Chess Notes
Edward
Winter
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7868. Spanish bibliography
Josep Alió (Tarragona, Spain) informs us of the recent
publication of Nuevo Ensayo de Bibliografía Española
de Ajedrez 1238-1938 by José A. Garzón, Josep Alió
and Miquel Artigas.
The ‘NEBEA’ webpage
provides not only ordering details but also a video
presentation.
From Michael Negele (Wuppertal, Germany) comes page 244
of The Good Companion, May 1920:
The page has been added to our feature
article Adams v
Torre – A Sham?
7870. Tartakower’s poetry (C.N.s 3787,
3833, 3863, 4089, 4278 & 4486)
A further contribution from Michael Negele concerns a
non-chess book by Tartakower, Das russische
Revolutionsgesicht (Vienna, 1923).
John Blackstone (Las Vegas, NV, USA) has drawn
attention to this photograph on page 9 of section three
of the New York Sun, 5 February 1911:
We should very much like to trace a copy of better
quality.
7872.
Of all the drugs
A familiar quote appears in the heading on page 19 of Combinations
The
Heart
of Chess by Irving Chernev (New York, 1960):
‘For surely, of all the drugs in the world, Chess must
be the most permanently pleasurable. Assiac’
Assiac’s remark can also be found countless times on the
Internet but, to ask a rhetorical question, how many
people have bothered to provide a source?
The words come at the end of the Epilogue on page 184 of
Adventure in Chess (London, 1951), a book by Assiac
published in the United States as The Pleasures of
Chess (New York, 1952):
‘We old addicts, of course, are insatiable, but I shall
feel doubly rewarded if the book introduces some
newcomers to the deeper pleasures of Chess and whets
their appetites for more and more of it. For surely, of
all the drugs in the world, Chess must be the most
permanently pleasurable.’
The German edition, Vergnügliches Schachbuch
(Cologne/Berlin, 1953), was presented not as a translation
but as by Assiac himself (‘Deutsch von Heinrich
Fraenkel’). Page 208 had the following:
‘Denn wo in aller Welt gibt es ein Narkotikum, das
so andauernde und niemals schal werdende Genüsse
bietet wie das Schach – das einzige Narkotikum, das
keinen Katzenjammer hinterläßt, sondern immer nur
größeren Appetit und verfeinerte Genußfähigkeit.’
From page 229 of the French edition, Plaisir des
échecs (Paris, 1958):
‘Les vieux drogués comme nous sont naturellement
insatiables, mais je me sentirai doublement récompensé
si ce livre donne à quelques nouveaux venus des
notions sur les plaisirs des échecs et aiguise leur
appétit pour chercher encore plus loin. Car de toutes
les drogues du monde, les échecs doivent être la seule
qui donne un plaisir permanent.’
Assiac’s inscription in
one of our copies of Adventure in Chess
7873. ‘Excellent’
The Russian Endgame Handbook by Ilya Rabinovich
(Newton Highlands, 2012) has been ‘translated and revised
from the 1938 edition’. It might have mentioned a point
made by us on pages 19-20 of the Autumn 1996 Kingpin
(see too page 233 of Kings, Commoners and Knaves):
Ilya Rabinovich (1891-1942) has a rare, probably
unique, distinction: he wrote a book, Endshpil
(two editions, published in 1927 and 1938), which was
hailed as ‘excellent’ by both Capablanca and Alekhine.
See the ‘Endgame Masters’ chapter of Capablanca’s
Last Chess Lectures and Alekhine’s notes to the
game against Vidmar at Bled, 1931 in his 1924-1937 Best
Games collection.
Below is the relevant passage from Capablanca’s Lectures
book (New York, 1966 and London, 1967 – on pages 110 and
114 respectively):
From page 99 of Alekhine’s My Best
Games of Chess 1924-1937 (London, 1939)
7874. Charles Dickens
An extensive addition from John Townsend (Wokingham,
England) concerning Victoria Tregear has just been made in
Charles Dickens and Chess.
C.N. 2381 (see page 39 of A Chess Omnibus) gave
this position from Tartakower v Colle, San Remo, 2
February 1930:
We wrote:
Tartakower has just set a little trap with 35 Rb1-b2.
The game ended 35…Qh2+ 36 Kf1 Re7 37 Be3 (In the
Lachaga tournament book Becker recommended 37 f3 Qxb2
38 Re1.) 37…Bxe3 38 fxe3 Qh1+ 39 Kf2 Rf7+ 40 Ke2 Qg2+
41 Ke1 Rf1 mate.
From the diagram Colle could have given mate in six:
35…Bh2+ 36 Kh1 Be5+ 37 Kg1 Qh2+ 38 Kf1 Bxd4 39 Qe8+
Rxe8, etc., a line pointed out by W. Rivier in the Schweizerische
Schachzeitung, January 1931 (pages 11-12) and
March 1931 (page 45).
The position was discussed by Kurt Richter on page 113 of
his book Kombinationen (Berlin and Leipzig, 1936),
with a mention of Rivier:
With a mention of Rivier, but not of Tartakower,
because throughout the book the names of various (though
not all) Jewish players were deleted. For instance:
- Position 20: Post v unnamed opponent, Mannheim, 1914
(Flamberg);
- Position 167: S. v von Bardeleben, Hastings, 1895
(Steinitz);
- Position 197: von Holzhausen v unnamed opponent,
1912 (Tarrasch);
- Position 239: von Scheve v unnamed opponent,
Ostend, 1907 (Rubinstein).
