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Minor Pieces 28: George Edward Wainwright Part 3

March 25, 2022 Richard James 2 Comments

This is the third post in my series about George Edward Wainwright, sometime member of Twickenham, Guildford and Surbiton Chess Clubs, and one of the strongest English amateurs of his day.

You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

American Chess Magazine 1898: taken from a public member tree on ancestry.co.uk

We left George in Surbiton in 1911, happily married, with four children and an important job in local government.

That summer he travelled abroad to play chess for the first time. He was playing top board for a team of members and friends of Hastings Chess Club who embarked on a tour of France and Switzerland, scoring 4½/5. I guess he was a friend, rather than a member.

Here’s a game from their match against the Union Amicale des Amateurs de la Régence, where he encountered the Russian diplomat Vassily Soldatenkov. (Click on any move of any game in this article and a Magic Pop-up Chessboard should, with any luck, appear.)

[pgn]

[Event “Paris v Hastings Café de la Régence”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1911.08.17”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Wainwright, George Edward”]
[Black “Soldatenkov, Vassily”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “D55”]
[Annotator “Tactical Analysis 5.1 (1s)”]
[PlyCount “103”]
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Nbd7
5. e3 Be7 6. Qc2 O-O 7. Nf3 b6 8. cxd5 exd5 9. Rd1 Bb7 10. Bd3 h6 {D55:
Queen’s Gambit Declined: 4 Bg5 Be7: Lines without …h6 and 6…h6 7 Bxf6.} 11.
Bf4 c5 12. h3 {[#] White is much more active. Black has bad knights.} c4 $146 {
White is slightly better.} ({Predecessor:} 12… Re8 13. O-O Nf8 14. Bb5 N8d7
15. Ne5 Rc8 16. Nxd7 Nxd7 17. Qf5 Bc6 18. Bxc6 Rxc6 19. Nxd5 {1-0 (34)
Shoosmith,H-Mercer,A Shrewsbury/ Shropshire 1906}) 13. Be2 (13. Bf5 $14) 13…
a6 14. Ne5 (14. a4 $11) 14… b5 $1 $17 {[%cal Bb6b5,Bb5b4][%mdl 32] Hoping
for …b4.} 15. Bf3 (15. O-O $15) 15… b4 16. Ne2 Rc8 (16… a5 $17) 17. O-O {
[%cal Oa2a3] [#]} Re8 (17… a5 $1 $17) 18. Ng3 (18. a3 $11 {keeps the balance.
}) 18… c3 $2 (18… a5 $17) 19. b3 $2 {[%mdl 8192]} (19. Rc1 $14) 19… Nf8
$2 (19… Bf8 $19 {aiming for …a5.} 20. Nf5 Qb6) 20. Nf5 (20. Bxh6 $11 Ne6
21. Bh5) 20… Ne6 $1 $15 21. Bxh6 $1 Bf8 (21… gxh6 $2 22. Nxh6+ Kf8 23.
Nexf7 $18) 22. Bf4 Nxf4 ({Better is} 22… g6 $15 23. Nh6+ Bxh6 24. Bxh6 Ne4)
23. exf4 $14 g6 (23… a5 $14) 24. Ne3 $16 Ne4 25. Bxe4 (25. Rfe1 $16) 25…
dxe4 $14 26. f5 (26. d5 $14) 26… Qg5 $36 {[%mdl 2048] Black fights for an
advantage.} 27. fxg6 f6 28. N5g4 {[%cal Oa2a3]} Qxg6 29. Nc4 (29. f4 $1 $11)
29… Rc7 ({Black should try} 29… Qg5 $17) 30. Rfe1 $2 (30. f4 $1 $11 {
and White is okay.}) 30… Rg7 $19 {[%mdl 1024] Black has strong compensation.}
31. Nce3 {[#]} (31. g3 $142) 31… Bd6 $2 (31… Kh8 $1 $19 {And now …f5
would win.} 32. Qe2 Be7) 32. Nf5 $1 $14 {Pair of Knights!} Rd7 {[%mdl 8192]
Black is on the road to losing.} (32… Bf4 $1 $14 33. Nxg7 Kxg7) 33. f3 (33.
d5 $142) 33… Bf4 $2 (33… Kh8 {was necessary.} 34. fxe4 Bc7) 34. fxe4 $18
Bd2 35. Re2 Qxf5 {[#]} 36. Nh6+ $1 {[%mdl 512]} Bxh6 37. exf5 {[%mdl 64]
Discovered Attack} Rxe2 (37… Be3+ 38. Rxe3 Rxe3) 38. Qxe2 {Black must now
prevent Qe8+. White is clearly winning.} Rc7 39. Qe8+ Bf8 40. Qd8 Re7 41. d5 c2
42. Rc1 Re2 43. Qxf6 {Threatens to win with Qg6+.} Bc5+ 44. Kh2 Be3 45. Qg6+
Kf8 46. Qf6+ Kg8 47. Qd8+ Kf7 48. Qc7+ Kf6 49. Rxc2 Rxc2 50. Qxc2 Bxd5 51. Qd3
{[%csl LRa6,LRd5,LRe3]} Bf4+ 52. g3 {Weighted Error Value: White=0.65/Black=0.
76} 1-0

[/pgn]

At this point he took a break from tournament chess, not playing in either the 1911 British Championship in Glasgow or the 1911-12 City of London Championship.

He wasn’t inactive, though: in November he took part in a simul at the City of London Club against the up and coming young Cuban Capablanca, where he managed to win his game.

In 1912 he didn’t have far to go for the British Championship, which took place just up the road from him in Richmond – the Castle Assembly Rooms to be precise, down by the river and opposite the Town Hall. Again, he didn’t take part, but was there as a visitor. (I’m considering a future series of Minor Pieces about some of the chessers who descended on Richmond that year.)

Wainwright was back in action in the 1912-13 City of London Championship, but without success. A large entry that year required three qualifying sections, with three qualifiers from each section making the final pool. He was well down the field in his section.

Throughout his life he remained loyal to his home county of Yorkshire: in those days there was no problem representing both Surrey and Yorkshire in county matches.

In this game from a Yorkshire – Middlesex match played in Leicester (a neutral venue) he beat one of his regular London opponents and a future Kingston resident.

[pgn]

[Event “Yorkshire v Middlesex (Leicester)”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1913.10.11”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Wainwright, George Edward”]
[Black “Michell, Reginald Pryce”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C82”]
[Annotator “Tactical Analysis 5.1 (1s)”]
[PlyCount “61”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 {[%cal Bf1b5,Bb5a4,Ba4b3,Bb3c2][%mdl 32]} a6
4. Ba4 Nf6 5. O-O Nxe4 6. d4 b5 7. Bb3 d5 8. dxe5 Be6 9. c3 Be7 10. Nbd2 {
[%cal Bb1d2,Bd2b3,Bb3d4,Bd4f5][%mdl 32]} Nc5 11. Bc2 Bg4 12. h3 Bh5 13. Re1 O-O
{[#]} 14. Nb3 $146 {[%cal Oc2h7] [#] Inhibits d4. Hoping for Bxh7+! C82: Open
Ruy Lopez: 9 c3 without 9…Be7.} ({Predecessor:} 14. Nf1 Bg6 15. Bxg6 hxg6 16.
Ne3 Qd7 17. Nxd5 Rad8 18. Nxe7+ Qxe7 19. Qc2 Rd5 20. Bg5 Qd7 21. c4 bxc4 22.
Qxc4 {1/2-1/2 (45) Alekhine,A-Levenfish,G Karlovy Vary 1911}) 14… Ne6 15. g4
Bg6 16. Nfd4 (16. Bf5 $14) 16… Ncxd4 $17 17. Nxd4 {aiming for Bxg6.} Bg5 (
17… Bxc2 $15 {keeps the upper hand.} 18. Qxc2 c5 19. Nxe6 fxe6) 18. Nf5 $16
Qd7 $2 {[%mdl 8192]} (18… a5 $16) 19. Kh2 $2 ({Only move:} 19. Bxg5 $18 Nxg5
20. h4 Nh3+ 21. Kg2 Nf4+ 22. Kg3 Nh5+ 23. Kh2 (23. Kf3 Qe6 $16)) 19… Rad8 (
19… f6 $11 {remains equal.}) 20. Bxg5 Nxg5 21. f4 Ne6 22. Qf3 {White is more
active.} Rfe8 (22… h6 $16) 23. Rad1 Nf8 (23… c6 $142 24. Qf2 Qc7) 24. Rd2
Bxf5 $2 (24… a5 {keeps fighting.} 25. Qg3 a4) 25. gxf5 $18 {[%cal Bg4f5,
Bf5f6][%mdl 32]} c6 (25… Kh8 $142 26. Qh5 f6) 26. Rg1 Kh8 27. Qg3 {[%csl Gg1]
[%cal Rg3g7]} g6 28. Qh4 Qe7 29. f6 Qc7 30. Qh6 {[%csl Gf6][%cal Rh6g7]} Ne6 {
[#]} 31. Rg5 $1 {[%mdl 512] Weighted Error Value: White=0.44/Black=1.23} 1-0

[/pgn]

Just two days later he took part in another simul against Capablanca, forsaking his usual tactical style and, after his opponent’s ill-advised queen trade, winning in the manner of – Capablanca.

[pgn]

[Event “Simul: City of London Chess Club”]
[Site “City of London CC, London ENG”]
[Date “1913.10.13”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Capablanca, Jose Raul”]
[Black “Wainwright, George Edward”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “C90”]
[Annotator “Tactical Analysis 5.1 (1s)”]
[PlyCount “74”]
[EventDate “1913.??.??”]
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. O-O Be7 6. Re1 b5 7. Bb3 d6
8. c3 {[%cal Bc2c3,Bc3d4,Bd4d5][%mdl 32]} Na5 9. Bc2 c5 10. a4 {[#] Strongly
threatening axb5. C90: Closed Ruy Lopez with 7…d6: Early deviations.} Rb8
$146 ({Predecessor:} 10… b4 11. d4 Qc7 12. cxb4 cxb4 13. b3 Bb7 14. Bb2 Rc8
15. Bd3 Nd7 16. Nbd2 O-O 17. Rc1 Qb8 18. Qe2 Qa8 19. dxe5 dxe5 20. Rxc8 Rxc8
21. Nxe5 {1/2-1/2 (30) Balla,Z-Reti,R Temesvar 1912}) 11. axb5 axb5 12. d4 {
White is better.} cxd4 13. cxd4 Nc6 14. d5 Nb4 15. Bb3 O-O 16. Nc3 {[%cal
Bb1c3,Bc3e2,Be2g3][%mdl 32]} Na6 17. Bc2 b4 18. Ne2 Nd7 19. b3 Ndc5 20. Ng3 g6
21. Bh6 Re8 22. Qd2 Bf6 (22… Bg4 $11) 23. h4 Bg7 24. Bxg7 (24. Bg5 $16 Bf6
25. Be3) 24… Kxg7 $11 25. Ra2 Bg4 26. Qg5 $2 {Now White is beyond hope.} ({
White should try} 26. h5 $15) 26… Qxg5 $19 27. hxg5 Bxf3 28. gxf3 Nc7 {
[%cal Ba6c7,Bc7b5,Bb5a3][%mdl 32]} 29. Rea1 Nb5 30. Ne2 Na3 31. Bd1 (31. Kg2 {
keeps fighting.}) 31… h6 32. gxh6+ Kxh6 33. Kf1 Kg5 34. Nc1 Rh8 {[#] aiming
for …Rh1+. Black is clearly winning.} 35. Ke2 Nb5 {Pair of Knights!} 36. Ke3
Nc3 {[%csl LRa2,LRd1]} 37. Rd2 Rh3 {Weighted Error Value: White=0.62/Black=0.
21 (precise)} 0-1

[/pgn]

The following year, he did better in the City of London Championship, this time qualifying for the finals by winning this game against a young Dutch master who had crossed the Channel hoping to make money by beating rich Englishmen.

[pgn]

[Event “City of London Club Championship”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1914.02.07”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Davidson, Jacques”]
[Black “Wainwright, George Edward”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “C65”]
[Annotator “Tactical Analysis 5.1 (1s)”]
[PlyCount “62”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. d3 d6 5. c3 g6 6. h3 {
C65: Ruy Lopez: Berlin Defence (3…Nf6), unusual lines and 4 0-0 Bc5.} Bg7 7.
Be3 O-O 8. Nbd2 {[#] The position is equal.} Nd7 $146 ({Predecessor:} 8… Bd7
9. O-O a6 10. Ba4 h6 11. Re1 b5 12. Bc2 b4 13. d4 bxc3 14. bxc3 Ne8 {1/2-1/2
(46) Messemaker,C-Loman,R The Hague 1890}) 9. O-O f5 10. Bc4+ (10. exf5 {
seems wilder.} gxf5 11. Ng5 f4 12. Ne6 Qe7 13. Bc4) 10… Kh8 11. Bg5 {[#]} (
11. exf5 $1 $11 gxf5 12. Ng5) 11… Qe8 $1 $17 {Threatens to win with …f4.}
12. Nh2 $2 {[%mdl 8192]} (12. Bh4 $17) 12… h6 $19 13. exf5 hxg5 14. Ne4 gxf5
15. Nxg5 Nb6 16. Bb3 Qg6 17. f4 exf4 18. h4 Bd7 19. Rxf4 Be5 20. Rf3 Bxh2+ 21.
Kxh2 Ne5 22. Rg3 (22. Rf4 $142 a5 23. d4 Ng4+ 24. Kg1) 22… Ng4+ 23. Kg1 d5
24. d4 Rae8 25. Qd3 {[%cal Og3g4]} Re4 26. Rf1 Rfe8 27. Nxe4 dxe4 ({Weaker is}
27… fxe4 28. Qe2 $11) 28. Qe2 {[%cal Ob3f7]} c6 $2 (28… e3 $19 {And now …
Re4 would win.} 29. Rh3 Qh6) 29. Bf7 $1 $15 Qxf7 {Chess con chili.} 30. Rxg4 e3
{[#] …Qc4 is the strong threat. Black is more active.} 31. Rf3 $2 {[%mdl
8192]} (31. Rg3 $15) 31… Qc4 {Weighted Error Value: White=0.65/Black=0.18
(very precise)} 0-1

[/pgn]

By now it was 1914 and storm clouds were gathering over Europe. The London League kept going for one more season. Wainwright was representing the Lud Eagle club and won this game featuring a rather unusual sacrificial kingside attack in a match against West London. His opponent, William Henry Regan, was a stamp and coin dealer.

[pgn]

[Event “London League: Lud Eagle v West London”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1914.??.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Wainwright, George Edward”]
[Black “Regan, William Henry”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “A43”]
[Annotator “Tactical Analysis 5.1 (1s)”]
[PlyCount “63”]

1. d4 c5
2. d5 Nf6 3. Nf3 d6 4. Nc3 {[#]} a6 $146 ({Predecessor:} 4… g6 5. e4 Bg4 6.
h3 Bxf3 7. Qxf3 Bg7 8. Qe2 Nbd7 9. f4 Nh5 10. Qf3 a6 11. g4 Nhf6 12. Bg2 Qb6
13. Rf1 O-O-O {0-1 (60) Holmes,H-Blackburne,J Scarborough/ North Yorkshire 1909
}) 5. g3 g6 (5… b5 $1 $11 {remains equal.}) 6. Bg2 {A43: Schmid Benoni.} (6.
a4 $16) 6… Bg7 (6… b5 $1 $11) 7. O-O (7. e4 $16) 7… O-O (7… b5 $1 $11 {
keeps the balance.}) 8. Bf4 (8. a4 $16) 8… Nh5 9. Bd2 b5 10. Rb1 (10. a3 $11)
10… Bb7 {White must now prevent …b4.} 11. e4 Nd7 12. Ng5 h6 13. Nh3 Ne5 ({
Black should try} 13… Nhf6 $15) 14. Ne2 ({Better is} 14. g4 $11 Nf6 15. g5
hxg5 16. Nxg5) 14… b4 15. f4 {[%cal Bf2f4,Bf4f5][%mdl 32]} Nc4 16. b3 Na3 (
16… Nxd2 $15 {keeps the upper hand.} 17. Qxd2 Nf6) 17. Rc1 $16 {And now g4
would win.} Bb2 (17… e6 $16 {was called for.}) 18. f5 $18 Bxc1 $2 (18… g5
$16 {is tougher.}) 19. Bxc1 g5 20. Nef4 Nf6 (20… gxf4 21. Qxh5 e5 22. fxe6
fxe6 23. Qg6+ Kh8 24. Qxh6+ Kg8 25. Qxe6+ Rf7 26. Rxf4 $18) (20… Ng7 {
might work better.}) 21. Nh5 {[%cal Oh3g5] Nxg5! is the strong threat.} Nb5 $2
{[#]} (21… c4) 22. Nxf6+ $2 ({White must play} 22. Nxg5 $1 $18 {[%mdl 512]}
Nc3 23. Nxf6+ exf6 24. Ne6 Nxd1 25. Nxd8 Rfxd8 26. Rxd1) 22… exf6 $14 23. Qh5
Kg7 {[#] aiming for …Rh8.} 24. Bxg5 $1 {White is more active.} Rh8 {Loses
the game.} (24… fxg5 $2 25. f6+ Qxf6 26. Rxf6 Kxf6 27. Qxh6+ Ke7 28. Nxg5 $18
) (24… hxg5 $16 {keeps fighting.} 25. Nxg5 fxg5 26. f6+ {[#]} Qxf6 $1 {
[%mdl 512]} 27. Rxf6 Kxf6 28. e5+ dxe5 29. Qh6+ Ke7) 25. Bh4 {The board is on
fire. This bishop pair is nice.} Nd4 $2 (25… Qe7 26. Nf2 (26. Nf4 Rag8 $14)
26… Nc7) 26. Nf4 $18 {White is clearly winning.} Rg8 {[#]} 27. Ne6+ $1 {
[%mdl 576] Deflection} fxe6 28. Qg6+ Kf8 29. Qxh6+ Ke8 30. fxe6 {Qh5+ would
kill now.} Nxe6 31. dxe6 {Intending Qh5+ and mate.} Qe7 32. Qh5+ {Weighted
Error Value: White=0.71/Black=1.03} 1-0

[/pgn]

The City of London Championship managed to keep going for the duration, albeit with far fewer entries, giving George Edward Wainwright the opportunity to continue playing his favourite game.

He didn’t play in 1914-15 or 1915-16, but returned to the fray in 1916-17. Understandably rusty, he finished in last place behind Edward Guthlac Sergeant. The following year, fulfilling the prophecy from Matthew 20:16 (The last shall be first), later repeated by Bob Dylan (The loser now will be later to win) he shared first place with Philip Walsingham Sergeant (EG’s second cousin) and Edmund MacDonald, winning the play-off and so taking the title for the second time.

He was unsuccessful in defending his title in 1918-19, finishing in midfield behind the Latvian master Theodor Germann as chess started to wake up again following the end of hostilities.

In 1919 the British Chess Federation celebrated with a Victory Tournament in Hastings, where Capablanca won the top section ahead of Kostic. The Ladies’ Championship was included but the title of British Champion itself wasn’t awarded. While in the country, Capa gave a simul at the City of London Club, and, for a third time, lost against Wainwright.

Meanwhile, there were some important changes in Wainwright’s personal life. There was a major reconstruction of local government in 1919: the Local Government Board was abolished, its powers being transferred to the newly created Ministry of Health. It seems likely that at this point Wainwright, a wealthy gentleman whose children had now grown up, decided to retire. At some point in 1920 he and his wife moved to Alice’s home village of Box, Wiltshire. Box is situated in the beautiful Cotswolds, on the A4 between the city of Bath and the market town of Corsham.

The village’s previous claim to chess fame was as the birthplace of Thomas Bowdler (1754-1825), who, when he wasn’t expunging Shakespeare’s rude words, was one of the strongest English players of his day.

The Wainwright family settled in a cottage called Netherby, near the centre of the village, now a Grade 2 listed building. Very charming it looks too.

The Reverend Vere Awdry and his family moved into Lorne House (now a Bed & Breakfast establishment), next to the railway station on the road to Corsham, also in 1920. They’d arrived in the village in 1917, and had lived at two previous addresses there. He and his young son Wilbert used to spend hours watching the steam trains pass by. Many years later, Wilbert, now the Reverend W Awdry, would be inspired by this memory to write the Thomas the Tank Engine books, much loved by generations of young children, including me. George and Vere, as prominent members of the village community, would surely have known each other, and George would have known young Wilbert as well.

By 1920 things were back to normal, and George Edward Wainwright, now retired, was one of those selected for the British Championship in Edinburgh: his first appearance for a decade. His address was given as London and Box in different newspapers, which suggests he’d just moved, or was in the process of moving.

Roland Henry Vaughan Scott was the slightly surprising winner, ahead of the hot favourite Sir George Alan Thomas. Wainwright scored a respectable 4½/11, not bad for a player in his late 50s.

In this game he launched a dangerous kingside attack in typical style, and his opponent wasn’t up to the defensive task. Scottish champion Francis Percival (Percy) Wenman, a former petty thief (of chess books) and later plagiarist, will be well worth a future Minor Piece.

[pgn]

[Event “British CF-13 Championship”]
[Site “Edinburgh”]
[Date “1920.08.11”]
[Round “3”]
[White “Wainwright, George Edward Sr”]
[Black “Wenman, Francis Percival”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “D40”]
[PlyCount “73”]
[EventDate “1920.08.09”]
[EventType “tourn”]
[EventRounds “11”]
[EventCountry “SCO”]
[SourceTitle “EXT 2017”]
[Source “ChessBase”]
[SourceDate “2016.10.25”]
[SourceVersion “1”]
[SourceVersionDate “2016.10.25”]
[SourceQuality “1”]

1. d4 e6 2. Nf3 d5 3. e3 Nf6 4. c4 c5 5. Bd3 Nc6 6. O-O Bd6
7. Nc3 O-O 8. b3 b6 {D40: Queen’s Gambit Declined: Semi-Tarrasch with 5 e3.} 9.
Bb2 Bb7 10. Qe2 Re8 $146 {Black is slightly better.} ({Predecessor:} 10… cxd4
11. exd4 Nh5 12. g3 Nf6 13. Rad1 Rc8 14. Nb5 Bb8 15. Ne5 a6 16. Na3 Nb4 {
1-0 (57) Janowski,D-Rosenthal,J New York 1916}) 11. Rad1 cxd4 12. exd4 Rc8 13.
Bb1 Bb8 14. Ne5 Ne7 15. Rd3 Ng6 {[#] Strongly threatening …Nf4.} 16. f4 Bc6
17. g4 {[%cal Bg2g4,Bg4g5][%mdl 32]} (17. Nxc6 Rxc6 18. g3 dxc4 19. bxc4 Rxc4
$15) 17… Rf8 18. g5 Bxe5 {[%mdl 8192]} (18… Ne4 $16 {was called for.}) 19.
dxe5 $18 Nd7 20. cxd5 exd5 21. Qh5 Re8 22. Nxd5 (22. Rh3 Ndf8 23. f5 Rxe5 $16)
22… Bxd5 23. Rxd5 Rc5 24. Rd3 Qc7 25. Qg4 Ndxe5 $2 (25… Ndf8 26. Rdd1 Rd8)
26. fxe5 Nxe5 27. Qe4 g6 28. Re1 $2 (28. Re3) 28… Nf3+ 29. Qxf3 $2 (29. Rxf3
$18 {[%cal Re4e8]} Rxe4 30. Bxe4) 29… Rxe1+ $11 30. Kf2 {[%cal Bg1f2,Bf2e1,
Be1e2][%mdl 32] Intending Qa8+ and mate.} Rf5 $2 {[%mdl 8192] [#]} 31. Qxf5 $1
$18 {Chess con chili.} ({Worse is} 31. Kxe1 Rxf3 32. Rxf3 Qe7+ 33. Kf1 Qxg5 $14
) 31… gxf5 ({Weaker is} 31… Rxb1 32. Rd8+ Qxd8 33. Qxb1) 32. Kxe1 {Bf6 is
the strong threat.} h6 $2 (32… f6) 33. Bf6 Qc1+ 34. Ke2 {White threatens
Rd8+ and mate.} ({And not} 34. Rd1 Qe3+ 35. Kf1 Qf3+ 36. Ke1 hxg5 $11) 34…
Qxb1 35. Rd8+ {White mates.} Kh7 36. Rh8+ Kg6 37. Rxh6# {Source: The Scotsman
13 Aug 1920. Weighted Error Value: White=0.56/Black=1.09} 1-0

[/pgn]

It was now 1921 and time for the census enumerator to pay a visit to the Wainwright residence in Box. George and Alice were there, along with a visitor from Bradford, possibly a family friend, and a general servant.

You’ll find out what happened in the latter stages of his life and chess career next time.

Sources:

ancestry.co.uk

findmypast.co.uk

Wikipedia

Google Maps

edochess.ca

chessgames.com

Britbase

Thanks to Gerard Killoran for information about Wainwright’s simul games against Capablanca.

2022, Biographies, British Championships, Congress, Games Analysis, History, Journalism, Minor Pieces, Player, Richard James

Minor Pieces 27: George Edward Wainwright Part 2

March 7, 2022 Richard James 1 Comment

Apologies for the Minor Pieces delay, but I had a deadline on another project. It’s now time to return to George Edward Wainwright.

Here he is again. You might recall (it was a long time ago) that, in my previous article, we left him in 1901, an English international player, previously a member of Twickenham Chess Club, but now living and playing chess in Guildford.

The chess world would change a lot over the next decade, beginning to look a lot more like the world we know today, with a mixture of club and county matches and tournaments. It was, in the spirit of the times, becoming more competitive. George Edward Wainwright was in his element.

At the end of May 1901 he was in Folkestone for the 3rd Kent County Chess Association Tournament, although his result there was rather indifferent. His opponents included Edward Guthlac Sergeant, Joseph Henry Blake and the endgame expert Creassey Edward Cecil Tattersall, the winner of his section. The other section was won by Henry Ernest Atkins, ahead of Lucien Serraillier, father of the novellist Ian Serriallier (The Silver Sword).

