THE MATCH BETWEEN MORPHY AND HARRWITZ.
Saturday came, and so did Harrwitz. We found him a little man, of about forty, with finely-developed head, and large, piercing black eyes. In conversation, he is exceedingly witty and "cool," and many are the good things told of him. Some of my readers will remember the rebuke he gave Mr. Staunton, when playing his celebrated match with that gentleman. Harrwitz had made a move which caused much reflection to his opponent, who rolled about on his chair and stroked his forehead energetically, as only Mr. Staunton can do, giving spectators the impression that his brain was in an agony of labor. He examined the position, and re-examined it; but, the more he looked, the less he liked it. Savage at being balked, he exclaimed—"Well, I've lost a move," and thereupon played a piece. Harrwitz coolly rises from his seat, rings the bell frantically, and gives the following order: "Waiter, look about for a move; Mr. Staunton has lost one."
| HERR ANDERSSEN. | M. SAINT AMANT. | HERR HARRWITZ. |
There is probably no man living who plays so much chess as Herr Harrwitz. All great chess players I know of, are great lie-a'beds, and he is no exception to the rule. His night-gear and he part company many hours after sunrise, and he starts forthwith for the Café de la Régence, where he plays, with only a slight intermission for dinner, until he goes home to bed again. His opponents are generally visitors to the café, not the habitués; for these last have taken great dislike to his very offensive manner, and will not contend with him. They say, too, that he evinces an improper desire to win, and, in consequence, will only give the odds of pawn and move, when he could well afford pawn and two, and the knight instead of the rook. In my character of historian, I am bound to state that the feeling was very intense at the Régence in favor of Morphy, and many the prayers (French prayers) that Harrwitz might succumb to him.
The two celebrities shook hands together, and Morphy immediately asked if he would consent to play a match. The fact is, the young Paul meant mischief. Everybody in England was loud in praise of Harrwitz's skill, and prophesied a tough encounter. There was reason in this; for the Prussian player has given himself up, body and soul, to the game. Staunton's literary avocations now permit him but an hour or two weekly for chess, although formerly he lived in the London Divan, as Harrwitz in the Régence, and was so rabid about Caïssa, that he actually wore shirts with kings, rooks, pawns, etc., printed over the bosoms and tails. Saint Amant was never a professional chess player, merely regarding it as a pastime. Löwenthal's duties as chess editor and analyst, prevent his giving much time to play, and, although he devotes a certain period weekly to the contests at the London, St. George's, and St. James's Clubs, he seldom contends for any stake. Anderssen is absorbed in mathematics at the Breslau Gymnasium; Heyderbrandt's diplomatic career engages nearly his entire attention; Buckle has forgotten his former love; Boden, Bird, Medley, Walker, Mongredieu, Slous, Kipping, De Rivière, Laroche, are engaged in mercantile pursuits; Lowe is getting rich with his hotel; Hörwitz is painting; Kling is a professor of music; and so on with nearly all European players. Harrwitz is the only man I know of who seems to live for chess, and we can, therefore, easily understand why Morphy was so desirous of playing him.
To our hero's question, Harrwitz gave a reply so non-committal, that Morphy said, aside, to me, "He won't play a match." A crowd had collected around us, and the Prussian, thinking it an admirable opportunity for display, asked Morphy whether he had any objection to an off-hand game. Of course he had not. Harrwitz had the move, and played an Allgaier Gambit, which, after a hard fight, he won. Morphy was somewhat excited, made a mistake in the opening, by which he lost three pawns for nothing at all, and yet fought the battle with such determination, that the number of moves was not far short of a hundred. His antagonist was delighted with his victory, thought he was sure of Morphy, and engaged to settle the preliminaries of a match on the following day.
The next morning Harrwitz arrived at his usual hour—noon. He informed Morphy that his friends were desirous of backing him, but that the stakes were not made up yet. Morphy replied that that would be no objection, as he would accept any bets that might be offered during the match, and they could therefore begin at once. But another difficulty stood in the way. Morphy, in pursuance of a settled plan, had chosen his seconds from the enemy's camp, and had requested De Rivière and Journoud to act as his friends in this contest. Harrwitz chose to regard these gentlemen with feelings of enmity, and stated that, "if there were any seconds, there would be no match." Morphy was thus placed in a very equivocal position. Without being aware of any dispute existing between his future antagonist and the gentlemen in question, he had chosen them as his representatives: how could he now ask them to back out, because Mr. Harrwitz demanded it? However, on my representing the case to them, Messrs. De Rivière and Journoud resigned their office in the most kindly and willing manner, so desirous were they of seeing the match come off.
Shortly afterwards Monsieur Lequesne arrived. This gentleman, the pupil and worthy successor of Pradier, is now the first of living French sculptors, and the peer of Marochetti, Crawford, and Gibson. He is also a strong chess player, and the most active man in France for arranging matches, tournaments, &c. He immediately adjourned with Harrwitz, Morphy, and myself to a private room, to settle preliminaries, and, if I recollect rightly, Dr. Grosboulogne was of the party. Harrwitz expressed his dislike to any thing like ceremony, and objected to their being seconds or umpires in the affair; sorry were Morphy, Lequesne, and H.'s own backers, afterwards, that he carried the day on that point. The only arrangements made were, that Morphy was to accept all bets offered, that the winner of the first seven games should be esteemed the victor, and that the play should take place on four days in the week; and, finally, at Harrwitz's express stipulation, the match was to be played in the public café.
