Chess Notes
Edward
Winter
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6980. The Marshall
Gambit
Charles Jaffe and H.E. Cleland – Frank James Marshall
and Edward M. Padelford
New York, circa 15 February 1918
Ruy López
1 e4 e5 2 Nf3 Nc6 3 Bb5 a6 4 Ba4 Nf6 5 O-O Be7 6 Re1 b5 7
Bb3 O-O 8 a4 b4 9 c3
9...d5 10 exd5 Nxd5 11 Nxe5 Nxe5 12 Rxe5 Nf6 13 h3 Bd6 14
Re1 Ng4 15 Qf3 Qh4 16 d4
16...h5 17 Bd5 Rb8 18 Nd2 bxc3 19 bxc3 Be6 20 Bc6 Rb6 21
Ne4 Bh2+ 22 Kh1 f6 23 Ba3 Rxc6 24 Bxf8 Bd5 25 Qf5
25...Be5 26 dxe5 Bxe4 27 Rxe4 Nxf2+ 28 Kg1 Qxe4 29 Qxf2
Kxf8 30 exf6 Rxf6 31 Qc5+ Kg8 32 Rd1 Qe2 33 Rd8+ Kh7 34
Qxc7 Rf1+ 35 Kh2 Qe1 36 White resigns.
Source: Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 7 March 1918, page
6:
The game-score has been contributed by Eduardo Bauzá
Mercére (New York, NY, USA), who writes:
‘With the moves 8 a4 b4 added, here is Marshall
playing his Gambit many months before his encounter
with Capablanca (which was played on 23 October 1918).
The consultation game probably took place on 15
February 1918 at Marshall’s Chess Divan. That was the
day of the third annual dinner, presided over by H.E.
Cleland. A rapid transit tournament was also played
that day (New York Post, 16 February 1918, page
12; see too the American Chess Bulletin, March
1918, page 53).
It will be noted that Marshall even played 16
(15)...h5, a move discussed in your feature article The Marshall Gambit.’
Craig Pritchett (Dunbar, Scotland) draws attention to an
article (‘Chess and the Common Muir of Ayr Hangman’) which
he contributed on page 36 of the June 2008 CHESS.
The sources specified in the article suggest that in the
eighteenth-century case Matthew Hay stood accused of two
murders and that there is much uncertainty over the
alleged ‘That’s checkmate ...’ remark by the judge, Lord
Kames.
6982. Fischer v
Darrach et al.
Further to our
ChessBase
article on Bobby Fischer vs. the Rest of the
World by Brad Darrach (New York, 1974), we are
grateful to Frank Brady (New York, NY, USA) for a copy of
Fischer’s legal complaint (‘Demand for Jury Trial’,
addressed to the United States District Court for the
Central District of California). It was filed in 1975
against 27 parties, including Brad Darrach, Time Inc.,
Stein and Day, the United States Chess Federation, Burt
Hochberg, Edmund Edmondson, Frank Skoff, Martin Morrison
and Leroy Dubeck.
The ‘Plaintiff in pro ter’ was recorded as ‘Robert James
Fischer, 300 Mockingbird Lane, South Pasadena, California.
Tel: 795 5181’. He demanded a jury trial for his
‘complaint for defamation, invasion of privacy and
interference with contractual relations’. The document,
filed under 28 USC Section 1332, was 24 pages long and had
two annexes (exhibits). These comprised advertisements
reproduced from the United States Chess Federation’s
magazine:
Chess Life & Review,
January 1975, page 19
Chess Life & Review,
September 1975, page 603
With much textual repetition the cause of action fell
into eight sections:
- 1. (Against all the Defendants): ‘For libel.’
Fischer claimed that the advertisement for Darrach’s
book in the January 1975 Chess Life & Review
contained ‘statements in writing and a drawn likeness of
Plaintiff which were false and malicious, and set forth
with an intent to injure, disgrace and defame and
humiliate the Plaintiff ... Said language and drawn
likeness portrayed the Plaintiff as grotesque, immature,
paranoid, filthy in his personal habits, avaricious,
peculiar in his relationship with his mother, extremist
and perverted and possessing a number of other
undesirable traits.’
‘... All such charges, references, assertions and
imputations were false, malicious and unprivileged,
and were calculated to and did expose Plaintiff to
hatred, contempt and ridicule, causing him to be
shunned and avoided and proximately caused him to
sustain severe nervous shock and strain, and to suffer
great mental anguish, humiliation, shame and
embarrassment.
As a direct result of the foregoing, Plaintiff has
suffered general damages in the amount of $20 million
US dollars.
As a further result of the foregoing, FIDE Delegates
who would have voted in favor of amending the FIDE
world championship rules in accordance with
Plaintiff’s requests after reading the ad in Chess
Life & Review lost respect for Plaintiff –
did not vote in favor of Plaintiff’s amendments, and
as a result Plaintiff was precluded from amending the
rules for the FIDE world championship match scheduled
for about June 1975 in Manila, Philippines, did not
compete in said match and consequently was damaged in
the amount of $4 million US dollars.
As a further result of the foregoing conduct of
Defendants on or about 1 April 1975 Plaintiff was
stripped of his prestigious FIDE world chess champion
title and thereby damaged greatly in his reputation,
property and business interests, as governments, chess
organizers, individuals and corporations who would
have employed Plaintiff now would not and Plaintiff
has suffered damages in the amount of $16 million US
dollars.’
- 2. (Against all the Defendants): ‘For invasion of
privacy.’ This section of the brief stated that
the Defendants were aware that Fischer had
‘conscientiously and continually attempted to live a
private life, except for necessary disclosures; has
cherished the privacy of his personal life; and has,
indeed, gone to great lengths to avoid public scrutiny
of his private affairs’. The Defendants, it was claimed,
had caused Fischer to be ‘subjected to great
humiliation, indignity’, and he had ‘suffered great
mental pain all to his damage in the sum of $20 million
US dollars’.
- 3. (Against the USCF, E. Edmondson and B.
Hochberg): ‘For interference with contractual
relations.’ The legal text stated that during the
approximate period from June 1971 to September 1972
Fischer and Darrach (as well as Time Inc.) had ‘entered
into a series of agreements which provided, among other
things, that Defendant, Brad Darrach, could not write
any book containing any information gathered by
Defendant, Brad Darrach, from Plaintiff, without
Plaintiff’s permission’. The USCF was advertising and
selling Darrach’s book despite being aware of those
agreements. The Defendants had acted ‘with an intent to
injure the Plaintiff in his contractual relationship and
said acts were done maliciously and oppressively’.
Fischer had ‘suffered damages in the amount of $20
million US dollars’.
- 4. (Against all the Defendants): ‘Appropriation of
the right of publicity.’ Under this count, the
brief claimed that the January 1975 advertisement in Chess
Life & Review had employed confidential
information and that the Defendants had ‘exploited
Plaintiff’s services, personality and confidential
history, appropriating Plaintiff’s interest in that
property, and the market for Plaintiff’s proposed
autobiography’. On this count, ‘Plaintiff has suffered
general damages in the sum of $20 million US dollars’.
- 5. (Against all Defendants): ‘Unfair competition.’
Under this cause of action it was stated that
‘Plaintiff intended to write an autobiography, and
Defendants were aware of that fact’. The brief referred
to the Defendants’ ‘diversion of Plaintiff’s financial
interest in his name and personality’ and asserted that
‘Plaintiff was damaged in his business and chess
career’. It concluded: ‘As a result of the foregoing
conduct, Plaintiff is also entitled to exemplary damages
in the amount of $20 million US dollars.’
- 6. (Against all the Defendants): ‘Appropriation of
right of privacy.’ Most of this section repeated
claims made earlier on. It stated that as a result of
the Defendants’ actions ‘Plaintiff has suffered, in his
chess career and business interests, special damages in
the sum of $20 million US dollars’.
- 7. (Against all Defendants): ‘Intentional
infliction of emotional distress.’ As a result of
the January 1975 advertisement, ‘Plaintiff suffered
severe mental and emotional distress and thereby was
damaged in his business and chess career and as a
proximate result has suffered special damages in the
amount of $20 million US dollars’.
- 8. (Against all Defendants): ‘Conspiracy.’ ‘Defendants
and
each
of
them
conspired
with
one
another
and
amongst
themselves
to
defame
Plaintiff
by
the
publication
of
the
ad
This
had
damaged
Fischer’s
‘chess
career,
business
and
property
interests’
and
Fischer
‘has
suffered
damages
in
the
amount
of
million
US
dollars’.
