Category Archives: Games Analysis

Minor Pieces 79: Antony Alfred Geoffrey Guest

Ralph Jackson won the Sydney Junior Championship back in 1976 and is currently ranked 7th among players in Australia born before 1960.

He is also intrigued by family history, and his interest was piqued in 2015 when a cousin showed him transcripts of letters his great grandfather’s brother had been sent by an English nephew in 1874 and 1875 concerning his family’s financial struggles, and his mother’s illness and subsequent death.

He idly, as one does, entered the name of his English relation, of whom he had previously been unaware, into Google and was both startled and delighted to discover that Antony Guest had been a prominent chess player and journalist. You could even make the case that he was the Leonard Barden of his time, and that, almost a century after his death, his influence can still be felt today.

When Ralph noticed that I’d mentioned Guest in an earlier Minor Piece he contacted me to ask what more I could discover about him. As he was on my list of future Minor Pieces, in part because of his local connections to me, I was more than happy to oblige.

The birth of Antony Alfred Geoffrey Guest (he didn’t use his rather splendid middle names for chess purposes) was registered in the second quarter of 1856 in Staines, Middlesex. His father Augustus was a schoolmaster, classicist and artist, the son of Thomas Douglas Guest. His mother Phoebe, also known as Elizabeth or Mary, was the daughter of refugees, originally from Eastern Europe, but who had arrived via Denmark. Although she was born in the Jewish faith she later converted to Christianity.

Antony was baptised by cricketing clergyman Henry Vigne in St Mary’s Church Sunbury on June 18 that year. Entirely coincidentally, I visited that church recently and took a few photographs.

I don’t know the age of the font on the left: the inscription records when it was moved, not when it was installed, but I’d guess it wasn’t the one in which baby Antony was baptised.

By 1861 the family, now joined by Isabella Katherine Celia Guest (who would later be known as Katherine or Kate), had moved to Thayer Street in central London, conveniently situated just a few yards from the Chess & Bridge Shop in Baker Street.

But on 20 June 1864 Augustus was admitted to Grove Hall Lunatic Asylum, where he died on 19 March 1866. The family were now struggling to maintain their previously affluent lifestyle, and Antony had to leave school early. By 1871 he was working as a clerk, while his mother was now a lodging-house keeper. Isabella was, for some reason, visiting a carter’s family in Hampshire.

Meanwhile, Phoebe’s three brothers, Abraham (who changed his name to Alfred Lionel), Henry and Maurice had emigrated to Australia in the 1850s, seeking their fortune in the Gold Rush.

Henry, in particular, did very well for himself. After visiting the gold fields he took a job in public service, later rising to become Registrar-General of Victoria as well as attaining the rank of Major in the volunteer forces.

It was Uncle Alfred who was the recipient of Antony’s surviving (in transcript) letters.

The first letter Ralph has is from July 1874.

Circumstances have gone very hard with us of late, my mother has been very ill lately, and has been unwell for the last two years, and find it very very difficult to make ends meet-, especially since food and other necessities have become so dear, a little assistance therefore now and then would be a very great comfort to her.

In October he wrote again with the sad news that his mother had died of gastric (typhoid) fever the previous month.

My poor mother left her affairs in a very unsettled condition, her debts amounting to nearly 70 pounds, and my sister and myself would be greatly obliged to you or our uncle Henry for any assistance you could give us. 

In December he informed Uncle Alfred that he had moved into a boarding house and his employer had lent him enough money to pay off his mother’s debts, but it appears that his family in Australia had been unable to help financially.

Ralph’s final letter, from April the following year, sees Antony telling his uncle that his prospects were now good, but thanking him for his offer of a home in Australia for his ‘delicate’ sister Isabella. If she took up the offer she wasn’t there long as she was back in England by 1881.

Here, then, was a formerly prosperous family that, due to illness and death, and perhaps also financial mismanagement, had hit hard times. Young Antony was doing his best to sort things out.

He also developed an interest in chess, watching one of the games in the 1876 match between Steinitz and Blackburne, and remembering, almost a quarter of a century later, how deeply absorbed he was.

We next pick him up in 1880, when he applied to become a member of the London Stock Exchange. The 1881 census found him on holiday at the Grand Hotel in Brighton, giving his occupation as Stock Jobber. A Stock Jobber was a private trader in stocks and shares, as opposed to a Stock Broker who worked for clients.  The Grand Hotel, according to Wikipedia, “was intended for members of the upper classes visiting the town and remains one of Brighton’s most expensive hotels”. He’d clearly turned round his family fortunes, then.

By this time, Antony was spending much of his spare time frequenting Purssell’s and other places where the game was played socially.

He also acquired a new job, as a journalist for the Morning Post, a Conservative daily newspaper which would be taken over by the Daily Telegraph in 1937. In 1883 a major international tournament took place in London and Antony was dispatched to report on it. His reports must have proved very popular as the paper commissioned him to start a weekly column, beginning on 28 May 1883.

The column would typically include a problem (sometimes two) for solving, a list of successful solvers of the problem from two weeks earlier, a game, either contemporary or historical, news from home and abroad, answers to readers’ questions and, on occasion, book reviews, such as this one.

Morning Post 16 July 1883

Guest was always very enthusiastic about promoting chess for ladies, so would have been pleased to support Miss Beechey‘s venture.

Although he was not yet playing in public, he started publishing a few of his own games later in the year. Here he gave his opponent odds of pawn and move (he played black without his f-pawn). As always, click on any move in the game for a pop-up window.

By 1884 he had also started to compose problems, at first in collaboration with future BCF President John Thursby.

You’ll find the solution to all problems at the end of the article.

Problem 1. #3 A Guest & J Thursby Morning Post 26-05-1884

At the same time he played in public for the first time, in a handicap tournament at Simpson’s. Here he was accepting odds of pawn and move from the masters, who, in his section, were Blackburne and Gunsberg. He won his section with 7½/9, but was beaten by Mason, also giving him odds, in the play-off between the winners of the two sections.

Buoyed by this success he took part in his first master tournament, an event run by the British Chess Association in London. His performance, considering his lack of experience, was rather remarkable.

Gunsberg, as expected, ran out a comfortable winner with 14/15, but Guest shared second place with Bird on 12/15.

In his game against Wainwright (see earlier Minor Pieces) he gave up the exchange in the opening but later trapped his opponent’s queen.

He won very quickly against Hewitt, who wasn’t given the chance to recover from a hesitation in the opening.

This was a most auspicious debut for a relatively young (by the standards of the day) player. It was probably anticipated that he would have a big future in master chess, but, as it turned out, his first high level tournament would also be his best result.

Later that year Guest was involved in an interesting debate with John Ruskin.

Morning Post 14 September 1885

The debate as to whether chess should be on the school curriculum is still going on today, almost 140 years later. Unlike many of my colleagues in the world of junior chess, I’m very much in agreement with Guest here. Ralph Jackson shares our views.

Here’s another problem, this time a joint composition with Louis Desanges.

Problem 2. #3 A Guest & L Desanges Morning Post 16-11-1885

On the same day that this problem was published there was some important news.

Morning Post 16 November 1885

A few months later the new club ran a master tournament in which Guest took part, but this time he was much less successful, only scoring 2/7, well behind Blackburne (6½), Bird and Gunsberg (both 5), and not helped by defaulting his game against Pollock.

I’m not sure whether or not this game was played in the tournament. Guest attempted to play like Steinitz, but it didn’t end well.

He had better luck later in the year in the British Chess Association Amateur Championship, which was won by Gattie (15/18), Guest sharing second place with previous Minor Piece subjects Hooke and Wainwright on 13½/18.

The eccentric Wordsworth Donisthorpe didn’t last long in this game.

Guest’s next tournament was towards the end of 1887: the British Chess Association Congress in London. He had originally entered a lower section, but, on the withdrawal of Skipworth, was, at the last minute, promoted to the master section, where he would face the likes of Blackburne, Burn, Gunsberg and the ailing Zukertort.

He got off to a flying start, winning his first three games, against Bird, Pollock and the perpetual backmarker Mortimer.

His game against Pollock wasn’t short of excitement. He defended the Evans Gambit and, after various adventures, his extra pawn on the queenside eventually turned into a queen.

In Round 3 Guest sacrificed two rooks to win Mortimer’s queen. He miscalculated some later tactics, but his opponent failed to take advantage.

After a loss to Lee in the fourth round, his fifth round opponent, Mason, failed to arrive because he had confused the start time. Guest was originally awarded a win by default, but it was later decided that the game should be replayed, Mason winning.

He then lost his last four games against some of the world’s strongest players.

Against Burn he played a totally unsound Greek Gift sacrifice in this position, overlooking Black’s diagonal defence.

The game continued 9. Bxh7+? Kxh7 10. Ng5+ Kg8 and now he must have realised that 11. Qh5 fails to Bf5, while the move he tried, Qd3+, failed to g6. Regular Minor Piece readers will recall Locock making the same mistake.

Here’s the tournament crosstable.

In August 1888 the British Chess Association Amateur Championship took place in Bradford. I’m not sure how ‘amateur’ was defined (Guest was a professional chess journalist, but not a professional player), but the 1888 event was a rather weak affair compared to other years, notable for the participation of Eliza Thorold in days when ladies very rarely competed against gentlemen. There was a master tournament taking place at the same time in which some of the stronger amateurs, such as Charles Dealtry Locock, participated. Guest won with a score of 10/12, just half a point ahead of 20-year-old Bradford born mathematician George  Adolphus Schott, who, however, defeated him in their individual game.

In this game, winning his opponent’s IQP proved decisive.

The Field 01 September 1888

In August 1889 Antony Guest reported some important news. A lady had won the championship of the Bristol and Clifton Chess Club.

Morning Post 19 August 1889

“There is no reason why (ladies) should not excel at the game.” Guest’s views, propounded in a Conservative-leaning newspaper, were quite enlightened for his day. It was not until 1895, though, that another – very successful – Ladies’ Chess Club was started.

In November and December 1889 the British Chess Association Masters and Amateur tournaments took place consecutively rather than simultaneously in London, so George Wainwright was able to play in both events, while Guest only took part in the latter event. In those days games in amateur tournaments were played on a fairly casual basis with games often being postponed when one of the players was unavailable.

It seems that this event ground to a halt just before Christmas once Wainwright had guaranteed victory. Several of the other players, including Guest, had been too busy to play many of their games.

It’s not known whether any further games were played after this incomplete crosstable was published.

The Field 21 December 1889

As you’ll see, Guest was the only player to beat Wainwright, in an opening variation still topical today.

He made a tactical oversight in his game against Thomas Gibbons. His opponent, a disciple of Bird, opened with 1. f4 and sacrificed a pawn on the kingside for nebulous attacking chances.

In this position, 25… Ne7 would have kept him well in control, but he erred by playing 25… Be7? 26. Rdg1! Qxh4? 27. Rxg7+ Kh8 28. Qxf5!!, after which he had to resign.

From here on, Antony Guest was playing less frequently, perhaps by choice, or perhaps because he was too busy with other activities.

The 1891 census found Guest and his fellow chess journalist Leopold Hoffer living in lodgings in Fulham Road, right by Stamford Bridge stadium, which would, in 1905, become the home of the newly founded Chelsea FC.

Just look at the name of their next door neighbour.

Yes, there he is: Raymond Keene. Not, to the best of my knowledge, related to his grandmaster and author namesake, although this Raymond’s son and grandson were also named Raymond Keene.

In an 1891 club match Guest’s temporary queen sacrifice brought victory against a strong opponent who really should have spared himself the last 20 moves.

Later that year, Guest and Hoffer were both involved in a telephone chess match against Liverpool.

Daily News (London) 14 December 1891

Liverpool won the first game, while the second game resulted in a draw.

In August 1892 Guest returned to tournament chess, taking part in the Counties Chess Association tournament in Brighton.

It didn’t go well.

Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News 13 August 1892

George MacDonnell was particularly scathing about his performance.

Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News 13 August 1892

He should make due preparation and exert himself to the utmost. He didn’t pull his punches, did he?

Guest went horribly wrong on move 10 against the eventual winner.

But he did manage to win a nice minature against Lambert.

The following month he reached this position in a game at Simpson’s against OC Müller.

Here, Guest played 27. Qg6!, an offer which can’t be accepted, and threatening Qxh7+, an offer which can’t be refused. Black should now play 27… h6, when the game is likely to be drawn by perpetual check after 28. Rh3 and a later Rxh6+. Instead he erred with 27… Bg2?, and had to resign after 28. Rg4, as h6 would be met by Rxg2.

This scathing criticism of his play in Brighton didn’t stop him playing in club matches, such as this one against Twickenham.

The Field 21 January 1893

You can read more about the Humphreys family here and about Guest’s opponent here.

He was also playing for Metropolitan, here losing a brilliancy against one of the ‘fighting reverends’. He really should have known his chess history, though. Wayte reached a winning position from the opening by transposing into a very well known predecessor.

By now Antony Guest had resumed his problem composing career, now without collaborators.

Problem 3. #3 A Guest Morning Post 1893

(Source given in MESON: however I wasn’t able to find it in a quick look to identify the date of publication.)

Problem 4. #3 A Guest Illustrated London News 25-08-1894

In 1895 he took part in the cable match between the British and Manhattan Chess Clubs, where he faced John ‘Paddy’ Ryan, capable, according to the press, of producing ‘startling brilliancies’.

Here, Ryan punted the speculative 21… Bxh3!?. What do you think? We’ll never find out what would have happened as at that point time was called and the game declared drawn.

The Ladies’ Chess Club had been founded in January 1895, and Guest used his Morning Post column to promote their activities. He was invited to give a simul at their prizegiving ceremony.

Morning Post 29 July 1895

Approaching his 40th birthday, it might have seemed like Antony Guest was a confirmed bachelor, but in 1896 he married Violet Harrington Wyman, some eleven years his junior. Violet’s brother Harrington Edward Hodson Wyman, was a knight odds player at the British Chess Club, later becoming vice-president of Ealing Chess Club. Her family firm were the publishers of Mortimer’s The Chess-Player’s Pocket Book.

In January 1897 Guest returned to tournament chess, playing in a ten-player selection tournament for that year’s Anglo-American cable match. Again he failed to complete the event, withdrawing after only three games, two losses and a win against Herbert Jacobs. Whether or not this was due solely to pressure of work is unclear.

This would be his last tournament, although he continued playing club chess. His performances, as you can see here (taken from EdoChess), show a steady downward trajectory after a promising start.

The year 1897 was significant for the publication of FR Gittins’ volume The Chess Bouquet.

As one of the Chief Chess Editors of the United Kingdom, Guest certainly qualified for inclusion.

We’re offered a photograph, a biography, a game (against Pollock, see above) and two problems. Here’s how Gittins describes him.

Physically, Mr. Guest is a perfect giant, his towering form and splendid proportions being well in evidence at the recent Hastings Festival. Socially, he is one of the best, full of bonhomie and good humour.

This is a charming mate in 2, which, unfortunately, had been anticipated by Conrad Bayer, who had published a mirror image back in 1865. It’s been reprinted on a number of occasions over the years.

Problem 5. #2 A Guest The Chess Bouquet 1897

The second problem, number 3 above, was unfortunately given with a missing pawn on c7, allowing an unwanted second solution.

He wasn’t the only Guest in The Chess Bouquet. There were also entries for Black Country problemists Thomas Guest and his son Francis Hubert Guest, who were not, as far as I can tell, related to Antony.

Here’s an exciting game played at Simpson’s against a French opponent.

Although now retired from tournament play, Guest was still making occasional appearances in consultation games, and club and county matches, both over the board and by correspondence. He was also publishing the occasional problem, such as this one, from 1900.

Problem 6. #3 A Guest Morning Post 12-03-1900

Later that year, Guest wrote a very interesting article entitled Steinitz and Other Chess-Players, first published in The Contemporary Review, and later republished in the USA in The Living Age.

The last three paragraphs, which take a broader social view of the game, are those which interest me most.

Here he is, celebrating the increasing popularity of chess among the working classes.

The present extraordinary growth of the popularity of the game must surely have some significance. Many of the players are young men engaged in offices, shops and factories; that their numbers include several clergymen, doctors, lawyers and members of other professions is not so remarkable. What strikes me as important is that so many young clerks, and others of similar occupation, should find their chief recreation, at least in the winter months, in the game of chess.

And here again on the artistic side of chess.

