Chess endings are an essential part of chess, where you try to convert your advantage, either material or positional, on the board to a full point, or if you are in an inferior position, you try to save the draw. The present volume will help you with some of the basic skills you need to improve at both.
Originally published at the beginning of the 20th century as part of a series for beginners on all phases of the chess game, this little book contains samples of all types of endgames that beginners or inexperienced players will greatly benefit from studying.
With 124 well-chosen positions, the author illustrates the fundamental knowledge of chess endgames that all players should master.
The material has been reexamined and lightly edited by FIDE Master Carsten Hansen.
This book was originally published by Routledge in 1900 as part of a series of short books on chess written for club standard players. It went through many editions over almost six decades, and has now been brought back to life for today’s readers by the industrious Carsten Hansen.
The book has been converted into algebraic notation, with computer generated image diagrams, and with the layout changed. You now get groups of four positions, two to a page, followed by a page with the four solutions. Carsten has also added some additional text and variations where he considered it helpful. There’s also a brief biography of Blake at the start of the book.
Here’s Blake’s preface.
A century and a quarter on, how well does this book stand up?
On the whole, pretty well, at least as far as the first part of the book, with 68 pawn endings, is concerned. Many novices will find it very helpful as long as they’re not put off by one or two caption errors.
We start with some basic positions which everyone should know before moving on to more complex examples. I decided to look at No. 52, which, according to Blake, ‘involves nice calculation of distances on both sides’.
Click on any move for a pop-up window.
I found a few problems with this, though, which are probably notation rather than analytical errors. ‘White to move, Black to draw’, we are told, correctly, although a more challenging option on Black’s 3rd move isn’t included. More importantly, White’s 7th move, as given, is a losing blunder (it may be a typo for Kb3 or Kb2), and Black’s 7th move returns the compliment.
These are, unfortunately, not the only issues. There are a few positions with incorrect captions and perhaps also incorrect positions. I rather suspect, for example, that the white king in No. 70 should be on f6 rather than e6 to prevent an obvious alternative solution.
The second part of the book contains 56 miscellaneous positions covering a variety of endings. Again, although the selection might seem fairly random, intermediate level players will no doubt find it helpful. This is No. 113: White to move and win.
While it’s great that Carsten has made this and other vintage books available for modern readers, it’s a pity that it wasn’t possible for someone to have a quick look through to spot any errors before publication. Blake’s book was excellent for its day and was no doubt very helpful to many club players in the first half of the last century. There are now many other endgame books on the market which today’s club players will perhaps find more relevant. I’ve even written one myself: Chess Endings for Heroes, part of the Chess Heroes series here.
If you’re interested in chess history, the development of instructional materials in chess, or, like me, in Joseph Henry Blake, though, you’ll want a copy of this book. Book collectors would no doubt prefer an original, preferably a first edition.
You can buy it on Amazon here and read more about Blake here, with perhaps a series of Minor Pieces to follow at some point.
Richard James, Twickenham 28th January 2025
Richard James
ASIN : B0C1JB5JTG
Publisher : Alexander Game Books (9 April 2023)
I’m currently decluttering my house and came across this plaque at the bottom of a filing cabinet.
This was originally attached to an equipment cupboard at Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club (the two clubs merged in 1958). After becoming surplus to requirements it was used by Richmond Junior Chess Club for some time. After we stopped using it I decided I wanted to keep the plaque, resolving to find out more about the gallant and alliterative Major at some point.
And here we are. How do chess clubs choose their President? Presidents aren’t usually expected to do very much, just to provide an impressive name on your headed notepaper or, these days, on your website. Clubs might elect a famous player with connections to their club or area. They might also choose a local dignitary: perhaps the local MP or a prominent local politician. The President might also be a long-serving club member, or perhaps someone with the appropriate gravitas to represent the club to a wider public.
Major H H Hewitt wasn’t a famous player, nor did he appear to be a local dignitary. As the club (the third Twickenham Chess Club) had only been formed after World War 2, he wasn’t really a long-serving member. Perhaps his honour was a tribute to a distinguished military career.
In the past I’d tried looking for anyone of that name living in the Twickenham area, and then, looking slightly further afield, I found him in Hersham, south of Walton on Thames, west of Esher and Sandown Park racecourse. I’m sure you’d like to know more about him.
He was Harold Henry Hewitt, born on 18 June 1896 in Boston, Lincolnshire, the son of an Inland Revenue officer. The family seemed to move around a lot, possibly as a result of his father’s job. By 1901 they were in Oakham, Rutland before settling in Darlington, and in 1908 he was admitted to Darlington Grammar School. It’s not clear whether or not the family had split up by this point: in 1911 Harold, his mother and younger brother were in Darlington, while his father, now a supervisor for the Customs & Excise Department, was in London.
Harold, like many young men of his age, took the opportunity to serve his country, joining the Royal Field Artillery as a 2nd Lieutenant on 27 October 1915. On 1 July 1917 he was promoted to Lieutenant. He then met a Scottish girl, Georgina Gorrie, and they were married in Glasgow in 1919.
Sunday Post (Scotland) 12 October 1919
They soon moved to Edinburgh, where the 1921 Scottish Census found them, along with their 4 month old son John. They didn’t remain in Scotland long, relocating to Croydon where their twin daughters Joan and Muriel were born in 1925.
They were soon on the move again, this time to Colchester, where Harold swiftly ran up a string of motoring offences.
Newmarket Journal 01 October 1932
They moved yet again in 1934/35, to the newly built, and relatively modest, 1 Molesey Close Hersham, where Harold would remain for the rest of his life.
It’s not clear what his occupation was at this point, but he must have re-enlisted in the Artillery soon after the outbreak of war, rising to Captain and again to Major.
He wasn’t the only member of his family who saw service in World War 2. His son John joined the RAF Volunteer Reserves, becoming a Pilot Officer flying Lancaster bombers.
Surrey Advertiser 29 April 1944
In only a few weeks he had risen to the rank of Flight Lieutenant, and, at 00:24 on 15 June, took off on a pathfinder mission for some of the 330 aircraft attacking the railway installations at Douai, Cambrai and St Pol. The plane was attacked by night fighters and shot down, with the loss of all crew.
Pilot: Flt Lt John Henry Hewitt DFC (23)
Flt Eng: Plt Off Vincent Brian Crosby DFM (33)
Nav: Plt Off Harry Louis Wilson DFC (27)
Nav: Plt Off Robert Lonsdale Clenahan DFC (23)
Bomb Aimer: Plt Off Denis Flynn DFC (31)
WOp/Air Gnr: WO Walter Smith DFC (21)
Air Gnr: Flt Sgt Gilbert Valentine (Tony) Cottrell (23)
Air Gnr: Flt Sgt Albert Bouch DFM (21)
After the crash Major Hewitt sent a personal letter to the parents of the other crew members. As of 2010, the letter to Tony Cottrell’s mother was still in the family’s possession.
Information taken from WW2Talk.com (here) and AircrewRemembered.com (here).
You can only marvel at the courage of aircrews such as this one. Harold Hewitt’s gesture in writing to the other families suggests a man with a considerable generosity of spirit, rather in contrast to the man who, a decade or so earlier, was driving around Essex and Suffolk like Mr Toad, seemingly believing that he was above the law.
Here’s John’s probate record from 11 June 1945 (a year after his death). You’ll see that Harold is now described as a company managing director, so he must have left the Royal Artillery again by this point. I have no information as to the nature of the company he managed: perhaps it was something to do with furniture.
After that day, which must have changed his life, we have little information about Harold. We catch a glimpse of him in 1948, as Treasurer of an organisation (probably of local businesses) providing financial support to youth organisations in Hersham. He would, I suspect, have been pleased then that his cupboard was later used by Richmond Junior Chess Club.
I’ve only managed to find one reference to him as a chess player, in this match against Hastings from 1954, which you might recall having seen before in this Minor Piece.
Hastings and St Leonards Observer 11 September 1954
He played on Board 19 of 22, losing his game, which suggests he wasn’t an especially strong player. But no matter. He must have been a well respected member of Twickenham Chess Club to have been appointed President.
Perhaps he joined the club on its foundation soon after the end of the war, or maybe he was a more recent member. You might also ask why he chose Twickenham Chess Club. There weren’t any major clubs very close to Hersham, but I’d have thought Surbiton or Kingston, for example, would have been an easier journey. I’d like to think that playing chess offered him some consolation after the death of his son.
I don’t know how long he remained a member of Twickenham Chess Club, or whether he continued his membership when it amalgamated with Richmond Chess Club. I don’t recall ever hearing his name mentioned.
Harold died on 5 June 1966, just before his 70th birthday. Here again is his probate record.
Georgina later moved to nearby Byfleet, dying in 1974. Their daughters, Joan and Muriel, both had children and grandchildren. If anyone from the Hewitt family reads this I’d be happy to return the plaque to them, with gratitude for the service Harold’s cupboard provided over many years to both Richmond & Twickenham and Richmond Junior Chess Clubs.
Like many of his generation, Harold Henry Hewitt served in two world wars, in his case in the Royal Artillery. As he continued to use his military title he must have been proud of his war service. His only son, a member of the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, showed exceptional skill and bravery as a pilot, losing his life in active service.
Reading a story like this I’m always reminded of Lord Dunsany’s poem (British Chess Magazine April 1943).
One art they say is of no use;
The mellow evenings spent at chess,
The thrill, the triumph, and the truce
To every care, are valueless.
And yet, if all whose hopes were set
On harming man played chess instead,
We should have cities standing yet
Which now are dust upon the dead.
Sources and Acknowledgements:
ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Forces War Records
Scotland’s People
For several years in the 1930s, two blind players, Theodore Tylor and Rupert Cross, were amongst the competitors in the British Championship, restricted at that time to twelve players selected from the best in the country.
Tylor was a player of genuine master standard, competing with distinction against the best in the world, while Cross was a very strong county standard player. In addition, another blind player, Reginald Bonham, halfway between Tylor and Cross in age, was of similar strength to the latter, although he played most of his chess after the war. Tylor and Bonham were also formidable correspondence players, both winning the British Correspondence Championship on three occasions.
All three of these players had attended the same school, Worcester College for the Blind, where chess was promoted by their inspirational headmaster, GC Brown. This is his story.
George Clifford Brown was born on 29 May 1879, the son of a chemist and pharmacist from Brading on the Isle of Wight. His paternal grandfather, though, had been a master mariner from Yorkshire. In the 1901 census he, along with his brother John, was a pupil at Solent College in Lymington, just a short ferry ride from Yarmouth, on the other side of the Isle of Wight from Brading. By 1901 he was teaching at Shoreham Grammar School, on the Sussex coast, but he seems not to have stayed there long.
In 1902, George married Catherine Harvey Robertson Smith in Wealdstone, near Harrow, giving his profession as a schoolmaster and an address in Jersey. They would go on to have four children, Clifford (1906), Geoffrey (1909), Douglas (1911) and Joan (1913).
In 1905 something very strange seems to have happened, judging from these news items.
Western Gazette 21 April 1905Evening Standard & St James’s Gazette 05 July 1905
George’s sisters, Lilian and Muriel, ran a private school in Wealdstone called Hillside between 1900 and 1915: George might have been teaching there at some point, and might possibly, I suppose, have met Catherine there.
It seems he wasn’t suited to the world of journalism and publishing, and returned to teaching, by 1907 becoming one of the principals of Tollington Park College, a private school near Finsbury Park, in North London which had been founded by William Brown (as far as I know no relation) in 1879.
At the same time he was studying for an external degree at London University, graduating in 1910 with a second class degree in Modern European History.
University of London Student Records (ancestry.co.uk)
Here he is, and there, on his left, is Alfred Dudley Barlow, whom he would later meet over the chessboard on at least two occasions.
He was still at Tollington Park in the 1911 census, but left in 1912, in part due to young Douglas being unwell, and, in January 1913, started a new job as Headmaster of Worcester College for the Blind. A public school for boys with visual impairments, it was struggling financially at the time, and there were only five pupils there when he arrived. One of them was Theodore Tylor, who was already playing chess, and, as Brown was himself a chess enthusiast (he ran a club at his previous school) the two must have bonded.
Although he had only attended a small private school himself, Brown was a supporter of the Victorian and Edwardian Public School ethos, where excelling at games was considered almost as important as academic success. He was very keen to promote games at which the blind could compete on level terms with their sighted contemporaries, and settled on rowing and chess, which are both practised while seated. He also encouraged swimming and adaptive forms of football and cricket, and, Chris McCausland will be delighted to hear, would later introduce dancing lessons.
He soon started a chess club, encouraging all the boys to learn chess, and, by 1916, they were good enough to win the Worcestershire Public Schools Chess Championship for the first time, an event they would win on almost every occasion for more than twenty years.
The First Seventy Years: Worcester College for the Blind, 1866-1936 by Mary G Thomas
Every year a star player was invited to give a simultaneous display against the students, who were joined by players from other schools and clubs in the area.
Visiting simul givers included Alekhine, Maroczy, Réti, Kostich, Sultan Khan, Sir George Thomas, Mieses, and, in 1919, none other than Capablanca, who even lost a game to one of his sightless opponents.
Evesham Standard & West Midland Observer 01 November 1919
Here’s a photograph of the display in progress.
Chess Pie 2 (1927) via Neil Blackburn
The winner, Edward Ingram Reed (1899-1951), from Monmouthshire, who later became a solicitor, continued playing county chess, both over the board and by correspondence, until the outbreak of World War 2. He came from a working class background – his father was a platelayer on the Great Western Railway – so must have been on some sort of scholarship. What a great day this must have been for him.
He’s seated on the right in this family photograph from about 1912.
We can also identify the college chess captain Vernon Charles Grimshaw (1901-1958), a headmaster’s son from London. By 1921 he was living in Brook Green, Hammersmith, just the other side of the park from where Amos Burn would move a few years later, and playing for West London Chess Club in matches against Richmond. He later became the Assistant General Secretary of the National Federation of the Blind.
Sadly, Reed’s game hasn’t survived, but this one has. Capa’s Stourport opponent might be considered rather unlucky to lose, having had the better of things most of the game. Click on any move in any game in this article for a pop-up window.
Brown later started to be involved with chess outside the college, taking up county chess and being elected Secretary of the Worcestershire County Chess Association.
In 1924 he took part in his first tournament, entering the 1st Class B section at Weston-Super-Mare.
The results were as follows:
(1) Percival John Lawrence (Reading) 7½/9;
(2) F A Richardson (London) 7;
(3-4) Mrs. Agnes Bradley Stevenson (London), Rev. Ernest Walter Poynton (Bath) 5½;
(5) Hiram James Horace Cope (Ilfracombe) 5;
(6) George Clifford Brown (Worcester) 4;
(7) Samuel Waterman Viveash (Bristol) 3½;
(8) Ernest Fowler Fardon (Birmingham) 3;
(9) Edward Buddel Puckridge (Kent) 2½;
(10) Francis Frederick Finch (Bristol) 1½.
The clergyman from Bath beat him with some smooth positional chess.
In 1926 Alekhine visited Worcester College for a simultaneous display. George Clifford Brown put up some stiff resistance in his game, only losing control at the end of the session when his opponent would have had just a few games left.
Chess Pie 2 (1927) via Neil Blackburn
Here’s Alekhine, with Brown on his right, and young Rupert Cross on the right of Brown, with other Worcester College pupils who took part in the display.
You can read the whole Chess Pie article, along with a lot of other interesting material in this article by Neil Blackburn (simaginfan).
In the 1926-27 season Brown achieved a significant success, winning the Worcestershire County Championship, a title his pupil Tylor had won in 1923-24 and 1924-25. Another pupil, Bonham would later take the title on no less than 18 occasions between 1939-40 and 1960-61. His immediate successor, though, was former Minor Piece subject Dr Abraham Learner.
The school’s prowess at chess was recognised nationally in 1928 when they were awarded a British Chess Federation Schools Shield along with an annual medal to be awarded to the College champion.
George Clifford Brown returned to tournament chess over Easter 1929, but he finished in last place in the First Class C section at Ramsgate, won by one of the competitors in the inaugural London Boys’ Championship.
