Paul Morphy: The Pride and Sorrow of Chess

by David Lawson

  To the Editor of the Illustrated London News.

  My attention has been called to a paragraph in an American paper, purporting to be a denial from Mr. Morphy of his having played chess with me. The fact of my having won a game of Mr. Morphy, upon even terms, is, I sincerely believe, attributable more to chance than to skill on my part; but I am pained and surprised that the publication of that game should have been met by a deplorable and reckless imputation which cannot but bring discredit upon its originators. Had Mr. Morphy or his friends simply required evidence to recall his playing with me to his mind I would gladly have given it, but I shrink from inquiring into the motive of an assertion as erroneous as it is heedless, and feel an equal repugnance to a discussion in the spirit of the paragraph I have referred to. A regard for truth, however, compels me to expose what I hardly know how to characterize.

  Believe me, Sir, faithfully yours,

  Fred Deacon

  3 Hales-Place, South Lambeth

  London, March 27, 1860

  10.

  Howard Staunton in the Illustrated London News—March 30, 1861

  (with a Letter from Charles Deacon)

  The Morphy–Deacon Controversy

  It will be in the recollection of our chess readers that towards the end of 1859 we printed two games played between Messrs. Morphy and Deacon, and that upon the arrival of our paper in America Mr. Morphy addressed a letter to one of his companions in New York declaring in the most emphatic terms that he had “never contested a single game with Deacon, on even terms or at odds.” Mr. Morphy was modestly pleased to add that had he played at all with Mr. Deacon he should have given him at least the odds of pawn and move, as Mr. Deacon was not accounted so strong a player as the amateur, “Alter,” to whom Mr. Morphy had successfully yielded that advantage.

  Directly upon the appearance of this disclaimer we were assailed on all sides from the “chess organs” of the United States with a torrent of the most disgusting and savage personalities, some even going so far in malevolence and absurdity as to accuse us of having fabricated the games for the purpose of damaging their champion’s reputation! It will be further remembered that Mr. Deacon, from whom we received the games, wrote to us a letter expressing his astonishment at the behavior of Mr. Morphy and his friends, and added that if those persons had simply asked for evidence as to when and where the games were played he should gladly have given it. A few weeks afterwards it appears that, in reply to a communication from some gentleman connected with the Philadelphia Evening Bulletin—a paper, it is right to say, which, throughout the controversy, has exhibited an impartiality and forebearance [ sic] in the highest degree commendable—Mr. Deacon stated in writing that the disputed games were played, on a certain day named, at the British Hotel in Cockspur-street, where Mr. Morphy then resided, in the presence of Colonel Charles Deacon. Among gentlemen this explanation would, of course, have been accepted as conclusive: how it was received by Mr. Morphy and his partisans let the Evening Bulletin relate:—

  Immediately upon the publication of this letter an assault was made upon the writer and all others in any way connected with it on the part of certain Chess papers in New York, aided by a paper then conducted in this city. This assault was marked throughout with a savage ferocity which ignored every rule of decorum and decency, and descended to depths of vituperation and abuse quite unprecedented in all the history of chess. We had our own theory of the purpose of all this, and therefore quietly held on our way, determined, if possible, to fathom the subject to the bottom, without fear or favor.

  The Chess Monthly published Mr. Deacon’s second letter, and promised a reply from Mr. Morphy in the next number, which reply, however never appeared. Meanwhile we were repeatedly called upon to furnish the proffered testimony of Col. Charles Deacon, and, recognizing the justice of such a demand, while repudiating the temper in which it was generally made, we pledged ourselves to procure it, or to admit that Mr. Deacon had failed to establish his case. Upon application for the testimony, however, we were not surprised to find that the style in which the controversy had been conducted on the part of Mr. Morphy’s leading advocates interposed an insuperable obstacle in our way. Few gentlemen in England or elsewhere would agree to be put upon the witness-stand in a case whose advocates had already lavished such vul-gar abuse upon them and their relatives and friends. We have at length overcome this most natural repugnance in some measure, and have just received the following letter from Lieutenant-Colonel Charles C. Deacon, C.B., which speaks for itself:—

  4, Edwards-square, Kensington, London, Jan. 14, 1861

  Dear Sirs,—

  In reply to your note of December 17, accept my sincere acknowledgements for your fair and manly defense of my cousin, which we warmly appreciate; but the controversy to which you refer has been conducted by a portion of the American press in a manner which really precludes my entering into it—indeed, in the whole course of my life I have never known anything so outrageous and dastardly as the manner in which we have been attacked. Under different circumstances, however, I should have been happy to have given you my testimony, which would have fully borne out the statement sent to you some time ago by Mr. Fred Deacon; and I must add, from the gentlemanly way in which you have put the case, I regret that, for the reason I have mentioned, I cannot give you a more complete answer.

  I am, dear Sirs,

  Yours truly

  Chas. Deacon

  To the

  Chess Editors of the Philadelphia Evening Bulletin.

  11.

  Morphy Announcement of Law Office

  12.

