MORPHY IN ENGLAND.
It is easy to understand that when a man, and especially a young man,
feels his strength in any department of thought or action, he will be
desirous of putting his abilities to the severest test, so as to take that
rank to which he is entitled. Paul Morphy perceiving that it was a
hopeless task endeavoring to induce the chess magnates of the Old World to
visit America, resolved to cross the Atlantic himself, and it would be
difficult to imagine a more chivalric act in one so young than thus
embarking on a voyage of many thousand miles, for the sake of finding new
antagonists. The journeyings of Il Puttino from Italy into Spain to battle
with Ruy Lopez--the travels of the admirable Crichton through different
countries of Europe, are mediocre in comparison with this.
But an obstacle stood in the way of the proposed voyage. Paul Morphy was
not yet of age, and it would be necessary to first obtain the consent of
his family. This was difficult, for, in addition to other reasons,
objections were made to our hero's entering on so public a career,
interfering, too, as it would for a time, with his legal pursuits. A
committee was appointed by the Chess Club to wait upon Mr. Morphy's family
to request their consent to the much-desired voyage, and this was
ultimately granted. Strong hopes were entertained in England that the
American champion would assist at the meeting of the British Chess
Association in Birmingham, and, for that purpose, the committee had
offered to place at his disposal a certain sum to cover his expenses. This
was not accepted, Mr. Morphy little wishing to travel as a professional
chess-player. At the commencement of the month of June, the following
announcement appeared in the _Illustrated London News_:
ANNUAL MEETING OF THE CHESS ASSOCIATION.
It was noticed in our columns last week that this event, the
Chess-players' Derby day, was fixed to commence on the 22d of
June. The arrangements of the local committee are, of course,
not yet complete, but it is whispered that they have succeeded
in insuring the presence of the American chess phenomenon, Paul
Morphy, an attraction, of itself, sufficient to secure the
largest attendance which has been known for years.
The date for the assembling of the Association was ultimately postponed
until the latter part of August, it being feared, with reason, that the
sitting of Parliament would interfere with the attendance of many who
would otherwise be present. The committee wrote to inform Mr. Morphy of
this postponement, and again urging him to visit Europe, but he was
already _en route_ before the latter reached New Orleans.
I was both surprised and gratified when I read the announcement of Paul
Morphy's arrival in the _Illustrated London News_. Now, thought I, these
men who do not believe in an American chess-master, will be convinced.
We'll see if Morphy's games are merely "pretty," and "will not bear the
test of analysis;" and whether "he'll find plenty of matches." I wended my
way to the St. George's, feeling confident that I should find Morphy
there, and, after waiting a short time, I had the pleasure of welcoming
him to England. But, having arisen up from a sick bed to travel, joined to
the fatigues of a first voyage across the Atlantic, he did not appear in
as good fighting trim as when I had last seen him in New York.
On Mr. Staunton's arrival, Paul Morphy asked him if he had any objection
to play an off-hand game. Now it is Morphy's almost invariable custom to
wait to be asked; the solitary exceptions to this rule (to my knowledge)
being in the cases of Messrs. Staunton and Harrwitz. Mr. Staunton declined
the offer on the ground of an engagement preventing, and, notwithstanding
that they met frequently at the St. George's, he would never consent to a
contest of the most friendly description. Doubtless he was desirous of
first observing Morphy's capabilities against other players. The
well-known amateur, "Alter," whose games frequently grace the columns of
Mr. Staunton's paper, offered himself as a sacrifice. "Alter," however,
was not the first to measure skill with the young American, the Secretary
of the St. George's, Mr. Hampton, having already played two games with
him, on a previous occasion.
Morphy and "Alter" ultimately effected a score of "Alter" 1, and Morphy 4.
His next antagonist was Mr. Barnes, and the result of their play was, at
first, most surprising. During several successive days they scored
alternate games, and the London chess world consequently measured Morphy's
powers by this antagonist. Ultimately the former recovered from the
effects of his voyage, and the proportion was established of 19 to 7, the
last ten or twelve games being scored by Morphy almost without a break.
