Kitabı oku: «The Exploits and Triumphs, in Europe, of Paul Morphy, the Chess Champion», sayfa 10
CHAPTER XIII
MORPHY AND THE FRENCH AMATEURS
Morphy's arrival in Paris, and his doings at the Café de la Régence, soon began to make him much sought after. The way in which some folks get lionized in the French capital is remarkable, and Morphy had to submit to it, not merely at the café, but even in his hotel. We soon found that continued residence at the Hotel Meurice would be inconvenient, for many reasons; and within a day or two of our arrival, had located ourselves in the Hotel Breteuil, at the corner of the Rues de Rivoli and du Dauphine, where we had a magnificent view of the palace and gardens of the Tuileries, and were within a stone's throw of the best quarters of Paris and the Régence. What was our surprise to learn, subsequently, that Harrwitz was residing next door to us; and that Saint Amant had, formerly, occupied the very apartments in which we had installed ourselves. We had not been long in our new abode before Morphy received a visit from the grandson of Philidor. They had a lengthy colloquy together, and of course Morphy asked his visitor if he played at chess. He replied, that he once gave some attention to the game, but found that he possessed little aptitude for it, and therefore relinquished all further study; not thinking it right that any one bearing the name of Philidor should be looked upon as a mazette.
Our hero's installation at the Café de la Régence waked up all the slumbering embers of French chess, and men who had not been seen for years past came back to their early love. The well-known Polish amateur, Budzinsky, was amongst these, and Laroche, contemporary of Labourdonnais and Deschappelles. Then we found there such players as Mr. Eugene Rousseau, of New Orleans, on a visit to his family in Paris, and who had been so much "at home" in the café in other years. How proud he was of the fame and feats of his young fellow-townsman amidst the Gallic paladins! and how desirous he was that Morphy should encounter Monsieur Laroche, whose game he characterized as sound to a terrible extent, characterizing that gentleman as "un rude gaillard." It was only after Mr. Rousseau's departure that Laroche and Morphy met, when we found that the former was "sound," but the latter "sounder." Mr. L. had not been seen at the Régence for a long period; some told us that he was settled in Bayonne, others that he had given up chess altogether: but the appearance in the chess heavens of this Star of the West, brought him back to the old battle-field, and no one could make even games with him but De Rivière and Harrwitz, the Prussian amateur merely winning a small majority.
Monsieur Journoud, one of the best known and strongest of French players, and a member of the Paris Committee of Co-operation on the International Tournament of 1851, played upwards of a dozen games at different times with Morphy; but though he came very near winning on one or two occasions, our hero always wriggled out at last at the right end of the horn. Journoud once described his opponent's game as "disgustingly correct;" Boden speaks of Morphy's "diabolical steadiness," which means pretty near the same thing.
De Rivière certainly made the best show against Morphy of all the players in Paris, having scored one game in good style, and having lost at least one which he ought to have gained. He had got his opponent into a position which might be termed "putting it to him," and Morphy, like the wolf, was —
"Dying in silence, biting hard,"
when he made a move "to please the gallery." Now Morphy never allows liberties to be taken with so serious a matter as check mate; he goes straight to the finish himself without fuss or nonsense, and expects others to do the same; he, therefore, worked clear out of his difficulties and forced his opponent ultimately to resign. De Rivière was mortified at the result, and states that he went home very angry with himself in consequence.
This gentleman is incontestably the most rising of the French players, and will make some amateurs tremble for their chess reputation ere long. In 1851, he did not know a move in the game, so that his progress has been rapid; and as he has not yet reached his thirtieth year, it is only probable that he will become much stronger; that is, if he will keep up his practice, which is not certain, inasmuch as he has lately become "mated" in a manner most agreeable to his feelings, and we have heard of ladies who object to their lords and masters making love to other nymphs – even though that nymph be Caïssa. Let us hope that, in this instance, pater familias, whose "intentions are strictly honorable," may be allowed an occasional respite from the cradle and perambulator, and that "curtain lectures" will not deter him from hot pursuit after other men's queens.
It was soon found useless for any one to play Morphy even, as he scored almost every game. Meeting Monsieur Laroche at the café one morning, that gentleman asked me why our hero did not offer odds to everybody. I replied that no doubt many gentlemen would feel hurt at such a proposition being made to them, and I asked him – "Would you play Morphy at pawn and move?" to which he unhesitatingly replied "Yes." M. Journoud was sitting beside him, and he expressed himself in like manner. On informing Paul Morphy of this conversation, he requested me to inform the proprietor of the café that, in future, he should play no one without giving odds; excepting, however, Herr Harrwitz. He was most desirous of again meeting the Prussian amateur, the latter having made some rather peculiar observations with regard to their match; as, for instance, that he had not lost the affair, Morphy having consented to annul it: that he was not a match player, and played much stronger off-hand: that Morphy did not beat him by combination, but by sitting him out, and so forth. But Harrwitz always took care to keep out of harm's way, and although Morphy came day after day to the café, with the avowed intention of meeting him, Herr H. had always got one or the other reason for not playing.