The process was intensified in the second edition of
Richter’s book (Berlin, 1940), as shown by position 66
on page 29:
1936 edition
1940 edition
Similarly, in the 1936 edition ‘Dr Lasker’ was named as
the opponent of Bogoljubow (Zurich, 1934, in position
107) and of Torre (Moscow, 1925, in position 237). Four
years later, the former world champion’s name was
reduced in both cases to ‘L.’.
Expurgations were even retained in the post-War
translation Combinaciones en el medio juego
(Buenos Aires, 1947):
An example from page 158:
In the 1936 German edition Nimzowitsch had been
identified in connection with this position, but there
was only ‘N.’ in the 1940 volume.
Later editions of Kombinationen restored the
masters’ names.
7876. Capablanca dressed for tennis
(C.N.s 4114 & 5549)
Yet another version of Koltanowski’s anecdote, from page
19 of his book Torneo internacional de Hastings 1935-1936
(Barcelona, 1936):
John Blackstone (Las Vegas, NV, USA)
points out an article ‘Chess
Playing
as
a Profession for Women’ by Nellie M. Showalter in
the Los Angeles Herald, 6 February 1898, page 24.
It includes two sketches of H.N. Pillsbury:
Mr Blackstone also draws attention to
the photographs
of
Hamburg,
1910 (including Alekhine, Marshall and Nimzowitsch)
which were published on page 3 of the New York Sun,
7 August 1910.
C.N.s 4663, 5832, 5836, 5841 and 7354 discussed this
photograph, which was taken at the entrance to Battle
Abbey.
Below is an article about the masters’
excursion to Battle, published on pages 258-260 of the 4
September 1895 issue of the Chess Player’s Chronicle.
The original source is given as the Birmingham
Gazette, and the prose style of R.J. Buckley is
recognizable.
7880. ‘Alekhine’s Gun’
C.N. 7875 gave a position from Alekhine v Nimzowitsch,
San Remo, 1930, and we should like to know the origins of
the term ‘Alekhine’s Gun’, which has been widely applied
to a manoeuvre in that game.
For example, after 26 Qc1 Jeremy Silman wrote on pages
280-281 of How to Reassess Your Chess (Los
Angeles, 1993):
‘The pressure White exerts on the file is crushing.
After this game was played, this form of tripling on a
file with both rooks in the lead became known as
Alekhine’s Gun.’
In the periodicals of the time that we have checked, 26
Qc1 received no comment at all. When was the ‘Gun’ term
first attached to it?
Eduardo Bauzá Mercére (New York, NY,
USA) offers a game from the 1958 Spanish championship
which has the seesaw
manoeuvre:
Arturo Pomar Salamanca – Eduardo Pérez Gonsalves
Valencia, 28 June 1958
Sicilian Defence
1 e4 c5 2 Nf3 e6 3 d4 cxd4 4 Nxd4 a6 5 Nc3 Bb4 6 Qg4 Nf6
7 Qxg7 Rg8 8 Qh6 Rg6 9 Qe3 Ng4 10 Qd3 d5 11 exd5 Qxd5 12
Bd2 Qe5+ 13 Be2 Bc5 14 Be3 Nxe3 15 fxe3 Bd7 16 O-O-O Nc6
17 Bf3 O-O-O 18 Ne4 Be7 19 Qc3 Bf8 20 Rd3 f5 21 Nxc6 Qxc3
22 Na7+ Kb8 23 Nxc3 Kxa7 24 Rhd1 Rg7 25 e4 Kb8 26 exf5
exf5 27 Ne2 Be7 28 Nd4 Rc8 29 Kb1 Bf6 30 Nb3 Bb5 31 Rd5 f4
32 Rf5 Bg5 33 Nc5 Bd8 34 Ne6 Rd7 35 Rxd7 Bxd7
36 Rf7 Bxe6 37 Rxb7+ Ka8 38 Rxh7+ Kb8 39 Rb7+ Ka8 40 Re7+
Kb8 41 Rxe6 a5 42 Rc6 Rxc6 43 Bxc6 Kc7 44 Bf3 Kd6 45 c3
Kc5 46 Kc2 Bf6 47 Kd3 a4 48 Bd1 Kb5 49 Ke4 a3 50 bxa3 Bxc3
51 Kxf4 Kc6 52 h4 Kd6 53 Bb3 Resigns.
Source: El Ajedrez Español, 1958, page 248.
Pages 110 and 111 of Relax with Chess by Fred
Reinfeld (New York, 1948):
There are complications with this Latvian game but
also, particularly, with the Najdorf one mentioned in
Reinfeld’s sixth note.
Beginning with Strautmanis’ victory over Hāzenfūss, we
note that it was published by Spielmann on page 150 of
the May 1935 Wiener Schachzeitung:
A few years later it was given on page 181 of Šachs
Latvijā by K. Bētiņš, A. Kalniņš and V. Petrovs
(Riga, 1940):
In this book the game was dated 1935, rather than 1934,
but according to the crosstable on page 23 the
tournament was played from 22 to 31 December 1934.
The second discrepancy is the repetition of moves
immediately after the white queen’s sortie: 1 e4
e6 2 d4 d5 3 Nc3 dxe4 4 Nxe4 Nd7 5 Nf3 Ngf6 6 Bd3 Be7 7
O-O b6 8 Ne5 Bb7 9 Nxf6+ gxf6 10 Nxf7 Kxf7 11 Qh5+ Kg8 12
Qg4+ Kf7 13 Qh5+ Kg8 14 Re1 Nf8 15 Bh6 f5 16 Re3 Qe8
17 Rg3+ Ng6 18 Bc4 Bf8 19 Qxf5 Bxh6 20 Bxe6+ Kg7 21 Qe5+
Kf8 22 Qf6+ Qf7 23 Qxf7 mate.