But I believe that in most of us there is some kind of artistic instinct, some aesthetic tendency, that finds no outlet in the humdrum of everyday life. If this is true it would sufficiently account for the increasing popularity of chess, for it is an art as well as a game. Its intricacies and combinations are capable of affording aesthetic delight that may be compared with the emotions produced by poetry, pictures or music — different, no doubt, but, to many, similarly sufficing. One need not be an expert to enjoy the pleasure of play; to the beginner it is like a voyage through an unknown country teeming with beautiful surprises. Every sitting reveals some new and captivating feature, suggests some tempting path, or affords some hint as to the best mode of pursuing the journey.

They don’t write them like that any more, do they?

You can read the whole article, along with the chapter about Guest in The Chess Bouquet, in this excellent article by Batgirl (Sarah Beth Cohen).

In  1901 it was time for another census. Strangely, Mr & Mrs Guest were not together. Antony was lodging in Bayswater, while Violet and her parents were lodging in Hastings, perhaps on holiday together.

He returned to the social aspect of chess in a 1901 article explaining how chess can build friendships between people of different nationalities.

Bromley and West Kent Telegraph 12 October 1901

For a few years now, Guest seemed, apart from his column, to stop both playing and composing, only resuming in 1907.

In this game against G Freeman from a Surrey v Essex county match he built up a strong attack from the King’s Gambit Declined.

Black had just blundered and now the rather neat 23. Rf5! forced resignation.

Problem 7. #3 A Guest Morning Post 12-08-1907

His game annotations were also being syndicated across various newspapers.

In July 1909 Antony Guest was honoured to be the subject of a feature in the British Chess Magazine, who published a photograph along with a biographical sketch contributed by Frank Preston Wildman.

 

Problem 8. #3 A Guest British Chess Magazine 07-1907

Here’s another photo from the same year taken by Emil Otto Hoppé (Wiki), who remarkably lived on until 1972. One of his publishers was Sampson Low, Marston & Co, founded by an ancestor and namesake of the current Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club Secretary.

At some point during this decade, Antony and Violet moved out to 1 Anglesea Road, Kingston, alongside the Thames half way between Kingston and Surbiton. This was a sizeable property, with 12 rooms excluding bathrooms. (I’m not sure whether or not it was the white building you can see behind the trees, which is now Anglesea Lodge, 28 Portsmouth Road.)

This is the view from the Barge Walk on the other side of the river.

IMG_0218.JPG

The 1911 census found them there, along with two servants, William and Marie Wilkins, a married couple of about their age, and the Wilkins’ teenage daughter Elsie.

Guest decided to join Surbiton Chess Club, playing in this match against Wimbledon.

Wimbledon News 23 December 1911

He was now becoming less active in the chess world, but in 1914 had the opportunity to express his views again on chess for schoolboys.

Cork Weekly News 25 July 1914

“In opening the way to friendships the practice of chess is very valuable to young men.”

I totally agree, although these days we might want to refer to young people instead. It worked for me, anyway.

Guest’s column continued through the war, although there was little chess action to report.

Here, he took the lack of competitive chess during the hostilities to promote the value of social chess in promoting friendship.

Cheltenham Chronicle 15 January 1916

His wife Violet sadly died in February 1921. That June the 1921 census found him still the head of the household at 1 Anglesea Road, and still working as a journalist. There was a resident housekeeper, but most of the property was taken up by motor builder John Bambury, who ran his own business in Kingston, along with his wife and five children aged between 17 and 22.

Guest was still seen regularly at major events such as Hastings and the British Championship, but by the 1924-25 Hastings Congress he was clearly in poor health and died after an operation on 29 January.

Linlithgowshire Gazette 13 February 1925

He didn’t leave that much money, compared to Hamilton Brooke Guernsey, one of whose administrators, Leslie Dewing, – one for coincidence lovers here – would have seen him at Hastings four weeks earlier, where he lost all his games in the Premier Section 1. (Coincidentally again, or perhaps not, there’s currently a marketing agency in Guernsey called Hamilton Brooke.)

The Morning Post was far from being Guest’s only chess outlet. At various times, according to Tim Harding in British Chess Literature to 1914, he also wrote columns for the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News, the Daily News, Cassell’s Saturday Journal, Life and Tinsley’s Magazine.

Nor was chess the only subject on which he wrote. In 1891 Guest and barrister Sylvain Mayer co-authored Captured in Court, a novel with a legal setting. Some of the reviews were pretty harsh. “It is very unlikely to add to the reputation of either as story writers”, according to the Glasgow Herald. “… the bundle of incidents which does duty for a plot is as amateurish as the style”, proclaimed the National Observer. According to the Weekly Dispatch, “The plot is preposterous and the dialogue inane”. Preposterous plots and inane dialogues were perhaps more suitable for children’s literature, and, from 1895 onwards, he contributed to collections of short stories alongside such authors as E(dith) Nesbit, still much loved and remembered today for books such as The Railway Children.

In 1896 Antony Guest contributed an article on Some Old English Games to The Badminton Magazine of Sports and Pastimes, describing games such as Pall Mall and Shuffleboard, illustrated by Albert Ludovici., followed by More Notes on Old English Games a year later, this time including Bandy-Ball and Nine Men’s Morris.

In the early 20th century he developed (pun not intended) an interest in photography, and in 1907 his book Art and the Camera was published by G Bell and Sons, who of course also published chess  books.

Morning Post 10 August 1907

This time the critics were unanimous in their praise. Modern reprints are readily available should you wish to read it.

In 1910 he turned his attention from cameras to cancer.

London Evening Standard 15 March 1910

It’s still a hot topic today, and the evidence is still inconclusive.

A man of many interests, as well as chess, then. Polymaths were probably more common then than now.

There are a couple of family issues to clear up.

Antony and Violet had no children. His sister (Isabella) Katherine married a wealthy man named Robert Edward McLeod in 1883. Robert’s brother Bentley was a chess player, representing Surrey, Brixton and Metropolitan, through the last of which he would have known Antony. Robert died in 1893, leaving his wife with two young children. Neither of them had children, so that was the end of Augustus Guest’s family. Katherine died, like her father, in a mental hospital, in Brighton in 1941.

To find Antony’s closest relations, then, we have to travel to Australia. Henry, whom you met at the start of this article, returned to England with some of his many children after his retirement. The family was hit by tragedy when his daughter Helen died in 1907. Helen and her older sister Ethel were very close, and, 18 months later, Ethel, suffering from depression as a result of the loss of her beloved sister, took her own life. There were mental health problems, then, on both sides of the Guest family.

Henry’s son Stanley later returned to Australia, married and had six children, the youngest of whom, Marisa, born in 1929, is still alive. Marisa, the closest surviving relation of Antony Guest, is the mother of Ralph Jackson.

One of the wonderful things about chess is that, even if playing competitive chess doesn’t appeal to you, there are many other ways of living your life through your favourite game. For Guest’s contemporary and acquaintance Charles Dealtry Locock it was through problems, writing and, in the last period of his life, teaching. For Antony Guest himself, it was as a journalist and occasional problemist. His record of almost 42 years might pale in comparison with Leonard Barden’s records, but it’s still very impressive. You can see a lot in common: both strong players who, finding competition a little bit too stressful, concentrated on their, in both cases, excellent newspaper columns, and perhaps did far more good in promoting chess in that way than they would have done by just playing.

He was in many ways a man ahead of his time as well. Although he wrote for a conservative newspaper, he was always very keen to promote chess for ladies, for the lower middle and working classes, and for schoolboys (it would be left to Locock to include schoolgirls). He also promoted chess for recreational and social reasons, to establish friendships on a local, national and international basis. I couldn’t agree more. Ralph Jackson is very lucky to be able to count Antony Guest as a close relation.

Problem Solutions:

Problem 1:

Problem 2:

Problem 3:

Problem 4:

Problem 5.

Problem 6.

Problem 7.

Problem 8.

Acknowledgements and sources.

Ralph Jackson – private correspondence
Batgirl (Sarah Beth Cohen) articles on Guest and Donisthorpe at chess.com
Krone Family website here
ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
ChessBase/MegaBase2023/Stockfish16.1
chessgames.com (Antony Guest here)
EdoChess (Antony Guest here)
British Chess Literature to 1914 (Tim Harding)
The Chess Bouquet (FR Gittins)
British Chess Magazine July 1909 (thanks to John Upham)
Wikipedia
Yet Another Chess Problem Database
MESON Chess Problem Database

Other sources referred and linked in the text.

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Minor Pieces 78: John Edward (Jack) Redon

Jack Redon was one of the elder statesmen at Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club for the first 20 years or so of my membership. On completing my studies in 1972 I joined the committee and got to know him well.

Jack was a pretty strong player who was known for his artistic interests. He was a commercial artist by profession, designing things like LP sleeves, but had a particular interest in amateur dramatics and seemed to be involved with every artistic society in the area.

He seemed to live a life of some affluence, sharing a large Victorian house near Richmond Bridge with his wife and sister. Richmond Junior Chess Club would later spend many years in another large house on the same estate, which had been converted into a community centre.

(I also visited the house regularly years later, to teach a chess pupil whose name, coincidentally, was also Jack.)

If you have an interest in 19th century domestic architecture it’s well worth a stroll round these roads. You can also read more about the Twickenham Park estate here and here.

The distinguished poet John Greening also knew Jack very well at about this time, describing him well in a memoir.

He was indeed an extraordinary man, full of wise saws and anecdotes. He did tend to repeat them time and time again at every committee meeting, but, given his age and seniority within the club, we forgave him his eccentricities. He generously made his residence available for these meetings in the mid 1970s, and, when one of our younger members suggested we might meet in a pub instead, he didn’t take kindly to the idea.

While John Greening recalls the unperformed playscripts, I recall the skirting boards being lined with paintings, which, like his plays, were created for his own pleasure rather than for profit. My recollection is that they may well have been in the style of Odilon Redon: and he also told us that he was Odilon’s great nephew. But was it true?

Almost certainly not. Odilon (Wiki) came from a wealthy slave-trading family and, although born in Bordeaux, was conceived in New Orleans, like Paul Morphy the son of a Creole mother. Jack’s family background was very different. It has little to do with chess, so if you want to see some moves you’ll have to jump ahead, but if you’re interested in social history you’ll want to read on. Or even Redon!

Redon is a rather unusual French surname specifically associated with the South West of the country. But let me take you back more than 300 years, to 1722. We have a record of a clandestine marriage for one Peter Redon, a weaver living in Stepney. If you see a weaver with a French surname in that part of London at that time you’ll probably assume that he was a Huguenot. Maybe, but Jack’s ancestors later embraced the Jewish religion, calling their children Elias, Abraham and Reuben, Leah, Esther, Rachel and Rebecca.

By 1798 the Redons had crossed the river to Southwark, where Elias (a labourer) and his wife Rachel were accused of running a brothel. In 1839 Abraham Redon, perhaps a son of Elias and Rachel, was on the other side of the law, a victim of a crime. He was working as a toll collector at the Cambridge Heath tollgate in Hackney and, while he was sleeping, two of his assistants, Henry Walker and John Hollingshead, stole his takings. Both were found guilty at the Old Bailey and sent to prison.

In the 1841 census we have John and Leah Redon, along with their children Alfred (20) and Esther (15), living in Woolwich, with John working as a toll collector. Alfred’s occupation is not legible, but certainly not ‘toll collector’. Woolwich is not all that near Hackney. Alfred was actually Abraham Alfred, so was John actually Abraham John, or were Abraham and John brothers sharing an occupation?

Esther, who had an illegitimate daughter, spent much of her later years in and out of the workhouse, their records describing her as a Jewess. Abraham Alfred, showing the first sign of artistic talent in the family, worked as a painter and signwriter. He married Rose Sawyer in about 1854 (or perhaps he didn’t: I haven’t been able to find a marriage record), but, tragically, none of their first six children lived to see their seventh birthday. Their two youngest sons did survive, though: John Edward, born in 1867 (baptised in the Church of England) and Reuben Alfred, born in 1869. Rose died in 1887, and by the time of the 1891 census Abraham Alfred, unable to look after himself in old age, was in the workhouse, where he died the following year.

So far, the Redon family history is one of poverty and tragedy, very different from the affluent environment in which their namesake Odilon grew up. But Jack gave the impression of being fairly affluent himself. What happened to change the family’s fortunes?

Reuben Edward Redon, continuing the family’s artistic tradition, making a living first as a glass embosser (in 1901 he was living in the road running alongside my old school, Latymer Upper), and later as a designer of showcards, running a business in Harrow for several years.

Harrow Observer 22 September 1911

He was married, but had no children, and died, by that time living near his brother in Peckham, in 1927.

We need to follow John Edward Redon and see what happened in his life. In 1871 he was in Manor Place, Walworth (just south of Elephant and Castle) with his parents, brother and aunt. In 1881 the family were still at the same address: John had left school and was working as an office boy. In 1891, his mother having died and his father in the workhouse, the two brothers were living in a boarding house near the Old Kent Road, the cheapest place on the Monopoly board. John was now, following in his father’s footsteps, working as a signwriter.

By the 1901 census John was working as a clerk for London County Council, and boarding just south of Waterloo Station, right by Westminster Bridge. Also there was a dressmaker named Bessie Emma Varney, and, in October that year they married. Bessie’s family seems to have been London working class, and, her mother having died when she was only 5 years old, she and her younger sister were brought up by relatives. John and Bessie had three children, René Bessie (1902), John Edward, named after his father, who would always be known as Jack (1905) and Reuben Ernest (1908-1912).

At some point, I’d guess from circumstantial evidence, round about 1903, John left his job with the council and formed a partnership with Danzig born Charles Ernest Rokicki. They started two companies, a moneylending business based at John’s home address in Lambeth, and a shop in the Old Kent Road.

In 1907, John, like his grandfather before him, fell victim to a robbery when a habitual criminal named Reuben Vaughan (there are a lot of Reubens in this story) paid for a gramophone and 46 records using a forged cheque, receiving a sentence of six years penal servitude.

Their partnership was dissolved in 1910, with John apparently buying his partner out.

London Gazette 5 July 1910

The family business of Musical Instrument and Cycle Factors and General Furnishers must have been successful. In 1911 they were living above their Old Kent Road shop. John, perhaps no longer involved in the moneylending business, was described as a Dealer in Musical Instruments (Gramophones), while Bessie was assisting in the business. They were able to afford to employ a Domestic Servant (Mother’s Help) to give Bessie a hand in looking after the children. Young Reuben, sadly, would die the following year.

Within the space of two decades the family had gone from workhouse poverty to employing a servant. At some point between 1911 and 1921 they moved their shop to 185 Queen’s Road, Peckham.

During the First World War John was called upon to serve his country as a clerk in the Admiralty: he was still there in 1921. Bessie, who seems to have been a remarkably strong and ambitious woman, was running the business on her own, describing herself in the 1921 census as a Music Seller. René had no occupation recorded, although I’d guess she was helping out in the shop, while 16-year-old Jack was a part-time art student.

As well as studying art, Jack was becoming interested in the Art of Chess, joining Battersea Chess Club.

Richmond Herald 29 September 1923

Here he is, in 1923, becoming the second ever winner of the Wernick Cup, which is still, more than a century on, the fourth division of the Surrey individual championship. In 1962 the name of another promising young player, RD Keene would be engraved on the trophy. It’s easy to forget that, in these days of preteen grandmasters, a century ago it was relatively unusual for teenagers to take part in competitive chess against adults.

His would be a solid rather than a meteoric chess career, though, developing into a strong club player who, by 1926, was good enough to be selected for an important county match.

Birmingham Daily Post 11 October 1926

He lost his game, but Surrey’s greater strength on the higher boards saw them through. Crossword addicts will notice an anagram on the other side.

While he continued playing chess, Jack soon took up a new interest, in amateur dramatics, setting up a group in his local church. (By now the family were very much Church of England.)

South London Observer 02 November 1929

You’ll note the name Florence Warden, also known, from what I recall, as Flossie, who was living with her grandmother and step grandfather, having lost her mother in childbirth when she was only one year old.

John died in early 1931, and it’s quite possible that Jack now had to take a greater role in running the family business. He still had time to play chess, though, and by 1935 had reached top board for Battersea.

South Western Star 29 November 1935

He had also reached the top section of the county championship, but in this game from 1937 he was out of his depth against a strong opponent. (For this and all games in this article, click on any move for a pop-up window.)

In this county match game from the same period against an electrician from Brighton, he played an opening gambit and probably didn’t have enough for the pawn, but when he threatened a queen sacrifice his opponent carelessly overlooked it.

and probably didn’t have enough for the pawn, but when he threatened a queen sacrifice his opponent carelessly overlooked it.