His short draw against Tattersall featured an opening that would become the height of fashion a century later. He mishandled it, but on move 15 his opponent missed the win. 119 years later, English IM Jack Rudd reached the same position and made no mistake. (Click on any move in any game in this article and a pop-up window will magically appear.)

[pgn]

[Event “Kent County Championship Folkestone”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1901.05.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Tattersall, Creassey Edward Cecil”]
[Black “Wainwright, George Edward”]
[Result “1/2-1/2”]
[ECO “C67”]
[PlyCount “38”]

{[%evp 21,38,39,91,85,278,258,278,302,287,62,52,0,0,0,0,0,0,0,0]} 1. e4 e5 2.
Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. O-O Nxe4 5. d4 Nd6 6. Bxc6 dxc6 7. dxe5 Nf5 8. Qxd8+ Kxd8
9. Nc3 Be6 10. Ng5 Bc4 11. Rd1+ Ke8 {[%cal Bd8e8,Be8f7,Bf7e6,Be6d6][%mdl 32]}
12. b3 {White is more active. C67: Ruy Lopez: Berlin Defence: 4 0-0 Nxe4.} Ba6
{[#]} (12… h6 $16) 13. e6 $18 fxe6 14. Nxe6 {White has a decisive advantage.}
Bd6 15. Bb2 $2 (15. Ne4 $18 Be5 16. Rb1 Kf7 17. N6c5 Rad8 18. Bg5 Rxd1+ 19.
Rxd1 Nd6 20. Nxd6+ Bxd6 21. Nxa6 bxa6 22. Be3 c5 23. g3 Rb8 24. Rd5 a5 25. a4
c4 26. bxc4 Rb4 27. Rxa5 Rxc4 28. Rxa7 Rxc2 29. a5 Rc6 30. a6 Bc5 31. Bxc5 Rxc5
32. Rb7 Kg6 33. a7 Ra5 34. Rxc7 h5 35. h4 Ra2 36. Kf1 Kf6 37. Ke1 g5 38. hxg5+
Kxg5 39. Kd1 Kg4 40. Rf7 Kh3 41. Kc1 Kg2 42. Kb1 Rxa7 43. Rxa7 Kxf2 44. Rg7 {
1-0 (44) Rudd,J (2281)-Taylor,A (2402) Bridgend 2019}) 15… Kf7 $14 {[#]} 16.
Nxc7 Bxc7 {This bishop pair is nice. The position is equal.} 17. Rd7+ Ke6 $1
18. Rxc7 Kd6 19. Rf7 Ke6 {Weighted Error Value: White=0.70/Black=0.33} 1/2-1/2

[/pgn]

In May 1902 Wainwright took part in the 4th Kent tournament, held in Tunbridge Wells: an all-play-all for 10 players won by the Dutch organist Rudolf Loman, ahead of the likes of Reginald Pryce Michell and (later Sir) George Alan Thomas. Perhaps his most interesting opponent here was the mountaineer Edward Douglas Fawcett.

Against Isle of Wight solicitor Francis Joyce he essayed the relatively new and unexplored Albin Counter-Gambit.

[pgn]

[Event “1st Class Open Tunbridge Wells”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1902.05.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Joyce, Francis Albert”]
[Black “Wainwright, George Edward”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “D08”]
[PlyCount “40”]

{[%evp 9,40,0,14,-6,0,0,65,36,173,129,144,39,37,-53,-56,-114,-12,-204,-162,
-348,-332,-610,-569,-684,-655,-652,-653,-866,-867,-875,-876,-875,-829]} 1. d4
d5 2. c4 e5 3. dxe5 d4 {[#]} 4. Bd2 $146 ({Predecessor:} 4. Nf3 Nc6 5. Nbd2 a5
6. Nb3 Bg4 7. a3 Bxf3 8. exf3 a4 9. Nd2 Nxe5 10. f4 Nc6 11. Bd3 Qe7+ 12. Kf1
Nf6 13. g3 {1-0 (60) Alapin,S-Marshall,F Monte Carlo 1901}) 4… Nc6 5. Nf3 Bc5
6. a3 {D08: Albin Counter Gambit.} a5 {Prevents b4.} 7. Bf4 Bg4 (7… Nge7 $11)
8. Nbd2 {Hoping for h3. White is slightly better.} f6 ({Black should try} 8…
Nge7 $14) 9. Ne4 Be7 10. exf6 (10. h3 $16 Bxf3 11. exf3 (11. gxf3 fxe5 12. Bg3
Nf6 $11)) 10… Nxf6 $14 {[#]} 11. Qc2 (11. h3 $1 $14 Bxf3 (11… Bh5 12. Neg5)
12. Nxf6+ (12. gxf3 Nxe4 13. fxe4 O-O $15) (12. exf3 O-O $11) 12… Bxf6 13.
exf3 (13. gxf3 d3 $11)) 11… O-O {[%cal Od4d3] Strongly threatening …d3!}
12. Nxf6+ (12. e3 $1 $15) 12… Bxf6 ({Black should play} 12… Rxf6 $17 13.
Qd2 h6) 13. Bd2 (13. O-O-O $1 $11) 13… Qe7 {[%mdl 1024] And now …Bh5 would
win. Black has strong compensation.} 14. h3 $2 (14. O-O-O {was called for.})
14… Bh5 $19 {[%cal Bg4h5,Bh5g6,Bg6e4][%mdl 32]} 15. g4 $2 {[#]} (15. h4 Rad8
16. Qd3) 15… Bg6 {Black is clearly winning.} 16. Qd1 d3 17. e3 Bxb2 18. Bg2
Bxa1 19. Qxa1 Be4 20. Qd1 Qf7 {Weighted Error Value: White=0.98/Black=0.37} 0-1

[/pgn]

His score of 5½/9 gave him a share of 3rd prize, but he was slightly less successful in the Southern Counties Chess Union Tournament in Norwich, where 4½/11 left him well behind Michell, impressive with 10½/11.

We can see the chess administration we know now coming into shape in this period: county organisations affiliated to regional organisations, who were in turn affiliated to the British Chess Federation. It hasn’t changed very much in the last 120 years: some of us have been saying for years that we need a 21st century rather than a 19th century chess administration in this country.

The 1903 SCCU tournament necessitated a trip to Plymouth (the SCCU covered a much wider area than it does today) where he scored a big success. His score of 7/8 gave him first place ahead of George Edward Horton Bellingham, Wilfred Charles Palmer and Michell.

In October 1903 Wainwright resigned his post as President of Guildford Chess Club, as he had left the area. As we’ll see, he moved to Surbiton, just the other side of Kingston from his previous address in Teddington. Perhaps his job had taken him back from Guildford to Kingston, or perhaps he wanted to be nearer London for both work and chess purposes. Surbiton Station, on the main line into Waterloo, provided – and still provides – regular fast services into the capital. It looks very different now than it would have done in Wainwright’s time: the magnificent Art Deco building dates from 1937 and is considered one of the masterpieces of Scottish railway architect James Robb Scott.

He was soon in action against his former club, who were then, and, to the best of my knowledge, are still on friendly terms. Nearly 120 years later, they’re regular opponents in the Surrey Trophy.

Wainwright drew on top board against William Timbrell Pierce, a problemist and endgame study composer who also gives his name to a variation of the Vienna Gambit. Surbiton came out on top, even though retired architect Henry Jones Lanchester failed to turn up. He certainly wouldn’t have been looking after his baby granddaughter Elsa, who would later become a famous film star – and the wife of Charles Laughton: Henry disowned his daughter Edith (Elsa’s mother) and sent her to a lunatic asylum because of her relationship with a working class Irishman named Shamus.

One of the most important events in London chess for many years up to World War 2 was the City of London Championship, which regularly attracted many of the capital’s finest players. Games took place on weekday evenings, so, now living in Surbiton, he’d be able to get home quickly and easily. He took part for the first time in the 1903-04 season, finishing in midfield behind the largely forgotten William Ward, with Michell in second place.

1904 was a momentous year for British Chess: the first British Championship took place. It’s still, to this day, more or less recognisable. The venue chosen was Hastings: perhaps Wainwright was disappointed not to have been one of the 12 players selected for the championship itself, won by the Anglo-American master William Ewart Napier after a play-off with Atkins. There were three equal First Class sections, and he found himself in Section B, where he shared first place with Charles Hugh Sherrard. Other sections included the British Ladies Championship and sections for Second and Third Class players.

At Southport in 1905 he was promoted to the Championship itself where he scored a very respectable 6/11, finishing in 6th place.

Here’s his exciting victory over the tragic and short-lived Hector Shoosmith, the son of a Temperance Lecturer from Brighton.

[pgn]

[Event “British CF-02 Championship”]
[Site “Southport/ Merseyside”]
[Date “1905.08.21”]
[Round “7”]
[White “Wainwright, George Edward Sr”]
[Black “Shoosmith, Hector William”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C77”]
[PlyCount “119”]
[EventDate “1905.08.14”]
[EventType “tourn”]
[EventRounds “11”]
[EventCountry “GBR”]
[SourceTitle “EXT 2017”]
[Source “ChessBase”]
[SourceDate “2016.10.25”]
[SourceVersion “1”]
[SourceVersionDate “2016.10.25”]
[SourceQuality “1”]

{[%evp 9,119,8,-14,-128,-47,-42,-37,-39,-4,-60,-42,-110,-74,-84,0,-4,12,-1,61,
54,71,70,54,-10,3,0,41,22,34,-12,0,-39,58,51,33,-84,-37,-134,48,70,96,17,35,47,
96,53,106,32,91,92,207,175,182,175,260,260,258,67,111,69,113,162,163,167,170,
133,162,197,294,313,303,315,335,293,369,318,225,260,465,403,487,460,451,469,
510,352,484,435,523,524,693,452,730,703,755,515,701,492,1025,948,1014,889,994,
889,753,1005,1176,1103,1210,1123,1607,642]} 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4.
Ba4 Nf6 {[%cal Bg8f6,Bf6d5,Bd5b6][%mdl 32]} 5. d4 exd4 6. Qe2 {C77: Ruy Lopez:
3…a6 4 Ba4 Nf6, unusual lines.} Be7 7. O-O O-O 8. e5 {Black is slightly
better.} Nd5 $146 ({Predecessor:} 8… Ne8 9. Rd1 b5 10. Bb3 d5 11. c3 Be6 12.
cxd4 Qd7 13. Nc3 b4 14. Na4 Na5 {1-0 (29) Napier,W-Michell,R Hastings/ East
Sussex 1904}) 9. Rd1 (9. Bb3 $5 {[%cal Rb3d5]} Nb6 10. c3 $11) 9… Nb6 10. Bb3
d5 {…f6 is the strong threat.} 11. c3 Bg4 12. cxd4 Qd7 13. Nc3 Rae8 14. h3
Be6 15. Ng5 Bf5 16. a4 (16. f4 $5 {[%cal Rg2g4]}) 16… Na5 $36 {[%mdl 2048]
White is under pressure.} 17. Ba2 h6 (17… f6 $5 {[%cal Rf6g5]} 18. Nf3 Bb4
$11) 18. Nf3 Bb4 19. Bd2 Nc6 20. Bb3 a5 21. Be3 f6 22. Bf4 fxe5 23. Nxe5 Bxc3
$2 ({Black should play} 23… Nxe5 $17 24. dxe5 c6) 24. bxc3 $14 Qe6 {[%cal
Of5h3]} 25. Bh2 {White is more active.} Nxe5 26. dxe5 Qg6 27. Kh1 c6 ({Not}
27… Be4 28. f3 Bf5 29. Bg1 $16) 28. Rd4 Kh8 29. f3 Qe6 30. g4 Bh7 31. f4 c5
32. Rd2 ({Resist} 32. f5 $6 Qc6 33. Rd2 d4+ 34. Qg2 Qxg2+ 35. Kxg2 dxc3 $18)
32… Qc6 {[#] White must now prevent …d4+.} 33. Kg1 $2 (33. f5 $1 $18) 33…
c4 34. Bd1 Be4 35. Qe3 Nd7 {[%cal Og7g5]} 36. Bc2 {Strongly threatening Bxe4.}
Nc5 37. Bxe4 Nxe4 38. Rb2 Nxc3 39. Qxc3 Qc5+ 40. Rf2 d4 41. Qd2 d3 42. Rc1 Rc8
43. Rc3 Qb4 $2 (43… b5) 44. f5 $18 Qxa4 45. e6 Qc6 46. Be5 {White wants to
mate with Qxh6+.} Kh7 47. Rc1 {[%cal Bc3c1,Bc1e1,Be1e3,Be3f3][%mdl 32]} Qc5 48.
Bc3 {White is clearly winning.} b6 49. Re1 Qe7 50. Re3 {And now Re5 would win.}
Rc5 (50… b5 $142 51. Bxa5 Qg5) 51. Ref3 Rb5 52. Kg2 {aiming for Qf4.} Qb7 53.
Qe3 Qd5 (53… Rb3 $142 54. e7 Rg8 55. Bxg7 Rxg7 56. e8=Q Rg5 57. f6 Rbb5 58.
Q8e7+ Qxe7 59. Qxe7+ Kh8) 54. e7 Re8 {[#]} 55. Bxg7 $1 {[%mdl 512]} Kxg7 56.
f6+ Kf7 57. Qxh6 Qg5 58. Qh7+ Ke6 59. f7 Rxe7 60. f8=N+ {Source: Manchester
Guardian, Aug 24, 1905. Weighted Error Value: White=0.43/Black=0.47} (60. Qe4+
$142 Kd7 61. Qb7+ Ke6 62. Rf6+ Ke5 63. Qxe7+ Kd4 64. R6f4+ Qxf4 65. Rxf4+ Kc3
66. Qa3+ Rb3 67. Qc1+ Kb4 68. f8=Q+ Ka4 {[#]} 69. Qfa3+ $3 {[%mdl 512]} Rxa3
70. Qxc4#) 1-0

[/pgn]

In 1906 the British Championship took place in Shrewsbury. Atkins and Michell took the first two places, with Wainwright’s 7/11 giving him a share of third place with Francis Lee, Palmer and Shoosmith. The BCM remarked: The play of … Palmer, Shoosmith, and Wainwright has been specially marked by light and shade. Each lost games through blunders and weak moves, but they have all shared in providing some of the brightest and most interesting chess of the tournament. A comment which could, I suppose, sum up Wainwright’s chess career. His oldest son, George Jnr, took part in one of the Third Class sections but without distinction.

His game against the veteran Blackburne, by now a shadow of his former self, was marked by a finish which would have been worthy of his opponent.

[pgn]

[Event “British CF-03 Championship”]
[Site “Shrewsbury/ Shropshire”]
[Date “1906.08.06”]
[Round “1”]
[White “Wainwright, George Edward Sr”]
[Black “Blackburne, Joseph Henry”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “D26”]
[PlyCount “59”]
[EventDate “1906.08.06”]
[EventType “tourn”]
[EventRounds “11”]
[EventCountry “ENG”]
[SourceTitle “EXT 2017”]
[Source “ChessBase”]
[SourceDate “2016.10.25”]
[SourceVersion “1”]
[SourceVersionDate “2016.10.25”]
[SourceQuality “1”]

{[%evp 11,59,3,22,-11,0,-17,-12,-19,-12,-17,58,7,20,-12,12,-4,1,-17,-9,0,-6,
-19,-3,-53,-13,-125,-28,-87,0,-86,56,65,189,165,211,49,110,57,740,725,723,708,
897,882,29995,29996,29996,29997,29997,29998]} 1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 dxc4 4.
e3 Nf6 5. Nf3 a6 6. Bxc4 b5 7. Be2 $146 {D26: Queen’s Gambit Accepted: 4 e3 e6
5 Bxc5 c5 sidelines.} ({Predecessor:} 7. Bb3 Bb7 8. O-O Be7 9. Ne5 O-O 10. Qe2
c5 11. Rd1 Qc7 12. f4 Nc6 13. Nxc6 Bxc6 14. d5 exd5 15. Nxd5 Nxd5 16. Bxd5 Bxd5
17. Rxd5 {0-1 (56) Burn,A-Janowski,D Barmen 1905}) 7… Nbd7 8. O-O Bb7 {
Against e4} 9. a3 {The position is equal.} Bd6 10. Qc2 Qe7 11. b4 {aiming for
e4.} (11. e4 $5 {[%cal Re4e5]} e5 12. dxe5 Nxe5 13. Nd4 $11) 11… e5 12. Bb2
e4 13. Nd2 {[%cal Od4d5]} O-O 14. Rae1 Rfe8 15. f3 exf3 16. Bxf3 Bxf3 17. gxf3
(17. Rxf3 $5 {[%cal Re3e4]} a5 18. bxa5 $11) 17… Nb6 18. Rf2 Qe6 19. Rg2 {
[%cal Od4d5]} Bf8 20. Nce4 Nxe4 21. fxe4 ({Much worse is} 21. Qxe4 Qxe4 22.
Nxe4 Be7 $11) (21. Nxe4 Nd5 $11) 21… f6 22. Rf1 {Threatens to win with d5.} (
{Worse is} 22. Qxc7 Rac8 23. Qg3 Qa2 $11) 22… Kh8 23. Rf5 $2 ({Don’t take}
23. Qxc7 $6 Re7 24. d5 Rxc7 $16) ({White should play} 23. d5 $18 Qd6 24. e5
Rxe5 25. Bxe5 Qxe5 26. e4) 23… Nc4 24. d5 Qb6 {[%mdl 8192]} (24… Nxe3 $14
25. dxe6 Nxc2 26. Rxf6 Kg8) 25. Nxc4 $18 bxc4 26. Qf2 Rxe4 {[#]} 27. Rxf6 $1 {
[%mdl 512]} Qxe3 {[#]} (27… Qxf6 28. Bxf6) 28. Rxf8+ $1 {[%mdl 576] Remove
Defender, Decoy. White mates.} Rxf8 29. Bxg7+ Kg8 30. Be5+ {[%mdl 64] Sources:
Manchester Guardian, 8 Aug 1906; Times Literary Supplement, 14 Sept 1906; BCM
Sept 1906, p364. Discovered Attack. Weighted Error Value: White=0.49/Black=0.
86} 1-0

[/pgn]

As Autumn arrived it was time for the City of London Club Championship, and it was this tournament that provided George Edward Wainwright with perhaps his greatest success. He ran out a clear winner with 14/17, 2½ points ahead of the runner-up, Shoosmith, with many of London’s leading amateurs trailing in his wake. As well as holding the Gastineau Cup for a year, he received the princely sum of £10 and the championship medal.

Weekly Journal (Hartlepool) 05 April 1907

The news even reached the chess players of Hartlepool, who were informed that he holds a very important official position, and that, according to a leading Chess Master, he is a sporting Chess player of the best type.

George Edward Wainwright had now, in his mid forties, reached the climax of his chess career. Rod Edwards, in his 1907 rating list, gives him a rating of 2407, placing him 71st in the world. Although 100 points or more behind Atkins and Burn, he was one of the strongest of a group of talented English amateurs rated between about 2300 and 2400, all of whom are of interest for both their lives and their games.

Wainwright didn’t have far to travel for the 1907 British Championship in London, where his 6½/11 was enough for a tie for second place with Blackburne, Michell and EG Sergeant behind Atkins. Another outstanding result: press reports remarked on his vivacious and enterprising style.

Here’s how he dispatched Blake.

[pgn]

[Event “British CF-04 Championship”]
[Site “London/Crystal Palace”]
[Date “1907.08.13”]
[Round “2”]
[White “Wainwright, George Edward Sr”]
[Black “Blake, Joseph Henry”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “D05”]
[PlyCount “73”]
[EventDate “1907.08.12”]
[EventType “tourn”]
[EventRounds “11”]
[EventCountry “GBR”]
[SourceTitle “EXT 2017”]
[Source “ChessBase”]
[SourceDate “2016.10.25”]
[SourceVersion “1”]
[SourceVersionDate “2016.10.25”]
[SourceQuality “1”]

{[%evp 13,73,19,20,17,19,6,75,57,93,93,109,101,119,24,30,1,6,-10,0,0,3,-25,0,0,
108,90,277,247,312,75,305,313,472,316,447,456,700,700,690,684,679,684,669,630,
630,405,609,623,634,579,647,648,853,844,900,883,29992,29993,29993,29994,29994,
29995]} 1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 e6 3. e3 c5 4. Be2 Nf6 5. O-O Bd6 6. dxc5 $146 ({
Predecessor:} 6. c4 O-O 7. Nc3 Nc6 8. a3 Ne4 9. dxc5 Nxc3 10. bxc3 Bxc5 11.
cxd5 exd5 12. h3 Bf5 13. Qb3 Rb8 14. Bb2 Be4 15. c4 Bxf3 16. Bxf3 dxc4 17. Qxc4
Qe7 18. Qc3 f6 19. Rac1 Bd6 {1-0 (37) Bonnerjee,M-Cochrane,J Calcutta 1851})
6… Bxc5 7. a3 O-O 8. b4 {D05: Colle System with …e6.} Bd6 9. c4 b6 10. cxd5
{White is better.} exd5 11. Bb2 Bb7 12. Nc3 a6 {Against Nb5} 13. Kh1 Nbd7 {
[%cal Bb8d7,Bd7f8,Bf8g6][%mdl 32]} 14. Qd4 Re8 15. Rad1 Rc8 16. Qh4 Nf8 17. Nd4
Ng6 18. Qh3 Bb8 19. f4 {White is more active. White leaves nothing to chance
now.} Qe7 $2 (19… Bd6 $16 {might work better.}) 20. Nf5 $18 Qe6 {[%cal Od5d4]
} 21. Bf3 $2 (21. Bd3 $1 $18 {Hoping for Ne2.} Ne4 22. Nh6+ $1 gxh6 23. f5 $1
Nf2+ 24. Rxf2 Qxe3 25. Rf3) 21… Rc4 $2 (21… Ne7 $16 22. Nxe7+ Qxe7) 22. Ne2
{[%cal Bc3e2,Be2d4,Bd4f5][%mdl 32]} b5 (22… Bc8 {was worth a try.}) 23. Ned4
Qb6 {[#]} 24. Nxg7 $1 Rxe3 (24… Kxg7 $142 25. Nf5+ Kh8 26. Bxd5 (26. Qh6 Rg8
$18) 26… Bxd5) 25. Ngf5 Bxf4 26. Nxe3 Bxe3 27. Nf5 Bg5 28. Rde1 Kf8 29. Be2
Rf4 (29… Nf4 $142 30. Qb3 Nxe2) 30. Bd3 Bc8 31. Rxf4 Nxf4 32. Qg3 Nxd3 33.
Bd4 {[%cal Og3g5]} (33. Qxg5 {gets mated.} Nf2+ 34. Kg1 Nh3+ 35. Kh1 {[#]} Qg1+
$3 {[%mdl 512]} 36. Rxg1 Nf2#) (33. Qxd3 Qf2 34. Qe2 Qxf5 $17) 33… Qc6 {[#]}
34. Qxg5 $1 {[%csl Gf5][%cal Rg5g7]} Bxf5 (34… Nxe1 35. Bxf6) 35. Qh6+ {
White mates.} ({Weaker is} 35. Qxf5 Nxe1 36. Bxf6 Qc4 $11) 35… Kg8 {[#]} 36.
Bxf6 $1 {[%csl Gf6][%cal Rh6g7]} Nf2+ 37. Kg1 {Sources: The Field, 17 Aug 1907;
Falkirk Herald, Sept 4, 1907; Times Literary Supplement, 6 Sept 1907; BCM,
Sept 1907, p422. Weighted Error Value: White=0.31/Black=0.86} 1-0

[/pgn]

In the 1907-08 City of London Championship he couldn’t quite repeat his success of the previous year, finishing a close third behind Thomas Francis Lawrence (you’ll certainly meet him in a future Minor Piece) and William Ward. He didn’t play in the 1908 British Championship, but continued to compete regularly in club and county matches for both Surrey (qualified by residence) and Yorkshire (qualified by birth). He had also returned to playing in the Anglo-American cable matches.

He didn’t play at the British Championships at Tunbridge Wells in 1908, but he was back again at Scarborough the following year, finishing in midfield

He will be somewhere in this rather splendid group photograph.

In this game he again demonstrated his attacking skills, sacrificing a knight to defeat Liverpool’s Harry Holmes, an aural and ophthalmic surgeon.