In each of the eight sections the sum of $20 million US
dollars was claimed against ‘each and all of the
Defendants’, and there was also a request ‘for costs
incurred and such other further relief as the court may
deem just and proper under the circumstances’.
The fate of Fischer’s complaint is related in our
above-mentioned ChessBase article.
6983. Annotating
while playing (C.N. 6930)
No information has yet been found on the practice
ascribed by Reinfeld to Tartakower (the annotation of
games during play). Daniel King (London) asks whether such
writing would have been legal in many events of
Tartakower’s time.
Further to our feature article Old Opening Assessments,
Olimpiu G. Urcan (Singapore) notes a case of a leading
master strongly criticizing an opening shortly before
playing it in an important game. Our correspondent sends
these extracts from the February 1905 American Chess
Bulletin (pages 29-30 and 31 respectively):
It will be recalled that Marshall played the French
Defence (by transposition) in his most famous game, against Levitzky at Breslau,
1912. We add in passing that on page 27 of the
February 1935 Chess Review Arnold Denker wrote
regarding the conclusion of that game:
‘This is by far the finest and most artistic queen
sacrifice that I have ever seen.’
John Blackstone (Las Vegas, NV, USA) draws attention to
an article
about gambling in which Marshall related experiences
in Monte Carlo. It appeared on page 62 of the Otago
Witness of 28 June 1905, with an introductory
paragraph which stated that the item was reproduced from
the New Orleans Picayune. A reporter from the
latter newspaper had recorded the reminiscences during
Marshall’s visit to New Orleans the previous December.
Caution is required. For example, it was back in 1901
that Janowsky came first in a tournament at Monte Carlo,
and his prize was 5,000 francs and an objet d’art
(La Stratégie, 15 March 1901, page 88), and not
8,000 francs as stated in Marshall’s account.
Source: American Chess Bulletin, November page
106.
Andrés Vicente Sanz (Valencia, Spain) sends this chess
column from an unidentified publication (a cutting which
he has had for over 30 years) and asks what information
is available about the purported victory by Adolf
Anderssen over Daniel Harrwitz:
1 e4 e5 2 f4 exf4 3 Bc4 Qh4+ 4 Kf1 g5 5 Nc3 Bg7 6 d4 d6
7 Nf3 Qh5 8 h4 h6 9 e5 g4 10 Ne1 dxe5 11 Nd5 Kd8 12 dxe5
Bd7 13 Nd3 f3 14 Bf4 Ne7
15 Nxc7 fxg2+ 16 Kxg2 Bc6+ 17 Nd5 Nxd5 18 Nb4 Qf5 19
Bxd5 Kc8 Bxc6 bxc6 21 Nd3 Nd7 22 Qe2 Re8 23 Rae1 Rb8 24
Rhf1 Qe6 25 b3 Rb6 26 Kg3 h5 27 Qd2 Kb7 28 c4 Bf8 29 Be3
c5 30 Nf4 Qc6 31 Nd5 Nxe5 32 Nxb6 axb6 33 Qd5 Qxd5 34
cxd5 Nf3 35 Re2 Bd6+ 36 Kf2 Re5 37 Bg5 Rxd5 38 Be7 Be5
39 Rc1 f5 40 a3 f4 41 b4 Bd4+ 42 Kg2 Be3 43 Ra1 Nd4 44
Rea2 f3+ 45 Kh1 Nf5 46 Bg5 g3 47 bxc5 Bxc5 48 a4 Rd4 49
a5 Nxh4 50 axb6 Bxb6 51 Be3 Re4 52 Bxb6 Kxb6 53 Ra6+ Kc7
54 Ra7+ Kd6 55 R1a6+ Ke5 56 Re7+ Kf4 57 Rxe4+ Kxe4 58
Ra4+ Ke3 59 Rxh4 Kf2
60 Rg4 h4 61 Rg8 h3 62 Rg7 g2+ 63 Kh2 Kf1 64 White
resigns.
This is, of course, a further matter requiring
wariness.
This fine photograph was published on page 716 of the
November 1972 Chess Life & Review, to
accompany an obituary of Sir George Thomas by T. Gordon
Pollard.
Quiz question: is everything here straightforward?
6989.
Sixty Years On
Another good portrait of Sir George Thomas is on page 63
of Chess: Sixty Years On with Caissa and Friends
by Alan Phillips (Yorklyn, 2003). The book is
exceptionally well illustrated, and we note this comment
on page 74 under a photograph of Mikhail Tal:
‘In so far as “intelligence” shone forth from a human
face, it shone from his.’
From Leonard Barden (London):
‘I witnessed Tartakower making notes during at
least one game, at one or more of the Southsea
tournaments of 1949, 1950 and 1951, where we both
participated. His game against Ravn at Southsea,
1951, which is in his Best Games collection,
sticks in my mind.
On one occasion I was curious enough to creep up
behind him to see exactly what he was doing. There was
a dense sheet of variations and quite small writing,
and I think he had some difficulty in reading his own
material, pushing his spectacles back on his forehead,
screwing up his eyes, and peering closely. I feel
fairly sure that nobody objected. He was a legend, and
the rules on consulting written material during play
were more relaxed then than now.’
We continue to add to Fischer’s Fury various
pre-Nunn/Burgess attempts to correct Fischer’s analysis in
the game against Bolbochán.
This position was given on page 39 of the August 1990 Chess
Life, in Larry Evans’ ‘What’s the best move?’
feature. The solution (page 58):
Source: Chess Review, October 1939, page 207.
Thomas Niessen (Aachen, Germany) reports that the game
is on pages 193-194 of Harrwitz’s Lehrbuch des
Schachspiels (Berlin, 1862). The heading is
‘Manchester, 1857’ and, contrary to the claim in the
Spanish cutting, Harrwitz was named as Black. In
addition to noting the Harrwitz book, Peter Anderberg
(Harmstorf, Germany) mentions that the game was
published on pages 102-104 of Professor Adolph
Anderssen der langjährige Vorkämpfer deutscher
Schachmeisterschaft by Ludwig Bachmann (Ansbach,
1914). That work too stated that Anderssen had the white
pieces.
Looking further, we have traced the game on pages
142-144 of the May 1858 Chess Monthly. This
provides confirmation that Harrwitz was indeed the
winner, as Black. The closing note reads:
‘This game was the last of a match played during the
Manchester Meeting. Mr Harrwitz says:
“After having lost the game in the tournament to Mr
Anderssen I desired my revenge, and although it was
not laid down in the Progamme a short match was
arranged between us to be decided by the first
winner of three games. I had the good fortune to win
the three in succession and – an unheard-of thing in
England – they were all played at a sitting.”
These games, we believe, have been given in none of
the English or German accounts of the meeting. We are
indebted for the notes to the distinguished second
player.’
6994. Alekhine v Kimura, Tokyo, 1933
A familiar blindfold brilliancy:
1 e4 e5 2 Nf3 Nc6 3 Bb5 a6 4 Bxc6 bxc6 5 d4 exd4 6 Qxd4
d6 7 O-O Be6 8 Nc3 Nf6 9 Bg5 Be7 10 Qa4 Bd7 11 Rad1 O-O 12
e5 Ne8 13 Bxe7 Qxe7 14 exd6 cxd6 15 Rfe1 Qd8 16 Nd4 Qc7 17
Re7 Nf6 18 Nf5 Qd8 19 Rxd6 Re8
20 Ne4 Rxe7 21 Nxf6+ Kh8 22 Nxe7 Qxe7 23 Qe4 Qxe4 24 Nxe4
Be6 25 b3 g6 26 Nc5 Bf5 27 Rxc6 Re8 28 f3 Re2 29 Rxa6 Rxc2
30 Ne4 Be6 31 h4 Kg7 32 Kh2 Kh6 33 Kg3 Bd7 34 a4 f5 35 Ng5
Rc3 36 Ra7 Rd3 37 a5 Kh5 38 Nxh7 Resigns.
This game (Alekhine v Kimura, Tokyo, 20 January 1933)
appeared in the world champion’s second Best Games
volume, and the circumstances were discussed at length on
pages 442-443 of the Alekhine book by L. Skinner and R.
Verhoeven. The co-authors noted that although the game was
widely published at the time, with Kimura listed as one of
the opponents in Alekhine’s exhibition, suspicions had
been expressed as to the game’s authenticity. They
mentioned the following letter from John Kalish on page
273 of the July 1968 Chess Life:
Richard Sams (Tokyo) informs us that an article by Yoshio
Kimura entitled ‘Thoughts on Chess’ was published on pages
190-193 of the magazine Bungei Shunju, April 1933.
