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 1920s saw the beginnings of chess competitions for juniors. In 1921 a boys’ tournament took place in Hastings: this was repeated in 1922 and by 1923 had become the official British Boys’ Championship, for those under the age of 18. The first winner was Philip Stuart (later Sir Stuart) Milner-Barry.
That year the London Chess League decided to run their own championship for boys, starting on 31 December 1923, so you might just about claim that 2024 marks its centenary. It’s still going strong under the name of the London Junior Chess Championships.
The tournament took place, along with two sections for adult players, at St Bride’s Institute, which would remain its venue for many years. Sir Richard Barnett, whom you met last time playing chess on a liner in 1930 before sailing off into the sunset, was on hand to open the congress, advising the contestants to put ‘safety first’.
In these days of pre-teen grandmasters and an 18-year-old world champion, it’s salutary to consider how, just a century ago, the whole idea of teenagers playing chess was considered strange. The press commented on how well they played, and on how they used up most of their time on the clock.
The tournament attracted ten players, and press interest was such that we have all their initials and surnames, and, in some cases, their schools. Of course it doesn’t help that one of the competitors was J Smith, but we can at least have a stab at identifying all of them. While most of them grew up to have fairly anonymous lives (mostly) away from the chessboard, two of them had more interesting stories to tell, one inspirational, the other disturbing.
The first story I’d like to tell is that of Max Black. Born in 1909 and a pupil at Dame Alice Owen’s School in North London, he was one of the younger competitors. In spite of his relative youth he scored 6/9, finishing in third place.
Max’s father Lionel was a wealthy Jewish silk merchant, born in Kyiv, but, by 1909 living in Baku where Max (like Garry Kasparov many years later) was born. In 1912, deciding that Russia wasn’t a safe place for a Jewish family, Anglophile Lionel, his wife and two young sons (Max had now been joined by Misha) moved to England, translating their name from the Russian Tcherny to Black. Two more children would be born there: Samuel (Sam) and Rivka (Betty).
Here, in a family photo from an online tree, you can see the family at some point in the mid 1920s.
Max played in the London Boys’ Championship for the next three years (I’ll tell you how he fared another time) before graduating to adult chess in 1928. By this time he was reading mathematics at Queens’ College Cambridge, and was also moving in the same circles as the leading philosophers of the day, such as Bertrand Russell and Ludwig Wittgenstein.
He was selected to play on board 5 in that year’s Varsity match, where he faced future Communist spy Solomon Adler.
He was losing for much of the game, but, after Adler made an instructive error just before adjudication, he was fortunate to be able to share the point. (As always, click on any move in the game for a pop-up window.)
Max entered the 1928-29 Hastings Congress where he was placed in the Major B section, won by his contemporary C H O’D Alexander.
He lost this game against another talented teenager, where he made a couple of understandable defensive errors against Mortlock’s kingside attack.
In the matches preceding the 1929 Varsity Match Max won two games against Maurice Goldstein, one of the strongest London amateurs of his day.
Here’s one of them.
It’s interesting to observe in these games that players were experimenting with openings (the Pirc Defence and the Benko Gambit) which would only become established several decades later.
In the Varsity Match itself he again faced Solomon Adler, this time getting crushed with the black pieces after playing the opening much too passively.
Max’s next appearance was in the 1930 Varsity Match, by which time he’d reached the heights of Board 2, facing (Arthur) Eric Smith.
Again, he was lucky to escape with a draw after the future Canon missed a couple of wins.
But that was to be the end of his competitive chess career, as, on completing his studies he chose to devote himself to his academic and family life.
After graduating in 1930 Max spent a year studying in Göttingen, before taking a post teaching mathematics at the Royal Grammar School in Newcastle, at the same time writing his first book, The Nature of Mathematics: a Critical Survey. In 1936 he returned to London, lecturing in maths at the Institute of Education (part of University College London). In 1940, switching from maths to philosophy, he accepted a post at the University of Illinois, before becoming a philosophy professor at Cornell University in 1946. He remained at Cornell until his retirement in 1977, but continued lecturing worldwide until his death in 1988.
Describing himself as a “lapsed mathematician, addicted reasoner, and devotee of metaphor and chess”, he maintained an interest in chess throughout his life. He is particularly noted for the ‘mutilated chessboard’ problem, devised as means of demonstrating critical thinking. Take a chessboard with two opposite corners removed. Is it possible to fill the whole board with 2×1 dominoes? If you stop and think for a moment, the solution is obvious, but not everyone is able to think like that.
His celebrity chess opponents included Arthur Koestler, whom he beat in four moves, and Vladimir Nabokov, whom he beat twice, neither game lasting more than 15 minutes. It’s said that he gave displays of blindfold chess and, even in his late sixties, gave simultaneous displays against up to 20 opponents.
Source: Wikipedia
I would suggest to you that, as an analytical philosopher, searching for meaning in language, mathematics, science and art, promoting logic and critical thinking, Max Black was one of the most important figures of the 20th century you probably haven’t heard of. It’s gratifying to know that, in his teens, he took part with distinction in the first four runnings of the London Boys’ Chess Championship.
If you’re interested you can read more about him on Wikipedia and MacTutor. You’ll find lots more online as well: Google Books and Amazon Books are both helpful.
His brothers both achieved eminence as well, in very different fields. Sir Misha Black, who wasn’t a competitive chess player, was an architect and designer noted for the street signs in Westminster and for designing trains for British Rail and the London Underground. Sam Black, the youngest of the three brothers, was also an alumnus of the London Boys’ Chess Championship, and had a very distinguished international career in the field of public relations while at the same time practising as an optician. A lifelong chess player, he was Secretary of Finchley Chess Club and President of the North Circular Chess League, who still run an annual blitz tournament in his honour.
While Misha Black was campaigning for peace in the 1930s, one of Max’s opponents was following a very different path.
Clement Frederic Brüning , as the youngest player in the competition, attracted some media attention.
Daily News (London) 02 January 1924
He finished in last place, with a score of 2/9, but, undaunted, he also took part in the British Boys’ Championship a few months later, drawing with the eventual winner Wilfred Pratten in his preliminary group and finishing runner-up to Alfred Mortlock in his section of the finals.
Like Max Black, Clement came from an immigrant background. While Max was the oldest child of Russian Jewish parents who were first generation immigrants, Clement was the youngest of five sons of a German Catholic father and an English mother.