  Letter to J. E. Orchard from “D”

  Mr. J. E. Orchard, Columbia, S.C.

  New Orleans, December 5, 1875

  Dear Sir—Your letter asking for information as to the mental condition of Mr. Morphy is just at hand. I am sorry to say that the reports concerning him have some foundation in fact, but they have been grossly exaggerated in the newspapers. He is not in any sense a lunatic though his mind is affected somewhat. The statement that he is hopelessly insane is far from the truth, for we all have confidence that in time he will be all right again. The fact that his mind was not right was observed by his intimate friends some months ago when he was labouring under the delusion that unknown persons were circulating calumnies about him, and imagined that he was the victim of petty persecutions, the aim of which was to drive him from the country. This idea constantly haunted him and drove him at last to the point where he publicly accused several individuals with being concerned in persecuting him. The thing grew upon him until finally he challenged the supposed authors of the imaginary calumnies to mortal combat with deadly weapons. After this, of course, the whole matter was made public. This is all there was to it.

  On all other subjects his mind is apparently sound, and when in company with persons of his liking he converses as rationally as any one. He is not in a lunatic asylum, but walks the streets of our city without restraint and his behavior is as gentlemanly there as it is everywhere else.

  It is true that his relatives tried to prevail on him to enter an asylum for the insane, for treatment; and it is also true that he did visit such an institution with some friends, but as he positively objected to staying there and coolly expounded the law governing his case to the Nuns who conduct the institution and so clearly demonstrated that they had no right to deprive him of his liberty without going through certain legal formalities, which he detailed, that his mother intervened, and he was permitted to depart.

  On his return from Europe in 1868, and for a long time previous, he had abandoned chess, and rather disliked to converse about it, as he had been bored to death on the subject by indiscreet persons who acted on the supposition that he knew nothing but chess, and wanted to talk of nothing but chess. But notwithstanding the constant boring to which he was subjected, we never found him loath to chat about the game at the proper time and under proper circumstances.

  If he attended an opera and somebo
dy should be continually dinging chess into his ears, we presume he might show his dislike to talk on the subject and that is about all there is to it. The last games he ever played, so far as the writer knows, was with the well known chess player of this city, C. A. Maurian, Esq. to whom Morphy gave the odds of Knight (not Springer), in the latter part of December, 1866. The story about his being a drunkard is absurd, as he has never taken li-quor in his life. His habits and conduct are eminently refined and gentlemanly, and his bearing and ideas rather border on the aristocratic. We believe the foregoing covers the entire ground, and you may rely upon its being strictly true.

  Mr. D.

  (Published in the Hartford Times, December 1875.)

  13.

  Charles Maurian’s Letter to Captain Mackenzie

  106, Esplanade Street

  New Orleans, Dec. 8, 1875

  Captain George H. Mackenzie

  New York

  My dear Captain,

  I am extremely sorry to say that the report that Mr. Morphy’s mind has been somewhat deranged of late, is true. The facts, however, have been greatly exaggerated. He believes that he has many enemies who are attempting to drive him from New Orleans by a system of petty persecutions, etc. This idea has led him to behave on one or two occasions in an extravagant manner, but on all subjects not connected with his particular mania, his mind is apparently as sound as it can be. This leads his family and friends to hope that his case is not so hopeless as the Journals would have us believe. Should you think proper to publish these facts, I desire particularly that my name should not be mentioned in connection therewith, for my relations with the family are intimate, and although my present object is merely to correct these erroneous impressions created by the reports in the public prints, I am apprehensive that my motives will be wrongly interpreted. I assure you that this misfortune of Morphy’s is very painful to me.

  Very truly yours,

  Chas. A. Maurian

  (Taken from Life of Paul Morphy by Regina Morphy-Voitier.)

  14.

  Charles Maurian’s Letter to Jean Prèti

  January 15, 1876

  My dear Mr. Prèti:

  In a letter that I received from you some days ago, you beg me to inform you if it is true that certain rumours about Paul Morphy are true that he may not be right mentally.

  I am sorry to have to reply to you that these rumours are only too well founded. I must hasten to add, however, that some of the American papers have greatly exaggerated the facts, especially when they represent this case as absolutely beyond help. Mr. Morphy thinks himself the object of the animosity of certain persons who, he claims, are trying to injure him and render life intolerable to him by a regular system of calumnies and petty persecutions. There is no way of persuading him on this point, but on any other subject he is quite reasonable.

  The fixed idea which possesses him has led him on certain occasions to conduct himself in a somewhat extravagant manner. Thus, about two months ago he strove hard to provoke to a duel a gentleman whom he imagined to be one of his persecutors. Since then he seems more tranquil, and it has not been considered necessary to put him into an asylum, as some of the papers have said.

  All his friends hope that in time, with care and above all with a change in his mode of life, he will completely recover.

  As for the causes which have produced in Mr. Morphy this derangement of his faculties, it is difficult to assign them, and I do not know what the doctors think. I have reason to believe, however, that in their opinion chess has nothing to do with it; for one of them, I am told, has recommended chess as a means of distraction and a change of thoughts. You know, too, that for ten or twelve years Mr. Morphy has completely abandoned chess, and that he never indulged in the game to excess.

