Steinitz in London: A Chess Biography with 623 Games 2019055152, 9781476669533

Table of contents :
Cover
Table of Contents
Preface
Acknowledgments
Abbreviations
Annotation Symbols
A Note on Play at Odds
British Money and Notation
1. The Making of a Master, 1836–1862
2. The London Congress, May–August 1862
3. “The Greco of the Present Time,” 1862–1863
4. Quiet Years, 1864–1865
5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866
6. Paris and Dundee, 1867
7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871
8. Big Successes, 1872–1873
9. Development and Crises,1874–1876
10. Absent from the Board,1877–1881
11. A Champion Returns—and Departs, 1882
12. Farewell to London, 1883
13. Last Visits to England,1895–1899
Appendix I: Match and Tournament Record
Appendix II: Dubious and Spurious Games
Appendix III: Extracts from Steinitz’s Review of Wormald’s Chess Openings (1875)
Appendix IV: First “Ink War” of 1876–1877
Appendix V: Leaving The Field, 1882
Appendix VI: Steinitz’s Grievances (1883)
Appendix VII: Steinitz Hits Back—Extracts from His International Chess Magazine Column
Appendix VIII: Bird on Steinitz (1890)
Appendix IX: MacDonnellon Steinitz (1894)
Chapter Notes
Bibliography
Index of Opponents (to game numbers)
Index of Openings—Traditional Names (to game numbers)
Index of Openings—ECO Codes (to game numbers)
General Index (to page numbers)

Citation preview

Steinitz in London

ALSo by Tim HArding And from mcfArLAnd British Chess Literature to 1914: A Handbook for Historians (2018) Joseph Henry Blackburne: A Chess Biography (2015) Eminent Victorian Chess Players: Ten Biographies (2012) Correspondence Chess in Britain and Ireland, 1824–1987 (2011)

Steinitz in London A Chess Biography with 623 Games

Tim Harding

McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers Jefferson, North Carolina

firST ediTion, first printing

LibrAry of congreSS cATALoguing-in-PubLicATion dATA names: Harding, T. d., author. Title: Steinitz in London / Tim Harding. description: Jefferson, north carolina : mcfarland & company, inc., Publishers, 2020 | includes bibliographical references and indexes. identifiers: Lccn 2019055152 | iSbn 9781476669533 (library binding) Subjects: LcSH: Steinitz, William, 1836–1900. | chess players—bohemia (czech republic)—biography. | chess—great britain. classification: Lcc gV1439.S8 H37 2020 | ddc 794.1092 [b]—dc23 Lc record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019055152

♾

briTiSH LibrAry cATALoguing dATA Are AVAiLAbLe

ISBN (print) 978-1-4766-6953-3 © 2020 Tim Harding. All rights reserved No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. edited by robert franklin designed by Susan Ham and robert franklin Typeset by Susan Ham Printed in the united States of America

McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers Box 611, Jefferson, North Carolina 28640 www.mcfarlandpub.com

Table of contents Preface Acknowledgments Abbreviations Annotation Symbols A Note on Play at Odds British Money and Notation

1 7 8 9 10 11

1. The Making of a Master, 1836–1862

13

• chess in Prague: A big Silence • Viennese chess before Steinitz • enter a Poor Student• club Tournaments and a Visit by Harrwitz • The 1861– 1862 Tournament • The games in Vienna

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862

35

• Preparations for the Tournament • The first Two Weeks • The “grand Week” • conclusion of the Tournament • Steinitz’s Tournament games • Aside from the Tournament • match with dubois

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863

63

• London in 1862 • London chess club and Purssell’s • chess and the divans • The grand divan and Simpson’s • odds games and Playing for money • After the Tournament • blackburne match • match with deacon • casual games Later in 1863 • match with green (1863/1864)

100

4. Quiet Years, 1864–1865 • games in 1864 • early 1865 • dublin chess congress 1865 • Steinitz as blindfold Player • back in england • failure Against de Vere

118

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 • The divan Transformed • from early 1866 to the b.c.A. congress • british chess Association 1866 congress • early days of the Westminster chess club • Anderssen match: Arrangements and Schedule • Anderssen match: The games • becoming a father • bird– Steinitz match • other games in 1866

149

6. Paris and Dundee, 1867 • exit from the Westminster club • first Visit to Scotland • Paris international 1867 • dundee congress 1867

171

7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871 • british chess Association 1868/9 congress • more games in 1869 • city of London chess club origins • first Visit to oxford • baden-baden, July–August 1870 • back to oxford • Quiet year in 1871

v

vi

Table of contents 8. Big Successes, 1872–1873

198

• The city of London chess club Handicap • Steinitz in oxford Again • british chess Association congress 1872 • Steinitz–Zukertort match • Later in 1872 • Vienna correspondence match • events in early 1873 • Visit to The Hague • emperor’s cup, Vienna 1873 • After the Tournament

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876

230

• Visiting the Provinces, 1874 • back in London • Last Visit to oxford, 1875 • games in London and glasgow, 1875 • Time of crisis • Two bad mistakes • games, early 1876 • Second blackburne match • Aftermath • A Second chess column

10. Absent from the Board, 1877–1881

257

• The fraser Letter • back in circulation • The divan crisis • events in 1878 • Summer in Paris • casual games, 1878–1879 • events in London, 1878/1879 • crisis at the London figaro • 1880: german Visit and breach with bird • casual games, 1880 • dublin Visit, January 1881 • in London and germany

11. A Champion Returns—and Departs, 1882

281

• The early months • Vienna international 1882 • Leaving The Field

12. Farewell to London, 1883

304

• London 1883 Tournament • The Last column • Aftermath, 1884 onwards

13. Last Visits to England, 1895–1899

321

• first match with Liverpool • Hastings congress 1895 • 1896 and 1897 in brief • back in europe, 1898 • London international Tournament 1899

Appendices I. match and Tournament record II. dubious and Spurious games III. extracts from Steinitz’s review of Wormald’s Chess Openings (1875) IV. first “ink War” of 1876–1877 V. Leaving The Field, 1882 VI. Steinitz’s grievances (1883) VII. Steinitz Hits back—extracts from His International Chess Magazine column VIII. bird on Steinitz (1890) IX. macdonnell on Steinitz (1894)

366 369 371

Chapter Notes Bibliography Index of Opponents (to game numbers) Index of Openings—Traditional Names (to game numbers) Index of Openings—ECO Codes (to game numbers) General Index (to page numbers)

375 397 401 403 405 406

347 348 350 352 359 364

Preface found from Steinitz’s british period that are not in the standard collections, and 12 others from his Vienna period that have remained in obscurity for over 150 years. in addition, since almost every game has been verified from its primary sources, numerous corrections are provided to the moves of Steinitz games which have been wrong for decades in the standard books and databases. These discoveries alone should cause this reference book to supersede previous collections and to enable future databases of Steinitz’s games to be both more accurate and more complete. This is not just a game collection but also an important biographical work. Subsequent to his triumphant comeback at the Vienna international tournament and his resignation as chess editor of The Field, Steinitz left england for a long tour of America. in the spring of 1883 he returned to play the London 1883 tournament, after which he spent some more time in London; chapter 12 deals with this. Steinitz then left england permanently and did not set foot in the country for another 12 years. The final chapter deals with his last visits to britain which included two major tournaments, Hastings 1895 and London 1899. There is much less biography than chess in those two chapters but some information about his european tours is included. The tasks of writing a new biography of the final phase of Steinitz’s life after he left england, and of providing an authoritative game collection of his post–London period, are left for future scholars. The primary motivation for embarking on the research for this book was to present a chronological account of Steinitz’s two decades as an english resident, covering both the development of his chess career and significant life events. The chapter about Steinitz in this author’s earlier work, Eminent Victorian Chess Players, may be seen as a first essay in that direction but the present book goes much deeper, including appendices that document various controversies in which Steinitz became embroiled. The book also includes background sections about chess life in London going back to the earlier nineteenth century, dealing with London’s early chess clubs and public places where the game was played, before and during Steinitz’s time.

William Steinitz (1836–1900) was the first World chess champion—officially from 1886 (when the title was created), but unofficially since 1873, or even 1866 as he retrospectively but implausibly liked to claim. it is therefore a shame that hitherto there has been no authoritative record (in print or database) of the first half of his long playing career. This book is entitled Steinitz in London because he lived in the english capital from may 1862 to october 1882; it is both a biography and game collection covering that period. While the chief focus is on those years, the opening chapter summarizes the fruits of recent research about his early life and it also presents some rediscovered games from Steinitz’s time in Vienna (1858–1862). The last two chapters deal with his last english tournaments in 1883, 1895 and 1899, but his period of American residence is not otherwise covered. As the reader will see from the very first sentence above, this author has styled Steinitz “William” because that is the form of his name he ultimately preferred over Wilhelm when he became an American citizen—but neither was his original given name, which was Wolf. it is hard to know which form he previously preferred in London; probably it changed with time and the context. english newspapers usually referred to him as “Herr Steinitz” or “mr. Steinitz”; one rarely sees instances of William and Wilhelm. Victorians seldom used forenames in formal contexts; for example, the list of competitors in the London 1883 tournament book describes him as “mr. Steinitz of London.” in the census of 1871 he was “William Steinitz” but “Wm. Steinitz” in that of 1881; census enumerators would have completed the forms so this proves little. in known correspondence, he signed himself “Wilhelm Steinitz” when writing to Kolisch (who was Hungarian), and “W. Steinitz” elsewhere. The earliest known case where he signed himself “William Steinitz” was the letter of complaint he wrote to the Illustrated London News in 1866 (quoted in chapter 5), where he probably chose the english form because he was trying to win readers over to his side of an argument with Howard Staunton. This book includes more than 50 games the author has

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Preface

The author has relied a good deal upon the work of previous game collectors and writers about Steinitz but believes this book represents a considerable advance in many areas. The first biography of the champion was in german, Der Michel Angelo des Schachspiels by Jacques Hannak (1936). That book is more philosophical than historical in style, comparing chess masters to artists. in a passage on page 13, explaining the title of his book, Hannak describes Paul morphy as the raphael of chess, to whom he contrasts Steinitz as michelangelo. The first full biography was by Kurt Landsberger (1993), which remains the only one in english covering Steinitz’s whole life. Landsberger was an American, born into the Prague Jewish community before the Second World War and in appearance greatly resembled great- great-uncle William. This helped him to explain Steinitz’s early background and he found significant information about the champion’s life before he came to London, concerning which there are few sources in english. Probably, though, his biography is strongest on the last 18 years of Steinitz’s life, which were largely spent in the united States of America. Landsberger subsequently received more information about Steinitz and supplemented his biography with an article in Quarterly for Chess History 3, followed by a useful collection of edited documents, The Steinitz Papers. Landsberger’s contribution to our knowledge of Steinitz was extremely valuable but his work also has serious drawbacks. So far as the champion’s London years are concerned, it is considered to be far from definitive. in several instances it has been necessary to contradict Landsberger on matters of fact. He was, admittedly, often only repeating errors made by previous writers. Some of his sources were unreliable and today’s chess biographers have access to a wide range of digitized primary sources (books, magazines, newspapers and other documents) that he could only have dreamed of. Landsberger, not being a trained historian, struggled to write a coherent narrative of Steinitz’s life and to cite his sources in the approved manner. His London chapters are full of digressions. They confuse the temporal sequence and omit some important events. He rarely made it evident where precisely he found the information he was depending upon and he appeared not to grasp the crucial difference between primary and secondary sources. Landsberger was also handicapped by not being a chess player. While he received some assistance from people who were (notably Ken Whyld and Andrew Soltis), he lacked a clear understanding of the british chess scene, its principal personalities and their conflicts. The original intention, when the present work was planned, was to say little about Steinitz’s life prior to 1862, because the author was not in a position to do much original research about it. eventually it became clear that a full chapter on Steinitz’s early life and career was desirable, partly

in order to summarize, in english, recent discoveries made by other scholars who are credited in the text and chapter notes. much that appears in chapter 1 is necessarily tentative and subject to correction. The author certainly does not claim to have written the last word on Steinitz. one may hope to see in future a definitive biography where the early period of his life is explained by scholars for whom continental sources are more easily accessible and for whom german is their mother tongue. in general, research is still ongoing. it may be many years before a full picture of Steinitz’s entire life can be written comparable with the major work on emanuel Lasker by richard forster, michael negele and their colleagues, which is in the process of being published (so far one volume has appeared in english). There are many gaps in the record which require any biographer of Steinitz to make certain assumptions. He left no autobiography, notebooks or diaries. Although he became a prolific writer for newspapers and periodicals, no sign has been found that he was writing about chess during his first ten years in england. The long break between the Vienna tournaments of 1873 and 1882, during which he played only one major match and some minor games, is highly unusual for a chess master near the peak of his career, and Steinitz left little evidence of what he was doing (other than writing) during most of this time. He almost certainly remained largely in the capital, visiting the various chess clubs and chess cafes, or working at his desk in the office of The Field, for which he conducted his first chess column. There are some records of Steinitz visiting chess clubs outside London, but, unlike his contemporary blackburne, he appears to have done this relatively infrequently. Some aspects of Steinitz’s life remain dark; we are never told, for example, how he met the mother of his daughter. indeed there are few clues to his private life, until the American period, although this book does add a little more detail to what previous biographers discovered. Steinitz’s writings can be roughly divided into two kinds. His objective analytical and technical articles were generally of a standard far higher than those of most of his contemporaries and they give an excellent insight into chess as it was played in the 1870s and 1880s. on the other hand, Steinitz also wrote highly subjective polemics which cannot be entirely trusted—especially when he was attacking other individuals or writing about events ten or more years later, after he resettled in America and was editing his International Chess Magazine. The historian has to weigh their value as evidence and not take on trust everything that Steinitz wrote many years after the event and possibly when the balance of his mind was disturbed. Since chess was virtually Steinitz’s whole life, and he made a huge contribution to its theory and practice, the need for a thoroughly documented record of his games is evident. The first point that must be made is that there is

Preface no hope of producing a “complete games” collection. As with bird and blackburne, and many other major chess masters of the nineteenth century, Steinitz surely played thousands of casual games, in exhibitions or in clubs and chess cafés, many at odds and/or for small money stakes. The vast majority of these were never recorded. Such games were almost never committed to paper, unless they were particularly memorable or a chess journalist such as the assiduous J. J. Löwenthal happened to be present. A few opponents may have treasured their encounters with the master and recorded them as they were played. games that featured tactical brilliancies may have been reconstructed after the event, which would account for the sometimes slightly different versions in circulation. Steinitz himself may have noted down a particularly pretty example from memory after he went home, but (especially in the 1860s) his priority would have been to play another game and win another shilling. As a result of this chaotic process, the scores of some 300 early Steinitz games between 1859 and 1882 have more or less accidentally survived, in addition to the majority (though not all) of his match and tournament games. competitive games were usually recorded, although in some cases the scores did not survive, and sometimes they survive in variant versions. A particularly significant case of the latter (although this has escaped the attention of previous writers) is the sixth game of the 1866 Steinitz versus Anderssen match (game 196) where it is almost impossible to decide which version is authentic, so both are presented. no single game in the book has cost this author so much time and thought as that one, but it now seems likely that the version that appears in all modern books and databases is incorrect. it should also be noted that there are some games in circulation which were actually played at odds although this has been overlooked in certain modern sources; an example is game 115. Six of Steinitz’s tournaments, but by no means all of them, were adequately documented in books published at the time. only London 1862, Paris 1867, and Vienna 1873, and two of the last three english tournaments Steinitz played, could be trusted as the principal source of game scores. The Transactions of the British Chess Association for 1866/67 includes the Anderssen match and the dundee 1867 tournament, but is incomplete for the latter. Steinitz himself ensured that his 1876 match against blackburne was thoroughly publicized in The Field (and a subsequent booklet) but his other matches and tournaments in britain only appeared in magazines and chess columns, and not systematically. recent researchers filled some of the gaps. christian bijl trawled primary sources diligently to produce a fine book of Vienna 1882 soon after the centenary of that great tournament, while Tony gillam in recent years has researched baden-baden 1870 and London 1872, which

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previously lacked tournament books. Some of Steinitz’s match and tournament games were never published. not counting handicap tournaments at odds against amateurs, ten of his competitive games played between 1862 and 1872 are missing. After baden-baden 1870 and London 1872 (each missing one game), there are only minor problems with the record of Steinitz’s tournament career until Hastings 1895 where, in the english tournament book, one game is incomplete (versus blackburne), another has a definitely incorrect finish (versus Lasker), and many other game scores (including some of Steinitz’s) differ from what other sources say. These issues no doubt arose because the editor gave each game to other competitors to annotate. Later came cologne 1898, a congress whose documentation notoriously failed. Seven games Steinitz played there are lost to posterity, apart from a couple of fragments. (for completeness, in the appropriate place chronologically, the text says what is known about the games Steinitz played there.) To explain why no authenticated collection of the Steinitz canon existed hitherto, either in book or database form, a review of past efforts is required. The first book to appear after his death in 1900 was A Memorial to William Steinitz, edited by charles devidé, published for the benefit of his widow and family. That book contains only 73 games, together with an eight-page biographical sketch; a reprint edited by david Hooper added six more games and a new introduction. The first writer to compile a large collection of Steinitz’s games was Ludwig bachmann (1856–1937), who met the champion in 1896 and perhaps on other occasions. His four-volume Schachmeister Steinitz also included some biographical information. for the purposes of the present work, it is the first two volumes that are chiefly relevant since volumes 3 and 4 cover the years when Steinitz was resident in America. bachmann’s first volume, going up to 1877, first appeared in 1910. Volume two, which follows Steinitz’s career until 1883, was published in 1913 but then war supervened. The third and fourth volumes appeared only in the mid–1920s, after which bachmann issued second editions of the first two volumes. These included some corrections and additions to the original, which means the numbering of games and pagination in certain cases differs between editions. in our book, bachmann’s 1920s versions are cited. These are more readily available because they were reprinted in two books by edition olms, of Zürich, in 1980. bachmann’s first edition had only four complete games and one fragment from the champion’s Vienna period, but in the second edition of volume one he was able to add a set of Steinitz’s early games which had only recently come to light in manuscript after the death of a chess collector. The January 1925 number of the magazine Österreichische Schachrundschau revealed that the german chess League

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Preface

of czechoslovakia had received a bequest of a chess library. Herr Pollak, chess columnist of the paper Bohemia, informed the editor of the Austrian magazine that this collection of more than 500 volumes also contained the library which had formerly belonged to the Prague player dr. Hermann neustadtl. This included two manuscript booklets, one of which contained 24 chess games between József Szén and other masters, played at the café Lindwurm in 1853, which a Vienna player named rumler had noted down. The second volume, in the same man’s handwriting, included, among other games of that era, 24 games of Steinitz, two of which were incomplete. The authenticity of the manuscript was confirmed by bachmann, who said it included the famous win against Hamppe which is game 1 in his collection and this author’s. The other games were new to him. Three of these newly discovered games were published in the Schachrundschau article, which said others had appeared in the Bohemia and the Teplitz-Schönauer Anzeiger. The full set was then published in bachmann’s second edition of volume 1, with an introduction by him on page 358. He provided more details there, saying the 23 previously unpublished games had been found in the collection of dr. Joseph Lerch of Prague, who had died in the spring of 1923. At some point Lerch must have acquired the rumler manuscripts. in total bachmann published almost a thousand Steinitz games but he did not, in most cases, cite his sources. Sometimes it has been extremely difficult to determine where he found games, but eventually nearly all the original printed primary sources for Steinitz games were traceable up to the summer of 1882. in a few cases (less than ten) many years of searching have failed to locate bachmann’s source. While it is possible that he obtained a few scores from Steinitz personally, he probably relied chiefly upon german chess magazines and newspapers. He did not have the advantage of consulting digitized newspapers or journals on microfilm but a few of his omissions are surprising since they were in publications that should have been available to him, even in germany. The earliest games that have recently been rediscovered were in two Viennese weekly journals that have been digitized. The chess column in the Telegraf: Illustrierte Familienblätter ran from 1 July 1860 to november 1861, but was irregular towards the end. in all, it published 45 games, mostly in 1860. eleven of these were definitely said to have been played by Steinitz (though in most cases his opponent was anonymous) and one more may have been a Steinitz game. Then Waldheim’s Illustrirte Zeitung, which began publication in January 1862, had a chess column continuing to the end of 1863. This included two previously unknown Steinitz games from Vienna and also a few he played in London, one of which (against Anderssen) was previously unknown. There was also a chess column in the Wiener

Wochenblatt from 7 november 1858 until publication ceased on 25 march 1860, but apparently it contained only problems, not games. The late Ken Whyld’s bibliography Chess Columns: A List names Heinrich Landesmann as the chess editor of both the Wochenblatt and Waldheim’s and he possibly also conducted the Telegraf column. Landesmann had a London informant, probably Löwenthal; there is clear evidence that they were corresponding, at least in 1862. Some players in Vienna were also in contact with the chess editor of the Leipzig newspaper Illustrirte Zeitung, which ran a regular column for decades and sometimes contained information about chess in Vienna, but no early Steinitz games were found there. other digitized Vienna papers have some chess reports but no games. it is still possible that further chess columns will turn up, but the chess community knows of no more in Vienna during Steinitz’s time there. The second large selection of Steinitz games was edited in 1986 by Hooper for the Weltgeschichte des Schachs series, in which a diagram is printed after every fifth move by black. Hooper included only games known to bachmann, and not all of them. He concentrated on Steinitz’s principal matches and tournaments, omitting many lesser games. in total there are 575 games and an essay by Hooper in both english and german. regrettably, sources for game scores were again lacking. until the era of computer chess databases, most chess lovers probably only knew the games of Steinitz that appeared in Bachmann and Hooper, and when the first enthusiasts began to input games into databases, they used those books as their sources, errors and all. next into the field was Sid Pickard of dallas, Texas, whose 1995 book The Games of Wilhelm Steinitz (with 1022 games) did add some further games, chiefly from the American years. otherwise Pickard largely reproduced the games from bachmann’s first edition, though reorganized by type of event, starting with the champion’s matches and tournaments, instead of chronologically. Again no sources were provided, and Pickard included no forenames or initials for opponents so that the games of bernhard and maximilian fleissig were lumped together in the index. Likewise all the bairds and barrys: whenever Steinitz met more than one player with the same surname, they could not be distinguished. much more useful was Pickard’s subsequent cd-rom The Collected Works of Wilhelm Steinitz, which did include full names and in total 1072 games. Here Pickard added nearly all the extra games from bachmann’s second edition, but errors can be detected in his database. Pickard also transcribed a great many of Steinitz’s own annotations from various chess columns and magazines, but here too he devalued his own work by not citing the publications and dates where he had found them. There have been other books about Steinitz, notably by yakov neishtadt in russian (never translated), and in recent

Preface years by isaak and Vladimir Linder which is now available in english. As a warning about the reliability of the latter, one merely points out that on page 37 of the english edition, the blackburne–Steinitz game the Linders call the first of their 1862 match was actually the tournament game from London 1862. more valuably, Scottish international master craig Pritchett has reintroduced Steinitz to a new generation of chess players, firstly in a section of his book Giants of Innovation (2011) and subsequently in his Steinitz Move by Move (2015) which critically re-examined 25 of the champion’s best games, from different periods of his career, with the analysis all checked by computer. despite the limitations imposed by his publisher’s series format, Pritchett has managed to make a useful contribution to our understanding of Steinitz’s play, although there are some minor inaccuracies in the game scores due to a reliance on chessbase. it became apparent from cases like those mentioned above that the task of collecting Steinitz’s games essentially had to be redone from scratch. A major aim for the present book, therefore, was not only to rediscover “lost” games where possible but also to establish the original sources of the known games and to check the moves. most of the games that are not in reliable tournament books were hunted down in chess magazines and chess columns. What this author found was then compared with previous Steinitz game collections and databases. Steinitz in London aims to be the first book to include all the champion’s known games played until his departure from england in the fall of 1882, with, wherever possible, the original printed source traced and the moves checked against those primary sources. in addition, this book includes 83 games which Steinitz played after 1882 in britain (or by correspondence against an english chess club); the last of those bachmann also overlooked. The work of tracing and checking Steinitz’s games, and dating them as accurately as possible, began several years ago, at the same time that this author was researching blackburne’s career. This research continued through the summer of 2018 and into early 2019. The originally published scores were compared with the versions in chessbase’s mega database series. A file of games with discrepancies was then created and these games were checked carefully. Sometimes the start or finishes of games differed between sources, or between chessbase and a given source, and occasionally problems were found in the middle too. in many cases discrepancies are a relatively trivial matter of how the game ended. Sometimes it is just a question of whether a checkmate was delivered on the board or not; often one primary source gives the final moves as played, while another gives it is a possible finish. There are also games where the opening move order differs between versions, but in some cases there are major differences between

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versions of a game. one example is blackburne–Steinitz from the great Hastings 1895 tournament (game 577) which was truncated in the official tournament book although more than 20 further moves were played on each side! in this book, wherever possible, the authentic version of all the games included has been given, but also showing these variants and where they originated. during the process of checking games, some that were not played by Steinitz at all, or probably were not, were found. Such cases as these underline the importance of trying to trace all Steinitz games to their original sources to determine their authenticity. Several mistakes were found in chessbase’s 2011 database, including some spurious games documented in Appendix ii, at least one of which was still wrong in the 2017 edition, which had 787 Steinitz games. There were some improvements but also many unsourced games and some cases where the version of the game in their cited source was different from their database. An example is Steinitz–Paulsen, London 1862, where chessbase cite Suhle’s book as their source but include an additional move pair at the end which is not in either his book or the english tournament book. The games in this book are presented chronologically so far as possible, but keeping games of the same event together. Since some early tournaments like London 1862 were not played according to a strict round system, there is insufficient evidence to be certain of the sequence and dating of Steinitz’s games. casual games can only be approximately dated, and failing any direct evidence we have assumed they were played a month or so before first publication. bachmann assigned some games to the date of publication and occasionally to the wrong year. originally this author did not intend to include all Steinitz’s games from his London period, but it soon became apparent it was necessary to document everything. in order to keep the size and cost of this book within reasonable bounds, those well-known match and tournament games that do not present problems are sparsely annotated or not at all. This particularly applies to those between Steinitz and blackburne which (with the exception of one recently found by gm robert Hübner) are treated thoroughly in the author’s blackburne biography. The games in this book that do receive detailed annotations are, generally speaking, those that have been recently rediscovered, or about which there are difficulties, or where there is something new to say. Some of the previously forgotten games are good. for example, readers should enjoy the spectacular game 42 (burden–Steinitz, 1862) and game 157 (Steinitz– Taylor, 1865) which bachmann overlooked, although each was available in more than one english primary source. other discoveries were not in any contemporary book or chess magazine but were found in recent years by the author or his helpers, mostly in digitized newspaper chess

6

Preface

columns, or (in the case of several blindfold games at oxford) on microfilms of a student newspaper. Since the author’s books Eminent Victorian Chess Players and Joseph Henry Blackburne appeared, mcfarland have published several monographs about Steinitz’s contemporaries and rivals: bird, Kolisch, Louis Paulsen, and neumann (including also Hirschfeld, with whom Steinitz played some friendly games). readers will find several references to those works and duplication of notes published in those books has been avoided wherever possible. This book does include some information about Kolisch which recently came to light, kindly sent to us by his biographer, fabrizio Zavatarelli, since the next work he is planning about that master will probably appear only in german. The policy in this book on translations and paraphrases from german and other languages is fluid. usually passages are quoted in english to provide the general sense, not always pretending to give a literal rendering; occasionally some words of the original are quoted for clarification. There are some cases (especially in chapter 1) where the text or notes raise questions about the meaning which this author does not feel fully qualified to answer, such as what exactly was the prize Steinitz won at Vienna in 1862, or what did he mean when he said that a chess game must be won durch die Führung. in general, the original sources are cited so that readers can find them for themselves if they wish. All translations from italian and citations to italian sources are by mr. Zavatarelli. in a few places, mostly in the first half of chapter 3, there are sections of historical information predating Steinitz’s arrival in London. They provide a detailed account of the main clubs and public resorts which essentially constituted Steinitz’s workplace. in particular, the history of the London and city of London chess clubs (the latter up to Steinitz’s departure only), Purssell’s, Kilpack’s divan (originally gliddon’s) in covent garden, and especially Simpson’s divan (originally ries’s) have been researched in detail. Some of this information has been drawn from previous writers but a good deal of primary research was necessary to fill in gaps. Another section in chapter 3 explains how odds chess and playing games for money were related, because this was Steinitz’s bread-and-butter in his early years. The Appendices in this book provide further information which, along with the chapter notes and bibliography, may be of use to future historians or any reader wishing to find more information. The first two deal with Steinitz’s playing career. Appendix i summarizes Steinitz’s match and tournament career record to July 1882 (also including his three later english tournaments), though it is debatable whether some of the lesser contests (deacon and green at least) should be counted as major matches. Appendix ii

includes for the record a small number of probably inauthentic games sometimes attributed to Steinitz, and warnings about some other spurious games which may still be in some online or commercial databases under Steinitz’s name. The remaining appendices consist of documents that may assist readers who wish to check some details from the main text, or intend to pursue further Steinitz research of their own. Some of these relate to matters which were previously discussed in the Steinitz chapter of Eminent Victorian Chess Players and which are dealt with more thoroughly here in chapters 9 and 10. Providing longer texts in appendices is intended to save over-burdening narrative chapters with lengthy quotations while providing the readers and future historians with the evidence. Topics dealt with include Steinitz’s vicious 1875 review of r. b. Wormald’s opening book (Appendix iii), his war of words with duffy and macdonnell in 1877 (Appendix iV), and what was said in The Field leading up to Steinitz’s resignation as chess editor in 1882 (Appendix V). Appendix Vi is an article that Steinitz wrote for the new york newspaper Turf, Field and Farm after the London 1883 tournament, just before sailing back to America, where he airs some of his grievances. Some of this was repeated later in the “Personal and general” column of his International Chess Magazine in which Steinitz addressed the reader in the first person. The documents in Appendix Vii consist of a small selection of extracts from that column which sometimes dealt with controversies from his London years. Just a sample will be included. To quote all the columns in full, with commentary to explain what the arguments were about, would require a complete volume in itself. These articles are sometimes referred to in the main chapters of the book, but it must be borne in mind that Steinitz was writing many years after the events he describes and had become increasingly embittered, especially after the death of his daughter flora. it cannot be assumed that what Steinitz wrote in 1888, for example, accurately reflects what happened or what he thought at the time of the events to which he refers. Appendix Viii consists of extracts from a text published in 1890 by bird in which, while reviewing the Modern Chess Instructor (Part i), bird attacked Steinitz’s character. He instances examples of Steinitz’s ingratitude to english players who had helped him, and essentially echoes the treatment that Steinitz had doled out to Wormald. finally, Appendix iX is the complete text of macdonnell’s character sketch of Steinitz (highlighting both good and bad points) which should be a good way to round off this book in which the present author attempts to be sympathetic to Steinitz but certainly not oblivious to his many faults.

Acknowledgments many people assisted in the research and writing of this book, some in small ways, while others rendered major assistance with respect to at least one, sometimes several, sections. Therefore i am especially grateful for the help given by Jonathan manley (who spared me a trip to oxford), Thomas niessen (pointing me to many sources for the opening chapter), Hans renette (especially about bird, neumann, and Paulsen), Alan Smith (for finding the sources of several games), and not least fabrizio Zavatarelli (extensive assistance, but especially about dubois, Kolisch, and London 1862). mentioning them first is not to disparage the help provided by the following (listed alphabetically), with apologies to anyone who was overlooked: miquel Artigas, Tao bhokanandh and richard Palliser (of chess & bridge, London), bert corneth (translations, especially re: Steinitz’s visits to the netherlands in 1873), Professor rod edwards, Jane ellis (re: Thomas Kilpack), James gallagher and Julian Hamilton of Liverpool chess club (for the early blackburne photograph in chapter 6); mrs. rhonda green, dr. Adrian Harvey, gm Karsten müller (discussions about several Steinitz endgames), Anne rankin (genealogical research into g. b. fraser), and niels Sampath (of the oxford union Library). once again, i am grateful for the assistance of librarians and archivists in cleveland (ohio), dublin, London, and The Hague. four deserve personal mention. Helen beaney and Simon Lang at the department of early Printed books in Trinity college dublin have supported my researches over a period of 15 years or more, as has Henk chervet of the Koninlijke bibliotheek (both on my visits and for fulfilling requests for copies). Specifically for this book, i wish to thank Susan Scott (archivist for the Savoy and Simpson’s group) who agreed to show me and my wife around Simpson’s and discuss its history. Without her, the divan section in chapter 3 would lack crucial factual detail and illustrations. finally, i wish to thank once again my family, especially my wife Joan, for facilitating and tolerating the thousand of hours (and money) necessarily spent in the preparation of a work of this kind.

7

Abbreviations b.c.A. B.C.M. B.L.L. cc C.O.L.C.M. corr C.P.C. C.P.M. C.P.Q.C. D.S.Z. gm I.C.M. mP I.L.N. I.S.D.N. L&S L&W LmA N.B.S.Z. Q.C.H. rev. simul T.C.M. T.C.W. W.P. £ s. d.

british chess Association British Chess Magazine Bell’s Life in London chess club City of London Chess Magazine correspondence game Chess Player’s Chronicle [or variant title in the series] Chess Player’s Magazine Chess Player’s Quarterly Chronicle Deutsche Schachzeitung grandmaster International Chess Magazine member of Parliament Illustrated London News Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News Lehner and Schwede (book of the Vienna 1873 tournament) Land and Water London metropolitan Archives Neue Berliner Schachzeitung Quarterly for Chess History reverend (ordained clergyman) Simultaneous exhibition The Chess-Monthly The Chess World Westminster Papers (chess magazine) Pound sterling (british currency) Shillings (unit of old british currency) Pence (unit of old british currency)

8

Annotation Symbols ! !! ? ?? !? ?! † 1–0 0–1 ½–½ = + –

Strong move brilliant move Weak move blunder interesting move dubious move check White wins black wins drawn game equal position (or draws in statements of match results) Won games (in statements of match results) Lost games (in statements of match results)

9

A note on Play at odds This topic is discussed in more detail in chapter 3, but to summarize, there was a hierarchy of odds that a stronger player might offer a weaker to equalize the chances. The first two were rare: • • • • • • • •

odds of the move (no material handicap but the weaker player had first move). The exchange (usually meaning White has no Qr; opponent has no Qb or Qn). The exchange and move (black starts minus a rook; White without one minor piece). Pawn and move (black has no f-pawn). Pawn and two moves (black has no f-pawn; White’s e-pawn starts on e4). The knight (usually White had no Qn, but sometimes the Kn was omitted). The rook (White has no Qr). The queen.

underlying this system was the principle that a beginner or novice first had to learn how to defend when black against a player starting without a minor piece or more. in a few variations (such as the double muzio gambit) it could be advantageous for White to have no Qn as the Qr could be activated with tempo. once a player started winning at odds of a knight he would “graduate” to pawn and two, and then to the most common odds (Pawn and move). in both cases the emphasis was on learning to attack with White.

10

british money and notation until decimalization on 15 february 1971, the british currency, the pound sterling, was divided into 20 shillings, each of which was worth 12 pence. There were 240 pence in the pound. A sum of money would often be written with abbreviations, for example: £4 3s. 6d. meant four pounds, three shillings and sixpence. occasionally sums were expressed in guineas, and by the mid–nineteenth century the value of a guinea was standardized as £1 1s. for comparing sums of money in the old days with present values in pounds, and also historic exchange rates, it is recommended to use the calculator on the measuring Worth website (www.measuringworth.com), which is an invaluable resource for historians. Some of the more important sums in the text have been given equivalent values based on the calculator at that site. during the nineteenth century exchange rates fluctuated, but as a rule of thumb one can reckon five u.S. dollars to the pound except during the American civil War when the dollar weakened considerably. The dollar recovered during the 1870s and was back to antebellum rates by 1878. When printing game scores or move sequences, descriptive notation was almost exclusively used in the english-speaking world during the period covered by this book. until well after the Second World War, english descriptive notation was still by far the norm in britain, the british empire, and the united States. it gradually evolved from verbose descriptions into a kind of shorthand. Similar forms of notation were frequently used in french and Spanish-language publications also. in this book all games and most annotations are presented in the now universal algebraic notation (often called the “german notation” by british writers in the nineteenth century).

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1. The Making of a Master, 1836–1862 is likely that Steinitz himself was largely the source for the facts (or claims) about his early career. An appendix written in 1897 shows that much of the book had been prepared for the press three years earlier; evidently Pratt had selected Steinitz as a subject when he was still World Champion. Probably he was to have been the only chess-player in the book (not even Blackburne is included) but eventually short articles on Emanuel Lasker, Harry Nelson Pillsbury, and Dr. Siegbert Tarrasch were added, mentioning the Hastings 1895 tournament. Steinitz’s original given name, under which his birth was registered, was Wolf. He was the ninth child of Joseph Salamon Steinitz, a master tailor, and his wife Anna (née Thorsch, or Torshova). 7 One report that his father was also an ironmonger has been shown to be incorrect.8 Steinitz’s mother died when he was nine years old and many of his siblings also died in childhood.9 His father remarried when Steinitz was a teenager.10 How much contact Steinitz had with family after he went abroad is unknown, except that in the 1890s a niece, Hedwig Steinitz (daughter of his half-brother Bernard), came to live with him in New York. There were rabbis in the family so it is unsurprising that the studious young Steinitz began Talmudic studies instead of following his father’s profession. According to the Jewish Chronicle interview, “at the age of thirteen, he was acknowledged to be the best Talmudist among the young men of Prague.” It is hard to tell if such claims are based solely on Steinitz’s boasting, since so little can be independently corroborated. The Jewish quarter of Prague (known as Josefov), where he was born and grew up, was largely demolished in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Only a few buildings remain, mostly synagogues turned into museums. Records are incomplete: Landsberger was unable, for example, to find a record of Steinitz’s bar mitzvah, the coming-of-age ceremony that an adolescent Jewish boy would have undergone around the age of thirteen.

Despite some recent progress by researchers, Steinitz’s early life and start in chess remain largely a mystery. Even some details in Landsberger’s standard biography have been proved to be inaccurate.1 The title of a journal article about the master’s early days, by Viennese historian Michael Ehn, was therefore appropriate: Young Steinitz, Legend and Reality.2 The future champion was born in Prague on 14 May 1836 but he himself appears to have been mistaken about the date until late in life. For example, he wrote in 1891 that whereas the 16th of May 1837 “has been erroneously given in various publications” he was born on the 17th of May 1836.3 Even today many websites still state 17 May, while different dates were often seen in nineteenth century publications; sometimes even the year was wrong. The correct date was established by Dr. Hermann Neustadtl by checking Prague records, and the Deutsches Wochenschach in 1892 published a letter from him stating this.4 Neustadtl’s correction appears not to have been noticed in the Englishspeaking world for some time. Although James Gavin Cunningham (1838–1905) was a friend and correspondent of Steinitz, his booklet of the 1894 World Championship match gave the champion’s birth date as 17 May; even the Hastings 1895 tournament book said the same incorrect date.5 So did the lengthy profile of Steinitz in Pratt’s 1897 biographical dictionary People of the Period, but an interview with Steinitz published in the Jewish Chronicle on 4 August 1899 states the correct birth date.6 It is hard to know whether much reliance can be placed on the Pratt article. The compiler’s method was to send a questionnaire to his subjects, as did the annual biographical dictionary of living persons, Who’s Who. Pratt’s subjects were drawn from the whole world, not just British residents. How much checking and editing of their responses was done can only be a matter of speculation. Pratt’s preface (in volume 1) says the biographies were based on information supplied by the persons concerned, or friends, and in most cases the editor contacted them a second time. So it

13

14

Steinitz in London

Chess in Prague: A Big Silence Steinitz said that he learned chess when he was 12 years of age from a fellow schoolboy. There is no independent evidence of his chess-board achievements there. His earliest known games date from 1859, when he was about 23 years old and had been living in Vienna for a few months. The Jewish Chronicle told this anecdote of Steinitz’s progression in chess: Steinitz’s Rabbi used to play chess of an afternoon, and his pupil looked on. One day his partner did not come, and he asked his pupil to play him instead. Steinitz played, and won every game. The next day, the Rabbi’s partner played Steinitz—with the same result. Hearing about this, one of the best players in the city offered to play Steinitz and gave him long odds. Our coreligionist accepted the challenge, and beat him easily. He now devoted his leisure hours to hard practice. Once a week he went to the café and pitted himself against the best players. At first he did not succeed, but it was not long before he came to be regarded as a crack chessman.

This account of Steinitz’s early chess successes is uncorroborated. Unlike the similar stories of the young Morphy or Capablanca soon surpassing their teachers, there is no known witness. Pratt just says: “He learned the moves of the game in his native place, and when only a boy was acknowledged as the best chess-player in the city—the champion of Prague, in fact.” Yet from whom can this “evidence”

An early photograph of Steinitz from Sergeant’s A Century of British Chess.

have come if not Steinitz himself? There was nobody to contradict him. Leopold Hoffer (1842–1913), who probably obtained firsthand information from Steinitz himself before their falling-out, wrote: “An old tutor took kindly to the neglected but intelligent boy, and gave him some elementary instruction, teaching him besides the rudiments of chess.”11 The standard of opposition Steinitz encountered at the board in Prague may not have been high. Yet he must have acquired a fair degree of proficiency by the time he moved to Vienna in 1858. It would be impossible to estimate a modern rating number without any samples of play or even evidence of who his opponents were. ChessBase’s Mega Database 2017 includes no game played in Prague prior to 1864. No games played by Steinitz in Prague at any time in his life are known. Until the 1860s there appears to have been no wellestablished chess club in Prague, and no chess column in a newspaper.12 Landsberger mentions one reference to a club in 1847 but it may have been short-lived. The longrunning chess column of the Leipzig journal Illustrirte Zeitung on 26 June 1847 included the following among its replies to correspondents: “Dem Schachclub b. den drei W in Prag.–Sehr richtig, wir Sie auch aus der Lösung in Nr. 197–10 April—ersehen.” Landsberger’s supposition that this related to a chess club based in a café called the “3 Ws” is plausible, but searches in a large newspaper database turned up only this one reference.13 Apparently the members had sent in a correct solution to one of the column’s problems. In 1847 Steinitz was too young to join a chess club; he may not even have learned the moves yet. Thomas Niessen investigated what Steinitz did as a young adult, coming to somewhat different conclusions from Landsberger. The latter thought Steinitz might have left home by the age of 15, moving to the town of Strakonice (in German: Strakonitz), which is about 100km south-west of Prague, but the dating appears to have been a guess. Niessen’s articles prove that Steinitz left home at the age of 18 and while he did eventually move to Strakonice, it was only some time later than that.14 On the basis of police registration forms called conscriptions, which are available in an on-line database of the Czech National Archives, Niessen argued that Steinitz would have had his first conscription when he began living separately from his father. He found an entry dated 20 January 1855, some months before Steinitz’s nineteenth birthday, showing him as a student living at 196/5 Rabbinergasse, an address associated with the Israel Frankl’sche Stiftung. This supports the view that Steinitz was still involved in Talmudic studies at that date. It is also possible that he supported himself, earning money by teaching mathematics. A second conscription dated 20 February 1856 showed Steinitz had moved to a different address in Prague, but not to the “Goldrich Street” (Goldrichgasse) mentioned in some accounts.15 Steinitz’s new ad-

1. The Making of a Master, 1836–1862 dress was house 922 in Mariengasse (Mariánská ulice in Czech), which is nowadays called Opletalova ulice. By 1856 it is likely that Steinitz had abandoned Talmudic studies and was working as a tutor of some kind. Landsberger found that two passports had been issued to Steinitz, the first on 30 June 1857 (valid for one year) and the second on 6 July 1858. Such documents at that date did not include photographs but, for identity purposes, provided a physical description of the person and family information. Steinitz’s second passport was obtained for his move to Vienna, which probably took place soon after the document was issued. Landsberger surmised that the first passport was unused because Steinitz had, perhaps for financial reasons, postponed plans to move to Vienna. Niessen’s August 2015 article for Chess Notes argues instead that Steinitz obtained the first passport for the purpose of moving to Strakonice where he had probably obtained tutoring work. The article supports that view by saying when Steinitz applied to study at the Vienna Polytechnic he had mentioned three years of tutoring. That would take us back to soon after he left home. Landsberger, born in Prague, the great-grand-nephew of Steinitz, wrote that “German was the language of the Prague Jews, although Hebrew letters were used to write German during the ghetto days.”16 Certainly, in order to be confident of studying in Vienna, Steinitz must have been fluent in German, which may well have been his mother tongue, although Landsberger also says his parents may have used Czech or Yiddish. The Jewish Chronicle said Steinitz was “about twenty” when he left Bohemia for Vienna, but he was 22 then. By the time he obtained those first passports, he had exchanged his typically Jewish forename Wolf for Wilhelm, and during his London period he seems to have gradually adopted the Anglicized form of William. He remained an Austrian citizen until November 1888 when he became American. Then, Landsberger has shown, William became his official forename.17 There is no evidence to show whether Steinitz revisited Bohemia after he left in 1858. Certainly he did not play any competitive chess in his native land; what is now a strong chess tradition in that country only developed later. Gradually it produced a few minor chess masters: the aforementioned Neustadtl, Moritz Porges (against whom Steinitz won a marathon game at Nuremberg in 1896), and Karel Traxler, who gave his name to the wild variation of the Two Knights Defense which in America is known as the WilkesBarre. No international tournament was played in what is now the Czech Republic during Steinitz’s lifetime. When Steinitz took the train to Vienna, in July or August of 1858, he was probably accompanied by his lifelong friend Josef Popper (1838–1921), who was also going to the Imperial capital to study mathematics and physics. Popper, who much latter wrote under the pseudonym Lynkeus, is men-

15

Steinitz’s lifelong friend Josef Popper-Lynkeus. (Photograph from Adolf Gelber, Josef Popper-Lynkeus: Sein Leben und sein Werken [1923].)

tioned both in Landsberger’s biography and in Ehn’s writings, although they cite different editions of Popper’s autobiography from the ones we have seen.18 Popper was born in the Jewish ghetto of the Bohemian town of Kolin but had come to Prague in 1853 or 1854 to study at the German Polytechnikum there. Although not a chess player, he and Steinitz had a shared background and interests, and it is possible that their friendship led Steinitz towards a modern outlook and consequently to a rejection of Talmudic studies. Popper studied in Vienna until 1862 but, unable to obtain an academic position after graduation, he became a successful inventor and later a writer on social and philosophical questions, and also a poet. Undoubtedly, as Landsberger shows, they kept in touch right up to the end of Steinitz’s life.19 Presumably they met whenever Steinitz came to Vienna and possibly other Continental cities to play chess.20 In Popper-Lynkeus’s Selbtsbiographie, published in 1916, not much is said about his friend.21 There are only two passages where he mentions Steinitz; both are quoted by Landsberger and by Ehn, but the latter followed up with some further research into Popper. Music was often the subject of their conversations, apparently. Steinitz was originally a

16

Steinitz in London

lover of Mozart but then became enthusiastic about Wagner. Both Steinitz and Popper were also interested in scientific developments and would go to hear lectures by Ernst Mach, the physicist sometimes considered a precursor of Einstein.

Viennese Chess Before Steinitz In moving from Prague to Vienna, Steinitz was coming to a city that Hannak described as “a stronghold of the classic style of romantic chess.”22 Vienna already had a longestablished tradition of chess-playing in cafés and a chess club had fairly recently been established there. No doubt he knew of this and it was a strong part of his motivation for making his first important life decision. In 1857 Emperor Franz Josef I had issued a decree for the demolition of the ancient, but now redundant, city walls and defenses, to be replaced by a new boulevard called the Ringstrasse with many fine buildings. This modernization process would have been underway when Steinitz arrived in Vienna in the summer of 1858 and throughout his time there. So he was coming to that city at a time of great changes, as he did to London later. Before presenting what is known about Steinitz’s early chess career, some introductions are required about the early days of Viennese chess and the opponents he met there. Ehn has written about the history of Viennese chess cafes in his book Geniales Schach (2017).23 As with London and Paris since the middle of the eighteenth century, there would be at least one café in many big cities where chess players tended to congregate, though the name or the location might change. Eventually this nucleus of players would lead to the foundation of the Wiener Schachgesellschaft in 1857. Of its leading players with whom Steinitz crossed swords, first of all must be mentioned Carl (or Karl) Hamppe (1815–1876), who was a civil servant holding high office (“Hofrat” or Privy Councillor).24 When Hamppe died, Steinitz wrote this of him in the London Figaro: … one of the most original practical players of the century, and in force would yield to very few even amongst the more modern school. He was the originator of the Vienna opening (commencing with 2. Kt to QB3), which has now become a favorite début amongst the strongest masters of the game. He made his mark in the chess world first about 1849…. In the course of his chess career, he successfully encountered several high-class players, such as Messrs. Jenai [sic], Falkbeer, and Pitschel; and his countrymen, Kolisch and Steinitz, are both greatly indebted for their later success to their having enjoyed early opportunities of practising with the departed amateur….25

In 1890, Steinitz indicated that he intended to write in the second part of his Modern Chess Instructor, about “a still more important forerunner of modern play, Herr Hammppe [sic] of Vienna,”26 but when Section 1 of Part 2 eventually appeared there was nothing in it. He had planned,

Hungarian master József Szén visited Vienna in the days of coffee-house chess at Neuner’s. (From The Chess-Monthly, XVII [March 1896].)

presumably, to have sections on the Vienna Game and (probably) the Evans Gambit in Section 2 but was unable to finance its publication. Few of the games Hamppe undoubtedly played with Steinitz in the late 1850s and early 1860s have survived. Hamppe was for many years a major figure in Viennese chess. Games may be found in databases that he played against the Hungarian masters, firstly Johann Jacob Löwenthal (1810?–1876) in 1846 and later against József Szén (1805– 1857),27 and against the Prussian master Daniel Harrwitz (1823–1884), as well as some lesser players including Ernst Pitschel. Ernst Falkbeer (1819–1885), who knew Hamppe well, wrote a lengthy obituary article in which he described his erstwhile opponent as “a dilettante in the strictest sense of the word.” Falkbeer said Hamppe was the complete opposite of the professional Löwenthal, who dedicated himself to chess to the end. By contrast, said Falkbeer, “Hamppe did not even care whether the world knew anything about his clever conceptions at the chess-board. His position in life and even his principles might lead him to put little weight on his reputation as a chess-player.”28 It even remained an open question, wrote Falkbeer, whether Hamppe preferred his other favorite recreation, whist, to chess. Hamppe, he said, never wrote down the moves of his games or corresponded with foreign chess authors. So those scores which survive must have been recorded and supplied to chess journals by other players. Falkbeer said that Hamppe,

1. The Making of a Master, 1836–1862 having little book knowledge, “invented from his own intuition certain openings” that became known through him; specifically, the Vienna Game, 1. e4 e5 2. Nc3. He also invented a line against the Muzio Gambit but in the openings he generally confined himself to only a few variations that he knew well, said Falkbeer. Steinitz wrote later that his inspiration for the Steinitz Gambit was an attempt to improve upon a line which Hamppe used to favor, where the White king was driven to e2 after a few moves. (See Game 1 below.) There are various accounts of chess life in Vienna between the death of Johann Baptist Allgaier (1763–1823), author of the Neue Theoretische-praktische Anweisung zum Schachspiel, and the period when Steinitz lived in the city. An article by Ludwig Bachmann in the January 1925 Österreichische Schachrundschau, though chiefly about Steinitz’s early days, also provides many details about Allgaier’s successors up to the 1850s.29 Witthalm [sic], he wrote,30 was considered the strongest player and also the counts Laszansky and Somzich enjoyed great reputation, but these three only played rarely. “There was a small group of strong players who stood out next to them” in the period up to 1860. Bachmann named Messrs. Henikstein (whom he said had been a pupil of Allgaier), Hamppe, Matschego, and Eduard Jeney (1812/1813–1880; sometimes written “Jenay”), who was Polish by birth but a long-time resident of Vienna.31 So Hamppe had been the inheritor of a chess tradition that went back half a century. Hamppe’s play, Bachmann said, was characterized by lively combinations and elegant twists, enabling him to defeat foreign opponents such as Löwenthal and Harrwitz. The following is a truncated and somewhat rough translation of Bachmann’s next passage which named many of the other players associated with the Vienna club in its early days: In the 1840s the chess players moved to the “silver coffee house” where Procurator Heinrich Philip Schlemm (born 1813) played the leading role. He was in 1857 the first Secretary of the Wiener Schachgesellschaft, which was founded at the “Kegel” in Kärntnerstrasse.32 Its first President was Major von Hammerle. Among its earliest members were … the opera singers [Carl] Mayerhofer and [Josef] Staudigl; the piano virtuoso Rudolf Willmers, known also as a spirited problem composer; … Count Pongracz, and the brothers Ernst and Nicolaus Falkbeer. Later there joined Doctor of law Anton Nowotny…. Dr. Konrad Bayer, the famous winner of many problem composing tourneys (later an advocate in Olomouc); the brewery director Dreher, the wholesaler Epstein; … Ernst Pitschel (from Altenburg); Adolf Csánk; … Pilhal, Meitner, Lang, the moneychanger Deutsch, Reiner etc…. Into this stately circle the young Steinitz, then studying at the Vienna Polytechnic School, burst in 1858 like a bomb.33

Ernst Falkbeer’s aforementioned obituary of Hamppe dated the fame of Viennese chess society to the 1840s, roughly simultaneously with the matches between Staunton and Saint-Amant, but since he also mentions the residence of Deschapelles and de la Bourdonnais at the Café de la Régence (which was primarily in the 1830s) his dates can-

17

not be taken too literally. The chess players had been meeting, “at the beginning of the forties,” wrote Falkbeer, “in an old, inconspicuous house on the corner of the Graben, where the art dealer Bermann was later established.” This location close to St. Stephan’s Cathedral apparently points to the Zur Goldene Krone (originally Kramersches Kaffeehaus), which Ehn calls the first true Viennese chess café and locates at Graben 31.34 In his next paragraph, Falkbeer wrote that circumstances forced the regulars of this chess resort to bid farewell to the meeting place “which had become dear to them for many years,” and they moved lock, stock and barrel into the glittering rooms of the “silver coffee house.”35 This was the popular name of the Café Neuner, on the corner of Spiegelgasse and Plankengasse, “in which Hamppe celebrated fine triumphs.”36 Ehn says that chess had long been played there, especially by the successors and pupils of Allgaier. The 1912 obituary of Mayerhofer in the (new) Wiener Schachzeitung says that in the 1840s he played chess “im Café Neuner in der Plankengasse.” When Tassilo von Heydebrand und von der Lasa, the celebrated Prussian nobleman, diplomat and chess author, visited Vienna in 1846, he found several strong chess-players at Neuner’s. He named Baron Perenyi, Matschego, Studinetzky and Jenay [sic]. As he reported in an article for Staunton’s magazine: A regular Club has yet to be established; although a place of reunion is not wanting, since at Neuner’s well-conducted coffee-house, No. 1063, in the centre of the City, several parties are to be found both in the morning and evening—but especially in the latter—playing for a small stake. Amongst the habitual visitors to this establishment there are as many as eight prominent players, all of whom may be considered of the same strength…. In addition too to this Circle there are in Vienna other players of eminence. M. Hampe [sic], who rarely visits Neuner’s, deservedly ranks as a really powerful player.37

Ehn, in Geniales Schach, says that: “After the sudden death of Ignaz Neuner junior [in 1846], the café quickly went downhill, and in 1855 it closed its doors forever.”38 Falkbeer’s short-lived Wiener Schachzeitung (of 1855) refers to the Neuner as “formerly” the haunt of the chess players, but says that it was at Café Neuner where the visiting Hungarian master József Szén had met Viennese players in April 1852. That magazine published four games played there by Szén at that date, his opponents being “Herr H….” (probably Hamppe, discussed below) and “E. F.” (Falkbeer himself ).39 The same issue continued with games played by Harrwitz on his visit to Vienna in 1851. Ehn says the chess players deserted Neuner’s in 1853, and names two cafés that were tried in the next year or two. He says that now Vienna did not have a proper chess cafe for more than a decade, the situation for the players became unsatisfactory. He implies that it was because of this “homelessness and fragmentation of the chess life” that the formation of a proper chess club came about.40 The often-repeated

18

Steinitz in London

statement that the Café Kegel on Kärntnerstrasse was the place of foundation (“Gründungslokal”) of the Wiener Schachgesellschaft apparently stems from an 1899 article by Armin Friedmann in the second Wiener Schachzeitung.41 The founding of the Wiener Schachgesellschaft can be precisely dated to Thursday, 1 October 1857, when the following announcement was published on page 4 of the journal Der Humorist: “The Vienna Chess Club will hold its first meeting at 7 o’clock in the evening and at the same time the election of the board of directors will take place. Club location: Goldschmidgasse No. 593.”42 Another advertisement, in Die Neue Zeit on the same day, did not mention the election but was more specific about where the club met, saying its premises could be found at Café Sauer, on Goldschmiedgasse in the city center. There seems to be some doubt concerning the club’s regular meeting-place in the early years, but this may be because the players met informally at the Café Rebhuhn (mentioned by Landsberger and listed by Ehn as its meetingplace in 1858), which was in the same street as Café Sauer, and also at the Kegel. Ehn (page 80) says that initially the club had only about two dozen members but rapid growth soon made several relocations to larger premises necessary. Ehn says Café Sauer was its venue for daily playing sessions from 1859 until 1864 when the membership was over 100 and relocation to a bigger venue was again required.43 Yet the few press announcements between 1859 and 1862 clearly say that from the start “Café Sauer” was the club’s premises and its meeting place for the tournaments. That the club had indeed been established was soon confirmed by an article in the Wiener Zeitung for 24 October 1857 which at the foot of page 11, as the second item under the headline Feuilleton: Arabesken des Tages, had a “Short History of Chess-Playing in Vienna.” Apart from mentioning the club, this article also discussed the vogue for composing chess problems, headed by Konrad Bayer who had recently won the problem composing tourney sponsored by The Era newspaper of London, adding: Almost equal to him in reputation and fertility in Vienna comes Mr. Nowotny. Finally the piano virtuoso Herr R. Willmers should be mentioned, who composes for chess as brilliantly as for the piano. All these gentlemen are undoubtedly among the members, if not the founders, of the Vienna Chess Club, from which great influence on the further development of the game is hoped.