The amateur dramatics must have been going well too, as in 1938 he married his fellow thespian Florence Warden.

You’ll immediately note Jack’s artistic signature, appropriately for a member of a family involved in signwriting. There are two other things to note as well. The marriage took place not locally but in the City of London, at St Michael Paternoster Royal, a church associated with Dick Whittington, which had been rebuilt by Sir Christopher Wren after the Great Fire. He gave an address nearby, which, I suspect, was a dummy address enabling him to marry there. You’ll also see that his late father’s occupation was given as Accountant, which doesn’t tie in with other records. Perhaps he did the accounts for the family shop, or maybe it was a euphemism for Moneylender.

His marriage certainly didn’t stop his chess career: at this point he was very active in both club and county chess, winning a prize for one of the best performances in the Battersea first team. If you look at some of the other names here you’ll observe that it was a very strong club at the time.

Streatham News 08 September 1939

Although marriage didn’t stop Jack playing chess, the war did. Just three days before this report appeared, and with war just having broken out, a national registration of the civilian population was taken.

Bessie, now in her late 60s, was still running her shop in Peckham, selling gramophone records, musical instruments and cycles. Jack and Florence were living there as well, as was Florence’s elderly grandmother Matilda, an old age pensioner. Florence had a temporary job operating an Elliott-Fisher bookkeeping machine. Jack was described as a designer of sight tests on glass, etching and stencil cutting.

Most of London’s chess clubs, including Battersea, closed for the duration, so there was little opportunity now for Jack to play chess. Matilda died in 1942, and Bessie in 1943. I presume Jack and René would have inherited the business, selling it and moving, along with Florence, to their new home in Twickenham. They must have done pretty well for themselves: not only were they able to afford a large house in a desirable area, but it seems that they no longer needed to work for a living. Not quite Old Kent Road to Mayfair, but still pretty impressive.

Jack threw himself enthusiastically into his theatre and chess hobbies, which would dominate the rest of his life. In 1944 he was a member of the Twickenham Community Players, writing and producing plays for them, just as he had done back in Peckham. They even met for rehearsals at his house (was he the founder, I wonder), but sought larger premises at the new Georgian Club in Richmond.

Jack joined Kingston and Thames Valley Chess Club, which, like Barnes Village, continued meeting during the war. He also rejoined Battersea, who resumed their activities in 1945, where he would win their club championship in 1960.  There was now no active chess club in Richmond or Twickenham, though, and this was something he wanted to change. He started a chess section at the Georgian Club, which had modest beginnings.

Richmond Herald 02 June 1945

Retired schoolmaster Phillip Flower, who lived round the corner from Jack, had been strong enough to play in the Major Open at the 1911 British Championships, as well as the First Class in 1921 and 1922, where his victims included future stars Fairhurst and Buerger. Jacob Zafransky ran (or at least he did in 1939) a radio and cycle shop again just round the corner from Jack: there might have been a work connection as his business was very similar to that of Jack’s family.

By the following year they were able to raise a dozen players for a match against an established club.

Richmond Herald 08 December 1945

Jack had managed to recruit two very strong players for the top boards: eccentric philosopher, schoolteacher and much else Dr JD (John David) Solomon, and civil servant Geoffrey Ashcroft, who, although he lived in East Sheen, was a friend and colleague from Battersea Chess Club. It’s pleasing to see that Reginald Tarrant (and it was lovely to hear from his son-in-law recently) provided a link with the ‘Old Richmond and Kew Club’.

The following March, Jack gave a simultaneous display, which proved very successful.

Richmond Herald 30 March 1946

The prizewinning Miss Nesbitt must have been Violet Ella Nesbitt Kemp, an architect’s daughter, who would, some three decades later, rejoin what was by that point Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club. Remarkably, being born in 1888 and dying in 1992, she lived to the age of 103 . I was led to believe she was an actress, but perhaps only on an amateur basis, which might have been where she met Jack.

In 1947 a match was played against Twickenham Chess Club, which had recently reformed, the previous club of that name having folded some years previously. Richmond seem to have dropped ‘Georgian’ from their name, now established as Richmond Chess Club.

Richmond Herald 01 February 1947

Captain Samuel Ould (a civil servant in 1939, although he always used his military rank from the First World War) provided another link with the previous Richmond and Kew Chess Club, while Ted Fairbrother would remain a member into the 1970s.

A few months later Kingston and Thames Valley Chess Club staged a megamatch against a combined Richmond and Twickenham team (just as they did again in 2022). The Teddington club would have been the NPL, the Sunbury club British Thermostat and the Whitton club perhaps Old Latymerians.

Richmond Herald 14 June 1947

You’ll see that Jack, as their club champion, represented Kingston on this occasion. By beating Blake, who had, many decades earlier, beaten Rev John Owen, who had beaten Morphy, this gave him a Morphy Win number of 3.

Being a member of three chess clubs wasn’t enough for Jack Redon. He also played for Twickenham in the London and Middlesex Leagues. (I haven’t found any online information about the founding of the post-war Twickenham Chess Club, but I suppose he might have been involved.)

Here he is, playing in a match against Uxbridge in 1950.

Uxbridge & W. Drayton Gazette 08 December 1950

His opponent here, Harry Bogdanor, was a rather dodgy pharmacist (see discussion here) and the father of political scientist (and David Cameron’s tutor) Vernon Bogdanor. FG (Griff) Griffiths was still involved with Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club into the early 1970s. I also have an interest in SA Lester, who, I hope, was precision tool maker and amateur musician Sydney Arthur Lester. At any rate he was the only SA Lester I’ve been able to find in the Twickenham area at the time. Perhaps I’ll tell you more in a future article.

Richmond and Twickenham Chess Clubs were clearly working closely together, in 1952 sending a combined team down for a friendly match at Hastings. Jack scored a fortuitous win on top board against an English international.

Hastings and St Leonards Observer 06 September 1952

You’ll notice endgame study expert John Roycroft on Board 2. I ‘m sure AL Fletcher was L Elliott Fletcher, author of Gambits Accepted, and Miss Fletcher his daughter Lesley, who would later marry Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club’s Robert Pinner. I lose to George Anslow in the corresponding fixture in 1974.

In 1954 the team visiting Hastings, although billed just as Twickenham, was quite a lot stronger, seeming to have recruited some players from other Middlesex clubs rather than Richmond for the match.

Hastings and St Leonards Observer 11 September 1954

I don’t know much about Edgar Brown, whose club was sometimes billed as Wembley & Hampstead. He won the RAF Championship and 1944 and shared 1st place in the 1950-51 British Correspondence Championship. Another Twickenham player in this match was was chess administrator and bigamist Alan Stammwitz (see this thread).

Playing on second board in the 1956 Hastings v Twickenham match he defeated a highly respected opponent with an original sacrifice in the Max Lange Attack. Although it wasn’t quite sound, his opponent, a bank official who, like all the best chess players at the time, had retired to Hastings, was unable to cope, rapidly going down in flames.

Throughout this time, Jack remained very active in amateur dramatics. He never had the looks of a leading man, but excelled in comic and character roles. In 1946 his portrayal of Sir Andrew Aguecheek in Twelfth Night was ‘handled with a delightful touch and never over-played’, while in 1949 he was ‘well cast as the cowardly Oswald’ in King Lear. I’m not sure whether that was a compliment or an insult.

Although he was an enthusiastic participant in club and county chess, tournaments were, with one exception, not for him. In 1957 he successfully entered the qualifying tournament for the British Championship, held that year in Plymouth.

In 1956 he’d appeared in the BCF Grading List at 5a, about 2050 Elo, and remained round about that level for several years – a pretty strong amateur who could – and did – hold down a high board in club matches and a low board in county matches.

Here, he found the going tough, finishing on just 3 points out of 11.

He was well beaten in this game, where his opponent exploited his space advantage with a central breakthrough.

He demonstrated his tactical skills in this game, winning with a powerful kingside attack.

You can see him here, the bald-headed gentleman standing in the centre, with Milner-Barry and Franklin seated in front of him

1958 saw a merger between Richmond and Twickenham Chess Clubs. The result, Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club, is still thriving today. I’m not sure what part Jack played in the merger, but he must surely have been involved and given his blessing.

I’m not sure whether or not he was playing for Richmond & Twickenham in this game, a clash between the 1923 and 1962 winners of the Wernick Cup.

A few years later, Ray would treat the opening in more restrained fashion. Here, he gave Jack some difficult chances, but he was unable to take advantage.

It was only a few years later that Keene would publish his first book, Flank Openings, which I bought and eagerly devoured. It influenced my choice of opening when I faced Jack in the 1969 Richmond & Twickenham Club Championship. I called this system, a cross between a Réti and an Orangutan, the Yeti Opening.

It worked well here (I think the opening was never Jack’s strong point) and soon won a piece, but didn’t want to win hard enough against such an illustrious opponent and let him escape with a perpetual check. (If I’d won, as I should have done, it would have given me a Morphy Win number of 4, although I may well have beaten him in a casual game at some point.)

You might assume that chess players with artistic interests would play artistic chess, while those with scientific interests would prefer scientific chess. It doesn’t always work, but it was certainly true of Jack Redon. From the small sample of games here we can see someone who, at least with the white pieces, favoured dashing gambits and sacrifices, which, while not always sound, often worked over the board.

By now well into his sixties, there was inevitably some decline in his playing strength, but he continued to take part in club matches as well as serving on the club committee. In 1981 he designed a new logo for what was then the British Chess Federation.

His beloved wife Florence died in 1985, but he remained on the grading list until 1988, his clubs listed as Richmond Community Centre as well as Richmond & Twickenham. Suffering from dementia, he eventually moved to a care home in nearby Hampton Hill, where he died in 1994 at the age of 89. It appears, although there are some inconsistencies in the records, that his sister René died in Hastings in 1996, bringing an end to that branch of the Redon family.

Jack may not have been, as he believed, or wanted us to believe, the great nephew of Odilon, but I think he was something far more interesting. A man who was fortunate enough to be able spend the last fifty years of his life indulging in his favourite hobbies. He was a very good, but perhaps not brilliant, actor, playwright and artist, but he wrote plays and painted pictures not with the intention of making money but for the sheer joy of doing so. He played chess for many decades for the same reason: not a great player, but certainly a good enough player: champion of Kingston and Battersea, British Championship contender, achievements not to be taken lightly. Perhaps many of us can learn from the way Jack lived his life.

But more than that, he contributed an enormous amount to the local community in Richmond and Twickenham by founding and organising clubs and societies so that others had the opportunity to share his passions, and, through them, form friendships and enhance their lives. I believe that hobby clubs, whether chess, theatre or a thousand and one other wonderful things, are of vital importance for social cohesion, mental health and many other reasons. All of us at Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club have reason to be grateful to Jack Redon, who might justifiably be seen as the club’s founder. I hope he’s looking on benignly, delighted that, many years later, the club is still thriving.

Sources and Acknowledgements:

ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Archives
chessgames.com
BritBase
ChessBase/MegaBase
Surrey County Chess Association website
Battersea and Kingston Chess Club websites
Brian Denman
John Saunders

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Minor Pieces 74: Charles Dealtry Locock (1)

Sir Charles Locock (1799-1875) was an interesting chap. Queen Victoria’s obstretician, he also pioneered potassium bromide as a treatment for epilepsy and conducted the autopsy in the notorious Eastbourne Manslaughter Case, establishing that an unfortunate 15-year-old boy had died as a result of corporal punishment.

Locock had five sons, four of whom had distinguished careers. Charles junior became a barrister, Alfred a clergyman, Sidney a diplomat and Herbert an army officer. The middle son, Frederick, though, was the black sheep of the family. He married the illegitimate daughter of a labourer and brought up a son who claimed he was the illegitimate child of Princess Louise. There’s little evidence that this might be true, so we’ll move swiftly on to the Reverend Alfred Henry Locock.

Alfred married Anna Maria Dealtry: their four children were Ella, Charles Dealtry, Henry and Mabel.

Charles Dealtry Locock, born in Brighton on 27 September 1862, was a lifelong chess addict. He started playing chess at his prep school, Cheam, which is now in Hampshire, but really was in Cheam in those days, delivering a back rank mate at the age of 6 or 7, and later winning a tournament there. I would have thought chess tournaments at prep schools were quite unusual in those days. Moving to Winchester at the age of 13, and playing chess on his first evening there, he could find no one to beat him, instead immersing himself in the world of chess problems.

In Autumn 1881 Locock went up to University College Oxford, where he takes up the story.

Wainwright (see here, here and here) was sufficiently impressed to select his adversary for matches against the Oxford city club, Birmingham and the City of London club. At first he was placed on bottom board, but rapidly worked his way up the board order.

In those days the standard of play in the universities wasn’t strong, and their teams would take on the Knight’s Class players of the City of London Club (who would receive knight odds from the top players). Here, he describes a game was one of those matches.

I’m not sure how reliable Locock’s memoir is. We do have a game against Staniforth with a bishop on b2, but otherwise it doesn’t match this description. As with all the games in this article, just click on any move for a pop-up window.

By the 1882 Varsity Match Locock had reached Board 3, where he scored a draw and a win against Edward Lancelot Raymond. He already had quite a reputation as a tactician, the BCM describing him as ‘perhaps the most brilliant and attacking player now at either University’. Unfortunately, the score of his second game, decided ‘by an uncommonly happy series of finishing strokes’, does not appear to have survived.

The 1883 Varsity Match found Locock on top board against Frank Morley. The first game was a solid draw, but the second was more exciting. Zukertort adjudicated the game a draw, but today’s engines give Morley (Black, to play) a winning advantage after h5 (or h6) followed by Ng4.

That summer he played his first tournament, the Second Class section of the Counties Chess Association meeting in Birmingham, scoring 10/14 for second place, a point behind Pollock.

In October that year he took part in a Living Chess exhibition in his home town of Brighton. It all sounded rather splendid.

The Graphic 27 October 1883

Playing against auctioneer and estate agent Walter Mead, early exchanges led to Locock being a pawn down. Exchanges in living chess games are always fun, but didn’t really play to his strengths. (The game had actually been played the previous day: they re-created the moves for the exhibition.)

Round about this point we have a mystery. Several correspondence games between Locock and FA Vincent were published, dated 1884. Locock’s memoirs suggest they were actually played much earlier, when he was still at school. They also state that his opponent was Mrs Vincent, while newspaper columns of the time refer to this player as Mr Vincent. We can identify Francis Arthur Frederick Vincent, a retired Indian Civil Servant who had been born in Singapore, living in Cam, Gloucestershire (not far from Slimbridge Wetland Centre) with his wife, born, rather strangely, Sutherland Rebecca Sutherland. It’s not clear which of them was the chess player, or whether they might have collaborated on their games. If you know more than I do, don’t hesitate to get in touch.

In the 1884 Varsity Match Locock again faced Frank Morley on top board. This time they only had time for one game, and, more than compensating for the previous year’s incorrect adjudication, he was awarded a win in a lost position, even though Bird, the adjudicator, spent 15 minutes determining what the result should be.

In summer 1884 Locock was promoted to Division 2 of the First Class tournament in the Counties Chess Association gathering, held that year in Bath, finishing on 4½/10. First place was divided between Fedden, Loman and Pollock.

However, his game against Blake, where, after getting the worst of the opening, he successfully ventured a positional queen sacrifice for two minor pieces, demonstrated exactly why his creativity, imagination and tactical ability were so highly regarded. He must have seen at move 18 that his queen was being trapped.

Here’s a position from a game against Colonel Duncan of the St George’s Club (whom I suspect was this rather interesting fellow) he sacrificed four pawns for nebulous attacking chances against his opponent’s Benoni formation.

He was rewarded when the Colonel overlooked his threat, playing 31… b3?? (there were plenty of good defences available), allowing 32. Qxh6!! Kg8 33. Rxg6 with a winning attack.

In the 1885 Varsity Match Locock was again on top board, this time facing a former prodigy, John Drew Roberts. This game suggested that, although he excelled at attacking play, he was less comfortable in endings.

Here, Locock (Black, to move), would have been slightly better after a move like d4 or a5, but misguidedly played 32… b5?, allowing 33. b4!, fixing some pawns on the same colour square as his bishop.

A few moves later he erred again: Bd7, for example, should hold, but after 35… Rf8? 36. Rxf8+ Kxf8 37. b4! he was saddled with a bad bishop against a good knight. Roberts converted his advantage efficiently.

From these examples, we can see that Locock was a player with very specific strengths and weaknesses.