The Najdorf game is referred to in our
feature article about another brilliancy by him, The Polish Immortal, where
it is reported that, according to recent research, his
opponent (in the French Defence game) was named Gliksberg
and that the occasion was Łódź, 1929. From page 60 of Najdorf:
Life and Games by T. Lissowski and A. Mikhalchishin
(London, 2005):
‘Numerous sources wrongly give the loser’s name here as
Szapiro (or Shapiro, Schapiro). Gliksberg from Łódź
should not be confused with the second-category Warsaw
player Glücksberg.’
An endnote on page 62 stated:
‘Najdorf’s notes to this game were published in the
1970s. Other sources give White’s eighth move as Nfg5
and omit the repetition at moves 12-13.’
The repetition of moves (identical to the repetition
which, according to the Latvian book, occurred in the
Strautmanis encounter) would mean that Najdorf’s game
ended with 23 Rxf8 mate, and not 21 Rxf8 mate as in the
Reinfeld book. See too pages 15-17 of Young Najdorf
by T. Lissowski (Nottingham, 2010).
Earlier sources had some other oddities. On pages 243-244
of The Fireside Book of Chess by I. Chernev and F.
Reinfeld (New York, 1949) Najdorf’s opponent was named as
‘Sapiro’, and the occasion was given as Łódź, 1929;
however, pages 410-411 of Chernev’s 1000 Best Short
Games of Chess (New York, 1955) had ‘Sapira’ and
‘Buenos Aires, 1948’. (The latter book also included the
Strautmanis game, on pages 388-389.)
Another venue that has been suggested is Warsaw. See, for
instance, pages 63-66 of Miguel Najdorf El hijo de
Caissa by Nicolás Capeika Calvo (Buenos Aires,
2002), which named Black as ‘Shapiro’ and gave the
occasion as ‘Torneo de Varsovia, 1927?’. Apart
from the question mark, the same details were in Najdorf
103
partidas by A.M. Calúa (Buenos Aires, 1985), again
on the strength of a quote from Najdorf claiming that the
game was played in the same event as the ‘Polish
Immortal’, that it won the second brilliancy prize, that
he believed that it should have been preferred for the
first prize, and that he was aged 17 at the time:
‘Es cuestión de puntos de vista. El jurado optó por
la “inmortal polaca”, que ustedes ya conocen, y dieron
el segundo premio de belleza a la presente partida con
Shapiro, que, a mi juicio, hubiese preferido para ese
honor.
Repito que en ese torneo de Varsovia yo tenía 17
años ...’
As mentioned in our Polish Immortal article, Najdorf also
claimed to have played the Dutch Defence game at the age
of 17. He was born in 1910.
A key question now is when Najdorf’s game against the
French Defence was first published.
7883. Chess Amateur
In the 1920s the Chess Amateur contained some of
the most detailed annotations then available in any
periodical, by W.A. Fairhurst. An example:
J. Kay – William Albert Fairhurst
Manchester, 1924
Centre Counter Game
1 e4 d5 2 exd5 Qxd5 3 Nc3 Qa5 4 Bc4 Nf6 5 Nf3 Bg4 6 O-O
e6 7 d3 Qh5 8 Bf4 c6 9 Re1 Nbd7 10 Qe2 Be7 11 Qe3 Bxf3 12
Qxf3 Qxf3 13 gxf3 Nb6 14 Bb3 Nbd5 15 Bd2 Nxc3 16 Bxc3 Nd5
17 Be5 Bf6 18 f4 Bxe5 19 fxe5 Ne7 20 Re4 Rd8 21 Rd1 Nf5 22
c3 Ke7 23 Kf1 Rd7 24 Ke2 Rhd8 25 Bc2 a6 26 d4 Kf8 27 Rf4
Ne7 28 Rh4 h6 29 Rf4 b5 30 Rd3 Nd5 31 Rff3 g5 32 Rd1 c5 33
Bb3 Nf4+ 34 Ke3 Kg7 35 Rg3 Ng6 36 Rgg1 Rc7 37 Rd2 Rb8 38
f3 b4 39 Rdg2 bxc3 40 bxc3 cxd4+ 41 cxd4 Rc3+ 42 Ke4 Nh4
43 Rf2 Rb4 44 Rd1 Nf5 45 Re2 a5 46 Rd3
46...a4 47 Bd1 Rbc4 48 Red2, and Black mates in two
moves.
Page 11 of Killer Chess Tactics by R. Keene, E.
Schiller and L. Shamkovich (New York, 2003) states that
the ‘second half of the book is a revised and updated
version of World Champion Combinations, by
Raymond Keene and Eric Schiller’.
Our 1998
article on that earlier book commented that page 18
...
‘... has a game headed only ‘Morphy-Amateur’, yet a
glance at a number of sources (including David Lawson’s
biography of Morphy and Chess Explorations)
would have sufficed to obtain Black’s name, P.E.
Bonford.’
On page 208 of Killer Chess Tactics a correction
to the game heading has been attempted:
7885. The height of chessplayers and
other details
The pen portrait of Chigorin in C.N. 7879 (‘a short
thickset individual of swarthy complexion, high square
forehead, and large, clear, kindly eyes’) corroborates a
point first discussed in C.N. 1106 (see page 192 of Chess
Explorations): contrary to some expectations and
assumptions, Chigorin was not a tall man.
The Factfinder has a
number of references under the entry ‘Size/height of
chessplayers’, and they are now supplemented by Olimpiu G.