Laroche, Budzinsky, Devinck, and other leading amateurs tried their luck at pawn and move, with no better result than contending even. Others tried at pawn and two, as, for instance, Lequesne, Guibert, Lecrivain, and Delaunay. Who of my chess readers does not know this brilliant writer in the Palamède, who has kept everybody on the broad grin throughout his numerous articles? He is always full of fun and sparkling wit, and merrily did he display it with Morphy. The first time they played, Delaunay sacrificed piece after piece, in a way to terrify anybody but his young antagonist, and certainly seemed to occupy a position dangerous to Morphy's peace of mind. The latter made one of his peculiar moves, when Delaunay observed, eyeing the board with one eye, and the spectators with the other – "Voila un coup du bon Dieu," and then making his reply, which set our hero reflecting, he added – "Et, en voila un du diable." But it was all of no use, and Morphy soon turned the tables upon him. M. Delaunay styles himself "un casse échiquier," for he plays as though driving spike nails. At the London Divan some months since he astonished the spectators by breaking one of the pawns, when he immediately cried out – "Oh, that's nothing; I break the rooks in Paris."
Morphy was easily approached by anybody, no matter what their strength, and I doubt much whether there is any frequenter of the Régence who did not play one or more games with him. As he invariably refused to play for any stake, this pleased them the more, and set them making comparisons between him and certain others, not at all complimentary to the latter. But what pleased them most of all was the quiet unobtrusiveness of his behavior, and the courtesy with which he treated everybody. Where his skill gained one admirer, his manner made ten warm friends.
Some of my readers may complain that I am "laying it on rather thick," and ask "Why shouldn't he be quiet and unobtrusive?" I reply that I am not to be deterred from writing what I know to be the fact (having been a witness thereof for several months) by any accusation of toadyism. I write what George Walker, Saint Amant, Löwenthal, and all the chess editors Morphy has met, have written before me; and they wrote as I now write, because the circumstance is rather extraordinary. Chess players, generally, are a class vain and imperious; and young players, like the young of all classes, are apt to be carried away by success. How few eminent amateurs are there who do not give themselves certain airs when winning – aye, and losing too – lolling back in their seats, sticking their thumbs in their arm-holes, and regarding the spectators with a self-satisfied air, as much as to say – "There, my boys, what d'ye think of that?" One gentleman at the Régence had long bullied the gallery and his antagonists in this manner; no wonder, therefore, that Morphy made warm friends of those who were that man's enemies.
CHAPTER XIV
MORPHY GETS BEATEN
A few weeks after the resignation of the match by Herr Harrwitz, the amateurs of the Régence invited Herr Anderssen to visit Paris for the purpose of playing a match with Paul Morphy. Our hero originally intended making a visit to the principal chess clubs of Germany, and especially to Berlin, but having been an invalid since his arrival in the French capital, he feared to undertake the long journey by rail, and it was in consequence of this that the aforesaid invitation was sent. Herr Anderssen immediately replied, that his duties as mathematical professor at Breslau presented an insurmountable objection to his leaving, but that the Christmas vacation would enable him to meet the American player in Paris.
Morphy said, thereupon, that he should be deprived of the pleasure of crossing swords with the victor in the International Tournament, inasmuch as he must be at home before Christmas. On hearing this, I began to talk the matter over quietly with him, asserting that his voyage to Europe was useless, if he did not play Anderssen. All was of no effect. Morphy did not appear to have the slightest ambition, say what I would to him. He must be at home in December; he had promised to be there, and home he would go. Very well; Morphy and I were at daggers drawn and we began our fight. He said he would go, and I said he shouldn't. He wanted to know how I could prevent him; I told him that all the clubs in Europe would stop him. "Very well," answered he, "I'll be stronger than all Europe." "Bravo," says I, "that's spirited, at all events." Says he – says I – says I – says he – and Morphy went to sleep and I to work.
Without saying a word to anybody, I set to writing letters to all the leading Chess Clubs on the Continent and in England, informing them of the bad move Morphy was about to make, and requesting those in the interests of chess to induce him to remain, until at all events he had met Herr Anderssen. Now, the mere fact of Morphy staying, as the simple individual, was nothing; but it was something to make sure beyond all dispute that he was infallibly the best living player; and, in addition, to add many games to the finest pages of chess literature. I am happy to state that the different clubs thought as I did; so the result will prove.
