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diff --git a/20743-h/20743-h.htm b/20743-h/20743-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cdf148d --- /dev/null +++ b/20743-h/20743-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1806 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Marx He Knew, by John Spargo. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .5em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .5em; + text-indent: 1em; + } + H1 { + text-align: center; font-family: garamond, serif; /* all headings centered */ + } + H5,H6 { + text-align: center; font-family: garamond, serif; /* all headings centered */ + } + H2 { + text-align: center; font-family: garamond, serif; /* centered and coloured */ + } + H3 { + text-align: center; font-family: garamond, serif; /* centered and coloured */ + } + H4 { + text-align: center; font-family: garamond, serif; /* all headings centered */ + } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + font-size: 110%; + } + a {text-decoration: none} /* no lines under links */ + div.centered {text-align: center;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 1 */ + div.centered table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 2 */ + + .cen {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em;} /* centering paragraphs */ + .sc {font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 95%;} /* small caps, normal size */ + .noin {text-indent: 0em;} /* no indenting */ + .block {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} /* block indent */ + .right {text-align: right; padding-right: 2em;} /* right aligning paragraphs */ + .totoi {position: absolute; right: 2%; font-size: 75%; text-align: right;} /* to Table of Illustrations link */ + .img {text-align: center; padding: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} /* centering images */ + .tdr {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} /* right align cell */ + .tdc {text-align: center;} /* center align cell */ + .tdl {text-align: left;} /* left align cell */ + .tdlsc {text-align: left; font-variant: small-caps;} /* aligning cell content and small caps */ + .tdrsc {text-align: right; font-variant: small-caps;} /* aligning cell content and small caps */ + .tdcsc {text-align: center; font-variant: small-caps;} /* aligning cell content and small caps */ + .tr {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 1em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} /* transcriber's notes */ + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; right: 2%; + font-size: 75%; + color: silver; + background-color: inherit; + text-align: right; + text-indent: 0em; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal;} /* page numbers */ + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Marx He Knew, by John Spargo + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Marx He Knew + +Author: John Spargo + +Release Date: March 4, 2007 [EBook #20743] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MARX HE KNEW *** + + + + +Produced by Fritz Ohrenschall, Jeannie Howse and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h1>The Marx He Knew</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="img"><a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a> +<a href="images/frontis.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/frontis.jpg" width="68%" alt="KARL MARX." /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em; font-size: 90%;">KARL MARX.<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + + + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + + +<h1>The Marx He Knew</h1> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<h4>BY</h4> +<h3>JOHN SPARGO</h3> +<br /> +<br /> +<h5>Author of "The Bitter Cry of the Children," "Socialism,<br /> +A Summary and Interpretation of Socialist<br /> +Principles," "The Common Sense of<br /> +Socialism," "Karl Marx: His<br /> +Life and Work," Etc.,<br /> +Etc., Etc.</h5> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<h5>CHICAGO<br /> +CHARLES H. KERR & COMPANY<br /> +1909</h5> + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h5>Copyright, 1909<br /> +<br /> +<span class="sc">By Charles H. Kerr & Company</span></h5> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h4>TO<br /> +MADAME LAURA LAFARGUE<br /> +DAUGHTER OF KARL MARX</h4> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="toi" id="toi"></a><hr /> +<br /> + +<h3>List of Illustrations</h3> +<br /> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="90%" summary="List of Illustrations"> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#frontis">Karl Marx, From a Photograph</a></td> + <td class="tdr"><i>Frontispiece</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td width="80%"> </td> + <td class="tdr" width="20%"><span style="font-size: 80%;">FACING PAGE</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#imagep010">His Birthplace at Trier, From an Old Print</a></td> + <td class="tdr">10</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#imagep019">Johanna Bertha Julie von Westphalen,<br /> + From a Painting From Life</a></td> + <td class="tdr">19</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#imagep032">Frederick Engels, From a Photograph</a></td> + <td class="tdr">32</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#imagep047">Ferdinand Lassalle, From a Photograph</a></td> + <td class="tdr">47</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#imagep083">The Marx Family Grave, From a Photograph</a></td> + <td class="tdr">83</td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span><br /> + +<h2>THE MARX HE KNEW</h2> + +<h4>I</h4> +<br /> + +<p>The pale, yellow light of the waning day streamed through the dusty +window panes of the little cigar shop, and across the bench where old +Hans Fritzsche worked and hummed the melody of <i>Der Freiheit</i> the +while.</p> + +<p>The Young Comrade who sat in the corner upon a three-legged stool +seemed not to hear the humming. His eyes were fixed upon a large +photograph of a man which hung in a massive oak frame above the bench +where Old Hans rolled cigars into shape. The photograph was old and +faded, and the written inscription beneath it was scarcely legible. +The gaze of the Young Comrade was wistful and reverent.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>"Tell me about <i>him</i>, Hans," he said at last.</p> + +<p>Old Hans stopped humming and looked at the Young Comrade. Then his +eyes wandered to the portrait and rested upon it in a gaze that was +likewise full of tender reverence.</p> + +<p>Neither spoke again for several seconds and only the monotonous +ticking of the clock upon the wall broke the oppressive silence.</p> + +<p>"Ach! he was a wonderful man, my comrade," said Old Hans at length.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, he was a wonderful man—one of the most wonderful men that +ever lived," responded the Young Comrade in a voice that was vibrant +with religious enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>Both were silent again for a moment and then the Young Comrade +continued: "Yes, Marx was a wonderful man, Hans. And you knew him—saw +him <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>smile—heard him speak—clasped his hand—called him comrade and +friend!"</p> + +<p>"Aye, many times, many times," answered Old Hans, nodding. "Hundreds +of times did we smoke and drink together—me and him."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that was a glorious privilege, Hans," said the Young Comrade +fervently. "To hear him speak and touch his hand—the hand that wrote +such great truths for the poor working people—I would have gladly +died, Hans. Why, even when I touch your hand now, and think that it +held <i>his</i> hand so often, I feel big—strong—inspired."</p> + +<p>"Ach, but my poor old hand is nothing," answered Old Hans with a +deprecating smile. "Touching the hand of such a man matters nothing at +all, for genius is not contagious like the smallpox," he added.</p> + +<p>"But tell me about him, Hans," <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>pleaded the Young Comrade again. "Tell +me how he looked and spoke—tell me everything."</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, we played together as boys in the Old Country, in +Treves. Many a time did we fight then! Once he punched my eye and made +it swell up so that I could hardly see at all, but I punched his nose +and made it bleed like—well, like a pig."</p> + +<p>"What! you made him <i>bleed</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Ach! that was not much; all boys fight so."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"My father was a shoemaker, you see, and we lived not far away from +where Karl's people lived. Many a time my father sent me to their +house—on the Bruckergrasse—with mended shoes. Then I would see Karl, +who was just as big as I was, but not so old by a year. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>Such a fine +boy! Curly-headed he was, and fat—like a little barrel almost.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep010" id="imagep010"></a> +<a href="images/imagep010.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep010.jpg" width="72%" alt="BIRTHPLACE OF KARL MARX." /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em; font-size: 90%;">BIRTHPLACE OF KARL MARX.<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>"So, when I took the shoes sometimes I would stop and play with him a +bit—play with Karl and the girls. He was always playing with +girls—with his sister, Sophie, and little Jenny von Westphalen.