The first challenge which the young American received in London was from
Herr Loewenthal. Morphy says that no one can mention this gentleman's name,
without announcing the fact that he was one of the celebrated triumvirate
in the match between Pesth and Paris. Herr Loewenthal and the 19th century
came arm and arm into the world together, so that he has been contemporary
with many who have gone to another sphere. He was led into chess from
sheer jealousy, not of woman, but of a man. At a _cafe_ in Pesth, much
frequented by amateurs of the game,--in fact the Magyar Cafe de la
Regence,--he noticed that a crowd invariably surrounded a certain table
after 4 o'clock in the afternoon; and, on further inquiry, he learned that
the best chess-player in Hungary took upon himself daily to astonish the
natives there. That player was Zsen. Zsen was a clerk in the office of
Archives at Pesth, and, when the business of the day was over, he repaired
to the above-mentioned spot to play chess for a nominal stake, which never
exceeded a _zwanziger_ (sevenpence English). Another peculiarity of his
was, that, no matter what the strength of his opponent might be--queen,
rook, knight, or pawn player--he never would give any odds. His game was
dull, analytical, and sound to a tiresome extent, his only object being to
get through the _opening_ and _middle_, and then winning became a
certainty; for all his strength came out in the _endings_, and a very good
place, too, for it to appear in. Zsen went to Paris in 1831, and played
some games with Labourdonnais at the odds of Pawn and Move, winning the
majority. He then told the great Frenchman that he did not like playing
for stakes as a general thing, but that he would propose to him a match of
twenty-one even games for 200 francs; but Labourdonnais declined. And who
will say he was wrong? for what pleasure could there be in sitting down
day after day before the dullest player in Christendom, for the
eventuality of 200 francs? Zsen was so frightfully slow, even in ordinary
games, that he would have worn out 200 francs' worth of his opponent's
pantaloons before the match was half through. He was an exceedingly
nervous man, and this quality particularly evinced itself during the
Tournament of '51, to the eminent delight of his London friends. But he
was a good-hearted, amiable man, never losing his temper, and ever ready
to declare that he hadn't won the game, but his opponent had lost it.
We left Zsen over a move at the Pesth cafe. Herr Loewenthal observing what
interest seemed to be taken in chess, thought he should like to try his
hand at it, and forthwith pored over such works on the game as he was
informed would initiate him into its mysteries. Obtaining a little
knowledge, he soon after began playing daily with Zsen, receiving no odds,
because, as before stated, Zsen would not give any, upon principle. During
eighteen months, Loewenthal never scored one game. But whilst Zsen was away
on his travels at Paris and elsewhere, he made rapid progress,
particularly in the openings; and on his antagonist's return, he induced
him to give the advantage of Pawn and Move, and Zsen lost every game.
Returning to even play, the latter won the large majority; but with
constant practice, Loewenthal decreased the distance between them, although
he never turned the tables upon his adversary. Herr L. considers that, in
their best play, Grimm would win three games to Zsen's seven, and four to
his six. Most chess-players finished Grimm some years back, but he still
flourishes "down East." After the Hungarian agitation of 1848, he fled
into Turkey, and is now settled in Aleppo, where, as he turned Mussulman,
he no doubt revels.
Grimm was a music publisher in Pesth, and, according to Herr Loewenthal, a
man of high intelligence, being a celebrated _pianist_ and a thorough
proficient in the German, French, Italian, and Latin languages. He was
also renowned as a whist-player, and his equal at the billiard-table was
not to be found throughout the entire Austrian Empire. His chess was the
antithesis of Zsen's, being "brilliant, but not over sound," qualities
which find favor with "the gallery," but are dangerous to one's backers in
a match. This interesting triumvirate--Zsen, Grimm, Loewenthal--had it all
their own way, in Pesth, until July, 1842, when Alexandre came there, and
then they had him too. Alexandre brought his Encyclopaedia, or the
Encyclopaedia brought him, and both of them got sold in the Hungarian
capital. He thought the idea of anybody there beating him, simply
preposterous; but was irresistibly convinced to the contrary when Grimm &
Co. did it with so much charming facility, that he told them they were a
match for the Paris _Cercle des Echecs_, and advised them to send a
challenge forthwith. The triumvirate were shy at first, then did as they
were told, and, to their surprise, the Paris Club accepted their _defi_ by
return of post, enclosing the first move. The match consisted of two
games, and 1,250 francs a side; the reader can learn, on inquiry at Cafe
de la Regence in Paris, who didn't win it.
Herr Loewenthal's business led him twice a year to Vienna, and on those
occasions he improved his play with the amateurs of the _Cercle des
Echecs_ of that capital. In 1846, he won a match of Hampe, beating him
nearly 2 to 1. About the same period he visited Breslau, and won a
majority of games (off-hand) from Anderssen. He then steered for Berlin,
"the city of the seven stars"--Heyderbrandt, Bledow, Bilguer, Hanstein,
Mayet, Hoerwitz and Mendheim. The first of these paladins was absent from
the capital, but Herr L. met him subsequently at Vienna, and Heyderbrandt
won a majority of two games. With Hanstein, Loewenthal effected an even
result, but got the better of Mayet. In Von der Lasa's absence, Bledow was
incontestably the strongest player of the club; but Bledow was jealous of
his reputation, and declined opposing the Hungarian, until strongly urged
by the members. Herr Loewenthal states that Bledow evinced the greatest
generosity. Having a certainly-won game, but not wishing to damp a young
reputation by defeat, he said, "Oh, I suppose it can only be a drawn
game," and forthwith made a move which allowed his antagonist to escape
and draw the contest. Not many Bledows in this world!
