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Save as PDFCategory Archives: 2024
The Scheveningen Sicilian Revisited A Complete Repertoire for the Sicilian Player
From the Publisher, Thinkers Publishing:
“The Sicilian Scheveningen Defense is a highly respected and flexible variation of the Sicilian Defense, characterized by the pawn structure Black adopts with pawns on e6 and d6. It arises after the moves 1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 d6 3. d4 cxd4 4. Nxd4 Nf6 5. Nc3 e6. This setup allows Black to maintain a solid central presence while keeping options open for dynamic counterplay.”
About the Author:
“Grandmaster Daniel Gormally is currently living in Alnwick, Northumberland, England.
Danny has been a chess professional for over twenty years, in which time he has played in many tournaments both in the U.K. and abroad. He has represented England in the European team championships and the Olympiad. He has taken a high placing in the British chess championships and on several occasions has been placed in a tie for second. He is also the two times winner of the English rapid play championships.
In 2005 he scored his final Grandmaster norm in a tournament in Gibraltar, where he scored a 2693 performance. In that tournament he played against several world-class grandmasters, including Nakamura, Aronian, Sutovsky and Dreev, and only lost one game.
He is also the author of several well-received chess books, including “A Year in the Chess World” and “Mating the Castled King”, one of the few western chess books in recent years to be translated into Chinese.
As an author he is known for his laid-back and humorous style, this is his fourth book for Thinkers Publishing.”
This book is divided into eighteen chapters:
Chapter 1 – Tabiyas
Chapter 2 – The Chess Detective
Chapter 3 – A historical perspective
Chapter 4 – Kasparov vs Anand 1995
Chapter 5 – Engine analysis
Chapter 6 – Training games vs the engine
Chapter 7 – Chef’s recommendations
Chapter 8 – Turbo calculation
Chapter 9 – Defusing the most dangerous lines
Chapter 10 – Evaluations
Chapter 11 – Scheveningen Problems
Chapter 12 – Online adventures in the Scheveningen
Chapter 13 – 6.Bg5
Chapter 14 – Keres vs Nakamura
Chapter 15 – Delving deeper
Chapter 16 – Pawn breaks/structures
Chapter 17 – Tips for playing the Scheveningen
Chapter 18 – Exercises
The Scheveningen is not a trendy variation but there are a number of elite level players who have been proponents of this Sicilian variation such as Garry Kasparov and the current World Champion Gukesh Dommaraju.
The author, Danny Gormally explains in the Introduction section that “this isn’t your average chess book and I don’t sift through each and every variation and line in the typical way of most openings tomes, partly because I don’t find such opening books particularly enjoyable to read so have no desire to inflict them on the reader either”.
This book is therefore not a theoretical treatise on the trendy theory or otherwise of the Scheveningen Sicilian. There is some theory but there is not a dense thicket of complex, variations chapter after chapter. The author aims to explain the typical ideas, plans and pawn structures in this opening: in this he largely succeeds.
Danny also gives general advice on how to study an opening and on how to improve at chess. He obviously advocates the use of strong chess engines but stresses that over reliance on engine preparation without understanding, learning how to calculate and evaluate is harmful.
Chapter 1
This is a short chapter that introduces a couple of key positions in the Scheveningen: here is one from the Classical variation:
The modern way to play this position is 9…e5 which equalises: the explanation given by the author is logical and illuminating. The older, more traditional move 9…Bd7 is a perfectly acceptable alternative which is covered in Chapter 7.
In the chapter summary, the author gives some sensible advice:
“play some training games from that position, perhaps against the computer or against a training partner. Study the position on Chessbase or some other kind of program…. That way you get a feel for the most familiar and most important positions in that opening variation. But it must be said, though, that there is no substitute for practical experience…. you analyse those games afterwards – the trail-and-error advantage of that is quite huge.”
Chapter 2
This section is a key chapter where the author gives general advice on studying positions:
- Why has my opponent played that move?
- What possible plans do I have in this position?
- If I concretely play A, how is my opponent going to respond?
Seven exciting and didactic games from the Scheveningen are analysed with an emphasis on the opening/early middlegame plans for both sides. Five of these are in the Classical line, one in the English Attack, one in the dangerous f4/Be3/Qf3 or g4 line.
Classical Variation
This position is discussed at length with the plans for both sides considered. The game continued 14…Rad8 15. Kh1 Bc6 16.Bd3 Qd7
This is a typical position from the Classical variation. White played the tempting 17.Qh3?! eyeing 18.e5 but black has a typical counter 17…e5! (“you should always have the central breaks on your radar”) and Black is slightly better and went on to win a good positional game in the ending.
Here is another typical tabiya from the Classical variation.
White played 17.Nd1!? which is the computer’s top suggestion. The plan and its resulting ideas and positions are discussed by the author which is instructive. 17…Bd8! was played and is a deft manoeuvre neutralising white’s attacking ideas.
Here Black played the tempting 17…d5? (instead of the patient 17…Bd8) 18.Bxf6! Bxf6 19.e5 with a winning game: buy the book to see the denouement.
English Attack
Black has just responded 9…d5 after White’s queenside castling.
From the author: “A typical liberating central break, and it is my belief that this is the most reliable equaliser in this variation.”
Danny discusses the two major branches here:
A. 10.exd5 Nxd5! 11.Nxd5 Qxd5 12.c4 Qd6!=
B. 10.Qe1 e5! 11.Nxc6 bxc6 12.exd5
Here is another dangerous White system that can be defanged with a little detective work:
White can play two very aggressive moves which are dealt with in the same way:
8.Qf3 e5!
9.Nf5!? (9.Nb3?! Bg4! 10. Qf2 d5! opening up the game as white has lost time with his queen) 9…Bxf5 (removing a piece that has moved 3 times) 10.exf5 Nbd7= Black has excellent development with Rc8 to follow.
8.g4 e5!
The central strike completely disrupts White’s attacking build-up.
9.Nf5 Bxf5 (removing the dangerous knight that has moved 3 times)
10.gxf5
Superficially, this position looks good for white with the half open g-file, bishop pair and more space: he only needs to play Qf3, 0-0-0 and Rg1 with an excellent position. However, Black is well developed, is to move, and has two excellent plans.
A. 10…Nbd7 11.Qf3 Rc8 (already eyeing up an exchange sacrifice on c3)
B. 10…exf4 11.Bxf4 Qb6! (A lovely disruptive move eyeing the weak dark squares and exploiting White’s lack of development, a typical idea in many openings particularly in the Sicilian) 12.Qd2 Qxb2 13. Rb1 Qa3 unclear
Taking Danny’s general advice here, the reader should analyse this unclear position on their own and evaluate the resulting positions. Use the engine to check your work but don’t use the engine as a crutch all the time which can lead to laziness.
Chapter 3 – A historical perspective
The author puts the opening into its historical context citing Max Euwe as one of the major developers of the Scheveningen. Paul Keres’ 6.g4 is introduced with a crushing win by Keres over Efim Bogoljubov in 1943. Danny restores the Black players’ sanity with a excellent game by Garry Kasparov holding Anatoly Karpov in their first World Championship match in Moscow 1984.
Kasparov played the interesting 8…h5!? and drew an exciting tussle.
Modern theory prefers the immediate central counterattack with 8…d5! which the author recommends.
Chapter 4 – Kasparov vs Anand 1995
This is an historical chapter with games from the Kasparov – Anand match in 1995. All three games covered are high quality encounters including a fine victory by Anand in game 9. The reviewer won’t say anymore as these games are fairly well known and the book covers them well.