Below is the complete text, in our correspondent’s
translation from the Japanese:
‘About a decade has passed since I first took an
interest in Western shogi (chess) and decided that I
would like to study it. At that time, there was a chess
club at the back of the Imperial Hotel and there I first
learned how to play chess under the tutelage of an
Englishman, Mr Havilland, who was apparently once an
amateur chess champion. At first I learned only the
basics, and for a while I had no opponents or
opportunities to play. Fortunately, however, through the
support and guidance of Dr Ishida of the Riken Group and
Professor Mitamura of the Imperial University of Tokyo,
I was able to acquire useful knowledge of chess openings
and strategies. Upon inquiring about the most notable
chess matches, I was surprised to learn the extent to
which chess has gained international popularity as the
ultimate intellectual contest. This aroused my interest
further, giving me an even greater desire to study the
game more deeply.
From that time on, Professor Mitamura helped me with my
studies by providing me not only with well-known books
on chess but also with specialist publications on
matches from Europe and America. I thereby acquired a
little knowledge of the exploits of leading players in
the West and the most recent matches taking place around
the world. This greatly increased my enthusiasm, and I
even came to embrace the conceit and ambition that, if I
could make a serious study of chess as I had of shogi, I
might even be able to compete for the world
championship.
One reason I came to think this is that, because chess
is quite similar to shogi in many respects from strategy
to the deployment of pieces and tactical methods, I
would be able to adapt to its fundamental reasoning.
Furthermore, the fact that, unlike in shogi, the pieces
are no longer in play once they have been captured made
chess seem quite simple (from the viewpoint of a
professional shogi player). Therefore, armed with the
profound technical skills characteristic of shogi, I
might even be able to compete for the world championship
in chess. Until quite recently, I had confidently held
this conviction.
Seven years ago, the Tokyo Chess Club was established
with the late Dr Fukada as President and Dr Masataka Ota
as Vice-President. The inaugural meeting took place at
the Tokyo Kaikan. Subsequent club meetings were held
twice a month in a room in the Imperial Hotel. The
original founding members were Dr Fukada, Viscount
Masatoshi Okouchi, Dr Ota, Count Akira Watanabe, Baron
Tatsukichi Nagakoshi, Mr Jozo Ikoma, Dr Yoshio Ishida,
Dr Masaharu Nishikawa and Professor Atsushiro Mitamura,
together with the professional shogi players Osaki
8-dan, Kon 8-dan and me.
The club met twice a month and, with the attendance of
four or five chess enthusiasts from overseas, it
flourished for a while. It was very enjoyable to do
battle with foreigners over the chess board, but after
Dr Ishida, Professor Mitamura and I decisively defeated
three foreign opponents, including the strong player Mr
Havilland, we found ourselves without any suitable
rivals and had no choice but to play each other. As a
result, the club’s activities gradually fell into
abeyance.
At the time, I was quite intoxicated with feelings of
superiority, having beaten foreigners at chess, but I
was also concerned because I did not really know my true
strength (in the eyes of a professional chessplayer).
Then I learned that the world chess champion Alekhine,
who was en route to a match in Shanghai, was
planning to visit Japan on 16 January for just one week.
I had already heard of Mr Alekhine about seven or eight
years previously and viewed this as a once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity to determine my chess ability. Professor
Mitamura telephoned Mr Alekhine to arrange a meeting,
and we went to his hotel the following day (17 January).
Somehow we missed him at the hotel and had to wait for a
while. As usual, Professor Mitamura was well prepared.
He showed me a photograph of Mr Alekhine at the front of
a book which the world champion had written on a recent
international tournament, so that we could stop him if
we saw him leaving the hotel. Shortly afterwards Mr
Alekhine appeared, and I was introduced to him as a
professional shogi player. He is a splendid-looking
gentleman, well built and easily six feet tall. He was
more approachable than I imagined and seemed to possess
a strong artistic sensibility. When Professor Mitamura
showed me Mr Alekhine’s book, explaining how rich it was
in content as a practical guide for students of chess,
Mr Alekhine’s face seemed to light up, and he at once
became more relaxed and familiar. He said he had heard
that different forms of chess were played in Japan,
China and India, and that, since Japanese chess was
particularly sophisticated, it should be studied. He had
therefore decided to come to Japan to learn more about
it. As professional shogi players, we had considered the
possibility of promoting shogi overseas, but we thought
that it might be hard to understand for Westerners, who
find chess a sufficiently difficult game. We also could
not think of any suitable way of explaining the
excellence of shogi and teaching it. However,
considering that the most effective method would be for
a respected professional chessplayer such as Mr Alekhine
to introduce shogi to the world, I decided to take it
upon myself to teach him the game.
Through the good offices of Dr Ishida we then made
arrangements for a gathering of Japanese and foreign
chess enthusiasts to honor the world champion. The Japan
Shogi Federation undertook to organize a party and
provided various assistance in making the preparations.
We were particularly grateful to Count Yanagisawa for
his help and to Mayor Nagata, who went so far as to
arrange a welcome reception at the Japan Club, where Mr
Alekhine was presented with a souvenir.
When the preparations had been made, what we desired
most of all was for Mr Alekhine to display his skills as
the world chess champion. He agreed to this, proposing
to play a blindfold simultaneous display against all of
us. I thought that, even for the world champion, it
would be difficult to play simultaneously against 14
opponents of different strengths, to keep the positions
in his mind and remember the moves of all the games
without making any oversights, and surely impossible to
win all of them, whatever the difference in strength
between him and his opponents. However, Professor
Mitamura pointed out that, since Mr Alekhine was the
world record holder in blindfold simultaneous chess and
had played blindfold against 26 opponents in New York in
1926 and 28 opponents in Paris in 1928, he should have
no difficulty with just 14 opponents.
Here I think a brief outline of how Mr Alekhine has
succeeded in reaching the pinnacle of world chess will
provide insights into his serious attitude to chess and
his character, which has particularly impressed me. Mr
Alekhine is currently a French citizen living in Paris,
and plays mainly against Russian opponents. A
Polish-Russian, he is 42 years old according to the
Japanese age-counting system. In 1914, while he was
taking part in an international tournament in Mannheim,
Germany, the Great European War broke out and he was for
some reason taken prisoner. After being interned for
almost two months, he was released and returned to
Russia. He was drafted into the army and fought bravely,
but having earlier graduated from law school, he was
soon appointed to serve in the foreign ministry, mainly
undertaking work related to criminal law. After he left
this post, the Russian Revolution occurred and, under
the suspicion of the Soviet Government, he was again
imprisoned for a while, but succeeded in escaping to
Paris five years later. Clearly he experienced great
vicissitudes of fortune up to the time he became a
French citizen in 1921. In 1924, he displayed his
strength at the New York international chess tournament,
where he came third below Lasker and Capablanca, who
took first and second places respectively. In the spring
of 1927, he again took part in an international
tournament in New York, coming second behind the world
champion Capablanca, thereby obtaining the right to
challenge the latter to a match. This took place in
Buenos Aires, Argentina, in the autumn of 1927. After a
two-month long battle, Alekhine won an overwhelming
victory of 6-3 and was crowned world champion. In 1931,
he was challenged by Bogoljubow, another Russian who had
become a German citizen, brilliantly retaining his world
championship title with a score of 6-3. [It will be
noted that Kimura’s biographical information about
Alekhine contains a number of factual errors.]
Alekhine’s record since winning the world championship
has been outstanding. He has not just won first prize in
tournaments all over the world but has also won his
games in fine style. His attitude to chess is deeply
serious and he shows no sign at all of underestimating
his opponent. Although I am considered a strong
chessplayer in Japan, I must seem to him a mere novice.
Nevertheless, when he sat down to play me, he showed no
sign of relaxing his attention, and at moments where an
unexpectedly interesting position arose he studied the
position afterwards and explained it with the attitude
of a researcher. His kindness and obvious passion for
the game made this encounter a very pleasant experience
for me.
Alexander Alekhine
According to Professor Mitamura, the world champion is
well liked all over the world and praised for his
character considerably more than other leading
chessplayers. This reputation speaks volumes about his
nature and breeding. Mr Alekhine says that for him chess
is a way of refining the intellect and should transcend
materialism, a statement which reflects his spiritual
nature. He gives the impression of being very sensitive
and straightforward, with no interest in flattery or
deferring to conventional wisdom. I think that this is
because, as well as being courteous and modest, he is
above all an artist. His attitude calls to mind the
Western tradition of chivalry, which is similar to the
spirit of Bushido in Japan.