In 1849, Herr Loewenthal visited the United States, during the contest
between Messrs. Stanley and Turner. With the latter gentleman he played
two matches, winning both, and subsequently accompanied him into Kentucky,
where he commenced another with Colonel Dudley, being again successful.
Thence he strayed to Cincinnati, where he met his fellow-countryman,
Colonel Pragay, and travelled with him to New Orleans, carrying a letter
of introduction to Mr. Eugene Rousseau. Immediately on arriving he was
taken ill with fever; but on recovery, he called upon that gentleman and
heard, for the first time, of Paul Morphy. Our hero, then but twelve years
of age, won two games, drew one, and lost none; and although Herr
Loewenthal did not imagine that he thus made the acquaintance of a master
whom he would eventually rank as the superior of every chess-player that
ever lived--Labourdonnais not excepted--yet he felt satisfied that his
youthful opponent would rise to equality with the strongest living
amateurs. As proof of this, I will give a paragraph from _The Era_ of
October 5th, 1856, twelve months before Paul Morphy was known outside of
Louisiana. Herr Loewenthal writes as follows:
"CHESS IN AMERICA.--The progress Chess has made in America is
almost, if not quite, equal to that which it has achieved in
England. This is more than might have been expected; for in a
comparatively new country men may be supposed to be busier and
more restless than in an old one, and it seems to be rather
against probabilities that a game, requiring quiet thought and
study, should have been developed to the same extent as more
bustling amusements in America. Yet that it is so is proved by
the fact that in almost every large town there is a Chess Club,
and many of these clubs are in communication, and play games by
correspondence. Another proof is also to be found in the number
of papers regularly devoting a part of their space to chess,
and giving, as the English chess papers do, well-contested
games, with notes, problems, and chess intelligence. Among the
first in rank of these is the _Albion_, the chess column of
which is, we believe, edited by Mr. Stanley, and among the
latest of the accessions to the chess ranks we observe _Frank
Leslie's Illustrated Paper_. In the first rank of the players
in New York (between which and Philadelphia a correspondence
match is now going on) we may mention Messrs. Stanley,
Sullivan, Thompson, and Perrin. We must pay some _attention to
chess in America if we mean to keep our laurels green_. The men
of the New World are not apt to lag behind when they throw
themselves into any pursuit, and if we do not take care, we may
have the next chess champion from the far west."
Herr Loewenthal, on quitting the Crescent City, returned to Cincinnati,
where he was induced to settle. He opened a smoking and chess divan, and
was on the high road to fortune, when he received a letter from Mr.
Charles H. Stanley, in New York, enclosing one from Mr. Staunton. This
communication invited Herr Loewenthal to attend the International
Tournament at London, in 1851, and ambition prevailed over cupidity. He,
however, got ousted in the first round of the tournay, his antagonist
being Mr. Williams, but he turned the tables upon that gentleman soon
afterwards, by beating him in a set match.
When the St. George's Chess Club removed to St. James's street, Herr
Loewenthal was elected secretary out of one hundred and forty candidates,
and officiated in that capacity during four years. "_The Era_" newspaper
commenced a chess column in February, 1854, and he was selected by the
proprietor to conduct it--our readers know with what success. A few months
ago, the _Illustrated News of the World_ announced its intention of
devoting a column weekly to the game, under the direction of Herr
Loewenthal, and he also edits an elementary chess article in the _Family
Herald_. A fair amount of weekly work for one man; especially when his
book labors and frequent play at the London, St. George's, and St. James's
are taken into consideration. The last-named club is his own child, and
promises to become one of the most flourishing in the metropolis.
Herr Loewenthal did not regard his play with Morphy at New Orleans as any
test of their respective strength, but it was not at all agreeable to his
feelings to have it recorded against him that he was beaten by a boy of
twelve. So, on Paul Morphy's arrival in England, he hastened to challenge
him, and of course a match was immediately agreed upon. It was at first
arranged that the match should be for L50 a side, and the victor he who
first scored seven games, but the challenger possessed so many warm
friends, all of whom wished to have a share in the stakes, that it was
proposed to Morphy to double the amount and increase the number of games
to nine. It is lucky that Morphy was not born a woman, for he never says
"no" to any proposition, and he did not to this. Half of Herr Loewenthal's
stakes were found by the London, and the remainder by members of the St.