[pgn]

[Event “British CF-06 Championship”]
[Site “Scarborough/ North Yorkshire”]
[Date “1909.08.19”]
[Round “10”]
[White “Wainwright, George Edward Sr”]
[Black “Holmes, Harry”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C45”]
[PlyCount “87”]
[EventDate “1909.08.09”]
[EventType “tourn”]
[EventRounds “11”]
[EventCountry “ENG”]
[SourceTitle “EXT 2006”]
[Source “ChessBase”]
[SourceDate “2005.11.24”]
[SourceVersion “1”]
[SourceVersionDate “2005.11.24”]
[SourceQuality “1”]

{[%evp 13,87,-37,-7,-4,-16,-4,-9,-21,7,0,98,91,120,73,98,75,134,67,84,77,472,
458,461,443,527,534,523,548,538,386,394,345,29994,700,865,853,821,828,814,669,
653,677,677,676,661,669,669,669,662,637,662,662,665,640,662,630,638,631,1195,
1172,769,615,596,493,574,561,29985,700,29986,29981,29982,29979,29978,29979,
29979,6523]} 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 exd4 4. Nxd4 Nf6 {[%cal Bg8f6,Bf6d7,
Bd7c5,Bc5d3][%mdl 32]} 5. Nxc6 bxc6 6. Bd3 d5 7. Qe2 Be7 ({But not} 7… Nxe4
8. f3 $16) 8. e5 {C45: Scotch Game.} Nd7 9. O-O Nc5 10. f4 {The position is
equal.} Nxd3 11. cxd3 $146 ({Predecessor:} 11. Qxd3 g6 12. Nc3 Bf5 13. Qe2 Qd7
14. Na4 c5 15. b3 Qc6 16. Bb2 O-O 17. Rae1 {1-0 (55) Mason,J-Brody,M Paris 1900
}) 11… Bc5+ 12. Be3 d4 13. Bc1 {[%cal Be3c1,Bc1d2,Bd2g5,Bg5f6][%mdl 32] Nd2
is the strong threat.} O-O 14. Nd2 Re8 15. Ne4 Bf8 16. Bd2 {White is more
active.} Be6 $2 {[%mdl 8192] Loses the game.} (16… Bf5 $16) 17. f5 $18 Bd5 {
[#]} 18. Bg5 $1 Qd7 {[#]} 19. Nf6+ $1 {[%mdl 512]} gxf6 20. Bxf6 h6 21. Qg4+
Kh7 22. Rae1 {[%cal Ba1e1,Be1e4,Be4g4][%mdl 32]} (22. e6 Bxe6 23. Rf3 (23. fxe6
Qxe6 24. Rf5 Qe3+ 25. Kh1 Qe1+ 26. Rf1 Qe6 $16) 23… Bxf5 24. Rxf5 Rab8 $16)
22… Bxa2 (22… Reb8 $18) 23. e6 (23. Rf3 $142 Rxe5 24. Rxe5 Qxf5 25. Qxf5+
Kg8 26. Rg3+ Bg7 27. Qg4 Kh8 28. Qxg7#) 23… Bxe6 24. fxe6 fxe6 25. Qe4+ Kg8
26. Qg6+ Bg7 27. Re4 {Black must now prevent Rxd4.} ({Weaker is} 27. Bxg7 Qxg7
28. Rxe6 Qxg6 29. Rxg6+ Kh7 30. Rxc6 Rab8 $16) 27… Rf8 28. Rg4 Rf7 29. Qxh6 {
Bxg7 would kill now.} Raf8 30. Rf3 {[%cal Of3g3] White threatens Rfg3! and
mate.} Rxf6 31. Rxf6 Rxf6 32. Qxf6 {[%mdl 4096] Endgame KQR-KQB} e5 33. Qg6 c5
34. Rg3 Qe7 35. h4 {[%cal Bh2h4,Bh4h5,Bh5h6][%mdl 32]} c4 36. h5 {And now h6
would win.} cxd3 37. Qxd3 {Strongly threatening h6.} Kh8 38. Qe4 c5 39. Rg6 {
Hoping for h6.} a5 40. Rc6 (40. h6 $142 Bf6 41. Qf5 Bh4 42. g3 Bg5 43. Rxg5 e4
44. Qc8+ Qe8 45. Qxe8+ Kh7 46. Qg8+ Kxh6 47. Qg7#) 40… Kg8 41. h6 {White
mates.} Bf8 42. Qg6+ Kh8 43. Rc8 c4 44. Re8 {Source: BCM, Sept 1909, p408.
Weighted Error Value: White=0.63/Black=1.02} (44. h7 $142 Qg7 45. Qf5 c3 46.
Rxf8+ Qxf8 47. Qxf8+ Kxh7 48. bxc3 Kg6 49. c4) 1-0

[/pgn]

He had previously finished 3rd in the 1908-09 City of London Chess Club Championship, and, coincidentally, the 1909-10 event saw the same three players taking the first three places: Ward, Blake and Wainwright.

This game, against the problemist Percy Healey, was described by Frederick Winter Markwick, in the Essex Times, as one of the prettiest games I have had the pleasure of watching.

[pgn]

[Event “City of London Championship”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1910.??.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Healey, Percy Ewen”]
[Black “Wainwright, George Edward”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “D08”]
[PlyCount “58”]

{[%evp 10,58,125,34,93,79,165,83,118,56,106,-18,-1,-73,0,-82,99,112,94,-24,-47,
-33,102,50,81,75,71,51,74,60,108,47,60,0,0,-193,-182,-739,-730,-717,-707,-719,
-746,-1081,-1058,-29992,-29993,-29995,-29996,-29996,-29997]} 1. d4 d5 2. c4 e5
3. dxe5 d4 4. a3 Nc6 5. Nf3 Bg4 6. Bf4 {[#]} (6. g3 $16) 6… Qd7 $146 {
D08: Albin Counter Gambit.} (6… Nge7 $14) ({Predecessor:} 6… Nge7 7. Nbd2
Ng6 8. Bg3 a5 9. h3 Bxf3 10. Nxf3 Bc5 11. Qd3 O-O 12. h4 Qe7 13. Qf5 f6 14.
exf6 Rxf6 {1-0 (34) Pillsbury,H-Mieses,J Monte Carlo 1902}) 7. Nbd2 O-O-O (7…
Nge7 $16 {was called for.}) 8. Qa4 (8. h3 $18 Bxf3 9. Nxf3) 8… Qf5 {White is
better.} 9. Bg3 (9. g3 $1 $16) 9… f6 10. exf6 ({White should try} 10. h3 $16
Bxf3 11. gxf3 (11. Nxf3 fxe5 12. b4 e4 $14) (11. exf3 Kb8 $11)) 10… Nxf6 $11
{With the idea …Bd6.} 11. h3 (11. b4 $1 $11) 11… Bh5 (11… Bxf3 $17 12.
gxf3 (12. Nxf3 Ne4 $17) 12… Bd6) 12. Bh2 (12. b4 $1 $11) 12… Qe6 $2 {
Black is much more active. White has bad knights.} (12… Bxf3 $17 {and life
is bright.} 13. gxf3 (13. Nxf3 Bd6 $15) 13… Bd6) 13. g4 $1 $16 Be8 14. Ng5 (
14. Bg2 $1 $16) 14… Qe7 $1 $11 15. Bg2 h6 {[#]} (15… Kb8 $15 {keeps the
upper hand.} 16. Qb3 (16. Nge4 d3 $15) 16… Nxg4 17. hxg4 Qxg5) 16. Nge4 (16.
Ngf3 $1 $16) 16… Nxe4 17. Bxe4 Kb8 18. Qb3 g5 19. O-O-O Bg7 20. Bd5 ({
Better is} 20. f4 $16) 20… Rf8 $14 21. Nf3 ({White should play} 21. Bg3 $14)
21… Qc5 $11 {And now …Rxd5 would win.} (21… Qxe2 $2 22. Rhe1 Qxf2 {[#]}
23. Re7 $3 {[%mdl 512]} (23. Rxe8 Rdxe8 24. Bxc6 Qe3+ 25. Qxe3 Rxe3 $17) 23…
Rxd5 24. Rxc7 $18) 22. Kb1 $2 (22. Qc2 $11 {and White stays safe.}) 22… Bg6+
$19 23. Ka2 $2 {[#]} (23. Ka1 Na5 24. Qb4) 23… Rxd5 $1 {[%mdl 512]} 24. cxd5
{[#]} Bc2 $1 25. Qxc2 Qxc2 26. dxc6 {[#]} Rxf3 $1 {[%mdl 576] Deflection} 27.
exf3 (27. Rd3 Rxf2) 27… d3 {[%csl Gg7][%cal Rc2b2] Black mates.} 28. Rb1 Qc4+
29. Ka1 Qb3 {Weighted Error Value: White=1.10/Black=0.34} 0-1

[/pgn]

In March 1910 he represented the City of London Chess Club against a visiting team from the Dutch Chess Federation, drawing his game on board 3 against Abraham Speijer, The Dutch team fielded the brothers Arnold and Dirk van Foreest on boards 1 and 7. Arnold is the great great grandfather of GMs Jorden and Lucas van Foreest and their sister Machteld.

The 1910 British Championships took place in Oxford, where he again performed well, sharing 4th place on 6½/11, and beating both Blackburne and the up and coming Fred Dewhirst Yates, who tied for second place behind Atkins.

Here’s how Wainwright beat his fellow Yorkshireman. I guess they were half way towards a comedy sketch!

[pgn]

[Event “British CF-07 Championship”]
[Site “Oxford/ Oxfordshire”]
[Date “1910.08.19”]
[Round “5”]
[White “Wainwright, George Edward”]
[Black “Yates, Fred Dewhirst”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “D37”]
[PlyCount “119”]
[EventDate “1910.08.15”]
[EventType “tourn”]
[EventRounds “11”]
[EventCountry “ENG”]
[SourceTitle “EXT 2017”]
[Source “ChessBase”]
[SourceDate “2016.10.25”]
[SourceVersion “1”]
[SourceVersionDate “2016.10.25”]
[SourceQuality “1”]

{[%evp 12,119,-3,-18,8,0,38,0,4,-23,39,-8,-8,-37,37,-14,48,40,73,51,66,16,48,
61,225,210,297,295,306,281,484,363,512,500,494,505,588,619,720,692,853,520,525,
504,507,504,517,512,523,464,453,365,346,298,469,477,476,474,538,529,584,533,
530,389,448,369,474,468,479,438,415,276,287,199,353,96,510,507,450,470,776,730,
880,880,869,596,916,917,915,900,898,895,818,746,814,809,738,685,730,678,683,
599,700,574,1020,976,1202,1202,7226,7226]} 1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. e3 e6 4. c4
Be7 5. Nc3 O-O 6. Qc2 b6 7. b3 $146 ({Predecessor:} 7. Bd3 dxc4 8. Bxc4 Bb7 9.
e4 Nbd7 10. O-O c5 11. Bd3 h6 12. Rd1 Rc8 13. Qe2 cxd4 14. Nxd4 Nc5 {1-0 (72)
Reti,R-Exner,G Szekesfehervar 1907}) 7… Bb7 {D37: Queen’s Gambit Declined: 5
Bf4.} 8. Bb2 Nbd7 9. Be2 Rc8 {The position is equal.} 10. O-O {[%cal Bh1f1,
Bf1d1,Bd1d2,Bd2d4,Bd4c4][%mdl 32]} Ne4 11. Ne5 Nxc3 12. Qxc3 Nf6 13. Bf3 c5 (
13… Ne4 $5 {[%cal Re4c3]} 14. Qc2 Ng5 $11) 14. dxc5 bxc5 15. Rfd1 {White is
more active.} Qc7 16. Rd2 Rfd8 17. Rad1 d4 {White stays focused until the end.}
18. exd4 Bxf3 19. Qxf3 {Hoping for d5.} cxd4 {[#]} 20. Rxd4 $1 Bd6 (20… Rxd4
21. Bxd4) 21. Qe2 Nd5 22. cxd5 Bxe5 {[#]} 23. Rc4 Bxh2+ 24. Kh1 Qb8 25. Rxc8
Rxc8 26. g3 Bxg3 27. Rg1 ({Weaker is} 27. fxg3 Qxg3 28. dxe6 Qh3+ 29. Kg1 fxe6
$18) 27… Qd6 28. Rxg3 Qxd5+ 29. Kh2 g6 30. Rd3 Qf5 {game to this point given
in Manchester Guardian, 20 Aug 1910} 31. Qd2 {Threatening mate with Rd8+.} e5
32. Kg2 Kg7 33. Qe3 {[%csl LRa7,LRe5]} Re8 34. Rd5 f6 35. Qxa7+ Kh6 {aiming
for …Qe4+.} 36. Qe3+ Kg7 37. Qd2 Re7 38. Ba3 Rc7 39. Bc5 Qg4+ 40. Kf1 Qh3+
41. Ke1 g5 42. Be3 {Qd3 is the strong threat.} h5 43. b4 $2 (43. Rd6 $18 {
has better winning chances.}) 43… Qf5 {[%mdl 8192]} (43… h4 $16 {is a
better chance.}) 44. Qd3 $18 {White is clearly winning.} Qg4 45. b5 {[%cal
Bb4b5,Bb5b6][%mdl 32]} e4 (45… h4 $142 46. Qd1 Rc4 47. Rd7+ Kg6 48. Qd3+ Qe4
49. Qxe4+ Rxe4) 46. Qd1 Qe6 47. b6 Rb7 48. Qd4 Kg6 49. Rd6 Qf5 50. Qd5 Qxd5 51.
Rxd5 {[%mdl 4096] Endgame KRB-KR} h4 52. Kf1 f5 53. Kg2 f4 54. Bd4 g4 55. Rd6+
Kf5 56. Rd8 h3+ 57. Kh2 Rh7 {[%cal Oe4e3]} 58. Rf8+ Kg5 59. Rg8+ Kf5 60. Rg7 {
Source: The Times, 22 Aug 1910. Weighted Error Value: White=0.49/Black=0.66}
1-0

[/pgn]

Wainwright wasn’t quite so successful in the 1910-11 edition of the City of London Club Championship, but, now approaching his half century, a slight decline was only to be expected.

Meanwhile, on 2 April 1911 it was time for the census enumerator to call. Let’s see who was at home.

There he was, at 1 St Andrew’s Square, Surbiton, very convenient for the station and trains to London. Very nice it looks, too. George Edward Wainwright and his family seemed to be doing very well for themselves.

He’s described, rather modestly, as a Principal Clerk working for the Local Government Board. His wife is also at home, as are their two middle children. Philip is a business pupil for a photographic requisites supply company, while Constance has no occupation listed. They also have a visitor, 19-year-old Julie Ross from Glasgow, as well as a cook and a housemaid.

George Jnr was following in his father’s footsteps in more ways than one. He had moved to his father’s home town of Ilkley, where he was also working for the Local Government Board, as a district auditor. 16-year-old David, though, had chosen a different career path: he was a naval cadet undergoing officer training in Dartmouth.

Here, having followed George Edward Wainwright through his forties, the busiest decade of his chess career, is a good place to pause.

Come back soon for the third and final episode of the chess career of the man who, although not a member for long, was by far the strongest player in the first Twickenham Chess Club. Our friends at Surbiton can also claim him as one of their finest players.

Ackowledgements:

ancestry.co.uk

findmypast.co.uk

EDOChess – GE Wainwright

Yorkshire Chess History: GE Wainwright

Britbase

Game analysis generated by ChessBase using Stockfish 14.

2022, Biographies, English, Games Analysis, History, Journalism, Minor Pieces, Player, Richard James

Minor Pieces 26: George Edward Wainwright Part 1

February 3, 2022 Richard James 3 Comments

Here’s a match from 1892 between Twickenham Chess Club and the National Liberal Club Chess Club (sounds a bit like Battersea Power Station Station, doesn’t it?).

There are some familiar names among Twickenham’s successful players, but you’ll also see that their strongest player Mr G E Wainwright, an amateur champion of the British Chess Association, was absent.

A name we haven’t seen in other matches, but a very significant one. Players like Ryan, Britten and Fox were strong club players (round about 2000-2200 by today’s standards, I guess, but George Edward Wainwright was a genuine master standard player.

Here he is, from a few years later. Very few photographs seem to have survived.

George Edward Wainwright was born in Redcar, a seaside resort in North Yorkshire, on 2 November 1861. His father, David, was originally a chemist but later became an independent minister of religion. David sadly died before young George reached his first birthday, and the family moved to Bradford, where his mother Annie (Ann Eliza Tetley) worked as a schoolteacher. At some point before the 1891 census they moved north to the spa town of Ilkley, whose Moor is famous in song. (Ilkley is also famous for its splendid new chess centre, one of whose instigators is Andrew Wainwright. I have no idea at present whether or not he’s related.)

George was a pupil at Bradford Grammar School, where, I’d assume, he learnt chess. In June 1880 he represented his school in a match against the Old Boys. He won an exhibition to University College Oxford later that year, and, the following year was awarded a Classical Scholarship involving five years of study.

He was the Treasurer, and later President, of the chess club there and played five times in Varsity matches: on board 6 in 1881 and on board 2 in the subsequent four years. It looks like he improved very rapidly in his first year at Oxford. In March 1882, the University team played a series of matches in which he scored 8½/9, including two wins on top board against the Rev Charles Ranken in a match against former Oxford students.

This game comes from the 1883 Varsity Match. The analysis of all games in this article was produced using Stockfish 14 in ChessBase. Click on any move to display a pop-up board.

[pgn]

[Event “11th Oxford – Cambridge Varsity m”]
[Site “London ENG”]
[Date “1883.03.17”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Wainwright, George Edward”]
[Black “Raymond, Edward Lancelot”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C51”]
[Annotator “Tactical Analysis 5.1 (1s)”]
[PlyCount “73”]
[EventDate “1883.??.??”]
[Source “The Field, 1883”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6
3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 Bb6 5. a4 a6 6. b5 $146 {C51: Evans Gambit: Declined and
Accepted without 5…Ba5.} ({Predecessor:} 6. O-O d6 7. a5 Ba7 8. b5 axb5 9.
Bxb5 Nge7 10. d4 exd4 11. Nxd4 Bd7 12. Nxc6 Nxc6 13. Bb2 O-O 14. Qd5 {1-0 (42)
Minckwitz/Chigorin/Wittek-Schottlaender/Schwarz,J/Schwe Berlin 1881}) 6… axb5
7. Bxb5 Nd4 8. Bb2 {Black is slightly better.} Nxb5 (8… c6 $5 {[%cal Rc6b5]}
9. Bc4 Nf6 10. Nxd4 Bxd4 11. Bxd4 exd4 $15) 9. axb5 (9. Bxe5 {looks sharper.}
Nf6 10. axb5 Rxa1 11. Bxa1 Nxe4 12. O-O) 9… Rxa1 10. Bxa1 d6 {…f5 is the
strong threat.} 11. d4 exd4 12. Nxd4 Ne7 13. O-O O-O 14. Qh5 f5 15. Nd2 Qe8 16.
Qg5 {[%cal Od4e6] Threatens to win with Ne6!} Qf7 {Against Ne6} 17. Nxf5 Nxf5 (
{Inferior is} 17… Bxf5 18. exf5 Nxf5 19. h3 $15) 18. exf5 Bxf5 19. c4 (19.
Nf3 {is more resistant.}) 19… Be6 (19… Bd3 $142 20. Rc1 Bxf2+ 21. Kh1 Re8)
20. Kh1 Qd7 $2 (20… Qg6 $19 21. Qxg6 hxg6) 21. Re1 {[%cal Oe1e6] And now
Rxe6! would win.} Rf7 22. Ne4 {aiming for Nf6+.} Kf8 (22… Bxc4 $2 23. Nf6+
Rxf6 24. Bxf6 $18) 23. Qh4 h6 {[#]} (23… Bf5 $11) 24. f4 $2 {White is more
active.} (24. Nf6 $1 $16 {[%mdl 512]} Qc8 (24… gxf6 25. Qxh6+) 25. f4) 24…
c6 $2 {[%mdl 8192] [#]} ({Don’t take} 24… Bxc4 25. Nf6 Qxb5 26. Ne8 $18) (
24… Ba5 $11 25. Rc1 Qe7) 25. Ng5 $2 (25. Nf6 $1 $18 gxf6 (25… Rxf6 26. Bxf6
gxf6 27. Qxf6+ Bf7 28. Qxh6+ Kg8 29. Qg5+ Kf8 30. f5) (25… Qc8 26. Nh5 Bd8
27. Qg3 Bf6 28. Bxf6 gxf6 29. Qg6) 26. Qxh6+ Kg8 27. Bxf6 Rh7 28. Qg6+ Kf8 29.
Ra1 Bf5 30. Ra8+ Bd8 31. Qg5) 25… Bxc4 $2 {This bishop pair is nice.} (25…
hxg5 $17 {and life is bright.} 26. Qh8+ Ke7 27. Bxg7 Rxf4) 26. Nxf7 $18 {
White is clearly winning.} Bxf7 27. Qg3 {[%csl Ga1][%cal Rg3g7]} Bh5 28. f5 Bd8
29. bxc6 bxc6 30. Re6 d5 31. Rd6 Qc7 {[#]} (31… Bh4 $142 32. Rxd7 Bxg3 33.
hxg3 Bg4 34. Bxg7+ Ke8) 32. Bxg7+ $1 {[%mdl 512]} Ke8 (32… Kf7 33. Bxh6) 33.
Be5 {White threatens Qg8+ and mate.} Qf7 {Inhibits Qg8+.} 34. Rxc6 (34. Bd4
$142 Bc7 35. Qe3+ Qe7 36. Re6 Qxe6 37. Qxe6+ Kf8 38. Qc8+ Be8 39. Qxc7) 34…
Qxf5 {[%cal Rf5f1]} 35. Qg8+ Qf8 36. Re6+ Be7 {[#]} 37. Rxe7+ $1 {[%mdl 512]
Weighted Error Value: White=1.01/Black=1.03} 1-0

[/pgn]

After Oxford, it was time for George to find a job – and a wife. On 7 September 1886 he married Alice Margaret Pictor, from the village of Box, in Wiltshire, six miles or so from the city of Bath. The young couple settled in Chiswick, where their first two children, George Edward junior (1887) and Philip Francis (1889) were born.

Here, from shortly before his marriage, is a game from a club match.

[pgn]

[Event “St George’s v City of London”]
[Site “London ENG”]
[Date “1886.04.04”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Lewis, Frederick Hyman”]
[Black “Wainwright, George Edward”]
[Result “1/2-1/2”]
[ECO “C42”]
[Annotator “Tactical Analysis 5.1 (1s)”]
[PlyCount “113”]
[EventDate “1890.??.??”]
[Source “The Field, 29 May 1886”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. Nxe5
d6 4. Nf3 Nxe4 5. d4 d5 6. Bd3 Nc6 7. O-O Be7 8. a3 {C42: Petroff Defence: 3
Nxe5 and unusual White 3rd moves.} Bg4 {[#]} 9. Be3 $146 ({Predecessor:} 9. Be2
O-O 10. Nc3 f5 11. Ne1 Bxe2 12. Nxe2 Bd6 13. f3 Ng5 14. Bxg5 Qxg5 15. f4 Qe7 {
1-0 (40) City Gouda-City Nijmegen corr 1851}) 9… O-O 10. h3 {The position is
equal.} Bh5 (10… Bxf3 $5 11. Qxf3 f5 $11) 11. Nbd2 $2 (11. c4 $11) 11… f5
$17 {[%cal Bf7f5,Bf5f4][%mdl 32]} 12. Nb3 f4 13. Bc1 Ng5 (13… Qd7 {feels
hotter.} 14. Re1) 14. Be2 Ne4 15. Nh2 Bxe2 16. Qxe2 Bd6 17. Nf3 {Prevents Qg5.}
Qd7 18. c4 (18. Qb5 $5 {[%cal Rb5d5]} Nf6 19. Qd3 $11 (19. Qxb7 $2 a6 $19))
18… dxc4 19. Qxe4 (19. Qxc4+ {looks sharper.} Qf7 20. Qb5 Rfe8 21. Qxb7 Qc4
22. Nc5) 19… cxb3 20. Qd5+ (20. Ng5 Qf5 21. Qe6+ Qxe6 22. Nxe6 Rf6 $17) (20.
Qd3 {is interesting.} Na5 21. Bd2 Qf5 22. Qe2 Nc6 23. Qc4+) 20… Qf7 21. Qxf7+
Rxf7 22. Bd2 a5 {[%cal Ba7a5,Ba5a4][%mdl 32]} 23. Rfe1 Rf5 24. Rac1 a4 25. Bc3
b5 26. Ne5 Bxe5 27. dxe5 Ne7 28. Rcd1 c6 29. Rd7 Nd5 30. Bd4 Re8 31. e6 Ne7 32.
Be5 f3 33. gxf3 {[%cal Bg2f3,Bf3f4][%mdl 32]} (33. h4 $5 {[%cal Rg2g4]}) 33…
Rg5+ 34. Kh2 Nd5 $2 {[%mdl 8192] [#]} (34… Rg6 $17 {and life is bright.
White must now prevent …Nf5.} 35. f4 Rxe6) 35. f4 $1 $18 Rg6 36. f5 Rg5 37.
Rg1 $2 (37. Bd4 $18) 37… Rxg1 $11 38. Kxg1 {[%mdl 4096] Endgame KRB-KRN} Ne7
$1 39. Rc7 ({But not} 39. f6 gxf6 40. Bxf6 Nf5 $17) 39… Nxf5 40. Rxc6 Nh4 {
[#] And now …Nf3+ would win.} 41. Bc3 Nf3+ 42. Kg2 (42. Kf1 $5 {[%cal Rc6c7]}
) 42… Ng5 43. Rb6 Nxe6 44. Rxb5 Nf4+ 45. Kf1 Rd8 46. f3 Rd1+ 47. Kf2 Rh1 48.
Ke3 Ne6 49. Ra5 Rxh3 50. Rxa4 {aiming for Ra7.} g5 51. Rb4 {Strongly
threatening a4.} h5 52. Kf2 {Threatens to win with Kg2.} ({Much weaker is} 52.
Rxb3 g4 53. Rb5 (53. Rb8+ Kf7 $11) 53… Rxf3+ 54. Ke4 h4 $11) 52… Rh2+ 53.
Kg1 Rc2 54. Rxb3 {White wants to play a4.} Nf4 55. Bf6 Kf7 56. Be5 {Hoping for
Bxf4.} Ne2+ 57. Kf1 {White used his chance. Weighted Error Value: White=0.37/
Black=0.40} 1/2-1/2

[/pgn]

George had obtained a clerical job in the Civil Service, working for the Local Government Board, which supervised public health, poor relief and local government, and was also responsible for the registration of births, marriages and deaths. There’s a suggestion in an obituary that he was working on Births, Marriages and Deaths at Somerset House for at least part of his career. I’d assume that some LGB employees would have been based within local government throughout the country, and, if we follow his movements, this might have been the case with George Edward Wainwright.

At some point round about 1890 the family moved to Teddington, and it’s there we find them in the 1891 census. They’re living in a house called St Ronan’s in Kingston Road. This seems to have been next door to the Catholic church close to the junction with Fairfax Road and opposite Normansfield Hospital. (The wonderful theatre is often used as a venue for operas and concerts, and the Museum of Learning Difficulties, well worth a visit, features an information board about Reginald Saunderson.)

As you’d expect, George junior and Philip are there, along with George’s mother Ann, a retired schoolmistress, a 21-year-old cousin named Nelly Fenton and two young servants, Annie Beauchamp and Emily Riley. Although he’s just described as a clerk, he’d already, because of his academic qualifications, be pretty high up and doing well for himself. Alice, of course, was also at home, heavily pregnant with the couple’s only daughter, who would be born that May and given the names Constance Margaret. A third son, David, would be born in 1894.