Chapter 5 – Engine analysis
This short chapter discusses the pros and cons of using an engine in analysis. Clearly using an engine is a vital tool but “too much dependence on chess engines, as I know from my own experience, can make you lazy and you don’t activate your own thinking processes.”
“It is vital to do your own analysis….”
Four combative tussles are subjected to engine analysis which is illuminating to say the least.
Chapter 6 – Training games vs the engine
Four games are included with the author playing White: two in the Keres attack, 1 in the Sozin and 1 in the English attack.
The last game with the engine defending against the English attack is an excellent counterattacking game.
Chapter 7 – Chef’s recommendations
This is an important chapter where the author gives his recommended lines against White’s most dangerous tries:
- Keres attack
- English attack
- Sozin attack
- Classical variation
I won’t give any more spoilers here: buy the book to find out.
Chapter 8 – Turbo calculation
The author states: “In this chapter I want to test, and hopefully turbo-charge the readers’ calculation. Calculation is so important, and all the better younger players now work on this aspect of the game.”
Six exciting positions are given and the reader is invited to calculate the consequences of a particular move. Here is example 4:
The author asks: is 14…d5 15.exd5 Nb6 good for Black or not ?Calculate and check your answer in the book.
The chapter summary gives some useful concrete tips.
Chapter 9 – Defusing the most dangerous lines
In this chapter the author plays training games with Black against the engine, sees what the engine does to defeat him, then switches colours to see how it manages to defuse these “dangerous” attempts. The Classical and Sozin lines are covered. The importance of move order is also highlighted in certain lines.
Chapter 10 – Evaluations
“So, I would strongly recommend that you spend time checking your games and get into the habit of evaluating positions. If you don’t know how to evaluate positions then what is the point of calculating, as you won’t know what to aim for anyway?”
There are 6 tough positions to evaluate.
Here is the second position:
The solution is in the book.
Chapter 11 – Scheveningen Problems
“In this chapter I am going to pose you problems relating to the course. How sharp are you tactically? Let’s find out! And don’t be concerned if you get a lot of these wrong. I probably would as well. The main thing is not that you get them right, but that it gets you thinking about the opening.”
Here is the last of 11 positions:
Chapter 12 – Online adventures in the Scheveningen
Danny dissects four of his on-line games, three as Black and one as White in the Scheveningen.
The chapter summary is sensible advice.
Chapter 13 6.Bg5
This is an important chapter as 6.Bg5 can lead to transpositions to the Richter-Rauzer or the Najdorf or a hybrid Sicilian.
The reader should examine these games/move orders carefully.
Here is a good example:
1.e4 c5 2.Nf3 e6 3.d4 cxd4 4.Nxd4 Nf6 5.Nc3 d6 6.Bg5 Be7 7.f4 0-0 8.Qf3
8…e5! disrupts White’s attacking build-up
Chapter 14 Keres vs Nakamura
In this chapter, Gormally discusses Nakamura’s approach when facing the Keres Attack. The main theoretical recommendation is this book is 6…h6, but Nakamura plays 6…a6 and b5. This line is very dangerous for Black but just about playable. The chapter summary shines some light: “Computers have shown that most opening lines are defendable, and even though Black is under pressure in this early a6 line against the Keres attack, the counterattacking possibilities are obviously there.”
Chapter 15 – Delving deeper
In this section, the author discusses one of the key lines in the Keres attack. But before analysing two interesting games, Danny gives some general advice.
“Not that it is particularly productive to prepare for hours on end before a chess game, at all. I firmly believe that chess players spend too much time preparing for opponents, and not enough time preparing themselves….. it is clearly responsible to do SOME preparation.”
The line is question occurs after these moves:
1.e4 c5 2.Nf3 e6 3.d4 cxd4 4.Nxd4 Nf6 5.Nc3 e6 6.g4 h6 7.h4 Nc6 8.Rg1 d5!
There are two critical lines:
- 9. exd5
- 9.Bb5
Buy the book to learn more.
Chapter 16 – Pawn breaks/structures
Fourteen excellent examples are given.
Here is the sixth example:
8…?
Chapter 17 – Tips for playing the Scheveningen
This chapter gives some useful general advice on studying openings and preparation. Also included is general advice on improving at chess.
Chapter 18 – Exercises
The book finishes with an excellent set of 25 exercises: find the best move.
Here is exercise 8 (Black to play):
Summary
This is an unusual book in its structure with a pot-pourri of chapters on different topics. It is not a traditional opening survey book which is the book’s strength and its weakness. The book is packed full of good advice on the main variations of the Scheveningen Sicilian concentrating on typical plans; pawn structures; manoeuvres as well as some concrete variations. The book also gives excellent advice on how to study openings generally and on how to improve at chess. The reviewer feels that a really ambitious player would need more details of concrete lines which the author acknowledges and Danny gives advice on how to build up a database of games that would cover all the major theoretical lines.
The reviewer recommends this excellent book.
FM Richard Webb, Basingstoke, Hampshire, 24th December 2024
Book Details :
- Hardcover : 255 pages
- Publisher:Thinkers Publishing; 1st edition (28 Nov. 2024)
- Language: English
- ISBN-10: 9083429059
- ISBN-13: 978-9083429052
- Product Dimensions: 17.27 x 1.78 x 23.88 cm
Official web site of Thinkers Publishing
Save as PDFMinor Pieces 82: Imperial Chess Club (1): Chess on a Liner
I’ve long been intrigued by this match played on board a liner in 1930.
There’s much to be written about the Imperial Club, which played an important part in many aspects of London chess between its foundation in 1911 and the outbreak of the Second World War. It provided a venue for social chess for both Londoners and those from other parts of the British Empire who happened to be passing through, but it was also far more than that. The club was founded by the extraordinary Mrs Arthur Rawson (Ella Frances Bremner): I’ll tell her story, and more of the club’s story in future Minor Pieces.
The list of their players in this match provides a snapshot of their membership, and, more generally, tells us something of the social status of chess in the inter-war years.
Board 1: Sultan Khan (1903-66: Mir, along with Malik, is an erroneous honorific which shouldn’t be considered part of his name) needs no introduction. In this match he could only draw with the little-known W Veitch, although it’s quite likely the result was diplomatic.
Only seven months later he won a Famous Game against none other than Capablanca. For this and all games in this article, click on any move for a pop-up window.
Here he is, on the left, playing against his patron (board 18 in this match).
Board 2: Major Sir Richard Whieldon Barnett (1863-1930) – Irish barrister, sportsman (shooting), volunteer officer and freemason, Irish chess champion 1886-89, Conservative and Unionist MP 1916-29. Most of his constituency now comes under Holborn and St Pancras, represented today by Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer. He died just a few months later, on 30 October 1930, following an operation. You can read an extensive obituary published by the BCM here (scroll down to ‘Barnett’).
Here’s his game from this match, which also looks like a diplomatic draw as he was a pawn up with a probably winning advantage in the final position.
Board 3: Charles Wreford-Brown (1866-1951) – amateur footballer (one of the best of his day, captaining his national team) and cricketer. He didn’t play a lot of competitive chess, but what he did was at a high standard, taking part in the unofficial chess olympiad of 1924 (he lost to Marcel Duchamp in an unlikely encounter between two very different celebrities) and playing in the 1933 British Championship, where he unfortunately had to withdraw for health reasons having won and drawn his first two games. A few years ago I met one of his cousins in a school chess club and was able to show him this game.
Here he is, wearing his England football shirt.