George's; and it was stipulated that the games should be played
alternately at the rooms of those two clubs.
My readers know the result. According to the opinion, or rather the
statements, of numerous London players, Herr Loewenthal played much below
his usual strength--one gentleman stating that his combinations were
unworthy of a rook-player even. I was used to this, and liked it. The New
Yorkers had uttered similar stuff, saying that Morphy only beat them
because he knew the openings better, and I can state on authority that all
the players in Europe came to a mutual understanding not to play their
game when Morphy was their antagonist. But there was also another reason
for the latter's success. He frightened his adversaries, not by his
strength, but by his personal appearance. This boy of twenty-one, five
feet four inches in height, of slim figure, and face like a young girl in
her teens, positively appalled the chess warriors of the old
world--Narcissus defying the Titans. Herr Loewenthal was the first to give
Morphy his due; before the final game in the match was played, he said to
me: "I felt chagrined at the result of the first one or two games, because
I thought that I ought to have won them; but now I feel no longer
dissatisfied, for I am convinced that I am vanquished by superior
strength." And he has since told me--"After the first game I went home
saying to myself, 'Well, Morphy is not so terrible after all!' The second
_partie_ failed to change my opinion; but, in the third, I saw all my
combinations twisted and turned against me, and I felt myself in a grasp
against which it was almost vain to struggle." Chess-players will shortly
see this noble-minded gentleman's opinion of Morphy fully expressed, in a
collection of the latter's games which he has lately been engaged in
editing.
The following extract from _The Era_ newspaper thus announces the result
of the match to its readers:
FINISH OF THE GREAT CHESS MATCH.
The match between Mr. Paul Morphy and Herr Loewenthal came to an
end on Saturday the 22d, the American carrying the victory.
Although it was universally remarked that Herr Loewenthal's play
was far below his usual strength, it must at the same time be
admitted that the play of Mr. Morphy marks that gentleman out
as one of the finest players in the world. We shall be glad to
see him engage with other great European players, in order that
it may be proved which is the stronger in the game, the Old
World or the New. We believe Mr. Morphy is ready to challenge
all comers. There is something exceedingly romantic and
chivalrous about this young man's coming over to Europe and
throwing down the gauntlet to all our veterans. He is certainly
a very admirable Crichton of Chess, and, like the accomplished
Scot, he is as courteous and generous as he is brave and
skilful.
_The Era_, August 29th, 1858.
When the above match was only about half through, another was arranged
between our hero and "Alter," the former giving the odds of Pawn and Move.
In conversation one day with some gentlemen at the St. George's, Paul
Morphy had expressed himself dissatisfied with "Alter's" having won a
game from him, stating that he could give him the odds of Pawn and Move.
This coming to "Alter's" ears, he stated to Mr. Hampton, the secretary of
the Club, that he felt confident Mr. Morphy could do no such thing, and
that he would very willingly play a match with him, in a friendly spirit,
to convince him to the contrary. Whereupon Mr. Hampton brought the cartel
to Morphy, who gladly accepted it, and, the two principals being put face
to face, it was agreed that a set of ivory club-size Staunton chessmen
should become the property of the winner of the first five games. Now
"Alter" had been playing for months past at those odds (P. & M.) with Mr.
Staunton, holding his own against that gentleman, and he considered that
if he (Mr. S.) could not beat him, certainly Morphy could not. So
confident was he of the result, that he told the young American: "Were it
not for my position (meaning as a clergyman), I would willingly play you
for a thousand pounds." As far as he was concerned, Morphy, too, was
confident. Before the contest commenced, he said to me: "'Alter' may win
two games, but he will not win more;" and I would here notice his (M.'s)
power of estimating an opponent's strength. When the preliminaries were
settled with Herr Loewenthal, he stated to me: "If I cared about betting, I
would bet that Loewenthal does not win five games. Of course there will be
plenty of draws, but he will not get more than four." On our way to Paris,
he said: "Well, now I am going to play Harrwitz, and I would bet the same
as I did about Loewenthal;" and when he was preparing to meet Anderssen, he
awarded four games to the Prussian champion. In every instance he
overrated his opponents, or, perhaps I should rather say, underrated
himself.
