Chess Notes
Edward
Winter
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7133. Chess and Hollywood
As a complement to Chess
and Television we have prepared a new feature
article, Chess and
Hollywood.
The cast includes Humphrey Bogart, Charlie Chaplin, Mae
Clarke, Lee J. Cobb, Linda Darnell, James Dean, Olivia de
Havilland, Alain Delon, Marlene Dietrich, Marie Dressler,
José Ferrer, Errol Flynn, Clark Gable, Viveca Lindfors,
Myrna Loy, Ray Milland, Carmen Miranda, Basil Rathbone,
James Stewart, Franchot Tone, Spencer Tracy, Lana Turner
and Rudolph Valentino.
7134. Capablanca explains his defeat by
Alekhine
John Blackstone (Las Vegas, NV, USA) has forwarded this
interview with Capablanca on page C3 of the Brooklyn
Daily Eagle, 12 February 1928:
A few gleanings:
- Asked whether his match loss to Alekhine surprised
him, Capablanca said:
‘I confess it did. I never dreamt that my former good
form could fail me at such an inopportune time. But Dr
Alekhine is worthy of any man’s steel. If you don’t
believe it, try it.’
‘I cannot fully explain it and I hate alibis. The
fact is that I was not my normal self and I made
mistakes that now that I look back upon them are quite
unaccountable.’
- After throwing away a win in game 27:
‘I knew then that the jig was up.’
‘Yes, that was shocking. I cannot recognize myself as
the player who lost it.’
‘The opening of the game has been so thoroughly
analyzed and masters have the middle-game combinations
down so pat that there is little of mystery in the game
for them. Given a clear head and good health, there
should be no trouble in drawing a game at will.’
From page ii:
Focus on Hocus-Pocus by E. Brecher and D. Roth
was published by Panacea Press Ltd., London in 2004.
7136.
Emma
Keesing
Alain Biénabe (Bordeaux, France) enquires about
photographs of Reuben Fine’s first wife, Emma Keesing
(1916-60).
We recall the following on page 3 of CHESS, 14
September 1937:
She was aged 21 at the time of their marriage.
The same magazine (14 December 1938 issue, page 142) gave
this picture in its coverage of AVRO, 1938:
Two contributions from readers which originally
appeared in 1983 (C.N.s 526 and 560) are reproduced
below:
John C. Rather (Kensington, MD, USA) writes:
‘Consider Botvinnik’s indifferent performance as a
match player. Despite his long, albeit intermittent,
tenure as world champion, he never won a match when
defending his title and his overall record of +2 –3
=2 in matches and +36 –39 =82 in points is not
impressive.
If one believed in the conspiratorial theory of
chess history, the drawn matches with Bronstein and
Smyslov and what seemed like the
Alphonse-and-Gastoning that followed might be
thought to be part of a plot to aggrandize Soviet
chess. However, a closer look at Botvinnik’s
cumulative performance in the seven matches suggests
a more plausible explanation. In games 1-8 he scored
+16 –13 =27; in games 8-16 the tally was +15 –11
=30; but after game 16 he could do no better than +5
–15 =25. Surely this raises a question about his
physical and/or psychological stamina.
He did come from behind in his 1933 match with
Flohr (+2 –2 =8 ), but the closing collapse occurred
against Levenfish in 1937 when he scored only +1 –3
at the end, to allow the +5 –5 =3 result. The date
of the latter match indicates that his problems in
the championship matches may not be attributed to
his age alone.’
From William Hartston (Cambridge, England):
‘I had a conversation with Spassky last year which
I think throws some light on C.N. 526 (Botvinnik’s
match record). I had always supposed that Botvinnik
took his first matches rather lightly, in the
knowledge that he had the right to a return match if
he lost. Spassky’s explanation was more convincing,
bearing in mind what we know about Botvinnik’s
meticulous approach. He claimed that Botvinnik had
already started his preparations for the return
match while the first match was in progress. Indeed,
one might even accuse him of using the first match
as part of those preparations. The exhausting
process of winning through the qualifying
tournaments, then beating Botvinnik left Smyslov and
Tal too exhausted to put up a fight in the “serious”
match which followed. With that gloss on chess
history, we should perhaps be less impressed with
the achievements of Bronstein and Smyslov in 1951
and 1954 in “only” drawing with a man who was just
sizing them up for the big fight. Spassky said that
he once told Botvinnik of his conclusions; the old
man just glared at him and said, “You are very
clever”.’
Frontispiece of Botwinnik
lehrt Schach by Hans Müller (Berlin-Frohnau,
1967)
7138.
Fast chess
Vladislav Tkachiev (Moscow) draws to our attention his
new website WhyChess,
which takes a particular interest in blitz chess.
Our correspondent raised a number of questions on the
subject in C.N. 2231 (see page 71 of A Chess Omnibus),
and we have now brought together that item and other
relevant material in a feature article, Fast Chess.
7139. Raubitschek/Raubitscheck
John Hilbert (Amherst, NY, USA) asks what can be found
concerning Robert/Rudolf/Rudolph Raubitschek/Raubitscheck.
The two spellings of the surname were used more or less
interchangeably by the American Chess Bulletin
during the relevant period (the first two decades of the
twentieth century). The only information in the entries
for Robert and Rudolf in Jeremy Gaige’s Chess
Personalia is that the former was born in Vienna on
1 November 1876. Our correspondent comments:
‘It appears that databases invariably have
“Rudolf Raubitschek” instead of “Robert Raubitschek”
when giving games by a player with this surname.’
Two games included in Capablanca’s My Chess Career
were nonetheless clearly ascribed to Robert in that book.
For photographs of him see C.N.s 3980 and 6458. There was
a mention of ‘Mr Robert Raubitschek’ on page 20 of the
June 1897 American Chess Magazine, and ‘Rudolph
Raubitscheck, New York. Robert Kaubitscheck [sic],
New York’ appeared in the alphabetical list of subscribers
to Cambridge Springs, 1904 on page 30 of the June 1904 American
Chess Bulletin.
Below is a reference to ‘the Raubitschek brothers’ on
page 181 of the July-August 1919 American Chess
Bulletin:
The respective birth-dates given for Ferdinand and his
son Robert (1864 and 1876) are not possible. That 1864 was
a misprint for 1846 is indicated by the data available
(from the 1905 New York State census) at the FamilySearch.org
website:
Even so, a discrepancy exists over Robert’s age; if he
was 27 in 1905, the year of birth given by Gaige (1876) is
incorrect. In fact, the 1942 draft registration card
available at the same website states that Robert was born
on 1 November 1877.
Much remains to be researched, but it seems clear, at
least, that the spelling Raubitscheck is now to be
avoided.
The FamilySearch.org website mentioned in the previous
item has a reference to Georges Gustave Koltanowski. The
‘Gustave’ was news to us.
7141. Petrosian v Botvinnik
Rick Massimo (Providence, RI, USA) points out a remark by
Igor Botvinnik about his uncle on page 9 of Botvinnik-Petrosian
The
1963
World
Chess
Championship
Match
(Alkmaar, 2010):
‘I had the impression that he did not like to be
reminded of this match loss, and it was a subject we
hardly ever spoke about. However, when he occasionally
talked about the pre-match negotiations, and the story
of Petrosian’s sealed move in Game 5, he did say that
his nerves had been “preyed upon”.’