Urcan (Singapore). He has sent us documentation on all the
players listed below, and we show four of the records (for
Oscar Chajes, Edward Lasker, Frank James Marshall and
Samuel Reshevsky).
5 feet 4¾ inches – Source: Passport Application
(1901), National Archives and Records Administration
(NARA); Washington, DC; Passport Applications,
1795-1905; Collection Number: ARC Identifier
566612/MLR Number A1 508; NARA Series: M1372; Roll:
577. Via ancestry.com.
5 feet 8 inches – Source: Passport Application
(1923), National Archives and Records Administration
(NARA); Washington, DC; Passport Applications, 2
January 1906-31 March 1925; Collection Number: ARC
Identifier 583830/MLR Number A1 534; NARA Series:
M1490; Roll:2184. Via Ancestry.com. (The supporting
declaration by Jacob Bernstein is noteworthy.)
5 feet 9 inches – Source: Passport Application
(1898), National Archives and Records Administration
(NARA); Washington, DC; Passport Applications,
1795-1905; Collection Number: ARC Identifier
566612/MLR Number A1 508; NARA Series: M1372; Roll:
511. Via ancestry.com.
5 feet 6 inches – see C.N. 7865.
5 feet 6½ inches – Source: Passport Application
(1882), National Archives and Records Administration
(NARA); Washington, DC; Passport Applications,
1795-1905; Collection Number: ARC Identifier
566612/MLR Number A1 508; NARA Series: M1372; Roll:
247. Via ancestry.com.
5 feet 6 inches – Source: Passport Application
(1905), National Archives and Records Administration
(NARA); Washington, DC; Passport Applications,
1795-1905; Collection Number: ARC Identifier
566612/MLR Number A1 508; NARA Series: M1372; Roll:
511.Via ancestry.com.
5 feet 9 inches – Source: Passport Application
(1921), National Archives and Records Administration
(NARA); Washington, DC; Passport Applications,
1795-1905; Collection Number: ARC Identifier
566612/MLR Number A1 508; NARA Series: M1372; Roll #:
247. Via ancestry.com.
5 feet 10 inches – Source: Passport Application
(1914), National Archives and Records Administration
(NARA); Washington, DC; Passport Applications, 2
January 1906-31 March 31 1925; Collection Number: ARC
Identifier 583830/MLR Number A1 534; NARA Series:
M1490; Roll: 205. Via ancestry.com.
5 feet 7 inches –
see C.N. 6267.
5 feet 2½ inches – Source: Declaration of Intent
(1933), National Archives; Washington, DC; Petitions
for Naturalization from the US District Court for the
Southern District of New York, 1897-1944; Series:
M1972; Roll: 971. Via ancestry.com.
5 feet 10½ inches – Source 1: Passport Application
(1887), National Archives and Records Administration
(NARA); Washington, DC; Passport Applications,
1795-1905; Collection Number: ARC Identifier
566612/MLR Number A1 508; NARA Series: M1372; Roll:
297. Source 2: Passport Application (1920), National
Archives and Records Administration (NARA);
Washington, DC; Passport Applications, 2 January
1906-31 March 1925; Collection Number: ARC Identifier
583830/MLR Number A1 534; NARA Series: M1490; Roll:
1447. Via ancestry.com.
- Wilhelm/William Steinitz:
See C.N. 7149.
7886. Edward Lasker
From page 10 of the January 1976 Chess Life &
Review, in an article on Edward Lasker by Mona M.
Karff:
‘Lasker is reticent about the tragedies in his life:
his charming and talented wife, to whom he had been
happily married for only six months, died after a minor
operation as a result of a surgeon’s error; and his
mother and brother perished in Nazi Germany.’
The death of his wife, Cecile Mathilde Heller, was
reported on page 194 of the December 1920 American
Chess Bulletin:
From page 156 of Louisiana’s Art Nouveau by S.
Ormond and M.E. Irvine (Gretna, 1976):
‘Heller, Cecile Mathilde (1890-1920). Cecile Heller
(Mrs Edward Lasker) was awarded a Diploma in Art in
1911. The year before she had received the Holley Medal
for highest excellence in watercolor throughout the
session. Her father was Rabbi Max Heller, head of Temple
Sinai in New Orleans for 40 years.
She married a US chess champion and went to live in
Chicago. She had been married only six months when she
died at age 30, leaving a portfolio of watercolor
paintings of every room of the mansion in which she
lived.
She exhibited a bookplate in the crafts show at Newcomb
on 2 April 1911, according to the Times Picayune
of that day.’
Edward Lasker’s bookplate was discussed in C.N. 2524 (see
pages 181-182 of A Chess Omnibus), and below is
one of the specimens in our collection, in the 1920 volume
of Deutsches Wochenschach. The artist is named as
‘C.M. Heller’.
As mentioned in the earlier C.N. item, the photograph on
which the illustration is based (Mischa Elman in play
against Lasker) was published on page 27 of the February
1918 American Chess Bulletin:
7887. Los Angeles
The photographs given in Chess
and Hollywood included a shot of a game of living
chess in August 1945, from page 34 of the October 1945 Chess
Review. Luc Winants (Boirs, Belgium) notes that a
fine version is available on-line, courtesy of the Los
Angeles Times.
From the same website our correspondent also draws
attention to a photograph of Bobby
Fischer at his 50-board simultaneous display in Los
Angeles on 12 April 1964.
Eduardo Bauzá Mercére (New York, NY, USA) submits page
9 of ¡Najdorf! juega y gana by Raúl Castelli
(Hurlingham, 1968):
Of particular interest is the last paragraph, which
reports a remark by Najdorf in the newspaper La
Nación in 1944 that it was his best game.
