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.

Addition on 22 October 2024:

ChessBase has informed us that Davide Nastasio is now a former ChessBase author.

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:

George Walker – Alexander McDonnell
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.

Addition on 22 October 2024:

ChessBase has informed us that Davide Nastasio is now a former ChessBase author.

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.

12044. Miron James Hazeltine

Further to the mention of Brevity and Brilliancy in Chess by M.J. Hazeltine (New York, 1866) in our feature article on Charles Henry Stanley, the Cleveland Public Library has provided the following from one of its copies of the book:

12045. John William Showalter (C.N. 4484)

We are also grateful to the Cleveland Public Library for the obituary of Jackson Whipps Showalter’s brother, John William, on page 312 of the January 1899 American Chess Magazine:

12046. Jackson Whipps Showalter

C.N.s 5706, 6972, 11074 and 11719 have discussed, inconclusively, J.W. Showalter’s year of birth. From C.N. 5706 (posted on 9 August 2008):

Kevin Marchese (Canal Winchester, OH, USA) informs us that he is writing a book on Jackson Whipps Showalter, with the assistance of some of the master’s relatives, and that the work will show that Showalter was born on 5 February 1859 (and not 5 February 1860, as previously believed). His exact place of birth still requires investigation.

Nothing much more has been made available to C.N., and it is unclear why the English-language Wikipedia article on Showalter and his World Chess Hall of Fame page state unequivocally and without evidence that he was born in 1859. The entry for Showalter in Jeremy Gaige’s 1994 edition of Chess Personalia is reproduced in C.N. 11719. It states that Showalter was born in Minerva, KY on 5 February 1860.

We have now received the following from John Townsend (Wokingham, England):

‘When Jackson Whipps Showalter died on 5 February 1935 in Scott County, Kentucky, a death certificate was issued, an image of which can be viewed on familysearch.org, whose help is acknowledged with thanks. The date of birth on the certificate, in Mason County, Kentucky, was entered as 5 February 1860. He was a farmer, aged 75, and the cause of death was “Carcinoma of Rectum”. His parents were named as Freeman Showalter (born in Pennsylvania) and Margaret R. Whipps (born in Mason County, Kentucky).

In the United States Census of 1900, in Scott County, Kentucky, he is named as J.W. Showalter. Misidentification is impossible because he is described as a “chess player”, born in Kentucky. The 1900 census specified the month and year of birth: February 1860. His approximate age was stated to be 40. His father, B.F. Showalter, was still alive then, aged 89, born in Pennsylvania, and his father was born in Virginia.

These two primary sources from official documents are consistent.

Other censuses give only the approximate age, and allowance should be made for a year or two either side. Showalter has not been found in the 1860 or 1890 censuses. The following table summarizes the age information traced in the various census returns:

1860: Not found
1870: Age 11
1880: Age21
1890: Not found
1900: Born February 1860, age 40
1910: Age 50
1920: Age 60
1930: Age 71.

Regarding Kentucky births, information on ancestry.com, whose help is also acknowledged with thanks, suggests that two sons of the chessplayer’s father and mother were born at Bracken, Kentucky. Neither can be identified as Jackson Whipps Showalter – at least, not at this stage. One is “A.J. Showalter”, while the other child is not named, both having been born alive. The dates of these appear on ancestry.com as February 1859 and February 1858 respectively. However, the years do not seem to be visible as part of the birth-dates, familysearch.org giving February 1860 and February 1859 for the same two births. On ancestry.com I found lists of the years and counties covered, including those for Bracken:

Bracken: 1854-59, 1861, 1875-76, etc.
Mason: 1855-59, 1861, 1874, etc.

This suggests that there is a gap in the record indexes for 1860, the most likely year of birth of Jackson Whipps Showalter (according to the two primary sources discussed above).

A secondary source, the Chess Budget, 11 November 1925, pages 44-45, was quoted in C.N. 11719 as supporting the birth-date of 5 February 1860.

In conclusion, there is strong evidence that Jackson Whipps Showalter was born on 5 February 1860. If there is a case for 5 February 1859, let us see the details of the evidence.’

See also the feature article Jackson Whipps Showalter, posted on 19 October 2024.

12047. Grimshaw v Steinitz

ChessBase has a custom of undiscerningly reproducing, with agreement, articles from the UK magazine CHESS, the latest case being a piece by Neil Hickman (CHESS, October 2024, pages 38-40). Much of it reads like an uncredited boiling-down of our feature article Grimshaw v Steinitz.

12048. Raymond Keene

On 13 October 2024 we posted this quiz question in Cuttings:

What percentage of the body of Raymond Keene’s contribution to ‘TheArticle’ on 13 October 2024 is more or less a chunk copied from his 29 May 2021 piece?

The answer is 57%.

That case of sui-copying stands in Cuttings alongside instances of plagiarism:

On 1 June 2024 we pointed out on the feedback form on the website of ‘TheArticle’ that Raymond Keene’s article on Rhoda A. Bowles ‘copies a huge amount of text from someone else’s article of five years ago. The copying even includes ‘each others houses’ instead of ‘each other’s houses’.’

Despite that ransacking by Mr Keene of a chess.com article and appropriation from other online sources, the BCM considered the Rhoda A. Bowles article worthy of nine pages and front-cover status in its July 2024 issue:

The nine pages are shown below, with red diagonal lines added by us to mark those parts, all uncredited, that anyone could readily copy-paste from other people’s work available online. We have not marked the last two pages, which quote texts by Jacqueline Eales and Susan Polgar.

The pages are shown here in a small format, in order to protect the copyright of Raymond Keene, OBE, Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V.

12049. Brad Darrach v Bobby Fischer (C.N. 12037)

John Donaldson (Berkeley, CA, USA) has sent us a copy of a telegram from Brad Darrach to Bobby Fischer:

Larger version

‘Robert J. Fischer
Hotel Loftleidir
Reykjavik, Iceland

Dear Bobby,

I want to thank you for the series of exclusive interviews I have had with you, and, through your good offices, with your team members, during the past several months.

As we have discussed, I affirm my agreement that I will not use this material for a book or for any magazine article without first obtaining your written approval. Of course, my present series of articles for Life Magazine is exempted from the need for this prior approval.

I look forward to a long and close relationship with you.

Sincerely,

Brad Darrach’

The text was given on page 492 of our correspondent’s book Bobby Fischer and His World (Los Angeles, 2020), introduced as follows:

‘Darrach’s duplicity is documented in a telegram sent during the match.’

Wanted: confirmation of the exact date on which Darrach sent it.

Addition on 2 November 2024:

It seems likely to us that the telegram was sent on 4 September 1972, a tentative conclusion also reached by Rudy Bloemhard (Apeldoorn, the Netherlands):

See too Brad Darrach and the Dark Side of Bobby Fischer.