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes I liked it not so—playing with girls. They were older than +we boys and wanted everything to go their way, and I liked not that +girls should boss boys. So once I teased him about it—told him that +he was a baby to play with girls. Then it was that we fought and he +gave me a black eye and I gave him a bloody nose in return.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes the Old Man, Karl's father, would come into my father's +shop and stay a long while chatting. He was a lawyer and father only a +shoemaker; he was quite rich, while father <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>was poor, terribly poor. +But it made no difference to Herr Marx. He would chat with father by +the hour.</p> + +<p>"You see, he was born a Jew, but—before Karl was born—he turned +Christian. Father had done the same thing, years before I was born. +Why he did it father would never tell me, but once I heard him and +Heinrich Marx—that was the name of Karl's father—talking about it, +so I got a pretty good idea of the reason.</p> + +<p>"'Of course, I am not a believer in the Christian doctrines, friend +Wilhelm.' he said to my father. 'I don't believe that Jesus was God, +nor that he was a Messiah from God. But I do believe in a God—in one +God and no more.</p> + +<p>"'And I'm not so dishonorable as to have become a Christian, and to +have had my children baptized as Christians, simply to help me in my +profession,' he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>said. 'Some of our Hebrew friends have said that, but +it is not true at all. As I see it, friend Wilhelm, Judaism is too +narrow, too conservative. Christianity makes for breadth, for culture, +for freedom. And it is keeping to ourselves, a people set apart, which +makes us Jews hated and despised, strangers in the land. To become one +with all our fellow citizens, to break down the walls of separation, +is what we need to aim at. That is why I forsook Judaism, Wilhelm.'</p> + +<p>"From the way that father nodded his head and smiled I could tell, +though he said little, that he was the same sort of a Christian."</p> + +<p>"But it was about <i>him</i>, the son, that you were speaking, Hans."</p> + +<p>"Ach, be patient. Time is more plentiful than money, boy," responded +Hans, somewhat testily.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>"Well, of course, we went to the same school, and though Karl was +younger than me we were in the same class. Such a bright, clever +fellow he was! Always through with his lessons before any of the rest +of us, he was, and always at the top of the class. And the stories he +could tell, lad! Never did I hear such stories. In the playground +before school opened we used to get around him and make him tell +stories till our hair stood on end."</p> + +<p>"And was his temper cheerful and good—was he well liked?" asked the +Young Comrade.</p> + +<p>"Liked? He was the favorite of the whole school, teachers and all, my +boy. Never was he bad tempered or mean. Nobody ever knew Karl to do a +bad thing. But he was full of mischief and good-hearted fun. He loved +to play <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>tricks upon other boys, and sometimes upon the teachers, too.</p> + +<p>"He could write the funniest verses about people you ever heard in +your life, and sometimes all the boys and girls in the school would be +shouting his rhymes as they went through the streets. If another boy +did anything to him, Karl would write some verses that made the fellow +look like a fool, and we would all recite them just to see the poor +fellow get mad. Such fun we had then. But, I tell you, we were awfully +afraid of Karl's pin-pricking verses!</p> + +<p>"Once, I remember well, we had a bad-tempered old teacher. He was a +crabbed old fellow, and all the boys got to hate him. Always using the +rod, he was. Karl said to me one day as we were going home from +school: 'The crooked old sinner! I'll make him wince with some verses +before long, Hans,' <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>and then we both laughed till we were sore."</p> + +<p>"And did he write the verses?" asked the Young Comrade.</p> + +<p>"Write them? I should say he did! You didn't know Karl, or you would +never ask such a question as that. Next morning, when we got in +school, Karl handed around a few copies of his poem about old Herr von +Holst, and pretty soon we were all tittering. The whole room was in a +commotion.</p> + +<p>"Of course, the teacher soon found out what was wrong and Karl was +called outside and asked to explain about them. 'I'm a poet, Herr +teacher,' he said, 'and have a poet's license. You must not ask a poet +to explain.' Of course, we all laughed at that, and the poor Herr von +Holst was like a great mad bull."</p> + +<p>"And was he disciplined?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>"To be sure he was! His father was very angry, too. But what did we +care about that? We sang the verses on the streets, and wrote them on +the walls or anywhere else that we could. We made it so hot for the +poor teacher that he had to give up and leave the town. I wish I could +remember the verses, but I never was any good for remembering poetry, +and it was a long, long time ago—more than three score years ago now.</p> + +<p>"We thought it was funny that Karl never gave over playing with the +girls—his sister and Jenny von Westphalen. When we were all big boys +and ashamed to be seen playing with girls, he would play with them +just the same, and sometimes when we asked him to play with us he +would say, 'No, boys, I'm going to play with Jenny and Sophie this +afternoon.' We'd be mad enough at this, for he was a good fellow to +have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>in a game, and sometimes we would try to tease him out of it. +But he could call names better than we could, and then we were all +afraid of his terrible verses. So we let him alone lest he make us +look silly with his poetry.</p> + +<p>"Well, I left school long before Karl did. My father was poor, you +see, and there were nine of us children to feed and clothe, so I had +to go to work. But I always used to be hearing of Karl's cleverness. +People would talk about him in father's shop and say, 'That boy Marx +will be a Minister of State some day.'</p> + +<p>"By and by we heard that he had gone to Bonn, to the University, and +everybody thought that he would soon become a great man. Father was +puzzled when Heinrich Marx came in one day and talked very sadly about +Karl. He said that Karl had wasted all his time at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>Bonn and learned +nothing, only getting into a bad scrape and spending a lot of money. +Father tried to cheer him up, but he was not to be comforted. 'My +Karl—the child in whom all my hopes were centered—the brightest boy +in Treves—is a failure,' he said over and over again.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep019" id="imagep019"></a> +<a href="images/imagep019.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep019.jpg" width="68%" alt="JOHANNA BERTHA JULIE JENNY VON WESTPHALEN." /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em; font-size: 90%;">JOHANNA BERTHA JULIE JENNY VON WESTPHALEN.<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>"Soon after that Karl came home and I saw him nearly every day upon +the streets. He was most always with Jenny von Westphalen, and people +smiled and nodded their heads when the two passed down the street. My! +What a handsome couple they made! Jenny was the beauty of the town, +and all the young men were crazy about her. They wrote poems about her +and called her all the names of the goddesses, but she had no use for +any of the fellows except Karl. And he was as handsome a fellow as +ever laughed into a girl's eyes. He was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>tall and straight as a line, +and had the most wonderful eyes I ever saw in my life. They seemed to +dance whenever he smiled, but sometimes they flashed fire—when he was +vexed, I mean. But I suppose that what the girls liked best was his +great mass of coal black curls.</p> + +<p>"The girls raved about Karl, and he could have had them all at his +feet if he would. I know, for I had two sisters older than myself, and +I heard how they and their friends used to talk about him. But Karl +had no eyes for any girl but Jenny, except it was his sister.</p> + +<p>"Folks all said that Karl and Jenny would marry. Rachel—that's my +oldest sister—said so one night at the supper table, but our good +mother laughed at her. 'No, Rachel, they'll never marry,' she said. +'Jenny might be willing enough, but the old Baron will never let <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>her +do it. Karl's father is rich alongside of poor people like us, but +poor enough compared with Jenny's father. Karl is no match for the +beautiful Jenny.'</p> + +<p>"Then father spoke up. 'You forget, mother, that Heinrich Marx is the +best friend that old Baron von Westphalen has, and that the Baron is +as fond of Karl as of Jenny. And anyway he loves Jenny so much that +he'd be sure to let her marry whoever she loved, even if the man had +not a thaler to his name.'