Searching in the Austrian press database ANNO, one finds only one reference to the club in the year 1858, though it is possible that there were reports in other journals not yet digitized. On 23 February 1858 an announcement appeared in the Fremden-Blatt, saying: “The gentlemen members of the Viennese chess society are hereby invited to an extraordinary general meeting that will held on Wednesday, 3 March in the society’s premises.” Similar announcements appeared on 24, 25 and 27 February in the same

newspaper. We are not told what this meeting was about, and Steinitz was still in Bohemia at that date. After Hamppe, Jeney was probably the strongest and most experienced player whom Steinitz encountered when he first came to Vienna. According to Lionel Kieseritzky’s account of the 1851 London tournament, Jeney might have done well in that competition, but arrived too late to enter. Kieseritzky said that, with Hamppe, Jeney then occupied the summit of Viennese chess. In eight games against Anderssen, the tournament winner, played at the Cigar Divan and at Löwe’s hotel, 14 Surrey Street, Jeney won three and drew one.44 Bachmann’s 1925 article said that Jeney loved to try his own ideas in the openings, because he did not study theory as much as his countryman Studinetzky, but he had in general a solid game. In 1857 Jeney played a match with the Hungarian master Ignaz Kolisch (1837–1889), when the latter first came to Vienna, but the Pole only managed two draws out of eight games against the rising star.45 Kolisch left Vienna for Italy at the end of 1857, so he and Steinitz would not meet over the board for ten years, at least not in a serious game.46 Ernst Falkbeer had also left Vienna for London after the failure of his Schachzeitung but his brother Nicolaus remained in Vienna, and according to one account, quoted below, he was the first of the leading Vienna club players whom Steinitz encountered. Another player who won tournament prizes during this period was Eduard Pilhal, about whom little seems to be known; his surname is variously spelled in sources as Pilhol and Pilhall. Two wins by Steinitz against him survive. Five games between Steinitz and Jeney were among those taken down by the Vienna player Rumler and preserved in the Lerch bequest manuscript whose discovery was described in the Preface. They all date from September 1860 when Jeney’s play (like Hamppe’s) may have been somewhat in decline, while Steinitz’s trajectory was clearly upwards. The two must have been considered by some to have been then at about at a level, because on the 3rd of that month they played some games for a money stake of two gulden, the banker or chief money-changer (“Hofwechsler”) Herr Deutsch backing Steinitz. Two more were played next day without mention of a stake; one game in which Steinitz gave knight odds to Deutsch is also preserved.47 There is some confusion over the identity of one of Steinitz’s early opponents. Pickard, in his database but not in his printed collection, attributes Steinitz’s games against somebody called Lang to “Lange, M.” but it is unlikely that the well-known German player Dr. Max Lange (1832–1899) was in Vienna on separate dates in February, March, and April of 1860 (Games 12, 14, and 18 in this book) and moreover playing so weakly against Steinitz. Another named opponent of Steinitz in the early games, Rudolf Strauss, was said by Bachmann (so presumably in the manuscript)

1. The Making of a Master, 1836–1862 to have been from Pesth in Hungary, while Lenhof came from Stuttgart. There are also two games with an opponent named Nowotny which need to be attributed correctly. Bachmann’s list of club members above includes Dr. Anton Nowotny but another member, also a doctor of law, was Friedrich Nowotny who was either Anton’s brother or father.48 The later game (which is not in Bachmann’s collection) was definitely with Friedrich. The earlier one (game 2 in Bachmann) was played by Steinitz against a Nowotny with no forename provided. Some databases name the loser as “Anton Novotny” while Pickard has “Frederich Nowotny.” Anton Nowotny was primarily a problem composer; Gaige’s Chess Personalia gives his dates as 1829–1871.49 The 1855 Wiener Schachzeitung published some of his compositions, saying he was “in Wien.” He was probably still there in 1857 but soon moved to Warasdin (now Varaždin in Croatia) and towards the end of his life he lived in Brünn (Brno) in Bohemia. No definite date is known for Anton Nowotny’s departure from Vienna but he had probably left by the time Steinitz arrived. He later won the third prize in the Problem Tourney of the London 1862 Chess Congress where his name is spelled “Novotny” in the tournament book. Steinitz’s closest friend in the Vienna chess community was almost certainly Dr. Philipp Meitner (1838–1910) who was a fellow student at the Polytechnic. Meitner was somewhat older than Steinitz, who himself was already old to be an undergraduate; it is not known when Meitner obtained his doctorate. Most likely Meitner and Steinitz played many games in the late 1850s and early 1860s, of which just two survive. Of the known nine games between them, there were two draws and Steinitz won the rest, but Steinitz wrote many years later that about 1859, when they used to play chess at a café near the college, Meitner “could beat me at first, or at the utmost I might make even games with him.” They played for a Sechserl, or ten kreuzer, worth about five U.S. cents, and it was Meitner who, Steinitz recalled, taught him never to ask to take a move back in a game.50 Maybe in Prague that had been common practice. Meitner told him: “I shall be glad to give you a Sechserl at any time, but I shall not give you a move back.” Gradually Steinitz became a much stronger player than his friend. They played again in the Vienna 1873 master tournament and also in the one of 1882, before which they had a short match in which Steinitz played blindfold but received odds of the draw. (See Games 505 and 506 below.)

Enter a Poor Student Steinitz must have arrived in Vienna in time for the 1858 fall semester of the Polytechnic Institute. Landsberger discovered that Steinitz enrolled, although he could not find

19

a precise date.51 He, at least at first, had lodgings with a tailor, perhaps thanks to his father’s connections in that trade. Steinitz may have had some support from his family or savings from his work in Strakonice, but he would have needed an income which small wins at chess in cafés presumably provided. Throughout his life Steinitz was nearly always “living on a shoestring” despite brief periods of prosperity later. It was only in 1873, at the time of the Vienna international tournament, that much information about Steinitz’s origins appeared in print for the first time, probably prompted by his imminent return to the city for the first time in over a decade. The first article appeared in 5 July in the Illustrirte Zeitung; this was reprinted elsewhere and other writers also borrowed from it.52 That article is unlikely to have been based on any interview with Steinitz; at that date he had not yet left England, but perhaps they had written to him for information.53 The article was reprinted in the Deutsche Schachzeitung* and even translated into Danish for the first volume of the Nordisk Skaktidende. It had this to say about Steinitz’s early life: Wilhelm Steinitz, born on 18 May 1837 [sic] in Prague, distinguished himself especially at school in mathematical subjects. He entered the polytechnic institute in Vienna in 1858 as a student, but was often handicapped by his chest and eye disorders in his studies. In 1860 he turned to journalism and delivered parliamentary reports as a staff member of the Constitutionellen Oesterreichische Zeitung. In 1862 he went to London on recommendation to take part in the great chess tournament of the international exhibition. Since then he has taken his permanent residence there. Even as a boy Steinitz was considered the best chess player in Prague. When he later joined the Vienna chess club, he won prizes there in the tournaments: in 1859 the third, 1860 the second and in 1861 the first prize.54

We see here the first mention of some of his health problems. This article is also apparently the source of the frequently-made claim that the teenage Steinitz became the best chess-player in Prague.55 After Steinitz won the international tournament, further articles about him appeared, correcting some details and telling more stories. Helmut Lehner, editor of the Oesterreichische Schachzeitung, introduced many of the now-familiar anecdotes in the September issue of that magazine, when summing up the event. Here we find the story about Steinitz making a home-made chess set out of paper because he “was unable to afford the necessary funds in order to be able to buy a board and pieces for use at home.” The article goes on to tell the anecdote about Steinitz’s first contact with Vienna chess club members, probably soon after his arrival in the city. *For convenience, the abbreviation D.S.Z. will be used throughout this book for the Schachzeitung published in connection with the Berlin Chess Club, although it did not adopt the title Deutsche Schachzeitung until its 27th volume, in 1872, because there had been an earlier short-lived magazine of that title (before Steinitz’s time).

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Steinitz in London

One day a somewhat sickly-looking figure, wrapped in a threadbare coat … leaned against the glass wall that separated the large room of billiards and card players from the playing room of the Viennese chess players on the first floor of the Café Rebhuhn, and looked attentively at the coveted chess table and the players. The President of the then still quite primitive club asked him if he understood the game. “Oh yes, I also play blindfold,” was the answer. Immediately two of the best players present, the tax official Nicolaus Falkbeer (brother of the renowned chess journalist Ernst Falkbeer) and Mr. NN, ventured to test the stranger and probably in the certain expectation of completely beating the daredevil, who proposed to play them blindfold. But it happened the other way around. Steinitz … beat both gentlemen. After this début he was a soughtafter opponent, and some even considered it a pleasure to be beaten by him.56

Bachmann repeated this story in his Schachmeister Steinitz, where he identified Steinitz’s anonymous victim as E. Pitschel, and it was also paraphrased by Landsberger.57 This anecdote may explain why some later writers got the idea that the center of the club was the Café Rebhuhn.58 Chess clubs everywhere tended to meet formally in the winter season only, when there were sufficient numbers interested to make hiring a room worthwhile. Those like Steinitz who wished to play chess the year round needed public places to meet where for the price of a coffee or two they could find a chess set and sit for hours. Lehner’s article continued with the famous anecdote about Epstein, with whom Steinitz was accustomed to play at odds of a knight. Lehner says this was a story often told about Steinitz in his earliest days, describing the wealthy man as a banker not a wholesaler.59 Landsberger recounts the story in full. To summarize, Epstein, objecting to being corrected by this poor young man, shouted, “Do you know who I am?” “Oh, yes,” replied Steinitz calmly. “You are Epstein on the Stock Exchange, here I am Epstein.” Oscar Gelbfuhs, one of Steinitz’s opponents in the Vienna tournament, contributed a new profile of the champion to the Neue Illustrirte Zeitung which was published on 7 September 1873. He also told the Epstein anecdote and reviewed Steinitz’s career to date. He corrected Steinitz’s year of birth to 1836 but said he came to Vienna in 1857 instead of 1858. Steinitz, he wrote, already then displayed a great talent for chess and mathematical subjects, and Hamppe had recognized his promising ability. “Steinitz, too, had the consciousness of his own power and strength, which always made him search for the strongest opponents.” Gelbfuhs also remarked on the champion’s changed style of play in subsequent years, quoting a remark by Steinitz which is not easily translated into English. A game of chess must be won by generalship (durch die Führung), a remark which (Gelbfuhs wrote) “easily explains the great transformation of his brilliant and glittering style of play into the firm and sure conduct that is by no means compelling to ordinary players.”60

Lehner’s anecdote about Steinitz’s first meeting with Nicolaus Falkbeer must essentially be true. He found his way to a coffee-house where chess was played, and there impressed some members who invited him to visit the club. Otherwise it would seem unlikely that the comfortable middle-class and middle-aged burghers of Vienna would welcome this poor young Jewish student, who was probably somewhat scruffy and spoke in a strong regional accent. Bachmann, in the aforementioned 1925 article for the Schachrundschau, also commented: “Steinitz knew how to make his name quickly with bold and elegant play.” Most likely, therefore, Falkbeer and his friends were impressed not only by the strength of Steinitz’s play but also the manner of achieving his victories. In a stronghold of the romantic style, that could mean only bold sacrifices and clever combinations. Thus Steinitz acquired the epithet “the Austrian Morphy,” although it is unclear who coined that phrase, or when.61 None of his games from 1858 survive but his early style can be seen from the surviving examples played between 1859 and early 1862. Gelbfuhs also said that for health reasons, Steinitz had to renounce his studies. Indeed he often complained about his legs and his eyes, as Landsberger mentions. Whereas Popper graduated, Steinitz flunked two of his examination subjects after a year and eventually had to leave the college. Landsberger investigated Steinitz’s records at the Polytechnic and his biography provides some details. The student had done well in some subjects, especially mathematics, but after the first year he was “dismissed because of lack of progress and failure to take exams.”62 Probably chess and the effort to launch a journalistic career had taken too much of Steinitz’s time and energy, and health problems may have played a part too. Steinitz probably preferred playing chess to other ways of spending his time, and it was his best way of supporting himself financially, even after he obtained regular newspaper work. Hannak, and also Landsberger, quote a conversation between the young Rudolf Spielmann and Mayerhofer (who knew Steinitz well in 1860). The singer, asked about the material condition of Steinitz’s life in those days, told the future grandmaster that “Steinitz was already a professional player back then.”63 As Hannak observes, “professional player” could, in the Vienna of 1860, only mean somebody who played the game for stakes in a coffee house. The games against Jeney for a stake in 1860 indicate that such duels might attract interested spectators. Against a weaker opponent Steinitz would not need a backer, because he would be fairly certain to win, but playing someone close to his own strength, like Jeney, especially if the stakes were high, he avoided risk by having a backer. His winnings would have been shared with Deutsch.

1. The Making of a Master, 1836–1862

Club Tournaments and a Visit by Harrwitz In Pratt’s People of the Period, there is the following account of Steinitz’s early career, either provided by himself or based on previously published information: His studies at Vienna had not interrupted his pursuit of chess, and he had become a member of the Vienna Chess Club, then one of the strongest on the Continent, and he at once began to establish a local reputation. In 1859 he won third prize in the Vienna Tournament (local), Hamppe being first and Jenai [sic] second. In 1860 he took second prize in the Local Tournament, Hamppe being first; and in 1861 he carried off the first prize, having lost only one game out of thirty-four played. During these few years he had much practice with Herr Hamppe, the inventor of the opening named sometimes after himself, sometimes after the city wherein he lived.

This paragraph raises the question of what tournaments were held in the Vienna Chess Club during Steinitz’s period of residence, because the answer is not as simple as such accounts of his career make it seem. Usually three competitions are mentioned, while the Linder book about Steinitz mentions just two: those of 1859 and 1860. Actually there were four, and there had been an earlier one. Information in the traditional sources about early Vienna tournaments is thin, but in early 1859 the Schachzeitung printed a paragraph of news about the club, which said that first prize in the previous year’s tournament had been won by E. Pitschel, formerly of Leipzig, with Kunnewalder second and Schlemm winning third prize, and saying there was also an interesting match between Hamppe and Pitschel.64 As Steinitz was not mentioned, it is likely this tournament had been played during the winter season of 1857/58 or early in 1858 before he arrived. In saying that Steinitz was third in the 1859 Vienna tournament (the earliest he played), Bachmann was only repeating what had been seen in print many times before and perhaps what Steinitz told him when they met. There is nothing to contradict this but the only information is the names of the three prizewinners from sources of 1873 or later. Since press reports are lacking, the 1859 tournament was presumably a small private event for club members, probably played over many weeks at the club’s meetings. We do not know the format, how many players competed, or even whether any handicaps were used, as was often the case with club tournaments in England. It is also unknown what prize Steinitz won for his third place. It is unlikely to have been money because cash prizes were not awarded when he was successful in subsequent years. In his aforementioned 1925 article for the Schachrundschau, Bachmann said Steinitz’s play in those days “…was far away from that which later brought him to the peak of the chess world. Steinitz played in the boldest styles of a Morphy or Anderssen, venturing on daring combinations. It is therefore

21

not surprising that at that time, too, many gross errors crept into his calculations. But this improved very quickly….” Bachmann wrote that Steinitz won the second prize in 1860 (after Hamppe) and in 1861 the first prize (Pilhal being second). Press reports confirm these facts. They also show that the tournament run by the Wiener Schachgesellschaft for its 1859/1860 season was organized on a grand scale and well publicized. In the fall of 1859 they embarked on a bold move to attract new members by announcing a “Free tournament” which anybody could enter, and a notice to this effect was published with a headline in the Fremden-Blatt on 11 November 1859: We believe that the numerous lovers of Chess … will be rendered no small service if we draw particular attention to the “Free Tournament” agreed by the Vienna Chess Club at its last General Assembly, which is to be held shortly and in which main and secondary prizes may be won without any entrance fee. Anyone wishing to learn more about the regulations of this competition, so far as we know, the only one in Vienna currently, or to join the club, should come to its premises, Goldschmiedgasse 1st floor (the Café Sauer) where (we will) willingly provide the information.—The Board of the Vienna Chess Club.65

The next “hit” in the ANNO database for the Wiener Schachgesellschaft is a report on 3 February 1860 in Der Zwischen-Akt, a journal, devoted primarily to the theater, which sometimes mentioned chess. This was also the earliest reference to Steinitz in the newspaper database. Essentially the same report appeared next day in Die Presse and on 5 February in the Graz Tagespost and in the Salzburger Zeitung on 10 February. The gist of the report is as follows. The prize-giving for the Free Tournament was held on 2 February 1860. The first prize was won by Hampe [sic] ahead of the student Steinitz. There were six prize-winners and the article states what they all won. Steinitz’s prize was an ornate chess table (kunstvoll gearbeiten Schachtisch), which he presumably sold before he left Vienna, if not much sooner. Third was Naschelsky, while the fourth prize was won by Sardotsch (known as a problem composer), fifth prize went to medical doctor Reiner and the sixth prize was won by Colonel Ritter von Werner.66 This tournament was also belatedly mentioned in the August number of the Schachzeitung, which was the first time that Steinitz’s name appeared in that magazine, or apparently in any publication outside Austria.67 Based on information sent in by the musician Willmers, the magazine gave fuller descriptions of the top prizes. Die Presse had just said Hamppe had won a large silver cup but Willmers was more specific that it was richly decorated with inscriptions and arabesques. The chess set Steinitz won was “ein elegant gearbeiteter Schachtisch nebst englischen Figuren.” This detail about the English chess pieces was not in the earlier report; it probably meant Staunton-style men, even an authentic Jaques set imported from England. Also, although by this time (if Landsberger is correct) Steinitz was

22

Steinitz in London

no longer enrolled at the Polytechnic Institute, he was nevertheless described here as a young technician: “einem jungen Techniker Namens Steinitz.” Thus we learn that the second tournament in which Steinitz played, and in which he indeed won second prize, was underway by mid– November 1859 and had finished at latest in the first few days of February. Steinitz’s win against Nowotny (probably Friedrich) was published in the 1860 Schachzeitung where it was explicitly said to have been played on 4 December 1859 (Game 7 below). Steinitz spent four winters in Vienna and played four local tournaments there, one for each season of the club, but only the second and fourth of these received publicity, while the third one has been almost forgotten. The tournament which the Illustrirte Zeitung, Pratt, Bachmann et al. described as that of 1860 was actually in the 1859/60 season and that which is usually designated 1861 did not, as will be shown further on, begin until December that year and was not finished until well into 1862. The customary narrative of increasing success by Steinitz has a hole in it. What happened in the club’s 1860/61 tournament has rarely been highlighted. During that winter season, Viennese chess players enjoyed the company of Harrwitz, a celebrated master from abroad. During Steinitz’s three and a half years’ residence in Vienna, Harrwitz was the only opponent he encountered who was at the time clearly his superior. None of the standard biographies and collections have anything to say about the two men meeting at this time, and their two surviving games only recently resurfaced after a century and a half hidden in the pages of an almost forgotten journal. At this point, a digression about Harrwitz is in order to provide some context. Harrwitz preferred match play and casual games, entering neither of the great London tournaments (1851 and 1862) although there was nothing to prevent his doing so. He had visited Vienna on several previous occasions but had spent most of the previous decade and a half living either in London (until the failure in 1854 of the British Chess Review) or in Paris, where he had for some years after the death of Kieseritzky been professional in residence at the Café de la Régence. It appears that Harrwitz became somewhat discouraged following his loss to Morphy in 1858, resigning that match prematurely. He also had the worse of a few games against Kolisch the following year. Nevertheless, although Harrwitz’s play may have been in decline, he was still a formidable opponent. By March 1860 Harrwitz was back in London, playing a match against Augustus Mongredien (1807–1888),68 and on 19 May he had been at Bradford as a special guest of the meeting of the West Yorkshire Chess Association.69 He remained in England until August or early September. The Era of 17 June says that the London Chess Club tried to arrange a match against Kolisch but Harrwitz “declined en-

Daniel Harrwitz was an early opponent who retired before Steinitz could get the better of him. (From The Chess-Monthly, XIII [April 1892].)

tering the lists with the young Hungarian.” The Illustrated London News of 23 June said the London club was offering a purse of 10 guineas and Staunton asked “why is it delayed?” On 29 July Bell’s Life published a win by Kolisch against Harrwitz, but that had been played in Paris during April 1859. It is not clear exactly when Harrwitz left England. Two games against French opponents in the I.L.N. of 18 August and 1 September had also probably been played months previously, because C.P.C. for 1861 (page 73) had a game between Harrwitz and “Delta” (the Rev. Donaldson from Scotland) said to have been played on 1 September 1860, presumably in London. Harrwitz’s decision to winter in Vienna may have been motivated in part by the fact that Kolisch was no longer there, so the city offered money-making opportunities. The Chronicle of October 1860 said that Harrwitz was en route to Vienna “where he intends to spend the winter.”70 This was repeated in Bell’s Life on 28 October in a reply to “Senex”

1. The Making of a Master, 1836–1862 but by then Harrwitz was already ensconced in Vienna. Der Zwischen-Akt reported the arrival of Harrwitz in Austria in its issue of 23 October (page 3). He soon came to an arrangement with a café proprietor named Schwarz. The article mentioned that Harrwitz intended to play “ohne Brett” but its claim that he was the strongest blindfold player in Europe was of dubious credibility. On 22 November Der Zwischen-Akt said that Harrwitz’s first exhibition would be held next Wednesday, the 28th. It said he already had eight engagements to play single or double games with opponents, while Schwarz had “arranged two salons in an extremely brilliant manner” with new wallpaper, lovely chandeliers and candelabra and elegant furniture.71 The two blindfold exhibitions Harrwitz gave in Vienna during December created considerable local interest although the number of his opponents on each occasion was far fewer than Morphy and others had met. Both times Harrwitz encountered three opponents and, judging from the long duration of the games mentioned in the press, he did not find this mode of play easy. Der Zwischen-Akt for 2 December said that Harrwitz’s first “Schachturnier” would be held at Schwarz’s salon the following Saturday, 8 December, and that “major bets have already been made” on the outcome of the fight against “this Hercules of the chessboard.” The first exhibition was indeed held at Café Schwarz on 8 December 1860, beginning at 4 p.m., but Steinitz was not one of Harrwitz’s opponents. There was a brief report two days later in Der Zwischen-Akt, which said there had been more than a hundred spectators who paid 1 florin entry fee each. These games were all published in the Vienna weekly paper Telegraf: Illustrirte Familienblätter on 16 December.72 Harrwitz defeated Leon Rosenzweig in 27 moves (after four and a half hours), then Porges after 36 moves and nine hours, but he was held to a draw by Brodé after 53 moves and 10½ hours. The chess-historical magazine Caissa has reprinted all these games. The Telegraf announced in its following number, for 23 December (column 2500), that the Vienna Chess Club had engaged Harrwitz to give a blindfold exhibition at its premises in the Café Sauer, on 30 December. Harrwitz would again play three games at the same time. Der Zwischen-Akt of 26 December also previewed this event, saying that a small number of tickets were available for non-members. On the 29th it said that his fee for the performance would be 50 florin and the entrance charge for spectators was again one florin. Although the Telegraf of 30 December promised to have information about the exhibition in their following number, they published nothing. Der Zwischen-Akt did carry a brief but useful report on 2 January 1861 which said that Harrwitz had won all three games, naming the opponents as Schlemm, “Nevertny” (probably Friedrich Nowotny), and Falkbeer (who must have been Nicolaus). All three were

23

senior members of the club. One game clearly played on that occasion was published the following month in the Illustrirte Zeitung, but the other two seem lost to posterity. Harrwitz’s opponent was designated as “St” but if Der Zwischen-Akt was correct, this cannot have been an abbreviation of “Steinitz.”73 The final reference to Harrwitz in the available Vienna journals was in the theater paper on 15 January 1861 and apparently referred to the conclusion of the club tournament, although this is not absolutely clear. Harrwitz defeated. The well-known chess player Harrwitz has found a worthy opponent here in Vienna, where he perhaps least expected it. He was beaten brilliantly by Mr. Karl Hampe [sic], Ministerial Secretary, in two games. Mr. Hampe’s play, distinguished by great calm, has earned the admiration of the connoisseurs.74

Der Zwischen-Akt did not mention any tournament, but an article by German chess historian Peter Anderberg for Caissa included two games won by Hamppe against Harrwitz which he found in the Leipzig Illustrirte Zeitung of 2 February and 2 March 1861. The first of these was introduced as follows: “…from the last round of a competition of 16 players organized by the Vienna Chess Club.”75 The second game had the same first sentence followed by: “This game earned the winner the first prize.” The better-known passage, from The Field of 29 July 1876, was more specific: In 1860 Herr Hampe [sic] defeated Herr Harrwitz in a match, seven games up,* with a score of 7 to 5. The two last games of the match were, by mutual consent of the players, reckoned as deciding games in a local tournament of the Viennese Chess Club, going one [sic] at the time, and Herr Hampe accordingly came out the first winner on the occasion, Herr Harrwitz the second, and Herr Steinitz, then a young player, third in the list.76

Widely available databases (such as Chessbase’s Mega Database 2017) imply that Harrwitz’s match with Hamppe, played at uncertain dates but probably mostly between November 1860 and January 1861, was won by Harrwitz, no doubt because the majority of previously known games were won by the German. In his first article for Caissa,77 Anderberg drew attention to the passage in The Field and also to another slightly different version, in the International Chess Magazine: “…within eighteen months after he met Morphy he [Harrwitz] lost a match against Hamppe in Vienna by a score of seven to five and some draws; and he also came out second to the Austrian master in the local Vienna tournament, after which he finally retired from the chess arena.”78 Anderberg also included in his article two games won by Harrwitz against Steinitz which were first published in the Telegraf on 14 January 1861, without (as he pointed out) any clarification about the occasion on which they were played. These are still the only two known games between *The expression “n games up” was a convenient shorthand term commonly used in Victorian sources in relation to the conditions of chess matches; n being the number of decisive games required for victory, draws not counting.

24

Steinitz in London

these masters; previously there were none in databases or printed Steinitz collections. He deduced on the basis of Steinitz’s testimony and the evidence from the Telegraf and the Illustrirte Zeitung, that the 1860/61 Vienna tournament was run as a knock-out tournament of 16 players, each pairing requiring two wins to progress and that the games between Harrwitz and Steinitz were from the semi-final. This is plausible, but further primary sources are needed if we are ever to be sure of what happened. Steinitz did in fact admit, in both his obituary notices of Hamppe in The Field and the London Figaro in 1876, that he had come in third behind Hamppe and Harrwitz, but did not say anything about the format of the tournament, who defeated him or who else played in it. Some references to Harrwitz’s visit to Vienna have been “hiding in plain sight” in English sources for a long time. In the Chess Player’s Chronicle for January 1861, in the apparently fictional “Horae Matutinae” dialogue on pages 1– 2, “The Professor” says: “The Telegraph, an illustrated family paper of Vienna, has lately devoted part of its space to Chess…. Three games played blindfold by Harrwitz.” Otherwise there do not appear to have been any contemporary reports in English, but three games did appear in print. A game he played against Jeney on 22 October 1860 was published in the Chess Players’ Chronicle and two of his games against Hamppe followed later in the same magazine.79 Nothing was said about the overall score between those two masters. Much later, in The Field of 6 October 1877, Steinitz annotated one of those games, which he said “affords an excellent example of the style of the time.”80 He wrongly believed that it was previously unpublished but it is good to have Steinitz’s superior notes. Interestingly, he stated the precise date when the game was played: 13 November 1860. This seems an indication, albeit not absolutely certain, that Steinitz had watched the game being played and that he kept some manuscript notebooks of games which he brought with him to London from Vienna. If so, this could account for how his famous brilliancy against Hamppe (Game 1) emerged much later, although it appears not to have been published around the time it was played or even for many years afterward.

The 1861–1862 Tournament The frequently published statement that Steinitz carried off the first prize in 1861 is inaccurate since the tournament began only in December and was not concluded until April 1862. Like the one in 1859/60, it was announced as a free tournament. The first report, in Die Presse on 9 November, said: “Chess. The Wiener Schachgesellschaft organizes a free tournament for its members in the course of December,

during which the significant number of prizes offers even the less strong players the opportunity to win one.” This was followed soon afterwards by a definite invitation to enter, placed in the same paper by the club committee. It was dated 16 November and appeared in Die Presse on the 18th: Since the Vienna Chess Club’s Free Tournament, in which one quarter of the players will win a prize, opens on December 1, 1861, and as each [competitor] measures himself with every other one, a lively, interesting struggle will develop over the winter. Vienna chess lovers are politely invited to participate in this enjoyable event by joining the society. Registration for the tournament is open until 1 January 1862; the tournament will end on 28 February 1862. Further information [is available] at the chess venue, Goldschmiedgasse, Café Sauer.

The announcement was signed “by the committee of the Vienna Chess Club.” This implies that, while existing club members could start play in early December, the entries would remain open until the New Year. It was not finished by the end of February, probably because there were more than 30 competitors and any drawn games had to be replayed. No more was said in Die Presse about this tournament but reports did appear in the chess column of a new weekly family paper, Waldheim’s Illustrirte Zeitung, which began publication on 1 January 1862. On 5 April Waldheim’s announced that Steinitz had already won the tournament, although it was not yet finished. Its first report included the following: From the Vienna Chess Club (Café Sauer). Thirty-one members of the Vienna Chess Club entered this year’s tournament. Each competitor had to play one game against each other, draws not counting. The first prize, a valuable Reise-necessaire, was won by Mr. Wilhelm Steinitz. There is talk of sending this excellent chess player from the Vienna Club to the international Chess congress in London….81

So Steinitz had 30 opponents; if he played 34 games (as said later), losing one, there must have been three draws that he replayed. It was not said who defeated him. Steinitz’s win against “Herr L.” (later reprinted in the Schachzeitung) was included with this article. Second in the tournament was Eduard Pilhol [sic] who had defeated 28 opponents and lost to three. His prize was said to be an elegant small cigar-box. The other six prizes were not yet decided, because several players had the same score and ties had to be played off. In a final report three weeks later, along with Steinitz’s win against Friedrich Nowotny, it was stated that the third and fourth prizes had been decided in favor of Jeney and Pitschel. The lesser prize-winners were not named. Hamppe is never mentioned in connection with this tournament. The final report about the 1861/2 Freiturnier, which was published in Waldheim’s on 26 April, concerned a general meeting of the Vienna Chess Club held on 2 April whose main purpose was to decide who, if anyone, the club would send as its official representative to the London Chess Con-

1. The Making of a Master, 1836–1862

25

Ernst Falkbeer (center) at the chess meeting in Leamington Spa, 28 June 1855. Also in the picture are (from left): J. J. Löwenthal, Jules Arnous de Rivière, Marmaduke Wyvill M.P., Howard Staunton, Lord George William Lyttelton, and Captain Hugh Alexander Kennedy. (Engraving from a photograph by Rosario Aspa, in the I.L.N., XXVII [14 July 1855] page 59.)

gress. An invitation to that congress had been received earlier in the year, but only after the tournament had begun, so the original purpose of the competition was not to decide the club’s delegate. On the other hand, the nature of the prize given to the winner (which may have been decided before it became clear that Steinitz would be victorious) does seem to imply an intention to send the winner to London. Ehn, in his “Young Steinitz” article for Karl magazine and his subsequent book, said that on the basis of this victory, Steinitz was the representative of the club.82 This has often been written, and although it was not the case, that was even the impression in London at first. Both The Standard and the Daily News reported as early as 11 April that “Herr Wilhelm Steinitz, the winner at the late Vienna chess tournament, has been elected to represent the Austrian clubs at the London General Congress of Chess Players.” Other papers subsequently copied this verbatim or with slight wording changes, including The Field on 19 April 1862. Perhaps its chess editor, Samuel Standidge Boden (1826–1882), jumped to conclusions when informed that Steinitz would be coming to London. The chief tournament organizer, Löwenthal, received information to the contrary, probably from Heinrich Landesmann, his opposite number on Waldheim’s. In his own column in The Era on 27 April, Löwenthal’s first item was a reply to a correspondent saying: Our contemporary, the Daily News, must have been misinformed in stating that Mr. Steinitz will be sent as a delegate by the Chess players of Vienna to the forthcoming Congress. We have reason to know that Mr. Steinitz will only visit this country in his private capacity, and not as the representative of the Vienna Chess Club.

That report in the 26 April issue of Waldheim’s implies that there must have been some heated discussion among the club members at the 2 April meeting, probably with one faction supportive of Steinitz, and the decision was not unanimous. Steinitz would not be representing the club but just himself. The General Meeting that was held by the Vienna Chess Club on April 2nd has reportedly decided by a majority of votes, to delegate none of their members to the chess congress in London. Mr. Wilhelm Steinitz, winner of the most recent tournament of this club, the only person who could have been granted the mandate, will undertake the journey through private means and participate in the congress only in his personal interest … [the meeting also declined to give the mandate to Ernst Falkbeer] … for reasons that are more clear than those for the first decision, as the candidate is not a member of the club, and since he has been for seven years completely disconnected from Viennese chess life. It is only most regrettable … that in a chess congress in which representatives from all nations will enter, only Austria remains unrepresented.

Some light was thrown on this matter four years later, when the Neue Freie Presse reported on Steinitz’s 1866 match victory over Anderssen. A translation of the relevant passage is as follows: Wilhelm Steinitz was a member of the local chess club in 1862. Already then, he attracted attention by his ingenious play and won several prizes. When, at the time of the London World Exhibition, the London Chess Club organized a big chess tournament, the Vienna Chess Club was invited to send one of its members to participate in the battle. Steinitz would normally have been the worthiest representative, but there was an issue. The club took offense at Steinitz’s not very charming appearance (!), considered him unsuitable to represent the Vienna Chess Club appropriately, and thus they forbore to send anyone to the London congress.83

The same article in the Neue Freie Presse continued:

26

Steinitz in London

Steinitz searched and found the means to go to London on his own account, and the President of the chess association there [i.e., Mongredien] soon took the opportunity to introduce him to the club as one of the most brilliant fighters. Steinitz participated in the tournament and won a prize. From this moment onwards his reputation as chess player had been established. “Either you will not hear anything from me any more or I will be the first chess player of Europe within a few years,” we heard Steinitz saying to one of his friends when leaving Vienna. Well, his brave dreams have become reality.84

Ehn has identified the man who, in the absence of official support from the club, financed Steinitz’s visit to London. He was Eduard Freiherr von Todesco (1816–1887), a banker and philanthropist.85 Ehn quotes, and Landsberger paraphrases, a crucial paragraph from the 1925 Schachrundschau article in which this benefactor is named, though slightly differently, and another well-known anecdote is also told. The source of this information is unclear because in the Schachrundschau, the whole paragraph appears between quotation marks, without saying who is being quoted. A wealthy banker named Tedesco, a patron of the arts and advocate of knowledge, gave him the necessary money to travel to London. Steinitz stated that he would not only participate in the tournament, but also make his permanent residence in London. To the objection that he understood no English, he answered that within just four weeks he would learn it. Then he actually stayed invisible for four weeks, and when he appeared again in the chess club, he spoke English fluently.86

The Games in Vienna As explained in the Preface, the number of known Steinitz games from his Viennese period could until the 1920s be counted on the fingers of one hand. Even with the latest discoveries, barely 40 game scores (including fragments) survive from the three and a half years he spent in the Austrian capital. All these are presented here, with source information and occasional light notes, but in most cases the dates they were played are unknown, or only approximately known. Bachmann preserved the notes that were in the original manuscript, apart from, he said in his second edition, “various necessary changes.” He assumed that some variations in the manuscript were the result of analysis immediately after the games, which Rumler had also noted down. The recently republished games, unknown to Bachmann, were discovered in the Telegraf and Waldheim’s independently by several scholars and presented to the world once more by Anderberg in the latter’s second article for Caissa.87 The general introductory comments that Bachmann made are also valid for the newly-found games. They come, as he said, from the “Sturm-und-Drang” period of the future world champion’s career with bold sacrifices, often against weak opponents. Since most of them were not match

games, and often played at odds, harsh judgment is inappropriate. Nevertheless some of the games are interesting and contain surprising twists of fortune. Throughout this book, where a game appears in Schachmeister Steinitz, its Bachmann number is stated as well as the earliest source(s) that this author has been able to discover. Those games which are described below as “Bachmann extra,” with a number, are from the appendix to the first volume (1925) of the second edition of Schachmeister Steinitz, having been found in the Rumler manuscript. The games with no Bachmann number are those which have only been rediscovered in recent times or which (in some cases) were simply overlooked by him. The first game below is, however, a curious exception. It is the best known of Steinitz’s early games yet its earliest publication has not been traced, unless it was by Ludwig Bachmann himself in 1895, in volume 4 of his Geistreiche Schachpartien. He included it there without notes, just saying Vienna 1859. Subsequently it was one of the few games from Steinitz’s Vienna period to be included in the first (1910) edition of Schachmeister Steinitz, where it was indeed the first game. The opening variation is certainly one that Hamppe is known to have played and the brilliant finish is typical of early Steinitz. Bachmann said in his second edition that this was the one game in the Rumler manuscript book that he already knew, so it enabled him to confirm the authenticity of that set of games. He must have been convinced that the game score itself was authentic but he did not say (and it still remains unclear) how he had originally obtained the game. Probably it had been published in a source untraced by us, or else he had been given it by Steinitz personally. The fact that it was not in one of the earlier volumes of the Geistreiche series of brilliancies suggests that Bachmann had only recently obtained the score. Subsequently this became the best-known of Steinitz’s early games and was one of those that Lasker (in his 1927 Manual of Chess) considered significant, as an example of Steinitz’s youthful combinational style. It has also been analyzed in Neishtadt’s book on Steinitz, First World Champion,88 and is game 1 in Pritchett’s Steinitz Move by Move.89

1. C. Hamppe–Steinitz Vienna, 1859 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 1), from Geistreiche Schachpartien IV (1895), game 452, page 49.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d5 4. exd5 N×d5 5. f×e5 Lasker wrote that 5.  N×d5 Q×d5 6.  f×e5 would have been considered dull, but 6. … Nc6 7. Nf3 Bg4 8. Be2 N×e5= was a note in the fifth (1874) edition on page 308 of the Handbuch des Schachspiels. The same book mentioned that 4. … d4 had been seen in a game Hamppe–Pitschel, played in Vienna around the same time (D.S.Z. 1860, page 54). 5. … N×c3 In

1. The Making of a Master, 1836–1862 his 1876 Field obituary paragraph, Steinitz wrote that 5. … Qh4† (an idea of “the late Dr. Novotny”) put this line out of business, but it is unclear to which Nowotny he referred.90 Pritchett says that move leads to a favorable endgame for White after 6. g3 N×c3 7. g×h4 N×d1 8. K×d1 as in some recent games, e.g., Ponkratov–Yemelin, St. Petersburg (Botvinnik—100 tournament) 2011. 6. b×c3 Qh4† 7. Ke2 In that same paragraph about Hamppe, Steinitz credited this variation with its early king sortie as his inspiration for the Steinitz Gambit, but he did not mention the present game. 7. … Bg4† 8. Nf3 Nc6 9. d4 9. Qe1 has been played in recent times. 9. … 0–0–0 10. Bd2? 10. Qe1 was still correct says Pritchett. 10. … B×f3† 10. … R×d4! 11. c×d4 N×d4† wins for Black (Pritchett). 11. g×f3 N×e5 Pritchett suggested 11. … N×d4†!? 12. c×d4 Q×d4. 12. d×e5? “Such an idea as 12. Qe1 would have been considered shameful” wrote Lasker. It is also mentioned in the Neishtadt book and analyzed by Pritchett. 12. … Bc5 13. Qe1 Qc4† 14. Kd1 Q×c3 15. Rb1 Q×f3† 16. Qe2 R×d2†! 17. K×d2 Rd8† 18. Kc1 Ba3† 19. Rb2

27

Qc3 20. Bh3† Kb8 21. Qb5 Qd2† 22. Kb1 Qd1† 23. R×d1 R×d1 mate (0–1).

2. Lenhof–Steinitz Casual game, Vienna, 20 August 1859 Bishop’s Opening (C23) Bachmann extra—1

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 f5 3. d3 Nf6 4. Nf3 d5 5. exd5 Bd6 6. 0–0 0–0 7. Nc3 a6 8. a4 h6 9. d4 e4 10. Ne5 Nbd7 11. N×d7 B×d7 12. f3 Qe8 13. f×e4 f×e4 14. Bf4 Qg6 15. B×d6 c×d6 16. Qe2 Rae8 17. Rf4 Re7 18. Re1 Rfe8 19. Qf2 Nh5 20. Rh4 Rf7 21. Qd2 Nf6 22. h3 Qg5 23. Qf4 Nh7 24. Q×g5 N×g5 25. Rf1 Rfe7 26. Rhf4 e3 27. Re1 B×h3 28. Bd3 Bd7 29. b3 Nh7 30. Nd1 Nf6 31. c4 Ng4 32. Rf3 Nf2 33. Bg6 N×d1 34. B×e8 R×e8 35. R×d1 Bg4 36. Re1 B×f3 37. g×f3 Kf7 38. c5 d×c5 39. d×c5 Re5 40. c6 b×c6 41. d×c6 Ke6 42. Kf1 e2† 43. R×e2 R×e2 44. K×e2 a5 45. f4 g6 0–1

3. Steinitz–Lenhof Casual game, Vienna, 20 August 1859 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann extra—2

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d6 8. Qb3 Qd7 9. c×d4 Bb6 10. Bb5 a6 11. Ba4 Ba7 12.  d5 b5 13.  d×c6 Q×c6 14.  Qb2 Nf6 15.  Bc2 0–0 16. Nc3 Re8 17. Bg5 Ng4 18. Nd5 Qd7 19. h3 Ne5 20. N×e5 d×e5 21. Kh2 c6 22. Nc3 Bb8 23. Bb3 Bb7 24. Rad1 Qc7 25. f4 c5 26. Nd5 B×d5 27. B×d5 Ra7 28. f5 h6 29. Qd2 Kh7 30. f6 Qd6 31. Qe2 Qb6 32. Qh5 1–0

4. Steinitz–Dr. P. Meitner Casual game, Vienna, October 1859 Evans Gambit (C52) Annotated in Bachmann extra—12

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d×c3 8. e5 Bb4 9. Qb3 Qe7 10. Bg5 Qf8 11. N×c3 B×c3 12. Q×c3 h6 13. Bh4 Nge7 14. Rad1 g5 15. Bg3 Qg7 16. Rfe1 h5 17. h4 g×h4 18. N×h4 Rg8 19. Qf3 Na5 (see diagram) This is test position 985 in The Woodpecker Method by Axel Smith and Kari Tikkanen: one of only five from Steinitz games in the Advanced Exercise category.

After 19. … Na5 Dr. Philipp Meitner, a life-long friend and opponent of Steinitz, photographed in 1872 by Adèle. This is probably the picture referred to in Steinitz’s well-known letter to G. B. Fraser in 1877. (Cleveland Public Library Digital Gallery.)

rDbDkDrD 0p0php1w wDwDwDwD hwDw)wDp wDBDwDwH DwDwDQGw PDwDw)PD DwDR$wIw

28

Steinitz in London

20. e6! f×e6? After 20. … N×c4 the easiest win is 21. e×f7† (Bachmann’s 21. Nf5 also suffices.) 21. … Q×f7 22. Nf5 according to Smith and Tikkanen. The best defense is 20. … d×e6 when the line in the old notes began 21. B×c7 Nac6 22. Qd3 but Smith and Tikkanen give 21. Bb5† as more convincing. 21.  Q×h5† Ng6 22.  N×g6 Q×g6 23.  Q×a5 b6 24. Qe5 d6 25. R×d6 c×d6 26. Q×d6 Kf7 27. Qc7† Kf6 28. Bh4† Kf5? This allows mate in six; 28. … Qg5 should have been tried. 29. Qe5† Kg4 30. Re4† Q×e4 31. Q×e4† Kh5 32. Qh7† Kg4 33. f3† Kf4 34. Qe4 mate (1–0).

5. E. Pilhal–Steinitz Casual game, Vienna, 9 October 1859 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann extra—3

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. c3 Nf6 5. d4 e×d4 6. e5 d5 7. Bb5 Ne4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. 0–0 0–0 10. B×c6 b×c6 11. Be3 Bg4 12. Qc1 f5 13. Q×c6 B×f3 14. g×f3 f4 15. Bc1 Ng5 16. Kg2 B×d4 17.  Re1 Rf5 18.  e6 Ne4 19.  f×e4 Qh4 20.  Rf1 f3† 21. Kh1 Be5 0–1

6. C. Hamppe–Steinitz Casual game, Vienna, 13 October 1859 King’s Gambit (C38) Bachmann extra—4; from the Österreichische Schachrundschau, IV (January 1925) page 5.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. 0–0 h6 6. d3 d6 7. g3 g4 8. B×f4 g×f3 9. Q×f3 Qe7 10. Nc3 Be6 11. Nd5 Qd7 12. Rae1 Nc6 13. c3 0–0–0 14. a4 Nge7 15. d4 h5 16. b4 h4 17. a5 h×g3 18. B×g3 Rdg8 19. Ra1 B×d5 20. e×d5 Qh3 21. d×c6 B×d4† 22. Kh1 R×g3 23. c×b7† Kb8 24. Qe2 Be5 25. Rf2 Nf5 26. Qf1 Rg1† 27. K×g1 B×h2† 28. Kh1 Ng3 mate (0–1).

7. Steinitz–(Dr. F?) Nowotny Vienna Chess Club Free Tournament, 4 December 1859 Max Lange Attack (C55) Bachmann (game 2) dated this game incorrectly, saying it was “played in the Vienna Chess Club tournament on 4 December 1860.” It was played precisely one year earlier, since the primary source, the Schachzeitung of August 1860 (page 282) explicitly assigned it to the previous year: “Gespielt im Wiener Frei-Turnier, am 4. December v. J. [vorige Jahre].” This is the only surviving game by Steinitz that is known for certain to have been played in that tournament and one of the few Steinitz games from Vienna that Bachmann included in his first edition.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. Bc4 Bc5 5. 0–0 Nf6 6. e5 d5 7. e×f6 d×c4 8. Re1† Kf8 9. Bg5 Qd6 10. Nbd2 Bf5 11. Nh4 Bg6 12. Qf3 Ne5 13. Qh3 c3 14. b×c3 d×c3 15. N×g6† f×g6 16. Ne4 Qd5 17. f×g7† K×g7 18. Bf6† Kf7 19. Qh6 B×f2† 20. N×f2 K×f6 21. Qf4† Ke6 22. Ng4 Qc5† 23. Kh1 Kd7 24. Rad1† Kc8 25. R×e5 Rf8 26. Qe4 Qc6 27. Red5 b6 28. Ne5 Re8 29. Rd8† R×d8 30. R×d8† K×d8 31. Q×c6 1–0

8. Steinitz–E. Pilhal Vienna Chess Club, 1860 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann (game 5): this was another of the few games from Vienna in the first edition but it was also wrongly dated (as 1862). The earliest publication was in the Telegraf, I:32 (5 August 1860, on column 1527), with the players identified as “Herr Wilhelm Steinitz” versus “Herr P.” Steinitz apparently had kept a copy, or rediscovered it, because on 29 August 1884 the New York newspaper Turf, Field and Farm introduced it as follows: “We are indebted to Mr. Steinitz for the subjoined elegant little game (hitherto unpublished) which was played in the Vienna Chess Club in the year 1860.” Subsequently it was reprinted in The Chess Player’s Chronicle on 8 October 1884, and I.S.D.N. on 24 November 1888 (with the same notes). The game also appeared later in B.C.M. XVIII (1898, page 70), in an article by “Hobart” about the Evans Gambit, which appears to have been the origin of the incorrect 6. 0–0 move order seen in Bachmann. That incorrect move order has been copied by subsequent sources including Pickard and ChessBase, and ChessBase also has an incorrect finish.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 This is the authentic move sequence. 6. … e×d4 7. 0–0 Nf6 8.  Ba3 This move had been played by Morphy in 1858. Steinitz, unlike his opponent, was evidently acquainted with an analysis of 8.  Ba3 which had been published by Carl Friedrich Berthold Suhle (1837–1904) in the Schachzeitung the following year.91 8. … d6 Suhle showed that 8. … N×e4 could be met by 9. Qb3 and if 9. … Nd6 10. B×f7†. 9. e5 d×e5?? This is easily refuted; Suhle had examined various knight moves. His analysis of 9. … d5 10. Bb5 was skimpy in the first article but more detailed in the second (October) part. Curiously, Suhle never mentioned Morphy but possibly Steinitz knew of Morphy’s 1859 blindfold game against Greenaway in that line. 10. Qb3 Qd7 11. Re1 Qf5 11. … e4 is also hopeless: 12. Nbd2 B×c3 13. N×e4 B×e1 14. R×e1 Kd8 15. Neg5 Na5 16. Ne5 was a queen sacrifice shown by “Hobart.” After 16. … N×b3 White mates in four moves. 12. Bb5! The Telegraf said this was better than 12. B×f7† (which would be a losing blunder). Turf, Field and Farm said that “We believe that on examination this will be found to be the most forcible method of continuing the attack,” but computers show 12. N×e5 is also decisive. 12. … Nd7 13. Qd5! Threatening, as the Telegraf pointed out, to win a piece by 14. B×c6 and 15. Q×a5. 13. … B×c3 ChessBase Mega Database 2017 has a different finish for which no primary source has been found, viz., 13. … Bb6 14. N×e5 Ne7 15. N×d7! Q×d5 16. Nf6† Kd8 17. B×e7 mate. 14. N×c3 d×c3 15. N×e5 Ne7 16. N×d7 T.F.F.: “Bringing about a charming termination. It is worthy of note that after the text move it is impossible for Black to save the Queen, even had he seen and guarded against the beautiful little mate, which is now administered by Mr. Steinitz.” 16. … Q×d5 17. Nf6† Kd8 18. B×e7 mate (1–0).

1. The Making of a Master, 1836–1862

9. R. Strauss–Steinitz Casual game, Vienna, 16 January 1860 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann extra—7

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. Ba3 Bg4 10. e5 d×e5 11. Qb3 Qd7 12. N×e5 N×e5 13. d×e5 Be6 14. B×e6 Q×e6 15. Qb4 0–0–0 16. Nc3 Q×e5 17. Rae1 Qd4 18. Qb3 Nh6 19. Nb5 Qh4 20. Be7 Qf4 21. B×d8 R×d8 22. h3 Rd2 23. Rc1 R×f2 24. R×c7† B×c7 25. R×f2 Qc1† 26. Rf1 Bb6† 27. Kh2 Q×f1 28. Qc3† Kd7 29. Qd2† Kc6 30. a4 Qg1† 31. Kg3 Qe3† 0–1

10. Steinitz–R. Strauss Casual game, Vienna, 16 January 1860 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann extra—8

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d5 4. e×d5 e×f4 5. Bc4 Bg4 6. Nf3 Qe7† 7. Qe2 B×f3 8. g×f3 Nbd7 9. d4 0–0–0 10. B×f4 Qb4 11. 0–0–0 Nb6 12. Bb3 Nf×d5 13. N×d5 N×d5 14. B×d5 R×d5 15. Qe8† Rd8 16. Q×f7 Bd6 17. B×d6 R×d6 18. Q×g7 Rhd8 19. c3 Qa4 20. Kb1 Ra6 21. Qf7 Rd7 22. Qe8† Rd8 23. Q×a4 R×a4 24. Rde1 Ra6 25. Re7 Rf8 26. R×h7 R×f3 27. Rg1 b5 28. Rgg7 Rc6 29. h4 b4 30. d5 Rc5 31. d6 Re5 32. d7† Kb7 33. d8Q 1–0

11. Steinitz–Dr. P. Meitner Casual game, Vienna, February 1860 Max Lange Attack (C55) Bachmann extra—11. This game was originally published in the chess column of Telegraf, II:5 (4 February 1861, column 237) as game 36, naming the players as “Herr W. Steinitz” versus “Herr R.” The opponent was identified in Bachmann’s second edition, where he also provided the information from the manuscript book that the game was played in February 1860. Since we know Steinitz’s opponent was Meitner, this implies that not much credence should be given to the initials that the Viennese chess editor assigned to anonymous players.92 This game is also in Neishtadt pages 17–21 and is game 84 in Linder & Linder, pages 161–162.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. Bc4 Bc5 5. 0–0 Nf6 6. e5 d5 7. e×f6 d×c4 8. Re1† Be6 9. Ng5 Qd5 10. Nc3 Qf5 11. g4 Q×f6 12. Nd5 Qd8 13. R×e6† f×e6 14. N×e6 Qd7 15. Qe2 Be7 16. Nd×c7† Kf7 17. Q×c4 Ne5 18. Qb3 Qd6 19. f4 N×g4 20. Ng5† Kg6 21. Qd3† Kh5 22. Qh3† Kg6 23. Q×g4 Qb6 24. Nge6† Kf6 25. Qg5† Kf7 26. Q×g7 mate (1–0).

12. Steinitz–Lang Casual game, Vienna, 5 February 1860 King’s Gambit (C37) Bachmann extra—13; as mentioned above, the loser of this and other Lang games was not the famous master Dr. Max Lange.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Nc6 5. d4 g4 6. c3 g×f3

29

7.  0–0 f×g2 8.  B×f7† K×f7 9.  Qh5† Ke7 10.  R×f4 Nh6 11.  R×f8 Q×f8 12.  Bg5† Ke6 13.  d5† Kd6 14.  Nd2 Kc5 15. Be3† Kb5 16. Qe2† Ka5 17. Nb3† Ka4 18. Qc4† Nb4 19. Nc5† 1–0

13. Steinitz–Reiner Casual game, Vienna, 25 February 1860 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann extra—16

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. 0–0 d6 5. b4 B×b4 6. c3 Bc5 7.  d4 e×d4 8.  c×d4 Bb6 9.  d5 Ne5 10.  N×e5 d×e5 11. Bb2 f6 12. Kh1 Nh6 13. Qh5† 13. f4 was later played in Game 19 between the same opponents. 13. … Nf7 14. f4 g6 15.  Qe2 Bc5 16.  f×e5 N×e5 17.  B×e5 f×e5 18.  d6 Q×d6 19. Bf7† Kd8 20. Nc3 Bd4 21. Nb5 Qd7 22. N×d4 e×d4 23. e5 c5 24. Rf6 Kc7 25. Rc1 b6 26. Bc4 Kb8 27. Rf7 Qc6 28. e6 Qd6 29. Ba6 B×a6 30. Q×a6 Qc6 31. R×c5 Qe4 32. Rc1 1–0

14. Steinitz–Lang Casual game, Vienna, 26 March 1860 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann extra—15

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 Bc5 4. f×e5 B×g1 5. R×g1 Qh4† 6. g3 Q×h2 7. Rg2 Qh6 8. d4 Qg6 9. Bf4 Nh6 10. Bd3 b5 11. Qf3 0–0 12. 0–0–0 f6 13. e×f6 Q×f6 14. e5 Qe6 15. Rh1 Na5 16. Qe4 Nf5 17. g4 d5 18. Q×f5 R×f5 19. g×f5 Qf7 20. e6 B×e6 21. Be5 g6 22. f×g6 Qf3 23. g×h7† Kf8 24. h8Q† Ke7 25. Rg7† Bf7 26. R×f7† K×f7 27. Qg7† Ke6 28. Rh6† Qf6 29. R×f6 mate (1–0).

15. Steinitz–R. Strauss Casual game, Vienna, April 1860 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann extra—9

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d×c3 8. Qb3 Qe7 9. Ba3 d6 10. N×c3 B×c3 11. Q×c3 Ne5 12. N×e5 Q×e5 13. Qc2 Nf6 14. Bb2 Qc5 15. e5 Nd5 16. e×d6 c×d6 17. Qe4† Be6 18. Rad1 Nc7 19. B×e6 N×e6 20. B×g7 Rg8 21. Q×h7 Ke7 22. Rfe1 Qg5 23. R×e6† K×e6 24. Qe4† Kd7 25. Q×b7† Ke6 26. Re1† Kf5 27. Q×f7† Kg4 28. Qf3† Kh4 29. Qh3 mate (1–0).

16. Steinitz–A? Deutsch Queen’s knight odds, Vienna, April 1860 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann extra—10; first published with notes in the Österreichische Schachrundschau, IV (January 1925) pages 4–5, saying the game was played in Vienna during April 1860. It was at first not stated that this game was played at odds, but that was corrected in the next issue (page 58). This game is not in Pickard’s book but was in his database as number

30

Steinitz in London

38. His attribution of the game to a Samuel Martin Deutsch is doubtful, as discussed in note 47 to this chapter.

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Bc5 3. b4 B×b4 4. f4 d6 5. Nf3 Bg4 6. f×e5 B×f3 7. Q×f3 Qe7 8. Qb3 Bc5 9. Q×b7 c6 10. Q×a8 Qc7 11. e×d6 B×d6 12. Bb2 Ne7 13. 0–0 0–0 14. Rf3 Nd7 15. Raf1 Nf6 16. R×f6 g×f6 17. B×f7† Kg7 18. B×f6† K×f7 19. B×e7† K×e7 20. Q×f8† Ke6 21. Qf5† Ke7 22. Q×h7† Ke6 23. Qg6† 1–0

17. Steinitz–C. Hamppe Casual game, Vienna, 4 April 1860 Philidor Defense (C41) Bachmann extra—5

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 d6 3. d4 e×d4 4. Bc4 Nc6 5. N×d4 Be7 6. c3 Bf6 7. N×c6 b×c6 8. f4 Bh4† 9. g3 Bf6 10. 0–0 Ne7 11. Bd3 0–0 12. Be3 Ng6 13. Nd2 Be7 14. Qh5 Qd7 15. f5 Ne5 16. Bc2 Ba6 17. c4 B×c4 18. N×c4 N×c4 19. f6 N×e3 20.  e5 h6 21.  Rf5 d×e5 22.  f×e7 g6 23.  e×f8Q† R×f8 24. R×f7 R×f7 25. Q×g6† Rg7 26. Bb3† Nd5 27. Q×h6 … (1–0?). Bachmann notes that the manuscript said the conclusion of this game was “not recorded,” but White had a decisive advantage at the end. There must be doubt whether the score is correct after move 18 because Black could have played, for example, 21. … N×c2.

18. Steinitz–Lang Casual game, Vienna, 15 April 1860 Scotch Gambit (C44) Bachmann extra—14; originally published with notes in the Österreichische Schachrundschau, IV (January 1925) pages 3–4, giving the precise date. It said the game was played at QN odds, but that was corrected in the next issue (page 58).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. Bc4 Qe7 5. 0–0 Ne5 6. N×e5 Q×e5 7. c3 c5 8. f4 Qf6 9. e5 Qb6 10. Kh1 Be7 11. f5 d5 12. B×d5 Nh6 13. f6 Bf8 14. B×h6 g×h6 15. B×f7† K×f7 16. Qh5† Ke6 17. Qe8† Kd5 18. c×d4 Be6 19. Nc3† Kc4 20. d5 R×e8 21. Rf4† Kd3 22. Rd1† Kc2 23. Rf2 mate (1–0).

19. Steinitz–Reiner Casual game, Vienna, 29 April 1860 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann, 2d edition, volume 1, page 376, in a note to extra game 16.

