heydt suppresses the swindle; Crédits mobiliers[5] are being set up in Hanover, Leipzig
et al. and what these fail to accomplish is sure to be made good by unofficial crookery. The final phase of the gamble is now beginning: Russia is importing capital and speculation and, given these distances, these hundreds of miles of railways, the gamble may well develop in such a way as to come to an early and sticky end. Once we hear of THE GRAND IRKUTSK TRUNK LINE WITH BRANCHES TO PEKIN, etc., etc., that will be the moment for us to pack up. This time the CRASH will be quite unprecedented; all the ingredients are there: intensity, universal scope, and the involvement of all propertied and ruling social elements. What I find funniest is your worthy Englishman's unshakable conviction, that, in view of the 'sound' state of TRADE, nothing like that could possibly happen here. It is clear enough that no one is speculating heavily in industrial production, it being common knowledge that a modest amount of investment in direct production could bring about saturation in all markets within a year, and this particularly so long as the colossal calls on capital for communications persist. But
as a result of speculation in communications, even industrial production is increasing out of all proportion, though more slowly than e.g. in 1833-36 or 1842-45. This year cotton prices are rising rapidly despite a hitherto unprecedented crop of 3,500,000 bales, which looks no larger this year than e.g. 2V2 million bales would have looked in 1850. Moreover, relative to England, the Continent is taking almost 3 times as much as 5 years ago, as is proved by the following table of exports from America between 1 September and 1 April each year (in thousands of bales):
Export to England
over 7 months to France
over 7 months to other European ports
over 7 months
1856 1855 1854 1853
1,131 963 840 1,100
354 249 229 255
346 167 179 204[6] So the Continent which, in 1853, took 45/70 = 1/5 of the English figure, took 700/1131 = 5/8 in 1856. And to this must be added what was obtained by the Continent from England. As you can see, the growth of the industry on the Continent is out of all proportion to that in England, and the worthy British, BEING RATHER ON THE DECLINE, have every reason not to OVERTRADE in their cotton industry; 1853 and 1856, however, provide the best comparison, since in both years the crop was a very large one—3,300,000 and 3,500,000 bales. The substantial exports to France are purely fictitious, for a portion goes from Le Havre to Switzerland, Baden, Frankfurt and Antwerp. But it is in this enormous leap forward of industry on the Continent that the most viable embryo of English revolution lies.
While I see the rag Protection for Trade from time to time, I didn't, alas, have a chance to admire amicum[7] Sebastian[8] therein.
The Pieperiad is becoming distinctly distasteful. This little tale has some very amusing aspects, but also some nasty twists, and the thread of vanity running through it creates a disagreeable impression. Only let the fellow out of your sight for the space of 2 minutes and he'll go and do something idiotic on the assumption, shared by no one else, that he's a genius. I hope that he'll have to
marry his tallow candle and that he doesn't get that little sum; it would serve him right.
Should the case arise, we must demonstrate our gratitude for the gallantry shown to your wife by supreme and special command.[9] Whatever happens he[10] must be given his ALLOWANCE of champagne in his cachot.[11]
I found the Lassalliads most entertaining; the ringleted Jewish noddle must look charming indeed above the red nightshirt and the 'marquisian' drapery, while his every movement betrays the Polish Izzy. All things considered, die fellow must produce a most sordid and repulsive impression.
I am keeping Levy's letter here[12] and shall write to you, tomorrow if possible, about sundry matters concerning the workers' business. It would, by the way, be advisable to secure letters containing this sort of stuff with sealing wax. At the same time I shall return you Levy's letter.
I have already told you that I can hear again; three abscesses burst in my ear one after the other, and that did the trick.
Warm regards to your wife and children.
Your
F. E.