Finding no information elsewhere in the book regarding an
incident in the fifth game, Mr Massimo asks what happened.
Botvinnik gave the following account on pages 171-172 of
Achieving the Aim (Oxford, 1981):
‘I played the match not too well. A definite effect on
my state of mind was produced by an incident in the
fifth game. At the start of the adjourned session (the
game was adjourned in a winning position for Petrosian)
the judge Golombek (England) opened the envelope and,
after looking at Petrosian’s score sheet, made a losing
[sic] for Petrosian. The latter protested
energetically; then Golombek shrugged his shoulders and
made the move which my opponent insisted on.
After my loss in this game I approached Golombek for an
explanation (according to the rules if the judge is
doubtful about which move has been made, i.e. if there
is an inaccuracy in the writing, then a loss is
awarded). Golombek replied that the move was indeed not
clear, but he was not in agreement with such an
interpretation of the rules. I was infuriated. This
legal point had been decided when I was still a young
man. I approached Ståhlberg – he supported the position
of his colleague.
Then I demanded a photocopy of the score sheet. This
was provided a week later. All week I was nervous and
managed to lose yet another game. However, the
unpleasantness lay in the fact that although Petrosian
had written the move down inaccurately there could be no
doubt about deciding what move had been sealed, and
Petrosian had complete justification for his protest at
the adjournment.
I felt bitter at my old friends, the match judges. I
just couldn’t understand why they had created such a
groundless conflict.’
Golombek covered the match for the BCM, with much
detail on matters large and small, but we see no reference
to this adjournment incident. Petrosian’s sealed move was
41 Kf7. Is it known whether his score-sheet for the game
has survived?
A late specimen of Harry Golombek’s play was given in
his column in The Times on 17 January 1981, page
10. Despite supplying a detailed description of the
computer against which he had been pitted ‘recently’, he
merely named it in the game heading as ‘Machine’.
Harry Golombek – ‘Machine’
1980 or 1981
English Opening
1 c4 Nf6 2 Nf3 e6 3 Nc3 Bb4 4 Qb3 Nc6 5 a3 Bxc3 6 Qxc3
d6 7 b4 Bd7 8 Bb2 O-O 9 e4 e5 10 d4 exd4 11 Nxd4 Re8 12
f3 Nxd4 13 Qxd4 Qe7 14 Be2 a6 15 O-O Rad8 16 Rac1 Qe5 17
Qxe5 dxe5 18 Rfd1 Re6 19 Bf1 c6 20 Rd2 Rde8 21 Rcd1 R6e7
22 a4 Rd8 23 b5 c5 24 Rd6 axb5 25 cxb5 Ra8 26 Ba3 Rxa4
27 Bxc5 Be6 28 Rd8+ Re8 29 Rxe8+ Nxe8 30 Rd8 g6 and
White won.
After Black’s 30th move Golombek commented:
‘Here it looked at first R-R7, then B-Q2, P-R3 and
P-B4 and then back to P-R3 and P-KN3. It spent 29
minutes 44 seconds on this hopeless procedure and
staggered on for another ten moves before I mated it.’
Dominique Thimognier (Fondettes, France) notes that
French départements are placing online an
increasing number of archive documents. Regarding the
birth-date of Legall given in C.N. 5734 he has found
confirmation in the Versailles register of christenings
for 1702. The text reads (regarding 4 September 1702):
‘Du même jour
François Antoine De Legal
François Antoine né ce jourdhuy fils de Mr René
François de Legal Chevalier Maréchal des camps et
armées du Roy et de Dame Françoise Marie de Vitart
St Clair son épouse a été baptisé par moy soussigné
...’
It is of particular interest to see the forenames,
François Antoine, with the family name spelt De Legal.
Our correspondent notes too the statement at the
conclusion of the document that François Antoine’s
father was away.
He has also found the baptism record of François
Antoine’s younger brother, who was born on 14 April
1705. It bears the signature of their father, René
François, who wrote his name ‘de Legall’ on that
occasion:
7144.
USA v USSR match
Concerning the USA v USSR match in New York in 1954, Luc
Winants (Boirs, Belgium) draws attention to a fine
selection of photographs by Alfred Eisenstaedt from Life
which can be viewed online.
Noting that Bobby Fischer was a spectator at all four
rounds of the event, as reported on page 33 of Endgame
by Frank Brady (New York, 2011), our correspondent wonders
whether the boy can be spotted in any shots of the
audience.
Four further sketches by L. Nardus at Scheveningen,
1913 were published on page 311 of The Field, 9
August 1913:
White to move (adjournment position)
Peter Wood (Hastings, England) cites the note to 41 Kf7
on page 147 of Tigran Petrosian His Life and Games
by Vik L. Vasiliev (London, 1974):
‘Undoubtedly the strongest, which unexpectedly called
forth a protest from the opponent. Here Botvinnik
turned to the match arbiter and claimed that White had
sealed the impossible move 41 K-B8?? (into check!).
One of Petrosian’s “small weaknesses” is that he has
a habit of writing the number 7 with a round tail ...
in a word, the mediation of the judge was called for,
and after the truth of the matter was established,
play continued. The nervous strain of a hard match
sometimes produces the most unexpected conflicts!’
7147. Atkins v Jacobs (C.N. 7096)
Alan Smith (Manchester, England) mentions that an Atkins
v Jacobs game was published on page 32 of the Illustrated
London News, 1 January 1916:
1 e4 d5 2 exd5 Nf6 3 d4 Qxd5 4 Nc3 Qa5 5 Nf3 c6 6 h3 Bf5
7 a3 Nbd7 8 Bd2 e6 9 Bc4 Qc7 10 Be3 Bd6 11 Bd3 Bg6 12 Qd2
O-O 13 Bxg6 hxg6 14 Ng5 Rfd8 15 Nce4 Be7 16 Nxf6+ Nxf6 17
Bf4 Qb6 18 c3 c5 19 dxc5 Bxc5 20 Qe2 Rd5 21 b4 Be7
22 c4 Qd4 23 O-O Qxf4 24 cxd5 Qxg5 25 dxe6 Qd5 26 exf7+
Qxf7 27 Rad1 a5 28 Qb5 axb4 29 axb4 Bf8 30 Rd4 Re8 31 f3
Qe6 32 Rfd1 Qe3+ 33 Kh1 Nh5 34 Qd5+ Kh7 35 Rh4 Re6 36 Qd3
Qg5 37 Rg4 Qe5 38 Rh4 Bd6 39 f4 Qf5 40 Qxf5 gxf5 41 Rxh5+
Resigns.
The heading was: ‘Game played in the Championship
Tournament of the City of London Chess Club, between
Messrs G. [sic] Atkins and H. Jacobs.’
As noted in C.N.s 6714 and 6715, page 30 of the Observer,
31 October 1937 had the results of a competition
entitled ‘Views on Chess’. Below is the full text:
‘The most unexpected entry is that of E.G., who won
the British Chess Magazine Correspondence
Tournament 25 years ago and gives “as the result of a
generation of reflection”, the verdict that “Chess
Mastery is the supreme example of concentrated mental
power exercised on insatiable futility”.
