Jan-05-09 | | heuristic: Rev. Moncure Daniel Conway
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moncur...
In July, 1858, I called on him (Morphy) at the Brevoort House, New York. He was a rather small man, with a beardless face that would have been boyish had it not been for the melancholy eyes. He was gentlemanly, and spoke in low tones. It had long been out of the question to play with him on even terms; the first-class players generally received the advantage of a knight, but being a second-class player I was given a rook. In a letter written at the time I mention five games in which I was beaten with these odds, but managed (or was permitted) to draw the sixth. It is added:-- When one plays with Morphy the sensation is as queer as the first electric shock, or first love, or chloroform, or any entirely novel experience. As you sit down at the board opposite him, a certain sheepishness steals over you, and you cannot rid yourself of an old fable in which a lion's skin plays a part. Then you are sure you have the advantage; you seem to be secure--you get a rook--you are ahead two pieces, three!! Gently, as if wafted by a zephyr, the pieces glide about the board; and presently as you are about to win the game a soft voice in your ear kindly insinuates, Mate! |
|
Mar-17-16 | | TheFocus: Related to Twitty in any way? |
|
Dec-02-18
 | | MissScarlett: <Gently, as if wafted by a zephyr, the pieces glide about the board; and presently as you are about to win the game a soft voice in your ear kindly insinuates, Mate! <You are speechless.>> Conway's quote, apparently, is taken from Sergeant's <Morphy Gleanings>. |
|
Mar-18-22
 | | MissScarlett: The quote (with slight changes in wording) originates with his <Autobiography: Memories and Experiences of Moncure Daniel Conway>, vol.i, p.290, which is online: https://archive.org/details/autobio... For <July 1858>, when Morphy was in Britain, read <July 1859>. <For a time I edited a weekly chess column in the "Cincinnati Commercial,'' and wrote an article on Chess which Lowell published in the "Atlantic Monthly."> Hmmm.
Pall Mall Gazette, July 16th 1884, p.3:
< Mr. Moncure D. Conway sends us the following reminiscences of the famous chess-player Morphy :-So Paul Morphy is dead! Twenty-five years ago what a sensation would have been caused by such an announcement. It was when the chess clubs of the world were talking over his wonderful blindfold games that I met him and played half a dozen games with him at the Brevoort House, New York. I had almost attained the proud rank (for a youth) of a second-rank player in the clubs, but asked for a rook as odds. Out of the six I won but one game, and have virtually given up chess ever since. Where was the use of toiling on when, after years of struggle, here was a man who could give me a rook and beat me with ease? I can see now the small beardless young man - very much like Edgar Poe - and the white hand, veined like that of a lady, softly moving piece after piece, with little hesitation, as if he had long foreknown my move and had patiently awaited it. No surprise was possible to those quiet eyes. The face of Morphy was pathetic; one could read in it that he felt ashamed of his interest in this game, as Montaigne says Alexander the Great was. Morphy regarded himself as victimized by his success, and made a desperate effort to free himself. He became a lawyer, but he could not make a career other than that which was written in his marvellous brain. I have heard that he was much depressed of late years, though he was beloved by all who knew him, and indeed was a loveable man.> In this account, he wins a game, whereas the autobiography allows only a draw. The Breevort House: https://daytoninmanhattan.blogspot.... |
|
|
|
|