Paul Morphy: The Pride and Sorrow of Chess

by David Lawson

  Probably because of his Spanish birth and the position of his father at Malaga, Don Diego became acquainted with, if he or his father had not already known, Don Joseph de Jaudenes, first Spanish minister to the United States, who appointed Don Diego Spanish consul to the states of North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia on January 31, 1795. He then took up residence at Charleston, South Carolina.

  Don Diego had two more children, daughters, by Mollie Creagh, before she died in 1796. The following year Diego married Louisa Peire, and two sons and three daughters were born to them in Charleston. The elder son, christened Alonzo Michael, Paul Morphy’s father, was born November 23, 1798, and the younger, Ernest, November 22, 1807.

  In 1809 Don Diego moved to New Orleans, upon being appointed Spanish consul for that port, and served in that post until his death, which occurred soon after his Will and Testament was filed on August 27, 1813. He was survived by his mother, Doña Maria Porro, his wife, Doña Louisa Peire, and all eight children by his two marriages.

  Upon the death of Diego, Sr., Diego, Jr., who had served as vice consul under his father, was appointed Spanish consul for the Port of New Orleans, a post he held until 1818, when he was appointed vice consul to Natchez, Mississippi. He soon resigned and, being of an intellectual temperament, returned to New Orleans, where he devoted himself to teaching and the writing of books on the French and Spanish languages. Now the Morphys had broken their ties to the Old World. Years later Paul Morphy was to pay a fleeting visit to Spain, the land of his grandfather’s birth.

  CHAPTER 2

  Three Encounters and a Problem

  Alonzo Morphy, who was eleven years of age when the family moved to New Orleans, decided early to become a lawyer, and in due course entered the Collège d’Orléans for that purpose. Upon graduation, he presented himself before the Louisiana State Supreme Court for examination, and on January 7, 1819, he was granted the Louisiana Supreme Court Judges’ Certificate, which stated that he was found, “after due and strict examination in open court . . . well and sufficiently qualified to practice as an Attorney and Counsellor at Law in the courts of this State.”

  The following month, according to the certificate granted him by the Louisiana District Court of the United States, “Alonzo Morphy, Esquire, was duly admitted to practice as Attorney and Counsellor Proctor and Advocate . . . and . . . thereupon he took the oath required by Law.” He now established himself in practice at 61 Toulouse Street, New Orleans. A few years later he was elected to the state legislature and served in the House of Representatives from 1825 to 1829.

  Apparently believing Alonzo Morphy well-qualified, Governor Derbigny appointed him Attorney General for Louisiana on January 20, 1829. Exactly one month later, on February 20, 1829, a marriage contract was drawn up and signed between

  Mr. Alonzo Michael Morphy, of legal age living in this city, born at Charleston, S.C., legitimate son of the late Mr. Diego Morphy and the late Lady Peire, on the one part. And the Damsel Louise Thérèse Felicitie Thelcide Le Carpentier, of legal age living in this city where she was born, legitimate daughter of Mr. Joseph Essau Le Carpentier and Lady Modest Blache, on the second part.

  The next day, one bann having been published and the other two dispensed with, the pair were married in St. Louis Cathedral, the Reverend Abbé Moni performing the ceremony.

  Alonzo now occupied the house at 1113 Chartres Street, known today as the Beauregard House because in later years it was the home of Confederate General Pierre G. T. Beauregard. Morphy soon became quite active in social, financial, and community affairs. Among other activities, he became regent of the New Orleans Public Schools, administrator of the Charity Hospital, and director of the Bank of Louisiana. On August 31, 1839, Governor A. B. Roman appointed him state supreme court justice, a post he filled into 1846. His brother Ernest Morphy, nine years his junior, became appraiser at the New Orleans Custom House.

  The Morphy family remained at Chartres Street until 1841, when Alonzo bought the house at 89 (now 417) Royal Street. During extensive alterations, which took several months, the family lived in one of the Pon-talba buildings on St. Peter Street. The Royal Street house already had a long history in 1841. William C. C. Claiborne, Louisiana’s first governor, had established the Banque de la Louisiane there, soon after statehood was granted in 1813, and Andrew Jackson had often been entertained in the rooms above the bank, especially during his candidacy for the Presidency.* It remained the Morphy home until 1886, when Helena, Paul’s youngest sister and last of the immediate family, died.