There are others who harp on the “futility”, but is
it not the essence of a game to have no object but
itself? The main objection, of course, is to its
length. “Thou foster-child of silence and slow Time”,
says D.W.; and others quote Macbeth: “Creeps
in this petty pace from day to day” (R.L.G.) and “If
it were done when ’tis done ’twere well it were done
quickly” (W.G.H.). Less formal is L.B.B.: “Too slow,
dear, give me tiddley-winks.” Here are one or two
other comments critical of one aspect of the game or
another:
“Life is too short for chess, but that is the fault
of life, not chess.” (H.W.O.)
“A good talk spoiled.” (R.P.)
“The apotheosis of knocking off work to carry
bricks.” (H.A.M.)
“Chess demands a concentration of mind which is
lost to the world and save for the Clock Rule would
be found in Eternity.” (G.S.)
“What a game for the shades!” (E.L.)
“A great and noble game, yet the most unsociable
ever invented.” (F.B.)
“A Chinese emperor after seeing a game of chess for
the first time said, ‘Call you it a game?’” (A.T.G.)
Here are some other views on various aspects of the
game:
“In reality the most delicate portrayal of the
working of a man’s mind in existence.” (J.M.)
“The least emotional and most moving of human
performances.” (F.C.B.)
“The game of chess, like the game of life, should
be taken seriously, but, while the ideal game of
chess ends with a mate, the ideal game of life only
begins with one.” (J.W.G.)
“Masterly inactivity.” (K.G.)
“The sport of mathematicians, the image of war with
none of its guilt and not even one per cent of its
danger.” (J.C.D.)
“Chess, in modern jargon, is an escape and – ye
gods! – into what?” (K.R.)
“Pooh, that’s easy; it should be played in three
dimensions.” (F.W.)
“The game of chess offers the supremest exercise of
the mental gymnasium; it is the only contest where
accurate thought is supreme and the equation of
chance is zero; it is economical, prophylactic,
inexhaustible, elegant, cultured, sociable,
international, exasperating yet humorous, poignant
yet piquant.” (H.M.W.)
“Chess teaches a man to be merciful since the king
– his company dispersed and his protection gone –
must yet be spared.” (A.J.M.T.)
R.C.G. makes a gallant effort to brighten a serious
subject by the entry: “I’m Alekhine at Euwe” (I’m a
looking at you).
We award the prize to Professor H.J. Rose, Edgecliff
East, The Scores, St Andrews, Fife, who sends the
following:
“Intimate conversation without a word spoken;
thrilling activity in quiescence; triumph and
defeat, hope and despondency, life and death, all
within sixty-four squares; poetry and science
reconciled; the ancient East at one with modern
Europe – that is Chess.”’
We comment on just one of the entries, the description
of chess as ‘a good talk spoiled’. This is reminiscent
of the observation attributed (though apparently no more
than that) to Mark Twain: ‘Golf is a good walk spoiled.’
See page 782 of The Yale Book of Quotations by
Fred R. Shapiro (New Haven and London, 2006).
7149. Passport application by Steinitz
At the ancestry.com
website Russell Miller (Vancouver, WA, USA) has found a
passport application by Steinitz, dated 26 October 1896:
Below is an updated list of books about (not by) Tal in
our collection:
- El extraordinario ajedrez de Miguel Tal by L.
Palau (Buenos Aires, 1960)
- The Unknown Tal by V. Zemitis (San Francisco,
1960)
- Miguel Tal campeón del mundo (Barcelona, 1960
and 1980)
- Selected Games of Mikhail Tal by J. Hajtun
(London, 1961 and New York, 1975 and German edition,
Düsseldorf, 1961)
- The Chess Psychologist World Champion Tal by
A. Liepnieks (Chicago, 1961 and 1975)
- Michail Tal by H. Bouwmeester and B.J.
Withuis (Amsterdam, 1961)
- Weltgeschichte des Schachs: Tal (Hamburg,
1961)
- Mikhail Tal’s Best Games of Chess by P.H.
Clarke (London, 1961 and 1991)
- Talj by A. Koblenz (Zagreb, 1964)
- Tal Since 1960 by W.H. Cozens (St Leonards on
Sea, 1974)
- Tal’s 100 Best Games 1961-1973 by B. Cafferty
(London, 1975)
- Tal’s Masterpieces and other Select Games
1960-1975 by A. Karklins (Chicago, 1976)
- Complete Games of Mikhail Tal 1960-66 by H.
Thomas (London, 1979)
- Complete Games of Mikhail Tal 1967-73 by H.
Thomas (London, 1979)
- Complete Games of Mikhail Tal 1936-1959 by H.
Thomas (London, 1980)
- Mihail Talj by D. Marović (Zagreb, 1980)
- Tahl 222 partidas (Madrid, 1990)
- Tal the Magnificent by A. Soltis (Dallas,
1990)
- Mihail Tahl by D. Bjelica (Madrid, 1992)
- Mikhail Tal Games 1949-1962 by A. Khalifman
(Sofia, 1994)
- Mikhail Tal Games 1963-1972 by A. Khalifman
(Sofia, 1995)
- Mikhail Tal Games 1973-1981 by A.
Khalifman (Münster, 1996)
- Mikhail Tal Games 1982-1992 by A.
Khalifman (Sofia, 1996)
- Mikhail Tal Tvortshestvo 1962-1967 (Riga,
1998)
- Mikhail Tal Tvortshestvo 1968-1973 (Riga,
1998)
- Mikhail Tahl Biografía 100 partidas magistrales
by J. Chiappini (Rosario, 1999)
- The Magic of Mikhail Tal by J. Gallagher
(London, 2000)
- Mikhail Tal Tvortshestvo 1974-1979 (Riga,
2001)
- Mikhail Tal Tvortshestvo 1980-1986 (Riga,
2001)
- Mikhail Tal Tvortshestvo 1987-1992 (Riga,
2001)
- Liubov i shakhmaty by S. Landau (Moscow,
2003)
- Mikhail Tal: Zhizn i igra by I. and
V. Linder (Moscow, 2008)
- Zaubern wie Schachweltmeister Michail Tal
by K. Müller and R. Stolze (Zurich, 2010)
- The Chess Greats of the World: Mikhail Tal by
D. Lovas (Kecskemét, 2010).
7151.
Teenage author
Which teenager published an annotated collection of
Morphy’s games?
The answer is Bertil Rask, whose monograph Paul
Morphy 180 partier (Stockholm, 1915) appeared around
the time of his 17th birthday.
Rask died of tuberculosis in Stockholm in 1918, aged 20.
Below is his obituary on page 170 of the August-September
1918 issue of Tidskrift för Schack:
See also pages 392-393 of an admirable 526-page book Stockholms
Schackförbund 1911-2011 by Peter Holmgren
(Stockholm, 2011). We are grateful to Mr Holmgren for
allowing us to reproduce the above portrait of Rask.
7152. Legall (C.N.s 5720, 5734 &
7143)
Joseph Dillon Ford (Gainesville, FL, USA) points out that
detailed information about the chessplayer’s ancestors,
and particularly his father, is available in the article
‘Legal: L’épopée d’un bourgeois breton sous Louis XIV’ by
René de Laigue in the Bulletin archéologique de
l’Association bretonne, 1899.