That winter Brown ventured to Hastings for the first time, scoring 3/9 in the Major B section, where he lost to his pupil Rupert Cross, and drew with the previously mentioned Alfred Barlow.
But on 19 May 1930 George Clifford Brown’s life was struck by tragedy, with the sudden death of his wife Catherine, who had, beyond her family duties, played an important role in helping her husband run the school.
The Evesham Standard (24 May 1930) paid tribute: She was a genial and charming hostess, a lady well fitted to have a kind of maternal oversight of a company of blind students, unfailingly cheerful and gracious in all sorts of circumstances, and mindful in every way of the peculiar claims which are made upon one occupying such a position. She will be greatly missed by many intimate friends, and particularly by the students and those chess players of the Midlands and West of England who were wont to gather at the College for chess matches.
This blow didn’t curb his interest in chess, which still remained popular at the school. In November a pupil, William George Coppage (1912-1985), the son of a house painter (1911) and builder (1921) scored a victory against Znosko-Borovsky.
Stratford-upon-Avon Herald 14 November 1930
George Clifford Brown was back at Hastings that New Year, with a similar result in the same section as the previous year. This time he lost to both Cross and Barlow, as well as to the winner, the future Sir Richard ‘Otto’ Clarke, who would much later devise the first British Chess Federation grading system.
On 7 February 1931 Worcester College hosted a 100 board match between Worcestershire and Warwickshire. The top 25 boards counted towards the South Midlands County Championship.
Evesham Standard & West Midland Observer 14 February 1931
You’ll notice that Brown lost to Ritson Morry on Board 9, while Bonham won his game on Board 4.
Architect Arthur Troyte Griffith, on Board 6, was a close friend of Edward Elgar (who, as a young man, had taught music at Worcester College) and the dedicatee of one of his Enigma Variations, which you can hear here conducted by another of Elgar’s great friends, Sir Adrian Boult.
Three of Brown’s children were also involved: Clifford and Geoffrey both played on lower boards, neither troubling the scorer. Their sister Joan was on hand to welcome the players and provide refreshments, also making a presentation to the Warwickshire top board to mark his forthcoming retirement to Hastings.
Warwickshire won the match by the narrowest possible margin, but, of greater significance, it was announced that the school would be hosting the British Championships that August, a considerable coup, not just for the Headmaster but for the whole school community.
The school community was well represented: Tylor played in the Championship, won by Yates, just ahead of Sultan Khan and Winter. Cross was in the Major Open, won by the young Vera Menchik, while Bonham shared third place in the Major Open Reserves, with Ritson Morry in mid-table and BH Wood bringing up the rear.
One of their students also took part: Barnet Ellis (1914-1974), born in Leeds, the son of a Ukrainian Jewish tailor, took park in the 2nd Class B section, where his opponents included future Leicester chess historian Don Gould and a young Russian boy named Rostislav Chernikeeff. Barnet later gained a 2nd Class Degree in Jurisprudence from Oxford University, going on to run a solicitor’s practice in Pickering, North Yorkshire.
The British Chess Magazine (September 1931) commented:
According to the rota it was the privilege of the Midland Counties Chess Union to hold the Congress in its area. It is fortunate that the Union had ideal opportunities of carrying out the Federation’ ambitious programme. Worcester has many attractions which appealed to the public as the large number of entries and visitors amply showed. The College for the Blind afforded the best accommodation. It is situated in a pleasant position outside the town. The various rooms and grounds were placed at the disposal of the visitors for every purpose that could be devised. The lounge and swimming pool especially were luxuries not often to be found at a Chess Congress. Above all the Union is to be congratulated upon its organising officers! A. J. Mackenzie, president of the Union, as an old hand experienced in Congresses, was probably quite at ease in leaving the arrangements in the hands of the headmaster of the College, G. C. Brown, M.A. It is only fair to state that the exceptional success of the Congress was due to the quiet organisation and to the general courtesy and welcome that was extended to every one by Mr. Brown and the members of his family and staff who outdid one another in their efforts to make things go smoothly.
You can find full details of the event, along with some games, on BritBase here.
One of Worcester College’s regular match opponents were Oxford University. In 1931 Brown faced a future multiple Scottish champion, coming away with half a point.
He was back again at Hastings, again in the Major B section, over the 1931-32 New Year, where his opponents included my distant kinsman Alfred Lenton.
Brown missed Hastings in 1932-33, but was again in the Major B section in 1933-34, where he shared last place.
He went down to a crushing defeat in this game against former Sussex champion Harold Stephenson.
The following year he made what would be his final appearance at Hastings, where he unfortunately lost all his games, but this was a pretty strong international tournament, featuring Koblents, who would later achieve fame as Tal’s coach, and the eccentric Nazi Diemer, of Blackmar-Diemer Gambit fame.
The winner was a Belgian international player who had no problem outclassing the tail-ender.
In August 1935 George Clifford Brown took part in a small tournament in Ludlow. Playing in the top section, his opponents included future chess author and historian R Nevil Coles, whom I played many years later.
Hastings and St Leonards Observer 24 August 1935
His son Geoffrey also took part, winning a prize in the Second Class section.
This was to be his last tournament. We can sum him up as a strong club and county player who was rather out of his depth when competing against stronger opposition in the 1st Class sections at Hastings and elsewhere. It’s unfortunate that I’ve only been able to find draws and losses so far: if you have the scores of any of his wins I’d love to see them.
1936 marked the 70th anniversary of the school and a book was published marking the event.
There were several mentions of chess, and, at the end, a list of the school’s chess successes.
The First Seventy Years: Worcester College for the Blind, 1866-1936 by Mary G Thomas
(The last name should be ARN Cross, not ARH Cross.)
I think that you’ll agree that these statistics are extraordinary, considering that this was a school which had only 5 (or 3, sources differ) pupils when Brown arrived, and, at its peak only 45 or so, and that they were all either totally blind or had severely limited vision.
The number who went on to study at Oxford or Cambridge, also listed in the book, is also notable, with some of them, including Bonham, the son of a butcher, and Ellis, the son of a tailor, coming from non-academic backgrounds.
George Clifford Brown was clearly an outstanding and inspirational headmaster, but by now age was catching up with him, and the strain of running the school was perhaps affecting his health. In 1938 he was forced to take early retirement.
Birmingham Daily Gazette 24 June 1938
Brown died on 16 July 1944, at the age of 65
Birmingham Mail 19 July 1944
George Clifford Brown should be remembered as a pioneer of chess for the blind as well as a devoted and popular headmaster for a quarter of a century.
In the rowing world, too, he’s remembered as a pioneer of adaptive rowing, now known as pararowing, and thus as a pioneer of the whole concept of parasports. I’m sure he’d have been delighted to see the success of the Paralympics today, but perhaps also disappointed that not more has been done to promote chess for children with visual impairments.
On the surface, and wearing my chess hat, everything seems wonderful. Brown was clearly an extraordinary man who was passionate about chess, passionate about his pupils, and passionate about helping them thrive as sightless people in a sighted world. Wearing my rowing hat, if I had one, I would no doubt reach the same conclusion.
Behind the scenes, though, there were problems, which grew more acute after Catherine Brown’s premature death in 1930.
In 1931 the school received its first full inspection since 1915. Although it was, in general, highly favourable, a few suggestions were made as to how it might improve.
There was a concern about the use of unqualified staff: Reg Bonham had recently returned after completing his Oxford degree to teach mathematics and Braille, while the Oxford Rower LCR Balding had also joined without a teaching qualification. In 1936 he would marry Joan Brown. There were also suggestions that the organisation of the school was unsatisfactory, that the curriculum was too narrow, and that the academic standards in some subjects could be improved.
It’s notable that the 1928 prospectus included eight photographs of rowing and six photographs of chess, compared with seven photographs of classrooms and one of the school play. While this was no doubt wonderful for the boys who excelled at rowing or chess, or, in the case of Rupert Cross, both, there would surely have been doubts about whether they had their priorities right, and whether they should be doing more to ensure academic success rather than training students to live the life of a leisured Edwardian gentleman. It’s a debate which is still extremely relevant today, a hundred years on.
One of the pupils who gained a lot from chess was John (surname not available) who, in 1935, wrote (I’ve corrected a few mistakes):
Foremost in winter comes the inevitable chess. This fascinating game attracts almost universal interest in the college and matches frequently take place between the college teams and other clubs including, Oxford University, Birmingham City and many others. We have also held the Worcestershire Public Schools Championship for many years, and in 1928, carried off a shield awarded by the British Chess Federation. We also compete in several other chess leagues, and it may also be noted that in the last sixteen years the college has provided Oxford University with several chess champions. Tournaments and informal instruction circles are arranged; whilst chess masters are invited to give lectures and to play the members of the school simultaneously. During my short residence here I have met over the board: Sultan Khan (former British Champion), Maroczy, Sir George Thomas (Present British Champion), TH Tylor (a well-known competitor at the Hastings Congress and an Old Boy of the college), Herr Mieses and Fräulein Sonja Graf (the girl champion of Germany).
Another growing issue was one of discipline, which could be lax at times. Brown was warm, empathetic and approachable, taking a full part himself in all school activities, and clearly being held in great affection by all his pupils. But he wasn’t a strict disciplinarian, and perhaps the boys sometimes took advantage of him.
While efforts were made to broaden the curriculum and improve academic standards, the organisational problems were not addressed, and, the school archives reveal, their financial position was gradually spiralling out of control.
In 1936 the governors, concerned about the deteriorating situation as well as Brown’s nepotism, decided to take action. Brown had expensive tastes in food and drink, which he expected the school to pay for, and the local butchers and wine merchants were owed significant amounts of money. Joan, who had been employed as his housekeeper, had her post terminated, and his son (I presume this was Geoffrey, who was involved in rowing as well as chess) lost his retainer for contributions to social activities. He was also told that his own employment would be terminated by his sixtieth birthday: in fact he left slightly earlier than that. All this must have been extremely distressing to him, but schools have to do what they need to do to survive and be successful.
What happened after his departure? Chess still continued to be prominent in the school for some time, as would be expected with Reg Bonham on the staff. Perhaps the strongest player from this period was John Anthony Wall, who represented Oxford in the 1949 and 1951 Varsity Matches before becoming Britain’s first High Court Judge.
Years later, a pupil at The King’s School Worcester, Malcolm (again surname not available), recalled his contacts with his blind contemporaries:
I was at Worcester Kings School as a boarder from 1949/58, and have memories of playing chess for the school in matches versus the College for the Blind who produced good players under the excellent guidance of Mr RW Bonham, who beat me soundly (at chess, that is!) in 26 moves in a Worcester & District league match on the 8th December 1956.
In that same 1956/57 chess season, 5 boys from the College were entered into the Worcestershire County Individual Junior Championship (Under 18s). Between them they produced one of the finalists – Jones – who lost to me on 17th March 1957 in an exciting 44 move game which started at the College on 13th December and had to be adjourned because of time.
In 1987 Worcester College merged with Chorleywood College (for girls with little or no sight) to form a new school: New College Worcester. Do they still play chess? The website mentions board games and a Scrabble club, but there’s no specific mention of chess.
George Clifford Brown was a remarkable man who, although, like all of us, he had his faults, undoubtedly transformed the lives of many boys who were blind or had limited vision during his 25 year tenure as Headmaster of Worcester College. His opinion that chess is something which can help young people with disabilities integrate into the outside world is something that we’ve perhaps forgotten today. He would, I think, be saddened to see how, a hundred years later, so few children with visual handicaps seem to play the game.
His story prompted quite a few thoughts.
In the 1930s, while the blind boys in Worcester were playing chess so successfully, you might recall that the boys from Desford Approved School near Leicester were also taking part in competitive chess with success. You can read their story here and here. Although the two schools were dealing with very different pupils, they were both using chess to help disadvantaged boys, and both run by men who were considered progressive in many ways. There’s even a family connection. George’s youngest son Douglas Brown’s wife had a brother-in-law, an auctioneer in Market Harborough, who was distantly related to Sydney Gimson via the Symington soup and corsets family. It’s a small world.
I spent some years involved with what was, at first, a small family-run school which, although open to everyone who could pay, attracted a high proportion of children who, for a variety of reasons, didn’t fit in to mainstream schools. Comparing the two schools I can see quite a lot in common: many of the same strengths, and also perhaps some of the same weaknesses.
There’s also the wider question, which I alluded to earlier, as to whether secondary schools should focus purely on academic attainment and future earning potential, or whether they also have a responsibility to provide cultural and social capital. This is discussed in indirect terms, for instance, in Alan Bennett’s play The History Boys. I suspect I know what Brown’s view would be and, on a personal level, I think I’d agree with him.
With regard to children with disabilities, to what extent should we be helping them meet other children who share their disabilities, and to what extent should we be finding ways to help them make contact with the wider world? Ideally, of course, you want to do both, but perhaps our education system could do more of the latter.
Leading on from this, should we in the chess community be doing more to use chess to help children with a variety of disabilities? One of the great aspects of chess, for me, is that it has few barriers of this nature. We’re not just talking about children with visual disabilities, but also children with auditory and physical disabilities, not to mention children diagnosed with conditions such as ASD (autism) and ADHD. On several occasions I’ve tried to arrange meetings in schools to discuss this, but have found no interest in anyone even talking to me. Perhaps the demand from within schools isn’t there, but it certainly should be. If you know me well you’ll know my views.
You’ll be meeting some of the young chess players from Worcester College again in future Minor Pieces.
Sources and Acknowledgements
If you’re interested in taking the story further, there’s a lot of material readily available online.
If your interest is specifically on the chess side, I’d recommend the three-part series written by Neil Blackburn, from which I took two of the photographs here. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
If you’re interested in the college itself, start with The First Seventy Years: Worcester College for the Blind, 1866-1936 by Mary G Thomas, which you can read online here.
Then there’s the centenary history: The Experiment in Education; the History of Worcester College for the Blind 1866-1966 by Donald Bell. You can read some of the pages here, but, for copyright reasons, not all are available.
More importantly, there’s a PhD thesis, ‘They can because they think they can?’: The education of pupils at two secondary schools for the blind, 1920-58, by Jeanette Normanton Erry (2011), which can be read online here. Jeanette, who is currently the Head of Outreach at New College Worcester, had access to the college archives, and paints a much more rounded picture of Brown than that in the official publications of the time.
Finally, there’s this page on the school website, written to celebrate the school’s 150th anniversary in 2016, from which I took the chess memories of John and Malcolm quoted above.
Other sources:
ancestry.co.uk (Reed family tree)
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Wikipedia
BritBase (John Saunders)
New College Worcester website
YouTube
Unless you’re interested in British chess in the first four decades of the last century you might not have heard of Reginald Pryce Michell (1873-1938).
Carsten Hansen hadn’t heard of him either, until he came across a collection of his best games written by Julius du Mont and first published in 1947. Acknowledgement was given to LW Barden, who read the proofs: and, of course, he’s still writing about chess 78 years later.
Michell was one of England’s leading players for several decades, and, in the 1920s and 1930s, a regular participant in the British Championship and Hastings, along with other seaside holiday tournaments. Back in those days at Hastings and elsewhere, the top section would comprise a couple of world class players, a few minor European masters, some of England’s top exponents and perhaps one or two enthusiastic amateurs, so Michell was able to cross swords with many of the greats of his day.
He had draws to his credit against four world champions, Capablanca, Alekhine, Euwe and Botvinnik, as well as wins against the likes of Bogoljubov, Sultan Khan, Réti and most of the top British players from Blackburne via Atkins and Yates through to Alexander and Golombek, all of whom feature in these pages. I’d consider this a record that almost anyone could be proud of. EdoChess has him at over 2300 for more than 40 years and above 2400 in the early years of the last century.
Carsten Hansen thought it worthwhile to investigate further. Here we have a handsome hardback (there’s also a paperback edition which contains rather less material) comprising many of his best games, along with a biography and other material.
I may well write much more about Michell at some point in the future, as he was a member of Kingston Chess Club and lived in my part of the world, but for now I’ll tell you a bit more about the book.