7890. Of all the drugs (C.N. 7872)
Below is the text which appeared on pages 182-183 of the
Dutch edition of Assiac’s book, Avonturen op 64 velden
(Amsterdam, 1952):
A remark in passing is that on the front of the
dust-jacket the author received smaller billing than the
translator, Lodewijk Prins:
Yakov Zusmanovich (Pleasanton, CA, USA) comments that
he has only one biographical book devoted to a
chessplayer of Korean origin and published with Korean
text, Ride Along, My Snow-White Knight!.. by
Alexey Kim (Moscow, 2002):
7892. Simpson’s-in-the-Strand
An oft-found statement about Simpson’s-in-the-Strand,
London:
‘It also hosted the great tournaments of 1883 and 1899,
and the first ever women’s international in 1897.’
By ‘oft-found’ we mean that a Google search currently
yields no fewer than 555 results for that exact sentence.
In reality, the venues were:
- London, 1883: Victoria Hall in the Criterion
(tournament book, page xviii, and page 260 of the May
1883 Chess Monthly);
- London, 1899: St Stephen’s Hall, Westminster
(tournament book, page xvi, and page 141 of the April
1899 BCM);
- London, 1897 (women’s tournament): Masonic
Temple/Hall, Hotel Cecil, as well as the Ladies’ Chess
Club, Ideal Café, 185 Tottenham Court Road (BCM,
August 1897, pages 136, 285 and 287, and the American
Chess
Magazine, July 1897, page 77).
7893. Andrés Segovia and Capablanca
Paul Herzman (Brooklyn, NY, USA) quotes from page 138 of
Don Andrés and Paquita The Life of Segovia in
Montevideo (Milwaukee, 2012):
‘[On 19 May 1936] they had tea with composer Sergei
Prokofiev, his wife, and the great Cuban chess player
José Raúl Capablanca. Our two artists shared one of the
other legs of the tour through the Soviet Union with
Capablanca, whose second wife, Olga Chagodaev, was
Russian ... [Capablanca married her in 1938.]
[After 15 June 1936] they went to Kiev. In the
Ukrainian capital they again met Capablanca, with whom
they shared several walks; they also attended one of his
chess matches.’
Capablanca referred to Segovia on pages 13-14 of Last
Lectures (New York, 1966):
‘Several years ago, in the Russian city of Kiev, I ran
across Andrés Segovia, the great Spanish guitarist. We
had known each other for some time; he as a lover of
chess, and I as a lover of music! He was to give a
concert and I a simultaneous exhibition. Both of these
events were to take place in the great concert hall of
Kiev, and naturally each of us invited the other to his
performance. The simultaneous exhibition had been
arranged for 30 students, boys and girls between ten and
16 years of age. Segovia, his wife and I arrived in the
hall in due course, and I noted Segovia’s amazement at
the spectacle which met his eyes. The huge hall was
completely filled, and its balcony held more than a
thousand girls who had come to watch the play. All were
students and had learned to play chess in their
respective schools. On the stage 30 boys and girls had
been seated in a rectangle as is customary in such
exhibitions. Most of them were boys, all of them ready
to do battle with me. In each corner there had been
placed a particularly strong adversary. In back of the
players there was a crowd of boys and girls with their
teachers and in back of them the guests. It was truly,
as Segovia said, a phenomenal spectacle. There were at
least three thousand people in the hall, almost all of
them children.’
Ross Jackson (Raumati South, New Zealand) requests
assistance with identifying the individuals in a
photograph which he acquired recently:
The article below by G.H. Diggle was published in the
April 1984 Newsflash and on page 1 of volume two
of Chess Characters (Geneva, 1987):
‘“The Lloyds Bank Programme” (so reads the envious
Badmaster in the March Newsflash) “organized
by British Chess Officials and continually identifying
and encouraging new talent, aims to help young people
in schools and universities to improve their game to
top level standards.” Oh, it does, does it? And what
does it do to help the old people – worthy pensioners
with 50 years’ addled chess fermenting in their brains
– to make some stand against these pampered young
sixth-formers who invariably wipe them off the board
nowadays? When are the “poor old souls” to expect
their “meals on wheels” to be accompanied by a
visiting Grandmaster to bring them up to date with the
Nimzo-Indian, Keene’s Flank Openings, and other
horrors of that sort? At present, they are just left
to sit at home playing some cheap Computer purchased
with their hard-earned savings. The BM himself was
once ensnared into taking on one of these brutes. It
would occasionally “talk” between the moves – whenever
the BM blundered there came clanking out from its
bowels some slotted sarcasm such as “IS THIS A TRAP, I
WONDER?” After exclaiming, “Enough of this programmed
impudence!”, the BM has reverted ever since to playing
human beings, finding even the young ones far less
objectionable. In fact, recently he played in a
ten-minute Tournament against a charming schoolgirl
and overlooked a mate in two, whereupon she remarked
in a chatty sort of way, quite free of any
superciliousness, that she thought his last move was
“a bit gaga”. The BM, of course, took refuge in his
usual nauseating self-abasement. “Only my last move?”,
he
intoned with lugubrious deference.