The preliminaries were soon settled, all ceremony, seconds, &c., being
dispensed with; the only condition, that I can recollect, was in regard to
smoking. "Alter" observed that gentlemen could use the weed in the room
where the match was played, but it must be in moderation, so as not to
render the atmosphere insupportable. "Alter" gave a capital example on the
first game: he sat down in front of Morphy with an ordinary cigar in his
mouth; when that was nearly finished, he ordered the waiter to bring him a
full-sized _regalia_; cutty-pipe and "birdseye" followed the _regalia_;
and then he left the room to fetch an immense _meerschaum_, from which he
blew clouds worthy of Peter Stuyvesant and the Knickerbockers.
"Alter" was thoroughly acquainted with the peculiar nature of the "pawn
and move" game; Morphy, on the contrary, was less accustomed to those odds
than to any other. In New Orleans, he did not engage even players, or any,
in fact, but such as he gave the knight, and much more frequently, the
rook. In New York he played a short match at pawn and move with Mr.
Stanley, and that may be considered his introduction to such odds; I was
therefore as much astonished as any one when I saw him make such short
work of "Alter," who never won a single game, and only succeeded in
drawing two. I am afraid that this result seriously interfered with Mr.
Staunton's fixing a day for the commencement of the match between himself
and Morphy.
It must not be supposed that our hero was devoting all his time to chess,
or that the game was always uppermost in his thoughts. A foreigner, and
especially an American, feels bound to visit all "the lions" of the
English metropolis, and Morphy was no exception to the rule. I was almost
constantly with him, and certainly no subject was less frequently referred
to than chess. I have been amused with the conduct of gentlemen on similar
occasions, who seemed to think that no other subject than that could
interest him, and after pertinaciously confining the conversation to the
game, took upon themselves to declare that it was the single thought of
his life. So that, in England, he is looked upon as a chess automaton. In
France they give him the very opposite character, complaining of his
aversion for the game.
Precisely the same thing was observable in their references to the
peculiar style of his play. In England, they considered him the very
_beau-ideal_ of brilliancy, comparing him to McDonnel, and to "Cochrane,
without his faults." In Paris, however, they characterized his game as
"_solide_, close, and analytical, not possessing brilliance like
Labourdonnais;" although these Frenchmen, one and all, with the exception
of De Riviere, forced their close openings upon him.
Since Mr. Staunton's voluntary relinquishment of what he terms "actual
play," confining himself to consultation games and "odds," Mr. Boden is
admitted to be the best English player. The B's certainly form a strong
phalanx amongst London amateurs, numbering such names as Buckle, Boden,
Barnes, Brien, Bird; but the first-named gentleman has long since quitted
the lists. Mr. Boden was no exception to the rule of English players in
their opinion of Morphy, on the latter's arriving in Europe; but he was
one of the first to be convinced of the American's superiority, and, with
John Bull honesty, immediately avowed it. The admirably-conducted chess
column in _The Field_, is under his supervision; and his remarks therein
on Morphy's tactics are too well known to require any comment from me. I
have heard him state his conviction that no one could possibly be better
adapted for the game, whether physically or mentally; and he, too, like
Herr Loewenthal, ranks Morphy above all known players. In the month of
January last, he drew my attention to one game in particular, between our
hero and Anderssen, stating that he was satisfied "Labourdonnais would
have lost it ten times over." Now it requires great courage on the part of
any man to place a player beside Labourdonnais, much more above him. Herr
Loewenthal says that he does not wonder that the chess world is so backward
in giving Morphy the rank to which he is entitled; "but few players are
capable of appreciating his games, and it was only after careful analysis
that he could form a proper opinion of them." He assured me that he has
frequently been confounded at the depth of Morphy's combinations whilst
engaged in their work, expressing his firm conviction that when a
collection of his games shall be placed before the public, the chess world
will rank Morphy above all players, living or dead.
The proportion in which Morphy had beaten Mr. Boden was so great, namely,
five to one, that a prominent member of the St. George's remarked on
hearing it, "Well, I did not think any player living could win in such
proportion." I remember a similar occurrence in reference to Mr. Perrin,
the late secretary of the New York Chess Club, some weeks before the
appearance of Paul Morphy in that city. In answer to a friend, this
gentleman replied, "That is the same as saying that a player could give
any of us a piece," (meaning the principal members of his club, who were
considered about on a par with each other.) "Now, I don't think that
Labourdonnais, even, could give me the knight." Morphy, nevertheless,
after beating him at even, at pawn and move, and pawn and two, offered him
the knight, which was accepted "for trial's sake;" and out of five games
there was a difference of the odd victory, but my memory fails me as to
whether it was won by Morphy or not. Mr. Perrin will not feel displeased
at my mentioning this fact, because it is pretty well conceded now, that
where any other player can give pawn and two moves, Morphy can very easily
give the knight. European celebrities, in making comparison of the
strength of different amateurs, leave Morphy out of the question; and when
they compare him at all, it is only with Labourdonnais. And very few of
them, too, would scruple at taking odds from him. On the publication of
his challenge to Mr. Harrwitz to play a match at pawn and move for 500
francs, Mr. Boden stated in _The Field_, "There is more than one English
player who will be glad to meet Mr. Morphy on these terms."