  The house at 1113 Chartres Street, however, was the birthplace of all of Alonzo’s children. Edward, the elder son, was born December 26, 1834, while Paul was born on June 22, 1837. Paul’s sisters, Malvina and Helena, were born, respectively, on February 5, 1830, and October 21, 1839.

  Alonzo Morphy had now become a distinguished jurist, while Paul’s mother, Thelcide, more often known as Telcide, had acquired some distinction as a musician and composer. An accomplished pianist and harpist, she also had a fine mezzo-soprano voice and often entertained with musicales, frequently bringing in outside talent. On such occasions she might have introduced one of her own compositions, perhaps a trio for piano, violin, and cello, a number of which were published.

  The game of chess was one of the Morphy family’s chief recreations, a diversion often enjoyed on a quiet evening. It seems they all played. Of Alonzo’s and Ernest’s games we know a good deal, since Paul played many games with both, a few of which have come down to us. But Paul also played many games with his Grandfather Joseph Le Carpentier and his Uncle Charles Le Carpentier. His brother, Edward, gave promise of being a very strong player but, nettled by Paul’s beating him badly, he gave the game up, saying he would never play again. Only years later did he engage in an occasional game, Paul giving him Knight odds. In this family setting, Paul grew up with a great fondness for music and an aptitude for chess.

  Years later, Regina Morphy, daughter of brother Edward, reminiscned about the evenings of music, conversation, and chess in her forty-page booklet, Life of Paul Morphy in the Vieux Carré of New Orleans and Abroad, which she published in 1926. Regina also had a talent for music and composed many waltzes, her first composition being, “The Paul Morphy Waltz,” published in 1893.

  In her booklet Regina recounts how

  the Morphy home at 89, Royal Street was at all times, the centre of gayety and pleasure. Almost every week, Mrs. Morphy entertained large house parties, and her weekly “musicales” were highly artistic and enjoyable. Although Paul was not a musician in the true sense of the word, he was noted for his splendid ear for music, and once he heard a tune, he never forgot it and he thoroughly enjoyed these evenings devoted to classic music and brilliant conversation . . . He was exceedingly fond of grand opera and very seldom missed a performance at the old French Opera House on Bourbon Street. . . . During intermissions he would call upon some of his lady friends who occupied boxes and invite them to a promenade in the “foyer” where refreshments were served.

  Toward the end of her better years, Mrs. Morphy started a more ambitious work, the score for a five-act opera, Louise de Lorraine. The libretto was written by L. Placide Canonge, one-time impresario of the Théâtre de l’Opéra. But Thelcide got no further than the first four acts, her spirit burdened with increasing concern for Paul in his last years.

  Little is known of Paul’s earliest experiences with chess. Undoubtedly, like Capablanca, about whom a similar story is told, Paul first learned about chess by watching his relatives play. In Paul’s case, the relatives were his father and Uncle Ernest. In fact, Ernest Morphy, writing in 1849 to Kieseritzky, editor of La Régence, said that Paul first learned the game that way, this contrary to the usual story that he was formally taught the moves of the game by his father when he was ten years of age.

  Charles A. Maurian, who was almost the same age as Paul and who became Paul’s life-long and closest friend, said in an interview years later in the New Orleans Picayu
ne of January 17, 1909, that “it was a well known fact that Paul was a chess genius when he was barely nine years old.”

  The following is the earliest known incident about Paul as related by Maurian in the same Picayune article:

  On a balmy summer afternoon Judge Morphy and his brother Ernest were seated on the back porch, which overlooked the long yard, playing chess. The game had been a particularly interesting one, and lasted several hours, with the result that both armies were sadly reduced, though apparently still of equal strength. The Judge’s King seemed in an impregnable position, and Mr. Morphy, after vainly checking and checking, wiped his perspiring brow and remarked that the game was a certain draw. Judge Morphy smilingly agreed with him and the pieces were swept aside to be reset for another trial. Now, little Paul, hardly out of skirts, had been an interested spectator to the closing stages of the drawn battle, and while the men were being replaced he astonished his elders by saying: “Uncle, you should have won that game.”