Our correspondent remarks:
‘The marquis was not born into the aristocracy but
began life as René-François Le Gal, the son of a
wealthy Breton. He distinguished himself in the War of
the Spanish Succession and as a result of his military
prowess won the grateful admiration of Louis XIV.’
We shall be pleased to forward to interested readers a
number of links to publications available at Google Books
which have been traced by Mr Ford.
Robert Sherwood (E. Dummerston, VT,
USA) draws attention to a snippet
of film showing Alekhine and Euwe at the chessboard
(the first part of the item).
In C.N. 725 (see page 106 of Chess Explorations)
a correspondent mentioned that Tallinn has a ‘Paul Keres
Street’.
Harrie Grondijs (Rijswijk, the Netherlands) reports
that it is a wide lane. He was there recently:
John Hilbert (Amherst, NY, USA) notes
that the above sketch of Robert Raubitschek appeared in
the New-York Daily Tribune of 21 July 1895,
page 22. In that chess article
Raubitschek is quoted as saying that he was born on 1
November 1876 (the date given in Gaige’s Chess
Personalia).
C.N. 3077 (see pages 274-275 of Chess Facts and
Fables) asked when A. Gibaud died.
Dominique Thimognier (Fondettes, France) has now found
that Gibaud’s birth certificate (he was born in
Rochefort on 5 March 1885) has a handwritten addition
stating that he died in Rochefort on 18 August 1957.
Our correspondent notes that Gibaud’s forename appears
in chess sources as either Aimé or Amédée and that the
above-mentioned certificate has the former.
We add a photograph of Gibaud with Alekhine, from the
November 1928 issue of L’Echiquier:
7157. Chessboard grafts (C.N. 4300)
C.N. 4300 quoted a brief item (‘Chess aids medical
science’) on page 371 of CHESS, 18 June 1955:
‘Dr P. Gabarro, a prominent Barcelona surgeon is
a keen chessplayer. Perhaps that is why the idea struck
him that skin grafted on to extensive injured areas might
knit better if applied in a chessboard pattern. Anyway, he
tried out his “hunch”, and the result, illustrated by
grisly but impressive photographs in a recent article by
him in the British Medical Journal, has been a
great success. “Chessboard grafts” may soon be accepted
medical practice.’
We now note what appeared on pages 723-724 of the British
Medical Journal, 12 June 1943, available
online.
‘... Miss Foot has challenged Mr Steinitz to a game
by correspondence, and the contest is now proceeding.’
Drawing attention to this report on page 7 of the South
Australian Register, 11 October 1893, Graham
Clayton (South Windsor, NSW, Australia) asks whether the
game-score has survived.
We do not recall seeing it, although Eliza Campbell
Foot’s obituary on pages 253-254 of the December 1914 American
Chess Bulletin stated:
‘Miss Foot took special pride in referring to a
victory she achieved in years gone by over William
Steinitz. The score was printed at the time.’
See also Kurt Landsberger’s books William Steinitz,
Chess Champion (Jefferson, 1993) and The
Steinitz Papers (Jefferson, 2002). On,
respectively, pages 277 and 159 Landsberger quoted a
letter dated 4 November 1896 from F.J. Lee to
Frideswilde Rowland which was given in the Spring 1911
issue of Four Leaved Shamrock with the
following addition by Mrs Rowland:
‘During the seclusion at Upper Montclair, Steinitz
was playing a correspondence game with his cousin,
Miss Eliza Foot, President of the Women’s Chess
Association, New York. She sent me a copy of her game
with Steinitz wherein he resigned, but Dr Pollock told
me afterwards that Steinitz played the game without
looking at the board.’
On page 286 of The Steinitz Papers Landsberger
wrote concerning Miss Foot:
‘She was not related to Steinitz, but was a good
friend.’
This photograph was published on page 102 of the June
1906 American Chess Bulletin:
Her above-mentioned obituary reported that she died
near the Manhattan Chess Club on 6 December 1914:
‘It was a very stormy evening and, carrying an
umbrella, Miss Foot evidently was at a great
disadvantage with respect to any vehicles that might
be passing. One suddenly bore around the corner at
high speed, killing her outright. The fact that the
driver of the machine made his escape placed the
tragedy on the same plane as a wanton, cold-blooded
murder.’
This group photograph comes from page 65 of Tempêtes
sur l’échiquier by François Le Lionnais (Paris,
1981):
7160.
Franklin Russell
John Blackstone (Las Vegas, NV, USA) has found this
article on page 9 of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 27
January 1907:
We note that the photograph was also published on page
214 of the November 1907 American Chess Bulletin:
From page 301 of A Century of British Chess by
P.W. Sergeant (London, 1934):
‘In 1912 the Rhodes Scholar, Franklin F. Russell
(Brasenose), played top board for Oxford for the first
of three years in all, in each of which he scored a
draw. He was an American, from Brooklyn High School, and
came up to Oxford with a chess reputation already made.’
Previously Russell had attended New York University, and
this specimen of his play comes from a college team match:
Louis Tolins (Cornell University) – Franklin Ferriss
Russell (New York University)
New York, 3 January 1910
Sicilian Defence
1 e4 c5 2 Nf3 e6 3 Nc3 Nc6 4 d4 cxd4 5 Nxd4 Nf6 6 Be3 Bb4
7 Bd3 d5 8 Nxc6 bxc6 9 e5
9...d4 10 O-O Ng8 11 Be4 dxe3 12 Bxc6+ Bd7 13 Bxa8 exf2+
14 Kh1 Qxa8 15 Rxf2 Bc5 16 Re2 Bc6 17 Qd3 Ne7 18 Ne4 Bxe4
19 Rxe4 O-O 20 Rh4 Nf5 21 Re4 Rd8 22 Qe2 Nd4 23 Qg4 Nxc2
24 Rc1 Bb6 25 h3 Ne3 26 Qf3 Nf5 27 Kh2 Bd4 28 b3 Qb8 29
Qe2 f6 30 Rd1 Bxe5+ 31 Rxe5 fxe5 32 Rxd8+ Qxd8 33 Qxe5 Qd6
34 White resigns.
Source: American Chess Bulletin, February 1910,
pages 40-41.
As noted in Jeremy Gaige’s Chess Personalia,
Russell lived from 1891 to 1978. He had a distinguished
academic career in law. His father, Isaac Russell
(1857-1931), who was Chief Justice of Special Sessions,
expressed positive comments about chess in an interview
quoted on page 152 of the July 1912 American Chess
Bulletin. Franklin’s brother William M. Russell was
a frequent contributor to the Bulletin; his
obituary on page 118 of the September-October 1950 issue
discussed the family connections.
7161. Three Cuban brevities
The games below were given, respectively, in C.N.s 1363,
1368 and 1513:
Rogelio Ortega – José Luis Barreras Meriño
Havana, 10 August 1946
Budapest Defence
1 d4 Nf6 2 c4 e5 3 dxe5 Ng4 4 Qd4 d6 5 exd6 Bxd6 6 Nc3
O-O 7 Nf3 Nc6 8 Qd1 Nce5 9 Nd4 Re8 10 e3 Bb4 11 Qc2
11...Qxd4 12 exd4 Nf3+ 13 Kd1 Re1 mate.