The 1885 Counties Chess Association meeting was held in Hereford, and, in the Class 1A tournament he shared first place with another old friend of ours, George Archer Hooke.

The game between the two winners was a very exciting affair which Locock really should have won, but positions with queens flying round an open board are never easy to calculate.

Locock’s fifth and last Varsity Match appearance in 1886 was another defeat, when he misdefended against Herman George Gwinner’s kingside attack. That year he finally graduated with honours in Classics.

In the Counties Chess Association meeting in Nottingham he encountered two members of the Marriott family in the Minor Tournament Division 1. John Owen took first place, ahead of Edwin Marriott, with Locock, Thomas Marriott and George MacDonnell sharing third place. Although he lost to both Marriotts he managed to beat Owen, who blundered in what should have been a drawn ending.

Locock then took a job as an assistant master at Worcester Cathedral School, whose headmaster, William Ernest Bolland, was a chess acquaintance of his.

In August 1887, placed in a stronger section, he disappointed in the Counties Chess Association meeting in Stamford. Blake won with 5/6, and Locock’s solitary point left him in last place.

Later in the year (I’m not sure how he managed to get the time off his teaching job) he took part in the Amateur Championship in the 3rd British Chess Association Congress. He won his qualifying group, shared 1st place in the final group, where he encountered his old University friend Wainwright, and won the play-off against Frederick Anger, making him the British Amateur Chess Champion.

August 1888 gave Locock his first taste of international chess. The British Chess Association held a tournament in Bradford, and Locock was invited to take part. His score was respectable given the strength of the opposition.

It could have been so much better, though. He certainly should have beaten MacKenzie in the first round.

He lost in ridiculous fashion against the tournament winner in a game which he might later have confused with the Staniforth game.

Either Nxg7 or the simple Rxe1 would have given him a very large advantage, but instead he played the absurd Qh6??, simply overlooking that Black could block the discovered check with f6.

His game against Mortimer again demonstrated his prowess in the Ruy Lopez.

On 12 February 1889, at St George’s Hanover Square, Charles Dealtry Locock married his first cousin, Ida Gertrude Locock, a daughter of Charles’s army officer Uncle Herbert. They can’t have had much time for a honeymoon as he was soon in action again over the board.

In a March 1889 match between Oxford Past and Cambridge Past (the first of what would become an annual event) he faced an interesting opponent in economist John Neville Keynes, the father of John Maynard Keynes.

Again he attacked strongly in the opening, but missed the best continuation, allowing his opponent to equalise, and then blundered in what should have been a drawn ending.

They met again in the same fixture two years later, the game resulting in a draw.

At the end of 1889 Locock resigned his position at Worcester Cathedral School, briefly taking a post at Hereford Grammar School before moving to London.

The BCA ran another strong international tournament in 1890, this time in Manchester. This time Locock was less successful, although he did score 50% against the top four.

Unlike two years before, he made no mistake against MacKenzie.

In 1891 Locock’s first daughter was born in Hawkhurst, Kent, although his location was still being given as London at the time. He was also still playing at the British Chess Club, winning this brilliant miniature against a strong opponent in their handicap tournament.

In 1892 the BCA ran another international tournament, this time in London, with the participation of the young Emanuel Lasker. Locock did well to score 6½/11.

Unfortunately, his draw against Lasker doesn’t appear to have been published, but we do have this game.

This would be his last tournament, although he continued playing in matches for several more years.

Soon afterwards Charles Dealtry Locock and his family moved out of London and back to his county of birth, settling in the village of Burwash, not all that far from Hawkhurst. Although it was 15 miles away, he wasn’t deterred from joining the Hastings and St Leonards Chess Club.

Hastings and St Leonards Observer 17 December 1892

It was in Burwash that his second daughter was born in 1894. Meanwhile, he was taking part in county and other matches, and playing consultation games with other leading players, a popular feature of Hastings chess at the time.

Here’s an exciting example in which he had a very strong partner.

One of the opposing team would late meet a tragic end, as described in Edward Winter’s excellent and thorough article here.

The same year a cable match took place between the British and Manhattan Chess Clubs, which was the predecessor of the official Anglo-American Cable Matches starting the following year. Locock was matched against Albert Beauregard Hodges: their game was drawn in 28 moves.

As a gentleman amateur he was just the sort of chap the selectors were looking for, and, although he was no longer an active tournament player he was selected for the Great Britain team for the first four matches. In 1896 he drew a fairly long ending against Edward Hynes, but in 1897 he was well beaten by Jackson Whipps Showalter.

Locock, playing Black, had misplayed the opening, and now Showalter replied to 14… Bxg5 with 15. Rxd7! Kxd7 16. Qg4+ Qe6 17. Qd4+ Kc8 18. Bxg5, having no problem converting his advantage.

This very short consultation game is (or at least was) perhaps his best known game, although it’s not clear whether the game lasted 9 or 18 moves. Unsurprisingly, it involves a queen sacrifice.

This position, from an 1897 match between North London and Hastings & St Leonards, is another demonstration of how Locock’s predilection for sacrifices could end up looking foolish.

He was Black here against Joseph William Hunt.

Locock being Locock, he couldn’t resist the Greek Gift sacrifice here. 11… Bxh2? 12. Kxh2 Ng4+. Here, Hunt played 13. Kg3?, which was unclear, the game eventually resulting in a draw, but 13. Kg1! Qh4 14. Bf4! would have left Black with very little for the piece. These sacrifices usually don’t work if your opponent has a diagonal defence of this nature: there are one or two examples of this in Chess Heroes: Puzzles Book 1. Curiously, the notes in the Pall Mall Gazette (Gunsberg?) claim that 13. Kg1 ‘was obviously impossible owing to Qh4 by Black’. Obviously not, but newspaper annotations, without Stockfish to assist and probably written overnight, were very poor in those days.

In the 1898 Cable Match Locock drew with David Graham Baird, this time missing an early tactical opportunity.

15… Bf3! 16. gxf3 Qh3 was winning, but instead he played 15… g5 and after 16. f3 White was safe, the game eventually resulted in a draw after a long double rook ending.

Locock’s opponent in the 1899 Cable Match was Sidney Paine Johnston.

Here’s the game.

Locock missed a win: 28. Qxe6+ Kh8 29. Rd8!, while Johnston in turn missed 29… Qh6!

There was quite a lot of comment in the press about Locock’s miss. Here’s the Morning Post (Antony Guest):

Morning Post 13 March 1899

Stung by this criticism, he decided it was time to give up competitive over-the-board chess. He kept his word, too. In 1901 it was announced that he’d compete in the Kent Congress, but he changed his mind. This was indeed the end of that part of his chess career.

 

Many years later he recalled:

Charles Dealtry Locock (27-ix-1872 13-v-1946)

What, then, should we make of Charles Dealtry Locock (pictured above) as a chess player? He was clearly a very creative and imaginative tactician, who, at his best, was of master standard for his day (EdoChess rates him as 2346 in 1892), but his constant quest for brilliancy led him to play the occasional silly move, and he sometimes missed tactical opportunities, particularly if they involved more unusual ideas. He also seemed to find endings rather boring. But perhaps, judging from the quote above, he wasn’t temperamentally suited to competitive chess, finding the pressure of the ticking clock too stressful. I can empathise. Fortunately for him, there were other ways to fuel his chess addiction.

You’ll find out more in my next two Minor Pieces.

Sources and Acknowledgements

Many thanks, first of all, to Brian Denman for kindly sending me his extensive file of Locock games.

Locock’s memoirs, quoted in several places above, and written with a combination of arrogance, false modesty and facetiousness, were published in the January 1933 issue of the British Chess Magazine.

Other sources:

ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Wikipedia
BritBase (John Saunders)
Chess Notes (Edward Winter)
ChessBase 17/MegaBase 2023/Stockfish 16.1
chessgames.com (Locock here)
EdoChess (Rod Edwards: Locock here)
Correspondence Chess in Britain and Ireland 1824-1987 and British Chess Literature to 1914, both written by Tim Harding and published by McFarland & Company Inc.

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Minor Pieces 73: Alexander Spink Beaumont

The Surrey County Chess Association runs a bewildering number of competitions of various types, one reason being that they’ve chosen to commemorate some of their long-serving administrators through trophies in their memory.

The main league itself currently has five divisions. The first division is the Surrey Trophy, which dates all the way back to the 1883-84 season, while the second division, the Beaumont Cup, was instigated twelve years later, in the 1895-96 season.

I’m sure you’d like to know, as I did, more about Mr Beaumont. Well, he wasn’t Mr Beaumont at all, but Captain Alexander Spink Beaumont, Alex to his friends. It’s a long story.

He was born in Manchester on 24 June 1843 into a family with military connections. Beaumont was in fact his paternal grandmother’s surname but his father used his mother’s surname.  Spink was the surname of his Aunt Charlotte’s husband.

He served in the 23rd Foot Regiment of the Royal Welch Fusiliers, reaching the rank of Captain in 1871, when the census found him at Fort Hubberstone in Pembrokeshire. Perhaps it was there that he met Caroline Savage (née Griffies-Williams), a widow more than 20 years older than him, who came from a family of wealthy Welsh landowners, one of whose properties was in Tenby, not all that far from Milford Haven. She was born in 1822 but often claimed to be much younger.

The following year Alex and Caroline married in London, both giving an address in Inverness Terrace, north of Hyde Park, which was by now the Beaumont family residence. He then resigned his commission and, round about 1878, they settled at 2 Crescent Road, South Norwood, in South London. This is now Warminster Road, running by the railway line north of Norwood Junction Station. There are a few grand houses at what is now the high numbered end of the road, and I’d guess one of those was their residence.

As a gentleman of independent means, he had plenty of time to pursue his two passions in life: chess and music. He was a composer as well as a player in both fields, but was also a gifted organiser and promoter.  Beaumont wasted little time joining Croydon Chess Club, the first ‘modern’ chess club in Surrey. In 1880 he had a problem published in the local paper. You’ll find the solutions to all the problems at the end of this article.

Problem 1: #3 Croydon Guardian 28 August 1880

The 1881 census found Alex and Caroline living in South Norwood along with his unmarried brother Richard, a Major in the Royal Engineers, four domestic servants, one male and three female, and a nurse.

Later the same year he had some important news.

Croydon Guardian and Surrey County Gazette 19 November 1881

Beaumont was nothing if not ambitious for the new club.

Norwood News 17 December 1881

Zukertort and Blackburne were, according to EdoChess, the second and third strongest players in the world behind the inactive Steinitz at the time. Attracting them to visit a new club in a London suburb was quite a coup. Regular simultaneous displays, both blindfold and sighted, by professional players would become a regular feature of the South Norwood Chess Club.

it wasn’t long before Blackburne visited, and Zukertort was there as well, acting as teller.

Croydon Guardian and Surrey County Gazette 11 February 1882

You’ll also note the name of Leonard Percy Rees, the most influential English chess organiser of his day, involved with the establishment of everything we now know and love, from the Surrey County Chess Association through to FIDE. I really ought to write about him at some point.

During this period he was very active on the composing front. One of his problems even took first prize in a local competition.

Problem 2: #2 1st Prize Croydon Guardian 1882

He was now being published nationally as well as locally.

Problem 3: #3 The Chess Monthly June 1882

This three-mover shouldn’t be too challenging for you.

Problem 4: #3 The Field 19 August 1882

Meanwhile, South Norwood were playing friendly matches against their local rivals from Croydon. There was also talk of an international tournament in London the following year, and Beaumont was the first to make a financial contribution.

By the autumn of 1883 chess in Surrey was moving rapidly towards the thriving county association we see today, thanks to the likes of Joseph Steele, Leonard Rees and Alexander Beaumont, who was elected a vice-president.

Morning Post 17 September 1883

By now the President of the Surrey County Chess Association, the ‘genial and hospitable’ Captain Beaumont’s chess get-togethers were becoming grander by the year, in 1885 attracting about ‘150 gentlemen’.

Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News 12 December 1885

At the same time, along with involvement in the British Chess Club, he was also organising musical events. Here, his two interests were reported in adjacent articles.

Norwood News 09 October 1886

The name of Walter Willson Cobbett, one of his regular musical collaborators, may not be familiar to you, but it certainly is to me.

Although he was not composing so many problems, he was becoming more involved in composing music, and, from 1890 onwards his compositions were being published by Charles Woolhouse in Regent Street.

The Graphic 22 March 1890

Look who else Woolhouse was publishing: our old friend (and my cousin’s father-in-law) W Noel Johnson, whom you might have met here. One online source suggests that Woolhouse was a pseudonym for Beaumont, but that doesn’t appear to be the case: there really was a music publisher of that name.

Percy Victor Sharman, the dedicatee of this work, was a young violinist living in Norwood.

The family doesn’t appear in the 1891 census: it looks like their side of the road might have been missed by mistake.

That year there was good news for South Norwood when they won the Surrey Trophy for the first time. They would go on to win it again in the following three seasons.

Norwood News 12 December 1891

Some of the guests are notable. Captain Lindesay Beaumont was Alex’s younger brother (his older brother Richard had died in 1884). Rudolf Loman was a Dutch chess master and organist. Edward Markwick was a lawyer whom you’ll meet again later in this article.

In December 1893 Beaumont’s portrait appeared in The Chess Monthly.

In January 1894 (or perhaps late December) South Norwood Chess Club ran another of their popular simuls, this time with Richard Teichmann as the guest. He played 18 games, losing one game and drawing two, one of them against Captain Beaumont. This was described in the local press as “a good example of (Beaumont)’s bold and energetic play. (As always, click on any move for a pop-up window.)

His counter-gambit worked well and he missed a simple opportunity to win a piece in the opening.

In 1895 he presented a trophy – yes, the Beaumont Cup – to be competed for by some of the smaller Surrey clubs further out from Central London. My great predecessors at Richmond won it in its second year. Beaumont’s old club, South Norwood, were among the five clubs taking part in the 2023-24 edition.

Captain and Mrs Beaumont were by no means always at home. They spent a lot of time on the continent, partly for health reasons, partly because they enjoyed travelling and partly because they owned property abroad, including an Italian villa.

At various times they visited, as well as Italy, France, Hungary and perhaps Malta. In 1896 the Captain turned up in Nuremberg to watch the international chess tournament there (his friends Blackburne and Teichmann were taking part, but no match for Lasker), and found himself taking part in a concert.

Westminster Gazette 10 August 1896

Adolph Brodsky was one of the leading violinists of his day, giving the first performance of Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto. There’s something about his chess career here, but my article about him is no longer available. I don’t think he’d have consented for any pianist who wasn’t extremely proficient to accompany him.

On 30 October 1897 he was back in Surrey, losing to his old friend Leonard Rees in a match between South Norwood and Redhill.

This time he chose a different variation of the Scandinavian Defence, but without success.

In January 1898 Beaumont was abroad again, this time in Florence. He was proud of the conclusion of this game, where his third move forced mate in 4.

He couldn’t have imagined that, a century and a quarter later, we’d have machines in our pockets telling us immediately that 1. Rf7 would have been mate in 5.

In March 1898 the Streatham News started a chess column, and Captain Beaumont provided the first problem.

Problem 5: #2 Streatham News 26 March 1898

A few weeks later he submitted a problem composed by his late brother Lieutenant-Colonel Richard Henry Beaumont Beaumont (yes, there were two Beaumonts). I haven’t been able to find any other problems composed by Richard, or any more information about his chess career. However, I have managed to find his sword, which was auctioned in 2012, here.

Problem 6: #3 Streatham News 7 May 1898

By that autumn there was talk of running another major international tournament in London the following year. Beaumont, of course, was quickly in with a donation and was appointed to the organising committee led by his friend Sir George Newnes. This was the tournament where Francis Lee might have played on the board later acquired by Leonard Grasty.

On 26 November there was a visit from the Ladies’ Chess Club. The ever genial Captain was on hand to host the event.



Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News 03 December 1898

I’d imaging the top two boards were honorary encounters. Lady Thomas was the mother of Sir George. Prussian born coffee merchant Frank Gustavus Naumann, drawing with his wife in interests of marital harmony, would later become the first President of the British Chess Federation, and later still lose his life on the Lusitania.

Here’s the top board encounter: the protagonists had been friends for many years. Black stood little chance after losing material in the opening.

There was more on the music elsewhere.

Streatham News 03 December 1898

Coincidentally, as I write this I’ve just returned from a piano recital at which the Verdi-Liszt Rigoletto paraphrase was also played.