Defense to the Scotch Gambit. The source seen by Bachmann said it was played in April (so possibly in the same sitting as the previous game on 29 April).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. Bc4 Bc5 5. 0–0 d6 6. c3 Bg4 7. Qb3 B×f3 8. B×f7† Not 8. Q×b7? Na5 9. Qb5† c6 (Neishtadt). 8. … Kf8 9. B×g8? Correct was 9. g×f3 which Neishtadt said is best met by 9. … Nf6 (but not 9. … Na5? 10. Qe6, or 9. … g5? 10. Bh5 he said). Also 9. … Bb6 (Euwe) is playable, but 9. … Ne5?! 10. c×d4 B×d4 11. B×g8 R×g8 12. f4 Nf7 13. Qd3 was good for White in a Charousek–Maróczy, Budapest 1895 game. 9. … R×g8 10. g×f3 g5 11. Qe6 Bachmann noted that one of the games played that year between Kolisch and Anderssen (in Paris) continued 11. Qd1 Qd7 12. b4 Bb6 13. Bb2 d3! 14. Q×d3 Ne5 15. Qe2 Qh3 16. Nd2 g4! 0–1. 11. … Ne5 12. Qf5† Kg7 13. Kh1 Taking the g-pawn would be bad: 13.  Q×g5† Kh8 14.  f4 Nf3† 15.  Kh1 N×g5 (Bachmann) or 13. B×g5 Kh8 14. f4 Nf3† 15. Kh1 N×g5 16. f×g5 R×g5 (Neishtadt). Bachmann also had a garbled note which should have read 13. h4 h6 14. h×g5 Kh8 (This move pair was omitted.) 15. f4 Nf3† 16. Kh1 h×g5 17. f×g5 d×c3 18. b×c3 N×g5 19. B×g5 R×g5 20. Qh3† Kg7. 13. … Kh8 14. Rg1 g4 15. f4 Nf3 16. R×g4 Qh4! “Steinitz’s finish is brilliant,” observed Bachmann; now if 17. Kg2 there would follow 17. … d×c3 18. N×c3 Q×f2† 19. Kh3 Q×h2 mate. 17. Rg2 Q×h2† 18. R×h2 Rg1 mate (0–1). Some fragmentary game finishes by the early Steinitz are also known, the earliest versions of which were published in the Telegraf in the summer of 1860, so they had probably been played a short time previously. Bachmann apparently found them in the Schachzeitung.

21. Steinitz–Amateur Vienna 1860: White to play and win. See diagram First published in the Telegraf, I:31 (29 July 1860, column 1479) as “Problem No. 9, Endgame by Herr Wilhelm Steinitz.” The Telegraf published the solution two weeks later (column 1576). It was next seen in The Chess Player’s Chronicle (June 1862, position 261 on page 191): “End Game from actual play, by Herr Steinitz,” with the solution on page 222. The White king was on e7 instead of e6. That version was copied in the Schachzeitung for July/August 1862 (page 247), also with the king on e7, and in that form it was included in Bachmann as number 41.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. 0–0 d6 5. b4 B×b4 6. c3 Bc5 7.  d4 e×d4 8.  c×d4 Bb6 9.  d5 Ne5 10.  N×e5 d×e5 11. Bb2 f6 12. Kh1 Nh6 13. f4 Nf7 14. f×e5 f×e5 15. R×f7 K×f7 16. Qh5† Kf8 17. d6 Qd7 18. Nc3 g6 19. Q×e5 1–0

20. Reiner–Steinitz Casual game, Vienna, April 1860 Scotch Gambit (C44) Bachmann extra—17; first published in the Telegraf, I:52 (24 December 1860, column 2499), game 29: “Herr R” versus Herr W. Steinitz, calling the opening the new Anderssen

White to move

wDwDwDkD DwDwDwDw wDwDKDP) DwDwDwDw wDwDwDwG DwDwDwDw wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDr

1. The Making of a Master, 1836–1862

31

The solution is the same whether the king starts on e6 or e7: 1. h7† Kg7 2. h8Q† K×h8 3. Kf7 Rf1† 4. Bf6† R×f6† 5. K×f6 Kg8 6. g7 Kh7 7. Kf7 and the pawn must queen (1–0).

sub-variation in the solution: 1. Rd8† Q×d8 (or 1. … Kh7 2.  R×h6†! g×h6 3.  Qe7† Kg6 4.  h5 mate) 2.  Qe6† Kh7 3. R×h6† g×h6 4. Qf7 mate (1–0). D.S.Z. only published the solution in volume XXI (January 1866, on page 23).

22a. Steinitz–Amateur

23. Steinitz–Amateur

Vienna 1860: White to play and win. See diagram There are three versions of this combination in primary sources. The diagram below shows the original, which appeared in Telegraf, I:34 (19 August 1860, on column 1624) as “Problem No. 16. Endgame by Herr Wilhelm Steinitz.” In The Field, 11 October 1862, page 339, it was “Problem No. 228. A very pretty end-game, from actual play, by Herr Steinitz.” But with a small difference (not requiring a diagram and not affecting the solution): the b5-pawn was omitted. Version 22b below is markedly different, however.

Vienna, 1860 Philidor Defense (C41) Telegraf, I:30 (22 July 1860, column 1433), game 4: Herr Wilhelm Steinitz v. Herr N.N., reprinted in Caissa 2/2018, page 84.

wDwDqDk4 DwDwDw0w wDpDw$w0 DpDwDQDw wDrDwDwD DwDwDwDw wDPDwDP) DwDRDwDK

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 d6 3. d4 f5 4. d×e5 f×e4 5. Ng5 d5 6. e6 Nh6 7. Nc3 Bb4 A much later game Steinitz–J. Rainer, New York 1885, went instead 7. … c6 8. Ng×e4. 8. Ng×e4 d×e4 9. Qh5† g6 10. Qe5 White does not recapture the piece on h6 but plays for an immediate decision. 10.  … B×c3† 11.  b×c3 Rg8 12.  Bg5 Qd6 13.  Rd1 Q×e6 14.  Bc4 Nc6 15. B×e6 1–0

24. Steinitz–Amateur White to move

Vienna, 1860 Italian Game (C50) Notes from Telegraf, I:36 (2 September 1860, column 1719), game 10: Herr Wilhelm Steinitz v. Herr N.N.; reprinted in Caissa 2/2018, page 84.

1. Rd8 Q×d8 2. Qe6† Kh7 3. R×h6† g×h6 4. Qf7 mate (1–0).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 h6 “A weak move.” 4. d4 e×d4 5. 0–0 Bc5 6. c3 d3 7. b4 Bb6 8. b5 Na5 9. B×f7† K×f7 10. Ne5† Ke6 “Best.” 11. Qg4† K×e5 12. Qf5† Kd6 13. e5† Kc5 “If 13. … Ke7 14. Ba3† d6 15. e×d6† c×d6 16. Re1† etc.” 14. Q×d3 Nc4 15. Na3 Qh4 16. f4 1–0

22b. Steinitz–Amateur

25. Steinitz–Herr H.

Vienna 1860? See diagram Bachmann (game 4), said by him to be from 1861: “White forced mate in the following pretty manner.” He apparently found this in the Schachzeitung, XIX (October 1864, Endgame XCV on page 344), where it was described as a game formerly played by Steinitz in Vienna, but stating no year. It is possible, if improbable, that Steinitz played essentially the same finish twice, because this version is more complex, with additional pieces on the board.

rDqDwDk4 DpDwDw0w pDpDw$w0 DwDwDpDw wDwDwDP) )wDw!wDw w)wDwDPD DwDRDwDK

White to move

This time White’s first move gives check and there is a

Vienna, 1860 Evans Gambit (C52) Notes from Telegraf, I:38 (16 September 1860, column 1815), game 12: Herr Wilhelm Steinitz v. Herr H.; reprinted in Caissa 2/2018, page 85.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 Nf6 8. Ba3 d6 9. e5 d5 10. Bb5 Ne4 11. B×c6† b×c6 12. c×d4 Bb6 13. Nbd2 Bg4 14. Re1 c5 “This move leads to the loss of the game. The following interesting variation might have been played: 14. … B×d4 15. N×e4 B×a1 16. Nf6† g×f6 17. e×f6† Be6 18. Q×a1 and White stands much better.” 15. N×e4 d×e4 16. R×e4 B×f3 17. Q×f3 c×d4 “If 17. … 0–0 18. d×c5 Ba5 19. Rd1 Qg5 20. Bc1 Qg6 21. Rg4 Qc2 22. Bh6 Rfd8 23. Rc1 Q×a2 24. R×g7† Kh8 25. Rg8† K×g8 26.  Qg4† Kh8 27.  Qg7 mate.” 18.  e6 f6 19.  R×d4 B×d4 20. Qc6† 1–0.

26. Steinitz–Amateur Vienna (Queen’s rook odds), 1860 Remove White’s queen’s rook Telegraf, I:39 (23 September 1860, column 1863), game 13:

32

Steinitz in London

Herr Wilhelm Steinitz v. Herr N.N., reprinted in Caissa 2/2018, page 85.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 d6? 4. … g4 is correct. 5. h×g5 Bg7 6. d4 Bg4 7. B×f4 B×f3 8. g×f3 Nc6 9. c3 Qe7 10. b4 0–0–0 11. Qa4 a6 12. b5 Nb8 13. Bh3† Rd7 Better than 13. … Nd7. 14. b×a6 N×a6 15. Nd2 Nb8 Hoping by … b6 to keep the White knight out of a5. 16. Nb3 b6 17. Kf2 Preparing the brilliant finish. 17. … h6 18. Qa8 h×g5 19. Na5 Qf6 19. … b×a5 20. Rb1. 20. Nc6 1–0

27. Steinitz–Amateur Vienna (Queen’s rook odds), 1860 Remove White’s queen’s rook Telegraf, I:40 (30 September 1860, column 1911), game 14: Herr Wilhelm Steinitz v. Herr N.N.; reprinted in Caissa 2/2018, page 85.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. d4 d6 6. 0–0 Nc6 6. … Bg4 was better. 7. c3 h6 8. g3 f×g3 9. B×f7† Ke7 “It is interesting to examine the play that follows if Black captures the Bishop,” said the columnist, giving no variations. This all-out attacking style, irrespective of soundness, is how one had to play if giving odds of a rook. 10. B×g8 Q×g8 11. e5 d×e5 11. … d5 was the correct move. 12. Qd3 Qh7 13. Qc4 Qg6 14. d5 g4 15. Nh4 g×h2† 16. Kh1 Qh5 17. d×c6 Be6 18. Qc5† Ke8 19. c×b7 Rd8 20. b3 “A really brilliant move.” 20. … Q×h4?? 21. Qc6† Ke7 22. Ba3† Rd6 23. Q×c7† Ke8 24. Q×d6 1–0

Bb4 30. Qc7 Q×c7 31. R×c7 Be8 32. Ra7 a5 33. Kf1 “and won” (1–0).

30. E. Jeney–Steinitz Vienna (2), 3 September 1860 Two Knights Defense (C55) Bachmann extra—19, the second game played for a stake of two gulden.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. Bc4 Nf6 5. Bg5 h6 6. Bh4 g5 7. Bg3 N×e4 8. 0–0 N×g3 9. f×g3 d5 10. Bb5 Bc5 11. Ne5 Be6 12. N×c6 b×c6 13. B×c6† Ke7 14. B×a8 Q×a8 15. Kh1 g4 16. Nd2 Bb6 17. Qe2 h5 18. Qe5 Kd7 19. Rae1 Qg8 20. b4 h4 21. g×h4 R×h4 22. g3 Rh3 23. Rf6 d3 24. Nf1 d×c2 25. Rf4 c6 26. Qe2 d4 27. Qd3 Bd5† 28. Kg1 Qg6 29. Qd2 d3† 30. Ne3 R×g3† 31. h×g3 Qh5 32. Rc1 Qh1† 33. Kf2 Qg2† 34. Ke1 Q×g3† 35. Rf2 B×e3 0–1

31. Steinitz–E. Jeney Vienna (3), 3 September 1860 English Opening to Queen’s Gambit (D32) Bachmann extra—20; the third of the games played for a stake.

1. c4 e6 2. Nc3 c5 3. e3 d5 4. c×d5 e×d5 5. d4 Nf6 6. d×c5 B×c5 7. Nf3 Nc6 8. Be2 0–0 9. 0–0 Bf5 10. Qb3 Nb4 11. a3 Bc2 12. a×b4 B×b3 13. b×c5 a6 14. Nd4 Qc7 15. N×b3 Rfd8 16. Rd1 h5 17. Bf3 Qe5 18. Ra4 g5 19. Rad4 Kg7 20. B×d5 Ng4 21. f4 g×f4 22. e×f4 Qc7 23. Ne4 a5 24. h3 Nh6 25. Be3 Nf5 26. R4d3 R×d5 27. R×d5 N×e3 28. Rg5† Kf8 29. Rd6 Rd8 30. Kf2 Nc4 31. Rf6 Qe7 32. Re5 N×e5 0–1

28. Herr W.–Steinitz Vienna, 1860 Two Knights Defense (C59) Telegraf, I: 41 (7 October 1860, column 1959), game 15; reprinted in Caissa 2/2018, page 85.

32. E. Jeney–Steinitz Casual game, Vienna, 4 September 1860 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann extra—21; nothing was said about a stake for this game or the next one.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. Ng5 d5 5. e×d5 Na5 6. Bb5† c6 7. d×c6 b×c6 8. Be2 h6 9. Nf3 e4 10. Ne5 Qd4 11. Ng4 B×g4 12. B×g4 Bc5 13. 0–0 e3 14. Bf3 e×f2† 15. Kh1 0–0 16. c3 Qd3 17. b4 Rae8 18. b×c5 Q×f1† 19. Q×f1 Re1 20.  Be2 Re8 21.  g3 R8xe2 22.  Kg2 R×f1 23.  K×f1 Re1† 24. K×f2 R×c1 0–1

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. c3 Nf6 5. d3 d6 6. h3 Bb6 7.  0–0 Be6 8.  B×e6 f×e6 9.  Qb3 Qe7 10.  Ng5 h6 11. N×e6 Kd7 12. d4 e×d4 13. N×d4 N×d4 14. c×d4 Q×e4 15. Nc3 Q×d4 16. Qf7† Kc6 17. Be3 Qe5 18. B×b6 K×b6 19. Rae1 Qa5 20. b4 Qa3 21. Re3 Raf8 22. Qc4 1–0

29. Steinitz–E. Jeney

33. Steinitz–E. Jeney

Vienna (1), 3 September 1860 English Opening to Queen’s Gambit (D32) Bachmann extra—18: the first of three games for a stake, as described above.

Casual game, Vienna, 4 September 1860 English Opening (A13) Bachmann extra—22

1. c4 e6 2. Nc3 c5 3. e3 d5 4. c×d5 e×d5 5. d4 Nf6 6. Nf3 Nc6 7. Be2 c4 8. 0–0 Bd6 9. b3 c×b3 10. Q×b3 0–0 11. Bb2 Na5 12. Qc2 Be6 13. Rfc1 Rc8 14. Qd1 a6 15. Na4 b5 16. Nc3 Nc4 17.  Qb3 Qa5 18.  a3 Bf5 19.  a4 b4 20.  N×d5 N×d5 21. B×c4 Nb6 22. Bd3 Be6 23. Qd1 b3 24. e4 N×a4 25. d5 Bd7 26. Q×b3 R×c1† 27. R×c1 Rb8 28. Bc3 N×c3 29. Q×c3

1. c4 e6 2. Nc3 d5 3. e3 Nf6 4. Nf3 Nc6 5. d4 Bb4 6. Qb3 0–0 7. Bd2 a5 8. a3 B×c3 9. b×c3 a4 10. Qc2 Bd7 11. c×d5 e×d5 12.  Be2 Na5 13.  0–0 Nb3 14.  Ra2 b5 15.  Be1 Rc8 16. Nd2 Na5 17. Rb2 c6 18. Qc1 Qe7 19. Qa1 Bf5 20. Rb4 h6 21.  Qb2 Ne8 22.  Qa1 Nc7 23.  Rb2 Ne6 24.  Qa2 g5 25. Nb1 Nb3 26. Bd2 Rb8 27. Bd1 B×b1 28. Q×b1 N×d2 29. R×d2 Q×a3 30. Qf5 Ng7 31. Qf6 Rfd8 … (unfinished)

1. The Making of a Master, 1836–1862

33

34. Steinitz–P…a

37. D. Harrwitz–Steinitz

Vienna (Queen’s knight odds), 1860 Remove White’s queen’s knight Telegraf, I:46 (11 November 1860, column 2201), game 20: Herr Wilhelm Steinitz v. Herr P…a. Possibly Pilhal was the opponent, but Anderberg, republishing the game in Caissa 2/2018, page 86, read the opponent’s designation as “B--A.” This is identical with the later Rock game (Game 109), except that here Steinitz gave QN odds and against Rock it was the QR. The moves are identical and the a1 rook is not required for the mate.

Vienna 1860 (or early 1861) Queen’s Gambit Accepted (D20) This was the first of two Harrwitz versus Steinitz games published in the Telegraf, II:2 on 14 January 1861, columns 91– 92 (as game 32) and reprinted in Caissa 1/2018, page 17. Nothing was said about the occasion on which they were played. The Telegraf also published other Steinitz games from time to time, but no others against Harrwitz. While the dating of publication (early 1861) is suggestive of the games being connected with the club tournament, as Anderberg thought, it is also quite possible that these two games may have been played on some other occasion during Harrwitz’s long stay in Vienna.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. 0–0 Nf6 7. Ba3 Bb6 8. d4 e×d4 9. Qb3 d5 10. e×d5 Na5 11. Rfe1† Be6 12. d×e6 N×b3 White gave notice of checkmate in six moves by: 13.  e×f7† Kd7 14.  Be6† Kc6 15.  Ne5† Kb5 16. Bc4† Ka5 17. Bb4† Ka4 18. a×b3 mate (1–0).

35. C. Hamppe–Steinitz Casual game, Vienna, 23 October 1860 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann extra—6

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. d3 d6 5. Nge2 Be6 6. 0–0 Nf6 7. Bg5 Qd7 8. Nd5 B×d5 9. e×d5 Ne7 10. Nc3 Bd4 11. B×f6 g×f6 12. Ne4 Qf5 13. Bb5† Kf8 14. c3 Bb6 15. a4 a5 16. Bc4 Qg6 17. Kh1 f5 18. Nd2 f4 19. Ne4 f5 20. Nd2 h5 21. Qf3 Kg7 22. d4 Qg4 23. d×e5 d×e5 24. Rae1 Ng6 25. Ba2 e4 26. Qh3 f3 27. Nc4 Nf4 28. Q×g4† h×g4 29. g×f3 g3 30. f×g3 R×h2† 31. K×h2 Rh8 mate (0–1).

36. Steinitz–Herr H. Vienna, 1860 Evans Gambit (C51) Telegraf, II (7 January 1861, column 46), game 31: “Herr Wilhelm Steinitz” versus “Herr H.” The date of publication implies the game was played in late 1860, and it was possibly a game from the 1860/61 club tournament.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. d5 Na5 9. … Ne5 would be less good; there follows 10. N×e5 d×e5 11. Ba3 Ne7 12. d6 etc. 10. e5 N×c4 11. Qa4† Bd7 12. Q×c4 d×e5 13. N×e5 Qf6 14. N×d7 Niessen noted that up to here the players followed a game Morphy–Bird from 1858 which continued 14. … K×d7 15. Qg4† Ke8 16. Bg5 Qg6 17. Nc3 Nf6 18. Rae1† Kf8 19. Qb4† Kg8 20. B×f6 Q×f6 21. Ne4 Qg6 22. Kh1 h5 23. f4 h4 24. f5 Qh5 25. Rf4 f6 26. N×f6† g×f6 27. Rg4† Q×g4 28. Q×g4† Kf8 29. Re6 Rh6 30. Qf4 Kg7 31. Re7† 1–0. 14. … Q×a1 15.  N×b6 a×b6 16.  Q×c7 Qf6 If 16.  … Q×b1 the Telegraf said White mates in five moves but it is six moves, viz., 17. Re1† Qe4 18. R×e4† Kf8 19. Ba3† Ne7 (19. … R×a3 20. Qd8 mate) 20. Q×e7† Kg8 21. Qe8† R×e8 22. R×e8 mate. 17. Q×b7 R×a2 18. Re1† Kd8 19. Bg5 Q×g5 20. Q×b6† Kc8 21. Re8† Kd7 22. Qc6 mate (1–0).

1. d4 d5 2. c4 d×c4 3. e4 e5 4. d5 f5 5. Nc3 Nf6 6. Bg5 Anderberg notes that Harrwitz had played this move in the 24th game of his match against Löwenthal in 1853. 6. … f×e4 7.  B×c4 Bf5 8.  Nge2 Be7 9.  B×f6 g×f6 10.  Ng3 Bg6 11. Ng×e4 Nd7 12. d6 c×d6 13. N×d6† B×d6 14. Q×d6 Nb6 15. Qe6† Qe7 16. Bb5† Kf8 17. Qh3 Qb4 18. 0–0 Kg7 19. a4 Q×b2 20. a5 Rhc8 21. a×b6 R×c3 22. Qd7† Kh8 23. Q×b7 Rac8 24. R×a7 Rg8 25. Qe7 1–0. Black resigns. The Telegraf gave a variation: 25. … Rf3 26. Bc4 R×f2 when White mates in four moves (starting 27. Qg7†! but that was left to the reader to work out).

38. Steinitz–D. Harrwitz Vienna 1860 (or early 1861) Sicilian Defense (B44) Telegraf, II:2 (14 January 1861), game 33; reprinted in Caissa 1/2018, page 17.

1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 c×d4 4. N×d4 e6 5. Nb5 a6 6. Nd6† B×d6 7. Q×d6 Nge7 8. Nc3 0–0 9. Be3 f5 10. f3 b5 This move gives [Black] a freer and more aggressive scope on the queenside. 11. a3 f×e4 12. f×e4 Ng6 13. 0–0–0 Qe7 Black proposes an exchange, reckoning on his closed [sic] pawns. 14. Be2 Q×d6 15. R×d6 Nf4 16. Bf3 Ne5 17. b3 N×f3 18. g×f3 Ng2 19. Bd4 Nh4 If 19. … R×f3 would follow 20. Rg1 and Black is lost. 20. Rg1 g6 21. f4 R×f4 22. Be3 Rf3 23. Bg5 Rh3 24. B×h4 R×h4 25. Rg2 Ra7 26. Rgd2 Rc7 27. Kb2 Rh3 28. Na2 Re3 29. Nb4 R×e4 30. N×a6 B×a6 31. R×a6 Kf7 32. Rb6 Re5 33. Rb8 Rh5 To make White’s intended move Rb8–h8 useless. 34. Rf2† Ke7 35. c4 b×c4 36. b4 Rh3 37. a4 Ra7 38. a5 Rb3† 39. Kc2 R×a5 0–1

39. F. Nowotny–Steinitz Vienna Chess Club Championship 1861/1862 Giuoco Piano (C56) Published in Waldheim’s Illustrirte Zeitung, no. 17 (26 April 1862) page 202, with the notes shown in quotation marks. The introduction to the game makes it clear that Dr. Friedrich Nowotny was the opponent in this case. The editor remarked that he played in a remarkably spirited fashion against the tournament winner.

34

Steinitz in London

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. 0–0 d6 5. c3 Nf6 6. d4 e×d4 7. c×d4 Bb6 8. Nc3 Bg4 9. Bb5 0–0 10. B×c6 b×c6 11. Bg5 h6 12. Bh4 g5 13. Bg3 B×f3 14. g×f3 Nh5 15. Kh1 Qf6 16. e5 “A very fine combination by White, which by the offer of a pawn yields a strong attack.” 16. … N×g3† 17. f×g3 d×e5 18. d×e5 Q×e5 19. f4 Qg7 20. f×g5 h×g5 21. Qd7 21. Qg4 would have been more dangerous to Black. 21. … Rad8 22. Q×c6 Rd6 23. Qf3 (see diagram)

wDwDw4kD 0w0wDp1w wgw4wDwD DwDwDw0w wDwDwDwD DwHwDQ)w P)wDwDw) $wDwDRDK

After 23. Qf3

23. … Rh6 “This move should have been prepared by 23. … g4 to force the White Queen to g2 where it would be inactive for a long time. If then 24. Qf4 Qh7 threatening 25.  … R×h2† 26.  K×h2 Qh7† 27.  Kg2 Qh3 mate. After White’s correct reply 24. Nd5 the combination fails because 24. … g4 can be met by 25. Nf6†.” (However after 24. Qf4 Qh7 White can play 25. Qd2 or 25. h4!? and the chances remain divided.) 24. Nd5 f6 25. g4 Qh7 26. Qe2 Rf7 “The only correct defensive move for Black, whose opponent overlooks the equally aggressive meaning of the move which brings Black an energetic finish. White ought to try to force a draw by exchanging N×b6.” 27. Rad1? R×h2† 28. Q×h2 Qe4† 29. Qg2 Rh7 mate (0–1).

40. Steinitz–Herr L. Vienna Chess Club Championship 1861/1862 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) This game (Bachmann game 3) was probably found by him in the D.S.Z., XVII (1862, page 148) but it had been pub-

lished earlier in Waldheim’s Illustrirte Zeitung, number 14 for 5 April 1862, which had two notes and information about the tournament. Although Bachmann said “Aus dem Turnier des Jahres 1861,” it is not known whether it was played in late 1861 or early 1862. The game was also published by George Walker (1803–1879) in Bell’s Life and London, 1 February 1863, saying “Game between Herr Steinitz and Herr L–, in Vienna Club.”

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Qh4† 3. g3 Qe7 4. f×e5 Q×e5 5. Nc3 Nf6 6. Nf3 Qh5 7. d4 Bb4 8. Bc4 0–0 9. e5 Ne4 10. 0–0 N×c3 11. b×c3 B×c3 12. Qd3 B.L.L.: “Steinitz always chooses a brilliant game; no matter at what risk. We wish we had a few more players of his mark. No bush shooting in him, no King’s Pawn one sneak.” 12. … B×a1 13. Ng5 B.L.L.: “Now observe the slashing attack Steinitz opens on his foe.” 13.  … d5 14. e×d6 c×d6 15. N×f7 B×d4† 16. Q×d4 Nd7 17. Bb2 Nf6 B.L.L.: “Better play 17. … Qc5.” 18. Nh6† Kh8 19. R×f6 R×f6 20. Q×f6 Qc5† 21. Kg2 Qc6† 22. Kf2 Qc5† 23. Kf3 Qc6† 24. Ke3 Qc5† 25. Kd2 Qb4† 26. Kd1 Bg4† 27. N×g4 Rg8 28. Qf7 d5 29. Nh6 Qf8 30. B×d5 Qd8 31. Q×b7 1–0. B.L.L.: “Greco gives nothing finer than this dashing game.”

41. Steinitz–Strauss Vienna, January 1862 Evans Gambit (C52) Waldheim’s Illustrirte Zeitung, no. 21 of 24 May 1862, saying “played in the Vienna Chess Club in January.” This was probably the same Strauss whom Steinitz had played previously.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d×c3 8. Qb3 Qf6 9. e5 Qg6 If 9. … N×e5 10. Re1 d6 11.  N×e5 d×e5 12.  Qa4†. 10.  N×c3 Nge7 11.  Ne2 0–0 12. Nf4 Qe4 13. Bd3 Qb4 14. B×h7† K×h7 15. Ng5† Kg8 16.  Qh3 Rd8 17.  Ba3 d6 If the queen goes away, Black is mated in two moves. 18.  Qh7† Kf8 19.  B×b4 B×b4 20. e×d6 B×d6 21. Qh8† Ng8 22. Rfe1 Bf5 23. Nh5 Be5 24. R×e5 1–0

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862 Either Löwenthal was misinformed or Kushelev’s plans changed on short notice and he decided to return to St. Petersburg, inviting his friend to follow. Italian historian Fabrizio Zavatarelli has written in his biography of Kolisch:

This chapter concerns Steinitz’s first four months in England from his arrival until his first serious head-to-head match following the London 1862 Congress, which was the first important international chess event to be held anywhere since London 1851. The next chapter will describe the city where Steinitz came to live, the chess scene that he found there, and will include his games from late 1862 up to his match with Green that began in December 1863. While Steinitz’s exact date of arrival in London and his route of travel from Vienna are unknown, he certainly landed in England in early May, a good six weeks before the Congress was due to begin. It is unknown where he first found lodgings; only three private addresses associated with him in London survive in the records, the earliest being in 1866. He is likely to have sought a room near Ries’s Grand Cigar Divan in the Strand, because that was the best place for him to seek people to play chess with him for money. His early arrival implies that Steinitz wanted to feel “at home” before serious play began. Improving his English was probably a factor too. One of his greatest future rivals, Joseph Henry Blackburne (1841–1924), also came to London from Manchester in May to acclimatize and obtain serious practice in advance of the tournament. Steinitz undoubtedly made his presence known to Löwenthal. The first mention of Steinitz’s name in England came in the latter’s column for The Era of Sunday, 11 May 1862:

The Hungarian must have been attracted by the prospect of living at the court of a great nobleman, in a fairly exotic city and with the opportunity to measure his strength with such masters as Petrov, Urusov, Shumov and Jaenisch, so he bet on adventure and renounced the London tournament.1

Kolisch had spent 18 months in London (between May 1860 and November 1861), apart from some visits to Paris, during which period he was practically a chess professional. He had by 1862 become recognized, along with Karl Ernst Adolf Anderssen (1818–1879) and Louis Paulsen (1833–1891), as one of Europe’s strongest active players but a protracted match in London against Paulsen in the fall of 1861 had finally ended as a draw by agreement after 31 games when Paulsen led 7–6 in decisive games. Kolisch’s challenge to the New Orleans genius Paul Morphy to play a match fell on stony ground, and for a few years Kolisch withdrew from top chess. It was probably at the Café de la Régence in Paris, early in 1860, that Kolisch had first met Kushelev, a wealthy landowner whose two loves were said to be chess and music. Thereafter they spent much time in each other’s company. There was some speculation about the nature of their relationship, to which the Russian once replied: “I believe he is my secretary.”2 Kolisch did indeed deal with much of the Count’s correspondence in the early 1860s and they also played chess together, sometimes for high stakes, which probably helped the Hungarian to build up his fortune.3 From an article Kolisch wrote many years later, it is known that he had come to London in time to attend the opening, on 1 May 1862, of the International Exhibition in Kensington, but decided to leave London because Kushelev “had offered to show me the land of his fathers in all its glory.”4 The roughly simultaneous arrival of Steinitz and Kolisch was almost certainly coincidental. Probably they never met

ARRIVAL OF CHESS PLAYERS IN LONDON.—Several Chess celebrities have arrived in London during the past week, amongst them, Herr Kolisch and Herr Steinitz. The former made only a brief stay here, but he will be present at the Congress with his patron and friend, Count Koucheleff, who will be a worthy representative of Russian Chess. Herr Steinitz intends entering the lists in the forthcoming Tournament.

In these early days there was considerable speculation in the press about who might contest the tournament. As it turned out, neither Kolisch, who was potentially a top prizewinner, nor his friend Count Grigory Kushelev-Bezborodko (1832–1870) remained in England during the chess congress.

35

36

Steinitz in London

at that time, or previously, since Kolisch had left Vienna at the end of 1857 some months before Steinitz arrived there. They certainly became acquainted in July 1862 when, after his Russian sojourn, Kolisch returned to London, near the end of Steinitz’s match with Italian master Serafino Dubois (1817– 1899), which is described at the end of this chapter. Dubois, in his memoirs, recalled seeing Kolisch and Steinitz together once or twice at the Philidorian Chess Rooms in Rathbone Place.5 Unlike Kolisch, Steinitz did not seek a wealthy patron. According to the biographical sketch by Devidé, in his collection of games by the champion, Steinitz carried with him from Vienna “numerous letters of introduction, none of which he delivered. He would not be under obligation to anyone.”6 No doubt it was beneficial for Steinitz’s preparations that he could practice against new opponents, especially as some of the amateurs he met in London were probably stronger than the majority of Vienna club members. A few games are known that Steinitz definitely played before the tournament began, so it is surprising that the following spectacular game is not to be found in Bachmann’s collection or the standard databases. It was published in the first volume of The Chess Player’s Magazine, where it was introduced thus: “Game played at the Cigar Divan in May, 1862….” That makes it one of the earliest games Steinitz played in London. When it was reprinted it in 1864 in The Sporting Gazette Limited, the paper said “between Steinitz and Burden, a short time before the departure of the latter gentleman from this country,” which appears vague. Francis (or Frank) Burden (1829?– 1882), from Belfast in Ireland, was one of several strong amateurs who were in London that summer and played friendly games with several of the competitors, but chose not to enter the tournament; he often had to be away on business. Steinitz played at least one other game with him before the tournament began: see Game 48.

42. F. Burden–Steinitz Grand Cigar Divan, London, May 1862 Evans Gambit (C51) C.P.M., I (1863) pages 110–112; later in The Sporting Gazette, 19 March 1864, page 225. The notes below are as in C.P.M., except for those prefaced “S.P.G.”

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. d4 e×d4 7. c×d4 Bb6 “Better than checking, in answer to which White can either interpose the Bishop or (best) move the King to B square threatening, do what Black may, to play Qa4 on the next move.” 8. Nc3 d6 9. Bg5 “Mr. Burden seems partial to this attack, which presents many interesting features.” 9. … Nge7 “Apparently the best reply.” 10. Nd5 f6 (see diagram) 11. B×f6 S.P.G.: “The idea of this ingenious sacrifice originated with Mr. Burden. It certainly yields the first player a powerful attack, though, theoretically, its soundness may perhaps be questionable.” 11. … g×f6 12. N×f6† “This line of play is bold and ingenious. Whether or not it is correct

After 10. … f6

rDb1kDw4 0p0whw0p wgn0w0wD DwDNDwGw wDB)PDwD DwDwDNDw PDwDw)P) $wDQIwDR

may yet remain an open question, but for the sake of theory we should like to see it fully analysed and closely examined. True, White got only two pawns for the piece he sacrificed, but then look at the position, and the strong attack he obtained in return for it.” 12. … Kf8 13. Ng5 “Threatening to win the Queen.” 13. … Ng6 S.P.G.: “The best reply.” 14. Qf3 N×d4 S.P.G.: “Black plays the whole of this difficult defence with great judgment and accuracy.” 15. Nf×h7† Kg7 16. Qf7† Kh6 17.  0–0 Qe7 18.  Nf6 K×g5 19.  f4† N×f4 “This is decisive, and was obviously not taken into account by White. If he takes the Queen now, Black, in his turn, mates in two moves.” 20. Nh7† R×h7 21. Q×f4† Kg6 22. Kh1 “If 22. Qg3† Queen interposes with perfect safety.” 22. … Be6 23. B×e6 N×e6 24. Qg4† Ng5 25. Rf5 Rah8 26. h3 Rh4 27. Qg3 R×h3† “Very clever. Black now turns the attack completely in his favour, having secured a safe retreat for the King after his strange and venturesome migrations.” 28. g×h3 Q×e4† 29. Kh2 Qe2† 30. Rf2 R×h3† S.P.G. ends here saying “and wins.” 31. Q×h3 Q×f2† 32. Qg2 Qh4† 0–1 Steinitz also met Frederic Horace Deacon (1829?–1875), a Bruges-resident Englishman, who had also come to London for the tournament. It was a chance for both to obtain some hard practice, with probably a small financial stake. Number 43 was definitely played in May; the following two may also have been played around the same time but there is no certainty. Both were first published in 1863. No English source has yet been traced for the second of these, but it appeared in Germany.

43. F. H. Deacon–Steinitz Casual game, London Chess Club, 29 May 1862 King’s Gambit (C55) Bachmann (game 29) says this was played on 8 June at the London Chess Club but that was the date of its first publication in The Era. There are other examples in his book where he dated a game to when it was first published. The Era of the previous Sunday had mentioned a “most interesting game” between Steinitz and Deacon, played at London Chess Club “last Thursday” which was to be published shortly. So we can date this game 29 May. Löwenthal reprinted it in his other column, for the Illustrated News of the World, on 14 June 1862. It was also in the Illustrirte Zeitung on 12 July 1862.

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862 1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. d4 d6 6. 0–0 h6 7. g3 g4 8. Ne1 f3 9. c3 Qe7 10. Qb3 Nc6 11. Bb5 Bd7 12. B×c6 b×c6 13. Nd3 h5 14. Na3 h4 15. Bf4 h×g3 16. B×g3 Bh6 17. Rae1 Bd2 18. Nc4 B×e1 19. R×e1 Nh6 20. Qc2 Qg5 21. Ne3 0–0–0 22. Nf4 Rde8 23. Qa4 Qb5 24. Q×a7 R×e4 25. Nd3 Qb7 26. Qa5 f5 27. Kf2 Be6 28. b3 Kd7 29. Qa3 Nf7 30. Qb2 Ng5 31. c4 Nh3† 32. Kf1 Kc8 33. Bf2 f4 34. Nc2 B×c4 35. Qc3 B×d3† 36. Q×d3 Qb5 37. Q×b5 R×e1† 38. N×e1 c×b5 0–1

44. Steinitz–F. H. Deacon Casual game, London Chess Club (2), May? 1862 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 30), from C.P.M., I (1863) pages 42–43, saying it was played at the London Chess Club during the 1862 tournament.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 d5 5. e×d5 N×b4 6. Ba3 Qe7 7. 0–0 Bg4 8. d4 B×f3 9. Q×f3 e×d4 10. Nc3 N×c2 11. d6 B×d6 12. Q×b7 Rd8 13. Nd5 B×h2† 14. K×h2 Q×a3 15. Rac1 d3 16. g3 Nf6 17. N×f6† g×f6 18. Rfe1† N×e1 19. R×e1† Kf8 20. Q×c7 1–0

45. F. H. Deacon–Steinitz Casual game, London Chess Club (3), May? 1862 Evans Gambit Declined (C51) Bachmann (game 31) from D.S.Z., XVIII (April 1863) pages 118–119; also game 73 in Neumann and Suhle’s Neueste Theorie.7

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 Bb6 5. b5 Na5 For notes on this variation see Game 74. 6. N×e5 Bd4? 7. B×f7† Kf8 8. Ba3† d6 9. B×g8 K×g8 10. c3 B×e5 11. d4 Bf6 12. Nd2 Be6 13.  Qe2 Qe8 14.  0–0 Qf7 15.  d5 Bd7 16.  Rac1 Re8 17. Qd3 b6 18. f4 Nb7 19. Nf3 h6 20. Rce1 Qg6 21. f5 Qf7 22. g4 Kh7 23. h4 g5 24. h×g5 B×g5 25. e5 Qg8 26. e6 Bc8 27. f6† Qg6 28. N×g5† h×g5 29. Rf5 Nd8 30. Re2?! Deacon misses a brilliancy but sees it the following move. 30. … Nf7 31. R×g5! Rhg8 32. Rh2† Nh6 33. Rgh5 Kh8 34. R×h6† Q×h6 35. R×h6 mate (1–0). One of the first strong English players whom Steinitz encountered in London was the accountant Henry Edward Bird (1829–1908), who at that period of his life was concentrating on his career and therefore did not participate in the formal Congress proceedings. Between 1860 and 1865, and again from 1867 through 1872 Bird played few published chess games. Nevertheless he was persuaded to meet Steinitz and they played several games, if not a match, and a line about them in The Field of 7 June shows that at least the earliest ones must have been in late May or in the earliest days of June 1862.8 No overall score was published but two games appeared in the July/August 1862 number of the Deutsche Schachzeitung and later in Bell’s Life in London. In his book on the 1894 Lasker–Steinitz match, Bird wrote. My first meeting with Mr. Steinitz was in this wise. When I was quite out of the chess world … a small deputation waited on me at 16, To-

37

kenhouse Yard, City (prominent members of which were Messrs. Staunton, Boden and Duffy), asking me to meet a wonderful chessplayer, who had arrived a week or two from abroad. This was Mr. Steinitz. I went to Purssell’s and we had sixteen offhand games with even results.9

46. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Friendly match, Purssell’s (1), May/June 1862 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 24); first published in D.S.Z., XVII (1862) page 244 and then in B.L.L., 9 November 1862. Afterwards it appeared in the I.L.N. 27 June 1863 (not saying it was an old game) and was then repeated in D.S.Z., XIX (1864) pages 343–344, and B.L.L., 24 June 1865, saying it was from the “London Tourney of 1862” (in which Bird did not compete!) This is game 149 in Renette’s book on Bird.10

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bb4 3. Nf3 Nc6 4. Bc4 Nf6 5. 0–0 B×c3 6. d×c3 d6 7. Bg5 h6 8. Bh4 Be6 9. Bd3 g5 10. N×g5 D.S.Z. called this “an unhealthy offer!” Walker in Bell’s Life said “Steinitz always plays a dashing game; not always sound.” 10. … h×g5 11. B×g5 Rg8 12. Bh4 Bh3 13. Bg3 Bg4 14. Qd2 Nh5 15. f3 N×g3 16. h×g3 Bd7 17. g4 Qh4 18. Qf2 Qh6 19. Rfe1 Ne7 20. Kf1 Ng6 21. g3 Ke7 22. Ke2 Rh8 23. Rh1 Q×h1 I.L.N.: “Having already a piece superiority, this is a profitable exchange for Mr. Bird.” 24. R×h1 R×h1 25. Qe3 Rah8 26. Qg5† f6 27. Q×g6 R8h2† 28. Ke3 Re1† 29. Be2 Rh×e2† 30. Kd3 Be6 0–1

47. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Friendly match, Purssells (2), May/June 1862 Petroff Defense (C42) Bachmann (game 25), from D.S.Z., XVII (July/August 1862), pages 244–245, saying it was played in June; copied by B.L.L., 9 November 1862. Renette, Bird (game 150, page 89) pointed out that the game score in the primary sources must be incorrect, and this author follows his amendment.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. Bc4 N×e4 4. Nc3 Nf6 5. N×e5 d5 This was surely the move played, Renette suggests. The primary sources say the game went 5. … Bb4?? 6. 0–0?? (both 6. B×f7† and 6. N×f7, and also 6. Qe2, are strong.) 6. … B×c3 7. b×c3 d5 8. Bb3 reaching the same position. It is less likely that this happened between two strong players than that something went wrong in transmitting these games to the German magazine. 6. Bb3 Bb4 7. 0–0 B×c3 8. b×c3 0–0 9.  d4 h6 10.  c4 c6 11.  f4 Ne4 12.  c×d5 c×d5 13.  c4 Nc6 14.  c×d5 Nc3 15.  Qd3 N×d4 16.  Bc4 Nde2† 17.  Kh1 b5 18.  Bb3 Qh4 19.  Bd2 Bf5 20.  Qe3 Rac8 21.  Bd1 N×d1 22. Ra×d1 Bg4 23. d6 Rc4 24. Be1 Qh5 25. N×c4 b×c4 26. d7 Ng3† 27. B×g3 B×d1 28. Qd2 1–0 Renette has quoted from another little-known short document written in 1890, Bird’s Chess Reviews, in which the English master used the occasion of publication of Steinitz’s

38

Steinitz in London

Modern Chess Instructor to put on record some of his assessment of its author. Only the following passage is relevant here but more will be quoted in later chapters and in Appendix VIII. I have known Mr. Steinitz since his first arrival in 1862, when I had been four years out of the active Chess circle, and was the first strong player, either amateur or professional, who encountered him. Without dwelling more on the incidents of those days it may at least be said that I did more to help Steinitz forward, and to popularise his Chess, than any other person did, or at that time well could do. This fact he has long recognized….11

The following game against Burden is the last of those known to have been played by Steinitz before the Congress got underway.

48. Steinitz–F. Burden Casual game, Simpson’s Divan, June/July 1862 Two Knights Defense (C58) Bachmann (game 27); comments from The Field, 12 July 1862: “The subjoined interesting game came off some few days ago at Mr. Ries’s Chess Divan.” So Bachmann was wrong to say it was played in August.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. Ng5 d5 5. e×d5 Na5 6. d3 h6 7. Nf3 e4 8. Qe2 N×c4 9. d×c4 Bg4 10. h3 Bh5 11. g4 Bg6 12. Nd4 h5 13. g5 Nd7 14. h4 Bc5 15. Be3 Ne5 16. Nd2 0–0 17. 0–0–0 a5 18. N2b3 Ba7 19. a4 f5 20. g×f6 R×f6 21. Bg5 Ng4 “Black here begins to play very prettily, and the positions and moves on both sides are both amusing and instructive.” 22. Ne6 R×f2 23. Q×f2 Q×g5† 24. h×g5 N×f2 25. N×c7 Rc8 26. Nb5 Be3† 27. Kb1 B×g5 “Very well played.” 28. Rhg1 N×d1 29. R×g5 h4 30. R×g6 h3 31. Rg3 Nf2 32. R×h3 N×h3 33. Nd6 e3 34. Kc1 Rf8 35. Kd1 (see diagram)

wDwDw4kD DpDwDw0w wDwHwDwD 0wDPDwDw PDPDwDwD DNDw0wDn w)PDwDwD DwDKDwDw

After 35. Kd1

35. … Ng1 0–1 The Field gave this as the final move of the game. Instead 35. … Ng5 was printed in Bachmann and Pickard; White could then reply Ke2.

Preparations for the Tournament The British Chess Association had decided at its September 1861 meeting to adopt that name and to hold an inter-

national tournament the following summer, to coincide with an international exhibition in the capital. The program of the chess congress, run under the auspices of the B.C.A., was announced in February 1862, published in the Illustrated London News on 1 March, and circulated worldwide. It was this that had attracted Steinitz to London. There were to be two over-the-board tournaments, including a Handicap, and a problem-composing tournament, together with various side-events. The whole Congress was fairly well, but not entirely satisfactorily, documented in an official tournament book that was edited principally by the chief organizer, and designated below as Löwenthal. Its publication was delayed until 1864, due in part to a dispute concerning the judging of the international problem composing tourney, but also because (according to Boden) of the incorrect notation of some foreigners’ games, necessitating writing far and wide for accurate records of them.12 The international tournament was also reported in a book edited by a Berlin master, in German, and designated below as Suhle.13 Both books contain the same set of games. “The Grand Tournament,” as it was officially known, was among the earliest chess tournaments to be conducted on the round-robin or all-play-all basis, and in that respect it set a precedent for most future international chess tournaments. The London Chess Club had, in the summer of 1851, organized such a competition after Staunton’s knock-out tournament at the St. George’s Club. It was unsuccessful because there was only one prize and once it became clear that Anderssen would win, the other competitors had mostly lost interest. Only about half of the 36 scheduled games were played.14 The announced plan of the 1862 Grand Tournament was that 16 players would play each other one game on even terms, but exclusive of draws, which meant that drawn games were replayed, sometimes more than once (reversing the colors each time), until a decisive result was obtained. They announced six prizes, totalling £210, and this prize list was adhered to although the final entries fell short of 16. Because this was the first time a major all-play-all tournament had ever been run, it is not surprising that the way it was conducted fell far short of modern practice. It would be a few more years before tournament organizers would recognize the desirability of having designated dates and times when each player met a certain opponent. In the list of regulations, number 8 stipulates that “the privilege of moving first shall be so arranged, that each player shall exercise it against one half of his antagonists,” which means that colors were pre-determined, presumably at the preliminary meeting, but how this was done is not explained in Löwenthal. As there were 14 competitors, half of them (Steinitz included) had seven Whites and he benefited further because two of the opponents against whom he should have been Black (Deacon and Löwenthal) never played their games

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862

39

Löwenthal’s May 1862 letter to Francesco Discart inviting him to participate in the London tournament. (Courtesy Miquel Artigas and Fabrizio Zavatarelli.)

with him. Other regulations for play in the tournament included: time to be measured by sandglasses (two hours for 20 moves), no adjournments, each competitor to play four games minimum per week (a rule not enforced), and the second player to supply a copy of each game to the organizers, who claimed the copyright. All but one of the drawn games, although they did not count for the score, appear to have been published in Löwenthal but two of the decisive games were never published. At London 1862, and other tournaments which Löwenthal ran subsequently, the scheduling of games appears to have been informal. There were no predetermined rounds. The participants themselves, in conjunction with Löwenthal and chess club secretaries, agreed dates and venues for their pairings. Regulation 6 specified that the agreement had to be entered in a book kept for that purpose, and there were fines for late appearance. A player would forfeit the game only if he did not appear within five hours of the agreed time. These rules may seem lax now, but they probably took account, in part, of the difficulty in the London of those days of knowing how long it might take to travel from A to B. The schedules of agreed pairings appear in the papers sometimes and help to clarify the sequence of events, but there were definitely

some departures from the plan and the arrangements for many games never appeared in print. Five venues were used during the tournament. Games could be played at the London Chess Club, the St. George’s Chess Club, or the Divan, with a few games played at the St. James’s Chess Club, which met in the evenings at a room of the St. George’s (which was a daytime club). An important feature of the Congress program was the week beginning Monday, 30 June when a public venue, the St. James’s Hall, was booked. This was a fairly new concert hall (opened in 1858) and situated centrally in the West End, between Piccadilly and Regent Street.15 A list of entries for the tournament, published in The Field on 31 May, included several players who did not eventually compete: not only Kolisch, but also the French master Jules Arnous de Rivière (1830–1905), Ernst Falkbeer, Bernhard Horwitz, and two Russians: Prince Urusov and P. A. Saburov (a diplomat then posted to London). Admittedly Boden did say that “the attendance of two or three of the above is doubtful.” Löwenthal (whom the title page of the tournament book describes as “Manager and Foreign Correspondent”) had written to at least one overseas player, the Italian number two Francesco Discart (1819–1893) from Modena, inviting

40

Steinitz in London

him to compete, without success. Not named in The Field’s list were six of the actual contestants, including (probably through an oversight in compiling the list), Steinitz himself. The official closing date was Friday, 13 June when a preliminary meeting was held, which all players were supposed to attend. Arnous de Rivière, when his name was called, “intimated his great regret that pressing engagements would prevent his taking part in the Tournament.”16 Urusov’s name was struck out when it was found that he was not present.17 Dubois apparently had a proxy at the meeting; he was included in the draw although he did not arrive in London for nearly another two weeks. Löwenthal offers no explanation of why the committee allowed him to start late. So 14 players began the tournament. The two German players Adolf Anderssen and Louis Paulsen were favorites for first place. Anderssen had won the 1851 London tournament and although his play in recent years had not been entirely successful, he was a formidable attacking player with a great wealth of experience. Paulsen, both in America and Europe, had shown himself to be an original player of high quality, but a slow mover. His success at the 1861 Bristol tournament, followed by his drawn match with Kolisch, meant his chances certainly could not be discounted. Löwenthal was also definitely of master class and had won

the 1858 Birmingham tournament, but at this stage of his career he was primarily a chess journalist and organizer. The course of the event proved that, as chief secretary of the congress, there were too many demands on his energies and he was unable to ride two horses at the same time. The biggest home success of the tournament was the Rev. John Owen (1827–1901), who like the three previously named, had the experience of meeting Morphy, and had also scored +4 –4 =0 against Kolisch in 1860. He was a major contender for top honors and deservedly finished third. To come to the minor prize-winners, Steinitz was inexperienced at this stage of his career, having mostly played against opponents a class or more below him, and this told against him, especially in the early stages, though he finished strongly. Dubois handicapped himself by his late arrival and his play was uneven. The opinion of Hooper and Whyld was that he was probably not as strong a player as his reputation suggested.18 Zavatarelli points out, however, that despite being chronically sick and more accustomed to the Italian chess rules (which had two significant differences), he still had an impressive record against some well-known players.19 The main impact of Dubois was that he won a crucial game against Paulsen. Steinitz eventually got the better of him.

The match between Louis Paulsen (seated left) and Ignaz Kolisch at the St. George’s Chess Club, 1861; from The Field, 31 December 1910. Löwenthal is seated between the players. In the accompanying article Hoffer identified the standing figures as (from left): George Webb Medley, Captain Hugh Alexander Kennedy, Joseph Kling, and “J. T. Hampton, the Secretary of the St. George’s.” Hoffer probably meant Thomas Inglis Hampton (who was the Honorary Secretary) and not his brother J. W. Hampton.

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862 The Rev. George Alcock MacDonnell (1830–1899), in his first tournament, made a good start. He defeated Blackburne, Steinitz and Owen and efficiently disposed of all but one of the tail-enders. This proved enough for fourth prize in view of the inconsistency of others. In time, MacDonnell was to prove inferior to his early rival George Henry Mackenzie (1837–1891), who played only in the Handicap tournament, perhaps reckoning correctly that it was his better chance of winning a prize. In the long run, MacDonnell could be viewed as either a minor master or strong amateur who might on his day cause the occasional upset. It was as a writer on chess, not a player, that MacDonnell ensured his legacy to the game. Of the competitors who had little hope of a high placing, a few words of introduction can suffice. Blackburne, the youngest player at just 20 years of age, was invited chiefly on the strength of his prowess as a blindfold player; he had little experience of play against masters hitherto. Thomas Wilson Barnes (1825–1874) was the most experienced and probably strongest of the non-prizewinners. A St. George’s Club member who had played with Morphy, he beat two dangerous opponents: Blackburne and MacDonnell. The economist and businessman Mongredien was a prominent figure in the chess world, as president of both the London and Liverpool Chess Clubs, but (as his one-sided 1859 match with Morphy had shown) he was hardly one of the strongest amateurs in England. He does seem to have believed in supporting needy professional players by arranging matches for them. Valentine Green (1831–1877) was a former Oxford University player recently returned from a period in India. James Washington Hannah (1826–1863) was a Brighton amateur and James Robey (1826–1885) was, according to Philip W. Sergeant, “a wealthy Australian inventor, who had several examples of his work on show at the Exhibition.”20 There were several players in London, for all or part of the duration of the Congress, who might have entered, or put their names forward and then withdrew it. Morphy (then in Paris) was definitely retired from serious play, as was Staunton. Henry Bird, probably the next strongest English player, was too busy with his work as an accountant at this time. Other strong and active British amateurs who did not take part were perhaps prevented by their need to earn money at their occupations. Boden worked in a railroad office in addition to being chess correspondent of The Field. His other chief interest was painting and he almost never took part in competitions. The other strong player Sergeant mentions who might have played was Joseph Campbell (1830–1891), but he only entered the problem composing tournament (and nearly won it) and was in some of the sideevents. All these players were definitely stronger than the tail-enders who did compete in the tournament. There were also some strong foreigners in London who chose not to compete. Falkbeer eventually played only in the

41

Handicap tournament. He had been working in England as a journalist since his Wiener Schachzeitung failed in the mid– 1850s and he remained in London until late 1864. He was somewhat out of practice, and probably disappointed not to be selected as the Vienna club’s official representative. Harrwitz, who returned to London in late July, liked to play against people he knew he could beat, but perhaps feared a serious blow to his reputation. Horwitz was no longer as strong a player as he had been in the 1840s and his friend Joseph Kling (1811–1876), who did play a small part in sideevents, was never truly of master strength. The course of the tournament may be traced using newspaper reports, which however are insufficient for a clear picture, especially of the later stages. The main shortcoming of the tournament book is that it fails to state the sequence of games, or when they were played. Nothing can be deduced from the sequence in which games are presented there. For example, Dubois versus Steinitz, probably the last to be played, is game 10 in Suhle’s book and game 50 in Löwenthal. The following reconstruction therefore involves some deductive reasoning and, since there are some contradictions between published reports, there can be no certainty of correctness.21 Steinitz’s games in the tournament will be found towards the end of this chapter, followed by some of his casual games and his subsequent match with Dubois.

