London, 3 October 1893 
Dear Julie, 

You and August will have got our postcard of Friday’s date. ** I found a 
colossal pile of work waiting for me and, with the help of Louise who is still 
up to her eyes in printed matter, have now toiled and moiled my way through 
what was the most urgent, and am thus able to drop you a couple of lines. 

Well, after our departure on Thursday. '*’ we saw Adolf Braun for a mo- 
ment at the Zoologischer Garten Station and then continued on our way. In 
our compartment there were two shabby looking johnnies who turned out to 
be something of a nuisance; luckily one of them, an Englishman, was 
completely drunk by ten o’clock, after which they spent the rest of the day in 
the corridor. 

In Hanover we had a meal consisting of soup and meat during the course 
of which we were joined by good old Kugelmann and his daughter ', who is 
far nicer than he is. He again treated me to a whole catalogue of medical 
precepts for the governance of my life, but also to a little basket containing 
meat sandwiches, apples and half a bottle of wine. The sight of it sent us into 
transports—red wine! But alas, it was so-called ‘red port’, a sweetish 
concoction which we bestowed upon the ticket collector in return for his 
kindness. 

Soon after this there arose a lively debate between the ticket collector and 
some of the passengers on the question of whether those bound for the Hook 
of Holland ought not to change at Lohne and travel via Rheine-Salzbergen. 
We stuck firmly to Oberhausen, since Louise’s ticket did not leave us any 
other alternative. At Minden, however, the train was already half an hour late 
and, since we had only 17 minutes at Oberhausen in which to make the 
connection, there was every prospect that we should miss it. It was here that 
the time-table August had given me in the morning really came in handy. We 
took the old Cologne-Minden railway 

* Franziska Kugelmann 

which I knew to be one of the most soundly built in Germany. As we passed 
these stretches, we could see that we were making up for quite a bit of lost 
time, and in this way we arrived punctually at Oberhausen. 

The mining district between Hamm and Oberhausen is just like a piece of 
the English black country. The atmosphere and the towns just as smoky and 
black as in England, and the houses, because mostly painted in light colour, 
even more unpleasantly blackened than the bare English brick. 

In Holland we again heard passengers and ticket collectors drop all kinds 
of dark hints about missed connections, but nevertheless we arrived at 
Rotterdam at 8.42 Dutch, i.e. 9.42 German time. That hour’s difference had 
made everything all right (it hadn’t been quite clear to us from August’s 
time-table exactly where the change of time became operative and hence we 
had been in a state of uncertainty). 

And though in Rotterdam we had to walk from one station to the other— 
about 10 minutes away—we still had some time in hand and arrived there 
before those who had travelled via Léhne-Rheine-Salzbergen. 

Aside from a little of Kugelmann’s fare, Louise had taken only one bowl 
of soup at Arnheim and another at Rotterdam, whereas I had subsisted on 
Kugelmann’s fare and beer. It was blowing quite nicely when we left. I soon 
turned in and was quite pleasantly rocked to sleep, but didn’t suspect there 
was anything amiss until I woke up in broad daylight after 8 hours, when we 
should long since have been in Harwich! I got up—lI had the cabin all to 
myself—no one on board was stirring. I went up on deck to find it 
completely empty—everywhere wet decks and signs of its having been a 
rough night. At last a young German came along and confided to me that we 
had been through a frightful storm. Soon after, a few damsels appeared, and 
then Louise; the poor thing had been closeted in a small cabin with five 
others and had heroically survived the worst, despite her hysterical and sea- 
sick entourage. Eventually, however, when the big rollers were succeeded by 
a choppy sea, she too momentarily succumbed to the importunities of old 
Neptune. 

We arrived two hours late in London—the Avelings were at the station— 
found everything in excellent order and attacked our work with the 
recklessness customary in those who have heroically weathered a slight 
storm. Nothing much would seem to have happened here, and it is only by 
degrees that we shall be able to find out about the little comings and goings 
of the local movement. 

Apropos, Ede Bernstein maintains that Paul Singer has totally mis- 

understood his article.* He never said that one should compromise, according 
to circumstances, with Conservatives, 202 National Liberals, 
Ultramontanes, °° etc.; all he had in mind was the Freethinking People’s 
Party. °’ 1 told him that I for one could not have deduced that from his 
article; at all events, the latter possibility is one he has also left open. 

But now, dear Julie, I must thank you and August once again for all the 
kindness and friendship you showed me, not only in Berlin but also in 
Zurich—and which August showed me throughout our trip; I can but remind 
you of your promise to pay us a visit here in the spring so that we for our part 
can show you London. Cordial regards to you both and to all our friends, 

Your 
F. Engels 

[Postscript from Louise Kautsky] 

Dearest Julie, 

I really am more than up to my eyes in work and as yet can see no way out of it, not even 
for writing letters. The General? who is settling down to his writing, has told you how we 
fared on the journey, but forgotten to say that he monopolised the sandwiches you gave us. 
All went very well with him on the trip, he was always cheerful and in good spirits, always 
worried about missing our connections, and full of beans. On Sunday I myself at once fell 
back into my former, housekeeping role. But our guests treated me indulgently. Please tell 
August that I have not yet been able to find out anything definite about the second English 
edition; *” I wish to see the book myself and shall get someone to buy it for me, but Reeves 
certainly wouldn’t sell it to me direct. 

I add my warmest thanks to those of the General. I have not had time to reflect upon all 
that I have experienced, and am living as if in a dream, a dream interspersed with work. And 
you, poor tormented souls, how are you? Love and kisses to you and August from 

Your 
Louise