</p> + +<p>"Soon Karl went away again to the University at Berlin, not back to +Bonn. Thought he'd get on better at Berlin, I suppose. He might have +been gone a year or more when his father came into father's little +shop one day while I was there. He said that Karl wasn't doing as well +at Berlin as he had expected. He tried to laugh it off, saying that +the boy was in love and would probably <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>settle down to work soon and +come out all right, upon top as usual.</p> + +<p>"It was then that we learned for the first time that Karl and Jenny +were betrothed, and that the old Baron had given his blessing to his +daughter and her lover. Very soon all the gossips of the town were +talking about it. Some said that there had been quite a romance about +it; that the young folks had been secretly engaged for nearly a year, +being afraid that the Baron would object. 'Twas even said that Karl +had been made ill by the strain of keeping the secret. Then, when at +last Karl wrote to old Westphalen about it, and asked for Jenny in a +manly fashion, the old fellow laughed and said that he had always +hoped it would turn out that way. So the silly young couple had +suffered a lot of pain which they could have avoided.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>"Of course, lots of folks said that it wasn't a 'good match,' that +Jenny von Westphalen could have married somebody a lot richer than +Karl; but they all had to admit that she couldn't get a handsomer or +cleverer man than Karl in all the Rhine Province.</p> + +<p>"But things seemed to be going badly enough with Karl at the +University. Herr Heinrich Marx cried in our little shop one evening +when my father asked him how Karl was doing. He said that, instead of +studying hard to be a Doctor of Laws, as he ought to do, Karl was +wasting his time. 'He writes such foolish letters that I am ashamed of +him,' said the old man. 'Wastes his time writing silly verses and +romances and then destroying most of them; talks about becoming a +second Goethe, and says he will write the great Prussian drama that +will revive dramatic art. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>He spends more money than the sons of the +very rich, and I fear that he has got into bad company and formed evil +habits.'</p> + +<p>"Then father spoke up. 'Don't be afraid,' he said. 'I'll wager that +Karl is all right, and that he will do credit to the old town yet. +Some of our greatest men have failed to pass their examinations in the +universities you know, Herr Marx, while some of the most brilliant +students have done nothing worthy of note after leaving the +universities crowned with laurels. There is nothing bad about Karl, of +that you may be sure.'</p> + +<p>"The old man could hardly speak. He took father's hand and shook it +heartily: 'May it be so, friend Wilhelm, may it be so,' he said. I +never saw the old man again, for soon after that he died.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>"Karl came home that Easter, looking pale and worn and thin. I was +shocked when he came to see me, so grave and sad was he. We went over +to the old Roman ruins, and he talked about his plans. He had given up +all hopes of being a great poet then and wanted to get a Doctor's +degree and become a Professor at the University. I reminded him of the +verses he wrote about some of the boys at school, and about the old +teacher, Herr von Holst, and we laughed like two careless boys. He +stood upon a little mound and recited the verses all over as though +they had been written only the week before. Ach, he looked grand that +night in the beautiful moonlight!</p> + +<p>"Then came his father's death, and I did not see him again, except as +the funeral passed by. He went back to Berlin to the University, and I +went <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>soon after that away from home for my wanderjahre, and for a +long time heard nothing about Karl.</p> + +<br /> +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>"Two or three years after that I was working in Cologne, where I had a +sweetheart, when I read in a paper, the <i>Rhenische Zeitung</i>, that +there would be a democratic meeting. I liked the democratic ideas +which I found in the paper, for they were all in the interest of poor +toilers like myself. So I made up my mind to go to the meeting.</p> + +<p>"So that night I went to the meeting and listened to the speeches. +Presently <i>he</i> came in. I didn't see him at first, but heard a slight +noise back of me and heard someone near me say 'Here comes Doctor +Marx.' Then I turned and saw <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>Karl making his way to the front, all +eyes fastened upon him. I could see in a moment that he was much +beloved.</p> + +<p>"Then Karl made a speech. He was not a great orator, but spoke clearly +and right to the point in very simple language. The speaker who spoke +before him was very eloquent and fiery, and stirred the audience to a +frenzy. But never a sound of applause greeted Karl's speech; he was +listened to in perfect silence.</p> + +<p>"This made me feel that Karl's speech was a great failure, but next +day I found that the only words I remembered of all that were spoken +that evening were the words Karl spoke. It was the same way with the +other men in the shop where I worked. As they discussed the meeting +next day, it was Karl's speech they remembered and discussed. That was +like Karl: he had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>a way somehow of saying things you couldn't forget.</p> + +<p>"When the meeting was over I was slinking away without speaking to +him. I suppose that I was bashful and a bit afraid of the grave +'Doctor Marx,' the great man. But he saw me going out and shouted my +name. 'Wait a minute, Hans Fritzsche,' he cried, and came running to +me with outstretched hands. Then he insisted upon introducing me to +all the leaders. 'This is my good friend, Herr Fritzsche, with whom I +went to school,' he said to them.</p> + +<p>"Nothing would satisfy him but that I should go with the other leaders +and himself for a little wine, and though I was almost afraid lest in +such company I seem foolish, I went. You should have heard Karl talk +to those leaders, my boy! It was wonderful, and I sat and drank in +every word. One of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>great men was urging that the time had come +for some desperate action. 'Nothing but a bloody revolution can help +the working people, Herr Marx,' he said. But Karl smiled quietly, and +I thought I could see the old scornful curl of his lip as he said: +'Revolution? Yes, but not yet, Herr, not yet, and perhaps not a bloody +one at all.' Ach, what quiet power seemed to go with his words!</p> + +<p>"After the little crowd broke up Karl took me with him to his office. +Then I learned that he was the editor of the <i>Rhenische Zeitung</i>, and +that the articles I had read in the paper pleading for the poor and +oppressed and denouncing the government were written by him. I felt +almost afraid of him then, so wonderful it seemed that he should have +become so great and wise. But Karl soon put all my fears to rest, and +made <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>me forget everything except that we were boys from home enjoying +the memories of old times.</p> + +<p>"Well, I saw him often after that, for I joined the Democratic Club. +Then the government suppressed the paper, and Karl went away to Paris. +Before he went he came to say good bye and told me that he was to +marry Jenny von Westphalen before going to Paris, and I told him that +I was going to marry, too.</p> + +<p>"But we never thought that we should meet each other upon our +honeymoons, as we did. I was at Bingen with my Barbara the day after +our wedding when I heard someone calling my name, and when I turned to +see who it was that called me there stood Karl and his Jenny laughing +at me and my Barbara, and all of us were blushing like idiots. Such +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>happy days those were that we spent at old Bingen!</p> + +<p>"I went back to Cologne, to work in the shop belonging to my Barbara's +father, and Karl went to Paris. That was in forty-three. We heard from +him sometimes, and later on we used to get copies of a paper, +<i>Vorwarts</i>, which published articles by Karl and other great men. +Bakunin wrote for it, I remember, and so did Heine and Herwegh, our +sweet singers.</p> + +<p>"That paper was stopped, too. We heard that Guizot had suppressed the +paper and ordered Karl and some of the other writers to be expelled +from France. It was Alexander von Humboldt who persuaded Guizot, so it +was said. I got a letter from Karl to say that he had settled in +Brussels with his wife and that there was a baby, a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>little Jenny, +eight months old. Our little Barbara was just the same age.</p> + +<p>"Not long after that letters came to the club asking for Karl's +address. They were from Engels, of whom I had never heard before. I +would not give the address until we found out that Engels was a true +friend and comrade. We were all afraid, you see, lest some enemy +wanted to hurt Karl. It was good, though, that I could send the +address to Engels, for I believe that he sent some money to help Karl +out of a very hard struggle. If we had known that he was in trouble +we, his friends in Cologne, would have sent money to help, but Karl +was too proud I suppose to let his trouble be known to us.