Board 4: Vickerman Henzell Rutherford (1860-1934), politician and doctor. The Imperial Chess Club attracted many politicians, mostly from the Conservative Party, but the splendidly named VH Rutherford was an exception, representing the Liberal Party as an MP before switching allegiance to the Labour Party. The current incarnation of his Brentford constituency, now Brentford and Isleworth, is currently represented by Ruth Cadbury, very distantly related to the Secretary of Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club.
In 1925 Barnett and Rutherford played in the two parallel sections of the First Class tournament at the British Championships in Stratford, both scoring 6/11, suggesting that they were both strong club standard players. EdoChess gives Rutherford’s rating at the time as about 2000. Judge for yourself from this game.
Board 5: Colonel E Marinas: not certain about his identity but there was a Spanish (?) naval officer named Eugenio Marinas around at the time so it might possibly have been him.
Board 6: Edward Harry Church (1867-1947), a pharmaceutical chemist from Cambridge, was a leading light in local chess circles, being President of his club for many years and would later (1938-39) be elected President of the Southern Counties Chess Union. He must have had occasion to spend time in London as well.
Board 7: JG Bennett. I’m uncertain as to the identity of this player. There were two JG Bennetts loosely involved in chess: James George Bennett (1866-1952) was a journalist from Grantham in Lincolnshire: quite a long way from London, but he could have been there on business. There was also a JG Bennett involved in administration and occasionally playing in Kent, perhaps in the Canterbury area, but I haven’t been able to identify him further.
Board 8: Miss Kate (Catherine) Belinda Finn (1864-1932) had been active in Ladies’ chess circles, being a founder member of the Ladies’ Chess Club in 1895, as well as winning the British Ladies’ Championship in 1904 and 1905. For further information see John Saunders here.
She’s on the right here, playing in the 1905 British Ladies Championship.
Board 9: this must be John Goodrich Wemyss Woods (1852-1944), a retired schoolmaster (second master and mathematics teacher at Gresham’s School, Norfolk) and amateur artist. The only other chess reference I can find for him is helping to provide some annotations to a game played by a fellow Imperial member some years earlier.
Here’s one of his paintings.
Board 10: Hon. Arthur James Beresford Lowther (1888-1967) was a barrister who served in the First World War (see here), After the war he became Assistant Commissioner for Kenya (1918-20) and later Aide-de-Camp to the Governor of Southern Rhodesia in 1923. On his return to England he took up competitive chess, finishing runner-up in the 2nd Class tournament in the 1927 British Championships.
Board 11: Miss Alice Elizabeth Hooke (1862-1942), who has featured in earlier Minor Pieces here and here. She was a chess player and organiser, sharing first place in the 1930 and 1932 British Ladies Championships.
Board 12: Mrs Amy Eleanor Wheelwright, née Benskin (1890-1980), another of the strongest lady players of the period, sharing first place in the 1931 British Ladies Championship, and taking the runner-up spot in 1933. Here she lost to the tournament winner, a member of Sir Umar Hayat Khan’s entourage.
Board 13: Rufus Henry Streatfeild Stevenson (1878-1943), later the husband of Vera Menchik and Hon. Secretary of the BCF, was one of the most important figures in British chess in the inter-war years as an administrator and also a promoter of women’s chess. He was also a regular competitive player, winning the Kent championship in 1919: a result which probably flattered him as I suspect the stronger players in the county didn’t take part.
Board 14: James Frederick Chance (1856-1938) came from a prominent family of glass manufacturers in the Black Country but later devoted his life to the study of history. In 1911 he was in Offchurch, near Leamington Spa, visiting his sister Eleanor and her husband, a retired clergyman named William Bedford. They were living next door to the vicarage where James Agar-Ellis employed my great aunt Ada Padbury as a cook. He was a long-standing member of the Imperial Chess Club, serving as president from 1934 until his death. His obituary in the BCM described him as being a chess player of medium strength.
Here he is, in 1935, playing the young Elaine Saunders.
Board 15: Julian Veitch Jameson (1880-1932) came from a family with Irish and Scottish connections as well as links to both India and Kenya. In 1891 he was living in Bowden Hall, Great Bowden, near Market Harborough, where he might, I suppose, have met some of my father’s relations. He later worked as an indigo planter in India. His middle name came from his grandmother Mary Jane Veitch, so he may have been distantly related to Sultan Khan’s opponent. He was active in chess circles for the last few years of his life, scoring 50% in the 2nd Class B section at the 1929 British Championship in Ramsgate, when he was living in Chalfont St Giles, but later moving to Folkestone, where he drew with Yates in a 1931 simul. His son Thomas played cricket for Hampshire.
This photograph from an online family tree shows Julian with a friend.
Board 16: Miss Mary Ann Eliza Andrews (1863-1954) was born on the island of Jersey, but her family later moved to Brighton. Her brother, William Richard Andrews, was a prominent Sussex player. She later worked as a schoolmistress. In 1921 she was living in New Cross, South London, in the same road as Jack Redon and his family, but teaching at Halley Road School in Limehouse, north of the Thames. She only seems to have taken up competitive chess on her retirement, playing in the British Ladies Championship in 1923, 1926, and in 8 consecutive years from 1928 to 1935. Her best scores were 8/11 in 1934, and 7/11 in 1930, 1931 and 1932. In 1928 she shared first place in the 2nd Class B section of the West of England Championships (well ahead of Arthur Lowther), but lost this game to the other joint winner, who was killed by a Japanese sniper in Burma in 1944.
Miss Andrews is the lady wearing what looks like a fur stole centre left, with Lilly Eveling next to her. Lilly’s sister Clara is further along the same row towards the right. If you visit BritBase here you can hover over the faces to identify the names.
Board 17: FH George. I have no information about this player. Seemingly not connected to TH George of Ilford, who would have been on a much higher board. There was a player of that age who lost all his games in a junior tournament in Ramsgate in 1929. There was a Frank Harold George from London (1870-1940) who was, intriguingly, a Comedian in 1911, and working for Harrods as a Clerk in the Counting House in 1921. This might, I suppose, have been him.
Board 18: Major General Nawab Sir Umar Hayat Khan Tiwana (1874-1944) was a soldier of the Indian Empire, one of the largest landholders in the Punjab, and an elected member of the Council of State of India, who had brought Sultan Khan to London and promoted his chess career. He must also have been a reasonably strong player himself.
Board 19: Mrs Latham is something of a mystery. She played in the 1907 Ostend Ladies tournament, then joined the Ladies club in London, moving on, like many of her clubmates, to the Imperial Chess Club, where she played at least up to this match. She can be seen in a photograph of a reception held for Alekhine in 1932, but she was never awarded even an initial, let alone a first name. Can anyone out there help identify her?
Mrs Latham is the lady seated on the left, with Mrs Arthur Rawson next to her. You’ll then spot Vera Menchik and Alekhine, with Sultan Khan on the floor on the right. Other participants on the liner included RHS Stevenson (2nd left top row), C Wreford-Brown (4th left top row), next to him Sir Ernest Graham-Little, and then Sir Umar Hayat Khan. Edward Winter provides the full list of names here (you’ll have to scroll down a bit). Note that A Rutherford is not related to VH Rutherford.
Board 20: Mrs M Healey is another mystery. She played in some tournaments in the late 1920s when she was living in South Croydon, and again in the late 1930s by which time she had moved to Hastings. She won a prize at Hastings in 1938 for the best score by a lady in the Second Class section. It’s not clear whether M was her or her husband’s initial.