Source: Ajedrez en Cuba by C. Palacio (Havana,
1960), pages 264-265.
Luis R. Díaz – Miguel Valladares
Cuban Correspondence Tourney, 1972
Irregular Opening
1 Nf3 e5 2 Nxe5 Nc6 3 Nxc6 dxc6 4 d4 Bd6 5 e4 Qh4 6 Nc3
Bb4 7 Bd3 Nf6 8 Bd2 Bxc3 9 Bxc3 Nxe4 10 Qe2
10...f5 11 O-O O-O 12 g3 Qh3 13 Bxe4 fxe4 14 Qxe4 Bf5 15
Qf4 Bg4 16 White resigns.
Source: Jaque Mate, 7-8/1973, page 66.
C.N. 2454 (see page 173 of A Chess Omnibus)
pointed that although Jaque Mate had used the term
‘Valladares Opening’, a game between von Scheve and
Silbert at the Café de la Régence in Paris on 24 October
1902 had begun 1 Nf3 e5 2 Nxe5 d5 3 d4 Bd6. Janowsky
called Black’s first move ‘a very rare error in a
tournament game’ (La Stratégie, 21 January 1903,
pages 4-5). Moreover, 1…e5 in reply to 1 Nf3 was played
even by Emanuel Lasker, in a 1907 simultaneous game (a
win) in Topeka. He published it – under the heading
‘Opening: (Original!)’ – on page 151 of the August 1907
issue of Lasker’s Chess Magazine.
José Antonio Gelabert y Barrueté – Evelio Bermúdez
Occasion?
King’s Gambit Accepted
1 e4 e5 2 f4 exf4 3 Nf3 Be7 4 Bc4 Bh4+ 5 g3 fxg3 6 O-O
gxh2+ 7 Kh1 Be7 8 Bxf7+ Kxf7 9 Ne5+ Ke8 10 Qh5+ g6
11 Nxg6 Nf6 12 Rxf6 Bxf6 13 Ne5+ Ke7 14 Qf7+ Kd6 15 Nc4+
Kc5 16 Qd5+ Kb4 17 a3+ Ka4 18 b3 mate.
Source: Revista Cubana de Ajedrez,
September-October 1923, page 23.
In this photograph how many masters can be identified?
John Blackstone (Las Vegas, NV, USA) has found the Foot
v Steinitz game on page 9 of the Brooklyn Daily
Eagle, 14 November 1909:
1 e4 e5 2 Nf3 Nc6 3 Bc4 Nf6 4 Ng5 d5 5 exd5 Na5 6 Bb5+
c6 7 dxc6 bxc6 8 Be2 h6 9 Nf3 e4 10 Ne5 Qc7 11 f4 Bd6 12
d4 O-O 13 c3 c5 14 Na3 a6 15 Nc2 Bb7 16 O-O Rac8 17 Qe1
Nd5 18 Ne3 Ne7 19 Qg3 cxd4 20 cxd4 Qb6 21 Nd7 Qa7 22
Nxf8 Kxf8 23 Bg4 Rc7 24 Bd2 Nac6 25 Kh1 Nxd4 26 Rac1 f5
27 Rxc7 Bxc7 28 Bd1 a5 29 Bc3 Ba6 30 Re1 Bb5 31 a4 Bd3
32 Bb3 Qc5 33 Rc1 Ke8 34 Bd1 Ne6 35 Bh5+ Kd7 36 Bd2 Qb6
37 Nc4 Qb8 38 Ne5+ Bxe5 39 fxe5 Qxb2 40 Qf2 Qd4 41 Qxd4+
Nxd4 42 Bxa5 Ndc6 43 Bc3 g6 44 Bd1 Nd5 45 Kg1 g5 46 Bb2
Nf4 47 Kf2 Na5 48 Bc3 Nc4 (The move order given by the
newspaper for the remainder of the game was garbled.) 49
a5 e3+ 50 Kg1 Be4 51 a6 Bxg2 52 a7 Be4 53 Bc2 Resigns.
7164.
Camelot
The above photograph (Capablanca, Lasker and Alekhine)
comes from a webpage of the World
Camelot Federation, and we reproduce it with the
permission of the Federation’s President and Founder,
Michael Nolan (Troy, MI, USA). He informs us that he
created it on the basis of this picture:
Here, Capablanca’s opponent is the Camelot and bridge
expert Sidney Lenz, while E.V. Shepard (another bridge
authority) looks on.
On the subject of Capablanca and Camelot see C.N. 2452 on
page 172 of A Chess Omnibus. That item included a
quote by Capablanca about the game from a 1930s rules
booklet:
Additional quotes about Camelot are given on another
webpage of the World Camelot Federation.
See too our article A Fake
Chess Photograph.
7165. What is Zugzwang?
White played 36 b3
In 1985 (C.N.s 923 and 988) David Hooper and Hugh Myers
debated the exact meaning of Zugzwang. We have
just added their full exchanges in our feature article Zugzwang.
7166. Eliskases v Richter
This photograph of Erich Eliskases and Kurt Richter shows
their game in the German Championship in Bad Oeynhausen,
14 July 1939.
Source: Deutsche Schachzeitung, August 1939, page
226.
Leonard Barden (London) writes:
‘In the mid-1970s I reported on that year’s Oxford
v Cambridge match in my column in The Field.
I received a letter from Franklin Russell, who told
me of his participation in 1912-14. Cambridge could
award half-blues but Oxford could not, so Russell’s
team made an unsuccessful application to the Oxford
Blues Committee. He asked if the situation had
changed since he played, and I had to tell him that
there had been several such applications over the
years, but all had been rejected.
He then told me that the Oxford players of his
time had created a special award of “representative
colours” for their team along with a multi-coloured
tie which the team wore at the match. He was keen
that this initiative should be revived, and sent the
Oxford team for the next year’s match a batch of
seven ties, asking that they be worn. He also sent a
tie, which I no longer possess, to me. Alas for his
enterprise, by the mid-1970s dress attitudes were
becoming more casual and only two or three of the
Oxford team wore the Russell tie at the match.’
Page 152 of the April 1914 BCM stated:
‘The Oxford team has been largely made what it is by
the influence and example of Mr Russell, whose loss
will be greatly felt when he returns to his native air
...’
He returned home to the United States on 4 July 1914 (American
Chess Bulletin, September 1914, page 205).
Olimpiu G. Urcan (Singapore) has found this photograph
on page 5 of The Times of India, 16 January
1934:
The caption reads: ‘Colonel Sir Umar Hyat Khan bidding
farewell to Miss Fatima and Sultan Khan, the Indian
Chess champions, when the[y] left London for Tilbury, on
their return to India.’
7169. Blindfold knight tour
From page 477 of the December 1913 BCM:
‘On 16 October, at the Colchester Chess Club, Mr A.C.
Robst gave an interesting blindfold performance of the
knight’s tour. He first gave the tour with a single
knight from any square, then with two knights, and
finally with four knights simultaneously. This last is a
feat which has not to our knowledge been previously
attempted blindfold. The board was not numbered, Mr
Robst named the squares in the English notation.’