</p> + +<br /> +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>"It was in the winter of 1847 that I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>saw him again, in London. For +months all the workingmen's societies had been agitated over the +question of forming an international association with a regular +programme, which Karl had been invited to draw up. A congress was to +be held in London for the purpose of considering Karl's programme and +I was sent by the Cologne comrades as a delegate. All the members +'chipped in' to pay my expenses, and I was very happy to go—happy +because I should see him again.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep032" id="imagep032"></a> +<a href="images/imagep032.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep032.jpg" width="58%" alt="FREDERICK ENGELS." /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em; font-size: 90%;">FREDERICK ENGELS.<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>"So I was present at the rooms of the Arbeiterbildungsverein, in Great +Windmill Street, when Karl read the declaration of principles and +programme he had prepared. That was the <i>Communist Manifesto</i>, you +know."</p> + +<p>"What! were you really present when that immortal declaration of the +independence of our class was read, Hans?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>"Aye, lad, I was present during all the ten days the congress lasted. +Never, never shall I forget how our Karl read that declaration. Like a +man inspired he was. I, who have heard Bernstein and Niemann and many +another great actor declaim the lines of famous classics, never heard +such wonderful declamation as his. We all sat spellbound and still as +death while he read. Tears of joy trickled down my cheeks, and not +mine alone. When he finished reading there was the wildest cheering. I +lost control of myself and kissed him on both cheeks, again and again. +He liked not that, for he was always ashamed to have a fuss made over +him.</p> + +<p>"But Karl—he always insisted that I should call him 'Karl,' as in +boyhood days—had shown us that day his inner self; bared the secret +of his heart, you might say. The workers of all countries <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>must +unite—only just that, unite! And that night, after the long session +of the congress, when he took me away with Engels and a few other +friends—I remember that Karl Pfander was one—he could speak of +little else: the workers must be united somehow, and whoever proposed +further divisions instead of unity must be treated as a traitor.</p> + +<p>"Some there were who had not his patience. Few men have, my lad, for +his was the patience of a god. They wanted 'action,' 'action,' +'action,' and some of them pretended that Karl was just a plain +coward, afraid of action. There was one little delegate, a Frenchman, +who tried to get me to vote against the 'coward Marx'—me that had +known Karl since we were little shavers together, and that knew him to +be fearless and lion-hearted. I just picked the creature up and shook +him like a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>terrier shakes a rat and he squealed bitterly. I don't +think he called Karl a coward again during the congress.</p> + +<p>"Of course, Karl had courage enough for anything. But he was too wise +to imagine that any good could come from a few thousand untrained +workingmen, armed with all sorts of implements, dangerous most to +themselves, challenging the trained hosts of capitalist troops. That +was the old idea of 'Revolution,' you know, and it took more courage +to advocate the long road of patience than it would take to join in a +silly riot. And Karl showed them that, too, by his calm look and +scornful treatment of their cry for 'action.' The way he silenced the +noisy followers of Wilhelm Weitling—who was not a bad fellow, +mind—was simply wonderful to see. Oh, he was a born leader of men, +was Karl.</p> + +<p>"When the congress was all over, I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>meant to stay a few days in London +to see the great city. Barbara had a sister living over in Dean street +and so it would cost me nothing to stay. But Karl came to me and +begged me to go back by way of Brussels. He and Engels were returning +there at once, and would like to have me go with them. I didn't want +to go at first, but when Karl said that there were some messages he +wanted me to take back to Cologne, why, of course, I went.</p> + +<p>"Ach, what a glorious time we had on that journey to Brussels! +Sometimes Karl and Engels would talk seriously about the great cause, +and I just listened and kept my mouth shut while my ears were wide +open. At other times they would throw off their seriousness as a man +throws off a coat, and then they would tell stories and sing songs, +and of course I joined in. People <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>say—people that never knew the +real Karl—that he was gloomy and sad, that he couldn't smile. I +suppose that is because they never saw the simple Karl that I knew and +loved, but only Marx, the great leader and teacher, with a thousand +heavy problems burdening his mind. But the Marx that I knew—my friend +Karl—was human, boy, very human. He could sing a song, tell a good +story, and enjoy a joke, even at his own expense."</p> + +<p>A smile lit up the face of the Young Comrade. "I'm so glad of that, +Hans," he said. "I've always been told that he was a sad man, without +a sense of humor; that he was never known to unbend from his stiff +gravity. But you say that he was not so; that he could laugh and joke +and sing: I like him better so."</p> + +<p>Old Hans seemed not to hear the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>words of the Young Comrade, though he +was silent while they were spoken. A faint smile played around his +lips, and the far-away expression of his eyes told that the smile +belonged to the memory of other days. It was dark now in the little +shop; only the flickering light of the fitful fire in the tiny grate +enabled the Young Comrade to see his friend.</p> + +<p>It was the Young Comrade who broke the silence at last: "Tell me more, +Hans, for I am still hungry to learn about him."</p> + +<p>The old man nodded and turned to put some chips upon the fire in the +grate. Then he continued:</p> + +<p>"It was about the last of February, 1848, that we got the first copies +of the <i>Communist Manifesto</i> at Cologne. Only a day or two before that +we had news of the outbreak of the Revolution in Paris. I have still +my copy of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span><i>Manifesto</i> which Karl sent me from Paris.</p> + +<p>"You see, he had been expelled from Brussels by order of the +Government. Prussia had requested this, so Karl wrote me, and he was +arrested and ordered to leave Belgium at once. So he went at once to +Paris. Only a week before that the Provisional Government had sent him +an official invitation to come back to the city from which Guizot had +expelled him. It was like a conqueror that he went, you may imagine.</p> + +<p>"Boy, you can never understand what we felt in those days. Things are +not so any more. We all thought that the day of our victory was surely +nigh. Karl had made us believe that when things started in France the +proletariat of all Europe would awaken: 'When the Gallican cock crows +the German workers will rise,' he used to say. And now the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>cock's +crowing had been heard! The Revolution was successful in France—so we +thought—and the people were planting trees of liberty along the +boulevards.</p> + +<p>"Here in England, too, the Spirit of the Revolution was abroad with +her flaming torch. The Chartists had come together, and every day we +expected to hear that the monarchy had been overthrown and a Social +Republic established. Of course, we knew that Chartism was a 'bread +and butter question' at the bottom, and that the Chartists' cause was +ours.</p> + +<p>"Well, now that we had heard the Gallican cock, we wanted to get +things started in Germany, too. Every night we held meetings at the +club in Cologne to discuss the situation. Some of us wanted to begin +war at once. You see, the Revolution was in our blood like <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>strong +wine: we were drunk with the spirit, lad.</p> + +<p>"When Karl wrote that we must wait, that we must have patience, there +was great disappointment. We thought that we should begin at once, and +there were some who said that Karl was afraid, but I knew that they +were wrong, and told them so. There was a fierce discussion at the +meeting one night over a letter which I had received from Karl, and +which he wanted me to read to the members.</p> + +<p>"George Herwegh was in Paris, so the letter said, and was trying hard +to raise a legion of German workingmen to march into the Fatherland +and begin the fight. This, Karl said, was a terrible mistake. It was +useless, to begin with, for what could such a legion of tailors and +cigarmakers and weavers do against the Prussian army? It was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>plain +that the legion would be annihilated. Besides, it would hurt the cause +in another way by taking out of Paris thousands of good revolutionists +who were needed there.