If George walked back up Kingston Road towards Teddington, he’d soon have what would later become Bushy Park Road on his left (an OS map from a few years later shows it under construction), where, some 40 years later, the Misses Ada and Louisa Padbury would sell ham and beef. A turning on the right a bit further up named Cornelius Road was not at that point built up, but in the 1900s would acquire houses and a new name in honour of the reigning monarch: King Edward’s Grove. It was there that, in the 1920s, one of his future opponents, Edward Guthlac Sergeant, would briefly make his home, and also where the Misses Padbury would move after retiring from their Ham and Beef Stores. Their great nephew would spend the first two years of his life there as well, but that’s another story for another time and place.

George had been very active in chess circles through the later 1880s, most notably winning the British Amateur Championship in 1889. On moving to Teddington, he would have wasted no time joining Twickenham Chess Club. But with a growing family, and, you would imagine, increasing responsibility at work, he played less often during the 1890s, contenting himself with club and county matches.

On 7 April 1894, for example, he was on Board 19 in a 108-board match between the South and North of England, where he drew his game against our old friend (and possibly my distant relation by marriage) Edwin Marriott.

Lots of great names there on both sides, some of whom will be featured later in this series, but Wainwright’s position on board 19 suggests that he wasn’t regarded as any more than a strong amateur at that point. He was still, in 1894, representing Middlesex, but he was soon to move, and to leave Twickenham Chess Club.

By 1895 he was living in Guildford, joining the local club and now representing Surrey in county chess.

This game from a county match demonstrates that George was a player with an enterprising style and considerable tactical ability.

[pgn]

[Event “Surrey v Kent”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1896.12.12”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Wainwright, George Edward”]
[Black “Williams, Grantham”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C14”]
[Annotator “Tactical Analysis 5.1 (1s)”]
[PlyCount “57”]
[Source “Pall Mall Gazette, 15 December 1896”]

1. e4 e6 2.
d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. Bxf6 Bxf6 6. Nf3 a6 7. Bd3 {[#] C14: French:
Classical System: 4 Bg5 Be7 main line.} h6 $146 {[%cal Oc7c5]} (7… c5 $5) ({
Predecessor:} 7… Be7 8. Qe2 dxe4 9. Nxe4 Nd7 10. O-O-O O-O 11. g4 Nf6 12.
Nxf6+ Bxf6 13. h4 Qd6 14. Qe4 g6 {1-0 (27) Mieses,J-Walbrodt,C Berlin 1894}) 8.
O-O c6 9. e5 {White is better.} Be7 {[%cal Bf6e7,Be7c5,Bc5b6][%mdl 32]} 10. a3
c5 11. dxc5 Bxc5 12. b4 Bb6 13. Qe2 Nc6 {And now …Nd4 would win.} 14. Rfd1
Qc7 15. Rac1 {Na4 is the strong threat.} Nd4 (15… Nxb4 {is more complex.} 16.
Nb5 axb5 17. axb4 O-O 18. c3 Bd7) 16. Nxd4 Bxd4 {[#]} 17. Nb5 Bxf2+ 18. Qxf2
axb5 19. Bxb5+ Kf8 $2 {[%mdl 8192] This costs Black the game.} (19… Bd7 $14
20. Bxd7+ Qxd7) 20. c4 $18 dxc4 (20… Kg8 $142 21. cxd5 Qxe5) 21. Rxc4 Qe7 22.
Qb6 {White threatens Rd8+ and mate.} g6 23. Rc7 Qg5 {[#]} 24. Rxf7+ $3 {
[%mdl 512] White mates.} Kxf7 25. Qc7+ Kg8 26. Rd8+ {[%mdl 64] Skewer} Qxd8 27.
Qxd8+ Kh7 28. Qe7+ Kg8 29. Bd3 {Weighted Error Value: White=0.28 (precise) /
Black=0.72} 1-0

[/pgn]

The administrative headquarters of Surrey County Council moved from Newington (Southwark) to the newly built County Hall in Kingston in 1893: perhaps he was involved in some way. It’s also possible his job might have then taken him to Guildford, which would explain the move. Perhaps, though, he was commuting to the capital from nearby London Road station, which had opened in 1885. A train would have taken him directly to Waterloo, from where Somerset House was a short walk across the bridge.

With his family now growing he seems to have had more time for chess, and in 1898, as a result of games like the one below, he had come to the attention of the national selectors, being picked as a reserve for the Great Britain team in their third annual cable match against the United States of America.

[pgn]

[Event “British Chess Club v St George’s CC”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1898.01.22”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Wainwright, George Edward”]
[Black “Jones-Bateman, Ernest”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “D00”]
[Annotator “Tactical Analysis 5.1 (1s)”]
[PlyCount “58”]
[Source “Westminster Gazette, 24 January 1898”]

1. d4 d5 2. e3 e6 3. Bd3 c5 4.
c3 Nc6 5. f4 f5 6. Nf3 Nf6 7. O-O {[#] D00: 1 d4 d5: Unusual lines.} Bd7 $146 (
{Predecessor:} 7… Bd6 8. Ne5 O-O 9. Nd2 Ne4 10. Ndf3 Bxe5 11. Nxe5 Nxe5 12.
fxe5 c4 13. Bxe4 fxe4 14. Rxf8+ Qxf8 {0-1 (60) Pillsbury,H-Halpern,J New York
1894}) 8. Ne5 Be7 9. Nd2 {Black is slightly better.} Nxe5 10. fxe5 Ng4 11. Qf3
cxd4 $2 (11… O-O $15 {stays ahead.}) 12. exd4 $16 Qb6 {aiming for …Nxe5.}
13. Re1 O-O-O 14. b4 {[%cal Bb2b4,Bb4c5][%mdl 32]} h5 {[%cal Oe7b4]} 15. Nb3 g5
16. Bd2 {a4 is the strong threat.} (16. h3 $6 Nh6 $14) 16… Bb5 17. a4 Bc4 {
Loses the game.} ({Black should play} 17… Bxd3 $14 18. Qxd3 Kb8) 18. Nc5 $18
Bxc5 19. bxc5 (19. dxc5 Qa6 $16) 19… Qa6 20. Bxc4 Qxc4 21. Reb1 (21. Bxg5
Rdg8 $16) (21. h3 Nh6 $16) (21. a5 $142) 21… Rdg8 $2 (21… f4 {is a better
chance.} 22. Rb4 (22. h3 Nh6 $16) 22… Qa6) 22. Rb4 {White is clearly winning.
} (22. h3 Nh6 $14) 22… Qa6 23. Rab1 ({Weaker is} 23. h3 Nh6 $16) 23… Rh7
24. c4 ({Not} 24. h3 Nh6 $16) 24… dxc4 25. c6 b6 26. a5 Qxa5 {[#]} 27. Rxb6
$3 {[%mdl 576] Deflection} Qxb6 28. Rxb6 axb6 29. Qa3 {Against Ra7. White
threatens Qa8+ and mate.} Rd8 {Weighted Error Value: White=0.20 (precise) /
Black=0.77} 1-0

[/pgn]

The following year, he was in the team facing a promising young tactician named Frank Marshall.

A long and exciting game ensued, in which our man was perhaps fortunate to escape into a fortress-like draw.

[pgn]

[Event “Match/Nation ENG-USA”]
[Site “Cable”]
[Date “1899.??.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Marshall, Frank James”]
[Black “Wainwright, George Edward Sr”]
[Result “1/2-1/2”]
[ECO “D00”]
[Annotator “ChessBase II”]
[PlyCount “120”]
[EventDate “1899.??.??”]
[EventType “team”]
[EventRounds “1”]
[EventCountry “ENG”]
[SourceTitle “EXT 2002”]
[Source “ChessBase”]
[SourceDate “2001.11.25”]
[SourceVersion “1”]
[SourceVersionDate “2001.11.25”]
[SourceQuality “1”]

1. d4 d5 2. e3 Nd7 ({Predecessor:} 2… e6 3. c4 c6 4. Nc3 Nf6
5. Nf3 Bd6 6. Bd3 Nbd7 7. e4 dxe4 8. Nxe4 Nxe4 9. Bxe4 Nf6 10. Bc2 Bd7 11. O-O
Qc7 12. c5 Bf4 13. Bxf4 Qxf4 14. Ne5 Rd8 15. g3 Qh6 16. Qe2 Bc8 17. Rad1 Qh3
18. f4 {1-0 (38) Berger,J-Albin,A Cologne 1898}) 3. f4 e6 4. Nf3 Ngf6 5. Bd3 c5
6. c3 {D00: 1 d4 d5: Unusual lines.} b6 (6… Be7 7. Nbd2 Rb8 8. Qe2 Qa5 (8…
c4 $5 {[%cal Rc4d3]} 9. Bc2 b5 $11) 9. O-O b5 $2 {[%mdl 8192]} (9… O-O $14)
10. e4 $2 (10. dxc5 $18 b4 11. Nb3) 10… dxe4 $14 11. Nxe4 Nxe4 12. Bxe4 Nf6
$2 ({Black should try} 12… O-O $14) 13. Bd3 $2 (13. Bc6+ $18 Kf8 14. f5)
13… O-O 14. Bd2 (14. f5 $5) 14… Qb6 15. Kh1 b4 $11 {Just,G-Wagner Michel,A/
Erfurt 1973}) 7. O-O Bb7 8. Ne5 {The position is equal.} Bd6 9. Nd2 c4 (9…
cxd4) 10. Bc2 {[%cal Oe3e4]} Qc7 (10… O-O {/\ Re8, Nf8}) 11. Qe2 b5 12. e4
Nb6 {[#]} (12… O-O $2 {[%mdl 8192] 12…Nxe4 0.00}) (12… dxe4) (12… dxe4
$11 13. a4 e3) 13. Nxf7 $1 $18 {[%mdl 512]} Qxf7 14. e5 Bc7 {[%cal Of6e4] …
Ne4! is the strong threat.} (14… Be7 $2 {14…Bc7 1.44}) 15. exf6 gxf6 (15…
Qxf6 $2 {15…gxf6 1.50} 16. f5) 16. Bf5 {White is more active.} Kd7 17. Bh3
Rae8 18. Nf3 Rhg8 (18… Kd8 {/\ Bc8}) 19. Bd2 Bd6 $2 {[#]} ({Better is} 19…
Bc8 $14) 20. Rae1 $2 (20. Ne5+ $1 $18 {[%mdl 512] is the precise move to win.}
Bxe5 21. dxe5) 20… Nc8 $2 {[#]} (20… f5 $16) 21. Ne5+ $1 {[%mdl 512]} Bxe5
(21… fxe5 $2 22. fxe5 Qe7 23. exd6 Nxd6 24. Qh5) 22. fxe5 f5 {[#]} 23. Bg4 {
[%mdl 512] Inhibits h5.} Ne7 (23… Qg7 24. Bh5) 24. Bh5 Ng6 25. Bg5 {Inhibits
Qe7.} Rc8 $2 (25… Bc6 26. g4 Kc7 27. gxf5 exf5) 26. Bf6 {[%cal Of1f5] Hoping
for Rxf5!} Qf8 27. Qd2 {Inhibits Qh6.} Rc6 28. Kh1 Rb6 29. g4 fxg4 30. Bg5 {
[%cal Bf6g5,Bg5h6,Bh6f8,Bf8d6][%mdl 32]} (30. Bxg4 Ne7 $16) 30… Qe8 31. Bh6 {
And now Rf6 would win.} ({Less strong is} 31. Bxg4 Nf8 32. Rf3 Kc7 $16) 31…
Kc7 32. Rf6 ({Not} 32. Bxg4 Ne7 33. Bg5 b4 $16) 32… Bc8 33. Ref1 Kb8 34. Bf8
Rb7 (34… b4 $142 35. Bxb4 Qa4) 35. Bd6+ Ka8 {[#]} 36. Rf8 $3 {[%mdl 512]}
Rxf8 (36… Qxf8 37. Bxf8) 37. Rxf8 Qxf8 38. Bxf8 Nxf8 39. Qg5 Bd7 40. Qe7 Rb8
41. Bxg4 Kb7 {[#]} 42. Bxe6 $1 {[%mdl 512]} Nxe6 43. Qxd7+ {[%mdl 4096]
Endgame KQ-KRN} Nc7 44. Qxh7 Rf8 45. h4 (45. Kg2 $142) 45… Rf2 46. h5 Rxb2
47. h6 $2 (47. Qh6 $18 {and White stays clearly on top.}) 47… b4 $16 48. cxb4
{[%cal Ob4b5] Threatens to win with b5!} c3 49. Qd3 c2 50. Qxc2 Rxc2 51. h7
Rxa2 (51… Rc1+ $2 52. Kg2 $18) 52. h8=Q $11 {KQ-KRN} Re2 53. Qf8 a6 54. Qc5
Re4 55. Kg2 Rg4+ 56. Kf2 Rf4+ 57. Ke3 Re4+ 58. Kd3 Re1 59. Kd2 Re4 60. Kc2 Re2+
{Black escapes into a draw. Weighted Error Value: White=0.42/Black=0.45}
1/2-1/2

[/pgn]

It seems that, by now in his late 30s, George Edward Wainwright was approaching the peak of his powers over the chessboard.

The 1901 census located the family in the parish of Stoke next Guildford. George, described as a Principal for the Local Government Board, and Alice were at home, along with their three youngest children, George’s mother, a governess to help look after the youngsters, a cook and a housemaid. George junior, meanwhile, was boarding at Pilgrim House School, Westerham, Kent.

We’ll leave him there for the time being, a senior civil servant working for the Local Government Board, a family man, and an English international chess player renowned for his dashing attacks.

The story of George Edward Wainwright’s life and chess career will be continued in the next Minor Piece.

If you want more, and, if you enjoy attacking chess or British chess history you certainly should, historian Gerard Killoran, who lives in Wainwright’s home town, Ilkley, is currently working on a biography. I can’t wait to read it.

Sources:

ancestry.co.uk

findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Collection

MegaBase 2022

EDO historical chess ratings (Rod Edwards)

Yorkshire Chess History (Steve Mann)

chessgames.com

BritBase

2021, Amazon Publishing, Books, Games Analysis, Games Collection, History, Reviews

Memorable Games of British Chess

November 11, 2021 John Upham 1 Comment

From the back cover:

A collection of the classic games of British chess, including one or two which, though truly memorable, are by no means masterpieces; with a few more included by way of a little light relief. We shouldn’t be serious all the time, even at the chess board.

Neil is a retired county court judge who, after living in Bedford for over 40 years and playing for Bedford (and on Bedfordshire on occasions when they got desperate), now lives near Norwich and plays for Wymondham chess club.

Before going further please take this opportunity to Look Inside.

Despite being published in 2019 BCN was recently offered a copy of Memorable Games of British Chess and was unable to resist the chance to review this self-published Amazon book from Neil Hickman, a friend of Jim Plaskett.

The book is a paperback and of a size making it physically easy to read. Unlike some Amazon published efforts the paper is of decent quality (not yellowing) and the printing is clear. The diagrams are frequent and excellent of a decent size. Each diagram has a [Position after 24.0-0] type caption.

Many of you will be familiar with

British Chess Masters, Past and Present, Fred Reinfeld, George Bell and Sons Ltd., London, 1947.

and

A Treasury of British Chess Masterpieces, Fred Reinfeld, George Bell and Sons Ltd., 1950

and

British Chess, Pergamon Press, 1983. Editors : GS Botterill, DNL Levy, JM Rice and MJ Richardson, ISBN 0 08 024134 4

and especially

The English Chess Explosion (from Miles to Short), Murray Chandler & Ray Keene, Batsford, 1981, ISBN 0 7134 4009 0

which highlight successes by British chess players.

The authors book presents ninety OTB and correspondence games (which is a nice touch) covering the period 1788(!) to 2016 and selecting just this number must have been challenging to say the very least. Confidence in the book is derived early from a truly excellent List of Sources demonstrating an academic and studious attitude to the job in hand.

Each game is prefaced by background information on the game, venue, circumstances and details of the players all of which is most welcome. The book started well since the first game Bowdler-Conway, London, 1788 was unknown to myself. Instantly memorable however since Thomas Bowdler caused the creation of the verb “Bowdlerise” and the game was one of the very first recorded double rook sacrifices that is also discussed in the charming

Take My Rooks, Seirawan and Minev, International Chess Enterprises, 1991, 1-879479-01-X

To give you some idea of the annotations here we have game 66, Ligterink-Miles, Wijk aan Zee, 1984:

[pgn]
[Event “Wijk aan Zee”]
[Site “Wijk aan Zee”]
[Date “1984.??.??”]
[Round “2”]
[White “Ligterink, Gert”]
[Black “Miles, Anthony John”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “B00”]
[Annotator “Neil Hickman”]
[PlyCount “34”]
[EventDate “1984.??.??”]
[SourceTitle “Memorable Games of BritisH Chess”]

{[%evp 0,34,19,29,37,13,63,84,71,73,78,93,86,78,78,69,105,66,56,55,53,21,35,32,
42,11,7,-2,-3,-22,-38,-337,-368,-527,-507,-533,-486] Writing mournfully on the
Internet after Miles’ premature death, Geoff Chandler of Edinburgh Chess Club
drew attention to this little gem, which does not feature in the anthology of
Miles’ own writings “It’s Only Me”. The finish involves something truly
special. Sources: ChessBase; www.chessedinburgh.co. uk.} 1. e4 Nc6 2. Nf3 d6 3.
d4 Nf6 4. Nc3 Bg4 5. Bb5 a6 6. Bxc6+ bxc6 7. h3 Bh5 8. Qe2 e6 9. g4 Bg6 10. Bg5
(10. Nh4 d5 11. Nxg6 hxg6 12. Bg5 Be7 13. Bxf6 gxf6 $5 {was Hulak-Miles, 1982.
While Miles eventually lost that game, he had missed a clear win towards the
end of it, so it is not too surprising that he is happy to repeat the opening
line. Ligterink is the first to deviate.}) 10… Be7 11. O-O-O h6 12. Bf4 Qb8
13. Kb1 Qb4 14. Bc1 Rb8 {[#] The position is about even, with Black’s two
bishops and open b-file probably worth slightly more than White’s position in
the centre. White now makes the mistake of trying to be too clever. If he
could fianchetto his QB, that would strengthen his position. But there is a
problem with doing that – the c3 knight would be hanging. Ligterink recognises
this, but sees that if Black greedily grabs the knight…} 15. b3 $2 Qxc3 $3
16. Bd2 {…his Queen gets trapped. And if Black tries to rescue the situation
with} Nxe4 {White simply retreats the bishop with} 17. Be1 {[#] , maintaining
the attack on the queen. What is Black to do now?} O-O $3 {This amazing quiet
move, which Miles must have seen before taking the knight, emphasises that
White is completely helpless. Black will simply play …c5 and extricate his
queen, remaining a piece to the good. Computers will tell you that 17…Nd2+
was “better”. But the same computers will tell you that other moves would have
done just as well as 25…h6!! in Sämisch-Nimzowitsch, Copenhagen 1923, the
“Immortal Zugzwang Game”. Miles’ choice was the artistic one. And Ligterink
acknowledged his opponent’s genius by resigning. What is so wonderful about
the final position, I think, is that as in Sämisch-Nimzowitsch the Black win
is so clear that even an amateur like me can work it out – but most of us
could never have seen it coming, and would never even have thought to look.}
0-1[/pgn]

A wonderful finish to be sure.

and secondly we have Game 58 played in Luton in 1976 between Viktor Korchnoi and Peter Montgomery:

[pgn]
[Event “Simul, Luton”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1976.01.21”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Korchnoi, Viktor”]
[Black “Montgomery, Peter”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “C36”]
[Annotator “Neil Hickman”]
[PlyCount “30”]
[EventDate “1976.??.??”]
[SourceTitle “Memorable Games of British Chess”]

{[%evp 0,30,19,31,34,-42,-13,-29,-13,1,8,21,28,6,9,-24,9,15,23,14,-2,12,-21,-7,
-7,-71,-1,-342,-326,-457,-456,-458,-465] This game is included as a tribute to
the little guys. It appeared in B H Wood’s column in the Daily Telegraph, and
was excavated by Mark McCready in his excellent chess blog. You might suppose
from some of the games in this collection, such as Penrose-Tal (Game 46) and
Speelman-Short (Game 70), that mastery of the opening was the most important
thing in the game. This game shows that even having helped to write the “book”
doesn’t necessarily guarantee safety from upsets. After playing at Hastings in
1976, Viktor Korchnoi, one of the finest players never to become World
Champion, gave a simultaneous display over 32 boards at Luton. He won 30 of
the games and drew another. But in the remaining game… Sources: J Gallagher,
Winning with the King’s Gambit; P Keres, Dreispringerspiel bis Konigsgambit; V
Korchnoi & V Zak, The King’s Gambit; Mark McCready in https://mccreadyandchess.
com; N Macdonald, The King’s Gambit, A modern view of a swashbuckling opening;
B H Wood in The Daily Telegraph.} 1. e4 e5 2. f4 {Korchnoi and Zak had written
a well-received book on the King’s Gambit.} exf4 3. Nf3 d5 $1 {Some argue that
3…g5 is theoretically the best answer to the King’s Gambit, but this defence
is the safest if Black isn’t too sure what he is doing…} 4. exd5 Nf6 {
…as Peter Montgomery engagingly confessed was the case. “I am not very
familiar with the King’s Gambit,” he said afterwards. “I played the game by
ear.”} 5. c4 {Writing in 1998, Neil McDonald goes so far as to suggest that
the only playable moves for White are 5 Bc4 and 5 Bb5+. But 5 c4 is the first
option Keres gives in Dreispringerspiel bis Königsgambit.} c6 $1 {For someone
playing an unfamiliar opening by ear, Montgomery isn’t doing badly.} 6. d4 cxd5
{Keres argues that 6… Bb4+ is more accurate, not giving White the chance to
play 7 c5. He quotes two games Keres-Schmidt, Salzburg 1942, and
Johannessen-Jimenez, Leipzig 1960, both of which ended in draws.} 7. c5 Be7 8.
Bxf4 O-O 9. Nc3 Nc6 10. Bb5 Bg4 ({Jimenez played} 10… Nh5) 11. O-O {[#]} Ne4
$1 12. h3 ({Deviating from} 12. Qa4 Bxf3 13. gxf3 Ng5 14. Bg3 (14. Bxc6 Nh3+
15. Kh1 bxc6 16. Bg3 Qd7 {and Black stands better}) 14… Ne6 {as in
Tolush-Averbakh, Leningrad 1959. Black got the better of that game and won in
40 moves. So it is understandable that White looks for an “improvement”.})
12… Bxf3 13. Rxf3 $4 {[#]} ({“Amazing. He forgets his own book” remarked
Wood. But did Korchnoi forget the book, or was he seeking to improve on a game
which White lost?} 13. gxf3 Ng5 {is an inferior version of Tolush-Averbakh –
White’s queen is less active and the h-pawn is hanging. But White’s still in
the game.}) {Now, as I repeatedly observe elsewhere, there was nobody leaning
over to Black at this position murmuring “There’s a win for you in this
position, all you have to do is find it”. Peter Montgomery has to find the
self-belief to look for the winning move, the imagination to discover it, and
the courage to play it.} 13… Nxd4 $3 {Peter Montgomery plays the move of his
life, and Korchnoi resigns on the spot. After} 14. Rf1 (14. Qxd4 Bxc5 {pins
the Queen of course.}) 14… Nxc3 15. Qxd4 Nxb5 {the Knight dances away to
safety and Black is simply a piece to the good with White having no
compensation at all. Note that although he could surely have given Montgomery
Knight odds, Korchnoi sportingly acknowledged that he had been outplayed and
did not seek to play on after losing the piece.} 0-1
[/pgn]

also delightful in its own modest way.

The other 88 games all have their own significance including games of historical significance covering many of the greats with detailed articles on this review web site.

The author clearly has done his homework and a nice touch is the listing for each game of where in the literature it had been previously annotated. The notes are chatty and friendly and not spoilt by reams of dull engine analysis. It was delightful to find mentions of British players who rarely get a mention such as Edward Jackson, Thomas Lawrence, Francis William Viney of the General Post Office, Herbert Francis Gook of HM Customs, Harold Saunders and Kenneth Charlesworth to name but a few.

Of course, the old favourites are given the treatment including Alekhine-Yates, Capablanca-Thomas, Bronstein-Alexander, Penrose-Tal etc plus our modern heroes such as Michael Adams, Luke McShane, Gawain Jones, David Howell, Julian Hodgson, Nigel Short and John Nunn.

I particularly like the annotations which include those from other notable authors and sources and in summary, this is a charming book that would make an excellent coffee table book for any chess enthusiast and you won’t be disappointed.

Please add it to your Christmas list!

John Upham, Cove, Hampshire, 11th November, 2021

You can buy the book on Amazon via here

Publisher: ‎ Independently published (3 September 2019)
Language: English
Paperback: 271 pages
ISBN-10: 1794053565
ISBN-13 : 978-1794053564
Dimensions: 17.78 x 1.83 x 25.4 cm

2021, Biographies, Composer, Composition, Games Analysis, History, Journalism, Minor Pieces, Richard James

Minor Pieces 15: Oliver Harcourt Labone

October 25, 2021 Richard James 2 Comments

There are a few chess players who, while not being outstanding exponents themselves, achieved immortality through a flash of inspiration. Saavedra is one example, and another is the subject of this article: Oliver Harcourt Labone.

Liverpool Weekly Courier 11 December 1886

You might have seen something like this before, either this position or a similar position published by Lasker ten years later. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you the answer. (Spoiler: it involves an underpromotion.)

Problemist Steven Dowd posted this on the BCN Facebook page, asking for more information about Labone.

There’s a lot to tell about a man who lived an eventful life, so do come along for the ride. It’s a rather extraordinary story.