After a week or two, Morphy began receiving letters from Amsterdam, Leipsic, Brussels, Berlin, Breslau, etc.; from the London and St. George's Chess Clubs; requisitions signed by the amateurs of the Café and Cercle de la Régence, expressing the earnest wish of all that he would remain throughout the winter. Herr Anderssen wrote him a lengthy epistle, in which he assured him he did not think it possible he could leave Europe without playing him, and adding his voice to the general cry.
Morphy thought he must go. Then the society in which our hero was so frequent a visitor began to declare that he really must remain, and it is hard work for any man to refuse when a request is backed by such sweet glances as make requests almost commands.
Our hero was now wavering, and the game was in my hands, he not at all sorry if I could win it. I had one final resource: a pretty little check-mate with a medical man and a certificate. The doctor, calling on our patient one day, learned from him that he was about returning home, whereupon he informed him that in the then state of his health a winter voyage across the Atlantic was not precisely beneficial, and wrote his opinion accordingly. This I took, and inclosed with other matter to his friends in New Orleans, and Morphy seeing no way out of the difficulty, ultimately surrendered, and I had the satisfaction of hearing him declare that he should pass the winter in Paris. There was only one person dissatisfied with this. Meeting Harrwitz shortly after, I informed him with a benignant smile, "You will be happy to hear that Morphy has decided to pass a few months longer here." Harrwitz replied, with a smile that was not benignant, "Then Mr. Morphy is not a man of his word."
CHAPTER XV
MORPHY AND ANDERSSEN
The first week in December, Monsieur de Rivière received a communication from Herr Anderssen, announcing his approaching arrival in Paris. A week prior to this Morphy had been laid up in bed with a severe illness. The rigors of a first winter in northern climates had told upon him, and I feared much for the result. He was leeched, and lost a great quantity of blood – I told him three or four pints; to which he replied, "Then there's only a quart left." He was kept very low during a fortnight, and having to lift him out of bed only four days before the match with the great Prussian master, I found him too weak to stand upon his legs, although in bed he did not feel so helpless. For two months he had had an antipathy to chess, and I had experienced the greatest difficulty in inducing him to go to the Régence at all. When I would ask him at breakfast what he was going to do with himself during the day, his immediate reply would be, "I am not going to the Régence," and he declined invitations if he thought he should be obliged to play chess.
When I brought him the news that Anderssen had left Breslau, Herr Mayet having written me to that effect, Morphy said to me, "I have a positive chess fever coming over me. Give me the board and pieces, and I'll show you some of Anderssen's games." And with his astounding memory, he gave me battle after battle with different adversaries, variations and all. How he dilated on a certain game between him and Dufresne, in which, though under the mate, he first of all sacrifices his Queen, and after seven or eight moves forces his opponent to resign. "There," said Morphy, "that shows the master."
What wonderment he has caused with his omnipotent memory! I have seen him sit for hours at the Divan and the Régence, playing over, not merely his own battles, but the contests of others, till the spectators could scarcely believe their senses. It will be remembered by many of my readers, that when Mr. Staunton published the eight blindfold games played at Birmingham, he omitted some twenty or thirty of the concluding moves in the game with the Rev. Mr. Salmon. When we had been two months in Paris, Herr Löwenthal wrote me to request that I would forward him the remaining moves, as there was a desire to have the partie complete. It was nearly midnight, and Morphy had gone into his bedroom after dictating me some games played during the day, and, mindful of Herr L.'s request, I called to him, asking whether he was coming back, when he replied that he was already in bed. I said I should be obliged if he would let me bring him a board and light, in order that he might dictate me the required moves, when he answered "There's no necessity for that: read me over what Staunton published, and I'll give you the remainder." He called over the omitted moves as fast as I could write them down.
Going into Morphy's bedroom one morning at ten o'clock, whom should I find sitting there but Herr Anderssen? He had arrived by a late train the night previous, and his first visit was to his young challenger, whom he was indeed sorry to find ill in bed, especially as his absence from Breslau was limited to two weeks. Morphy assured him that he should be well enough to play the following week; but Anderssen replied that he should not like to commence a match until Morphy was in a fit state to undergo the fatigue. They then agreed that the match should consist of thirteen games; in other words, he should be victor who first scored seven; and, as neither of them desired any stake but honor, the preliminaries were quickly arranged. From that we got to talking on various subjects, and Anderssen informed us, greatly to our surprise, that the German papers had published a statement to this effect: "Mr. Morphy has finally decided on remaining in Europe until spring, in consequence of the pressing solicitations of his friend, Herr Harrwitz." How we roared!