</p> + +<p>"'Tell the comrades,' he wrote, 'that it is not a question of +cowardice or fear, but of wisdom. It takes more courage to live for +the long struggle than to go out and be shot.' He wanted the comrades +to wait patiently and to do all they could to persuade their friends +in Paris not to follow Herwegh's advice. Most of the Germans in Paris +followed Karl's advice, but a few followed Herwegh and marched into +Baden later on, to be scattered by the regular troops as chaff is +scattered by the wind.</p> + +<p>"The German comrades in Paris sent us a special manifesto, which Karl +wrote, and we were asked to distribute it among the working people. +That <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>would be a good way to educate the workers, Karl wrote to our +committee, but I tell you it seemed a very small thing to do in those +trying times, and it didn't satisfy the comrades who were demanding +more radical revolutionary action. Why, even I seemed to forget Karl's +advice for a little while.</p> + +<p>"On the 13th of March—you'll remember that was the day on which more +than a hundred thousand Chartists gathered on Kennington Common—the +revolution broke out in Vienna. Then things began to move in Cologne, +too. As soon as the news came from Vienna, August von Willich, who had +been an artillery officer, led a big mob right into the Cologne +Council Chamber. I was in the mob and shouted as loud as anybody. We +demanded that the authorities should send a petition to the King, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>in +the name of the city, demanding freedom and constitutional government.</p> + +<p>"And then on the 18th, the same day that saw the people of Berlin +fighting behind barricades in the streets—a great multitude of us +Cologne men marched through the streets, led by Professor Gottfried +Kinkel, singing the <i>Marseillaise</i> and carrying the forbidden flag of +revolution, the black, red and gold tricolor."</p> + +<p>"And where was he—Marx—during all this time?" asked the Young +Comrade.</p> + +<p>"In Paris with Engels. We thought it strange that he should be holding +aloof from the great struggle, and even I began to lose faith in him. +He had told us that the crowing of the Gallican cock would be the sign +for the revolution to begin, yet he was silent. It was not till later +that I learned from his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>own lips that he saw from the start that the +revolution would be crushed; that the workers opportunity would not +come until later.</p> + +<br /> +<h4>IV</h4> + +<p>"He told me that when he came to Cologne with Engels. That was either +the last of April or the beginning of May, I forget which. My wife +rushed in one evening and said that she had seen Karl going up the +street. I had heard that he was expected, but thought it would not be +for several days. So when Barbara said that she had seen him on the +street, I put on my things in a big hurry and rushed off to the club. +There was a meeting that night, and I felt pretty sure that Karl would +get there.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep047" id="imagep047"></a> +<a href="images/imagep047.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep047.jpg" width="57%" alt="FERDINAND LASSALLE." /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em; font-size: 90%;">FERDINAND LASSALLE.<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>"When the meeting was more than half through, I heard a noise in the +back of the hall and turned to see Karl and Engels making their way to +the platform. There was another man with them, a young fellow, very +slender and about five feet six in height, handsome as Apollo and +dressed like a regular dandy. I had never seen this young man before, +but from what I had heard and read I knew that it must be Ferdinand +Lassalle.</p> + +<p>"They both spoke at the meeting. Lassalle's speech was full of fire +and poetry, but Karl spoke very quietly and slowly. Lassalle was like +a great actor declaiming, Karl was like a teacher explaining the rules +of arithmetic to a lot of schoolboys."</p> + +<p>"And did you meet Lassalle, too?" asked the Young Comrade in awed +tones.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>"Aye, that night and many times after that. Karl greeted me warmly and +introduced me to Lassalle. Then we went out for a drink of lager +beer—just us four—Karl, Lassalle, Engels and me. They told me that +they had come to start another paper in the place of the one that had +been suppressed five years before. Money had been promised to start +it, Karl was to be the chief editor and Engels his assistant. The new +paper was to be called the <i>Neue Rhenische Zeitung</i> and Freiligrath, +George Weerth, Lassalle, and many others, were to write for it. So we +drank a toast to the health and prosperity of the new paper.</p> + +<p>"Well, the paper came out all right, and it was not long before Karl's +attacks upon the government brought trouble upon it. The middle class +stockholders felt that he was too radical, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>when he took the part +of the French workers, after the terrible defeat of June, they wanted +to get rid of their chief editor. There was no taming a man like Karl.</p> + +<p>"One day I went down to the office with a notice for a committee of +which I was a member, and Karl introduced me to Michael Bakunin, the +great Russian Anarchist leader. Karl never got along very well with +Bakunin and there was generally war going on between them.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever hear of Robert Blum, my lad? Ever read the wonderful +verses Freiligrath wrote about him? I suppose not. Well, Blum was a +moderate Democrat, a sort of Liberal who belonged to the Frankfort +National Assembly. When the insurrection of October, 1848, broke out +in Vienna Blum was sent there by the National <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>Assembly, the so-called +'parliament of the people.'</p> + +<p>"He assumed command of the revolutionary forces and was captured and +taken prisoner by the Austrian army and ordered to be shot. I remember +well the night of the ninth of February when the atrocious deed was +committed. We had a great public meeting. The hall was crowded to +suffocation. I looked for Karl, but he was nowhere to be seen. He was +a very busy man, you see, and had to write a great deal for his paper +at night.</p> + +<p>"It was getting on for ten o'clock when Karl appeared in the hall and +made his way in silence to the platform. Some of the comrades +applauded him, but he raised his hand to silence them. We saw then +that he held a telegram in his hand, and that his face was as pale as +death itself. We knew that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>something terrible had happened, and a +great hush fell over the meeting. Not a sound could be heard until +Karl began to read.</p> + +<p>"The telegram was very brief and very terrible. Robert Blum had been +shot to death in Vienna, according to martial law, it said. Karl read +it with solemn voice, and I thought that I could see the murder taking +place right there in the hall before my eyes. I suppose everybody felt +just like that, for there was perfect silence—the kind of silence +that is painful—for a few seconds. Then we all broke out in a perfect +roar of fury and cheers for the Revolution.</p> + +<p>"I tried to speak to Karl after the meeting, but he brushed me aside +and hurried away. His face was terrible to behold. He was the +Revolution itself in human shape. As I looked at him I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>knew that he +would live to avenge poor Blum.</p> + +<p>"Blum's death was followed by the <i>coup de' etat</i>. The King appointed +a new ministry and the National Assembly was dissolved. The <i>Neue +Rhenische Zeitung</i> came out then with a notice calling upon all +citizens to forcibly resist all attempts to collect taxes from them. +That meant war, of course, war to the knife, and we all knew it.</p> + +<p>"Karl was arrested upon a charge of treason, inciting people to armed +resistance to the King's authority. We all feared that it would go +badly with him. There was another trial, too, Karl and Engels and a +comrade named Korff, manager of the paper, were placed on trial for +criminal libel. I went to this trial and heard Karl make the speech +for the defence. The galleries were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>crowded and when he got through +they applauded till the rafters shook. 'If Marx can make a speech like +that at the 'treason' trial, no jury will convict,' was what everybody +in the galleries said.</p> + +<p>"When we got outside—oh, I forgot to say that the three defendants +were acquitted, didn't I? Well, when we got outside, I told Karl what +all the comrades, and many who were not comrades at all, were saying +about his defence. He was pleased to hear it, I believe, but all that +he would say was, 'I shall do much better than that, Hans, much better +than that. Unless I'm mistaken, I can make the public prosecutor look +like an idiot, Hans.'</p> + +<p>"You can bet that I was at the 'treason' trial two days later. I +pressed Karl's hand as he went in, and he looked back and winked at me +as mischievously as possible, but said not a word. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>lawyers for +the government bitterly attacked Karl and the two other members of the +executive of the Democratic Club who were arrested with him. But their +abuse was mostly for Karl. He was the one they were trying to strike +down, any fool could see that.