Let’s take you back to the Central Criminal Court on 20 August 1861. A solicitor named Richard Austwick Westbrook was accused of manslaughter. He was a divorcee boarding with a lady named Jane Janette Cathrey, whose husband was had emigrated to Australia: both Richard and Jane, who were probably having an affair, had a reputation for being hot-headed and violent. During an argument Richard threw a knife across the table, hitting Jane in the abdomen and causing her death. A hearing in a magistrates’ court earlier in the month had found him guilty of manslaughter, but now the prosecution offered no evidence, believing it was an accident, and Richard walked free. Sounds like a combination of toxic masculinity and male privilege to me. Perhaps it affected his business, though, as he was declared bankrupt two years later.

Richard Austwick Westbrook had been born in Reading in 1815. In 1841 he married Hannah Grant Stiles. They had four children, but she died in 1852, and in 1855 he married Anne Topley at St Paul’s Church, Hammersmith. In 1857, a son, Rowland Martin Westbrook, was born, followed in 1858 by Oliver Harcourt Westbrook. It seems they split up shortly after Ollie’s birth and he went to live with Jane Cathrey. His petition for divorce was granted in 1860, naming a man called Demetrio as co-respondent. In 1862 he married a third time and had two more children.

Meanwhile, there was a Clement Leslie Dalba born in Brentford in 1860 (mother’s maiden name Mesina). There’s no other record of him, or of anyone else in the area with any of those names, so my best guess is he was the Clement Claude Leslie Labone we’ll meet later. The name Demetrio, along with Dalba and Mesina, suggests an Italian connection, so I suspect he was the son of Nicholas Demetrio and Anne Topley, and his birth had been registered using false names.

At some point in late 1860 or early 1861, Nick, Anne and the three boys moved to Glasgow, happy to escape Richard’s hot temper, and, to avoid detection, changed their name to Labone. Rowland’s middle name was also changed, from Martin to MacDonald: you can’t get much more Scottish than that. She also seems to have changed her maiden name from Topley to Copley, and sometimes added Mary in front of Anne.

In the 1861 Scottish census he’s Nicholas Labone, aged 28, living in a boarding house in Glasgow, but described as a Landed Proprietor. In 1862, a daughter, Flora Adelina, was born to Nick and Anne. Nick set up in business as a Professor of Languages, teaching French, German and Italian, but, just like Richard, ran into financial problems and, in 1863, was declared bankrupt. In 1865, a son, Gregory, was born, but sadly died the same year. In 1866 Nick’s publishers were trying desperately to unload 155 copies of his book A French Verbary.

In 1871 Ollie is away at school, but we find Nick, a Professor of Languages, living with his wife Annie M Labone, and two other sons, Rowland M (15) and Leslie C (12). Flora doesn’t seem to be around. Flora would later marry and have a family. Rowland died in his 40s, never apparently marrying or having a job, which suggests some sort of health problem. All I can find out about him is that in 1876 he was looking for a job as a lay evangelist. We’ll return to Clem/Les later.

Nicholas Labone/Demetrio, when he wasn’t teaching languages and writing books, was, it turns out, a chess player. He was very much involved with the Glasgow Chess Club in the early 1870s, both as a player and an administrator. He must have taught the game to Ollie and Clem. Nick and Anne’s marriage doesn’t seem to last. They both move down to Lancashire. Nick, now known as Nicholas Demetrio again, remarried in Barrow-in-Furness in 1882. There’s also a Demetrio who played in chess matches between Manchester and Liverpool in the early 1880s, who, I assume, was Nick. According to a rate book from 1890, he was still in Manchester, living in poverty. In 1891, Annie, claiming to be a widow born in Derby, was living with Rowland in Liverpool.

For the moment, though, we need to follow Ollie. We next pick him up in 1879, now living in Liverpool, where a public notice informs us that he’s no longer working for John Gibbs & Son, Ironfounders and Export Agents. At some point after Nick’s death the family seems to have moved from Glasgow to Liverpool. By 1881, he’s in Manchester, where he married Emily Etchells, the daughter of a Methodist preacher, and at the time of the census the young couple have just set up home together in Salford. Ollie is now described as a Commercial Traveller.

In 1883 he first makes his mark in the chess world, submitting a problem to the Illustrated London News. In 1884 he’s playing for Manchester, and, the following year in Stourbridge, Worcestershire. Over the next few years he’s active in Birmingham and Liverpool, along with half-brother Clem. In 1886 the position that would send his name around the world was published: quite an achievement for the young man.

Here’s a game from 1886.

[pgn]

[Event “Liverpool Chess Club”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1886.08.20”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Wellington, Samuel”]
[Black “Labone, Oliver Harcourt”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “C59”]
[Annotator “Richard”]
[PlyCount “74”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. Ng5 d5 5. exd5 Na5 6. Bb5+ c6 7. dxc6 bxc6 8.
Be2 h6 9. Nf3 e4 10. Ne5 Qd4 11. f4 Bc5 12. Rf1 Qd8 13. c3 Nd5 14. Qa4 Qh4+ 15.
Kd1 O-O 16. Qxa5 Bb6 17. Qa4 Rd8 18. d4 (18. Kc2 $16) 18… exd3 19. Bf3 d2 20.
Bxd5 dxc1=Q+ 21. Kxc1 Be3+ 22. Kc2 Rxd5 (22… cxd5 $19) 23. Qxc6 (23. Qe4)
23… Bf5+ 24. Kb3 Rb8+ 25. Ka4 Qd8 26. b4 Rxe5 27. Kb3 Rc5 28. Qf3 Qd3 (28…
Rxb4+ 29. cxb4 Qd3+ 30. Ka4 Qc2+ 31. Ka3 Ra5+ 32. bxa5 Bc5#) 29. Qd1 Rxc3+ 30.
Nxc3 Be6+ 31. Kb2 Rxb4+ 32. Qb3 Bxb3 33. axb3 Qd2+ 34. Ka3 Qxc3 35. Rab1 Bd4 (
35… Rb6 36. Ka2 Ra6#) 36. Rfc1 Rxb3+ 37. Rxb3 Qa5# 0-1

[/pgn]

And Problem 1, a mate in 3 from The Field 1 Jan 1887:

[fen]8/2p5/2pkp1K1/3pN3/B7/4N3/3P3Q/R3B2n w – – 0 1[/fen]

(Solutions to problems are at the end of the article)

Two games from 1888:

[pgn]

[Event “North End v Imperial”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1888.01.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Whitby, L E.”]
[Black “Labone, Oliver Harcourt”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “C65”]
[Annotator “Richard”]
[PlyCount “86”]
[EventDate “1947.??.??”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. Qe2 d6 5. c3 Bg4 6. O-O Be7 7. d3 O-O 8. Be3
Nd7 9. d4 (9. h3 $14) 9… exd4 (9… f5 10. exf5 e4 11. Qc4+ Kh8 12. d5 Nce5
13. Nxe5 Nxe5 14. Qxe4 a6 15. f4 Bxf5 16. Qd4 Bf6 17. fxe5 Bxe5 18. Qd2 axb5
$15) 10. cxd4 f5 11. Bxc6 (11. h3 fxe4 12. hxg4 exf3 13. gxf3 $16) 11… bxc6
12. Qc4+ d5 13. exd5 Nb6 14. Qb3 Bxf3 15. gxf3 (15. d6+ Bd5 16. dxe7 Qxe7 17.
Qa3 $15) 15… cxd5 16. Nc3 f4 17. Bd2 Nc4 18. Qc2 Rb8 (18… Bd6 19. b3 Qg5+
20. Kh1 Qh5 21. bxc4 Qxf3+ 22. Kg1 Qg4+ 23. Kh1 f3 24. Rg1 Qh3 $19) 19. b3 Nxd2
20. Qxd2 Bb4 21. Qd3 Rb6 22. Kh1 Bxc3 23. Qxc3 Qh4 24. Rg1 Qxf2 25. Rg2 Qe3 26.
Qxc7 Qxd4 (26… Rg6 27. Rxg6 hxg6 28. Rf1 Kh7 29. Qe5 $17 (29. Qxa7 Qe2 $19))
27. Rag1 g6 28. Qc2 Qf6 29. Rd2 Qf5 30. Qxf5 Rxf5 31. Rgd1 Rd6 32. Kg2 Kf7 33.
Re1 Kf6 34. Re8 d4 35. Rd3 Re5 36. Rxe5 (36. Rf8+ Kg5 37. h4+ Kxh4 38. Rxf4+
Kg5 39. Rdxd4 Re2+ 40. Kg3 Rxd4 41. Rxd4 Rxa2 $15) 36… Kxe5 37. Kf1 g5 38.
Kg1 Rc6 39. Rd2 Rc3 40. Kf2 d3 41. b4 Kd4 42. a4 Rc2 43. Ke1 Ke3 0-1

[/pgn]

I can find no adult male with a name anything like L E Whitby anywhere near Liverpool in 1888 or anywhere else any other time, yet he is often mentioned in chess columns. Can anyone help?

[pgn]

[Event “Liverpool North End v Southport”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1888.02.04”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Blumberg, Henry”]
[Black “Labone, Oliver Harcourt”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “C67”]
[Annotator “Richard”]
[PlyCount “74”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. O-O Nxe4 5. d3 Nf6 6. Bxc6 dxc6 7. Nxe5 Bd6
8. f4 O-O 9. h3 Bxe5 10. fxe5 Qd4+ 11. Kh1 Qxe5 12. Nc3 Nd5 13. d4 Qe7 14. Nxd5
cxd5 15. Qh5 f5 16. Bg5 Qb4 (16… Qf7 $15) 17. c3 (17. Rae1 $14) 17… Qxb2
18. Rae1 Qxc3 (18… Qb6 19. Re7 Be6 $11) 19. Re7 Qxd4 20. Rf4 (20. Rf3 Qb6 21.
Rg3 $18) 20… Qb6 21. Qf3 (21. Rf3 Qg6 22. Qh4 Be6 23. Rg3 Rf7 24. Bf4 Qf6 25.
Qxf6 Rxf6 26. Rgxg7+ Kf8 27. Rxc7 Rf7 28. Rxh7 Rxh7 29. Rxh7 $11) 21… Be6 $19
22. Rh4 Qb1+ (22… Rf7 23. Rxf7 Bxf7 24. Qxf5 Qg6 $19) 23. Kh2 Bf7 24. Qg3 (
24. Bf6 gxf6 25. Qg3+ Kh8 26. Rxh7+ Kxh7 27. Qh4+ $11) 24… Qb6 $19 25. Rh6
Bg6 (25… gxh6 26. Bf6+ Bg6 27. Rg7+ Kh8 28. Rf7+ Qxf6 29. Rxf6 Rxf6 $19) 26.
Qe5 Rf7 27. Re6 Qb5 28. Be3 Qd7 29. Bd4 c6 30. h4 Qc7 31. Rd6 Re7 32. Qg3 Rf8
33. Be5 Rxe5 34. Qxe5 Re8 35. Qg3 f4 36. Qxf4 Re6 37. Rxg6 hxg6 0-1

[/pgn]

The 1891 census tells us that, now a commission agent, he’s moved to Wolverhampton, along with Emily and their children Walter, Leonard and Marie. Another son, Oliver Martyn, had died at the age of only 4 months the previous year.

But in 1893 the family’s world was turned upside down. Ollie was up before the law, accused of embezzlement from his business partner, one Enoch Howard, found guilty and sentenced to a month’s hard labour. Naughty Ollie!

Undaunted, though, the following year he took up a new hobby: giving simultaneous displays against weaker clubs. Over the next 20 years or so he travelled the country, possibly connected with his job as a travelling salesman in machine oils, giving simuls wherever he went and gaining a national reputation as an expert simul giver. In 1894 it was Northampton, in 1896 it was Norwich.

He spent much of 1896 playing a match for the Staffordshire Championship with the Reverend John H Robison of Walsall, which he won easily, winning 10 games and drawing 2. In 1898 he faced a more formidable opponent for the county title: Charles William Draycott. Ollie only managed one draw from the first three games, but eventually scored 10 wins and 3 draws to his opponent’s 7 wins.

Here’s the final game of the match:

[pgn]

[Event “Staffordshire Championship”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1898.??.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Draycott, Charles William”]
[Black “Labone, Oliver Harcourt”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “C54”]
[Annotator “Richard”]
[PlyCount “77”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. O-O Bc5 5. c3 Nxe4 6. d4 d5 7. Bb5 exd4 8.
cxd4 Bd6 9. Nc3 Nxc3 10. bxc3 O-O 11. Qc2 Ne7 12. Bd3 f5 (12… h6 $17) 13. Bg5
c6 14. Rfe1 Qc7 15. Ne5 (15. h4 h6 16. Bxe7 Bxe7 17. c4 dxc4 18. Bxc4+ $44)
15… Bxe5 16. Rxe5 Ng6 17. Re2 h6 18. Bd2 Bd7 19. Rae1 b5 20. a3 Rf6 21. g3
Raf8 22. Bc1 R8f7 23. Kh1 (23. a4 bxa4 24. c4 $44) 23… c5 24. Qb1 Qb6 25. Be3
c4 26. Bc2 Rf8 27. Bd2 f4 28. Bxg6 Rxg6 29. Bxf4 Bf5 30. Qc1 Be4+ 31. Kg1 Qf6
32. Rxe4 dxe4 33. Rxe4 Qf5 34. Qe3 Kh7 35. Be5 Ra6 36. g4 Qg6 37. h4 Rxa3 38.
h5 Qc6 39. f3 {Sealed move} 0-1

[/pgn]

Against Lasker (it’s not clear at the moment whether this was a casual game or a simul, and exactly where it took place), he played an unambitious opening and a passive middlegame.

[pgn]

[Event “Casual game”]
[Site “Birmingham ENG”]
[Date “1898.12.02”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Labone, Oliver Harcourt”]
[Black “Lasker, Emanuel”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “C80”]
[Annotator “Richard”]
[PlyCount “88”]
[EventDate “1898.??.??”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. O-O Nxe4 6. Re1 Nc5 7. Nxe5 (7.
Bxc6 dxc6 8. Nxe5 $11) 7… Nxe5 8. Rxe5+ Be7 $15 9. Nc3 O-O 10. d4 Nxa4 11.
Nxa4 d6 12. Re1 Qd7 13. Nc3 Bf6 14. Be3 Qf5 15. Ne2 Bd7 16. Ng3 Qg6 17. h3 Bh4
18. Kh2 f5 19. Bf4 Qf7 20. Qd2 h6 21. Nf1 Bf6 22. Bg3 g5 23. f4 Kh7 24. Rac1
Bc6 25. c4 Be4 26. Re2 (26. fxg5 hxg5 27. Bf2 $15) 26… Qh5 27. Rf2 Rg8 28.
Kg1 Rg7 29. c5 d5 30. Rc3 Rag8 31. Bh2 Qg6 (31… gxf4 32. Bxf4 Rxg2+ 33. Rxg2
Rxg2+ 34. Qxg2 Bxg2 35. Kxg2 Qe2+ 36. Kg1 Bxd4+ $19) 32. Rg3 h5 33. h4 g4 34.
Rb3 Bxh4 35. g3 Bf6 36. Rxb7 Re7 37. Qc3 Qg7 38. Rd2 Rge8 39. Ne3 Kg6 40. Nc2
Bf3 41. Rb4 Re2 42. Rxe2 Rxe2 43. Ne1 Qe7 44. Nxf3 Rg2+ 0-1

[/pgn]

In 1901, still a commission agent, but working on his own account, he was living at Ivy Side, Rookery Road, Handsworth, West Bromwich with Emily, Len and Marie, Walt having left home. He was playing a lot of chess, but not playing Happy Families. There were clearly domestic problems of some sort, and, just a few months later, Emily and Marie set sail for New Zealand, as far away as possible from poor Ollie. Marie, would die a few years later, but Walt and Len would later join her with their families. She later married again, perhaps to a younger man she met on board ship, but there’s no evidence that she and Ollie were divorced.

Meanwhile, Ollie had found himself another woman, in fact another Emily, Emily Yates. (Every one was an Emily, ‘e wouldn’t ‘ave a Lily or a Pam.) She had been born in 1877 in Heywood, Lancashire, so perhaps they’d met on one of his visits to Manchester or Liverpool. Perhaps Emily Mark 1 had had enough of his constant travelling, or of his chess addiction. Or perhaps it’s just one of the oldest stories around: a middle-aged man is attracted to a younger woman. A son, Cyril, was born in Norwich in 1903, and another son, Douglas, in Leicester in 1905.

Here’s Problem 2: Mate in 3 from the Illustrated London News 15 Dec 1906.

[fen]1b6/2Np4/2p2P2/2k5/p1N2P2/P2p4/3Q4/K7 w – – 0 1[/fen]

A game from this period:

[pgn]

[Event “Staffordshire Sentinel 27 July 1907”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1907.??.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Labone, Oliver Harcourt”]
[Black “Davies, A E.”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “B01”]
[Annotator “Richard”]
[PlyCount “41”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 d5 2. exd5 Qxd5 3. d4 e5 4. Nf3 exd4 5. Nxd4 c5 (5… Bb4+ 6. c3 Bc5 $11)
6. Qe2+ Be7 7. Nb5 $18 Na6 8. N1c3 Qe6 9. Be3 (9. Bf4 Qxe2+ 10. Bxe2 $18) 9…
Nf6 10. Qf3 (10. O-O-O O-O 11. Bf4 $18) 10… O-O 11. Bd3 c4 (11… Bd7 $11)
12. Nd4 (12. Be2 $16) 12… Qb6 13. Nf5 Qxb2 (13… Bc5 $19) 14. Nxe7+ Kh8 15.
Bd4 (15. O-O Qxc3 16. Bf5 $11) 15… cxd3 (15… Qxa1+ 16. Kd2 Qxh1 17. Qxf6
Qxg2 18. Bg6 Rg8 19. Qxf7 Be6 20. Qxe6 Rgd8 $19) 16. Qxf6 Rg8 17. Qxf7 Be6 18.
Qxe6 Qxa1+ 19. Kd2 Qxh1 {White announced mate in 2 here.} 20. Ng6+ hxg6 21.
Qh3# 1-0

[/pgn]

Yes, we seem to have found ourselves back in Leicester again, and, of course, Ollie soon threw himself into the chess life of the city, playing in matches and giving simuls, but also visiting Liverpool in 1909 to take part in a blindfold simul against Blackburne. In 1911 they’re in New Bridge Street, not very far from what was then Filbert Street but is now the King Power Stadium. He’s a Commercial Traveller in Oils, while Emily Yates is a Housekeeper. (This was a common euphemism in census returns, but sometimes employers did have affairs with their housekeepers. Ten years later, for example, South Warwickshire farmer Thomas Woolley had an affair with his housekeeper while his wife was in the lunatic asylum. Pretty despicable, you might think, but if he hadn’t done so, you wouldn’t be reading this article today.)

Here’s the Blackburne game, which doesn’t make a very good impression. He misplayed the opening and never stood a chance. You get the impression he was a strong attacking player, but when facing top level opposition he curled up into a ball and defended weakly. As it happens, one of his relations was a much better defender.

[pgn]

[Event “Blindfold Simul, Liverpool”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1909.??.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Blackburne, Joseph Henry”]
[Black “Labone, Oliver Harcourt”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C01”]
[Annotator “Richard”]
[PlyCount “47”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. exd5 exd5 5. Bd3 Bd6 6. Nf3 a6 (6… O-O $11) (
6… Nc6 $11) 7. O-O Be6 8. Ne2 O-O 9. Ng3 Re8 10. Bg5 Nbd7 11. Re1 Nf8 (11…
h6 12. Bh4 c5 13. Nf5 Bf8 $11) (11… c5 $11) 12. Ne5 Ng6 (12… h6 $14) 13. f4
$18 Bc8 14. Qf3 h6 15. Bxf6 Qxf6 16. Nh5 Qd8 (16… Qh4 {Threat: B/Nxe5 and Bg4
} 17. h3 $18) 17. Nxg6 fxg6 18. Bxg6 (18. Qxd5+ Kh8 19. Qf7 $18) 18… Rxe1+
19. Rxe1 Be7 20. f5 Qd6 21. Qe3 Bf8 22. Qe8 b5 23. Qf7+ Kh8 24. Re8 1-0

[/pgn]

A game from his time in Leicester:

[pgn]

[Event “Warwickshire v Leicestershire”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1911.??.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Burgoyne, Frederick John”]
[Black “Labone, Oliver Harcourt”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “B01”]
[Annotator “Richard”]
[PlyCount “102”]
[EventDate “1947.??.??”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 d5 2. exd5 Qxd5 3. Nf3 Nf6 4. Nc3 Qa5 5. d4 c6 6. Bd3 Bg4 7. O-O e6 8. h3
Bh5 9. a3 Be7 10. Bf4 Nbd7 11. Ne4 O-O 12. Ned2 Qd8 13. c4 c5 14. Qb3 (14. Re1
$11) 14… cxd4 15. Ne5 Nc5 16. Qc2 Bd6 17. Rae1 Qc7 18. g4 Bg6 19. Bxg6 hxg6
20. b4 Ncd7 21. Ndf3 Nxe5 22. Nxe5 Nd5 23. Bg3 f6 (23… b5 24. c5 f6 25. Nxg6
Bxg3 26. fxg3 Qxg3+ 27. Qg2 Qxg2+ 28. Kxg2 $19) 24. Qxg6 (24. Nxg6 Bxg3 25.
Nxf8 Bh2+ 26. Kg2 Rxf8 27. Qe4 $15) 24… Ne7 25. Qh5 fxe5 (25… Bxe5 26. f4
Bxf4 27. Bxf4 Qxc4 $19) 26. c5 Bxc5 27. bxc5 Qxc5 28. Rxe5 Qxa3 29. Rxe6 Rad8
30. Qg5 (30. Rfe1 Rd7 31. g5 d3 32. g6 $18) 30… Nc6 31. h4 (31. Rh6 d3 32.
Qg6 d2 33. Qh7+ Kf7 34. Qg6+ $11) 31… Qf3 32. h5 Rd5 33. Qg6 d3 34. h6 Qf7
35. Bd6 (35. hxg7 Qxg7 36. Qe4 Rd4 37. Qe3 Rxg4 38. Qxd3 $15) 35… Qxg6 36.
Rxg6 Rf7 37. f4 d2 38. Rd1 Rd7 (38… Nd4 $19) 39. Bf8 Kh7 (39… Kxf8 40. h7
Kf7 41. Rxc6 (41. h8=Q Kxg6 $15) 41… Rd8 42. Rc2 $11) 40. hxg7 Kg8 41. Rh6
Rxg7 42. Bxg7 Kxg7 43. Rh2 Nd4 44. Rf2 (44. Kf2 Nb3 45. Rh3 Na5 46. Rh5 $18)
44… a5 45. Kf1 Nb3 46. Ke2 (46. Rf3 a4 47. f5 $11) 46… a4 47. Ke3 (47. Rh2
a3 48. Rdh1 a2 49. Rh7+ Kf8 50. Rh8+ Kf7 51. Ra8 $11) 47… a3 48. Ke4 Rd4+ 49.
Ke3 a2 50. Rff1 Ra4 51. Ke2 Nc1+ 0-1

[/pgn]

It wasn’t long before he was on the move again. By 1913 he was in Blackpool, where his sons would be baptised the following year.

Problem 3, another mate in 3, was published in the Illustrated London News on 9 October 1915.

[fen]8/1p6/p2N3R/r2k4/b1p1R3/2p1B2K/2P5/b7 w – – 0 1[/fen]

While his family settled down by the Lancashire coast, he was back on the road, spending some time in Devon and Cornwall, and, of course, giving simuls. He was back in Exeter in 1918, where he played Plymouth champion Thomas Taylor.

[pgn]

[Event “Devon County CA m”]
[Site “Exeter ENG”]
[Date “1918.10.05”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Labone, Oliver Harcourt”]
[Black “Taylor, Thomas”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C29”]
[Annotator “Richard”]
[PlyCount “45”]
[EventDate “1918.??.??”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d5 4. fxe5 Nxe4 5. Nf3 f5 (5… Be7 $11) (5… Bc5 6.
d4 Bb4 $11) 6. d3 Nxc3 7. bxc3 Nc6 8. d4 Be7 9. Bd3 O-O 10. O-O Be6 11. Qe1 Nb8
12. Qg3 c5 13. Bh6 Rf7 14. dxc5 Bxc5+ (14… Qd7 $16) 15. Kh1 Be7 16. Nd4 Qd7
17. Bxf5 Bxf5 18. Rxf5 Bh4 19. Qxh4 Rxf5 20. e6 Qa4 21. Qg3 g6 22. Nxf5 Nc6 23.
Qc7 1-0

[/pgn]

In February 1920 he was writing to the Illustrated London News from Belfast, and, a few moths later, he was in Barrow-in-Furness.

[pgn]

[Event “Barrow-in-Furness (ILN 10-07-1020)”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1920.??.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Paterson”]
[Black “Labone, Oliver Harcourt”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “B01”]
[Annotator “Richard”]
[PlyCount “70”]
[EventDate “1947.??.??”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 d5 2. exd5 Qxd5 3. Nc3 Qa5 4. d4 c6 5. Bd2 Qc7 6. Bc4 Nf6 7. Nf3 Bg4 8.
h3 Bh5 9. g4 Bg6 10. Ne5 e6 11. Bf4 Bd6 12. Qe2 Nbd7 13. Bxe6 Bxe5 (13… O-O-O
14. Nxg6 hxg6 15. Bxd6 Qxd6 16. Bxd7+ Rxd7 17. O-O-O $16) 14. Bxd7+ Qxd7 15.
Qxe5+ (15. Bxe5 $18) 15… Qe7 (15… Kf8 16. Qd6+ Qxd6 17. Bxd6+ Kg8 18. O-O-O
$16) 16. O-O-O Qxe5 17. Bxe5 O-O 18. Bxf6 gxf6 19. f4 f5 20. Rde1 Rfe8 21. Re5
f6 22. Rc5 fxg4 23. hxg4 Rac8 24. Ra5 a6 25. Kd2 (25. Rd1 $16) 25… Rcd8 26.
Ne2 Bxc2 27. g5 Be4 28. Rh3 f5 29. Re5 Rxe5 30. fxe5 c5 31. Ke3 b6 (31… Bb1
32. Rh4 Rd5 $11) 32. Rh6 Bb1 33. Rxb6 (33. dxc5 bxc5 34. Rxa6 $18) 33… cxd4+
34. Nxd4 (34. Kd2 Bxa2 35. Rxa6 Bc4 36. Rf6 $14) 34… f4+ 35. Kxf4 Rxd4+ {
Black won about 20 moves later.} 0-1

[/pgn]

Problem 4, mate in 3 Illustrated London News 17 Sep 1921:

[fen]1n6/1PPp3p/pp1N1R2/r2k2p1/b3R1P1/1p4p1/1P4K1/6B1 w – – 0 1[/fen]

At that point it seems he settled down in Blackpool, now running an advertising agency of sorts. In 1925 he was still submitting problems and games for publication in the Illustrated London News.