  Judge Morphy and Ernest Morphy looked at the boy and the former asked, “What do you know about it, Paul?” Paul, with the assurance of a born genius, asked leave to set the pieces in the final position, and, just to humor him, his father consented. The boy faithfully and accurately arranged the men; and, then studying the board for only a moment, leaned forward and said: “Here it is: check with the Rook, now the King has to take it, and the rest is easy.” And sure enough it was. The child had seen a mate in an apparently impossible position, and the Judge and his brother simply stared at him, hardly able to express themselves in words.

  While it is not known just when the above incident took place, obviously it happened before Paul was ten years old. In her booklet, Regina Morphy says, “He was about ten when he won games from the older and more proficient players.” But it is Paul Morphy himself who has given us the first definite date of his interest in the game and possibly the beginning of his serious play. While in New York attending the National Chess Congress of 1857, he told Charles H. Stanley, one of the participants, that he was taken to the Stanley–Rousseau chess match that was played in New Orleans in 1845. His Uncle Ernest had acted as Rousseau’s second, and probably Paul had asked to be taken along.

  It is likely that he had been watching his father playing even before he was six years old, for at eight and ten years of age he was engaging General Winfield Scott and Dr. Camille Rizzo successfully, as we shall see. Also, General Tillson has said that Paul composed his only chess problem when he was nine. (More about that later.) In a game with Dr. Rizzo, he foresaw a mate in four moves against him, which his opponent overlooked. This indicates that at age ten Paul knew a good deal more than just the “moves.”

  A biographical sketch of Morphy in the 1857 book The First American Chess Congress states that

  one peculiarity of Paul’s play during the infantile stage of his Chess life [obviously before meeting General Scott and Dr.Rizzo] while his father, his grandfather, his uncle and his brother were his chief adversaries, used to create considerable merriment among the fireside circle of chess lovers with whom he was brought into contact. His pawns seemed to him to be only so many obstacles in his path, and his first work upon commencing a game was to exchange or sacrifice them all, giving free range to his pieces, after which, with his unimpeded Queen, Rooks, Bishops and Knights he began a fierce onslaught upon his opponent’s forces, which was often valorously maintained until it resulted in mate.

  Obviously, Paul soon saw the great advantage of rapid development of his pieces and soon learned the importance of Pawns against strong opponents, and rumors of his prowess became bruited about. When Winfield Scott was in New Orleans for five days in December 1846, on his way to Mexico to take command of the American Army, it was arranged that Paul should play him. General Scott had some reputation as an amateur. Also, he had played often with H. R. Agnel, author of Chess for Winter Evenings, and Col. J. Monroe, author of The Science and Art of Chess, who dedicated his book “To Lieutenant General Winfield Scott, himself skilled in the play of chess.” The following account of the Scott–Morphy meeting appeared in a May 1904 issue of the Evening Post:

  The first game of chess played by Paul Morphy, under anything like public circumstances was with General Winfield Scott. . . . In those days [1846] a number of the leading citizens of New Orleans had a club on Royal Street just over the famous Sazerac Coffee House, and among the members of the coterie were Paul Morphy’s father, Chief Justice Eustis of the State Supreme Court . . . and others who are not important to this story.

  General Winfield Scott had many acquaintances there, some of them quite intimate, and knowing the habits of the members he repaired to their very comfortable rooms within a few hours after reaching the city. One of Scott’s passions was for chess. It may be said to have been one of his vanities as well. He was in the front rank of amateurs in his day. After renewing old friendships and talking a little about the war, he turned to Chief Justice Eustis and asked whether he could have a game of chess in the evening, explaining that he had been deprived of his favorite amusement for a year or two and was naturally keen to resume it. “I want to be put upon my mettle.” . . . ”Very well,” said Justice Eustis, “We can arrange it. At eight o’clock tonight, if that will suit you.”

  At eight o’clock, dinner having been disposed of, the room was full. Gen. Scott, a towering giant, was asked to meet his competitor, a small boy of about ten years of age [eight and a half] and not by any means a prepossessing boy, dressed in velvet knickerbockers, with a lace shirt and a big spreading collar of the same material. . . .

