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The "Pawn and Two" Letter in the London Field
--November 13, 1858 Mr. Staunton and Mr. Morphy
Sir, -- I am desirous, with your permission of saying a
few words upon the relative position now occupied by Messrs, Staunton and
Morphy, whose proposed encounter has been brought to such an unfortunate,
though not unforeseen, termination. Now I am well acquainted with Mr.
Staunton. I have been concerned on his behalf in the arrangement of one of
his (proposed) matches, with a player who has never ceased to vituperate
that period when I endeavored so strenuously to bring them together. I have
fought Mr. Staunton's battles for him by pen and by word of mouth on sundry
occasions. I wish, indeed, I could do so now; for, as a chess player, and as
a laborer n the field of chess literature, I place him on the very highest
pinnacle. Since the time of M'Donnell, I believe that no player in this
country - not to say Europe -has ever reached so high a standard as was
attained by out English champion when he did battle with St. Amant. Since
that time he has been the rather concerned with editorial duties, and in
intimating t real or imaginary correspondents in the Chess Players'
Chronicle (now defunct) and in the Illustrated London News, (full of
vitality,) what he could do on the chequered field, if those who dreamed of
approaching him could but muster sufficient money to meet his terms, or what
other and peculiar restrictions (owing to delicate health and "nervous
irritability") he should impose upon any adversary with whom he engaged
himself.
From what I have seen of Mr. Staunton, I should think
the term "delicate" thoroughly inapplicable to his condition, but that he is
highly irritable, no one who knows him can for a moment doubt.
How easy 'tis, when destiny proves kind,
With full-spread sails to run before the wind.
So sings the poet. Destiny did prove kind to Mr. Staunton when
he played his match with St. Amant. The Englishman made the most of it, and
achieved a splendid triumph. At the great Chess Tournament in 1851 destiny was
not quite so obliging. The champion from whom we expected so much had a
head-wind against him, and he was beaten. I saw much of Mr. Staunton at that
time. I believe - in all justice let it be said - that he was thoroughly
unnerved, that he was utterly unequal to the arduous contest, and that his great
merits ought not to be gauged by his play upon the occasion alluded to. He
deserved (he did not receive, for he never had given the same to others) every
sympathy under circumstances which were intensely mortifying to himself
personally, and to us nationally.
Since 1851 it has been pretty generally understood that
Mr. Staunton's irritability has not diminished, and that his literary
responsibilities have the rather multiplied. Consequently, we had no right to
expect, nationally, that he would again be our champion, and contend with the
young American, whose reputation ran before him to Europe, and has accompanied
him ever since his arrival from the United States. We had no right, I say, to
expect this, but for one reason. That reason is to be found in the chess
department of the Illustrated London News, of which Mr. Staunton is the
acknowledged editor. It has been constantly implied - nay, it has been over and
over again unequivocally stated - during the last eight years, that the
vanquisher of St. Amant is still the English champion; that as such he has the
right to dictate his own terms, and that if anyone is prepared to accede to
those terms, he (Mr. Staunton) is prepared for the encounter. It matters not
whether the correspondents to whom these implications are made are real or (as
is generally supposed) imaginary. It is sufficient that certain statements are
made with the intention of conveying a false impression to the public as regards
Mr. Staunton's desire to play and capacity of playing. This is where he is so
greatly to blame; this is the point on
which he has alienated from himself during the last few year so many of his
warmest friends. No one blames Mr. Staunton for not playing Mr. Morphy; but
every one has a right to blame Mr. Staunton if, week after week, he implies in
his own organ that there is a chance of a match, if all that time he knows there
is no chance of a match whatsoever. This, I affirm deliberately, and with great
pain, is what Mr. Staunton has done. It has been done times out of number, and
this in ways that have been hardly noticed. If the editor of the chess
department of the Illustrated London News merely states as a piece of
news that Mr. Morphy is coming to England from America to arrange a match at
chess with Mr. Staunton, and Mr. Staunton (being that editor himself, and being
burdened with literary responsibilities which he knows to be so great as to
prevent his playing an arduous contest) fails to append to such statement
another, to the effect that he has given up public
chess and has no intention of again renewing it, he is not acting in a
straightforward and honorable manner. But much more than this has been effected.