Board 21: Arthur Newton Streatfeild (1859-1956) was secretary of the Carlton Club for many years. He doesn’t appear to have been a competitive chess player. A member of a distinguished family (note the spelling) who would therefore have had a family connection with his teammate on Board 13.
Board 22: most likely to be Harry Norman Hunter (1883-1966?), a music salesman/publisher originally from Sunderland. In 1921 he was working for Francis, Day & Hunter: the Hunter comes from the music hall composer and performer Harry Hunter, whose real name was William Henry Jennings, and seems to have had no connection with Harry Norman Hunter. I can’t find any other record of him playing chess.
Board 23: Miss Lilly Eveling (1867-1951) came from a prosperous family of drapers in Kent. She played competitively from 1913 up to the second world war, but with little success, scoring only 1/11 in both her appearances in the British Ladies Championship, in 1930 and 1931. Her sister Clara was also a chess player.
Board 24: Henry Bell (1858-1935) was a banker and financier, rising to become general manager of Lloyds Bank, and also a Director until his retirement in 1924. In that year he unsuccessfully stood for parliament representing the Liberal Party in a by-election for the City of London constituency. He was also the President of the Imperial Chess Club for several years.
Board 25: Sir Thomas William Richardson (1865-1947) was a former civil servant and High Court judge in India, who, on returning to England, was very much involved with promoting the development of municipal housing in Fulham.
Board 26: Mrs Fitzgerald. The full name and dates of this player are currently unknown to me.
Board 27: likely to be Miss Marion Isabella McCombie (1866-1936), the daughter of a quill merchant. I have no further information about her chess.
Board 28: Mrs Yuill The full name and dates of this player are again currently unknown to me.
Board 29: Mrs Ella (Ellen on her birth record) Frances Rawson (née Bremner) (1856-1942) was the founder of the Imperial Chess Club and a promoter of chess for women and girls. Born in Glasgow, she emigrated to New Zealand where she married Arthur Rawson. Her husband died in 1894, and in about 1909 she moved to London, where she founded the Imperial Chess Club. I’ll write more about this in a future Minor Piece. Although purely a social player herself she was a very important figure in London chess in the inter-war years.
Board 30: Florence Mary (Miles-)Bailey (née Hobson) (1866-1952), daughter of a master builder and widow of a stockbroker, who achieved some fame by playing chess on long-distance aeroplane flights (see here). Although some of her games took place at a high level, her standard of play was probably at a relatively low level.
Board 31: Sir Ernest Gordon Graham Graham-Little (1867-1950) was a dermatologist and Independent MP for London University from 1924 to 1950. If he’d stood for election there in 1922 or 1923 he’d have faced the novelist and chess enthusiast HG Wells, who unsuccessfully represented the Labour Party. Although not a strong player himself, Sir Ernest was a great patron of chess who rarely missed an opportunity to support his favourite game.
Board 32: Hon Mildred Dorothea Gibbs (1876-1961), known as Minnie in her family, was a daughter of the 2nd Baron Aldenham, a Conservative politician from a famous banking family.
From a family website: Quartermaster of London Voluntary Aid Detachment No. 30 of the British Red Cross Society, 1910; commandant of No. 116, 1913. Served with Bulgaria Red Cross Society in Kirk Kilisse 1912-13 (decorated by the Queen of Bulgaria). In the Great War, amongst other V.A.D. services in London, was in 1915 successively a Nurse at Westminster V.A.D. Hospital, in charge of a Belgian Refugee Convalescent Hostel, and on Air Raid duty; and, from October 1915 to November 1918, Head of the Posting Department of County of London Branch of the Bulgaria Red Cross Society. Attached to the Westminster Division of the B.R.C.S. October 1919, sometime temporary secretary and vice-chairman, chairman 1926-8. Resigned V.A.D. 1929. ‘Member’ 1918, ‘Officer’ 1919, of the Order of the British Empire. Member of the Church of England National Assembly from 1925.
She’s the girl on the right in this charming family photograph.
You’ll immediately notice a few things about the Imperial team. Most obviously, there are 13 ladies amongst the 32 players, although mostly on the lower boards. They’re all from upper middle class or even minor aristocratic backgrounds. They’re mostly older, with many born back in the 1850s and 1860s. Apart from Sultan Khan, the youngest was Amy Wheelwright, born in 1890.
And here they all are: the players from both teams: you can see a larger version, thanks to Edward Winter, here.
I can add a little about the top three players in Lord Kylsant’s team.
Board 1: William Veitch (1877-1957) was born in Kincardineshire in the East of Scotland, which is where his surname originates. His family moved down to Hampshire, where he played for Southampton and Hampshire in the years before the First World Wat, then moving to the Lewisham area of London, where, in the 1939 Register, he was described as a Ship Owner’s Clerk. Playing on a high board for his club and a lower board for his county, he was a decent above average club standard player.
Board 2: Leslie Alec Seymour Howell (1900-1959: Alec Leslie on his birth record) was a shipping accounts clerk from the Edmonton/Tottenham area of North London, working for the Royal Mail Line. I have no other record of him playing competitive chess, but he was clearly a decent player. Here he is, pictured with his wife, Hilda.
Board 3: David(?) Storrar. Another rather unusual surname, again from the East of Scotland, so it shouldn’t be too hard to track him down. Here we hit a problem. D Storrar from Plaistow was solving chess problems in the Daily News in 1904. There was a D Storrar living in Islington in 1911, born in Perth in 1889, but he worked in banking, not in shipping. There was also a David Storrar on the electoral roll in East Ham (adjacent to Plaistow but some way from Islington) in 1913 and 1915. These three may be all the same person, or two or three different people. The 1911 Islington Storrar is apparently the same person as the David Duncan Storrar who married in Westminster in 1933, and died in Kampala in 1944, having worked for the National Bank of India. We can also pick him up in Aberfeldy, Perthshire, in the Scottish 1921 census, again described as a banker. If this is our man he must have been a ringer. Perhaps the East London 1904/1913/1915 David Storrar is a different, chess-playing, shipping person but I can’t find him on any census records or family trees. Who knows?
As a result of my problems with Mr Storrar, I decided not to go any further down Lord Kylsant’s list. None of the names looks familiar: I presume that, apart from Veitch, who had played competitively 20 years earlier, they were purely social players.
But what of Lord Kylsant himself. I’m sure you want to know more.
He was Owen Cosby Philipps (1863-1937), who had been a Liberal MP from 1906 to 1910, and then, switching allegiance, a Conservative MP between 1916 and 1922. His family also ran a shipping company, and he became involved with the Royal Mail Steam Packet Company, of which he became managing director in 1902. They gradually took control of various other shipping companies, including the Union-Castle Line, whose ship the Llangibby Castle, which had only been launched the previous year, served as the venue for this match.
All was not well with the company, though. In 1928 investigations began looking into financial irregularities, and this match may well have been part of a charm offensive to garner favourable publicity before the trial took place. The nub of the issue seems to have been that they were accused of misleading potential investors about the company’s financial health.
When the trial took place in 1931 Kylsant, despite the efforts of his defence team led by Imperial Chess Club Vice-President Sir John Simon, was found guilty on one charge, and sentenced to a year’s imprisonment, of which he served 10 months in Wormwood Scrubs. Large companies these days get away with far worse crimes.
If you have any corrections or further information about any of the players in this match, especially about those I’ve been unable to identify, please let me know.
There’s a lot more to write about the Imperial Chess Club: there will be further posts going backwards and forwards in time and introducing you to more of their members.
But first, taking a different view of the social function of chess in the inter-war years, there’s a significant anniversary to celebrate later this month.
Join me soon for another Minor Piece.