William Yeates Hurlstone is of considerable interest. A composer of exceptional talent, Beaumont supported him financially after the early death of his father, but he sadly died at the age of only 30. Much of his music has been recorded: there’s a YouTube playlist here.

Violinist William J Read would, in 1912, give the first performance of the violin concerto of another tragically short-lived South London composer, Samuel Coleridge-Taylor.

On 5th January 1901 Captain Beaumont organised an even bigger chess event at Crystal Palace. This merited a major feature in the following month’s British Chess Magazine (online here).




The 1901 census found him at home with his wife and four servants: a valet, a parlourmaid, a cook and a housemaid. But now his health was starting to fail and his wife was approaching her 80s. He was often unable to attend chess events, either because he was unwell or because he was travelling somewhere with a more agreeable climate. This seems, as we also saw with Francis Joseph Lee, to have been standard medical advice in those days.

A couple of years later a clergyman, Albert William Gibbs, who had been born in 1870, gave up his curacy to move in with them as a companion and carer.

Captain Beaumont had one last gift for British Chess. In 1904 the British Chess Federation was formed, with Frank Naumann as the first President and Leonard Rees as the first Secretary. Naumann presented the trophy for the British Championship itself, while Beaumont donated that for the British Ladies Championship. “A very elegant silver rose bowl on Elizabethan scroll-work, enriched with chess emblems”, made by Messrs Fattorini and Sons of Bradford, the first winner was Miss Kate Belinda Finn, with a commanding score of 10½/11.

Caroline Beaumont died in 1907, and in 1908 the Captain was advised by his doctor to move, as the London clay on which his house was built wasn’t good for his health. He soon found a new residence built on gravel three miles to the east, in Beckenham.

This rather splendid photograph shows his chauffeur Walter Goldsack at the steering wheel with Albert Gibbs in the passenger seat. The identity of the other passenger is unknown. It was posted on a family tree by Mark Beaumont, great great grandson of Alexander’s brother Lindesay. I’m advised by Dr Upham, an expert on the subject, that the car is undoubtedly American, so I guess it would have been quite expensive.

In the 1911 census, Alexander and Albert (described as a ‘visitor’) were living there, along with a cook-housekeeper, a parlourmaid and a housemaid. We’re additionally informed that the house had 14 rooms, including the kitchen but excluding the bathroom.

The following winter he travelled south in search of better weather.

Norwood News 02 March 1912

But that was to be his last journey. He died on 4 September 1913, at the age of 70.

The obituaries were effusive.

Beckenham Journal 06 September 1913

“A man of splendid disposition, a generous friend, and a great lover of animals and children.”

Norwood News 06 September 1913

One of the obituaries published this game as a sample of his play, without, unfortunately, giving any indication of when, where or against whom it was played.

Here’s his probate record.

This is round about £8.3 million today. Probate was granted to his nephew (and closest relation), his companion, to whom he bequeathed £400 plus an annuity of the same amount, and his solicitor.

Captain Alexander Spink Beaumont appears to have been, in every respect, an admirable fellow, much loved and respected by everyone who knew him, either through chess or through music.

It seems only right that his name should still be remembered by Surrey chess players today, more than a century after his death.

And yet, there was another side to him as well.

Let me take you back 40 years, to 11 September 1873. Alexander Spink Beaumont, recently retired from the army and recently married, is living in Norton House, one of his wife’s family properties, in the seaside resort of Tenby, Pembrokeshire. He invites a 14 year old local lad named George Lyons, the son of a boatman working in the coastguard service, to his house, and, if you believe George’s account, invites him upstairs. He asks the boy if he can keep a secret, attempts to perform an act so disgusting that it cannot be mentioned in the press, gives him three shillings and sixpence, and then takes him down to the garden. George, quite correctly and courageously, goes home and tells his mother. His parents summon the authorities and, the following evening, his father returns the money to Captain Beaumont in the presence of a witness. On 3 October the allegation goes before the magistrates. Beaumont’s domestic staff are called as witnesses and deny that anything untoward could possibly have happened. Nevertheless, the magistrates decide there is a case to answer (‘making an assault upon George Lyons, with intent to commit an abominable crime’) and send the captain to trial.

The following February Beaumont appeared before the Pembrokeshire Spring Assizes. The judge considered the evidence improbable and contradictory and instructed the jury to dismiss the case, which they duly did.

Well, I wasn’t there so I don’t know for certain, but young George’s account seems fairly convincing to me. I guess the judge felt that a gentleman couldn’t possibly have committed such an act. Then, as now, if you’re rich or famous you can get away with almost anything. Perhaps it served as a warning to him as there’s no evidence that he ever did anything of that nature again.

Let’s now move forward a few years, to 1881, the year in which an ambitious young publisher named George Newnes started a general interest weekly magazine called Tit-Bits. The magazine proved highly successful,  Newnes, a chess enthusiast, made a lot of money and went on to sponsor, amongst much else, the Anglo-American Cable Matches.

A few years later, a young journalist named Alfred Harmsworth submitted some articles to Newnes for publication, soon deciding that he could make more money by starting his own magazine. In 1888 he started a weekly called Answers, providing answers to a wide range of questions submitted by readers or just made up. A friend of his father, Edward Markwick (yes, you’ve met him earlier in this article), joined the venture, and he persuaded his friend – yes, Alexander Spink Beaumont, to provide financial support. Adrian Addison’s gossipy history of the Daily Mail, Mail Men, suggests that some thought Beaumont may have had ‘an unrequited homosexual motive in getting behind the pretty young journalist’.

At first, the Beaumonts and Harmsworth were the best of friends, but in 1891 a bitter argument between them ensued and eventually they sold their shares in his company. There’s much in Reginald Pound’s biography Northcliffe, which can be read online (although the OCR is poor) here. Caroline, who seems to have been the dominant partner, is described as ‘charmingly uncommon’. Meanwhile, in 1896 Alfred Harmsworth and his brother Harold launched the Daily Mail, becoming, as a result, rich and famous.

Years later, in 1905, the year of the establishment of Associated Newspapers, the case flared up again.

Cheltenham Chronicle 14 October 1905

It looks as if the Beaumonts, jealous of the success of the Daily Mail, were trying to get half a million pounds (about 76 million today) back from the shares they sold 14 years earlier. Harmsworth put in a counter suit accusing the papers who published this report of libel, and the whole affair was quietly dropped. Very strange.

What, then, should we make of Captain Alexander Spink Beaumont? it seems to me highly likely that he was gay at a time when same-sex relationships were illegal. Should we feel sorry for him, or, looking at the allegations of George Lyons, revile him? Or perhaps we should just remember his services to the game of chess, as a player and problemist, but most of all as an administrator, promotor and populariser of his – and our – favourite game.

One final thing, there’s a thread on a military badges forum here from a collector who has miniature portrait lockets, acquired separately, of Alexander and his older brother Richard. A rather wonderful thing to have.

He’s not the only Alexander to have given his name to a Surrey chess trophy, but that’s something for another time. I have other stories to tell first. Join me again soon for another Minor Piece.

Sources and Acknowedgements:

ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Wikipedia
Yet Another Chess Problem Database
MESON problem database (Brian Stephenson)
Internet Archive (archive.org)
chessgames.com
Movers and Takers, and various blog posts by Martin Smith
EdoChess (Rod Edwards)
Surrey County Chess Association website
Other online sources linked to in the text

 

Problem solutions (click on any move to play them through):

Problem 1:

Problem 2:

Problem 3:

Problem 4:

Problem 5:

Problem 6:

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Re-Engineering The Chess Classics: A Silicon Reappraisal of Thirty-Five Classic Games

From the publisher:

“Matthew Sadler is the world’s greatest expert in computer chess – and what it brings to us humans in new insights. In this book, the authors have unleashed the collective power of Leela, Komodo and Stockfish to look at 35 classic games played by fan favourites such as Boris Spassky, Mikhail Tal, Bent Larsen and Bobby Fischer. The authors have re-engineered a wonderful collection of classic games. Their findings illustrate the richness and beauty of chess. But they have also generated dozens of positional chess lessons that will help every club player and expert to improve their game.”

From the back cover:

“Are you ready for new strategic insights about thirty-five of the most fascinating and complex chess games ever played by World Champions and other top grandmasters? Grandmaster Matthew Sadler and renowned chess writer Steve Giddins take a fresh look at some classic games ranging from Anderssen-Dufresne, played in 1852, to Botvinnik-Bronstein (1951) and Geller-Euwe (1953). They unleashed the collective power of Leela, Komodo and Stockfish to help us humans understand what happened in games of fan favourites such as Boris Spassky, Mikhail Tal, Bent Larsen and Bobby Fischer.

“The first chess engines improved our appreciation of the classic games by pointing out the tactical mistakes in the original, contemporary game notes, But the expertise of Matthew Sadler is to uncover the positional course of a game with the help of the second generation of chess engines that emerged after 2018.

“This book will change your perception of these games’ strategic and technical patterns. You will, for example, learn to appreciate and understand a classic Capablanca endgame. And a classic Petrosian exchange sacrifice. And a winning, and then losing, king-hunt endgame between Spassky and Tal. You will see how Larsen already understood the strength of the h-pawn march far before AlphaZero’s revelation. The engines offer new strategic ideas and plans that human players have yet to consider. Even ‘the best even anti-King’s Indian player’, Viktor Korchnoi, would be amazed by the engine’s unique ideas about White’s breakthroughs on the queenside.

The most instructive games are often those which are more strategic and technical. Using modern engines, the authors have re-engineered a wonderful collection of classic games, generating dozens of positional chess lessons that will help every club player and expert improve their game.”

About the authors:
Matthew Sadler (1974) is a Grandmaster and a former British Champion. He has been writing the famous Sadler on Books column for New In Chess magazine for many years. With his co-author Natasha Regan, Sadler twice won the prestigious English Chess Federation Book of the Year Award. In 2016 for Chess for Life and in 2019 for their worldwide bestseller Game Changer: AlphaZero’s Groundbreaking Chess Strategies and the Promise of AI.

GM Matthew Sadler
GM Matthew Sadler

Steve Giddins is a FIDE Master from England, and a highly experienced chess writer and journalist. He compiled and edited The New In Chess Book of Chess Improvement, the bestselling anthology of master classes from New In Chess magazine.

FM Steve Giddins
FM Steve Giddins

What we have here is a collection of 35 games annotated in depth using the latest technology. In their introduction the authors mention 40 games, and Matthew, in his technical note, refers to Korchnoi – Van Wely (Game 34) as Game 39. It seems, then, that five games were removed at the last minute to save space and keep the cost of the book down.

The games all predate the modern computer age, dating from Anderssen – Dufresne (the Evergreen Game) in 1852 to Portisch – Chiburdanidze in 1998. All the World Champions up to Karpov with the exception of Smyslov are featured. It’s noticeable that five of the games feature at least one female player.

It’s a lovely (to use Matthew’s favourite word) collection as well. We have some wild tactical games as well as strategic and technical masterpieces, and many games with both elements. While some will be perhaps over-familiar there will be others you probably haven’t seen before.

What the authors have done is subjected their chosen games to extensive computer analysis, playing engine v engine matches (mostly involving versions of Stockfish, Leela and Komodo) from critical positions in an attempt to discover the objective truth about at what point the winner reached a decisive advantage. Some of these games have been included in the notes, indicated by a vertical line to the left of the column, so that you can easily skip them if you don’t want to play them through. You can see how this works by referring to the sample pages here.

One game that interested me was Znosko-Borovsky – Alekhine (Paris 1933).

Ever since the days of Capablanca, there has been a tendency to assume that a small advantage somehow automatically leads to a win, in the hands of a great technical master such as Capablanca or Karpov.

If you’re familiar (as you should be) with Alekhine’s best games collections, you may recall that in this position he formed a six-point plan which would by force lead to a winning position.

By this point Alekhine had completed his plan, reaching a position where his king is more active and his rook can infiltrate via the open a-file. Znosko-Borovsky erred here by playing 33. c4?, after which he was definitely losing, but the engine games where White remained passive with something like Be1 were all drawn.

Of course you have to factor in the human element as well. The position was easier for Black to play, and the black pieces were handled by a player of extraordinary ability, but one of the lessons you learn from this book is how many positions that appear bad can be defended successfully.

A game I really enjoyed was that between two future World Champions, Spassky and Tal, from the final round of the 1958 Soviet Championship. Spassky, playing white, had to win to guarantee qualification for the Interzonal later that year. A rook ending was reached in which both players promoted. Spassky started chasing Tal’s king round the board, but, tragically for him, blundered away first the win and then the draw, and found himself out of the world championship cycle. As you know, Tal went on to win first the Interzonal, and then the Candidates before taking the title off Botvinnik (the 6th game from this match also features here).

The analysis of the queen and rook ending provided by the authors here is some of the most extraordinary I’ve seen. If, like me, you find positions with major pieces on the board and both kings in danger extremely scary you’ll want to see this.

Here’s the complete game, without annotations. Click on any move to play it through.

The Korchnoi-Van Wely game mentioned above (Antwerp 1997) reached this typical Mar del Plata King’s Indian position.

Korchnoi played 17. a6, and suggested that, instead of the game continuation of bxa6, 17… b6 18. cxb6 cxb6 should have been played.

The engines disagree, thinking that White is a lot better in that variation, and continuing 19. Nb4, Nc6, Na4, with Nxa7 and Nxb6 to follow.

“So many things about this game were new, unexpected and instructive for me, and so many things are now memorable for me too”,  says Matthew in his technical note.

It’s a fascinating book, I think you’ll appreciate, which will be of interest to most chess players. Stronger players in particular will find a lot to learn from the games demonstrated here as well. The names of the authors, along with that of the publisher, are a guarantee of excellence, and the production is up to their customary high standards.

If, like one prominent UK chess book reviewer, you think pre-computer games should be left as they are rather than taken apart like this, you should perhaps turn away. I’m also not sure how many readers will actually play through the engine v engine games. I certainly haven’t done so, and, from a purely personal perspective, would have preferred rather fewer of them in the book, with perhaps a download available so that I could play through them on my computer at my leisure. This might have made room for the mysteriously missing five games.

I do have one other problem, which probably won’t matter to you, but does to me, but the authors fail the Yates test. His first name was plain Fred, not Frederick as given in the book.

The short final chapter sums up what you can learn from the engines:

1. Avoid passive pieces!
2. Grab space!
3. Use your rook’s pawns!
4. Small advantages don’t always win!
5. Use the whole board!
6. Be an absolute tactical genius, who never misses anything!!

Read this book, learn these lessons, and perhaps you too will be able to play as well as Stockfish!

Highly recommended if you like the concept of the book (I’d suggest you look at the sample page first). I’d be more than happy to see a second volume.

Richard James, Twickenham 2nd May 2024

Richard James
. Richard James

Book Details:

  • Paperback: 440 pages
  • Publisher: New In Chess (31 May 2023)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10:9083311260
  • ISBN-13:978-9083311265
  • Product Dimensions: 17.12 x 2.64 x 22.83 cm

Official web site of New in Chess.

Re-Engineering The Chess Classics: A Silicon Reappraisal of Thirty-Five Classic Games, FM Steve Giddins, New in Chess (31 May 2023), ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-9083311265.
Re-Engineering The Chess Classics: A Silicon Reappraisal of Thirty-Five Classic Games, FM Steve Giddins, New in Chess (31 May 2023), ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-9083311265.
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Minor Pieces 70: Francis Joseph Lee (2)

Last time we left London chess professional Francis Joseph Lee as the calendar turned from 1899 into 1900.

He was finally selected for the Anglo-American Cable Match that year, being assigned to Board 2 where he took the white pieces against one of his London 1899 opponents, Jackson Whipps Showalter. Standing worse much of the way he managed to escape into a somewhat fortunate draw.

This was the critical position, with Black to play his 45th move.

Stockfish tells me Black is winning easily if he goes after the h-pawn, but, in the heat of battle, it’s very tempting to target the dangerous looking a-pawn instead. The game concluded 45… Ra1? 46. Nc4 Rxa4? (Kf6 still offered some winning chances) 47. Nxe5 Kd6 48. Nf3, and the combatants agreed to share the point.

In April Lee took part in an invitation tournament run by the City of London club, where his result was about what he would have expected, although he only managed to beat the three tail-enders.

In this game his knights on the rim were far from dim. (As always, click on any move for a pop-up window.)

A match against Passmore that summer was won by 5 points to 3. In December he finished second to Teichmann in a 5-player tournament at Simpson’s Divan.

In this game he was successful with the London System.