Carl Alexander Marcell Brüning (usually known as Marcell) seems to have come to England from Cloppenburg in Lower Saxony in about 1890 along with his brother Bernhard, assisting their older brother Conrad’s coal merchant’s business. The 1891 census found the family in Hampstead, and in 1901 Bernhard and Marcell were boarding in Kingston. In 1903 Marcell married Clara Mary Bagshawe, from a prominent Catholic family, whose Uncle Edward had recently retired as Bishop of Nottingham.
At this point Clara and Marcell were living a peripatetic life, living in Rochford, Essex, Newcastle, back to Rochford and then to New York, presumably for his coal dealing business. During these peregrinations, five sons were quickly born: Guy, Maurice, Roland, Peter and finally Clement in 1911.
Here, in a family photograph, is a smiling young Clement on his rocking horse.
In 1921 most of the family were still abroad, but Clara was visiting her father in Chiswick (I used to have a pupil in the next road) while Guy, taking a break from his studies, was on holiday in Westcliff on Sea, near Southend and not far from his place of birth.
They must then have returned to settle in Ealing, the Queen of Suburbs, living in a large detached house just west of the Broadway. Clement was enrolled as a pupil at Ealing Priory (now St Benedict’s) School, which was where we found him in 1924.
Clement competed in both the London and British Boys’ Championships in 1925. In the latter event he shared third place in the top section, again drawing with Pratten in a game he should have won.
John Saunders comments in BritBase:
Sources: Staffordshire Advertiser, 16 May 1925; BCM, May 1925, p216. The score of the game in BCM (from which the newspaper score may have been taken) gives the players as Bruning (White) and Pratten (Black) but the detailed description of the game on p214 makes it fairly certain that Pratten played White in the game: “In the last round Pratten very nearly had a shock. Opening with a Ponziani, which turned into a kind of Ruy Lopez after Bruning had played 3.., P-Q 3, he got a strong-looking game; but Bruning defended so well that the situation changed entirely to the holder’s disadvantage, and at last a sacrifice was obviously Black’s policy. Bruning saw this, but unfortunately sacrificed the wrong piece, and Pratten, by giving up his Queen, for adequate compensation, was able to extricate himself, and a draw resulted.” But we cannot be certain.
The computer informs me that White had an easy win in the final position, but no one seems to have realised this at the time. Insipid, as the Staffordshire Advertiser annotator calls it, it certainly wasn’t.
In 1926 he took part in the same two tournaments, but with less success, this time he performed poorly in his preliminary section of the British, but did manage to win his consolation event.
Perhaps this result was the reason why Clement decided to give up chess at this point.
In 1934, though, by which time the family, perhaps now less well off, had moved a mile to the west, to a semi-detached house in the less prestigious suburb of Hanwell, he was in the papers again, for a very different reason.
Middlesex County Times 19 May 1934
Over the next few years young Clement, clearly a young man with a gift for oratory, played an increasingly important role in Oswald Mosley’s British Union of Fascists, speaking at events around the South of England and writing letters to newspapers. His older brothers were apparently also Blackshirts, but didn’t play a prominent role.
(Another BUF member was aviation pioneer Alliott Verdon Roe, whose mother, Annie Sophia (Verdon) Roe, had been a regular competitor in the early years of the British Ladies’ Chess Championship.)
Eastbourne Chronicle 21 November 1936
Clement is probably one of the young men in this photograph from a meeting in Eastbourne protesting against the Public Order Bill banning political uniforms: a reaction to the Battle of Cable Street.
A brief quote from the same source:
By 1937, and now the prospective parliamentary candidate for the Wood Green constituency, he had risen to the post of Propaganda Administrator for the British Union of Fascists and National Socialists, and was working closely with both Mosley and William Joyce (Lord Haw-Haw).
He was often invited to speak at Rotary Clubs, for instance here in Cheshire.
Alderley & Wilmslow Advertiser 01 October 1937
He then moved to Bethnal Green, working for what was by then the British Union, and, when war was declared in 1939, was in Germany, apparently working for Welt-Dienst (World Service), an anti-Semitic broadcasting network.
Then something unexpected happened. He ended up in a concentration camp, where he was murdered by the Nazis on 17 August 1942. What had happened? We know he was being investigated by MI5. Perhaps he’d changed his opinion and fallen foul of the Nazis, or maybe he’d been recruited as a double agent. Nobody knows, or if they do they’re not telling. A very sad and mysterious end for the cute, chubby-cheeked smiling lad on the rocking horse, for the young perpetrator of dashing but unsound attacks in his three years of participation in boys’ chess tournaments.
Two contrasting stories, then, the brilliant mathematician and philosopher whose name was Black, and his rival whose shirt was black, and whose premature endgame resulted in tragedy.
But what of the other eight pioneers of London Boys’ Chess? Their lives, as far as I can tell, took rather more conventional courses.
The tournament winner, with a 100% score, was J Allcock of Coopers’ School, now in Upminster, but then in Bow Road, East London. I believe this was Jack Adams Allcock (1906-1969), who lived very close to the school. He was clearly a promising player, but seems to have played little chess on leaving school. We can pick him up playing for London University in 1928, and in the London League for North London in 1933. His father ran an off licence in Bow, later becoming the landlord of the Duke of York in Hackney, and it seems that Jack and his wife Eliza helped him running the pub. In spite of Jack’s education the family were never well off, both Jack and Eliza leaving very little money. I can’t find any immediate connection with the strong City of London player James Frederick Allcock.
In second place, on 6½/9, was Stanley Thomas Henry Goodwin, born in 1906, and, like Max Black, a pupil at Dame Alice Owen’s School. Also from Hackney, Stanley’s father Vincent was a Post Office sorter. He married in 1932, and the 1939 Register found him living in North London and working as a brewery clerk He served in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve in World War 2, and, it seems later emigrated to Australia where he died in Perth, but I don’t have a death date. I have no further record of any chess activity after this tournament.
Percy Geoffrey Husbands (1906-1987) of Regent Street Polytechnic scored 5/9 for fourth place. Percy lived in Ealing: his father Basil was working as a furniture dealer in 1911, but by 1921 he was a house furnisher and decorator, no longer employing servants. In 1934 Husbands became a husband, marrying Lucy Sophia Eavis, whose family owned (and still own) Worthy Farm near Glastonbury. Michael Eavis, the founder of the Glastonbury Festival, is the son of Lucy’s half-brother Joseph Eavis. By 1939 Percy was living in Uckfield, Sussex, working as an Insurance Clerk. His chess career continued in the 1924 British Boys’ Championship and the minor section of the London tournament in 1924-25, but after this event he seemed to stop playing: perhaps work, as it often does, got in the way.