We did not have much time to teach shogi to Mr Alekhine
but succeeded in outlining the rules, how the pieces
move, and some basic opening strategies. He is a very
quick learner. When I played a game with Professor
Mitamura to show him an example of actual play, he
indicated a move which he had not expected and asked
about the best move in that position. This no doubt
comes from his knowledge of chess, which gives him a
confidence one rarely sees in people when they first
learn shogi. I am sure that he will be able to introduce
the game in the West based on what he has learned, and
that this will make a great contribution to the future
development of shogi.
Representing the Japan Shogi Federation at the welcome
party on 20 January at the Imperial Hotel were the
Meijin (shogi champion) Sekine, Doi 8-dan, Kon 8-dan,
Hanada 8-dan, and Mr Nakajima. The party was also
attended by chess lovers from both Japan and overseas
who wanted to witness the amazing feat which the world
champion was about to perform, and this made for a very
congenial and pleasant atmosphere. On behalf of the
Japan Shogi Federation, Mr Nakajima made a welcome
speech in fluent English, stating that shogi and chess
came from the same roots and expressing the hope that we
could cooperate for their mutual development. Mr
Alekhine said that, while chess and shogi may constitute
only a small part of our respective cultures, they can
play a significant role in promoting friendship among
the peoples of the world. He promised to introduce shogi
in the West with this aim in mind.
Now it was time for the final event in the program, the
blindfold simultaneous chess display. In addition to Dr
Ishida and Professor Mitamura, Kon 8-dan and I
participated as professional shogi players studying
chess. Also taking part were the foreign chess
enthusiasts Clausnitze, Alexander, Mosler, Baumfeld,
Kramer and Gotzscheke.
All the games in the blindfold display were played
without odds. Thinking that I would have no chance of
winning if I activated my pieces too early in the
opening, I adopted a strategy of defending and waiting
for my opponent to make a mistake. In the end, all 14 of
us lost without much of a struggle. Considering my
initial hopes, I felt quite ashamed of my inability to
put up serious resistance, but I was also deeply
impressed by the world champion’s extraordinary display
of chess skill. On the way home, Kon 8-dan said that he
considered Mr Alekhine’s feat almost inhuman.
Mr Alekhine told Professor Mitamura later that, in view
of my experience in shogi, I could become a strong
chessplayer if I studied intensively for six months. He
says that he would like to visit Japan again next year,
so it seems that he also has desires to study shogi. I
showed him all the hospitality I could during the
remainder of his stay in Tokyo until his departure for
Shanghai on the morning of 22 January.
Finally, I should also like to express my thanks to the
foreigners who took part in the simultaneous display and
all those who attended the event.’
From page 276 of My
Best Games of Chess 1924-1937 by A. Alekhine
(London, 1939)
On the analytical front, we made a brief comment about
Alekhine v Kimura on page 317 of the July 1985 BCM,
pointing out that in Chess Life, January pages
22-23, Jan Frise of Sweden had shown that Alekhine’s note
to 20...Rxe7 was faulty, because after 20...Nxe4 21 Rdxd7
...
... Black can play 21...Qxd7, with the continuation 22
Rxd7 Nc3 (threatening 23...Re1 mate and forcing White to
take perpetual check with 23 Nh6+).
Frise’s discovery (we are aware of no reference to
21...Qxd7 before 1980) was overlooked on page 80 of Alekhine
in Europe and Asia by J. Donaldson, N. Minev and Y.
Seirawan (Seattle, 1993), which misascribed the line to
G.B. Lewis (who had mentioned it much later than Frise,
i.e. in 1985). For further remarks on the Alekhine v
Kimura position, by Larry Evans, see Chess Life,
March 1989 (page 58) and February 2002 (page 32).
On page 361 of Kings, Commoners and Knaves (an
item reproduced in The
Games of Alekhine) we observed regarding Alexander
Alekhine’s Best Games by A. Alekhine (London,
1996):
‘Many analytical emendations pointed out over the years
by third parties are ignored; for instance, Alekhine’s
note to Black’s 20th move in his game against Kimura at
Tokyo, 1933 has been widely censured, but the Batsford
book offers no comment.’
Incidentally, it would appear that Alekhine made a small
factual error in his Best Games book, giving the
number of opponents in the blindfold display as 15,
instead of 14.
Another master who visited Japan in the 1930s was Lajos
Steiner. His report, ‘A Chessplayer Turns Explorer’ on
page 37-38 of the February 1937 Chess Review,
included this paragraph:
‘Among the Japanese themselves, there are, as far as I
know, only two players with real insight into the game.
One is Professor Mitamura, a great pathologist and a
member of the Imperial University of Tokyo. He is a man
of keen intelligence, who speaks English and German
well. Kimura, the greatest living shogi player, is the
other.’
An article on shogi by Larry Kaufman on pages 28-33 of
the September 1983 Chess Life mentioned Kimura
Yoshio and gave a photograph of Korchnoi receiving an
explanation of shogi from Aono Teruichi in London in 1980.
6995. Euwe v Fischer, 1957
Courtesy of Frank Brady (New York, NY, USA) we reproduce
a letter dated 5 March 1957 in which Hans Kmoch forwarded
an invitation to Fischer to play two games against Euwe:
Fischer agreed, but it is only recently that the full
score of the second game, a draw, has become known,
thanks to Dr Brady’s researches.
A photograph showing play in the first game was on the
front cover of the April 1957 issue of Chess Review:
From Larry Crawford (Milford, CT, USA):
‘G.H. Mackenzie was considered the US champion “by
acclaim”, as was Morphy before him. Mackenzie won
the second (Cleveland, 1871), third (Chicago, 1874),
and fifth (New York, 1880) American Chess Congresses
but was too ill to play in the sixth Congress (New
York, 1889). S. Lipschütz was the US player who
finished highest behind the five foreign masters at
New York. On the assumption that Mackenzie had
retired owing to poor health, a claim was made to
consider Lipschütz the new US champion. In February
1890 Showalter finished ahead of Lipschütz at the
third Congress of the US Chess Association, held in
St Louis. Soltis and McCormick wrote on page 29 of
the second edition of The United States Chess
Championship, 1845-1996 (Jefferson, 1997):
“The gentleman farmer from Minerva, Kentucky
[Showalter], then [after St Louis] crowned his
success in a short match with Lipschütz and it was
on the basis of this that he would later say he was
US champion.”
The book gave one game played between Showalter
and Lipschütz (“Match, Louisville 1890”).
There are hints here and there about an 1890
Showalter-Lipschütz match:
- “About this time he [Showalter] won nine straight
games of Lipschütz (including the two games in the
St Louis Tourney), at Cincinnati, Georgetown [KY],
Lexington and Indianapolis, winning a purse of $50
offered by the Indianapolis Club.” (Frank
Leslie’s Popular Monthly, August 1894, page
249).
- “Beaten by Showalter at St Louis and Indianapolis,
he [Lipschütz] subsequently defeated him [Showalter]
in a match in New York by seven to one and seven
draws.” (Frank Leslie’s Popular Monthly,
September 1894, page 250).
- “Played at Indianapolis, in an unfinished match
between Messrs. J.W. Showalter of Georgetown, Ky and
S. Lipschütz of New York, the first and third
prize-winners in the recent US Association Tourney.”
(BCM, May 1890, page 208). In the BCM
one game was given (not the same game as in Soltis
and McCormick’s book).
- “Wie verlautet, werden die Herren Showalter und
Lipschütz einen Match mit Einsatz von 300$ in
Louisville demnächst spielen. (Louisville ist
unterdessen durch einen Orkan verwüstet worden. D.
Red.)” (Deutsche Schachzeitung, April
1890, page 127). That tornado hit Louisville on
March and is unlikely to be relevant to the issue
at hand, unless the match was to be held after
Lipschütz finished his match with Delmar.
- “Showalter and Lipschütz will go together to
Louisville to play a match of seven games for a
prize.” (New York Sun, 12 February 1890, page
4).
I found it easier to track Lipschütz’s movements
in the New York Sun during early 1890 than
those of Showalter. Lipschütz was back in the city
in time to play in the State tournament on 22
February. He also had an ongoing match with Eugene
Delmar. They played two games in January prior to
Lipschütz leaving for St Louis, and they resumed the
match on 4 March. They customarily played games on
Tuesdays and Saturdays, but with adjournments there
were some variations in that schedule. I see games
listed on 4, 8, 11, 18 and 29 March and 5, 12, and
19 April, with games seven and eight probably played
on 22 and 25 March respectively.
