Chess Notes

11973. Announced mates

Zachary Saine (Amsterdam) asks how the practice of Announced Mates arose.

11974. Cyril Pustan (1929-77)

Willibald Müller (Munich, Germany) draws our attention to a 1967 East German film Die gefrorenen Blitze, with particular reference to ‘Cyril Pustan, the second husband of Bobby Fischer’s mother’:

Preview;

Lengthy extract from the documentary.

We add that the University of Bradford states:

‘The Cyril Pustan archive collection has recently been kindly donated to Special Collections at the University of Bradford’s JB Priestley Library and will be made available to researchers in the near future.’

11975. The most spectacular queen sacrifice

From Richard Forster (Winterthur, Switzerland):

‘When chess.com presented a list of the ten most spectacular chess moves of all time in September 2020, first place went to Shirov’s famous ...Bh3 move against Topalov. However, second place was taken by a virtually unknown specimen:

White played 1 Qc7, and Black resigned after 1...Rdxc7 2 Re8.

It was pointed out that White had other winning moves, with Stockfish listing the spectacular 1 Qc7 only in about fifth position.

A more interesting question concerns the circumstances and provenance of the ending. Chess.com only wrote “Meier was White against Muller in 1994”, which invited some speculation in the comments section about the identities of the players and the authenticity of the game. Elsewhere on the Internet, “Germany” can be found added as the country, but the origins of the game seem to remain a mystery.

Most likely, the ending was picked up by the chess.com team (directly or indirectly) from John Emms’ controversial 2000 book The Most Amazing Chess Moves of All Time, which had heavily relied on previous work by Tim Krabbé and others with scant acknowledgement (see item 70 on one of Krabbé’s webpages). Emms gave the caption to puzzle 178 as “R. Meier – S. Müller, Switzerland 1994”. As already pointed out in my Late Knight column no. 28 at Chesscafe.com (“Amazing?”), August 2000, the source will have been my earlier Late Knight column no. 2 of June 1998 (“Alpine Accounting”), where I gave the whole game and specified that it was played between René Meier and Stefan Müller in Thun, Switzerland in 1994.

Here is the full score with all the players’ details and the original source:

René Meier (Sihlfeld) – Stefan Müller (Thun), Thun, 7 May 1994. 1 Nf3 c5 2 g3 Nc6 3 Bg2 g6 4 d3 Bg7 5 e4 e6 6 O-O Nge7 7 Nbd2 O-O 8 Re1 d5 9 c3 b6 10 Nf1 Ba6 11 e5 Rc8 12 Bf4 b5 13 a3 Qb6 14 Qd2 Rfd8 15 Bh6 Bh8 16 Qf4 Rd7 17 Ne3 d4 18 Ng5 Nf5 19 Nxf5 exf5 20 e6 fxe6 21 Rxe6 Bb7 22 Rae1 Qd8 23 Qc7 Rdxc7 24 Re8 Resigns.

The game was played in round five on the seventh and last board of a team match in the second class (“2. Bundesliga”) of the Swiss workers’ Chess Union league (“Gruppenmeisterschaft”). It first appeared in print with a few annotations by the winner in the Schweizerisches Schach-Magazin, no. 6, June 1994, page 189.

A curious twist was added in KARL, no. 3/2023, page 59, when Michael Ehn and Ernst Strouhal gave the ending as “the most spectacular queen sacrifice of all time”, attributing it to “Smith-Walls, USA 1993” without any further indication of their source.

Here for the record is the 1994 publication of the Meier v Müller game:’

11976. Alekhine and Capablanca

Our new feature article on Sir George Thomas does not yet include a famous observation attributed to him, because we currently lack a verifiable source.

From page 161 of The Unknown Capablanca by David Hooper and Dale Brandreth (London, 1975):

‘One is reminded of a remark made by Sir George Thomas, “Against Alekhine”, he said, “you never knew what to expect; against Capablanca you knew what to expect, but you couldn’t prevent it!”’

From page 77 of Capablanca’s Best Chess Endings by Irving Chernev (Oxford, 1978):

‘Capablanca’s clear-cut play in this ending calls to mind a comment by Sir George Thomas, “Against Alekhine you never knew what to expect; against Capablanca you knew what to expect, but you couldn’t prevent it!”’

11977. Staunton and religion

John Townsend (Wokingham, England) writes:

‘In his book, The Great Schools of England, Howard Staunton was a staunch opponent of flogging. Pages xlii to xliii of the second edition (1869) contain these remarks:

“Again and again, in treatises on Education, and in periodicals, it has been condemned; but from dread lest England should be ruined, lest ancient traditions and old-world customs should perish, the administrators of Public Schools passionately fight for flogging, as if it were a kind of sacrament, to be added to the other seven.”

This last observation about sacraments earned him the attention of the writer of a critique in Weekly Review (7 August 1869, page 16), who commented that Staunton’s own “ecclesiastical standpoint” could be “gathered” from it. (Presumably, the reviewer was hinting that, by acknowledging the existence of as many as seven sacraments, Staunton was displaying a Catholic point of view.)

Was anything else ever written which suggested Staunton’s association with religion?’

11978. Cecil De Vere

Also from Mr Townsend:

‘Cecil De Vere was illegitimate, and the identity of his father has been a mystery. Now, some new information has been found in the death certificate of his mother, Katherine De Vere (General Register Office, Sept. qtr. 1864, Pancras, volume 1b, page 41). It shows that she died on 7 July 1864 at 10 Lower Calthorpe Street (Grays Inn Road, London), the informant being Eliza Hooker, “present at death”, of the same address. The cause of death was “Cancer Uteri 2 years”; her age was given as 42, and she was described as the widow of Alexander De Vere, naval surgeon.

The name Alexander De Vere is new. This occupation of her alleged late husband is consistent with information entered on Cecil De Vere’s 1846 birth certificate, where the father’s name was left blank (indicating illegitimacy), but his occupation was nevertheless entered as “surgeon”. The birth certificate was discussed by Owen Hindle in the Quotes & Queries column of the BCM, conducted by Chris Ravilious, in December 2003, February 2004 and November 2005.

Katherine De Vere had already been living at the address where she died at the time of the 1861 census, when she was described as a widow, aged 36, born in Wales (National Archives, RG 9 107, folio 91, page 9). At that time, she had as lodgers Francis Burden, a civil engineer, and Albert Lane, a landscape painter, both chessplayers, who taught the young De Vere to play.

It has not so far been possible to identify the individual referred to as Alexander De Vere, and he will need to be the subject of ongoing research. Likewise, details of his supposed marriage to De Vere’s mother have not been readily found.

De Vere’s mother was buried in Brompton Cemetery on 11 July 1864 in a private grave paid for by “Valentine De Vere”, “gentleman”, of the same address. There was neither probate nor letters of administration.’

Illustrations of the chessplayer are rare. Below is a detail of the Redcar, 1866 group photograph in C.N. 5614:

11979. Copying

Four recent additions to Copying:

The entirety of our compilation of quotations from the three volumes of W.E. Napier’s Amenities and Background of Chess-Play has been copy-pasted, without acknowledgement, on a chessgames.com page.

There is an Alchetron page which helps itself to various illustrations from our Sultan Khan article. That makes it convenient for the chessgames.com page on him to be illustrated as follows:

The Bill Wall method: ransacking our work on Capablanca, without credit, and giving worthless, partial sources.

The ChessBase contributor Davide Nastasio has been lifting a huge number of C.N. photographs (about 80 in the past week alone), without credit, acknowledgement or authorization, for his personal X/Twitter page.

11980. Chess clubs

The first episode of a new PBS television series, Today in Chess, refers to ‘the chess capital of the US, Saint Louis, Missouri’. Through the munificence of Rex Sinquefield, the Saint Louis Chess Club is often described, without contradiction, as the greatest chess club in the United States. What comparable chess clubs (whether in terms of premises, opulence, membership, activity or any further criteria) exist in other countries? In short, if the Saint Louis Chess Club were described as the greatest in the world, would any clubs have a legitimate grievance?

This photograph of the Saint Louis Chess Club was taken for us on 12 February 2024 by Yasser Seirawan:

11981. Menchik v Mieses (C.N. 3687)

This photograph by Erich Auerbach from The Quiet Game by J. Montgomerie (London, 1972) was shown in C.N. 3687, with the question of when it was taken.

From Philip Jurgens (Ottawa, Canada):

‘Vera Menchik and Jacques Mieses played a ten-game match between 21 May and 13 June 1942. He was aged 77, some 41 years older than her. Menchik won by four games to one with five draws. Page 208 of Robert B. Tanner’s book on Menchik (C.N. 10191) described it as “the first ever serious match between a woman and a strong master”.

According to the West London Chess Club website, Vera Menchik joined in 1941 after the National Chess Centre was bombed in the Blitz. Jacques Mieses was also a club member during the Second World War. It is therefore quite likely that they played their match under the auspices of the West London Chess Club and that the photograph was taken during that period.