We start with a brief biography written by du Mont, but including a tribute from one of his contemporaries, EG Sergeant: well worth reading to give you an idea of the man behind the moves. Then we have 36 original games from du Mont’s book. His, rather shallow and inaccurate in places, annotations have been retained, but Hansen has added his own annotations based on current opening theory and computer analysis. For me, the most interesting aspect of the book is the comparison between the two sets of notes, demonstrating just how much chess has changed over the past 80 years.
Following that, there are another 36 games, annotated by Hansen, the last five of which don’t appear in the (earlier) paperback edition, along with another new feature: 36 puzzles based on the games in the book.
The author helpfully provides indexes of openings, ECO codes and players at the back of the book.
Michell was a quiet and studious man who played, for the most part, quiet and studious chess. Although the games in this book are all of interest, you won’t see all that much in the way of brilliant sacrificial attacks.
Du Mont judged this game, a victory with the black pieces against a future world championship candidate, perhaps his finest performance. Click on any move for a pop-up window.
Back in 1947 there were comments about what Michell had done to deserve a games collection, when many much stronger players hadn’t been honoured in that way. You might think they had, and still have, a point: if so I’d advise you to go away and write some of the missing books yourself. Michell, like many quiet people, had hidden depths.
I know there are many chess book enthusiasts who enjoy games collections of this type. If you fall into this category, or if you have an interest in British chess from that period, you won’t want to miss this well produced book. There are quite a few typos, but that probably won’t concern you very much.
Carsten Hansen should be congratulated for bringing du Mont’s original book back into print, and for his invaluable updates and additions. If what you’ve read about Michell has piqued your interest, don’t hesitate – and go for the hardcover version with the additional material.
You can read more about Michell and see some of his other games in this excellent article by Neil Blackburn.
R. P. Michell – A Master of British Chess: A forgotten chess master, Carsten Hansen and Julius du Mont, Publisher : CarstenChess (16 Mar. 2024), ISBN-13 : 978-8793812888
“The Sicilian Scheveningen Defense is a highly respected and flexible variation of the Sicilian Defense, characterized by the pawn structure Black adopts with pawns on e6 and d6. It arises after the moves 1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 d6 3. d4 cxd4 4. Nxd4 Nf6 5. Nc3 e6. This setup allows Black to maintain a solid central presence while keeping options open for dynamic counterplay.”
About the Author:
“Grandmaster Daniel Gormally is currently living in Alnwick, Northumberland, England.
Danny has been a chess professional for over twenty years, in which time he has played in many tournaments both in the U.K. and abroad. He has represented England in the European team championships and the Olympiad. He has taken a high placing in the British chess championships and on several occasions has been placed in a tie for second. He is also the two times winner of the English rapid play championships.
In 2005 he scored his final Grandmaster norm in a tournament in Gibraltar, where he scored a 2693 performance. In that tournament he played against several world-class grandmasters, including Nakamura, Aronian, Sutovsky and Dreev, and only lost one game.
He is also the author of several well-received chess books, including “A Year in the Chess World” and “Mating the Castled King”, one of the few western chess books in recent years to be translated into Chinese.
As an author he is known for his laid-back and humorous style, this is his fourth book for Thinkers Publishing.”
GM Danny Gormally
This book is divided into eighteen chapters:
Chapter 1 – Tabiyas
Chapter 2 – The Chess Detective
Chapter 3 – A historical perspective
Chapter 4 – Kasparov vs Anand 1995
Chapter 5 – Engine analysis
Chapter 6 – Training games vs the engine
Chapter 7 – Chef’s recommendations
Chapter 8 – Turbo calculation
Chapter 9 – Defusing the most dangerous lines
Chapter 10 – Evaluations
Chapter 11 – Scheveningen Problems
Chapter 12 – Online adventures in the Scheveningen
Chapter 13 – 6.Bg5
Chapter 14 – Keres vs Nakamura
Chapter 15 – Delving deeper
Chapter 16 – Pawn breaks/structures
Chapter 17 – Tips for playing the Scheveningen
Chapter 18 – Exercises
The Scheveningen is not a trendy variation but there are a number of elite level players who have been proponents of this Sicilian variation such as Garry Kasparov and the current World Champion Gukesh Dommaraju.
The author, Danny Gormally explains in the Introduction section that “this isn’t your average chess book and I don’t sift through each and every variation and line in the typical way of most openings tomes, partly because I don’t find such opening books particularly enjoyable to read so have no desire to inflict them on the reader either”.
This book is therefore not a theoretical treatise on the trendy theory or otherwise of the Scheveningen Sicilian. There is some theory but there is not a dense thicket of complex, variations chapter after chapter. The author aims to explain the typical ideas, plans and pawn structures in this opening: in this he largely succeeds.
Danny also gives general advice on how to study an opening and on how to improve at chess. He obviously advocates the use of strong chess engines but stresses that over reliance on engine preparation without understanding, learning how to calculate and evaluate is harmful.
Chapter 1
This is a short chapter that introduces a couple of key positions in the Scheveningen: here is one from the Classical variation:
Scheveningen Classical Tabiya
The modern way to play this position is 9…e5 which equalises: the explanation given by the author is logical and illuminating. The older, more traditional move 9…Bd7 is a perfectly acceptable alternative which is covered in Chapter 7.
In the chapter summary, the author gives some sensible advice:
“play some training games from that position, perhaps against the computer or against a training partner. Study the position on Chessbase or some other kind of program…. That way you get a feel for the most familiar and most important positions in that opening variation. But it must be said, though, that there is no substitute for practical experience…. you analyse those games afterwards – the trail-and-error advantage of that is quite huge.”
Chapter 2
This section is a key chapter where the author gives general advice on studying positions:
Why has my opponent played that move?
What possible plans do I have in this position?
If I concretely play A, how is my opponent going to respond?
Seven exciting and didactic games from the Scheveningen are analysed with an emphasis on the opening/early middlegame plans for both sides. Five of these are in the Classical line, one in the English Attack, one in the dangerous f4/Be3/Qf3 or g4 line.
Classical Variation
Bezgodov – Andreikin Chelyabinsk 2018 after 14.Rae1
This position is discussed at length with the plans for both sides considered. The game continued 14…Rad8 15. Kh1 Bc6 16.Bd3 Qd7
Bezgodov – Andreikin after 16…Qd7 Chelyabinsk 2019
This is a typical position from the Classical variation. White played the tempting 17.Qh3?! eyeing 18.e5 but black has a typical counter 17…e5! (“you should always have the central breaks on your radar”) and Black is slightly better and went on to win a good positional game in the ending.
Here is another typical tabiya from the Classical variation.
Heberla – Moranda after 16…Re8 Polish Championships 2021
White played 17.Nd1!? which is the computer’s top suggestion. The plan and its resulting ideas and positions are discussed by the author which is instructive. 17…Bd8! was played and is a deft manoeuvre neutralising white’s attacking ideas.
Matlakov – Pichot after 17.Nd1 Bullet game Chess.com 2020
Here Black played the tempting 17…d5? (instead of the patient 17…Bd8) 18.Bxf6! Bxf6 19.e5 with a winning game: buy the book to see the denouement.
English Attack
Black has just responded 9…d5 after White’s queenside castling.
English Attack Vallejo Pons Francisco vs Anand Vishy
From the author: “A typical liberating central break, and it is my belief that this is the most reliable equaliser in this variation.”
Danny discusses the two major branches here:
A. 10.exd5 Nxd5! 11.Nxd5 Qxd5 12.c4 Qd6!=
B. 10.Qe1 e5! 11.Nxc6 bxc6 12.exd5
Here is another dangerous White system that can be defanged with a little detective work:
Ghinda – Espig Naleczow 1979
White can play two very aggressive moves which are dealt with in the same way:
8.Qf3 e5!
Ghinda-Espig Variation 8.Qf3 e5
9.Nf5!? (9.Nb3?! Bg4! 10. Qf2 d5! opening up the game as white has lost time with his queen) 9…Bxf5 (removing a piece that has moved 3 times) 10.exf5 Nbd7= Black has excellent development with Rc8 to follow.
8.g4 e5!
Ghinda-Espig 8.g4 e5
The central strike completely disrupts White’s attacking build-up. 9.Nf5 Bxf5 (removing the dangerous knight that has moved 3 times) 10.gxf5
Ghinda-Espig Variation Position after 10.gxf5
Superficially, this position looks good for white with the half open g-file, bishop pair and more space: he only needs to play Qf3, 0-0-0 and Rg1 with an excellent position. However, Black is well developed, is to move, and has two excellent plans.
A. 10…Nbd7 11.Qf3 Rc8 (already eyeing up an exchange sacrifice on c3)
B. 10…exf4 11.Bxf4 Qb6! (A lovely disruptive move eyeing the weak dark squares and exploiting White’s lack of development, a typical idea in many openings particularly in the Sicilian) 12.Qd2 Qxb2 13. Rb1 Qa3 unclear
Taking Danny’s general advice here, the reader should analyse this unclear position on their own and evaluate the resulting positions. Use the engine to check your work but don’t use the engine as a crutch all the time which can lead to laziness.
Chapter 3 – A historical perspective
The author puts the opening into its historical context citing Max Euwe as one of the major developers of the Scheveningen. Paul Keres’ 6.g4 is introduced with a crushing win by Keres over Efim Bogoljubov in 1943. Danny restores the Black players’ sanity with a excellent game by Garry Kasparov holding Anatoly Karpov in their first World Championship match in Moscow 1984.
Keres Attack after 8.Rg1
Kasparov played the interesting 8…h5!? and drew an exciting tussle.
Modern theory prefers the immediate central counterattack with 8…d5! which the author recommends.
Chapter 4 – Kasparov vs Anand 1995
This is an historical chapter with games from the Kasparov – Anand match in 1995. All three games covered are high quality encounters including a fine victory by Anand in game 9. The reviewer won’t say anymore as these games are fairly well known and the book covers them well.
Chapter 5 – Engine analysis
This short chapter discusses the pros and cons of using an engine in analysis. Clearly using an engine is a vital tool but “too much dependence on chess engines, as I know from my own experience, can make you lazy and you don’t activate your own thinking processes.”
“It is vital to do your own analysis….”
Four combative tussles are subjected to engine analysis which is illuminating to say the least.
Chapter 6 – Training games vs the engine
Four games are included with the author playing White: two in the Keres attack, 1 in the Sozin and 1 in the English attack.
The last game with the engine defending against the English attack is an excellent counterattacking game.
Chapter 7 – Chef’s recommendations
This is an important chapter where the author gives his recommended lines against White’s most dangerous tries:
Keres attack
English attack
Sozin attack
Classical variation
I won’t give any more spoilers here: buy the book to find out.
Chapter 8 – Turbo calculation
The author states: “In this chapter I want to test, and hopefully turbo-charge the readers’ calculation. Calculation is so important, and all the better younger players now work on this aspect of the game.”
Six exciting positions are given and the reader is invited to calculate the consequences of a particular move. Here is example 4:
Naiditsch – Graf Bundesliga 22-23 Position after 14.Bd2
The author asks: is 14…d5 15.exd5 Nb6 good for Black or not ?Calculate and check your answer in the book.
The chapter summary gives some useful concrete tips.
Chapter 9 – Defusing the most dangerous lines
In this chapter the author plays training games with Black against the engine, sees what the engine does to defeat him, then switches colours to see how it manages to defuse these “dangerous” attempts. The Classical and Sozin lines are covered. The importance of move order is also highlighted in certain lines.
Chapter 10 – Evaluations
“So, I would strongly recommend that you spend time checking your games and get into the habit of evaluating positions. If you don’t know how to evaluate positions then what is the point of calculating, as you won’t know what to aim for anyway?”
There are 6 tough positions to evaluate.
Here is the second position:
Nepomniachtchi – Duda World Blitz St Petersburg 2018
The solution is in the book.
Chapter 11 – Scheveningen Problems
“In this chapter I am going to pose you problems relating to the course. How sharp are you tactically? Let’s find out! And don’t be concerned if you get a lot of these wrong. I probably would as well. The main thing is not that you get them right, but that it gets you thinking about the opening.”
Here is the last of 11 positions:
Scheveningen Classical after 13.Bd3
Chapter 12 – Online adventures in the Scheveningen
Danny dissects four of his on-line games, three as Black and one as White in the Scheveningen.
The chapter summary is sensible advice.
Chapter 13 6.Bg5
This is an important chapter as 6.Bg5 can lead to transpositions to the Richter-Rauzer or the Najdorf or a hybrid Sicilian.
The reader should examine these games/move orders carefully.
Here is a good example:
Ivanov Rostislav – Gabrielian Artur St Petersburg 2014
8…e5! disrupts White’s attacking build-up
Chapter 14 Keres vs Nakamura
In this chapter, Gormally discusses Nakamura’s approach when facing the Keres Attack. The main theoretical recommendation is this book is 6…h6, but Nakamura plays 6…a6 and b5. This line is very dangerous for Black but just about playable. The chapter summary shines some light: “Computers have shown that most opening lines are defendable, and even though Black is under pressure in this early a6 line against the Keres attack, the counterattacking possibilities are obviously there.”
Chapter 15 – Delving deeper
In this section, the author discusses one of the key lines in the Keres attack. But before analysing two interesting games, Danny gives some general advice.
“Not that it is particularly productive to prepare for hours on end before a chess game, at all. I firmly believe that chess players spend too much time preparing for opponents, and not enough time preparing themselves….. it is clearly responsible to do SOME preparation.”
The line is question occurs after these moves:
1.e4 c5 2.Nf3 e6 3.d4 cxd4 4.Nxd4 Nf6 5.Nc3 e6 6.g4 h6 7.h4 Nc6 8.Rg1 d5!
There are two critical lines:
9. exd5
9.Bb5
Buy the book to learn more.
Chapter 16 – Pawn breaks/structures
Fourteen excellent examples are given.
Here is the sixth example:
Grischuk – Duda Chess.com 2018
8…?
Chapter 17 – Tips for playing the Scheveningen
This chapter gives some useful general advice on studying openings and preparation. Also included is general advice on improving at chess.
Chapter 18 – Exercises
The book finishes with an excellent set of 25 exercises: find the best move.
Here is exercise 8 (Black to play):
Gwaze – Ponomariov FIDE World Cup 2011 Position after 12.Kb1
Summary
This is an unusual book in its structure with a pot-pourri of chapters on different topics. It is not a traditional opening survey book which is the book’s strength and its weakness. The book is packed full of good advice on the main variations of the Scheveningen Sicilian concentrating on typical plans; pawn structures; manoeuvres as well as some concrete variations. The book also gives excellent advice on how to study openings generally and on how to improve at chess. The reviewer feels that a really ambitious player would need more details of concrete lines which the author acknowledges and Danny gives advice on how to build up a database of games that would cover all the major theoretical lines.
The reviewer recommends this excellent book.
FM Richard Webb, Basingstoke, Hampshire, 24th December 2024
If you share my interest in the subject of child prodigies, I’d probably start by referring you to this article by Edward Winter.
One name missing from this article, though, is that of Harry Jackson, who, in the late 1870s, was billed as the Yorkshire Morphy.
You might have met him briefly in my previous Minor Piece, but I’m sure you want to know where he came from, and what happened next.
Our story starts in what was in the 19th century the thriving mill town of Dewsbury in West Yorkshire, south of Leeds and Bradford, north east of Huddersfield.
Among those working in the cloth industry in the middle of the century was John Jackson. He and his wife Hannah had four sons and a daughter. While two of his sons, Samuel and Joshua, graduated into the middle classes, becoming solicitor’s clerks, the other boys pursued different careers. Abraham worked as a labourer before emigrating to Canada where he became a farmer. John, the youngest son, became (like my paternal grandfather in Leicester) a painter and decorator.
It was John who was the chess player, although I’d guess the whole family played socially. He and his wife, another Hannah, had a large family, three of whom played competitive chess. Harry, the Yorkshire Morphy, was his oldest son, born 16th December 1863. We’ll return to him later.
