Magyar News, 2002. szeptember-2003. augusztus (13. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
2002-10-01 / 2. szám
TURK by LUCY MALLOWS It was in 1770 when The Turk made its first appearance in front of the Viennese court.On a signal from the Empress Maria Theresa, Baron Wolfgang von Kempelen slowly wheeled his creation forward. The one-meter-high wooden cabinet with a large chessboard screwed to its top ran on four brass casters that not only allowed it to move freely, but also raised it slightly off the floor so that the audience could see that there was nothing hiding underneath. Behind the box sat a figure, dressed in Oriental clothing and a bulky turban. Kempelen opened a door on the left of the cabinet to reveal an elaborate mechanism of cogs, wheels and levers. Then, opening a corresponding door at the back, he held up a candle whose light flickered through complicated innards. After closing the doors, Kempelen wound up the contraption by turning a large key in the cabinet. Suddenly the figure came to life, reaching out with its left arm to the chess pieces around the board. Every dozen moves or so, Kempelen wound up the device again, but never actually touched the figure itself. The Turk, so called due to its attire, managed to defeat a number of challengers. The Turk’s sensational performance that day astonished and delighted the Empress and soon became the talk of Vienna. The presentation changed Kempelen’s life. The 35-year-old civil servant was bom Farkas Kempelen in January 1734 in Bratislava, then Pozsony, capital of the Hungarian part of the dual monarchy. He was not actually a nobleman, although the Farkas Kempelen title baron has often been attributed to him. Kempelen was formally introduced to the Viennese court by his father, Engelbert, a retired customs officer. The young man was very handsome, spoke several languages and made an immediate impression. He was given the important task of translating the Hungarian civil code from Latin into German, the official language throughout the newly united kingdom of Austria-Hungary. Kempelen’s translation was hailed as a masterpiece and he was soon appointed counselor to the imperial court. On the official document confirming his appointment, Maria Theresa wrote, "The Hungarian court will benefit greatly from young Kempelen." In 1757, Kempelen married Franciska, a lady-in-waiting at the court. Sadly, she died suddenly a few weeks later and Kempelen retreated, shocked and griefstricken, to his hobby of scientific experimentation. A wealthy man now, he could afford expensive tools, materials and scientific equipment for his workshop. In 1766 Kempelen was appointed director of the imperial salt mines in Transylvania, by which time he had also remarried. He felt confident enough to put his scientific knowledge into practice and soon devised a system of pumps to drain the mines when they became flooded with water. Following the success of this project, he was asked to design the waterworks for the castle in Pozsony. In the autumn of 1769, Kempelen was invited by Maria Theresa to attend a scientific conjuring show presented to the court by a visiting Frenchman named Pelletier. Maria Theresa was particularly interested in science and had an unusually enlightened attitude toward it for her time. She challenged Kempelen to explain Pelletier’s tricks to her. He was so unimpressed by what he saw that he declared he could do better. He returned to the court six months later, this time as a presenter, with his Turkish wizard. Kempelen eventually took his invention on tour, travelling around the world and sparking vigorous debate about the extent to which machines could emulate or replicate human faculties. In Paris, The Turk played and beat Benjamin Franklin, the American statesman and scientist, who was a chess fanatic. The Turk also played Francois-Andre Danican Philidor, the best chess-player in Europe and, although The Turk lost, the match was considered a triumph. To modem eyes, in an era when it takes a supercomputer such as IBM’s Deep Blue to beat the world grandmaster Garry Kasparov, it seems obvious that Kempelen’s chess-playing machine had to have been a hoax - not a tme automaton at all but a contraption acting under the surreptitious control of a human operator. Using 18th century clockwork and mechanical technology it now seems impossible to have built a genuine chessplaying machine, but at the time automata On the left: This is The Turk with the front of the table open. The left side is taken up by wheels and such, the right side is empty. The picture below shows where the operator was hiding. On the right the Turk is seen with a usual American model before it was destroyed.