The majority of his games in London, Morphy played at the Divan. It was a
general subject of regret, after he had vanquished the different amateurs
in the capital, that Mr. Bird was absent in the North, and that the
American might leave before that gentleman could visit London. Mr. Bird is
a terrible fellow for attacking right and left; his game was described as
the counterpart of Morphy's, it being added that he was just the
antagonist our hero required. At last, Mr. Bird arrived, and the result
between the two was more startling than ever, Morphy winning ten to one.
It is but just to state that Mr. Bird was somewhat out of play, as he
himself observed; adding, however, that he never was a match for his
antagonist. It gives me much pleasure to relate such instances as these,
because, as a general rule, there are no more self-confident mortals than
prominent chess-players.
It would be difficult to remember all the men with whom Morphy played at
the Divan; or, rather, with whom he did not play. But I must not forget
that merry individual, Mr. Lowe. It was in the Divan that Mr. Staunton
played Mr. Lowe that celebrated match at pawn and move, the play in which
on both sides, as Mr. S. observed, "was unworthy of second-rate players in
a third-rate coffee-room," because Mr. Staunton was beaten. Since that
occasion, Mr. Staunton has slighted the Divan, but Mr. Lowe still
flourishes there, ever ready to meet all comers, and if not nightly
playing somebody, at all events nightly making everybody laugh. Mr. Lowe
made trial of Morphy privately, immediately on the latter's arrival, and
forthwith ran to the Divan to tell everybody, much to everybody's disgust,
that not one of them would have any chance against the American. They all
laughed at him, the only reply being, "Oh, Lowe, you're a funny fellow!"
Before the Birmingham meeting, Morphy had met all the leading Metropolitan
players, with, of course, the exception of Mr. Staunton. And yet perhaps I
should not except that gentleman, for our hero had played in two
consultation games with him, Mr. S.'s ally being "Alter," and Morphy's,
Mr. Barnes. Messrs. Barnes and "Alter" are well matched. Both of these
consultation games were won by Messrs. Barnes and Morphy.
As the latter part of the month of August approached, considerable
curiosity was evinced in various quarters as to whether Paul Morphy would
then be a contestant in the tournament. Although not a Yankee, he
nevertheless displayed as much "cuteness" under oft-repeated
interrogatories as the downiest "down Easter;" feeling what an important
bearing his determination would have upon the expected match with Mr.
Staunton. In a subsequent chapter will be found his reasons for not
entering the lists on that occasion. He was well aware that his decision
must necessarily produce considerable disappointment, but he was conscious
that a tournament triumph is by no means an accurate test of strength. If
chess can ever become a game of chance, it is under such circumstances;
and the only sure criterion of the respective strengths of two opponents
is by actual hand-to-hand encounter.
But Morphy did not intend disappointing the Birmingham gentry altogether,
and felt convinced that if he played six or eight games blindfold before
the association, they would pardon his absence at the opening of the
meeting. After the tournament had got into the second section, he left
London and arrived at Birmingham before the day's proceedings had fully
commenced. I had the pleasure of accompanying him, and on our arrival at
the College in which the meeting of the British Chess Association was
held, we found quite a crowd in the commodious rooms provided by the
Committee of Management. The President of the Birmingham Club, Mr. Avery,
introduced the young American to the members of the association, and the
cheers with which he was received were such as seldom come from others
than Englishmen. Morphy advanced up the room without the slightest
embarrassment, although his reception was as unlooked-for as it was
flattering. Saint Amant, who was present, wrote a brilliant account of the
meeting to the Paris journal _Le Sport_, and I am only sorry that I have
not the article in question by me at the present moment. The style of the
article, however, is indelibly fixed in my memory, reminding one of the
Lays of the old Troubadours. Saint Amant writes prose in poetry, and he
has made of Morphy an epic hero. He tells the Parisians that the young
American is no mere pale-faced boy, visiting foreign lands to increase his
powers; but "a citizen of the United States, who comes to claim a sceptre
in Europe." Then again, "his walk is that of a king, and he advances
through the crowd of strangers like a monarch receiving homage from his
court." But he does not forget to state that Morphy is innately modest,
and that all this admiration has no bad effect upon him; for such has been
the theme of every one who has been brought in contact with him.