The next chess player in the family was William Ewart Jackson (1867-1951), his name suggesting that the family were supporters of the Liberal Party.
William (known as Willie) played for Dewsbury in the 1880s before moving to Leeds, where he worked for William Pape, a firm of glass merchants, and joining the local club. He was active in Leeds chess, both over the board and correspondence, until at least 1918.
Huddersfield Daily Examiner 15 February 1915
In what may have been one of his last matches (the Woodhouse Cup was suspended between 1916 and 1919) he was privileged to watch Atkins beating Yates in masterly fashion on top board.
Here are two games. Click on any move in any game in this article for a pop-up window.
White unnecessarily sacrificed a piece on move 39 when he might have held by going after the a-pawn.
The youngest of the chess-playing Jackson brothers was Joshua (1878-1935).
Joshua had an unusual competitive chess career, most of it taking place towards the end of his life.
There’s a J Jackson playing alongside Harry for Dewsbury in 1889, but it’s not clear whether this was John or Joshua.
It seems, though, that he only really started to take chess seriously after the First World War. In 1921 he entered the Yorkshire Championship, and also ventured to Manchester for the Northern Counties championship, where he was rather out of his depth, scoring only 1/7 against opponents such as Yates and Wahltuch, who shared first prize.
He was also playing correspondence chess, in 1922 winning his game for Yorkshire against Eric Augustus Coad-Pryor, whose father was at the time Vicar of Hampton Hill.
In 1923 he played again in the Northern Counties Championship, this time in Liverpool. That year the top section was a strong master tournament headed by Mieses, Maroczy, Thomas and Yates. Joshua played in the Major section, scoring 4½/9. Much interest was caused by the participation of 15-year-old Gerald Abrahams, who beat him in the first round.
In 1925 Scarborough Chess Club decided to run what they hoped would be the first of an annual series of tournaments over the Whitsun holiday. Joshua entered the major tournament, which was split into A and B sections along with another group for late entrants. The top two players in each section advanced to the play-offs.
Not all the results were recorded, but we know that he drew with Frank Schofield of Leeds, who won both his section and the play-offs, and beat both Sydney Meymott and Stephen Ludbrooke of Rotherham. As he didn’t qualify for the play-offs, I’d guess he may well have been third in the Major A section. A highly commendable result for someone in his late forties with, as far as I can tell, little competitive experience.
The 1926 Scarborough tournament was graced by the presence of the great Alekhine, who duly won the top section. Joshua again played in the Major, this time coming second to Edith Holloway in his section, and, second again in the play-off for 4th, 5th and 6th places. There were always several ladies competing in Scarborough.
I note that J Jackson of Dewsbury’s Yorkshire Terriers won a lot of prizes in the Belfast Dog Show that year. Is this also Joshua, I wonder?
He didn’t take part in 1927, but was back again in 1928, scoring 5/9 in his section of the Major tournament.
In 1929 they were struggling for strong players, due, in part, to the local corporation withdrawing their support, so the top section was very much a mixed affair. There were two genuine masters, Tartakower and Sir George Thomas, two strong amateurs in Harold Saunders and Victor Wahltuch, and four lesser players, one of who was Joshua Jackson. Unexpectedly, he had made the big time late in life.
While he was no match for the top players, he managed a win and two draws against the other lesser lights of the tournament, scoring a respectable 2/7.
The games were all recorded by Tinsley and have now been published in a book by Tony Gillam and by John Saunders (no relation to Harold) on BritBase.
Joshua played the Old Indian Defence too passively against both Saunders and Wahltuch and was duly squashed.
Here’s the Saunders game.
Against both Tartakower and Thomas he sacrificed a piece unsoundly thinking he was going to regain it but missing a fairly obvious tactic.
Here’s the Tartakower game.
He played out a steady, uneventful draw against Edith Holloway, concluding in a level pawn ending. Against Bolland he seemed to agree a draw in a winning position with two extra pawns.
His one win came from an instructive ending, when his opponent chose the wrong queen trade, going for a lost rather than a drawn pawn ending. There were further mutual blunders on move 42.
Among the other competitors was the 15-year-old Maurice Winterburn, also from Dewsbury, who may well have travelled there with Joshua.
Scarborough hosted the British Championships in 1930, although the championship itself was replaced by an international tournament. Joshua didn’t take part this time, but continued to play both over the board and by correspondence into the 1930s.
Chess was now becoming increasingly popular with teenage boys, and Joshua, as Dewsbury’s star player, served as a mentor to the youngsters coming through the door.
One of those was Maurice Child, who joined as a 15-year-old in 1932, and, 75 years later, had very fond memories of Joshua Jackson.
The outstanding personality between the two world wars was Josh Jackson. A fine player, among the top half-dozen in Yorkshire, and a great analyst. He was always ready to teach any young player and could play several games simultaneous and blindfold!
He was a barber and there was always on show in the shop a board with the latest position in his current correspondence game.
But it’s Harry you really want to know about, so we need to return to Dewsbury.
His father John first attended the annual meeting of the West Yorkshire Chess Association in 1876. Both John and Harry would also attend every year between 1877 and 1880.
In January 1877 John and Harry travelled to Lincolnshire, both taking part in the Second Class section of the inaugural Lincoln County Chess Association meeting.
The Chess Player’s Chronicle reported on this event.
The Westminster Papers added that “Master H Jackson is a young gentleman of promise, aged 13, and is likely to be heard from again in the world of Chess”. For the winner, Abraham Cockman, see this discussion.
It’s easy to forget, in these days of pre-teen grandmasters, how unusual it was for even 13-year-olds to take part in chess competitions, and interesting to note how much attention young Harry received at the time.
Inspired by this success, John was inspired to give young Harry a trial game against Samuel Walter Earnshaw at Leeds Chess Club a few weeks later.
Leeds Mercury 15 February 1877
At the gathering of the West Yorkshire Chess Association, there was concern that the strain of match play was too much for one so young.
Bradford Daily Telegraph 30 April 1877
Try telling that to Bodhana or Ethan.
In December a delegation from Huddersfield Chess Club led by John Watkinson, who would found the British Chess Magazine in 1881, visited the Dewsbury Working Men’s Club to assess their chess players. Watkinson took on ten of them, including both John and Harry Jackson, in a simul.
Harry’s game was unfinished but Watkinson thought he could win. Stockfish agrees with his assessment.
Harry played in Lincolnshire again over the New Year, but this time was less successful, as the Chess Player’s Chronicle reported.
The winner was Thomas Walter Marriott, not, as was reported in some sources, Arthur Towle Marriott. You’ll also note that Mary Rudge finished 3rd.
An interesting feature of this event was a displacement tournament, where the bishops and knights started on each other’s squares, an early precursor of Chess960.
A chess club had now started in Dewsbury, with Harry finishing in second place in their first tournament, and playing on top board in their first match, against Huddersfield.
John Watkinson visited again for another simul: this time Harry put up rather less resistance, inadvisedly choosing an unsound gambit as early as move 2..
After winning a prize in the West Yorkshire gathering, Harry ventured to London for the Counties Chess Association meeting.
He did well to win both his games against Rev John De Soyres, a pretty strong player (2146 on EdoChess at the time), who would later emigrate to Canada. You can read more about him here.
In this game his opponent, whom I believe to be Frederick Orme Darvall, who had been Auditor-General of Queensland 1867-77, but was by that time living in London, overlooked a mate in one.
Harry’s participation must have caused quite a stir, not just because of his age but because of his background as the son of a painter and decorator from Yorkshire. It was also not without controversy.
Batley Reporter and Guardian 10 August 1878
I like the description of John here, who sounds very much like some (but, I hasten to add, not all) chess parents today.
After this trip to the capital Harry continued playing locally, and also by correspondence.
He lost this game against the blind player Henry Millard.
Stockfish thinks it’s mate in 15, not mate in 11, but never mind.
In November 1879 he took the top board in a match between Dewsbury and Wakefield, winning two games and drawing one against schoolmaster John William Young, who taught English and Music at Wakefield Grammar School. John played in the same match, on bottom board, but was only able to conclude one game, which he lost.
In this game Harry’s speculative sacrifice proved successful.
In 1880 Harry returned to Lincolnshire, this time to Boston, where he won the 2nd class tournament of the Counties Chess Association.
But now he was playing less as he’d taken up a new hobby: composing chess problems. Between 1879 and 1881 many problems bearing his name appeared in a wide variety of publications. Two of them even won first prizes.
Problem solutions can be found at the end of the article.
Problem 1. #3 1st Prize (London) Brief 1880.
Problem 2. #2 1st Prize The Boys’ Newspaper 1881.
By 1881 Harry was living in London and involved with the City of London Club, taking on the role of librarian. In a match against St George’s he did very well to beat the very strong William Hewison Gunston 2-0. On 31st May the Chess Player’s Chronicle reported that ‘young Mr Jackson (lately Master Jackson of Dewsbury)’ had reached the last three in a handicap tournament before being eliminated.
I haven’t been able to locate him in that year’s census, but the rest of his family were all present and correct back in Dewsbury.
He remained in London for a few more years, playing, alongside his old friend Samuel Walter Earnshaw, in a simul against Mackenzie in 1882, and in 1883 beating Hugh William Sherrard in a match between the City of London 3rd team and Cambridge University, although he seems to have taken a break from composition.
At this point he may have moved back to Yorkshire. A couple of problems appeared in 1885, and then, in 1877, he turned up in York.
Yorkshire Evening Press 21 January 1887
Here he is at their 1887 AGM, resigning as secretary and being appointed vice-president, as well as winning their club championship and guaranteeing himself top board for the next year. Although this is the earliest mention I’ve been able to find he must have been there for several months.
Later records give the club venue as at Mr Jackson’s Cocoa House in High Ousegate, suggesting that this was Harry’s occupation at the time.
On 24 April 1889 the local unionist party held a major event. No less than 3000 people sat down for tea, followed by concerts, dancing, and a demonstration of living chess. Although this was not Harry’s party (he also played for York Liberals) he wasn’t above taking part. There was a pre-arranged game between two local dignitaries, and then a more serious game between Charles George Bennett and Harry Jackson.
York Herald 25 April 1889
The game was played to a pretty high standard considering the circumstances.
He had returned to the role of secretary of the Ebor Chess Club, but in 1890 he switched to the job of treasurer. The following year he resigned from that role and didn’t enter the club championship because he was away from home. But the 1891 census found him living in lodgings and working as a clerk, which suggests the cocoa house hadn’t been successful.
He continued to be very much involved with the Ebor club: as well as playing in matches he was giving regular simuls and lectures up until November 1894. After that, he seemed to disappear for a year or so.
In 1896 he turned up again – in another country.
Dundee Courier 24 February 1896
Here he is, having moved to Edinburgh. He would stay there some time.
The 1896/97 Scottish Electoral Register gives his address as 47 Comely Bank Place, north west of the city centre and not far from the Royal Botanic Gardens.
In this game from 1899 he overlooked a tactic.
In 1901 Harry was part of the Edinburgh team which won the Richardson Cup (Scottish KO Championship) for the first time.
Bridge of Allan Gazette 16 February 1901
And here, thanks to Edinburgh Chess Club, is the winning squad.
From https://en.chessbase.com/post/edinburgh-chess-club-200-anniversary. The 1901 Richardson Cup team members (Whitelaw was not in the five-player final) | John Moffat Studios, Edinburgh – courtesy of Edinburgh Chess Club
Harry Jackson is the burly (like his father) gentleman second from the left.
There’s no sign of Harry in the 1901 Scottish (or even the English) census. However (thanks to Alan McGowan for the information) he was in the 1901 Irish census, in Cork. He gave his occupation as a Commercial Traveller (Glass) and was living in a boarding house along with a number of other commercial travellers. He also said that he was married, but there was no sign of his wife.
In 1902 Edinburgh started two correspondence games against their counterparts in Rome, with Harry being one of the team.
Here’s the game in which Edinburgh played the white pieces, which concluded in early 1905.
Harry’s opponent in this game was an important figure in Scottish chess. The rather unimpressive 1. d4 d5 2. Qd3, which had been tried once by Pollock, seemed to have been his usual choice with White at this time.
Archibald Johnston Neilson might be considered Scotland’s answer to Antony Guest. He contributed an excellent column, usually twice a week, to his local paper, the Falkirk Herald, for 47 years, from 1895 right up to his death in 1942.
Perhaps he chatted with Harry after the game, asking him to contribute some problems. Since his early enthusiasm between 1879 and 1881 he had only composed occasionally, but now he entered the most prolific period of his chess problem career. For the next three years he regularly contributed problems, not just to the Falkirk Herald but also to the Mid-Lothian Journal.
His games from this period shine a light on both Harry’s strengths and weaknesses.
He could lose horribly when his opening went wrong, as in these two games. You’ll see in the first game that, although he was an Edinburgh player, he sometimes represented Glasgow in matches against English club. (Coincidentally, a Scotsman with the same name as his English opponent here wrote an excellent book on the King’s Gambit some years ago.)
Given the opportunity, Harry could demonstrate skill in the ending: another couple of games.
By way of contrast, here’s an exciting game featuring opposite side castling with both kings seemingly in danger.
Now for a few of his problems from this period of his life.
Problem 3. #2 Mid-Lothian Journal 21 Apr 1905
Problem 4. #3 Falkirk Herald (for Stirling solving contest) 15 May 1905
Problem 5. #2 Falkirk Herald 31 May 1906
To conclude, an easy one with a very familiar theme.
Problem 6. #3 Falkirk Herald 24 Apr 1907
The year 1911 brings us a surprise. Harry isn’t in the Scottish census, but turns up in the English census, in Salford, near Manchester, visiting John Harry Leyland and his family. He’s aged 47 and working on his own account as a dealer in glass bottles. Perhaps there’s some connection there with his brother William, who was also in the glass business. He also has a wife, Ellen, aged 43: they’ve been married 17 years with one child, who is still alive, but not on the census record. Later records will tell us that their child’s name was May.
It’s a reasonable guess that Ellen, also known as Nellie, was related to the Leyland family, and we can locate an 1867 birth record which matches. The family were from Lancashire, but spent the first few years of their marriage in Smethwick. There’s no marriage record for Harry Jackson and Ellen Leyland from round about 1893-94, but there is one from 1902 in Chorlton, not all that far from Salford, so I’d guess that was where and when they married. There’s also a birth record for May Leyland in York in 1895 (no mother’s maiden name given), which was about the time he moved from York to Edinburgh. It seems like Harry and Ellen had had an affair, and perhaps the birth of their daughter prompted them to move to Scotland. They only got round to getting married some years later. Although we know Harry was on the 1901 Irish Census, I haven’t yet been able to find Ellen/Nellie and/or May on any of the England and Wales, Scottish or Irish census for that year.
Harry seems to have been back in Scotland by June, when he was elected one of the vice-presidents of the Scottish Chess Association. He was in august company: one of his fellow VPs was future Prime Minister Andrew Bonar Law.
In February 1912 he returned to the Edinburgh team after an absence, facing Percy Wenman of Glasgow in the Richardson Cup final, the game being drawn on adjudication.
And that he seems to have taken a long break from chess, and it’s not for almost a decade that we pick him up again.
The 1921 Scottish census goes some way to confirming my suspicions.
Here we have Harry, 57, born in Dewsbury, Nellie, 54, born in Smethwick, and May, 26, born in York. Harry was still working as a glass dealer on his own account, while Nellie and May were engaged in household duties. Their address was 13 South Charlotte Street and their residence, right in the city centre, just off Princes Street very close to the castle, had six rooms. Harry’s glass dealing business must have been very successful: not bad for the son of a painter and decorator from Dewsbury.
After an absence of more than a decade Harry returned to the fray in 1923, continuing to play until late the following year, when, perhaps for health reasons, he retired from competitive chess.
Again there was an unexpected move: back to London. They may have been somewhere else first, but in 1927 Harry and Nellie showed up on the electoral roll in Hampton Wick, which is just over Kingston Bridge. Their address was 1 Garden Cottages, Park Road, which, I suspect is where Ingram House is now, just across the road from the Timothy Bennet memorial and a gate into Bushy Park.