</p> + +<p>"Well, when the case for the prosecution was all in, Karl began to +talk to the jury. He didn't make a speech exactly, but just talked as +he always did when he sat with a few friends over a glass of lager. In +a chatty sort of way, he explained the law to the jury, showed where +the clever lawyers for the government had made big mistakes, and +proved that he knew the law better than they did. After that he gave +them a little political lecture, you might say. He explained to them +just how he looked at the political questions—always from the +standpoint of the working people.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>"Sitting beside me was an old man, a Professor of Law they told me he +was. He sat there with his eyes fastened upon Karl, listening with all +his ears to every word. 'Splendid! Splendid! Wonderful logic,' I heard +him say to himself. 'What a lawyer that man would make!' I watched the +faces of the jury and it was plain to see that Karl was making a deep +impression upon them, though they were all middle class men. Even the +old judge forgot himself and nodded and smiled when Karl's logic made +the prosecution look foolish. You could see that the old judge was +admiring the wonderful mind of the man before him.</p> + +<p>"Well, the three prisoners were acquitted by the jury and Karl was +greatly pleased when the jury sent one of their members over to say +that they had passed a vote of thanks to 'Doctor Marx' <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>for the very +interesting and instructive lecture he had given them. I tell you, +boy, I was prouder than ever of Karl after that, and went straight +home and wrote letters to half a dozen people in Treves that I knew, +telling them all about Karl's great speech. You see, I knew that he +would never send word back there, and I wanted everybody in the old +town to know that Karl was making a great name in the world.</p> + +<p>"The government got to be terribly afraid of Karl after that trial, +and when revolutionary outbreaks occurred all through the Rhine +Province, the following May, they suppressed the paper and expelled +Karl from Prussia.</p> + +<p>"We had a meeting of the executive committee to consider what was to +be done. Karl said that he was going to Paris at once, and that his +wife and children would follow next day. Engels <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>was going into the +Palatinate of Bavaria to fight in the ranks, with Annecke, Kinkel, and +Carl Schurz. All the debts in connection with the paper had been paid, +he told us, so that no dishonor could attach to its memory.</p> + +<p>"It was not until afterward that we heard how the debts of the paper +had been paid. Karl had pawned all the silver things belonging to his +wife, and sold lots of furniture and things to get the money to pay +the debts. They were not his debts at all, and if they were his +expulsion would have been a very good reason for leaving the debts +unpaid. But he was not one of that kind. Honest as the sun, he was. It +was just like him to make the debts his own, and to pinch himself and +his family to pay them. More than once Karl and his family had to live +on dry bread in Cologne in order to keep the paper <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>going. My Barbara +found out once in some way that Karl's wife and baby didn't have +enough to eat, and when she came home and told me we both cried +ourselves to sleep because of it."</p> + +<p>"Could none of the comrades help them, Hans?"</p> + +<p>"Ach, that was pretty hard, my boy, for Karl was very proud, and I +guess Jenny was prouder still. Barbara and I put our heads together +and says she: 'We must put some money in a letter and send it to him +somehow, in a way that he will never know where it came from, Hans.' +Karl knew my writing, but not Barbara's, so she wrote a little letter +and put in all the money she had saved up. 'This is from a loyal +comrade who knows that Doctor Marx and his family are in need of it,' +she wrote. Then we got a young comrade who was unknown to Karl and +Engels <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>to deliver the letter to Karl just as he was leaving for his +office one morning.</p> + +<p>"Barbara and I were very happy that day when we knew that Karl had +received the money, but bless your life I don't believe it did him any +good at all. He just gave it away."</p> + +<p>"Gave away the money—that was giving away his children's +bread—almost. Did he do <i>that</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Well, all I know is that I heard next day that Karl had visited that +same evening, a comrade who was sick and poor and in deep distress, +and that when he was leaving he had pressed money into the hand of the +comrade's wife, telling her to get some good food and wine for her +sick husband. And the amount of the money he gave her was exactly the +same as that we had sent to him in the morning.</p> + +<p>"Karl was always so. He was the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>gentlest, kindest-hearted man I ever +knew in my life. He could suffer in silence himself, never +complaining, but he could not stand the sight of another's misery. +He'd stop anything he was doing and go out into the street to comfort +a crying child. Many and many a time have I seen him stop on the +street to watch the children at play, or to pick up some crying little +one in his great strong arms and comfort it against his breast. Never +could he keep pennies in his pocket; they all went to comfort the +children he met on the streets. Why, when he went to his office in the +mornings he would very often have from two to half a dozen children +clinging around him, strange children who had taken a fancy to him +because he smiled kindly at them and patted their heads.</p> + +<p>"I heard nothing from Karl for quite a while after he went to Paris. +We <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>wondered, Barbara and I, why he did not write. Then, one day, +about three months after he had gone to Paris, came a letter from +London and we saw at once that it was in his handwriting. He'd been +expelled from Paris again and compelled to leave the city within +twenty-four hours, and he and his family were staying in cheap +lodgings in Camberwell. He said that everything was going splendidly, +but never a word did he say about the terrible poverty and hardship +from which they were suffering.</p> + +<br /> +<h4>V</h4> + +<p>"Well, a few months after that, I managed to get into trouble with the +authorities at Cologne, along with a few other comrades. We heard that +we were to be arrested and knew that we could <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>expect no mercy. So +Barbara and I talked things over and we decided to clear out at once, +and go to London. We sold our few things to a good comrade, and with +the money made our way at once to join Barbara's sister in Dean +street. I never dreamed that we should find Karl living next door to +us.</p> + +<p>"But we did. Nobody told me about him—I suppose that nobody in our +house knew who he was—but a few days after we arrived I saw him pass +and ran out and called to him. My, he looked so thin and worn out that +my heart ached! But he was glad to see me and grasped my hand with +both of his. Karl could shake hands in a way that made you feel he +loved you more than anybody else in all the world.</p> + +<p>"In a little while he had told me enough for me to understand why he +was so pale and thin. If it were not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>for hurting his feelings, I +could have cried at the things he told me. He and the beautiful Jenny +without food sometimes, and no bed to lie upon! And it seemed all the +worse to me because I knew how well they had been reared, how they had +been used to solid comfort and even luxury.</p> + +<p>"But it was not from Karl that I learned the worst. He was always +trying to hide the worst. Never did I hear of such a man as he was for +turning things bright side upwards. But Conrad Schramm, who was +related to Barbara—a sort of second cousin, I think—lodged in the +same house with us. Schramm was the closest friend Karl and Jenny had +in London then, and he told me things that made my heart bleed. Why, +when a little baby was born to them, soon after they came to London, +there was no money for a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>doctor, nor even to buy a cheap cradle for +the little thing.</p> + +<p>"For years that poverty continued. I used to see Karl pretty near +every day until I fell and hurt my head and broke my leg in two places +and was kept in the hospital many months. Barbara had to go out to +work then, washing clothes for richer folks, and we couldn't offer to +help dear old Karl as we would. So we just pretended that we didn't +know anything about the poverty that was making him look so haggard +and old. Karl would have died from the worry, I believe, if it had not +been for the children. They kept him young and cheered him up. He +might not have had anything but dry bread to eat for days, but he +would come down the street laughing like a great big boy, a crowd of +children tugging at his coat and crying 'Daddy Marx! Daddy Marx! +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>Daddy Marx!' at the top of their little voices.