Larger version
Source: American Chess Bulletin, May 1906, page
88. The occasion was the St Petersburg Chess Club Rice
Gambit Tourney.
‘An interesting ending’ was Marshall’s conclusion in
his notes to the following game, played against Frank
Altschul (1887-1981), a prominent banker and
philanthropist:
Frank Altschul – Frank James Marshall
Simultaneous exhibition, New York, 3 August 1938
Ruy López
1 e4 e5 2 Nf3 Nc6 3 Bb5 a6 4 Ba4 Nf6 5 O-O Be7 6 c3 b5
7 Bc2 O-O 8 d4 d6 9 h3 h6 10 d5 Nb8 11 Be3 Nbd7 12 Nbd2
Bb7 13 a4 c6 14 dxc6 Bxc6 15 axb5 axb5 16 Rxa8 Qxa8 17
Qa1 Qb7 18 Qa7 Qxa7 19 Bxa7 Ra8 20 Be3 Ra2 21 Rb1 d5 22
Bb3 Ra8 23 exd5 Bxd5 24 Bd1 Ne4 25 Nxe4 Bxe4 26 Rc1 f5
27 Nd2 Bc6 28 b4 f4 29 Bc5 Nxc5 30 bxc5 Bxc5 31 c4 b4 32
Nb3 Be7 33 c5 Ra3 34 f3 Ba4 35 c6 Bd6 36 Nc5 Bxd1
37 Ne4 Bc7 38 Rxd1 b3 39 Rb1 Kf7 40 Nd2 Bb6+ 41 Kf1 Ra2
42 Rxb3 Rxd2 43 Rxb6 Rc2 44 Rb7+ Kf6 45 Rc7 g5 46 Rc8
Ke6 47 Rh8 Rxc6 48 Rxh6+ Kd5 49 Rh5 Drawn.
Source: Chess Review, September 1938, page 221.
A small picture featuring Altschul was published on
page 259 of the November 1938 Chess Review:
7172.
Krejcik position
C.N. 1050 (see pages 9-10 of Chess Explorations)
gave this position from a fast game (Krejcik v N.N.,
occasion unknown):
1 Qc1+ Qb1+ 2 Kd2 c6 3 Kd1 c5 4 Kd2 c4
5 Ke2 c3 6 Kd1 c2+ 7 Kd2 Qxc1+ 8 Kxc1 stalemate.
John Nunn (Chertsey, England) points out that the
position appears as a study (1923, ‘source unknown’) in
the latest van der Heijden study database.
What more can be discovered about the position? At the
moment we have only the source specified in C.N. 1050,
i.e. page 231 of the August 1924 Wiener Schachzeitung:
Our latest feature article is Chess: The History of FIDE.
7174. Streets named after chessplayers
(C.N. 7154)
Wijnand Engelkes (Zeist, the Netherlands) reports that he
has visited the Rua Alexander Alekhine in Estoril,
Portugal:
Our correspondent comments:
‘The Rua Alexander Alekhine is beyond the tourist
area of Estoril (city of Cascais) and a half-hour walk
from the São João railway station. The street-sign is
on the stone object on the left of the second picture.
The Rua Alexander Alekhine is a small road on a slope,
located at a high point in Estoril. There are no
houses. On one side are the backs of the houses of an
adjacent road, whereas the other side is empty land.
There is really nothing there apart from a lonely tree
at the top of the hill.’
7175. Frederick Yates
C.N. 780 discussed the claims/rumours surrounding the
death of Frederick Dewhurst Yates (1884-1932). See pages
118-119 of Chess Explorations, as well as a ChessBase
item written by us in 2008.
The following article by G.H. Diggle originally appeared
in the December 1982 Newsflash and was also given
on page 89 of Chess Characters (Geneva, 1984):
‘Just 50 years ago the BCM (December 1932)
reported the tragic death of F.D. Yates at the age of
48. “On the night of Tuesday, 8 November he gave a very
successful exhibition at Wood Green, only dropping one
half point in 16 games. On the following night he was in
the company of a chess friend until fairly late, and
then went back to his room at Coram Street, Bloomsbury.
He was never seen again alive. ... he was in the habit
of secluding himself for many hours at a stretch when
busy with work.” It was not until Friday morning that,
after a smell of gas had been noticed, his door was
broken open and he was found dead in bed. The cause of
death was asphyxiation through a faulty and obsolete gas
connection.
Yates lived and died at a time when both press coverage
of chess and remuneration of its professionals were at
low ebb. The “story” of his end, however, briefly
attracted the newsmen, and a few lugubrious “paras”
appeared about the poor little Yorkshireman (found dead
in his obscure bedsitter) “whose whole life”, according
to one reporter, “had been played out on the squares of
a chessboard”.
But the chess literature of the time contains many
tributes to the man who was six times British champion,
and a feared and respected opponent in international
chess for over 20 years (spanning from Hamburg, 1910 to
San Remo, 1930). He never won a first prize in any great
“international” and indeed seldom came high up the list
– his aggregate results for the 22 big tournaments in
which he played were 85 wins, 85 draws, 119 losses. But
it was as a winner of magnificent individual games
against the “top brass” that he will be remembered –
“the harder the opposition”, wrote P.W. Sergeant, “the
better his play”. He excelled in what might be called
“long game brilliance”. Alekhine declared in 1930 that
Vidmar v Yates (San Remo) was “the greatest game played
since the (1914-18) War”. In another tremendous effort
against Alekhine himself (Carlsbad, 1923) Yates revealed
(says H.G.) “iron pertinacity” in a combination 20 moves
deep – “only a great poet of the chessboard”, says
Reinfeld, “could have conjured up such a position”. In
this game Yates did not hurry his attack, and the “fun”
began towards the 40th move. But even if an adjournment
may have helped the “conjurer”, the vast network through
which the “rabbit” had to travel before being finally
produced was truly remarkable.
Neither as a chess personality nor even as a chess
Bohemian (which he certainly was) did Yates make the
most of himself, being handicapped in the one case by a
quiet reserve and in the other by an inability to go
quite the whole hog – he lacked the untrammelled panache
of Winter or La Bourdonnais. He only “opened out” to a
few intimate friends. “They at least”, wrote Sergeant,
“knew his widespread interest in other things.” (Yates
was a good pianist, and a fine article by him on “Why
Chess Appeals to the Intellect” (BCM, 1914
extracted from the Yorkshire Evening Post)
attests his high qualifications as a writer.)’
Frederick Dewhurst Yates (BCM,
September 1913, page 361)
The Yates article mentioned by Diggle was published on
pages 218-220 of the June 1914 BCM, having
originally appeared in the Yorkshire Evening Post
of 14 May 1914. The full text:
‘Why Chess Appeals to the Intellect
The chess master has many advantages, even if he meets
with his due share of disappointments, without which, of
course, he would fail to appreciate the good things that
fall to his lot. Among other things he can rely on the
game as on a passport in practically every city in
Europe. It will bring him at once into touch with some
sympathetic spirit, who, for no other reason than the
good fellowship of the game, will extend just the right
amount of hospitality to make the stay an easy and
pleasant one.