This was Anderssen's first visit to the French metropolis, and I immediately offered to show him some of the lions. So forth we sallied. He was desirous of going to the Régence; but two hours would elapse before anybody would be there, and in the mean time he could see a few public buildings. The first place I took him to was, of course, the Louvre, and, as it had rained copiously the night before, I walked him across the Place du Carrousel, in order to soil his boots with the mud. Most of his attention was taken up with keeping that portion of his attire clean; but, when that had become no longer possible, his leisure was entirely devoted to sight-seeing. Of course, we could not altogether avoid talking about the main object of his visit; he told me he had only seen a few of Morphy's games, and asked me what was the opinion of the Régence in reference to his style of play. I replied that it was the opposite of what they thought in England and America, characterizing it as sound rather than brilliant; but that there was a reason for this, inasmuch as the French players persisted in playing close openings. He replied, "No wonder; no man would willingly expose himself to Morphy's thundering attacks," [attaques foudroyantes.]
On returning to the Régence, we found Harrwitz, who, by-the-bye, is a fellow-townsman of Anderssen, and they were at the same school together. The latter knew that Harrwitz stated that he beat him the majority of games, and he was most desirous of proving the fallacy of the assertion, and immediately proposed an encounter. This was accepted, and out of six games, played on five different occasions, Anderssen won three, Harrwitz one, and two were drawn. After that, little doubt existed as to which was the stronger player, and when, just before leaving Paris, Anderssen was complimented on this result, he said, "Oh, there is but one Morphy in the world."
On the day of Anderssen's arrival, Morphy told his medical adviser that he must get him well enough to commence the match on the following Monday. The doctor said it all depended upon his feeling sufficiently strong to undergo the fatigue, when his patient replied, that what he feared was a hard battle exhausting him too much to continue the struggle next day. On the doctor's advice, he consented to play the match in the hotel, so as not to undergo the fatigue of moving, and it was arranged that only such as were specially invited should be present, but that the moves should be forwarded every half-hour to the Régence.
The Saturday before the commencement of the match, Harrwitz performed his feat of playing eight blindfold games simultaneously at the rooms of the Cercle, only subscribers of five francs or upwards being admitted. Herr Harrwitz had fixed upon seven o'clock in the evening as the time for commencing; and I, like many others, had advised him to choose an earlier hour, or he would not get through till long past midnight. He replied that he should finish in from four to five hours; "he knew this positively because he had been rehearsing for the occasion;" but the result proved how much he was mistaken, as he did not get through till near sunrise. His antagonists were mainly rook or rook and knight players, Signor Préti, the weakest of Morphy's blindfold opponents, being incomparably the strongest. Herr Anderssen, who was present, assured me that many of the players left pieces en prise, as though designedly, and that, beyond the fact of seeing the boards in his mind's eye, Harrwitz proved nothing by his exertions. The strangest affair in connection with this display is, that although Harrwitz edited a chess column in the Monde Illustré he never gave a single one of his blindfold games, nor would he permit any to be made public.
Mr. Harrwitz was perfectly in his right mind when endeavoring to emulate Paul Morphy. But the folks at the Régence ridiculed what they called aping his superior, and many were the squibs got off at his expense. One, the most popular of all, was as follows: —
"Tu veux singer Morphy, joueur phénoménal;
Jeune imprudent, tu forces ta nature.
En vain tu te poses en original,
Tu n'en es que la caricature."
In plain English prose – "You wish to ape Morphy, the phenomenon; imprudent young man, you strain yourself. It is useless to put yourself forward as an original; you are merely a caricature." – Not complimentary, certainly.
On Monday morning, I got Morphy out of bed for the first time since his illness, and, at noon, assisted him into the room where the match was to come off. No time was lost in getting to work, and, within five minutes of his entering, as many moves had been played. Our hero had first move, and ventured the Evans' gambit, which he lost after seven hours' fighting, and upwards of seventy moves. I noticed that he was restless throughout the contest, which was only to be expected after having been so long in bed, and without nourishment.
Morphy was charmed with Anderssen's defence throughout, and has frequently cited it as an admirably conducted strategy. It proved to him that the Evans' is indubitably a lost game for the first player, if the defence be carefully played; inasmuch as the former can never recover the gambit pawn, and the position supposed to be acquired at the outset, cannot be maintained.