</p> + +<p>"He used to come and see me at the hospital sometimes. No matter how +tired and worried he might be—and I could tell that pretty well by +looking at his face when he didn't know that I was looking—he always +was cheerful with me. He wanted to cheer me up, you see, so he told me +all the encouraging news about the movement—though there wasn't very +much that was encouraging—and then he would crack jokes and tell +stories that made me laugh so loud that all the other patients in the +room would get to laughing too.</p> + +<p>"I told him one day about a little German lad in a bed at the lower +end of the ward. Poor little chap, he had been operated on several +times, but there was no hope. He was bound to die, the nurse told me. +When I told Karl the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>tears came into his eyes and he kept on moaning, +'Poor little chap! So young! Poor little chap!' He went down and +talked with him for an hour or more, and I could hear the boy's +laughter ring through the long hospital ward. We'd never heard him +laugh before, for no one ever came to see him, poor lonesome little +fellow.</p> + +<p>"Karl always used to spend some of his time with the little chap after +that. He would bring books and read to him in his mother tongue, or +tell him wonderful stories. The poor little chap was so happy to see +him and always used to kiss 'Uncle Nick,' as Karl taught the boy to +call him. And when the little fellow died, Karl wept just as though +the lad had been his own kin, and insisted upon following him to the +grave."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that was great and noble, Hans! <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>How he must have felt the great +universal heart-ache!"</p> + +<p>"I used to go to the German Communist Club to hear Karl lecture. That +was years later, in the winter of 1856, I think. Karl had been staying +away from the club for three or four years. He was sick of their +faction fights, and disgusted with the hot-heads who were always +crying for violent revolution. I saw him very often during the time +that he kept away from the club, when Kinkel and Willich and other +romantic middle-class men held sway there. Karl would say to me: 'Bah! +It's all froth, Hans, every bit of it is froth. They cry out for +revolution because the words seem big and impressive, but they mustn't +be regarded seriously. Pop-gun revolutionists they are!'</p> + +<p>"Well, as I was saying, I heard the lectures on political economy +which Karl <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>gave at the club along in fifty-six and fifty-seven. He +lectured to us just as he talked to the juries, quietly and +slowly—like a teacher. Then he would ask us questions to find out how +much we knew, and the man who showed that he had not been listening +carefully got a scolding. Karl would look right at him and say: 'And +did you <i>really</i> listen to the lecture, Comrade So-and-So?' A fine +teacher he was.</p> + +<p>"I think that Karl's affairs improved a bit just them. Engels used to +help him, too. At any rate, he and his family moved out into the +suburbs and I did not see him so often. My family had grown large by +that time, and I had to drop agitation for a few years to feed and +clothe my little ones. But I used to visit Karl sometimes on Sundays, +and then we'd talk over all that had happened in connection with the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>movement. I used to take him the best cigars I could get, and he +always relished them.</p> + +<p>"For Karl was a great smoker. Nearly always he had a cigar in his +mouth, and, ugh!—what nasty things he had to smoke. We used to call +his cigars 'Marx's rope-ends,' and they were as bad as their name. +That the terrible things he had to smoke, because they were cheap, +injured his health there can be no doubt at all. I used to say that it +was helping the movement to take him a box of decent cigars, for it +was surely saving him from smoking old rope-ends.'</p> + +<p>"Poor Jenny! She was so grateful whenever I brought Karl a box of +cigars. 'So long as he must smoke, friend Fritzsche, it is better that +he should have something decent to smoke. The cheap trash he smokes is +bad for him, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>I'm sure.' She knew, poor thing, that the poverty he +endured for the great Cause was killing Karl by inches, as you might +say. And I knew it, too, laddie, and it made my heart bleed."</p> + +<p>"Ah, he was a martyr, Hans—a martyr to the cause of liberty. And 'the +blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church,' always and +everywhere," said the Young Comrade.</p> + +<br /> +<h4>VI</h4> + +<p>Old Hans was silent for a few seconds. He gazed at the photograph +above his bench like one enraptured. The Young Comrade kept silent, +too, watching old Hans. A curious smile played about the old man's +face. It was he who broke the silence at length.</p> + +<p>"Of course, you've heard about the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>International, lad? Karl had that +picture taken just about the time that the International was started. +Always promised me a picture he had, for years and years. And when he +brought me that one Sunday he seemed half ashamed of himself, as if he +thought it was too sentimental a thing for a serious man to do. +'You'll soon get tired looking at it, Hans,' he said.</p> + +<p>"Ach, I remember that afternoon as though it were only day before +yesterday. We were sitting smoking and talking after dinner when Karl +said: 'Hans, I've made up my mind that it is time things begun to move +a bit—in connection with the movement I mean. We must unite, Hans. +All the workers ought to unite—can unite—<i>must</i> unite! We've got a +good start in the visit of these French and German workingmen to the +Universal Exhibition. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>bourgeoisie have shown the way. It must be +done.' Then he explained to me how the movement was to be launched, +and I promised to help as much as possible in my union. Karl always +wanted to get the support of the unions, and many a time did he come +to me to get me to introduce some motion in my union.</p> + +<p>"It was that way when the great Civil War broke out in America. Karl +was mad at the way in which Gladstone and the middle class in general +sided with the slave-holders of the South. You see, he not only took +the side of the slaves, but he loved President Lincoln. He seemed +never to get tired of praising Lincoln. One day he came to me and said +with that quiet manner he had when he was most in earnest, 'Hans, we +must do something to offset Gladstone's damned infernal support of +the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>slave-traders. We must show President Lincoln that the working +class in this country feel and know that he is in the right. And +Abraham Lincoln belongs to us, Hans; he's a son of the working class.'</p> + +<p>"He said a lot more in praise of Lincoln, and told me how proud he was +that the German Socialists had gone to the war, all enlisted in the +Northern army; said he'd like to join with Weydemeyer, his old friend, +who was fighting under Fremont. So earnest he was about it! Nobody +could have guessed that the war meant ruin to him by cutting off his +only regular income, the five dollars a week he got for writing for +the <i>New York Tribune</i>—I think that was the name of the paper.</p> + +<p>"Well, he begged me to get resolutions passed at our union condemning +Gladstone and supporting President Lincoln, and I believe that our +union <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>was the first body of workingmen in England to pass such +resolutions. But Karl didn't stop at that. He got the International to +take the matter up with the different workingmen's societies, and +meetings were held all over the country. And he kept so much in the +background that very few people ever knew that it was Karl Marx who +turned the tide of opinion in England to the side of Lincoln. And when +Lincoln was murdered by that crazy actor, Booth, Karl actually cried. +He made a beautiful speech, and wrote resolutions which were adopted +at meetings all over the country. Ah, boy, Lincoln appreciated the +support we gave him in those awful days of the war, and Karl showed me +the reply Lincoln sent to the General Council thanking them for it.</p> + +<p>"Karl was always like that; always guiding the working people to do +the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>right thing, and always letting other people get the credit and +the glory. He planned and directed all the meetings of the workers +demanding manhood suffrage, in 1866, but he never got the credit of +it. All for the cause, he was, and never cared for personal glory. For +years he gave all his time to the International and never got a penny +for all he did, though his enemies used to say that he was 'getting +rich out of the movement.'</p> + +<p>"Ach, that used to make me mad—the way they lied about Karl. The +papers used to print stories about the 'Brimstone League,' a sort of +'inner circle' connected with the International, though we all knew +there was never such a thing in existence. Karl was accused of trying +to plan murders and bloody revolutions, the very thing he hated and +feared above everything else. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>Always fighting those who talked that +way, he was; said they were spies and hired agents of the enemy, +trying to bring the movement to ruin. Didn't he oppose Weitling and +Herwegh and Bakunin on that very ground?