This was one of a pair of cottages: number 2 was occupied by John and Unity Chatterton: the unusually named (after her mother) Unity was Nellie’s sister, and it seems the families must have moved there at the same time.
He didn’t stay there very long, though, dying of heart disease just a few months later.
The death record tells us he had been a Medical Bottle Merchant, perhaps acquiring them from his brother William’s company and selling them to hospitals, pharmacies and doctors. His daughter May had travelled down from Scotland where she was living in a remote village on the shore of Loch Tay with her husband, William Eric Graham Wilson.
His old friend Archibald Neilson wrote an obituary.
Falkirk Herald 12 October 1927
The British Chess Magazine noted his death in October, and published this obituary in November.
British Chess Magazine November 1927
You’ll note that they mistakenly called him Henry rather than Harry, the same error they would make a few years later by calling Fred Yates ‘Frederick’.
“A fine and striking personality, he was of a reserved, if not shy, disposition.” “Generous to a fault, and of a quiet and modest demeanour.” A fine way to be remembered by your friends. In the words of the cobbler Timothy Bennet, whose memorial stands opposite where Harry spent his last days, “I am unwilling to leave the world a worse place than I found it”. I’d like to think Harry Jackson would have approved.
Blackburne’s prophecy wasn’t quite fulfilled, but he was still one of the best players around, first in Yorkshire, and then in Scotland. If he hadn’t hampered himself by playing ‘certain bizarre moves in the opening’ he might have ranked higher still. He was also a skilled and, at times, prolific problem composer.
Nellie, John and Unity were still in Garden Cottages in 1928, and by 1929 John and Unity’s son, also John, had reached voting age. By 1930, though, both cottages were in different ownership.
One further thought: in 1928 a new shop opened not very far from there. Perhaps Nellie walked up the road for a few minutes, turned right into Bushy Park Road, crossed the railway line over the level crossing (there’s a footbridge there now) and, coming to the end of the road, visited the Ham and Beef Store owned by the Misses Ada and Louisa Padbury to stock up on provisions. Perhaps she saw a young girl there as well: Ada and Louisa were juggling running the shop with bringing up their irresponsible sister Florence’s illegitimate daughter Betty. (Nellie, the mother of an illegitimate daughter herself, would have been sympathetic.) Perhaps John Chatterton, who was a schoolmaster, taught at the local primary school she attended. Perhaps the family also worshipped at St John the Baptist, Hampton Wick, just a short walk from their homes in the other direction. This was the church where, two decades later, Betty would marry, and where her older son would be baptised. Many years further on, he would tell the story of the chess career of Harry Jackson, the Yorkshire Morphy.
Another coincidence: Unity returned to Lancashire, dying in Ormskirk in 1961. At round about that time, Betty and her family visited Ormskirk, where her favourite cousin Marion, the bridesmaid at her wedding, lived for many years.
It’s another golden thread that binds us all together.
If you’re interested in my file of Jackson family games and problems, let me know and I can send it to you. If you have any more information about this family, I’d love to see it and perhaps incorporate it in this article. And don’t forget to join me again soon for some more Minor Pieces.
Problem solutions
Problem 1.
Problem 2.
Problem 3.
Problem 4.
Problem 5.
Problem 6.
Sources and Acknowledgements
I thought this might be a quick article to research, but it turned out to be anything but. You have someone with a common name who moved around quite a lot (Yorkshire, London, Edinburgh) and disappeared from the records for a time. There are a lot of traps for the unwary and I hope I’ve avoided most of them.
Steve Mann’s Yorkshire Chess History is excellent on the Jackson family in Yorkshire, but doesn’t pick up Harry’s time in Scotland. Rod Edwards (EdoChess) picks up most of his English results, including some of his London matches, but attributes at least one to a totally different Jackson, and also doesn’t record his Scottish results. His Scottish problems are not to be found in the online collections I’ve consulted, which sometimes give him a non-existent middle initial: HS Jackson. Confusingly there was also an HB Jackson from, of all places, Fiji, submitting problems to the Illustrated London News in the late 19th century, some of which have been incorrectly attributed to Harry. This was the unrelated Henry Bower Jackson, whose aunt was married to a distant cousin of Edmund and Eliza Thorold. He in turn was seemingly not related to Sir Henry Moore Jackson, who became Governor-General of Fiji in 1902.
ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Scotland’s People
Yorkshire Chess History (Harry Jackson here)
Alan McGowan (Chess Scotland historian/archivist)
New in Chess (Edinburgh CC 200th Anniversary here)
EdoChess (Rod Edwards: Harry Jackson here)
BritBase (John Saunders)
ChessBase/Stockfish 17
Yet Another Chess Problem Database (Harry Jackson here)
MESON chess problem database (Harry Jackson here)
Google Books and Hathi Trust Digital Library (Chess Player’s Chronicle) British Chess Magazine November 1927
Geoff Steele website
My first Minor Piece, 3½ years ago, featured the Reverend Samuel Walter Earnshaw, the missing link between Paul Morphy and my great grandmother Jane Houghton.
I promised another article at some point demonstrating some more of his games. It’s more than time I wrote it, so here it is.
Let me take you back first of all to 9 July 1858, when Earnshaw, a young chess addict in his mid twenties in his first ministry, at St Mary’s Church Bromley St Leonards in East London, just south of the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, travelled into town to watch the young American star Paul Morphy in action against Samuel Standidge Boden. He recorded the moves, and, in 1874/5, submitted it for publication in the City of London Chess Magazine. You can read the first volume online here (it’s on page 280, with extensive annotations by Steinitz). The two Samuels became firm friends: I suggested in my previous article that Earnshaw might have been considered Boden’s Mate.
Here’s what Stockfish thinks of the game. Click on any move for a pop-up window.
Boden must have taught Earnshaw this variation, which would become his lifelong pet defence to the King’s Gambit.
The following year, he obtained a second curacy at St Thomas’s Church Birmingham, and, for some years, disappeared from the chess world.
His next job was in the small village of Nether Whitacre, 12 miles or so outside Birmingham, where he baptised several members of my great grandmother Jane Houghton’s family.
By 1865 he’d returned to chess, joining the Birmingham and Edgbaston Chess Club. Here he is, winning their club championship.
The Era 31 December 1865
He was also submitting many of his games, losses as well as wins, to the Birmingham Journal (editor unknown, appearing irregularly between 17 June 1865 and 26 December 1868, 57 articles in total, according to Tim Harding in British Chess Literature to 1914). One wonders if Earnshaw himself wrote the column, given that it published many of his games and stopped at the point when he left Birmingham.
Let’s look at a few of them.
You can judge from these games that Earnshaw enjoyed attacking chess, being particularly fond of the Evans Gambit.
He was also travelling down to London to play at the capital’s chess haunts, where he was winning games against opponents such as the German endgame expert Josef Kling.
In this game he was successful on the white side of the King’s Gambit.
At this time, matches between clubs were starting to take place. In 1866 he played for Birmingham in a match against Worcester. Although he lost both his games, his team scored a narrow victory.
Illustrated London News 14 April 1866
You’ll spot some interesting names in the Worcester squad. There’s Lord Lyttelton, Lord Lieutenant of Worcestershire and sometime President of the British Chess Association. Then we have the future Sir Walter Parratt, whom you might recall would, a few decades later, play in several Windsor – Twickenham matches.
At some point that year Earnshaw played, as you will have seen in the earlier article, a series of games against Steinitz. It’s uncertain whether these were played in London or in Birmingham. I showed you the games last time, but have now asked Stockfish for its opinion.
Another game between Earnshaw and Steinitz was published in 1879, without any indication of when (except ‘some time ago’) or where it was played. It might, I suppose, have been one of this series.
In the 1866-67 Birmingham Club Championship Earnshaw reached the semi-final, where he was paired against John Halford. After 8 games the scores were level, with three wins apiece and two draws, so lots were drawn, resulting in his opponent proceeding to the final.
Here’s one of his wins.
In April 1867 Earnshaw took part in another match, this time against a combined team from two other clubs.
The Era 21 April 1867
Lord Lyttelton was again representing the opposing team. I guess he was an honorary member of several clubs. Within a couple of decades exceedingly pleasant meetings between chess clubs would become much more frequent, strengthening the social bonds of friendship between Chess players. Long may they continue.
But then there seems to have been a break in Earnshaw’s chess career. In August 1867, as reported in my previous article, he was involved in a tragic incident, which must have affected him very much. Perhaps as a result, he left Nether Whitacre at the end of the year. His last baptism was in November, and by 22 December a new incumbent had taken over.
And look! There, on the other side, is Maria Howton (Houghton)’s illegitimate son, not, I should add, her first, fathered by a butcher in a neighbouring village, being baptised. Maria was a sister of my great grandmother Jane Houghton. Soon afterwards she’d finally marry, and Henry would take on his step-father’s surname, becoming Henry Tomes.
Earnshaw then took on a chaplaincy in Tremadog in North Wales, before being appointed headmaster of Archbishop Holgate School, Hemsworth, Yorkshire.
With a new job and five young children (born between 1861 and 1870) he must have been too busy to devote much time to chess, but by the mid 1870s he had joined both Sheffield and Leeds Chess Clubs. In 1874 he lost to Blackburne in a Sheffield simul, and in 1877 he was matched against a child prodigy in a friendly game.
Leeds Mercury 15 February 1877
Young Master Jackson didn’t exactly become a second Morphy, but his story is one perhaps for another time.
Here’s the game.
At the end of 1876, it appears that Earnshaw’s friend and fellow clergyman George Alcock MacDonnell took over the chess column of the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News. In 1877 Earnshaw returned to the ministry, becoming Rector of Ellough, a tiny village near Beccles in Suffolk, which nevertheless boasted a splendid church. His predecessor there, Richard Aldous Arnold, who had served his few parishioners for more than 60 years, came from the same family as Thomas Arnold of Rugby School and his poet son Matthew.
He now had more time for chess, travelling to London every seventh week to play at Simpson’s and Purssell’s, crossing swords, usually unsuccessfully, with the likes of Gunsberg, Blackburne, Mason and Bird, as well as winning miniatures against fellow amateurs. He would have been able to take the Great Eastern Railway from Beccles to their new Liverpool Street terminus, which had opened in 1874. He sent many of his games to Macdonnell, who was happy to publish them in his magazine column.
He was winning at one point in both these games, but ended up losing.
In the summer of 1878 Earnshaw played what would be his only public tournament, the Counties Chess Association meeting in London, but it didn’t go well for him. He only managed one draw from eight games (one may have been a loss by default) before withdrawing with four rounds still to play.
He threw away a good position again in this game.
The tournament proved controversial in more ways than one. The second class tournament included teenage prodigy Harry Jackson, whose father provoked some anger by interfering in one of his son’s games. Yes, we’ve all known parents like that. But that was a minor incident compared with the participation of the automaton Mephisto (operated by Gunsberg, although this wasn’t known at the time) in the Handicap Tournament confined to amateurs.
A few weeks later, Earnshaw tried a Fried Liver Attack against Mason when Black’s pawn was already on a6. Stockfish, unlike MacDonnell in his annotations, is happy with this, but again White lost the thread, ending up on the wrong end of a brilliancy.
Back in Suffolk, he was doing his bit to promote chess in Beccles.
Norfolk Chronicle 07 December 1878
By 1880 he was even described as a ‘chess celebrity’.
Norwich Mercury 14 January 1880
Here are a couple of wins against lower level opposition from this period.
His friend Samuel Boden’s death in January 1882 hit him hard: perhaps this is one reason why, by that time, his games were appearing less often in the press.
But in 1885 he turned up in an inter-club match. The St George’s team included Marmaduke Wyvill, runner-up in the first ever international tournament back in 1851, and formerly Rishi Sunak’s predecessor as MP for Richmond, Yorkshire.
Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News 24 January 1885
On the other side of the board, you’ll notice George Archer Hooke, who had another half century of competitive chess ahead of him, two boards above Earnshaw, with the splendidly named problemist Edward Nathan Frankenstein sitting between them.
But the next we hear from Samuel Walter Earnshaw, sadly, is from this death record, giving his name as Earnshaw-Wall (Wall was his mother’s maiden name, an affectation used by his son Walter Ethelbert Stacey Earnshaw-Wall .
The cause of death is given as Gout (21 days) and Pericarditis (3 days).
You’ll have read MacDonnell’s warm tribute to his friend in the previous article.
A true and enthusiastic lover of chess, we are told. Not a great player, but a good enough player, and really that’s all that matters. He was, for his day, well booked up, enjoying gambit play and demonstrating strong attacking skills, but all too often he would miscalculate or make careless mistakes and throw away his advantage. But he clearly enjoyed playing, whether against fellow amateurs or against the leading masters of his time. He, and many others like him, over the past 150 years or more, are what chess, in my opinion, is really all about. I’m delighted that my great grandmother and her family had made his acquaintance.
Join me again soon for more Minor Pieces.
Sources and Acknowledgements:
ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Wikipedia
ChessBase 17/Stockfish 17
chessgames.com (Earnshaw here)
Yorkshire Chess History (Steve Mann: Earnshaw here)|
EdoChess (Rod Edwards: Earnshaw here) British Chess Literature to 1914 (Tim Harding: McFarland 2018) Steinitz in London (Tim Harding: McFarland 2020)
Other sources referenced and linked to above
Ralph Jackson won the Sydney Junior Championship back in 1976 and is currently ranked 7th among players in Australia born before 1960.
He is also intrigued by family history, and his interest was piqued in 2015 when a cousin showed him transcripts of letters his great grandfather’s brother had been sent by an English nephew in 1874 and 1875 concerning his family’s financial struggles, and his mother’s illness and subsequent death.
He idly, as one does, entered the name of his English relation, of whom he had previously been unaware, into Google and was both startled and delighted to discover that Antony Guest had been a prominent chess player and journalist. You could even make the case that he was the Leonard Barden of his time, and that, almost a century after his death, his influence can still be felt today.
When Ralph noticed that I’d mentioned Guest in an earlier Minor Piece he contacted me to ask what more I could discover about him. As he was on my list of future Minor Pieces, in part because of his local connections to me, I was more than happy to oblige.
The birth of Antony Alfred Geoffrey Guest (he didn’t use his rather splendid middle names for chess purposes) was registered in the second quarter of 1856 in Staines, Middlesex. His father Augustus was a schoolmaster, classicist and artist, the son of Thomas Douglas Guest. His mother Phoebe, also known as Elizabeth or Mary, was the daughter of refugees, originally from Eastern Europe, but who had arrived via Denmark. Although she was born in the Jewish faith she later converted to Christianity.
Antony was baptised by cricketing clergyman Henry Vigne in St Mary’s Church Sunbury on June 18 that year. Entirely coincidentally, I visited that church recently and took a few photographs.
I don’t know the age of the font on the left: the inscription records when it was moved, not when it was installed, but I’d guess it wasn’t the one in which baby Antony was baptised.
By 1861 the family, now joined by Isabella Katherine Celia Guest (who would later be known as Katherine or Kate), had moved to Thayer Street in central London, conveniently situated just a few yards from the Chess & Bridge Shop in Baker Street.
But on 20 June 1864 Augustus was admitted to Grove Hall Lunatic Asylum, where he died on 19 March 1866. The family were now struggling to maintain their previously affluent lifestyle, and Antony had to leave school early. By 1871 he was working as a clerk, while his mother was now a lodging-house keeper. Isabella was, for some reason, visiting a carter’s family in Hampshire.
Meanwhile, Phoebe’s three brothers, Abraham (who changed his name to Alfred Lionel), Henry and Maurice had emigrated to Australia in the 1850s, seeking their fortune in the Gold Rush.
Henry, in particular, did very well for himself. After visiting the gold fields he took a job in public service, later rising to become Registrar-General of Victoria as well as attaining the rank of Major in the volunteer forces.
It was Uncle Alfred who was the recipient of Antony’s surviving (in transcript) letters.
The first letter Ralph has is from July 1874.