The above website also states:

“During World War II, very few clubs remained open, but thanks to the determination of the officers, West London Chess Club persevered and invited players from other clubs to play. This brought more strong players to the club, including the likes of Jacques Mieses, Vera Menchik, Sir George Thomas, and briefly, Capablanca [sic].”’

11982. Georg Marco

C.N. 4855 reported a remark by Wolfgang Heidenfeld on page 190 of The Encyclopedia of Chess by Harry Golombek (London, 1977):

‘... Marco has left an imperishable chess legacy in his brilliant and witty annotations.’

That is not the only C.N. item in which relevant quotations from Marco’s writings have been solicited, without tangible results; see also C.N.s 5248, 7819 and 11380. Examples of Heidenfeld’s own brilliance and wit could, and perhaps should, be compiled, but Marco deserves priority. Can readers assist?

11983. J. Baca-Arús

Jaime Baca-Arús (C.N. 11881)

Further to The Capablanca v Price/Baca-Arús Mystery, Yandy Rojas Barrios (Cárdenas, Cuba) has been looking for games played by Jaime Baca-Arús, and he offers the following:

Jaime Baca-Arús – René Portela
Casual game, Havana, 1912 (?)
Danish Gambit

1 e4 e5 2 d4 exd4 3 c3 dxc3 4 Bc4 cxb2 5 Bxb2 Qe7 6 Nc3 Nf6 7 Nge2 Nxe4 8 O-O Nxc3 9 Nxc3 Qc5 10 Re1 Be7 11 Nd5 Nc6 12 Nxc7 Kd8 13 Nxa8 Qxc4 14 Rc1 Qb4 15 Qc2 Bf6 16 Bxf6 gxf6 17 Qf5 Qd4 18 Rcd1 Qc3 19 Rc1 Ne7 20 Qf4 Nd5 21 Qd6 Qd4 22 Qb8 Ne7 23 Rxc8 Resigns.

Source: El Fígaro, 10 March 1912, page 138.

Jaime Baca-Arús – E.C. de Villaverde
Casual game, Havana, 28 March 1912
Philidor’s Defence

1 e4 e5 2 Nf3 d6 3 Nc3 Be7 4 d4 exd4 5 Nxd4 Nf6 6 f4 c5 7 Nf3 O-O 8 Bd3 a6 9 O-O b5 10 b3 Bb7 11 Ng5 h6 12 Kh1 b4 13 Nd5 Nxd5 14 exd5 hxg5 15 Qh5 g6 16 Bxg6 fxg6 17 Qxg6 Kh8 18 Bb2 Bf6 19 Rf3 g4 20 Qh5 Kg8 21 Qxg4 Bg5 22 Qe6 Rf7 23 fxg5 Qe7 24 Qg6 Kf8 25 Raf1 Bxd5 26 Rxf7 Bxf7 27 Qf5 Kg8 28 g6 Be6 29 Qh5 Resigns.

Source: El Fígaro, 21 April 1912, page 238.

Jaime Baca-Arús – René Portela
Round 1, Havana Chess Club Championship, 1912
Queen’s Gambit Declined

1 d4 d5 2 c4 e6 3 Nc3 c5 4 cxd5 exd5 5 Nf3 Nc6 6 g3 Nf6 7 Bg2 cxd4 8 Nxd4 Qb6 9 Nxc6 bxc6 10 O-O Ba6 11 Qa4 Bb5 12 Nxb5 cxb5 13 Qb3 Rd8 14 Bg5 Be7 15 Bxf6 Bxf6 16 a4 O-O 17 axb5 Rfe8 18 Bxd5 Rxe2 19 Bxf7 Kh8 20 Rad1 Rxb2 21 Rxd8 Qxd8 22 Rd1 Qb6 23 Qe3 Qxe3 24 fxe3 Rxb5 25 Rd7 a5 26 Rd5 Rxd5 27 Bxd5 a4 28 Kg2 g6 29 Kf3 Kg7 30 h4 Kf8 31 Kf4 Ke7 32 Ke4 Kd6 33 Ba2 Kc5 34 Kd3 Kb4 35 Kc2 a3 36 Kd3 h5 37 Kc2 Be5 38 Bf7 Drawn.

Source: Capablanca Magazine, 31 July 1912, page 108.

Jaime Baca-Arús – Gustavo Fernández
Casual game, Havana, 8 March 1914
Danish Gambit

1 e4 e5 2 d4 exd4 3 c3 dxc3 4 Bc4 cxb2 5 Bxb2 Qe7 6 Nc3 c6 7 Nge2 b5 8 Bxb5 cxb5 9 Nxb5 Qb4 10 Nec3 Qc5 11 Qd5 Qxd5 12 Nxd5 Na6 13 O-O Rb8 14 a4 Bb7 15 Rfe1 Bc6 16 Bd4 Nf6 17 Bxa7 Rb7 18 Bd4 Bb4 19 Reb1 Bxd5 20 exd5 O-O 21 d6 Ne4 22 f3 Nd2 23 Rxb4 Nxb4 24 Bc3 Nb3 25 Rb1 Nd5 26 Rxb3 Nxc3 27 Rxc3 g6 28 Rc7 Rb6 29 Rxd7 Ra8 30 Rc7 Kf8 31 d7 Ke7 32 Na7 Rab8 33 Nc6 Kd6 34 Rc8 Kxd7 35 Rxb8 Rxc6 36 Rb7 Rc7 37 Rxc7 Kxc7 38 Kf2 Kb6 39 Ke3 Ka5 40 Kf4 Kxa4 41 Ke5 f5 42 g4 Resigns.

Source: El Fígaro (Ajedrez Local, Juan Corzo), 19 April 1914, unnumbered page.

Jaime Baca-Arús – M.A. Carbonell
Round 1, II Intersocial Tournament, Havana, 1931
Caro-Kann Defence

1 e4 c6 2 d4 d5 3 Nc3 dxe4 4 Nxe4 Nf6 5 Nxf6 exf6 6 Nf3 Bd6 7 Bd3 Bg4 8 O-O O-O 9 c3 Qc7 10 h3 Bh5 11 c4 Rd8 12 c5 Bh2 13 Kh1 Bf4 14 Be3 g5 15 g4 Bg6 16 Bxg6 hxg6 17 Qd3 Nd7 18 b4 Kg7 19 Rad1 Rh8 20 Kg2 Rad8 21 Rh1 b6 22 Bxf4 Qxf4 23 Qe3 Qb8 24 d5 Rhe8 25 Qc3 cxd5 26 Rxd5 bxc5 27 bxc5 Qc7 28 Rhd1 Nb8 29 Rxd8 Rxd8 30 Rxd8 Qxd8 31 Nxg5 Qd5 32 Nf3 Nc6 33 g5 Ne5 34 gxf6 Kxf6 35 c6 Ke6 36 Qxe5 Resigns.

Source: Diario de la Marina, 13 December 1931, page 18.

Biographical and other information is still being researched by our correspondent and will be added in due course.

11984. Anything is good enough

As quoted in C.N. 876 (see Book Notes), Charles W. Warburton wrote the following on page 42 of My Chess Adventures (Chicago, 1980) in a discussion of the Caro-Kann Defence:

‘Typically convincing is the thought of Dr Emanuel Lasker who was known to say “anything is good enough to play once”.’

Countless masters are purportedly ‘known’ to have said countless things, but in this case we can at least cite a vague attribution from Lasker’s heyday. On pages 516-517 of the December 1898 BCM J.H. Blake annotated Tarrasch v Halprin, Vienna, 1898, which began 1 d4 d5 2 c4 e6 3 Nc3 Nf6 4 Bg5 Be7 5 Nf3 h6 6 Bf4 dxc4 7 e3 Nd5 8 Be5 f6 9 Bg3 Bb4 10 Qc2 b5 11 a4 c6 12 axb5 cxb5 13 e4.

After 8 Be5, Blake wrote:

‘Black’s moves six to ten constitute a line of defence to the attack by B-KB4 in the Q. Gambit, which is little known, and which, though not strictly recommendable, may occasionally serve its turn, in accordance with a maxim attributed to Lasker, that in the opening “anything is good enough to play once”. Dr Tarrasch, however, was on this occasion no stranger to it, since it was played against him (after 4 B-B4 PxP 5 P-K3 Kt-Q4, etc.) by Maróczy at Buda Pesth [in 1896]; it is the more surprising therefore that he should so nearly have fallen a victim to it here, as his continuation on the previous occasion by 6 KBxP KtxB 7 PxKt is in the present position the only good defence, and a perfectly satisfactory one.’

11985. Backward moves and empty squares

Instruction manuals sometimes note the difficulty of visualizing a) sacrifices on empty squares and b) backward moves by pieces. Who first made such observations in print? Also requested: practical examples (the less well known, the better).