Sources and Acknowledgements:
ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Wikipedia
BritBase/John Saunders
Chess Notes/Edward Winter
British Chess Magazine
chessgames.com
ChessBase 18/Stockfish 17
Gibbs, Jameson, Howell and Hooke websites/family trees
Kingston Chess Club website
Other sources linked to above
Save as PDF
Remembering IM Adam Hunt (21-x-1980 03-xii-2024)
We remember IM Adam Hunt who passed away on Tuesday, December 3rd 2024 following a nine year battle with cancer.
Adam Ceiriog Hunt was born on Tuesday, October 21st, 1980 in Oxford and his mother’s maiden name was Williams. The UK Number one single was “Woman in Love” by Barbara Streisand. Adam shared his birthday with Kim Kardashian.
(Ceiriog was the bardic name of John Ceiriog Hughes (1832–87)
Adam attended The Cherwell School and The University of Sussex to study general biology.
Adam became an International Master in 2001 and then a FIDE Trainer in 2016. According to Felice and Megabase 2020 his attained his peak FIDE rating of 2466 in January 2008 at the age of 28.
In 2004 Adam was living in Headington, Oxfordshire and in 2007 he moved to Ipswich in Suffolk and was married in 2019. Recently, Adam and his partner became parents to Henry.
As a junior (and together with Harriet) Adam first played for Cowley Chess Club.
Most recently Adam played for 4NCL Blackthorne Russia, prior to that Bettson.com, Midlands Monarchs and Perceptron Youth with Witney being his original team.
He was Director of Chess at Woodbridge School in Suffolk and was the brother of IM Harriet Hunt
With the white pieces is (almost exclusively) an e4 player playing the main line of Ruy Lopez (8.c3) and favouring the Fischer-Sozin against the Najdorf.
As the second player Adam played the Sicilian Najdorf and a 50:50 mixture of the King’s Indian and Grünfeld Defences.
Adam was the brother of IM Harriet Hunt
Save as PDFMinor Pieces 80: Samuel Walter Earnshaw (2)
My first Minor Piece, 3½ years ago, featured the Reverend Samuel Walter Earnshaw, the missing link between Paul Morphy and my great grandmother Jane Houghton.
I promised another article at some point demonstrating some more of his games. It’s more than time I wrote it, so here it is.
Let me take you back first of all to 9 July 1858, when Earnshaw, a young chess addict in his mid twenties in his first ministry, at St Mary’s Church Bromley St Leonards in East London, just south of the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, travelled into town to watch the young American star Paul Morphy in action against Samuel Standidge Boden. He recorded the moves, and, in 1874/5, submitted it for publication in the City of London Chess Magazine. You can read the first volume online here (it’s on page 280, with extensive annotations by Steinitz). The two Samuels became firm friends: I suggested in my previous article that Earnshaw might have been considered Boden’s Mate.
Here’s what Stockfish thinks of the game. Click on any move for a pop-up window.
Boden must have taught Earnshaw this variation, which would become his lifelong pet defence to the King’s Gambit.
The following year, he obtained a second curacy at St Thomas’s Church Birmingham, and, for some years, disappeared from the chess world.
His next job was in the small village of Nether Whitacre, 12 miles or so outside Birmingham, where he baptised several members of my great grandmother Jane Houghton’s family.
By 1865 he’d returned to chess, joining the Birmingham and Edgbaston Chess Club. Here he is, winning their club championship.
He was also submitting many of his games, losses as well as wins, to the Birmingham Journal (editor unknown, appearing irregularly between 17 June 1865 and 26 December 1868, 57 articles in total, according to Tim Harding in British Chess Literature to 1914). One wonders if Earnshaw himself wrote the column, given that it published many of his games and stopped at the point when he left Birmingham.
Let’s look at a few of them.
You can judge from these games that Earnshaw enjoyed attacking chess, being particularly fond of the Evans Gambit.
He was also travelling down to London to play at the capital’s chess haunts, where he was winning games against opponents such as the German endgame expert Josef Kling.
In this game he was successful on the white side of the King’s Gambit.
At this time, matches between clubs were starting to take place. In 1866 he played for Birmingham in a match against Worcester. Although he lost both his games, his team scored a narrow victory.
You’ll spot some interesting names in the Worcester squad. There’s Lord Lyttelton, Lord Lieutenant of Worcestershire and sometime President of the British Chess Association. Then we have the future Sir Walter Parratt, whom you might recall would, a few decades later, play in several Windsor – Twickenham matches.
At some point that year Earnshaw played, as you will have seen in the earlier article, a series of games against Steinitz. It’s uncertain whether these were played in London or in Birmingham. I showed you the games last time, but have now asked Stockfish for its opinion.
Another game between Earnshaw and Steinitz was published in 1879, without any indication of when (except ‘some time ago’) or where it was played. It might, I suppose, have been one of this series.
In the 1866-67 Birmingham Club Championship Earnshaw reached the semi-final, where he was paired against John Halford. After 8 games the scores were level, with three wins apiece and two draws, so lots were drawn, resulting in his opponent proceeding to the final.
Here’s one of his wins.
In April 1867 Earnshaw took part in another match, this time against a combined team from two other clubs.
Lord Lyttelton was again representing the opposing team. I guess he was an honorary member of several clubs. Within a couple of decades exceedingly pleasant meetings between chess clubs would become much more frequent, strengthening the social bonds of friendship between Chess players. Long may they continue.
But then there seems to have been a break in Earnshaw’s chess career. In August 1867, as reported in my previous article, he was involved in a tragic incident, which must have affected him very much. Perhaps as a result, he left Nether Whitacre at the end of the year. His last baptism was in November, and by 22 December a new incumbent had taken over.
And look! There, on the other side, is Maria Howton (Houghton)’s illegitimate son, not, I should add, her first, fathered by a butcher in a neighbouring village, being baptised. Maria was a sister of my great grandmother Jane Houghton. Soon afterwards she’d finally marry, and Henry would take on his step-father’s surname, becoming Henry Tomes.
Earnshaw then took on a chaplaincy in Tremadog in North Wales, before being appointed headmaster of Archbishop Holgate School, Hemsworth, Yorkshire.
With a new job and five young children (born between 1861 and 1870) he must have been too busy to devote much time to chess, but by the mid 1870s he had joined both Sheffield and Leeds Chess Clubs. In 1874 he lost to Blackburne in a Sheffield simul, and in 1877 he was matched against a child prodigy in a friendly game.
Young Master Jackson didn’t exactly become a second Morphy, but his story is one perhaps for another time.
Here’s the game.
At the end of 1876, it appears that Earnshaw’s friend and fellow clergyman George Alcock MacDonnell took over the chess column of the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News. In 1877 Earnshaw returned to the ministry, becoming Rector of Ellough, a tiny village near Beccles in Suffolk, which nevertheless boasted a splendid church. His predecessor there, Richard Aldous Arnold, who had served his few parishioners for more than 60 years, came from the same family as Thomas Arnold of Rugby School and his poet son Matthew.
He now had more time for chess, travelling to London every seventh week to play at Simpson’s and Purssell’s, crossing swords, usually unsuccessfully, with the likes of Gunsberg, Blackburne, Mason and Bird, as well as winning miniatures against fellow amateurs. He would have been able to take the Great Eastern Railway from Beccles to their new Liverpool Street terminus, which had opened in 1874. He sent many of his games to Macdonnell, who was happy to publish them in his magazine column.
He was winning at one point in both these games, but ended up losing.