Problem 5, mate in 3 Illustrated London News 9 May 1925

[fen]4Q3/1p2K1p1/b2Bp3/p2k2P1/N1Rp2Np/6p1/p2P4/2n5 w – – 0 1[/fen]

[pgn]

[Event “Blackpool Central v Preston”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1925.??.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Labone, Oliver Harcourt”]
[Black “Marsden, Thomas”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C11”]
[Annotator “Richard”]
[PlyCount “61”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. e5 Nfd7 5. Nf3 c5 6. Be2 cxd4 7. Qxd4 Bc5 (7…
Nc6 $11) 8. Qg4 g6 9. O-O Nc6 10. Qg3 Qc7 11. Bf4 Nd4 12. Bd3 Nxf3+ 13. Qxf3
Nxe5 14. Qg3 (14. Bb5+ Kd8 15. Bg5+ Be7 16. Qf4 Rf8 17. Bxe7+ Kxe7 18. Rad1 $16
) 14… Bd6 (14… f6 15. Rae1 O-O 16. Rxe5 fxe5 17. Bxe5 Qf7 18. h4 $16) 15.
Rae1 Nf3+ 16. Qxf3 Bxf4 17. Nxd5 Bxh2+ 18. Kh1 Qd6 19. Nf6+ Kf8 20. g3 Bxg3 21.
fxg3 Qd8 22. Be4 Rb8 23. Qf4 Ra8 24. Qh6+ Ke7 25. Qh4 Kf8 26. Rd1 Qc7 27. Qh6+
Ke7 28. Bxg6 Bd7 29. Be4 (29. Ng8+ Rhxg8 30. Rxf7+ Kd8 (30… Ke8 31. Rg7+ hxg6
32. Rxg8+ Ke7 33. Qg7#) 31. Rf8+ Ke7 32. Qg5+ Kxf8 33. Qf6#) 29… Bc6 30. Qg7
Bxe4+ 31. Nxe4 1-0

[/pgn]

Perhaps he just had time to see this game in print before, beset by financial problems, he decided to take his own life.

Lancashire Evening Post 30 November 1925

His son Cyril would also have an unhappy life, and by 1939 was in a mental hospital, described as a pianist. He died in 1947 at the age of 43.

So that was the sad end of Oliver Harcourt Labone, chess addict, player, problemist and simul giver, indefatigable writer to chess columnists. He must have been a troubled man throughout his life. Did his passion for chess help him through his darkest days, or was it one of the causes of his problems, not leaving him enough time for his work and family? It seems like several members of his family were beset by mental health probems, so my guess would be the former.

Oliver Harcourt (Westbrook) Labone, this was your life.

But it’s not the end of our story. Let’s return to Ollie’s probable half-brother Clement Claude Leslie/Clement Leslie/Leslie Clement, who, as we’ve seen, was also a chess player, but at a lower level. He had a much less eventful life, in spite of job changes. He was a schoolmaster in 1891, a book-keeper in 1901 and a mercantile clerk (which might, I suppose, involve book-keeping) in 1911. He was active as a club player between 1885 and 1894, annotating a consultation game in 1891. After that, I suppose, family life and work took over. He remained in Liverpool all his life, living in West Derby in 1891 and 1901, and in Everton in 1911. If you were following football in the 1960s the names Labone and Everton will be inextricably linked. Any connection?

Clem married Fanny Price and had four children, the oldest of whom, born in 1887, was also named Clement Claude Leslie Labone, and, by 1939, had become a Dining Room Proprietor. He married Edith Birch and had three sons, the middle one of whom was named Arthur Leslie Labone. Arthur, in 1939 a Lead Merchant’s Travelling Agent (sounding not unlike great uncle Ollie) married an Irish girl named Bridget (Patricia) Rice. Their son was indeed Brian Leslie Labone (1940-2006), the Everton and England footballer, who, unlike his great great uncle, excelled at defending. He wasn’t the only footballer in the family: his uncle Harold played as a centre forward for Aston Villa.

There’s more yet. When I posted about the connection between Ollie and Brian on Twitter, my good friend John Foley replied that he was also related to Brian Labone (verified by DNA), whose mother’s maiden name was Foley. So Brian Labone, assuming Clem senior and Ollie were indeed blood relations, was related to chess players on both sides of his family.

It’s a small world, as you’ll find out when we return to Twickenham for future Minor Pieces.

Solutions to problems:

Problem 1:

1. Qh4 Kc5 (1… Ng3 2. d4 c5 3. Qd8#) (1… Kxe5 2. d4+ Kd6 3. Qd8#) ( 1… d4 2. Nxc6 d3 (2… e5 3. Qe7#) (2… Kc5 3. Qxd4#) 3. Qd4#) 2. Qb4+ Kxb4 3. d4#

Problem 2:

1. Nd6 Kxd6 (1… Bxc7 2. Qe3+ Kxd6 3. Qe5#) (1… Kd4 2. Qf2+ Kc3 3.
Qb2#) (1… Kb6 2. Qa5+ Kxa5 3. Nc4#) 2. Qa5 Bxc7 (2… c5 3. Qb6#) 3. Qe5#

Problem 3:

1. Nb5 (1. Rhe6 Bd7) 1… Kxe4 (1… Bxb5 2. Rhe6 Bc6 3. R4e5#) (1…
Rxb5 2. Rhe6 Rb1 3. R4e5#) (1… Bxc2 2. Rhe6 Bxe4 3. Nc7#) (1… Bb3 2. Rhe6 Bxc2 3. R4e5#) (1… axb5 2. Rhe6 b4 3. R4e5#) 2. Re6+ Kf3 3. Nd4# 1-0

Problem 4:

1. Rh6 Bc6 (1… b5 2. c8=Q b4 (2… Nc6 3. Qg8#) 3. Qc4#) (1… Nc6 2.
c8=Q Ne5 (2… Nd4 3. Qc4#) (2… b5 3. Qg8#) 3. Rd4#) (1… Rc5 2. Rd4+ Ke5 (2… Kc6 3. c8=R#) 3. Nf7#) (1… Rb5 2. Rd4+ Kc5 3. Ne4#) (1… Bb5 2. Rd4+ Kc5 3. Ne4#) 2. c8=N Bxb7 3. Ne7# 1-0

Problem 5:

1. Qh5 {Threats: 2. Ne5 and 3. Qf3#, 2. Ne3+ dxe3 3. Nb6#} Kxc4 (1…
Bxc4 2. Nf6+ gxf6 (2… Kc6 3. Qf3+) 3. Qf3#) (1… Ke4 2. Ne5 g2 (2… Kf4 3. Qg4#) 3. Qf3#) (1… g2 2. Ne3+ (2. Rc5+ Ke4 3. Nf2#) 2… dxe3 3. Nb6#) (1… e5 2. Qf7+ (2. Nxe5 g2 3. Qf3#) 2… Ke4 3. Nc5#) 2. Ne5+ Kb5 (2… Kb3 3. Qd1#) (2… Kd5 3. Qf3#) 3. Qe8# 1-0

Biographies, Games Analysis, History, Minor Pieces, Player, Richard James

Minor Pieces 8: Cliff Bridle

August 26, 2021 Richard James 1 Comment

John Upham recently chanced upon a 1947 game in which an otherwise unknown English player, C Bridle, defeated former World Championship challenger Bogoljubov in a 1947 tournament in Flensburg, Germany.

I’d come across the game myself many years ago, in Fred Reinfeld’s 1950 anthology A Treasury of British Chess Masterpieces, and wondered about C Bridle, a name I hadn’t encountered elsewhere. At some point, perhaps from a magazine article somewhere, I’d seen his first name given as Cliff. A few years ago, now with access to online genealogy records and newspaper archives, I decided to do some research.

We all know who Efim Bogoljubov (1889-1952) was, though. He’s in so many inter-war tournament photographs: the corpulent, beer-swilling figure in the front row, genial and self-confident. “When I’m white I win because I’m white”, he said, “when I’m black I win because I’m Bogoljubov.” It’s easy to forget that, throughout the 1920s and early 1930s he was one of the world’s strongest players, although no match for the mighty Alekhine in two world championship matches. Even in the final years of his career, after World War 2, he was still a formidable opponent. So how come he lost to an otherwise unknown adversary?

It’s well worth looking at the game. I also asked my silicon chum Stockfish 14 to comment on Reinfeld’s annotations. Needless to say, he(?) wasn’t impressed. Stocky v Freddy: let battle commence.

1. d4 e6
2. c4 f5

Stocky, who, sadly for me as a long standing devotee of that opening, doesn’t think much of the Dutch Defence, would aware this a ?!.

3. Nf3 Nf6
4. g3 b6?!

A ? from Freddy, another ?! from Stocky.

5. Bg2 Bb7
6. O-O Be7
7. Nc3

Stocky suggests that White can, and should, play the immediate d5 here: 7. d5! exd5 8. Nd4 g6 9. cxd5 Bxd5 (9… Nxd5 10. Bh6) 10. Bxd5 Nxd5 11. Nxf5)

7… Ne4
8. d5 Nxc3
9. bxc3

Freddy correctly opines that Black has chosen a bad opening, but adds that the fianchetto of the queen’s bishop is generally avoid because of the possibility of d5. A strange comment, as the Queen’s Indian Defence is, and was back in 1950, perfectly respectable. The idea of d5 in this sort of position would, I think, have been considered fairly advanced knowledge at the time. I guess the ever optimistic Bogo was gambling on his inexperienced opponent not knowing this. If White just plays developing moves, it’s very easy for Black to play move like Ne4, g5, g4, Qh4 and get an automatic attack.

9… O-O
10. Nd4

Threatening d6 as well as dxe6.

10… Qc8?

Freddy and Stocky agree that this deserves a question mark. Freddy suggests that Black should play 10… e5 when White should retreat his knight with advantage because of the poorly placed bishop on b7. Stocky continues this with 11. Nb3 d6 12. c5 (a thematic tactic: 12… bxc5 13. Nxc5 dxc5 14. Qb3 regaining the piece) 12… a5 13. c6 Bc8 with only a slight advantage for White. He also thinks Black could consider the pawn sacrifice 10… Bd6 11. dxe6 Bxg2 12. Kxg2 Qe7 13. exd7 Nxd7 with some compensation.

11. e4 c5
12. Ne2 Bf6
13. Qd3 Na6
14. exf5 exf5

[fen]
r1q2rk1/pb1p2pp/np3b2/2pP1p2/2P5/2PQ2P1/P3NPBP/R1B2RK1 w – – 0 15
[/fen]

15. g4!?

Freddy gives this a shriek mark: ‘instinctive and strong’. Stocky is not so convinced, meeting it with 15… Nb4! to drive the queen away. White might then consider the exchange sacrifice 16. cxb4!? Bxa1 17. Bf4 Bb2 18. Rb1 Bf6 19. g5 Be7 20. Ng3 d6. He thinks White could have maintained a winning advantage by playing a move like Bf4 or h4 rather than trying to force the issue.

15… fxg4
16. Be4 g6
17. Ng3!?

Freddy claims 17. Bxg6 is premature. Again, Stocky begs to differ, analysing 17. Bxg6! hxg6 18. Qxg6+ Bg7 19. Bh6 Rf7 20. Ng3 Qf8 21. Nh5 Rf6 22. Qxg7+ Qxg7 23. Bxg7 Rf3 24. Rae1 Rh3 25. Re5 Rxh5 26. Rxh5 Kxg7 27. f3 with a winning advantage because Black’s queen side pieces are still out of play)

17… Kg7?

No comment from Freddy, but a question mark from Stocky, who thinks Qe8 was Black’s only defence.

18. Bf4 Nc7
19. Rae1 Ne8

[fen]
r1q1nr2/pb1p2kp/1p3bp1/2pP4/2P1BBp1/2PQ2N1/P4P1P/4RRK1 w – – 0 20
[/fen]

20. Nh5+!!

Double shriek mark from Freddy. This time Stocky agrees. Stocky is happy with Freddy’s analysis of 20… gxh5 21. Bh6+!!, but points out that the more prosaic 21. Bxh7! is equally good. Some variations:

20… gxh5 21. Bxh7 (21. Bh6+ Kxh6 22. Bxh7 Kg5 (22… Kg7 23. Qg6+ Kh8 24. Bg8) (22… Rg8 23. Bxg8 Nd6 24. Qh7+ Kg5 25. h4+ Kxh4 26. Kg2 Kg5 27. f4+ gxf3+ 28. Kxf3 Qxg8 29. Rg1+ Kh4 30. Rh1+ Kg5 31. Rxh5#) 23. f4+ gxf3 24. Qg6+ Kh4 (24… Kf4 25. Qg3#) 25. Qg3#) 21… Kh8 22. Qg6 d6 23. Qxh5 Qc7 24. Bf5+ Kg8 25. Bh6 Ng7 26. Qg6

20… Kf7
21. Nxf6 Nxf6
22. Bd6 Re8
23. f4?

Stocky tells me this throws away most of White’s advantage: he should be opening the position rather than closing it, so 23. f3 was called for, when Black has nothing better than g3 in reply.

23… Nxe4
24. Rxe4 Rxe4
25. Qxe4 Qe8
26. Qd3 Qg8?

Moving the queen off the critical e-file. 26… Kg8 was the most tenacious defence, but Freddy didn’t notice.

27. f5 g5

[fen]
r5q1/pb1p1k1p/1p1B4/2pP1Pp1/2P3p1/2PQ4/P6P/5RK1 w – – 0 28
[/fen]

28. f6?!

Pushing the passed pawn too soon, giving the black queen access to g6. White has two winning ideas here, according to Stocky. He wants to capture on g4 before Black has time to start counterplay with h5. Perhaps the simpler option is:

28. Qe4! Qe8 (28… Re8 29. Qxg4 and Black’s kingside will soon collapse) 29. Be5 Rd8 (now the e-file is sealed White can continue in similar fashion to the game) 30. f6 Qg8 31. Bd6 Re8 32. Qe7+ Rxe7 33. fxe7+ Kg6 34. Rf8 and wins.

The second path to victory is:

28. Qg3! h5 (28… Ba6 29. Qxg4 Re8 30. Qh5+ Kf6 31. h4 Bxc4 32. Qh6+ Kf7 33. hxg5) when White has the spectacularly beautiful 29. Be7!! with elements of both interference (on the e-file) and clearance (on the diagonal). Play might continue 29… Kxe7 (29… Re8 30. Qd6 Rxe7 31. f6 Re3 32. Qxd7+ Kg6 33. f7 Qf8 34. Qf5+ Kh6 35. Qf6+ Kh7 36. Qxg5 Rf3 37. Qxh5+ Qh6 38. Qxh6+ Kxh6 39. Rxf3 gxf3 40. f8=Q+) 30. Qc7 Ba6 (30… Qf7 31. f6+ Kf8 32. Rf5 Re8 33. Qd6+ Kg8 34. Rxg5+ Kh8 35. Rg7 Qf8 36. Qf4) (30… Bc8 31. Re1+ Kf7 32. Qd6 Qg7 33. Re7+ Kf8 34. Rxg7+ Kxg7 35. Qe7+ Kh6 36. Qf7 h4 37. Qg6#) 31. Re1+ Kf8 32. Qd6+ Kg7 33. Re7+

28… Qg6??

A Bogo booboo, missing Cliff’s 30th move. Instead, he could have equalised by occupying the e-file first. After 28… Re8, with Qg6 to follow, everything, according to Stocky, is about equal. (28… Re8 29. Qf5 (29. Be7 Qg6 30. Qg3) 29… Bc8 30. Qxg4 Qg6)

But Freddy was asleep and let both players’ 28th moves pass without comment.

29. Qe3 Re8
30. Qe7+! Rxe7
31. fxe7+ Kg7
32. Be5+ Kh6
33. Rf6 1-0

‘A very attractive game’, according to Freddy. An interesting but inaccurate game according to Stocky. You might, I suppose, see it as a classic example of bishops of opposite colours favouring the attacker in the middlegame, and note that Black’s queenside pieces were offside.

You should also look at some of the tactics, especially 29. Be7!! in the note to White’s 28th move.

It’s still mightily impressive for an unknown amateur to beat a top grandmaster with a brilliant queen sacrifice.

Congratulations, Cliff!

But who was Mr Bridle, anyway, and what was he doing in Flensburg? Perhaps he was just enjoying a summer holiday. It seems that Cliff spent most of his life in the shadows. Let’s have a look and see what we can find out.

Clifford Bridle was born in Weymouth, Dorset on 11 February 1914. His father was George Bridle, originally from Wareham, who had divorced his first wife in 1910 and married Susan Jane Smith in 1912. Cliff had an older sister, Greta, and two younger brothers, Jack and Victor, as well as a half sister, Sarah Bessie. The 1911 census reveals that George was a house decorator. Not the sort of comfortable upper middle-class background you’d expect from a strong chess player, but the world was changing. Before World War 1, chess had been, at least at higher levels, very much associated with the comfortably off, but in the inter-war years the game was broadening its demographics, and players from working class backgrounds could sometimes be found playing at higher levels.

We pick Cliff up for the first time as a chess player in 1932, where he was playing correspondence chess for his home county. He also started playing over the board, and, in April 1933, the Western Morning News pointed out that he’d won every game he played for Dorset, while lamenting the lack of an inter-club competition in his county. There was an individual county championship, though, and Cliff, one of the young ones, reached the final, where he lost to Swanage schoolmaster Bennett William Wood. The Western Gazette (23 June 1933) reported that “Mr. Bridle, who is only 18 years of age, is to be congratulated on the excellent fight he made for the championship. Congratulations again, Cliff. In those days the county champion got to play top board the following season, so Cliff didn’t quite make Number One.

He continued to play county chess, usually on about board 9 or 10, throughout the 1930s. The 1939 Register found him, a bachelor boy, living with his mother and brothers at 13 Milton Road, Weymouth. He was following in his father’s footsteps, working, like his brother Jack, as a house decorator and glazier, while young Victor seemed to be moving up in the world, having found clerical work with an estate agent. Cliff’s date of birth is given incorrectly as 11 July 1914. And then the trail goes dead, until 1947, when he turned up in Flensburg.

Here’s Wikipedia on Flensburg:

Flensburg is an independent town in the north of the German state of Schleswig-Holstein. Flensburg is the centre of the region of Southern Schleswig. After Kiel and Lübeck, it is the third largest town in Schleswig-Holstein.

In May 1945, Flensburg was the seat of the last government of Nazi Germany, the so-called Flensburg government led by Karl Dönitz, which was in power from 1 May, the announcement of Hitler’s death, for one week, until German armies surrendered and the town was occupied by Allied troops. The regime was effectively dissolved on 23 May when the British Army arrested Dönitz and his ministers – the dissolution was formalized by the Berlin Declaration which was progmulated on 5 June.

The nearest larger towns are Kiel (86 kilometres (53 miles) south) and Odense in Denmark (92 km (57 mi) northeast). Flensburg’s city centre lies about 7 km (4 mi) from the Danish border.

The 3rd Royal Tank Regiment was based there on behalf of the British Army of the Rhine (BAOR) between 1945 and 1948, and CHESS, reporting the tournament, described Bridle as being of the BAOR. I can find nothing in online Forces records, so perhaps he was working for them in a civilian capacity. Maybe they needed a glazier to replace the broken windows. Not a summer holiday for Cliff, then.

The tournament was led by three prominent masters, while locally based players finished lower down. The final scores, according to BCM, were: Bogoljubov, 8.5; Enevoldsen (Copenhagen) and F. Sämisch 8; Nürnberg (Augsburg), 7; Sepp (Estonia), 5.5; H. Gomoluch (Flensburg), 5; Clausen (Denmark), 4; P. Gomoluch (Flensburg), 3.5; C. Bridle (England) and Kornbeck (Denmark), 2.5; Borgaa (Denmark), 0.5.

Cliff Bridle was 33 at the time, no longer a young one, so hardly, at least by today’s standards, the ‘youthful unknown’ described by Reinfeld. His win against Bogo attracted some attention and was published by ME Goldstein in the Chess Review, Sydney. This was in turn picked up by the Hastings and St Leonards Observer, who copied it on 28 August 1948.

Did he take up tournament chess on returning to England? Seemingly not very much. However, he ended up not all that far from my part of the world.

In 1954, the BCF published its second national grading list, and there, in category 4b, which would later become 185-192, or about 2100 in today’s money, is C Bridle of Wimbledon. So he must have been playing some competitive chess in the early 1950s. No sign of him in 1955, though.

In 1964 he suddenly appeared on the electoral roll, living, apparently on his own, at 147 Worple Road, Wimbledon, a road I know very well. It runs parallel with the railway line between Raynes Park and Wimbledon, therefore taking me to Wimbledon Chess Club for Thames Valley League matches. Was he still a bachelor boy? Perhaps not, in 1965, the last year for which London electoral rolls are currently available online, he’s been joined by Karen Bridle. Who was Karen? His wife? His daughter? Karen, originally a Danish name, only became popular in the English speaking world in the 1940s. I can’t find a marriage record for Cliff or a birth record for Karen, so, as we know he spent time in Flensburg, near the Danish-German border, perhaps he married there. I found an online tree with a Karen Bridle from Wimbledon, born in 1925, who married John Anthony Williams, who died at sea in 1970. The same person? No idea.

There’s one further record. The Middlesex County Times, which often reported Ealing Chess Club’s results, is available online. In 1968 Cliff Bridle was playing on board 3 for Wimbledon against Ealing in a Thames Valley League match (he won with the white pieces against E (Francis Edwin) Weninger), so he was still occasionally active into his mid 50s.

At some point he returned to his native Dorset, dying there in February 2001 at the age of 87.

Here, again, is the game on which his fame rests.

[pgn]

[Event “Flensburg”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “1947.??.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Bridle, Clifford”]
[Black “Bogoljubov, Efim”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “A84”]
[Annotator “Richard”]
[PlyCount “65”]
[EventDate “1947.??.??”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]
1. d4 e6 2. c4 f5 (2… Nf6 3. Nf3 b6 4. g3 Bb7 5. Bg2 Be7 6. O-O O-O 7. Nc3)
3. Nf3 Nf6 4. g3 b6 5. Bg2 Bb7 6. O-O Be7 7. Nc3 (7. d5 exd5 8. Nd4 g6 9. cxd5
Bxd5 (9… Nxd5 10. Bh6) 10. Bxd5 Nxd5 11. Nxf5) 7… Ne4 8. d5 Nxc3 9. bxc3
O-O 10. Nd4 Qc8 (10… Bd6 11. dxe6 Bxg2 12. Kxg2 Qe7 13. exd7 Nxd7) (10… e5
11. Nb3 d6 12. c5 a5 (12… bxc5 13. Nxc5 dxc5 14. Qb3) 13. c6 Bc8) 11. e4 c5
12. Ne2 Bf6 13. Qd3 Na6 14. exf5 exf5 15. g4 fxg4 (15… Nb4 16. cxb4 (16. Qd1
fxg4 17. Rb1 Na6) 16… Bxa1 17. Bf4 Bb2 18. Rb1 Bf6 19. g5 Be7 20. Ng3 d6) 16.
Be4 g6 17. Ng3 (17. Bxg6 hxg6 18. Qxg6+ Bg7 19. Bh6 Rf7 20. Ng3 Qf8 21. Nh5 Rf6
22. Qxg7+ Qxg7 23. Bxg7 Rf3 24. Rae1 Rh3 25. Re5 Rxh5 26. Rxh5 Kxg7 27. f3 gxf3
28. Rxf3 Kg6 29. Rh4 Kg5 30. Rhh3) 17… Kg7 18. Bf4 Nc7 19. Rae1 Ne8 20. Nh5+
Kf7 (20… gxh5 21. Bxh7 (21. Bh6+ Kxh6 22. Bxh7 Kg5 (22… Kg7 23. Qg6+ Kh8
24. Bg8) (22… Rg8 23. Bxg8 Nd6 24. Qh7+ Kg5 25. h4+ Kxh4 26. Kg2 Kg5 27. f4+
gxf3+ 28. Kxf3 Qxg8 29. Rg1+ Kh4 30. Rh1+ Kg5 31. Rxh5#) 23. f4+ gxf3 24. Qg6+
Kh4 (24… Kf4 25. Qg3#) 25. Qg3#) 21… Kh8 22. Qg6 d6 23. Qxh5 Qc7 24. Bf5+
Kg8 25. Bh6 Ng7 26. Qg6) 21. Nxf6 Nxf6 22. Bd6 Re8 23. f4 (23. f3 g3 (23…
gxf3 24. Qxf3 Qd8 25. Bxg6+ hxg6 26. Be7 (26. Re7+ Rxe7 27. Qxf6+ Kg8 28. Bxe7)
26… Rxe7 27. Qxf6+) 24. hxg3 Qd8 25. Qd2) 23… Nxe4 24. Rxe4 Rxe4 25. Qxe4
Qe8 26. Qd3 Qg8 (26… Kg8 27. f5 b5 28. cxb5 c4 29. Qd4 Qe2) 27. f5 g5 28. f6
(28. Qg3 h5 (28… Ba6 29. Qxg4 Re8 30. Qh5+ Kf6 31. h4 Bxc4 32. Qh6+ Kf7 33.
hxg5) 29. Be7 (29. f6 Re8 30. Be7 Qg6 31. Qc7 Bc8 32. Qxa7 g3 33. Qxb6 (33.
hxg3 h4) 33… gxh2+ 34. Kxh2 Qc2+) 29… Kxe7 (29… Re8 30. Qd6 Rxe7 31. f6
Re3 32. Qxd7+ Kg6 33. f7 Qf8 34. Qf5+ Kh6 35. Qf6+ Kh7 36. Qxg5 Rf3 37. Qxh5+
Qh6 38. Qxh6+ Kxh6 39. Rxf3 gxf3 40. f8=Q+) 30. Qc7 Ba6 (30… Qf7 31. f6+ Kf8
32. Rf5 Re8 33. Qd6+ Kg8 34. Rxg5+ Kh8 35. Rg7 Qf8 36. Qf4) (30… Bc8 31. Re1+
Kf7 32. Qd6 Qg7 33. Re7+ Kf8 34. Rxg7+ Kxg7 35. Qe7+ Kh6 36. Qf7 h4 37. Qg6#)
31. Re1+ Kf8 32. Qd6+ Kg7 33. Re7+) (28. Qe4 Qe8 (28… Re8 29. Qxg4) 29. Be5
Rd8 30. f6 Qg8 31. Bd6 Re8 32. Qe7+ Rxe7 33. fxe7+ Kg6 34. Rf8 Qf7 35. e8=B
Qxe8 36. Rxe8) 28… Qg6 (28… Re8 29. Qf5 (29. Be7 Qg6 30. Qg3) 29… Bc8 30.
Qxg4 Qg6) 29. Qe3 Re8 30. Qe7+ Rxe7 31. fxe7+ Kg7 32. Be5+ Kh6 33. Rf6 1-0
[/pgn]

Update (27 Aug 21)

Thanks to everyone for their interest in this article.