  For my part, without wishing to hazard an opinion on a question which is beyond me, I cannot help thinking that the sedentary life, devoid of distractions and amusements, which Mr. Morphy has led for some years, must have had a bad influence on his whole system.

  Agreez etc.

  Ch. A. Maurian

  (Translation from La Stratègie, February 15, 1876, pages 33-34.)

  15.

  Dr. L. P. Meredith’s Letter in the Cincinnati Commercial

  New Orleans April 16, 1879.

  TO THE CHESS EDITOR OF THE COMMERCIAL:

  During my brief visit to the South, after seeing the sights of the Crescent City I was seized by a desire to inform myself in regard to its chess affairs—to see or meet Morphy, or learn full particulars about him. Having satisfied my curiosity in these respects, I have thought that the relation of what I have learned may be interesting to others and sufficiently respond to your suggestions in reference to a letter about chess.

  My anxiety to learn all I could about Paul Morphy led me to examine the Directory and wander to the place designated as his residence, No. 89 Royal Street, a plain house of the old style, with a broad double door, without step or vestibule, opening right to the sidewalk. The establishment of a jeweler takes up all of the lower front except the entrance-door. I made some preliminary inquiries of a neighbor, who told me that Mr. Morphy was at home, in good health and able to see people; he had been afflicted mentally, but was better; he walked out a good deal. In answer to a ring at the bell, a negro female appeared, who told me about the same things, and added that he was in, and that I could see him. She went away to announce me, leaving me to observe the broad hall with cemented floor and walls, and look through the archway at the end into a flowering court beyond. The colored damsel returned saying that she was mistaken; that Mr. Morphy had gone out with his mother, but that I could see him at another time. I have since came to regard it as a very fortunate circumstance that I failed to see him while misunderstanding the true state of affairs.

  I learn from undeniable authority that he utterly repudiates chess; that when addressed on the subject he either flies into a passion or denies that he knows or ever did know anything of the game. Occasionally, I hear, he admits that he used to play chess some, but not enough to justify persons in attaching notoriety to him. He professes to be a lawyer of prominence, and, although he has no office, no clients, and spends hours promenading Canal St. daily, he imagines himself so pressed with business that he can not release himself for the briefest time. The great case that absorbs nearly all of his attention is an imaginary one against parties who had charge of an estate left by his father. He demands a detailed, explicit account of everything connected with their administration for a number of years, and they pay no attention to his demand and repeated suits, because it is supposed, of the trouble, and because everybody else interested is satisfied and knows that there is nothing coming to him, he already having expended more than his expectancy.

  At certain hours every day Paul Morphy is as sure to be walking on Canal Street, as Canal Street is sure to be there to walk on. People shun him for the reason that the least encouragement will result in being compelled to listen for hours to the same old story that everybody knows by heart—that relating to his father’s estate. He talks of nothing else, and apparently thinks of nothing else.

  His personal appearance is not at all striking, and were it not for his singularity of manner he would rarely be noticed in a thorough-fare. He is of less than medium height and thin in body; his face is yellow and careworn, showing every day of his forty-two years of age, and destitute of beard except an effort at a moustache on a thick upper lip; his eyes are dark gray, large and intelligent. He is always, while on the street, either moving his lips in soliloquy, removing and replacing his eye-glasses, or smiling or bowing in response to imaginary salutations. His scrupulously neat dress renders him a much more agreeable object of curiosity than he would be if he were negligent in his attire.

  Physicians regard him as a very peculiar case, amenable to treatment, possibly, if placed under their care; but no opportunity is afforded, as he regards himself as sane as any man, is harmless to society, and is well cared for by willing re
latives. Medical experts who have made mental phenomena a study, also say that his chess strength is probably not at all impaired, possibly increased from long rest, and that if he were so inclined he could astonish the world with his wonderful powers more than ever. Judging, however, from his long retirement from the chess arena, and from his persistent devotion to his insane idea, it is only a reasonable inference that Paul Morphy is forever lost to the chess world, and that he will continue to keep buried those talents that would benefit the world and gain honor for himself, together with the wealth he wants and needs, and which he is striving for so energetically in a way that is visionary and hopeless.

  On the street in New Orleans, last month, I frequently saw Mr. Morphy but I was longer in his presence, and had a better opportunity of studying him at the old Spanish Cathedral on Easter Sunday than elsewhere. He paid devout attention to the services, and appeared thoroughly familiar with all of the ceremonies, always assuming the kneeling posture, and moving his head and lips responsively at the right time, without apparently taking the cue from any of the worshiping throng. At one time an untidy person brushed against his back, and he seemed stressed for some moments with the idea that his coat had been soiled, endeavoring to brush it with his handkerchief. I caught an inquiring look from his eye, and my glance must have satisfied him that his coat presented a proper appearance, as he immediately composed himself and resumed his attentive air, even spreading his handkerchief in the aisle and kneeling upon it.