In the summer of 1878 Earnshaw played what would be his only public tournament, the Counties Chess Association meeting in London, but it didn’t go well for him. He only managed one draw from eight games (one may have been a loss by default) before withdrawing with four rounds still to play.
He threw away a good position again in this game.
The tournament proved controversial in more ways than one. The second class tournament included teenage prodigy Harry Jackson, whose father provoked some anger by interfering in one of his son’s games. Yes, we’ve all known parents like that. But that was a minor incident compared with the participation of the automaton Mephisto (operated by Gunsberg, although this wasn’t known at the time) in the Handicap Tournament confined to amateurs.
A few weeks later, Earnshaw tried a Fried Liver Attack against Mason when Black’s pawn was already on a6. Stockfish, unlike MacDonnell in his annotations, is happy with this, but again White lost the thread, ending up on the wrong end of a brilliancy.
Back in Suffolk, he was doing his bit to promote chess in Beccles.
By 1880 he was even described as a ‘chess celebrity’.
Here are a couple of wins against lower level opposition from this period.
His friend Samuel Boden’s death in January 1882 hit him hard: perhaps this is one reason why, by that time, his games were appearing less often in the press.
But in 1885 he turned up in an inter-club match. The St George’s team included Marmaduke Wyvill, runner-up in the first ever international tournament back in 1851, and formerly Rishi Sunak’s predecessor as MP for Richmond, Yorkshire.
On the other side of the board, you’ll notice George Archer Hooke, who had another half century of competitive chess ahead of him, two boards above Earnshaw, with the splendidly named problemist Edward Nathan Frankenstein sitting between them.
But the next we hear from Samuel Walter Earnshaw, sadly, is from this death record, giving his name as Earnshaw-Wall (Wall was his mother’s maiden name, an affectation used by his son Walter Ethelbert Stacey Earnshaw-Wall .
The cause of death is given as Gout (21 days) and Pericarditis (3 days).
You’ll have read MacDonnell’s warm tribute to his friend in the previous article.
A true and enthusiastic lover of chess, we are told. Not a great player, but a good enough player, and really that’s all that matters. He was, for his day, well booked up, enjoying gambit play and demonstrating strong attacking skills, but all too often he would miscalculate or make careless mistakes and throw away his advantage. But he clearly enjoyed playing, whether against fellow amateurs or against the leading masters of his time. He, and many others like him, over the past 150 years or more, are what chess, in my opinion, is really all about. I’m delighted that my great grandmother and her family had made his acquaintance.
Join me again soon for more Minor Pieces.
Sources and Acknowledgements:
ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Wikipedia
ChessBase 17/Stockfish 17
chessgames.com (Earnshaw here)
Yorkshire Chess History (Steve Mann: Earnshaw here)|
EdoChess (Rod Edwards: Earnshaw here)
British Chess Literature to 1914 (Tim Harding: McFarland 2018)
Steinitz in London (Tim Harding: McFarland 2020)
Other sources referenced and linked to above
Save as PDFMinor 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.
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.
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.
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.
In August 1889 Antony Guest reported some important news. A lady had won the championship of the Bristol and Clifton Chess Club.
“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.
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.
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.
George MacDonnell was particularly scathing about his performance.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
“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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Save as PDFMinor 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.)
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
Save as PDFMinor Pieces (77): James Kistruck
Last time I told you about Charles Dealtry Locock’s pioneering work in promoting chess for girls in the 1930s, and, in particular about his private pupil Elaine Saunders, the first genuine girl chess playing prodigy.
She wasn’t the first girl chess prodigy, though. Back in 1891 9-year-old Lilian Baird was making headlines round the world with her skilfully constructed chess problems. You can read about her in this book, and find out more about her chess problemist mother here.
Even in 1891, Lilian wasn’t the only chess kid in town. An even younger composer, seven-year-old James Kistruck from the Essex seaside town of Clacton on Sea, was being celebrated as far away as New Zealand…
… and Louisville, Kentucky (although he’d apparently moved from Clacton to London).
Here, below, is the first problem: very crude and obvious but just the sort of thing a bright 7-year-old might come up with.
The second problem (the Hackney Mercury for 1891 isn’t available online so I don’t have the exact date) is rather more sophisticated. The key move creates no threat, but prepares three different mates depending on which piece Black moves. I’m sure you can work out the solution for yourself, though.
After the publication of these problems in 1891 nothing more was heard from young master Kistruck. Where did he come from and what happened to him next? I really wanted to find out.
Kistruck (some branches of the family used the variant Kistrick) is a very unusual surname, ideal for a one-name study.
The earliest mention online is of the birth of one Hosea Kistrick in the village of Kirtling, Cambridgeshire (south east of the horse racing town of Newmarket) in 1611. By the late 18th century, and now usually known as Kistruck, they’d migrated east to the villages to the west of Ipswich, Suffolk: Aldham, Elmsett and Offton. Like most of the population outside the big cities at the time, they worked in agriculture. While some of them were humble labourers, one branch had done well for themselves, rising to become farmers. These are the people we need to look at.
Rather confusingly, this family had a lot of sons, all with names beginning with J, and always starting in some order (usually with the father’s name coming first) with James, John and Joseph. The family’s favourite sport was cricket, which must have been confusing for the scorers with so many J Kistrucks in the village team, but some of them also had an interest in chess.
Let me take you back to Thursday 12 February 1862. It was a quiet day at Tollemache Hall, but the peace of the countryside was shattered by the sound of a shotgun and a cry of pain. Farmer Joseph Clarke Kistruck’s gun had accidentally been discharged, shooting him in the thigh. The loss of blood sadly proved fatal.
Although the family must have been reasonably well off, it wasn’t going to be easy for his widow Amelia, left with twelve children to look after, and, using the 19th century equivalent of GoFundMe, a fund was launched to help her, soon raising an impressive amount of money.
The twelve children included five sons and seven daughters, and, as this is, in part, a one-name study, we need to consider the boys. There were Joseph Clarke junior (1843), James (1850), John (1851), Jeremiah (1852) and Josiah Ernest (1861).
It’s the two oldest of the boys, Joseph and James, who, in a small way, made their names in chess.
Joseph Clarke Kistruck junior moved to Ipswich after his father’s death, where he found work as an engine fitter, marrying in 1877 and then moving to Clacton on Sea, where his son, of course also named Joseph Clarke Kistruck, was born in 1883. (I wonder what he would have thought of Clacton’s new MP.) This was, as regular readers will know, during a decade in which many chess clubs started up, and chess was beginning to look like the game we now know.
In January 1889 a new chess opened in Clacton, and Joseph was one of the first members. On Easter Monday they played a match against a team of visitors, whose number included Joseph’s brother James.
Joseph also took second place in the inaugural club championship, which concluded the following month.
The last time we hear from him, is in a match against local rivals Colchester in 1890. Perhaps he had to retire from chess for health reasons as he sadly died in September 1892. His son, though, followed in his footsteps, playing in a match for Clacton, again against Colchester, in 1906.
James, meanwhile, had moved to London, working for Jeremiah Rotherham & Co, a large department store on Shoreditch High Street, and, unmarried, living on the premises.
His name started appearing in the press in December 1887 as a regular solver of chess problems. Apart from the friendly match against his brother’s team we have no evidence of him playing club chess.
For several years his name was seen regularly in both local and national papers, which, week after week, would publish lists of those who had submitted correct solutions to their puzzles. He was clearly an accomplished solver.
In 1891 he tried his hand at composition, but the g and h files have been cut off in the online newspaper.
The following week the paper reported that the position, as published, had multiple solutions, and that a black pawn on g7 should be added. The correct solution, if indeed there was one, doesn’t appear to have been published.