Being confronted by J Smith is a genealogist’s nightmare, and that’s who we have on 4/9. We do know, though, that he was John B Smith of Sir Walter St John School in Battersea, and that he also played in the following year’s tournament. The most likely candidate is John Bryan Smith, born in 1908, the son of a plumber from Wandsworth. He spent much of the 1930s travelling 1st class to and from West Africa, described first as an Assistant and then as a Merchant’s Agent before disappearing from view.
On 3½/9 we find Hugh George Excell (1907-1993) from North London Chess Club. Hugh was the son of an Insurance Claims Inspector from Hackney. He signed up for the Royal Artillery in June 1939, but in September that year was living with his fiancée in Suffolk. Hugh continued playing competitive chess occasionally until at least 1932, including this tournament the following year, and, most notably, one of the first class sections in the 1929 Ramsgate Easter Congress. In the later 1930s he took up correspondence chess, but his chess career seems to have ended with the outbreak of the Second World War.
Here he is, playing in the London Secondary Schools competition (a separate event) in 1925.
London Daily Chronicle 28 March 1925
His opponent in this game was Philip Ernest Bowers (1908-1999), who scored 3/9 in the inaugural London Boys’ Championship. Philip was the son of a Police Constable, originally from Norfolk, but who was living in Chelsea by 1921. He was a pupil at Westminster City School, and would also compete in this tournament for two more years. He returned to chess in 1935, by which time he had moved to Birmingham, and rose rapidly through the ranks to become one of his club’s leading players. By 1940 chess activity there was curtailed by the war, and it seems that, like many others, Philip stopped playing at this point. Like many chess players, he spent his adult life teaching maths.
Known as ‘Bill’ rather than Philip, here he is pictured later in life from an online family tree.
Half a point below him, and half a point above Clement Brüning in 9th place was Jack Liebster (1907-1996), the son of a Russian born GP from Stoke Newington. Both his parents were Jewish, but his mother was born in Stepney: Jack was the youngest of their five children. Chess must have been played in the family: his father is recorded as submitting correct solutions to problems in the London Daily Chronicle in 1901, but this was to be, as far as I can tell, his only experience of competitive chess. In the 1939 Register Jack was described as a Traveller, and also as an ambulance driver. He married a chemist’s daughter in 1941, and they moved to Dunstable, where they had two children and played a significant role in the local Jewish community.
That leaves one other player, variously recorded as JS Lauder or JS Lander, whose score of 3½ left him level with Hugh Excell. I can’t find anyone with that name in the right place at the right time, but I did find Joseph John Lauder (1906-1999), the son of a Scottish born Police Inspector based at Wimbledon Police Station. He was certainly a chess player, and, more importantly, a much respected chess administrator for many years. Joseph (Harry to his friends, Mr Lauder to me) was secretary of both the Surrey County Chess Association and the Southern Counties Chess Union for many years and later, in the 1970s, the SCCU Bulletin Editor. I used to visit his home in Wimbledon every year to collect our club copies of the SCCU Grading List. Quite rightly, the chess players of Surrey now compete for a trophy named in his honour. There’s no way of knowing for certain, but I do hope it was him.
There are no more pre-war chess references, but we can pick Mr Lauder up in the 1939 Register, where he was employed as a Bank Clerk and living in the next road to where he was in the 70s. The first post-war chess record I can find for him is in 1947, playing for his local club. For some years he played regular club and county chess, also enjoying competing at Bognor Regis every year up to 1962. He was a decent, above average club strength player, but it was as an administrator that he deserves to be – and still is – remembered.
There’s much more to be written about the teenage boys who played tournament chess in the 1920s. At some point I’ll introduce you to some of the other LBCC players, and perhaps some of the other competitors in the British Boys’ Championship during that period.
Sources and Acknowledgements
ancestry.co.uk (Black, Brüning and Bowers family trees)
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Archives
Wikipedia
Google Books (search for Max Black and Clement Brüning)
MacTutor
British Chess News
chessgames.com
ChessBase 18/Stockfish 17
Surrey County Chess Association and Southern Counties Chess Union archives/websites
Various other sources mentioned above
“Chess players can look ahead, formulate a clear plan, and act accordingly. That’s why chess is the perfect learning environment for becoming a strategic expert. But how do you train this? It starts with playing many games and analysing them carefully afterwards.
At the same time, you should learn from the best by studying the games of the world’s strongest players and gradually build their techniques into your play. This book offers you 100 strategic exercises from the games of the best of the best, the World Champions from Bobby Fischer to Ding Liren.
You will learn foundational techniques such as: how to improve your worst-placed piece; how to exploit a lead in development; or make the right piece trade; and how to create a strong square; plus numerous others.
Solving these exercises will help every ambitious club player better understand how to make and execute plans.”
About the Author:
“Thomas Willemze is an International Master from the Netherlands. He is an experienced trainer of amateur players of all levels and has been the National Youth Coach of the Dutch Chess Federation. New In Chess has published his books The Chess Toolbox and The Scandinavian for Club Players and 1001 Chess Endgame Exercises for Beginners – all well-liked by reviewers and customers alike.”
https://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Willemze
In the introduction to the last book I reviewed, Wojciech Moranda proclaimed: “It is my utmost belief that any author who is seriously interested in helping others excel at chess should treat enriching the public domain with genuinely new training material as a priority.” He adds that “… there is a special rung in hell for authors who shamelessly keep on repeating the same, well-known examples in their books over and over again”.
While I understand where he’s coming from, I don’t entirely agree, and neither, I suspect, does Thomas Willemze. If you’re a subscriber to New in Chess Magazine you’ll know the name from his “What Would You Play?” feature, in which he asks the reader questions taken from amateur games.
Here, though, he introduces his readers to the world champions from Fischer through to Ding Liren, talking about their distinctive styles of play and offering questions concerning strategy taken from their games.
There are similarities and differences with Moranda’s book. While Moranda alternated strategic and tactical questions, Willemze only offers you questions of strategy. While Moranda’s questions give you the chance to play better than the (often very strong) player who failed to find the optimal plan, Willemze’s questions ask you to find the same plan as that chosen by his world champion subjects. Moranda’s solutions are (partially) computer-generated lines showing you what might have happened, Willemze’s solutions show you what happened in the game when the champion opted for the correct plan.
Willemze prefaces each chapter (or ‘part’) with a few pages describing the player’s style and giving a few examples of his play. He’s writing, then, for players who may be less knowledgeable about chess history and won’t have seen most of the positions before. Moranda’s assuming his readers will be well aware of the world champions’ styles and will be familiar with many of their games.