The First Two Weeks Play was officially supposed to commence on Monday, 16 June. Barnes and Mongredien, “being eager to commence hostilities,” decided at the preliminary meeting to play next day, which they did on Saturday 14th at the London Chess Club. Their game, “which was marked by great vicissitudes” (this could be called typical English understatement), was won by Barnes after 71 moves. Other players were not so eager to commence, or were unable to arrange pairings for the Monday or even the Tuesday. In the case of Steinitz, it may be that he wished to measure himself first against the favorite, Anderssen, who was otherwise engaged on the Monday, but he learned for the future that it could be more prudent to “warm up” against less dangerous opponents and leave the main rivals to later. Some of the competitors, although not Steinitz, also had games to play in the Handicap tournament, which complicated their schedules. Löwenthal says (page liv) that “On Monday, and during the following fortnight, the Clubs and the Divan were thronged by the combatants in the various contests, and by spectators anxious to view the play.” Anderssen attracted the greatest interest, especially as he stormed into a large early lead. The earliest reports that mentioned any pairings were in Boden’s column for The Field on Saturday, 21 June, and Löwenthal’s for The Era next day. In the latter, the actual results of the

42

Steinitz in London

games was not published, only the scores of the players up to Friday night. Boden said that “Professor Anderssen, who is in excellent health and spirits, and in first-rate play, has already disposed of Messrs. Mongredien, Barnes, Steinitz, Green, and Deacon.” Anderssen was the first competitor to complete his program; he probably arranged some games at short notice so they were not included in The Era’s list. He was even willing to meet two opponents on the same day, else he could not have had five wins in time for Boden’s deadline. Tentatively we suggest that he played his two games with Mongredien on the Wednesday, and then on the Thursday after winning his scheduled game with Deacon, he took on Green at short notice and despatched him also.22 The Era was formally published on Sundays but printed and distributed on Saturday afternoon, so we can assume that Löwenthal submitted his copy on Friday, enabling him to report what had happened in the tournament up to Thursday evening and apparently some games played in the daytime on Friday. Any results from Saturdays could not be included until the following weekend. There is one other apparent source for results in the first week, namely The Chess Player’s Chronicle, but what it says on page 197 was just copied from The Era. The magazine was about to cease publication but struggled on long enough to report the tournament in somewhat cursory fashion; it listed no results from the second week at all. Another source for the progress of the tournament is Löwenthal, commencing at page liii, although it adds little to what had appeared in the newspapers. Knowing the results from these three periodicals and the tournament books, we can otherwise list the first week’s play as follows: Saturday, 14 June: Barnes 1–0 Mongredien (London CC). Monday, 16 June: Anderssen 1–0 Barnes (St. George’s Club); Robey 0–1 Paulsen (no venue stated); MacDonnell 1–0 Mongredien (London Chess Club). Tuesday, 17 June: Blackburne 1–0 Green (London CC); Anderssen 1–0 Steinitz (London CC); Robey 0–1 Barnes (Divan). Wednesday, 18 June: Barnes 0–1 Owen (St. George’s CC); MacDonnell 1–0 Steinitz. The Era and C.P.C. (which just seems to have copied it) say “and two others at the Divan” between Steinitz and MacDonnell. As explained below (see Game 50) there cannot have been a draw between them. It is more likely that, through an oversight or a misprint, the identity of the players in the other game at the Divan that day was omitted from the newspaper report and C.P.C. had no further information. As argued above, we can tentatively identify another result this day: Anderssen 1–0 Mongredien. The tournament book shows that Mongredien drew their first game (with the White pieces), so they actually played two games (probably at London Chess Club). Thursday, 19 June: Deacon 0–1 Anderssen and Löwenthal

1–0 Mongredien (both at London CC). We can tentatively add Anderssen beating Green, and MacDonnell 0–1 Hannah, at an unknown venue; if that game had been played earlier it is likely that Löwenthal would have received the result in time for his report. The games played on the Friday and Saturday of that week were too late for mention in The Field of 21 June but The Era came out later. Friday, 20 June: Robey 0–1 Anderssen (St. George’s CC); Deacon 1–0 Green and MacDonnell 1–0 Blackburne (both at the Divan).23 The Era lists the points scored by the players so far as: Anderssen 5, Barnes 2, Paulsen 1, MacDonnell 2, Blackburne 1, Owen 1, Löwenthal 1, and Deacon 1, but, according to the results earlier in the report, the score for MacDonnell should have been 3.24 There should also have been a point for Hannah in this list. No game by Hannah was mentioned in The Era but The Field reported that he had beaten MacDonnell; Hannah had also played two games in the Handicap. Anderssen, Blackburne, Deacon and Green were also in the Handicap, and Blackburne was already eliminated by the end of the week. To modern eyes it is surprising how few games were played that week, considering that all the players except Dubois were available. Paulsen, having traveled from Germany, was not in the Handicap but, being unwell, he had only played one game.25 The same report in The Era lists “engagements for next week,” i.e., the games which (according to the secretary’s book) were due to be played the following week, but there is nothing to say what games were expected to take place on Saturday 21st. It was also open to players to make arrangements for that week which were not entered in the book in time for the Era deadline. For the action in the second week the available reports are in The Field of 28 June and The Era of 29 June. A brief list in the Illustrated London News of 28 June lacks some scores and is unspecific about who had played whom. For example, The Field lists Anderssen’s eight victims so far whereas the other paper only said he had won all his six games. Both The Field and I.L.N. said that Falkbeer had withdrawn but he had not entered. The games in the second week were probably as follows: Monday, 23 June: Owen 1–0 Hannah (St. George’s); Green 0–1 Löwenthal (St. George’s); Steinitz 0–1 Blackburne (London CC).26 Paulsen’s win against Owen may also have been played on this day; the result was published in The Field at the weekend.27 Dubois, who had left Rome on 15 June, arrived in London on the evening of the 23rd and appeared at chess clubs next day, but “fatigued by his long journey, and suffering from indisposition, he was unable to enter the lists during this week.”28 The Era of the 29th says Dubois immediately went to the London Chess Club and afterwards the St. James’s Club. He played some practice games during the second week (a

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862 draw with Löwenthal and a loss to Anderssen were mentioned), but did not start competitive play until the following Monday. “The other combatants had now settled to their work in earnest and great progress was made in the play,” says the tournament book. Tuesday, 24 June: Blackburne 0–1 Deacon (London CC); Löwenthal 1–0 Barnes (St. George’s). The third game listed for the day was between Steinitz and Mongredien (at London Chess Club) but it was apparently postponed because the result does not appear in the list in The Field of 28 June. On the other hand, the game MacDonnell 0–1 Anderssen, listed in The Field at the weekend, was probably played on 24 June.29 Wednesday, 25 June: The Era listed Owen 1–0 Hannah (at St. James’s Chess Club) for the 28th but it must have been played earlier in the week, probably the 24th or 25th, because The Field had the result on that day. Blackburne versus Löwenthal was scheduled (2 p.m. at St. James’s Chess Club), but this was apparently postponed, and ultimately never played. Instead Blackburne probably played, and defeated, Owen.30 Thursday, 26 June: Paulsen 1–0 Owen (St. George’s CC); MacDonnell 1–0 Deacon (Divan). The scheduled game between Steinitz and Hannah appears to have been postponed and played on 2 July. In addition, Robey v. Löwenthal was scheduled for the Divan but not played. Since Löwenthal is subsequently credited with a score of 4, we must assume that Robey failed to show up (although this is never explicitly stated) and conceded the point by forfeit. This fourth point for the Hungarian is already included in his total published in the Era on the 29th. Löwenthal would be too busy organizing to play any games the next week.31 The game Anderssen 1 Blackburne 0, not mentioned in the advance schedule, was probably played on Thursday.

43

Friday, 27 June: Deacon versus Steinitz (St. George’s CC); this game was probably postponed by Deacon due to illness and only forfeited later. Saturday, 28 June: Mongredien 1–0 Deacon (London CC). Also scheduled for this day was Paulsen versus Blackburne (at the St. George’s) which was either a draw (replayed later) or, more likely, was postponed because Paulsen was unwell. An important game was played on Saturday, 28 June: Owen 1–0 Anderssen. This dating comes from the tournament book; contemporary press reports, concentrating on the Grand Week that followed, fail to mention it. It should be noted that, from Black’s 13th move, the game score as it appears in some databases disagrees with the score in Löwenthal, which should be taken as the correct version. Anderssen now had only three opponents to meet: Dubois, Löwenthal and Paulsen, but in theory these were his most dangerous rivals. The Era for 29 June listed no individual results but included a table of scores which probably included games played up to some time on Friday. Anderssen was said to have played ten games, winning nine. As the result Hannah 0–1 Anderssen was not in The Field’s list, which had eight Anderssen wins, one may fairly confidently assign this game to Friday 27th. In second place at this stage was MacDonnell with four wins but he had also lost three games. The table cannot be entirely trusted because it shows an odd number of draws so there was at least one misprint. Similar check-sum errors can be seen in other lists of scores for this tournament. Steinitz, by contrast, still had no points and three losses. He had drawn one game (before losing) to MacDonnell and he may have played a draw with Owen on Saturday, 28th. He was presumably watching and learning and eventually

London 1862 Table 1 (situation after two weeks’ play) London 1862 1 Anderssen 2 Paulsen 3 Owen 4 MacDonnell 5 Dubois 6 Steinitz 7 Barnes 8 Hannah 9 Löwenthal 10 Blackburne 11 Deacon 12 Mongredien 13 Green 14 Robey

1 • 1 0

2 • 0 0

3 0 1 •

4 1 1

5

•

6 1

7 1

8 1

=? 1

1

1 0

9

10 1 P? 0 1

11 1

12 =1

1

1

0

P

P 1

13 1

14 1 1

Pts 9 3 3 4

• 0 0 0

=? 0 0

0

•

P •

1

P

P?

0

1

0 0 0

1 P P

1

• 1

0 0 =0 0 0

0

0 0

• P 0 0 –

P • 1 0

1 0 • 1 0

0 •

1 1 1

+

• •

0 2 1 4 3 2 1 0 0

Blank cells in the table are games not yet played; if P: game was scheduled but postponed. Equal sign means a drawn game (to be replayed). Plus/minus signs indicate the one game so far scored by default. There are some uncertainties about whether games had yet been played or not.

Again there are many uncertainties. GW means played during the Grand Week (third week) in the St. James’ Hall. AGW means played after the Grand Week at an indeterminate date. W5 means definitely played in the fifth week. Where there were draws, it is the date of the decisive game that is listed. Plus and minus signs indicate games scored because of forfeit or eventual withdrawal. The last two columns show how many games each competitor is believed to have played in the first two weeks, and in the Grand Week.

Jun-20 10 Jun-16 2 GW 5 Jul-03 5 + 0 AGW 3 Jun-17 5 + 3 + Jun-26 3+wo Jul-02 6 GW 5 GW 6 GW 4 • 3+def Jun-19? GW? GW? GW GW Jul-05 Jun-30 GW Jun-23 Jun-17 Jun-20 GW • GW Jun-18? W5 Jul-03 Jun-16 AGW Jul-08? Jun-14 AGW Jun-19 AGW Jun-28 • GW GW Jun-19 + + Jun-26 + + GW + – Jun-24 • Jun-28 Jun-20 GW 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Anderssen Paulsen Owen MacDonnell Dubois Steinitz Barnes Hannah Löwenthal Blackburne Deacon Mongredien Green Robey

• Jun-30 Jun-28 Jun-24 Jul-04 Jun-17 Jun-16 Jun-30 • Jun-26 Jun-23? AGW W5 Jul-04 Jun-28 Jun-26 • Jul-04 + GW Jun-30 Jun-18 Jun-24 Jun-23? Jul-04 • + Jun-18 July-4? Jul-04 AGW – GW – • Jul-24? Jul-02 Jun-17 W5 Jun-30 Jun-18 Jul-24? • Jul-01 Jun-16 Jul-04 Jun-18 July-4? Jul-02 Jul-01 • Jun-27 GW? Jun-23 Jun-19 AGW Jul-02 AGW – – – – – – Jun-24 Jun-26 AGW Jun-25 Jun-20 Jun-30 Jun-23 Jul-05 Jun-19 – – Jun-26 – – GW Jun-18? W5 Jul-03 Jun-16 AGW Jul-08? Jun-14 Jun-19? GW? GW GW? GW Jul-05 Jun-30 Jun-20 Jun-16 GW Jul-03 – AGW Jun-17

Jun-27 GW? Jun-23 Jun-19 AGW Jul-02 AGW • – July-3? – AGW GW –

+ + + + + + Jun-24 + • + + Jun-19 Jun-23 – Jun-26

Jun-26 AGW Jun-25 Jun-20 Jun-30 Jun-23 Jul-05 July-3? – • Jun-24 AGW Jun-17 Jul-02

14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 London 1862

London 1862 Table 2 (when games were played)

2 3 4 2 4 6 5 2 0 3 0 3 4 2

Steinitz in London Wk1&2 Wk3

44

his play and results improved, although not immediately. Table 1 shows the probable state of the tournament at the end of the second week. Possibly it omits some games played among the weaker competitors but it most likely shows the significant results. This may be compared with Table 2 which attempts to show the dates (or approximate weeks) on which games were played. In that table, “GW” (meaning Grand Week) is assigned to games that were almost certainly played in the third week because, with all players present at the same venue for six days, this would have offered ample opportunity to arrange and play games not previously scheduled. Games marked “AGW” were probably played in the fourth week but some may have been later.

The “Grand Week” Information is much more readily available about the events during the “Grand Week” in the St. James’s Hall, between Monday, 30 June and Saturday, 5 July. There were numerous reports in the daily press, in addition to the usual weekly columns and the tournament book. This week was not intended primarily as an opportunity to advance the international tournament. The public were admitted to watch the play, and it was intended to popularize chess by holding numerous side events for spectators. These would be more interesting to watch than slow, dour tournament games. These exhibitions were mostly in the latter half of the week, and included consultation and telegraph games, and the blindfold simultaneous displays conducted by Paulsen and Blackburne. A telegraph match with Paris was also planned but it was postponed and eventually canceled because of problems at the French end. Walker, in Bell’s Life of 6 July, made various comments about the week, saying: “We noticed some brilliant play on the part of Herr Steinitz of Vienna—a new man here.” The daily press reports were almost exclusively concerned with the sideshows and not with the progress of the tournament. It is clear that this was a real festival of chess. Many players did not restrict themselves to one game per day, going on to one of the clubs or the Divan after some hours in the Hall. The following were the results of games known to have been played during the third week in that tournament, but there were probably several more not mentioned in press reports. Monday, 30 June: Anderssen beat Paulsen in a clash that was clearly important for the goal of first prize. In retrospect, the first prize was effectively decided by this result, but that was not certain yet because the Breslau master still had to play Dubois and Löwenthal. An advertisement in this day’s Daily News, Standard and Morning

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862 Post said that Löwenthal would play Anderssen next day and Dubois on Saturday, but neither of those games was played. Other results on the Monday were Barnes 1–0 Green, Dubois’ draw with Blackburne and, as Löwenthal said, “Mr. Owen defeated Mr. Steinitz.” Their first (drawn) game had probably been played the previous Saturday. Later in the day, at the London Chess Club, Steinitz played a friendly game with the Scottish clergyman known in the chess press as “Delta” (see Game 64). Tuesday, 1 July: Deacon 0–1 Robey; Owen drew with Mongredien; Steinitz 1–0 Barnes (Game 54). The Daily News on 2 July said that this was the fourth tournament game that Steinitz had played, and that it followed losses to Blackburne, MacDonnell, and Anderssen. However this is typical of the contradictions between sources that make it difficult to unravel the precise sequence of events. It may help to confirm that his game with Mongredien had been postponed from the 24th, and that he had not yet played Hannah, but Steinitz had certainly also played Owen twice: there are two games in the tournament book. Wednesday, 2 July: Barnes 0–1 Dubois; Blackburne 0–1 Robey; Mongredien–Owen, a second draw. (This was the day of Paulsen’s blindfold performance.) Dubois’ own memoir shows that, in the same sitting, he had first played a drawn game with the White pieces against Barnes, the score of which must have been lost to posterity because it is not in the tournament book.32 Dubois wrote that he might have lost that game after a closed opening and losing a pawn, but he saved it with some sacrifices to bring about perpetual check.33 Thursday, 3 July: Owen 1–0 Mongredien at the third attempt; Robey 0–1 MacDonnell. Additionally, it is likely that Hannah 1–0 Blackburne was played on 3 July. The date is not explicitly stated in sources but the result was in The Field on 5 July. The Daily News on the 3rd had only three wins for Hannah whereas The Field had four. This afternoon was originally earmarked for a telegraph game with Paris; when that was postponed to Saturday, two “English versus Foreigners” consultation games were played instead, for a prize of £5 in each. Steinitz was on the winning side of one of these (see Game 65 below). Friday, 4 July: Anderssen 1–0 Dubois; Barnes 0–1 Paulsen; Owen 0–1 MacDonnell. (This was the day of Blackburne’s blindfold performance.) Anderssen easily beat the unwell Dubois in a game which “lasted little more than an hour, and was not conducted by Signor Dubois with his usual skill. In fact his play was extremely bad.”34 MacDonnell took seven hours to beat Owen, while Paulsen’s win was a replay of a previous draw with Barnes which was possibly played earlier that day.35 According to the Zavatarelli chronology, the missing game between Barnes and MacDonnell was probably played on either the 3rd or 4th of July, although that means two games were played by MacDonnell on whichever day it was. Saturday, 5 July: Blackburne 0–1 Barnes; Green 0–1

45

Winner of the London 1851 and 1862, and Baden-Baden 1870, tournaments: Adolf Anderssen, with his autograph, from Hermann von Gottschall’s collection of Anderssen’s games.

Steinitz (after two draws which were probably played the previous day.) Some other games may well have been played during this week, though we are not explicitly told when. Among these are Owen’s win against Green after two draws; if they (as is likely) met more than one opponent in a day these games could have been fitted in; otherwise they were played next week. It is also uncertain when Barnes beat both Deacon and Hannah with Black, after drawing with White when he had first move against them. The Hannah games may have been played later but since Deacon did not forfeit to Barnes it is likely they played during the Grand Week, or early in the fourth week, before the dinner. Renette’s biography of Paulsen places his wins against Hannah and Green in the fourth week, though at least one of these might have been played too late in the Grand Week to be included in that week’s press reports. On Saturday, 5 July, the hall (in the words of Dubois) “was besieged from morning by chess-lovers of both sexes” hoping to see the rescheduled telegraph match with Paris. About 4 p.m., when news came from France that it was finally canceled, the organizers hastily arranged a consolation attraction for the spectators, so that “those who had come to witness a match by telegraph would not be altogether disappointed.”36 Two foreign teams were dispatched to play from the London

46

Steinitz in London

Chess Club against Englishmen remaining at the St. James’ Hall. Steinitz, Anderssen, Paulsen, the Chevalier de St. Bon, Dubois, Falkbeer, along with Mr. Chinnery as secretary, “were then hurried off in Cabs to the City, a distance of more than two miles, a telegram being sent to the Club to announce their coming.” While Anderssen and Paulsen played in consultation against Löwenthal and Mongredien, the others were split up into single games, which would go faster. The Daily News of 7 July shows that Steinitz played Hannah, while St. Bon played against George Medley, Falkbeer against Joseph Campbell, and Captain Hugh Alexander Kennedy (1809– 1878) against Dubois. All these games were discontinued at midnight and only the moves of the Dubois game were preserved.37

Conclusion of the Tournament After three weeks play, some pairs of opponents had still not met while others had draws to replay. Any unfinished pairings were due to be played at the various clubs or the Divan, as in the first two weeks, but The Field of 12 July complained that “the tournament appears to have made very little progress” since the conclusion of the proceedings at the St. James’s Hall. We can take this, in view of Boden’s deadlines, to mean that few games were played between July 7 and 11. He had no new result to report and there is not one game that can be definitely assigned to one of those days. Boden said he had heard complaints from some players that the rules should have been more strictly enforced by the management committee (named as Löwenthal, Medley, Mongredien and Wayte) and in particular that the rule about defaults should be enforced. He also made recommendations about the conduct of future tournaments, including “that all should begin at about the same time and proceed equally.” The Congress dinner was held on Thursday, 10 July at Willis’ Rooms. There were about fifty gentlemen present but only a few of the tournament competitors were there: Anderssen, Deacon, Löwenthal, MacDonnell, and Steinitz himself. On the following Thursday there was a meeting to adopt the B.C.A.’s code of laws, which differed in some espects from those which Staunton had laid down in his Chess Praxis. On Saturday, 19 July, Boden reported that Anderssen, Barnes, and Owen had now played out their complement of games. He said that the default rule and the four games per week rule were now being strictly enforced; Owen’s score included a win by default against Dubois, which followed a 71-move draw. Boden (who also reported that Deacon had withdrawn to concentrate on the Handicap) approved of Löwenthal’s withdrawal, since it had long since become clear that his onerous duties as manager of the tournament made

it impossible for him to comply with the four-games rule. The tournament book tells us, but without being specific about dates, that there were three retirements: Mr. Robey had lost the majority of his games, and having, therefore, no chance of a prize, resigned. Mr. Löwenthal’s score stood 4 to 0, but the fatigues attending his office resulting in serious indisposition, he was compelled to forfeit all the games he had not played. Mr. Deacon was also suffering from severe illness, he therefore determined to concentrate his energies on the Handicap.38

Since the deadline for The Field was probably the 17th, we can roughly date these withdrawals to about the 16th. Robey had played ten games, including wins against Blackburne and Deacon, so he apparently now forfeited against Dubois and Hannah, in addition to the earlier default against Löwenthal. Deacon had played eight games in all, against seven opponents. He had beaten Green and Blackburne. Since the win by default against Löwenthal made Deacon’s official total 3 points, one can assume that Löwenthal was deemed to have retired first. Deacon had drawn with Barnes and then lost to him, while he had lost at the first time of asking to Anderssen, MacDonnell, Mongredien, and Robey. The players who now scored a win by forfeit without the satisfaction of defeating Deacon were Dubois, Hannah, Owen, Paulsen, and Steinitz. It is difficult to establish how the tournament stood following four weeks of play and these retirements. Now that Löwenthal was out, only Paulsen still had a chance of a tie with Anderssen, who had lost just one game. It is known that the only competitors who played at least one game against all the others were Green and Mongredien. In addition, Anderssen, Barnes, Blackburne, and Owen did not meet Löwenthal but did play everyone else. Anderssen had played only one draw, with Mongredien, winning the replay. Mongredien had played many draws during the tournament, making his progress slower. The third table shows the probable state of the tournament at this point, with wins by forfeit shown as + for the winner and – for the player who withdrew. Boden argued more than once in The Field that Löwenthal’s score should be canceled altogether, as it would be in a modern round-robin tournament, where any player who withdraws before meeting half the opponents is discounted. Not doing so was unfair to Barnes, Green, and Mongredien, whom Löwenthal had beaten.39 The text of the tournament book is completely unhelpful so far as the later play is concerned, giving no results of individual games at all; for these the section of the book with the games scores has to be examined. After the events of the Grand Week, Löwenthal’s book next reported on the Congress dinner, held on 10 July, which Steinitz attended, and the meeting on the new B.C.A. code of chess laws, held on the 17 July. Only six pages after the above paragraph about the earlier withdrawals are we told, on page lxxiii, that: “On

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862 July 21st Mr. Blackburne resigned; and by the end of the month the Grand Tournament was brought to a conclusion.” Coverage of the tournament in the press after the Grand Week was extremely thin also. We know from the tournament book which games were actually played (mostly the scores survive), but not when they were played. Steinitz defeated Robey before the latter withdrew but it is unknown when; nor is Steinitz’s loss to Paulsen dated. Renette places it in the fifth week, making Steinitz Paulsen’s penultimate opponent, with only Blackburne to follow. Dubois says that after the Grand Week he played both Mongredien and Paulsen, but not all his games were described in his memoir and he is (according to Zavatarelli) “completely unreliable concerning the order of his own games.” It was Paulsen’s defeat by Dubois which made it impossible for him to tie with Anderssen for first prize. The sources give no indication of when Blackburne played his two draws with Mongredien, but it was most likely at the London Chess Club a few days after the public week, i.e., on Monday, 7 or Tuesday, 8 July. Both games are likely to have been played on the same day, and Blackburne probably met Paulsen on the other. Paulsen was not yet certain of undivided second place, having drawn their first game. Possibly both the games were in the same sitting if their original scheduled game on 26 June had indeed been postponed. These pairings turned out to be the end of Blackburne’s campaign. He was still due to have a replay with Dubois, and a third game with Mongredien, but these never took place. Boden wrote in The Field on 26 July that Blackburne had scored by default against Dubois, but the committee did not uphold his claim. Maybe Dubois had been granted a post-

47

ponement by the committee and there was a breakdown in communication, but he is silent about this in his memoirs, only saying that Blackburne returned to Manchester. Ultimately the committee awarded the point to the Italian.40 In his final report in The Field of 9 August, Boden was critical of that decision, saying Blackburne had the prior claim, but there is no conclusive evidence. The statement that Blackburne resigned on the 21st probably means that he was asked if he was coming back to London to complete his pairings with Dubois and Mongredien, but wrote back saying he would not. Even had the decision over Dubois gone Blackburne’s way and he had returned to beat Mongredien, the most he could have scored was six points, which would have been insufficient for a prize. The postponed Steinitz versus Mongredien game, which was one of the most spectacular of the whole tournament, was probably played between 8 and 12 July because there was no opportunity to fit it in during the Grand Week. Since Mongredien was president of the London Chess Club, he probably preferred to play all his games there. Steinitz must also have played his game against Paulsen (which he lost) around the same time, but there is no definite evidence about which of them he met first. He must have played Robey before the latter withdrew, and then the retirements of Deacon and Löwenthal probably left Steinitz with more than a week free before Dubois was available to play what was the last game for both of them. Anderssen was hoping to play a match with Paulsen who still had some games to complete. In the meantime, Anderssen played friendly games with whoever was available, including Steinitz. As shown below (Games 69–72), at least two

London 1862 Table 3 (situation after four weeks play and some withdrawals) London 1862 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Anderssen Paulsen Owen MacDonnell Dubois Steinitz Barnes Hannah Löwenthal Blackburne Deacon Mongredien Green Robey

1

2

• 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 – 0 0 =0 0 0

1 • 0 0 1

3

0 1 • 1 = =0 =0 0 0 0 – – =0 1 – – ==0 0 ==0 0 0

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

1 1 0 •

1 0 =

1

1 =1 1 0 =1 1 •

1 1 1 0

+ + + + + + 0 + • + + 0 0 –

1 =1 0 1 = 0 1 1 – • 1

1 + + 1 + + =1 + – 0 • 1 0 1

=1

• 0 1 1 – 0 0 0 0 0

=0 – = –

–

=1 1

• 0 0 – 1 1 0 – =0 P 0 ==0 0 0

1 • – 0 – 0 –

0 1

13

1 1 ==1 ==1 1 1 P 1 1 0 • 1 0

==1 1 1 1 1 1 0 • 0

14

Pts

1 1 1 1 +

12 9 9 8 5 5 6 6 4 4 3 2 2 2

1 + + 0 0 1 1 •

Blank cells mean either the game was not yet played or it is uncertain when it happened. Equal sign means a drawn game (to be replayed). Plus/ minus signs indicate games scored by default or because of withdrawals. There remain some uncertainties.

48

Steinitz in London

unless that was also an unplayed game—and why would of their games can be definitely dated, to the 9th and 10th of Robey have withdrawn if he had already played Dubois and July, although this does not definitely rule out Steinitz’s had only one opponent left to meet? Ergo, Dubois won by having played tournament games earlier on those days. After forfeit against Robey; moreover, Dubois does not even menlosing one game in the final pool of the Handicap, Anderssen tion Robey in his memoirs. settled for third prize without playing any more games, and It follows that 70 pairings were decided by play and 21 by his match with Paulsen was left unfinished. forfeit; the sum of those figures (91) is the correct number Löwenthal says “the Managing Committee met to award of pairings in a 14-person round-robin. It is uncertain how the prizes” on Saturday, 2 August. The ranked table of results many actual games were played. The tournament book has in the book (page lxxiv) is modified here to add a column 17 draws and there could have been a few more, as observed showing how many draws each competitor played. Eighteen above. Two of the decisive games are missing from Löwenthal games are known to have been drawn, including the one and Suhle. Careful comparison of the revised results table between Dubois and Barnes that is missing, but perhaps with the games in these books shows that Hannah’s win there were more. Two numbers are shown in bold as these against Green and Barnes’s win against MacDonnell have correct a Löwenthal error concerning Dubois, commented been lost to posterity. Although some secondary sources on below. have wrongly claimed either that Barnes versus MacDonnell By finishing sixth, Steinitz won the last prize of £5, equivwas not played or else won by the latter, they must have overalent to his entry fee, or as some newspapers put it, “he saved looked that in Boden’s reply to “A.C.” in The Field of 26 July his stake.” The table in the tournament book was the only he did explicitly state that MacDonnell lost to Barnes and occasion when official results made a clear distinction bescored by default of Dubois. Boden said that defaults had tween games won by play and points won by default. been numerous lately and “without inquiring of the players We are accustomed nowadays to see tournament results themselves, we cannot tell who really did best.” It is clear presented as a crosstable but the one to be found in a from the context that Boden had spoken to Anderssen, standard reference work does not seem to be accurate in Paulsen, Owen, and MacDonnell to verify their results, and some details, although one can sympathize with the difficulty the figures only work on that basis. that the compiler, Gino Di Felice, had in trying to get the Dubois was involved in the three most contentious cases matter correct.41 He made one clear mistake when he placed of defaulted games, one decision (discussed above) going in Dubois above MacDonnell, because page lxxiv of Löwenthal his favor and two against. Löwenthal evaded the issue by makes it clear that the tie for fourth was broken in favor saying little about this in print. His tournament book, pubof MacDonnell, on the reasonable grounds that he had lished two years after the events, has only general remarks more wins by actual play and Dubois had more by forfeit. about the forfeited games (on page xciv), not discussing speThe final crosstable offered here shows all the results this cific instances. In The Era of 20 July he wrote that Dubois, author knows of, including draws, and wins and losses by apart from his ill health, “has also had the misfortune to sucforfeit. cumb to some of the technicalities necessarily required for Di Felice shows Steinitz v. Deacon as a played game, but there is no game score and the result tallies in the tournament book only GAMES WON. GAMES LOST. work if Steinitz won by forfeiture. Di Draws Play Forfeit Total Play Forfeit Total Felice was right, though, to show Anderssen 1 11 1 12 1 0 1 Dubois as having five wins by play Paulsen 2 9 2 11 2 0 2 and four by forfeiture. Much as one Owen 6 7 3 10 3 0 3 would like to accept Löwenthal’s offiMacDonnell 0 7 2 9 4 0 4 cial table as authoritative, it clearly Dubois 4 5 4 9 2 2 4 contains a misprint since the total of games shown as won by forfeit is 20 Steinitz 3 6 2 8 5 0 5 but the total lost by default as 21. The Barnes 4 7 0 7 6 0 6 total won by play in that book (71) Hannah 1 4 3 7 6 0 6 also does not agree with the total lost Löwenthal 0 3 1 4 0 9 9 by play (70). These check-sum errors Blackburne 4 3 1 4 7 2 9 are easily corrected by adjusting the Deacon 1 2 1 3 5 5 10 number of wins for Dubois. He cerMongredien 6 2 1 3 10 0 10 tainly scored by forfeit against BlackGreen 4 2 0 2 11 0 11 burne, Deacon, and Löwenthal, but Robey 0 2 0 2 8 3 11 Robey’s total of defaults is not correct

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862

49

London 1862 Table 4 (Final result) London 1862 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Anderssen, K. E. Adolf Paulsen, Louis Owen, John MacDonnell, George A. Dubois, Serafino Steinitz, William Barnes, Thomas W. Hannah, James W. Löwenthal, Johann J. Blackburne, Joseph H. Deacon, Frederic H. Mongredien, Augustus Green, Valentine Robey, James

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

• 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 – 0 0 =0 0 0

1 • 0 0 1 0 =0 0 – =0 – 0 0 0

0 1 • 1 =– =0 0 0 – 1 – ==0 ==0 0

1 1 0 • – 0 1 1 – 0 0 0 0 0

1 0 =+ + • 1 =0 0 – =– – =0 0 –

1 1 =1 1 0 • 0 0 – 1 – 0 ==0 0

1 =1 1 0 =1 1 • =0 1 0 =0 0 0 0

1 1 1 0 1 1 =1 • 0 – 0 0 –

+ + + + + + 0 + • + + 0 0 –

10

11

12

13

14 Pts

1 1 =1 1 1 =1 + 1 1 1 0 + ==1 ==1 1 1 1 1 1 1 =+ + =1 1 + 0 + 1 ==1 1 1 =1 1 1 1 1 + 1 1 + – – 1 1 + • 0 ==– 1 0 1 • 0 1 0 ==+ 1 • 0 1 0 0 1 • 1 1 1 0 0 •

12 11 10 9 9 8 7 7 4 4 3 3 2 2

Plus/minus signs indicate games scored by default or because of withdrawals. Equal signs mean drawn games.

fixing the days of play, and consequently on the score appears a loser in games which were not actually played.” In his memoirs, Dubois gave his side of this story, moaning at length about the two clergymen who claimed against him by default. His first game with Owen was still unfinished after nearly six hours’ play and “you may easily imagine that it wasn’t entirely my fault.” By then they had been left alone and it was nearly midnight. My opponent took his watch from his pocket and, seeing so late an hour, got up from the table and started a train of Jeremiads, saying that his family was waiting for him, that perhaps they were worried for him and the like. I said “Well, we will continue the game tomorrow, if you wish.” But he went on complaining, walking around the room with agitated steps and unable to make up his mind; finally, after having hesitated a while, he refused my proposal. We continued to play, but after a few more moves, which I played very hastily, the game was abandoned as drawn.42

They agreed a date for the replay but Dubois was taken ill again. He wrote that, returning late from the St. James’s Club to his lodgings in Camden Town in the company of Anderssen and Löwenthal, he caught a bad cold and could not go to the venue next day. “In vain I sent a telegram to him in due time to defer the game.” Dubois says that Owen did not deign to respond and eventually claimed the game as won. “Mr. MacDonnell, another reverend, did the same the following day, so imitating his colleague’s charity.”43 One would like to know whether all this happened before or after the incident between Dubois and Blackburne on which Löwenthal seems to have taken the Italian’s side. The behaviour of Owen and MacDonnell is more excusable if they felt they were obtaining some revenge for their countryman.

Steinitz’s Tournament Games 49. K. E. A. Anderssen–Steinitz B.C.A. Grand Tournament, London Chess Club, 17 June 1862 Ruy Lopez (C67) Bachmann (game 6); Löwenthal (game 13), page 28; Suhle (game 4), pages 4–5. I.L.N. 27 June 1862, was the main early source; it was also in The Era, 22 February 1863.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 The Berlin was Steinitz’s principal defense against the Ruy Lopez up to 1866. Thereafter he tried various alternatives and abandoned the Berlin altogether after 1872. 4. 0–0 N×e4 5. d4 Be7 5. … Nd6 is the modern move. 6. d5 Nb8 6. … Nd6 is better as in MacDonnell–Steinitz, Dublin 1865 (Game 149). 7. N×e5 0–0 8. Re1 Nf6 9. Nc3 d6 10. Nf3 c6? 11. Ba4 Bg4 12. Qe2 B×f3 13. g×f3 Re8 14. Bg5 b5 15. B×f6 g×f6 16. d×c6 b×a4 17. c7! Qd7 18. c×b8Q Ra×b8 19. Nd5 Kf8 20. Qe3 Kg7 21. N×e7?! With this and his next, Anderssen lets his advantage slip. 21. Kh1 was correct. 21. … Rb5 22. Nf5†? 22. f4 (Löwenthal) was much better. 22. … R×f5 23. Qd3 Ree5 24. Kh1 Rf4 25. Rg1† Rg5 26. Rg3 Qf5 Not the decisive mistake, as was claimed at the time. 27.  Q×f5 Rf×f5 28.  Rd1 Rb5 29.  b3 a×b3 30. a×b3 Rbc5?! 31. c4 Rc6 32. f4 Rg6 33. f5 Rg5 34. f4 R×g3 35. h×g3 Rc5?? 36. R×d6 R×f5 37. b4 h5 38. Ra6 h4 39. Kg2 h×g3 40. K×g3 Rh5 41. R×a7 I.L.N. ends here “and wins.” 41. … Rh8 42. Rc7 1–0

50. The Rev. G. A. MacDonnell–Steinitz B.C.A. Grand Tournament, Divan, Wednesday, 18 June 1862 Scotch Gambit (C44) Bachmann (game 10); Suhle (game 12), pages 12–13; Löwenthal, game LXXII, pages 144–145. The Era, 22 June 1862,

50

Steinitz in London

52. Steinitz–The Rev. J. Owen

says that on Wednesday, 18th at the Divan two games were played between Steinitz and MacDonnell, but if there had been an earlier game with Steinitz as White, his colors would not balance: he cannot have had White in the first game against eight opponents.

B.C.A. Grand Tournament, probably Saturday, 28 June 1862 Sicilian Defense (B40) Bachmann (game 8); Suhle (game 60), pages 54–55; Löwenthal, game LXXXI, pages 162–163.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. Bc4 Bc5 5. 0–0? d6! 6. c3 Bg4! 7. b4 Suhle: on 7. Qb3 Black should not play 7. … Na5, as Löwenthal thought, but 7. … B×f3. 7. … Bb6 8. a4 a5 9. b5 Ne5 10. Be2 d3 11. B×d3 B×f3 Suhle agreed with Löwenthal that 11. … N×f3† would be stronger. 12. g×f3 Qh4 13. Kh1 B×f2? 14. Ra2! Bb6! 15. Rg2 Nf6 16. Be2! h6 17. f4 Ng6? 18. f5 Ne5? 19. Rf4 Qh3 20. Rg3 Q×g3 21. h×g3 h5 22. Nd2 Nfg4 23. Nc4 Nf2† 24. R×f2 B×f2 25. Bf4 h4 26. g4 f6 27. Qd5 0–0–0 28. Be3 Bg3 29. N×a5 1–0

1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 e6 3. d4 c×d4 4. N×d4 Nf6 5. Nc3 Bb4 6. Bd3 Nc6 7. N×c6 d×c6 8. 0–0 B×c3 9. b×c3 Qa5 10. c4 h6 11. f4 e5 12. f×e5 Q×e5 13. Bf4 Qd4† 14. Kh1 Be6 15. Qe2 Ng4 16. h3 Ne5 17. Rab1 b6 18. Be3 Qd7 19. c5 b5 20. Rfd1 N×d3 21. R×d3 Qc8 22. Qh5 Kf8 23. Rbd1 Kg8 24. Rd8† Q×d8 25. R×d8† R×d8 26. c3 B×a2 27. Bd4 Kh7 28. Qf5† g6 29. Qf2 Be6 30. B×h8 R×h8 31. Qf4 Rc8 32. Kg1 a5 33. Kf2 a4 34. Qc1 Rd8 35. Ke3 Bb3 36. h4 h5 37. Kf4 Rd1 38. Qb2 Rd3 39. Ke5 Kg7 40. Qc1 ½–½

51. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne

Their replay was definitely in the public venue on Monday, the first day of play there.

B.C.A. Grand Tournament, London Chess Club, 23 June 1862 French Defense (C01) The notes in Bachmann (game 14) follow Suhle (game 45), pages 39–41. Also in Löwenthal (game 39) page 80; Graham (game 1); Blackburne (game 46).44 Blackburne stood better for much of the game but the ending was weakly played on both sides, Steinitz missing wins at moves 50 and 52.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. e×d5 e×d5 4. Nf3 Nf6 5. Bd3 Bd6 6. 0–0 h6 7. Re1† Be6 8. Ne5 Nbd7 9. Ng6 f×g6 10. R×e6† Kf7 11. Re1 c6 12. Be3 Qc7 13. Qf3 B×h2† 14. Kh1 Bd6 15. c4 Rhe8 16. c×d5 c×d5 17. Nc3 Nb6 18. Rac1 Qd8 19. g4 a6 20. Rg1 g5 21. Bf5 g6 22. Bb1 Rc8 23. a3 Bb8 24. Ba2 Kg7 25. Kg2 Qd7 26. Kf1 Re7 27. Ke2 Bf4 28. Kd2 Ne4† 29. Kc2 N×c3?! 30. b×c3 Na4 31. Kd2 B×e3† 32. f×e3 Nb6 33. Rgf1 Qd6 34.  Rf2 Rec7 35.  e4 d×e4 36.  Q×e4 Re7 37.  Qf3 Rce8? 38. Rh1?! Qf4†! 39. Q×f4 g×f4 40. Rb1 Nc8 41. Bd5 Nd6 42.  Rb6 Rd8 43.  Re2 R×e2† 44.  K×e2 Rd7?! 45.  c4 g5? 46. Kd3 Kf8 47. Bh1 Ke8 48. a4 Kd8 49. c5 Nf7 (see diagram)

wDwiwDwD DpDrDnDw p$wDwDw0 Dw)wDw0w PDw)w0PD DwDKDwDw wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDB

53. The Rev. J. Owen–Steinitz B.C.A. Grand Tournament, St. James’s Hall, 30 June 1862 Dutch Defense (A10) Bachmann (game 9); Löwenthal (game 82), pages 164–166; Suhle (game 84) pages 78–80; Steinitz threw away a winning position.

1. c4 f5 2. e3 e6 3. a3 Nf6 4. Nc3 Be7 5. Nf3 0–0 6. d4 b6 7. d5 Bd6 8. Bd3 Bb7 9. 0–0 Kh8 10. Bc2 Na6 11. b4 Qe8 12. Bb2 Qh5 13. Nb5 e×d5 14. N×d6 c×d6 15. B×f6 R×f6 16. c×d5 Nc7 17. Bb3 Rh6 18. Rc1 Ne8 19. Rc4 g5 20. h4 g4 21. Ng5 Ba6 22. Rf4 B×f1 Suhle’s suggestion 22. … Ng7 is bad but 22. … Rf6 is better than taking the exchange immediately. 23. R×f5 Rf6 24. Qd4 Qg6 25. Bc2 Qg7 26. R×f6 N×f6 27. K×f1 Re8 28. Qf4 h6 29. Ne4 Rf8 30. Kg1 g3 31. N×g3 Ng4 32. Qd4 Q×d4 33. e×d4 Rc8 34. Bf5 Rc1† 35. Nf1 Nf6 36. f3 N×d5 37. B×d7 Ne3 38. Bb5 Ra1 39. Kf2 N×f1 40. B×f1 R×a3?! 40. … a5 (Löwenthal) would soon establish a decisive passed pawn. 41. b5! Kg7 42. g4 Kf6 43. f4 Rb3 44. Be2 h5 45. g5† Kf5 46. B×h5 K×f4 47. Bf7 (see diagram)

After 49. … Nf7

50.  R×b7? Ne5† 51.  Kc3 N×g4?? 52.  R×d7†?? K×d7 53. d5 h5? 54. d6 Nf2 55. Bb7 h4 56. Kd4 h3 57. Ke5? Nd3†! 58. Kf5 N×c5 59. Bf3 Ne6 60. Kg4 h2 61. Kh3 Nd4 62. Bh1 K×d6 63. K×h2 g4 64. Bb7 a5 65. Bc8 Nf3† 66. Kg2 Nh4† 67. Kg1 g3 68. Bb7 Ke5 69. Kf1 f3 70. Kg1 f4 0–1

After 47. Bf7

wDwDwDwD 0wDwDBDw w0w0wDwD DPDwDw)w wDw)wiw) DrDwDwDw wDwDwIwD DwDwDwDw

47. … Rh3?? Disaster: instead 47. … Rb2†, driving the king to the first rank, followed by …Kf5, would eventually lead to zugzwang and the fall of some White pawns. 48. g6 Rf3† 49. Ke2 Rg3 50. h5 Kf5 51. Kf2 Rg5 52. Kf3 Kf6 53. h6

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862

51

R×b5 54.  Be8 Rg5 55.  g7 b5 56.  Kf4 b4 57.  h7 K×g7 58. K×g5 K×h7 59. Ba4 Kg7 60. Bb3 Kf8 61. Kf6 1–0

page 119; Devidé page 11. The Daily News, 2 July, says this was Steinitz’s fourth tournament game (that is, not counting draws), and the first he won.

The London Standard of 1 July (and some other sources) say that on 30 June “Mr. Wilson won a game from Herr Steinitz” in the handicap, but that is clearly wrong since Steinitz had not entered the Handicap. Moreover, it is known that Steinitz played his game with “Delta” (Game 64) later that day. Most likely the reporter was given incorrect information. As Löwenthal, page lvi, shows, James Wilson Rimington Wilson (1822–1877) had won a game against Solomons in the second round of the Handicap that day. Note also that there are no games on record between Steinitz and Rimington Wilson but Steinitz did play, later in the year, some games with a Dr. Wilson who was also from Yorkshire but a different person (see Games 81–83). The next day Steinitz finally scored an impressive victory.

His non-success had produced an unfavourable opinion of Herr Steinitz’s skill among those who had not watched his play attentively, but the manner in which he contended with Mr. Barnes has not only re-established his reputation, but raised it still higher than before. It required the science of a master to do as he did in this instance, for he gave up piece after piece without hesitation, in order that in the end he might combine those which remained in an overwhelming and relentless force; and although Mr. Barnes had fought his opponent with his usual ingenuity he was obliged to succumb to him, even when he outnumbered his adversary by two pieces.45

54. Steinitz–T. Barnes B.C.A. Grand Tournament, St. James’s Hall, 1 July 1862 Sicilian Defense (B40) Bachmann (game 12); Löwenthal (game 27), pages 56–58; Suhle (game 57); Bird, Chess Masterpieces (game 133),

1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 e6 3. Be2 g6 4. 0–0 Bg7 5. Nc3 a6 6. e5? f5 7. b3 Nh6? 8. Na4 Qc7 9. Ba3 Bf8 10. d4 b6 11. d×c5 b×c5 12. Qd2 Nf7 13. Qc3 Nc6 14. Rfe1 Nf×e5 15. N×e5 N×e5 16. Bc4!? Praised at the time but White could simply play 16. Rad1 with an overwhelming lead in development. 16. … N×c4 17. Q×h8 N×a3 18. Q×h7 Qc6 19. Rad1? This gives the defense a tempo, which should have been used for development; 19. Q×g6† Kd8 20. Qg8 should be played first. 19. … d5? 20. Nb6?! “Nicely conceived” wrote Bird—but unsound and unnecessary. 20. Q×g6† Kd8 21. c4 should win easily. 20. … Q×b6 21. Q×g6† Kd8 22. Qf6† Kc7 The point was 22. … Be7 23. R×d5† but even this is unclear. 23. Q×f8 Qd6 24. Qg7† Bd7 25. c4 d4? The losing move; Bird indicated 25. … Nc2 followed by …Nd4 when Black has the winning chances. 26. b4! Nc2? 26. … c×b4 27. c5 Qd5 was the lesser evil, hoping for 28. R×d4? (28. c6!) 28. … Rg8!=. 27. b×c5 Q×c5 28. R×e6 Qf8 29. Qe5† Kc8 30. Rb1! Nb4 31. Rf6 Qe8 32. Qc5† Nc6 Pickard has the right move in his book but 32. … Bc6 (input error) in his database. 33. Rf8 1–0

55. Steinitz–J. W. Hannah B.C.A. Grand Tournament, London, 2 July 1862 French Defense (C01) Bachmann (game 13); Löwenthal (game 66), pages 128–130; Suhle (game 50). Although The Era, 22 June, shows this game was scheduled for 26 June, it was apparently postponed to 2 July. The Era, 2 February 1863, reported that Washington Hannah, a resident of Brighton for many years, had played in both of the 1862 Congress tournaments despite suffering from heart disease. He died suddenly at his house in Great Ormond Street, London, on 22 January 1863.

Thomas Wilson Barnes, one of the English competitors at London 1862, from the frontispiece of The Westminster Papers, volume VI.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. e×d5 e×d5 4. Bd3 Nf6 5. Nf3 Bd6 6. 0–0 0–0 7. Nc3 Bg4 8. h3 Bh5 9. g4 Bg6 10. Bg5 Be7 11.  Qd2 Nc6 12.  Rae1 Bb4 13.  Ne5 Qd6 14.  B×f6 g×f6 15. N×g6 f×g6 16. Qh6 f5 17. Nb5 Qd7 18. c3 Be7 19. Kh1 Rf6 20. g×f5 Bf8 21. Qh4 Bg7 22. Rg1 a6 23. f×g6? This is both unnecessary and unsound. After 23. Na3 White would have a clear advantage. 23. … h6? There was no good reason to refuse the knight sacrifice. 24. Na3 Rf3 25. Rg3 R×f2 26. Nc2 Re8 27. Reg1 Re6 28. Ne3 Qe7 29. Q×e7 N×e7

52

Steinitz in London

30. R1g2 R×g2 31. K×g2 Bf6 32. Ng4 Bg5 33. h4 B×h4 34. N×h6† Kg7 35. Rh3 K×h6 36. R×h4† Kg5 37. Rh7 N×g6 38. B×g6 K×g6 39. R×c7 Re2† 40. Kf3 R×b2 41. a4 Kf5 42. Rc5 Ke6 43. a5 Kd6 44. Kf4 Ra2 45. Ke3 White offered a draw with this move. 45. … Ra3 46. Kf4 Ra4 Bachmann omits the repetition sequence at moves 45–47 so his subsequent move numbering is wrong. 47. Ke3 Ra3 48. Kf4 Rb3 49. Ke3 Rb5?? Throwing away the draw. 50. R×b5 a×b5 51.  Kf4 Kc6 52.  Ke5 b4 53.  c×b4 Kb5 54.  K×d5 K×b4 55. Ke6 K×a5 56. d5 b5 57. d6 1–0

56. V. Green–Steinitz B.C.A. Grand Tournament, London (7.1), 4 July? 1862 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann (game 16); Suhle (game 11), pages 11–12; Löwenthal, pages 115–116. The latter book also says (page lxiv) in reference to 5 July that “there was also another contest … between Messrs. V. Green and Steinitz, which terminated in favour of the latter.” The games are not described but it is known they played three, Green having White in two of them. Possibly all were played on the same day, but while it is known that the deciding game was on Saturday 5th, Games 56 and 57 were more likely played earlier in the week, especially as Steinitz was otherwise occupied later on the 5th as explained below. This game must have been the first of the three.

Steinitz played aggressively at move 12 (instead of the normal 12. … c6). In the sequel he was often close to lost but was spared by Green’s inaccurate play. 1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  Bc4 Bc5 4.  c3 Nf6 5.  d4 e×d4 6. c×d4 Bb4† 7. Bd2 B×d2† 8. Nb×d2 d5 9. e×d5 N×d5 10.  Qb3 Nce7 11.  0–0 0–0 12.  Rfe1 Nf4?! 13.  Re4 Neg6 14. Rae1 Bf5 15. R4e3 Qd6 16. Ne5 N×e5 17. R×e5 Bg6 18. Nf3 Kh8 19. Qe3?! Nh5 20. Re8 Ra×e8 21. Q×e8 Nf6 22. Qe7 h6 23. Q×d6 c×d6 24. h3 Re8 25. R×e8† N×e8 26. Kf1 Kg8 27. Nd2 Kf8 28. Ke2 Ke7 29. Ke3 Nc7 30. f4 d5 31. Bd3 B×d3 32. K×d3 Kf6 33. Ke3 Ne6 34. Nf3 g5 35.  g3 h5 36.  f×g5† N×g5 37.  N×g5 K×g5 38.  Kf3 Kf5 39. Ke3 Kg5 40. Kf3 h4 41. g4 ½–½

57. Steinitz–V. Green B.C.A. Grand Tournament, London (7.2), 4 July? 1862 King’s Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 17); Löwenthal (game 60), pages 117–119; Suhle (game 27), pages 25–26; D.S.Z. XIX (November 1864) page 378; Neumann and Suhle, Neueste Theorie (game 288), page 421. This must have been the second of the three games with Green; Steinitz had another lucky escape.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Qe7 This had been played in the fourth game of the Harrwitz–Löwenthal match of 1853, but according to GM John Shaw’s mammoth tome on the King’s Gambit

(page 30), it is inaccurate. 9. 0–0 Harrwitz had played 9. B×f4 and this was what Steinitz chose against Green in their 1864 match (Game 124). 9. … Nh5 Shaw says that Black must play 9. … B×e5 “otherwise the Queen has been placed on a vulnerable square for no reason” but then 10. d×e5 Qc5† 11. Kh2! is good for White. 10. Re1? Shaw did not say how Black’s last move should have been punished; Stockfish 10 is keen on 10. N×g4! 10. … 0–0! 11. Ng6? 11. N×g4 was less dangerous than winning the exchange. 11. … Qf6 12. N×f8 K×f8 13. c3? Q×h4 14. Nd2 f3 15. N×f3! g×f3 16. Bh6† Ng7 17. B×g7† K×g7 18. Q×f3 Bg4 19. Qe3 Bg3 20. Be2 Qh2† 20. … Bf5! is even stronger. 21. Kf1 Qh1† 22. Qg1 Q×g1† 23. K×g1 B×e1 24. B×g4 Bg3 25. Bc8 Na6? Black throws away the win. 25. … a5 would retain the advantage of the piece and must win the game (D.S.Z.) 26.  B×b7 Rb8 27. B×a6 R×b2 28. Bc4 ½–½

58. V. Green–Steinitz B.C.A. Grand Tournament, London, Saturday, 5 July 1862 Sicilian Defense (B40) Bachmann (game 18); Löwenthal (game 61), pages 119–120; Suhle (game 59), pages 53–54.

1. e4 c5 Steinitz nearly always replied 1. … e5. We have found only four games where he employed the Sicilian Defense and this is the first. He played it twice at Paris 1867 and also in an 1882 blindfold game against Meitner. 2. Nf3 e6 3. Nc3 d5? 4. e×d5 e×d5 5. d4 Be6 6. Bb5† Probably even stronger is 6. Be3 as L. Paulsen played in his match with Kolisch. 6.  … Nc6 7.  0–0 Nf6 8.  Re1 Be7 9.  Be3 Ng4 10. d×c5? N×e3 11. f×e3 B×c5 12. Nd4 Qd6 13. N×e6 f×e6 14. Qg4 0–0 15. B×c6 b×c6 16. Kh1 Rf2 17. Rad1 Raf8 18. h3 Not 18. Ne4?? d×e4 19. R×d6 Rf1† and mates. 18. … Qe5 19. e4 h5 20. Qh4 Bd6 21. g3 d4 22. Ne2 g5 23. Q×h5 Q×e4† and Black mates in two moves (0–1). Steinitz played his next three tournament games after the Grand Week, but definite information about the sequence is lacking.

59. Steinitz–J. Robey B.C.A. Grand Tournament, London, July 1862 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Bachmann (game 19); Suhle (game 36), pages 32–33; Löwenthal (game 85), pages 170–172; Neumann and Suhle (game 300), page 432; Devidé page 13.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6 4. c3 Bg4 5. Be2 Nc6 6. b4 Bb6 7. a4 a6 8. d3 Qe7 9. Na3 Nf6 10. Nc4 B×f3 11. B×f3 Ba7 12.  b5 Nd8 13.  b×a6 b×a6 14.  Ne3 0–0 15.  f5 Rb8 16. 0–0 Nc6 17. Kh1 Na5 18. Ng4 N×g4 19. B×g4 f6 20. Ba3 Rb7 21.  Qc2 Rfb8 22.  Rab1 Qe8 23.  h3 R×b1 24.  R×b1 R×b1† 25. Q×b1 Q×a4 26. Bb4 Nc6 27. Bd1 Qb5 28. Qa2† Kf8 29. Qe6 N×b4 30. Bh5 g6 31. f×g6 h×g6 32. B×g6 Kg7 … (1–0)

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862

53

Augustus Mongredien (right), president of London Chess Club and one of Steinitz’s leading supporters during his early years in London, with veteran chess writers George Walker (center) and William Lewis. (From F. W. Edge’s book about Paul Morphy’s 1858/9 European tour.)

Suhle (who is cited by ChessBase) stops with a diagram after 32.  … Kg7, saying White mates in five. However, Löwenthal wrote: “Mate was here effected by Mr. Steinitz in nine moves, overlooking an easy one in five, thus:” 33. Qf7† Kh6 34. Qh7† Kg5 (best) 35. g3 “and mate is inevitable in two more moves.” Evidently this final sequence was unplayed, and nobody published the actual nine-move mate employed by Steinitz.

60. Steinitz–A. Mongredien B.C.A. Grand Tournament, London, July 1862 Scandinavian Defense (B01) Bachmann (game 15); Löwenthal (game 78), pages 157–159; Suhle (game 52), page 47; I.L.N., 2 August 1862; C.P.C. (1862) pages 315–316; Kasparov, My Great Predecessors I, pages 50–51; Neumann and Suhle (game 302). Also in G. R. Neumann, Das Schachspiel (page 50); N.B.S.Z., I (May 1864) page 134; Howard Taylor, Chess Brilliants, game LXIX, page 71; Devidé page 14; Neishtadt pages 28–32.

The Era, 22 June, said this game (and also Deacon–Blackburne) was scheduled to be played at the London Chess Club on Tuesday, 24 June. But The Field of 28 June shows no result

for either Steinitz or Mongredien, implying the game must have been postponed. Zavatarelli has worked out that it cannot have been played earlier than 8 July or later than 12 July, by matching the scores of players reported in successive columns and knowing their previous results with other players. This brilliant win is one of the best known games from Steinitz’s early career. 1. e4 d5 2. e×d5 Q×d5 3. Nc3 Qd8 4. d4 e6 5. Nf3 Nf6 6. Bd3 Be7 7. 0–0 0–0 8. Be3 b6 Blackburne–Mongredien went instead 8. … a6 9. Ne5 b5 10. f4 Bb7 11. f5 Nbd7 12. Ne2 Nd5 13. Bf4 c5 and after a complicated struggle, it ended in a 52-move draw. 9.  Ne5 Bb7 10.  f4 Nbd7 11.  Qe2 Nd5 12. N×d5 e×d5 13. Rf3 f5! 14. Rh3 g6 15. g4 Today it would be considered wise to develop the second rook and build up slowly before launching an attack but Steinitz probably wanted to make his pawn break before Black could play …Nf6. 15. … f×g4? Better 15. … N×e5 16. f×e5 Bc8 (Neumann and Suhle) “and White has absolutely nothing”—Kasparov. 16. R×h7!? Simply 16. Q×g4 is decisive but Steinitz’s dramatic combination is why the game made a huge favorable impression on his contemporaries, as can be seen

54

Steinitz in London

from Staunton’s notes in the I.L.N. 16. … N×e5 If 16. … K×h7 17. Q×g4. 17. f×e5 K×h7 There are alternatives but Kasparov shows how they lose. 18. Q×g4 Rg8? This loses instantly. 19. Qh5† Kg7 20. Qh6† Not 20. Q×g6†?? Kh8! 20. … Kf7 21. Qh7† Ke6 22. Qh3† Kf7 23. Rf1† A slight inaccuracy; 23. e6†! forces mate in eight. 23. … Ke8 24. Qe6 Rg7 25. Bg5 Qd7 26. B×g6† R×g6 27. Q×g6† Kd8 28. Rf8† Qe8 29. Q×e8 mate (1–0).

61. Steinitz–L. Paulsen B.C.A. Grand Tournament, London, July 1862 Sicilian Defense (B27) Bachmann (game 7); Renette, Louis Paulsen (game 218, pages 138–139), has notes based on Staunton in I.L.N. (6 September 1862) and Löwenthal (game 84). The game is also in D.S.Z. XVII (September 1862), pages 280–281, and Suhle (game 63). In this, their first meeting, Steinitz came close to victory but a blunder at move 47 gifted Paulsen the point.

1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 g6 3. Nc3 Bg7 4. Bc4 Nf6 5. e5 Ng8 Not 5. … Ng4 because of 6. B×f7† as Staunton pointed out. 6. 0–0 Nc6 7.  Qe2 Nh6 8.  Ne4! 0–0 9.  N×c5 d5 10.  Bb5 Qb6 11. Na4 Qa5 12. d4 Nf5 13. c3 Bd7 14. B×c6 14. b4 (Löwenthal) would be met by 14. … Nc×d4 (Suhle) though White still stands better. 14. … B×c6 15. Nc5 Bb5 16. Nd3 Qa6 17. Rd1 e6 18. g4 Ne7 19. g5 Nf5 20. Qc2 Rac8 21. a4 Be8 22. b3 Bd7 23. Ba3 Rfd8 24. h4 Qc6 25. Bb2 Qb6 26. Nc5 Be8 27. Kg2 Qc7 28. b4 Qe7 29. h5 g×h5 30. Rh1 h4 31. Qd2 h6 32. Rag1 h×g5 33. Kf1 b6 34. Nd3 f6 35. e×f6 Q×f6 36. Nde5 Bh5 37. N×g5 Rc7 38. Ke1 Rf8 39. Rh2 a5 40. b5 Qh6 41. Bc1 Qf6 42. Nh3 Rfc8 43. Nf4 Be8 44. Bb2 Nd6! 45. Rhg2 Qf5! 46. Qe3!? 46. Rg5! or 46. f3 would be stronger but this is good enough, although Staunton misidentified it as the losing move. 46. … Qb1† 47. Bc1?? The correct interposition was 47. Qc1 (Löwenthal). Nf5 48. Qd2 R×c3 49. R×g7† N×g7 50. R×g7† K×g7 51. N×e6†? D.S.Z. said 51. Nh5† would retain drawing chances but 51. … Kf8 keeps a winning position for Black. 51. … Kg8 0–1. Although ChessBase Mega Database 2017 cites Suhle, their extra move pair 52.  Qg5† Bg6 is not in either tournament book. It appears to stem from Bachmann. Steinitz wrote an obituary of Paulsen in the New York Daily Tribune of 23 August 1891 which was reprinted in International Chess Magazine. Among other things he wrote of Paulsen’s originality: Herr Paulsen was a genius of an order which is now becoming generally recognized after having passed the usual transition period of public derision and depreciation. He was one of the chief pioneers of the modern school which has been so much decried during its advance, but has established itself victoriously after a hard struggle against a sort of sentimental opposition. So far from my wishing to be intolerant against the adverse critics of the modern principles, I

freely beg to state that in the early part of my career I myself was an absolute believer in the old system, and I well recollect that when I first met Kolisch and Anderssen I expressed myself in very derogatory terms about Paulsen’s style of play. But both those masters warmly defended Paulsen against my general criticism and this set me thinking. Some of the games which I saw Paulsen play at the London Congress of 1862 gave a still stronger start to the modification of my own opinions, which has since developed, and I began to recognize that Chess genius is not confined to the more or less deep and brilliant finishing strokes after the original balance of power has been overthrown, but that it also requires the exercise of still more extraordinary powers, though perhaps of a different kind, to maintain that balance or respectively to disturb it at the proper time in one’s own favor.46

Steinitz went on to say that whereas Morphy never ventured on opening experiments, Paulsen “struck at the root of the game in different openings, and in an original manner he paved the way to the development of principles in the middle part and in the ending which generated position judgment and helped to dispense with mere combination tactics.” At some point during the fourth week, Deacon, Robey and Löwenthal announced their withdrawals. As a result Steinitz scored two points by default in games where he had been due to play Black.

