
Morphy, Lasker, Alekhine And Moriau. A Chess Lucky Bag!
Back when I was a kid - a long, long, time ago when my dad was still alive and I got pocket money, there was a thing called a 'lucky bag'. For three old pennies you got great big bag with a random assortment of sweets and bits of plastic and cardboard. All very exciting when you are little!!
Nowadays my version of the lucky bag is this
Fiala's amazing collections of bits of chess history. I have just received my copy of the one above, put my hand in the bag to dig out some goodies, and, being the kind child that I am, I will let you share some.
But first, I recently mentioned that Richard James was looking into Wainwright, and you can find the first results of that here - https://britishchessnews.com/2022/02/03/minor-pieces-26-george-edward-wainwright-part-1/ Wonderful work mate!
One item there led me into a well known opening trap, confusing C. Moreau with this man
Camille Moriau. I won't say too much here as I think Richard may post something in the near future. A fascinating minor figure in Victorian chess circles, and good enough to be City of London Champion and give blindfold exhibitions.
I first came across the name many years ago studying Lasker.
Among Lasker's earliest professional engagements was coming to London as one of the attractions of the German Exhibition. He played all comers and gave simultaneous exhibitions. In one of those he had a bit of a disaster, with Moriau being one of those to beat him.

O.K. Let's get to some stuff from the Fiala book.
He gives some material on Morphy's visit to London in 1859. A lovely article! In there is something that I have to hand.

A game and a picture.

Some other material on that visit that I hadn't seen before included this, with apologies for the formatting issues again! Must work out how to sort that stuff out!
The welcome reappearance
of Mr Morphy has thrown
new life into the London chess circles.
On Tuesday evening there was a
brilliant meeting of chess-players at
the St. James's Club. Among those
present were Mr. Evelyn, M. P., Mr.
Morphy, M. A. de Riviere, Mr.
Wormald, Mr. Lowenthal, Mr.
Hampton, Mr. Bames, Mr. Bird, Mr.
Lane, Mr. Burden, and many others of
the metropolitan amateurs of the
games.
"Perhaps the most interesting
games played during the evening were
a couple of excellent games contested
between messrs. Morphy and
Lowenthal. In the first game
Mr. Morphy had the move, and
defeated his opponent in admirable
style by one of his trenchant Evans's
Gambit attacks. In the second game
Mr Lowenthal, nothing daunted,
commenced a Ruy Lopez assault and
obtained a capital attack upon his
antagonist's forces. This attack he
prosecuted with the utmost vigour and
accuracy, to the admiration of all the
players present, and finally Mr.
Morphy resigned the game
complimenting Mr. Lowenthal upon
the force and precision with which he
had carried through his attack.
On this occasion many other good
games were contested by the well
known
players above mentioned, and
the play was prolonged with much
interest til a late hour.
The Field. April 16. 1859.
The Games. The first is one of my very favourite Morphy off-hand games.
And the second shows that Lowenthal was no push-over, even for a Morphy.

Next Fiala gives something fascinating, and totally new to me, ( I am not a Morphy scholar) taken from here.
Conway was a pretty fascinating man! You can find a little here - https://heritage.humanists.uk/moncure-conway/
Let's give the material, with, again, apologies for the formatting.
Despite all my freedom there was a curious survival in me up
to my twenty-seventh year of the Methodist dread of card-playing.
The only indoor game I knew was chess. There was a flourishing
Chess Club in Cincinnati, and I entered into the matches with
keen interest. 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. Whenever in New
York I hastened to the Chess Club there, and watched the play
of Lichtenstein, Thompson, Perrin, Marache, Fiske (editor of the
Chess Monthly), and Colonel Mead, president of the club. This
was at a time when the wonderful Paul Morphy was exciting
the world. In July, 1859 I called on him 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! You
are speechless. Again and again you try ; again and again you are
sure you must win ; again and again your prodigal antagonist
leaves his pieces at your mercy ; but his moves are as the steps of
Fate. Then you are charmed all along, so bewitchingly are you
beheaded : one had rather be run through by Bayard, you know,
than spared by a pretender. On the whole, I could only remember
the Oriental anecdote of one who was taken to the banks of the
Euphrates, where by a princely host he was led about the magnifi
cent gardens and bowers, then asked if anything could be more
beautiful. " Yes," he replied, " the chess-play of El-Zuli." So having
lately sailed down the Hudson, having explored Staten Island,
Hoboken, Fort Hamilton, and all the glorious retreats about New
York, I shall say for ever that one thing is more beautiful than
them all the chess-play of Paul Morphy.
This was in July, 1858. I had already received a domestic
suggestion that it was possible to give too much time to an
innocent game, and the hint was reinforced by my experience
with Morphy. I concluded that if, after all the time I had given
to chess, any man could give a rook and beat me easily, any
ambition in that direction might as well be renounced. Thence
forth I played only in vacations or when at sea.
And the game given.

And to finish. Fialla gives a long article on one of Alekhine's simultaneous exhibitions, in amongst a mass of Alekhine material, including details of his various marriages and so on.
The game that has been found from it is typical Alekhine, and has a really beautiful finish. A nice place to windup this little dip into the chess lucky bag.