Showalter’s match with Judd began on 19 May 1890.
Contemporary newspapers called it a championship
match. Here are a few examples:
- “The first game in the match between Max Judd and
J.W. Showalter at St Louis for the championship of
the United States was played on Monday night.” (New
York Sun, 23 May 1890, page 4).
- “Max Judd, of St Louis, and James [sic] Showalter,
of Kentucky, opened their series of chess contests
at the rooms of the chess club in St Louis last
night for the American championship and a purse of
$500.” (Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 19 May 1890,
page 4).
- “... the chess contest between O. [sic] W.
Showalter, the champion of the United States, and
Max Judd of St Louis for $250 and the championship
...” (New York Evening Post, 21 May 1890,
page 5).
“After the death of Captain Mackenzie, S. Lipschütz,
who had won a number of matches and tournaments, was
recognized both in the East and in the West as the
American champion. That title was given to him by all
the clubs and in the various chess columns published
throughout this country and many of those abroad. I
never heard the same in any way disputed. In 1891,
Showalter challenged Lipschütz for a match for the
American championship and a stake of $750 a side.”
When Max Judd was planning the 1904 St Louis
American Chess Congress he wanted to call the winner
“US champion”. Judd’s position was that while
Pillsbury was the strongest player of his day, he
never played anyone who held the title of US champion
and therefore did not hold the title himself.
Pillsbury objected, and both he and Judd appealed to
Shipley as an arbiter. Shipley detailed the lineage of
the US championship to show that Showalter was, in
fact, US champion when Pillsbury defeated him in 1897.
The first Showalter v Lipschütz match which Shipley
mentioned is the one which Lipschütz won in 1892 (the
challenge was issued in 1891, but the match was played
in 1892). Shipley was well informed on US chess, knew
many top players, and served as the stakeholder for
the 1896 Showalter v Kemény match. Was Shipley’s
omission of an 1890 Showalter v Lipschütz match an
indication that no match took place or that a match
began but was not completed?’
6997. Jeremy Gaige (1927-2011)
Marking the recent
death of Jeremy Gaige, we reproduce C.N. 1491, which
concerned his book Chess Personalia (Jefferson,
1987):
About 14,000 chess personalities past and present are
featured in this awe-inspiring book. From Erkki Aaltio
to Adolf Zytogorski, each entry aims to give the date
and place of birth and, where appropriate, death. A
selection of newspaper, magazine and book sources is
cited, as are FIDE titles, Elo historical ratings, etc.
To take one entry at random:
‘Bogoljubow, Efim Dimitrijewitsch
born: 14 April 1889 Stanislavitsk/Kiev, USSR
died: 18 June 1952 Triberg, Federal Republic of Germany
GM 1951
Elo Historical Rating: 2610
American Chess Bulletin, 1952, page 72
British Chess Magazine, 1952, pages 253-254
Caissa, 1952, pages 133-134
Chess Pie No. l, 1922, pages 8-10
Chess Review, 1952, page 200
Chess Career of E.D. Bogoljubow by Jack Spence
Deutsche Schachzeitung, 1952, pages 224-225
Deutsche Schachblätter, 1952, pages 115-116
Grossmeister Bogoljubow by Alfred Brinckmann
Teplitz-Schönau 1922, pages 567-568.’
His date of birth is marked to indicate that it has
been converted to the Gregorian Calendar (New Style).
As an indication of the vast scope of the book: how
many chessplayers whose surnames begin with Z could the
average enthusiast recite? Gaige lists over 250.
The value of such data is enormous, and the book is
particularly valuable for the details it provides on
relatively minor figures. If the reader wishes to know
the exact date and place of death of Henry Grob (of 1 g4
fame), it is unlikely that he will find the correct
information anywhere other than in Chess Personalia
(3 July at Zollikon, Switzerland, the source of this
information being Stadtarchiv Zurich). In countless
cases the entrants themselves, or their next of kin,
have been contacted for authoritative biographical
information. For old players an astonishing array of
journals is quoted; for Sarratt we are referred to page
of the Bell’s Weekly Messenger and the 14
November 1819 issue of the London Observer.
Chess Personalia is a brilliant achievement. It
will prove indispensable not just to historians and
journalists but also to clubs, federations, libraries
and players, composers, etc. There are precious few
books which we would recommend to our readers as
indispensable, but Chess Personalia is
definitely one of them.
That Jeremy Gaige finds the time and energy for so much
high-quality research is almost miraculous; he stands
supreme as chess’s greatest ever archivist.
A more detailed evaluation of Jeremy Gaige’s chess work
is provided in an article contributed by us on pages 58-60
of the 8/1987 New in Chess.
On 12 March 2011 we placed on record at ChessBase Gaige’s
‘self-obituary’, which he sent us for safe keeping
in 1988.
6998. W.H. Cozens
Jeremy Gaige gathered much data with a biographical form
circulated to chess personalia. By way of example, below
is the sheet completed by W.H. Cozens:
The information about his parents has taken us to the
remarkable Cozensweb
site, which gives many further details.
See also C.N. 3183 in Chess
Jottings.
Russell Miller (Vancouver, WA, USA) has
found the original
article, on page 23 of the Times-Picayune
(New Orleans), 4 December 1904.
It is uncertain whether this photograph was taken at
Hastings, 1937-38 or 1938-39. Nor is the significance of
the name label (‘J.B. Morgan’?) apparent. Above all, of
course, the board is incorrectly set (rotated by 90
degrees).
7001. Zugzwang in a queen ending
From page 88 of The Pleasures of Chess by Assiac
(New York, 1952):
The solution on page 186:
Tracing the position backwards, we note, firstly, the
following on page 42 of Chess Review, February
1935, in an article ‘Mistakes of the Masters’ by Lester W.
Brand:
It will be seen that the players’ names are inverted
compared to Assiac’s version, with a different date (1922
instead of 1916).
A more detailed account of the ending was given on page
262 of the August 1916 BCM:
A crosstable of the championship of Victoria, a
double-round tournament played in Melbourne from 19 April
to 21 July 1916, was presented in volume one of The
Records of Australian Chess by John van Manen
(Modbury Heights, 1986). Compiled from reports in the Australasian,
April-July 1916, the crosstable shows that Loughran scored
a win and a draw against Harrison.
Can further information be found about the above Harrison
v Loughran game?
Two leading players supposedly depicted in sketches in
a recent chess book:
7003. Blind pigs (C.N.s 3494, 3525, 5160
& 6108)
From page 215 of The Golden Treasury of Chess by
Francis J. Wellmuth (Philadelphia, 1943):
John Blackstone (Las Vegas, NV, USA) draws attention to
an article ‘An Adult Views All These Child Prodigies
With Alarm’ by Edwin H. Blanchard in the New York
Evening Post, 3 December 1920. Below is the
paragraph regarding chess:
‘This invasion of the innocents is not confined to
literature. Take Samuel Rzesce – that is, Samuel
Rcezcs – well, you know whom I mean – the Polish boy
wizard, eight years old or so, who comes over here and
beats the pick of West Point playing chess. What’s to
be made from that? What’s the sense of spending a lot
of money training army officers for four years if a
child eight years old can come over from Poland and
beat them all at once? What’s to prevent Samuel, the
boy wonder, from going back to Poland and getting four
or five of his little chums and coming back here and
capturing the entire coast defences? The thing is
internationally serious.’
From an article by Boris Spassky ‘The
Petrosian-Korchnoi Match: Petrosian Was True to Himself’
on pages 625-627 of the November 1971 Chess Life
& Review:
‘The most outstanding feature in the style of
ex-world champion Tigran Petrosian is his desire to
keep his opponent at his own distance. This
can be seen in every game as well as in the overall
plan of the match. This is purely his own individual
style, his chess character.
Victor Korchnoi may be described as a searching
chessplayer. To me, he seems more a destroyer of the
other player’s plans and positions rather than a
creator. His strength is most evident in
counter-attacks. He is known for his flexible playing
style and colossal energy and working capacity during
a game ...
Korchnoi is also a fighter with stubbornness that
anyone could envy. He is tenacious in defense and can
become quite “angry” – in the sports sense of that
word. When he tackles a problem that comes up over the
board, I believe the Leningrad grandmaster has a
tendency not to trust his intuition; rather, he relies
more on hard, cold calculations. His ability to figure
out various continuations far in advance helps him in
the endgame.