Circumstances have gone very hard with us of late, my mother has been very ill lately, and has been unwell for the last two years, and find it very very difficult to make ends meet-, especially since food and other necessities have become so dear, a little assistance therefore now and then would be a very great comfort to her.
In October he wrote again with the sad news that his mother had died of gastric (typhoid) fever the previous month.
My poor mother left her affairs in a very unsettled condition, her debts amounting to nearly 70 pounds, and my sister and myself would be greatly obliged to you or our uncle Henry for any assistance you could give us.
In December he informed Uncle Alfred that he had moved into a boarding house and his employer had lent him enough money to pay off his mother’s debts, but it appears that his family in Australia had been unable to help financially.
Ralph’s final letter, from April the following year, sees Antony telling his uncle that his prospects were now good, but thanking him for his offer of a home in Australia for his ‘delicate’ sister Isabella. If she took up the offer she wasn’t there long as she was back in England by 1881.
Here, then, was a formerly prosperous family that, due to illness and death, and perhaps also financial mismanagement, had hit hard times. Young Antony was doing his best to sort things out.
He also developed an interest in chess, watching one of the games in the 1876 match between Steinitz and Blackburne, and remembering, almost a quarter of a century later, how deeply absorbed he was.
We next pick him up in 1880, when he applied to become a member of the London Stock Exchange. The 1881 census found him on holiday at the Grand Hotel in Brighton, giving his occupation as Stock Jobber. A Stock Jobber was a private trader in stocks and shares, as opposed to a Stock Broker who worked for clients. The Grand Hotel, according to Wikipedia, “was intended for members of the upper classes visiting the town and remains one of Brighton’s most expensive hotels”. He’d clearly turned round his family fortunes, then.
By this time, Antony was spending much of his spare time frequenting Purssell’s and other places where the game was played socially.
He also acquired a new job, as a journalist for the Morning Post, a Conservative daily newspaper which would be taken over by the Daily Telegraph in 1937. In 1883 a major international tournament took place in London and Antony was dispatched to report on it. His reports must have proved very popular as the paper commissioned him to start a weekly column, beginning on 28 May 1883.
The column would typically include a problem (sometimes two) for solving, a list of successful solvers of the problem from two weeks earlier, a game, either contemporary or historical, news from home and abroad, answers to readers’ questions and, on occasion, book reviews, such as this one.
Morning Post 16 July 1883
Guest was always very enthusiastic about promoting chess for ladies, so would have been pleased to support Miss Beechey‘s venture.
Although he was not yet playing in public, he started publishing a few of his own games later in the year. Here he gave his opponent odds of pawn and move (he played black without his f-pawn). As always, click on any move in the game for a pop-up window.
By 1884 he had also started to compose problems, at first in collaboration with future BCF President John Thursby.
You’ll find the solution to all problems at the end of the article.
Problem 1. #3 A Guest & J Thursby Morning Post 26-05-1884
At the same time he played in public for the first time, in a handicap tournament at Simpson’s. Here he was accepting odds of pawn and move from the masters, who, in his section, were Blackburne and Gunsberg. He won his section with 7½/9, but was beaten by Mason, also giving him odds, in the play-off between the winners of the two sections.
Buoyed by this success he took part in his first master tournament, an event run by the British Chess Association in London. His performance, considering his lack of experience, was rather remarkable.
Gunsberg, as expected, ran out a comfortable winner with 14/15, but Guest shared second place with Bird on 12/15.
In his game against Wainwright (see earlier Minor Pieces) he gave up the exchange in the opening but later trapped his opponent’s queen.
He won very quickly against Hewitt, who wasn’t given the chance to recover from a hesitation in the opening.
This was a most auspicious debut for a relatively young (by the standards of the day) player. It was probably anticipated that he would have a big future in master chess, but, as it turned out, his first high level tournament would also be his best result.
Later that year Guest was involved in an interesting debate with John Ruskin.
Morning Post 14 September 1885
The debate as to whether chess should be on the school curriculum is still going on today, almost 140 years later. Unlike many of my colleagues in the world of junior chess, I’m very much in agreement with Guest here. Ralph Jackson shares our views.
Here’s another problem, this time a joint composition with Louis Desanges.
Problem 2. #3 A Guest & L Desanges Morning Post 16-11-1885
On the same day that this problem was published there was some important news.
Morning Post 16 November 1885
A few months later the new club ran a master tournament in which Guest took part, but this time he was much less successful, only scoring 2/7, well behind Blackburne (6½), Bird and Gunsberg (both 5), and not helped by defaulting his game against Pollock.
I’m not sure whether or not this game was played in the tournament. Guest attempted to play like Steinitz, but it didn’t end well.
He had better luck later in the year in the British Chess Association Amateur Championship, which was won by Gattie (15/18), Guest sharing second place with previous Minor Piece subjects Hooke and Wainwright on 13½/18.
Guest’s next tournament was towards the end of 1887: the British Chess Association Congress in London. He had originally entered a lower section, but, on the withdrawal of Skipworth, was, at the last minute, promoted to the master section, where he would face the likes of Blackburne, Burn, Gunsberg and the ailing Zukertort.
He got off to a flying start, winning his first three games, against Bird, Pollock and the perpetual backmarker Mortimer.
His game against Pollock wasn’t short of excitement. He defended the Evans Gambit and, after various adventures, his extra pawn on the queenside eventually turned into a queen.
In Round 3 Guest sacrificed two rooks to win Mortimer’s queen. He miscalculated some later tactics, but his opponent failed to take advantage.
After a loss to Lee in the fourth round, his fifth round opponent, Mason, failed to arrive because he had confused the start time. Guest was originally awarded a win by default, but it was later decided that the game should be replayed, Mason winning.
He then lost his last four games against some of the world’s strongest players.
Against Burn he played a totally unsound Greek Gift sacrifice in this position, overlooking Black’s diagonal defence.
The game continued 9. Bxh7+? Kxh7 10. Ng5+ Kg8 and now he must have realised that 11. Qh5 fails to Bf5, while the move he tried, Qd3+, failed to g6. Regular Minor Piece readers will recall Locock making the same mistake.
Here’s the tournament crosstable.
In August 1888 the British Chess Association Amateur Championship took place in Bradford. I’m not sure how ‘amateur’ was defined (Guest was a professional chess journalist, but not a professional player), but the 1888 event was a rather weak affair compared to other years, notable for the participation of Eliza Thorold in days when ladies very rarely competed against gentlemen. There was a master tournament taking place at the same time in which some of the stronger amateurs, such as Charles Dealtry Locock, participated. Guest won with a score of 10/12, just half a point ahead of 20-year-old Bradford born mathematician George Adolphus Schott, who, however, defeated him in their individual game.
In this game, winning his opponent’s IQP proved decisive.
The Field 01 September 1888
In August 1889 Antony Guest reported some important news. A lady had won the championship of the Bristol and Clifton Chess Club.
Morning Post 19 August 1889
“There is no reason why (ladies) should not excel at the game.” Guest’s views, propounded in a Conservative-leaning newspaper, were quite enlightened for his day. It was not until 1895, though, that another – very successful – Ladies’ Chess Club was started.
In November and December 1889 the British Chess Association Masters and Amateur tournaments took place consecutively rather than simultaneously in London, so George Wainwright was able to play in both events, while Guest only took part in the latter event. In those days games in amateur tournaments were played on a fairly casual basis with games often being postponed when one of the players was unavailable.
It seems that this event ground to a halt just before Christmas once Wainwright had guaranteed victory. Several of the other players, including Guest, had been too busy to play many of their games.
It’s not known whether any further games were played after this incomplete crosstable was published.
The Field 21 December 1889
As you’ll see, Guest was the only player to beat Wainwright, in an opening variation still topical today.
He made a tactical oversight in his game against Thomas Gibbons. His opponent, a disciple of Bird, opened with 1. f4 and sacrificed a pawn on the kingside for nebulous attacking chances.
In this position, 25… Ne7 would have kept him well in control, but he erred by playing 25… Be7? 26. Rdg1! Qxh4? 27. Rxg7+ Kh8 28. Qxf5!!, after which he had to resign.
From here on, Antony Guest was playing less frequently, perhaps by choice, or perhaps because he was too busy with other activities.
The 1891 census found Guest and his fellow chess journalist Leopold Hoffer living in lodgings in Fulham Road, right by Stamford Bridge stadium, which would, in 1905, become the home of the newly founded Chelsea FC.
Just look at the name of their next door neighbour.
Yes, there he is: Raymond Keene. Not, to the best of my knowledge, related to his grandmaster and author namesake, although this Raymond’s son and grandson were also named Raymond Keene.
In an 1891 club match Guest’s temporary queen sacrifice brought victory against a strong opponent who really should have spared himself the last 20 moves.
Later that year, Guest and Hoffer were both involved in a telephone chess match against Liverpool.
Daily News (London) 14 December 1891
Liverpool won the first game, while the second game resulted in a draw.
In August 1892 Guest returned to tournament chess, taking part in the Counties Chess Association tournament in Brighton.
It didn’t go well.
Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News 13 August 1892
George MacDonnell was particularly scathing about his performance.
Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News 13 August 1892
He should make due preparation and exert himself to the utmost. He didn’t pull his punches, did he?
Guest went horribly wrong on move 10 against the eventual winner.
But he did manage to win a nice minature against Lambert.
The following month he reached this position in a game at Simpson’s against OC Müller.
Here, Guest played 27. Qg6!, an offer which can’t be accepted, and threatening Qxh7+, an offer which can’t be refused. Black should now play 27… h6, when the game is likely to be drawn by perpetual check after 28. Rh3 and a later Rxh6+. Instead he erred with 27… Bg2?, and had to resign after 28. Rg4, as h6 would be met by Rxg2.
This scathing criticism of his play in Brighton didn’t stop him playing in club matches, such as this one against Twickenham.
The Field 21 January 1893
You can read more about the Humphreys family here and about Guest’s opponent here.
He was also playing for Metropolitan, here losing a brilliancy against one of the ‘fighting reverends’. He really should have known his chess history, though. Wayte reached a winning position from the opening by transposing into a very well known predecessor.
By now Antony Guest had resumed his problem composing career, now without collaborators.
Problem 3. #3 A Guest Morning Post 1893
(Source given in MESON: however I wasn’t able to find it in a quick look to identify the date of publication.)
Problem 4. #3 A Guest Illustrated London News 25-08-1894
In 1895 he took part in the cable match between the British and Manhattan Chess Clubs, where he faced John ‘Paddy’ Ryan, capable, according to the press, of producing ‘startling brilliancies’.
Here, Ryan punted the speculative 21… Bxh3!?. What do you think? We’ll never find out what would have happened as at that point time was called and the game declared drawn.
The Ladies’ Chess Club had been founded in January 1895, and Guest used his Morning Post column to promote their activities. He was invited to give a simul at their prizegiving ceremony.
Morning Post 29 July 1895
Approaching his 40th birthday, it might have seemed like Antony Guest was a confirmed bachelor, but in 1896 he married Violet Harrington Wyman, some eleven years his junior. Violet’s brother Harrington Edward Hodson Wyman, was a knight odds player at the British Chess Club, later becoming vice-president of Ealing Chess Club. Her family firm were the publishers of Mortimer’s The Chess-Player’s Pocket Book.
In January 1897 Guest returned to tournament chess, playing in a ten-player selection tournament for that year’s Anglo-American cable match. Again he failed to complete the event, withdrawing after only three games, two losses and a win against Herbert Jacobs. Whether or not this was due solely to pressure of work is unclear.
This would be his last tournament, although he continued playing club chess. His performances, as you can see here (taken from EdoChess), show a steady downward trajectory after a promising start.
The year 1897 was significant for the publication of FR Gittins’ volume The Chess Bouquet.
As one of the Chief Chess Editors of the United Kingdom, Guest certainly qualified for inclusion.
We’re offered a photograph, a biography, a game (against Pollock, see above) and two problems. Here’s how Gittins describes him.
Physically, Mr. Guest is a perfect giant, his towering form and splendid proportions being well in evidence at the recent Hastings Festival. Socially, he is one of the best, full of bonhomie and good humour.
This is a charming mate in 2, which, unfortunately, had been anticipated by Conrad Bayer, who had published a mirror image back in 1865. It’s been reprinted on a number of occasions over the years.
Problem 5. #2 A Guest The Chess Bouquet 1897
The second problem, number 3 above, was unfortunately given with a missing pawn on c7, allowing an unwanted second solution.
He wasn’t the only Guest in The Chess Bouquet. There were also entries for Black Country problemists Thomas Guest and his son Francis Hubert Guest, who were not, as far as I can tell, related to Antony.
Here’s an exciting game played at Simpson’s against a French opponent.
Although now retired from tournament play, Guest was still making occasional appearances in consultation games, and club and county matches, both over the board and by correspondence. He was also publishing the occasional problem, such as this one, from 1900.
Problem 6. #3 A Guest Morning Post 12-03-1900
Later that year, Guest wrote a very interesting article entitled Steinitz and Other Chess-Players, first published in The Contemporary Review, and later republished in the USA in The Living Age.
The last three paragraphs, which take a broader social view of the game, are those which interest me most.
Here he is, celebrating the increasing popularity of chess among the working classes.
The present extraordinary growth of the popularity of the game must surely have some significance. Many of the players are young men engaged in offices, shops and factories; that their numbers include several clergymen, doctors, lawyers and members of other professions is not so remarkable. What strikes me as important is that so many young clerks, and others of similar occupation, should find their chief recreation, at least in the winter months, in the game of chess.
And here again on the artistic side of chess.
But I believe that in most of us there is some kind of artistic instinct, some aesthetic tendency, that finds no outlet in the humdrum of everyday life. If this is true it would sufficiently account for the increasing popularity of chess, for it is an art as well as a game. Its intricacies and combinations are capable of affording aesthetic delight that may be compared with the emotions produced by poetry, pictures or music — different, no doubt, but, to many, similarly sufficing. One need not be an expert to enjoy the pleasure of play; to the beginner it is like a voyage through an unknown country teeming with beautiful surprises. Every sitting reveals some new and captivating feature, suggests some tempting path, or affords some hint as to the best mode of pursuing the journey.
They don’t write them like that any more, do they?
You can read the whole article, along with the chapter about Guest in The Chess Bouquet, in this excellent article by Batgirl (Sarah Beth Cohen).
In 1901 it was time for another census. Strangely, Mr & Mrs Guest were not together. Antony was lodging in Bayswater, while Violet and her parents were lodging in Hastings, perhaps on holiday together.
He returned to the social aspect of chess in a 1901 article explaining how chess can build friendships between people of different nationalities.
Bromley and West Kent Telegraph 12 October 1901
For a few years now, Guest seemed, apart from his column, to stop both playing and composing, only resuming in 1907.
In this game against G Freeman from a Surrey v Essex county match he built up a strong attack from the King’s Gambit Declined.
Black had just blundered and now the rather neat 23. Rf5! forced resignation.
Problem 7. #3 A Guest Morning Post 12-08-1907
His game annotations were also being syndicated across various newspapers.
In July 1909 Antony Guest was honoured to be the subject of a feature in the British Chess Magazine, who published a photograph along with a biographical sketch contributed by Frank Preston Wildman.
Problem 8. #3 A Guest British Chess Magazine 07-1907
At some point during this decade, Antony and Violet moved out to 1 Anglesea Road, Kingston, alongside the Thames half way between Kingston and Surbiton. This was a sizeable property, with 12 rooms excluding bathrooms. (I’m not sure whether or not it was the white building you can see behind the trees, which is now Anglesea Lodge, 28 Portsmouth Road.)
This is the view from the Barge Walk on the other side of the river.
The 1911 census found them there, along with two servants, William and Marie Wilkins, a married couple of about their age, and the Wilkins’ teenage daughter Elsie.
Guest decided to join Surbiton Chess Club, playing in this match against Wimbledon.
Wimbledon News 23 December 1911
He was now becoming less active in the chess world, but in 1914 had the opportunity to express his views again on chess for schoolboys.
Cork Weekly News 25 July 1914
“In opening the way to friendships the practice of chess is very valuable to young men.”