If you also add a white pawn on g4 you get a sound, but not at all interesting, mate in 2.
Perhaps any problemists reading this can come up with something better.
By 1893 he was solving far less frequently, and, by the dawn of the 20th century he’d stopped completely, only returning late in life, with mentions in 1928 and 1929, and living on until 1935.
Back in 1909 he unexpectedly married a much younger woman, and their only son, James (of course) Frederick Kistruck, was born the following year. (It looks like they might have had an earlier son with the same name who didn’t survive, and whose birth was registered shortly after his death.) They had now moved out to North London, but he continued working for the same company. Even at the age of 71, in 1921, and by that time living in Wood Green, he was employed as a warehouseman.
There were a couple of other Kistrucks who occasionally solved chess problems. In 1889 there was a J S Kistruck (‘we note the different name’), who might have been a cousin, James Syer Kistruck. In 1893, EE Kistruck from Offton solved a problem in the East Anglian Daily Times. This must have been Joseph and James’s sister Edith Eliza Kistruck (1859-1908): it’s good to know that chess was played by girls as well as boys in the Kistruck family. Edith never married, moving around a lot and spending time with her siblings. In 1885 she gave birth to an illegitimate son, Oliver, in Bethnal Green (near where James was working) who died the following year.
Having looked at the chess careers of the Kistruck family, we need to return to the 7-year-old problemist James Kistruck, living in either London or Clacton, depending on which source you prefer, and having a problem published in Hackney.
James Kistruck was living near Hackney at the time, solving and attempting to compose problems. As of 1891 he had no children. His older brother Joseph was living in Clacton and playing over the board, and had a 7-year-old son, but his name was also Joseph, not James.
It seems to me that this was just a harmless hoax, cashing in on the fame of Lilian Baird to get a couple of problems published. I’d guess James composed them, and used his name, but his nephew’s age and home town to get them published.
If you have any other thoughts, do let me know, and don’t forget to come back soon for another Minor Piece.
Sources & Acknowledgements:
ancestry.co.uk/newspapers.com
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Wikipedia
Yet Another Chess Problem Database (www.yacpdb.org/)
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Rook Endgames from Morphy to Carlsen
Rook Endgames from Morphy to Carlsen: Valentin Bogdanov
From the publisher:
“So, you want to improve your rook endings? Good choice, as they occur more often in your games than your favourite opening lines!
Allow vastly experienced trainer Valentin Bogdanov to assist. However, we are not headed for the classroom, but to the tournament hall! We shall witness tense moments as the greatest champions in chess history battle their way through all manner of rook endings: tactical, strategic and technical. Your coach will be whispering in your ear, explaining what is happening and giving the theoretical background. You will also be getting the benefit of modern computer analysis, which X-rays these classic games for errors and missed resources in a way that was not possible even a few years ago. A feast of astonishing analysis awaits!
We shall see that even the best players make a surprising number of errors in rook endings. This should give us heart to fight even in the most desperate of situations, and motivate us to study these endgames so we can pick up the many half-points and even full points that our opponents will surely offer up to us.
By emphasizing the most common themes and areas where players go astray, Bogdanov helps us determine which parts of those technical endgame manuals that are sitting on our shelves are most worth thumbing through. This book can also simply be enjoyed as a stroll through chess history – you will be amazed how many key turning-points occurred in rook endgames!
The players featured in this book include all 17 official world champions, the 3 ‘uncrowned kings’ who preceded them, and a selection of 8 other outstanding players. There are 384 examples in total. The book is completed with a selection of 68 exercise positions, and detailed indexes of themes and players.”
About the author, Valentin Bogdanov
“International Master Valentin Bogdanov has vast experience as a chess trainer, and is from Ukraine. His pupils include Moskalenko, Savchenko and Drozdovsky, and he has acted as a second for the well-known grandmaster and theoretician Viacheslav Eingorn since the late 1970s. For more than 50 years he has been a teacher at the chess school in Odesa (Ukraine), and in 2016 won the European Over-65 Championship. In the same year he also qualified as an International Arbiter and has since then officiated over a great many chess events in his country. This is his fifth book for Gambit.”
Here, on YouTube John Nunn gives the reader an introduction to the book:
and, if that wasn’t good enough for you we have this sample of the content.
This book is an excellent publication on rook endgames. It is packed full of an instructive examples from practical games which makes the material more accessible than a book of purely theoretical positions. There are a lot of fresh examples that are new to the reviewer which makes the book particularly novel. The book is probably aimed at 2000+ players although any aspiring player would glean lots of useful guidelines on playing rook endings from this tome. There is an excellent “Index Of Themes” at the back.
The reviewer will show six examples from the book.
Position 10
There are many positions with R+2P v R with a and c pawns that are drawn. This position is winning with care. Steinitz inexplicably played 81.a7+? believing that seizing c7 for the king would win. 81…Kxa7! 82.Kc7 Rh1! 83.c6 Rh7+ drawing with flank checks.
The natural 81.Kd7! wins easily, for example 81…Rh1 82.c6 Rh7+ 83.Kd6 Rh6+ 84.Kc5 Rh1 85.Kb6 Rb1+ 86.Rb5
86…Ra1 87.c7+ Kc8 88.a7 Ra2 89.a8Q Rxa8 90.Rd5 winning
Position 100
Black hurries to force a drawn R+P v R endgame, but is mistaken.
52…b3? 52…Rh2 or Re2 is much better 53.axb3! Rxb3 54.Kd6 Rd3+
White played 55.Ke6? throwing away the win, 55.Ke7! wins controlling d8, after 55…Rh3 intending flank checks 56.Ra4 Rh7+ 57.Kf6 Rh6+ (57..Kd8 58.Ra8+) 58.Kg5
58…Rd6 otherwise, white will cut black’s king off with Rd4 59.e5 Rd1 60.Kf6! winning because black’s rook can only work on the short side as his king is on the long side
Position 116
This position is deceptive 47…Rb6 (47…Rb5 allows 48.Rd6 and the rook gets behind the pawn and white probably draws) 48.Ra4 Ra6? for once placing the rook behind the pawn does not win as the a-pawn is only on the fourth rank! 48…Rb5! 49.Rc4 Kf6! and black’s active king wins the game as it can support the a-pawn quickly
49.Kf3? natural but 49.f3! and 50.g4! seeking counterplay draws 49…Kf6 50.Ke4 Ke6 natural, but 50…Re6+ and Re5 activating the rook wins 51.f3! white advances the kingside pawns to get counterplay which draws with accurate play.
51…Ra7 52.g4 Ra6 53.Kf4 f6 54.Ke4 f5+ 55.gxf5+ gxf5+ 56.Kf4 Kf6 57.Ke3 Ke5 58.Kd3 Rd6+ 59.Ke3 Rd5 60.Rc4 Rb5 61.Ra4! Kd5 62.Ra1 Kc4
White has defended well but now makes a fatal mistake 63.Rc1+ draws as the black king has to retreat, 63.Kf4? Kc3! The a-pawn is too strong 64.Kg5 Kb2 65.Re1 f4+! 66.Kxf4 a4! 67.Ke4 a3 68.f4 a2 winning
Position 131
Bisguier had an appalling record against Fischer, gaining a single win and a single draw against the young Bobby. He lost the other thirteen games including this one.