So solicitous has Mr. Staunton been to trade as long as possible upon his past
reputation, that it has been written in the Illustrated London News since
Mr. Morphy's arrival in this country that he (Mr. M.) is not prepared with
necessary stakes for an encounter with Mr. Staunton. What truth there was in
such averment may be gathered from the admirable letter in your impression of
last Sunday from the young American to Lord Lyttleton. Why is not Mr. Staunton
content to say (what those who like him best would be glad to be authorized to
say for him): "I have done much for the cause of chess, but I am not equal to
what I once was; and I am hampered by engagements which do not admit of my
playing matches now. I cannot risk my reputation under such manifest
disadvantages as would surround in a contest with Mr. Morphy." The public at
large would then respect Mr. Staunton's candor, and have a larger appreciation
than they now have of his great merits. It is true that Mr. Staunton has said
this at last; but he has been forced to say it with bad grace what ought long
ago to have been said voluntarily with a good one.
These unpleasant (not to use a harsher term) circumstances
are the more to be deplored at present because of the frank courteous and
unassuming conduct of Mr. Morphy upon every occasion since he set foot in
Europe. I have seen him play in London and Paris; and I have noticed those
obliging and unobtrusive manners which secure him the good-will of everybody,
and surround him by troops of friends likewise? Is he not a scholar and a
gentleman? Has he not many qualifications for the distinguished literary
position he now fills? Undoubtedly he has. But he has never been able to merge
the personal in the general - to regard his own individuality as other than the
first consideration. Brought into contact many years ago with players who were
not refined gentlemen, an antagonism was immediately established between the two
parties. Unhappily for the chess world, literary opportunities were afforded in
the columns of rival newspapers for the indulgences of malevolent feelings on
both sides. To this warfare there has never been a cessation. So notorious is
the fact of its existence that it is impossible to rely, in one paper, upon any
statement having reference to the London Chess Club; it is equally impossible to
rely, in the other, upon any statement having reference to the St. George's
Club. Ladies who are devoted to "Caïssa," and write to the Illustrated London
News, are not aware of these things. Imaginary correspondents, of course,
are utterly ignorant of them. But we who live in and about London, who have been
behind the scenes at both theatres, know how much reliance is to be placed upon
a certain kind of chess intelligence with which two rival journals regale their
correspondents and the general public every week. Look even at the
Illustrated London News of last Sunday and you will see a letter professing
to come from Birmingham, (I think it is a misprint for Billingsgate,) which is
absolutely disgraceful. Why should Mr. Staunton try to bolster up his reputation
(which is European) with sentiments and language of a purely (I mean impurely)
local character? Why is one player always to be cried up at the expense of
another? Why are ungenerous and ungentlemanly insinuations to be made against a
youth whose conduct has been characterized by so much unobtrusiveness and so
much good feeling as that of Mr. Morphy? Why is Mr. Harrwitz always to be run
down in the Illustrated London News? Why are Mr. Löwenthal and Mr. Brien,
quondam editorial protégés, now never spoken of but in terms of disparagement?
Why should Mr. Staunton call upon the cercle at Paris to insist upon Mr.
Harrwitz progressing with his match with Mr. Morphy, at a more rapid pace, when
the German had pleaded ill health as the cause of the delay? Who has drawn so
largely upon the patience of the British public, on the score of ill health and
"palpitations of the heart," et hoc genus omne, as the generous and
sympathetic writer who thus stabs a rival player when he is down? It is time,
sire, that these things should cease. We are all weary of them. What better
opportunity for crying a truce to these mean and petty warfares of the pen than
the one which now presents itself? Mr. Staunton is our champion no longer. We
must turn to some one else to uphold the national flag upon that field where
Labourdonnais and M'Donnell fought and struggled. So anxious am I that good
feeling be restored, and that we should be united as I see chess players united
in in other countries, that I have put together hurriedly these reflections,
which, however imperfect they may be, are true and just. And because I have
observed that the chess department of The Field, which you so ably
credit, is peculiarly free from personalities and remarkably authentic in its
information, I ask you to help me in the good cause by giving publicity to this
letter. I am not ashamed of what I have written, nor do I desire to shrink from
the responsibility of revealing my name, if it is necessary. I enclose my card,
as a guarantee, and prefer, if it meets your views, to appear only under the
name of -
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