In 1901 Francis Joseph Lee was on tour again, returning to Ireland where he spent a weekend with Irish Nationalist MP and chess addict John Howard Parnell, whose love of chess is mentioned on several occasions in James Joyce’s Ulysses.

Here’s a game from a Dublin simultaneous display.

Lee was also interviewed by the Dublin Evening Herald (16 March 1901).

In April he returned to London where he was placed on Board 3 in the Anglo-American cable match, drawing his game with John Finan Barry. That summer there was another match against Richard Teichmann, which he lost by 5½ to 2½.

Lee continued touring in England into 1902, when he played on Board 4 in the Anglo-American Cable Match. Playing white against Albert Beauregard Hodges, he seemed ill at ease in an IQP position, losing the exchange and, eventually, the game.

Then, in April, there was an announcement.

Eastern Daily Press 02 April 1902

But he had time for an Easter party before he left, having fun with some distinguished friends.

The Hereford Times 05 April 1902

Except that he never reached Australia, instead stopping off in South Africa, where his brother George was living. By June it was reported that he was giving simultaneous displays and playing exhibition games in Cape Town.

This game was played against two of South Africa’s strongest players, Abraham Michael and Max Blieden, playing in consultation.

He then visited Pretoria and Johannesburg, where, in December, he was appointed Chess Editor of the Rand Daily Mail. He seemed well and truly established in a new country of residence.

Falkirk Herald 04 March 1903

Fairly substantial sponsorship for the time and place, I would have thought. Needless to say, he won first prize with a score of 8/9, followed by Blieden on 7½ and Michael on 6½.

In this game his opponent missed a chance to activate his queen on move 31 before ill-advisedly trading queens into a lost bishop ending.

Nice work if you can get it. Organise a tournament, find a sponsor and then, because you’re the strongest player around, win it (the first prize was £55) yourself.

But then:

Northern Whig 11 June 1903

(There are quite a few instances of his being referred to as JF Lee rather than FJ Lee.)

Back in England again, he spent the autumn touring clubs in the south west of the country. In January 1904 he was at the other end of England, in Carlisle, before travelling down to Brighton for a 9-player tournament in February.

Here, he shared second place with 5½/8 with the young German player Paul Saladin Leonhardt, resident in London at the time, a point behind Reginald Pryce Michell.

Here’s his win against Leonhardt.

In March Lee was appointed umpire of the Oxford v Cambridge match, and was called upon to adjudicate an unfinished game when time was called.  Summer was a busy time, with two tournaments to play in.

The City of London club organised an event starting at the end of July featuring many of the top players then resident in England. With the Germans Teichmann and Leonhardt, along with Dutchmen van Vliet and Loman it had quite an international feel to it.

Lee’s score of 9/16 was round about a par result for him.

The great veteran Blackburne opened 1. a3, and Lee was able to build up one of his trademark slow kingside attacks.

He was fortunate to win an exciting game against endgame (and carpet) expert Tattersall.

At this time he liked to transpose from the Exchange Caro-Kann into the Scandinavian by capturing with his queen on d5. It didn’t always work out, but here, against one of the weaker players in the event, it proved effective.

Just a week later, the first British Chess Championships took place in Hastings. Lee was selected for the top section, so had to make another trip down to the Sussex coast.

His result was again what he would have expected. On retrospective ratings he finished below those rated above him, and above those rated below him, but he did have wins against Atkins and Michell to his credit.

In the first round Mackenzie carelessly blundered into a queen sacrifice.

Lee annotated this game for the British Chess Magazine. He commented after Black’s 24th move that Black should have played Qf7, but White’s advantage was probably sufficient to win. Stockfish, as you’ll see, is of a different opinion.

This is the key position from Lee’s game against Atkins. Atkins miscalculated by playing 22… Bxe1? (Qxb7 is only slightly better for White) 23. Bxc8 Rd8 24. Bc5 Qc7 25. Bxe6 and Black resigned as he’s going to end up a piece down.

His win against Michell is well worth looking at.

Later that year, Lee undertook another tour of South West England, but 1905 started quietly. He was selected to take part in the Anglo-American cable match, but this was called off at short notice due to broken cables.

That summer, rather than playing in the British Championship, he took part in his first continental tournament, playing in the Masters B section of a massive event in Barmen, Germany.

His 50% score was again about par for the course, but, typically, he performed as well against the top half as he did against the bottom half. The two most familiar names to you, I guess, would be Spielmann, finishing level with Lee, and Nimzowitsch, who had a poor result. Both were young men who would do much better in future.

His win against Spielmann, using his favourite Caro-Kann Defence (I’m sure Horatio Caro himself would have been delighted) was an excellent game.

His game against the Italian representative was also very typical of his style.

In this game against a German master, though, he was on the wrong side of a spectacular miniature. Sadly, Post would later become the Nazis’ leading chess organiser.

Here, against a Dutch opponent, he escaped from a lost position by sacrificing a rook for a perpetual check.

In the last round he won another good game against the second place finisher.

You’ll see from these games that Lee was capable of producing interesting games from openings which might be considered slow, but not necessarily dull.

By November he was touring in Scotland, announcing that he was planning an extensive tour of the Colonies in the new year.

This time he ended up visiting Trinidad and Venezuela.

Morning Post 21 May 1906

The visit to Trinidad may well have been instigated by the chess-playing Bishop of Trinidad and Tobago, John Francis Welsh. They met eleven times during Lee’s visit, mostly in simuls, with each player winning five games. Here’s one of the Bishop’s wins, in which he opted for the Lesser Bishop’s Gambit (my source names it the Limited Bishop’s Gambit, known in London, apparently as the Circumcised Bishop’s Gambit).

My source suggests Lee resigned in a lost position as 26… Ne3 would have been winning. Stockfish continues 26… Ne3! 27. Ne6! Nxf1 28. Rxf1 Qd7 29. Nxf8 Qxg4+ 30. Qg2 Qxg2+ 31. Kxg2 Rxf8 when Black is a pawn up in the ending but White should probably be able to hold the draw.

Lee had entered the 1906 Ostend megatournament, but was forced to withdraw for health reasons. Some reports suggested he was, for a second time, planning to visit Australia, but was now unable to do so. However, he had recovered in time to take part in the 3rd British Championships, which took place in Shrewsbury that August.

A score of 7/11 was enough for a share of third place: an excellent result considering his recent health problems.

Against Mercer his pet Stonewall/London formation again led to a winning kingside attack.

Here’s another example: it’s striking that even a strong player like Palmer didn’t really understand what was happening and eventually perished down the h-file.

At the prizegiving, both Lee and Blackburne were presented with purses of gold for their services to chess.

In the autumn of 1906 and early 1907 he toured the north of England, Scotland and Ireland, including spending a week with the Edinburgh Ladies Chess Club. By February 1907 he was back in London, taking board 6 against Albert Whiting Fox in the Anglo-American Cable Match, back after a three year absence.

This was a long and well-played draw, but Lee missed an opportunity on his final move.

Fox (Black) had just played 65… Ke5-d5? instead of the correct fxg2. Now Lee missed the chance to play 66. gxf3! which should secure the full point because the pawn ending after 66… Bxf3 is winning.

By May he was well enough to cross the channel to Ostend, where another mammoth tournament was being held. The format was slightly more comprehensible than the previous year. A grandmaster section where six players (Tarrasch, Schlechter, Janowsky, Marshall, Burn and Chigorin) played each other four times, a 30-player all play all master section, three amateur sections and, like the previous year, a Ladies tournament. Lee was placed in the master section, which was reduced to a mere 29 players when Paul Johner withdrew after 7 rounds. Another player, Jacob, withdrew towards the end.

Here’s what happened.

 

Lee’s performance in such a strong field was only slightly disappointing, and he was in poor health again during what must have been a tiring event.

The players castled on opposite sides in this game, and Lee’s attack proved more successful.

This is probably Lee’s best known game, which will be familiar to readers of Nimzowitsch’s My System.

Lee’s opponent in this game was a German master who spent a lot of time in England before the First World War.

Here’s another game you might have seen before. Fred Reinfeld anthologised it in A Treasury of British Chess Masterpieces.

No sooner had he returned from Ostend than he was off on his travels again.

Exeter and Plymouth Gazette 16 July 1907

After spending time in Canada he returned, again visiting the north of England, Scotland and Ireland. His tour continued into the new year, but in May 2008 he returned to tournament play in a small tournament in Sevenoaks, Kent, where he was also called upon to give a simultaneous display.

The top section was split into two sections. Lee played in the A section, which was won by the future Sir George Thomas on 5½/6, two points clear of Lee, Shories and Muller, who shared second place.

He won this game with a stock queen sacrifice, but also missed some earlier tactical opportunities.

Then it was on to the British Championships, held that year in Tunbridge Wells, Kent. Lee’s score of 6/11 was enough for a share of third place in what was, with the exception of Atkins, a closely fought contest.

A mistake in this position against Ward cost him a half point which would have left him, rather than his opponent, in the silver medal position.

In this exciting position 34… c2 might have led to a perpetual check for White, but Lee erred with 34… Qe7?, and had to resign after the beautiful 35. Bf7!.

With his slow style of play, Lee wasn’t noted for winning miniatures in serious play, but here his opponent (whom I really ought to write about sometime) blundered on move 19, resigning two moves later.

His game against Shoosmith reached an unusual ending when Black, in a blocked position, sacrificed two minor pieces for four connected passed pawns. Both players missed chances, but it was Shoosmith who made the final error.

This was a quiet period in Lee’s life – perhaps he had further health problems – but he did visit Bradford in January 1909. Nothing more was heard of him until August when he was back in Yorkshire for the British Championships, held that year in Scarborough.

A score of 5/11 in a strong field was again a more than respectable performance, especially as he was clearly ailing in the second week.

Let’s look at his last three games.

In Round 9 he won a good game against Mackenzie, helped by a blunder on move 38.

In Round 10 he played his favourite Caro-Kann too passively, and Blake, gaining revenge for his defeat the previous year, used his space advantage to engineer a brilliant finish.

In the last round, the fast improving Yates took apart another of his favourite openings, the Stonewall Attack, concluding with an unstoppable Arabian Mate.

Then, just three weeks later:

The Sportsman 14 September 1909
Globe 14 September 1909

“… not one of the world’s really great chess players”. Not very generous for a death notice, I would have thought.

He regularly annotated games for the British Chess Magazine, who had rather more to say.

They might also have been more generous about the premature death of a valued contributor.

Again: “… never regarded in the foremost rank of chess masters…”: harsh but true, I suppose.

The obituary spoke about his gastric trouble, and he had also had lung problems in the past, but his death certificate reveals that neither was his cause of death.

Cerebral Meningitis (is there any other type): to the best of my knowledge indigestion isn’t a symptom.

The Wiener Schachzeitung provided a long and rather more sympathetic obituary.


Not very accurate, though. The 1881 Simpson’s Divan event seems to have been the 1890 event misdated, although there were 19, not 14 players and it was a handicap tournament. It was the short-lived Henry Lee (no relation as far as I know) who played in the London 1883 Vizayanagaram Tournament, not our man Francis Joseph Lee.

The layout could perhaps also have been improved. Swiderski died at the same time (by his own hand) and his obituary was immediately below that of Lee.

Let’s return for a moment to the BCM obituary: “Having, unfortunately, adopted chess as a profession, he sacrificed his imagination for a cramped, slow style of play instead of giving full scope to his chess ability.”

This suggests two reasons why he wasn’t universally popular. He was a professional at a time when professional sportsmen (they always were men in those days) were scorned, and he preferred playing closed rather than open positions.

I consider this rather unfair. Although he played gambits in simuls and informal games, he was very much a player in the modern style, influenced in part by Steinitz. With White he favoured mostly d-pawn openings: the Stonewall and London Systems, often combined, as well as Queen’s Gambits and types of Colle System. With Black he defended against 1. e4 with, at various times, with the French, Caro-Kann and Scandinavian Defences. Understanding of closed positions, although they had been played by the likes of Philidor, La Bourdonnais and Staunton, was still rudimentary compared with today’s grandmasters, but it was the experiments of players like Lee which played an important role in the development of chess ideas.

You’ll also see that, although his games, and those of other similarly inclined players of his day, could descend into meaningless woodshifting, there were also positive ideas, in particular in building up slow kingside attacks. His games were often not short of excitement, but that was more likely to come at move 50 than move 15. I’d put it to you that his obituarist (Isaac McIntyre Brown?) failed to appreciate his games fully.

Of course he had his faults: he was prone to tactical oversights and, against the top players of his day, didn’t always understand what was happening positionally, but he was still in the world’s top 100 players for about 20 years. His fragile health must also have had an impact on his results, and his interview above suggests that he was temperamentally more suited to teaching than playing.

It’s interesting to compare his life with that of a journeyman chess professional today. He was probably never very well off, but he had various sources of revenue: teaching and lecturing, simultaneous displays, exhibition games, writing and journalism, and also sponsorship. An article by Mieses in the August 1941 BCM about former Prime Minister Andrew Bonar Law tells us that he was kindly disposed towards Lee and did a good deal quietly for his professional support. One would imagine that Lee was similarly supported by the likes of JH Parnell and the Bishop of Trinidad and Tobago. In his tours of chess clubs he was seen as being a friendly and courteous opponent.

The Cheltenham Chronicle (13 September 1919), writing just a decade after his death, referred to him as ‘another chess professional, now little remembered’. He’s certainly very little remembered or written about today.

I’d suggest that Francis Joseph Lee is very much worthy of your attention. Here was a man who clearly loved chess, and, despite ill health, devoted more than twenty years to promoting his favourite game throughout the British Isles, and in many other parts of the world as well. While he wasn’t one of the greatest players of his day he also produced some fine chess, along the way experimenting with new openings, some of which are now, a century and a quarter on, now back in fashion.

I hope you’ve enjoyed learning more about his life and looking at some of his games. Do join me in drinking a toast to Francis Joseph Lee, and also join me again soon for some more Minor Pieces.

Sources and references:

ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Archive
Wikipedia
chessgames.com: FJ Lee here
ChessBase/MegaBase 2024
Stockfish 16
EdoChess (Rod Edwards): FJ Lee here
British Chess Magazine (thanks to John Upham)
Wiener Schachzeitung

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Minor Pieces 69: Francis Joseph Lee (1)

If you read anything about chess from the late 1880s through to 1909 you’ll often come across the name of FJ (Francis Joseph) Lee, a regular competitor in both national and international events during that period. He played pretty consistently at about 2350 strength, finishing below the genuine masters, but above the amateurs. Yet he had wins against the likes of Steinitz, Pillsbury, Chigorin, Blackburne, Mason and Atkins to his credit.

Here he is, pictured, I think, in 1893.

A decent player, to be sure, but I’ve seen very little written about him. As he might have used my friend Alastair Armstrong’s chess set when taking part in the 1899 London International Congress, I wanted to discover more about his life and games.

Francis Joseph Lee’s birth was registered in the first quarter of 1858 in Hackney. He was baptised at St Matthias Church, Stoke Newington, on 28 April that year. His father, Francis Goodale Lee’s profession was given as architect: as far as I can tell he was a minor church architect. He was also, although he didn’t play publicly, an enthusiastic chess player. His mother, more exotically, was Rosina Pereira Arnand, the daughter of a wine merchant, about whom I can find out very little. Pereira is a Portuguese name, and Arnand sounds French (perhaps it’s a version of Armand, which really is a French name). Many years later, Francis would tell how he was romantically affected by her tales, and also inherited her musical tastes. He had an older sister, Agnes, and two younger brothers, George and Arthur.

There’s no obvious trace of the family in the 1861 census, but in 1871 Francis and his brother George were recorded at Belmont House, Ramsgate, a boarding school for young gentlemen.

At this point we should perhaps mention a couple of other things. In 1874 a 16 year old named Francis Joseph Lee signed up for four years in the Merchant Navy. In an interview many years later he mentioned going to sea and visiting China, so I’d guess this was him. In 1885 a Francis Joseph Lee married Kat(i)e Elizabeth Jenner in Hackney, divorcing a few years later, but we can tell from the church records that this wasn’t our man – both his age and his father’s name were wrong.

By 1881 Lee was boarding in Hackney and working as a stockbroker’s clerk. He may have been playing chess at Purssell’s room by then, but the first time his name appeared in the press was in 1885 at Simpson’s Divan, losing a game against William Henry Krause Pollock, who gave odds of pawn and move. It must be round about this time that he decided the life of a stockbroker’s clerk was not for him, opting instead for the life of a chess professional. He wasn’t a strong enough player to make much money from tournament play.

