| Author(s) | Jenny Marx Longuet |
|---|---|
| Written | 21 December 1871 |
JENNY MARX (DAUGHTER) TO LUDWIG AND GERTRUD KUGELMANN
IN HANOVER
London, 21-22 December 1871
My dear friends,
First of all let me thank you for your kind letter, my dear Doctor, and ask you to pardon me for hot answering it before this. If you knew how much I have had to do of late you would forgive me. For the last three weeks I have been running from one suburb of London to the other (which is no small undertaking in this immense city), and then I have often written letters until one o'clock in the morning. The object of these journeys and letters is
to obtain funds for the support of the refugees.[1] Hitherto, alas, we have been unsuccessful in our endeavours. The infamous calumnies of the shameless newspapermongers have so much prejudiced the English against the Communeux, that they are generally looked upon with unmitigated horror. Employers will have nothing to do with them. The men who had succeeded in obtaining engagements under borrowed names, are dismissed so soon as it is found out who they are. Poor M. and Mad. Serraillier for instance had obtained engagements as French teachers. A few days ago, however, they were informed that the services of an ex-member of the Commune and of his wife would no longer be required. But
I can speak of these things from
personal experience. The Monros, for instance, have broken off all connection with me, because they have made the terrible discovery that I am the daughter of the pétroleur chief,[2] who defended the iniquitous Communal movement.
As the refugees cannot find employment, you can imagine to what straits they are reduced. Their sufferings are beyond description—they are literally starving in the streets of this great city—the city, that has carried the chacun pour soi[3] principle to its greatest perfection. It is not to be wondered at that Englishmen, who consider starvation cases to be part and parcel of their own glorious constitution, who look upon the liberty to starve as a privilege to be proud of, are not much impressed by the nameless misery of foreigners for whom they have no sympathies whatever. For more than five months the International has now supported, that is to say, has held between life and death the great mass of exiles. But its resources are now exhausted. In this extremity we have had the enclosed private circular printed. I have drawn it up, and you will see carefully avoided any word or allusion that might shock the philistines.
You can imagine, my dear friends, how much all these difficulties and troubles worry poor Mohr. Not only that he has to fight with all the Governments of the ruling classes—into the bargain, he has hand to hand combats with the 'fat, fair and forty' landladies, who attack him, because this or that Communeux hasn't paid his rent. Just as he has lost himself in the [4] abstrakten Gedanken,
in rushes Mrs Smith or Mrs Brown. If only the Figaro knew this—what a feuilleton would be offered to his readers'
What with interruptions of every kind Mohr has had the greatest difficulty to find time to arrange the first chapter of his book[5] for the second edition.[6] By hook and crook he now hopes to be enabled to send it to his publisher[7] before the end of the next week. He has much simplified parts of it. But, I am happy to say that in spite of such an ocean of cares, Papa's health is pretty good, better than it has generally been at this time of the year. Some weeks ago he had an abscess under the arm, but it was not a bad one and was soon cured. His cough also has almost left him—he only coughs in the morning—(formerly
you will remember he sometimes coughed during the whole night).
The successors of the defunct Alliancists10 have not given the General Council one moment's peace. During several months they succeeded in carrying their intrigues into every country. They went to work with such wild energy that for some time things looked bad for the future of the International. Spain, Italy, Belgium apparently sided with the Bakounine abstentionists, and were against the resolution on the necessity of the International taking part in politics.[8] Here in England the clique of abstention- ists intrigued with Bradlaugh, Odger and their followers, they did not even scruple to make use of the mouchards[9] and agents provocateurs of Thiers and Badinguet.[10] Their organs, the Qui Vive! in London, and the Révolution Sociale in Geneva, outdid each other in calumniating ces autoritaires', ces 'dictateurs', ces 'Bismarckiens du Conseil Général Mr Bradlaugh has resorted to the most miserable misrepresentation to calumniate ' le grand chef de ce conseil'.'i2A For weeks he secretly insinuated at private assemblies, at length he has openly proclaimed at a public meeting that Karl Marx was and is, a Bonapartist. His assertions are based upon the passage in the Civil War in which it is shown that the Empire was the only form of government possible—here Bradlaugh stops omitting the concluding words 'at a time when the bourgeoisie had already lost, and the working class had not yet acquired, the faculty of ruling the nation'.
However the success of these intrigants was only apparent, in reality they have everywhere been unsuccessful. All their deep laid plots and maneuvres have availed them nothing.
In Geneva, that hotbed of intrigants, a congress representing thirty sections of the International has declared itself for the General Council, has passed a resolution to the effect that the separatist factions cannot henceforth be considered to form parts of the International, their acts having clearly shown that their object is to disorganise the Association. That these sections, who under another name, are only a fraction of the old Alliance faction, by continuing to sow dissension, are opposed to the interests of the federation.[11] This resolution was voted unani- mously in an assembly of 500 members. The Bakounists who had come all the way from Neufchâtel to be present would have been seriously ill-used, had it not been for the men whom they style des Bismarckiens', 'des autoritaires—Outine, Perret etc. who rescued them and begged the assembly to allow them to speak. (Outine of course was well aware that the best means of killing them altogether was to allow them to make their speeches.)