Particular thanks to Jon D’Souza-Eva, who has discovered that Cliff Bridle’s wife seems to have been Katharina Cäcilia Martha Lauer, born 2 January 1927, died 6 April 1989: her address was given as Flat 1, Steeple Court, 36, St Marys Road, SW19, just round the corner from the All England Lawn Tennis Club. I presume she was born in Germany and married Cliff somewhere in the Flensburg area round about 1947. They later divorced and in 1970 she married John Anthony Williams, also a divorcee, who had been born in Ludlow in 1921. Sadly, John died on 6 August 1972: his probate record shows his address was also Steeple Court. (An online tree incorrectly gives his death year as 1970, not 1972, and claims he had died at sea, off the coast of Somerset, while working.)

Particular thanks also to Brian Denman, who has contributed another Cliff Bridle game.

[pgn]
[Event “?”]
[Site “?”]
[Date “????.??.??”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Bridle, Clifford”]
[Black “Hayden, Bruce”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “A56”]
[PlyCount “36”]
[EventDate “????.??.??”]
[SourceVersionDate “2021.08.26”]

1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 c5 3. d5 d6 4. Nf3 g6 5. b3 Bg7 6. Bb2 O-O 7. Nbd2 e6 8. e4
exd5 9. exd5 Re8+ 10. Be2 Qe7 11. Kf1 Bf5 12. Nh4 Bc2 13. Qe1 Na6 14. Rc1 Nb4
15. Nhf3 Nh5 16. Bxg7 Nf4 17. Bc3 Nbd3 18. Bxd3 Bxd3+ 0-1

[/pgn]

Source: Sussex Daily News (21 Apr 1955), which gives neither the date nor the occasion.

In this game, Cliff is hardly recognisable as the same player who beat Bogo, is he? A pretty poor effort. Black could even have won a pawn with the Stock Tactic 5… Nxd5 with Bg7 to follow if White captures either way. I guess we all have bad days.

Bruce Hayden, or, if you prefer, Hendry Ellenband, was himself an interesting character, who, because of his local connections, might be worth a future Minor Piece.

2021, Biographies, Games Analysis, Minor Pieces, Players, Remembering, Richard James

Minor Pieces 6: William John Withers

August 12, 2021 Richard James 1 Comment

Continuing my series about Arthur Towle Marriott’s Leicester opponents, we reach W Withers, almost certainly William. Apologies to those of you who’ve been eagerly awaiting this article, but I’ve been busy on other projects. You’ll find out more later.

[embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bEeaS6fuUoA[/embedyt]

Great song, and I hope you all have a lovely day, but this wasn’t William Harrison Withers Jr.

W Withers, sometimes WJ Withers (or were they two different people?), first appeared in Leicester chess records in 1874, when he was elected Club Secretary, and continued his involvement, representing Leicester, and the smaller club, Granby, in matches against other Midlands towns and cities, until 1900. But who was he?

Withers is a surprisingly common name in the East Midlands. One of James Towle’s fellow Luddites bore the name William Withers, but his family were from Nottingham rather than Leicester and seem not to have been related to the chess player.

There were several gentlemen named William Withers in Leicester at the time. We can assume, because, as a young man he was the club secretary, that he came from an educated background. The only W Withers who fits the bill is William John Withers, who lived most of his life in Leicester, although his birth was registered in the St Pancras district of London in the second quarter of 1853, and who died in the Harrow/Hendon area on 23 December 1934.

William’s father, George Henry Withers, was the son of John Withers, born in the chess town of Hastings. John had a varied career. Originally a lace maker, he joined the police, rising to the rank of inspector. He then went to work on the railways, first as a station master, and then as a railroad contractor, before becoming a commission agent, and, finally, a clerk at a coal wharf. Was there any job he couldn’t turn his hand to? In between times, he found time to father eight children: seven sons and a daughter. Not for the first time in Minor Pieces, his seventh son was named Septimus.

George Henry Withers was John’s eldest son. Born in about 1830, he followed his father into the railways, a very common occupation at the time. When he married Mary Ann Caunt in 1849, he was a railway clerk, living in the Leicestershire town of Melton Mowbray, famous for its pork pies. He was described as being ‘of full age’: it’s not certain that this was true. By the 1851 census he was a station master living in Orston, Nottinghamshire.

This was presumably Elton Station, now called Elton and Orston, half way between those two villages, which had only opened to passenger traffic the previous year. In 2019/20, it was the second least used station in the country.

[embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbRZhURUYsg[/embedyt]

He didn’t stay there long. By 1853, when our man William was born, he was in the St Pancras area of London, perhaps working at one of the London railway termini: St Pancras itself, Kings Cross next door, or nearby Euston.

Just a few months later he’d moved again. Sadly, the death of his oldest child, Albert, was recorded in Grantham, and he was buried in the nearby village of Great Gonerby, whose inhabitants are known as ‘Clockpelters’, from their habit of trying to strike the face of the church clock with stones or snowballs.

We pick him up again in 1857, when, now working as a bailiff, he was appointed a Freeman of the City of Leicester. Later census records see him working as a commission agent, an accountant, a bookkeeper and a gardener. Like his father, a many of many skills and occupations.

It’s more than time to find out more about William John Withers. His first job was as a clerk in a coal office, and when he married in 1873, he was still in the same job. His wife, Annie Clarke, was the daughter of a house painter, the same occupation that was followed by my grandfather Tom Harry James. Their first child, Horace, was born the following year, when William was also elected to the post of Secretary of Leicester Chess Club. It seems that he didn’t stay in that post long, though.

On 29 October 1880, he represented Leicester in a match against a visiting team from Nottingham Chess Club, where he faced Minor Pieces hero Arthur Towle Marriott.

The Leicester Chronicle (6 November 1880) reported what sounds like a convivial affair. Half way through, they all stopped playing to witness a presentation to Mr Sharland, the Leicester Club Secretary, who, in less than five years, had increased the club membership from 18 to 61. Various speeches were made before the gentlemen of Leicester and Nottingham resumed their games.

It seems that only one game was played on top board, while the other boards played two games each. Arthur Towle Marriott, the only Nottingham player to win both his games, seems to have been playing on too low a board.

Here’s his game with White.

[pgn]

[Event “Leicester v Nottingham”]
[Site “Leicester”]
[Date “1880.10.29”]
[White “Marriott, Arthur Towle”]
[Black “Withers, William John”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C52”]
[Annotator “Richard”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 Bxb4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 exd4 7. O-O dxc3 8.
Qb3 Qf6 9. e5 Qg6 10. Nxc3 b5 (10… Nge7 11. Ba3 Rb8 12. Nd5 b5 13. Bxb5 Ba6
14. Nxe7 Nxe7 15. Nd4 Nf5) 11. Nxb5 Rb8 12. Bd3 (12. Qe3 Nge7 13. Qe2 Qh5 14.
Ba3 Bb7 15. Rad1 Nf5 16. Rxd7 Kxd7 17. e6+ Kc8 18. exf7 Ba8 19. Nxa7+ Nxa7 20.
Qe6+ Kd8 21. Rd1+ Nd6 22. Rxd6+ cxd6 23. Qxd6+ Kc8 24. Be6+ Kb7 25. Bd5+ Qxd5
26. Qxd5+ Ka6 27. Qc4+ Kb7 28. Qe4+ Nc6 29. Ne5 Ka6 30. Qc4+ Ka7 31. Bc5+ Rb6
32. Bxb6+ Bxb6 33. Nxc6+ Bxc6 34. Qxc6 {0-1 (34) Kolisch,I-Anderssen,A Paris
1861 EXT 2018 [Tartakower/du Mont]}) 12… Qh5 13. Nfd4 (13. Qc4 a6 14. Na3 Nh6
(14… Nge7 15. g4 Qh3 16. Ng5) 15. h3 (15. Ng5 Ng4) 15… O-O 16. Qe4 Qg6 17.
Qe2 Nf5 $13) (13. Qa4 a6 14. Na7 Rb4 15. Qa3 Rg4 16. Be2 (16. Nxc8 Rxg2+ 17.
Kxg2 Qg4+ $11) 16… Bb7 17. Nxc6 Bxc6 18. g3 $16 (18. Qxa5 Rxg2+ 19. Kxg2 Qg4+
20. Kh1 Bxf3+ $11)) 13… Nxd4 $4 (13… Nge7 $15) 14. Nd6+ cxd6 15. Qxb8 Kd8
16. Ba6 Ne7 17. exd6 Ndc6 18. dxe7+ Kxe7 19. Ba3+ Kf6 20. Qd6+ 1-0

[/pgn]

The game followed well known (at the time) Evans Gambit theory for some way. Black’s 7th move is brave: 7… Nge7 and 7… d6 are most often played, but the engines like 7… Nf6 8. e5 d5. 10… b5 was also a bold choice: again 10… Nge7 would have been more circumspect. Marriott had stronger, but difficult, options on move 13, but his choice proved successful when the Leicester man blundered horribly in reply.

Three weeks later the Leicester chessers visited Nottingham for the return match, this time with a much weaker team. Mr Bingham’s restaurant provided an excellent supper, with speeches and toasts, before play started. Arthur Marriott, after his success in the earlier match, had been promoted to board 3, and again found himself facing William Withers.

The Nottingham Journal (27 November 1880) reported on an overwhelming victory for the home team. 11½-2½ was very different from the earlier 5-8 defeat.

These matches appear to have been social events rather than the competitive inter-club matches with which we’re all familiar. Although there was considerable interest in the result, the eating and drinking seemed just as important. Perhaps that’s how club matches should be.

Again, we have the game where Marriott played White against Withers.

[pgn]

[Event “Nottingham v Leicester”]
[Site “Nottingham”]
[Date “1880.11.19”]

[White “Marriott, Arthur Towle”]
[Black “Withers, William John”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C57”]
[Annotator “Richard”]
[PlyCount “35”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. Ng5 d5 5. exd5 Nxd5 $6 6. Nxf7 Kxf7 7. Qf3+
Ke6 8. Nc3 Nce7 $2 (8… Ncb4) 9. d4 c6 10. Bg5 (10. dxe5 $18) 10… h6 11.
Bxe7 Bxe7 12. O-O-O (12. dxe5 $14) 12… Bg5+ 13. Kb1 Ke7 $4 (13… Rf8 14. Qg3
Kf7 15. dxe5 Be6 16. Nxd5 cxd5 17. h4 (17. Bd3 Kg8 18. h4 Bf4 19. Qg6 Re8 20.
Qh7+ Kf8 21. Rhe1 Qd7 22. Qh8+ Kf7 23. Qh7 Kf8 $11) 17… dxc4 18. Rxd8 Bxd8
$13) 14. Bxd5 cxd5 15. Nxd5+ Ke8 16. Rhe1 Be7 17. dxe5 Be6 18. Nf6+ 1-0

[/pgn]

This time, Withers chose to avoid the Evans Gambit, but playing 3… Nf6 without knowing the theory isn’t a good idea. Even then, it was known that 5… Nxd5 wasn’t best, giving White a choice of two strong options, 6. d4 and that primary school favourite, 6. Nxf7, the Fried Liver Attack.

Engines now confirm that 8… Ne7 in the Fried Liver is losing, but 8… Nb4 might just keep Black in the game. Marriott missed a couple of better moves, but Withers panicked on move 13, losing even more quickly and horribly than three weeks earlier.

By today’s standards, the chess of William John Withers makes a poor impression: a player with a patchy knowledge of opening theory along with tactical vulnerability.

Note that A F Atkins, who played for Leicester in these matches, was Arthur Frederick Atkins, originally from Coventry, and no relation to the great Henry Ernest Atkins, about whom more next time.

By now William had a new job: the 1881 census told us he was a bookseller in Loseby Lane, Leicester, only a few yards away from where a later and stronger Leicester chess player would, several decades later, also run a bookshop. You may well meet him in a future article. He was also just a short walk from what is now De Montfort University, the new home of the English Chess Federation library and also, as it happens, my alma mater.

An announcement in the Leicester Journal (5 January 1884) suggests that his bookselling business hit a problem.

It was time for him to turn over a new leaf. By 1891 he was an antiques dealer, having moved just round the corner to Silver Street, and doing well enough to employ a servant. The 1901 and 1911 censuses told the same story: in the latter year he styled himself a ‘dealer in genuine antiques’.

At some point after that, perhaps after the death of his father in 1913, he moved to London. The 1921 census, due for release next January, will reveal more.

We can pick William up again in 1932, when he made his last will and testament, granting generous bequests to his children and grandchildren. Still working as an antique dealer, his address was given as 48 George Street, Manchester Square, WC1, only a few minutes’ stroll from 44 Baker Street, where, had he been able to travel through time, he’d have been able to stock up on the latest chess books.

His antique dealing had clearly been very successful. He died in 1934, and probate records reveal that he left effects to the value of £15,240 17s 9d, which, depending on how you calculate it, amounts to anywhere between one and seven million pounds in today’s money.

So there you have it. While his chess playing didn’t impress, he played an important role in chess life in Leicester. Away from the board, in both business and family life, he seems to have done very well for himself. Well played, William John Withers!

Biographies, Games Analysis, History, Minor Pieces, Richard James

Minor Pieces 5: Francis Ptacek

July 12, 2021 Richard James Leave a comment

Continuing from my last article about Arthur Towle Marriott, I promised a series of articles on his Leicester opponents.

This is an interesting period in chess history, witnessing the start of inter-club competitions as we used to know them before Covid-19.

The two matches between Leicester and Nottingham in January and February 1877 seem to have been Leicester’s first matches against another club. Nottingham, however, had previous form: the earliest match I can find was against Derby in 1872. Train services from Nottingham to Derby started in 1839, with trains to Leicester available the following year, but by now rail transport had become more frequent and more affordable. It was the 3.35 servicethat took the Nottingham chess players to Leicester on 25 January 1877.

The following week the Leicester Journal reported:

An interesting event in connection with this club, took place on Thursday week, in the Mayor’s Parlour of the old Town Hall, kindly lent for the occasion by the Mayor, W. Winterton Esq., when the majority of the members assembled to welcome six gentlemen of the Nottingham Chess Club, who arrived by the 3.35 train, to spend, by invitation, a few hours in friendly contest at Chess. The high reputation of the Nottingham Club, caused considerable interest to be felt in the visit, and it was thought that the home players would have but little chance of maintaining a creditable stand. When, therefore, at the close of the contest, it was found that Nottingham had won the match by only one in their favour, considerable gratification was experienced at so favourable a result. The following gentlemen represented the Nottingham Club: S. Hamel Esq., President, Messrs. Stevenson, Marriott, Glendenning, Brown, and Kirk, while Rev. W. L. Newham, Mr W. Stanyon (president), Dr. Nuttall, Herr Ptacek, Messrs. Atkins and Withers did battle for Leicester, winning eight games to their opponent’s nine. The play of the Nottingham gentlemen was much admired for the skill and ingenuity evinced, and, as a consequence of their visit to Leicester, it may be safely asserted that the impetus given to the study of this most intellectual of games among the members of the Home Club, will not soon pass away. The return match we are given to understand will be played at Nottingham on Tuesday next, February 6th, at the Club Room, Long-row. In connection with the Leicester Chess Club we are pleased to learn that its members during the present session have almost doubled, and that new life and energy seem to pervade all its movements.

Chess matches in those days were always described as ‘interesting’ (see also below). Or if not ‘interesting’, then ‘pleasant’.

(Note that the Mr Atkins active at that time was seemingly not related to the great Henry Ernest Atkins, about whom more later.)

It’s not clear from this report whether Nottingham’s Mr Marriott was Arthur or one of his brothers. Zavatarelli assumes it was Arthur: it’s possible that other reports not available online will confirm this.

The week after next, a Leicester team took the train north. Here’s the report from the Nottinghamshire Guardian:

On Tuesday evening a most interesting and spirited match at chess took place between the clubs of Nottingham and Leicester, at the rooms of the former, which are at Mr. Bingham’s restaurant, Long-row. Seven members of the Leicester club took part in the game against eight of Nottingham. About nine o’clock in the evening the members of both clubs adjourned, and sat down to supper, when Mr. Hamel, president of the Nottingham society, occupied the chair. After the usual loyal toasts had been honoured, that of “Continued success and prosperity to the Nottingham Chess Club” was proposed by the chairman and enthusiastically drunk. In the course of his remarks, the chairman referred in very feeling terms to the death of Mr. Thomas Hill, one of the oldest and most respected members of the club, and whose lost he (the chairman) was sure, must be deeply regretted and mourned by all. The president next referred to the Cambridge match, which had resulted so successfully, and to the honour of Nottingham – (hear, hear) – they having won both games, and having declared in one game a mate in ten moves, a point which the Cambridge University could not see. (Applause.) Dr. Worth, the vice-president, after alluding to his thirty years’ connection with the club, proposed, in a complimentary manner, the “Health of the Visitors”, which was responded to by the Rev. Mr. Newham, of Leicester, and Mr. Thompson, the celebrated problem composer of Derby, in very cordial terms. The health of the respected president (Mr. Hamel) having been proposed and drunk with due honours, the members left the supper table, and again proceeded with their games, which were carried on until a late hour. The following is a list of the players – Leicester, Messrs. Ptacek, Withers, Atkins, Latchmore, Stanyon, Nuttall, and the Rev. – Newham. Nottingham: Messrs. E. Marriott, T. Marriott, A. Marriott, Roe, Alderman W. G. Ward, Hugh Browne, T. A. Stevenson, and Mellors. At midnight, the contest was concluded, when it was announced that Nottingham had won six games, lost five, and drawn one. The match resulted in favour of Nottingham by one game.

We only have the names here, but, fortunately the Leicester Chronicle provided more details:

Here, we’re told that Arthur Towle Marriott played on board 4 against Herr Ptacek, winning both his games.

Nottingham’s chess star Sigismund Hamel was present, but, for some reason, didn’t play in the match. However, he annotated (rather inaccurately, according to Stockfish 14) Arthur’s two games for the Nottingham Daily Express (not available online).

In the first game, Arthur’s opponent put up little resistance. This is why I often recommend the Ruy Lopez to novices. If Black isn’t familiar with the opening he can end up in a lost position very quickly. This is just the sort of game I like to use when introducing my pupils to this opening.

[pgn]

[Event “Nottingham v Leicester”]
[Site “Nottingham”]
[Date “1877.02.06”]
[Round “1”]
[White “Marriott, Arthur Towle”]
[Black “Ptacek, Francis”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C70”]
[Annotator “Richard James”]
[PlyCount “27”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 b5 5. Bb3 Bc5 6. c3 d6 7. d4 exd4 8. cxd4
Bb6 9. O-O Bb7 10. Re1 Nce7 11. e5 h6 12. e6 {Black played a poor opening:
simple development with Nc3 would have given White a winning advantage. But
instead his impetuous choice gave Black the opportunity for 12… f5 and 13…
Nf6.} f6 13. Nh4 g5 {Possibly the worst move on the board, allowing a mate in
3.} 14. Qh5+ 1-0

[/pgn]

But who was Herr Ptacek? What was someone with such an exotic name doing in Leicester?

It’s a very good question, with a very interesting answer.

I really need to introduce you to Robert Ralph Noel.

R R Noel (1802-1883) was born in Kirkby Mallory (as in Mallory Park race circuit), the son of a clergyman. He was very well connected: knowing, either directly or indirectly, almost everyone who was anyone in 19th century England: George Eliot, Charles Darwin, Lord Byron (Ada Lovelace, a distant relation, lived in Kirkby Mallory as a young girl). He married a German Baroness whose family had an estate in Bohemia, which gave him connections to the likes of Goethe right across Europe. He wrote a book on phrenology, which you can, if you so desire (but I wouldn’t bother if I were you), read today.

However, his day job involved running the Leicestershire Militia (the volunteer forces), and, like all forces in those days, they needed a good military band, with a good bandmaster to lead it. For much of the 19th century England was known as ‘the land without music’, so when a musician was required it was tempting to look abroad. Mrs Noel had heard good things about a young man from Prague called Franz Ptacek (he’d often be known as Francis in England), and, in 1854, he was engaged to run a military band in Leicester. It seems he was very successful and popular, but, after 12 years or so, following some sort of dispute, he felt obliged to resign his position.

He then set up a new orchestra and concert society, and resumed giving concerts in Leicester. He was also a composer, pianist and organist seemingly much in demand. Light classical music concerts (think the Strauss family: waltzes, polkas, marches, that sort of thing) were a very popular entertainment at the time. He was more ambitious than this, though, writing an opera and programming two of Handel’s great oratorios: Saul and Samson.

It’s time for some music. Ptacek was particularly renowned for his interpretation of the famous Dead March from Saul. I’d have liked to offer you the Leicester Militia playing this in 1860, but instead you’ll have to do with the next best thing: the Band of the Coldstream Guards recorded in 1910.

Band of the Coldstream Guards play Handel’s Funeral March – YouTube

He also found time to indulge in his (and our) favourite hobby: chess. He was selected to represent his adopted city in what was perhaps their first competitive match, where he met our hero, Arthur Towle Marriott.

His play in the first game wasn’t at all impressive, but he conducted his troops rather better in the return game. Perhaps the supper provided by Bingham’s Restaurant had some effect. His Scotch Gambit led to a winning position, only for him to throw away the win with one careless mistake.

[pgn]

[Event “Nottingham v Leicester”]
[Site “Nottingham”]
[Date “1877.02.06”]
[Round “2”]
[White “Ptacek, Francis”]
[Black “Marriott, Arthur Towle”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “C44”]
[Annotator “Richard James”]
[PlyCount “48”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 exd4 4. Bc4 {Black usually transposes to a Two
Knights Defence with Nf6 or plays Bc5 here. Bb4+ is unpopular and unsuccessful
over the board, but Stockfish 14 likes it.} Bb4+ 5. c3 dxc3 6. O-O c2 {Black
usually plays d6 here, but Stockfish also likes 6… Nf6 7. e5 d5.} 7. Qxc2 d6
8. a3 Ba5 9. b4 Bb6 10. Bb2 Nf6 11. Qb3 O-O 12. Nbd2 Ng4 13. Qc3 Nce5 {Qf6
would have maintained his extra pawn.} 14. h3 Nxf3+ 15. Nxf3 Nf6 16. Rad1 Qe7 {
16… Be6 was better, when White has adequate compensation for the pawn.} 17.
Rfe1 Be6 18. e5 Bxc4 {A blunder: he had to play dxe5.} 19. Qxc4 d5 20. exf6 {
A fatal miscalculation, presumably missing Black’s reply. The obvious 20. Qh4
would have won easily.} Qxe1+ 21. Rxe1 dxc4 22. fxg7 Rfe8 23. Kf1 Rxe1+ 24.
Nxe1 Rd8 0-1

[/pgn]

Chess matches in those days served a social rather than a competitive purpose. The result, while eagerly anticipated, didn’t really matter that much. It was more an excuse for players from neighbouring towns or cities to meet for some enjoyable games, with a supper in between. Over the next decade or so there would be many changes, as you’ll see in future Minor Pieces.

A few years later, though, something went wrong. For a second time he lost his orchestra and had to resort to teaching the pianoforte, taking private pupils as well as acting as a peripatetic teacher at Miss Lomas’s school.

At Christmas 1885, Ptacek travelled to Chatham to spend the holiday period with his friend Rudolf Sawerthal, another Czech born military musician. He was just about to return to Leicester when he suffered a fatal heart attack, at the age of only 52.