I totally agree, although these days we might want to refer to young people instead. It worked for me, anyway.
Guest’s column continued through the war, although there was little chess action to report.
Here, he took the lack of competitive chess during the hostilities to promote the value of social chess in promoting friendship.
Cheltenham Chronicle 15 January 1916
His wife Violet sadly died in February 1921. That June the 1921 census found him still the head of the household at 1 Anglesea Road, and still working as a journalist. There was a resident housekeeper, but most of the property was taken up by motor builder John Bambury, who ran his own business in Kingston, along with his wife and five children aged between 17 and 22.
Guest was still seen regularly at major events such as Hastings and the British Championship, but by the 1924-25 Hastings Congress he was clearly in poor health and died after an operation on 29 January.
Linlithgowshire Gazette 13 February 1925
He didn’t leave that much money, compared to Hamilton Brooke Guernsey, one of whose administrators, Leslie Dewing, – one for coincidence lovers here – would have seen him at Hastings four weeks earlier, where he lost all his games in the Premier Section 1. (Coincidentally again, or perhaps not, there’s currently a marketing agency in Guernsey called Hamilton Brooke.)
The Morning Post was far from being Guest’s only chess outlet. At various times, according to Tim Harding in British Chess Literature to 1914, he also wrote columns for the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News, the Daily News, Cassell’s Saturday Journal, Life and Tinsley’s Magazine.
Nor was chess the only subject on which he wrote. In 1891 Guest and barrister Sylvain Mayer co-authored Captured in Court, a novel with a legal setting. Some of the reviews were pretty harsh. “It is very unlikely to add to the reputation of either as story writers”, according to the Glasgow Herald. “… the bundle of incidents which does duty for a plot is as amateurish as the style”, proclaimed the National Observer. According to the Weekly Dispatch, “The plot is preposterous and the dialogue inane”. Preposterous plots and inane dialogues were perhaps more suitable for children’s literature, and, from 1895 onwards, he contributed to collections of short stories alongside such authors as E(dith) Nesbit, still much loved and remembered today for books such as The Railway Children.
In 1896 Antony Guest contributed an article on Some Old English Games to The Badminton Magazine of Sports and Pastimes, describing games such as Pall Mall and Shuffleboard, illustrated by Albert Ludovici., followed by More Notes on Old English Games a year later, this time including Bandy-Ball and Nine Men’s Morris.
In the early 20th century he developed (pun not intended) an interest in photography, and in 1907 his book Art and the Camera was published by G Bell and Sons, who of course also published chess books.
Morning Post 10 August 1907
This time the critics were unanimous in their praise. Modern reprints are readily available should you wish to read it.
In 1910 he turned his attention from cameras to cancer.
London Evening Standard 15 March 1910
It’s still a hot topic today, and the evidence is still inconclusive.
A man of many interests, as well as chess, then. Polymaths were probably more common then than now.
There are a couple of family issues to clear up.
Antony and Violet had no children. His sister (Isabella) Katherine married a wealthy man named Robert Edward McLeod in 1883. Robert’s brother Bentley was a chess player, representing Surrey, Brixton and Metropolitan, through the last of which he would have known Antony. Robert died in 1893, leaving his wife with two young children. Neither of them had children, so that was the end of Augustus Guest’s family. Katherine died, like her father, in a mental hospital, in Brighton in 1941.
To find Antony’s closest relations, then, we have to travel to Australia. Henry, whom you met at the start of this article, returned to England with some of his many children after his retirement. The family was hit by tragedy when his daughter Helen died in 1907. Helen and her older sister Ethel were very close, and, 18 months later, Ethel, suffering from depression as a result of the loss of her beloved sister, took her own life. There were mental health problems, then, on both sides of the Guest family.
Henry’s son Stanley later returned to Australia, married and had six children, the youngest of whom, Marisa, born in 1929, is still alive. Marisa, the closest surviving relation of Antony Guest, is the mother of Ralph Jackson.
One of the wonderful things about chess is that, even if playing competitive chess doesn’t appeal to you, there are many other ways of living your life through your favourite game. For Guest’s contemporary and acquaintance Charles Dealtry Locock it was through problems, writing and, in the last period of his life, teaching. For Antony Guest himself, it was as a journalist and occasional problemist. His record of almost 42 years might pale in comparison with Leonard Barden’s records, but it’s still very impressive. You can see a lot in common: both strong players who, finding competition a little bit too stressful, concentrated on their, in both cases, excellent newspaper columns, and perhaps did far more good in promoting chess in that way than they would have done by just playing.
He was in many ways a man ahead of his time as well. Although he wrote for a conservative newspaper, he was always very keen to promote chess for ladies, for the lower middle and working classes, and for schoolboys (it would be left to Locock to include schoolgirls). He also promoted chess for recreational and social reasons, to establish friendships on a local, national and international basis. I couldn’t agree more. Ralph Jackson is very lucky to be able to count Antony Guest as a close relation.
Problem Solutions:
Problem 1:
Problem 2:
Problem 3:
Problem 4:
Problem 5.
Problem 6.
Problem 7.
Problem 8.
Acknowledgements and sources.
Ralph Jackson – private correspondence
Batgirl (Sarah Beth Cohen) articles on Guest and Donisthorpe at chess.com
Krone Family website here
ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
ChessBase/MegaBase2023/Stockfish16.1
chessgames.com (Antony Guest here)
EdoChess (Antony Guest here) British Chess Literature to 1914 (Tim Harding) The Chess Bouquet (FR Gittins) British Chess Magazine July 1909 (thanks to John Upham)
Wikipedia
Yet Another Chess Problem Database
MESON Chess Problem Database
Jack Redon was one of the elder statesmen at Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club for the first 20 years or so of my membership. On completing my studies in 1972 I joined the committee and got to know him well.
Jack was a pretty strong player who was known for his artistic interests. He was a commercial artist by profession, designing things like LP sleeves, but had a particular interest in amateur dramatics and seemed to be involved with every artistic society in the area.
He seemed to live a life of some affluence, sharing a large Victorian house near Richmond Bridge with his wife and sister. Richmond Junior Chess Club would later spend many years in another large house on the same estate, which had been converted into a community centre.
(I also visited the house regularly years later, to teach a chess pupil whose name, coincidentally, was also Jack.)
If you have an interest in 19th century domestic architecture it’s well worth a stroll round these roads. You can also read more about the Twickenham Park estate here and here.
The distinguished poet John Greening also knew Jack very well at about this time, describing him well in a memoir.
He was indeed an extraordinary man, full of wise saws and anecdotes. He did tend to repeat them time and time again at every committee meeting, but, given his age and seniority within the club, we forgave him his eccentricities. He generously made his residence available for these meetings in the mid 1970s, and, when one of our younger members suggested we might meet in a pub instead, he didn’t take kindly to the idea.
While John Greening recalls the unperformed playscripts, I recall the skirting boards being lined with paintings, which, like his plays, were created for his own pleasure rather than for profit. My recollection is that they may well have been in the style of Odilon Redon: and he also told us that he was Odilon’s great nephew. But was it true?
Almost certainly not. Odilon (Wiki) came from a wealthy slave-trading family and, although born in Bordeaux, was conceived in New Orleans, like Paul Morphy the son of a Creole mother. Jack’s family background was very different. It has little to do with chess, so if you want to see some moves you’ll have to jump ahead, but if you’re interested in social history you’ll want to read on. Or even Redon!
Redon is a rather unusual French surname specifically associated with the South West of the country. But let me take you back more than 300 years, to 1722. We have a record of a clandestine marriage for one Peter Redon, a weaver living in Stepney. If you see a weaver with a French surname in that part of London at that time you’ll probably assume that he was a Huguenot. Maybe, but Jack’s ancestors later embraced the Jewish religion, calling their children Elias, Abraham and Reuben, Leah, Esther, Rachel and Rebecca.
By 1798 the Redons had crossed the river to Southwark, where Elias (a labourer) and his wife Rachel were accused of running a brothel. In 1839 Abraham Redon, perhaps a son of Elias and Rachel, was on the other side of the law, a victim of a crime. He was working as a toll collector at the Cambridge Heath tollgate in Hackney and, while he was sleeping, two of his assistants, Henry Walker and John Hollingshead, stole his takings. Both were found guilty at the Old Bailey and sent to prison.
In the 1841 census we have John and Leah Redon, along with their children Alfred (20) and Esther (15), living in Woolwich, with John working as a toll collector. Alfred’s occupation is not legible, but certainly not ‘toll collector’. Woolwich is not all that near Hackney. Alfred was actually Abraham Alfred, so was John actually Abraham John, or were Abraham and John brothers sharing an occupation?
Esther, who had an illegitimate daughter, spent much of her later years in and out of the workhouse, their records describing her as a Jewess. Abraham Alfred, showing the first sign of artistic talent in the family, worked as a painter and signwriter. He married Rose Sawyer in about 1854 (or perhaps he didn’t: I haven’t been able to find a marriage record), but, tragically, none of their first six children lived to see their seventh birthday. Their two youngest sons did survive, though: John Edward, born in 1867 (baptised in the Church of England) and Reuben Alfred, born in 1869. Rose died in 1887, and by the time of the 1891 census Abraham Alfred, unable to look after himself in old age, was in the workhouse, where he died the following year.
So far, the Redon family history is one of poverty and tragedy, very different from the affluent environment in which their namesake Odilon grew up. But Jack gave the impression of being fairly affluent himself. What happened to change the family’s fortunes?
Reuben Edward Redon, continuing the family’s artistic tradition, making a living first as a glass embosser (in 1901 he was living in the road running alongside my old school, Latymer Upper), and later as a designer of showcards, running a business in Harrow for several years.
Harrow Observer 22 September 1911
He was married, but had no children, and died, by that time living near his brother in Peckham, in 1927.
We need to follow John Edward Redon and see what happened in his life. In 1871 he was in Manor Place, Walworth (just south of Elephant and Castle) with his parents, brother and aunt. In 1881 the family were still at the same address: John had left school and was working as an office boy. In 1891, his mother having died and his father in the workhouse, the two brothers were living in a boarding house near the Old Kent Road, the cheapest place on the Monopoly board. John was now, following in his father’s footsteps, working as a signwriter.
By the 1901 census John was working as a clerk for London County Council, and boarding just south of Waterloo Station, right by Westminster Bridge. Also there was a dressmaker named Bessie Emma Varney, and, in October that year they married. Bessie’s family seems to have been London working class, and, her mother having died when she was only 5 years old, she and her younger sister were brought up by relatives. John and Bessie had three children, René Bessie (1902), John Edward, named after his father, who would always be known as Jack (1905) and Reuben Ernest (1908-1912).
At some point, I’d guess from circumstantial evidence, round about 1903, John left his job with the council and formed a partnership with Danzig born Charles Ernest Rokicki. They started two companies, a moneylending business based at John’s home address in Lambeth, and a shop in the Old Kent Road.
In 1907, John, like his grandfather before him, fell victim to a robbery when a habitual criminal named Reuben Vaughan (there are a lot of Reubens in this story) paid for a gramophone and 46 records using a forged cheque, receiving a sentence of six years penal servitude.
Their partnership was dissolved in 1910, with John apparently buying his partner out.
London Gazette 5 July 1910
The family business of Musical Instrument and Cycle Factors and General Furnishers must have been successful. In 1911 they were living above their Old Kent Road shop. John, perhaps no longer involved in the moneylending business, was described as a Dealer in Musical Instruments (Gramophones), while Bessie was assisting in the business. They were able to afford to employ a Domestic Servant (Mother’s Help) to give Bessie a hand in looking after the children. Young Reuben, sadly, would die the following year.
Within the space of two decades the family had gone from workhouse poverty to employing a servant. At some point between 1911 and 1921 they moved their shop to 185 Queen’s Road, Peckham.
During the First World War John was called upon to serve his country as a clerk in the Admiralty: he was still there in 1921. Bessie, who seems to have been a remarkably strong and ambitious woman, was running the business on her own, describing herself in the 1921 census as a Music Seller. René had no occupation recorded, although I’d guess she was helping out in the shop, while 16-year-old Jack was a part-time art student.
As well as studying art, Jack was becoming interested in the Art of Chess, joining Battersea Chess Club.
Richmond Herald 29 September 1923
Here he is, in 1923, becoming the second ever winner of the Wernick Cup, which is still, more than a century on, the fourth division of the Surrey individual championship. In 1962 the name of another promising young player, RD Keene would be engraved on the trophy. It’s easy to forget that, in these days of preteen grandmasters, a century ago it was relatively unusual for teenagers to take part in competitive chess against adults.
His would be a solid rather than a meteoric chess career, though, developing into a strong club player who, by 1926, was good enough to be selected for an important county match.
Birmingham Daily Post 11 October 1926
He lost his game, but Surrey’s greater strength on the higher boards saw them through. Crossword addicts will notice an anagram on the other side.
While he continued playing chess, Jack soon took up a new interest, in amateur dramatics, setting up a group in his local church. (By now the family were very much Church of England.)
South London Observer 02 November 1929
You’ll note the name Florence Warden, also known, from what I recall, as Flossie, who was living with her grandmother and step grandfather, having lost her mother in childbirth when she was only one year old.
John died in early 1931, and it’s quite possible that Jack now had to take a greater role in running the family business. He still had time to play chess, though, and by 1935 had reached top board for Battersea.
South Western Star 29 November 1935
He had also reached the top section of the county championship, but in this game from 1937 he was out of his depth against a strong opponent. (For this and all games in this article, click on any move for a pop-up window.)
In this county match game from the same period against an electrician from Brighton, he played an opening gambit and probably didn’t have enough for the pawn, but when he threatened a queen sacrifice his opponent carelessly overlooked it.
and probably didn’t have enough for the pawn, but when he threatened a queen sacrifice his opponent carelessly overlooked it.
The amateur dramatics must have been going well too, as in 1938 he married his fellow thespian Florence Warden.
You’ll immediately note Jack’s artistic signature, appropriately for a member of a family involved in signwriting. There are two other things to note as well. The marriage took place not locally but in the City of London, at St Michael Paternoster Royal, a church associated with Dick Whittington, which had been rebuilt by Sir Christopher Wren after the Great Fire. He gave an address nearby, which, I suspect, was a dummy address enabling him to marry there. You’ll also see that his late father’s occupation was given as Accountant, which doesn’t tie in with other records. Perhaps he did the accounts for the family shop, or maybe it was a euphemism for Moneylender.
His marriage certainly didn’t stop his chess career: at this point he was very active in both club and county chess, winning a prize for one of the best performances in the Battersea first team. If you look at some of the other names here you’ll observe that it was a very strong club at the time.
Streatham News 08 September 1939
Although marriage didn’t stop Jack playing chess, the war did. Just three days before this report appeared, and with war just having broken out, a national registration of the civilian population was taken.
Bessie, now in her late 60s, was still running her shop in Peckham, selling gramophone records, musical instruments and cycles. Jack and Florence were living there as well, as was Florence’s elderly grandmother Matilda, an old age pensioner. Florence had a temporary job operating an Elliott-Fisher bookkeeping machine. Jack was described as a designer of sight tests on glass, etching and stencil cutting.
Most of London’s chess clubs, including Battersea, closed for the duration, so there was little opportunity now for Jack to play chess. Matilda died in 1942, and Bessie in 1943. I presume Jack and René would have inherited the business, selling it and moving, along with Florence, to their new home in Twickenham. They must have done pretty well for themselves: not only were they able to afford a large house in a desirable area, but it seems that they no longer needed to work for a living. Not quite Old Kent Road to Mayfair, but still pretty impressive.
Jack threw himself enthusiastically into his theatre and chess hobbies, which would dominate the rest of his life. In 1944 he was a member of the Twickenham Community Players, writing and producing plays for them, just as he had done back in Peckham. They even met for rehearsals at his house (was he the founder, I wonder), but sought larger premises at the new Georgian Club in Richmond.