The few young players in the BM’s day had a less
spontaneous approach, but they came from Universities
rather than from schools. The BM once entered his
local club and found a blasé Undergraduate – a
complete stranger – lolling on his own in front of a
board and looking as if the last thing he wanted was a
game of chess. Sensing this, the courteous BM made no
advances and started reading the paper, but after some
quarter of an hour had elapsed the visitor, as though
in the last extremity for something to keep him awake,
suddenly drawled: “Care to be murdered?” The obliging
BM at once acquiesced, and throughout the opening
stages his opponent played and conversed at the same
time like a weary chess roué who had encountered all
the experts, drained chess dry, weighed it on the
balance and found it wanting. “Ah! You’ve played that
line? Yes, I’ve seen it before – hopelessly unsound,
you know – Milner-Barry used to potter about with it
at one time, but Alexander eventually tore it to rags
– do you know, I’ve completely forgotten what the
right reply is – yes, I’m getting quite senile, in
fact I’m playing like a novice, which is probably what
I really am ...”’
7896. Paul Rudolf von Bilguer
Andreas Lange (Berlin) refers to three games played by
Paul Rudolf von Bilguer simultaneously (two of them
blindfold) in Berlin on 19 March 1840 and published on
pages 91-93 of the March 1852 Deutsche Schachzeitung:
Our correspondent points out that further details about
the occasion, as well as the identity of the third
opponent (Crelinger), were supplied on pages 628-629 of Der
bayrische Volksfreund, 1840:
‘Berlin, 20 März. (Etwas für Schachspieler) Gestern
waren wir Zeuge einer in ihrer Art außerordentlichen
Begebenheit. Ein Offizier, Hr. v. Bilguer, hatte vor
einigen Tagen die merkwürdige Aufgabe gelöst, eine
Partie Schach gegen die anwesenden sämmtlichen
Schachspieler, und zwar dem Schachbrett den Rücken
zuwendend, zu spielen. Er gewann die Parthie in der 7.
Viertelstunde. Gestern spielte er mit drei Herren auf
drei verschiedenen Brettern zugleich, und zwar so, daß
seine beiden Hauptgegner im Nebenzimmer, aber bei
offenen Thüren am Schachbrett saßen und zogen, während
ein unpartheiischer Herr in der Mitte stand und Zug
für Zug angab; sodann zog der Gegner mit dem Hrn. v.
B. die dritte. In anderthalb Stunden ergab sich die
Partie II, in zwei Stunden war die Partie I matt; aber
bald darauf verlor Hr. v. B. die Parthie, die er
eigenhändig spielte, an seinen Gegner, Hrn. Crelinger.
Aber welch ein außerordentliches Gedächtnis gehört
dazu, jeden Zug auf zwei unsichtbaren Schachbrettern
mit allen Stellungen zu behalten, und die dritte
Parthie, die zu gewinnen er sehr nahe war, auch noch
zu dirigiren.’
The three games were lightly annotated (with Crelinger
unidentified) on pages 45-48 of Paul Rudolf v. Bilguer
by O. Koch (Leipzig, 1915). For two other games from that
book see C.N. 1619 and pages 74-76 of Chess
Explorations.
From Olimpiu G. Urcan (Singapore):
‘After 1 c4 e5 2 Nc3 Nf6 3 Nf3 e4 4 Ng5 ...
... the move 4...b5 is normally referred to as the
“Bellón Gambit” after Juan Manuel Bellón López.
Databases indicate that the first two games with
this idea were played by Bellón in 1969 and 1971.
From page 9 of Dynamic Chess Strategy by
Mihai Şubă (Oxford, 1991):
“The eccentric variation of the English Opening
played in the following game is known as the Bellón
Gambit. I do not intend to contest the paternity of
an interesting idea, but this is the right moment to
express my disagreement with some chess
nomenclature. We have no Fischer’s Opening or Tal
Variation but instead the ‘Poisoned Pawn Variation’,
the ‘Classical System’ or the ‘King’s Indian
Attack’, while chess literature abounds with obscure
names of people who played some bizarre move ‘for
the first time’. Bellón is an aficionado of
unorthodox openings. This very likeable player also
consistently used 1 Nc3 after our game in Bucharest
1976. At that time I showed him some ideas from this
opening, which is called the Dunst, although G.
Alexandrescu exhaustively analyzed it some 50 years
ago and baptized it the ‘Romanian Opening’. The
‘Bellón Gambit’ was known in Romania in the 1960s.”
On page 10, in the note to 4...b5, he wrote:
“The first published game which featured this idea
was Reshevsky-Bellón (Palma de Mallorca 1971).”
On page 44 of the extended and updated edition of
his book (Alkmaar, 2010) Şubă made some corrections
and – quite rare in chess literature at this level –
offered an apology:
“The eccentric variation of the English Opening
played in this game is known as the Bellón Gambit.
I must rectify the opinion put forward in the old
book – that Bellón might not be its initiator – and
apologize. That opinion was based on a chat with IM
Mititelu. He told me that the gambit has Romanian
roots and its premiere occurred in a game he played
against IM Ungureanu. There is no record of that
game and unfortunately Ghita Mititelu is no longer
with us. The fact that Bellón came to Romania
several times in the company of Louis Haritver (who
was once Romanian) strengthened this idea. Louis was
the President of the Malaga Chess Federation in the
1970s. It is now clear that Bellón’s visits to
Romania happened after 1970. The only thing I can
confirm is that the gambit was known among Romanian
players by the beginning of the 1970s. It was feared
to such an extent that everybody played 4 Nd4. I did
it myself, against Dan Wolf in the Romanian
Championship 1972, and Nicolaide also did it several
years later against my own second attempt to play
the gambit.
Bellón played it first in 1969 in the World Junior
Championship.”’
The twists continue with Najdorf’s brilliancy against
the French Defence. Christian Sánchez (Rosario,
Argentina) points out an occasion when Najdorf
identified Black as Frenke. Below is an article
contributed by Najdorf on pages 204-205 of the July 1964
Chess Review:
Peter de Jong (De Meern, the Netherlands) identifies
the player on the right as G.C.A. Oskam. Below is a
detail from the Margate, 1923 group photograph given in
C.N. 4122:
Left to right: G.C.A.