62a. F. H. Deacon–Steinitz B.C.A. Grand Tournament, London 1862

0–1: This game was scheduled but postponed. Eventually Deacon withdrew and Steinitz won by default.

62b. J. J. Löwenthal–Steinitz B.C.A. Grand Tournament, London 1862

0–1: This game was apparently never scheduled. Steinitz won by default. Dubois said his last game of the tournament was the one he lost to Steinitz and it must have been Steinitz’s last one too. He also says that Steinitz drank alcohol during their tournament game: “…the more he knocked back sherry, the more his imagination became bright and brilliant.”47 Zavatarelli estimates that the game was played on 24 July, for two reasons. Firstly, Dubois wrote, “[Steinitz] defeated me in an even brilliant manner…. The ringleaders of the London Club desired a match to the fifth win between us and I, dead tired by the uncommon toils of the tournament, had the tomfoolery to accept,”48 which induces us to believe that the match began immediately after the tournament game. Secondly, in the I.L.N. of 26 July the announcement that the tournament had finished can be found on page 3, while the chess column is on page 22, a sign that it was breaking news and that the Dubois–Steinitz game had just been played.49 The match between Steinitz and Dubois (Games 71–79) indeed followed immediately.

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862

63. S. Dubois–Steinitz B.C.A. Grand Tournament, London (10), 24? July 1862 Giuoco Piano (C50) There has been considerable debate about this game. Many books and databases have a mistake at move 22, while some secondary sources have transposed Black’s moves four and five, and even stated Black's third move was 3. … Nf6. The trustworthy score may be found in Löwenthal (game 50), pages 102–104; Suhle (game 10), pages 10–11; Devidé, pages 15–17, and also Hooper (game 14). Both tournament books have 22. Qe2 but Staunton was sent a copy of the game with 22. Qe1 (which would have allowed Black a rapid mate) and published it in the I.L.N., 2 August 1862, whence it was taken up by D.S.Z. (1862) before the tournament books appeared. Bachmann (game 11) followed Staunton and so a serious error became perpetuated. Despite Devidé’s best efforts, the mistake was copied in Réti’s Masters of the Chess Board and on to Neishtadt, pages 32– 36, and Pritchett (game 2), pages 17–23. Some books have detailed analyses of the game which are marred by this mistake.50 As with several other games, Pickard had the correct score in his printed collection but a mistake in his database.

It is not the role of the present work to delve into a detailed analysis of the tactics in this famous game, but some points are worth making. Firstly, Dubois made an unlucky choice of opening. The greater part of his brief 1845 openings book, Les Principales Ouvertures du Jeu des Echecs,51 published in French and Italian, dealt with the King’s Gambit which he played just once against Steinitz (Game 73). The only line of the Giuoco Piano in the Dubois book began with 4. c3 Qe7. Probably he had just changed his opening tastes in the intervening period or was he worried that Steinitz had studied his book? Dubois played into a line which Steinitz had analyzed deeply following the Kolisch–Paulsen match of 1861. In a retrospective article in 1910, Hoffer recalled: There is another curious fact, Steinitz finding that Paulsen could have won the Giuoco Pianos which ended in draws. Needless to add that this occurred twelve months later, otherwise Steinitz, who was no friend of Kolisch’s, nor of any of his rivals for the matter of that, would have imparted the treasure trove to Paulsen. Löwenthal, however, who was the chess editor of the Era, worked out the complete analysis….52

Löwenthal’s published analysis dealt with 9. N×g5, which loses quickly, but the trap was not sprung until 1868 when an amateur named Lamb fell into it against Steinitz (see Game 294). Instead Dubois improved by 9. h4 but Steinitz had analyzed that also and Black rapidly seized the initiative. Much later, Steinitz published his analysis of the 6. Bg5 variation in his Modern Chess Instructor.53 Computer engines find improvements for both sides in the opening. 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. 0–0 Nf6 ChessBase and Pickard’s database (although not his book) have the incorrect

55

move order 4. … d6 5. d3 Nf6. 5. d3 d6 6. Bg5 h6 7. Bh4 g5 Steinitz aims to improve on 7. … Bg4 as played in Kolisch– Paulsen, 20th match game 1861. Wei Yi–Grischuk, World Team Championship, Astana 2019, varied with 7. … a6 and ended in a draw; 7. … Na5 has also been seen in some recent games. 8. Bg3 h5!? 8. … Na5 is objectively best. 9. h4! Correct; see Game 294 for 9. N×g5, while if 9. h3 h4 10. Bh2 g4 11. h×g4 (11. Ng5 Rf8) 11. … N×g4 “with a strong attack”—Steinitz, Instructor. 9. … Bg4!? Dangerous but not completely sound; perhaps Dubois had prepared only for 9. … g4 because he now went downhill fast. 10. c3 10. Nbd2 was also good, but not 10. h×g5 h4!. 10. … Qd7 11. d4? Pritchett shows that Black would have trouble justifying his play after 11. Nbd2 or 11. b4!? Bb6 12. Nbd2. 11. … e×d4 12. e5 d×e5?! 12. … Ne4 is much better says Pritchett; if 13. Bh2 0–0–0. 13. B×e5 N×e5 14. N×e5 Qf5! 15. N×g4? After 15. Qa4† Kf8 16. N×f7 g×h4 17. N×h8 h3 Black may be better but there is no obvious win says Pritchett. 15.  … h×g4 16.  Bd3 Qd5 17.  b4 0–0–0! 18.  c4 Qc6 19. b×c5 R×h4 20. f3 Rdh8 21. f×g4 Qe8 (see diagram) Here Staunton observed that the manuscript he received had 21. … Qe6 but “as White could then play 22. Bf5, winning the Queen, we have little doubt the move really made was that we have substituted.” Both tournament books also have “Q to K sq.” There have been two suggestions for improvement: 21. … Kb8! and if 22. Bf5 d3 (Pritchett) and 21. … Ne4! (ChessBase).

After 21. … Qe8

wDkDqDw4 0p0wDpDw wDwDwhwD Dw)wDw0w wDP0wDP4 DwDBDwDw PDwDwDPD $NDQDRIw

22. Qe2? White could have saved himself by 22. Bf5†! Kb8 23. Re1 Qc6 24. Nd2 when Pritchett says Black has no better than a draw by 24. … Rh1† 25. Kf2 Q×g2† 26. K×g2 R8h2†. The sources giving 22. Qe1 continue 22. … Qe3† 23. Q×e3 transposing to the actual game, but Steinitz would instead have been able to deliver checkmate in seven moves starting 22. … Rh1†! 23. Kf2 R×f1† 24. B×f1 N×g4†. It is unlikely he would have overlooked this. 22. … Qe3† 23. Q×e3 d×e3 24. g3 Rh1† 25. Kg2 R8h2† 26. Kf3 R×f1† 27. B×f1 Rf2† I.L.N. ends here prematurely, saying “And White abandoned the game.” 28. K×e3 R×f1 29. a4 Kd7 30. Kd3 N×g4 31. Kc3 Ne3 32. Ra2 R×b1 33. Rd2† Kc6 34. Re2 Rc1† 35. Kd2 Rc2† 36. K×e3 R×e2† 37. K×e2 f5 0–1 White resigned here but Bachmann et al. add two further move pairs: 38. Ke3 K×c5 39. Kd3 f4 for which we found no evidence.

56

Steinitz in London

Aside from the Tournament Steinitz played some other games in June and July apart from the tournament. In most cases these cannot be precisely dated. The story of the next game was told by the Scottish clergyman “Delta” (as he was known in the chess world), when he wrote his chess reminiscences. Donaldson wrote a series of articles, which appeared in the I.L.N. on several weeks between 20 September 1879 and 24 April 1880. The paragraph below was included in the last of those. It shows the game was played on 30 June, which other sources confirm was the date of the Anderssen–Paulsen tournament game. In 1862, at the London Exhibition time, I watched with much interest at the London Club a match game between Andersen [sic] and Paulsen—they were well matched. “Arcades ambo!” I then opened a K. B. Gambit on Steinitz, and after a somewhat inglorious beginning on my part, had at last a virtually won game. I had, however, an important engagement at the West-End, and in consequence I played some hurried moves, which lost me my advantage. The game thus broken off, “Abgebrocken” [sic], was published in the Berlin Schachzeitung. Steinitz at that time was considered by the “knowing ones” to be quite inferior to Andersen [sic]; but if he were so then he afterwards more than made up his leeway. My game with Steinitz was the only game which I played at London in 1862.

Towards the end of his life, “Delta” rewrote his reminiscences in a single article which appeared in B.C.M., I (October 1881), pages 450–459. On page 458 a slightly different version of the story was told, in which Delta said he also played a drawn game with Anderssen in London, and he regretted that he took no note of it. In London, at the Exhibition of 1862, I played only two games in all, as I had Scotch ladies to look after! One game was with Steinitz. After sacrificing a piece, I had a won game, but as I had to leave for dinner in the West End, I foolishly made two or three hurried moves, which enabled him to escape with a draw. I did not take the game down, as I had so little time to play it properly, but as after all, it turned out to be an interesting Gambit, I asked Steinitz next day if he could play it over from memory (I could not); he said, “O ja, Mein Herr,” and rapidly penned it off from memory.

64. The Rev. John Donaldson (“Delta”)–Steinitz Casual game, London Chess Club, 30 June 1862 King’s Bishop’s Gambit (C33) Bachmann (game 26) no doubt found this in D.S.Z., XVII (1862), page 328, as both sources said that the game was played in August. Bell’s Life in London, 26 July 1863, published the score later, saying the game was played at the London Chess Club on Cornhill but giving no date.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Bc4 d5 4. e×d5 Qh4† 5. Kf1 g5 6. d4 Bd6 7. Nf3 Qh5 8. h4 g4 9. Ng5 h6 10. Ne4 f5 11. Nf2? Stockfish does not entirely agree with Delta’s account of what was happening in this game. It says this move gives away White’s large advantage and much prefers 11. N×d6† c×d6

12. Qe1† or 11. Bb5†. 11. … Nf6 12. Qe2†? Better 12. Nd3; now Black was winning. 12. … Kd8 13. Nc3 Re8 14. Qd1 Ne4 15. Nc×e4 f×e4 16. Be2 f3 17. g×f3 g×f3 18. Bb5 e3 19. Qd3 e×f2? The engine says that 19. … Bf5 or 19. … c6 should have won but now White is back in the game. 20. B×e8 Q×e8?! 21. B×h6 Bg4? 22. K×f2 Nd7 23. Rae1 Qh5 24. Bg5† Kc8 25. Re3 25. Rhg1 or 25. Qe4 would be even stronger. 25. … c5?! Now White should play 26. d×c6 or even 26. d×c5. 26. c3 Kc7 27. b4? Playing rapidly, both sides make serious mistakes. 27. … b6? 27. … c×b4 was necessary and good for Black. 28. Qb5 Nb8 29. b×c5 Bf8 30. Rhe1 Bd7 31. Re7 B×e7 32. R×e7 Qg4 33. c×b6†?? Several moves preserve the winning position, e.g., 33. Rf7 or 33. a4. 33. … a×b6 34. d6† Kb7 35. Qd5† Nc6 36. R×d7† Q×d7 37. K×f3 Rf8†… (unfinished) “Here the game was broken off,” says Bachmann following the Schachzeitung. The game is usually stated to be “No result” though Pickard stated 0–1, following B.L.L., which at the end said “Ultimately won by Steinitz.” However, although it is true the final position is clearly winning for Black, we should be kind to Delta’s memory and accept his testimony, recording this as a draw.

65. Steinitz, J. Kling and Chevalier de St. Bon– F. Deacon, G. W. Medley and G. Walker “Foreigners v. English” consultation game, St. James’s Hall, London, 3 July 1862 Modern Defense (B06) Bachmann (game 20), Löwenthal pages 344–346, B.L.L. (Walker), 20 July 1862, and C.P.C. (1862), pages 216–217. There are many erroneous versions of the score; this account follows the official tournament book. Walker introduced the game as follows: “…at St. James’s Hall during the International Chess Tournament, between Messrs. Medley, Deacon, and George Walker, with Black pieces, in consultation, against the Chevalier de St. Bon, Steinitz, and Kling, who gained first move by lot.” The colors have been normalized.54 Pickard’s database and book call this game “Steinitz & Allies v. Deacon & Allies.” The Morning Advertiser report on 4 July was probably written by somebody who knew little of the finer points of chess. It said the game began about 4 p.m. and lasted about seven hours: There was some exceedingly brilliant playing. The foreign gentlemen, by some trivial oversight, were unfortunate enough to lose a Bishop at a very critical period, and it was in retrieving this mishap that they showed their scientific resources. Herr Steinitz, in particular, fought against the difficulty with amazing cleverness, and gained high encomiums.

1. e4 g6 2. f4 e6 3. Nf3 c5 4. d4 d5 5. Nc3 Bg7 6. e×d5 e×d5 7. d×c5 B×c3† 8. b×c3 Ne7 9. Be3 9. Bd3 Nbc6 10. Be3 0–0 11. 0–0 Nf5 12. Bf2 Re8 13. Qd2 Be6 14. Bb5 is the version

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862 in C.P.C. 9. … 0–0 10. Be2 Nbc6 11. 0–0 Nf5 12. Bf2 Re8 13. Qd2 Be6 14. Bb5 Now the two versions coincide. 14. … Qc7 15. B×c6 b×c6 16. g4 Ng7 Bachmann, Pickard and many databases have 16.  … Ne7 instead, an error apparently derived from Neumann and Suhle’s aforementioned book.55 After Black’s 20th move the versions coincide. 17. f5 g×f5 18. Qh6 f6 19. g5 f4 20. Bd4 Nf5 21. Q×f6 N×d4 22. N×d4 Bh3 23. Q×f4 Qd7 24. Rfe1 R×e1† 25. R×e1 Rf8 26. Qg3 Qe7 27.  Kh1 Qd7 28.  g6 h5 29.  g7 f6 30.  Qb8† K×g7 31. Rg1† Bg4 32. h3 Qe7 33. Qg3 Qe4† 34. Kh2 Qh7 35. Re1 Qh6 36. h×g4 h4 37. Qe5 Kg8 38. Nf5 Qf8 39. Qe8 1–0. C.P.C. has the illegal “Q to Q eighth.” The first volume of Chess Player’s Magazine (1863, page 40), says that Game 68 below was a previously unpublished game played at the Grand Cigar Divan in July 1862 during the London Congress, “together with some five or six others, of which Professor Anderssen, we are informed, came off victorious by a large majority.” It stated that the others had already appeared “in the papers” but Bachmann found only two others, and Game 66 makes a fourth. In three of these Steinitz was White. So there are possibly a couple more yet to be found, probably with Anderssen as White.

66. Steinitz–K. E. A. Anderssen Casual game, Simpson’s Divan, 9 July 1862 Muzio Gambit (C37) This game, not in the usual collections, was first published in Waldheim’s Illustrirte Zeitung (no. 35 for 30 August 1862, pages 419–420), and rediscovered independently in 2018 by Anderberg and the author of this book.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. 0–0 g×f3 6. Q×f3 Qe7 7. d4 Nc6 8. Nc3 N×d4 9. Qd3? After Game 67, 9. Q×f4 was generally recommended. There is a lot about this in Neumann and Suhle’s book but the present game seems to have been overlooked, probably because Anderssen improved on it. 9. … Ne6 10. Nd5 Qc5† 11. Kh1 b5 12. Bb3 Bg7 12. … Bh6 was played next day in the well-known game won by Anderssen, which Waldheim’s column published the following week. 13. N×f4 Ne7 14. Be3 Qe5 15. Nd5 Qd6 16. Rf5 Ng6 17.  Raf1 0–0 18.  Rh5 Bb7 19.  Rf3 Rae8 20.  Rfh3 B×d5 21. R×d5 Qc6 22. e5 d6 23. Qf5 h6 24. B×h6 B×h6 25. R×h6 Ng7 26. Qg4 Waldheim’s: If 26. R×g6 f×g6 27. R×d6† Kh8 28. Qh3† Nh5 and Black wins. Or if 26. Q×g6 f×g6 27. R×d6† Ne6 and wins. 26. … N×e5 27. Qg5 Nd3? “An oversight. 27. … Nc4 would have decided the game favorably for Black.” Even after this, there is a narrow path to victory, and Black’s strongest move was 27. … Ng4! 28. h3 Re1† 29. Kh2 Nf2?? The final blunder; Black would still have an advantage after 29. … Qb6 30. R×d3 Qg1† 31. Kg3 when the unique winning line is 31. … Re2! 32. Bd5 c6 (driving the B off the b2–g8 diagonal) 33. B×c6 Re5 34. Qg4 Qc1!! 30. Qh4 Rh1† 31. Kg3 Nf5† 32. R×f5 Ne4† 33. Q×e4 1–0

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67. Steinitz–K. E. A. Anderssen Casual game, Simpson’s Divan, 10 July 1862 Muzio Gambit (C37) This well-known game was number 21 in the second edition of Bachmann; in his first edition it was number 23. It was first published roughly simultaneously in D.S.Z., XVII (September 1862, pages 276–277) and in Waldheim’s Illustrirte Zeitung (no. 36 for 6 September 1862), which says it was played on 10 July 1862, i.e., one day after the previous game. It was later republished in N.B.S.Z., I (1864) game 187, pages 371–372, with notes from G. R. Neumann’s Leitfaden für Anfanger im Schachspiel, and also in Neumann and Suhle (game 178), pages 256–258.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. 0–0 g×f3 6. Q×f3 Qe7 7. d4 Nc6 8. Nc3 N×d4 9. Qd3? Ne6 10. Nd5 Qc5† 11.  Kh1 b5 12.  Bb3 Bh6 Instead of 12.  … Bg7 which Anderssen had played in Game 66. 13. Bd2 Qf8! 14. Qc3 Qg7 15. N×c7† N×c7 16. Q×c7 Ne7 17. Bc3 f6 18. e5 Rf8 19. Rae1 Ba6 20. e×f6?! 20. e6 (D.S.Z.) was much stronger. 20. … R×f6 21. Bb4 Rc6 22. Qa5 Bg5 23. B×e7? White missed a difficult win by 23. R×f4! B×f4 24. R×e7† Q×e7 25. B×e7 K×e7 26. Qb4† Bd6 27. Qh4† Ke8 28. Qf6. 23. … B×e7 24. R×f4 Rf6 25. Qc3 Kd8 26. Qa5† Kc8 27. Bd5!? Rb8 Waldheim’s stopped here, saying Black won quickly, but the decisive moment came next move. 28. Rfe4? This was the last chance, overlooked by contemporary commentators, to play 28. R×e7! Q×e7 29. Qc3†, retaining winning chances. The text move (and everything else) loses. 28. … Rbb6 29. h3 Rfe6. 30. B×e6 d×e6 31. a4 b4 32. Qh5 Bd8 33. Rd1 Qe7 34. Red4 Bc7 35. Rg4 Kb7 36. Rg8 Rc6 37. Qf3 Bc4 38.  Rg4 Pickard (book and CD) wrongly had Rg5 here. 38. … Bd5 39. Qe2 Qd6 40. Kg1 Qh2† 41. Kf1 Bb6 0–1

68. K. E. A. Anderssen–Steinitz Casual game, Simpson’s Divan, July 1862 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 23; number 22 in first edition) from C.P.M. I (1863) page 40. Some databases have instead 5. … Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 Bb6 8. c×d4 d6, a common alternative route to reach what used to be called the “Normal Position” in the Evans.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. d5 Nce7 10. e5 Ng6 11. Bb2 N8e7 12. Qa4† Bd7 13. Qa3 d×e5 14. N×e5 0–0 15. Qc3 Nf5 16. N×d7 Q×d7 17. g4 Bd4 18. Qc2 B×b2 19. Q×b2 Nfh4 20. f3 N×f3† 21. Kh1 Nfe5 22. Bb3 Q×g4 23. Nd2 Nd3 24. Qc3 Nh4 0–1

69. Steinitz–K. E. A. Anderssen Casual game, Simpson’s Divan, July 1862 Giuoco Piano (C50) In Bachmann’s first edition this was game 21 on page 30 but

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Steinitz in London

in his second edition it became game 22 on page 28, with notes from The Era, 4 October 1863, which overlook Steinitz’s missed opportunity.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. d3 d6 5. Nf3 Nc6 6. 0–0 Bg4 7. Be3 a6 8. Kh1 Ba7 9. Rg1 h6 10. h3 Bh5 11. g4 Bg6 12. Ne2 d5 13. e×d5 N×d5 14. B×a7 R×a7 15. d4 Nb6 16. Bb3 h5 17. g5? Qd7 18. Kh2 e×d4 19. Ne×d4 Qd6† 20. Kg2 0–0 21. Ne2 Qc5 22. Re1 Raa8 23. Nf4 Rad8 (see diagram)

wDw4w4kD Dp0wDp0w phnDwDbD Dw1wDw)p wDwDwHwD DBDwDNDP P)PDw)KD $wDQ$wDw

After 23. … Rad8

24. Qe2? White should have sacrificed his queen for a possibly decisive initiative: 24.  N×g6! R×d1 25.  Ra×d1 Rc8 26. Nge5. 24. … Nd4 25. Qe7 Qc6 26. Re3? N×f3 27. R×f3 Be4 28. g6 B×f3† 29. Kg3 Nd5 30. g×f7† Kh8 31. B×d5 B×d5 0–1 Steinitz probably played many other casual games of which no record survives with various opponents, after, or even during, the tournament. The following game with Green may have been one such. MacDonnell mentions the curious case that Paulsen played two or three experimental games in which he offered Steinitz the odds of pawn and move. “Needless to say Steinitz won easily all the games so played.”56 July is the most likely time this would have occurred, probably at the Divan.

70. V. Green–Steinitz Casual game, London, July or August 1862 Bird’s Opening (A02) C.P.M., II (1864) pages 360–361, has notes and says this was played in 1862. Bachmann (game 81) and Pickard (game 608) wrongly say 1864. It was probably played either during Steinitz’s “down-time” before his games with Dubois or after their match had ended. Valentine Green made a good showing against Steinitz in 1862, and this ultimately led to the match between them in late 1863 which is described in the next chapter.

1. f4 Nf6 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. e3 d5 4. b3 e6 5. Bb2 Be7 6. g3 0–0 7. Bg2 b6 8. 0–0 Bb7 9. Nc3 Qd7 10. Ne2 Rad8 11. d4 Ne4 12. Nc3 Ba6 13. Ne2 f6 14. Nd2 f5 15. N×e4 f×e4 16. Rf2 Bd6 17. Rc1 Rf7 18. a3 Ne7 19. Bh3 Nf5 20. Qd2 Kh8 21. Kh1 Qe7 22.  a4 c6 23.  Bg2 g5 24.  Bh3 Rg8 25.  B×f5 R×f5 26.  Rcf1 g×f4 27.  g×f4 Bc8 28.  Ng3 Rf6 29.  Rg1 Bd7 30. Rfg2 Be8 31. Nf5 R×g2 32. N×e7 R×g1† 33. K×g1 B×e7

34. Qe2 Bg6 35. Kf1 Bf5 36. Ke1 a5 37. Qh5 Rg6 38. Kf2 Kg7 ½–½

Match with Dubois As stated above in the prefatory notes to Game 63, this match for a £10 stake was sponsored by the London Chess Club. The winner would be the first to score five games, draws not counting. Moreover (says The Era of 27 July) the idea was that the winner would play a small match for a five pounds prize, for the first to win three games, against the winner of the Anderssen–Paulsen match, but that never concluded because Anderssen had to leave London. The same article in The Era showed that Dubois had won the first game. It is probable that this first game was played on the 25th of July, since the 26th was Saturday and so probably too close to the time when the Era was printed for such information to have been put on an inside page. The I.L.N. of 2 August confirmed the arrangements made for the match but reports are hard to find as the Third Series of C.P.C. had collapsed. The games were not published anywhere as a set with any clear indication of the sequence; some appeared in print only in 1863. The Era, 10 August does show that the final game was played on Tuesday, 5 August. The dates suggested for the other games are somewhat speculative. Other contemporary papers hardly mentioned the match at all. The match is of particular interest because Bobby Fischer wrote a series of articles about it for Chess Life magazine during 1964 (in the issues for April, July, August, November, and December). Only the highlights of his annotations are quoted here. Fischer did not place the games in the right order, because his source was a set of Bachmann lent to him by John W. Collins.57 In particular, the game usually said to be the first cannot have been, because the result is wrong.58

71. S. Dubois–Steinitz Match (1), London Chess Club, 25? July 1862 Giuoco Piano (C54) Score from The Era, 8 November 1863; Bachmann (game 36); D.S.Z., April 1864, page 119. Also in Neumann and Suhle (game 276), page 435. This was possibly the first game of the match because it is one of the two that Dubois won with White. (In all he had five Whites and the match ended with Steinitz winning the ninth game as Black.) Fischer’s notes are in Chess Life, November 1964, pages 264–265.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  d4 e×d4 4.  Bc4 Bc5 5.  c3 Nf6 6. c×d4 Bb4† 7. Bd2 B×d2† 8. Nb×d2 d5 9. e×d5 N×d5 10. 0–0 Fischer pointed out that 10. Qb3 later became the standard move. 10. … 0–0 11. Re1 Nf4 Fischer: “Typical Steinitz. With most players this game would become a dry, positional struggle with Black trying to pile pressure on

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862 White’s isolated d-pawn, but Steinitz prefers more complex themes—themes that are sometimes almost impossible to unravel even a century later. The obvious 11. … Nb6 was a strong alternative.” 12. Ne4 Fischer: “By all rights this lemon should lose the game for White…. Better would be 12. Re4.” 12. … Bg4! 13. Qd2! Fischer: “…White’s only chance to break out of the bind and secure active counterplay.” 13. … Nh3†! 14. g×h3 B×f3 15. d5! Ne5 16. Qf4! f6? Better 16. … N×c4 17. Q×f3 Nd6= (Fischer). 17. Bb3! Kh8 18. Re3 g5 19. Qf5? Fischer said 19. N×g5! is weak because of 19. … B×d5 but 20. Qf5 refutes that; also 19. … Rg8 is met by 20. R×e5. 19. … Bh5? 19. … B×e4 was forced (Fischer). 20. N×f6! “20. N×g5 would also do the trick” said Fischer. 20. … Q×f6 Fischer: “On 20. … Ng6 21. Re6 is tremendously strong, because Black is practically in Zugzwang.” 21. Q×e5 Kg7? Fischer: “Black’s play has really disintegrated in this game… 21. … c6 held out some slight chances for a draw.” 22. Q×c7† Rf7 23. Qe5 Raf8 24. Rf1 Rd7 25. Q×f6† R×f6 Fischer: “The rest is simple technique.” 26.  Rfe1 Bg6 27.  Re7† R×e7 28. R×e7† Rf7 29. R×f7† K×f7 30. Kg2 Kf6 31. Kg3 Ke5 32. h4! g×h4† 33. K×h4 b5 34. Kg3?! This spoils nothing but 34. Kg5 “is obviously better” (Fischer). 34. … a5 35. f4† Kd4 36. d6 Bf5 37. Bd1! 1–0 After 37. … Kd5 38. Bg4 B×g4 39. K×g4 K×d6 40. Kg5 White wins the king and pawn ending easily. Fischer, going by Bachmann’s sequence, said that this was Steinitz’s second loss in a row and made the score 2½ all, but at no time in the match did Steinitz lose successive games if our analysis is correct.

72. Steinitz–S. Dubois Match (2), London Chess Club, 26 or 28? July 1862 Philidor Defense (C41) Bachmann (game 37); Löwenthal in The Era, 25 October 1863; he did not say which number in match but we believe this was the second game with Dubois subsequently switching to 2. … Nc6 for his other games with Black. Also in D.S.Z. February 1864, page 54, and Fischer in Chess Life, December 1964.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 d6 3. d4 e×d4 Dubois’ old book gave a variation with Philidor’s original counter-gambit 3. … f5 (page 48) and mentioned 3.  … Nc6 but not 3.  … e×d4. 4. Q×d4 Bd7 5. Be3 Nc6 6. Qd2 Nf6 7. Nc3 In his Modern Chess Instructor, Part 1, page 153, Steinitz did not mention the Dubois game but wrote: “Stronger than 7. Bd3 which would give Black exchanging option later on by Kt–K4 or cause loss of time. It also prepares 0–0–0 while Black evidently can only castle on the opposite side and as White’s Pawns can easily be mobilised for the attack on the King’s side it is to White’s advantage to clear at once the Queen’s side where his King will be better placed.” 7. … Be7 8. h3! Fischer: “A lovely Nimzowitschian move. Often

59

it’s a little move like this that sets the great masters apart from the routine woodpushers.” Steinitz either forgot this game, or came to believe that he had not adopted the best plan here. In the Instructor, page 152, column 27, Steinitz gave the immediate 8.  0–0–0 0–0 9.  Ne1 Ne5 10.  f3 and commented on the facing page: “White will continue the attack with g4 followed by Be2, and then accordingly he may proceed with the advance of the h-pawn or the development by Ng2, avoiding the exchange of minor pieces as Black’s game is hampered by his own pieces and exchanges would be a relief to him.” 8. … 0–0 9. g4! Ne5 10. N×e5 d×e5 11. g5! Nh5? 11. … Ne8 (given in The Era) was forced according to Fischer. 12. 0–0–0 “And wins” wrote Fischer. 12. … Bd6 12. … Be6 13. Qe2 was probably what Black had overlooked said Fischer. 13. Be2 Nf4 14. B×f4 e×f4 15. e5 Bc6 16. e×d6 B×h1 17. R×h1 Q×g5? 17. … Q×d6 would have been preferable (The Era). 18.  d×c7 Rac8 19.  Nd5 Rfe8 20.  Bf3 Qe5 21.  Rd1 g5 22.  Qd4 Q×d4 23.  R×d4 Kg7 24. Bg4 Re6 25. Rc4 Kf8 26. B×e6 f×e6 27. Nf6 h6 28. Kd2 Kf7 29. Ne4 Ke7 30. Ke2 Kd7 31. Kf3 R×c7 32. R×c7† K×c7 33. Kg4 Kc6 34. c4 1–0

73. S. Dubois–Steinitz Match (3), London Chess Club, 29? July 1862 King’s Bishop’s Gambit (C33) Bachmann (game 32); this game was published in The Era on 18 October 1863, about 14 months after it was played, with no indication it was from a match. B.L.L. 24 December 1864 just introduced it as “Game between Dubois and Steinitz in London Club.” Bachmann found it either in D.S.Z., XIX (February 1864) page 53, or in Suhle and Neumann’s Neueste Theorie which also dated it incorrectly. Bobby Fischer in Chess Life, April 1964, called this the first game of match but The Era, 27 July 1862, said “Matches Pending. Score: … Dubois 1 Steinitz 0 Drawn 0.” If that is correct then this cannot have been the first game.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Bc4 In Dubois’s book, consideration of the Bishop’s Gambit begins on page 40, after considerable detail on the 3. Nf3 gambits. 3. … d5 Dubois began with the ancient counter-gambit 3. … f5 before going on to deal with 3. … Qh4† which he called the right move (coup juste). His book does not consider 3. … d5; the next variation is 3. h4?! 4. B×d5 Best said Fischer, pointing out that 4. e×d5 contains a little trap: 4. … Qh4† 5. Kf1 f3? (5. … Bd6 gives Black an excellent game, he said.) 6. Bb5† followed by N×f3 winning a pawn for White. 4. … c6 “This move has its pluses and minuses” wrote Fischer. Generally, he said, Black delays it because the B on d5 can soon come under attack by …Ne7. 5. Bb3 Qh4† 6. Kf1 g5 7. Nf3 Qh5 8. d4 Bg7 9. Nc3 Ne7 10. e5 Neumann and Suhle queried this, saying the correct continuation of the attack is 10. h4 h6 11. Ne5 as in the fourth game of the 1864 Suhle–Anderssen match. On the other

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hand, “Well played,” wrote Fischer, taking advantage of …c6; he now threatens Ne4 “with a powerful game.” 10. … Bf5 11. d5?? “This wild move throws the game away”—Fischer. “By playing simply 11. Qe2 Qg6 (If 11. … g4 12. Ne1 f3 13. g×f3 g×f3 14. N×f3 Bg4 15. Kf2) 12. Kf2 followed by Re1 and Ne4 White would have a great advantage, if not a won game” he said. 11. … g4 12. Nd4 B×e5 13. N×f5 N×f5 14. Qe1 0–0 15. Ne4 Nd7 16. Qf2 Rae8 17. B×f4 Bd4 18. Ng3 Forced as 18. Qe2 Ne3† “wins outright. Chessplayers hated Steinitz for this type of move!” (Fischer). 18. … N×g3† 19. Q×g3 Qf5 20. Re1 Be5 21. R×e5 R×e5 22. Qf2 Re4 23. Bd6 Qg5 24. g3 Rfe8 25. d×c6 Qb5† 26. Kg2 Re2 27. B×f7† Kg7 28. B×e8 Q×c6† 29. Kg1 R×f2 30. K×f2 Q×h1 31. B×d7 Qf3† 0–1 The Era ends here saying “and wins.” B.L.L. also ended here saying “Steinitz wins.” There was an extra move pair in Bachmann, Fischer, and Pickard: 32. Ke1 Qd5.

74. Steinitz–S. Dubois Match (4), London Chess Club, 30? July 1862 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 35); Löwenthal’s notes in The Era, 5 April 1863, included a survey of the Evans Gambit Declined.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 Bb6 5. b5 In his notes to another of the games in this opening, in Chess Life for July 1964, Fischer said White should prefer 5.  a4! a6 6.  Nc3 (6. Bb2 “might be stronger”) 6. … Nf6 7. Nd5!? N×e4 (safer is 7. … N×d5 8. e×d5 e4 9. d×c6 0–0! with equality) 8. 0–0 Nf6! (but not 8. … 0–0? 9. d3 Nf6 10. Bg5 d6 11. Nd2 Bg4 12. B×f6 and wins, citing Kan–Botvinnik, USSR ch 1929) 9. d4 “and White has fair attacking chances for his pawns.” 5. … Na5 6. N×e5 Fischer: “If 6. Be2 d5 and White has nothing better than 7. d3 which leads to an inferior ending.” 6. … Nh6! Fischer: “The only correct defense. 6. … Qf6, Qg5, Bd4 should all lose.” This variation is discussed by GM Axel Smith, in his book Pump Up Your Rating (pages 227–229), saying, “White has no satisfactory defence against the triple threat: …Bd4, …d7–d6 and …Qf6.” Steinitz himself had played 6. … Bd4 in a friendly game with Deacon (Game 45). 7. d4 d6 8. B×h6 d×e5 9. B×g7 Qg5 The sequence of Evans Declined games in this match needs to be clarified. Smith says Dubois played 9. … Qg5 the first time this position arose and, plausibly, that he improved with 9. … Rg8 before going back to 9. … Qg5 (which Smith stigmatized with a “?”). All the standard Steinitz works say 9. … Rg8 was played in game 2 of the match. That cannot be correct because The Era of 3 August says that the score after four games was 2–2 and therefore the only drawn game (with 9. … Rg8) must have been the sixth or the eighth match game.59 10. B×h8 N×c4 10. … Q×g2 11. Rf1 see Game 78. 11. 0–0 Bg4 12. Bf6! “The refutation of this line”—Fischer (in Chess Life, November 1964). 12. … Qg6 13. Qd3 Q×f6 14. Q×c4 0–0–0 15. d×e5?

The losing move; 15. Nc3 R×d4 16. Nd5! simplifies and breaks the attack. 15. … Q×e5 16. Na3 Be6 17. Qe2 Qc3 18. Qf3 Q×f3 19. g×f3 Bc5! 20. Nb1? Bh3 0–1 Fischer pointed out 21. Rc1 (21. Kh1 B×f1) 21. … Rg8† 22. Kh1 B×f2 and mate next move.

75. S. Dubois–Steinitz Match (5), London Chess Club, 31? July 1862 Giuoco Piano (C50) Bachmann (game 34); The Era 13 September 1863; Fischer in Chess Life August 1964.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. 0–0 Nf6 5. b4 B×b4 6. c3 Be7 “This retreat refutes White’s strategy,” wrote Fischer. 7. d4 N×e4 7. … d6 would give Black a Hungarian Defense formation with an extra pawn. 8. d×e5 0–0 9. Bd5 Nc5 10.  Be3 Ne6 11.  Qc2 Kh8 11.  … d6 at once seems more natural said Fischer. 12. Nbd2 d6 13. B×c6 b×c6 14. Rad1 d5? 15. Nd4 Qe8? 16. f4 g6 17. f5? N×d4! 18. c×d4 B×f5 19. R×f5 g×f5 20. Q×f5 f6 21. Bh6 Qg6 22. Q×g6 h×g6 23. B×f8 R×f8 24. Nf3 c5 25. e×f6 R×f6 26. d×c5 B×c5† 27. Kf1 c6 28. a4 Kg8 29. Ke2 Kf8 30. Kd3 Ke7 31. Re1† Kd6 32. Re8 Bb6 33. Rg8 c5 34. Nh4 c4† 35. Kc2 (see diagram)

After 35. Kc2

wDwDwDRD 0wDwDwDw wgwiw4pD DwDpDwDw PDpDwDwH DwDwDwDw wDKDwDP) DwDwDwDw

35. … d4?! This leads to an intricate study featured in Fine’s Basic Chess Endings. If instead 35. … Rf2† 36. Kd1 (36.  Kc3 Ba5† 37.  Kd4 Rf4†) 36.  … Be3 37.  R×g6† Kc5 followed by …c3. 36.  R×g6 d3† 37.  Kd2 Ba5† 38.  Ke3 R×g6 39. N×g6 d2 40. Ke2 c3 41. Kd1 Kc5 42. Ne5 Bc7 43. Nf3 Kb4 44. Kc2 K×a4 45. g4 Bf4 46. g5 d1Q† 47. K×d1 Kb3 This position is diagram 247 in Fine’s book, on page 233. 48. Nd4† Kb2 49. g6 Bh6 50. h4 a5 51. h5 a4 52. Nc2 a3 53.  Nd4 53.  N×a3 K×a3 54.  Kc2 Kb4 will lead to zugzwang. 53. … a2 54. Nc2 Bg7 55. Na1 K×a1 56. Kc2 Bh6 0–1 Fine concluded 57. g7 B×g7 58. Kc1 c2 (“The coup de grace”) 59. K×c2 Bh6 “and White resigned since he can no longer keep the Black King from coming out of the corner,” but The Era and Bachmann say White resigned after move 56.

2. The London Congress, May–August 1862

76. Steinitz–S. Dubois Match (6), London Chess Club, 1 August? 1862 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 33), The Era, 13 September 1863; Fischer in Chess Life, July 1864.

This game, usually said to be the second of the match, was probably the sixth, and the second to feature this opening variation. Fischer was under the impression that it was the first Evans Declined game. 1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  Bc4 Bc5 4.  b4 Bb6 5.  b5 Na5 6. N×e5 Nh6 7. d4 d6 8. B×h6 d×e5 9. B×g7 Rg8 Löwenthal said Lange had played this. If instead 9. … Q×d4 10. Q×d4 B×d4 11. c3! Rg8 12. c×d4 R×g7 Fischer disagreed with the assessment of equality in Bilguers Handbuch, saying that after 13. Bd3 e×d4 14. g3 “I like White’s position because of his compact pawn formation. Gligorić, for example, has practically made a career of winning this type of ending.” 10. B×f7† K×f7 11. B×e5 Qg5 Fischer wrote a long note here criticizing Steinitz’s choice of this line. Smith says that after 11. … Nc4 12. Qh5† Kf8 13. Qf3† Ke8 “White’s attack is starting to fizzle out.” 12. Nc3 Nc4 13. Qf3† Ke8 14. Nd5 Ba5† Fischer said Black should have played 14. … Rf8. 15. c3 N×e5 16. d×e5 Q×g2 17. Qh5† Qg6 18. Qh4 Rg7 19. Kd2? Better is 19. 0–0–0 Qg5† 20. Q×g5 R×g5 21. f4 Rg2 22. f5 c6 23. Ne3 R×a2 24. Kb1 Re2 25. Nc4 Bc7 26. Rhg1 Kf7 27. Nd6† with a probable draw (Fischer). 19.  … Qg5† 20.  Q×g5 R×g5 21. Rhg1 R×g1 22. R×g1 Kf7 Fischer: “The ending should now be easily won for Black with his two Bishops, since White’s pawns are too slow-footed.” 23. Nf6 Be6 24. N×h7 Rh8 25. Ng5† Ke7 26. h3 Bb6 27. Rg2 Rf8 28. f3 B×a2 29. Rg4 Rd8† 30. Kc2 The Era: “Herr Steinitz stated to us that he should rather have moved his K to e1, but we do not see how White could have forced the game by this step.” 30. … Be3 Fischer: “Black has neatly prevented White’s pawns from advancing. The rest should be easy.” 31. Rg2 Bf4? Fischer: “Since White’s pawns were now completely blockaded, it was a waste of time bothering to win them. 31. … Bc4 followed by the march of the a-pawn would have reduced White to utter despair. From now on Black fails to put the quietus to his opponent though he has several good opportunities for it. The way Black botches this ending is a crime.” 32. h4 Bc4 33. Nh3 B×e5 34. f4 Bf1 35. Rg5 Bf6 36. Rg3 B×h4 37. Rg7† Kf6 38. R×c7 Bd3† 39. Kb3 B×e4 40. Kb4 Ke6 Fischer indicated 40. … Bf5! 41. R×b7 (otherwise 41. … Rd7 comes) 41. … Be1! 42. Ng5 Rc8 43. R×a7 R×c3 “and the two Bishops win easily in spite of the reduced material.” 41. Ng5† B×g5 42. f×g5 Rd7 43. Rc8 b6 44. c4 Rd1? Everyone says this was a blunder and both the winning moves suggested by Löwenthal (44. … Bb7) and by Fischer (44. … Rd4) should suffice. 45. Re8† Kf5 46. g6? Praised by Fischer but the computer prefers 46. Re7. 46. … Rd7 47. c5 Rd4†? 47. … Rc7 or 47. … Rg7 would retain winning

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chances. 48. Kc3 b×c5 49. g7 Bd5 50. g8Q B×g8 51. R×g8 ½–½ Fischer wrote: “A fantastic comeback by Steinitz!” Zavatarelli, when studying the writings of Dubois, discovered that something unexpected happened at this point in the match. Roughly translated, this is what Dubois revealed: A circumstance, however, that had a certain influence on my play, and for which I would deserve some excuse, is that when the score reached 3–3, Löwenthal, who was the effective director of the match, called me aside with Steinitz in the dressing room of the London Chess Club to propose that we each take half of the £10 prize whatever was the final outcome. I naturally agreed, and this security made me more relaxed at the game, especially as I received continuous letters from Lord Vernon inviting me to spend a few days at his castle of Sudbury Hall.60

77. S. Dubois–Steinitz Match (7), London Chess Club, 2 August? 1862 Scotch Game (C45) Bachmann (game 38) from The Era, 27 December 1863; D.S.Z., XIX (March 1864), page 89; B.L.L., 12 November 1864; Fischer in Chess Life, December 1964. Apparently the Schachzeitung, which translated Löwenthal's notes from The Era, mis-read White’s “13. Q to K2d” as Qd2, but since the queen soon moved again, the error went undetected and almost everyone since has published the score of this game incorrectly.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Bc5 5. Be3 Qf6 6. c3 Nge7 7. Bc4 In his Modern Chess Instructor, Steinitz considered several moves by White, reckoning 7. Bb5 to be strongest. He only mentioned 7. Bc4 on pages 78–79 in the illustrative game Chigorin–Schiffers (St. Petersburg 1880). 7. … Bb6 Steinitz played this move twice against Dubois but did not mention it in his book. 8. 0–0 0–0 8. … d6 was Steinitz’s preference in the final game of the match. 9. f4 d6 10. Qd3 Be6 11. Bb5 Better 11. N×e6 f×e6 12. Nd2 with advantage (Fischer in Chess Life, December 1964). 11. … d5 12. e5 Qg6 13. Qe2?! The Era said 13. Nd2 was preferable but Fischer indicated 13. Q×g6 h×g6 14. Nd2. Following Bachmann, he thought White had played 13. Qd2. 13. … N×d4 14. c×d4 Nf5 15. Qf2 N×e3 16. Q×e3 Qe4! 17. Q×e4 d×e4 18. Nc3 Rad8 Better than 18. … B×d4† said Fischer. 19. Kh1 c6 20. f5!? Bc8? Fischer showed that Black could have won by entering the complications with 20. … c×b5 21. f×e6 f×e6 22. N×b5 (or 22. N×e4 B×d4) 22. … e3!, followed by …a6. 21. Bc4 R×d4 22. Bb3 Re8? Fischer wrote: “It’s amazing but Black may be lost now!” Stockfish is not bluffed and finds more than one way to stay ahead (22. … g6 or 22. … c5). 23. e6! f×e6 24. Rae1 Ba5 25. Re3 B×c3?! 26. b×c3 Rd6 B.L.L. had 26. … Rd3, probably a misprint; like D.S.Z. and Bachmann, we follow The Era. 27. R×e4 g6? Fischer called this “a fantastic blunder” and said that 27. … b5, threatening …c5 (actually a Steinitz suggestion according to The Era),

62

Steinitz in London

would have retained some chances of saving the game. 28. f×e6 B×e6 29. Rf6 1–0

78. Steinitz–S. Dubois Match, London Chess Club (8), 4 August? 1862 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 39). The earliest primary source appears to be The Era, 11 October 1863, which called this game II but it is clear from the context that this did not mean the second game of the match. D.S.Z., XIX (February 1864) pages 52–53, introduced the game inaccurately as “from a match contested in London in the autumn of last year.”). B.L.L., 31 December 1864, just said “Game between Steinitz and Dubois, in London Club.”

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  Bc4 Bc5 4.  b4 Bb6 5.  b5 Na5 6. N×e5 Nh6 7. d4 d6 8. B×h6 d×e5 9. B×g7 Qg5 10. B×h8 Q×g2 10. … N×c4 was played in Game 74 which Dubois won. 11. Rf1 N×c4 12. Qe2 Bg4 13. f3! Not 13. Q×c4 Q×e4† 14. Kd2 0–0–0 “and Black has a winning attack”—Fischer, Chess Life, December 1964. 13.  … Q×e2† If 13.  … Bh3? 14. Q×g2 B×g2 15. Rg1 B×d4 16. R×g2 etc. (Fischer). 14. K×e2 Bh3 15. Rd1 0–0–0 16. B×e5 Rg8 17. Bg3 f5 18. Nd2! Fischer: “White gives back a pawn to consolidate his position.” 18. … Na3 19. c3 N×b5 20. Rac1 f×e4 21. N×e4 Re8 22. Kf2 a6 23. a4 Na7 24. Re1 Rf8 25. Ng5 Bf5 26. Re7 Nc6 27. Rf7 R×f7 28. N×f7 Ne7 29. Re1 Nd5 30. Re5 Bg6 31. Nd6† c×d6 32. R×d5 Bc2 33. R×d6 Bd8 34. Rh6 Bg6 35. h4 Be7 36. h5 Bc2 37. d5 Bd3 38. d6 Bd8 39. d7†! K×d7 40. Rd6† 1–0

79. S. Dubois–Steinitz Match, London Chess Club (9), 5 August 1862 Scotch Game (C45) Bachmann (game 40), pages 47–49, from D.S.Z., XIX, (1864) page 89. The Era of 10 August 1862 says “Match between Dubois and Steinitz. The last game in this interesting contest was played on Tuesday last, Mr. Steinitz carrying the victory. Final score: Mr. Steinitz, 5; Signor Dubois, 3; Drawn, 1.” The game was annotated by Fischer in Chess Life, December 1964, pages 295 and 305, but he missed some of the twists that computers now detect.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Bc5 5. Be3 Qf6 6.  c3 Nge7 7.  Bc4 Bb6 8.  0–0 d6 Fischer: “Apparently Steinitz envisions castling Q-side or simply remaining with his King in the center and playing for a K-side attack himself.” He said 8. … 0–0, as played in Game 77, is more solid.

9. Kh1 Ne5 10. Be2 h5 Fischer: “Better was 10. … g5! to prevent White from driving away Black’s well-placed Knight. Of course…. White can cause his opponent some discomfort with 11. Nb5! but Black in that case has the strong reply 11. … Kd8.” 11. f4 Ng4 12. Bg1 Nc6 13. Na3 g5!? 14. f×g5? White had several better moves. Fischer suggested 14. e5 but Stockfish finds the even stronger 14. Nab5 g×f4 15. N×c6 breaking open the queenside. 14. … Q×g5 15. Nc4 Bd7 16. N×b6 a×b6 17. Nf5? Stockfish calls for 17. Bb5 or 17. Bc4, still preferring White. 17. … 0–0–0!? Castling into danger; 17. … Rg8 18. b4 Rdg8 19. Bf3 Nce5 20. a4 Bc6? Now White might have had a winning attack. 21. b5! N×f3 (see diagram)

After 21. … N×f3

wDkDwDr4 Dp0wDpDw w0b0wDwD DPDwDN1p PDwDPDnD Dw)wDnDw wDwDwDP) $wDQDRGK

22.  Q×f3 This is the human move and strong. After 22. b×c6!? Nf×h2! (Fischer) Stockfish sustains the attack by the sort of tactics only seen in correspondence games: 23.  c×b7† Kb8 24.  Ra2 N×f1 25.  Q×f1 K×b7 26.  a5 Ra8 27. Qb5 Qd8 28. a×b6! R×a2 29. b×c7† Kd7 30. Q×f7† and 31. Q×a2. Although White has only one pawn for the exchange, his knight is superior to Black’s rook and the Black king is naked. 22. … Ne5 23. Qe2 Bd7 24. Ra2? Fischer: “The first logical blunder in the whole match. White sees he cannot play 24. a5 immediately because of 24. … B×b5.” The lost tempo enables Black to seize the initiative. Instead Stockfish strongly prefers White after 24. Ne3 or 24. Bd4. 24. … Be6! 25. Be3 Qd8?! 26. Rfa1? 26. Raa1 Bc4 was the lesser evil and last chance for White. 26. … Bc4 27. Qe1 B×a2 28.  R×a2 Qf6 29.  Bd4 Qe6 30.  Ra1 Rg6 31.  a5 b×a5 32. R×a5 Rhg8 33. g3 Nc4 34. Ra8† Kd7 35. R×g8 R×g8 36. Qe2 Re8 37. Ng7 Q×e4† “The rest is technique” (Fischer). 38.  Q×e4 R×e4 39.  N×h5 Ke6 40.  Kg2 Kf5 41.  h3 Na3 42. b6 c5 43. Bf6 Nc4 44. g4† Kg6 45. Bd8 Re2† 46. Kg3 Re3† 47. Kh4 R×c3 48. Nf4† Kh7 49. g5 Ne5 50. Nd5 Rd3 51. Nf6† Kg6 52. Ne8 c4 53. Bf6 c3 54. N×d6 c2 0–1

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863 The latter had developed from the medieval city built on the site of Roman Londinium. It was, and still is, the business and financial district of the British capital. Generally known just as “the City” or “the Square Mile” (since its land area is little over that size), it includes such landmarks as St. Paul’s Cathedral (built by Sir Christopher Wren after the Great Fire of London of 1666), the medieval Guildhall (extensively reconstructed after the Great Fire), and the Bank of England on Threadneedle Street (established in 1694). By the 1860s, upwards of 300,000 workers journeyed every weekday to the City from adjacent boroughs to the north, west, south, and east. (The word “commuter” had not yet been coined.) They walked from their homes or, if better off, used various types of horse-drawn conveyance. Tens of thousands began their journeys by train, but an Act of Parliament had placed a limit on how close to the center the railroad termini could be situated, which explains why Waterloo and London Bridge stations (the latter serving City workers) were sited just south of the Thames. Only in the 1860s did an amended Act allow rail companies to cross the river. The largest cohort of workers coming into central London by train were served by several main stations which still today are roughly aligned just south of Regent’s Park and the Regent’s Canal: Paddington, Euston, St. Pancras, and King’s Cross. From where the tracks ended, workers had to walk the rest of the way, to their offices, shops or factories, although middle-class people might afford a slow horse-drawn omnibus. Victorian Londoners had to be ready to do a lot of walking, even at night and in the smog. It was these termini that were linked by the first section of the world’s earliest subway, the Metropolitan Railway, which would bring passengers to Farringdon Road station (now just called “Farringdon”) on the north-west edge of the City.2 Construction had begun in the spring of 1860 using the cut-and-cover method, mostly following the line of the Euston Road and other west-east roads to minimize the effect on houses and the compensation that would have to be paid. The “navvies” worked day and night in two shifts,

Steinitz decided to remain in England after the Congress, as was indeed his declared intention before he left Vienna. It was the start of a new and eventually successful life for him, but certainly not an easy or financially profitable one. Between August 1862 and the end of 1863 most of his games would have been played for small sums of money in the London Chess Club or various public resorts, but he also had three set matches during this period, which he won. Some of the match games were not preserved and the surviving casual games can only be a small fraction of the hundreds, if not thousands, of games Steinitz must have played in these 16 months. A context about the London in which he found himself is provided first, both from a general point of view, and specifically the chess scene there.

London in 1862 In 1862 the metropolis was undergoing great change. Steinitz had already seen the start of modernization in Vienna, but in London, redevelopment was taking place on an even larger scale. It was by then the most populous city in the world. A census of England and Wales was taken on the night of 7/8 April 1861. The statistics, published in 1863, provide a fair guide to how many people lived there when Steinitz arrived. The population of inner London (where he mostly spent his time) was 2,808,494, up half a million on a decade earlier. By 1871 this had risen to 3,261,396 and in 1881, about 18 months before Steinitz left for America, it was 3,830,297.1 Something of the flavor of London in those days can be gauged by reading two late Charles Dickens novels, Great Expectations (1860/61) and especially his last completed novel, Our Mutual Friend, which he wrote between 1863 and 1864. London was dirty, smelly, noisy, crowded, and there were huge variations between the living conditions of the wealthy and the very poor. Inner London had expanded from two separate centers: Westminster (seat of Parliament) and the City of London.

63

64

Steinitz in London

but the construction ran over into a third year. The inaugural trial run over the whole line was in late May 1862, shortly after Steinitz’s arrival in London. William Ewart Gladstone, then Chancellor of the Exchequer, was on board, a sure sign of the importance of this major infrastructural project. Opening of the line was delayed, however, by the rupturing of the Fleet sewer, which had to be repaired before construction could be completed. The official opening ceremony was on 9 January 1863 and the line opened for business next day. Although that was a Saturday, 30,000 people traveled and the line soon proved a great success. Within a few years of Steinitz’s arrival, the first railroad to cross the Thames was completed and by 1866 it linked up with the Metropolitan at Farringdon, through the Snow Hill tunnel, which is now used by the Thameslink train company. London’s suburbs developed in every direction along the railroad lines. The pattern we see today—whereby the boroughs south of the river have a dense network of mostly over-ground lines, whereas north of the river for a mile or two the tracks are largely underground—was already established within the first decade of Steinitz’s time in London. Another major infrastructural project carried out during Steinitz’s first decade in England was the Victoria Embankment, which narrowed the Thames, established new roads and sewers and also involved the construction of a section of what became the District Line of the London Underground. The Embankment was begun in 1865 and completed in 1870, after which the course of the river and central London’s principal thoroughfares became close to what they are today. Eventually the subway system, as it developed by the turn of the twentieth century, came to link all London’s railroad termini. The Metropolitan Line, in its early stages at least, may not have benefited Steinitz greatly because he seems to have preferred to find accommodation within walking distance of the main chess centers of the City. Ironically, the section of the Circle Line (which incorporated parts of the Metropolitan and District lines) that would have been of most benefit to Steinitz was only completed in October 1884, a year after he definitively left England for America. The last part to open, the section between Tower Hill and Mansion House underneath two and a half miles of London’s most expensive real estate, thereafter enabled rapid journeys from the chess resorts in the City to the Embankment station, close to Charing Cross main line terminus, and convenient for Simpson’s Divan.3 Playing chess with amateurs for money (or receiving payment for tuition) was Steinitz’s bread-and-butter in the 1860s, so it was probably almost a daily necessity in those years for him to walk home late in the evening through gas-lit streets. Just three home addresses for him are known: one within the City, close to the Bank, and the other two about a mile north of there. The earliest of these dates from 1866 (further discussion of this topic is deferred to later).

The City was increasingly only a small fraction of London, from the physical point of view. The docklands to the east were of great commercial significance but hardly relevant to Steinitz’s life. The main route from the City towards Westminster was Fleet Street, traditional home of the newspaper industry. Until 1878, when it was dismantled, Wren’s Temple Bar on that street marked the division between the City and what is popularly known as the West End. Going westward, Fleet Street becomes The Strand, which terminates at Trafalgar Square. The West End became of increasing importance as more and more of the principal chess events and clubs were located in the area of Westminster around Covent Garden and Piccadilly. These included St. James’s Hall, where the central week of the 1862 Congress was held, and which was used in later years for some other events organized by Löwenthal. The St. George’s and St. James’s Chess Clubs were also in the West End, as were smaller public resorts like the Philidorian Chess Rooms.

