An Attempt to Analyse the Automaton Chess Player of Mr. De Kempelen / To Which is Added, a Copious Collection of the Knight's Moves over the Chess Board

by Robert Willis

The machinery is so thinly scattered over this cupboard, that the eye surveys the whole space at one glance, and it might seem unnecessary to open a door at the back, and to hold a lighted candle there, as in the former instance; but the artifice is dictated by sound policy, which teaches that the exhibiter cannot be too assiduous in affording facilities to explore every corner and recess, which, he well knows, contain nothing that he is desirous of concealing.

The chest may now be wheeled round for the purpose of shewing the trunk of the figure; leaving, however, the front doors of the great chamber open. The bunch of keys, too, should be suffered to remain in the door (d); for the apparent carelessness of such a proceeding will serve to allay any suspicion, which the circumstance of locking the door (b) might have excited, more especially as the two doors resemble one another in point of construction.

When the drapery has been lifted up, and the doors in the trunk and thigh opened, the chest may be returned to its former situation, and the doors be closed. In the mean-time the player should withdraw his legs from behind the drawer, as he will not so easily effect this movement after the drawer has been pushed in.

Here let us pause awhile, and compare the real state of the chest at this time, with the impression which, at a similar period of an exhibition of the Chess Player, has generally been left on the minds of the spectators; the bulk of whom have concluded that each part of the chest had been successively exposed; and that the whole was at that time open to inspection: whereas, on the contrary, it is evident that some parts had been entirely withheld from view, others but obscurely shewn, and that nearly half of the chest was then excluded from their sight. Hence we learn how easily, in matters of this sort, the judgment may be led astray by an artful combination of circumstances, each assisting the other towards the attainment of one object.

When the doors in front have been closed, the exhibiter may occupy as much time, as he finds necessary, in apparently adjusting the machinery at the back, whilst the player is taking the position described in figs. 7 and 8. In this position he will find no difficulty in executing every movement required of the Automaton: his head being above the table, he will see the chess board through the waistcoat, as easily as through a veil; and his left hand extending beyond the elbow of the figure, he will be enabled to guide its hand to any part of the board, and to take up and let go a chess man with no other “delicate mechanism” than a string communicating with the fingers. His right hand being within the chest, may serve to keep in motion the contrivance for producing the noise, which is heard during the moves, and to perform the other tricks of moving the head, tapping on the chest, &c.

In order to facilitate the introduction of the player’s left arm into the arm of the figure, the elbow of the latter is obliged to be drawn backwards; and to account for, and conceal, this strained attitude, a pipe is ingeniously placed in the Automaton’s hand. This pipe must not be removed till the other arrangements are completed.

When all is ready, and the pipe removed, the exhibiter may turn round the winder, or key, to give the impression to the spectators of winding up a spring, or weight, and to serve as a signal to the player to set the head of the Automaton in motion.

The above process is simple, feasible, and effective; shewing indisputably that the phenomena may be produced without the aid of machinery, and thereby rendering it probable that the Chess Player belongs in reality to the third class of Automata, and derives its merit solely from the very ingenious mode by which the concealment of a living agent is effected.

In conducting this analysis, the author disclaims even the slightest wish or intention to depreciate, or detract from, the real merits of Mr. De Kempelen: those merits have long since received the stamp of public approbation; indeed, a more than ordinary share of skill and ingenuity must have fallen to his lot, who could imagine and execute a machine (it matters not by what means the phenomena are brought about) which has never failed to delight the spectators, by exciting and maintaining, above all other contrivances of the kind, that pleasing delusion in the mind, which the Roman poet has so happily denominated “Mentis gratissimus error.”

December, 1820.