Most of the principal players in England were assembled at Birmingham, in
August, 1858. Amongst them, Staunton, Loewenthal, Boden, Bird, Kipping,
Owen, Salmon, Avery, Hampton, the President of the Association, Lord
Lyttelton, Falkbeer, Brien, etc. The prominent feature of the meeting was
of course the tournament prizes of sixty and twenty guineas, for which
Messrs. Staunton, Loewenthal, St. Amant, Falkbeer, Kipping, Owen, Hughes,
Brien, Smith, Ingleby, Bird, Zsabo, Hampton, Brettlestone, and Salmon
contended. The sixteenth player was intended to be Morphy, but not
appearing in time, he was ruled to have lost all further share in the
contest. It was matter for much disappointment that Mr. Boden did not
enter the lists, especially after the gallant fight he had made at the
previous meeting of the association in Manchester. The final result was
that Herr Loewenthal carried off the first prize, and Herr Falkbeer the
second; and, so far as the former gentleman was concerned, almost every
player was both astonished and gratified at the _denouement_. It was only
during the week preceding the Birmingham Festival, that the Hungarian had
succumbed to his youthful antagonist, and he had consequently entered on a
fresh contest with all the disheartening recollections of defeat; a
defeat, too, which he expressed his belief had seriously damaged his chess
reputation. Prominent London players had criticized his games with Morphy
in an inconsiderate spirit, the almost universal statement being that he
had not played up to any thing like his usual strength. The criticisms on
his moves in the widely circulated columns of the _Illustrated London
News_ were cruel to a degree; slighting allusions being made to his
"bookish theoric," etc. Yet this old veteran goes down to the field of
battle with unshaken courage, wins two games, one after the other, from
Mr. Staunton in the second section of the tournay, and carries off the
first prize in the teeth of fourteen able competitors. This result proved
one thing beyond a doubt, namely, that Morphy's late triumph was the
consequence of his superior strength, and not from mere want of practice
and skill on the part of Herr Loewenthal. And it also verified the
observation of Mr. George Walker, in _Bell's Life_, that "Mr. Morphy beat
Mr. Loewenthal because Mr. Morphy was stronger than Mr. Loewenthal." Oh, Mr.
Walker! Mr. Walker! what a rude way you have of putting naked truths
before the public!
Of course Morphy was not allowed to twirl his thumbs in idleness,
especially with so energetic a master of the ceremonies as Mr. Avery. This
gentleman soon arranged a contest between our hero and Mr. Kipping, the
leading Manchester player, and exponent of the Evans' Gambit. Mr. K. had
the move, and played the opening he has so much at heart; Morphy accepted,
under the impression that he, too, knew something about the Evans'. First
game scored by the American, the Manchester amateur thirsting for revenge.
Morphy, in his turn, plays the Evans', and Mr. Kipping cries "enough." No
other single games were played by Morphy during the meeting, the leading
celebrities present being engaged in the tournament, but our hero made up
the difference by astonishing the natives with a display of his blindfold
powers.
When Morphy declared his intention, in London, to play eight games
without sight of the board, there were very few who believed the thing
possible. They knew that Labourdonnais and Philidor had played two or
three games simultaneously, and that Kieseritzky and Harrwitz had repeated
the performance in later times, but there was a wide leap from three to
eight antagonists. Harrwitz had earned a great reputation in Europe by his
blindfold prowess, and was regarded without a rival, although many other
players, such as Anderssen, De Riviere, etc., had occasionally met two or
three antagonists at a time. Here was "a coil;" this young champion of the
West, not satisfied with vanquishing all the chess veterans of England
over the board, prepares to cast for ever into the shade the most
astonishing performances of this and past ages. Well might Saint Amant
declare that it was enough to make the bones of Philidor and Labourdonnais
rattle in their graves!
I well remember Paul Morphy's first blindfold contest in New York. It was
on the occasion of Paulsen's playing against four antagonists without
sight of the board. Morphy offered to be one of his adversaries, and to
meet him on the same conditions; and somewhere about the twentieth move he
announced mate in five, much to Paulsen's astonishment, who did not think
the crash was so near, although well aware he was "going to the bad." Mr.
Paulsen got such an insight into Morphy's blindfold capabilities, that he
subsequently observed to me, "Mr. Morphy can play as many games, without
seeing the board, as I can, only he is so unwilling to lose a game."