12050. W.H. Cozens

C.N. 11208 described W.H. Cozens as ‘one of the greatest of all chess book reviewers’, and, by way of example, a glimpse is given here of his contribution on pages 204-205 of the May 1973 BCM, where he examined Attack and Defence in Modern Chess Tactics by Pachman and Schönheit der Kombination by Golz and Keres.

‘Here are two books concerned with the real meat of chess – the middle game’, he began, and then briefly traced the background of each work, including the following:

‘But the reader will be wanting to know how much is Golz and how much Keres. The answer is that about 90% is Kurt Richter! He died three years ago but the style remains unmistakable; his fans (who are many and by no means confined to Germany) will be delighted to have this last unexpected collection of his work. Golz has lovingly put together a mass of material and arranged it in a loose sequence to form a highly un-systematic course in chess tactics. Keres’ contribution is a 12-page appreciative essay on Richter – his specialities in the openings, his achievements over the board and his style of annotation.’

Cozens then compared Pachman and Richter:

‘Pachman is a pedagogue – one of the greatest: he understands chess. Richter is an enthusiast: he loves chess. Pachman marshals his material and teaches us point by point. Richter merely revels in it. He rambles: one thing reminds him of another and then another, each more remarkable than the one before.’

And, from the next paragraph:

‘In short, Pachman is primarily a teacher who, like all good teachers, is sometimes entertaining; whereas Richter is essentially an entertainer who, almost incidentally, contrives to be very instructive.’

After further information about the books’ content and layout, Cozens concluded:

‘If the present reviewer has given the impression that he prefers Richter he pleads guilty: but hastens to add that the choice must be a very personal one, depending on why you play chess anyway. Because you are good at it? Because you want to be better at it? Or just because you are hopelessly in love with it?’

12051. ISM

The term ‘intermediate source misattribution’ was proposed in C.N. 12017 for the practice whereby ‘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’.

An example from a dissertation (see also C.N. 9294) for the University of California, Santa Cruz, by Michael A. Hudson, Storming Fortresses: a Political History of Chess in the Soviet Union, 1917-1948:

As the academic approvers pored over page 162 (shown below), they were perhaps impressed that the breadth and depth of Michael A. Hudson’s research into chess in the Soviet Union from 1917 to 1948 even led him to an obscure Cuban publication from the mid-1920s and that, to help them pore more easily, he had even favoured them with an English version:

Alert academic approvers might have realized that, in reality, everything was within effortless clicking distance for Michael A. Hudson at Capablanca on Moscow, 1925. Our own English translation, first published in 1985, is adopted by him word for word, without any acknowledgement or other mention.

They might also have caught Michael A. Hudson’s use of the term ‘newspaper’ to describe the Revista Bimestre Cubana when, as the title itself indicates, it was a magazine published every two months.

12052. Ne5 against the French Defence

1 e4 e6 2 d4 d5 3 Nc3 dxe4 4 Nxe4 Nd7 5 Nf3 Ngf6 6 Nxf6+ Nxf6:

This opening occurred in Capablanca v Blanco, Havana, 1913, and White played 7 Ne5.

On page 26 of his tournament book, published the same year, Capablanca described the knight move as new and strong:

‘Nuevo, pero a mi juicio un golpe contundente para el negro que se ve imposibilitado de desarrollar su juego.’

In Chess Fundamentals (London, 1921) the Cuban wrote of 7 Ne5:

‘This move was first shown to me by the talented Venezuelan amateur, M. Ayala. The object is to prevent the development of Black’s queen’s bishop via QKt2, after P-QKt3, which is Black’s usual development in this variation. Generally it is bad to move the same piece twice in an opening before the other pieces are out, and the violation of that principle is the only objection that can be made to this move, which otherwise has everything to recommend it.’

Information is sought on Ayala. Page 193 of the 2015 McFarland edition of Miguel A. Sánchez’s work on Capablanca has an unsourced, unindexed reference to ‘a lesser known player such as the Venezuelan Martin Ayala’, who was named among those who ‘told the Cuban about new variations’.

Databases show that 7 Ne5 had been played before the Capablanca v Blanco game, and by Capablanca himself in a simultaneous game against R.H. Ramsey in Philadelphia on 6 January 1910:

1 e4 e6 2 d4 d5 3 Nc3 dxe4 4 Nxe4 Nd7 5 Nf3 Ngf6 6 Nxf6+ Nxf6 7 Ne5 Bd6 8 f4 O-O 9 Be3 Nd5 10 Bd2 c5 11 c3 cxd4 12 cxd4 b6 13 Bd3 Bb7 14 O-O Nf6 15 Bc3 Rc8 16 Qe2 Qe7 17 f5 Bd5 18 fxe6 fxe6 19 Rae1 Bb4 20 Qe3 Bxa2 21 Qh3 g6 22 Bxg6 Bxc3 23 bxc3 hxg6 24 Nxg6 Qg7 25 Nxf8 Rxf8 26 Rf3 Qh7 27 Qg3+ Qg7 28 Qe5 Nd7 29 Qxg7+ Kxg7 30 Rxf8 Nxf8 31 Ra1 Bc4 32 Rxa7+ Kg6 33 Kf2 Nh7 34 Ke3 Nf6 35 Kf4 Nd5+ 36 Ke5 Nxc3 37 g4 b5 38 h4 b4 39 Rc7 Bd5 40 Kf4 b3 41 h5+ Kh6 42 g5+ Kxh5 43 g6 b2 44 g7 b1(Q) 45 White resigns.

The game was published in James Elverson’s chess column on page 7 of the magazine section of the Philadelphia Inquirer of 23 January 1910:

Larger version

On Decoration Day, at the end of May 1909, 7 Ne5 was played in the board-one game between A.S. Meyer and A.K. Robinson in the match in Philadelphia between the Manhattan and Franklin chess clubs (American Chess Bulletin, July 1909, page 153).

Alekhine referred to Capablanca and Ne5 on page 203 of Gran Ajedrez (Madrid, 1947):

‘La jugada de Capablanca, 8 C5R, que ha estado de moda durante un cuarto de siglo, puede refutarse con 8...D4D! (el descubrimiento de Spielmann). Pero el blanco no necesita hacer tan exagerados esfuerzos para mantener la presión. Además de la jugada del texto, podría jugar 8 P3A, evitando por el momento la siguiente maniobra del negro.’

See also page 59 of 107 Great Chess Battles by A. Alekhine (Oxford, 1980). He was annotating the game Yanofsky v Dulanto from the 1939 International Team Tournament in Buenos Aires, but his reference to Capablanca and Spielmann was made in a position that occurred after 1 e4 e6 2 d4 d5 3 Nc3 Nf6 4 Bg5 dxe4 5 Nxe4 Nbd7 6 Nf3 Be7 7 Nxf6+ Nxf6 ...