11986. Rupert Brooke’s notebook

It is still not proving possible to find out more about the texts included in the notebooks (circa 1902-04) of Rupert Chawner Brooke (1887-1915), as shown in our feature article on him. For example:

We observed that Brooke appeared to be copying openings material from a book or magazine, and that the reference to Staunton related to remarks originally published on page 148 of his Handbook (London, 1847). Can nothing further be found?

From page 69 of Rupert Brooke by Michael Hastings (London, 1967)

11987. Samuel Reshevsky

Avital Pilpel (Haifa, Israel) sends, courtesy of Herbert Halsegger, a feature about the prodigy Reshevsky on page 2 of part 6 of the Richmond Times-Dispatch, 20 March 1921:

Larger version

11988. Preparation

Wanted: little-known accounts by masters of their chess preparations for important tournaments and matches.

11989. Steinitz and Séguin

Our recent feature article Wilhelm Steinitz Miscellanea quotes remarks such as the following by Steinitz about James Séguin, on page 86 of the International Chess Magazine, April 1888:

‘And I mean to devote to the task [i.e. exposing the alleged dishonesty of James Séguin], if necessary, the space of this column for the next 12 months, or for as many years, in case of further literary highway robberies perpetrated by the same individual, and provided that I and this journal survive, in order to statuate for all times, or as long as chess shall live, an example that the only true champion of the world for the last 22 years (I may say so for once), who has always defended his chess prestige against all-comers, has also a true regard for true public opinion, and that he can defy single-handed all the lying manufactories of press combinations to show any real stain on his honor; and that he can convict and severely punish any foul-mouthed editor who, like the shystering journalistic advocate of New Orleans, attempts to rob him of his good name outside of the chess board.’

Has there been a trustworthy investigation of Steinitz’s objections concerning Séguin?

11990. The Thomas family

As a supplement to Sir George Thomas, John Saunders (Kingston upon Thames, England) submits this report from page 9 of the Morning Post, 22 June 1895:

Our correspondent is the Webmaster of BritBase – British Chess Game Archive.

11991. Difficult to visualize (C.N. 11985)

In addition to backward moves and sacrifices on empty squares, there can be difficulty in seeing collinear moves, as discussed, with examples, in C.N. 4230 and 4233. Those items are in our feature article on the originator of the term, John Nunn.

11992. Staunton and Morphy

The text of C.N. 11939:

What was the largest number of games that either Staunton or Morphy ever played simultaneously (excluding the latter’s blindfold displays)?

This surprisingly difficult question has been mentioned in, for instance, C.N.s 4492 and 11874 (see Howard Staunton) and C.N. 10423 (see Paul Morphy). Citations for numbers as low as three or four will be welcomed, to start the ball rolling.

The ball still stubbornly stationary, we now approach the issue from a fresh angle (‘prêcher le faux pour savoir le vrai’). Let it be imagined that, excluding Morphy’s blindfold displays, a chess author were to write:

‘In their entire lives neither Staunton nor Morphy gave a single normal/regular simultaneous exhibition.’

What facts could be put forward to refute that imaginary chess author’s assertion?

11993. Staunton correspondence

From John Townsend (Wokingham, England):

‘Sixty-two letters, written 1855-74, by Howard Staunton to his friend and fellow Shakespeare scholar, James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps, are deposited at Edinburgh University Library. The chess content is precisely nil. That is because his interest by that stage of his life had turned to Shakespeare and other literary and historical matters, some of which he pursued through his contributions to the Illustrated London News. Nevertheless, the correspondence has much to offer regarding Staunton the man and shows him as a person quite different from the vengeful fiend which he is sometimes portrayed as being.

In the example which follows, Staunton is elated at the prospect of a visit to Broadway, Worcestershire, where Halliwell-Phillipps’ wife had inherited the library of her father, Sir Thomas Phillipps, at Middle Hill. Staunton also expected that the Cotswolds air would be beneficial for his chest condition (described by him elsewhere as bronchitis), and he looked forward to renewing his friendship with Halliwell-Phillipps, whose company he very much enjoyed. He was anxious for his friend to turn up.

The letter is typical of Staunton’s prose in his letters to Halliwell-Phillipps: relaxed and informal, yet studded with literary allusions.

“117 Lansdowne Road,
Kensington Park (W)

May 17th 1873

Dear Halliwell,

I am off to the famous Cotswolds where Master Page’s fallow greyhound came off second best. I hope no mishap will prevent you from joining me on Monday and, then, ‘What larks!!’

How I long for a tramp over those glorious hills!

‘Broadway rises to a height of 1,100 feet above the sea.’

Think of that, Master Brook! Think of the delicious ozoned oxygen! Think of the road side pebbles when, as poor Lamb used to say, ‘We have walked a pint’! Think of the fresh eggs & the streaky bacon! Think of the neat-handed Phillisses, the Cotsoll Hebes!! and with these thoughts let no ordinary impediment deter you from ‘taking the road’. Give my best regards to the ladies and believe me

Sincerely Yours

H. Staunton

J.O. Halliwell-Phillipps”

Source: Edinburgh University Library, Special Collections, Letters to J.O. Halliwell-Phillipps, 203/20.

The visit was highly successful and he stayed at the prestigious Lygon Arms in Broadway. In his James Orchard Halliwell and Friends: IV. Howard Staunton (1997, page 128), Marvin Spevack records Halliwell-Phillipps’ sentiments expressed in a letter from Broadway of his trip with Staunton to Stratford that they were

“as jolly as sandboys [...] how long can jollity last in the world, and would there be any without B. and S.”’

11994. Excuses

‘I had a toothache during the first game. In the second game I had a headache. In the third game it was an attack of rheumatism. In the fourth game, I wasn’t feeling well. And in the fifth game? Well, must one have to win every game?’

Anyone using a search-engine for that remark, or a slightly different wording, will be presented with countless webpages. Most ascribe the comment to Tarrasch, some to Tartakower, and none to a precise source.

In print, it is no surprise to find A. Soltis writing the following sourcelessly on page 11 of Chess Life, June 1990:

‘And it was Tartakower who had perhaps the final word on excuses. Asked how he could lose so many games in a row at one tournament he replied: “I had a toothache during the first game, so I lost. In the second game I had a headache, so I lost. In the third game an attack of rheumatism in the left shoulder, so I lost. In the fourth game I wasn’t feeling at all well, so I lost. And in the fifth game – well, must I win every game in a tournament?”’

An earlier version was related by Harry Golombek on page 91 of the April 1953 BCM in a report on that year’s tournament in Bucharest, at which he ‘had a really dreadful phase’:

‘If asked to account for these six successive losses I think I cannot do better than to quote Dr Tartakower who on a similar occasion was explaining why he lost five games in a row in an international tournament. “The first”, he said, “I lost because of a very bad headache; during the second I didn’t feel at all well; I was afflicted by rheumatic twinges throughout the third; in the fourth I suffered acute toothache; and the fifth – well, must one win every game in a tournament?”’

Readers may care to imagine themselves entrusted with editing a chess quotations anthology. What to do with this ‘final word on excuses’? Omit it owing to the lack of a source? Give in detail the various versions and attributions? Plump and hope for the best (the process described in C.N. 9887)?

An attempt may first be made to establish when, if ever, Tartakower or Tarrasch lost five consecutive tournament games, and when the story was first attributed to, if not voiced by, either of them.

See also Excuses for Losing at Chess.

11995. Photographs

Olimpiu G. Urcan (Singapore) has provided this photograph of Bogoljubow and Rubinstein which he owns. Exact details of the occasion are sought.

Mr Urcan has also sent us this 1976 photograph of Tony Miles (Camera Press Archive):

11996. Staunton and Morphy (C.N. 11992)

Jerry Spinrad (Nashville, TN, USA) informs us that the only simultaneous display by Staunton which he has seen mentioned in the Chess Player’s Chronicle is a very small one at the Rock Ferry Chess Club (July 1853 issue, pages 217-218):

‘A special Meeting of this Society was held on the evening of the 5th ult. at the Club Rooms, Rock Ferry Hotel, for the purpose of welcoming to Cheshire Mr Staunton, who, during his short visit, was the guest of Mr Morecroft, of the Manor House ... In the course of the evening there was some very interesting play. Mr Staunton conducted simultaneously two games against the Liverpool gentlemen, in consultation at one board, giving them the odds of pawn and two moves, and against the Rock Ferry gentlemen, at another board, giving them the odds of the knight.’

On Morphy, Jerry Spinrad and John Townsend (Wokingham, England) refer to a simultaneous display which is well known. Mr Townsend writes:

‘David Lawson, in Paul Morphy, the Pride and Sorrow of Chess (new edition by Thomas Aiello, 2010), quoted (on pages 213-214) from an account of a simultaneous exhibition which took place at the St James’s Chess Club in London on 26 April 1859, the source being the Illustrated News of the World, of “the following Saturday”:

“A highly interesting assembly met in the splendid saloon of St James’s Hall, on Tuesday evening last [26 April], when Mr Morphy encountered five of the best players in the metropolis.”