From Belgium, the news according to De Paepe is equally good. On Sunday, a congress is to be held at Brussels.[12]
The Spanish Federal Council has likewise adopted all the resolutions of the delegates of the Conference, and has exposed the bad faith of the separatist faction.
In America the latter party, represented by Section 12,[13] is powerless. All they can do is to disturb the meetings of the other sections.
The London French branch[14] has ceased to exist—Vermersch (Le Père Duchêne) has acted as its undertaker.
I am afraid I have already taken up far too much of your time—yet I must add a few words in reply to your letter, my dear Doctor.
Papa's opinion is that in the event of a war between Russia and Prussia, Austria will be the scapegoat, and that the wolves will make it up by helping each other to a slice of the lamb.
I was sorry to hear you did not receive the Illustrated paper[15] —firstly, because it is difficult to get hold of copies of it, then I am sorry to think you have been fancying all this time that I forgot to send you the paper. Believe me, my dear 'Trautchen'[16]
und 'Wenzel',[17] you were the very first persons it was sent to. I sent it you even before Laura had a copy. The portrait has likewise appeared in an Italian paper, in The Illustrated London News, and will shortly be published in the Spanish Illustracion. You see it is making [18] le tour du monde.6—Thanks for the German [19] Illustration. I do not much like the portrait. In the attempt to beautify features etc.—the artist has sacrificed everything that was characteristic. A friend of ours says that if he had by chance seen it in a shop-window he would have said [20] Voilà un bel homme qui ressemble à M. Marx'. I will send you another Paris Illustration, so soon as I can get a copy from Paris—here in London the paper is not to be had.
As regards Bergeret's book,[21] I have not sent it. It is not worth while reading. With one exception, all the books on the Commune that have hitherto appeared, are mere trash. That one exception to the general rule, is Lissagaray's work[22] —which you will receive together with this letter.
To return to the vexed question of the erratic letter that traveled all the way to Russia before reaching you, I must remark you are mistaken in supposing that I was realy vexed when I made a joke about German [23] Bildung'.—Far be it from me, a French barbarian, to venture to criticize the cultivated German nation, cette grrrrrrande nationl But, as it seems you are determined to take up an imaginary gauntlet (imaginary it is, I assure you, for I have both of my gloves in my pocket), I must request you not to use unfair arms against me. If you will look at the enclosed address, you will see that I have never written Hanover with an accent over the ô. On the envelope I wrote 'Hannover'—when I write in English I only put one n, which is the correct spelling in English.—But let us shake hands (how I wish we could really do so!)—for it won't do to be quarrelling as the New Year is walking in. For the New Year I wish you all the best health and happiness, and above all, I hope we may see each other in its course. As our family cannot venture to go to the Continent, and as therefore there is no chance of our paying you a visit in Germany, you must by all means come over here to see us—for let me warn you, that unless you make up your minds to come to London during the next spring or summer, you may no longer find us here, as the English government is taking underhand measures to introduce a bill for the expulsion of Communists and Internationals. The prospect of settling down in the land of Yankee Doodle Dandy is not a very pleasing one to us. However, sufficient for the day is the evil thereof[24] !
With renewed wishes from all at home for your happiness, and with a hearty kiss to dear Fränzchen[25] who will be quite a grown-up young lady by the time I see her again (this summer I trust), Believe me, my dear friends,
Ever affectionately yours,
Jenny Marx
December 22... We have just received your letters. I do not know how to thank you for all your kindness. You spoil us too much... The box has not arrived as yet, in unpacking it we shall follow your instructions to the letter.—With regard to your kind invitation, my dear Trautchen, accept my best thanks for it. I am afraid, however, it will be impossible for me to leave home this winter. I am able to make myself of some use here at this moment—besides which, I have already been away from home for four months this year,[26] and that seemed to be an eternity to me. I feel as if I had just only come back from that long banishment. You must promise to come and see us next year, my dear Trautchen!
By the bye I forgot to give you my opinion as to O'Donovan Rossa[27] —I am sorry to say that I believe there is much truth in the reports given of him. He has not answered the letter I wrote him—but has not.again attacked the Communists and that is all I wanted.
The Irish in London are entering the ranks of the International. Irish Sections are being formed in various parts of the East-End... But you will think this tape-worm epistle is never coming to an end and perhaps it wouldn't, if my pen didn't positively refuse to mark. So with love to all
Believe me,
Your sincere friend
Jenny Marx
The box has just arrived. I really do not know which of the presents most to admire. I shall spare the locket for the very first grand occasion and shall at once get a frame for Shakespeare's portrait. It is one of the finest I have ever seen. Mohr is very much pleased with his book-shelves. Tussy and mama are not at home!