The noble-hearted woman at whose grave we stand was born in 
Salzwedel in 1814. Her father, Baron Wf[estphalen], was soon 
afterwards appointed Regierungsrat in Trier where he became 
intimately acquainted with the Marx family. The children of both 
families grew up together. By the time M[arx] went to the 
university, he and his future wife knew that their fates would 
henceforth be inseparable. 

In 1843, after Marx had first publicly distinguished himself as 
editor of the first Rheinische Zeitung, and after the suppression of 
that Paper by the Prussian government,*” the marriage took 
place. From that day she not only followed the fortunes, the 
labours, the struggles of her husband; she took an active part in 
them with the highest intelligence and the deepest passion. 

The young couple went to Paris, into an exile, first voluntary, 
soon compulsory. Even in Paris the Prussian government perse- 
cuted him. With regret I have to state, that a man like 
A. v. Humboldt so far demeaned himself as to cooperate in 
inducing the Government of Louis Philippe to expel M[arx] from 
France. The family moved to Brussels. The revolution of February 
ensued. During the troubles caused by this event in Brussels, the 
Belgian police not only arrested Marx, they must needs throw into 
prison his wife too, and that without the pretence of a pretext. 

The revolutionary effort of 1848 collapsed in the following year. 
New exile followed, first again in Paris, then, owing to fresh 
government interference, in London. And this time it was real 
exile with all its bitterness. The ordinary sufferings of exiles she 

a On june 19, 1843.— Ed. 

might have overcome—though in consequence of them she had to 
lose three children,” amongst them both her boys. But that all 
parties— governmental as well as oppositional, feudalist, liberal 
and so-called democratic, combined into one vast conspiracy 
against her husband, heaped upon him the vilest and most 
baseless calumnies; that the whole press without exception shut 
him out, that he stood helpless and defenceless before antagonists 
whom he and she must utterly despise—that hurt her to the life. 
And that lasted for years. 

But not for ever. By and bye the working class of Europe found 
itself placed in political conditions which gave it at least some 
elbow-room. The International Working Men’s Association was 
formed; it drew into the struggle one civilized country after the 
other, and in that struggle, foremost amongst the foremost, fought 
her husband. Then a time began for her which made up for many 
past sufferings. She lived to see the base slanders, heaped up 
around her husband, fly away as chaff before the wind; she lived 
to hear the doctrines of her husband, to stifle which the 
reactionists of all countries, feudalists as well as so-called demo- 
crats,” had spent all their efforts—to hear them proclaimed openly 
and victoriously in all civilized countries and in all civilized 
languages. She lived to see the revolutionary movement of the 
Proletariat seize one country after another, and raise its head, 
conscious of victory, from Russia to America. And one of her last 
joys, on her deathbed, was the splendid proof of irrepressible life, 
in spite of all repressive laws, which the German working class 
gave at the late elections.*” 

What such a woman, with such clear and critical intellect, with 
such political tact, with such passionate energy of character, with 
such capacity for self-sacrifice, has done in the revolutionary 
movement, that has not been pushed forward into publicity, that is 
not registered in the columns of the periodical press. That is only 
known to those who lived near her. But that I know, we shall 
often miss her bold and prudent counsels, bold without brag, 
prudent without sacrifice of honor. 

Of her personal qualities I need not speak. Her friends know 
them and will never forget them. If ever woman found her 
highest happiness in rendering others happy, that woman was she. 

The place where we stand is the best proof that she lived and 
died in the full conviction of atheist Materialism. Death had no 

terrors for her. She knew that one day she would have to return, 
body and mind, to the bosom of that nature from which she had 
sprung. And we, who now have laid her in her last resting-place, 
let us cherish her memory and try to be like her.* 

December 11, 1881