</p> + +<p>"I was with Karl when Lassalle visited him, in 1862, and heard what he +said then about foolish attempts to start revolutions by the sword. +Lassalle had sent a Captain Schweigert to Karl a little while before +that with a letter, begging Karl to help the Captain raise the money +to buy a lot of guns for an insurrection. Karl had refused to have +anything to do with the scheme, and Lassalle was mad about it. 'Your +ways are too slow for me, my dear Marx,' he said. 'Why, it'll take a +whole generation to develop a political party of the proletariat +strong enough to do anything.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>"Karl smiled in that quiet way he had and said: 'Yes, it's slow +enough, friend Lassalle, slow enough. But we want brains for the +foundation of our revolution—brains, not powder. We must have +patience, lots of patience. Mushrooms grow up in a night and last only +a day; oaks take a hundred years to grow, but the wood lasts a +thousand years. And it's oaks we want, not mushrooms.'"</p> + +<p>"How like Marx that was, Hans," said the Young Comrade then, "how +patient and far-seeing! And what did Lassalle think of that?"</p> + +<p>"He never understood Karl, I think. Anyhow, Karl told me that Lassalle +ceased to be his friend after that meeting. There was no quarrel, you +understand, only Lassalle realized that he and Karl were far apart in +their views. 'Lassalle is a clever man all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>right,' Karl used to say, +'but he wants twelve o'clock at eleven, like an impatient child.' And +there's lots of folks like Lassalle in that respect, my lad; folks +that want oaks to grow in a night like mushrooms.</p> + +<p>"Well, I stayed in the International until the very last, after the +Hague Congress when it was decided to make New York the headquarters. +That was a hard blow to me, lad. It looked to me as if Karl had made a +mistake. I felt that the International was practically killed when the +General Council was moved to America, and told Karl so. But he knew +that as well as I did, only he couldn't help himself.</p> + +<p>"'Yes, Hans, I'm afraid you're right. The International can't amount +to much under the circumstances. But it had to be, Hans, it had to be. +My health is very poor, and I'm about done <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>for, so far as fighting is +concerned. I simply can't keep on fighting Bakunin and his crowd, +Hans, and if I drop the fight the International will pass into +Bakunin's control. And I'd rather see the organization die in America +than live with Bakunin at the head; it's better so, better so, Hans.' +And it was then, when I heard him talk like that, and saw how +old-looking he had grown in a few months, that I knew we must soon +lose Karl."</p> + +<br /> +<h4>VII</h4> + +<p>"But he did not die soon—he lived more than ten years after that, +Hans," said the Young Comrade. "And ten years is a good long time."</p> + +<p>"Ach, ten years! But what sort of years were they? Tell me that," +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>demanded old Hans with trembling voice. "Ten years of sickness and +misery—ten years of perdition, that's what they were, my lad! Didn't +I see him waste away like a plant whose roots are gnawed by the worms? +Didn't I see his frame shake to pieces almost when that cough took +hold of him? Aye, didn't I often think that I'd be glad to hear that +he was dead—glad for his own sake, to think that he was out of pain +at last?</p> + +<p>"Yes, he lived ten years, but he was dying all the while. He must have +been in pain pretty nearly all the time, every minute an agony! 'Oh, +I'd put an end to it all, Hans, if I didn't have to finish <i>Capital</i>,' +he said to me once as we walked over Hampstead Heath, he leaning upon +my arm. 'It's Hell to suffer so, year after year, but I must finish +that book. Nothing I've ever done means so much as that to the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>movement, and nobody else can do it. I must live for <i>that</i>, even +though every breath is an agony.'</p> + +<p>"But he didn't live to finish his task, after all. It was left for +Engels to put the second and third volumes in shape. A mighty good +thing it was for the movement that there was an Engels to do it, I can +tell you. Nobody else could have done it. But Engels was like a twin +brother to Karl. Some of the comrades were a bit jealous sometimes, +and used to call Karl and Engels the 'Siamese twins,' but that made no +difference to anybody. If it hadn't been for Engels Karl wouldn't have +lived so long as he did, and half his work would never have been done. +I never got so close to the heart of Engels as I did to Karl, but I +loved him for Karl's sake, and because of the way he always stood by +Karl through thick and thin.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>"I can't bear to tell about the last couple of years—how I used to +find Karl sick abed in one room and his wife, the lovely Jenny, in +another room tortured by cancer. Terrible it was, and I used to go +away from the house hoping that I might hear they were both dead and +out of their misery forever. Only Engels seemed to think that Karl +would get better. He got mad as a hatter when I said one day that Karl +couldn't live. But when Jenny died Engels said to me after the +funeral, 'It's all over with Marx now, friend Fritzsche; his life is +finished, too.' And I knew that Engels spoke the truth.</p> + +<p>"And then Karl died. He died sitting in his arm chair, about three +o'clock in the afternoon of the fourteenth of March, 1883. I heard the +news that evening from Engels and went over to the house in +Maitland <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>Park Road, and that night I saw him stretched out upon the +bed, the old familiar smile upon his lips. I couldn't say a word to +Engels or to poor Eleanor Marx—I could only press their hands in +silence and fight to keep back the sobs and tears.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep083" id="imagep083"></a> +<a href="images/imagep083.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep083.jpg" width="100%" alt="THE MARX FAMILY GRAVE IN HIGHGATE CEMETERY." /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em; font-size: 90%;">THE MARX FAMILY GRAVE IN HIGHGATE CEMETERY.<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>"And then on the Saturday, at noon, he was buried in Highgate +Cemetery, in the same grave with his wife. And while Engels was +speaking over the grave, telling what a wonderful philosopher Karl +was, my mind was wandering back over the years to Treves. Once more we +were boys playing together, or fighting because he would play with +little Jenny von Westphalen; once more I seemed to hear Karl telling +stories in the schoolyard as in the old days. Once again it seemed as +if we were back in the old town, marching through the streets shouting +out the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>verses Karl wrote about the old teacher, poor old Herr von +Holst.</p> + +<p>"And then the scene changed and I was in Bingen with my Barbara, +laughing into the faces of Karl and his Jenny, and Karl was picking +the bits of rice from his pockets and laughing at the joke, while poor +Jenny blushed crimson. What Engels said at the grave I couldn't tell; +I didn't hear it at all, for my mind was far away. I could only think +of the living Karl, not of the corpse they were giving back to Mother +Earth.</p> + +<p>"It seemed to me that the scene changed again, and we were back in +Cologne—Karl addressing the judge and jury, defending the working +class, I listening and applauding like mad. And then the good old +Lessner took my arm and led me away.</p> + +<p>"Ah, lad, it was terrible, terrible, going home that afternoon and +thinking of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>Karl lying there in the cold ground. The sun could no +longer shine for me, and even Barbara and the little grandchild, our +Barbara's little Gretchen, couldn't cheer me. Karl was a great +philosopher, as Engels said there at the graveside, but he was a +greater man, a greater comrade and friend. They talk about putting up +a bronze monument somewhere to keep his memory fresh, but that would +be foolish. Little men's memories can be kept alive by bronze +monuments, but such men as Karl need no monuments. So long as the +great struggle for human liberty endures Karl's name will live in the +hearts of men.</p> + +<p>"<i>Aye, and in the distant ages—when the struggle is over—when happy +men and women read with wondering hearts of the days of pain which we +endure—then Karl's name will still be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>remembered. Nobody will know +then that I, poor old Hans Fritzsche, went to school with Karl; that I +played with him—fought with him—loved him for nearly sixty years. +But no matter; they can never know Karl as I knew him.</i>"</p> + +<p>Tears ran down the old man's cheeks as he lapsed into silence once +more, and the Young Comrade gently pressed one of the withered and +knotted hands to his lips and went out into the night.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Marx He Knew, by John Spargo + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MARX HE KNEW *** + +***** This file should be named 20743-h.htm or 20743-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/7/4/20743/ + +Produced by Fritz Ohrenschall, Jeannie Howse and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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