Oskam, E. Colle, P.W. Sergeant
See too C.N. 6343.
7900. Differing opinions
Below is the text of C.N. 3048 (see page 54 of Chess
Facts and Fables), concerning a familiar miniature:
Lukomsky – Pobedin
Moscow, 1929
Queen’s Fianchetto Defence
1 d4 Nf6 2 c4 b6 3 Nc3 e6 4 e4 Bb4 5 e5 Ne4 6 Qg4 Nxc3
7 bxc3 Bxc3+ 8 Kd1 Kf8 9 Rb1 Nc6 10 Ba3+ Kg8 11 Rb3 Bxd4
12 Qxg7+ Kxg7 13 Rg3+ Resigns.
Some sources (including the Wiener Schachzeitung,
June 1929, pages 184-185) gave Pobedin’s name as
‘Podebin’.
The game illustrates how prominent masters may differ
in their appreciation of games and positions. Annotating
the miniature on pages 122-124 of the June 1930 Ajedrez,
Tartakower gave White’s 12th move two exclamation marks
and referred to ‘this splendid queen sacrifice’. On page
178 of 1000 Best Short Games of Chess (New
York, 1955) Irving Chernev reported that Marshall ‘was
fond of this game’. In contrast, Réti found the
combination ‘banal and uninteresting’. He was writing in
Morgenzeitung, and his notes were reproduced on
pages 218-219 of the July 1929 Deutsche
Schachzeitung. See also page 5 of Réti’s Best
Games of Chess by H. Golombek (London, 1954).
For ease of reference, we add here the Tartakower and
Réti texts:
Finally, the text on page 5 of Golombek’s book on Réti:
In some databases White was named as Lugowski or
Lukowski. What is the earliest known publication of the
game in a Soviet source?
7901. Two pawns
White to move and draw
This photograph of Francesco [sic] Somma was
published opposite page 776 of L’Echiquier,
October-November 1934:
A biographical note and four previously unpublished
problems were given on page 872 of the December 1934
issue:
Further biographical information about Somma will be
welcome.
Page 193 of The Unknown Capablanca by David
Hooper and Dale Brandreth (London, 1975) lists two
30-board simultaneous exhibitions in Kiev, on 18 and 19
June 1936.
In one of the displays his opponents included Isaac
Lipnitsky (1923-59), as mentioned on page 6 of Vadim
Teplitsky’s Russian monograph on Lipnitsky (Bat Yam,
1993):
‘Izya Lipnitsky also participated in that
simultaneous exhibition, but we know nothing about how
he played against Capablanca.’
The same page, together with an endnote on page 103,
indicates that the Cuban faced 29 boys and one girl. Can
any further details be found in Russian-language sources
of the time?
7904.
Gibaud v Lazard
Page 351 of Kings, Commoners and Knaves quoted
two passages regarding the alleged Gibaud v Lazard
brevity:
‘When in England recently, M. Znosko-Borovsky ...
showed us the score of the following curious little game
played in Paris last year: 1 d4 d5 2 Nf3 Bg4 3 Ne5 Nf6 4
Nxg4 Nxg4 5 Nd2 e5 6 h3 Ne3 7 White resigns.’
Source: page 221 of the June 1921 BCM.
‘Monsieur Gibaud asks us to correct a mistake made by
the author of Curious Chess Facts [Irving
Chernev] and quoted by us last month. He never lost any
tournament game in four moves. Searching his memory he
recalls a “skittles” he once played against Lazard, a
game of the most light-hearted variety, in which, his
attention momentarily distracted by the arrival of his
friend Muffang, he played a move which allowed a
combination of this genre – but certainly not four moves
after the commencement of the game. Rumour, he said,
must have woven strange tales about this game, coupling
it perhaps with the theoretical illustration
Znosko-Borovsky gives on page 24 of his Comment on
devient brillant joueur d’échecs (Paris, 1935).’
Source: page 420 of CHESS, 14 July 1937.
We commented that the shortest version (1 d4 Nf6 2 Nd2 e5
3 dxe5 Ng4 4 h3 Ne3 5 White resigns) regularly appears in
books and that in his introduction to Chess Tactics (Ramsbury,
1984) Paul Littlewood even called it ‘the shortest match
game known in chess literature – Gibaud-Lazard, Paris,
1927’. Richter’s Kombinationen (various editions)
dated it 1935.
Now, Dominique Thimognier (Fondettes, France) forwards a
cutting from page 12 of the Feuille d’Avis de Lausanne,
24 June 1933 (chess column by André Chéron):
From John Townsend (Wokingham, England):
‘The prison in which Edge was held was the
Debtors’ Prison for London and Middlesex, Whitecross
Street; it was essentially the same institution
which John Henry Huttman had known in 1838 and the
early 1840s. The following information is extracted
from a return made on 1 July 1865 of the prisoners
“within the walls” of that establishment (source:
Gaolers’ returns, Whitecross Street Prison, National
Archives, B 2/19):
“Name: Edge Frederick Milnes
Date of Imprisonment: 23 May 1865
Creditor: George Best, Rochester Terrace,
Westminster
Nature and Amount of Debt: Ca Sa. £30 6s.
Whether such Prisoner is willing or refuses to
petition the Court of Bankruptcy, or is unable to do
so by reason of poverty: Unwilling
Attorney: B. Peverley, 73 Coleman St.”
Next to Edge’s name have been added in pencil some
not very legible annotations, which appear to read:
“Adjd/insufficient/In prison.”