White has an edge as black’s king is a long way from the b-pawn, but he can draw with careful defence. 70…d4? (Sloppy, black can draw easily with 70…Rb3! 71.Kc5 Rb1 72.Rd2 Ke6!) 71.Kd5! a clever switchback probably missed by Black 71…Rd1 72.Rf2+! The point forcing the black king further away 72…Kg4
Now Fischer goes astray, 73.Kc4? White can win with 73.b5! Kg3 (73…Rb1 74.Kc4 d3 75.Rd2! Rc1+ 76.Kc5! Rc1+ 77.Kb6 Rc3 78.Ka5 and Black loses the d-pawn and the game) 74.Rb2! winning
After 73.Kc4? played in the game:
Bisguier came up with a faulty plan 73…d3? 74.Kc3! winning the pawn after Rd2 and as the Black king is cut off by two files, the ensuing R+P v P is easily won
73…Kg3! draws 74.Rf5 (74.Rb2 Kf4 75.b5 Ke3 draws), 74…d3! 75.Kc3 d2! 76.b5 Kg4! 77. Rd5 Kf4! draws as capturing the d2-pawn allows a drawn K+P v K ending.
So much play with only 6 pieces!
Position 200
Aronian played the cunning waiting move 73.Rd6 testing the young Magnus. This trap is also covered in Rook Endings by Levenfish & Smyslov. Black played the natural check 73…Ra7+? which loses. After 74.Ke8! Carlsen resigned. Only 73…Kg6! draws.
Position 293
White won here using a famous systematic manoeuvre called Lasker’s steps. 67.Rxc2? throws away the win as Black’s flank checks with the rook draw, so 67.f7! Rg4+ 68.Kh8 Rf4 69.Rc6+ Kh5 70.Kg7 Rg4+ 71.Kh7 Rf4 72.Rc5+ Kh4 73.Kg7 Rg4+ 74.Kf6 Rf4+ 75.Ke6 Re4+ 76.Kf5 Re2 77.Kg6 Rg2+ 78.Kh6 Rf2 79.Rc4+ Kh3 80.Kg6 Rg2+ 81.Kh5 Rf2 82.Rc3+ Kh2 83.Rxc2! queening the pawn. Now White just has to win Q v R.
This short review cannot really do justice to this book. I do highly recommend it. The graded exercises at the end are tricky , even the so called easy ones!
FM Richard Webb, Chineham, Hampshire, 6th July 2024
Book Details :
- Hardcover : 344 pages
- Publisher: Gambit Publications (1 April 2024)
- Language: English
- ISBN-10: 1805040715
- ISBN-13: 978-1805040712
- Product Dimensions: 17.78 x 2.24 x 25.4 cm
Official web site of Gambit Publications Ltd.
Save as PDFMinor Pieces 75: Charles Dealtry Locock (2)
Last time I considered Charles Dealtry Locock’s tournament and match play in the 1880s and 1890s, at which point he gave up competitive chess.
But it was far from the end of his chess career. Alongside his chess playing he had a parallel career as a chess problemist.
In The Chess Bouquet (1897) he was given the opportunity to say something about how he started to take an interest in the problem art.
Here’s that first problem.
Problem 1 (#3 Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News 18-02-1882). The solutions to all problems are at the end of this article.
Here’s another early problem.
Problem 2 (#2 Southern Weekly News 29-12-1883).
But these represented just an early dalliance in the problem world. Concentrating on his studies and over the board play, he took a break from composition, only returning in 1890.
This miniature had probably first been published in Tinsley’s Magazine a few months earlier.
Problem 3. (#2 Morning Post 06-01-1890)
He published a few more problems in 1891, gradually increasing his production over the next few years as he stopped playing tournament chess.
Most of the problems were mates in 2 or 3 moves (quite a few of them, sadly, cooked, which suggests, as does his play, a certain carelessness), but also a few selfmates. By now he had a column in Knowledge, which ran from 1891 to 1904, which provided an outlet for some of his compositions.
While some of them were complex, he also published a lot of simpler problems suitable for casual readers, often employing perennially popular themes such as queen moves to corners, star flights and switchbacks.
Problem 4. (#2 The Field 1891)
In 1892 Locock made a brief excursion into the world of endgame studies, with this early example of Co-ordinate Squares.
You’ll see Locock was living in Kingston at the time, but by the September he’d moved down the road to Putney Heath.
I haven’t been able to find anything further, either in the 1892 or 1893 BCM, perhaps unsurprisingly, since the position is drawn, regardless of whose move it is. If it’s Black’s move, though, the only drawing move is 1… Kg7.
If, however, you start with the white king on a1 instead, then you have an excellent study. It was published with this correction in the Deutsche Schachzeitung in October 1914.
White wants to meet Kf6 with Kd4, and therefore also wants to meet Kg5 with Ke3. There’s only one route to get there.
Study. (W to play and win British Chess Magazine July 1892 (corrected))
In the 1893 Christmas Special issue of the British Chess Magazine, Locock offered a puzzle involving retroanalysis.
Here’s the published solution. I’ll leave to experts in this field to comment.
His problems didn’t win a lot of prizes, but this Mate in 3 from 1896 was a first prize winner.
Problem 5. (#3 Manchester Weekly Times 1896)
In The Chess Bouquet Locock discussed his ‘decidedly heterodox’ views on chess problems.
He concluded like this.
This is one of the problems he composed for The Chess Bouquet.
Problem 6. (#2 The Chess Bouquet 1897)
Although he retired from competitive chess in 1899, Locock certainly didn’t retire from composition, although he was increasingly drawn to 3-movers rather than 2-movers. Some of them are pretty complex, but this one is rather sweet and certainly accessible to the casual solver.
Problem 7. (#3 British Chess Magazine February 1909)
This more complex mate in 3 was a 1st prize winner in 1933.
Problem 8. (#3 1st Prize British Chess Magazine 1933)
Now let me take you back to 1909. On April 1 (note the date), Locock wrote to the editor of the BCM:
A sui-mate is what we’d now call a selfmate. Black compels a reluctant White to deliver checkmate.
For those of you who aren’t bilingual, here’s the game.
Locock would maintain an interest in these tasks, known as Synthetic Games, throughout the rest of his long life. In 1944 he published a whole host of them in the BCM. Note that, unlike in Proof Games, there are often multiple solutions.
You might like to try a couple here.
Synthetic Game 1: White opens 1. Nc3 and delivers a pure mate (there’s only one reason why the king cannot move to any adjacent square) with the queen’s rook on the 5th move. (British Chess Magazine May 1944)
Synthetic Game 2: Black mates on move 5 by promotion to a knight (this is also a pure mate). (Manchester Weekly Times 28 Dec 1912)
If you’re interested in synthetic games you’ll want to read this comprehensive and authoritative paper written by George Jelliss.
There, then, you have the problem career of Charles Dealtry Locock, who, as well as being a very strong player during the 1880s and 1890s, held an important and, you might say, unique place in the chess problem world for more than 60 years. If you’d like to see more of his problems, check out the links to YACPDB and MESON at the foot of this article.
But there was much more to Locock’s chess life than playing and composing, as you’ll find out next time. Be sure not to miss it.
Solutions to Problems and Study (click on any move for a pop-up board).
Problem 1.
Problem 2.
Problem 3.
Study.
Problem 5.
Problem 6.
Problem 7.
Problem 8.
Synthetic Game 1.
Synthetic Game 2.
Sources and Acknowledgements
ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Wikipedia
The Chess Bouquet (FR Gittins: here)
British Chess Magazine (various issues)
Internet Archive (here)
Chess Archaeology (here)
The Problemist
Yet Another Chess Problem Database (here)
MESON Chess Problem Database (here)
Synthetic Games (George Jelliss: here)
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