The opposition was formidable:

“The first table was occupied by M. de Rivière; the second, by Mr Boden; the third, by Mr Barnes; the fourth, by Mr Bird; and the fifth, by Mr Löwenthal. Mr Morphy played all these gentlemen simultaneously, walking from board to board, and making his replies with extraordinary rapidity and decision. Although we believe that this is the first performance of the kind by Mr Morphy, it is a remarkable fact that he lost but one game. Two other games were won by him and two were drawn.”’

Those reports, one display apiece by Staunton and Morphy, are all that can currently be cited here, although the following may be recalled from C.N. 10423 (concerning Morphy after his match with Anderssen):

‘He confined himself to simultaneous displays, playing 20, 30 and even 40 people at once ...’

Source: page 274 of Keene On Chess by R. Keene (New York, 1999). The identical wording was on page 275 of Complete Book of Beginning Chess by R. Keene (New York, 2003).

11997. Rook ending note

João Pedro S. Mendonça Correia (Lisbon) draws attention to this annotation on page 217 of the Caissa Editions translation (Yorklyn, 1993) of Tarrasch’s book on St Petersburg, 1914 and wonders whether any personal acrimony underlies the reference to billiards:

From the original German edition (page 151):

The game was Capablanca v Marshall in round four of the final section: 1 e4 e5 2 Nf3 Nf6 3 Nxe5 d6 4 Nf3 Nxe4 5 Qe2 Qe7 6 d3 Nf6 7 Bg5 Be6 8 Nc3 h6 9 Bxf6 Qxf6 10 d4 Be7 11 Qb5+ Nd7 12 Bd3 g5 13 h3 O-O 14 Qxb7 Rab8 15 Qe4 Qg7 16 b3 c5 17 O-O cxd4 18 Nd5 Bd8 19 Bc4 Nc5 20 Qxd4 Qxd4 21 Nxd4 Bxd5 22 Bxd5 Bf6 23 Rad1 Bxd4 24 Rxd4 Kg7 25 Bc4 Rb6 26 Re1 Kf6 27 f4 Ne6 28 fxg5+ hxg5 29 Rf1+ Ke7 30 Rg4 Rg8 31 Rf5 Rc6 32 h4 Rgc8 33 hxg5 Rc5 34 Bxe6 fxe6 35 Rxc5 Rxc5 36 g6 Kf8 37 Rc4 Ra5 38 a4 Kg7 39 Rc6 Rd5 40 Rc7+ Kxg6 41 Rxa7 Rd1+ 42 Kh2 d5 43 a5 Rc1 44 Rc7 Ra1 45 b4 Ra4 46 c3 d4 47 Rc6 dxc3 48 Rxc3 Rxb4 49 Ra3 Rb7 50 a6 Ra7 51 Ra5 Kf6 52 g4 Ke7 53 Kg3 Kd6 54 Kf4 Kc7 55 Ke5 Kd7 56 g5 Ke7 57 g6 Kf8 58 Kxe6 Ke8 59 g7 Rxg7 60 a7 Rg6+ 61 Kf5 Resigns.

Tarrasch also criticized 46 c3, appending a question mark.

Below is the position after White’s penultimate move, 60 a7:

Tarrasch called Marshall’s 60...Rg6+ a Racheschach. It is not a ‘spite check’ strictu sensu, given that two of the three possible king moves by White lose.

11998. A difficult rook ending

On 25 March 2024 Ben Finegold posted on his YouTube channel a game with a complicated rook ending submitted by a viewer. Afterwards, starting at 13’17”, Finegold drolly commented that most games from viewers had seven blunders by one side and eight by the other.

C.N. 7228 gave two pre-Tartakower (1890 and 1901) occurrences of the observation that the winner is the player who makes the last mistake but one, but information is still sought on when it was first attached to Tartakower’s name, or to that of other masters.

In the latter category, Barnie F. Winkelman wrote on page 205 of Chess Review, September 1935:

‘To Lasker chess was (and remains) a contest, a personal encounter in which he frequently avoided the best variations, and sought to give battle on unfamiliar ground. “The winner of a game of chess”, he is reported to have said, “is he who makes the last mistake but one.”’

With terms like ‘is reported to have said’ (and ‘reportedly said’), the floodgates are open for anyone to write anything.

11999. Chess Book Chats

As recorded in the Factfinder, we have referred to Michael Clapham’s website Chess Book Chats. In the past month it has been updated with some more first-class articles.

12000. My System

As shown in Nimzowitsch’s My System, C.N. 9792 remarked:

Mein System is a rare case of a chess book also existing in a simplified version, edited by Heinz Brunthaler (Zeil am Main, 2007).

Now we note that Russell Enterprises, Inc. has just produced a ‘FastTrack Edition’ of My System, edited by Alex Fishbein.

12001. The Pride and Sorrow of Chess

With the increase in digitized publications it can be hoped that more nineteenth-century occurrences will be found of ‘The Pride and Sorrow of Chess’. At present the earliest citations that we have given are:

C.N. 4053:

On page 113 of the April 1885 International Chess Magazine Steinitz wrote:

‘... the fearful misfortune which ultimately befell “the pride and sorrow of chess”, as Sheriff Spens justly calls Morphy, can only evoke the warmest sympathy in every human breast.’

C.N. 6469:

On page 3 of the January 1885 issue of his magazine Steinitz had mentioned the phrase with a second definite article but no reference to Spens:

‘The pride and the sorrow of chess, as Morphy has been called, is gone for ever.’

12002. A remark by Purdy (C.N.s 10171 & 10182)

Still also being sought: the source of the following annotation by C.J.S. Purdy:

‘This is a legal move; it has no other merit.’

12003. The Club Argentino de Ajedrez (C.N.s 11330, 11341 & 11349)

Some further photographs provided to us by Carlos León Cranbourne (Buenos Aires):

12004. Hanging

There is a difference between ‘hanging pawns’ and ‘pawns hanging’, and we wonder how far back one can trace the verb ‘to hang’ in the sense of to leave en prise or to leave a resource open to the opponent, as in expressions such as White ‘hung a rook’, ‘left his queen hanging’ or, indeed, ‘left a mate in one hanging’.

12005. Announced mates (C.N. 11973)

We are grateful to Robert John McCrary (Columbia, SC, USA) for making an initial search for early references to announced mates. It may seem logical to assume that correspondence chess gave an impetus to the practice, to limit postage outlay, but hard facts are still lacking.

Our correspondent draws attention to page 220 of Volume II of the Chess Player’s Chronicle, which includes this:

‘M. Chamouillet here announced that he could force mate in nine moves; and his adversaries, after examining the position, resigned.’

12006. Vienna, 1922

From Avital Pilpel (Haifa, Israel):

‘Herbert Halsegger has drawn my attention to sketches by L.R. Barteau of some of the players in the Vienna, 1922 tournament, as well as the President of the Vienna Chess Club, Dr Kondor. They appeared on half the front page of the Illustriertes Wiener Extrablatt, 18 November 1922. The information about Kondor is from page 3 of the same issue, in the chess column.’

12007. Cheating

Prompted by the swirl of unverified and unverifiable claims about online cheating, we suggest the following:

Accusations need corroboration. Insinuations need expurgation.

12008. The spite check

C.N. 11997 referred to the term ‘spite check’ and the similar, though not identical, German word Racheschach.

As shown in the The Spite Check in Chess, various writers offer various definitions, but we should like to know of any (close) equivalents in other languages. Spanish, for instance, has jaque por despecho.

12009. The last mistake but one (C.N. 11998)

Christian Sánchez (Rosario, Argentina) points out the following in an article by Henry Smith Williams about Samuel Reshevsky on page 43 of the October 1920 issue of Hearst’s:

‘In the words of Lasker – for many years the undefeatable champion – the man who wins is the man who makes the last mistake but one.’

12010. The Orthodox Defence

Wanted: early occurrences of the word ‘Orthodox’ (in any language) in connection with the defence 1 d4 d5 2 c4 e6.

12011. Fischer on Alekhine

Alexander Alekhine Miscellanea begins with Fischer’s view in the article ‘The Ten Greatest Masters in History’ on pages 56-61 of Chessworld, January-February 1964):

Would anyone venture to offer serious support to Fischer’s contention, ‘strangely, if you’ve seen one Alekhine game you’ve seen them all’?

12012. T.A. Krishnamachariar

Further to Two Indian Chess Figures, Michael McDowell (Westcliff-on-sea, England) notes that although T.A. Krishnamachariar seems to have had no obituary in The Problemist, the following appeared on page 510 of the March 1954 issue:

12013. Ian Brady, Graham Young and Peter Sutcliffe

From Avital Pilpel (Haifa, Israel):

‘In Chess and Murder, you note that “Ian Brady described playing chess against Graham Young in Parkhurst Prison on the Isle of Wight”. It is worth adding that after Brady’s death, an interview with another British serial killer – Peter Sutcliffe, the “Yorkshire Ripper” – stated that the latter played chess with Brady.