By his style, Korchnoi is more a tournament player
than a match player. Sometimes, when he gets carried
away by his ideas and original plans he does not
reckon with the more prosaic aspects of chess. One of
his shortcomings in his “ability” to get into
time-trouble.
Comparing the styles of the two players, it must be
said that Petrosian is a tough opponent for Korchnoi.
After all, during the course of the struggle Korchnoi
has to be able to discover his opponent’s plan in
order to begin “destroying” it. But Petrosian’s style
is often based on waiting, maneuvering, “semi-tones”.
That is why the temperamental Korchnoi often had to
shoot at blind targets.’
CHESS, February
1947, page 145
CHESS, February
1948, page 129.
7007. Zugzwang in a queen ending
(C.N. 7001)
Christian Sánchez (Rosario, Argentina) comments that in
various editions of Kurt Richter’s books Schachmatt
and Kombinationen the game ending was given as
either Harrison v Longhran or Longhran v Harrison (and not
with the correct spelling Loughran).
Our correspondent adds that he has the conclusion of the
game in a database with a specific date (26 April 1916).
What is the source of that information?
‘It is our conviction that no recorded victory over
the great champion approaches this game in beauty of
combination.’
That remark comes from the Elizabeth Herald (New
Jersey), in a set of notes reproduced on page 309 of the
Chess Player’s Chronicle, 27 February 1884.
Johannes Hermann Zukertort – John Dunlap Adair
Chicago, 10 January 1884
King’s Gambit Accepted
1 e4 e5 2 Nc3 Nc6 3 f4 exf4 4 Nf3 g5 5 h4 g4 6 Ng5 h6 7
Nxf7 Kxf7 8 d4 d5 9 exd5 Nce7 10 Bc4 Kg7 11 O-O f3 12
gxf3 g3 13 Bf4 Nf5 14 Be5+ Nf6 15 Ne4 Be7 16 Qd2 Rf8 17
Qf4 Kh7 18 Bd3 Nxd5 19 Qg4
19...Nde3 20 Qh5 Bxh4 21 Rfe1 Nd5 22 Re2 Nb4 23 Bc4
Nxd4
24 Rd2 Nxf3+ 25 Qxf3 Rxf3 26 Rxd8 Bxd8 27 White
resigns.
Page 290 of A Chess Omnibus mentioned a
subsequent report that a correspondent of the New
Orleans Times-Democrat had noted a forced mate in
three with 24 Bg8+. Does any reader have access to the
relevant issue of the newspaper?
Adair scored another win over Zukertort the same day,
in 22 moves. See, for instance, page 93 of the Brooklyn
Chess Chronicle, 15 March 1884, page 173 of the
May 1884 BCM and page 81 of The Golden
Treasury of Chess by Francis J. Wellmuth
(Philadelphia, 1943). The Wellmuth book misdated the
game 10 January 1886.
The circumstances of the encounters were recorded on
page 167 of the February 1884 Chess Monthly:
‘On Thursday, 10 January, the champion met and fought
Mr James Morgan in a game lasting five hours, which
resulted in a draw. In the evening Dr Zukertort won
two games from Mr Hosmer. He was then beaten two games
out of four by Mr John D. Adair, a well-known lawyer
of Chicago and secretary of the local chess club. Both
games scored by Mr Adair were brilliant specimens of
the Allgaier, in which he is remarkably strong. On
Monday evening Mr Adair again succeeded in winning a
game, making the score between them: Zukertort 6,
Adair 3. This is believed to be the best record made
against the distinguished visitor thus far by any
player in America.’
Jeremy Gaige’s Chess Personalia
has an entry for Colonel John Dunlap Adair (1843-1903).
We note too an
historical society’s webpage which has a photograph
of Adair, provides a summary of his military and legal
careers and refers to his strength as a chessplayer.
Boris Spassky and
Viswanathan Anand
The sketches come from Key Chess Puzzles by
Robert J. Richey (Bloomington, 2011). A further
identification challenge:
See C.N. 4399 for another resemblance-free sketch of
the same master.
For an example of the prose content of Mr Richey’s
book, we go no further than pages 1-2, with the
procedure for the ‘Game Startup’ explained in all its
intricacy:
7010.
Chessworld
Only three issues of the exceptional magazine Chessworld
were published (in the first half of 1964), but there
were some memorable scoops, including, in the first issue,
Fischer’s ‘The Ten Greatest Masters in History’.
The magazine’s editor and publisher, Frank Brady, has
generously allowed us to reproduce the complete article.
It is given in ‘Fischer’s
Views on Chess Masters’, where, in due course, more
Fischer quotes will be added from other sources.
7011. Damiano’s Defence
Han Bükülmez (Ecublens, Switzerland) asks about a line in
Damiano’s Defence which was discussed in Gary Lane’s Opening
Lanes article of 2 March 2011: 1 e4 e5 2 Nf3 f6 3
Nxe5 fxe5 4 Qh5+ Ke7 5 Qxe5+ Kf7 6 Bc4+ d5 7 Bxd5+ Kg6 8
h4 h5
At this point Lane wrote:
‘9 Bxb7! This is the move that has sealed the fate of
the Damiano Defence. White wins material and still has a
terrific attack in reserve. I came up with this move
some time ago thanks to the help of the computer and no
doubt others have also discovered it, but as far as I
know nobody has had the chance to play it at the board.’
We would simply point out that 9 Bxb7 goes back to
Gioacchino Greco. See, for instance, page 72 of The
Games of Greco by Professor Hoffmann (London, 1900):
C.N. 3417 quoted a brief text by Huxley St John Brooks
which C.J.S. Purdy described as ‘the best short humorous
chess sketch ever written’. Below is another piece by the
same writer, from page 291 of the Chess World, 8
April 1933:
7013. Alekhine interview
Is any reader able to supply the original version of an
interview with Alekhine published in the Toronto Daily
Star, 14 November 1932? Currently we have only the
text reproduced on pages 174-176 of the Chess World,
January 1933.
From Mark N. Taylor (Mt Berry, GA, USA):
‘The anecdote about Judge Kames’ “checkmate” comment
resembles the better-known Sir Walter Scott story
which is attributed to Judge Braxfield – and for good
reason. I believe that the earliest published source
of the story is pages 569-570 of volume one of Memoirs
of the Life of Sir Walter Scott by John Gibson
Lockhart. The quote below is taken from the edition
published in Philadelphia in 1837:
“Scott told, among others, a story, which he was fond
of telling, of his old friend the Lord Justice-Clerk
Braxfield; and the commentary of his Royal Highness
[the Prince Regent, the future King George IV] on
hearing it amused Scott, who often mentioned it
afterwards. The anecdote is this: Braxfield, whenever
he went on a particular circuit, was in the habit of
visiting a gentleman of good fortune in the
neighbourhood of one of the assize towns, and staying
at least one night, which, being both of them ardent
chessplayers, they usually concluded with their
favourite game. One Spring circuit the battle was not
decided at daybreak, so the Justice-Clerk said, ‘Weel,
Donald, I must e’en come back this gate in the
harvest, and let the game lie ower for the present’;
and back he came in October, but not to his old
friend’s hospitable house; for that gentleman had, in
the interim, been apprehended on a capital charge (of
forgery), and his name stood on the Porteous Roll,
or list of those who were about to be tried under his
former guest’s auspices. The laird was indicted and
tried accordingly, and the jury returned a verdict of
guilty. Braxfield forthwith put on his cocked hat
(which answers to the black cap in England), and
pronounced the sentence of the law in the usual terms,
‘To be hanged by the neck until you be dead; and may
the Lord have mercy upon your unhappy soul!’ Having
concluded this awful formula in his most sonorous
cadence, Braxfield, dismounting his formidable beaver,
gave a familiar nod to his unfortunate acquaintance,
and said to him, in a sort of chuckling whisper, ‘And
now Donald, my man, I think I’ve checkmated you for
ance’. The Regent laughed heartily at this specimen of
Macqueen’s brutal humour; and ‘I’faith, Walter’, said
he, ‘this old big-wig seems to have taken things as
coolly as my tyrannical self.’”