London Chess Club and Purssell’s The London Chess Club, Britain’s first nineteenth century chess club, was founded in 1807. Its early members included the chess writer Jacob Sarratt. London Chess Club came to public attention in the years 1824–1828 when it played, and lost, its celebrated correspondence match with Edinburgh. There were various other small chess clubs in London from time to time during the 1820s and 1830s but none of these rivals lasted long until the 1840s. Between 1848 and 1851 the London Chess Club won two correspondence matches with Amsterdam but its refusal in 1851 to co-operate in the organization of the world’s first international tournament cost it some kudos. Nevertheless in 1862 the London Chess Club was still one of the two most important clubs in the capital, being primarily frequented by men from the worlds of business and finance. Its western rival, the St. George’s Chess Club, had been founded by Walker in 1839 but this proved a false start, through lack of support, and it failed in 1840.4 He restarted it in 1841 when, after its first venue failed, it became established at the Polytechnic Institute, 5 Cavendish Square, venue of the London 1851 international tournament. At the end of 1853 their lease expired and, according to the Chess Player’s Chronicle in 1854, they moved to 53 St. James’s Street, until 1857 when they found a new home at 20 King Street in the St. James’s district. This was the club’s accommodation during most of Steinitz’s time in London, until just before Christmas 1881 when they were obliged to move and thereafter their address was 47 Albemarle Street, Piccadilly. Ultimately the club, like many others, was a casualty of the First World War, losing too many members.

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863 A membership list of the St. George’s Club dating from 24 May 1865 shows that in its heyday the club had 140 paying members. The president was Lord Cremorne (later Earl of Dartrey) and the Standing Committee included Lord Lyttelton, Staunton, and the Revs. John Owen and William Wayte, Marmaduke Wyvill MP and the editor Fonblanque. Thomas Inglis Hampton was honorary secretary. Members included other aristocrats, some politicians, clergymen, and military officers, together with Saburov from the Russian Embassy, Count Kushelev-Bezborodko, and several leading players.5 Steinitz, in his early years, was seldom heard of at the St. George’s (though a game of his in 1865 is known to have been played there) but he seems to have quickly been welcomed at the London Chess Club in the summer of 1862. All his early formal matches were played there, as well as casual games. Perhaps Steinitz was an invited guest of various members, or more likely some special status was conferred upon him as a resident professional. The few surviving club records do not cover the 1860s so we cannot be sure whether he was ever elected a member. At this time the City of London Chess Club, which became important for Steinitz in the early 1870s, was still in its infancy and had a small membership. Its history will be told in a later chapter. Although the London Chess Club had three different homes during its 63 years of existence, its premises were always close to Cornhill, which is one of the main thoroughfares that converge near the front of the Bank of England. The club originally met at Tom’s Coffee House. There were several businesses of that name but the relevant one was located at 31 Cornhill. According to Bryant Lillywhite, an expert on London coffee houses in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, it had been in the early 1800s a thriving commercial meeting-place.6 An old minute book and a few other fragments of chess club records dating from between 1829 and the early 1850s still survive in an archive. By the 1850s, as the last surviving membership list shows, most of the members listed the Stock Exchange as their address, but in its heyday the players had more diverse backgrounds, and the membership seems always to have included some Jewish players. Historian John Townsend has made extensive use of the few surviving records in a book dealing chiefly with leading personalities among the club’s membership; he did not explore the history of the club itself in detail.7 A significant change in London chess life took place in 1834. It appears that at some earlier date, a second chess club sprang up in the City, which met at the George and Vulture. This was a famous tavern (or hotel) which Charles Dickens made famous in the Pickwick Papers.8 In diminished form, it still exists today. Old sources sometimes describe the George and Vulture as being on Cornhill although it is some fifty yards from that street. It has a narrow frontage, with the name displayed, in a corner of George Yard beside Bengal

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Court, but the entrances to the pub are in the maze of narrow passages behind, one in St. Michael’s Alley and another in Castle Court. The London Chess Club minute book shows that it held its annual general meeting at Tom’s on 22 March 1834 at which the fifth resolution adopted by the members stated: “That the Committee be requested to confer with the Members of the Junior London Chess Club who propose to join the Club; on the propriety of altering any of our Laws and to report the result at the next General Meeting.” The next entry in the book shows that five members resigned on the 25th of March; this was when subscriptions for the next year were due. Immediately following this, the book says that a meeting of the Committee on 1 April resolved: That the Secretary be authorized to receive a List of such members of the Junior London Chess Club as may be willing to join this Club to enter their names as members and to report the same to the General Meeting to be held here on the 19th inst.

The minutes of the next General Meeting on 23 April shows that a resolution was passed “that the Committee to consist of Twelve members in future.” At that meeting 11 new members were admitted to the London Chess Club and two of these men were immediately elected to the Committee. It is also noteworthy that one of the new committee members, Mr. Klein, and a second man, who was an ordinary member, both gave the George and Vulture as their address. All the others (except P. Duncan of Artillery Place, which is in Westminster) supplied addresses either in the City or in Tower Hamlets, a district just east of the City. A few more members, possibly from the Junior club, joined later in April or in May, but no addresses were noted for them. This merger of the chess clubs was noticed in the press. In June 1834, for example, The Standard reported that: The junior London Chess Club, hitherto meeting at the George and Vulture, Cornhill, have formed a junction with the old London Club at Tom’s Coffee House. This union must prove advantageous to both, and we do not despair of seeing the parent club flourishing in that high and palmy state it held some twenty summers since.9

In his book cited above, Townsend states that references in the minute book to the “Junior London Chess Club” were references to “the incipient Westminster Chess Club, assembling at Bedford Street, Covent Garden” but in that he was surely mistaken, for several reasons. Firstly, the references in the minute book (although admittedly not the one in The Standard) always capitalize Junior London Chess Club, implying that was the proper name of a formally constituted society and not the older-established club looking down its nose at an upstart. Secondly, the addresses given by 10 of the 11 members who first transferred to the London Chess Club were of people for whom a club in the City would have been more convenient than one in the West End. Thirdly, the agreement to enlarge the committee and include two of the new members (a detail not mentioned by Townsend) clearly

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The George and Vulture tavern, with the much larger frontage on George Yard as it was at the time of the Pickwick Papers, before the 1850s redevelopment of St. Michael’s Alley at the rear. (From Henry Chance Newton, History of “Ye George and Vulture Tavern, One of London’s Oldest Inns” [London 1909].)

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863

All that can be seen of the George and Vulture today from George Yard. Most of the surviving building is behind with an entrance on Castle Court. There is also a door via St. Michael’s Alley under the archway and Bengal Court is in the corner, left. (Photograph by author.)

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implies a merger, as the newspaper said, between two chess clubs that formerly met close together in the Cornhill area. The original resolution of 22 March implies that representation on the committee had been requested as a condition for the merger. Finally, and decisively, the Westminster Chess Club was not “incipient” as Townsend writes. On the contrary, it had originally been founded in the previous year, managed by John Henry Huttmann.10 The Morning Post of 4 May 1833 says: “A Westminster Chess Club has just been established, and holds its meetings in Bedford-street, Covent-garden.” Several other news reports and advertisements for Walker’s books testify to the existence of the club in 1833.11 Admittedly it appears there was a hiatus before it was re-established in the fall at another address in the same street, but it was normal for chess clubs to go into abeyance during the summer season. The Morning Post of 5 November 1833 said the Westminster Chess Club now had “upwards of a hundred members,” including several of the strongest in London (William Lewis, Walker, Frederick Lokes Slous and Alexander McDonnell among them), and a visit by de la Bourdonnais was envisaged. When an address for the Westminster is printed, it is always the same street in the West End. The George and Vulture is never mentioned in connection with the Westminster Chess Club. The two clubs located close to each other near Cornhill agreed to a merger because both were losing members to the Westminster Chess Club. While there was no chess club in the West End, people who lived or worked there but were keen on chess might have been willing to travel into the City to get a game; this was no longer necessary. Even for some City workers, a club in Westminster may have been more conveniently located, or just more attractive in other ways, not least because it seemed now to have the strongest players, including famous chess writers like Lewis and Walker. So those members of the Junior Chess Club who still preferred to have their chess in the City moved the small distance from the George and Vulture to Tom’s, instead of the two miles to Covent Garden. Meanwhile the Westminster Chess Club prospered for a year or two, starting in February 1834 a correspondence match with Paris (which it lost) and hosting in the summer of 1834 the famous series of six matches between McDonnell and de la Bourdonnais.12 A few men may have been members of both the London Chess Club and the Westminster. McDonnell (who died in 1835) is not shown in the former’s minutes as having resigned at any point. Walker, as Townsend points out, was first elected to the London Chess Club in 1830, resigned in March 1834 but rejoined in the 1840s when (after his father’s death) he gave up the publishing business and became a stockbroker. There were growing difficulties at Tom’s Coffee House and it is possible to trace in outline what occurred. Around 1833 or 1834, according to Lillywhite, a new proprietor, William

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Warne, took over Tom’s from S.P. Adderley, who had been listed from 1813 to 1832. The chess club minute book provides a different angle. It shows that by July 1834 a Mr. Morphy (who possibly was an agent for Warne) had taken over and the club sought to agree a new contract with him. It includes a copy of a resolution taken on 9 July 1834 that they would: … write to Mr. Morphy & inform him that they will take their present Club room at the rate of £60 from Lady Day last with the usual accommodation & attendance—a quarter’s notice from any quarter day to be given by either party previous to a termination of the agreement, and at the same time to inform him that if the number of members shall at a future time be increased and will admit of it, that the rent shall also be increased.

“Lady Day” or the Feast of the Annunciation (25 March) was a traditional “quarter day” on which contracts began and ended. So the club was next due to pay rent on 25 June but apparently they had not paid by then, probably because of some uncertainty over their future at Tom’s. They wrote next day to Morphy in these terms but the next page of the book has a copy of a letter from a Mr. A. Salter, dated 14 July, saying that his uncle Mr. Morphy: … intends closing Tom’s Coffee House this Evening but in order that the Members of your Club shall not be put to any inconvenience he will have their room kept open until the house is let, and he further requests me to say that you can please to pay the young lady at the Bar the quarter’s rent which is due.

It seems from the surviving accounts that they did not succeed in having the rent reduced to £60 but, compared with 1833 when the quarterly rent to Tom’s was £22 6s. 6d. (or £89 6s. per annum) they paid five pounds per quarter less under the new arrangement, amounting to £69 6s. annually, a substantial reduction, perhaps in recognition of conditions being inferior to what they had previously been. The accounts for 1836 show a slight increase to £70 16s., but there were slight variations up and down in the next two years, because newspapers were included. From the few clues that remain, it seems that under its new management Tom’s was not a success and this eventually led to the club changing its premises. That did not happen immediately, though, with Bell’s Life in London informing a correspondent on 13 December 1835 that: “In the London Chess Club at Tom’s Coffee House, Whist is played on Wednesday and Saturday evenings. We confess we do not think Chess associates well with any other game; but all men are not bound to think alike.” The cards players are mentioned in a minute of a committee meeting held on 25 April 1838; it seems they had a separate committee because it was resolved to purchase £25 worth of worth of 3½ percent stock “to be added to a like sum already advanced by Whist playing members” to establish a fund for the benefit of the club; its secretary George Perigal and Klein were to act as trustees. Lillywhite says that by 1838 “Tom’s as a commercial centre was by now on the point of decline” and for whatever reason

the chess club decided to move. The minute book shows that on 29 September 1838 the London Chess Club served notice to give up their room at Tom’s Coffee House by Christmas. They moved the short distance to the George and Vulture on 24 December 1838, where the rent was £75 per annum, payable half yearly. The L.C.C. soon had to mourn the passing of their long-time president, Grant Allan, who had been in charge at the time of the Edinburgh match.13 In The Pickwick Papers, which Charles Dickens completed in 1837, there is a description of the George and Vulture functioning as a hotel just at the time when Queen Victoria ascended the throne. How it looked in those days can be seen from the illustration. In 1840 Walker reported that “Monday is the grand chess night at the London chess-club, George and Vulture, Cornhill.”14 On the evening of 3 August 1846 a special occasion took place there, witnessed by a crowd of about 70 including Howard Staunton, Captain Evans, other celebrities of the chess world and the painter Charles Landseer. Harrwitz and Kieseritzky played a game blindfold (won by Kieseritzky with Black), while they each simultaneously played a game (also blindfold), receiving knight odds as compensation from opponents who could see the board. Kieseritzky, despite the extra knight, lost to Mongredien but Harrwitz defeated Perigal. The moves were communicated in three different languages after Kieseritzky explained his system of notation.15 Another great occasion at the George and Vulture was the annual club dinner held there on 26 May 1847 which was reported in the Chess Player’s Chronicle, as quoted by Townsend, as well as in several newspapers. The magazine’s editor, Staunton, was there with his former match opponents SaintAmant, Horwitz, and Harrwitz among the company of about a hundred. Chess was played from mid-day until the meal and speeches began at 7 p.m. The diners were entertained by “Herr Staudigl, the great basso (whose magnificent singing formed the leading feature of attraction during the evening).”16 The club subscription then was three guineas, equivalent to about £275 sterling in terms of today’s purchasing power.17 London Chess Club continued to meet at the George and Vulture for a decade and a half. They were there at the time of the London 1851 international tournament when, because of a dispute with Howard Staunton, they declined to be involved, instead organizing their own competition. Then in the mid–1850s, a big change was forced upon them. The whole area around St. Michael’s Lane was redeveloped for office buildings, and part of the George and Vulture was taken down, so that it became just a tavern with rooms above, where the club met.18 The redevelopment meant that the London Chess Club had to move again. The club must have received notice to quit towards the end of that year or early in 1855. On 25 March 1855, Walker reported the move in Bell’s Life as follows:

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863 London Chess Club.—This flourishing chess society have removed from the George and Vulture back to their ancient quarters, Tom’s Coffee House, for six months only, having arranged with Purssell to take a lease of a spacious suite of rooms; to be built expressly for the club during the six months. Space is so scarce on Cornhill, that clubs must pay a rent truly royal to hold their own there; still the London Chess Club resolve that the old flag shall still fly on the old ground, and their new rooms will enable them to adopt many improvements and advantages hitherto unknown in a chess club.19

The reduced George and Vulture has happily survived later redevelopments and the Blitz, although it now has just a narrow frontage with no door directly on to George Yard. It is worth a visit to see where the early club met although its chess associations are long since at an end. It is often

George Webb Medley, honorary secretary of the London Chess Club (from 1855) and of the British Chess Association. (From A Century of British Chess.)

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closed in the evenings, when City workers have departed to their suburban homes, but one can still buy a traditional lunch there on a weekday and obtain some impression of how it was in Steinitz’s day. Soon after the move, on 1 April 1855, Perigal died and the new secretary of the London Chess Club was George Webb Medley (1826?–1898). The club’s stay in the now much diminished Tom’s lasted about eight months. Lillywhite says that a description from 1845 shows Tom’s no longer fronting on to Cornhill but “in Cowper’s Court, formerly Fleece Passage, most probably in the back part of its former premises.” He says the change occurred some time between 1840 and 1845 and it is noticeable that nowadays there is no 31 Cornhill, because Cowper’s Court runs beside number 32 which is adjacent to number 30. Walker reported in Bell’s Life of 30 December 1855 that the club was “now installed in a commodious suite of apartments, built expressly for their use by Mr. Purssell in his newly erected edifice, corner of Finch-lane and Cornhill.” The regulations of the club were printed in that article. Sergeant’s A Century of British Chess dates the move to 26 December 1855, and in early February 1856 an inaugural dinner was held there.20 Judging from advertisements and reports in newspapers, the Purssell family was well established in business at 78 Cornhill by 1845, making biscuits, expanding over the next few years into cakes, confectionery and general catering.21 They soon opened a café or restaurant, which became a favorite haunt of Louis Napoleon (later Emperor Napoleon III) in exile, after his escape from a French prison in 1846 until his return to France when the 1848 Revolution broke out. Supposedly he received free meals in return for attracting French clientele to Purssell’s.22 After two failed applications, Purssell’s acquired a liquor license in 1853, which also enabled them to expand the business further. The Morning Advertiser, 10 December 1855, published a list of transfer of licenses of victuallers in the City of London at a special session the previous Saturday in which the names of the proprietors can be seen: “CORNHILL WARD. Purssell’s Restaurant, James Purssell and William Purssell to James Purssell and Alfred Purssell.” Then on 14 October 1857 the latter’s partnership was dissolved, leaving Alfred (born about 1830) in sole control while James immigrated to New York.23 It is likely that Alfred Purssell was chiefly responsible for attracting chess-playing customers to the business. At the time of his death in the 1890s, he was a City councillor for the Cornhill Ward and on the board for sewers, so he had been an important local politician and successful businessman.24 Purssell’s new building had a public restaurant on the ground floor, where chess continued to be played into the 1890s. (That building no longer exists and has been replaced by Union Buildings at 78–80 Cornhill, housing the Cooperative Bank.) The door that can be seen on Finch Lane in

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Purssells on Cornhill. The new premises extending from 80 Cornhill around the corner up to 4 Finch Lane, where London Chess Club was based in its final years. (Author’s collection.)

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863 the illustration probably led to a staircase going up to the London Chess Club rooms. A brief description can be found in a book about the whirlwind tour that Morphy paid to Europe in 1858 (and early 1859). Authored by his amanuensis Frederick Edge, it is unreliable in some respects but the information in the chapter on chess in London is credited (in the Preface) to Walker, and so should be considered reasonably reliable. Come along with me to Cornhill. Stop! This is Purssell’s restaurant. We’ll walk upstairs. This room on the first floor is devoted to billiards. Above it meets the Cosmopolitan Club, and on the third floor—out of reach of the noise below is the famous old “London,” of which every player of note during the past fifty years has either been a member or visitor….25

So the London Chess Club met on the top floor. An advertisement in Bell’s Life, on the day of the chess club’s first dinner, looked for a tenant for “First-class club rooms, in the City, near the Exchange, to let, handsomely furnished, with or without billiards etc. Apply at Purssell’s, Cornhill.” This presumably related to the rooms below the chess club, which were subsequently let to the Cosmopolitan Club. Some confirmation about arrangements at Purssell’s can be found in reports of a court case in 1856 when a Mr. Ballantine opposed the renewal of the alcohol license. Objections had been lodged because of an alteration of the premises.26 From this we learn, for example, that Purssell’s had built a passageway between numbers 78 and 80 Cornhill; a different business presumably had the frontage of number 79. “They had also connected their premises with No. 4, Finch-lane, where they carried on the business of Licensed Victuallers” said the complainant, arguing that the license only covered number 78, but Mr. Parry, the lawyer for Purssell’s, made a successful defense, saying the license did not specify any street number and “with the exception of a new coffee-room in Finch lane, the premises were in the same state as when the license was renewed in 1854 and 1855.” It was stated that a chess club of 60 gentlemen had taken a room on the premises and that the Cosmopolitan Club, which numbered 150 members, also met there. The establishment was closed all day on Sundays, and was not open after eight at night on weekdays. The bench made some inquiries and examined a plan of the premises. The license was renewed. In 1858 the freehold of the building was sold, but this was apparently just a financial operation that does not appear to have affected the restaurant or the clubs; Purssell remained on a 75-year lease due to expire in 1923. An advertisement of that sale in the Daily News, of 15 May 1858, gives more information about the size of the premises at 4 and 5 Finch Lane. The ground floor dining room was 33 feet by 21½ feet, with an entrance from the lane (which leads to Threadneedle Street where the Bank of England is located). On the upper stories, there was a well-proportioned and lofty billiard room, and above that were two spacious and handsome apartments, occupied by the Cosmopolitan and Chess Clubs.

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The advertisement said that “The whole of the same has been rebuilt within the last four years in the most substantial manner with considerable taste.” There is also a glimpse of how things were in 1861, shortly before Steinitz arrived in London, in one of the Horae Matutinae dialogues in the third series of The Chess Player’s Chronicle. The one starting on page 161 was set in Purssell’s. “Most of the persons entering are foreign merchants and brokers, the majority of them, however, are followers of the mosaic law.” Steinitz definitely did play at Purssell’s in the summer of 1862. That was where he had met Bird for the casual games in the previous chapter. In his reminiscences of the London tournament, Dubois included various observations on the London chess scene. He mentioned that Purssell’s “was particularly frequented by Bird, the brothers Healey, Steinitz, and a few other young amateurs,” and it is hard to believe Dubois never went in there.27 Frank Healey (1828–1906) was already one of England’s leading problem composers and with his elder brother Edward was instrumental the following year in launching The Chess Player’s Magazine. They had in the past been regulars at Kling’s chess rooms in New Oxford Street (which had failed in the late 1850s) and then at Starie’s Philidorian Chess Rooms in Rathdown Place (also in the West End), where the third series of The Chess Player’s Chronicle was published. That was still in business in 1862 but, like the Chronicle itself, it, too, was failing. So Purssell’s became the favorite chess haunt of the Healeys and, being in the City, it was more convenient for their workplace. For Steinitz it would have been somewhere to eat before or after his visits to the club. After the chess club closed in April 1870, some members continued to play chess in the rooms of the Cosmopolitan Club, but by 1879 that club had removed to Hoxton.28 Chess continued to be played in the ground floor restaurant which had the following entry in the 1879 Dickens’s Dictionary of London, edited by Charles Dickens, Jr., son of the novelist: “PURSSELL’S RESTAURANT, Cornhill.—Open from noon to 9 p.m. Admission free. An afternoon resort for professional players, and much patronised by city clerks, warehousemen, etc.” British Chess Magazine published a long article in 1891 about Purssell’s. It says little about the origins but provides a good snapshot of how things were in the final months there.29 In October it closed and everything was sold on 4 November.30 Chess players were invited to remove to “Doctor Butler’s Head,” in Mason-avenue, Basinghall-street, where R. H. F. Fenton was said to be organizing a tournament.31

Chess and the Divans Lillywhite’s directory identifies several places associated with chess. Undoubtedly the most famous was the Grand

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Divan in the Strand, associated with the names of Ries and Simpson, which is the subject of the next section. There was also Goode’s on Ludgate Hill, at the western side of the City, where in the mid–1840s the adolescent Henry Bird first met strong opponents such as Kling.32 There were indeed many cafés or public resorts in London from the 1820s onwards where chess was played, though the tradition of coffee house chess gradually declined in the twentieth century and virtually died out after the Second World War. In Victorian times, the term “divan” was often used because there was a close link between chess, coffee drinking, and tobacco smoking in those days. A magazine article by E. H. Malcolm, dating from 1844, said, “The cigar divans of the metropolis are essentially coffee-rooms, but they are of a distingué character, are more expensive in their charges, and more studied, elegant, and luxurious in their appointments and conveniences.”33 The principal divans mentioned were Gliddon’s, Reis’s [sic], “and another recently opened in Fleet Street.”34 The earliest divan where chess is known to have been played was Gliddon’s in the West End, near the Covent Garden Theatre, which subsequently also became known as Kilpack’s, after its second owner. As a curiosity, it will be seen below that the proprietors of the two principal chess divans— Kilpack and Ries—both had something a little irregular in their marital arrangements. Gliddon’s Divan opened in the early 1820s; there was certainly a Gliddon’s cigar shop at 42 South King Street, Covent Garden, in 1822, and the Divan was originally indoors behind the shop.35 Although the London Gazette of 17 May 1823 listed Arthur Gliddon, tobacconist of King-street for a bankruptcy hearing, he was back in business by October that year, again advertising his “digestive segars.”36 On 4 November 1825, a report in The Examiner said: Gliddon “re-opened his Divan, to a select party of friends. The room is fitted up with much taste, not to say elegance, combining the comfort and quiet of being in one’s own parlour.” Chess was not mentioned in that short article. Two years later, Gliddon’s Divan was redecorated in oriental style. The Examiner of 21 October 1827 said that William Grieve of the nearby Covent Garden Theatre had been called in “to convert the room into a divan of the right Eastern sort” so it was “now a tent festooned on all sides … with views of gulfs, mountains, and islands, adorned with mosques and palaces of really beautiful workmanship…. A man may now turn out of King street, and in half a minute fancy he is taking a cigar in Benares.” It may be relevant that a known lover of the game, Albany Fonblanque (1793–1872), was now on the staff of The Examiner and later became its editor. An advertisement in the Morning Chronicle on 28 February 1828 claimed that Gliddon’s was “patronised by the Officers of the Army and Navy, Gentlemen of the Law, and several of the first Literary Characters.” Chess was mentioned in another advertisement, in the London Courier of 16 April 1828, and subsequently.

It was around the same time, or else in the early 1830s, that the business in King-street changed hands. An advertisement in the Morning Advertiser of 7 June 1832 mentions “Mr. Kilpack’s Divan” although the name of Gliddon was not forgotten because a cigar advertisement in the Morning Chronicle of 7 February 1839 was headed “Cigar Warehouse– Gliddon’s Divan” although undersigned “T. Kilpack, Proprietor.” In December 1832 both Kilpack and another chess resort proprietor, Huttmann, were fined 20 shillings (one pound sterling) for selling coffee at their establishments after the hour of 11 p.m.37 Boase says that Gliddon’s Divan in his time was “much frequented by artists, authors, and actors.”38 Malcolm’s article provides a good general outline of the divans, some of which is applicable to Ries’s and probably Goode’s, before continuing with a detailed description of Gliddon’s Divan as it was in the 1840s under Kilpack’s management. They are elegantly furnished and appointed, with sofas, or cushioned chairs, numerous handsome tables, and chess and draft-boards. The whole of the London newspapers, and many of the provincial ones, are taken in; as are all the magazines and other periodicals; together with sundry of the French, Italian, and colonial journals. The freedom of the room is obtained by the liquidation of less than a shilling, which includes coffee of the best description and cigars. At Gliddon’s, twopence per hour is charged to persons who wish to avail themselves of the room as readers only; and for a subscription of thirty shillings per annum, the latter advantage may be enjoyed daily; writing materials are supplied for the mere extra charge of the stationery; and the divan can be used as an office for correspondence. Gliddon’s is a noble and capacious room, fitted up with true oriental spirit; the walls are ornamented with fresco paintings of oriental scenery, manners and customs; and these have been executed by an artist of evident taste and talent…. The room is often graced with the presence of some of the popular dramatists of the day, together with certain well-known comedians…. Gliddon’s is more select on ordinary weekdays than on a Sunday….39

It is worth going into some detail about Thomas Kilpack (1795–1874), who was evidently a popular and successful businessman, although his establishment has been vastly overshadowed in chess history by Simpson’s Divan.40 He seems to have come of a good family, and in 1818 he married Ann Brand (1800–1835) who bore him nine children, most of whom lived into adult life. She died in early December 1835,41 and 11 months later, on 1 November 1836, Kilpack married her younger sister Georgiana Mary Brand (born 1805) at St. John the Evangelist, Westminster. This was clearly against the law because the 1835 Marriage Act (otherwise known as Lord Lyndhurst’s Act) had expressly forbidden such marriages, although not rendering invalid those solemnized previously (or performed overseas). Despite campaigns throughout the Victorian era, it was not repealed until the Deceased Wife’s Sister’s Marriage Act of 1907. Thomas and Georgiana married in a church some distance away from Gliddon’s, and they must have kept certain facts

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863

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Gliddon’s Divan, from Hone’s Every-Day Book (1830); the illustration, across columns 673–674 in that book, may be by George Cruikshank. This image was reproduced in B.C.M., 1891.

secret from the officiating clergyman. Undoubtedly, we have to assume that the Brand family approved. In particular her elder brother John Wootton Brand (1803–1879), who by then was probably head of the family, must have given his permission and connived at the proceedings. The 1841 census says he was a bookmaker; whereas a lawyer or somebody in a more respectable profession might have not taken the risk. Georgiana bore her husband two children, the younger of whom, Sarah Louisa Kilpack (1839–1909), as a teenager won a scholarship to the Royal Academy of Music; various newspaper reports testify to her skill at the piano.42 However, her mother died in 1863. Sarah continued musical performances for a time but became more famous as a landscape and

seascape painter, in both watercolors and oils, which helped her support family members after her father’s death.43 Between 1867 and 1909 she exhibited annually (the year 1876 excepted) at the Society of Women Artists, totaling 119 works.44 She never married. Lillywhite quotes an anonymous source in the 1840s saying of Kilpack’s Divan that “the leading Chess publications are accessible to visitors … as many as 20 chess-boards in use at the same time.”45 Staunton in his column in 1846 advised “Tyke” that in London there are always “convenient establishments” for playing chess, always open. “On your next visit, seek out Goode’s Café, on Ludgate Hill; or the magnificent Divan in the Strand; or Kilpack’s cozy and

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commodious Chess Rooms, in Covent Garden…”; or the Royal Wine Shades in Leicester Square, which Staunton himself frequented at that time.46 A decade and a half later, when Steinitz came to London, there was probably only one Divan that mattered so far as serious chess was concerned. Purssell’s was never referred to as a divan, because it was a restaurant not a tobacconist, and nor were the Philidorian Chess Rooms in Rathbone Place. Goode’s Divan seems to have existed only in the 1840s. Huttmann’s too was long closed, as were Kling’s chess rooms which was never a divan. Steinitz may well have visited Kilpack’s and played for shillings there in the 1860s. Charles Tomlinson, in the first installment of his memoirs in the February 1891 British Chess Magazine, said he had visited Gliddon’s in 1828. He quoted a similar description from that in The Examiner, and his article included a reprint of our illustration which was originally published in Hone’s Every-Day Book (1830).47 There is no sign of chess being played, but the table in the center of the room was perhaps for games. Tomlinson also recalled that the establishment in King-street maintained the loyalty of chess devotees in one respect, though he was vague in his dating: “Chess was not allowed in the Divan on Sundays, and those players who could not forego [sic] their game on that day congregated at Kilpack’s.” Steinitz would have had no objection to playing chess for money on a Sunday since he was not a Christian; any of his regular opponents willing to meet him on that day were probably also Jewish. Tomlinson also recalled that Kilpack “transferred the Divan to the first floor [i.e., the floor above street level], having converted the Oriental scene below into a gallery for American bowls….”48 Kilpack, like the Purssell family, had gradually diversified and expanded his business. An advertisement in Bell’s Life, 23 January 1848, indicates that T. Kilpack, “twenty years proprietor of the Divan, King-street,” was now also a bookmaker: his “Derby Sweeps are fast filling, and will be drawn early in March.” Another advertisement in the same paper on 23 September 1849 said that his American Bowling Alley was now open daily from 11 a.m. until midnight “for the enjoyment of the manly and invigorating game of bowls.” The advertisement said “Divan and Billiards” as heretofore, but this must be the date when Kilpack moved his less profitable chess divan upstairs. His advertisements in 1850 stress the bowling aspect of his business and none mentioning the Divan were seen after The Era of 5 May 1850. Bowls was probably run by Kilpack’s sons who are sometimes mentioned in reports; but the divan probably remained open during Kilpack’s lifetime. He was still calling himself a tobacconist in the 1871 census; he lived to the age of 80, dying on 10 August 1874.49 A short death notice in The Era recalled that Gliddon’s Divan had been “the favourite trysting-place of the celebrities of forty years ago, and which has since well maintained its reputation.”

The Grand Divan and Simpson’s Good ideas are soon imitated. According to Bird, who began to frequent the Divan in the Strand around 1846, “Simpson’s renowned establishment was opened by Mr. Samuel Ries on its present site 100 and 101 Strand in 1828.”50 Certain details are open to doubt. The Divan was not called Simpson’s until about 20 years later, number 100 was not originally part of the premises, the original proprietor was a brother of Samuel Ries, and the traditionally accepted date 1828 (though likely correct) lacks documentary proof and could be a year too early. It can certainly be seen from the earliest illustration, showing the entrance to the Grand Cigar Divan before it became Simpson’s, that the original premises were situated at numbers 101 and 102 only. Several other chess players, besides Bird, put their memories of the Divan on record in books or chess magazines. In the section of Edge’s book on Morphy for which Walker was credited, it says: Amongst [Gliddon’s] patrons was a Mr. Bernhard Ries, who soon perceived that there was room in London for a similar undertaking on a much larger scale. He accordingly opened a grand chess saloon in the building now occupied by the Divan. This was so far back as 1828. It was, at first, on the ground-floor, in the room known as Simpson’s restaurant, but when Mr. Ries gave up the establishment to his brother, the present proprietor, in 1836, that gentleman transferred the Divan to the vast saloon up stairs.51

The late Ken Whyld, in a posthumously published essay, appears to have accepted this as fact, although whether he found any independent corroboration is unknown since the essay did not include source references.52 The main difference between the Edge account and Whyld’s is that the latter introduced a clause to say the family name was originally Reis (a spelling seen in Malcolm’s article), and that they were of Portuguese descent (as several nineteenth century sources indeed say). Whyld also Anglicized “Bernhard” to “Bernard.” Whether the family was indeed Portuguese seems an open question; their connection to that country may have been distant. The family name Reis (or Reiss, which is also seen in some sources) is certainly of Portuguese origin.53 The Portuguese Sephardic Jews had fled to the Netherlands centuries earlier and one Ancestry family tree says Samuel was born in Hanover, Jamaica.54 (The censuses in which he appears just say “Hanover.”) It may have suited Samuel Ries to let his clientele believe he was, variously, from Portugal or Germany. Whyld went on to say that by 1836 Bernard had moved to Cornhill, had transferred the Divan to his brother Samuel, the Divan itself had been moved to a larger room upstairs, and the spelling of the family name had now been changed to Ries. No other accounts in chess sources mention this brother at all but there certainly was a City merchant named, variously, Bernhard or Bernard Ries. He is mentioned in news reports of 1838 as having got into some trouble by hiring

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The exterior of the Divan before number 100 Strand was incorporated in the premises, so this image may date from the 1830s. (Courtesy Savoy Archive.)

(through a German agent) workers from Prussia to go to work on his estates in Demerara, British Guiana (now Guyana) on three-year indentures, but who did not have the right papers from the Prussian government.55 It appears from this and other sources that Bernhard Ries was in the sugar business, with which the Irish chess master McDonnell was also connected until his death in 1835. McDonnell, in his later years, was a Parliamentary lobbyist and propagandist for the sugar interest (writing several pamphlets on the subject) and these two men would certainly have known each other. Ries’s connection with Demerara is backed up by a report in 1841 which says, “The second March mail has arrived from the West Indies. The papers which it brings are destitute of important intelligence. It is in British Guiana that there seems to be the least stagnation of political affairs…. Mr. Bernhard Ries having failed of raising the necessary funds his Cartabo project, is understood to be taking measures for planting a colony of his own.”56 That does appear to have gone ahead, but a brief family notice in the London

Evening Mail on 23 November 1846 announced the death “on the 14th of October, [of] Josephine, wife of Bernhard Ries, Esq., of George-town, Demerara.” This was the last mention of Bernhard that could be traced. Samuel Ries, though he may have been involved in the tobacco business from the start, was probably too young to have opened the Divan because he had been born only in 1806.57 The main reason for believing that the 1828 date for the Divan opening is premature is that no announcements have been found in the press that year; a date towards the end of 1829 seems more probable. The word “now” in the earliest advertisement so far seen would certainly seem to contradict 1828. The following was placed in the Morning Chronicle of 1 January 1830, which suggests a recent opening: THE GRAND CIGAR DIVAN and ESTAMINET is now OPENED, at 102, STRAND (Late Ackermann’s)—A spacious and lofty saloon has been fitted up, in the most convenient style, for the purpose of affording to the Lovers of Smoking, the means of enjoying that Luxury, in a manner hitherto unprecedented in this country….58

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Advertisements frequently mention that the Divan was situated across that street from Exeter Hall, a well-known concert hall and meeting place which had been built in the 1820s on the site where the Strand Palace Hotel (opened 1909) now stands. Ries’s Divan itself stood on the site of the eighteenth century Fountains Tavern, which was a location for Masonic lodge meetings. The admission price of one shilling included a cigar and a cup of coffee or sherbet. A further advertisement in the Morning Post of 19 January 1830 stated that the dimensions of the saloon were 57 feet by 30 feet. In November that year a subscription billiard room of 53 feet by 30 feet was also opened, presumably on an upper floor. The address was still said to be only 102 Strand, though numbers 101 and 100 are often mentioned later as the business expanded. It is not clear when chess became a major feature at the Divan, but on 20 March 1836 Bell’s Life in London told a correspondent that the neatest wooden chess-men they had seen were of the pattern used in Edinburgh Chess Club. “Several new sets of these men have been introduced in the Simpson’s Divan, Strand, and from the great increase of chessplayers there, that splendid room bids fair to become one of the first Chess Lounges in the metropolis.” This tallies with Whyld’s statement that when the first Westminster Chess Club (where de la Bourdonnais had played his matches with McDonnell) closed, Ries bought from Huttmann “the goodwill and equipment of the Westminster, installed it in his own drawing-room, and offered it to the Westminster members for their own use, each of them having his own latch key.” An advertisement for the Simpson’s Divan on 2 October 1836 in John Bull now gives the address as Nos. 101 and 102, includes the name of Ries, and says that the Westminster Chess Club has removed to “No. 101, contiguous to this establishment.” Before mentioning the chess, the advertisement says that the Divan “has undergone a complete repair, elegantly embellished by some of the first Artists, without regard to expense, being fitted up and decorated after the style of Louis Quatorze, with Ottomans, Sofas and Couches of the most commodious description.” Possibly it was at this time that the move upstairs occurred. Likewise an advertisement in the Morning Post of 23 January 1837 shows that the Divan had been refitted and expanded into premises next door. In 1840 Ries brought the French master de la Bourdonnais to England to play at the Divan, but the latter fell ill and soon died. Bell’s Life in London on 9 October 1836 confirmed that the Westminster Chess Club had indeed removed from their former premises in nearby Bedford Street “to private apartments, at Mr. Ries’s Grand Divan…. Two handsome drawing-rooms are exclusively devoted to the use of the Club, into neither of which may the smoke of tobacco enter.” Those wishing to smoke could go to the “grand saloon.” The article

went on to say that at an outlay of some two or three thousand [pounds] “the Divan has assumed proportions truly regal.” The illustration of the Divan interior, though undated and of unknown original source, appears to match accounts of the room as it was at this time and up to the mid–1860s. The Westminster Club (in Edge’s account at least) eventually lost its independence, some of the players being accommodated at the Divan. When the Hungarian master József Szén visited London early in 1837, a paragraph in Bell’s Life (on 15 January) said that he visited the London and Westminster Chess Clubs daily “and may be met with almost every evening in the Simpson’s Divan.” CROWDED HOUSE EVERY NIGHT. Simpson’s Divan, Nos. 101 and 102 Strand (opposite Exeter Hall).—The re-opening of this establishment has fixed it in public opinion (without exaggeration) as the most magnificent establishment of its kind in Europe; and in addition to its increased grandeur, comforts, and amusements, Mr. Samuel Ries feels pleasure in announcing that he has imported from Swarzwald [sic] a most splendid self-acting musical instrument (the Euterpion), by Blessing, comprising in itself the effect of an entire orchestra. Admission One Shilling, entitling each person to a fine Havannah Cigar, a cup of Coffee à la Français, and the perusal of all the journals and new periodicals.

Malcolm’s aforementioned 1844 article said that “Reis’s [sic] divan … is well worthy the sight-seer’s attention; its charges assimilate with Gliddon’s, and its appointments are equally, if not more, recherché. There are few public refreshment-rooms in this country where the coffee is to be obtained so well brewed and so unadulterated as at the cigar divans.”59 Samuel Ries was a man of ambition and enterprise, who eventually became extremely wealthy, but one of his plans did not come to fruition. In March 1837 an application was made on his behalf for a spirit license, but this bid was strongly opposed by publicans in the area and the Westminster magistrates refused.60 It is also on record in Jewish archives that Samuel Ries, listed in 1838 as a tobacconist at 102 Strand, was a Freemason.61 That seems to indicate a desire to forge business connections to help him get ahead. On 12 September 1837 Samuel Ries married Mary Ann Benjamin, the daughter of Mathew and Leah Benjamin, who was born in 1799 and so several years his senior. They married at Saint Clement Danes church, Westminster, which is somewhat surprising because if both partners were Jewish they were not required to marry in a Christian church; perhaps they were not active practitioners of any faith or her parents (like Benjamin Disraeli) had converted. Their marriage was childless and appears to have ended in separation. In the census of 1861, Mary Ann Ries was a visitor at the house of a widow in Hackney, whereas Ries himself was living at an address in Westminster. Emma Daniels, 44 years old, said to be his niece, was the only family member also resident there.62 On 5 July 1861 Mary Ann Ries was baptized (at the age of 62) at St. Mary’s (Anglican) church in East

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Samuel Ries, proprietor of the Grand Cigar Divan. (From the Illustrated News of the World [of unknown date, ca. 1858– 1863].)

Molesey, Surrey, and she died in Kensington, London, during the last quarter of that same year.63 It soon became evident that Samuel Ries was in an irregular relationship with Ms. Daniels, who was probably not his niece at all. They were married early in 1862; the censuses of 1871 and 1881 show them living together at various addresses. Unlike Kilpack, Ries did not reside at his business premises (at least not by the census of 1841) but had various addresses near the Thames (including Putney and Chiswick), but after his second marriage he was to be found more centrally, in the Marylebone area, perhaps his new wife’s preference. She died on 27 December 1886 when, her probate record shows, she left her husband more than £1,600.64 Samuel Ries himself died on 30 May 1890, leaving a substantial estate of £78,740 11s. 3d. which makes him a multimillionaire in today’s money. One of his two executors was Edmund William Cathie, a business partner, and the other

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was a man from the Bank of England.65 This tends to suggest that Ries always retained a financial interest in Simpson’s, or had sold out for a good price, but it is also possible he had made money from his brother Bernhard’s ventures. The name of Simpson’s derives from John Simpson who is confirmed in several contemporary sources to have been the head waiter at the Divan, although he was to become much more than that, essentially the man in charge of the catering arrangements, with at least a proprietorial interest in his later years. The name John Simpson being so common in England, it is hard to trace him in the genealogical records, but an important clue was found in the basement of Simpson’s-in-the-Strand where, among many other old photographs and memorabilia, are three engravings of the Cremorne Gardens in Chelsea, captioned: “The Cremorne Gardens were under the management of T. B. Simpson, a Brother of John Simpson the Founder of the Restaurant.”66 The only one with a visible date says 1846, which incidentally confirms that although T. B. Simpson was only in direct charge of the management of Cremorne Gardens between 1850 and 1861, he had a financial interest by 1846.67 The businesses of the brothers were sometimes connected. The Morning Advertiser of 9 October 1847 has a notice of the transfer of license for the Albion Tavern, Great Russell Street, from John Simpson to Thomas Bartlett Simpson. As shown below, John was the elder and there was a difference of almost 20 years in their ages, not so unusual in those days. Also a report in the Daily News of 31 January 1855 shows they were two of five men signing a protest about the affairs of the Metropolitan and Provincial Licensed Victuallers’ Mutual Defence Association. Whyld wrote that the management of the restaurant on the ground floor was transferred to Simpson “some time in the 1850s,” but this occurred in 1848.68 The first definite mention of this is an announcement that appeared in the Morning Post (and other papers) on Friday, 6 October 1848, which appears to show that a clear separation had been agreed with Ries concerning the chess divan and the restaurant facilities at 101-102 Strand. The text of the long advertisement began: JOHN SIMPSON’S GRAND RESTAURATUM, adjoining the Divan, opposite Exeter Hall, Strand.—To those who like Good Living, Choice Wines, and Fine Cigars, blended with Economy, John Simpson, whose exertions to merit the approbation of his friends and the public are so well known and appreciated, begs to announce that he has taken the above-named premises, which he will OPEN on MONDAY, October 9…. The establishment will consist of a large coffee room, fitted up as a saloon, communicating with the Divan; also private rooms for parties….

There must have been some last-minute adjustments because later advertisements showed it opened on Wednesday, 11 October. The following month the liquor license for the premises was officially transferred from Samuel Ries to John Simpson.69 Photographs dating from both 1850 and January

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The interior of the Grand Cigar Divan, probably dating from the 1840s. (Courtesy Savoy Archive.)

1901 show that that the building was of four stories with the word DIVAN carved high up into the stonework. Above the doors at street level was signage with the word “Simpson’s Tavern & Divan.” The term “Simpson’s Divan” was perhaps first used in an advertisement in The Era on 13 October 1850. From this point the external appearance of Simpson’s probably remained much the same throughout the second half of the nineteenth century and until the redevelopment that took place in 1903. Present-day Simpson’s-in-the-Strand is an entirely different building; nothing of the original remains. By the 1840s chess had become well established at Ries’s Divan, although some patrons may have come just for the cigars, coffee and the ambience of the great room with its large mirrors and gas lighting. In his 1883 book Chess LifePictures, MacDonnell (who would first have visited in the early 1860s) wrote that: The Grand Divan in the Strand has, with one or two brief intervals, been the most celebrated chess rendezvous in the world…. There, about forty years ago, the late Howard Staunton erected his throne….

He reigned with great glory for ten years…. On his abdication from the throne, a republic was established…. There at the Divan too congregated for years the ablest problem composers of the kingdom….70

Kieseritzky visited England in July 1846, and wrote about the Divan in the Berlin Schachzeitung. He said he only played a few games there, mostly giving odds, but was warmly welcomed by his countrymen Horwitz and Löwe, and also by Riess when the latter (who was away when Kieseritzky arrived) returned from his travels.71 Here is Harold Murray’s translation of parts of the passage concerned, which differs somewhat from Whyld’s in the booklet cited: My first visit was to the great Cigar-Divan in the Strand, whose amicable proprietor, our countryman Riess [sic], had had the kindness already to send me a free card of admission.72 Every visitor must otherwise, on entering the shop through which the staircase leads to the hall, pay a shilling for which he receives a cigar and a card for which he receives upstairs a cup of coffee or tea or a lemonade in exchange. People who neither smoke nor drink coffee pay 6d. The hall is an oblong lighted by five fairly widely separated windows along the longer side. The narrower side would have room for three windows but the middle is reserved for a mirror. The room is

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863 lofty and airy, but very gloomy and at night is insufficiently illuminated. In the center of the room stands a long table covered with many papers in different languages…. There is also a small library of about two thousand volumes, almost entirely in English, among which are some 20 books on chess and papers like the Berlin and Leipzig Schachzeitungs, the Chess Chronicle, Bell’s Life, the English and French Illustration and the Palamede. A deathlike stillness reigns in the hall, since the English are extremely silent, busy themselves only with reading or chess, and even at the latter never lay aside their seriousness and monosyllabic habit. Horwitz and Harrwitz, Löwe, Kling, Kuiper, Von Carnap, Landsberg and Dizi usually come here…. Play at the Divan is usually for a shilling the game, sometimes for a half-crown, rarely for more. Staunton is not often seen there, but Mr. Buckle comes frequently….73

It was Henry Thomas Buckle, author of The History of Civilisation, who won the first chess tournament ever played in England, played at the Divan early in 1849. Walker briefly described the event in Bell’s Life on 4 March but there was a detailed account, with the games, in volume 10 of The Chess Player’s Chronicle (pages 65–89). The competition was run over a period of a few weeks on knock-out lines with 12 competitors who each paid an entrance fee of five shillings. Ries was the treasurer and Captain Evans was appointed referee in case of any disputes. The second round reduced six to three prize-winners, who then all played each other in the final pool. Knockout tournaments were often structured this way unless there was a perfect number of entries that would reduce to two finalists. Finch, a professional at the Divan whose limitations were described in Tomlinson’s memoir of the Divan, was beaten by John Medley, the only first round result that could be considered an upset. The young Bird was a first round loser to the eventual runner-up, George Medley, while Buckle defeated Charles French Smith, an early sparring partner of Bird’s. In the second round Buckle beat Elijah Williams, formerly a pharmacist and journalist in Bristol who came to London to satisfy his chess addiction, and Buckle then won the final pool against the Medley brothers. Williams was one of the stronger players who eked out a meagre living at the Divan in those days. When Williams played in the 1851 London tournament, he defeated Löwenthal 2–1 and Mucklow 4–0 before losing 3–4 to the politician Wyvill. However he won a consolation prize by defeating Staunton 4½–3½, only for Staunton to blame Williams’s slow play for this upset. In 1852 Williams published a book of 150 selected games (more than half of them at odds) entitled Horae Divanianae (“Hours at the Divan”), which was on sale only at the place where they had been played. It includes games not to be found in the chess columns by such players as Bird, Boden, Brien, Buckle, Harrwitz, Horwitz, Arthur Simons, Mongredien, Wyvill, and Williams himself. There are no games by Daniels, a sure sign that his death (of consumption, according to Tomlinson) had occurred before Williams began to collect game scores, and probably before Kieseritzky’s 1846

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visit. When The Field was launched in 1853 Williams was its chess correspondent, contributing weekly articles, but in 1854 these began to peter out as that paper devoted much space to the Crimean War. Williams died in the cholera epidemic of that year, leaving the habitués of the Divan to make a collection for his destitute widow. Captain Kennedy was perhaps the first to bestow the phrase “the very headquarters of Metropolitan chess” upon the Divan.74 This was later elevated by “A. G.” (probably Antony Guest) when, in the March 1891 B.C.M., he went so far as to call the Divan “the headquarters of the world.” Kennedy’s portrait of an evening there can be dated fairly accurately to mid–1848. Kennedy refers to the Amsterdam (versus London) correspondence match which began in January 1848, Alexandre (who died in November 1850) is there, and Simpson, still a waiter according to this account, is asked to bring a copy of Thackeray’s novel Vanity Fair, which was published that year. Notwithstanding Kilpacks and Goode’s, the phrase “the Divan” became synonymous with the one in the Strand. From the 1840s to the mid–1860s there was probably no leading chess player in London—or even a middling or weak one—who did not at some time frequent Simpson’s. For some it was their second home, and for the professionals it was their workplace. Henry Bird patronized the Divan for more than half a century from 1846 to the end of his playing career. He said that when Morphy visited England in 1858 he called the Divan “very nice,” which according to Bird was high praise indeed from the reticent American star. Bird also wrote in his Reminiscences, page 77, that “Steinitz admits that his pre-eminency in Chess is greatly due to the facilities of Simpson’s, and the courtesies of his early opponents.” Tomlinson, writing in 1891, also knew the Divan over more than half a century. He recalled that in 1855 it “was in a flourishing condition.” That was the period when he wrote his long poem “A Vision of the Chess Divan. A Medley,” published in his Chess Player’s Annual for 1856. In this the chess pieces come to life after “weary Simpson” and his customers have gone home. The Divan, wrote Tomlinson, was now less literary and musical than before; the contraption mentioned above (and in Anthony Trollope’s novel The Warden, published in 1855 but researched ca. 1853) had been removed, being unpopular with the chess players. In its best days, Tomlinson said, the Divan was also patronized by “authors, actors, artists, and men about town.” Staunton, however, “was not a favourite at the Divan” though he may well have played there for threepences in his early days. Tomlinson also said that “the excitement at the Divan was perhaps at its height” in 1853 during the long match between Harrwitz and Löwenthal; it was played in a private room but Harrwitz used to go to the Divan afterwards to show that day’s game. Curiously, although Staunton several times recommended the Grand Divan to provincial correspondents wondering

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where they could get a game of chess, the term “Simpson’s Divan” does not appear in the Illustrated London News chess column until 1875 when the editor was Robert Bownas Wormald (1834–1876). Presumably Staunton used to think of it by its old name. For example, on 9 April 1870 he told a reader “Try the Grand Cigar Divan in the Strand. If you are too seldom in London to join a club, you can usually find a competitor there.” In The Era of 1 March 1868 (when it was Staunton who was writing) a correspondent was advised: “Try the Cigar Divan (Simpson’s) in the Strand. You will find there some very good players, and very many indifferent ones, and you can take your choice.” Steinitz never met the famous Simpson. Gareth Williams wrote in his article for Chess that he “died in 1862 and the Divan was sold to Edmund William Cathie,” which implies a sequence of events that may be the reverse of the actual fact, but no business records of Simpson’s prior to 1897 appear to survive.75 Williams certainly had the year of Simpson’s death wrong; perhaps that date was just a tradition handed down, of which nobody knew the source. No previous account of the Divan mentions the following. There is a short death notice in the Morning Post of 6 November 1859 (on page 8, near the foot of the last column) which reads as follows: SIMPSON.—On the 2d. inst. John Simpson, aged seventy-two, much respected, for upwards of thirty years head waiter at the Grand Cigar Divan, 101 and 102, Strand.

This is certainly compatible with Simpson having begun as a waiter but, making good money, expanding into other areas of business with his son while all the while keeping the Strand as his principal interest. Having been born in 1787, he was old enough to have been involved with the Divan from its earliest days and thus a close associate of the Ries family.76 Apparently John Simpson left no will; no probate record was traced online. Presumably, after he died, it was T. B. Simpson who eventually inherited his estate and subsequently sold out to Cathie. The Morning Post of 16 April 1862 published a short advertisement which says the Rainbow Tavern at 15 Fleet Street has “reopened by Simpson and Hale of the Divan Strand.” That followed an earlier advertisement just before the reopening which named W. S. Hale but not Simpson. Similar notices followed in the same and other London newspapers up to June but the advertisement in The Era of 29 June 1862 again mentions. “W. S. Hale of Simpson and Hale’s Divan Tavern, Strand” but not that Simpson himself was involved. In all these cases we may guess that either T. B. Simpson, or his own son John (born 1832), was the man involved.77 Samuel Ries himself probably maintained some involvement. He is still mentioned in chess sources. A report about the London tournament in The Era of 29 June 1862 names “Mr. Ries, the proprietor of the Grand Divan in the Strand,”

as one of those who had “afforded their zealous co-operation to the event.” The contemporary introductions to Games 111 and 250, which date from later in the 1860s, still speak of Ries’s Divan. Also the London trade directory for 1865 and the probate record (cited above) both imply that he maintained a profitable interest in the business all his life, if only as a “sleeping partner.” Cathie’s buying into the Divan and Simpson’s Restaurant was only the first stage in an ambitious plan, which he executed over the next few years. The day before the Divan finally closed in 1903, a news feature article entitled “A Famous Tavern” was published in the Morning Post which must have been written by somebody with knowledge of chess and the history of the place, probably Guest. As that article is not quoted by Whyld or in other histories of the period, here is an extract. Before John Simpson opened the present premises the site was occupied by Reiss’s [sic] cigar divan. Reiss not only catered for smokers, but also for devotees of billiards and chess, and it was through his instrumentality that “Simpson’s” became the most famous chess resort in Europe, for he made the maintenance of a chess room a condition of the new proprietor’s lease…. Formerly, when more extensive accommodation was provided for chess players on the first floor, the Divan was daily crowded with celebrities, but with the growth of the business of the restaurant the chess-room was, something over thirty years ago, moved to the floor above, and in the last few years the glory of Simpson’s as a chess resort has to a marked degree diminished by reason of the formation of a number of clubs that afford amateurs the opportunity of practising the game in their own localities.78

In brief, various investors (Cathie and Ries probably among them) formed a limited company in 1865 using the Simpson name, to attract more investment. This led in 1866 to the relocation of the Divan to a smaller room upstairs, as will be detailed in Chapter 5. Subsequent chapters mention further changes that occurred at Simpson’s. Eventually the Divan closed forever in early 1903 and was then rebuilt as part of the Savoy theatre and hotel complex owned by D’Oyly Carte, the family of the impresario who had the rights to Gilbert and Sullivan’s operettas. It reopened in 1904 with a ground floor restaurant still called the Grand Divan, but it never regained its former importance for chess.79

Odds Games and Playing for Money One of the most striking features of nineteenth century chess literature, to modern eyes, is how many published games were played at “odds,” i.e., the stronger player gave the opponent some material advantage, usually a pawn, and often an extra move too. In those days there were few experts, and the theory of chess openings, and strategy in general, was underdeveloped. Without handicaps, the result of many games would be a foregone conclusion, providing

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The exterior of Simpson’s on the Strand, dating from January 1901. Archivist Susan Scott believes this is how it looked for about half a century prior to the redevelopment of 1903. There is a very similar picture dating from 1850 which has three lamps instead of two, but is otherwise is almost identical. (Courtesy Savoy Archive.)

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little enjoyment for the weaker player or challenge for the stronger. Then, as now, strong players sometimes played inferior opposition in simultaneous displays, but today’s option of giving time handicaps was unavailable. There were no numerical rating systems in the nineteenth century to match opponents of similar skill in contests appropriate to them; these only originated after the Second World War. Club experts periodically reviewed members’ progress and assigned them to “classes.” This in turn determined what odds they gave or received when playing each other, and provided at least an initial basis for comparison with new opponents. Many clubs organized “handicap tournaments,” played on club nights over the winter period, after which handicaps for the following season would be adjusted. A player who performed better than expected, or was clearly improving, would be promoted. A man’s status in the club depended on his “class” but this had nothing to do with socio-economic class. A “first class” or “first-rate” was the top level of amateur; he received odds from nobody, except maybe a champion like Steinitz. Strong players desirous of protecting their reputation sometimes refused to play except at odds. This provided an excuse for losing and concealed the real difference of strength. Players with an inflated opinion of their skill sometimes refused out of pride or ignorance to accept odds, but could be speedily disillusioned in a metropolitan club. Typically opponents differed by one class, the stronger player conceding “pawn and move,” which meant the weaker player moved first while the opponent began without an f-pawn. If they were two classes apart, the pawn was removed and the weaker player would advance both central pawns before Black replied. These traditional odds taught the weaker player to attack, without giving much margin for error, but before a player reached that stage, he had to learn how to defend. A superior player would start minus a knight or rook, trying to overwhelm the novice with tactics before he could develop his extra piece. A “knight class” player (a term often seen in Victorian chess reports) was somebody who received those odds from a first class player—but when meeting a player only slightly more advanced, such a player would receive pawn and move or pawn and two. There were also various other possibilities. Opponents who met regularly might experiment with unusual odds such as the “exchange” (one player began minus a rook and the opponent, minus a bishop or knight). Since few in the 1840s could withstand Staunton unless he conceded odds, he made a careful study of the pawn and two move handicap strategies and also of the different psychology required when offering or receiving various odds. His second book, The Chess Player’s Companion,80 devoted more than 100 pages to discussing types of handicap. Odds chess in clubs or public resorts often involved play-

ing for a small coin, but this was not done to encourage wagers by third parties. The point was to have a good game which each player would have a prospect of winning. A player accepting the right odds should win an equal number of games over a sitting and no money would change hands. The Quarterly Review explained: While games of skill are encouraged, chess must take the lead among them. Of its superiority there can be no more satisfactory proof than the readiness with which it is played for no stake but honour. The shilling or sixpence, which is the regular stake at many clubs, is no contradiction to this rule. It is not staked in order to give an interest in the game, but to compel players to equalise the contest by giving and receiving proper odds.81

One shilling, twice the value of a sixpence, was noted by several writers as the usual rate at Simpson’s whereas sixpence was probably more customary among less affluent players.82 Walker, editor of the first great chess column, initially deplored playing chess for money,83 but by 1840 he had changed his mind.84 Now he said that playing for the small stake to enforce the taking of odds was not professionalism; it was connected with the behaviour and status of players. “It was not the worth of the shilling, but its payment was a tangible acknowledgment of defeat; and when to post it on the mahogany was imperative, the bad player called for odds, and behaved himself to his betters with decency….”85 Later he wrote: “As to the shilling stake usually played for in cigar divans we think it is a very slight tax upon bad players.”86 Outside London, the stake seems to have been less usual,87 or smaller, partly because the abuses Walker complained of were far less likely in a town where players all knew each other and their relative standard. Walker and Staunton were in agreement, as the latter wrote in 1846: “a small stake is usually played for in all Chess Clubs, it having been found impracticable without some such regulation to induce young players to take proper odds with their superiors.”88 Staunton, however saw a clear distinction regarding divans, open to anyone, where he said the custom “is calculated to operate most injuriously upon the interests of the game, by encouraging a set of idle and unscrupulous persons to practise Chess solely for the purpose of reaping a profit from unwary visitors.”89 Staunton, who always called himself an amateur, was probably thinking more of the reputation of the game as a whole than the pockets of those fleeced. There was also something hypocritical in his attitude, as Tomlinson noted in his memoir of the Divan. Though Staunton professed to despise those who played for money, one of the professionals told Tomlinson: “I knew him when he was glad to play for threepence a game.”90 Kolisch, writing a quarter of a century after the time he spent in London, wrote in one of his feuilletons for the Wiener Allgemeine Zeitung that, “The game of chess, by the way, is practiced in England in general and in the Cigar Divan in particular with a seriousness, as if it had the same

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863

Bernhard Horwitz, a regular at the Grand Cigar Divan in its heyday. In the 1860s he lived in Manchester but later returned to London. Steinitz considered him “unquestionably one of the strongest players of his time” and in 1872 at the Crystal Palace they played together in a consultation game. (From The Chess-Monthly, XII [November 1890].)

meaning in terms of cultural history as boxing or the highly popular cricket game.”91 Kolisch’s account of the Divan used “poetic license” as it mingles details from at least two visits—his first, which must have been in 1860, and another (either in 1862 or 1863). He began by saying the historian Henry Thomas Buckle introduced him to Bird, Boden, Horwitz and other chess celebrities, before telling a Steinitz anecdote. Since Buckle died in Damascus on 29 May 1862, it is improbable that he and Steinitz were in the Divan together, or ever met; Buckle had probably already left England before Steinitz’s arrival. Kolisch went on to observe: Steinitz … sat in a corner, absorbed in a serious game. Even then, our Prague compatriot was a first-class player; but, as he was still a long way from enjoying such an important reputation as today, he had to engage in battles with amateurs, who made excessive demands from him.