Moranda is writing mainly for very strong and ambitious players with plenty of time available for study.
Willemze is pitching his book at a slightly lower level, ‘club players’ according to the title.
Solving these exercises, he claims, will help every ambitious club player to better construct their own plans in a chess game.
He lists some of the lessons you’ll learn:
improve your worst placed piece;
exploit a lead in development;
make the right piece trade;
create a strong square;
discover your opponent’s weakest spot;
use an open file;
launch a powerful pawn break;
open up the position when needed;
Each of the 100 questions is presented in a jumbo sized diagram. Overleaf you’ll discover whether or not you found the solution, followed by a boxed ‘conclusion’ explaining the lesson to be learnt. At the end of each part you’ll find a page of flash cards which you may find useful if you like learning that way.
Let’s turn to a few random examples.
This is Karpov – Malaniuk (USSR Championship 1988). Can you find a way to activate the white bishops?
If you sacrificed the exchange on e7 you found the correct solution.
Here’s the game: click on any move for a pop-up window.
From Miles – Anand (Manila Interzonal 1990): Anand has developed a very powerful initiative on the queenside. What should be his next step?
If you chose Qc8 here, preparing to open up a second front on the other side of the board, you’ve played as well as Anand.
The complete game again:
My final position comes from a Carlsen game you might not be familiar with.
Dourerassou – Carlsen (World U14 Championship Chalkidiki 2003): how, Willemze wants to know, did Carlsen gain the upper hand?
The young Carlsen chose Rd4, to unleash his bishop, appreciating that, once the position opens up it will be superior to the white knight.
You’ll see here what happened next.
Although some of the positions will be familiar to some readers, there are many examples, such as this, from games which will be less well known. Even if you’re very well read, there will be some unfamiliar material here for you.
Willemze has done an excellent job in finding suitable positions for the book, and in offering clear and concise explanations without using reams of computer analysis. This book, I would suggest, is suitable for average or stronger club players, perhaps 1600-2200 strength, with 1800-2000 the main target market. But see what you think from the examples here and in the sample pages.
Production levels are well up to this publisher’s usual high standards, so, if you like what you’ve seen so far, you won’t be disappointed. An enjoyable read which will tell you something about the classical world champions from Fischer through to Ding, and provide you with an array of tools to improve your strategic skills.
You can find out more about the book here and read some sample pages here.
Richard James, Twickenham 21st December 2024
Richard James
Book Details:
Softcover: 264 pages
Publisher: New in Chess; 1st edition (6 Sept. 2023)
I’ve long been intrigued by this match played on board a liner in 1930.
Linlithgowshire Gazette 06 June 1930
There’s much to be written about the Imperial Club, which played an important part in many aspects of London chess between its foundation in 1911 and the outbreak of the Second World War. It provided a venue for social chess for both Londoners and those from other parts of the British Empire who happened to be passing through, but it was also far more than that. The club was founded by the extraordinary Mrs Arthur Rawson (Ella Frances Bremner): I’ll tell her story, and more of the club’s story in future Minor Pieces.
The list of their players in this match provides a snapshot of their membership, and, more generally, tells us something of the social status of chess in the inter-war years.
Board 1: Sultan Khan (1903-66: Mir, along with Malik, is an erroneous honorific which shouldn’t be considered part of his name) needs no introduction. In this match he could only draw with the little-known W Veitch, although it’s quite likely the result was diplomatic.
Only seven months later he won a Famous Game against none other than Capablanca. For this and all games in this article, click on any move for a pop-up window.
Here he is, on the left, playing against his patron (board 18 in this match).
Board 2: Major Sir Richard Whieldon Barnett (1863-1930) – Irish barrister, sportsman (shooting), volunteer officer and freemason, Irish chess champion 1886-89, Conservative and Unionist MP 1916-29. Most of his constituency now comes under Holborn and St Pancras, represented today by Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer. He died just a few months later, on 30 October 1930, following an operation. You can read an extensive obituary published by the BCMhere (scroll down to ‘Barnett’).
Here’s his game from this match, which also looks like a diplomatic draw as he was a pawn up with a probably winning advantage in the final position.
Board 3: Charles Wreford-Brown (1866-1951) – amateur footballer (one of the best of his day, captaining his national team) and cricketer. He didn’t play a lot of competitive chess, but what he did was at a high standard, taking part in the unofficial chess olympiad of 1924 (he lost to Marcel Duchamp in an unlikely encounter between two very different celebrities) and playing in the 1933 British Championship, where he unfortunately had to withdraw for health reasons having won and drawn his first two games. A few years ago I met one of his cousins in a school chess club and was able to show him this game.
Here he is, wearing his England football shirt.
Board 4: Vickerman Henzell Rutherford (1860-1934), politician and doctor. The Imperial Chess Club attracted many politicians, mostly from the Conservative Party, but the splendidly named VH Rutherford was an exception, representing the Liberal Party as an MP before switching allegiance to the Labour Party. The current incarnation of his Brentford constituency, now Brentford and Isleworth, is currently represented by Ruth Cadbury, very distantly related to the Secretary of Richmond & Twickenham Chess Club.
In 1925 Barnett and Rutherford played in the two parallel sections of the First Class tournament at the British Championships in Stratford, both scoring 6/11, suggesting that they were both strong club standard players. EdoChess gives Rutherford’s rating at the time as about 2000. Judge for yourself from this game.
Board 5: Colonel E Marinas: not certain about his identity but there was a Spanish (?) naval officer named Eugenio Marinas around at the time so it might possibly have been him.
Board 6: Edward Harry Church (1867-1947), a pharmaceutical chemist from Cambridge, was a leading light in local chess circles, being President of his club for many years and would later (1938-39) be elected President of the Southern Counties Chess Union. He must have had occasion to spend time in London as well.
Board 7: JG Bennett. I’m uncertain as to the identity of this player. There were two JG Bennetts loosely involved in chess: James George Bennett (1866-1952) was a journalist from Grantham in Lincolnshire: quite a long way from London, but he could have been there on business. There was also a JG Bennett involved in administration and occasionally playing in Kent, perhaps in the Canterbury area, but I haven’t been able to identify him further.
Board 8: Miss Kate (Catherine) Belinda Finn (1864-1932) had been active in Ladies’ chess circles, being a founder member of the Ladies’ Chess Club in 1895, as well as winning the British Ladies’ Championship in 1904 and 1905. For further information see John Saunders here.
She’s on the right here, playing in the 1905 British Ladies Championship.