... and had not arisen in the Capablanca v Blanco game, which, as shown earlier, reached this position:

Yanofsky v Dulanto had the additional moves 4 Bg5 and 6...Be7.

Regarding the value of 8 Ne5 and 7 Ne5 in the respective positions, Richard Forster (Winterthur, Switzerland) writes:

‘With bishops on g5/e7: 8 Ne5 is only very rarely seen and does not score well. The reply 8...Qd5 is the third or fourth choice of the computer. It was seen in two out of 26 games in my Megabase and should be good enough to equalize.

With bishops on c1/f8: 7 Ne5 is not the most popular but scores rather well (as do other moves) and has been used by Nepomniachtchi in 2023 and 2024. The reply 7...Qd5 is seldom played and is not among the computer’s top choices. It indicates that 8 Be2 gives White an advantage.’

As regards Spielmann’s connection with ...Qd5 in the French Defence, below is the first part of Euwe’s annotations to Spielmann v Petrov, Margate, 1938, published on pages 311-313 of CHESS, 14 May 1938:

From page 313:

Larger version

The scans from CHESS have been provided by the Cleveland Public Library.

Addition on 26 October 2024:

Euwe stated in CHESS that at Margate (April 1938) Spielmann rejected 7 Ne5 on account of 7...Qd5, but Leonard Barden (London) points out to us that in June 1938 Spielmann did play 7 Ne5, against Sir George Thomas in the Noordwijk tournament. The game began 1 e4 e6 2 d4 d5 3 Nc3 dxe4 4 Nxe4 Nd7 5 Nf3 Ngf6 6 Nxf6+ Nxf6 7 Ne5 Be7.

It was in the ninth round on 21 June 1938, as shown by, for instance, pages 34-35 of the Schaakwereld book on Noordwijk, 1938, published that year, and pages 76 and 79 of the (1971) volume in the Lachaga series.

12053. Exchange and trade

The French Defence is one of many openings with an ‘Exchange Variation’, and although the ungraceful term ‘Trade Variation’ may not catch on, ‘trade’ as a noun or verb is well established. Non-American traditionalists may instinctively avoid using ‘to trade pawns’ or ‘a rook trade’, perhaps even nostalgically recalling a note on page 63 of the February 1989 BCM in a game between Deep Thought and Walter Browne, where White played 19 Bh6:

‘Irresolution; presumably the idea was that Black would be forced to “trade” bishops at c6, to use a term Walter Browne and many US players like to use.’

After 19...Re8 20 Bd2 Na5 21 Ba4 Qd5 the BCM commented chipperly:

‘No trade of my beautiful bishop, thank you!’

Browne annotated his win on page 24 of the March 1989 Chess Life.

The only chess-related citation for ‘to trade’ in the online Oxford English Dictionary is inaccurate:

Early cases of winning or losing ‘the exchange’ were discussed in C.N.s 7208, 7211 and 7226. Below is the entry in the online Oxford English Dictionary:

From page 230 of The Game of Chess by S. Tarrasch (London, 1935):

‘But by exchanging the weaker knight for the stronger bishop, Black has gained a slight material or dynamic advantage. He has, as I often jokingly express it, won the “minor exchange”.’

The original text on pages 325-326 of Das Schachspiel (Berlin, 1931):

‘Aber Schwarz hat durch den Tausch des schwächeren Springers gegen den stärkeren Läufer einen kleinen materiellen oder wenigstens dynamischen Vorteil erlangt, er hat, wie ich mich scherzhaft auszudrücken pflege, die “kleine Qualität” gewonnen.’

The English edition, by G.E. Smith and T.G. Bone, did well to choose the word ‘minor’.

As regards French, ‘la petite qualité’ was used by Tartakower on page 77 of Bréviaire des échecs (Paris, 1934), in a sentence easy to misconstrue:

‘Bien que théoriquement un Fou et un Cavalier soient de force égale, il y a des connaisseurs qui insistent sur la longue portée du Fou et prétendent qu'il représente en comparaison avec un Cavalier “la petite qualité”.’

The translator of the English edition, A Breviary of Chess (London, 1937), was J. du Mont, and page 54 accurately gave:

‘Theoretically a knight is equal to a bishop; but some experts maintain that, owing to its longer range, to possess a bishop against a knight is to have won the “minor exchange”.’

12054. Sacrifices

Browsing in the online Oxford English Dictionary, we came to the noun ‘sac’, with this as the entry’s oldest citation:

‘A careful study of the position after the “sac” shows that White will win the opponent’s queen in return.’

That was on page 249 of the November 1965 Chess Life, the writer being Erich W. Marchand. For the verb, Google Books provides an old example, from page 104 of the June 1901 Checkmate. In the annotations to a Greco Counter-Gambit game between Stout and Mlotkowski in Philadelphia, ‘in the Mercantile Library cup tournament now in progress’, this position arose:

After 14 Nxf6+ Qxf6 the note reads:

‘Sacking pawn for development.’

Acknowledgement for the scan: Cleveland Public Library

In C.N. 415 W.H. Cozens wrote:

‘The verb to sac is with us; the participle sacing still gives one a jolt.’

That was in 1983. As also shown in Chess and the English Language, C.N. 1694 quoted from page 66 of Playing to Win by James Plaskett (London, 1988):

‘For the next half-dozen moves a cardinal consideration is the efficacy of possible “sacs-back” on d5.’

12055. To fidate

The online OED’s entry for the term ‘to fidate’ suggests the influence of H.J.R. Murray over the chess content:

‘Fidated’ has an entry in the 1984 and 1992 editions of the Oxford Companion to Chess and is being added to Unusual Chess Words.

12056. Horrwitz, Horwitz, Harrwitz, Horowitz ...?

Our latest feature article is Raking Bishops.

12057. Ayala (C.N. 12052)

Regarding the player named Ayala mentioned by Capablanca in Chess Fundamentals, Eduardo Bauzá Mercére (New York, NY, USA) notes page 42 of the February 1909 American Chess Bulletin:

Acknowledgement for the above images: Cleveland Public Library

Mr Bauzá Mercére has also provided the following cuttings about Martín Ayala:

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 27 January 1909, page 9

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 31 January 1909, section 2, page 6

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 4 February 1909, page 11

12058. First problem

Michael McDowell (Westcliff-on-sea, England) draws attention to his article on pages 418-419 of The Problemist, July 2008, in which he referred to the statement in American Chess-Nuts by E.B. Cook, W.R. Henry and C.A. Gilberg (New York, 1868) that a composition by C.H. Stanley (a self-mate in four) was the first chess problem printed in America (see also page v). It appeared in the first chess column, in Spirit of the Times dated 1 March 1845.