On all the great sea routes, where one meets so many
nice people one never meets again, chess proves an
interesting means of companionship, and one of the
greatest boons in breaking the tedium of a long journey.
But its main advantage lies in bringing interesting
types of men together. Without geographical limits, the
game has devotees even in the most inaccessible regions
and, by the way, the rules under which it is played are
uniform throughout the world with the exception of
Japan, China and the Eastern Archipelago. One may
casually meet in the street, as has actually happened in
a day, a champion from Cairo, a leading player from
Shanghai, and another whose keenest recollection was of
a game he had played at the highest point of a certain
pass in the Rockies. On these occasions, conversation
left chess severely alone, but generally the chess
master is continually asked all manner of questions on
all conceivable points of the game.
Even blindfold play still strikes the public equally
with other mysteries that cannot satisfactorily be
explained, yet not to the extent it formerly did, when
it was considered almost a “black art”. But curiously
enough, the question most often put is the least
important of all. “Do you sleep well after a hard game?”
This question is often propounded by a player who is
totally incapable of playing a hard game, and in that
case can serve no useful purpose to the questioner. As a
matter of fact, the harder the game the sounder the
sleep, as is the case in all other forms of exertion.
Then there is another question raised, very rarely
nowadays, and then rather sheepishly, for on reflection
it will be seen that it is not complimentary when
addressed to a player. “Does chess ever affect the brain
in any way?” This second question is hardly worth
discussing, but as these remarks are addressed to a much
larger audience than that made up only by chessplayers,
it may be as well to point out that in an average
population the mentally afflicted are in a proportion of
about one in 500, while in a wide experience of
chessplayers, covering hundreds who could hold their own
with experts and thousands of medium chessplayers, it is
not noticeable that the weak-minded are in anything the
same proportion. Chess is eminently the game for the
level-headed, and the players are those quiet people who
are the salt of the earth.
But, as we all love the best when we see it, chief
interest of all is taken in the chess genius, a type who
at least gives a lasting impression of power. Something
Oriental enters into his mental make-up, acquired
perhaps through a long service of the game. He plays as
one would imagine the “ mandarin with urbanity of manner
and unconsciousness of sin” would play.
No Greek gift of a pawn or a piece can tempt him from
what he considers the rigid science of the game. Certain
strategic principles of displaying the chess-men are to
him a curious pleasure, and it is here that he betrays
his weakness as also his strength. He cannot be tempted,
and for that reason shows his hand to his opponent. In
the mimic warfare the one facing him will know what to
expect, and need not fear that mobility of plan which is
the sign of the greatest generalship. Nothing shows his
character better than his manner under defeat. To him
chess is merely
Tricks to show the stretch of human brain;
Mere curious pleasure, or ingenious pain.
In a sense we all possess the gambling spirit, though
some of us fail to recognize it. If in anything it comes
out into the open, it is in games. At the back of our
minds there is always the impression that we can do
better. We face the world with the proud feeling that
there is still a reserve within us and we can show
something greater yet than any of our previous
performances. So we go on after a loss of any kind, as
if the chances of success on the next occasion were
improved. Of course they are not, but for all that it is
a fine feeling, and a motive power the influence of
which has hardly yet been calculated in the affairs of
men.
The chess master’s judgment tells him, however, that it
is all a mistake; brilliancy and sharp bursts of energy
are mere flashes in the pan. Should he lose, he will not
in the next game make the brilliant attack which might
retrieve his position. No reason, or common sense, which
you will, guides him, and he plays for the draw.
The world’s champion has written several chess books,
but the best known he called Common Sense in Chess.
Its whole teaching is simplicity of play, but then it is
the hardest thing in the world to do complex things in
the simplest way.
A big proportion of the players who have made great
names in the chess world have been Jews; one has only to
look down a list of names in any great tournament to
find this out. Lasker, Rubinstein, Bernstein,
Nimzowitsch immediately catch the eye. These stars have
risen mostly in Central Europe, and it may be pointed
out in passing that Germany owes a good deal of her
chess reputation to players of Jewish birth. Curiously,
they are in a greater proportion where disabilities of
their race have been the hardest to bear.
As chess has flourished most where civilization is
highest, it is something in the nature of a paradox that
this should be so, but when it is taken into account
that they have always striven after progress, and
progress takes the line of least resistance, it is
easily understood that these men should turn to chess
when they sought to satisfy a natural craving for
expression and outlet for ambition. It must be
remembered that the diversity of languages puts many
obstacles in the way of those who would broaden their
ideas, if they could only find the opportunity, and it
is to chess that such people turn.
English people are apt to forget the many advantages
they have in an open door to the finest literature in
the world. Imagine the position of a youth who speaks
only Romanese or Polonische, whose nature continually
prompts him to stretch his brain in one way or another.
At chess he finds kindred spirits, and in no other way
can he find an easier means of identifying himself with
culture.’
7176. Fischer in Havana
C.N. 1267 gave the score of a game drawn by Bobby Fischer
against José Arango Casado in a simultaneous exhibition in
Havana on 26 February 1956. We added that the Cuban
magazine of the time, Ajedrez en Cuba, gave no
games. Its September 1956 issue (pages 182-183) mentioned
that Fischer had been in Havana ‘five or six months ago’
and that he had ‘defeated all players with whom he
measured his strength’. In the December 1956 number (page
20) there was a brief reference to Fischer’s ‘brilliant
performance in Havana’s Club Capablanca some months ago’.
Further details were provided by Ed Tassinari (Scarsdale,
NY, USA) in C.N. 1306:
‘C.N. 1267 concerning Fischer’s previously
unpublished games, including one from his 12-board
simultaneous exhibition at the Capablanca Chess Club
in Havana, sheds a little light on an aspect of his
career that remains fairly obscure. Several years ago
I made a modest attempt to survey several Cuban
publications for news and/or game-scores of Fischer in
Havana, with meagre success. What I did find was
basically this:
In his chess column in El Mundo (Havana),
Carlos Palacio mentioned the presence of the US
visitors from the Log Cabin (NJ) Chess Club (column of
26 February 1956). He noted that E. Forry Laucks had
extended an invitation to Cuban players while they
were in New York the previous November (participating
in a match with the Marshall Chess Club). A reception
was held on the afternoon of 25 February for the
visitors, and during this pairings were made for a
team match which was held that night. He gave the
results in his column, but with no game-scores.
The 28 February issue of El Mundo had a
picture of Fischer giving the simultaneous exhibition,
and in Palacio’s chess column of the same date there
is a picture of Fischer playing José A. Gelabert in a
skittles encounter, together with reference to an
article that appeared in Chess Review for
January 1956 (which was actually a reprint of a New
York Times piece describing a Fischer simultaneous
exhibition against 12 young members of the Yorktown
Chess Club (NY) given at the Manhattan Chess Club in
November 1955). A list of Fischer’s opponents and the
results of the 26 February simultaneous display are
also given: Raimundo Plasencia, Sergey Pavol, Rogelio
Ferrer, E. Haughton, E. Forry Laucks, Dr Luis F. de
Almagro, Antonio Higuera, Dr Armando Bermúdez, Alberto
Reyes and Raúl Martin all lost; José Arango Casado and
Ramón Meréndez Bermúdez drew.