Board 9: this must be John Goodrich Wemyss Woods (1852-1944), a retired schoolmaster (second master and mathematics teacher at Gresham’s School, Norfolk) and amateur artist. The only other chess reference I can find for him is helping to provide some annotations to a game played by a fellow Imperial member some years earlier.
Here’s one of his paintings.
Woods, John Goodrich Wemyss; Star Bridge, Newbury, Berkshire; West Berkshire Museum; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/star-bridge-newbury-berkshire-27437
Board 10: Hon. Arthur James Beresford Lowther (1888-1967) was a barrister who served in the First World War (see here), After the war he became Assistant Commissioner for Kenya (1918-20) and later Aide-de-Camp to the Governor of Southern Rhodesia in 1923. On his return to England he took up competitive chess, finishing runner-up in the 2nd Class tournament in the 1927 British Championships.
Board 11: Miss Alice Elizabeth Hooke (1862-1942), who has featured in earlier Minor Pieces here and here. She was a chess player and organiser, sharing first place in the 1930 and 1932 British Ladies Championships.
The Imperial Review 15 July 1909 (from the Hooke family website)
Board 12: Mrs Amy Eleanor Wheelwright, née Benskin (1890-1980), another of the strongest lady players of the period, sharing first place in the 1931 British Ladies Championship, and taking the runner-up spot in 1933. Here she lost to the tournament winner, a member of Sir Umar Hayat Khan’s entourage.
Liverpool Daily Post 14 October 1931
Board 13: Rufus Henry Streatfeild Stevenson (1878-1943), later the husband of Vera Menchik and Hon. Secretary of the BCF, was one of the most important figures in British chess in the inter-war years as an administrator and also a promoter of women’s chess. He was also a regular competitive player, winning the Kent championship in 1919: a result which probably flattered him as I suspect the stronger players in the county didn’t take part.
https://www.saund.co.uk/britbase/arch30.htm
Board 14: James Frederick Chance (1856-1938) came from a prominent family of glass manufacturers in the Black Country but later devoted his life to the study of history. In 1911 he was in Offchurch, near Leamington Spa, visiting his sister Eleanor and her husband, a retired clergyman named William Bedford. They were living next door to the vicarage where James Agar-Ellis employed my great aunt Ada Padbury as a cook. He was a long-standing member of the Imperial Chess Club, serving as president from 1934 until his death. His obituary in the BCM described him as being a chess player of medium strength.
Here he is, in 1935, playing the young Elaine Saunders.
Daily Herald 25 November 1935
Board 15: Julian Veitch Jameson (1880-1932) came from a family with Irish and Scottish connections as well as links to both India and Kenya. In 1891 he was living in Bowden Hall, Great Bowden, near Market Harborough, where he might, I suppose, have met some of my father’s relations. He later worked as an indigo planter in India. His middle name came from his grandmother Mary Jane Veitch, so he may have been distantly related to Sultan Khan’s opponent. He was active in chess circles for the last few years of his life, scoring 50% in the 2nd Class B section at the 1929 British Championship in Ramsgate, when he was living in Chalfont St Giles, but later moving to Folkestone, where he drew with Yates in a 1931 simul. His son Thomas played cricket for Hampshire.
This photograph from an online family tree shows Julian with a friend.
Board 16: Miss Mary Ann Eliza Andrews (1863-1954) was born on the island of Jersey, but her family later moved to Brighton. Her brother, William Richard Andrews, was a prominent Sussex player. She later worked as a schoolmistress. In 1921 she was living in New Cross, South London, in the same road as Jack Redon and his family, but teaching at Halley Road School in Limehouse, north of the Thames. She only seems to have taken up competitive chess on her retirement, playing in the British Ladies Championship in 1923, 1926, and in 8 consecutive years from 1928 to 1935. Her best scores were 8/11 in 1934, and 7/11 in 1930, 1931 and 1932. In 1928 she shared first place in the 2nd Class B section of the West of England Championships (well ahead of Arthur Lowther), but lost this game to the other joint winner, who was killed by a Japanese sniper in Burma in 1944.
British Chess Magazine May 1923
Miss Andrews is the lady wearing what looks like a fur stole centre left, with Lilly Eveling next to her. Lilly’s sister Clara is further along the same row towards the right. If you visit BritBase here you can hover over the faces to identify the names.
Board 17: FH George. I have no information about this player. Seemingly not connected to TH George of Ilford, who would have been on a much higher board. There was a player of that age who lost all his games in a junior tournament in Ramsgate in 1929. There was a Frank Harold George from London (1870-1940) who was, intriguingly, a Comedian in 1911, and working for Harrods as a Clerk in the Counting House in 1921. This might, I suppose, have been him.
Board 18: Major General Nawab Sir Umar Hayat Khan Tiwana (1874-1944) was a soldier of the Indian Empire, one of the largest landholders in the Punjab, and an elected member of the Council of State of India, who had brought Sultan Khan to London and promoted his chess career. He must also have been a reasonably strong player himself.
Board 19: Mrs Latham is something of a mystery. She played in the 1907 Ostend Ladies tournament, then joined the Ladies club in London, moving on, like many of her clubmates, to the Imperial Chess Club, where she played at least up to this match. She can be seen in a photograph of a reception held for Alekhine in 1932, but she was never awarded even an initial, let alone a first name. Can anyone out there help identify her?
British Chess Magazine Feburary 1932
Mrs Latham is the lady seated on the left, with Mrs Arthur Rawson next to her. You’ll then spot Vera Menchik and Alekhine, with Sultan Khan on the floor on the right. Other participants on the liner included RHS Stevenson (2nd left top row), C Wreford-Brown (4th left top row), next to him Sir Ernest Graham-Little, and then Sir Umar Hayat Khan. Edward Winter provides the full list of names here (you’ll have to scroll down a bit). Note that A Rutherford is not related to VH Rutherford.
Board 20: Mrs M Healey is another mystery. She played in some tournaments in the late 1920s when she was living in South Croydon, and again in the late 1930s by which time she had moved to Hastings. She won a prize at Hastings in 1938 for the best score by a lady in the Second Class section. It’s not clear whether M was her or her husband’s initial.
Board 21: Arthur Newton Streatfeild (1859-1956) was secretary of the Carlton Club for many years. He doesn’t appear to have been a competitive chess player. A member of a distinguished family (note the spelling) who would therefore have had a family connection with his teammate on Board 13.
Board 22: most likely to be Harry Norman Hunter (1883-1966?), a music salesman/publisher originally from Sunderland. In 1921 he was working for Francis, Day & Hunter: the Hunter comes from the music hall composer and performer Harry Hunter, whose real name was William Henry Jennings, and seems to have had no connection with Harry Norman Hunter. I can’t find any other record of him playing chess.