He was a relatively late starter at this level, then, and, judging from this 1886 game he favoured the gambit style popular at the time.

As usual, click on any move on any game in this article for a pop-up window.

The following year he beat Pollock 6-1 in an odds match, establishing himself, almost from nowhere, as one of the country’s leading players, and earning an invitation to take part in the 3rd British Chess Association Congress Master Tournament in London in November.

A respectable performance, but it should be pointed out that Zukertort, coming to the end of his life, was in poor health, as, no doubt, was Mason.

Lee won a nice ending against chess journalist Antony Guest.

Here’s a position from his game against Zukertort.

In this position he missed the rather attractive 23… Rd3!, which would have won Zukertort’s queen (if the queen moves to safety there’s Qxh2+!): perhaps his tendency to make tactical errors led him to follow the increasingly popular trend for closed positions, already in evidence in this tournament.

The following year, the British Chess Association Congress took place outside London for the first time, being held in Bradford. It was a pretty strong event as well, as you’ll see.

Lee’s result was slightly disappointing, but he did have the satisfaction of beating Burn and Blackburne.

Blackburne seemed ill at ease against Lee’s French Defence, and Black was able to liquidate into a winning ending.

Burn was also outplayed from a closed position.

In January 1889 Lee played a short match against Gunsberg, drawing two and losing three of the five games.

The 1889 British Chess Association Congress returned to London in 1889, with Bird and Gunsberg sharing first place on 7½/10, two points ahead of the field. Lee finished in the middle on 5/10. Very few games from this event seem to have survived.

We do have this one, though, where White moved his king to the wrong square on move 34.

1890 was a busy year for Lee. He scored his greatest success to date in the spring handicap tournament at Simpson’s Divan, with a score of 16½/18, well ahead of the likes of Bird, Tinsley and Mason.

This game against a Russian master demonstrates how effective he could be with the French Defence.

He spent much of the summer involved in a match against Blackburne, which he lost 5½-8½.

Here’s one of his wins.

Following on from that match he travelled to Manchester, where the 6th British Chess Association Congress took place. This attracted a strong field of 20 players, including Tarrasch, arguably the world’s best player at the time.

Lee’s result was again respectable, finishing about as expected, but taking points off some of the stronger players, while faring less well against some of the weaker players.

I haven’t been able to find the scores of any of his wins from this event, although he certainly should have won with the black pieces against von Scheve.

In this position, instead of playing 38. Bxb7 (equal according to Stockfish), von Scheve tried Rxb7?,  presumably thinking he was either promoting or mating, but he must have missed something. Undaunted, he played on a piece down in the ending, eventually reaching this position, with Lee to play.

Now 62… Rh2+ is mate in 7, but Lee fell for a stalemate trap by playing 62… Rg2? 63. Ra5+ Kf4 64. Rf5+! with a draw. A familiar enough idea now, but it would have been much less familiar back in 1890.

Lee was unhappy with Gunsberg’s annotations of his loss against Mason from this tournament, and attempted to sue him for libel, but the judge (Roland Vaughan Williams, whose nephew, the composer Ralph Vaughan Williams, is one of my musical heroes) refused to allow a prosecution

Northern Whig 06 November 1890

Here’s the paragraph from 20 September:

Evening News (London) 20 September 1890

Both Mason and Lee were unhappy with this, Mason writing to the editor of the newspaper.

Evening News (London) 27 September 1890

You can judge for yourself: here’s the critical position after a lot of rather tedious manoeuvring, with Lee (Black) to play his 71st move.

Stockfish suggests 71… Rc1 72. Kd4 Rd1+ 73. Kc3 Kb7, pointing out that 73… Bxc4, for instance, is also a draw. Lee preferred 71… Bxc4? 72. Rxc4 Rf1? (another poor move: Re1+ might have offered some drawing chances) 73. Rc6+, when Mason obtained two passed pawns, soon winning the game.

What do you think? Was Lee tired after a long game and a long tournament? Was the position too hard for him? Was he not trying too hard as there was nothing at stake for him, as Gunsberg thought, or did he deliberately throw the game, as he thought Gunsberg implied?

At the same time, Lee was branching out as a writer, taking over the regular chess column in the Hereford Times in September 1890.

In between tournaments he was travelling throughout the British Isles giving simultaneous displays, often being billed as The Young Master.

Belfast News-Letter 18 December 1890

Here he is in Belfast in December 1890, feted for his courteous manner as well as his rapid and brilliant play. He had also, in September that year, taken over the chess column in the Hereford Times, which he continued until 1893.

1891 was a quiet year, with no British Chess Association congress for him to take part in. There was a summer tournament at Simpson’s Divan, where he performed disappointingly, finishing in 9th place out of 10. The London based Dutch players Loman and van Vliet took the first two prizes. In August he arranged a match against up and coming German star Emanuel Lasker, drawing the first game, but, with the second game adjourned (Lasker was winning) was obliged to concede the match due to ill health. This may well have been the reason for his poor performance in the earlier tournament.

In the 1891 census he was lodging at 30 Manchester Street (now Argyle Street), St Pancras, giving his occupation as Chess Player and Editor (the word Author was added in) and his place of birth, curiously, as Ingatestone, Essex.

The 1892 edition of the British Chess Association Congress took place in London in March, with Lasker taking part, and, as expected, finishing comfortably ahead of the field. Lee’s 50% score was about what he would have expected.

Here’s his loss against Lasker, who sacrificed some pawns to get to his opponent’s king.

His win against Bird was a lively affair which won the brilliancy prize.

Next stop was Belfast, for a quadrangular tournament in which he was rather off form, finishing well behind his three rivals. According to a contemporary report he was unwell throughout the event. (One of the games, a featureless draw between Bird and Lee, is missing from MegaBase, but is readily available elsewhere.)

He remained in Ireland for several months after this event, visiting clubs and giving simultaneous displays.

This game, undated in my source, against Mary Rudge, the leading lady chess player of the time,  may well have been played in one of these simuls.

In June he had some important news to announce.

Morning Post 19 June 1893

He crossed the Atlantic with his friends Gossip and Jasnogrodsky, but the intended tournament fell through. However, an impromptu tournament was organised as a partial replacement, attracting a lot of press coverage.

According to the Brooklyn Daily Standard Union:

The English player is about 40 years of age, of a German blocky build, which indicates the possession of physical strength to stand the strain of severe chess playing.

(He was actually 35, and I don’t think you’d get away nowadays with ‘German blocky build’, whatever that might mean.)

Reproducing the portrait (probably the one above) from the New York Sun, it added:

… makes him appear stouter than he really is; otherwise the likeness is good.

The Baltimore News provided brief and amusing descriptions of the participants, reprinted here in an English newspaper.

Nottinghamshire Guardian 04 November 1893

I think all chess columns should be headed by a picture of chess playing kittens. Don’t you?

Here, Lee performed well, sharing third place with two of the top American players, Showalter and Delmar, just behind Albin (of countergambit fame), but they were no match for Lasker, who posted a 100% score.

His Irish opponent in this game essayed the Pirc Defence long before it became popular and acquired a name.

Lee is standing fourth from the left in this group photograph from the tournament.

Lee remained in the Americas for two years after this event. In February and March he played a series of exhibition games against some of Cuba’s leading players in Havana.

Later in the year he returned to North America, touring extensively, giving simuls and playing exhibition games.

At the beginning of 1895 The Chess Player’s Mentor was finally published, offering, according to the advertisements, ‘an easy introduction for beginners’, along with ‘analyses of the most popular openings for more advanced players &c’.

Dundee Advertiser 17 January 1895

The review in the Dundee Advertiser is notable for providing an early example of promoting chess for children for its claimed extrinsic benefits.

It was later republished together with three other books solely written by Gossip. You can read it online here via the Hathi Trust digital library.

Lee returned to England in July that year, but didn’t enter the great Hastings tournament. Perhaps he needed a break after his exertions.

Morning Post 08 July 1895

I think it was Albin, rather than Albion, against whom real estate man George C Farnsworth (1852-1896) scored 1½/2

Here’s Lee’s win. Not all that interesting: White chose a poor 5th move and never really stood a chance.

This game shows Farnsworth in a much better light.

He spent the latter part of 1895 touring chess clubs throughout the country, but most of 1896 in London, where he was appointed secretary to the committee organising a tournament at Simpson’s Divan. His administrative role didn’t stop him achieving an excellent result, sharing second place with van Vliet on 8½/11, just half a  point behind the winner, Richard Teichmann, who was based in London at the time.

Not many games from this event were published. Here, Dutch organist Rudolf Loman sacrificed a piece unsoundly.

His displays in London included a visit to the Ladies’ Chess Club.

Hampstead & Highgate Express 11 July 1896

In December, Lee played a short match against Richard Falkland Fenton, winning two games, drawing two and losing one.

1897 was another quiet year spent in London, the only serious chess activity being a match during the summer against enthusiastic veteran Henry Bird, which he won by 8 points to 5.

1898 was even quieter, with just a summer match against Teichmann, which he lost 3½ to 5½. Lee suffered from gastric problems all his life: perhaps this was one reason for his relative lack of activity during this period.

There had been some talk in 1897, and again in 1899, about why Lee wasn’t selected for the Anglo-American Cable Matches. Perhaps the selectors preferred to choose amateurs rather than professionals. Here’s an article from 1899.

Nottinghamshire Guardian 25 February 1899

Finally, a few months later, he had an opportunity to prove himself at the top level. You will know, if you read my previous Minor Piece, about the great London International Chess Tournament of 1899. Lee was originally selected for the subsidiary single-round event, but when Horatio Caro (of Caro-Kann fame) withdrew at the last minute on health grounds he was promoted to the top section.

As you’ll see he found it hard going, but he did record wins against Steinitz and Chigorin, as well as two victories against Mason.

Let’s have a look at a few of his games from this event.

Playing his favourite Stonewall formation against Mason, his pressure on the half-open g-file was crowned with a sacrificial attack.

Lee’s win against Steinitz was also a Stonewall, but here he was rather lucky.

Steinitz had had the better of the opening, but Lee had managed to reach a drawn ending. If Black just waits with his knight White can make no progress, but the ailing former champion, close to the end of his life, seriously misjudged the position, playing 49… Ke4??, after which Lee’s e-pawn wasn’t for stopping.

The following day, black against Chigorin, he faced his opponent’s favourite anti-French move 2. Qe2, gaining a space advantage and giving up the exchange for a passed pawn, and winning one of his finest games.

At his best, Lee was a formidable positional player who could also, when the occasion demanded, display tactical ability. Someone who has, you might think, been unfairly neglected in chess literature.

As the remainder of the year – and the century, seems to have been uneventful for him, this must be a good place to break off.

Join me again soon to discover what the 1900s had in store for Francis Joseph Lee.

Sources and references:

ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Archive
Wikipedia
chessgames.com: FJ Lee here
ChessBase/MegaBase 2024
Stockfish 16
EdoChess (Rod Edwards): FJ Lee here
Two articles on chess.com from Neil Blackburn (simaginfan):
Lee and Gossip. Three Brilliancies. – Chess.com
Belfast 1892. A Chess Tournament and A Grumpy Bird! – Chess.com
Zan Chess: article on New York 1893 here

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Minor Pieces 68: Leonard Francis Grasty

Let me take you back 125 years, to the great London International Chess Tournament of 1899.

Most of the world’s strongest players were there: the first two World Champions, Steinitz and Lasker, Pillsbury and Chigorin, Maroczy and Schlechter, Janowski and Blackburne.

Here’s the cross-table.

There was also a second section, won by Marshall, ahead of the likes of Marco and Mieses, along with some local amateurs.

Two brilliancy prizes were awarded: to Lasker for his win against Steinitz and to Blackburne for his win against Lasker.

Here they are: click on any move for a pop-up window.

If you’re running such a prestigious event you’ll want some shiny new chess sets. The chipped and stained old pieces at the back of your equipment cupboard won’t do for the likes of Lasker and Steinitz.

But have you ever wondered what happens to those shiny new sets once they’ve been put away and the players have gone home?

It appears that, at some point after the end of the tournament, some sort of competition was held. I have no idea what the nature of the competition was, and how many sets were on offer. What I do know (or believe) is that one of the sets was won by a certain William Grasty.

William came from a working class family: his birth was registered in the first quarter of 1878 in Lambeth. His father, a stoker in a factory, died in 1884, and, by the 1891 census, young William was living with his aunt in Southwark. I don’t at the moment know whether he acquired this board immediately after the 1899 tournament, but by 1901 he was moving up in the world, living in lodgings in Wood Green and working as a commercial clerk.

He married Arabella Edith Attwood in 1904, but, tragically, their first child, William Arthur, born in 1909, died before reaching his first birthday. By now the family had settled in Lewisham, and the 1911 census found him still working as a commercial clerk. Later that year, another son, named Leonard Francis, was born. Soon afterwards the family moved to Islington, where a daughter, Muriel Florence, was born in 1913.

By 1921 the family had left London, moving to Southsea, where William was working for Weingarten Bros Ltd, Corset Manufacturers as an accountant. As well as William, Arabella and their children, the household included two boarders: the sisters(?) Dorothy and Elizabeth Kilby, both schoolteachers. At the time, Portsmouth was known as the corset capital of the world (who knew?) and they’re still made there now. Many of my relations were employed manufacturing corsets in Market Harborough, but that’s a story for another time.

There’s no evidence that William ever played competitive chess, but his son certainly did. I guess they played at home using the board from the 1899 tournament, trying to emulate the play of Lasker and his colleagues. Between 1928 and 1931, Leonard was a student at Portsmouth Municipal College, playing on top board for their chess team. They started off with friendly matches against Portsmouth Chess Club before graduating to the second division of the local league.

Portsmouth Evening News 12 January 1931

In 1931 Leonard graduated with a BA General Degree with Honours and a First-Class Distinction in Maths awarded by London University and took a job as a Customs and Excise Officer. Like so many others before and since, on finishing his studies he stopped playing competitive chess.

We next meet him in Manchester in 1937, where he married a local girl, May Taylor Shaw, the daughter of a sheet metal worker.

By the time of the 1939 Register, Leonard and May, along, perhaps, with their chess set, had moved back south, now living in Stanmore, North London. They were blessed with three children, Barbara (1937), Robert (Bob) (1939) and Victor (Vic) (1943).

At some point the family moved down to Bognor Regis, on the West Sussex coast, not all that far from Portsmouth. It was there, in 1948, that Leonard returned to competitive chess, joining the local club. As it happens, the Bognor Regis Observer up as far as 1959 is available online. During this period they ran a regular column featuring local chess news, contributed by the pseudonymous King’s Pawn and The Rook, so we have a lot of information about his chess career over the next decade or so.

You’ll see that he soon established himself as one of their stronger players, although it must be said that Bognor were no match for the likes of Brighton and Hastings. What they did have, though, was some very effective and ambitious administrators. You might notice, for example, the name of Joseph Norman Lomax, who would do much to put his home town on the chess map.

Bognor Regis Observer 07 May 1949

Here they are, in 1949, inviting a very distinguished guest to give a simultaneous display.

In fact Harry Golombek took on 33 (or 34, depending on your choice of newspaper) opponents, losing two games and drawing six, including his game against Grasty. He stayed on overnight, the following day playing another simul against five teams of consultants, drawing two and losing one, against Grasty and his veteran partner Stephen Arthur Hardstone (1873-1952), a retired civil service engineer.

Golombek would give a number of simultaneous displays at Bognor over the next few years. Here’s a photo of one of them.

The games we have for Leonard Grasty in this period, sadly, don’t show him in a very good light. If he’d captured the bishop on move 13 in this game he’d have been fine rather than having to resign two moves later.

And here, in an equal position, he found one of the worst moves on the board, allowing a mate in one.

In 1952, the local organisers had a big idea.

Bognor Regis Observer 12 January 1952

In fact the first congress would be held the following year, run by Joseph Norman Lomax (later, after his second marriage he’d style himself Norman Fishlock-Lomax), continuing very successfully until 1969.

Later that year, Leonard Francis Grasty was the subject of a profile in the local paper.

Bognor Regis Observer 15 November 1952

Was his speed of play responsible for the careless mistakes he seems to have made? Perhaps someone should have advised him to slow down.

In 1954 Bognor Regis Chess Club put on a display of chess trophies in a local shop window for National Chess Week.

Bognor Regis Observer 19 February 1954

There you have it. Leonard had inherited the chess set which his father had won perhaps more than half a century earlier.

Here it is.