All this being agreed upon, the two champions came forth, and went at it. On drawing for the move, Harrwitz was again successful, and played, as he always does in matches, pawn to queen's fourth. This opening, and Philidor in defence, as second player, you could no more drive him away from, than you could induce Great Britain to give up Gibraltar. Pawn to queen's fourth served Harrwitz's turn once, and so did Philidor in defence, but only once, and I do not think it would then, if Morphy had been in good condition.
The night before the commencement of the match, Morphy had been sight-seeing until a very late hour; and we only got into bed between two and three o'clock in the morning. He laughed at me for reminding him of his approaching contest, and the necessity for mens sana in corpore sano, which I said would be seriously interfered with by his not taking sufficient rest. The next day his appearance verified my prognostics, and he failed to show that impassibility which ordinarily characterizes him. He says, however, that Harrwitz beat him because he (H.) played the best moves; and he would not admit to me that want of rest at all interfered with his own play.
Throughout the first game, Harrwitz displayed the most rollicking contempt for his antagonist, and, at the conclusion, when Morphy resigned, he rose from his seat, stretched across the table, and taking the latter by the hand, he felt his pulse and declared to the crowd—"Well, it is astonishing! His pulse does not beat any faster than if he had won the game." Everybody was disgusted at such a contemptuous proceeding, but Morphy took it all as quietly as though it were a part of the match.
Our hero passed that evening with some friends. Towards eleven o'clock I said to him, "Now, Morphy, you really must not have a second edition of last night; let us get home in good time;" but he replied, "Oh, don't be frightened, I've got the move to-morrow;" and, in spite of all I could say or do, we did not get to bed until nearly four o'clock. Well, what was the consequence? After getting a magnificent position in the second game of the match, bodily fatigue came upon him, and Harrwitz was again victor. The Prussian came out in greater glory than ever, rolling about in his seat, talking loudly to persons about the board, and smiling sardonically at his opponent, as much as to say, "Oh, it takes very little trouble to beat this fellow." Many leading players in the café, especially De Rivière and Journoud, were very savage at such conduct, but I told them—"Mark my words, Mr. Harrwitz will be quiet as a lamb before the end of next week."
The result of the play with Harrwitz had shaken the faith of the French players in Morphy. But as we left the café, he said laughingly to me, "How astonished all these men will be if Harrwitz does not get another game." And he did not. At dinner, I reasoned the matter with him, saying that the first requisite for any man engaged in a chess match, was rest for the brain; and that he ought, by this time, to be convinced of the absolute necessity of keeping early hours. And I wound up by exacting a promise from him that he would never be out of bed after midnight, during the match.
In the evening we went to the Opera Comique, and witnessed a very unsatisfactory performance of "La Part du Diable." Morphy has a great love for music, and his memory for any air he has once heard is astonishing. Mrs. Morphy is renowned in the salons of New Orleans as a brilliant pianist and musician, and her son, without ever having studied music, has a similar aptitude for it, and it is believed that he would have become as famous therein as in chess, had he given his attention to it. "La Part du Diable" was a new opera, and Morphy, after leaving the theatre, hummed over many of the airs to me, which he had just heard for the first time, with astonishing precision.
The next day we took a long drive among the "lions," and, in the evening, dined at the residence of that chess veteran and friend of Deschappelles and Labourdonnais, Monsieur Doazan. Harrwitz was of the company, and, for the nonce, acted Jupiter Triumphans in superb style. I felt indignant at such conduct towards a man so inoffensive and modest as Mr. Morphy, and I observed: "I am sorry, Mr. Harrwitz, you have not yet found Mr. Morphy in good fighting trim. The fact is, he has been preparing to meet you by not going to bed until common men are about to rise, but he has promised to retire early in future, and you will then find in him a very different antagonist." It was merely a hint, but the gentle Harrwitz did not like it. The following morning, Morphy said to me at breakfast, "If I beat Harrwitz to-day, you will say it is because I went to bed at eleven o'clock;" to which I replied, "Perhaps; but I do say that you lost the first two games because you went to bed at four."
The third and fourth games Morphy scored in beautiful style. The latter, Staunton declared, "would have excited the admiration of Labourdonnais," and the effect upon Harrwitz was interesting. During its progress, his conduct was quite gentlemanly, with the exception of a violent shaking consequent upon nervous excitement. There was cause for this. On the other side of the board sat Morphy, looking, in his peculiar way, like a block of impassible, living marble, the very embodiment of penetration and decision. No hesitancy or excitement there, but all cool, calm action, knowing where it must end; and, as he rose from his seat, everybody congratulated him on the score now standing two to two, and assured him they were confident what would be the result. We laughed heartily at these men who, but a few days previous, had looked woefully chopfallen, fearing that Harrwitz was too strong for Morphy.
The fifth game was played on the following Monday, and the Prussian lost it, although he had the move. Harrwitz felt uncomfortable, plainly feeling that his present antagonist was, as he expressed himself to a friend, "very much stronger than any he had ever met." We now had several days' intermission from play, the plea being "ill health;" and, finally, Morphy received a letter from his opponent, asking for a respite of a week or ten days, to which a reply was returned granting the request, on condition that, when the match was resumed, a game should be played daily, Sundays alone excepted. At the termination of ten days, Harrwitz lost the sixth game, so that the score now stood—Morphy, four; Harrwitz, two; drawn, none. And the latter, in spite of the agreement, was again absent from the battle-field for some days.