From American Chess-Nuts, page 365

12059. G.H.D. Gossip

On 29 October 2024 our feature article on Gossip was augmented by John Townsend with a note on Gossip’s death and on the spelling of one of his forenames (Hatfield or Hatfeild?). The ‘normal’ spelling (i.e. ie) was seen until the mid-1980s, when evidence grew in favour of ‘Hatfeild’. However, Mr Townsend’s note shows a mixed picture, and at present the safest full form may be ‘George Hatfeild/Hatfield Dingley Gossip’.

A detail of Gossip from the photograph (New York, 1893) shown in C.N. 9462:

12060. Media coverage

Having previously asked readers to imagine themselves as the editor of a chess quotations book (C.N. 11994) and of a single-volume chess encyclopaedia (C.N. 12035), we now invite them to assume the role of a mainstream journalist commissioned to produce a chess article on recent allegations of online cheating. Where to look for the essentials? Where to find output in which opinions, biased or not, do not leap-frog over facts?

The journalist may dive in at some random point proposed by Google, only to find barely comprehensible arguments deployed with links to barely comprehensible X/Twitter posts or YouTube videos, as various parties and partisans compete with declarations, interrogations, accusations and insinuations. But where are a placid, objectively formulated overview and chronology of how any given point was reached? In brief, where is the journalism?

This is not new. Nearly a decade ago, Nigel Short wrote in New in Chess about the differences between male and female chessplayers, and an outcry ensued, unhurriedly. If a journalist today seeks a reminder of the case, where to go? Should Google prove unhelpful, it may seem sensible to turn to a ‘standard’ source such as the Wikipedia entry on Short, but that fails too. It has 70 words on the affair and three endnotes, all three being links to ‘outcry’ articles by non-specialist writers in three UK newspapers, the Independent, the Guardian and the Daily Telegraph; all three articles, as it happens, were dated 20 April 2015. The New in Chess piece had been published about a month previously.

Wikipedia does not relate what Short had written in New in Chess, even though the full text was reproduced by ChessBase not long after the tumult began, and is still there. Nor does Wikipedia display awareness of Short’s follow-up article in New in Chess, which was, in part, a reply to the assertions in the three UK newspapers. The media had gorged themselves and, in terms of actual arguments, the second New in Chess article was, so to speak, even more ignored than the first one. Vive l’indifférence.

That was the shallow treatment of a controversy in 2015, and one looks in vain, even today, for a plain, factual account of it. How will the media of 2024 be judged in future years for their handling of the present cheating cacophony? Who will emerge with honour for showing care over facts and respect for fair play? Who will work hard to clarify the issues for the public’s benefit? And when will the process start?

Addition on 14 November 2024:

An example of how the public record may be skewed is provided by the reaction, or lack thereof, to Nigel Short’s follow-up article (‘A Beautiful Minefield’) on pages 36-37 of the 4/2015 New in Chess, where he wrote, for instance:

‘On 20 April an article appeared in The Daily Telegraph entitled “Nigel Short: Girls Just Don’t Have the Brains to Play Chess”. Never mind the fact I didn’t say that, it was a catchy headline to set me up as a misogynist pantomime villain. In extraordinary rapid succession came a whole series of similar articles, in The Guardian, The Times, The Independent, many with totally fabricated quotes and grotesque distortions – such as the Daily Mail’s “Women aren’t smart enough to play chess because the game requires logical thinking, says British Grandmaster”, despite me having said nothing at all about logic.’

C.N. 9344 quoted that rebuttal, but where else can it be found on the Internet? We see only one place, at the English Chess Forum, where, on 18 December 2020, Short reproduced the full text of ‘A Beautiful Minefield’.

12061. The Carlsbad pawn formation

Much information is available online about early specimens of the Carlsbad pawn formation (e.g. Pillsbury-Showalter, fifth match-game, 1898, and three games played at Carlsbad, 1923: Grünfeld v Bernstein, Teichmann v Bogoljubow and Maróczy v Spielmann), but when was that pawn structure first identified with the name ‘Carlsbad’? A glib answer would be ‘shortly after Carlsbad, 1923 or later on in the writings of Nimzowitsch or Kmoch’, but citations are lacking.

From page 9 of Middlegame Strategy with the Carlsbad Pawn Structure by Robert Leininger (Dallas, 1997):

And from page 14:

Acknowledgement for the above images: Cleveland Public Library

Wanted: more details about the origins of the term ‘Carlsbad pawn formation’, whether in the Soviet Union/Russia or elsewhere.

12062. The minority attack

Many games with the Carlsbad pawn formation lead to a ‘minority attack’, another term whose origins are of interest.

A basic explanation of the concept is on page 64 of Lessons in Chess Strategy by W.H. Cozens (London, 1968):

‘The power of the queen’s-side majority was first fully realized by Steinitz, who must be considered the father of scientific chess. And since the contact of two unequal pawn masses normally leads to the formation of a passed pawn from the larger mass, he held that it must be bad strategy to advance a minority against a majority – it would only hasten the creation of a hostile passed pawn. This eminently logical reasoning was accepted by his contemporaries and disciples with the unquestioning deference accorded to the logic of Aristotle in pre-Galileo times.

But the young players of the early twentieth century were a sceptical generation, who queried every dogma and demolished more than one. One of their heresies was to advance boldly with a queen’s-side minority against a majority. Admittedly, the result might be a passed pawn for the enemy, but whereas the passed pawn he would get if you waited for him to come at you would be a powerful candidate for promotion, the one he got out of your minority attack, they argued, would be backward, probably isolated, and an excellent target for rook attack on the open files – in fact, more of a liability than an asset.’

The term ‘minority attack’ became familiar in the late 1930s, and page 247 of the June 1939 BCM had a notable comment in its report on round seven (comprising five games) of that year’s Margate tournament:

‘This was a field day for the minority attack in the Queen’s Gambit. The three grand masters all played it and they all won. Flohr was rather lucky in that Miss Menchik with an equal game overlapped the time limit. The other two games were won on their merits.’

Those games were Keres v Najdorf and Capablanca v Golombek.

12063. Wikipedia

From Alan Slomson (Leeds, England):

‘In relation to your comments in C.N. 12060 about the inadequate Wikipedia entry about Nigel Short, it is worth noting that “Wikipedia is a free online encyclopedia, created and edited by volunteers around the world and hosted by the Wikimedia Foundation” as it describes itself.

Anyone can edit Wikipedia entries. If the accuracy of Wikipedia is a matter of concern, it is up to the community of chess historians to improve entries relating to chess history when they are felt to be inaccurate or inadequate.’

As regards the English-language entries on chess, there is a Wikipedia project page.