Jack joined Kingston and Thames Valley Chess Club, which, like Barnes Village, continued meeting during the war. He also rejoined Battersea, who resumed their activities in 1945, where he would win their club championship in 1960. There was now no active chess club in Richmond or Twickenham, though, and this was something he wanted to change. He started a chess section at the Georgian Club, which had modest beginnings.
Richmond Herald 02 June 1945
Retired schoolmaster Phillip Flower, who lived round the corner from Jack, had been strong enough to play in the Major Open at the 1911 British Championships, as well as the First Class in 1921 and 1922, where his victims included future stars Fairhurst and Buerger. Jacob Zafransky ran (or at least he did in 1939) a radio and cycle shop again just round the corner from Jack: there might have been a work connection as his business was very similar to that of Jack’s family.
By the following year they were able to raise a dozen players for a match against an established club.
Richmond Herald 08 December 1945
Jack had managed to recruit two very strong players for the top boards: eccentric philosopher, schoolteacher and much else Dr JD (John David) Solomon, and civil servant Geoffrey Ashcroft, who, although he lived in East Sheen, was a friend and colleague from Battersea Chess Club. It’s pleasing to see that Reginald Tarrant (and it was lovely to hear from his son-in-law recently) provided a link with the ‘Old Richmond and Kew Club’.
The following March, Jack gave a simultaneous display, which proved very successful.
Richmond Herald 30 March 1946
The prizewinning Miss Nesbitt must have been Violet Ella Nesbitt Kemp, an architect’s daughter, who would, some three decades later, rejoin what was by that point Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club. Remarkably, being born in 1888 and dying in 1992, she lived to the age of 103 . I was led to believe she was an actress, but perhaps only on an amateur basis, which might have been where she met Jack.
In 1947 a match was played against Twickenham Chess Club, which had recently reformed, the previous club of that name having folded some years previously. Richmond seem to have dropped ‘Georgian’ from their name, now established as Richmond Chess Club.
Richmond Herald 01 February 1947
Captain Samuel Ould (a civil servant in 1939, although he always used his military rank from the First World War) provided another link with the previous Richmond and Kew Chess Club, while Ted Fairbrother would remain a member into the 1970s.
A few months later Kingston and Thames Valley Chess Club staged a megamatch against a combined Richmond and Twickenham team (just as they did again in 2022). The Teddington club would have been the NPL, the Sunbury club British Thermostat and the Whitton club perhaps Old Latymerians.
Richmond Herald 14 June 1947
You’ll see that Jack, as their club champion, represented Kingston on this occasion. By beating Blake, who had, many decades earlier, beaten Rev John Owen, who had beaten Morphy, this gave him a Morphy Win number of 3.
Being a member of three chess clubs wasn’t enough for Jack Redon. He also played for Twickenham in the London and Middlesex Leagues. (I haven’t found any online information about the founding of the post-war Twickenham Chess Club, but I suppose he might have been involved.)
Here he is, playing in a match against Uxbridge in 1950.
Uxbridge & W. Drayton Gazette 08 December 1950
His opponent here, Harry Bogdanor, was a rather dodgy pharmacist (see discussion here) and the father of political scientist (and David Cameron’s tutor) Vernon Bogdanor. FG (Griff) Griffiths was still involved with Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club into the early 1970s. I also have an interest in SA Lester, who, I hope, was precision tool maker and amateur musician Sydney Arthur Lester. At any rate he was the only SA Lester I’ve been able to find in the Twickenham area at the time. Perhaps I’ll tell you more in a future article.
Richmond and Twickenham Chess Clubs were clearly working closely together, in 1952 sending a combined team down for a friendly match at Hastings. Jack scored a fortuitous win on top board against an English international.
Hastings and St Leonards Observer 06 September 1952
You’ll notice endgame study expert John Roycroft on Board 2. I ‘m sure AL Fletcher was L Elliott Fletcher, author of Gambits Accepted, and Miss Fletcher his daughter Lesley, who would later marry Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club’s Robert Pinner. I lose to George Anslow in the corresponding fixture in 1974.
In 1954 the team visiting Hastings, although billed just as Twickenham, was quite a lot stronger, seeming to have recruited some players from other Middlesex clubs rather than Richmond for the match.
Hastings and St Leonards Observer 11 September 1954
I don’t know much about Edgar Brown, whose club was sometimes billed as Wembley & Hampstead. He won the RAF Championship and 1944 and shared 1st place in the 1950-51 British Correspondence Championship. Another Twickenham player in this match was was chess administrator and bigamist Alan Stammwitz (see this thread).
Playing on second board in the 1956 Hastings v Twickenham match he defeated a highly respected opponent with an original sacrifice in the Max Lange Attack. Although it wasn’t quite sound, his opponent, a bank official who, like all the best chess players at the time, had retired to Hastings, was unable to cope, rapidly going down in flames.
Throughout this time, Jack remained very active in amateur dramatics. He never had the looks of a leading man, but excelled in comic and character roles. In 1946 his portrayal of Sir Andrew Aguecheek in Twelfth Night was ‘handled with a delightful touch and never over-played’, while in 1949 he was ‘well cast as the cowardly Oswald’ in King Lear. I’m not sure whether that was a compliment or an insult.
Although he was an enthusiastic participant in club and county chess, tournaments were, with one exception, not for him. In 1957 he successfully entered the qualifying tournament for the British Championship, held that year in Plymouth.
In 1956 he’d appeared in the BCF Grading List at 5a, about 2050 Elo, and remained round about that level for several years – a pretty strong amateur who could – and did – hold down a high board in club matches and a low board in county matches.
Here, he found the going tough, finishing on just 3 points out of 11.
He was well beaten in this game, where his opponent exploited his space advantage with a central breakthrough.
He demonstrated his tactical skills in this game, winning with a powerful kingside attack.
You can see him here, the bald-headed gentleman standing in the centre, with Milner-Barry and Franklin seated in front of him
1958 saw a merger between Richmond and Twickenham Chess Clubs. The result, Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club, is still thriving today. I’m not sure what part Jack played in the merger, but he must surely have been involved and given his blessing.
I’m not sure whether or not he was playing for Richmond & Twickenham in this game, a clash between the 1923 and 1962 winners of the Wernick Cup.
A few years later, Ray would treat the opening in more restrained fashion. Here, he gave Jack some difficult chances, but he was unable to take advantage.
It was only a few years later that Keene would publish his first book, Flank Openings, which I bought and eagerly devoured. It influenced my choice of opening when I faced Jack in the 1969 Richmond & Twickenham Club Championship. I called this system, a cross between a Réti and an Orangutan, the Yeti Opening.
It worked well here (I think the opening was never Jack’s strong point) and soon won a piece, but didn’t want to win hard enough against such an illustrious opponent and let him escape with a perpetual check. (If I’d won, as I should have done, it would have given me a Morphy Win number of 4, although I may well have beaten him in a casual game at some point.)
You might assume that chess players with artistic interests would play artistic chess, while those with scientific interests would prefer scientific chess. It doesn’t always work, but it was certainly true of Jack Redon. From the small sample of games here we can see someone who, at least with the white pieces, favoured dashing gambits and sacrifices, which, while not always sound, often worked over the board.
By now well into his sixties, there was inevitably some decline in his playing strength, but he continued to take part in club matches as well as serving on the club committee. In 1981 he designed a new logo for what was then the British Chess Federation.
His beloved wife Florence died in 1985, but he remained on the grading list until 1988, his clubs listed as Richmond Community Centre as well as Richmond & Twickenham. Suffering from dementia, he eventually moved to a care home in nearby Hampton Hill, where he died in 1994 at the age of 89. It appears, although there are some inconsistencies in the records, that his sister René died in Hastings in 1996, bringing an end to that branch of the Redon family.
Jack may not have been, as he believed, or wanted us to believe, the great nephew of Odilon, but I think he was something far more interesting. A man who was fortunate enough to be able spend the last fifty years of his life indulging in his favourite hobbies. He was a very good, but perhaps not brilliant, actor, playwright and artist, but he wrote plays and painted pictures not with the intention of making money but for the sheer joy of doing so. He played chess for many decades for the same reason: not a great player, but certainly a good enough player: champion of Kingston and Battersea, British Championship contender, achievements not to be taken lightly. Perhaps many of us can learn from the way Jack lived his life.
But more than that, he contributed an enormous amount to the local community in Richmond and Twickenham by founding and organising clubs and societies so that others had the opportunity to share his passions, and, through them, form friendships and enhance their lives. I believe that hobby clubs, whether chess, theatre or a thousand and one other wonderful things, are of vital importance for social cohesion, mental health and many other reasons. All of us at Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club have reason to be grateful to Jack Redon, who might justifiably be seen as the club’s founder. I hope he’s looking on benignly, delighted that, many years later, the club is still thriving.
Sources and Acknowledgements:
ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Archives
chessgames.com
BritBase
ChessBase/MegaBase
Surrey County Chess Association website
Battersea and Kingston Chess Club websites
Brian Denman
John Saunders
Last time I told you about Charles Dealtry Locock’s pioneering work in promoting chess for girls in the 1930s, and, in particular about his private pupil Elaine Saunders, the first genuine girl chess playing prodigy.
She wasn’t the first girl chess prodigy, though. Back in 1891 9-year-old Lilian Baird was making headlines round the world with her skilfully constructed chess problems. You can read about her in this book, and find out more about her chess problemist mother here.
Even in 1891, Lilian wasn’t the only chess kid in town. An even younger composer, seven-year-old James Kistruck from the Essex seaside town of Clacton on Sea, was being celebrated as far away as New Zealand…
The New Zealand Mail 10 April 1891
… and Louisville, Kentucky (although he’d apparently moved from Clacton to London).
The Louisville Courier-Journal 19 July 1891
Here, below, is the first problem: very crude and obvious but just the sort of thing a bright 7-year-old might come up with.
The second problem (the Hackney Mercury for 1891 isn’t available online so I don’t have the exact date) is rather more sophisticated. The key move creates no threat, but prepares three different mates depending on which piece Black moves. I’m sure you can work out the solution for yourself, though.
After the publication of these problems in 1891 nothing more was heard from young master Kistruck. Where did he come from and what happened to him next? I really wanted to find out.
Kistruck (some branches of the family used the variant Kistrick) is a very unusual surname, ideal for a one-name study.
The earliest mention online is of the birth of one Hosea Kistrick in the village of Kirtling, Cambridgeshire (south east of the horse racing town of Newmarket) in 1611. By the late 18th century, and now usually known as Kistruck, they’d migrated east to the villages to the west of Ipswich, Suffolk: Aldham, Elmsett and Offton. Like most of the population outside the big cities at the time, they worked in agriculture. While some of them were humble labourers, one branch had done well for themselves, rising to become farmers. These are the people we need to look at.
Rather confusingly, this family had a lot of sons, all with names beginning with J, and always starting in some order (usually with the father’s name coming first) with James, John and Joseph. The family’s favourite sport was cricket, which must have been confusing for the scorers with so many J Kistrucks in the village team, but some of them also had an interest in chess.
Let me take you back to Thursday 12 February 1862. It was a quiet day at Tollemache Hall, but the peace of the countryside was shattered by the sound of a shotgun and a cry of pain. Farmer Joseph Clarke Kistruck’s gun had accidentally been discharged, shooting him in the thigh. The loss of blood sadly proved fatal.
Essex Standard 27 February 1863
Although the family must have been reasonably well off, it wasn’t going to be easy for his widow Amelia, left with twelve children to look after, and, using the 19th century equivalent of GoFundMe, a fund was launched to help her, soon raising an impressive amount of money.
Suffolk Chronicle 09 May 1863
The twelve children included five sons and seven daughters, and, as this is, in part, a one-name study, we need to consider the boys. There were Joseph Clarke junior (1843), James (1850), John (1851), Jeremiah (1852) and Josiah Ernest (1861).
Jeremiah Kistruck (1852-1938), who spent time in an orphanage after his father’s death, later moving to London.Susanna Elizabeth Kistruck (1847-1927), who emigrated to Kansas.
It’s the two oldest of the boys, Joseph and James, who, in a small way, made their names in chess.
Joseph Clarke Kistruck junior moved to Ipswich after his father’s death, where he found work as an engine fitter, marrying in 1877 and then moving to Clacton on Sea, where his son, of course also named Joseph Clarke Kistruck, was born in 1883. (I wonder what he would have thought of Clacton’s new MP.) This was, as regular readers will know, during a decade in which many chess clubs started up, and chess was beginning to look like the game we now know.
In January 1889 a new chess opened in Clacton, and Joseph was one of the first members. On Easter Monday they played a match against a team of visitors, whose number included Joseph’s brother James.
East Essex Advertiser and Clacton News 26 April 1889
Joseph also took second place in the inaugural club championship, which concluded the following month.
The last time we hear from him, is in a match against local rivals Colchester in 1890. Perhaps he had to retire from chess for health reasons as he sadly died in September 1892. His son, though, followed in his footsteps, playing in a match for Clacton, again against Colchester, in 1906.
Joseph Clarke Kistruck III (1884-1964) pictured at Pinehurst Barracks, Farnborough in November 1917.
James, meanwhile, had moved to London, working for Jeremiah Rotherham & Co, a large department store on Shoreditch High Street, and, unmarried, living on the premises.
His name started appearing in the press in December 1887 as a regular solver of chess problems. Apart from the friendly match against his brother’s team we have no evidence of him playing club chess.
For several years his name was seen regularly in both local and national papers, which, week after week, would publish lists of those who had submitted correct solutions to their puzzles. He was clearly an accomplished solver.
In 1891 he tried his hand at composition, but the g and h files have been cut off in the online newspaper.
East Anglian Daily Times 25 April 1891
The following week the paper reported that the position, as published, had multiple solutions, and that a black pawn on g7 should be added. The correct solution, if indeed there was one, doesn’t appear to have been published.
If you also add a white pawn on g4 you get a sound, but not at all interesting, mate in 2.
Perhaps any problemists reading this can come up with something better.
By 1893 he was solving far less frequently, and, by the dawn of the 20th century he’d stopped completely, only returning late in life, with mentions in 1928 and 1929, and living on until 1935.
Back in 1909 he unexpectedly married a much younger woman, and their only son, James (of course) Frederick Kistruck, was born the following year. (It looks like they might have had an earlier son with the same name who didn’t survive, and whose birth was registered shortly after his death.) They had now moved out to North London, but he continued working for the same company. Even at the age of 71, in 1921, and by that time living in Wood Green, he was employed as a warehouseman.
There were a couple of other Kistrucks who occasionally solved chess problems. In 1889 there was a J S Kistruck (‘we note the different name’), who might have been a cousin, James Syer Kistruck. In 1893, EE Kistruck from Offton solved a problem in the East Anglian Daily Times. This must have been Joseph and James’s sister Edith Eliza Kistruck (1859-1908): it’s good to know that chess was played by girls as well as boys in the Kistruck family. Edith never married, moving around a lot and spending time with her siblings. In 1885 she gave birth to an illegitimate son, Oliver, in Bethnal Green (near where James was working) who died the following year.
Having looked at the chess careers of the Kistruck family, we need to return to the 7-year-old problemist James Kistruck, living in either London or Clacton, depending on which source you prefer, and having a problem published in Hackney.
James Kistruck was living near Hackney at the time, solving and attempting to compose problems. As of 1891 he had no children. His older brother Joseph was living in Clacton and playing over the board, and had a 7-year-old son, but his name was also Joseph, not James.
It seems to me that this was just a harmless hoax, cashing in on the fame of Lilian Baird to get a couple of problems published. I’d guess James composed them, and used his name, but his nephew’s age and home town to get them published.
If you have any other thoughts, do let me know, and don’t forget to come back soon for another Minor Piece.
Sources & Acknowledgements:
ancestry.co.uk/newspapers.com
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Wikipedia
Yet Another Chess Problem Database (www.yacpdb.org/)
We focus on the British Chess Scene Past & Present !
This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Cookie settingsACCEPT
Privacy & Cookies Policy
Privacy Overview
This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these cookies, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are as essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may have an effect on your browsing experience.
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. This category only includes cookies that ensures basic functionalities and security features of the website. These cookies do not store any personal information.
Save as PDF