It will here be well to mark the difference between the blindfold
performances of these two gentlemen. Both of them _see the boards_ in the
mind's eye equally well, but there the resemblance stops. Paulsen's
contests average fifty moves, whereas Morphy's seldom extend beyond
thirty. The former is a _balista_, the latter, a rifle bullet. What each
is over the board, he is with his back turned to it, and there are many
even in Europe who maintain that Morphy's blindfold feats are more
brilliant than his usual mode of play. Paul Morphy, however, attaches very
little importance to these displays, calling them mere _tours de force_,
notwithstanding that they appear so wonderful to the multitude. To quote a
favorite expression of his, one frequently used by him in speaking on the
subject--"It proves nothing."
A young gentleman has lately appeared somewhere in Germany, who, we are
informed, has reproduced Morphy's performances at Birmingham and Paris. In
fact he is represented to have precisely re-enacted the American's victory
in the French capital, playing against eight _strong_ antagonists, winning
from six and drawing from two. There seems some "method" in this; at least
I for one cannot help feeling suspicious, especially as the news is
heralded to the world in connection with Morphy's name. I have seen one of
the games played on the occasion, in which this young gentleman announces
mate in ten or twelve moves--an astonishing announcement, indeed, under
the circumstances. The whole affair is beautifully managed throughout,
and, whether played blindfolded or over the board, marks the player as an
amateur of the very highest order. Was the transaction _bona fide_? Now I
do not wish to depreciate any man for the sake of benefiting another.
_Palmam qui meruit, ferat._ We know that Morphy has played against eight
antagonists on two separate and most public occasions, and that the most
eminent players in England and France were witnesses of his performance.
If Germany does possess a second Morphy, let him step forward and prove
his identity, and I, for one, will do him reverence. Cannot that
responsible body, the Berlin Chess Club, tell us something tangible about
him, and why it is that we never heard any thing about him till now?
Perhaps he is a new Deschappelles, and has acquired chess in forty-eight
hours, on hearing of Morphy's feats. The Berlin Schackzeitung can surely
investigate this affair, and enlighten us on what seems very much like a
_ruse de guerre_--an invention of the enemy.
But let us return to Birmingham. Mr. Avery asked the young American what
eight antagonists he would select; when the latter replied that it was
immaterial to him, but that he should prefer all strong players. There
were then in the room Messrs. Staunton, Saint Amant, Loewenthal, Boden,
Falkbeer, Brien, and others of not much inferior strength, and Morphy was
in hopes that many, if not all, of these gentlemen would offer themselves
as opponents. But he was mistaken, and great difficulty was experienced by
the Committee of Management in making up the required eight, who were,
finally, as follows: Lord Lyttelton, President of the British Chess
Association, Rev. Mr. Salmon, the strongest Irish player, Messrs. Kipping,
Avery, Wills, Rhodes, Carr, and Dr. Freeman. Paul Morphy was put up in a
corner at the end of the room, and, every thing being prepared for action,
he threw open his portholes and gave the signal, "Pawn to King's Fourth on
all the boards."
Of course I am not going to mystify the general reader with the scientific
details of the contest. I know that Lord Lyttelton had the first board,
and received the deference due to his exalted rank, by being the first put
_hors du combat_, and I remarked, too, that after his lordship had decided
on his various moves, he would get up from his seat, walk towards the end
of the room, and contemplate Morphy, as though desirous of seeing how he
did it. And I know, too, that St. Amant was running from table to table,
giving advice to one and the other with his continual "Il va croquer ca,"
as an intimation that one or the other must look out for a pawn or piece
in danger. And then, too, Morphy kept on checking Mr. Avery's king by
moving his rook from the seventh square to the eighth, backwards and
forwards, until that estimable gentleman declared it was a drawn game,
when a bystander horrified him with the information--"That is only after
fifty moves; Morphy will keep you there until he has kiboshed the others,
and then he will honor you with his sole attention." But the game was
finally declared drawn.
And, at the finish, how everybody applauded when Morphy arose, the
vanquisher of six, having only lost the game with Mr. Kipping--through an
oversight at the beginning. And how everybody was astonished when he
stepped from his seat as fresh as a newly plucked daisy, and Mr. Staunton
examined him closely to find traces of fatigue. Then indeed his not
playing in the tournament was forgiven and forgotten.
Then there was the soiree, and the capital matter-of-fact address of Lord
Lyttelton. His lordship lauded Morphy to the skies, both for his blindfold
and other play, and referred to the match with Mr. Staunton, trusting that
Morphy would beat every other antagonist but that gentleman. Nothing more
now remained to be done in England for some months to come; and Morphy
returned to London, to prepare for his campaigns on the Continent.