It didn’t help him in this game against one of Brighton’s young stars, where he had to resign after only nine moves, having fallen for a rather well known opening trap. The earliest example in MegaBase dates from 1908, but the variation itself dates back to Blackburne – Paulsen (Vienna 1882), where Black won after 8… Ng4.

The following year’s National Chess Week also featured the display of chess trophies, along with a Teenagers v Old Stagers match in which Leonard and his older son Robert were on opposite sides.

Bognor Regis Observer 25 February 1955

A few months later, Bob took part in the Southern Counties Junior Championship, held as part of the 3rd Bognor Regis Congress, scoring 3/7. The other competitors included Michael Lipton, who would later achieve fame as a problemist. He returned the following year, when he managed half a point more, which was half a point less than the score achieved by Stewart Reuben.

Leonard continued his chess activity in Bognor throughout the 1950s.

Here’s a photograph from a club prizegiving from 1958, where Leonard shared the club championship with local journalist Alan Lawrence Ayriss (1934-2006), who, as it happens, has a very distant family connection with me (the 2nd cousin 2x removed of the husband of my 3rd cousin 2x removed). He’s holding a Bell book: The Art of Checkmate (Renaud & Kahn), which was published in that edition in 1955. The book is still within the family: an inscription inside reads “BOGNOR REGIS CHESS CLUB  Presented to L.F. Grasty RUNNER UP LIGHTNING TOURNAMENT 1958. We can also see copies of Edward Lasker’s Chess for Fun and Chess for Blood in a 1952 edition and Reinfeld’s Improving Your Chess (1954).

This, captioned 1958, shows Bob seated second left, perhaps from the same event as the previous photo.

By December 1959 Leonard had been joined by his younger son, Victor, who was up for selection for a match against Worthing. But, at that point, the online run of the Bognor Regis Observer comes to an end, so I have, at the moment, little information about what happened next.

We do have a photograph from 1961 where he’s playing a friendly game against William Clifford Kendal (1902-1988).

The News (Portsmouth) 09 June 1961

In this game from 1966, he chose an unsuccessful plan in the early middle game, allowing his opponent to bring off a smart finish.

It’s unfortunate that the games of Leonard Grasty currently available have, so far, been rather unimpressive losses with the black pieces. Perhaps he played much better with white.

We do have a draw, from what must have been towards the end of his chess career, against a very strong opponent in Geoffrey James (no relation, but he played for my club, Richmond, for a few years in the 1970s). He was perhaps a bit lucky, though, as Geoffrey uncharacteristically missed a few winning chances.

This was a family steeped in chess: they counted Harry Golombek as a family friend. Bob and Vic’s sister Barbara recalls (although the Guardian journalist doesn’t) once going on a date with Leonard Barden. Barbara later married a man named Michael Armstrong. Their son Alastair, born in 1967, continued the family chess playing tradition into a fourth generation.

Leonard must have been very proud of his grandson’s success. He died in 1981, when Alastair was still quite young, but he still has many very fond memories of his grandfather, who encouraged his early interest in chess.

It was only right, then, that it was Alastair who would eventually inherit his great grandfather’s London 1899 chess set.

Here ‘s Alastair again, 13 years later, winning the Main A Section of the Hastings Congress (the Main A wasn’t the main event at the congress, but never mind).

Shortly afterwards, Alastair moved abroad, but, more than 30 years on, he’s now returned to England, deciding to take up chess again, and by chance living just round the corner from the Chess Palace.

He still has the 1899 chess set and board, and provided the photographs above. His son, though, shows little interest in the game.

So there you have it: the story of a chess set and board first played on, perhaps, by Emanuel Lasker, spanning four generations of the same family and 125 years.

Join me again soon when we’ll return to London in 1899.

 

Sources and Acknowledgements:

ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
ChessBase/Stockfish 16 for game analysis
Alastair Armstrong and the Grasty family, for the story and photographs
Brian Denman for providing some of Leonard Grasty’s games

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The Chess Heroes Books

Are you rated below 1500?

Do you have friends who are rated below 1500?

Are any members of your chess club rated below 1500?

Do you have any students rated  below 1500?

If so, you’ll really want to take a look at my Chess Heroes books: a unique series of volumes taking players from learning the basics through to club standard and beyond. There’s nothing else like these books on the market. They’re based on 50 years experience teaching chess, using my private RJCC database of almost 17000 games played at this level. Every word and every position is there for a reason.

No gimmicks. No short cuts. No idle promises. Just simple no-nonsense instruction providing all the knowledge and skills you need, along with hard work and seriousness of purpose, to succeed at chess.

This is the starter book (0-500 range) explaining what a game of chess is really about. If you just want to learn the basics, this is for you.

If you want to take the game further, these four books, designed to be read in parallel, are what you require.

Written for players of about 500-1000 strength, if you’ve understood everything here you’ll be able to go along to your local chess club and play some social games without being totally outclassed. You might even be able to play lower level competitive chess if you want.

By now you may be eager to learn more. If you’re around 1000-1500 level, these books will help you make further progress. The Puzzles book is exactly what it says on the cover, while the Games book uses the ‘How Good is Your Chess’ format where you play through the games guessing the next move. I’ll soon be starting work on the second books for publication towards the end of 2024.

You can order them from Amazon here. You’ll see that I also have free downloads available if you want to have a look  before you buy, or if, for instance, you want to print off some of the puzzle pages for your own or your students’ use.

I’d recommend you also read this blog post explaining some of the theory behind my teaching and writing.

Please do take a look, and if you like what you see, support me by purchases and 5* reviews!

 

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Minor Pieces 66: Reginald Charles Noel-Johnson (2)

We left Reginald Charles Noel-Johnson last time, having just married Jane Ann Richards and joined the RAF on war service.

Before I move on, my thanks to Brian Denman, who has sent me a whole pile of Noel-Johnson’s games. I’ll add a few earlier scores here: as always, click on any move for a pop-up window.

Even in 1924, as an inexperienced 20-year-old, he was capable of playing strong positional chess, being particularly severe here against his opponent’s Dutch Defence, and not being distracted by the magnificent view from the roof of Australia House. William Henry Watts was, apart from being a civil servant, a prominent chess journalist and author.

In this county match game from 1936 he won quickly against his Essex opponent’s rather unsophisticated opening.

In another county match game he took a notable scalp when one of England’s finest amateurs, perhaps in time trouble, lost the plot.

Finally, for the moment, another game against Yeeles, which might, as Brian suggests, have been played in a club match, but also fits in with the 1937 county championship final. He was lucky here, as Yeeles stood better before giving up the exchange for no obvious reason: perhaps again a time trouble blunder.

Returning to his life story, Reginald and Jane had two children, Patricia, born in Chester in 1942, and Christopher (who sadly died in 2010), born in Surrey in 1946. During this period his work for the RAF took him to India, and it was only in 1947 that he was able to resume his chess career.

He wasted no time in picking up where he left off.

Tonbridge Free Press 30 May 1947

His final game was a textbook example of strong positional play, his pressure on his opponent’s backward c-pawn eventually leading to material gain. Click on any move of any game in this article for a pop-up window.

Although he’d been living in central London since at least 1929, he maintained his loyalty to Kent, playing in county matches as well as the county championships.

This game from a match between West/Mid Kent and Metropolitan Kent had a curious conclusion. White thought he had no defence to Black’s threats, but in fact he had a slight advantage.

In 1949 he won the Kent Championship for the eighth time. In this game from the first round  he again demonstrated strong positional play, winning material, but returning it for two far advanced connected passed pawns in the centre.

In this county match game he missed a tactical opportunity, but his more active pieces still made life difficult for his Sussex opponent.

Noel-Johnson also remained loyal to Lewisham. In this National Club Championship game his international opponent blundered, allowing a smart finish.

Facing another international opponent in a London League match, he gave a textbook example of how to play against the Dutch Stonewall, taking advantage of Black’s weak dark squares and undeveloped queen’s bishop to set up a decisive pin.

This game bears testimony to Reginald’s considerable endgame skills.

1951 marked the centenary of the Great Exhibition in London, which included the world’s first international chess tournament, and it was only right that the 1951 Festival of Britain should also include some chess. Reginald Noel-Johnson, by now a respected organiser and populariser of chess as well as a very strong player, was involved, and television cameras were present.

Marylebone Mercury 11 May 1951

In case you’re unfamiliar with some of the personalities involved: David Farrar CEM Joad Eamonn Andrews Sir Ronald Storrs

(Sir Ronald founded the first chess club in Palestine in 1918, hoping to unite Arabs, Jews and Christians stationed in Jerusalem, and to help promote peace and understanding. It didn’t work out: it closed within a year due to tensions between Arabs and Jews.)

In 1951 Noel-Johnson organised a London Transport team who travelled to Hastings Chess Club.

Hastings & St. Leonards Observer 11 August 1951

The home team won 21½-8½, but König and Noel-Johnson, on the top two boards, against Winser and Waterman.

(Chess was a very big thing amongst London Busmen at the time, a story I should perhaps investigate further.)

In October 1952 the National Chess Centre re-opened, just across the road in Oxford Street from the previous centre which had been burnt down during the war. Noel-Johnson was very much involved in its re-establishment. He was also honoured by being appointed President of the Southern Counties Chess Union in 1952-53.

Here’s another game, this one from the 1952 county championship, resulting in a minor piece ending.

This game was played on top board in a county match at the National Chess Centre. It looks like White miscalculated or misjudged the position round about move 20.

The 1953 National Chess Centre Championship gave Reginald another chance to demonstrate his positional mastery.

In 1954 the British Chess Federation published its second (and first full) grading list. Reginald Noel-Johnson was there on 3a (209-216, or about 2300 Elo), along with Alfred Lenton, and several of his other erstwhile opponents. At the age of 50, he seemed to be playing as well as ever.

But at that point he became a lot less active. By the 1955 grading list he’d slipped to 4a (193-200, approaching 2200 Elo).

One reason might have been that he was now becoming active in the musical world as a composer. I’d imagine that his work at Ricordi’s (he’d moved from Chappell’s) involved, on occasion, being commissioned to write incidental music.

Back in 1933 he’d been writing songs in the style of his father, his setting of Weep you no more, sad fountains, an anonymous Elizabethan verse set by everyone from John Dowland to Roger Quilter, being admired for its combination of freshness and charm. “The harmonic scheme in the accompaniment is never dull and the melody has a quiet flow and a beautiful ending, suitable for soprano or tenor”, according to the West Middlesex Gazette (27 May 1933).

Unfortunately, I can’t find a recording of this or any of his other music, but I recently heard Ivor Gurney’s setting in a recital. I rather suspect Noel-Johnson’s setting was closer to that of Quilter.

Judge for yourself here.

In 1952 Noel-Johnson had composed the music for Enid Blyton’s Noddy Song Book, and these were used for a children’s play produced over the Christmas holidays in December 1954. No, I wasn’t in the audience.

It was repeated the following year, when the cast list included ‘Ronald’ Corbett as Mr Whiskers and Jinky, while older children could watch the Famous Five in the evening.

In 1953 an ice pantomime, Sinbad the Sailor (pantomimes on ice were very big in those days) included a ballet based on Morphy’s Opera House Game, with music by Noel-Johnson.

There was a new job for him in 1958, when he was appointed general manager of Ascherberg, Hopwood and Crew.

You might have expected that Reginald’s chess career had come to an end, but in 1974 he unexpectedly turned up playing for King’s Lynn, in Norfolk. He was rapidly appointed match captain, and was involved in a ‘chess happening’ forming part of the King’s Lynn Festival.

Lynn News & Advertiser 30 July 1974

In 1975 he reappeared on the grading list at 190, seemingly having retained his strength into his 70s, despite a 20 year long absence from the board.

He didn’t appear in the next two grading lists, but returned in 1978, now living in Worthing, on the south coast. That year he was down to 181, but by 1982 he was up to 194, and, after a decline the following year, back to 192 in 1984. This would be about 2150 – pretty impressive for someone in his late seventies.

In this game he renewed acquaintance with an old Kent rival, now promoted to the rank of Canon within the Church of England, who left it far too late to develop his queen’s knight.

Here, he faced a Cannon rather than a Canon. John Cannon was a strong Sussex player who, I believe, claimed to hold a record for the number of county matches he played.

Noel-Johnson also started playing in tournaments again, favouring those in Devon, often playing in Paignton and occasionally in Torquay. In 1981, despite a last round defeat, he shared first place in the top section at Paignton.

Birmingham Mail 14 September 1981

In one of the key games from this event he scored the full point against one of the other joint winners, who went wrong on his sealed move.

In 1981 he changed his allegiance from Worthing to Rustington: I wonder if this was under the influence of his old friend Eric Smith. Perhaps it was he who had enticed him to the delights of Sussex in the first place.

In this club championship game from 1981 he switched from his usual 1… e5 to the Sicilian, scoring a quick victory. He clearly knew his opponent well.

Brian Denman tells me that in 1982 Noel-Johnson reached the Sussex final, and, if he had won, he would have been the oldest champion. However, he lost both games against Feliks Kwiatkowski. Here are a few more victories from Brian’s files.

The last game I have is a loss, from 1987.

In the final years of his career his grade, inevitably, fell into decline, last appearing in the grading list on 159 in 1991, at the age of 87.
Reginald never lost his interest in chess, though, as my friend Guy Holloway recollects.
Noel-Johnson’s daughter, Patricia, was the very first school secretary at The Harrodian School. In those days I ran the chess club and, one day (around 1995), 90-year old Reginald came in to play a simultaneous against a large group of ten-year old boys and girls. He was in sparking good form and gave the youngsters their first taste of ‘playing against a champion’.
After the simul, on returning to Worthing, he sent Guy a postcard, written partly in French, reproduced here with Guy’s permissioin.

Reginald Charles Noel-Johnson died on 27 December 2000 at the great age of 96, his death being registered in Windsor and Maidenhead.

Two of his brothers also had interesting stories to tell. Dennis, who, you may recall, changed his surname to Cullum, achieved fame as an athletics coach, specialising in hammer throwing. You can read more about him here.

Reginald’s youngest brother, George Douglas, had been a member of the Territorial Army (Artists’ Rifles) in 1937, but in 1939, with war imminent, joined the RAF, flying Hurricanes in Greece and eventually rising to the rank of Squadron Leader. He retired from the services in 1956.

War often brings people from very different backgrounds together, and so it was with George Douglas Noel Noel-Johnson, who, in Heliopolis in 1945, married a secretary in the WAAF named Catherine Lucy Gunn (she was now spelling her name Katharine Lucille).

Warwick & Warwickshire Advertiser 06 July 1945

They would have three children, Clive, Mark and Sally, and, while her husband died relatively young in 1972, she would live on until 2018, reaching the age of 98. I must show my appreciation here to Clive and Sally for generously sharing so much family information through their online trees.

Her parents had met while working in a mental health hospital, and Catherine, the youngest of four children, lost her father to pneumonia when she was only 2. Her mother, Edith Mary White, was the daughter of a groom, and the granddaughter of an agricultural labourer from near Warwick. Her grandfather, Thomas White, had a cousin, Sarah, who married Robert Padbury. Robert had many granddaughters, one of whom, Florence, was, in 1921, working as a housekeeper to a farmer whose wife was in Hatton Lunatic Asylum. She was no doubt unaware that her third cousin Edith had been working there ten years earlier. Florence had an affair with her employer: their daughter was my mother. This makes Reginald Charles Noel-Johnson, if my tree is correct, the brother-in-law of my 4th cousin once removed. And, you might recall from the first article, he played on two occasions against my father’s kinsman Alfred Lenton.

Noel-Johnson and Lenton, despite their very different backgrounds, had a lot in common. They were both mainly positional players, Noel-Johnson playing in classical style, as opposed to Lenton’s hypermodern approach. Lenton was slightly stronger in the 1930s, playing for England on several occasions, but Noel-Johnson retained much more of his strength into old age. Both took a break in middle age, returning to chess in their retirement, and both remaining active in the chess world into their tenth decade.

We should certainly thank Reginald Charles Noel-Johnson for his services to chess, both as a player and an administrator, over more than 70 years. I believe it’s important for the whole chess community to keep the memory of players such as him alive.

 

Sources & Acknowledgements:

ancestry.co.uk (family trees of Clive Noel-Johnson and Sally (Noel-Johnson) Giddings)
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Wikipedia
BritBase (John Saunders – thanks also for his RCNJ games collection)
ChessBase/Stockfish 16
Brian Denman (thanks for his RCNJ games collection)
Guy Holloway
YouTube

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