“Two or three years after that I was working in Cologne, where I had a sweetheart, when I read in a paper, the Rhenische Zeitung, 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.

“So that night I went to the meeting and listened to the speeches.  Presently he 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 Karl making his way to the front, all eyes fastened upon him.  I could see in a moment that he was much beloved.

“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.

“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, Vorwärts, 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 to help, but Karl was too proud I suppose to let his trouble be known to us.