He did not appear much fatigued after his exertions, and next morning he had visibly improved in appearance. Anderssen, now having the move, played out his king's pawn and knight, and Morphy supposed he too was going to have a turn at the Evans'. No such thing; he played that disgusting arrangement, the Ruy Lopez; but it only came to a drawn game, our hero believing he himself could have won it, had he played properly at the end. The third day, Morphy looked himself again, his complexion being clear, and his eyes sparkling with all their Creole brilliancy. He thought he should like to have a turn at the Ruy Lopez also, and dashed away at such a furious rate, that Anderssen resigned in a few minutes over the hour, some twenty-one moves having been played. Anderssen immediately asked if he would commence another game forthwith, and Morphy consented; this fourth contest being also a Ruy Lopez, but ending likewise in the discomfiture of the Prussian champion. And this partie was the last we saw of R. L. during the struggle.
Morphy now scored the fifth, sixth, and seventh games, thus having won five consecutively. The eighth was a draw; the ninth he carried off in seventeen moves; the tenth, played immediately after, Anderssen marked in seventy-seven. As the Professor was leaving, he said to me in his quiet, funny way, "Mr. Morphy wins his games in Seventeen moves, and I in Seventy. But that is only natural." The eleventh partie Morphy scored, thus winning the match; having only lost two games and drawn two.
Immediately after each day's play, Herr Anderssen would walk straight to the Régence for the purpose of expediting reports of the same to his friends in Leipsic and Berlin. There were always crowds to meet him, and to assure him he could have won, and ought not to have lost; but the Professor smiled at them incredulously. I have heard him tell them, "Dites cela à M. Morphy," (Tell that to Mr. Morphy,) over and over again. One individual, who from the beginning, had questioned Morphy's superiority, – though he had been beaten by him in the proportion of 7 to 1 – told the Professor in the presence of a crowd of amateurs: "You are not playing any thing like as well as with Dufresne." – "No," replied Anderssen, "Morphy won't let me;" and he added, "It is no use struggling against him; he is like a piece of machinery which is sure to come to a certain conclusion." On another occasion he said: "Mr. Morphy always plays, not merely the best, but the very best move, and if we play the move only approximatively correct, we are sure to lose. Nobody can hope to gain more than a game, now and then, from him." And, in reply to a question of Monsieur de Rivière, he said in my hearing: "It is impossible to play chess better than Mr. Morphy; if there be any difference in strength between him and Labourdonnais, it is in his favor."
I have never seen a nobler-hearted gentleman than Herr Anderssen. He would sit at the board, examining the frightful positions into which Morphy had forced him, until his whole face was radiant with admiration of his antagonist's strategy, and, positively laughing outright, he would commence resetting the pieces for another game, without a remark. I never heard him make a single observation to Morphy complimentary of his skill; but, to others, he was loud in admiration of the young American.
After the match was over, the two antagonists played six off-hand games, all gambits, Anderssen winning one, and Morphy five. These also came off at the Hotel Breteuil, and were rattled away inside of three hours.
The gallery of spectators who witnessed this great contest between the champions of the Old World and the New, was select, if not numerous. There were present, almost constantly, Saint Amant, De Rivière, Journoud, Carlini, Préti, Grosboulogne, Lequesne, and one or two others, and amongst the occasional visitors were Counts Casabianca and Bastorot, M. Devinck, the Paris correspondent of the N. Y. Times, and any of our hero's countrymen who desired to be present. One night, after the day's battle was over, Morphy and I were sitting in our room, chatting together, when an immense stranger appeared and announced himself as follows: "I am Prince Galitzin; I wish to see Mr. Morphy." Morphy looked up from a fauteuil in which he was buried, and replied, "I am he." The Prince answered, "It is not possible! you're too young;" and then he seated himself by Morphy's side and told him, "I first heard of your wonderful deeds on the frontiers of Siberia. One of my suite had a copy of the chess paper published in Berlin, the Schachzeitung, and ever since that time I have been wanting to see you." And he told our hero that he must pay a visit to St. Petersburg; for the chess club in the Imperial Palace would receive him with enthusiasm. I did not hear Morphy promise to go, however.
But to return to Anderssen. The Professor came and went away in a hurry, his vacations only lasting two weeks. As he wished us good-bye, he said slyly to Morphy, "They won't be pleased with me at Berlin, but I shall tell them, 'Mr. Morphy will come here.'"
After the conclusion of the match, I pointed out to Herr Anderssen certain remarks on his play in the Illustrated London News, in which the writer observed, "This is not the play of the victor of the Tournament of '51." He replied – "Oh, we know Mr. Staunton; in 1851 his opinions of my play were not very high, and he lost not by my skill, but because he was ill. Mr. Staunton always has two meanings, one which he writes, and one which he keeps to himself."