Board 23: Miss Lilly Eveling (1867-1951) came from a prosperous family of drapers in Kent. She played competitively from 1913 up to the second world war, but with little success, scoring only 1/11 in both her appearances in the British Ladies Championship, in 1930 and 1931. Her sister Clara was also a chess player.
Board 24: Henry Bell (1858-1935) was a banker and financier, rising to become general manager of Lloyds Bank, and also a Director until his retirement in 1924. In that year he unsuccessfully stood for parliament representing the Liberal Party in a by-election for the City of London constituency. He was also the President of the Imperial Chess Club for several years.
Board 25: Sir Thomas William Richardson (1865-1947) was a former civil servant and High Court judge in India, who, on returning to England, was very much involved with promoting the development of municipal housing in Fulham.
From the National Portrait Gallery. https://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/person/mp137152/sir-thomas-william-richardson
Board 26: Mrs Fitzgerald. The full name and dates of this player are currently unknown to me.
Board 27: likely to be Miss Marion Isabella McCombie (1866-1936), the daughter of a quill merchant. I have no further information about her chess.
Board 28: Mrs Yuill The full name and dates of this player are again currently unknown to me.
Board 29: Mrs Ella (Ellen on her birth record) Frances Rawson (née Bremner) (1856-1942) was the founder of the Imperial Chess Club and a promoter of chess for women and girls. Born in Glasgow, she emigrated to New Zealand where she married Arthur Rawson. Her husband died in 1894, and in about 1909 she moved to London, where she founded the Imperial Chess Club. I’ll write more about this in a future Minor Piece. Although purely a social player herself she was a very important figure in London chess in the inter-war years.
Board 30: Florence Mary (Miles-)Bailey (née Hobson) (1866-1952), daughter of a master builder and widow of a stockbroker, who achieved some fame by playing chess on long-distance aeroplane flights (see here). Although some of her games took place at a high level, her standard of play was probably at a relatively low level.
Daily Mirror 24 February 1927
Board 31: Sir Ernest Gordon Graham Graham-Little (1867-1950) was a dermatologist and Independent MP for London University from 1924 to 1950. If he’d stood for election there in 1922 or 1923 he’d have faced the novelist and chess enthusiast HG Wells, who unsuccessfully represented the Labour Party. Although not a strong player himself, Sir Ernest was a great patron of chess who rarely missed an opportunity to support his favourite game.
Board 32: Hon Mildred Dorothea Gibbs (1876-1961), known as Minnie in her family, was a daughter of the 2nd Baron Aldenham, a Conservative politician from a famous banking family.
From a family website: Quartermaster of London Voluntary Aid Detachment No. 30 of the British Red Cross Society, 1910; commandant of No. 116, 1913. Served with Bulgaria Red Cross Society in Kirk Kilisse 1912-13 (decorated by the Queen of Bulgaria). In the Great War, amongst other V.A.D. services in London, was in 1915 successively a Nurse at Westminster V.A.D. Hospital, in charge of a Belgian Refugee Convalescent Hostel, and on Air Raid duty; and, from October 1915 to November 1918, Head of the Posting Department of County of London Branch of the Bulgaria Red Cross Society. Attached to the Westminster Division of the B.R.C.S. October 1919, sometime temporary secretary and vice-chairman, chairman 1926-8. Resigned V.A.D. 1929. ‘Member’ 1918, ‘Officer’ 1919, of the Order of the British Empire. Member of the Church of England National Assembly from 1925.
She’s the girl on the right in this charming family photograph.
You’ll immediately notice a few things about the Imperial team. Most obviously, there are 13 ladies amongst the 32 players, although mostly on the lower boards. They’re all from upper middle class or even minor aristocratic backgrounds. They’re mostly older, with many born back in the 1850s and 1860s. Apart from Sultan Khan, the youngest was Amy Wheelwright, born in 1890.
And here they all are: the players from both teams: you can see a larger version, thanks to Edward Winter, here.
British Chess Magazine June 1930
I can add a little about the top three players in Lord Kylsant’s team.
Board 1: William Veitch (1877-1957) was born in Kincardineshire in the East of Scotland, which is where his surname originates. His family moved down to Hampshire, where he played for Southampton and Hampshire in the years before the First World Wat, then moving to the Lewisham area of London, where, in the 1939 Register, he was described as a Ship Owner’s Clerk. Playing on a high board for his club and a lower board for his county, he was a decent above average club standard player.
Board 2: Leslie Alec Seymour Howell (1900-1959: Alec Leslie on his birth record) was a shipping accounts clerk from the Edmonton/Tottenham area of North London, working for the Royal Mail Line. I have no other record of him playing competitive chess, but he was clearly a decent player. Here he is, pictured with his wife, Hilda.
Board 3: David(?) Storrar. Another rather unusual surname, again from the East of Scotland, so it shouldn’t be too hard to track him down. Here we hit a problem. D Storrar from Plaistow was solving chess problems in the Daily News in 1904. There was a D Storrar living in Islington in 1911, born in Perth in 1889, but he worked in banking, not in shipping. There was also a David Storrar on the electoral roll in East Ham (adjacent to Plaistow but some way from Islington) in 1913 and 1915. These three may be all the same person, or two or three different people. The 1911 Islington Storrar is apparently the same person as the David Duncan Storrar who married in Westminster in 1933, and died in Kampala in 1944, having worked for the National Bank of India. We can also pick him up in Aberfeldy, Perthshire, in the Scottish 1921 census, again described as a banker. If this is our man he must have been a ringer. Perhaps the East London 1904/1913/1915 David Storrar is a different, chess-playing, shipping person but I can’t find him on any census records or family trees. Who knows?
As a result of my problems with Mr Storrar, I decided not to go any further down Lord Kylsant’s list. None of the names looks familiar: I presume that, apart from Veitch, who had played competitively 20 years earlier, they were purely social players.
But what of Lord Kylsant himself. I’m sure you want to know more.
He was Owen Cosby Philipps (1863-1937), who had been a Liberal MP from 1906 to 1910, and then, switching allegiance, a Conservative MP between 1916 and 1922. His family also ran a shipping company, and he became involved with the Royal Mail Steam Packet Company, of which he became managing director in 1902. They gradually took control of various other shipping companies, including the Union-Castle Line, whose ship the Llangibby Castle, which had only been launched the previous year, served as the venue for this match.
