From The Contemporary Review.

Things have not stood still with chess-players since Steinitz began his career in London nearly forty years ago. It was the tournament of 1862 that attracted him to this country at a period of temporary eclipse, so far, at least as English chess was concerned. Staunton's empire was at an end, the lustre of his great achievements for the moment dimmed by the dazzling radiance of Morphy's brief appearance. When challenged by Morphy, and not, as it was supposed, quite relishing the encounter, he is said to have exclaimed, "I wish this young man would attend to his chess and leave me to my literary studies." For Staunton, besides being a great chess-player, was also an accomplished Elizabethan scholar, and was then engaged on his edition of Shakespeare. Thus the match between Morphy and Staunton never came off, much to the disappointment of the amateurs of the day, though there can be little doubt as to what would have been the result; for the Englishman was an elderly and somewhat laborious player, while the American was young and seemed to win his games by easy flashes of inspiration; and when youth meets age, the Fates usually side with the rising star, as was exemplified when Steinitz played Anderssen, and again when Lasker deprived Steinitz of time-worn laurels.

Morphy's astonishing but momentary display was also ended when Steinitz came to London. It may be looked upon as the climax of a great period, and though it had undoubtedly aroused fresh interest in chess, it was followed by a reaction, as has sometimes been the way with supreme manifestations of the arts. Blackburne had not "arrived," and Zukertort had not been heard of, so that there was an admirable opening for a young player of genius. Steinitz, however, did not at once come to the front. The great tournament was won by the old champion, Anderssen, and the ambitious young Austrian only succeeded in taking the sixth prize. It is rather curious to observe, in comparing the tournaments held in London in 1862 and 1899, that out of the fourteen or fifteen competitors engaged in each, only two took part in both, namely, Steinitz and Blackburne. In 1862 Steinitz was a young man of twenty-six and Blackburne a youth of twenty. It may be that in 1899 both these players made their last appearance in an international contest. Both looked old and worn; and broken in health as they were, it was not without a feeling of melancholy regret that those who remembered their great encounters in the past, watched them twice more sit opposite each other to play their last two games, which resulted in a victory for each. Blackburne, on the whole, acquitted himself well in the tournament, winning two games of Pillsbury and one of Lasker, and taking the sixth prize; finishing, in fact, next after the five players who are now acknowledged to be the best in the world, namely, Lasker, Pillsbury, Maroczy, Janowski and Schlechter. But Steinitz, the older man by six years, the champion of over a quarter of a century's standing, was for the first time in his experience left out of the prize list, and this, though there were nine prizes among fifteen competitors. He took his defeats like a man, with resignation and dignity, occasionally going over positions and explaining to sympathetic onlookers how, in his former days, he would have forestalled combinations, or grasped opportunities that had presented themselves and had been neglected.

But the Steinitz of 1862 was full of resolution and vitality. His position in the tournament of that year was by no means in accordance with his conception, never particularly modest, of his own capacity; and Dubois, who had been fifth, was promptly defeated by him in a match. This was followed by other similar contests, including an engagement with Blackburne, which ended in a signal victory for Steinitz by seven games to one.

Among the most enthusiastic amateurs of those days was the late Lord Russell of Killowen, then a rising young barrister, who, however, did not find the demands of clients so pressing as to prevent him from indulging freely in his favorite games of whist and chess at the old Westminster Club. It was owing to his exertions, in combination with those of a few friends, that the match between the young aspirant Steinitz and the veteran champion, Anderssen, was arranged. Lord Russell, however, told me only two or three months before his death, at the last chess function he attended--the annual dinner of the Metropolitan Chess Club--that all of his sympathies had been with Anderssen, of whom he was the backer. He admired the old man's dashing and dauntless style of play, and the cautious, subtle tactics of the younger expert did not appeal to his taste. Moreover, Steinitz had not the gift of making himself popular, even in his youth. His character was independent and aggressive, and he loved a fight, in which it must be said he always bore
himself sturdily; for never was there a bolder or more determined opponent. Thus it was a great disappointment to Lord Russell, and to many other amateurs of the old school that Steinitz defeated Anderssen, and by this victory gained the championship of the world, a distinction that he held against all comers for twenty-eight years. Lord Russell always held that Anderssen, who only lost by a margin of two games out of fourteen, was in reality the better player, and doubtless there were many others of the same opinion, for, even at the present time, no one would regard such a narrow victory as conclusive. In any case it is certain that Steinitz's powers at that time were far from having reached their maturity. He had not developed the theories that revolutionized the existing ideas on chess and established the "modern school."

It was part of Steinitz's nature, and no doubt one of the reasons of his success, that he would take nothing for granted. His mind was essentially analytical, and there was ample scope for its activity in the game of chess, the analysis of which had scarcely gone beyond its fringe at the time when he took it in hand. Several books had been published professing to give instruction in chess, but these were mainly occupied in explaining the comparatively limited knowledge that had been obtained from experience in the openings, and many of them were untrustworthy. Staunton had improved on the previous works, and had done much towards systematizing the existing knowledge, codifying the openings and correcting the errors of previous writers. But in his works the tone of personal prejudice and ipse dixit, the desire to establish his own, often valuable, opinions, was more pronounced than the love of purely scientific investigation. His teaching, on the whole, was rational and useful, but it did not touch the root of the matter. Experts of the mid-century, following the example of such potent and imaginative players as McDonnell and Labourdonnais were accustomed to rely on the force of attacks usually directed against the adverse king. They would endeavor to obtain a favorable position for a grand assault and, given the opportunity they would generally carry it out with intrepidity, and often with brilliance. It was a fascinating and exciting style of play that had many attractions for both combatants and spectators. Even at the present day, when analysis has done so much to discourage the Ruperts of chess, their methods are those that arouse the most general admiration. No doubt the uncertainty of such "sporting" tactics lends them an additional charm, and commends them to those who seek rather the excitement of play than the scientific exactitude that has now been brought to bear on the game. Certain it is that many attacks proved premature, and were repulsed with loss, often severe enough to make ultimate defeat unavoidable; for pieces that had been diverted from defensive functions to take part in an attack necessarily left a weakness in the main position, and if the enemy could find his way to the weak spot, the advanced forces could not be withdrawn in time to save the situation.

To be continued.

About the Author

This article by Antony Guest is from the journal THE LIVING AGE (Seventh Series, Volume IX, October, November, December 1900), which is in the public domain.

Content by Chess Samizdat

http://www.correspondencechess.com/samizdat/