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Dr. L. P. Meredith's Letter in the Cincinnati Commercial
New Orleans April 16, 1879.
TO THE CHESS EDITOR OF THE COMMERCIAL:
During my visit to the South, after seeing the sights of the crescent City,
I was seized by the desire to inform myself in regard to its chess affairs -
to see or meet
Morphy, or learn the particulars about him. Having satisfied my curiosity in
these
respects, I have thought that the relation of what I have learned may be
interesting
to others and sufficiently respond to your suggestions in reference to a
letter about
chess.
My anxiety to learn all I could about Paul Morphy led me to examine the
Direc-
tory and wander to the place designated as his residence, No. 89 Royal
Street, a plain
house of the old style, with a broad double door, without step or vestibule,
opening
right to the sidewalk. The establishment of a jeweler takes up all of the
lower front
except the entrance-door. I made some preliminary inquiries of a neighbor,
who told
me that Mr. Morphy was at home, in good health and able to see people, he
had been
afflicted mentally but was better; he walked out a good deal. In answer to a
ring at
the bell, a negro female appeared, who told me about the same things, and
added
that he was in, and that I could see him. She went away to announce me,
leaving
me to observe the broad hall with cemented floor and walls, and look through
the
archway at the end into a flowering court beyond. The colored damsel
returned say-
ing that she was mistaken; that Mr. Morphy had gone out with his mother, but
that
I could see him at another time. I have since came to regard it as very a
fortunate
circumstance that I failed to see him while misunderstanding the true nature
of affairs.
I learned from undeniable authority that he utterly repudiates chess; that
when ad-
dressed on the subject he either flies into a passion or denies that he
knows or ever
did know anything of the game. Occasionally, I hear, he admits that he used
to play
chess some, but not enough to justify persons in attaching notoriety to him.
He pro-
fesses to be a lawyer of prominence, and, although he has no office, no
clients, and
spends hours promenading Canal St. daily, he imagines himself so pressed
with busi-
ness that he can not release himself for the briefest time. The great case
that absorbs
nearly all his attention in an imaginary one against parties who had charge
of an
estate left y his father. He demands a detailed, explicit account of
everything con-
nected with their administration for a number of years, and they pay no
attention
to his demands and repeated suits, because it is supposed, of the trouble,
and because
everybody else interested is satisfied and knows there is nothing coming to
him,
as already having expended more than his expectancy.
At certain hours every day Paul Morphy is as sure to be waling on Canal
Street
as Canal Street is sure to be there to walk on. People shun him for the
reason that
the least encouragement will result in being compelled to listen for hours
to the
same old story that everyone knows by heart -- that relating to his father's
estate.
He talks of nothing else, and apparently thinks of nothing else.
His personal appearance is not all that striking and were it not for his
singularity
manner, he would rarely be noticed in a thorough-fare. He is of less than
medium
height and thin in body; his face is yellow and careworn, showing every day
of his
forty-two years of age; and destitute of a beard except an effort at a
moustache on a
thick upper lip; his eyes are dark gray, large and intelligent. He is
always, while on
the street, either moving his lips in soliloquy, removing and replacing his
eye-glasses,
and smiling or bowing in response to imaginary salutations. His scrupulously
neat dress
xxxxx him a much more agreeable object of curiosity than he would be if he
were
indigent in his attire.
Physicians regard him as a very peculiar case, amenable to treatment,
possibly,
if placed under their care; but no opportunity is afforded, as he regards
himself as
sane as any man, is harmless to society, and is well cared for by willing
relatives.
Medical experts who have made mental phenomena a study, also say his chess
strength is probably not at all impaired, possibly increased from a long
rest, and that
if he were so inclined he could astonish the world with his wonderful powers
more
than ever. Judging, however, from his long retirement from the chess arena,
and from
his persistent devotion to his insane idea, it is only a reasonable
inference that Paul
Morphy is forever lost to the chess world, and that he will continue to keep
buried
those talents that would benefit the world and gain honor for himself,
together with
the wealth he wants and needs, and which he is striving for so energetically
in a way
that is visionary and hopeless.
On the street in New Orleans, last month, I frequently saw Mr. Morphy but I
was longer in his presence, and had a better opportunity of studying him at
the old
parish Cathedral on Easter Sunday than elsewhere. He paid devout attention
to the
services, and appeared thoroughly familiar with all the ceremonies, always
assum-
ing the kneeling posture, and moving his head and lips responsively at the
right
time, without apparently taking a cue from any of the worshipping throng. At
one time an untidy person brushed his back, and he seemed distressed for
some moments with the idea that his coat had been soiled, endeavoring to
brush it
with his handkerchief. I caught an inquiring look from his eye, and my
glance must
have satisfied him that his coat presented a proper appearance, as he
immediately
composed himself and resumed his attentive air, even spreading his
handkerchief
on the aisle and kneeling on it.
I have spoken of his imagined salutations, and his pleasant bow and smile,
and
xxxful wave of the hand, in response. This must have occurred twenty or
thirty
times as he stood behind a massive column
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