Llangibby Castle in naval service during World War II
All was not well with the company, though. In 1928 investigations began looking into financial irregularities, and this match may well have been part of a charm offensive to garner favourable publicity before the trial took place. The nub of the issue seems to have been that they were accused of misleading potential investors about the company’s financial health.
When the trial took place in 1931 Kylsant, despite the efforts of his defence team led by Imperial Chess Club Vice-President Sir John Simon, was found guilty on one charge, and sentenced to a year’s imprisonment, of which he served 10 months in Wormwood Scrubs. Large companies these days get away with far worse crimes.
If you have any corrections or further information about any of the players in this match, especially about those I’ve been unable to identify, please let me know.
There’s a lot more to write about the Imperial Chess Club: there will be further posts going backwards and forwards in time and introducing you to more of their members.
But first, taking a different view of the social function of chess in the inter-war years, there’s a significant anniversary to celebrate later this month.
Join me soon for another Minor Piece.
Sources and Acknowledgements:
ancestry.co.uk
findmypast.co.uk/British Newspaper Library
Wikipedia
BritBase/John Saunders
Chess Notes/Edward Winter
British Chess Magazine
chessgames.com
ChessBase 18/Stockfish 17
Gibbs, Jameson, Howell and Hooke websites/family trees
Kingston Chess Club website
Other sources linked to above
“The distinction between strategy and tactics is one of the first things any chess player learns about, but have you ever heard about statics and dynamics before? Did you know that nearly every critical decision you take in a game of chess is governed by the rules of the so-called static/dynamic balance? If not, for the sake of your own chess development, you might want learn more about it from this very book!
In Supreme Chess Understanding: Statics & Dynamics, GM Moranda meticulously explains rules governing the physics of the game, focusing in particular on the interplay between static and dynamic factors. In today’s dog-eat-dog chess world it is namely not enough to know the general principles, but rather to grasp when, how and why can these be bent… or even broken. Thanks to the knowledge gained by studying this work, navigating through the maze of positional transformations is going to become a piece of cake!
The 65 (there are actually 60, not 65) carefully selected exercises are going to make your chess senses tingle with learning excitement. Apart from that, you shall also benefit from the massive amount of practical advice and psychological tips provided by the author. Finally, the book’s quiz format will make the study process not only fruitful, but above all fun!”
About the author:
“Wojciech Moranda (1988), Grandmaster since 2009, highest FIDE rating 2636 and Poland’s TOP 3 player (August 2022). His most notable recent results include, i.a. silver at the Polish Individuals (Bydgoszcz 2021) as well as team bronze at the European Teams (Čatež 2021), together with individual silver on Board 4 at the very same event. Professional chess coach training students all over the world, focused on helping talented juniors and adult improvers ascend past their previous limitations. In his work as a trainer, GM Moranda puts special emphasis on deep strategic understanding of the game, improving his students’ thought-process as well as flawless opening preparation. As an author, GM Moranda begun his adventure with writing in 2020 by publishing the best-selling Universal Chess Training with Thinkers Publishing. The book quickly became a favorite among amateurs and titled players alike, gaining high acclaim from critics too.”
GM Wojciech Moranda, Photo courtesy of GM Moranda
A few months ago I saw some research into the optimum average score which makes a test effective. I don’t remember the exact figure offhand, but I seem to recall it was something like 70% or 75%. If they get everything right they’ve wasted their time taking the test but if they make a significant number of mistakes they haven’t fully understood the material. Interesting, but you might or might not consider it relevant to books of this nature.
Here we have three chapters, each containing 20 quiz questions, alternating between statics (positional play) and dynamics (tactical play). In each question the best continuation wasn’t found over the board. The questions in the first chapter (Bedtime solving for kids… with 10 years of experience) score 2 points each, for solving a puzzle in the second chapter (Buy this book, they said. It will be fun, they said) you’ll receive 3 points, with 5 points awarded for correct solutions in Chapter 3 (Even MC can’t touch these). Moranda helpfully includes a chart which tells you that you would expect to score 70-79% if your playing strength is 2500-2599. If your playing strength is 1800-1899, you’d expect to score 0-9%.
But he also writes that “Although I believe that this book will mostly benefit +1800 players, I do wish to encourage those rated below this threshold to try their hand.” Even though you wouldn’t be surprised if you failed to solve any of the questions? Well, perhaps. Regular readers of my reviews will know that I think authors and publishers often claim books are suitable for lower rated players than they really are, and that chess players often buy books that are too hard for them to really benefit from.
Let’s take a look inside. I’ll show you one position from each chapter.
I was looking for something to use for the Puzzle of the Week on my club website which would link up with both this book and the World Championship match, and was pleased to find this position where Ding, playing black against Artemiev in a 2021 rapidplay game, failed to come up with the optimal plan.
What you get here, as in Moranda’s previous book, which I reviewed here, is a discussion of the position and the move chosen in the game followed by a (computer generated/checked) variation demonstrating what might have happened if the correct plan had been selected.
Here, Ding should have played 13… Bxc4, followed by Na5, Nb3 and c4, with a slight advantage. Of course, as Moranda points out, you need to see the whole plan in order to justify giving up what looks like your better bishop for a knight.
Out of curiosity, I left the position on Stockfish for a bit. It soon decided that Black’s advantage was just above 0.5, but leaving it on longer saw this dwindling to 0.27, although you might consider that the practical advantage is somewhat greater as his position is perhaps easier to play.
Ding instead chose 13… Bg4, and, as he eventually won the game, no harm was done. Stockfish considers this, Bd7 and Bc8 (which Moranda doesn’t like after Bh3) all equal, but leaving the bishop to be captured on e6 would be a serious error giving White a large (1.5 or thereabouts) positional edge.
Here’s a position from the second chapter: something more challenging taken from the game Anand – Karjakin (Gashimov Memorial Rapid 2021).
Again you have to find a continuation for Black.
Karjakin was awarded one point for sacrificing his h-pawn: 22… g6, but after 23. Nxh6+ Kg7 24. Rf1 he failed to receive the remaining two points as he missed 24… Qd8, a very difficult move to find, especially in a rapid game, according to Moranda, with f5 to follow.
Again, though, we’re talking about small margins. 25. Ng4 f5 26. Qxe5 + Rxe5 27. Nxe5 gives White RNP against Q, with Stockfish assessing the position as about 0.35 in Black’s favour.
The game continued with 24… Rh8 which is assessed as about equal, but again Karjakin won anyway after Anand miscalculated.
Chapter 3 offers puzzles that ‘even MC can’t touch’: I presume he means Magnus Carlsen rather than MC Hammer.
This one’s about dynamics rather than statics. You’ll really have to calculate.