Source: Scottish Men
of Letters in the Eighteenth Century by Henry
Grey Graham (London, 1901)
As Craig Pritchett pointed out in his article in the
June 2008 CHESS, the problems with Lockhart’s
account were noted by Lord Henry Cockburn on pages
117-118 of Memorials of his Time (Edinburgh,
1856):
“When Lord Kames, an indefatigable and speculative
but coarse man, tried Matthew Hay, with whom he used
to play at chess, for murder at Ayr in September 1780,
he exclaimed, when the verdict of guilty was returned,
‘That’s checkmate to you, Matthew!’ Besides general
and uncontradicted notoriety, I had this fact from
Lord Hermand, who was one of the counsel at the trial,
and never forgot a piece of judicial cruelty which
excited his horror and anger.
Scott is said to have told this story to the Prince
Regent. If he did so, he would certainly tell it
accurately, because he knew the facts quite well. But
in reporting what Sir Walter had said at the royal
table, the Lord Chief Commissioner Adam confused the
matter, and called the judge Braxfield, the crime
forgery, and the circuit town Dumfries; and this
inaccurate account was given by Mr Lockhart in his
first edition of Scott’s life (chapter 34). Braxfield
was one of the judges at Hay’s trial, but he had
nothing to do with the checkmate.’
In “Lord Braxfield: The Original Weir of Hermiston”
(The New Review, October 1896, pages 437-450),
Francis Watt put to rest the Braxfield attribution and
is, as far as I can trace, the first to suggest that
the comment was made as an aside to Braxfield and not
directed at the condemned man. From page 443:
“This story was told in the first edition of
Lockhart’s Life of Scott; but Lockhart
afterwards expressly apologized to the family for it.
Braxfield, it seems, could not play chess at all and
the anecdote belongs to another judge, and sets forth,
I fancy, an aside to Braxfield, who was present at the
trial.”
This brings us to Henry Grey Graham’s heightened
retelling in 1901 (cited in C.N. 6968), relishing in
the horror of the judge who “dearly loved the ‘hanging
circuit’”.
Peter Stein’s 1957 article on the 1780 trial in the
Juridical Review (also mentioned by Pritchett)
seems to come to the same conclusion as Watt’s and
Graham’s “fancy” about the circumstances of the
“checkmate” utterance as an aside, but he suggests
that it may have been delivered out of the condemned
man’s hearing, issued out of “quiet reflection” rather
than the vicious cruelty of a “hanging judge”.
The reading of this anecdote has shifted
considerably over the years. The anecdote served as
the basis of an even more fanciful work, “Checkmate”
by Moray McLaren, on pages 66-71 of Scottish
Short Stories edited by Fred Urquhart (London, 1957).
A judge, named Lord Karnockie, is jealous of Kames’
famous witticism and hopes, in the presence of Kames
and Braxfield, to do one better. He is presented with
a condemned gentleman accused of manslaughter, named
Wattie Stewart, to whom Karnockie always lost at
chess. Wattie, however, is able to take revenge in the
courtroom, which forces a new and final witticism from
the hanging judge.’
We add that an extensive passage from Memoirs of the
Life of Sir Walter Scott, including the ‘checkmate’
story, was quoted on pages 238-240 of the Chess
Player’s Chronicle, 1842. The anecdote was not
mentioned in ‘Sir Walter Scott on Chess’ by H.R.H. on
pages 530-531 of the December 1891 BCM (an
article included in Reinfeld’s The Treasury of Chess
Lore) but was discussed by the magazine in 1907
(January, page 23 and February, pages 67-69).
7015.
Jonathan Penrose
From the front cover of Chess Review, May 1950:
Wayne D. Komer (Toronto, Canada) and Stephen Wright
(Vancouver, Canada) have provided the interview with
Alekhine by Archibald Lampman, as published in the Toronto
Daily Star, 14 November 1932, page 3.
We have transcribed the full text:
‘World’s Champion is Here to Play Chess
Blindfolded
Alekhine Hasn’t Even a Board, But He’ll Play 40 Boards
Tonight
Sentenced to Die
By Archibald Lampman
‘The world’s champion chessplayer blew into town today
without even a chess board, or any idea where to get
one. He has a sunny smile and a date to play 40 boards
simultaneously against Toronto’s chess elite tonight.
And just to show he’s not fooling, he’ll play a couple
of games blindfolded. He’s Dr Alexander Alekhine and
he’s wondering how to put in the time till his
engagement. He thinks he’ll play bridge.
Banish forever mental pictures of chess champions with
deep, brooding eyes, who make slow motion look like a
fourth alarm. It’s the bunk. As we chatted with Dr
Alekhine in the King Edward rotunda today he told us
chess was a grand game if you didn’t take it too
seriously.
Seeing the World
In a whirlwind finish (for chess) Dr Alekhine relieved
Capablanca of the world’s title in Buenos Aires in 1927.
Since then, as far as we gathered from the doctor’s
discourse, he has been having a good time seeing the
world, not letting chess get him, and feeling lucky that
he made a success of his chosen vocation. He’s a
qualified lawyer, an exile from Russia of noble birth,
now a French citizen, and has a 12-year-old son,
Alexander, back in Paris, who can’t play chess for nuts
and is proud of it.
“Are you good at figures, doctor?”, we asked. “I mean
are you one of those chaps who can juggle a hatful and
know all the answers?”
“No good at mathematics at all”, he says surprisingly.
“No good at any of the exact sciences.” “Well, don’t you
call chess an exact science?” “No, it’s an art. I’m
pretty good at philosophy and all the abstract
sciences.”
“Tell us, doctor – how do you train for these big
bouts?” “Train? I don’t train – I knew all about it long
ago – I haven’t even got a chess board.” Anybody lend
the doctor a chess board?
“You mean to say you won’t slip upstairs and have a
couple of rounds of shadow boxing with the chess board
before you encounter the boys tonight?” He laughed. “I
don’t know how I’ll put in the time – maybe play a
little bridge.” “Good at bridge?” “Just a fairly good
player.”
Eats No Brain Food
“Eat anything special for these tilts – brain food, for
instance?” There’s a catch somewhere – we know. “No.”
“What about coffee?” “Oh, I drink coffee sometimes
during the game.” Then he fooled us again. “But just
because I like it.”
He says any master of chess could play these massed
formation games. And they are just about 40 recognized
masters in the world. New York, he says, is probably the
world’s greatest chess centre now. “And Toronto?” “Tell
you tomorrow”, he says.
“I played 50 boards four to a board in New York”, says
he. “Consulting playing – the four to each board
consulted on each move against me.”
“Tired after?” “Yes – a little”, he admits, “it was
about the hardest I’ve played.” But then he played 60
boards in Paris with five to a board and says he felt
fine afterward.
“Ever dream about chess?” For instance tonight’s game
will take him six hours or so. “No – say that’s the
funny part – I dream about everything else – bridge,
tennis, everything.” So, if you dream about chess, that
would seem to let you out – as a chessplayer.
Women Not Good Players
“Women good at chess?” “No – they’re not”, he says
smiling. And, by the way, if all the Moscow lads smile
like that, the home town can’t be so bad after all. “And
that’s funny too – because they’re good at bridge and
other things – but not chess.” “Just another mystery.”
“About women?” “Yes, just one more.”
He has a library of 1,600 books on chess. “Read them
all?”, we asked. “No”, he says off-hand, “I know what’s
in them.” He has written eight books on chess himself.
“Anybody around the world now that can beat you, do you
think?” “No, I don’t think so. I have beaten them all”,
he says, although I only beat Capablanca by a small
margin. I just want to hold my own against my own
generation. If one of the younger generation came along
and beat me – well – .” He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t
care.”
“No hard feelings, eh, toward the youngsters?” “No;
none at all.”
Has “Off” Moments
He doesn’t always win all the games in a massed
contest. He says he has his “off” moments, just like
anybody else.
“About how many wins would you average?” “H-m-m – about
80%. I don’t know.”
“One mustn’t take chess too seriously”, he says, just
as though he didn’t care.
“Not like they do in bridge”, we suggested. “Not like
some people do”, he corrected. Although the rules of
chess have been the same for a couple of thousand years,
the technique has changed in the last 70 years, when it
became of international interest. You’ve got to study
the players as well as the board.”
“Didn’t Haroun Al Raschid study his antagonist?” “No;
they just looked at the board.”
He says chess originated in Persia.
We switched to the man himself. By the way, he smoked
one cigarette after another as he talked to us – if
that’s any help to you chess aspirants. And so did we,
if that’s any interest. “You come from a noble family?”,
we opened tentatively, as you can’t tell how people are
going to look on this kind of thing.
“Yes – my father was marshal of Voronesh”, he says,
“Russia under the czar was divided into states – my
father was head of one of those states.”