  At first Gen. Scott imagined it was a sorry jest, and his tremendous dignity arose in protest. It seemed to him that his old friends had committed an incredible and unpardonable impertinence. Then Justice Eustis assured him that his wish ha[d] been scrupulously consulted; that this boy was quite worthy of his notice. So the game began with Gen. Scott still angry and by no means satisfied. Paul won the move and advanced the Queen’s rook’s pawn [oddly, years later when Morphy met Anderssen in 1858, Anderssen played this same move against him three times during their match]. In response to the General’s play he advanced the other pawn. Next he had two knights in the field; then another pawn opened the line for the Queen, and at the tenth move he had the General checkmated before he had even begun to develop his defense. There was only one more game. Paul Morphy, after the sixth move, marked the spot and announced the movement for the debacle—which occurred according to schedule—and the General arose trembling with amazement and indignation. Paul was taken home, silent as usual, and the incident reached the end.

  The few survivors of that era still talk of Paul Morphy’s first appearance in public, but only by hearsay. Gen. Scott lived to wonder that he should have ever played with the first chess genius of the century, or for that matter, of any other century.

  Thereafter, Paul was sometimes taken to the Sazerac Coffee House and to the Exchange Reading Rooms on Exchange Place, where the chess players of New Orleans often gathered. That more was not heard of the Scott incident at the time was doubtless due to consideration for the general and the above account did not appear until some fifty years had passed. The case was likely the same with Paul’s first meeting with Lowenthal in 1850 (to be discussed later), for the real story of that encounter did not come out until some six years later.

  The following story in the New Orleans Picayune of January 17, 1909, tells of Paul’s early games with his maternal grandfather:

  The Judge’s father-in-law [Joseph Le Carpentier] heard of the skill of his grandson, and insisted upon playing him and Paul was taken to the gentleman’s house. The two played, and grandfather, who lacked the skill of his sons, never had a chance with Paul. Finally the old man accepted odds, first of a pawn, then of a Bishop, and finally of a Rook, and still he was no match for Paul. The sight of Paul and grandfather playing the royal game is one that is indelibly stamped on the mind of Mr. Maurian. It was a funny sight, as he described it, to see little P
aul sitting on books piled upon his chair so that he could reach the table, with the worried old gentleman opposite him, and the chessmen spread out between the two. Mr. Maurian was only a small boy at the time, but he can recall that picture today as he saw it sixty years ago.

  It is not on record that the grandfather ever won a single game from little Paul, but that was no disgrace, as few indeed could make headway against the juvenile prodigy. The Morphys, like most of the leading French and Spanish families of affluence in their day, had family reunions every Sunday. One Sunday they would gather at the Judge’s house for dinner . . . the following week would find them at the grandfather’s house, and so on in a continuous round. The gatherings were always the occasions of chess parties, and, as some think, little Paul took his first impressions of the game at these occasions.

  About this time, Paul expressed himself in another direction in chess, as related by Ernest Morphy and General John Tillson. (Tillson and Ernest Morphy both lived for some years during the 1850s in Quincy, Illinois, and they were co-editors of the chess column of the Quincy Whig in 1859.) In a letter to Gustave Reichhelm, chess editor of the Philadelphia Sunday Times, General Tillson discusses a chess problem “that . . . was composed by Paul Morphy before he was ten years of age. This is a fact,” which may account for its being a little problem.

  This little chess problem, said to have been composed by Paul, is given by Philip W. Sergeant in his Morphy’s Games of Chess; but Sergeant labels it “Morphy’s Alleged Problem,” noting that Alain C. White cast doubt upon its being authentic.

  Apparently, Morphy did not tell everything to his close friend Charles Maurian, for after Morphy’s death, Maurian, then chess editor of the New Orleans Times-Democrat, had the following to say in its issue of October 12, 1884, giving the problem as follows:

  In answer to various inquiries addressed to us as to its authenticity, we can only say that while we have no proofs positive in the matter, and never had any direct contraction of it from Mr.Morphy, we have good reason to believe that he never composed it. Had he done so, we feel fully assured we would long since have known the fact.