| Author(s) | Karl Marx |
|---|---|
| Written | 1 March 1882 |
MARX TO ENGELS
IN LONDON
Algiers, 1 March 1882 Hôtel Pension Victoria, Mustapha Supérieur, Boulevard Bon Accueil
(Letters can now be sent to me direct at the above address)
DEAR FRED,
The telegram[1] I sent you anticipated my POSTCARD/ as the latter would have caused somewhat unnecessary anxiety. The fact is that thanks to an accumulation of unfavourable circumstances of a petty nature (incl. the sea crossing), I have been frozen to the marrow, my corpus delicti[2] having landed at Algiers on 20 February.
December was an atrocious month in Algiers, January fine, February cold when not also damp. I struck the 3 coldest days of the said last month, the 20th, 21st and 22nd of February. No sleep, no appetite, a bad cough, somewhat perplexed, not without an occasional bout of profunda melancolia, like the great Don Quixote. AT ONCE THEN back to Europe, no go, what with the faux frais,[3] on top of which the prospect of another 2 nights in one of the cabines, one's brain tortured by the racket from the engines! Or again, certain escape from the quid pro quo[4] by setting off at once for Biskra, right next to the Sahara Desert? But difficult, considering the fact that the means of communication or transport demand a further journey of 7 to 8 days and, according to the advice of someone familiar with the conditions, no small undertaking for a pro nunc[5] invalid in view of possible INCIDENTS before arrival in Biskra!
Anyway, as the thermometer on the après-midi[6] of 22 February indicated fair weather and I had already spied out the Hôtel-Pension Victoria on the day of my arrival in company with the good JUDGE Fermé, I left the Grand Hôtel d'Orient (also sleeping there THE ABOMINABLE PHILOSOPHICAL RADICAL Ashton Dilke — BY THE BY, to le Petit Colon and other petits journaux Algériens[7] every Englishman is A LORD, EVEN Bradlaugh FIGURES HERE AS LORD Bradlaugh) with bagage to une des collines en dehors de la fortification, du côté de l'Est de la ville.[8]
Magnificent position here, from my chambre[9] the bay of the MEDITERRANEAN, the port of Algiers, villas climbing up the collines as in an amphitheatre (des ravines au dessous des collines, d'autres collines au dessus)[10] ; further away, des montagnes,[11] among those visibles being the snowy crests derrière Matifou, sur les montagnes de Kabilie, des points culminants du Djurdjura.[12] (All the aforementioned collines are of limestone.) At 8 o'clock in the morning there is nothing more magical than the panorama, the air, the vegetation, a wonderful mélange of Europe and Africa. Every morning — at 10 or 9-11 or THEREABOUTS MY PROMENADE between des ravines et les collines situées au dessus de la mienne[13]
WITH ALL THAT one lives on nothing but dust. IN FIRST INSTANCE only FROM 23-26TH FEBR. REALLY EXCELLENT CHANGE; but now (and nevertheless I'm still so frozen that EVEN THEN the only difference between my clothing in the Isle of Wight and my clothing in the city of Algiers is that in the villa I have up till now simply replaced the rhinoceros greatcoat with my light greatcoat, no other change having been made so far) there began (and will doubtless last for some 9 days reckoned from the 27th Feb.) the so-called tempête, c.a.d. le tapage du vent sans de tonnerre et sans d'éclairs[14] DANGEROUS AND TREACHEROUS TIME MUCH FEARED EVEN BY THE NATIVES. SO in fact only 3 really fine days up till now.
Meanwhile, my cough got worse FROM DAY TO DAY, le crachement abominable,[15] little sleep, above all a certain nasty feeling that my left side is once for all deteriorated by the perish, and my intellectual state most dejected. Thus I summoned Dr Stephann (best Algiers doctor). I had two interviews yesterday and to-day. What to do? I am just go[ing] to Algiers to make prepare his prescriptions given; they are, after he had very seriously examined me, 1. collodion cantharidal[16] applied with a pinceau[17] ; 2. arseniate de soude[18] in a specific quantity of water; 1 tablespoon of same at every mealtime; 3. au cas de besoin,[19] especially if the cough comes on at night, a tablespoonful of a MIXTURE of codéine and julep gommeux.[20] He is coming again in a week's time; as to my BODILY EXERCISES, has ordered me to keep within very moderate limits; no real intellectual work except some reading for my distraction. So in fact I shan't be back AT London A BIT (RATHER A LESS) sooner! Hence a man ought never [to] delude himself by too sanguine views!
I must break off as I have to go to the chemist in Algiers. By the by, you know that few people more averse to demonstrative pathos; still, it would be a lie [not] to confess that my thought to great part absorbed by reminiscence of my wife, such a part of my best part of life! Tell my London daughters[21] to write to Old Nick[22] instead of expecting him to write himself first.
How is Pumps going on in that serious work of man-creating? Give her my best compliments.
Give my compliments to Helen,[23] ditto Moore, Schorlemmer. Now, old good fellow,
Yours,
Moor
Apropos! Dr Stephann, like my dear Dr Donkin, does not forget— the cognac