| Author(s) | Friedrich Engels |
|---|---|
| Written | 22 July 1890 |
ENGELS TO WILHELM LIEBKNECHT
IN BORSDORF NEAR LEIPZIG
Steam Yacht Ceylon
Bergen Roads, 22 July 1890
Dear Liebknecht,
Having safely returned to civilised latitudes after our trip to North Cape—Schorlemmer and I left London in the above vessel on the 1st of this month—I hasten to inform you that we shall be back in London on Saturday the 26th inst. And look forward to seeing you as soon as may be. Come straight away if that suits you, since we shall probably be setting off for the seaside shortly afterwards and intend to inveigle you into joining us;[1] that will still leave you some time to do what you have to do in London.
The first news to reach us from the outside world is today pinned up in our vessel and reads: The German Social Democracy will reorganize on October 1st and is preparing a plan of organization to be discussed and adopted at a congress in October. Otherwise nothing of any importance—but it's enjoyable to be promptly presented with that news.
As young William[2] was favouring Norway with his presence at the same time,[3] I kept as quiet as possible about my itinerary, lest there should be any police chicanery. On our way home we met the fleet in Molde; young Hopeful, however, was not present, having gone off gallivanting in a torpedo boat; he sneaked past us in the Geiranger Fjord, much to the annoyance of the middle-class English gang on board our ship, who would have liked to give three cheers for a real live emperor.
While the sailors in the fleet were splendid chaps, the junior officers and midshipmen differed little from the ensigns of the Prussian guards, their every turn of phrase being of the kind we've known from time immemorial; the senior officers we met in the hotel dressed in mufti were quite different and were in no way distinguishable from ordinary civilians. The predominant accents were those of old Prussia. We nearly died of laughter at the sight of two fat admirals sitting squashed together in a minute Norwegian cab (there was barely room in it for one) as they went to pay their calls (Primrose Hill would accommodate the whole of Molde twice over); all one could see from behind were apaulettes and tricorns.
It was a very pleasant and very interesting trip and I liked the Norwegians a great deal. Up in Tromsö we visited the Lapps and their reindeer and in Hammerfest saw piles of dried cod—at first I took it to be firewood—and, at North Cape, the famous midnight sun. But there's nothing one gets sick of more quickly than perpetual daylight when for a solid week there's literally no night at all and it's always quite light when one goes to bed.
We sampled the beer conscientiously right up to 71 degrees of latitude; it was good but not so good as the German stuff, and invariably bottled. Only in Trondheim could one actually get draught beer. Here too, by the way, the legislators are much concerned with temperance and it would seem that sales of Bismarck's spirits have been steadily dropping. We shall probably carry out a reconnaissance today to see whether there is a beer hall in Bergen where draught ale may be had.
The train from Gossevangen to Bergen covers 108 kilometres in 4 1/2 hours—24 kilometres per hour! But it passes through rock of all kinds out of which pretty well the whole line had to be blasted.
Up north on the Svartisen, which is one enormous ice field, we walked on a glacier separated from the sea only by the low moraine, i.e. it drops to approximately 100 feet above sea level.
But now it's time for breakfast and I shall close so as to be able to hand this letter in for posting immediately it is over.
Warm regards to your wife and children and to yourself from Schorlemmer and
Your
F. Engels