Prompted by Mr Slomson’s remarks, we have prepared a new feature article, Wikipedia and Chess.

12064. Alekhine and property (C.N. 2605)

A remark by Euwe in an interview (CHESS, September 1981, page 199):

‘Alekhine may have hoped the Germans would win because he owned several houses in Leningrad. As things went, he lost everything …’

Information about the Leningrad matter will be appreciated.

12065. A challenge

Which master was challenged to play a game as Black against 1 e4 e5 2 Ke2?

Simon Alapin (Deutsches Wochenschach, 7 January 1894)

The answer is Simon Alapin, in 1892, the challenger being Max Lange. No such game was played, but they did agree to contest one correspondence game, with Alapin required to play 1 e4 e5 2 Ne2.

Page 299 of Deutsches Wochenschach, 21 August 1892 had carried a letter from Alapin extolling 2 Ne2 and claiming that it should be named after him. Max Lange made unfavourable mention of this in a long article about chess theory on pages 257-264 of the September 1892 Deutsche Schachzeitung. On page 262 he suggested that 2 Ne2 deserved no more theoretical attention than 2 Ke2, which also blocks the king’s bishop and the queen.

It was not until the 7 January 1894 issue of Deutsches Wochenschach that Alapin related, on pages 4-10, what had happened during the interval of more than a year. Around the time of the September 1892 article, Max Lange had challenged him to a correspondence game in which he would take Black against Alapin’s 1 e4 e5 2 Ne2 and also proposed playing a game in which he, as White, would begin 1 e4 e5 2 Ke2 against Alapin, in order to ‘balance the chances’.

Alapin agreed only to the 1 e4 e5 2 Ne2 game, and stated that in the circumstances it became a matter of life or death. In addition to the exact dates when the game began and ended (see below), Alapin even published the reflection time: 37 days for White and 149 for Black, the remainder being postal time. Alapin then annotated the game, over six pages.

Simon Alapin – Max Lange
Correspondence, 23 September 1892 – 5 September 1893
Alapin’s Opening

1 e4 e5 2 Ne2 Nc6 3 d4 Qh4 4 d5 Bc5 5 Ng3 Nce7 6 Nd2 Qf6 7 f3 Qh4 8 Nb3 Bb6 9 d6 Nc6 10 c4 cxd6 11 Qxd6 Nf6

12 Kd1 Nh5 13 Nf5 Qd8 14 g4 g6 15 Ne3 Qf6 16 Qxf6 Nxf6 17 c5 Bd8 18 Nc4

18...d5 19 Nd6+ Ke7 20 g5 Nd7 21 exd5 Nb4 22 Bc4 Nxc5 23 Nxc5 Kxd6 24 Ne4+ Ke7 25 Bd2 a5 26 a3 Na6 27 d6+ Kf8 28 Bc3 h6 29 Bxe5 Rh7 30 Nf6 Bxf6 31 gxf6 Bd7 32 Rc1 Nb8 33 Bb5 Nc6 34 Re1 Rh8 35 Bxc6 Bxc6

36 Rxc6 bxc6 37 d7 Rd8 38 Bd6+ Kg8 39 Re7 g5 40 Kc2 Kh7 41 Kc3 Kg6 42 Kc4 Kxf6 43 Kc5 h5 44 Kxc6 Resigns.

The game was shown, from an undated scrapbook of Walter Penn Shipley’s, in C.N. 771 (see page 49 of Chess Explorations) with this concluding remark by Showalter in the New York Recorder:

‘It would be difficult indeed to laud too highly the masterly style in which Herr Alapin conducted his attack in this game, the more especially as applied to the latter half of it. Truly, correspondence chess is the best chess, after all.’

The date of Showalter’s column was 28 January 1894.

We show none of the nineteenth-century material here, given that it is available online (e.g. via Google Books or Chess Archaeology).

12066. Brad Darrach v Bobby Fischer (C.N. 12049)

Many virtually identical (agency) obituaries of Brad Darrach appeared in the US press, such as the following on page 8 of the Daily Times (Salisbury, MD) on 7 November 1997:

However brief, references to chess in the mainstream media traditionally have a factual mistake or two. In the penultimate paragraph above, 1976 should read 1974.

One broadcast by Darrach, on WELI 960, can be noted from that year, as listed on page 75 of the Bridgeport Post, 26 December 1974:

John Donaldson (Berkeley, CA, USA) informs us that he is continuing to investigate Brad Darrach’s Bobby Fischer vs. the Rest of the World (New York, 1974), and at this stage we quote the following from him:

‘The New York bookseller Fred Wilson, active since the 1970s, has mentioned to me that the book never sold particularly well among the chess community. He believes that it was marketed to the casual player who had taken up the game during the Fischer boom of the early 1970s. Anthony Saidy has told me that what most stood out to him after reading the book was Darrach’s habit of including himself in conversations where he was not present. Frank Brady has made the same observation. On the basis of how he and his family were portrayed, Saidy estimates that approximately 20% of the book was fabricated.’

We add some jottings of our own. Although published in mid-1974, the book was not mentioned in Chess Life & Review (apart from the January 1975 advertisement shown in our feature article) until the May 1975 issue, in which Fischer’s removal as world champion also happened to be reported. The book was listed as being on (direct) sale to USCF members only once, in the August 1975 issue (with a members’ discount of 70 cents). Fischer’s lawsuit was announced in the October magazine, and there are no sightings of the name Brad Darrach in Chess Life & Review in 1976.

It is of interest to note some of the attention that Bobby Fischer vs. the Rest of the World received in newspapers of the time.

In October 1974 an Associated Press report (sometimes attributed to Dan Berger, and with apparent input from Darrach) was published in dozens of US newspapers. On newspapers.com many appearances can be found by searching for this paragraph:

‘Fischer is the second American ever to hold the title, which must be contested every three years. The first was Alexander Alekhin in 1937.’

Few lengthy reviews have been found, but a notable critic of the book was R.E. Fauber (1936-2013). On page 41/9 of the Sacramento Bee, 23 March 1975 he observed:

‘Darrach is one of your usual kind of slick journalist types who were pampered in English 1a while in college. He happily quotes Fischer’s description of him as a “pretty awful” chessplayer. His ignorance of chess spills over onto every page of the book.

... If you like books about fearful hysterics and do not play chess well, you will love Darrach’s.’

If Darrach’s ignorance of chess ‘spills over onto every page of the book’, a few examples might be expected, but Fauber preferred generalities, as in the concluding paragraph:

‘In fairness to Darrach, he was up close for most of the drama of the Fischer-Spassky match, which he chronicles in the book. He seems a careful reporter, but his consummate ignorance of what competitive chess is about disqualifies the tone and connotative value of the book. If you must read it, get it at the library.’