The story Kolisch then told, though a “tall story,” bears paraphrasing. He said this was “one of the funniest games I have ever had the opportunity to watch.” Steinitz was playing

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against an opponent whom the writer described as a “fullblooded country gentleman.” This man had beside him a much stronger companion, who kicked him as a warning if he seemed about to make a bad move. For the sake of peace and not to lose his wealthy clients in that place, Steinitz pretended not to notice. He had already won four games for the high stake of five shillings per game. “A pound sterling is a big sum when you live from hand to mouth,” wrote Kolisch, but now the opponent proposed playing a final game for “double or quits.” The work of a whole afternoon was at risk. Steinitz would either go home with two pounds or with nothing. When the decisive game began, “John Bull” played with masterful precision until Steinitz could see that his opponent only needed to make a certain bishop move to win the game. As the man extended his hand towards the piece in question, Steinitz, in a moment of inspiration, kicked him under the table. The opponent drew back his hand and calculated the combination afresh but eventually, hand in the air, he once more looked like moving the bishop. Steinitz in despair delivered a second blow. “Now [the opponent] begins to raise his voice and think aloud, but finally, afraid that his friend saw a trap he had overlooked, he eventually moved a different piece—and lost the game.” “But silly man!” exclaimed the angry companion, “why did not you play the Bishop back then?” “I wanted to do it, but you have warned me from all sides with kicks before!” “So that is the meaning of these mysterious hints,” Steinitz interjected with cool insolence, “I have allowed it so far, but I forbid this in future!” When a newcomer arrived at Simpson’s, a waiter would ask him whether he was interested in a game of chess, and if he was, then the customer would be introduced to one of the professional players then present. Professionals were therefore dependent on good relations with the waiters and, in a “kind of tax” as Tomlinson said, were expected at Christmas time to contribute generously to a fund for them. When players of different strengths met for a game at the Divan or similar establishments, the odds initially offered were probably a matter of negotiation, possibly involving an initial game for no stake to determine what odds would be appropriate. Regular visitors would know what odds to request from their professional opponents. Since many of the Divan’s chess-loving clientele were probably weak players, it was even possible for some below master strength to make a tolerable living, or at least to supplement whatever other income they had, by playing for money. From the 1870s onwards, Richard Henry Falkland Fenton (1837–1916) was a wellknown professional player of this type who frequented the Divan and Purssell’s. Genuine masters could sometimes give him pawn and move (see Game 368). Opponents who played on level terms, especially if they

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Steinitz in London

were friends, may not have played for money; without odds there would not have been the same justification for it. Some players may have not played for money on principle. “Boden and Bird were never known to play for a stake, not even for the time honoured and customary shilling,” claimed Bird but whether he just meant in the games between them, or against any opponent is not clear from this.92 Although playing for money in clubs declined, saying exactly when it ended would not be easy. In 1865, Rule XIV of the St George’s Club stipulated a shilling stake, but its final clause hints that it was unusual when meeting friends and regular opponents: “No Member however, shall be obliged to play for a stake, provided that he intimate his objection to do so before commencing a game.”93 Handicap chess died out only slowly. When the Counties Chess Association held its annual congresses in the 1870s and 1880s, players of various standards would meet level in their own groups but a handicap tournament also gave the opportunity for a game with more famous opponents. In the 1890s books were still being published which advised on the best openings to use when giving or receiving pawn and move.94 The Year-Book of Chess for 1907 had, as its first article, advice on how to play at odds.95

After the Tournament After the tournament and Dubois match were over, there was an attempt to arrange another match for Steinitz, but it fell through due to lack of a suitable opponent. He could not play, as originally envisaged, the winner of the Steinitz– Paulsen match because both German masters had returned home. There was talk of a match with Harrwitz, but they could not come to terms. Boden wrote on 16 August in The Field: Neither is unwilling to play, but they cannot agree as to the time limitation—a most important item in chess contests now-a-days, as the elaborate anguish of the last year’s chess matches in the London chess clubs clearly proved. Mr. Harrwitz wished for twenty-four moves in the hour, but Mr. Steinitz declines to accede to more than fifteen moves in the hour. Our own opinion is that fifteen, or at most eighteen, moves an hour is quite speed enough for a match game; and we should not advise Mr. Steinitz to risk meeting Mr. Harrwitz at the latter’s own pace, for we know that Mr. Harrwitz’s sight of the board is so rapid that at double-quick time very few opponents would have a chance with him. We are, however, very glad to find a player of Mr. Harrwitz’s skill making a stand against the infliction of such a grievous bore as the slow play.

Ostensibly the time limit was the issue, but probably Harrwitz did not want to play, and Steinitz never did get a chance for revenge after those early games in Vienna. So for several months, he had to depend for his income on play for small stakes at the Divan, London Chess Club and elsewhere in London, as he had done in the weeks between his arrival in London and the start of the congress.

80. The Rev. G. A. MacDonnell–Steinitz Offhand game, London 1862 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 28); The Field, 18 October 1862 page 364: “an interesting game played lately between Mr. McDonnell [sic] and the ingenious Viennese player Herr Steinitz.”

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d6 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. Nc3 Bg4 10. Qa4 Bd7 11. Qb3 Na5 12. B×f7† Kf8 13. Qd5 Nf6 14. Qg5 K×f7 15. e5 Ne8 16. Qf4† Kg8 17. Ng5 Qe7 18. e6 Bc8 19. Nd5 Qf8 20. Qf7† Q×f7 21. e×f7† Kf8 22. Re1 Bd7 23. f×e8Q† R×e8 24. Bb2 R×e1† 25. R×e1 h6 26. Re7 h×g5 27. R×d7 Rh4 28. N×c7 Re4 29. Bc3 Nc6 30. d5 Ne5 31. Ne6† Ke8 32. R×g7 Re2 33. h3 R×f2 34. Bd4 B×d4 35. N×d4 R×a2 36. R×b7 g4 37. Nf5 g×h3 38. N×d6† Kf8 39. Rb8† Ke7 40. Nf5† Kd7 41. g×h3 Nf3† ½–½ The next three games were probably played against the well-known amateur Dr. William John Wilson of Clay Cross whose dates were 1833/34—19 November 1880.96 The opponent was named as simply Dr. Wilson by both papers and by Bachmann, but Dr. W. J. Wilson was the best known player with that surname in mid–Victorian England. He does not seem to have been in London during the Congress but it is plausible that Dr. Wilson was able to pay a visit to London in the fall.

81. Steinitz–Dr. Wilson Simpson’s Divan, October? 1862 King’s Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 45), from The Era, 26 October 1862, and the Illustrated News of the World, 8 November 1862, saying it was played at Simpson’s Divan; also in The Sporting Gazette, 15 November 1862, and elsewhere.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Nh5 9. Bb5†? Steinitz never repeated this move. In his match with Deacon the following year, he chose 9. Nc3 (Game 100). 9. … Kf8 J. Rosanes–Anderssen, match 1863, went instead 9. … c6! 10. d×c6 b×c6 11. N×c6 N×c6 12. B×c6† Kf8 and Black won a brilliancy. 10. 0–0 Q×h4 11. B×f4 g3 Steinitz plays in his Vienna coffee-house style. Engines at first say 11. … b×e5 wins for Black but after seeing 12. d×e5 g3 13. Bh6† Kg8 14. Rf3 Bg4 15. Nd2 they begin to see White has compensation. 12. Bh6† Kg8 13. Rf3 Qh2† 14.  Kf1 This game is an early example of Steinitz “liking to take his King for a walk.” 14. … Qh1† 15. Ke2 Q×g2† (see diagram) 16. Ke3! This finish from Löwenthal’s columns in The Era and the Illustrated News of the World matches Bachmann. The Illustrated Weekly News of 29 November 1862 gave instead 16. Kd3 f6 17. Bc4 f×e5 18. Rf8† B×f8 19. d6† “and wins,” with ChessBase’s Mega Database 2017 concluding 19. … Be6

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863

rhbDwDk4 0p0wDpDp wDwgwDwG DBDPHwDn wDw)wDwD DwDwDR0w P)PDKDqD $NDQDwDw

After 15. … Q×g2†

20. B×e6 mate. Apart from the sources for 16. Ke3 being more reliable, there is also a technical reason why 16. Kd3 is a mistake: Black can fight on with 16. … B×e5 17. R×f7 Nf4†! 16. … f6 16. … B×e5 is not so strong now because after 17. d×e5 Bg4?? White wins brilliantly by 18. R×f7! and if 18. … B×d1? 19. Rf8 mate. 17. Bc4 f×e5 18. Rf8† B×f8 19. d6† Be6 20. B×e6 mate (1–0)

82. Steinitz–Dr. Wilson Simpson’s Divan, October? 1862 Two Knights Defense (C57) Bachmann (game 43); I.L.N., 25 October 1862.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. Ng5 N×e4?! 5. B×f7† Ke7 6. d3 Nf6 7. Bb3 d5 8. 0–0 Bg4 9. f3 Bh5 10. Nc3 Nd4 11. Qe1 Kd7 12. Q×e5 Bc5 13. Kh1 Re8 14. Qg3 c6 15. f4 Nf5 16. Qh3 Bg6 17. Nf3 Bd6 18. Ne5† Kc7 19. Bd2 Qc8 20. Rae1 Bh5 21. g4 B×e5 22. f×e5 B×g4 23. Qg2 Nh5 24. e6 R×e6 25. Q×g4 R×e1 26. B×e1 1–0

83. Dr. Wilson–Steinitz Simpson’s Divan, October? 1862 King’s Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 44); I.L.N., 25 October 1862; T.C.W., III (1867/68) pages 95–96. At the end, The Chess World added “The winner deems it right to say that, although victorious in this instance, he makes no pretensions to rival his opponent, whom he readily acknowledges to be his superior in play.”

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 d6 6. N×g4 Be7 7. d4 B×h4† 8. Nf2 Bg3 9. Nc3 Qg5 10. Qd3 Nf6 11. Ne2 Nc6 12. c3 Ng4 13. N×g3 N×f2 14. K×f2 f×g3† 15. Kg1 Qg6 16. Rh6 Qg7 17. Bf4 Rg8 18. Re1 Qg4 19. Qe3 Bd7 20. Be2 Qg7 21. e5 d5 22. e6 f×e6 23. B×c7 Ke7 24. Bh5 Nd8 25. Qf4 Nf7 26. B×f7 Q×f7 27. Qd6† Ke8 28. Re×e6† T.C.W. says Black resigned here but there was a further move pair in I.L.N.: 28. … B×e6 29. R×e6† 1–0. The story of the next game had to be pieced together because Bachmann game 42 had only the finish of this game, starting with a diagram after White’s 16th move, and calling White “N.” The moves leading up to it had been published as “Endspiel LXVI” in D.S.Z., XVIII (February 1863 page 52),

85

saying it was recently played at the Cigar Divan and “In this position Black (Herr Steinitz) to move can force mate in all lines in at most four moves.” The primary source was a Belfast newspaper, the Weekly Northern Whig, 1 November 1862, which said the loser was a Belfast amateur and that the game had been played at Simpson’s in October. It was republished in The Illustrated Weekly News, 15 November 1862 (with a correction to the score on 20 December), which stated no circumstances but named White as Mr. Tennant; The Tennants were a Belfast business family. Löwenthal also published the game, without naming the loser, in The Era, 30 November 1862, and the Illustrated News of the World, 6 December 1862, only saying that it was played against an amateur at the Simpson’s Divan.

84. Tennant–Steinitz Simpson’s Divan, October 1862 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 42); Weekly Northern Whig, 1 November 1862, etc.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7.  d4 e×d4 8.  c×d4 Bb6 9.  Nc3 Bg4 10.  h3 h5 “The Bishop might be taken with perfect safety?” said the Whig, but the Illustrated Weekly News said “Taking the Bishop would expose him to a dangerous attack.” The D.S.Z. reversed the order of the move pairs 10 and 11. 11. d5 Ne5 12. Be2 B×f3 13. g×f3 Illustrated Weekly News: “This was very ill advised. He should rather have captured with the Bishop.” 13. … Qh4 14. Kh2 Nf6 15. Rg1 B×f2 16. Rg2 This was the test position in D.S.Z. 16. … Nfg4† “and wins” said the Illustrated News of the World. Either knight to g4 would do (0–1). After 16. … Nfg4† the Illustrated Weekly News ended inaccurately with 17. f×g4 saying “Black mates in two moves,” but it takes longer. Bachmann offered the variations 17. Kh1 Q×h3† 18. Rh2 Q×h2 mate, or 17. f×g4 Q×h3† 18. K×h3 h×g4 mate, or the longest line 17. R×g4 N×g4† 18. f×g4 (D.S.Z. also pointed out 18. Kg2 Qg3† and mate next move.) 18. … Qg3† 19. Kh1 Q×h3 mate.

85. Steinitz–Mr. J Queen’s knight odds, Simpson’s Divan, 30 October 1862 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 83); first published in The Field, 8 November 1862, page 423: “Annexed is a very pretty game, played the other evening at Mr. Ries’ Great Chess Room, wherein Mr. Steinitz gave the Queen’s Knight to an amateur of very fair skill.” This game was republished in The Era on 28 February 1864 with the opponent just called “Amateur,” and a different move sequence 7–9 which was repeated in the I.L.N., 14 May 1864, D.S.Z., 1864, page 405, and in Bachmann who named the opponent as “G” for unknown reasons, whereas The Field had “J.”

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Steinitz in London

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. h3 The Field had the more conventional move order 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. h3 but we follow I.L.N. etc. because it is likely that, giving odds, Steinitz wished to depart from “book” at an early stage. 7. … Nf6 8. d4 e×d4 9. c×d4 Bb6 10.  e5 d×e5 11.  Ba3 N×d4 12.  N×e5 Ne6 13.  Qa4† Bd7 14.  Qb3 c5 15.  Rad1 Qe7 16.  Rfe1 0–0 17.  N×d7 N×d7 18. B×e6 f×e6 19. R×e6 Qf7 20. R×d7 Q×f2† 21. Kh2 c4 22. Qd1 Rf5 23. Ree7 Rg5 24. Qd5†! Kh8 25. Q×g5 Qg1† 26. Kg3 Qf2† 27. Kg4 Q×g2† 28. Kf5 Qf3† 29. Qf4 Qh5† 30. Ke6 Qg6† 31. Ke5 Qh5† 32. Qf5 Qe2† 33. Kd6 Qd2† 34.  Ke6 Qe2† 35.  Kf7 Q×a2 36.  Bd6 c3† 37.  Re6 Bd4 38.  Ke7 c2 39.  Rd8† R×d8 40.  K×d8 Bb6† 41.  Ke7 h6 42. R×h6† g×h6 43. Be5† Kg8 44. Qg6 mate (1–0).

86. Mr. G–Steinitz London Chess Club, November 1862 King’s Bishop’s Gambit (C33) Bachmann (game 88); The Sporting Gazette, 29 November 1862, etc.

Bachmann included this game twice in Schachmeister Steinitz. In volume 1, game 88, page 88 he said “played at the London club 1865” but in volume 2 of the first edition as game 400 (pages 9–10) he dated it to “London 1877.” The duplicate was removed from the second edition. ChessBase have called this “London international 1865” but apart from the fact that there was no international tournament in London between 1863 and 1871 (inclusive), it was played much earlier than Bachmann said. The original publication (with a slightly different move order at 6–7) was in The Sporting Gazette, with the opponent anonymous: “The following interesting little partie was recently contested between Mr. Steinitz and a leading member of the London Chess Club.” Subsequently it appeared in The Household Chess Magazine, number 1 (31 January 1865), B.L.L. for 24 June 1865, T.C.W., I (1865–66), page 73, in Howard Taylor’s Chess Brilliants game LXVIII, page 70, and in later collections. 1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Bc4 d5 4. B×d5 Qh4† 5. Kf1 Ne7 Staunton observed in T.C.W.: “This defence is somewhat abnormal, but Herr Steinitz’s object in thus departing from the stereotyped line of play was doubtless to throw his adversary on his own unassisted resources. Nothing more commonly tends to embarrass the mere ‘book’ player than a judicious deviation from the regular routine of the openings.” 6. Nc3 This is the move order in B.L.L. and T.C.W. but in The Sporting Gazette the same position was reached via 6. Nf3 Qh5 7. Nc3 g5. 6. … g5 7. Nf3 Qh5 8. h4 h6 9. Kg1 g4 10. Nd4 f3 11. g×f3 g×f3 12. Q×f3 Rg8† 13. Kf1 Bg4 14. Qf6? Nd7 15. Qf4 N×d5 16. N×d5 Bc5 17. N×c7† Kd8 18. N×a8 Bh3† 19. Ke1 Bd6 20. Q×d6 Q×h4† 21. Ke2 Ellis, Chess Sparks, ended here: “and Black gives mate in four moves.”97 21. … Q×e4† 22. Kf2 Rg2† Here The Sporting Gazette just said

“and wins.” 23. Kf1 The Household Chess Magazine just says Black announced mate in two moves. B.L.L. and T.C.W. gives mate as played: 23. … Rh2† This is the move given in B.L.L. and Taylor’s book. An alternative finish is given in Bachmann, ChessBase and Pickard (game 617): 23.  … Re2† 24. R×h3 Qg2 mate. 24. Kg1 Qg2 mate (0–1). On Saturday, 15 November there was a special gathering at the London Chess Club with several masters present, Steinitz included. Dubois was still in England, while Harrwitz and Kolisch had recently returned to England, the latter after visits to Paris, Genoa, and (possibly) Spain.98 Löwenthal reported in The Era eight days later that “Each of these gentlemen played over some of the best games in which he had ever been engaged” which the club members found very interesting.

87. Steinitz–A. Mongredien London Chess Club, December? 1862 Modern Defense (B06) Bachmann (game 63). Although some date this game to 1863, Wormald had already published it in 1862 (with a slight move order difference at moves 9–10) in The Sporting Gazette Limited, 27 December 1862, as “Between Mr. Steinitz and a leading Member of the London Chess Club.” Contrary to Bachmann, there was no mention of a match.

The version of the score in C.P.M., I (1863), page 112, is probably correct. It is curious that Bachmann followed that in his first edition but in his second edition he included annotations by Réti with a variant move order which ChessBase has copied; see note to move 11. Yet in Réti's Masters of the Chess Board (pages 28–29 in Bell's English descriptive edition) the C.P.M. move order was restored. 1. e4 g6 2. d4 Bg7 3. c3 b6 4. Be3 Bb7 5. Nd2 d6 6. Ngf3 e5 7. d×e5 d×e5 8. Bc4 Ne7 9. Qe2 0–0 9. … Nd7 10. h4 0–0 is the move order in the Sporting Gazette, saying of Black’s 10th move: “This looks hazardous.” We prefer the C.P.M. move order as it seems more credible that Steinitz would have advanced h2–h4 only after Black castled. 10. h4 Nd7 11. h5 Nf6 As in the Sporting Gazette and C.P.M., whereas Bachmann's second edition and those who copy him have instead 11. … c5 12. h×g6 N×g6 13. 0–0–0 a6 14. Ng5 Nf6. 12. h×g6 N×g6 13. 0–0–0 c5 14. Ng5 a6 15. N×h7! N×h7 16. R×h7 K×h7 The Réti notes in Bachmann give a nice variation 16.  … b5 17.  Qh5!? B×c4 18.  R×g7† and wins, but 17.  Rdh1 is even deadlier. 17.  Qh5† Kg8 18.  Rh1 Re8 19. Q×g6 Qf6 20. B×f7† Q×f7 21. Rh8† K×h8 22. Q×f7 1–0

Blackburne Match Rimington Wilson, one of those whom Blackburne defeated in his blindfold exhibition during the Congress, donated a

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863 prize of £10 to the London Chess Club for the Manchester newcomer to play a match with one of the foreign masters. The new star Steinitz was the obvious choice but Blackburne was in Manchester and unavailable to return to the capital until December. The London Chess Club increased the prize fund to £15, including a small prize for the loser, and the winner would be the first to score seven games, with (as usual for matches of this period) draws not counting. The match is treated only summarily here (apart from one new finding) because it was examined in detail in this author’s biography of Blackburne.99 As explained there, Bachmann’s account, in addition to some minor mistakes, includes two games that were not part of the contest. It soon became clear that Blackburne was out of practice, having played mostly blindfold exhibitions against weak opponents in the meantime. On arrival in London, Blackburne lost at least two practice games with Harrwitz and underperformed throughout the contest with Steinitz. Play began on Monday, 15 December and, after a short break for Christmas, ended on 5 January 1863 in victory for Steinitz by 7–1 with two draws. Interest in the press and public soon evaporated once it became clear that the foreigner was going to thrash the Englishman, which explains why the later games were not preserved in the press. There was more interest in the match going on at the same time between MacDonnell and Mackenzie. Bachmann (pages 54–55) dates the whole match to January 1863 but The Field, 20 December 1862, said it began “last Monday,” i.e., 15 December, and The Sporting Gazette dated the final game. The precise dates of the other games cannot be ascertained but the drawn second game must have been played in time for the score at that stage to be included in The Sporting Gazette of 20 December. The Era of Sunday, 28 December published the first two games and said the score was then Steinitz 2 Blackburne 1 with one draw. Blackburne had won the third game, not the fourth as usually stated, because the usual sources have the wrong game, which had the reverse colors; Steinitz had White in odd numbered games. The sequence of games in Bachmann, Hooper and Pickard is incompatible with the facts; at least Di Felice’s Chess Results correctly had the second draw as game 6. Hübner, in his article for Caissa 2016/1, came independently to the same sequence as in the author’s Blackburne, except for the final game—and he also discovered one of the missing games.

88. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Match (1), 15 December 1862 Owen’s Defense (B00) Bachmann (game 47); The Era, 28 December 1862; Blackburne (game 60). This game is deeply analyzed in Hübner’s article; just a few turning points are highlighted here.

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1. e4 b6 2. d4 Bb7 3. Bd3 e6 4. Nc3 g6 5. Be3 Bg7 6. Qd2 d6 7. Nge2 Nd7 8. 0–0 Ne7 9. f4 0–0? was necessary—Hübner. 10. f5 e×f5 11. e×f5 Nf6 12. Bh6 Qd7 13. Ng3 Rae8 14. Qg5 B×h6 15. Q×h6 Kh8 16. Nce2?! 16. Nh5! N×h5 17. f×g6 Hübner. 16. … Nfg8 17. Qh4 Qd8 18. Nf4? Nd5 19.  Q×d8 R×d8 20.  Rae1 N×f4 21.  R×f4 g5 22.  Rf2 f6 23. Rfe2 Bd5 24. c4 Bf7 25. d5 Rfe8 26. Kf2 Re5 27. b3 h5 28. R×e5 d×e5 29. Ne4 Kg7 30. Nc3 c6 31. Be4 c×d5 32. N×d5 B×d5 33. c×d5 Ne7 34. Rd1 Nc8 35. Rc1 Nd6 36. Rc7† Kf8 37. Bd3?! 37. Ke3 (Hübner) 37. … Ke8! 38. R×a7 Rc8= (Stockfish). 37. … e4 38. Bc4 N×f5 39. R×a7 e3† 40. Ke2 Re8 41. Rh7 Nd4† 42. Kd3? A faulty winning try. 42. … Kg8 43.  Re7 R×e7 44.  d6† Rf7 45.  K×d4 Kf8 46.  Kd5 Ke8 47. Kc6 Kd8 48. K×b6 f5 49. a4 Rf6? Blackburne could have won with 49. … Kd7 (Löwenthal); his next move threw away the second half point. 50. Kc6 f4? 50. … Re6= Hübner. 51. a5 Kc8 52.  a6 Kb8 53.  b4 Rf8 54.  d7 Rf6† 55.  Kd5 Kc7 56. d8Q† K×d8 57. a7 1–0

89. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Match (2), 17? December 1862 Dutch Defense (A82) Bachmann (game 48); The Era, 28 December 1862; Blackburne (game 61).

The Sporting Gazette of 20 December gave the match score as Steinitz 1 Blackburne 0 and a draw, so game 2 must have been completed by its deadline. There are three possible dates for it: the 16th, 17th or 18th. 1. d4 f5 2. e4 f×e4 3. Nc3 e6 4. N×e4 Nf6 5. Bd3 Be7 6. Nf3 N×e4 7. B×e4 d5 8. Bd3 Bf6 9. 0–0 0–0 10. Ne5 Qe7 11. f4 c5 12. c3 Nc6 13. Be3 c×d4 14. c×d4 Bd7 15. Rc1 g6 16. Qg4 B×e5 17. f×e5 R×f1† 18. R×f1 Rf8 19. R×f8† Q×f8 20. Bd2 ½–½ Since The Era of 28 December 1862 said the score so far was Blackburne 1 Steinitz 2 with a draw, and its later report of 18 January 1863 included the drawn fourth game of the match, it follows that Blackburne must have won the third and the following is probably the authentic game. This was the only match game Steinitz ever lost to Blackburne, but in regular tournament games throughout their career (not counting the Vienna 1873 playoff) Blackburne scored 8–6 with four draws. The game usually said to be Blackburne’s only win in the match (number 114 below) cannot have been from this contest at all.

90. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Match (3), 19? December 1862 Sicilian Defense (B23) Hübner annotated this game in Caissa 2016/1, saying he found the score (along with several other previously unknown games from the 1860s) in a manuscript notebook

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Steinitz in London

which had belonged to a descendant of J. W. Rimington Wilson. He pointed out that Steinitz missed the winning Bb4† at both moves 29 and 30, and threw away the game.

1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 e6 3. Nc3 d5 4. d4 c4 5. Bd2 Nc6 6. Be2 Bb4 7. 0–0 Nge7 8. e×d5 e×d5 9. b3 c×b3 10. a×b3 0–0 11. Na2 Bd6 12. c4 Bg4 13. Bc3 Re8 14. Nc1 Rc8 15. h3 Bh5 16. Nd3 Bb8 17. g4?! Bg6 18. Re1 h5 19. g×h5 B×h5 20. Nfe5 B×e2 21. Q×e2 d×c4 22. b×c4 N×d4 23. Qh5 g6 24. Qg4 Ndf5 25. h4 Nh6 26. Qg2 Nef5 27. N×g6?! f×g6? 28. Q×g6† Kf8 29. R×e8†?! Q×e8 30. Qf6†?? Qf7 31. Qg5 Q×c4 32. Rc1 Qe6 33. Kh1 Kf7 34. Re1 Qd5† “and won” (0–1). It is safe to conclude from The Field of 27 December, and The Era next day, that four games were played before a Christmas break. Christmas Day in 1862 fell on Thursday. A plausible guess is that the third game of the match was played on the 19th and the next on Monday the 22nd, after which Blackburne returned home to Manchester for a few days. Possibly the fifth game was also played before Christmas. The London Chess Club would have been closed on Sundays and on 25 December, but it is uncertain whether its doors were closed on other days. Probably the match resumed on the 27th or 29th of December because it is known the last game was played on Monday, 5 January.

91. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Match (4), 22? December 1863 Dutch Defense (A83) Bachmann (game 50) incorrectly said this was the sixth game, overlooking the primary source which is The Era of 18 January 1863. See also Blackburne (game 63).

1. d4 f5 2. e4 f×e4 3. Nc3 e6 4. N×e4 Nf6 5. Bg5 Be7 6. Bd3 N×e4 7. B×e7 Q×e7 8. B×e4 0–0 9. c3 Nc6 10. Qe2 d5 11. Bc2 Qg5 12. g3 e5 13. d×e5? “Suicide” said Hübner; 13. Nf3=. 13. … Bg4 14. Qe3 Qh5 15. f4? 15. f3 was the last chance. 15. … N×e5 16. f×e5 Rae8 17. B×h7† K×h7 18. Qd4 Qg5 19. h4 Q×e5† (0–1). ChessBase call this game 6 and give 19. … R×e5†; it would mate faster but it is not what was played.

92. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Match (5), 27 or 29 December? 1862 French Defense (C01) Bachmann (game 51) calls this game 7 but The Era clearly states it was game 5. See also Blackburne (game 64).

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e×d5 e×d5 5. Nf3 Nf6 6. Bd3 0–0 7. 0–0 Bg4 8. Kh1 c6 9. Ne2 Bd6 10. Ne5 Nbd7 11. f4 Re8 12. Bd2 Nf8 13. h3 B×e2 14. Q×e2 N6d7 15. Qf2 f6 16. Rae1 f×e5 17. f×e5 Bc7 18. Qf7† Kh8 19. Qh5 Re6?! 19. … Re7!? (Hübner.) 20. Rf7 Qe8 21. Ref1 h6? 21. … Kg8 was necessary. 22. Qg4 B×e5 23. d×e5 Ng6. 24. B×h6!? 24. B×g6 was simplest. 24. … g×h6 25. B×g6 N×e5 26. Rf8†

Kg7 27. R×e8 Simplest was 27. B×e8† (Löwenthal). 27. … Ra×e8 28. Qd4 K×g6 29. Q×a7 R6e7 30. Qf2 Re6 31. Qf5† Kg7 32. g4 b5 33. c3 R8e7 34. b3 Nd7 35. a4 b×a4 36. b×a4 Nc5 37. Qf8† Kg6 38. a5 h5 39. g×h5† K×h5 40. Rg1 Ne4 41. Qf5† Kh6 42. Qf4† 1–0

93. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Match (6), 30? December 1862 Ruy Lopez (C67) Bachmann (game 52) wrongly called this the eighth game but The Era, 1 February 1863, said “Game VI”; see also Blackburne (game 65).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 N×e4 5. Re1 Nd6 6. N×e5 Be7 7. Ba4 N×e5 8. R×e5 0–0 9. d4 Bf6 10. Re1 Re8 11.  c3 b5 12.  Bc2 Bb7 13.  Bf4 R×e1† 14.  Q×e1 Qe8 15. Nd2 Q×e1† 16. R×e1 Re8 ½–½

94. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Match (7), January 1863 French Defense (C01)? (1–0) SCORE MISSING

There are no contemporary reports on this game but Steinitz must have won. It was probably played in the first days of 1863. The seventh game (or possibly the ninth) of the match may have been that to which Steinitz referred in International Chess Magazine (1888, page 54), in his annotations to Zukertort–Mason, London B.C.A. 1887, which began: 1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e×d5 e×d5 5. Nf3 Nf6 6. Bd3 Bg4 7. 0–0 0–0 8. Ne2. Steinitz here wrote that: “The present position first occurred in a game between the Editor (White) and Mr. Blackburne in their first match in 1863, and the move in the text has since been recognized as the strongest at this juncture. In the above-named game Black played here 8. … B×f3 whereupon White, after retaking (9. g×f3) obtained a fine attack by removing Kh1 followed by Rg1, and then manoeuvring his Queen via f1 to h3.”

95. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Match (8), January 1863 (0–1) SCORE MISSING Steinitz must have won; no further definite information was found.

96. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Match (9), January 1863 Evans Gambit (C51)? (1–0) SCORE MISSING

Steinitz must have won; no definite information was found. Possibly the game began 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 d5 5. e×d5 N×b4 6. Ba3 Qe7 7. 0–0 Bg4 8. d4 B×f3 9. g×f3 … The Chess Player’s Magazine, I (1863) pages 42–43, published a Steinitz–Deacon friendly (Game 44) in which White

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863

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played 9. Q×f3. In his notes, Falkbeer commented that: “In one of his match games against Mr. Blackburne, Mr. Steinitz played [at] this point, 9. g×f3 and we think it preferable to the move in the text.” There are a couple of later games on record where Blackburne himself played 9. g×f3. On the other hand, comparing this with the note to Game 94, it does seem unlikely that twice in the match Blackburne inflicted the doubled f-pawn and Steinitz then exploited the open g-file. Although Falkbeer was writing much nearer in time to the events, he may not have been an eyewitness, and the opening variation in Steinitz’s version appears more plausible.

for money, or (which essentially comes to the same thing) were happy to pay Steinitz for chess tuition? What were the matters “neither pleasant nor of friendly nature” which Steinitz wished to raise with Kolisch but not until he had repaid? What was the new literary engagement which would put Steinitz back in funds? There is no record of Steinitz writing under a byline in the 1860s, but perhaps there was a German-language publication, either in Britain or Vienna, for which he was able to become a London correspondent?102 Only one game, the following, is known that was definitely played in the interval of two or three months between Steinitz’s matches against Blackburne and against Deacon.

97. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz

98. (R. B.) Brien–Steinitz

Match (10), 5 January 1863 (0–1) SCORE MISSING

Steinitz must have won. No further definite information was found except that this game can be dated precisely because The Sporting Gazette of 10 January said the match ended “last Monday.” The game score, which is printed as Bachmann game 53 as the final game of the match, and copied by many subsequent sources, cannot have been part of the match at all, as explained in Blackburne (page 43); the moves will be found as Game 113 in this chapter. Hübner included it in his original article about the match for Caissa 2016/1 (written before he had seen our book) but in the next issue he agreed that we were right on this point. An interesting postscript to the match was revealed by Landsberger in The Steinitz Papers. He came into possession of some letters from Steinitz, of which the following is one.100 On 20 March 1863 Steinitz replied to a letter which Kolisch had sent him on 2 March, apparently requesting repayment of a loan, which Steinitz had borrowed perhaps around the time of their meeting on 15 November 1862. Sent from London and dated 20 March 1863, here is Landsberger’s translation of the German original: Dear Mr. Kolisch It is not my habit to forget old friends, even less so my creditors. If I have not written to you until now and have not sent you your money it was only because I found myself in unfavorable circumstances. During the time I played the match with Blackburne I was forced to neglect previous engagements and Mr. Harrwitz used this opportunity to take over those members of the London Club which were previously my main source of income. Through acceptance of a new engagement for my literary activity I find myself now in the position to compensate you for my debt by the middle of next month. Anything else I could write to you is neither pleasant nor of friendly nature and I shall therefore prefer to wait until such a time when I am not in your debt any longer. In appreciation, your, Wilhelm Steinitz.101

This letter is revealing about Steinitz’s difficult circumstances during his first few months in London. Who were the London Club members who regularly played with Steinitz

Simpson’s Divan, early 1863 King’s Gambit (C37) Bachmann (game 62); Illustrated News of the World, 28 March 1863. The opponent named as Brien was presumably R. B. Brien, former editor of C.P.C.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. Nc3 g×f3 6. Q×f3 Bh6 7. 0–0 Nc6 8. d4 Qf6 9. e5 Qg7 10. B×f4 N×d4 11. Qh5 Qg6 12. B×f7† Q×f7 13. Q×f7† K×f7 14. B×h6† Kg6 15. Bf8 d6 16. e×d6 Bf5 17. Be7 c×d6 18. B×d6 Nf6 19. Be5 N×c2 20. B×f6 K×f6 21. Rac1 Ne3 22. Rf3 Ng4 23. Rcf1 Nh6 24. g4 Rag8 25. R×f5† N×f5 26. R×f5† Ke6 27. h3 h5 and Black won the game: (0–1).

Match with Deacon Chapter 2 revealed that Steinitz had played some casual games with Deacon before the London 1862 tournament but in the competition itself Deacon had defaulted their game. He was back in London on Tuesday, 28 April 1863, when he played six blindfold games simultaneously at the Blackheath Chess Club in the presence of many spectators including Löwenthal (who reported in his Era column) and several ladies. This was Deacon’s first attempt to play so many games blindfold and the games were unfinished, with Deacon having three winning positions, two about equal and one unfavorable. Deacon consented to give a similar exhibition at the St. James’s Chess Club. The following game, of doubtful provenance, may have been played around this time.

99. Steinitz–F. H. Deacon Casual game, London, April? 1863 Elephant Gambit (C40) Bachmann (game 61) called this an offhand game in London during 1863. No primary source has been found. In view of Black’s speculative opening, some skepticism about its authenticity must remain.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 d5 3. e×d5 e4 4. Qe2 Qe7 5. Nd4 g6 6. c4 Bg7 7. Nc2 Nd7 8. d3 f5 9. d×e4 f×e4 10. f3 Ngf6 11. Nd2

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Steinitz in London

Nc5 12. f×e4 Bg4 13. Qe3 0–0 14. Be2 Rae8 15. 0–0 B×e2 16. Q×e2 Nc×e4 17. Nb3 Qd6 18. Be3 Ng5 19. Qd3 Ng4 20. R×f8† B×f8 21. g3 Nf3† 22. Kg2 Nfe5 23. Qe2 N×c4 24. Q×g4 N×e3† 25. N×e3 R×e3 26. Rd1 Bg7 27. Nd4 Kh8 28.  Nb5 Qf6 29.  Rf1 Q×b2† 30.  Rf2 Qe5 31.  d6 c×d6 32. N×d6 Qe6 33. Qf4 h6 34. N×b7 Ra3 35. Nd6 R×a2 36. Ne4 a5 37. h4 a4 38. h5 R×f2† 39. K×f2 a3 40. Qb8† Qg8 41. Qa7 a2 0–1 Several newspapers soon announced that the London Chess Club had arranged a match between Steinitz and Deacon, offering prizes to both winner and loser. The first seven won games would decide and the time limit was 24 moves in two hours.103 That rate of play (averaging five minutes per move) must seem generous to twenty-first century players but it seemed to be too fast for Deacon. The contest began on Monday, 27 April (as stated in The Sporting Gazette on 2 May) with a game that later elicited the praise that “Steinitz is the Greco of the present time.”104 Four games were supposed to be played each week but the precise dates of play of the other games were never published. This author’s estimated dates are as follows: game 2 in the last week of April, game 3 about the 2nd of May and game 4 about 5 May. Since The Field of 9 May gives the score as 3–1 to Steinitz it cannot have been later than the evening of Thursday, 7 May. Then The Field on 16 May said score was now 4–1 to Steinitz with two draws, but that must have been a mistake as there was only one draw in the match. So between 7 May and about 13 May Steinitz won a game and the drawn fifth game was also played. After (probably) six games, there was a long delay in finishing the match, said to be caused by the illness of both players. Presumably Deacon returned to Belgium for a period, although this is nowhere stated explicitly. The next game was not played until mid–June, whereupon Deacon gave up prematurely. The first number of the Chess Player’s Magazine (July 1863), the only issue edited by Harrwitz before he was sacked by the proprietors, had a report, starting on page 5,105 which said that the match, having been “interrupted by the indisposition of both competitors,” was resumed and brought to a conclusion “last week.” Deacon had resigned the match although Steinitz had scored only five wins instead of the seven originally stipulated. The magazine also said the final score was 5 to 1 with one draw and published the seven games in numbered sequence on pages 5–12. Some of these games had earlier been published in chess columns while others, annotated by Harrwitz, were given to The Field as samples of what would appear in C.P.M. On the face of it, this was a straightforward result, and all Steinitz collections from Bachmann onwards have followed the C.P.M., but several discrepancies in the accounts need to be pointed out, concerning the number of drawn games. The dating of the end of the match can be seen from the fol-

lowing reply by Boden, in reply to a correspondent, in The Field of 27 June (page 623): J.B.—The match between Messrs. Steinitz and Deacon appears to have come to an end without being finished. After the playing of the last game, a day or two ago, Mr. Deacon resigned the contest; the score being 5 to 1 in favour of Mr. Steinitz, with two draws.

The first point to notice is that The Field said two draws whereas C.P.M. said one. Some earlier progress reports also mentioned two draws: in particular, the Illustrated London News on 16 May said 3–1 with two draws. The Field of the same date said the match score was now 4–1 to Steinitz with two draws. That was no contradiction because the deadlines for the Illustrated London News usually seem to have been a day or two earlier than for most weekend chess columns. There was time for Steinitz to win his fourth game between Staunton’s copy going to the press and Boden having to submit his article. Moreover The Field said on 23 May the match was “temporarily suspended” at that score of 4–1 with two draws. At first sight, discarding the traditional numbering to accommodate an additional draw would agree with the statement in The Era of 3 May that the score was then 1–0 with one draw. That would seem to imply Deacon drew game 2 with White but the only draw extant has the reverse colors. Crucially, there cannot have been an even number of draws in the match. Of the known seven games, Steinitz played White in four; one of these was explicitly stated in The Era to have been the first game and another the final game. An eight-game match would break the color alternation, so the contradiction could only be resolved by supposing that there was also a third drawn game, played after the resumption in June before Steinitz scored his fifth win. On that hypothesis, nine games were played and we are missing two in which Deacon played White and drew. It is possible that errors may have crept into the press reports, through misinformation or printers’ misreading handwritten text. Nevertheless, having expressed these reservations, and in the absence of any other game scores or conclusive evidence to the contrary, the present work follows the traditional seven-game account below.

100. Steinitz–F. H. Deacon Match, London Chess Club (1), 27 April 1863 Kieseritzky Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 54); The Field, 2 May 1863; The Era, 3 May; Sporting Gazette, 9 May; I.L.N., 16 May 1863; also in C.P.M. I (1863) page 5 (notes presumably by Falkbeer). Later it appeared in D.S.Z. July 1863 pages 216–217 and B.L.L. 23 April 1864 neither mentioning a match. This is also game 3 in Pritchett’s book on Steinitz, starting on page 23.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Nh5 This line arose three times in the match, twice with Steinitz as White and once with him as

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863 Black. For the inferior 8. … Qe7 see Game 61. 9. Nc3 For alternatives to White and Black’s ninth moves, see the notes to Game 138. 9. … Qe7 10. Bb5† This move was sometimes said to have been a novelty by Steinitz in this game, but it had already been tried unsuccessfully by S. Mieses against Anderssen in 1861. In recent years, White has had some success in correspondence games with the amazing 10. 0–0 B×e5 11. Nb5!! (not 11. d×e5? Qc5†) which is recommended in GM John Shaw’s mammoth 2013 tome The King’s Gambit. In the only grandmaster game with this so far, E. Berg–N. Grandelius, Swedish ch 2015, Black avoided the complications by 11. … Nd7?! and lost in the endgame. The critical line seems to be 11. … 0–0 12. d×e5 a6 13. Nd4 Q×e5 14. b4! (first seen in D. Flude–S. Zielinski, corr 2010). 10. … c6 This is best according to Pritchett, although Black must be prepared to defend against a dangerous piece sacrifice. In the final game of the match (Game 106) Deacon preferred 10. … Kd8 and later Anderssen’s move 10. … Kf8 was revived unsuccessfully: see Games 133 and 138. 11. d×c6 b×c6 12. Nd5 Qe6 The Field: “The onlookers came to the conclusion that 12.  … Qb7 would have been less disadvantageous.” Steinitz tried this from the Black side in the fourth game. 13. Nc7† B×c7 14. Bc4 Qe7 14. … Qf5 (C.P.M.) was a better try; after 15. B×f7† Kf8 16. B×h5 Q×h5 17. B×f4 Kg7 (Pritchett) 18. 0–0 Re8 19. Bg5 White has good compensation, though with all three results possible. 15.  B×f7† Kf8 Suhle and Neumann said Black should have played 15. … Q×f7 obtaining three minor pieces for the queen, but White has good winning chances. 16. B×h5 B×e5 17. d×e5 Q×e5† 18. Qe2 Q×h5 19. B×f4 Bf5 20. 0–0 Nd7 21. Bh6† Kf7 22. R×f5† Q×f5 23. Rf1 Q×f1† 24. Q×f1† Kg6 25. Bg5 h6 26. Qd3† I.L.N. and Devidé, pages 18–19, stopped here saying “and wins” 26. … Kh5 27. Be7 1–0 Howard Taylor, in his book Chess Skirmishes, page 113, says that a more elegant finish would have been 27. Bf6 and then 27. … N×f6 28. Qf5† K×h4 29. g3† Kh3 30. Qf1† K×g3 31. Qf2† Kh3 32. Qh2 mate. “This is not given by the English, German, or French critics.” Stockfish agrees that either this or 27. Qf5 would be decisive; both mate in six moves, whereas Be7, though clearly winning, does not force mate.

101. F. H. Deacon–Steinitz Match, London Chess Club (2), 30 April? 1863 From’s Gambit (A02) Bachmann (game 55); The Field, 16 May 1863; Sporting Gazette, 23 May, page 478; C.P.M. I (1863) page 6. Wormald said Black’s gambit was Burden’s idea (with no mention of From).

1. f4 e5 2. f×e5 d6 3. Nf3 d×e5 4. N×e5 Bd6 5. Nf3 Nf6 6. g3 Ng4 7. Rg1 h5 8. c3 h4 9. Qa4† Nc6 10. Kd1 h×g3 11.  h×g3 Qf6 12.  d4 Nf2† 13.  Ke1 Ne4 14.  Nbd2 N×d2 15. B×d2 Bg4 16. Ne5 B×e5 17. d×e5 Qe6 18. Bg2 f5 19. Bg5 Q×e5 0–1 (time)

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C.P.M. says “And White having exceeded his time was adjudged the loser,” whereas The Field had said: “And Mr. Deacon, having only a few minutes to make his next several moves in, resigned the game. White’s game is so difficult that one or two hasty moves would involve certain defeat; he therefore acted sensibly in giving up at once.”

102. Steinitz–F. H. Deacon Match, London Chess Club (3), 2 May? 1863 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 56); The Field, 16 May 1863; Sporting Gazette, 23 May, page 478; Dundee Courier, 20 July; C.P.M., I (1863) pages 7–8.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. d5 Na5 10. e5 N×c4 11. Qa4† Qd7 11. … Bd7 “Better to have covered with B” observed Harrwitz. 12. Q×c4 Ne7 13. Nc3 0–0 14. Ba3 Nf5 15. Ne4 Rd8 16. Rad1 Qe7 17. Rfe1 Kh8 18. Nfg5 1–0 (time) The Field said: “And at this juncture Mr. Deacon, by exceeding the limits of his time, forfeited the game to his opponent. No time or pains, however, could have saved Black’s game many moves.” Wormald was more scathing, writing: We confess we are at a loss to understand this. As the first nine or ten moves of this game are “all book,” with which every one [sic] who can claim any pretension to the name of a chess player must be familiar, it follows that Mr. Deacon must have bestowed nearly two hours consideration on the concluding portion at the rate of nearly a quarter of an hour for every move. In the interests of chess we must protest against this burlesque of the noble game. The slow play of the present day has become an intolerable nuisance, and unless some satisfactory remedy can be provided against the growing evil, chess must inevitably degenerate from an agreeable and scientific recreation, into a mere exhibition of stupidity and main strength.106

103. F. H. Deacon–Steinitz Match, London Chess Club (4), 5 May? 1863 Kieseritzky Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 57); C.P.M., I (1863) pages 8–9.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Nh5 9. Nc3 Qe7 10. Bb5† c6 11. d×c6 b×c6 12. Nd5 Qb7 This move had been suggested by onlookers after the first game but Steinitz’s subsequent play did not justify it. 13. Nc4 Be7? Harrwitz said 13. … Bf8 “appears to be preferable” and Stockfish 10 also proposes 13. … Bb4† 14. N×b4 0–0. Instead after 13. … Qd7 14. 0–0 White stands better whether or not the piece sacrifice is accepted. 14. Qe2 Be6 15. Qe5 Rf8 16. Na5 Qd7 17. Nc7† Kd8 18. N×a8 Bd6 19. Q×d6 Q×d6 20. Nb7† Kd7 21. N×d6 K×d6 22. Bd2 Re8 23. Bd3 Bd5† 24. Kd1 B×g2 25. Bb4† c5 26. B×c5† Kc6 27. Rg1 f3 28. Bb5† K×b5 29. Nc7† Kc6 30. N×e8 f2 31. Kd2 f×g1Q 32. R×g1 Bh3 33. Nd6 f6 34. Nf5 a6 35. Bd6 Nd7 36. c4 Nb6 37. b3 a5 38. Bh2 As in both C.P.M. and Bachmann; 38. Ba3 has been seen in some databases. 38. … a4

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Steinitz in London

39. Re1 a×b3 40. a×b3 Nc8 41. Re8 Nb6 42. Re6† Kb7 43. Re7† Ka6 44. R×h7 g3 45. N×g3 Nf4 46. Ne4 Ne6 47. Nc5† 1–0

104. Steinitz–F. H. Deacon Match, London Chess Club (5), May 1863 King’s Bishop’s Gambit (C33) Bachmann (game 58); C.P.M., I (1863) page 10.

Following the reasoning above, and the fact that this was the only draw in the match, the alternation of colors shows it was the fifth game. 1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Bc4 d5 4. e×d5 Qh4† 5. Kf1 Bd6 6. Nc3 Ne7 7. d4 Bg4 8. Nf3 Qh5 9. Nb5 g5 10. Kf2 Nd7 11. Re1 B×f3 12. Q×f3 Q×f3†?! “It would have been imprudent to capture RP” said Harrwitz, but Stockfish considers 12. … Q×h2 to be well playable. After 13. N×d6† (better 13. Bd2) 13. … c×d6 14. Qe4 (Bachmann) 14. … 0–0! Black is even winning. 13. K×f3 Kf8 14. N×d6 c×d6 15. g3 The computer prefers White after 15.  Bd2 and if 15.  … Nb6 16. Bd3 Nb×d5 17. c4. 15. … Nb6 16. Bb3 Nb×d5 17. Bd2 a5 18. c4 a4 19. Bd1 Ne3 20. B×e3 f×e3 21. K×e3 Kg7 22. Kd3 Nc6 23. a3 ½–½

105. F. H. Deacon–Steinitz Match, London Chess Club (6), 13? May 1863 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 59); C.P.M., I (July 1863) pages 10–11; The Field, 4 July.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nf6 5. d4 e×d4 6. N×d4 0–0 7. Be2 Re8 8. Qd3 Qe7 9. Ndb5 “Not good”; wrote Harrwitz; “he should rather have played 9. Nb3 in order to exchange if Black takes KP.” 9. … Nc6 10. Bf3 a6 11. Na3 b5 12. Nd5 N×d5 13. Q×d5 Bb7 14. Bd2 b4 15. Nc4 “This loses a clear piece, yet his game would have been almost as bad, as if he retreated 15. Nb1.” 15. … Na5 0–1 The suspension of play for several weeks seems to have followed that game.

106. Steinitz–F. H. Deacon Match, London Chess Club (7), 24 or 25? June 1863 Kieseritzky Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 60); notes by Harrwitz in The Field, 4 July 1863, and C.P.M., I (July 1863) pages 11–12; The Era, 5 July; I.L.N., 1 August. The game can be dated approximately from Boden’s saying on the 27th that the game had been played “a day or two ago.”

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Nh5 Staunton in I.L.N.: “At this point the second player has the best of the game, but he fails to pursue his advantage with sufficient vigour.” 9. Nc3 Qe7 10. Bb5† Kd8?! Deacon, despite having had several weeks

to prepare something, failed to improve on 10. … c6 which was played in the first and fourth games of the match. Later 10. … Kf8 was tried but is insufficient: see Games 133 and 138. 11.  0–0 B×e5 12.  d×e5 Q×e5 For 12.  … Q×h4 see Steinitz–Belayev, 1873 (Game 388). 13. Re1 Qf6 14. Qe2 c6 I.L.N.: “This exposes his King too much; he ought rather to have played Kt to Q 2nd [Nd7], even at the cost of a Pawn.” 15. d×c6 b×c6 16. Ne4 Q×h4 Harrwitz: “With his K. so exposed, it is hardly prudent to play his Q so far away. It is to be remarked, that in this opening the R. P. can rarely be taken without danger.” 17. B×f4 (see diagram)

After 17. B×f4

rhbiwDw4 0wDwDpDp wDpDwDwD DBDwDwDn wDwDNGp1 DwDwDwDw P)PDQDPD $wDw$wIw

Harrwitz: “Well played; from this point to the end White carries on the attack with great vigour.” Staunton: “The best move made throughout the game. After this Deacon’s case is hopeless.” 17.  … N×f4 18.  Qd2† Bd7 19.  Q×f4 c×b5 20. Nd6 Be6 21. Rad1 Nd7 22. N×f7† Ke7 23. Qd6† K×f7 24. Q×e6† 1–0

Casual Games Later in 1863 As noted above, in July 1863 The Chess Player’s Magazine was launched. The Healey brothers, whom Steinitz knew well from Purssell’s, were among its backers and he probably earned some income through anonymous work for the magazine (at least after Falkbeer replaced Harrwitz). Two of his July 1862 games with Anderssen first appeared in the magazine. On page 64 of the August 1863 issue Steinitz (among several others) was thanked for his contribution which may have included game 114 with Blackburne, whose own book dates it to 1863. Later, in the November issue on page 160, the answers to correspondents included: “Herr Steinitz.—Thanks for your last valued contributions, and also for your promise to reserve all your best games for the Chess Player’s Magazine.” There were many Steinitz games in volume 1 (although it only covered July to December) but fewer in volume 2, perhaps because he had fewer high-level encounters in 1864.

107. Steinitz–L. Hamel Simpson’s Divan, May 1863 French Defense (C10) Notes from C.P.M., I (1863), page 113, not saying which

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863 Hamel but when the Dundee Courier reprinted it, on 19 October 1863, it identified “our late Townsman, Mr. L. Hamel” (i.e., Sigismund Hamel’s brother Ludovic, also known as Ludwig.) This game is not in the usual collections.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 “An innovation of doubtful merit. The usual move is P takes P.” 3. … d×e4 4. N×e4 f5 5. Ng5 Nf6 6. Bc4 Qe7 7. Qe2 Nd5 8. N1f3 Nc6 9. 0–0 h6 10. Nh3 Bd7 11. B×d5 e×d5 12. Q×e7† B×e7 13. Nf4 Nb4 14. c3 g5 15. Ng6 Nc2 “A forced move after White’s last rejoinder, though the Knight does not seem to be well placed on a square, where his retreat is entirely cut off. However, he had no alternative after the mistake on the thirteenth move, instead of which he ought to have played Kt to Q sq.” 16. Rb1 Rh7 17. Nfe5 c5 18. N×d7 K×d7 19. Ne5† Kd6 20. Bd2 c×d4 21. Nd3 Bf6 22. Rfd1 d×c3 23. B×c3 B×c3 24. b×c3 Re8 25. Rb3 Re2 26. Kf1 Rhe7 27. Rb2 b6 28. a4 f4 29. Ra2 Nd4 “A wonderful escape of the poor cavalier, who seemed doomed to destruction ever since White’s fifteenth move.” 30. Nb2 Nc2 “Threatening mate.” 31. Nd3 a5 32. Rc1 Nd4 33. Ra3 Nc2 34. Ra2 Rd2 35. Nb4 Ree2 36. Rc×c2 R×f2† “and draws by perpetual check” (½–½).

108. The Rev. T. Gordon–Steinitz Casual game, probably in London ca. May 1863 King’s Bishop’s Gambit (C33) Dundee Courier, 1 June 1863: “Brilliant specimen of the King’s Bishop Gambit, recently played between Herr Steinitz of Vienna, and Gamma, a well known Scotch Amateur.” (Gamma was the pseudonym of the Rev. Thomas Gordon.)

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Bc4 d5 4. e×d5 4. B×d5 is much stronger. 4. … Qh4† 5. Kf1 Bd6 6. Nf3 6. Nc3 see Game 104. 6. … Qh5 7. Nc3 g5 8. Ne4 8. d4 would surely be better play. 8. … g4 9. N×d6† c×d6 10. Nd4 Ne7 11. Nb5 f3 An effective rejoinder. 12. g×f3 It is evident that White cannot obtain any advantage by now checking at c7. 12. … g×f3 13. h4 Qg4 14. Kf2 Nf5 15. Nc7† Kd8 16. Q×f3 Q×c4 17. N×a8 Rg8 Decisive. 18. c3 Rg3 19. Qe2 Rg2† 0–1 The following little game has an amusing and complicated back story. Steinitz appears to have played it twice (with a slight difference). Löwenthal introduced it in The Era as “a dashing little skirmish, played by Herr Steinitz and Mr. R., and a good specimen of the former gentleman’s ingenuity.” He also published it the Illustrated News of the World, 20 June 1863, page 398. It was probably Löwenthal, too, who sent it to Waldheim’s Illustrirte Zeitung, where it appeared on 5 September 1863, page 1059, with Black called “Herr B.” In Howard Taylor’s Chess Brilliants, page 86, the opponent is just styled “Amateur.” There was a discussion about the authorship of this game in the International Chess Magazine in 1885, arising from

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someone’s querying whether it was Steinitz or Morphy who had played it.107 Bexley Vansittart eventually clarified the matter. Steinitz then said in the May issue that this game was played “at the Divan, in London, about 1862 or 1863, and was played against a Mr. Rock, whose name, as usual in the case of weak amateurs, was not mentioned when it was published.” Steinitz’s recollection that the game had been published in the Illustrated London News was incorrect. Curiously, Niessen discovered in a Vienna chess column of 1860 that Steinitz had previously played the identical game—except that in the earlier case (Game 30 in this book) he gave odds of queen’s knight. The moves were identical, since the combination works irrespective of which piece was given as odds. When writing in 1885, Steinitz did not recall that game, although it would have supported his priority claim against Gustavus Reichhelm, the Philadelphia columnist. The game was republished in Bachmann, Devidé, page 19, and Neishtadt, page 46.

