Chess.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 999, 24 April 1891, Page 7

Chess.

All communications for this department MOST be addressed to the Chess Editor, Mr C. W Benbow. 24/4/91

SOLUTIONS TO PROBLEMS. No 1199 (F, W. Womeraley.) 1 Kt to B 5 1 B x Kt 2 P to B 4 (ch) 2 P x P en pass 3Qto K 4 mate _ _ , There are several interesting variations. Solved by M.R. (Taranaki); T.E. (Picton)l; R.P. (Gisborne); ‘A vary ingenious and excellent problem (9);’ and Horace (Patea). The best production by this composer which we have seen (9). 1204 (Henri Frau) 1 B to Q 6 1 Any move 2 Mates accordingly. The White Pawn at Q Kt 5 should be a Black ° ne ‘ No. 1205 (Thomas Sexton). 1 Q to Kt 3 1 K to K 4 1 Q to Q R 3 2 Any move 3 Mates accordingly. _ _ „ Solved by A.L.T. (Wanganui); M.R. (I» ra -, naki); R.P. (Gisborne); * Really capital (9); andHoraee (Patea). An excellent combination leading to very interesting results (9). PROBLEM No 1214. By E. N. Frankenstein (London). Black

White. White to play and mate in two moves,

PROBLEM No 1215. By J. Minclcwitz (Leipsic) Black.

White. White to play and mate in three moves

The following, is a further extract from _ Mr Tomlinson’s very interesting article on Simpson’s Divan which appeared in the February number of The British Chess Magazine : I was talking with Mr Lewis on the too great length of games when he stated that the practice of long pauses was introduced by Staunton. ‘ln the old Westminster club ’ he said, ‘if a game lasted three hours, it was a matter of talk for a fortnight.’ In my match with Des Chapelles, all three games were played before dinner. Also with Cochrane’s games on the same occasion. But one of Staunton’s games may last twelve or thirteen hours, and even then be ajourned. Staunton was not a favourite at the Divan. His chess column in the Illustrated London News was made the vehicle for many a stinging satire on well known players. He always called himself an amateur, and professed to despise these who played for money, Bat one of the professionals said to me, ‘I knew him when he was glad to play for threepence a game.’ This was probably true at one time ; but Staunton rose above the positiou in which fortune had placed him, He cultivated literature with some credit; he was a successful student of Shakespeare, and edited a well known edition of the works of the great dramatist. His books on chess are admirable examples af sound exposition, judicious arrangement and selection and good editing. During several years he was the leading player in Europe, and engaged in matches at odds with men of position, for money it is true, for this was his chief means of support. He also played correspondence games for a stake, and I thought it somewhat unreasonable when the members of a provincial club complained to me bitterly that Staunton asked for the money as soon as he obtained what he called a winning position. After his defeat by Anderssen in 1851, he became, as Boden termed it, * decorticated,’ that is, more sensitive to every touch of Caissa, more irritable, and if posible, more unfair. But he maintained his pompous manner, and his love of armorial bearings and sealing wax, which might appear ridiculous to a sober man, but were sources of irritation to those who professed chess and nothing else. One of his publishers told me that Staunton informed him, that his family objected to his mixing himself up with chess players and chess divans. But it may be fairly enough suspected that Staunton’s family was a myth, and that ‘Howard Staunton,’ a part thereof, however aristocratic the sound. Rumour, however, assigned a different name to our hero when he appeared first as an actor and next as a chess amateur. But to return to the Divan, this was in a state of excitement at the end of every week, when the Illustrated London News came in, and the notices to correspondents were eagerly examined. I remember that much indignation was caused by the reference to a ‘ certain player named Williams,’ that player being as well known in the chess world as Staunton himself, and also a contemptuous reference to Lowe, ‘that Professor’ when it was notorious that Staunton had a match in hand with Lowe at the odds of Pawn and two ; but finding bis antagonist too strong for him at those odds, refused to go on with the match, and abused him in print. This will explain a remark of Buckle’s, when someone asked him if he had ever engaged Staunton in a match ? ‘No,’ was the reply, ‘ I was always careful to maintain friendly relations with him.’ But the excitement at the Divan, was perhaps at its height during the match between Harr-