Just as Brady was dismissive of Young’s chess ability, Sutcliffe was dismissive of Brady’s, according to an online Mirror report dated 27 May 2017.’

12014. Announced mates (C.N.s 11973 & 12005)

John Townsend (Wokingham, England) writes:

‘Page 23 of William Hartston’s The Kings of Chess (London, 1985) contains an example of an announced mate by Philidor. The occasion was an odds game with Count Brühl at Parsloe’s in London on 26 January 1789. White was in check, “and Philidor announced mate in two moves: 28 Qxf5! and 29 Rh8 mate”.

George Walker’s A Selection of Games at Chess, actually played by Philidor and his contemporaries (London, 1835) includes the game on pages 41-42 with the following termination:

“27 K. Kt. P. on. Kt. to K. B. fourth, ch. 28 Q takes Kt., and Mates next move with R.”

The Oxford Encyclopedia of Chess Games by Levy and O’Connell (Oxford, 1981) has the score (page 15) as concluding with “27 g5 Nf5+ 1-0” and gives the source as “MS H.J. Murray 64, Bodleian Oxford, ‘Collection of European Games’”.’

See also Announced Mates.

12015. Rossolimo’s brilliancies

Michael Petrow (Munich, Germany) notes references to an alleged self-publication by Nicolas Rossolimo: Rossolimo’s Brilliancy Prizes (New York, 1970).

It is mentioned in the English-language Wikipedia entry on Rossolimo, but neither online nor elsewhere have we found authoritative information about its existence.

The other chess work referred to in the entry, Les Échecs au coin du feu (Paris, 1947) with a Preface by Tartakower, has 28 pages and, courtesy of the Cleveland Public Library, a number of them are shown below:

12016. Alekhine’s gun (C.N.s 7880, 7914, 7972, 8625 & 8860)

Eduardo Bauzá Mercére (New York, NY, USA) provides the following game:

Alexander McDonnell – George Walker
Occasion?
(Odds of pawn and two moves. Remove Black’s f-pawn.)

1 e4 … 2 d4 Nc6 3 e5 d5 4 c3 Bf5 5 g4 Be4 6 f3 Bxb1 7 Rxb1 e6 8 Bf4 h5 9 Bd3 hxg4 10 Bg6+ Kd7 11 fxg4 Qh4+ 12 Bg3 Qg5 13 Bd3 Nh6 14 Be2 Qe3 15 Kf1 Be7 16 Kg2 Raf8 17 Nh3 Nf7 18 Qd3 Qh6 19 Bf4 Qh4 20 Qg3 Qh7 21 Bd3 g6 22 Rbf1 Bh4 23 Qe3 Be7 24 Rf3 Qg7 25 g5 Rh5 26 Rg3 Qh7 27 Rg4 Bd8 28 Bb5 a6 29 Bxc6+ bxc6 30 Rf1 Be7 31 b4 a5 32 a3 axb4 33 cxb4 Rh8

34 Rf3 Nd8 35 Nf2 Nf7 36 h4 Qg8 37 Bg3 R8h7 38 Nd3 Qh8

39 Nc5+ Bxc5 40 bxc5 Qa8 41 Rf6 Rg7 42 Rgf4 Rhh7 43 Qd3 Nh8 44 Rf8 Qb7 45 Rf3 Ke7 46 R8f6 Rg8 47 Kh3 Qb2 48 Qa6 Qb5 49 Qa7 Qb8 50 Qa5 Nf7 51 Kg4 Qb7 52 Qa4 Ra8 53 Qc2 Nh8 54 Rb3 Qa6 55 Qb2 Rg7 56 Rb8 Rg8 57 Rxg8 Rxg8 58 Rf3 Qc8 59 a4 Qa6 60 Qc2 Ra8 61 Ra3 Rf8 62 Rf3 Ra8 63 Ra3 Rf8 64 Qd3 Qa5 65 Qc3 Qa6 66 Qd3 Qa5 67 Qc3 Qa6 68 Qd3 Qa5 69 Ra1 Qb4 70 a5 Qb2 71 Rb1 Qa2 72 Rf1 Rf5 73 a6 Nf7 74 Rxf5 exf5+ 75 Kh3 Qa1 76 Bf2 Nd8 77 Kg2 Ne6 78 Be3 Qa2+ 79 Kg3 Ng7 80 Kf3 Kd7 81 Bf4 Kc8 82 Bg3 Kb8 83 Qe2 Qxe2+ 84 Kxe2 Ka7 85 Bf4 Kxa6 86 Ke3 Kb5 87 Kd3 Ka4 88 Kc3 Ne6 89 Be3 Ka5 90 Bf2 Ka6 91 Kd3 Kb7 92 Ke3 Kc8 93 Bg3 Kd7 94 Bf2 Ng7 95 Kf4 Ke6 96 Bg3 Kd7 97 Ke3 Kc8 98 Bf4 Kd7 99 Ke2 Ke6 100 Bg3 Kd7 101 Kf3 Nh5 102 Bf2 f4 103 Be1 Ke6 104 Kg4 Ke7 105 Bd2 Ng7 106 Be1 Ne6 107 Bf2 Ke8 108 h5 Kf7 109 h6 Kf8 Drawn.

Our correspondent’s source is pages 88-91 of A Selection of Games at Chess ... by William Greenwood Walker (London, 1836).

The set of C.N. items on this theme has now been brought together in Alekhine’s Gun.

12017. Sourcing

Writer A makes a significant discovery in a 100-year-old newspaper and presents the information with a complete source.

Writer B repeats the information but specifies only the 100-year-old source, as if he had discovered it himself.

Such conduct by Writer B is widespread, and a technical term for it may be sought. Since technical terms are often -isms, one possibility is ‘intermediate source misattribution’.

12018. Reversed images

C.N. 7345 (see Chess and Insanity) quoted slighting remarks about leading masters by interviewees in Liz Garbus’s documentary film (2011) Bobby Fischer Against the World. The CD cover above is a famous shot by Harry Benson but in reverse form; Fischer parted his hair on the left. See, however, C.N. 7860 (included in Gaffes by Chess Publishers and Authors), which mentions a book by Benson himself, as well as a work on Pillsbury with a flipped image on its front cover.

As shown by numerous pictures, Morphy too parted his hair on the left; see our comment on a mirror image in C.N. 5150. Another mistake occurred on page 53 of Chessworld, January-February 1964, in a lengthy, richly illustrated article on Morphy by David Lawson:

Left: published mirror image – Right: corrected

New in Chess has announced the forthcoming publication of The Real Paul Morphy by Charles Hertan:

Addition on 28 August 2024:

As shown on the above-mentioned New in Chess webpage, the front cover has been changed:

12019. The Star of David

From Avital Pilpel (Haifa, Israel):

‘Further to your feature article Letters and Numbers in Chess Problems, sometimes the depiction is not of a letter or number but an object. In Sivan 5684 (the Hebrew month equivalent to June 1924), Ha’shachmat – the magazine of the “Lasker” chess club in Jerusalem – published its first chess problems (volume one, number three, page 1). The very first of these problems was composed specifically for a Palestinian chess publication. Zionist sentiment is emphasized, and it is entitled “Star of David” and “dedicated to the revival of chess in our country” by the Jewish-Polish problemist Jakob Kopel Speiser.’

12020. Chess literature

Particularly in the 1980s, C.N. items criticized the low standard of many chess books and the preponderance of volumes on openings. Those who, at the time, dismissed such grievances may profitably reflect on the situation today. To mention just one example, Quality Chess (Glasgow) produces a vast array of highly impressive titles which are poles apart from what the chess public was expected to tolerate decades ago, such as the ‘Batsford disposables’ referred to in Fischer’s Fury.

12021. References to chess in language courses (C.N.s 8684 & 11023)

Another rare example comes from page 49 of A First German by L. Stringer, illustrated by Alfred Jackson (London, 1966):

12022. Stalwarts

In hurriedly penned ‘obituaries’ of minor chess figures who have just died (they have ‘passed sadly’ and will be ‘missed sadly’) minor memorialists often reach for that curious noun/adjective ‘stalwart’. Never applied to oneself, it hints at an elderly, unfêted club member, more notable for his presence than his prowess, who gladly stays behind to tidy up and rinse the cups. Our use of ‘his’ is intentional; chess stalwarts are not female.

12023. Electronic resources

Asked by another C.N. correspondent whether he had researched all of Staunton’s Illustrated London News columns, G.H. Diggle replied in 1987 (see C.N. 1439):

‘Of course I have, and broken my shins on them.’

The days of grappling with bulky annual volumes in reference libraries have largely gone, home- or office-based electronic searches having transformed the task, or joy, of historical investigation. With Google Books alone much thirst for knowledge, whether serious or trivial, can be slaked in moments by entering key words or phrases.