Fauber returned to the book on page 23 of the 22 June 1975 edition of the same newspaper, writing ‘Then there is the even more execrable product of rank and reeking amateurs such as Brad Darrach’s Bobby Fischer vs the Rest of the World’ and calling it ‘that hysterical essay’.

A lengthier article on Darrach’s work, by Juan Rodriguez (1948-2024) on page 34 of the Montreal Star, 29 March 1975, took a very different view: the book was ‘absorbing – and hilarious’. The concluding paragraph by Rodriguez (‘the Montreal Star’s rock music critic’):

‘Even if you’ve never heard of Bobby Fischer, this book will make you laugh for hours.’

The review gave the publisher as McCraw-Hill Ryerson, and not Stein and Day.

The longest review that we have found is by Martin Johnston (1947-90) on page 13 of the ‘Weekend magazine and book reviews’ section of the Sydney Morning Herald, 15 February 1975. Some extracts:

‘There is a small and curiously interesting class of books whose authors give the impression of being, on the one hand, the only people qualified to write on a particular subject and, on the other, quite incapable of doing so. This book is one of them. While I quake at the thought of Mr Darrach (whose apprenticeship was ten years as film reviewer for Time, which to me speaks for itself) writing on anything, I have to admit that the very qualities that make this book so unpleasant may well be those best qualifying the author for admittance to the confidence of the monstrous genius Fischer.

Fischer, as even non-players are generally aware, is not a lovable man. We tend, of course, to make allowances for genius in the spirit of Auden’s elegy on Yeats: “You were silly like us; your gift survived it all.” To describe Fischer’s oddities of character as merely “silly” seems, by contrast, risibly inadequate.’

‘... What Darrach does, much more than Fischer’s affable biographer Frank Brady, is to bring the reader brutally face to face with the private figure – lonely, insecure, arrogant, an almost inarticulate genius with the culture of a gum-chewing bovver boy and the social feelings of a warthog – behind the public antics.’

‘He [Darrach] provides lurid snaps of Fischer in paranoid terror of Soviet Machiavellianism; Fischer as inconsiderate lout; Fischer as idiot savant – anything, indeed rather than try to capture what Fischer is and why.’

‘... Darrach can’t write, except the nauseating hip prolixities of the New Journalese.’

‘...Darrach’s book (despite one additional deficiency – an apparent inability to distinguish between fact, speculation and gossip) is unavoidably fascinating, because of its subject, and Darrach’s proximity to him; but it hardly deserves to be.’

‘... So why buy Darrach? Well, out of place though his smug trendiness is in this company [the previous paragraph praised other writers, singling out Purdy], he is the only one to show us Fischer with the defences down, as one grotesque to another. I hate recommending it but I have to: if you like Bosch or Grünewald, you’ll love this.’

The final quote on the back cover of Bobby Fischer vs. the Rest of the World was ‘We owe a debt to Darrach’. That was from an article by Burt Prelutsky (1940-2021) on page 16 of the ‘Calendar’ section of the 5 January 1975 edition of the Los Angeles Times:

‘Asked what impressions he retains of his three months in Reykjavik, Darrach says, “It was like being in the trenches. For weeks on end, I averaged no more than an hour’s sleep a night. I was up all day, reporting the event for Life, and then Bobby would insist on keeping me awake all night, talking. I was strained to the breaking point, and ended the summer on the verge of a nervous breakdown. My muscles never totally recovered from the ordeal. It wasn’t just the physical abuse, though. Being with Bobby is like being with a robot on some dumb TV show, pretending to conduct rational dialogues. He is a totally frozen person. The only time you could make him happy and get a spontaneous reaction from him was if you told him about a disaster. Tell him about an earthquake or a plane crash or an outbreak of the plague, and he couldn’t help smiling. Psychologically, as his sister says, he’s a three-year-old child; he’s a mess. He is a man consumed with hatred. He speaks of destroying his opponents with brute force. To win is never enough, he also must humiliate. Chess, at Fischer’s or Spassky’s level, is aggression at the outermost extreme.”

I asked Darrach whether he had ever dared challenge Fischer. “We’ve played a few times. And although I am what Bobby refers to with contempt as a weaky and he obviously wasn’t going all out, they were brutal experiences. His concentration is so total that it hits you in waves of force. After a while you can hardly breathe.”

We owe a debt to Darrach. Like such fearless correspondents as Richard Harding Davis and Sir Henry Stanley, he has ventured forth to where only the bold, the brave and the loony would dare set foot. He has not written a book about chess or even just a book about chessplayers, exactly. What Darrach did, like a latter-day Ernie Pyle, was to file blood-stained dispatches from Reykjavik, the unlikely site of World War II½.’

12067. Soviet photographs

Vladimir Neistadt (Barnaul, Russia) submits two photographs:

G.S.A. Wheatcroft and A. Kotov

In the above item (from page 312 of Шахматы в СССР, October 1958) Kotov, Flohr and Botvinnik are with one of Capablanca’s brothers, Aquiles, who was a delegate at an International Congress of Architects in Moscow.

12068. Cheltenham v Sochi

Vladimir Neistadt also reverts to C.N. 5249, which quoted from C.H.O’D. Alexander’s Sunday Times column on page 82 of the Supplement, 8 April 1973:

‘Punch-drunk at the moment from struggling with my games in the World Team Final I am incapable of annotating anyone else’s games; here, therefore, is one of my own [against Ulyanov] from a Cheltenham v Sochi friendly match. Friendly – yes I suppose so; but not conducted in any spirit of levity or undue haste. One of our team went round the world by sea in the middle and only got two moves behind the rest of us; and while I won this game in the comparatively short time of 2½ years, in my other game against Ulyanov I have been on the defensive for four years – I hope to equalize any year now.’

Our correspondent asks to see the game published by Alexander, and requests any further information about the match between Cheltenham and Sochi (the places were twinned), such as the other participants’ names.

Below is the score of the Alexander v Ulyanov game published, with notes, in the Sunday Times, and dated 1968-70:

1 e4 c5 2 Nf3 d6 3 d4 cxd4 4 Nxd4 Nf6 5 Nc3 a6 6 Bc4 e6 7 Bb3 Be7 8 f4 O-O 9 f5 e5 10 Nde2 Nc6 11 Be3 b5 12 Nd5 Nxe4 13 O-O Rb8 14 c3 Bg5 15 Qd3 Nc5 16 Bxc5 dxc5

17 f6 c4 18 Qg3 h6 19 Rad1 cxb3 20 h4 Kh7 21 fxg7 Kxg7 22 Rf6 bxa2 23 hxg5 Qxd5 24 Rxd5 a1(Q)+ 25 Rf1 Qxf1+ 26 Kxf1 h5 27 Rd6 Resigns.