witz and Lowenthal. The former repaired to the Divan after the day’s play, and went over the moves of the game before an admiring host of friends. Harrwitz was so elated at having won the first two games that he declared in my presence that Lowenthal should not win a single came. Boden encouraged him by saying ; ‘ I had rather throw a five pound note into thegutter than that you should lose this match. Staunton, who got hold of everything that occurred in the chess world, got hold of course of this bit of boast of Harwitz’s, and in his next chess column remarked, ‘We understand that Mr Harrwitz intends his contest with Mr Lowenthal to be a maiden match.’ The players met in a private room in an hotel near Spring Gardens, and in the following week I was present when Staunton dropped in, and Harrwitz went up to him and denied ever having made the remark which called forth Staunton’s sarcasm, Staunton simply smiled and said nothing. Of course I was equally silent, from a reluctance t<> get into hot water with the Divan party. Here the feeling ran very high, and it became so embittered as to lead to very discreditable conduct on th 6 part of some of its inferior members. As the match declined decidedly in favour of Lowenthal, one man said, in my hearing, that he had sent an organ boy to play before the window so as to distract the attention of Lowenthal, who was known to be very nervous. He also did not like smoking and had stipulated beforehand that visitors should not smoke; but some of the Divan party made it a point to smoke as near to Lowenthal as possible, and I even saw one man light his cigar at Lowenthal’s candle and puff the smoke into his face. I was never more convinced of the necessity for a chessplayer to be a gentleman. But to return to more genial reminiscences. Among the players at the Divan were some very pleasant men. Ido not think that I ever got over the odds of pawn and two, which these gentlemen gave me ; but I played even with Captain Evans, whose game was not, I thought, equal to his reputation. Little Alexandre, who had worked the automation, and talked pleasantly of Mouret who had preceded him and also of some otherearlier players, said he could not give me pawn and two, but he had become old and feeble, and was probably in bad circumstances, his ‘ Thousand Chess Problems ’ and ‘ Encyclopaedia of Chess ’ having but a scanty sale. Williams was a pleasant gentlemanly antagonist, _ and he published some specimens of his Divan play in a little volume which he sold to the benignant amateur. It is entitled 1 Horce Divanianioe,’ a selection of one hundred and fifty original games of chess by leading masters, principally played at the Grand Divan. It was published by the author at the Divan in 1852, and it has a long list of subscribers, allowing how greatly Williams was respected. It contains many games by Buckle, but net the game given by us last week. The book, we say, was purchased off the author by the benignant amateur. But all amateurs were not benignant. I have seen a man take the odds of a knight and score game and game and a draw, and than retire well satisfied with himself. One day when this occurred, Williams protested that he could not afford to give a lesson on such terms. Of course, under such a protest, none but a shabby man would refuse to pay the fee. Daniels was also a most pleasant antagonist; he was chatty and intelligent, and his game had a flavour of originality about it which was rare among the professionals. There was a man named Finch, for example, whose moves were all stereotyped, as well a 3 his traps and catches. He generally tried to evade giving odds by complimenting the amateur on his strength. On one such occasion an incident occurred which became a standing joke in the Divan. A clergyman, introduced to Finch by Simpson, sat down before him and assented to the customary ‘ play for a shilling.’ He lost about a dozen games, and then got up and deposited a shilling on the board, and would not be persuaded that a shilling a game was intended.

Daniels died early of consumption, and was greatly regretted. The following is a good specimen of hi 3 original style of play. He gives Q Kt aud has the move. 1 P to K 4 1 P to K 4 2 K B to Q B 4 2 Kt to K B 3 3 P to Q 3 3 P to Q 4 4 P x P 4 Kt x P 5 Kt to K B 3 5 Kt to Q B 3 6 P to Q B 3 6 P to Q R 3 7 Q to Q Kt 3 7 Q Kt to R 4 8 Q to Q R 4 (ch) 8 P t i Q B 3 9 B x Kt 9 Q x B 10 P to Q Kt 4 10 Q x Q P 11 Q x Kt 11 Q x P (ch) 12 K to K 2 12 Q x R 13 K R to Q sq 13 K B to K 2 14 B to K Kt 5 14 Q to Q Kt 7 (oh) 15 R to Q 2 15 Q to Q Kt 8 16 Q to Q 8 (ch) 16 B x Q 17 R x B mate Williams also died early. A subscription was got up in the Divan for the benefit of his widow and children, and I hope it was liberally supported. He had been a medical man in Bristol, and was a distinguished member of the chess club there, which also reckoned Henderson and Withers among its best men. Williams became so fascinated with the game that he gave up his practice for a precarious seat in the Divan. I havo also a melancholy recollection rf De la Bourdonnais, who, broken in health and in fortune, was engaged by the proprietor of the Divan at two guineas a week to play all-comers. The engagement did not last long. He was attended in the kindest manner by Mr George Walker, who, when ne died, conducted his body to its last resting place in Kensal Green Cemetery, near the remains of his old antagonist McDonnell. The last illness of De la Bourdonnais was said to have been occasioned by the great mental strain of a blindfold game with Boncourt. He said he felt as if something had given way in his brain. What a contrast between this single game and the twelve simultaneous blindfold games which I saw conducted by Blackburne in the old Divan before its up-stairs migration. The professional players were subject to a somewhat heavy tax about Christmas time. They had to subscribe each a sum of 2 guineas to the waiters’ fund, rr As the players were more or less dependant on the waiters for their customers, no one dared to put his name down for a smaller sum. My acquaintance with the Divan belongs to a generation of players that has passed away, and I leave to abler hands the delicate and difficult task of describing the present. I have always been a lover of the game, and have done something to diffuse a knowledge of it. I have also been interested in its literature, to which I have contributed my share. Both the game and its literature have been a solace to me in the intervals of leisure, during a long and busy life. How long, the reader may judge when he is informed that I learned the moves during the excitement occasioned by the Automaton Chess player in St James’s Street in 1819. My tutor was a member of a chess club that met once a week in the parlour of a public house, on the north side of Great Queen Street, Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and I was sometimes permitted to accompany him to the club. This gentleman resigned his membership a few years

later, because as he confessed to me, he felt a personal irritation amounting to dislike, against a man who beat him. This is by no means an unusual feeling. Few men will admit the superiority of an opponent, and he who loses finds generally something in himself to account for defeat; or, as Lowenthal once remarked to me, ‘ He always has a doctor’s certificate in his pocket Thus Staunton lost with Anderssen in consequence of some affection of the heart, and Harrwitz lost to Staunton because he was afflicted with palpitations. After all a first rate chess player is but human, and ha might do well to reflect that a bad move is as disastrous in life as in a match game, and as a rule equally irrevocable. We should escape, ah me ! how many a pain, Could we recall bad moves, and play again.