The entry “Ca Sa” is a normal abbreviation for Capias
ad Satisfaciendum, which is understood to be a type
of writ, which a creditor can have issued after
obtaining judgment against a debtor, whose body then
has to be produced before the court to satisfy the
creditor the amount recovered by the judgment. The
debtor is kept in prison until he makes the
satisfaction awarded.
The period of confinement could, in earlier times,
be very prolonged. However, new measures introduced
in the 1861 Bankruptcy Act had aimed, generally
speaking, to get debtors and bankrupts out of
prison, and many were freed after the Act was
passed. It is perhaps therefore a little surprising
that Edge was kept in prison at a relatively late
date for an amount as small as £30 6s.
The creditor, George Best, of 5 Rochester Terrace,
Westminster, was listed as an auctioneer and
upholsterer in the Post Office London Directory
for 1865 (page 852). It is not known how Edge came
to owe him money. The same directory (page 1278)
lists Edge’s attorney, Benjamin Peverley, as a
solicitor at 73 Coleman Street, EC.’
Further to the references in the Factfinder, under
‘Knight (mate by a knight’s first move)’, below is another
specimen, published on page 7 of the January 1944 Schweizerische
Schachzeitung:
B. Dyner – N.N.
Simultaneous exhibition, Neuchâtel, 30 November
1943
Centre Game
1 e4 e5 2 d4 f6 3 dxe5 fxe5 4 Qh5+ Ke7 5 Qxe5+ Kf7 6 Bc4+
d5 7 Bxd5+ Kg6 8 Qg3+ Kh5 9 Bf7+ g6 10 Qf3+ Bg4 11 Qxg4+
Kxg4 12 h3+ Kh5 13 g4+ Kh4
14 Nf3 mate.
7907. Translating Fischer
C.N. 867 (see page 149 of Chess Explorations and
Fischer’s Fury) commented
on the flavourless and inaccurate French translation (by
Parviz M. Abolgassemi) of Fischer’s Mes 60 meilleures
parties (Paris, 1972), even though the book claimed
to have been ‘entièrement revu et corrigé par Chantal
Chaudé de Silans’. These examples were offered:
A) ‘Once again, time-pressure had Sherwin burying his
thumbs in his ears.’ ‘Une fois de plus à court de
temps, Sherwin ne veut rien entendre.’ (Game 1)
B) ‘Alekhine said, in his prime, ...’ ‘Alékhine
disait, au début de sa carrière ...’ (Game 8)
C) ‘A good last-ditch try.’ ‘Un excellent coup.’ (Game
16)
D) ‘I was informed that Gligorich thought I had
blundered a Pawn ...’ ‘Je savais que Gligoric
pensait que je m’étais trompé, ...’ (Game 30)
E) ‘Relieving the suspense.’ ‘Gardant le suspense.’
(Game 60).
Now, Louis Morin (Montreal, Canada) notes how these
passages had appeared in the first edition of the book
(also published by Stock, Paris in 1972):
A) ‘Une fois de plus à court de temps. Comme si
Sherwin se refusait à comprendre.’
B) ‘Alékhine a dit, au début de sa carrière ...’
C) ‘Une dernière chance.’
D) ‘J’étais informé que Gligoric pensait que je
m’étais trompé, ...’
E) ‘Gardant le suspense.’ (No change to the
translation.)
Mr Morin also mentions a case where the translation in
the ‘corrected edition’ was made worse. A sentence in the
introduction to Game 44 refers to the Evans Gambit and
reads:
‘This ploy has all but disappeared from the arena.’
- First edition: ‘Ce gambit, quoique valable, a
disparu.’
- ‘Corrected’ edition: ‘Ce gambit est loin d’avoir
disparu.’
Below is the front cover of a later reprint of the
‘corrected’ text (Editions Garnier Frères, 1982):
Michael Negele (Wuppertal, Germany) has found this
photograph in the Rueb scrapbooks at the Royal Library
in The Hague. He writes:
‘I believe that I have identified most of the
players. Standing from left to right are: Hans
Müller, Rudolf Spielmann, N.N., Franz Kunert, N.N.
and Erich Eliskases. Seated: Theophil
Demetriescu, Gisela Harum and Lodewijk Prins.’
7909. Kurt Richter’s Kombinationen (C.N.
7875)
Ola Winfridsson (São Paulo, Brazil) writes:
‘I looked up the Tartakower v Colle game in the
third (1955) edition of Kombinationen
(position 293 on page 127). Tartakower’s name is still
absent, although, as you point out, the names of other
Jewish players, such as Flamberg, Nimzowitsch and
Steinitz, have been restored. Is Tartakower’s name
missing also in other post-War editions of this work?’
Tartakower’s name was added in the fourth (1965)
edition.
Is ‘Frederick Dewhurst Yates’ correct? That version of
his name appeared in his obituary (by P.W. Sergeant) on
pages 525-528 of the December 1932 BCM and on
page 7 of Yates’ posthumous work One-Hundred-and-One
of My Best Games of Chess (London, 1934), which
was ‘arranged and completed’ by W. Winter and ‘edited’
by W.H. Watts. Ever since, ‘Frederick Dewhurst Yates’
has been used unquestioningly.
Leonard
Barden (London) points out to us a most interesting Yorkshire
Chess
History
webpage which states that ‘the popular rendering of
his name as “Frederick Dewhurst Yates” is erroneous’ and
that his name was Fred Dewhirst Yates. [Updated
link.]
The above photograph, from the 1934 book, was given by
us in a ChessBase
article about Yates’ death.
Chess
Notes Archives
Copyright: Edward Winter. All
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