Alexander also discussed the match on page 98 of A Book of Chess (London, 1973), published shortly before his death:

Acknowledgement: Cleveland Public Library

In the introduction to the 8 April 1973 Sunday Times column, Alexander gave some general observations on postal play:

‘Though much correspondence play, even at international level, is surprisingly bad, playing C.C. makes one realize that chess is difficult; I can take as much time as I like and still get it wrong. Apart from oversights (you make those after two hours’ thought as well as after two minutes’) there are three causes of failure. First, inadequate opening knowledge; how many innocents come to grief through trustingly following MCO on the assumption that it must be right. Next lack of imagination – you simply fail to see a possible line. Most important, faulty judgement; one weighs up positions wrongly.’

12069. Art or science

Mentioning C.H.O’D. Alexander’s ‘fascinating’ A Book of Chess on page 4 of the Saturday Magazine of the Birmingham Post, 10 November 1973, Peter Gibbs wrote:

‘The first chapter of the book gives the finest dissertation I have read on whether the game is an art or science.’

12070. Sayings

On page 222 of the September 1938 Chess Review, the dictum ‘Passed pawns must be pushed’ was attributed, without any particulars, to Reuben Fine. Can earlier citations (with ‘must’ or ‘should’) be found?

The saying appeared twice (see diagrams 9 and 10 below) in an unsigned feature on the inside front cover of the May 1959 Chess Review:

Diagram 3 mentions the dictum ‘Always check – it may be mate’, which has been discussed in C.N. (often with the wording ‘never miss a check, it might be mate’). The Chess Review text also has a German term seldom seen:

‘Quiz positions, however, tread their own ways and consequently may dangle the Wopatzerschach as bait.’

The word was used by Hans Kmoch on page 146 of the May-June 1934 Wiener Schachzeitung, in his notes to the ninth match-game between Bogoljubow and Alekhine (Pforzheim, 25 April 1934), after 1 d4 c5 2 d5 e5 3 e4 d6 4 f4 exf4 5 Bxf4 Qh4+:

As mentioned in C.N. 7728, the Wiener Schachzeitung is available online at the ANNO website.

An earlier occurrence of Wopatzerschach was on page 832 of the December 1930 issue of Der Querschnitt, in a chess skit, Schachwelsch, by Eugen Lazar:

See also our new feature article, Chess: ‘Never Miss a Check’.

Diagram 6 in the May 1959 Chess Review feature was accompanied by a mysterious text:

‘“A fool and his position are soon parted”, said that sage of non-playing chess adherents, Meyer Shevron.’

Concerning the text for diagram 9, variants of Purdy’s advice ‘Look for moves that smite’ can be found, but what is the best/earliest citation?

Finally, diagram 10 begins by quoting James Mason: ‘Every passed pawn is a potential queen.’

On page 130 of The Principles of Chess in Theory and Practice (London, 1894) Mason did not limit his remark to passed pawns:

‘Every pawn is a potential queen.’

12071. Heathcote and Chigorin

Michael McDowell (Westcliff-on-sea, England) draws attention to pages 48 and 238 of Alain C. White’s 1918 Christmas book Chess Idylls (a collection of problems by Godfrey Heathcote):

As our correspondent notes, the Heathcote-Chigorin episode has often been related, but what exactly did Chigorin write in Novoye Vremya?

12072. Capablanca interview

In connection with Capablanca’s simultaneous display in Hastings on 23 August 1919, the following unsigned interview was published on page 4 of the Birmingham Evening Despatch two days later:

‘In a brief chat in Spanish he said to me: “I think I must have imbibed the love of chess with my mother’s milk. At the age of four I played against my uncle at Havana – and beat him, too. I obtained a silver watch as the prize for my first win. This watch is my mascot, and I shall never part with it.”

“Have you any hobbies?”, I asked him, “or are you interested in nothing but chess?”

“Oh, yes”, said he, “I am very fond of a game of tennis, and people tell me that I should become a first-class player if I gave more time to the game. I love a good book. I revel in Ibáñez’s novels, in the plays of Benavente, in Shakespeare, and in Carlos [sic] Dickens.”

“Do you ever play billiards?”

“I have played several games”, said Capablanca, adding with a quizzical little smile, “but I have a tendency to send the ball across the edge of the table, and I have made some little rips, too, in the cloth. For this reason I am not exactly a welcome visitor to a billiard saloon.”

To sum up, in José Capablanca we have a striking instance that it is possible to combine an enormous power of concentration with a remarkable versatility and a zest for all those intellectual and physical exercises that go to the making of a many-sided man.’

The accuracy of details in such interviews is not to be taken for granted.

12073. Saint-Amant

Dominique Thimognier (Fondettes, France) has been sifting through the contradictory evidence about the name, date of birth and date of death of an eminent nineteenth-century chess figure:

‘Le Palamède, 15 July 1842 (frontispiece)

Pierre Charles Fournié de Saint-Amant came from a noble family in the south west of France. Much of what is known about him is derived from the obituary by Jean Preti in La Stratégie, 15 December 1872, pages 353-355. From page 354:

These lines in the obituary contain no fewer than three errors. Firstly, he was born at Château Latour, not “de Latour”, as was confirmed by the French chess historian Louis Mandy in an article for L’Echiquier de France, April 1956, pages 75-76 after visiting the site:

Nor was he born on 12 September 1800, a mistake repeated in some reference works, including Jeremy Gaige’s Chess Personalia (1987). The departmental archives of Lot-et-Garonne provide online access to his birth record (not publishable online without their consent). He was born on 12 Vendémiaire, Year IX of the French Republic. It is likely that Preti erred when converting that date (from the calendar used in France from 1792 to 1805) into the Gregorian calendar; it should be 4 October 1800. The error was noted as early as 1887, as the date 4 October 1800 is in the Biographie Générale de l’Agenais by Jules Andrieu (Paris and Agen, 1887), volume 2, pages 269–270.

See also this Edo page on Saint-Amant.

His name was stated incorrectly in the La Stratégie obituary, given that the birth record states Pierre Charles Fournié Saint Amant:

During the period of the Revolution it would be unthinkable for a civil registrar to include the aristocratic particle “de” on a birth record. However, the spelling “Fournié” is noteworthy.

When Saint-Amant resumed management of Le Palamède he published the “Acte de société” to relaunch the magazine (C.N. 5473). The notarized document also had “Fournié”.

Le Palamède, 15 November 1842, page 197

That spelling was also used in an article about him in the BCM 20 years after his death, on pages 49-50 of the February 1892 issue. (Signed “W.W.”, i.e. William Wayte, the article also erroneously gave his birth-date as 2 September 1800.)