If, for instance, a chess enthusiast wants to know about players of past centuries slaking their thirst in coffee houses, and wonders how the term became derogatory, innumerable citations can be found, perhaps beginning with Staunton’s remark on page 111 of the London, 1851 tournament book that his second game against Anderssen ‘would be discreditable to two third-rate players of a coffee-house’, and culminating in Fischer’s dismissal of Emanuel Lasker as ‘a coffee-house player’ in 1964. The words of Georg Marco will be found too: he considered that the game Pettersson v Nimzowitsch, Barmen, 1905 was ‘played in the worst coffeehouse style’.

In that game, the spectacle of Nimzowitsch replying to the Ruy López with 3...f5 may spark our interest in early analysis of that opening/defence/gambit/counter-gambit (commonly named after either of two players who died within a couple of months of each other, C.F. von Jaenisch and A.K.W. Schliemann).

To take Jaenisch as an example, Google Books painlessly leads to a run of Le Palamède. In the December 1847 issue, Jaenisch contributed a lengthy article (pages 530-560) on 1 e4 e5, which he termed ‘Le début royal’. Beginning on page 538 he analyzed the ‘very interesting’ move 3...f5, with four options for White’s fourth move: d4, exf5, Bxc6 and d3. He explained on page 538 that he was temporarily holding back from readers of Le Palamède his suggestion of a winning method for White, but that December 1847 issue marked the abrupt end of the periodical’s run.

Again thanks to Google Books it can be seen how Jaenisch resolved the difficulty. In 1848 an abridged version of his original article was published in the Chess Player’s Chronicle (pages 216-221, 248-253 and 274-279). The move 3...f5 was examined on pages 220-221 and 248-249. In the 1849 volume (pages 362-366) Jaenisch provided a further article, incorporating the analysis intended for Le Palamède. (See too pages 313-315 and 344-345 of the Deutsche Schachzeitung, 1848.)

Leaving aside the awkward question of whether somebody nowadays writing a book on 3...f5 is likely to take account of Jaenisch’s detailed articles, we conclude these random musings with a curiosity highlighted by him on page 363 of the 1849 Chess Player’s Chronicle, where he gave a line which ...

‘... exhibits in the theory of regular openings the unique example of a triple pawn’.

Analysis after 11...bxc6

Jaenisch’s analysis continued this line to move 27.

12024. Cramling v Pérez

Jon Ludvig Hammer is one of the best commentators on YouTube and Twitch, blending lucidity with dry whimsy.

During his live commentary on the seventh-round women’s match between Sweden and Paraguay at the Budapest Olympiad on 18 September 2024, he discussed this position (Pia Cramling v Jennifer Pérez), starting at about 4:03:30 in the transmission:

White has played 46 Rb7-c7, and Black resigned.

Instead of surrendering, why not produce some fireworks with 46...Qa6 47 Rxd7+ Kh8 48 Qh6 (threatening mate on the move) 48...Qxf1+ 49 Kxf1 Rc1 mate?

Hammer gave the answer: 49...Rc1 is not mate.

12025. Mate in 90 moves (C.N.s 10035 & 10061)

C.N. 10061 (see also How Many Moves Ahead?) showed page 266 of the 1 December 1947 [sic] issue of Chess World, from an article by Lajos Steiner:

In the Bakay composition, Lindsay Ridland (Edinburgh) points out a motif which secures Black a draw: 10…Bb8 11 Rxb8 Kf2 12 Rf8+ Ke1.

12026. Chess and poker

From page 406 of the September 1979 BCM (Quotes and Queries item 3986 by Kenneth Whyld):

‘The mention of Franklin Knowles Young (1857-1931) reminds me of a bon mot which may be new to readers. Young wrote several weird chess books which no doubt deceived military theoreticians into believing that they understood chess. His fellow American, Clarence Seaman Howell (1881-1936) wrote of Young’s “theories of that vague and dreamy and word-opulent character which abound in art, but are unwholesome in chess”. This led to a challenge to a duel over the chess-board. “As to the matter of stakes”, said Young, “you can put your money in your pocket. When I play for money I play poker.” Howell said “I admire your wisdom in preferring to back your luck rather than your skill.”’

Two points stand out: the satisfying chess-poker quip and the troubling absence of any source for anything.

For a documented account, page 199 of the November 1901 issue of Checkmate is the first port of call:

The account of the Pillsbury-Barry controversy was the sequel to what had appeared on pages 182-183 of the October 1901 issue of the Canadian magazine:

Acknowledgement for the Checkmate scans: the Cleveland Public Library.

Below is the letter from Howell to Young as published in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 22 September 1901, page 32:

Subsequent editions of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle included these items with the chess and poker comments:

29 September 1901, page 20

20 October 1901, page 23

None of this explains why K. Whyld indicated that the words ‘theories of that vague and dreamy and word-opulent character which abound in art, but are unwholesome in chess’ were written by Howell and led to the challenge.

The BCM item contained no reference to Emanuel Lasker, yet it was the world champion who wrote the following in his column on page 6 of the Manchester Evening News, 13 November 1901:

Tailpiece: the Lasker column was mentioned by John Roycroft on page 909 of the October 1996 issue of EG:

In an uncharacteristic mistake, the final section, ‘The Retort Courteous’, in the Manchester Evening News was apparently misinterpreted by EG as being Lasker’s answers to two correspondents.

12027. EG

In any list of the greatest chess periodicals, EG, founded by John Roycroft in 1965, commands a high position. The run is freely available online.

12028. Anderssen v Schallopp

Alan Smith (Stockport, England) reports that Chess Archaeology provides a link to the third volume (1887) of Brüderschaft. The periodical, edited by Schallopp and Heyde, published, at intervals from page 104 onwards, 14 games between Anderssen and Schallopp, few of which are commonly seen today.

12029. A pawn

An item on page 153 of the July 1912 American Chess Bulletin will be added to Chess and War:

‘An incident of the Boer War

P.A. Hatchard of Albany, NY favors us with the following touching incident from the Boer war:

Following one of the many engagements that took place in this war, when the usual rounds were made to ascertain the number of the killed and wounded, there was found placed on the knapsack of one of the former a single chess pawn, the wounded man having evidently withdrawn it from the box he carried and placed it in that conspicuous position ere he succumbed. Many papers at that period commented on this simple act as being a silent interpreter of the poor soldier’s thoughts, comparing himself to a lowly pawn in the great and terrible game of war.’

12030. Thousand Islands, 1897

This photograph was published on page 129 of the August 1897 American Chess Magazine:

Larger version and detail of the front row

We see no caption in the American Chess Magazine, but as mentioned on page 408 of the first of two volumes on Pillsbury by Nick Pope (see the end of our article Harry Nelson Pillsbury), those seated nearest to the camera are Borsodi, Hanham, Pillsbury, Lipschütz, Pieczonka, Steinitz and Napier.

An Albert Pieczonka webpage shows another photograph from the same location.

Page 148 of the August 1897 American Chess Magazine has the group portrait given in C.N. 5550, and the following is on page 149:

Larger version

The above images have been provided by the Cleveland Public Library.

12031. Letters and numbers

Concerning Letters and Numbers in Chess Problems, Michael McDowell (Westcliff-on-sea, England) writes:

‘The composition on pages 22-23 of A.C. White’s 1909 book Memories of My Chessboard (Stroud, 1909) remains one of my favourite letter problems, not least because there are no pieces used simply to fill in the shape. He was probably still 16 when he composed it.’

12032. Auguste d’Orville

Auguste d’Orville (1804-64) was described on page 529 of Le Palamède, December 1847 as ‘le maître des maîtres en fait de problèmes’, yet he currently has a Wikipedia entry in only French, German, Italian and Latvian.

The online availability of Some problems by Auguste d’Orville by John Beasley (1940-2024) is drawn to our attention by Michael McDowell. See under ‘Problems’ in ‘Orthodox Chess’.

12033. Ordinal numbers

When and where did the practice arise of referring to world chess champions with ordinal numbers, at least until the 1993 bifurcation? Kasparov is known as the 13th in the lineage, but did writers in 1972, for instance, see any reason to describe Spassky and Fischer as the 10th and 11th?

12034. Images

If we received a nominal sum every time a scanned image from chesshistory.com was misappropriated and viewed on YouTube, Wikipedia, X/Twitter, Facebook, chess.com, or other websites and outlets, we could single-handedly offer to fund future world championship matches.

See Copying.

12035. Samuel Reshevsky’s birth-date

C.N. 11994 invited readers to imagine themselves as the editor of a chess quotations anthology faced with handling a remark attributed, in various wordings, to both Tarrasch and Tartakower. Now, let readers see themselves as the editor of a single-volume chess encyclopaedia and having to decide what date of birth to give in the entry on Samuel Reshevsky.