Black to play once again in Vachier-Lagrave – Duda (Zagreb Rapid 2021).
White has sacrificed a knight for an attack against the black king. There’s a threat of Rc5, with a possible mate on h7 to follow. How are you going to defend?
The correct move, which Duda failed to find, is 33… Rfe8, which earns you three points. You’ll get an extra point for meeting Rc5 with Re1 (although Qxc5 also leads to equality), and another extra point for meeting Rg5 with Re4. If you want to see the analysis you’ll have to buy the book!
(Here’s a strange thing. Moranda tells us that after Duda’s 33… Ne3, ‘White converted his advantage in a rather confident manner by … transposing cleverly into a winning rook endgame. Well, yes, but then he traded rooks into an apparently simple pawn ending that should have been drawn, but won after several blunders by both players. But that’s a story for another time and place.)
This is, in many ways, an outstanding book. Moranda is an excellent teacher with a gift for finding interesting and instructive positions, all taken from games played between 2020 and 2022. He also writes engagingly and humorously (not always totally idiomatically, but no matter) while explaining difficult concepts clearly. I really enjoyed reading it, and perhaps you will too.
The book is handsomely produced, like everything from Thinkers Publishing, looking good on both the outside and the inside. The hardback edition received by British Chess News seems to be currently unavailable according to the publisher’s website, but you can still order the paperback there.
If you’re a traditionalist who objects as a matter of principle to computer-generated analysis this probably isn’t the book for you. It’s also probably not a good choice for novice or intermediate players: the title of the first chapter suggests, not entirely seriously, that ten years’ experience may be required. Ambitious players of, say, 2200+ strength will benefit from working through the book sequentially, spending the recommended 15 minutes on each question. Below that level, from about 1800 upwards, if you find the questions too hard you’ll learn a lot from just reading through the answers. I don’t have a FIDE rating but my national rating is currently 1938. I found the puzzles in the first chapter about the right level for me, but those in the second and third chapters too hard, which sounds about right from the chart in the introduction.
If you’re a strong player with time to spare who is looking for a book which will add something extra to your play, this could be just what you’re looking for. If you just want an enjoyable read showing you some fascinating positions from recent games, this book can also be highly recommended. Congratulations to the author and publisher on an excellent publication.
You can discover more, and see some further reviews here. You’ll find some sample pages here.
Richard James, Twickenham 28th November 2024
. Richard James
Book Details:
Hardback: 256 pages
Publisher: Thinkers Publishing; 1st edition (2 May 2023)
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
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Joel Benjamin during the Lloyds Bank Masters
I’ve recently been reviewing books on endgames and grinding, and understandably so as well.
Here’s something, as they say, completely different.
I’ve always liked the Tal quote: “You must take your opponent into a deep dark forest where 2+2=5, and the path leading out is only wide enough for one.”.
That’s what we get here. 129 thrilling games in which the tactics could go either way. The author’s main source was his ‘Game of the Week’ series which ran for several years on ICC, so if you followed that you’ll have seen some of the games before. You may well enjoy meeting them again, though. While there are a few familiar chestnuts, many of the games are likely to be new to most readers.
Chapter 1 is Strike, Counterstrike, ‘the fundamental give-and-take nature of chess tactics’.
Chapter 2 tells us that The King is a Fighting Piece, and bears some similarities to the Steel Kings chapter of one of my all-time favourite chess books, Tim Krabbé’s Chess Curiosities.
Take this position, from Spassky – Polugaevsky (USSR Championship 1961).
White could have mated by marching his king further up the board, to f7, but instead played Kh5. This should have led to a draw, but he later blundered and lost.
Here’s the complete game. Click on any move for a pop-up window.
Chapter 3, Dodging Defenses, is much shorter, looking at how the attacker with a plethora of tempting continuations might choose the one that negates the opponent’s attempt to escape.
Chapter 4, Staying Alive, is more David Smerdon than John Travolta. Here, we look at how to maximise our chances of a successful defence, perhaps by looking for swindles.
Here’s a position from a game in which an amateur threw all his pieces at his 500 point higher rated GM opponent.
It proved effective, as Black erred with 29… Qc8, after which White demonstrated the win, as you’ll see below. The winning move would have been 29… Nxd4, but these things are never so easy over the board, even against a massively lower rated player.
Chapter 5 is another short one: Trying Too Hard to Win. In a complex position you sometimes have to decide whether to take a draw (for instance by repetition) or try for more. If you’re too ambitious it might well backfire.
It can work the other way as well.
In this position England’s new No. 1 Vitiugov missed a snap mate against Svidler, taking a perpetual with 26… Nf3+?, when he might have preferred 26… Qa5+! 27. b4 Qxb5!! 28. Qxb5 Nc2+ 29. Ke2 f3#.
The complete game again:
Chapter 6 looks at Back Rank Tactics, which might be the key to a winning combination, or provide an unexpected defence. All players at all levels should be familiar with these ideas.
Chapter 7, In the Beginning … and in the End, considers two very different topics. First, we’re shown a couple of openings which often lead to tactical mayhem: the King’s Indian Defence and the Marshall Attack in the Ruy Lopez. Engines now consider the former close to unplayable and the latter more or less a forced draw, but at anything below GM level they’re worth playing – and often a lot of fun. Then we look briefly at some endgame tactics.
Finally, or almost finally, Chapter 8, Whoops!, looks, as you might expect, at blunders, in particular the nature of mistakes and the misconceptions that cause them.
The book concludes with Chapter 9, Tactical Tips, 30 useful suggestions to help you improve your tactical play.
The first eight chapters open with some puzzles based on the games in that chapter: a total of 78 in all, to provide interactive content for those who wish to avail themselves.
The examples throughout have been expertly chosen, although I suppose another author might have chosen different chapter headings or placed some of them in different chapters. In a book of this nature there will be considerable overlap. The annotations are excellent: Benjamin does a first class job in getting the balance right between computer and human assessments, which, in complex positions can be very different from each other. I’m pleased that the complete games are always given, rather than just the tactics at the end.
The production is well up to this publisher’s customary high standards, although, as everyone does, they fail the Yates test (he was Fred, not Frederick).
You might not consider this an essential purchase, but, if you like games of this nature, and who doesn’t?, you’ll enjoy and perhaps learn from this book. It’s certainly enormous fun for all lovers of red-blooded tactical chess. The names of the author and publisher are guarantees of excellence, and I’d consider it suitable for everyone of average club standard or above.
If you’d like to see more before deciding whether it’s for you, you can read some sample pages here.
We focus on the British Chess Scene Past & Present !
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