The Leicester Chronicle published a lengthy obituary:

It is with feelings of sincere regret that we announce the death of Herr Ptacek, which took place at Chatham on Thursday morning. The death of this eminent local musician was totally unexpected, and the intelligence of his sudden decease was received with great surprise amongst his intimate friends. About ten days ago Herr Ptacek proceeded to Chatham on a visit to Herr Sawerthal, the accomplished master of the band of the Royal Engineers, whose performance in the Floral Hall during Christmas week gave such exceptional satisfaction to everyone who heard them. He contemplated returning to Leicester on Thursday morning, and had made every preparation for his departure, when he was suddenly seized with pain at the heart. A medical man was immediately summoned, but before he could arrive Herr Ptacek had expired. A telegram was shortly afterwards despatched to Mr. J. Herbert Marshall, of the Rutland-Street music depot, one of the deceased’s most intimate friends, and that gentleman communicated the sad intelligence to his friends in Leicester, all of whom heard the occurrence with much regret. To many the name Herr Ptacek will be unknown, but his name will not be forgotten by those ardent lovers of music who twenty years ago were charmed with the brilliant company of artistes he gathered around him. The deceased came to Leicester a comparative stranger, but his abilities soon won favourable recognition, and he speedily became possessed of a merited reputation for musical accomplishments, which was not confined to the limits of the borough. In 1855 Herr Ptacek was introduced to Leicester by Major and Mrs Noel, who were convinced of his sterling worth as an organiser and conductor. He left Prague, where he had been brought up under cultivating influences, and took charge of the militia band, which was in want of complete and thorough organisation. So well did Herr Ptacek succeed at his appointed task that before long the band was selected to play before the Queen at Aldershot, and the fine playing of the men under his control elicited warm expressions of Royal approval. The band subsequently played several times before a distinguished company at Belvoir Castle. Some disagreement ultimately took place between him and the officers of the regiment, in consequence of which – in order to maintain his self-respect – he felt it necessary to resign. The resignation was accepted, and he renounced the position of bandmaster, amid many expressions of regret. His efforts to improve the musical taste of the town were not, however, forgotten. On December 16, 1867, he was presented by Mr. T. T. Paget, M.P., at a largely-attended meeting of influential inhabitants, with a purse containing 150 guineas, as some acknowledgement of the efforts he had put forth for twelve years to cultivate musical taste and provide for the public enjoyment. The purse was worked by Mrs Noel, and, in accepting the gift, Herr Ptacek made a humorous and appropriate speech. Some time after his severance of the connection with the militia band, Herr Ptacek organised a band of his own, which he trained to an exceptional point of perfection, and also became the conductor of the New Orpheus Society, a musical association partly, if not completely, antagonistic to the then Philharmonic Society. His charge of that society was marked by masterful activity, his abilities in controlling the resources of an orchestra being strikingly exhibited. Under the auspices of this society, Samson and Saul were given before large audiences in the chief hall of the town, and the magnificent way in which the “Dead March” was rendered has not yet faded from the recollection of those who heard it. Herr Ptacek also for about 14 years filled the position of organist at St. George’s Church, where his cultivated playing was greatly appreciated. He excelled more as a pianist than as an organist, although his skill in playing the more ponderous instrument was of no mean order. Upon his retirement from active musical life he was again the recipient of a testimonial subscribed for by his admiring friends. He lived in comparative retirement, and his name has not been connected with musical efforts in the town for many years past, although we believe he continued to take pupils who wished to e instructed in the mysteries of the pianoforte. From the commencement of his labours in Leicester his energies had been invariably directed towards the education of the inhabitants, and in this respect he has probably never been excelled, although it would be idle to say he has not been equalled. He was uniformly courteous, and his geniality endeared him to all who came in contact with him. His life was arduous and self-sacrificing, and the news of his death will not fall to awaken feelings of sorrow. He was about 52 years of age. We understand that instructions have been given to have the deceased interred in the Leicester Cemetery.

His memorial unfortunately misspells both his names, making him Frances rather than Francis (‘i’ for ‘im, ‘e’ for ‘er, as my mother taught me).

The inscription reads, in part:

An accomplished musician he was endeared to his many pupils and to all who knew him, not more by his varied attainments than by his honesty and frankness and by the warmth of his attainments. Those who now sorrow over his grave may well say he came among us as a stranger and he departed leaving many warm and devoted friends.

This site provides more information: his date of birth is given as 1831, but this may be wrong: other records suggest it was 2 December 1832. It’s also incorrect in stating that his wife was Czech.

Further information, including from a source about Masonic Music and Musicians in Leicestershire and Rutland, can be found here.

As far as I can tell, none of his music has survived, but I did find a polka written by his friend Rudolf Sawerthal, arranged for accordion:

Polka Arlequín – YouTube

There you have it: Arthur Towle Marriott’s opponent Francis Ptacek leads us on a tour of chess and musical life in Leicester in the 1870s and 1880s. Who will we discover next? You’ll find out here soon enough.

And, by the way, if you’re interested in the sociology of chess in the English Midlands in the 19th century, you can read Rob Ensor’s 2016 Masters Thesis on Nottingham chess here. My thanks to Rob for making this available, and also to John Swain for bringing it to my attention.

2021, Biographies, Games Analysis, Minor Pieces, Players, Richard James, Tactics

Minor Pieces 2: Alexander Sich

May 23, 2021 Richard James 1 Comment

It’s Monday 28 August 1871. Join me at Simpson’s Divan in the Strand, where, after a satisfying lunch of roast beef, accompanied by a bottle of their finest claret, followed by a glass of brandy and a Havana cigar, we adjourn to the chess room to watch the great Wilhelm Steinitz in action.

He introduces us to his friend Mr Sich, who is, he informs us, a wine merchant. The two gentlemen are engaged in an exciting battle. At one point Herr Steinitz is a rook ahead but his king seems to be in trouble. He manages to survive and win the game, but could Mr Sich have done better?

[pgn]

[Event “Casual game”]
[Site “London ENG”]
[Date “1871.08.28”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Steinitz, Wilhelm”]
[Black “Sich, Alexander”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C30”]
[Annotator “Richard James”]
[PlyCount “79”]
[EventDate “1871.??.??”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nf6 5. Bc4 c6 6. d3 Nbd7 7. Qe2 b5 8. Bb3
a5 9. a4 b4 10. Nd1 Qb6 11. Ne3 exf4 12. Nc4 Qc7 13. d4 O-O 14. dxc5 $5 (14.
Bxf4 $1) 14… d5 15. Nb6 $6 (15. Nd6) 15… Ba6 16. Nxa8 Rxa8 17. Qd2 $2 (17.
Qf2) 17… Re8 18. Kd1 Nxe4 19. Qd4 Ndxc5 20. Re1 Nxb3 21. cxb3 c5 22. Qd2 c4
23. Qc2 g5 24. Nxg5 Qd7 25. Nxe4 dxe4+ 26. Qd2 Qg4+ 27. Qe2 f3 (27… Rd8+ $1
28. Bd2 Rxd2+ $1 29. Kxd2 c3+ $1 30. bxc3 e3+ 31. Kd1 Qd7+ 32. Kc2 Bxe2 33.
Rxe2 Qf5+ 34. Kb2 bxc3+ 35. Ka3 Qd3) 28. gxf3 Rd8+ 29. Bd2 exf3 30. Qf2 c3 31.
bxc3 bxc3 32. Ra2 Be2+ $2 (32… Qb4 33. Kc1 cxd2+ 34. Rxd2 Qxd2+ 35. Qxd2 Rxd2
36. Kxd2 f2) 33. Kc1 cxd2+ 34. Rxd2 Rc8+ $2 (34… Rxd2 35. Kxd2 Qf4+ 36. Kc2
Qe4+ 37. Kb2 Qf4 38. Rxe2 Qf6+ 39. Ka2 fxe2 40. Qxf6 e1=Q) 35. Kb2 Qb4 $2 (
35… Kf8) 36. Rg1+ Kf8 37. Qe3 Qh4 38. Qe5 Qh3 39. Qd6+ Ke8 40. Rg8# 1-0

[/pgn]

I reach into my pocket. “Look, Herr Steinitz! I’m a time traveller from 150 years into the future. I can press a few buttons on this small machine and talk to anyone in the world. I can press a few more buttons, enter the moves of the game you just played and show you both where you went wrong.”

“You might have been impressed by Ajeeb, but my machine is a million times better. You see, Mr Sich, you might have played your rook to queen one on move 28, announcing check to Herr Steinitz’s king. You were still winning, though, but on move 32, if you’d played your queen to queen’s knight five you could then have exchanged everything off on queen seven and advanced your king’s bishop’s pawn to the end of the board. Two moves later, you could still have drawn by exchanging rooks, but instead you left your own king defenceless.”

But now it’s time to bid our farewells and leave: we have a journey to make. Our destination is Hammersmith. We’re excited by the prospect of travelling on the Underground Railway, so head for Charing Cross Station. Just eight weeks earlier, following a banquet attended by Mr Gladstone two days previously, the District Railway started running trains round part of what would become the Inner Circle. In a few years time we’ll be able to take the train directly to Hammersmith, and the line will later be extended to exotic destinations such as Richmond and Ealing. 90 years later a schoolboy playing his friends on the train between Ravenscourt Park and Richmond will develop a lifelong chess obsession, but that’s another story for another time.

For now, we must take the underground train as far as Paddington, and change onto the Hammersmith and City Railway. When we reach our destination we spot a pub called the George just round the corner: it was rebuilt in 1911 and is now part of the Belushi’s chain. We could stop for a drink there, or in several other pubs nearby, but instead we’ll take a stroll down King Street.

After half a mile or so we’ll pass what is now Hammersmith Town Hall, which we visited in our last journey, and notice, in 2021, that it’s being redeveloped. If we look across the street we’ll see Dalling Road, and the building which, we hope, will soon be the site of a new Mind Sports Centre.

Then we pass another pub. This was the Hampshire Hog, but is now just the Hampshire, serving Indian cuisine as well as beers, wines and spirits. Mine’s a pint of London Pride: what are you having?

Why have I brought you here? Because this pub, like the George and many others in the area, was owned by the Sich family. The brewery was purchased by one John Sich in 1790 and later run by his sons, John junior and Henry. The two brothers both had numerous children, many of whom were involved in the family business.

But let’s stop there. News has just come in that Herr Steinitz and Mr A Sich played again two days after the game we witnessed. Again, Herr Steinitz survived a totally lost position to win, in an encounter which was even more exciting that their previous game, with a lot of bamboozling tactics. Probably worth a separate article, I think.

[pgn]

[Event “Casual game”]
[Site “London ENG”]
[Date “1871.08.30”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Steinitz, Wilhelm”]
[Black “Sich, Alexander”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C30”]
[Annotator “Richard James”]
[PlyCount “121”]
[EventDate “1871.??.??”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nf6 5. Bc4 c6 6. d3 Nbd7 7. Ng5 O-O 8. f5
b5 9. Bb3 a5 10. a3 Qb6 11. h4 Ba6 12. Qf3 a4 13. Ba2 b4 14. Nxa4 Qb5 15. axb4
Bxb4+ 16. c3 d5 17. Bb1 Nc5 18. Nxc5 Bxc5 19. Bc2 Bb7 20. Rb1 Ra2 21. Nh3 h5
22. Nf2 Rd8 23. Bg5 Bxf2+ 24. Kxf2 dxe4 (24… Ng4+ $1 25. Kg3 f6) 25. dxe4
Rxb2 26. Kg3 Rd6 27. Rhd1 (27. Bxf6 $1 gxf6 28. Qxh5) 27… Rxd1 28. Rxd1 (28.
Rxb2 Qxb2 29. Bxd1) 28… Ng4 29. Rd2 Qb6 (29… Qc5 $1) 30. Qd1 (30. Qd3 $1)
30… f6 $2 (30… Ba6) 31. Rd8+ Kh7 32. Qd7 Qc5 33. Qe8 (33. Qf7 $1 Qxc3+ 34.
Rd3 Qe1+ 35. Kh3 Nf2+ (35… Qh1+ 36. Kg3 Qe1+) 36. Kg3 Nxd3+ 37. Kh2 Rxc2 (
37… Nf4 38. Bxf6) 38. Qxh5+ Kg8 39. Qe8+ Kh7) 33… Qxc3+ 34. Rd3 (34. Bd3
Qe1+ 35. Kh3 Qh1+ 36. Kg3 Qxg2#) 34… Qe1+ 35. Kh3 Nf2+ 36. Kg3 Nxd3+ 37. Kh3
(37. Kh2 Nf4 38. Bxf4 (38. Bxf6 Qf2) 38… Qxh4+ 39. Kg1 Qg4) 37… Nf2+ (37…
Qh1+ 38. Kg3 Nf4 39. Bxf4 exf4+ 40. Kxf4 Qxh4+ 41. Kf3 Qg4+ 42. Ke3 Qg3+ 43.
Kd2 Qf2+ 44. Kc3 Qxc2+ 45. Kd4 c5+ 46. Ke3 Rb3+ 47. Kf4 Qf2#) 38. Kg3 (38. Kh2
Qb4) 38… Ng4+ (38… Qc3+ 39. Bd3 Qxd3+ 40. Be3 Qxe3+ 41. Kh2 Ng4+ 42. Kh1
Rb1#) 39. Kh3 Qc3+ 40. g3 Nf2+ $2 (40… Qc5 41. Qxh5+ Kg8 42. Qe8+ Qf8) 41.
Kg2 Qc5 42. Bxf6 gxf6 43. Qg6+ Kh8 44. Qxf6+ Kg8 45. Qg6+ Kf8 46. f6 Ng4 47.
Qg7+ Ke8 48. f7+ Kd8 49. f8=Q+ Qxf8 50. Qxf8+ Kc7 51. Qf7+ Kb6 $2 (51… Kb8)
52. Kg1 $1 Ba6 53. Qxh5 Be2 54. Qf7 Kc5 55. Qa7+ Kc4 56. Qa4+ Kc3 57. Bd1 Bxd1
58. Qxd1 Rg2+ 59. Kxg2 Ne3+ 60. Kf3 Nxd1 61. h5 1-0

[/pgn]

You’ll notice that Mr S missed a simple mate in 5 on move 38 before blundering away first the win and then the draw. Still impressive, though, that he could achieve winning positions in level play against the world’s strongest active player.

What else do we know about him? He was very active in the St James’s Club from 1860 onwards, where he was a second category player, receiving odds from Loewenthal and Valentine Green, but conceding odds to weaker players. We’ll meet at least one of his opponents, EE Humphreys, in a later article. He played published games on level terms against Steinitz in 1871, as we’ve seen, and against Loewenthal in 1873 and 1874, before disappearing from the chess scene. Tim Harding comments that his forename is unknown, but perhaps we can find out. Let’s continue our walk.

Back in the 1960s, when such things were allowed, the Hampshire Hog was the place where teachers from nearby Latymer Upper School would take their pupils for a drink. We’re now going to head away from King Street towards the river. Not so easy to cross the Great West Road, but we could perhaps cheat (as I’m an alumnus they might let me in) by following in the distinguished footsteps of the likes of GM Michael Stean and IM David Goodman, taking the school’s Secret Subway to the dining hall and the Prep department, and then out onto Upper Mall.

We’re now at the start of the notorious Round the River Run (or, in my case, walk) which takes you along the river, over Barnes Railway Bridge, along the towpath on the other side, across Hammersmith Bridge and back to where you started. We won’t do that now, not least because Hammersmith Bridge is currently closed for repairs, but will take a gentle walk by the river in the direction of Chiswick.

Passing the Old Ship, we’ll stop off at the Black Lion. Thanks for offering: I’ll have another pint of Pride. It would be rude not to, given how close we are to where it’s brewed. Above one of the corner tables is a portrait of local resident AP Herbert, whose wife was regularly seen at the Hammersmith Town Hall chess tournaments.

While we’re here, news comes in that Herr Steinitz and Mr A Sich have played another game.

[pgn]

[Event “Casual game”]
[Site “London ENG”]
[Date “1871.09.07”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Sich, Alexander”]
[Black “Steinitz, Wilhelm”]
[Result “0-1”]
[ECO “C60”]
[Annotator “Richard James”]
[PlyCount “72”]
[EventDate “1871.??.??”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nge7 4. Nc3 g6 5. d3 Bg7 6. O-O O-O 7. Ng5 $6 h6 8.
Nf3 d6 9. h3 f5 10. exf5 Nxf5 11. Nd5 Ncd4 12. Nxd4 Nxd4 13. Bc4 Kh7 14. c3 Ne6
15. Ne3 Nf4 16. Ng4 h5 17. Nh2 d5 18. Bb3 c6 19. Bxf4 Rxf4 20. Qe2 Qd6 21. Nf3
Bd7 22. Rae1 Re8 23. g3 Rxf3 24. Qxf3 Bxh3 25. Kh2 Rf8 26. Qe2 Qd7 $5 27. Rg1
Bg4 28. Qe3 (28. Qf1 $1) 28… Rf3 29. Qxa7 Rxd3 30. a4 Rd2 31. Bd1 d4 (31…
e4 $1) 32. Bxg4 Qxg4 33. Rg2 e4 34. cxd4 $2 (34. Qxb7 Qf3 35. cxd4 h4 36. gxh4
Rxf2 37. Reg1 Rxg2+ 38. Rxg2 Qf4+ 39. Kg1 Qe3+ 40. Kh2 Qf4+) 34… h4 35. gxh4
Qxh4+ 36. Kg1 e3 0-1

[/pgn]

I’m not sure what 7. Ng5 was all about: my pupils get their knuckles rapped if they play moves like that. Steinitz chose to go for the attack rather than regain the exchange on move 26, but Sich missed a draw on move 34.

It’s time to continue our walk, passing Fuller’s (London Pride) Brewery and soon reaching St Nicholas’s Church. Turning up Church Street towards the busy Hogarth Roundabout, a stark contrast to the bucolic views of the Thames, you’ll see a tower on your right with the words LAMB BREWERY. This was the name of the Sich family concern: little other than the tower remains.

But we still haven’t identified A Sich. Let’s return to John and Henry. John had a son named Alexander who was born in 1837, while, two years later, Henry’s son Arthur John was born. So we have two gentlemen named A Sich who were of the right age. As he was active from 1860 onwards, the older cousin seems more likely. A better reason is that, in the days when people were referred to by their full initials and surnames, the chess player was always ‘A. Sich’, never ‘A.J. Sich’. We also know from Steinitz that he was a wine merchant. As it happens, 1871 was a census year, so let’s travel back 150 years again and join the enumerator.

Here, in Church Street, where we’re standing now, is Arthur John, a brewer, with his wife and children. And just round the corner, in Sunbury House, The Mall, Chiswick, is Alexander, a wine merchant, with his wife (who just happened to be Arthur’s sister Helen: nothing like keeping it in the family) and children. This seems confirmation that it was Alex, not Artie, who played chess against Steinitz. We know quite a lot more about them as well. Al was very much concerned with municipal affairs throughout his life, while Art was involved with the army volunteers. Unlike his cousin, he seemed to prefer real soldiers to wooden soldiers.

Time for a final drink, I think. While we’re at the Hogarth Roundabout we could choose the George & Devonshire, which has probably always been a Fuller’s pub, but, to continue the theme of our pub crawl, we might prefer to walk up towards Turnham Green to visit another former Sich pub, the Lamb (formerly the Barley Mow, but its name was changed to that of the original brewery).

While we’re there, there’s another game to look at. Steinitz is White again and plays the King’s Gambit. Again, Sich is doing well at one point, but misdefends, allowing a neat sacrificial finish.

[pgn]

[Event “Casual game”]
[Site “London ENG”]
[Date “1871.09.19”]
[Round “?”]
[White “Steinitz, Wilhelm”]
[Black “Sich, Alexander”]
[Result “1-0”]
[ECO “C39”]
[Annotator “Richard James”]
[PlyCount “51”]
[EventDate “1871.??.??”]
[SourceVersionDate “2020.10.20”]

1. e4 e5 2. f4 exf4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Bg7 6. d4 Nf6 7. Bc4 O-O 8. Nc3
d6 9. Nxf7 Rxf7 10. Bxf7+ Kxf7 11. Bxf4 Nh5 $6 12. Bg5 Qe8 13. O-O+ Kg8 14. Nd5
Na6 15. a3 $6 (15. Qd2) 15… c6 $6 16. Ne7+ Kh8 17. Nxc8 Rxc8 18. Qxg4 $6 c5
$2 (18… Bxd4+ 19. Kh2 Nc5) 19. d5 Rc7 20. e5 Bxe5 21. Rae1 Rg7 22. Rxe5 $1
dxe5 23. Qxh5 $1 Nc7 24. d6 Rxg5 25. Qxe8+ Nxe8 26. d7 1-0

[/pgn]

We could, I suppose, visit the Watermans Arms in Brentford, which comes with a recommendation from food critic and West London Chess Club secretary Andy Hayler. Close by is the Watermans Arts Centre, which in turn is across the road from the rather wonderful Musical Museum and a short walk from the London Museum of Water and Steam, which itself is just across the railway line from the new Brentford Stadium. Will they be seeing Premiership football there next season, I wonder?

We could also travel further west to the Bell in Hounslow. Back in the 1980s or thereabouts Hounslow Chess Club met nearby, and the Bell was often the venue for our post mortems after we played them in the Thames Valley League. There are plenty of other former Sich pubs still around as well: see the link below.

Before I leave you, there’s one further reference connecting Alexander Sich to the game of chess.

In 1903 the Chiswick Library Committee, of which Alex was a member, decided to allow their committee room to be used as a games room. Chess, draughts and dominoes were provided so that the local louts could avoid trouble by playing some nice quiet games.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work out as planned. The boys resorted to games of their own: ‘coddam’, noisy larking, horse-play and pitching cinders. The good citizens of Chiswick were not at all happy, and, after a few weeks, the club was closed down. Alexander Sich said that he did not regret that they had made the experiment. It could hardly have been more different from the pre-lockdown chess group at Whitton Library. There’s a moral there somewhere, but I’m not sure what it is. (Coddam, since you asked, is ‘an old game, usually with three players on each side, based around guessing which of the players’ hands is hiding a coin or button.’)

Meanwhile, the Sich Brewery hit problems during the First World War and was sold off in 1920. Their neighbour, Fuller’s, however, survives and thrives to this day.

This is the second of a series of articles about Steinitz’s English amateur opponents. The next instalment will be coming shortly.

Sources:

The chess games of A Sich

The Lamb Brewery | Brentford & Chiswick Local History Society (brentfordandchiswicklhs.org.uk)

Metropolitan Railway – Wikipedia

Genealogy, Family Trees and Family History Records online – Ancestry®

Dashboard | findmypast.co.uk

2020, Books, Games Analysis, Games Collection, Reviews, Thinkers Publishing

Fundamental Chess Strategy in 100 Games

August 4, 2020 Andrew Martin 1 Comment

Boroljub Zlatanovic was born in Cuprija, Serbia, 05 August 1977 • Meet chess in 4 years old watching father and his brother playing • Entered first club “Radnicki” Cuprija in 7 years • FM since 1994 ( however, it was recognized in 1998) • Serbian youth champion in 1995 • Champion of Belgrade University in 2001 and 2002 • Many times won Serbian team championship (in youth competition also) • IM since 2014 • FT since 2015 • Winner of many open, blitz and rapid and internet events • Professional coach for more than 15 years • Author and contributor in American chess magazine since 2019

From the rear cover :

“This book would bring something new into your chess library. In computer era focus is usually on openings. Watching broadcasts new generations rather choose games with favorite opening played seeking for some interesting idea or even brilliant novelty. I offer and recommend different concept, based on famous Soviet chess school. Focus should be on understanding strategy concepts, principles and inner logic. Fashionable opening lines will be forgotten (or re-evaluated) sooner or later, but understanding cannot be lost and can be only upgraded. It is sad to see some player well equipped with opening lines, unable to realize big positional advantage in deep endgame. So, our advice is to learn about Strategy and Logic. The book is highly recommended for club players, advanced players and masters, although even higher rated players can find a lot of useful things for themselves. There is no doubt lower rated players will learn a lot about thinking process and making decisions, while some logical principles can be good advice for strong players also.”

Another review :

“Zlatanovic uses a light touch of his notes, limiting the complexity of his analysis and working to clearly explain the logic of positional decisions and ideas. Using examples both well-known and less studied, class and club players are taught quite a bit about basic positional play. I certainly leaned a thing of two. Johh Hartmann – Chess Life – April 2020.”

As with every recent Thinkers Publishing publication high quality paper is used and the printing is clear. The book can easily be laid flat next to the board and does not require weights to prevent it from “self-closing” (a particular bugbear of ours !). Each diagram is clear and the instructional text is typeset in two column format, which, we find, enables the reader to maintain their place easily. Figurine algebraic notation is used throughout and the diagrams are placed adjacent to the relevant text and each diagram has a “to move” indicator.

There is no index which, unfortunately, is a standard omission of Thinkers Publishing books. Also missing is a bibliography.

This is a massive book, over 500 pages and is a collection of classic games, with instructive notes. It is more or less designed for the club player. There is a bit of blurb on the back cover stating that the book will be useful to advanced players and masters, but I am not at all sure about that.

I cannot see advanced players buying this book.

Apparently, the book is based on the same principles as the famous Soviet school of chess. Strategy, logic and understanding should take pride of place, even in our computer era. I agree, but I don’t need the Soviet school of chess to tell me that. I can work that out for myself.

The book is beautifully produced and is very easy to read. It retails at a whopping £29.95 in the UK.

As there are so many books of the same type around, what I was looking for was a bit of originality. At the very least , all of the games should have been from the last 20 years, trying to unravel the complexity of the modern game.

What I found were games that I almost all seen before. There are only 15 games in the entire book that come from the period 2000-2020. None from Magnus Carlsen, for instance. This was disappointing.

Players under 1800 will get the most out of this book and trainers will have a ready source of lesson plans, if they are willing to make what is a hefty investment.

I give this book 3 out of 5 stars.

Three out of Five Stars

IM Andrew Martin, Bramley, Surrey 4th August 2020

Book Details :

Hardcover : 512 pages
Publisher:Thinkers Publishing; 1 edition (19 Mar. 2020)
Language: English
ISBN-10:9492510685
ISBN-13:978-9492510686
Product Dimensions: 7 x 3.6 x 23.4 cm

Official web site of Thinkers Publishing

British Chess News

Category Archives: Games Analysis

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Minor Pieces 27: George Edward Wainwright Part 2

Minor Pieces 26: George Edward Wainwright Part 1

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Minor Pieces 15: Oliver Harcourt Labone

Minor Pieces 8: Cliff Bridle

Minor Pieces 6: William John Withers

Minor Pieces 5: Francis Ptacek

Minor Pieces 2: Alexander Sich

Fundamental Chess Strategy in 100 Games

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