The natural course may be to follow Jeremy Gaige’s Chess Personalia (Jefferson, 1987) and take the precaution of also checking the privately circulated 1994 edition:

‘26 November 1911’ is in both editions, but the encyclopaedist may worryingly recall an article by Andrew Soltis on pages 10-11 of the August 1992 Chess Life:

From C.N. 1943:

On page 10 of the August 1992 Chess Life Andy Soltis wrote that Reshevsky had told a number of chessplayers that he was born in 1909, and not 1911 as commonly believed.

Page 202 of Kings, Commoners and Knaves added a footnote:

However, in an interview with Hanon Russell in August 1991, Reshevsky insisted that he had indeed been born in 1911.

C.N. 11199 reverted to the subject:

... a claim emerged in the early 1990s that Samuel Reshevsky was born in 1909 and not, as commonly accepted, in 1911.

The matter is discussed by Bruce Monson in an article about Reshevsky on pages 46-55 of the 1/2019 New in Chess.

Here, we quote the start of Monson’s investigation of the birth-date matter (page 51):

‘But in the 1990s other information started percolating to the surface, no doubt in the wake of Sammy’s death on 4 April 1992. In the August 1992 Chess Life Andy Soltis revealed that Reshevsky had told a number of chessplayers that he was actually born in 1909 and not in 1911. Unfortunately, Soltis did not identify these individuals. However, it is plausible. Reshevsky was known on occasion to inadvertently spill the beans about other “secrets” from his past, such as the assertion that he had never studied chess as a child, which is simply not true, only to later try to shove the genie back in the bottle.’

Difficult to summarize, Monson’s article is important and should be read in full. It contains both documentation and speculation, marked as such. One image is a Łódź registration card dated 1919 which indicates that Samuel Reshevsky was born in 1909 (with no exact date). Using this and other materials and inferences, Monson wrote on page 53 of the New in Chess article:

‘Conclusion: Reshevsky’s birthday should – at the bare minimum – be adjusted to 26 November 1909. And in all probability his actual date of birth was 26 May 1909, adding an additional six months to his age.’

What, then, should our hypothetical encyclopaedist put in the Reshevsky entry?

Andrew Soltis has a new book out, a chess memoir entitled Deadline Grandmaster (Jefferson, 2024). Page 246, which can be viewed online, includes the following:

Some obvious questions:

1. ‘In Chess Life I wrote that Samuel Reshevsky was born two years before he claimed.’ Where in Chess Life? Certainly not on page 10 of the August 1992 issue, where, as shown above, Soltis mentioned the 1909 date merely as a possibility derived from hearsay.

2. ‘I was accused of falsely maligning Reshevsky.’ By whom, where and when?

3. ‘His birth record surfaced more than a decade later and confirmed I was right.’ Where and when? And more than a decade later than what?

4. The Deadline Grandmaster text shown above ends with a superscript 7. This leads to the ‘Chapter Notes’, where, on page 356, note 7 reads (in full):

‘New in Chess, Issue 1, 1999.’

Why put that? Issue 1, 1999 of New in Chess has nothing about Reshevsky’s date of birth.

Addition on 2 October 2024:

From Marek Soszynski (Birmingham, England):

‘I believe I was the first to discover and publish evidence that Reshevsky was born in 1909, which I presented in my book The Great Reshevsky: Chess Prodigy and Old Warrior (Forward Chess, 2018). Bruce Monson briefly references my findings in his article, and explained to me at the time that the brevity was due to editorial cuts by New in Chess. My later book, Rare and Ruthless Reshevsky (MarekMedia, 2023), does not revisit the birthdate issue.’

12036. Harry Golombek at university

In the English-language edition of Wikipedia, the entry on Harry Golombek currently states, for unclear reasons, that he studied ‘philology at King’s College, London’.

Our feature article on him quotes the following:

• ‘Golombek went from Wilson’s Grammar to London University, though there is no record of his having completed his degree.’ (William Hartston);


• ‘Golombek also began, but did not complete, a general degree at King’s College, London, leaving in 1932.’ (W.D. Rubinstein);


• ‘Golombek enjoyed a superlative gift for conveying the drama of battles on the chessboard, elevating chess commentary to the literary level of the Icelandic epic sagas which he had studied for his Doctorate.’ (Raymond Keene).

We are grateful to Gemma Hollman (the Senior Archives Assistant, Libraries & Collections at King’s College, London), who has searched the student slip books, the main source for student records, and has sent us the entry for Harry Golombek:

Larger version

It states that Golombek was registered for a Bachelor of Arts degree (Latin, English, French and History) from 1930 to 1932. He failed both years.

12037. Brad Darrach v Bobby Fischer

Brad Darrach and the Dark Side of Bobby Fischer summarizes the dispute about Darrach’s book Bobby Fischer vs. the Rest of the World (New York, 1974) on pages 299-300 of the May 1975 Chess Life & Review, a dispute which concerned three pieces in the New York Times Book Review:

• 13 October 1974, page 6: a review by D. Keith Mano of the Brad Darrach and George Steiner books on the 1972 Spassky v Fischer match;

• 17 November 1974, page 59: a letter to the Editor from Burt Hochberg, which is reproduced in the May 1975 Chess Life & Review;

• 23 February 1975, pages 41-42: a letter to the Editor from Brad Darrach in response to Hochberg. Extracts were reproduced, and disputed, by Hochberg in the May 1975 Chess Life & Review.

See also the many references to Darrach indexed in Bobby Fischer and His World by John Donaldson (Los Angeles, 2020). These include, on page 493, a brief comment that Darrach’s above-mentioned letter was ‘the only public response by Darrach after the book’s publication’.

Donaldson added:

‘Darrach shows no feelings of remorse in his lengthy defense to charges by Frank Brady and Burt Hochberg that he betrayed Bobby’s confidence and put words in his mouth. Nor does he comment about breaking his agreement with Fischer.’

It should, however, be noted that such charges did not appear in the Hochberg letter to which Darrach was replying.

We add here some significant passages in Darrach’s letter (sent from Madison, CT, USA) in the New York Times Book Review which were not quoted in Chess Life & Review:

• ‘The world of chess is like the Chinese court in the story of “The Emperor’s New Clothes”. The Emperor, Bobby Fischer, wanders about in a strange condition but nobody dares to say what everybody can see. In private, chess people tell grotesque or funny stories about their encounters with Mr Fischer; in public, they butter him up. “We don’t dare to offend Bobby”, one chess official told me. “He might quit the game, and chess without Bobby would be about as popular as tiddlywinks.”’

• ‘I take it Mr Hochberg thinks the subhumanity is overstressed in the book. I can only say it was overstressed in the man I wrote about.’

• ‘But Mr Hochberg will say I imply interpretations and judgements of Mr Fischer in my choice of incidents. I can only say I tried to let the events speak for themselves. If I have anywhere redressed reality, it is only to omit dozens of scenes which, in aggregate, would have made Mr Fischer seem weird beyond belief – as in fact he sometimes was.’

• ‘During the 13 months before the Reykjavik match, on assignments from Life Magazine, I visited Bobby, on the average, twice a week, usually for five or six hours at a stretch; sometimes I saw him every day for eight or ten days in a row; when I did not see him we spoke by telephone sometimes five or six times a week. I saw him in New York, in Buenos Aires, at his training camp in the Catskills. I saw him in a hundred moods and circumstances – happily scoffing up platefuls of Chinese food, terrified in the back seat of a small plane, red-eyed with rage as he kicked a photographer in the shins, laughing as he romped with a collie in the open pampas, guffawing at Red Skelton on TV in a New York hotel room, casually playing fast chess in an East Side steak house as he tunneled into a two-inch thick New York Cut, lying limp with a bad cold in a stuffy little cell at Grossinger’s.

  In Iceland, as the book makes clear, I saw him every day and often most of the night for more than two months.’

• ‘If my “viewpoint is severely limited” I’d like to see the man who could stick with Mr Fischer long enough to develop a broader one.’

• ‘Mr Hochberg is apparently interested in what the match revealed about Mr Fischer’s chess; I am more interested in what the match revealed about Mr Fischer.

  It revealed, among other things, such murderous force that I find myself smiling at Mr Hochberg’s attempts to protect Mr Fischer from my book. The only thing Mr Fischer needs to be protected from is Mr Fischer. Drifting in fantasies, chased by terrors, rigidified by pride, impelled to self-destruction, he will be very lucky if he can survive his own character long enough to defend his title against Anatoly Karpov. If he can beat that truly formidable young Russian, we may begin to believe he belongs with the supreme masters, Steinitz and Lasker and Botvinnik, who attained the pinnacle and held it. If he welshes on the match he will be remembered as a half-mad maverick who could produce great games and even great years, but lacked the will and the principle to sustain a great career.’

12038. Davide Nastasio (C.N. 11979)

Below is one of the examples of copying recorded in C.N. 11979:

The ChessBase contributor Davide Nastasio has been lifting a huge number of C.N. photographs (about 80 in the past week alone), without credit, acknowledgement or authorization, for his personal X/Twitter page.