BCM, February 1892, opposite page 49

Below is another article by Louis Mandy, on pages 611-612 of L’Echiquier de France, January 1958:

There has been confusion surrounding Saint-Amant’s death. In 1861, he retired to Algeria, where he had bought the Château d’Hydra on the outskirts of Algiers, in the commune of Birmandreïs (today Bir Mourad Raïs). He died as the result of a fall. The widely accepted date of his death was 29 October 1872, as reported in the French press of the time (e.g. Le Sport, 20 November 1872, pages 2-3) and as also inscribed on his tombstone, noted by Louis Mandy in an article on page 75 of Europe Echecs, April 1961:

The same date, 29 October 1872, appears in Chess Personalia, but, as Hans Renette pointed out in C.N. 7609, the death record of Saint-Amant, available online via the ANOM (Archives Nationales d’Outre-Mer), shows a small discrepancy. The record, drafted on 29 October 1872, unequivocally states that Pierre Charles Fournié Saint Amant had died at three o’clock the previous afternoon. The margin of the record confirms the date as 28 October 1872:

The civil registrar spelled his name “Fournier”, and with no hyphen between “Saint” and “Amant”.

During his time as director of Le Palamède (December 1841 to December 1847) Saint-Amant invariably signed each issue as follows: “Le directeur du Palamède, rédacteur en chef. Saint-Amant”. Frequent contributors to the magazine, such as Alphonse Delannoy and George Walker, referred to him simply as “Saint-Amant” or “St-Amant”. Below is one example, from page 9 of the 15 January 1846 issue:

The New York, 1857 tournament book (page 84) includes “Mr Charles St Amant of Paris” among the foreign Honorary Members of the American National Chess Association:

Fiske’s book was not published until 1859, but in his column on page 2 of Le Sport, 30 June 1858 Saint-Amant mentioned receiving documentation from the Association, and he reproduced the same list without any spelling changes to the name “Charles St-Amant”:

That spelling also appeared in Paris newspapers which announced his death (e.g. Le Gaulois, 13 November 1872, page 2, and La Gazette des Etrangers, 14 November 1872, page 1).

To conclude, although there is much confusion over Saint-Amant’s name and the dates of his birth and death, no evidence has been found that he ever used the spelling “Fournier”, or that he included the aristocratic particle “de” except on formal occasions. It would seem that his record should therefore read as follows:

Formal complete name: Pierre Charles Fournié de Saint-Amant;
Commonly used name: Charles Saint-Amant;
Born: 4 October 1800, Château Latour, Montflanquin, France;
Died: 28 October 1872, Château d’Hydra, Birmandreïs, French Algeria (today Bir Mourad Raïs, Algeria).’

12074. Heathcote and Chigorin (C.N. 12071)

Mate in two

From Dmitriy Komendenko (St Petersburg, Russia):

‘The Heathcote problem was published in Novoye Vremya, issue 5454 (19 May 1891, page 3). The solution was given in issue 5481 (15 June 1891, page 3). Issue 5623 (5 November 1891, page 4) had a claim about 1 Nf2 being a “simple solution”, as mentioned by Alain C. White. However, in issue 5634 (16 November 1891, ​ ​​​​​page 3) that “solution” was described as “an accidental misunderstanding”.’

12075. Winning and drawing

The front cover of Les Cahiers de l’Echiquier Français, January-February 1934 ascribed the following remark to Emanuel Lasker:

‘Si vous désirez la nullité, jouez pour le gain.’

That advice is often seen (in various wordings, such as, in English, ‘If you want a draw, play for a win’), but when was it first seen?

12076. Stalemate

Stalemate records both Lasker and Capablanca expressing doubts as to whether a game ending that way should be considered drawn. Below are further thoughts from Lasker, in his New York Evening Post column of 8 May 1907, page 7:

‘In olden times a sanctuary was a refuge for persecuted men who had no means of resistance. The sanctity of the place was respected, and often the vanquished in war escaped in this way the cruelty of the victors. The custom has died, but it has left a faint trace of its former existence in the ancient game of chesse [sic]. In the Middle Ages the rule was established that the king, in its most helpless position, when none of its side could move without exposing the king to capture, was safe, provided that the opponent had made no direct attack against the king. The position was called stalemate, and the game originally counted a win for the stalemated party, but is now reckoned a draw.

On account of this rule, the side that is under a disadvantage often escapes the rigorous punishment to which, in the logic of events, it would be exposed. The game would be a gainer in some respects if the rule were entirely abolished. It would then be easier to nurse small advantages to a win. But, as compensation, we have numerous fine combinations that owe their origin to the stalemate clause, and it gives a faint glimmer of hope to the weakened defender, even under the most desperate circumstances.’

12077. Moscow, 1925

Our recent Moscow, 1925 feature article includes the above photograph. A different one from the same occasion is on page 318 of volume two (Berlin, 2020) of that outstanding series Emanuel Lasker edited by Richard Forster, Michael Negele and Raj Tischbierek, with this caption:

‘Capablanca and Lasker in a picture set up during the Moscow, 1925 tournament (one of several versions of the photograph). Their epic encounter in round 14 of the New York, 1924 tournament was not documented by any photographer.’

Page 164 of the co-authors’ third volume (Berlin, 2022) had a full-page, and full-length, photograph:

‘A picture showing the two champions in analysis has been reproduced (and doctored) in dozens if not hundreds of publications. This shot from the magazine Prozhektor offers a slightly different angle and includes many details missing from the better-known versions.’

We are looking for a high-quality version of the seldom-seen Moscow, 1925 group photograph, shown below in a small size for reference:

12078. Games compared

The first paragraph of a review of The American Draught-Player by Henry Spayth (New York, 1860) on page 505-506 of the Atlantic Monthly, April 1860:

‘Almost everybody plays the game of draughts, but few have any insight into its beauties; and many who look upon chess as a science rather than an amusement regard draughts as a childish game, never suspecting what eminent ability and painstaking research have been expended in explaining a game which is inferior to chess only in variety and far superior in scientific precision.’

See Chess and Draughts/Checkers.

12079. From behind

The French cartoonist [Jacques-Armand] Cardon can skilfully depict his subjects (often politicians) from behind. See, for instance, Vu de dos.

C.N. 10217 gave this cartoon in Henry Grob: der Zeichner und Maler by Henry Grob (Zurich, 1965):

Other chess specimens are sought. One that comes to mind shows Reshevsky, on page 52 of the June 1992 Chess Life:

12080. The Hague, 1928

C.N. 5637 gave a photograph from page 403 of El Ajedrez Americano, October 1928:

A detail has been provided by the Cleveland Public Library:

It is a Four Knights’ Game position arising after 1 e4 e5 2 Nf3 Nc6 3 Nc3 Nf6 4 Bb5 Bb4 5 O-O O-O 6 d3 d6 7 Bg5 Ne7.