Unfortunately no game-scores were given by Palacio,
nor in any of his columns for the following weeks.
Mention of the Log Cabin aggregation was made by the
then Cuban champion Dr Juan González in his column (26
February 1956) which occasionally appeared in the Diario
de la Marina (Havana). He gave the line-up for the
team match, but nothing beyond what appeared in
Palacio’s columns.
I also scanned several weeks of the New York
Times for February and March 1956 in the hope of
locating something about the Log Cabin tour and/or
Fischer game-scores; the only mention apparently was
on 5 March 1956, page 26, which noted that the
three-week Log Cabin Chess Club tour had ended; the
team had played matches with Miami, Tampa, St
Petersburg and Hollywood, Florida; Clinto, North
Carolina and Havana, with a result of 23½ to 26½. It
was noted that Norman Whitaker played first board for
Log Cabin and won five, lost one and drew one. Fischer
made exactly the same result on second board.’
See also pages 45-49 of Endgame by Frank Brady
(New York, 2011). We note too a photograph
of Fischer’s simultaneous display in Havana. Below, from
page 6 of the January 1956 Chess Review, is a
picture of Fischer giving his simultaneous exhibition
against the Yorktown Chess Club:
John Blackstone (Las Vegas, NV, USA) provides an item
from page 4 of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 26 May
1906:
We add an article about Lala Raja Babu from pages
269-270 of the July 1904 BCM:
7178. Forcing a winning position
C.N. 888 quoted from page 7 of CHESS, 14
September 1935 a remark by Alekhine:
‘It is practically impossible nowadays to force a
winning position with the black pieces against a player
of master strength (even if not absolutely first-class
standard) who is content to play for a draw.’
‘[Capablanca] had a better conceit of himself than
had Alekhine, but was a much nicer and much
better-liked man. Alekhine was qualified as a lawyer
and had a powerful intellect. He was the only man I
ever met who was arrogant without being conceited.
What do I mean by arrogant? He treated inferiors as if
they were inferiors – but he very rarely made
Capablanca’s mistake of taking his own powers for
granted.’
Source: page 139 of Not Only Chess by Gerald
Abrahams (London, 1974).
A passage from an article by Roberto Grau on San Remo,
1930 was quoted in C.N. 1041:
‘When Alekhine beat Nimzowitsch in such masterly
style the first to congratulate him was the defeated
man himself. This gesture by the aggressive
Nimzowitsch is a token of his admiration for his
opponent’s skill, and as he rose from the board he
said in a loud voice, “Alekhine plays phenomenally”.’
Source: El Ajedrez Americano, March 1930, pages
66-69.
As reported in C.N. 1041, a letter from
Ossip Bernstein dated 5 October 1945 and published in the
November 1945 CHESS (pages 28-29) condemned
Alekhine:
‘My profound attachment to chess restrains me from
telling all I think of Alekhine, since the fall of
France. In May 1940, I played against him in Paris (a
so-called “consultation” game) and won. I could not
have guessed that he would behave afterwards as he
did. I shall never play against him again and I do not
even wish to see him. I refused to meet him at
Barcelona, when he visited that city to give chess
exhibitions.
I think that the above makes my conception of
“collaboration” clear.
The chess world is aware of the tragic end of the
grand Polish chessmaster and composer Dawid
Przepiórka, who was condemned to death for having
entered a café where chess was played; he was
forbidden to do that, because he was a Jew. But it is
not generally known that Alekhine, though on close
terms with the Nazi Governor of Poland, Dr Frank, with
whom he was photographed for Nazi periodicals
published at the time, refused to intervene to secure
Przepiórka’s release. This fact of his
non-intervention was told me by Sämisch when he came
to Barcelona at the end of 1943. I could also mention
articles published by Alekhine after 1940 and the
chess exhibitions he gave to entertain the Nazi
Forces. I refrain from giving further disgusting
details about his behaviour. It could be added that he
adopted the Nazi salute “Heil Hitler” with
outstretched arm.
I am fully aware of what my statements mean, but I
consider it my moral duty and I leave it to you to
make conclusions.’
Alekhine’s reply was given on page 76 of the January
1946 issue:
‘Dr Alekhine informs us that the attacks quoted in CHESS
of Dr Oskam, who was always his friend, were
particularly painful to him.
“As for Dr Bernstein’s ‘information’, I can only
state that my friend D. Przepiórka was murdered
before the end of 1939 (I heard the narrative of his
[sic] from an eye-witness) and it is known
that I played in Germany and Poland only from the
end of 1941. What connection could I have with this
tragical event??
I may add that the game Dr Bernstein gives was
played at my home and had an absolutely private
character – but of course this has no importance at
all.”
Dr Alekhine goes on to say that he has been very sick
this year but had to go on playing, or starve. He has
had a rest at Tenerife and is feeling much better, but
ill-health and worry have sapped his playing ability.’
The attack by Oskam was quoted in Was Alekhine a Nazi?
Regarding Przepiórka, it is believed that he was killed in
April 1940 (see C.N. 6618).
7182. The death of Przepiórka
The accusation that Alekhine did not intervene on behalf
of Dawid Przepiórka was rebutted in a footnote to
Alekhine’s obituary on page 87 of the June 1946 Revue
suisse d’échecs:
‘Le reproche de ne pas être intervenu en faveur du
maître Przepiórka en 1942, lors de son séjour à
Varsovie, est infondé. On sait maintenant, par des
témoignages récents venant de la capitale polonaise,
que le grand maître et compositeur polonais tomba
victime de la persécution anti-juive en 1940 déjà,
donc deux ans avant la visite d’Alekhine.’
The obituary was written by Erwin Voellmy and
Jean-Charles de Watteville, and page 84 had a woodcut of
Alekhine by Voellmy:
Page 147 of the April 1946 CHESS reported a
claim by E. Voellmy that Alekhine was a paid consultant
of the Nazis:
As mentioned in C.N. 1041, Alekhine’s widow denied the
Sachberater für Ostfragen charge on page 172 of
the May 1946 CHESS:
From page 135 of the December 1904 American Chess
Bulletin:
‘A new gambit styled the “Lawrence Gambit”, invented
by one of the members [of the Pillsbury National
Correspondence Chess Association of Chicago], runs as
follows: 1 e4 e5 2 Bc4 Bc5 3 b4 Bxb4 4 c3 Bc5 5 Qb3
Qf6 (best) 6 Nf3.’
In C.N. 715 (see page 185 of Chess Explorations)
a reader asked for biographical information about the
Soviet study composer of the 1930s A.S. Seletsky, and
the request remains open. Seletsky’s most celebrated
composition is probably the one published on page 7 of Chessboard
Magic! by Irving Chernev (New York, 1943):
Wanted: information about a quote ascribed to Fischer
on page 57 of Bobby Fischer heute by Yves
Kraushaar (Schwanden, 1977) and given in C.N. 932:
‘Es gibt nur zwei wahre Schachgenies – das andere
war Wilhelm Steinitz, der Weltmeister von 1872 bis
1894.’
What should White play?
Chess Notes Archives
Copyright: Edward Winter. All
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