Under Death Sentence
“Did your family suffer a lot in the revolution?” No –
not so much. I was sentenced to death”, he says,
something like “The traffic cop hands me a ticket, see.”
“Sentenced to death! – well, how did you get out of
that?” We had to arouse some interest in the man about
his own death sentence. He just shrugged his shoulder.
“Blew over, eh? – this shooting business?” He laughed
his sunny laugh again. “Yes – just blew over.”
He was an officer in the German [sic; the Chess
World corrected this to Russian] army. He’s 40
now, so he couldn’t have been any veteran then. He’s
also a reserve officer in the French army as well as
being a lawyer. So that’s why he doesn’t care whether he
wins or not. Twelve years ago he left Moscow for the
last time.
“I’m practically an exile now”, he says, as though
exiling was a great sport. “Why’s that?”, we asked.
“Just because they don’t like you?” “No, they don’t like
me – and I’m anti-Communist.”
He says in the old days there’d be about a million
grade A chessplayers in Russia. Moscow was a great
centre. “Didn’t the Soviets do something about the chess
boards – kings and queens and everything?” “No, they
didn’t worry about them. They still play chess.”
Started at Age of Seven
Dr Alekhine started to play chess at the age of seven.
The family made him quit. “I was always good”, he said,
as naturally as you’d say, “I’m punk at bridge”. He
began again at 12. They let him go to it. He joined the
local club at 15. And at 16 was a master of chess. Tie
that.
“Was your dad good at chess?” “He played, but he wasn’t
much good”, he said. By the way, there have only been
seven or eight chess champions in the last 250 years.
It’s not one of those things you rush into.
“When are you going to quit?” “Oh, I don’t know –
perhaps I’ll practise law later on.” He’s going to the
Far East to clean up on Gandhi’s crowd and then the
Aussi playboys.
“Sure you’re not worrying about tonight?” He grins –
jaunty, we call it. “Not much”, he says, and grabs our
hand.’
7017. The earliest
Caro-Kann Defence (C.N. s 2188 & 2389)
We are still looking for very early specimens of 1 e4 c6.
The first occurrence found so far (see page 89 of A
Chess Omnibus) was between unnamed players,
published on pages 336-337 of the Chess Player’s
Chronicle, 1845 (not 1846). It began 1 e4 c6 2 d4 e5
3 dxe5 Qa5+ 4 Nc3 Qxe5 5 Nf3 Qc7, bringing about a
position which, as mentioned in C.N. 2389, arose in the
simultaneous game Fischer v Fajkus, Cicero, 1964.
Below is an article by the Badmaster, G.H. Diggle, from
page 28 of Chess Characters (Geneva, 1984). It
originally appeared in Newsflash, November 1977.
‘The BCF Congress at Yarmouth, 1935, really was done in
style. The Mayor and Mayoress and their “able
assistants” put on a royal show on the opening day; 150
guests sat down to tea; the Mayor and Canon Gordon Ross
(President, BCF) made “topping speeches”; a musical
programme was provided; and there was even an “OYEZ”
Official posted at the entrance who first whispered to
the BM “May I have your name, sir?” and then announced
to the assembly in stentorian yet fruity tones: “MR
BEDMAISTER & FAMILY!!” Though no-one in fact took a
blind bit of notice, it “made the BM’s day”.
The British Championship was won by W. Winter, who
(perhaps in deference to the high sartorial standard at
the Congress) appeared most immaculate throughout,
clean-shaven in a smart blazer and grey flannels. He
scored 8½, followed by Sir George with 7½ and H.
Golombek, A. Lenton and R.P. Michell (7). The Ladies’
Championship went to Mrs Michell. Other Sections were
full of well-known names – the Major Open Reserves
included H.V. Mallison, C.S. Damant, W.H. Watts and S.D.
Ward (who recently celebrated 50 years’ membership of
the Bury and West Suffolk C.C.); in the First Class were
John Keeble (a prize-winner in his 80th year) and Rev.
A.P. Lacy Hulbert; in the Third Class, A. Aird Thomson
(with a clean score of 11), followed by G. Veglio with
10. But the most remarkable sideshow was the Major Open.
Nine out of the 12 competitors were foreigners, and
included the young Reshevsky, Dr Seitz, Vera Menchik,
A.G. Condé, E. Klein and the popular Sonja Graf. Great
Britain was represented by B.H. Wood, A.J. Butcher (who,
the BM remembers, put up a stout fight against Reshevsky
in the opening round) and F.E.A. Kitto. Reshevsky came
first with ten points out of 11, losing only to V.
Menchik on time-limit – “in this respect”, wrote A.J.
Mackenzie, “he constantly sails so near the wind that he
was bound to be caught some time”.
There was one “incident”. In a very interesting
adjourned game between Sonja Graf and her compatriot
Fajarowitz, the position was put down wrongly in the
sealed envelope. Neither player noticed when the game
was resumed from the wrong position, and it ended in a
draw. But in the meantime some interested pundits had
set up the right position from memory and found a dead
win for Sonja in all variations. When “the balloon went
up” about this later, she could under FIDE Rules have
demanded a replay from the correct position but “the
Munich lady sportingly elected to abide by the drawn
result already reached”.’
The ‘incident’ in the game between Fajarowitz
(Fajarowicz) and Graf was discussed on pages 356-357 of
the August 1935 BCM:
‘A difficult decision under the FIDE laws of chess was
avoided. In the adjourned game between Fajarowitz and
Fräulein Graf the position for sealed move purposes was
put down wrongly. (Rule 21 (iv) makes both parties
responsible for its correctness.) However, on resumption
this position was set up on the board, the game finished
and drawn. The game had been of much interest and a
number of parties were sufficiently interested to hold
“post mortems”, setting up from memory the correct
position. Later the two players joined in, and a dead
win in all variations was established for Sonja Graf.
And then they learnt first about the incorrect diagram.
Rule 21 (viii) says if the position be reinstated
incorrectly all the subsequent moves are annulled and
the game has to be resumed from the correct position. A
claim to replay was at first made, and the officials
were called on to decide the point. The complication of
the after-analysis, with the extra difficulty that the
exact winning lines were known, would have made a
decision rather troublesome, but the Munich lady
recognized the unfairness to Fajarowitz involved and
sportingly elected to abide by the drawn result already
reached. Any other course would have led to a very
ironic position, since Fajarowitz himself was the chief
agent in establishing the winning lines for his
opponent.’
The adjournment position was given on page 20 of CHESS,
14 September 1935:
On page 3 of the same issue Sonja Graf’s ‘sporting
action’ was praised:
The famous Colle game referred to was, in fact, lost by
him. It was his opponent, A. Steiner, who placed his king
on the wrong square, at Budapest, 1926. See, for instance,
Znosko-Borovsky’s report on page 132 of L’Echiquier,
July as well as accounts in many popular books, such as on
page of Wonders and Curiosities of Chess by Irving
Chernev (New York, 1974).
7019. Pronouncing Euwe
From page 3 of the 14 September 1935 CHESS:
‘For the benefit of those to whom Dutch pronunciation
is a trouble, we might mention that “Euwe” is pronounced
like “Minerva” without the “Min”.’
Some verse by H.D’O. Bernard was published on page 47 of
the February 1941 BCM:
‘A Dutchman exclaimed with some fervour –
“When writing to our Doctor Euwe
Kindly say it’s untrue we
Pronounce it as Youwe
It is rather more Yerver than Erver.”’
C.J.S. Purdy discussed the matter on page 137 of Chess
World, 1 June 1950:
‘Euwe. There is no way of anglicizing this famous name
satisfactorily, so the best idea is to get reasonably
close to the Dutch. The “eu” is not pronounced
“oy” as in German, but is a seasick sound between “oy”
and “ee”. The “w” is between “w” and “v” and nearer “w”,
Dr Euwe has explained to us. If you listen to a Dutchman
you’ll hear him glide over it so lightly that you can
take your pick. The normal English “near enough”
pronunciation is “Erva” as in “Minerva”.’
On page 357 of the December 1958 Chess Review
J.S. Battell stated, ‘Euwe in Roman alphabet, pronounced
Er-va’. The first edition of The Oxford Companion to
Chess (page 105) had ‘ervour as in fervour’, whereas
the second edition (page 126) gave ‘erwe as in Derwent’.
From our archives comes this photograph of Euwe during
his match with Capablanca in 1931:
We are very grateful to Michael Syngros (Amarousion,
Greece) for compiling a list
of Chess Notes items written since the column first
appeared online, in 2002. The compilation will be updated
and expanded from time to time.
7021. Who?
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