The Marx He Knew | Page 5

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.
"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 a way somehow of saying things you couldn't forget.
"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.
"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 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!

"After the little crowd broke up Karl took me with him to his office.
Then I learned that he was the editor of the Rhenische Zeitung, 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 me
forget everything except that we were boys from home enjoying the
memories of old times.
"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.
"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 happy days those were that we spent at old Bingen!
"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, Vorwarts,
which published articles by Karl and other great men. Bakunin wrote
for it, I remember, and so did Heine and Herwegh, our sweet singers.
"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 little Jenny, eight
months old. Our little Barbara was just the same age.
"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