Despite that item, posted on 28 January 2024, Mr Nastasio has refused to stop his misappropriation. Indeed, on a single recent day, 30 September 2024, he put online over 20 of our images.

12039. Verendel

It is always a pleasure to acknowledge chess publishers with high production standards. A newcomer is Verendel Publishing:

12040. Lady Jane Carew

One of the quotes under the heading ‘Longevity’ in C.N. 4789 was from page 479 of the December 1901 BCM:

‘Death of Centenarian Lady Chessplayer. – The Liverpool Daily Post of 15 November records the death of Jane Lady Carew, at the age of 104. The deceased lady was the grandmother of the present Lord Carew. She was married the year after Waterloo, and had been a widow nearly 50 years. Her active memory included the whole of the reigns of George IV, William IV and Victoria, the period during which George III could not control the affairs of Great Britain and, of course, the opening of the present era. ... Until she had passed her 100th birthday she played a capital game of chess ...’

From John Townsend (Wokingham, England):

‘“It is said that the oldest Chess-player in the world is Dowager Lady Carew, who was born in 1798.”

This uncorroborated statement appeared on page 684 of Digest: Review of Reviews Incorporating The Literary Digest, in 1901, the year of her death. Various writers mention that Lady Jane Carew was a strong chessplayer. One complimentary description appeared in the Cheltenham Examiner (20 November 1901, page 6):

“In middle age she was, for a lady, an exceptionally strong player.”

A local newspaper, the Waterford Standard (16 November 1901, page 3), was a little more restrained, referring to her as “formerly a chess player of more than average strength”.

In an article in the Dublin Evening Herald (16 November 1901, page 9) J.A. Porterfield Rynd mentioned Lady Carew’s recollections on the subject of slow play:

“During the last 50 years of her life she had seen in force the sand-glass and clock mechanism for regulating the speed of moving; and for the antecedent period the old lady had many quaint stories recounting the immoderate slowness of ancient moving. From the case of a man who, in desperate condition consumed hours and days over a single move, and, when asked why he didn’t move, replied: “Because I should lose” – to the case of St Amant tiring out Staunton (the English slow-coach), she seemed to remember almost every notable instance of excessive slowness. She had, of course, met examples of the opposite kind like that of our still lamented Mr Thos. P. Mason whose average time for a game was under five minutes.”

The source of Lady Carew’s information is not known. Staunton’s second, Lieutenant Harry Wilson, claimed to have measured the length of the players’ cogitations and found St Amant the slower. (See, for example, Wilson’s letter to the Chess Player’s Chronicle, volume 5, 1845, pages 148-149.) It is unusual to read of St Amant “tiring out Staunton”, especially since the latter won the match by no small margin. One wonders if she or the author may have confused St Amant with Elijah Williams, the “Bristol sloth” who, according to one report, “wore out Staunton”.

Lady Jane Carew made her own special contribution to longevity by living in three centuries. According to G.E. Cokayne’s The Complete Peerage, 1910-1959, which is widely regarded as the most accurate of the peerage works, and certainly the most voluminous (13 volumes in 14), she was born during the month of December 1798 and died on 12 November 1901. Thus, she attained the advanced age of 102, and not 103 or 104, as are sometimes incorrectly claimed. Yet a record of her baptism or birth in a parish register remains to be discovered.

Jane Catherine Cliffe came of military stock on both sides, being the daughter of Major Anthony Cliffe, of Ross, and Frances Deane, the daughter of Colonel Joseph Deane; they had been married on 16 December 1795. After her death, the Adelaide Observer of 16 November 1901 (page 26) reported as follows:

“During the insurrection in Ireland in 1798, the year of Lady Carew’s birth, her father, Mjr Cliffe, remained to take his part in quelling it, while his wife and father fled to England – Haverfordwest – where the baby was born.”

An Australian writer may perhaps be excused for placing Haverfordwest (Wales) in England, and the statement is otherwise correct. Although Holyhead is given as her birthplace in some sources, Haverfordwest is confirmed as her native place by a letter accompanying Biographical notes on Lady Jane Carew (1798-1901) made by C. Davies Gilbert, of Trelissick, her grandson, 1901. Both items are deposited at the Cornwall Record Office (ref. DG/148/1 & 2).

Her married name became Carew when she tied the knot with Robert Shapland Carew, son of Robert Shapland Carew and Anne Pigott, on 16 November 1816 and, after her husband was elevated to the peerage as first Baron Carew on 13 June 1834, she was styled Baroness Carew. They had four children together, including the second Baron Carew, Robert Shapland Carew. She became the Dowager Lady Carew after her husband’s death in 1856.

For many decades, including most of her widowhood, she resided at Woodstown, in the county of Waterford. This was particularly close to Dunmore, in the Bay of Waterford, which, in an article about chess in Ireland, Howard Staunton had identified as “ ... the only spot where real Chess could be met with ...” (Chess Player’s Chronicle, volume 4, 1844, page 147), and, even though she was not mentioned by name, it seems likely that this circle of players was familiar to her. However, Staunton added that, after the departure of Captain Evans, the circle “fell to pieces and was dispersed”. An important product of the school was Sir John Blunden, who became one of the strongest amateur players in Ireland. Charles French Smith, opponent and contemporary of H.E. Bird, was born at Waterford, circa 1828, according to the 1851 census.

The Dublin Evening Mail of 13 November 1901 (page 2) indicates that another focus of her attention was local education, “to which she was a liberal contributor, several schools in her neighbourhood being maintained by her assistance”.

On 15 January 1898 the Wicklow People (page 5) noted that, although she had been confined to her room for some years past, she was in excellent health, read small print without the aid of spectacles, and played “a game of chess every evening before going to bed”.

A writer in Notes and Queries (Series 9, volume X, 2 August 1902, page 92) included the following note on Carew pronunciation:

“I asked the Hon. Mrs P. B. (daughter of the late centenarian Lady Jane Carew ... who did not dance at the Waterloo ball, and whose parents fled to Haverfordwest, not Holyhead, as the newspapers stated) how she pronounced her family name, and she rendered it rather a trisyllable, in accord with the ancient spelling in the public records – Cariou, temp. Hen. II; Karrieu, temp. Ric. I.; Carrio, temp. John; and Karreu, temp. Ed. I.”

I would like to acknowledge with thanks the help received from Brian Denman, of Sussex, England, who kindly pointed out to me the existence of several of the newspaper articles and Biographical notes on Lady Jane Carew (1798-1901).’

12041. The initiative

Donald Whitlock (Solihull, England) raises the subject of the initiative in chess, and we seek early appearances of the term, with a quest for the best definition.

‘The player who completes his development first is said to have the initiative, because he is thus able to start making blunders while his opponent is still occupied in bringing out his men’ is a remark given in C.N. 1858 from page 14 of “Among These Mates” by Chielamangus (Sydney, 1939).

With that out of the way, we add that in a lecture at the Club de Comunicaciones de Prado in Cuba on 25 May 1932 Capablanca said:

‘In general, when developing his game White should aim to maintain the initiative, for the initiative is White’s only advantage in having the first move. It should not be abandoned unless compensation is obtained. This compensation may be a pawn, the smallest material gain, or it may be an extremely strong position which safeguards the game against the opponent’s attack, however strong. In other cases White must maintain the initiative, which means maintain the attack. Black, for his part, must, so to term it, restrict himself to marking time, trying to take the initiative in his turn. The outcome of the game depends on it because the player who calls the tune has all the advantages and, except if he makes a mistake, all the winning chances.’

‘Initiative’ is the same word in English, French and German, which should assist in finding early occurrences. From page 45 of Kieseritzky’s book Cinquante parties jouées au Cercle des Echecs et au Café de la Régence (Paris, 1846):

‘Les Noirs commencent l’attaque, parce que les Blancs n’ont pas pris l’initiative.’

12042. Capablanca’s Endgame Technique

In a welcome initiative, New in Chess is ensuring that potential buyers of Capablanca’s Endgame Technique by Alex Colovic will not expect historical accuracy. Two helpful measures have been to post online not only the Preface, with its many elementary errors (including two on page 9 with ‘He died on 7 March 1942 at the age of 54’), but also a self-sabotaging podcast interview.

12043. Figurehead romanticism

Much writing on chess history is wishful thinking or name-dropping, but careful authors sidestep the trap of what we propose to call ‘figurehead romanticism’. This includes, for example, claims or assumptions that most of the contents of Lasker’s Chess Magazine and Capablanca-Magazine were written by Lasker and Capablanca themselves. (The case of the International Chess Magazine is different, since Steinitz specified that it was largely a solo enterprise.)

A similar practice was mentioned in C.N. 8827: attributing a book by Tartakower and du Mont to Tartakower only. When there is assisted authorship (such as Kasparov books involving Donald Trelford or Mig Greengard, both of whom receive a ‘with’ credit), some writers need no second bidding to prefer without; they mention Kasparov alone. We can see a case for that in brief bibliographies, but not in reviews or discussions of the book.