109. Steinitz–Rock Queen’s rook odds, Simpson’s Divan, June? 1863 Remove White’s queen’s rook Bachmann (game 68); The Era, 14 June 1863, etc.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 Nf6 8. Ba3 Bb6 9. Qb3 d5 10. e×d5 Na5 11. Re1† Be6 12. d×e6 N×b3 White announced mate in six moves, says Taylor. 13.  e×f7† Kd7 14.  Be6† Kc6 15.  Ne5† Kb5 16. Bc4† Ka5 17. Bb4† Ka4 18. a×b3 mate (1–0).

110. Steinitz–Schlesser (F. Schlösser?) Queen’s knight odds, London, August? 1863 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 67); from The Field, 29 August 1863: “In this pretty example of the Evans’ Gambit Mr. Steinitz gave the odds of the Q Kt to an amateur of the London chess circles.” In the game header Black is called “Mr. Schlesser.” According to www.edochess.ca there was a player in London named Schloesser, presumably Schlösser, probably with the initial F, who is mentioned in various sources.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. h3 h6 10. Bb2 Na5 11. Bd3 Nf6 12. Qe2 0–0 13. e5 d×e5 14. d×e5 Nd5 15. Qe4 f5 16. e×f6 N×f6 17. B×f6 Q×f6 18. Qh7† Kf7 19. Rfe1 Be6 20. Ne5† Ke8 21. Ng4 B×f2† 22. Kf1 Qe7 23. N×f2 Kd8 24. Rad1 Kc8 25. Kg1 Qc5 26. R×e6 Q×f2† 27. Kh1 Qg3 Field: “White forced mate in 5 moves. For assistance of young players, we may observe that White commences with 28. Qf5” (1–0).

111. Steinitz–J. Holstein Queen’s rook odds, Simpson’s Divan, September 1863 Remove White’s queen’s rook Bachmann (game 46); notes from The Field, 12 September

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Steinitz in London

1863: “Mr. Steinitz gives the Q Rook to Mr. Holstein, of Philadelphia, played a few days ago at Mr. Ries’s Chess Divan.” Also in The Era, 20 September 1863; Bachmann wrongly dates it 1862. No forename or initial were given in the British sources but Reichhelm’s Chess in Philadelphia (page 9) lists a J. Holstein in a Philadelphia club tournament of 1862. This game is in Pickard’s database but not his book.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 h6 4. d4 e×d4 5. 0–0 Bc5 6. c3 d3 7. b4 Bb6 8. b5 Na5 9. B×f7† K×f7 10. Ne5† Kf6 11. Qf3† K×e5 12. Qf5† Kd6 13. e5† Ke7 “If Black play 13. … Kc5 the game is forced by White as follows: 14. Q×d3 Nc4 (best) 15. Na3 Qh4 (best) 16. f4 and White mates in a move or two. This pretty variation was played in a back-game, and is equally correct and brilliant on the part of Mr. Steinitz.” 14. Ba3† d6 15. e×d6† Ke8 White mates in two moves. Bachmann and Neishtadt follow The Era in giving as played 16. d7† B×d7 17. Qf8 mate (1–0).

112. Steinitz–E. Healey? King’s knight odds, Simpson’s Divan, September? 1863 Remove White’s king’s knight Bachmann (game 84); The Era, 20 September 1863. This was game 723 in Pickard who, following Bachmann, named Black as Healey (with no initial) but wrongly dated the game to 1864. In his database he identified Frank Healey (the celebrated problemist) but his brother Edward is more likely than Frank, would probably not have received greater odds than pawn and move.108 There seems insufficient evidence to be 100 percent confident of the identity of the loser but it may well have been a precursor to the matches in 1864 played between Steinitz and Edward Healey at odds of queen’s knight the following year.109

This game was first published in The Era (along with Game 111), Löwenthal saying both were played recently at the Simpson’s Divan, only naming the opponent as Amateur. “The games are excellent examples of the spirit and dash which usually characterises the play of Mr. Steinitz. They will be found highly interesting.” Through an oversight, The Era repeated the game on 24 January 1864. It was next published in D.S.Z. (December 1864, pages 401–402), saying just that it was played in London and calling Black “N. N.” This game was also included in N.B.S.Z., III (1866, page 211), and subsequently in the book Der Schachspiel by G. R. Neumann, pages 92–94, with the loser also called “N. N.” in both cases. 1. d4 d5 2. c4 c6 3. Nc3 f6 4. Bf4 Nd7?! 5. c×d5 c×d5 6. N×d5 e5 7. d×e5 f×e5 8. Bg3 Qa5† 9. Nc3 Bb4 10. Qc2 Ngf6 11. Rc1 0–0 12. e3 Nb6 A mistake that loses a pawn— Neumann. 13. Qb3† Kh8 14. B×e5 Ne4 15. f3 Nc5 16. Qd1 Bf5 17. e4 Rad8 18. Qc2 Bg6 19. f4 Ne6 20. Be2 Bc5 21. h4 Be3 22. h5 Bd2† 23. Q×d2 R×d2 24. h×g6 Rd7 Instead of

this, 24. … R×e2† 25. K×e2 N×f4† must be played—Neumann. 25. Bg4 Re7 26. B×e6 R×e6 D.S.Z., Neumann, Bachmann and Pickard stop here, saying White announced mate in four moves. The Era and N.B.S.Z. give the mate as played. 27. R×h7† Kg8 28. R×g7† Kh8 29. Rh7† Kg8 30. Rh8 mate (1–0). The next two games form a curious case, already discussed at length in the author’s work on Blackburne, where the authenticity of Game 113 was first disputed. The circumstances need explanation. They both reach what used to be called the “Normal Position” of the Evans Gambit and were probably played close together in time; which came first is uncertain. The player who defeated Steinitz in Game 114 was certainly Blackburne: he included it in his book. The dating of September is provisional. Blackburne was still living in Manchester and only came to the capital occasionally. It might have been December, because Blackburne was mentioned in The Era of 20 December as arriving in London. Game 113 is the one which has hitherto been called the final game of the match between the players earlier in 1863. Bachmann seems to be responsible for that mistake. The colors and result are right but no primary source identifies Blackburne as the player of the White pieces, although he probably was. When the game was first published, by Staunton in the Illustrated London News of 15 August 1863, Blackburne was not named. Staunton’s introduction read: “Chess in London. A very instructive Game, played lately at the Grand Cigar Divan between Mr. Steinitz and an Amateur of Manchester.”110 In the game header “Mr. L.” moves first with the Black pieces (Staunton frequently said the first player was Black.). “L” may have been Staunton’s gambit to disguise Blackburne’s identity. Subsequently the game appeared in D.S.Z., XX (January 1865) page 21 where White was described as “Mr. L. a. Manchester.” Bachmann, in volume 4, game 961 (among early games he included at the end of his book, many years after volume 1) gave the same details, and said it was recently played at the Divan in London during 1864; there he identified White as “L aus Manchester.” When revising volume 1 for his second edition, he still included it as game 53 with Blackburne named as White; apparently he failed to notice that it was the same game!

113. “L. of Manchester” (probably Blackburne)–Steinitz London, September? 1863 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (games 53 AND 961); I.L.N., 15 August 1863.

This is one of Steinitz’s most famous early games because Richard Réti praised his play in Masters of the Chess Board, but Réti’s view of what was happening has been completely overthrown by later analysis. Missed opportunities for White

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863 were revealed in Neishtadt’s book on Steinitz and in Kotov’s Train Like a Grandmaster. Most recently it has been deeply analyzed by Hübner in Caissa 2016/1, pages 13–15; just a few of his points are included below. 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. d4 e×d4 7.  0–0 d6 8.  c×d4 Bb6 9.  Nc3 Bg4 10.  Bb5 Kf8 11. B×c6?! 11. Be3 had been played in at least two earlier games, including Morphy (blindfold)–Schulten, New York 1857. 11. … b×c6 12. Ba3? Hübner is critical of this and prefers 12. Re1. 12. … B×f3 13. g×f3 Qg5†? Helps White; Hübner proposed 13. … h5. 14. Kh1 Ne7 15. Ne2 Ng6 16. Rg1 Qf6 17. Qd3 Kg8 18. Bc1 h6 19. f4 Hübner pointed out that White’s subsequent attack would have been stronger had he included the move pair 19 (or 20) a4 a5 (compare the diagram below). 19. … Kh7 20. f5 Ne7 21. Bb2 d5 22. f3 Rad8 23. Nf4 Rhg8 24. Nh5 Qh4 25. f6 Q×h5?! According to detailed analysis by Hübner, 25. … Ng6 is best, his main line continuing 26.  N×g7 Q×f6! 27.  Nf5 d×e4 28.  f×e4 Ne7 29. N×e7 Q×e7 30. e5† Rg6=. 26. f×e7 (see diagram)

wDw4wDrD 0w0w)p0k wgpDwDw0 DwDpDwDq wDw)PDwD DwDQDPDw PGwDwDw) $wDwDw$K

After 26. f×e7

26. … Rd7? Réti failed to detect that this was a potentially fatal mistake. Black needed to play 26. … Rde8 when Hübner says 27. a4 was White’s best reply: hence his note to move 19. 27. e×d5†? White (and Réti) overlooked the winning combination beginning 27.  R×g7†! K×g7 28.  Rg1† which was first pointed out by a Bernard Cohen of New York in 1934. 27. … g6 28. Rae1 Re8 29. Re5 Qh4 30. Rf5 Q×e7 31. d×c6? This should lose. Soviet analysis found 31. Ba3! Qe3! when White’s best continuation begins 32. R×f7† R×f7 33. Q×g6† Kh8 34. Q×f7 B×d4 35. Rg3. Here Hübner’s analysis diverges from that in Blackburne but the conclusion in both cases is that White should draw. 31. … Rdd8? 31. … Rd6. 32. Ba3? 32. f4! (intending Re5) keeps equal chances (Hübner). 32. … Qe6 33. Rf4 f5 34. Rh4 h5 35. Bb2 Rd5 36. Qc2 Qe2 37. Qb3 Qb5 38. Qc3 Re2 39. f4 R×d4 40. Qf3 Qd5 0–1 The following game was definitely played by Blackburne but it was not the fourth game of the match with Steinitz. Bachmann overlooked that it is game 141 in Graham, in the section “Games Off-hand, simultaneously or at odds.” In 1863 there were lively theoretical discussions about this line of the Evans Gambit. White’s 13th move was an attempt by

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American journalist James Mortimer (1833–1911) to improve on G. B. Fraser’s speculative 10. Qa4 line.

114. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Casual game, Purssell’s, 1863 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 49); C.P.M., II (1864) pages 109–112; for more annotations see Blackburne (game 76), pages 50–51.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. d4 e×d4 7. c×d4 Bb6 8. 0–0 d6 9. Nc3 Bg4 10. Qa4!? Bd7 11. Qb3 Na5 12. B×f7† Kf8 13. Qc2!? K×f7 14. e5 Bg4? 14. … h6 (Blackburne) is probably the refutation; 14. … Kf8 and 14. … g6 are also playable. 15. Re1? 15. Qe4! (Stockfish 10). 15. … B×f3? 15. … g6! is unclear. 16. Qf5† Nf6 17. Q×f3 Re8 18. Bg5 Nc6 19. e×f6 R×e1† 20. R×e1 g×f6 21. Qh5† Kg8 22.  Bh6 Qd7 23.  Re4 Kh8 24.  Qh4 Qf7 25.  Nd5 Qg6 26. Nf4 Qf5 27. Qg3 Qd7 28. Nh5 1–0 In September 1863, there were high hopes in England that the Russian master Petroff (Alexander Dmitrievich Petrov, 1794–1867), after whom the famous defense 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 is named, would pay a visit to London. He had spent several months during this year in France and even got as far in his travels as the Channel port of Dieppe. The Era of 13 September said Petroff had played six odds games against an English amateur, the Rev. David Mede Salter (1833–1914) in Dieppe, and that he was expected in London in early October. The I.L.N. of 20 September also printed a paragraph about Petroff being expected. However, there do not seem to be any reports of Petroff in London, although Staunton during the last few months of 1863 published in his column three games that Petroff had played in Paris. Had Petroff come to England it would surely have been reported in all the columns and there is no mention of Steinitz going to France at this time either. So it seems unlikely they ever met.

115. Steinitz–Amateur Queen’s rook odds, Simpson’s Divan, October 1863 Remove White’s queen’s rook Bachmann (game 69); C.P.M. I (November 1863) page 141.

This was the first of three games at the odds of queen’s rook which Steinitz played at the Divan in October 1863 against an unnamed amateur. An alternative version, diverging at Black’s ninth move, and with a different mate, stems from Howard Taylor’s anthology Chess Brilliants, page 85. In ChessBase’s Mega Database 2017 it was described as a simultaneous display game Steinitz–NN, London 1863, on level terms, not mentioning the QR odds! 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. d4 e×d4 4. e5 Nd5?! 5. Q×d4 c6 6. Bc4 Qb6 7. Qe4 Steinitz had this position again (but with his queen’s rook) against Van der Linden at Haarlem on 8 May 1896, and he won in 27 moves. 7. … Bc5 8. 0–0 Ne7?!

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9. Ng5 g6 This is the authentic version. The alternative version (Pickard game 719) from Chess Brilliants was reprinted in N.B.S.Z. VII (1870) page 10: 9. … Qc7 10. N×f7 Rf8 11. Nd6† Kd8 12. Qh4 g6 reaching the same position. 10. N×f7 Rf8 11. Nd6† Kd8 12. Qh4 Qc7 Ellis, Chess Sparks (game 95), page 34, also has the 9. … g6 sequence but stops here saying “And White gives mate in four moves.” 13. Q×e7† K×e7 14. Bg5† Rf6 15. e×f6† Kf8 16. Bh6 mate (1–0). Different final moves (15. … K×d6 16. Bf4 mate) are given in most sources with the 9. … Qc7 sequence, e.g., the Devidé Steinitz games, page 18, and Bachmann (game 721), said to have been played at Philadelphia in January 1890. The Sunday Chronicle, 9 August 1903, had the 9. … Qc7 but the 15. … Kf8 finish, and failed to state Steinitz played minus a rook.

116. Steinitz–Amateur Queen’s rook odds, Simpson’s Divan, October 1863 Remove White’s queen’s rook Bachmann (game 70); C.P.M. I (November 1863) pages 141– 142. Bachmann (game 550) says it was played in Philadelphia, August 1884, so apparently Steinitz won this brevity twice.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. Nf3 Bb4 5. Nd5 Ba5 6. N×f4 d6 7. c3 Bb6 8. d4 Bg4 9. Bb5 Kf8 10. 0–0 Ne5 11. N×e5 B×d1 12. Neg6† h×g6 13. N×g6 mate (1–0).

117. Steinitz–Amateur Queen’s rook odds, Simpson’s Divan, October 1863 Remove White’s queen’s rook Bachmann (game 71); C.P.M. I (November 1863) page 142.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 Bb6 8. d×e5 d×e5 9. Qb3 Qf6 10. Bg5 Qg6 11. Bb5 Qe6 12. Qa4 Nge7 13. Bc4 Qd7 14. Rd1 Qg4 15. N×e5 Q×g5 16. B×f7† Kf8 17. Rd8† N×d8 18. Qe8 mate (1–0). Sergeant, in reference to Steinitz’s match with Valentine Green (Games 123–131 below), made the throwaway remark, “He has previously beaten Mongredien by 7–0.”111 Subsequent writers have taken this to mean that there was a formal match between Steinitz and the president of the London Chess Club in 1863, or perhaps 1862, for which independent evidence is lacking. Only two games between them since the tournament have survived, played 10 months apart, and primary sources (particularly the main chess columns) make no mention of such a match. If there had been a match, there should be more published games and the stakes would probably have been explicitly stated, with scores. It seems much more likely to us that Mongredien was just one of Steinitz’s “regular customers” at the club.

118. A. Mongredien–Steinitz Casual game, London Chess Club, October 1863 Lopez Opening (C20)

Bachmann (game 64); C.P.M. I (November 1863) page 139, says: “Game played at the London Chess Club, October, 1863” without any mention of a match.

1. e4 e5 2. c3 Bachmann transposed the move order and gave 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. c3 d5; some databases have followed him. 2. … d5 3. Nf3 Nc6 4. Bb5 d×e4 5. N×e5 Bd7 6. N×d7 Q×d7 7. 0–0 0–0–0 8. c4 Nf6 9. Nc3 Bc5 10. b4 B×b4 11. Qb3 Bc5 12.  Rb1 Qf5 13.  B×c6 b×c6 14.  Na4 Bd6 15.  Ba3 B×a3 16. Q×a3 Qa5 17. Qh3† Nd7 18. Nc3 f5 19. Rb2 g6 20. Rfb1 Nb6 21. N×e4 Rd4 22. d3 Rhd8 23. Rb3 Q×a2 24. Nc5 Qa5 25. Ne6 Re8 26. Q×h7 Qe5 27. Q×g6 R×e6 0–1 The German merchant Philipp Martin Hirschfeld (1840– 1896) was relatively forgotten until the publication of a recent triple biography of Berlin masters in which he was one of the subjects.112 Hirschfeld, who had been an editor of the Berlin Schachzeitung, came to London in December 1863 to found an English branch of his father’s business, the Königsberger Thee-Gesellschaft (or Königsberg Tea Company) and stayed for three or four months. It is known he played a good deal of chess in London. For example, Löwenthal’s review of 1863 (The Era, 3 January 1864) mentions that Hirschfeld “has recently arrived in London, and visited the London and St. James’s Chess Clubs.” According to Hoffer, writing many years later in The Chess-Monthly, Hirschfeld during this visit “frequently played” with Harrwitz, Horwitz, Löwenthal, Falkbeer, Steinitz and especially Cecil Valentine de Vere (1846–1875), but these games were not published.113 Game 119 below may be an exception. By the spring of 1864 Hirschfeld had left Britain and did not take up permanent residence in London until 1873. Undoubtedly business would have brought him to London occasionally in the intervening years and Bachmann game 229 is another game between them, said to have been played in 1868. In the following game Hirschfeld plays weakly whereas later he was a strong player (e.g., in his match with Kolisch in 1865). The following is one of the problem games from a dating point of view. Also The Chess Player’s Magazine for January 1864 (volume 2, page 12) mentioned a game of three hours’ duration with Steinitz which “was abandoned as drawn in an incomplete state, one of the players having an engagement.” Probably that was not the following game, because it would imply extremely slow play (only 19 moves) and moreover the magazine that published it said Black resigned.

119. Steinitz–P. M. Hirschfeld Casual game, London, November? 1863 King’s Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 71a); W.P. III (May 1870) page 7; Devidé, page 17; Renette and Zavatarelli, page 107. Although the Westminster Papers did not state date or place for this game, internal evidence suggests it was much earlier and perhaps from Hirschfeld’s first visit to London. Devidé

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863 and Bachmann both date it 1863. It was not in Bachmann’s first edition but his second has extensive notes attributed to Wilhelm Therkatz (ca. 1850–1925) who, according to the Oxford Companion to Chess, edited the chess column of the Krefelder Zeitung until his death.114 One might tentatively conclude this game was played before the Green match but later than the Lange– Paulsen game cited in the notes.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Bg7 There was an article by Falkbeer in C.P.M., March 1864, where he said on page 66 that Louis Paulsen first played this defense in America in 1860 and communicated the idea to his brother in Germany. The move was played by Louis Paulsen against Mackenzie in 1862 and by Wilfried Paulsen against Lange in September 1863 in the playoff of the third congress of the Westdeutschen Schachbund. It sets a trap: 6.  N×g4? d5 7. e×d5?? Qe7† which Steinitz avoids. 6. d4 Nf6 7. Bc4 0–0 8.  Nc3 d6 9.  N×f7 R×f7 10.  B×f7† K×f7 11.  B×f4 Kg8 12. 0–0 Nh5 13. g3 Nc6 14. Ne2 Qe7 15. Qd3 Bd7 16. Bg5 Bf6 17. B×f6 N×f6 18. Nf4! Q×e4 19. Nh5 1–0 The Era of 29 November 1863 included an item about the popularity of the evening meetings (“soirees”) at the London Chess Club, saying, “Herr Steinitz has played some games with Mr. Baker, giving him the odds of the Pawn and move.” None are preserved. It was also said that alternation games (in which partners were not allowed to consult on their moves but must move in turn) were often played at these meetings. This type of game has been revived in recent years in the Pro-Biz Cup competition played at the London Chess Classic congresses, where amateurs play alternate moves with grandmasters.

120. Steinitz and J. J. Löwenthal–G. W. Medley and A. Mongredien Alternation game, London Chess Club, 3 December 1863 King’s Gambit (C39) Although Bachmann (game 65) claims this game was played in the spring of 1863, The Era of 6 December mentioned the game, saying it was played “on Thursday last” and would be published the following week—which it was, with detailed notes. Löwenthal and Mongredien played the first moves; Steinitz and (presumably George) Medley the even numbered moves.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 h5 6. Bc4 Rh7 7. d4 d6 8. Nd3 f3 9. g×f3 Be7 10. Be3 B×h4† 11. Kd2 g×f3 12. Q×f3 Bg4 13. Qf4 Nc6 14. c3 Rg7 15. Na3 Bg5 16. Qf2 B×e3† 17. Q×e3 a6 18. Raf1 Qe7 19. Nf4 Nf6 20. Nd5 N×d5 21. B×d5 Nd8 22. Nc4 Qg5 23. Q×g5 R×g5 24. e5 d×e5 25. N×e5 Rg7 26. N×g4 h×g4 27. Rh8† Ke7 28. Re1† Kd6 29. Bg2 c6 30. Ree8 Kd7 31. c4 Rc8 32. Ref8 Rg6 33. Be4 Rf6 34. a4 b5 35. a×b5 a×b5 36. c5 Kc7 37. Rhg8 Rf2†

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38. Kc3 Rf4 39. Kd3 Rf2 40. Kc3 ½–½. “After some hours play the game was abandoned as a draw.”

Match with Green (1863/1864) Steinitz’s match against Valentine Green at the London Chess Club was played on even terms for the first to win seven games. Steinitz won the match undefeated although in one game he was lost out of the opening and in another he sacrificed unsoundly to jeopardize a winning position.115 The primary sources (The Era, The Sporting Gazette and the Chess Player’s Magazine) provide no exact start or end dates but the contest must have begun before Christmas 1863 and finished early in January 1864. Steinitz’s opponent was the weakest of those whom he met in his early matches, but since he had experienced some difficulty with Green in the London 1862 tournament, the outcome cannot have been seen in advance as a foregone conclusion. Probably, as with his previous contests, some members of London Chess Club put up Steinitz’s stake and maybe Green’s also, or the latter backed himself. Just as with Steinitz’s matches against Dubois and Blackburne, much of what has been said about it in secondary sources flies in the face of the primary evidence. Only Hooper got the score correct. Sergeant’s book (page 135), stated the result as 5–0 with two draws; at least he had the right number of draws. Bachmann, Pickard, and ChessBase’s Mega Database 2017 all give a score-line of 6–0 to Steinitz with one draw although no contemporary source stated that result. The match was announced in The Era of 27 December 1863 (when the score was 1–0 to Steinitz with a draw) although Löwenthal wrongly said it was for the first to win five games. Then C.P.M. for January said the score after three games was 2–0 to Steinitz with one draw. On 10 January, in reply to a correspondent, The Era stated: “The match between Herr Steinitz and Mr. Green has terminated in favour of the former. Final score:—Herr S., 7; Mr. G. 0; Drawn, 1.” However, he had incorrect information because C.P.M. in February 1864 (page 49) said: STEINITZ AND GREEN. This match has terminated in favour of the first-named gentleman, who carried all before him, scoring seven games and drawing two. The games were played at the spacious rooms of the London Chess Club, Cornhill.

Five games with Green playing first are known, but only one of the draws was published. No primary source numbered the games. If the interim score in the first Era report was correct then the match must have begun with the game normally called the fifth, because Green had more games with White and he lost the other four. The other drawn game, never published, must have been begun by Steinitz. All the collections, even Hooper, followed Bachmann’s sequence of seven games but Hooper did recognize the problem; he

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Steinitz in London

identified as the ninth and final game one which Bachmann, Pickard, and ChessBase all call a casual game. It is not possible to determine the sequence of games definitively so it is somewhat speculative based on the internal evidence of the openings.

121. V. Green–Steinitz Match (1), London Chess Club, December 1863 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann (game 76); C.P.M. II (1864) pages 76–77: “Chess in London. Continuation of the Games played in the Match between Mr. V. Green and Herr Steinitz.” This does not necessarily imply it was a later game; just not the first they published.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. 0–0 Nf6 5. d3 d6 6. c3 Bb6 7. Be3 Be6 8. Nbd2 Qd7 9. Qe2 0–0 10. Rad1 Rad8 11. Kh1 Rfe8 12. B×e6 Q×e6 13. a3 Qa2 14. Nc4 d5 15. N×b6 a×b6 16. Bg5 Rd6 17. Nh4 h6 18. B×f6 R×f6 19. Nf5 Ne7 20. N×e7† R×e7 21. e×d5 Q×d5 22. f3 Rd6 23. Rfe1 f6 24.  Qe4 Red7 25.  Q×d5† R×d5 26.  Re3 b5 27.  Kg1 c5 28. Kf2 c4 29. Ke2 f5 30. d4 Kf7 C.P.M. and Bachmann said 30. … e×d4 31. c×d4 R×d4 32. R×d4 R×d4 33. Re5 would have given White the better position, but engines find 33. … b4 34. a×b4 Rd3 followed by …Rb3 with sufficient counterplay to hold the balance. 31. R×e5 R×e5† 32. d×e5 R×d1 33. K×d1 f4 34. Ke2 Ke6 35. Kf2 K×e5 36. Ke2 Kf5 37. Kf2 g5 38. Kf1 h5 39. Ke2 g4 40. Kf2 Ke5 41. Ke2 g×f3† 42. g×f3 ½–½ Bachmann quoted faulty analysis from C.P.M. which claimed that 42. K×f3 would even lose the ending after 42. … Kf5 43. g3 f×g3 44. h×g3 Kg5 45. Kf2 Kg4 46. Kg2 b6 47. Kf2 Kh3 48. Kf3 Kh2 49. Kf2 b4 50. c×b4 b5 51. Kf3 Kg1 52. Kf4 Kf2 “and wins.” Modern engines show two ways to draw here: 53. Kf5 K×g3 54. a4 c3 (or 54. … b×a4 55. b5) 55. b×c3 b×a4 56. b5 a3 57. b6 a2 58. b7 a1Q 59. b8Q† Kh3 60. c4, or 53. Kg5 K×g3 54. K×h5 Kf4 55. Kg6 Ke4 56. Kf6 Kd3 57. a4 b×a4 58. b5 a3 59. b×a3 c3 60. b6 c2 61. b7 c1Q 62. b8Q.

122. Steinitz–V. Green Match (2), London Chess Club, December 1863 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Bachmann (game 73), from The Era, 20 March 1864, saying it was played in the “late match” between Steinitz and Green. This is traditionally said to be the second game. Green declined the King’s Gambit whereas in two other games he accepted it, as he had done in the London tournament. At move 11 Steinitz improved on 11. Be3 played in the fourth Morphy–Löwenthal match game.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6 4. c3 Bg4 5. Be2 Nc6 6. b4 Bb6 7.  b5 B×f3 8.  B×f3 Nce7 9.  d4 e×f4 10.  B×f4 Ng6 11. Bg3 Nf6 12. Nd2 0–0 13. 0–0 Qd7 14. a4 c6 15. Nc4 Bc7 16. e5 d×e5 17. N×e5 N×e5 18. d×e5 Q×d1 19. Rf×d1 Nd5

20. B×d5 c×d5 21. R×d5 Rad8 22. Rad1 R×d5 23. R×d5 Rd8 24. c4 Kf8 25. Kf2 Ke7 26. Bh4† f6 27. e×f6† g×f6 28. R×d8 B×d8 29. Ke3 Ke6 30. Kd4 b6 31. Bg3 Be7 32. Bb8 Bc5† 33. Kd3 Kd7 34. B×a7 Kc7 35. a5 1–0

123. V. Green–Steinitz Match (3), London Chess Club, December 1863 Giuoco Piano (C50) Bachmann (game 72) and the others call this the first game. The Era published it on 22 May 1864, saying it was “one of the match games played, some time ago, at the London Chess Club, between Messrs. Steinitz and Green.” One reason for believing this was indeed the third game is that Steinitz varied his play after only drawing game 1.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. Nc3 Bc5 5. d3 d6 6. 0–0 Bg4 7. Ne2 B×f3 8. g×f3 Nh5 9. Ng3 Qh4 10. N×h5 Q×h5 11. c3 g5 12. Kg2 Rg8 13. h3 Rg6 14. Be3 Rh6 15. Rh1 Ne7 16. d4 Bb6 17. Be2 Qh4 18. Qg1 f5 19. d×e5 d×e5 20. B×b6 a×b6 21. b4 0–0–0 22. Rd1 Rf8 “Black might have won a Pawn at this point, but in so doing would have relieved his opponent from the attack.” 23. Kf1 Ng6 24. Bd3 Nf4 25. e×f5 N×d3 26. R×d3 Qc4 27. Ke2 Rd6 28. Qb1 Rfd8 29. Rhd1 e4 30. f×e4 Q×e4† 31. Re3 Rd2† 0–1

124. Steinitz–V. Green Match (4), London Chess Club, January 1864 King’s Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 75); first published in The Era on 31 January 1864 and then in The Sporting Gazette, 13 February 1864. Also in D.S.Z. 1864, page 120; Sissa 1864, pages 122–123 (without notes); Neumann and Suhle, Neueste Theorie (game 289), page 422. Here the traditional sequence is followed, it is plausible Green decided to accept the King’s Gambit after losing with the King’s Gambit Declined in his previous game as Black.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Qe7 For 8. … Nh5 see Game 103. 9. B×f4 Steinitz varies from their 1862 tournament clash (Game 57), adopting Anderssen and Suhle’s recommendation. 9. … Nh5 10. g3 f6 11. Qe2 f×e5 12. d×e5 Bc5? 13. Nc3 Bb4 14. 0–0 B×c3 15. b×c3 N×f4 16. R×f4 Rf8 17. R×f8† Q×f8 18. Rf1 Qc5† 19. Kh2 b5 20. B×b5† Bd7 21. Q×g4! Q×d5 22. Qh5† Here there was a misprint in The Sporting Gazette which ends with a blunder: “22 Q to Kt6, ch, and wins.” Since Qg6† would be met by h×g6, probably the printer misread the copy and omitted some moves. D.S.Z. and Bachmann’s conclusion is followed here. 22. … Ke7 23. Q×h7† Ke6 White mates in three moves in multiple ways (1–0).

125. V. Green–Steinitz Match (5), London Chess Club, January 1864 Two Knights Defense (C55) Bachmann (game 74) and the rest call this game 3. C.P.M., II

3. “The Greco of the present time,” 1862–1863 (1864), page 53, did not mention a match, just saying “Game played between Herr Steinitz and Mr. Green” but later the match was mentioned. D.S.Z., XIX (1864), pages 84–85, also had news of the match and published this game on pages 119–120.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. 0–0 N×e4 5. d4 Nd6!? 5. … d5, suggested in D.S.Z., was later played by Steinitz and Elson in a consultation game in Philadelphia in 1882. 6. Bd5 e4? 7. Re1 Be7 8. Ne5 0–0 9. Nc3 Bf6 10. Bf4 Nf5? This should lose. 11. Qh5?! Green misses his chance; 11. N×f7!, 11.  B×f7† and 11.  N×e4 are all much stronger. 11.  … g6 12. N×g6 Ng7 The only move. 13. Qh6 h×g6 14. N×e4?? 14. Re3 d6 (forced) 15. N×e4 retains the initiative. 14. … Ne6 15. B×c6 Bg7 16. Qh3 N×f4 17. Qf3 d×c6 18. Q×f4 Bf5 19. Ng5 Bh6 0–1

126. Steinitz–V. Green Match (6), London Chess Club, January 1864 Kieseritzky Gambit (C39) This is the traditional numbering, following Bachmann (game 77). The game originally appeared in The Sporting Gazette, 30 January 1864, saying it was in the match and they hoped to present some of the best games (but only two appeared in that paper). Afterwards it appeared in C.P.M., II (1864), pages 77–78; N.B.S.Z., I (1864), pages 143–144; and Neumann and Suhle (game 291) page 423.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 d6 6. N×g4 Be7 Shaw considers that 6. … Nf6! kills White’s joy in the Kieseritzky Gambit. 7. d4?! B×h4† 8. Nf2 Qg5 9. Nc3 Nf6 10. Qf3 Bg3!? 11. Bd2 Nc6!? 12. Bb5 Bd7? 12. … Ng4! was probably rejected because of the simplification after 13. Q×g3 f×g3 14. B×g5 g×f2† 15. Kf1= but objectively it was necessary. 13. B×c6 b×c6 14. 0–0–0 0–0–0? 15. Nd3 Rhg8 16. e5 Ng4 17. Ne4 Qe7 (see diagram)

wDk4wDrD 0w0b1pDp wDp0wDwD DwDw)wDw wDw)N0nD DwDNDQgw P)PGwDPD DwIRDwDR

After 17. … Qe7

18. Ndc5?! Steinitz had several simple winning moves but preferred to play to the gallery, Wormald commenting “The commencement of a very beautiful combination, which strikingly illustrates the depth and accuracy of Mr. Steinitz’s play.” 18. … d×c5 19. N×c5 Ne3 20. Qe2? Rdf8?? 20. … Kb8. 21. Bb4!? Qg5 22. Qa6† Kd8 23. Q×a7 Bc8 24. Ba5 Qe7 25. Qb8 Nd5 26. c4 Nb6 27. Na6 Rg6 28. N×c7 Sporting

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Gazette ends here saying “and wins” 28. … Q×c7 29. B×b6 “and wins” says C.P.M. (1–0).

127. V. Green–Steinitz Match (7), London Chess Club, January 1864 Irregular Opening (A00) Bachmann (game 78) and those who followed him call this the seventh game, after which he included four games he considered casual, one of which the author believes was the ninth game or possibly the seventh, while the others can be found elsewhere in this book. It is plausible that after a string of losses Green despaired of 1. e4 and played a Closed Game instead but he still lost quickly.

1. e3 f5 2. f4 Nf6 3. Nf3 e6 4. b3 Be7 5. Bb2 0–0 6. c4 c5 7. Nc3 Nc6 8. Be2 d5 9. c×d5 e×d5 10. 0–0 Kh8 11. Ng5 h6 12. Nh3 d4 13. Nb5 a6 14. Na3 Ne4 15. Nf2 Bf6 16. Nd3 Be6 17. Nc4 B×c4 18. b×c4 Qa5 19. Bf3 N×d2 20. Re1 N×c4 21. B×c6 b×c6 “and Black wins” (0–1).

128. Steinitz–V. Green Match (8), London Chess Club, January 1864 MISSING GAME

½–½. There is a missing draw from the match and Steinitz must have been White. Arbitrarily assuming it to be game 8, it was probably played early in January 1864.

129. V. Green–Steinitz Match (9), London Chess Club, January 1864 Giuoco Piano (C50) Bachmann (game 80), from The Era, 29 May 1864, with notes by Löwenthal. Hooper plausibly says this was the ninth game. Bachmann said it was played in May 1864, but this is just another case of his dating by the publication where he found a game. It would have been played in late 1863 or (if it was the last game, as seems possible), then January 1864.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. d3 In other games Green castled here. 4. … Nf6 5. Nc3 d6 6. h3 Be6 7. Bg5 h6 8. Bh4 g5 9. Bg3 B×c4 10. d×c4 Bb4 11. Qd3 B×c3† 12. b×c3 Qe7 13. h4 g4 14. Nh2 Qe6 15. Nf1 Ne7 16. Ne3 Nd7 17. f3 g×f3 18. g×f3 Rg8 19. Bf2 Nc5 20. Qe2 0–0–0 21. Nd5 c6 22. N×e7† Q×e7 23. B×c5 d×c5 24. Rd1 Qc7 25. R×d8† R×d8 26. 0–0 Qe7 27. Qf2 Qe6 28. f4 Qh3 29. Qg2 Qe3† 30. Rf2 The Era claimed White might have saved the game by 30. Kh1, but Stockfish has a different opinion. 30. … Rd2 31. f×e5 Kd7 32. Qf3 Q×f2† 33. Q×f2 R×f2 34. K×f2 Ke6 35. a4 K×e5 36. Ke3 b6 37. Kf3 h5 38. Ke3 f6 39. Kf3 f5 40. e×f5 K×f5 0–1 C.P.M., II (February 1864), page 49, reported the end of the match without clarifying which was the final game. It said: STEINITZ AND GREEN. This match has terminated in favour of the first-named gentleman, who carried all before him, scoring seven games and drawing two. The games were played at the spacious rooms of the London Chess Club, Cornhill.

4. Quiet Years, 1864–1865 Steinitz would find it hard to make a living. All his life that would be the case, but in these years in particular (before he had regular income from journalism) it was probably necessary for him to give chess tuition or win games for money several days a week in order to pay rent and buy the necessities of life. Steinitz also, at some point during 1865, acquired family responsibilities since, as will be seen in the next chapter, his daughter Flora was born early the following August. He must have met her mother, Caroline, by the fall of 1865, if not considerably earlier, and may have been supporting her financially although it is unknown whether they were living together. There is almost no evidence of where Steinitz lived at this time, or about his partner, whom he apparently never married, but what is known will be discussed in connection with Flora’s birth and short life. The Scottish-Canadian economist James Mavor mentions in his memoirs that at some point Steinitz wrote a pamphlet entitled The Economies of Chess, which today appears untraceable unless some collector owns a copy. Mavor wrote that the pamphlet “promulgated a thesis” which Steinitz once expounded to him in conversation: Here am I, the most successful chess professional of my time, winner of the most important prizes in chess matches and editor of the most important and remunerative chess column, and yet, on the average, I have not received more than the wages of an artisan.1

Indeed, in the census of 1881 Steinitz and family shared an apartment building which had three households. His neighbors in one were a married bricklayer and his stepson (an errand boy), while three female machinists lived in the other. The case was similar in 1871, implying Steinitz’s income was more commensurate with skilled manual laborers than with middle-class gentleman journalists. There is no year in Steinitz’s career for which there is as little information about his doings as is the case for 1864, when he played no set matches and there was no tournament in which he could compete. Consequently few games are on record played by him that year, probably because he had no opponents worthy of meeting him on level terms (Blackburne being more or less inactive at this time), or even (like Green) able to sometimes give him a decent game. Probably

that is, in part, why at the end of this period Steinitz consented to play a match in which he gave odds to England’s rising star de Vere. Indeed most of Steinitz’s chess in 1864 and 1865 was probably played at odds in cafés and clubs and consequently few publishable games resulted. This was also in general a period of declining chess activity in England, with the B.C.A. in virtual hibernation until 1866. The year 1865 was not much better than 1864, until activity began to revive in the last quarter of the year. A small chess congress (nominally under B.C.A. auspices) was held in Ireland in connection with an international exhibition in Dublin. Hardly any players traveled from Britain for it (and none from farther afield), which at least meant that Steinitz had little difficulty in winning the first prize. This was his first known foray outside London.

Games in 1864 Match between Messrs. Steinitz and E. Healy [sic]—An interesting match has been commenced between the above gentlemen, the former giving odds of a Knight, the winner of the first five games to be declared victor. Present score: Mr. S., 3; Mr. H. 1; Drawn, 0.

That news appeared in The Era on 27 March 1864. Steinitz went on to win the match 5–0. The Era said on 10 April it had been played at Purssell’s and that a return match at the same odds “will shortly be played.” However, Löwenthal’s review of 1864 for Chess Player’s Magazine says that Healey did win one game in the first match (with no draws), while the second match ended “Herr S., 5; Mr. H., 1; drawn, 1.”2 As noted earlier, Edward Healey was the elder brother of the celebrated problem composer Frank Healey, and had a business in the City according to Sergeant.3 The following encounter may have been from one of those matches. Game 112 (played in 1863 at the more unusual king’s knight odds) was probably a precursor to those matches.

130. Steinitz–E. Healey? Queen’s knight odds, London 1864? Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 85); I.L.N. 17 November 1866. In his col-

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4. Quiet Years, 1864–1865 umn Staunton did not identify the loser apart from the initial “H” but it is plausible that this game comes from one of Steinitz’s odds matches against Healey. It is also possible, though, that it was played in the year of publication, 1866.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 d6 3. Bc4 Bg4 4. c3 B×f3 5. g×f3 Qf6 6. d4 Nd7 7. 0–0 0–0–0 8. Be3 Nh6 9. Be2 Kb8 10. a4 Qg6† 11. Kh1 f5 12. Rg1 Qf7 13. a5 e×d4 14. c×d4 f4 15. Bd2 Qf6 16. a6 b6 17. Qa4 d5 18. e5 Qe6 19. B×f4 Be7 20. Rac1 c5 21. Bd3 c×d4 22. R×g7 Nc5 23. R×e7 N×a4 24. R×e6 N×b2 25. Re7 N×d3 26. Rb7† Ka8 27. Rcc7 Nc5 28. e6 N×a6 29. R×a7† Kb8 30. Rcb7† Kc8 31. Rb8† N×b8 32. Rc7 mate (1–0).

131. V. Green–Steinitz Casual game, London 1864? Bishop’s Opening (C23) Bachmann (game 79); from C.P.Q.C. (February 1869), pages 134–136: “Chess in London,” Mr. V. Green versus Steinitz, with no details on circumstances. Since Steinitz played a dubious defense, this was probably a friendly game and not in the match discussed at the end of Chapter 3. It cannot be the eighth game of the match because the colors and result are wrong. It may even have been played as late as 1868.

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 f5?! 3. d3 Nf6 4. Nf3 c6 5. Bg5 Be7 6. B×f6 B×f6 7. Nc3 d6 8. Bb3 Na6 9. Qe2 Qe7 10. e×f5 B×f5 11. Ne4

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d5 12.  N×f6† g×f6 13.  d4 0–0 14.  0–0 e4 15.  Nh4 Be6 16. Qh5 Qf7 17. Q×f7† R×f7 18. f3 f5 19. Rae1 Nc7 20. f×e4 f×e4 21. R×f7 K×f7 22. Re3 Kf6 23. Kf2 Bf7 24. c3 Bh5 25. h3 Kg5 26. g3 Ne6 27. Kg1 Nf4 28. g×f4† K×h4 29. c4 d×c4 30. B×c4 Bf3 31. Be6 Rd8 32. Bg4 B×g4 33. h×g4 R×d4 34. f5 K×g4 0–1

132. Steinitz–S? or W? Franklin Queen’s knight odds, London? 1864? Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 66); C.P.M., II (September 1864) page 270: “The following brilliant little game was played between Herr Steinitz and Mr. Franklin, the former giving the odds of Queen’s Knight.” Bachmann dates it 1863 but the timing of its first publication indicates the summer of 1864 as more likely. The opponent may have been either Selim Franklin (who played in the 1858 California Chess Congress but was definitely in London by 1868) or else one of several players named W. Franklin who were active at this period (compare Game 292).4

1. f4 d5 2. e3 e6 3. b3 Nf6 4. Bb2 Bd6 5. Nf3 h6 6. Qe2 0–0 7. g4 N×g4 8. B×g7 K×g7 9. Rg1 f5 10. h3 h5 11. 0–0–0 Qf6 12. Kb1 Kh6 13. h×g4 f×g4 14. Ng5 Qf5 15. Rh1 Be7 16. R×h5† K×h5 17. Qh2† Kg6 18. Bd3 B×g5 19. f×g5 K×g5 20. Rh1 Kf6 21. B×f5 e×f5 22. Q×c7 Nd7 23. Qd6† Kg7 24. Qe7† Kg6 1–0. White mates in three moves. Steinitz’s opponent in the next game, Edmund Thorold (1832–1899), was one of England’s strongest provincial amateurs for several decades. The Chess Player’s Magazine for May 1864 had reprinted the news that there had been a presentation to the retiring president of the Sheffield Athenaeum Chess Club, E. Thorold, “who has lately left Sheffield for Bath.” This was first reported in the Sheffield Independent of Saturday, 2 April, page 8, which stated that at the club annual general meeting on the previous Thursday (31 March) a valuable cabinet set of “Staunton” ivory chessmen was presented to Thorold. He had left the city earlier in the year. An advertisement for Somersetshire College, Bath, in the Sheffield paper on both 28 and 30 January 1864 says Edmund Thorold MA, lately a fellow of Magdalen College Oxford, would “be ready shortly to receive a Limited Number of boarders into his House, to be Educated in connection with the College.”

133. Steinitz–E. Thorold

Edmund Thorold was for four decades one of England’s leading provincial amateurs. (From The Chess-Monthly, XIV [June 1895].)

Simpson’s Divan, July 1864 Kieseritzky Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 86); C.P.M., II (August 1864), pages 245– 246, saying it was played “a few days ago.” It was also in N.B.S.Z., II (August 1864), page 241, so one can assume the game was played in July, not August as Bachmann stated. The game was republished several times, including Neumann and Suhle, Neueste Theorie (game 284) on pages 417–418.

102

Steinitz in London

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Nh5 9. Nc3 Qe7 10. Bb5† Kf8 11. 0–0 B×e5? For 11. … Q×h4 see Game 138. 12. d×e5 Q×e5 Suhle and Neumann claimed that 12. … Qc5† was stronger but computers find a win for White with 13. Kh2! Qe7 14. R×f4. If instead 12. … Q×h4 13. B×f4 (13. R×f4 is also strong.) 13. … g3 (Clemenz–Asharin, Dorpat 1862) White can play 14. B×g3! N×g3 15. Qf3! with a crushing attack. 13. Ne2 c6 14. N×f4! c×b5 15. N×h5 Q×h5 16. Qd4 Kg8 If 16. … Rg8 17. Qc5† Kg7 18. Qc3† and White wins a piece (Neumann and Suhle). 17. Bg5 h6 18. Bf6 Rh7 19. Rae1 Bd7 20. Re5 Qg6 21. h5 Q×c2 22. Q×g4† Kf8 23. Be7† Ke8 24. Qg8 mate (1–0).

White wins simply by 1. K×b4 (1. Re5 and 1. Kc2 also win.) 1. … e2 2. Re5 Kf2 3. Kc4 e1Q 4. R×e1 K×e1 5. Kd4 followed by capturing the Black pawn. 135a. The Era, on 11 December 1864, published the following similar position. Although said to be taken from C.P.M., this was apparently an attempt to correct the original version. It was not printed as a diagram but instead as an “enigma,” i.e., a puzzle with few pieces whose positions were just enumerated. They moved the White rook to d4 and the Black pawn to b5. Also the White pawn was put on g4 instead of g5; but the Black men on the kingside were in the same position in all versions.

134. Steinitz–Amateur Casual game, London, October? 1864 Evans Gambit (C52) Household Chess Magazine no. 1 (31 January 1865) page 7: “Herr Steinitz and an amateur. Lively specimen of the Evans’ Gambit.” In view of when it was published, the game was probably played in the fall of 1864. Bachmann overlooked it although it was in D.S.Z., XIX (December 1864), page 407.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. 0–0 Nf6 7. Ba3 Bb6 8. d4 e×d4 9. Qb3 d5 10. e×d5 Na5 11. Re1† Be6 12. d×e6 N×b3 13. e×f7† Kd7 14. Be6† Kc6 15. Ne5† Kb5 16. Bc4† Ka5 In Ernest Morphy–P. Shaub, Quincy 1862, the order of moves was reversed: 16. … Ka4 17. a×b3† Ka5 18. Bb4 mate. (See comments to Game 161.) 17. Bb4† Ka4 18. a×b3 mate (1–0).

135. Steinitz endgame position (faulty versions) White to play and win, 1864

Three slightly different versions of this endgame were published, all had flaws; it is unknown whether this was from an actual Steinitz game or an attempt at a composed study. This is how it was originally published in C.P.M., II (December 1864, page 380), described as “Useful and practical Endgame from actual play. By Herr Steinitz. White to play and win.” The White king is able to capture the b-pawn immediately so it is hardly a puzzle. See also number 136 for a corrected version.

wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw wDwDwDpD DwDRDw)w w0wDwDwD DKDw0kDw wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw

White to move

wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw wDwDwDpD DpDwDwDw wDw$wDPD DKDw0kDw wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw

White wins simply by 1. Kc3 (or Kc2) 1. … e2 2. Kd2. Neither the C.P.M. nor The Era ever published a solution, probably because they had the position wrong, and there was no real difficulty. Neither was the Steinitz game from which this ending derived ever published. 135b. C.P.M. on page 32 in its next volume (end of the January 1865 number, in the Answers to Correspondents section) tried to correct the position. They wrote: “In the position in our last by Herr Steinitz a misprint occurred. The White King should have stood on Q. Kt. second instead of Q. Kt. third.” The diagram below therefore shows C.P.M.’s corrected position but it is no puzzle either because three initial moves win: 1. Kc2 (mate in 22), 1. Re5 (mate in 23), and 1. Kc1 (mate in 24).

White to move

White to move

wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw wDwDwDpD DwDRDw)w w0wDwDwD DwDw0kDw wIwDwDwD DwDwDwDw

136. Steinitz endgame position (corrected version by the present author) White to play and win, 1864

This is the author’s corrected version of the Steinitz end-

4. Quiet Years, 1864–1865 game that was faulty when published in the C.P.M. and The Era. The queenside pieces have been adjusted to provide a unique winning solution, and the White pawn moved back to g4 to make it even more interesting. See the diagram.

wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw wDwDwDpD DwDwDwDw w0w$wDPD DKDw0kDw wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw

White to move

The Lomonosov tablebase shows that nearly all White’s moves, including 1.  K×b4 and 1.  R×b4, lose to 1.  … e2. Moving the rook to d3, d6, d7 or d8 would draw. White’s only winning move is 1.  Kc2! and after 1.  … b3† (best) 2. Kd1! is the only move to win. (2. Kc3 and 2. Kd3 draw; others lose.) Now the best defensive try is 2. … g5! after which there are various ways for White to win, of which the simplest is 3. Ke1 although some other rook moves are sufficient (but 3. Rb4?? would even lose.) The optimal line is 3. … b2 4. Rb4 b1Q† 5. R×b1 K×g4 6. Ke2 etc. (1–0). It is also noteworthy that if the Black pawn were already on g5 in the initial position, then 1. Kc2 would lose to 1. … b3†! 2. Kd1 (2. K×b3 e2) 2. … Kf2! So best play would be a draw, starting with 1. Rd8 (Some other rook moves also hold.) 1. … e2! 2. Re8 (or immediately Rf8†) 2. … Kf2 3. Rf8† to gain the saving tempo. The next game has more than usual historical interest. Steinitz tried, and failed, to defend the Danish Gambit against its probable inventor, Dr. Hans Anton Westesson Lindehn (1826–1884), who played it first in the 1850s. Löwenthal attributed the invention of the gambit to Lindehn in an answer to a correspondent of Land and Water, 14 January 1871, mentioning that it had first been seen some years earlier in the Schachzeitung. Two of Lindehn’s wins with it were indeed published there in 1858. The opening now known as the Danish Gambit was pioneered by Swedish players. In those early days it was known as the Center Gambit (Mittelgambit) or Nordic Gambit. Then Severin From played it at Paris 1867 and it was subsequently analyzed extensively by other Danish players including S. A. Sørensen and the Nielsen brothers (Govert and Wilhelm) in the Nordisk Skaktidende.

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1. e4 e5 2. d4 e×d4 3. c3 d×c3 4. Bc4 This move was probably Lindehn’s innovation. The inferior 4. b×c3 had been played in a Swedish correspondence game Kindblad–Svanberg, published in 1849 in both the Schachzeitung and Bell’s Life. 4. … Nf6 Lindehn’s early opponents usually accepted the gambit. 5. N×c3 Bb4 6. Nge2 0–0 7. e5 Ne4 Stockfish 10 prefers Black after 7. … Ng4 or 7. … d5. 8. 0–0 N×c3 9. b×c3 Bc5 10. Ng3 Nc6 11. Qh5 d6? If 11. … g6 12. Qh6 with an attack said D.S.Z. but Stockfish defends with 11. … Qe7 or 11. … d5. 12. Bg5 Qe8 Here Steinitz believed that 12. … Qd7 would have been better but White probably still has a winning attack after 13. Bd3 as D.S.Z. said. 13. e×d6 c×d6 14. Rfe1 Ne5 15. Re4 Be6 16. Rh4 h6 17. B×h6 Ng6 18. B×g7 K×g7 19. Qh6† Kf6 20. Ne4† Ke7 21. B×e6 f×e6 22. Qg5† Kd7 23. N×c5† d×c5 24. Q×c5 Qc8 25. Rd1† Ke8 26. Qh5 Rg8 27. Qh7 Ne7 28. Rf4 1–0

138. Steinitz–W. Wayte London 1865? Kieseritzky Gambit (C39) C.P.M. III (1865), page 311.

This fragment is in neither Bachmann nor Pickard but was published in the 1865 Chess Player’s Magazine in a series of games in this variation, specifically in note (c) to Wayte– Rhodes (commencing on page 305). In those days the variations with 5. Ne5, now known as the Kieseritzky Gambit, were usually considered part of the Allgaier Gambit, whereas nowadays the Allgaier is characterized by 5. Ng5?! In view

137. Dr. H. A. W. Lindehn–Steinitz Casual game, London, December 1864 Danish Gambit (C21) Bachmann (game 87); D.S.Z. XXII (1867), page 329, says the game was played in London at the end of 1864. It had been sent in by J. G. Schultz of Stockholm.

The Rev. William Wayte played one game with Steinitz. (From The Chess-Monthly, X [November 1888].)

104

Steinitz in London

of the opening line, this game was probably played in 1864 or 1865. 1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Nh5 9. Nc3 C.P.C. said this move had first been played by Morphy against George Medley in 1858, but Dubois had previously played it in 1857. C.P.C. says “Heydebrand” (i.e., the German Handbuch) gave 9. 0–0 as best, which is the modern view: see Game 400, Pitschel–Steinitz; 9. N×g4 was Heydebrand von der Lasa’s unsuccessful try against Staunton in 1853: see Chess Praxis, page 328. 9. … Qe7 9. … 0–0 may be Black’s safest reply (as Pritchett states.) This was played in Gossip–Steinitz, 1870 (Game 309), while 9. … Bf5 was played by both Medley and Bird against Morphy in 1858. Shaw’s book on the King’s Gambit does not mention 9. … Ng3, but it was analyzed in depth by Pritchett on pages 26–27 of his Steinitz book. It was played against Dubois in Rome by both Wyvill in 1859, and Count Conrad Vitzthum von Eckstaedt in 1867, but there is no known game in which Steinitz met 9. … Ng3 until two played at Montreal in 1893. 10. Bb5† Kf8 For Black’s possibilities 10. … c6 and 10. … Kd8 here, see the notes to the Steinitz–Deacon match games. 10. … Bd7 was first played in Wayte–Ranken, 1865, and analyzed in the C.P.M. article, continuing 11. Q×g4 B×e5 12. d×e5 Q×e5† 13. Kd1 Nc6 14. Qg5 f6 15. Q×e5† N×e5 16. B×d7† K×d7; the game was eventually drawn. 11. 0–0 Q×h4 11. … B×e5 had failed in Game 134. 12. B×f4 12. R×f4 B×f4 13. B×f4 (Pritchett) is also good for White. 12. … B×e5 13. d×e5?! Although White should still win if he follows this up correctly, simply 13. B×e5 is winning. It was suggested in C.P.M. 1865 on page 309 although their analysis hardly stands up to engine scrutiny. 13. … g3 14. Bh6†!? Stronger is 14. B×g3 N×g3 (C. Speyer–F. Masing, Nikolayev 1864) 15. e6!. 14. … Ng7! (see diagram) Not 14. … Kg8?, when, instead of 15. R×f7? (S. Mieses–Anderssen, Breslau 1861),5 White was winning after 15. Rf3! in Wayte–Rhodes, published in the C.P.M. article: 15. … Qh2† 16. Kf1 Qh1† 17. Ke2 Q×g2† 18. Ke3 Bg4 19. R×f7! K×f7 20. Q×g4 Qf2† 21. Kd3 1–0. Steinitz’s game with Wayte was possibly a friendly soon afterwards to test the variation further.

rhbDwiw4 0p0wDphp wDwDwDwG DBDP)wDw wDwDwDw1 DwHwDw0w P)PDwDPD $wDQDRIw

After 14. … Ng7

15. B×g7†? This should lose, but Steinitz can be forgiven for not finding the deep solution in what was probably a “skittles” game. At first sight White has nothing better than

15. Rf4!? Q×h6 16. Qf3 with an attack for the sacrificed piece, but probably even stronger is Stockfish’s 15. Rf6!! Then if 15. … Nd7 16. B×d7 B×d7 17. Qd2 Qh2† 18. Kf1 Qh1† 19. Ke2 Q×g2† (19. … Q×a1?? is soon mated after 20. Qg5.) 20. Kd3 with a decisive lead in development even after a queen exchange. So Black must accept the queen sacrifice by 15. … Qh2† 16. Kf1 Qh1† 17. Ke2 Bg4† 18. Kd3 B×d1 19. R×d1 after which White will soon win substantial material. 15. … K×g7 16. Rf3 Bg4 17. Ne4 Qh2† 18. Kf1 Qh1† 19. Ke2 Q×g2† 20. Ke3 Q×f3†… C.P.M stopped here, saying “and Black has certainly the better game.” Yet in Wayte’s memoir for B.C.M. (1898, page 95) he wrote: “My only game with Mr. Steinitz, very many years ago, ended as might be expected.” So although Wayte was the exchange up when the fragment ends, he must eventually have lost this game.

139. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Simpson’s Divan, 1864 (or possibly January 1865) Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann (game 97) dated the game 1865; Blackburne annotated it at some length in issue 2 of the Household Chess Magazine (25 February 1865), pages 21–22.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. c3 Nf6 5. 0–0!? N×e4?! 5. … d6 was usually played, as in numerous games by Cochrane against Mohishunder Bonnerjee in the 1850s.6 6. d4?! Risky; 6. Bd5 was more often played. 6. … e×d4 7. c×d4 Be7 Blackburne approved this but 7. … d5 was correct. 8. d5 Nd6? 9. d×c6 N×c4 10. Qd4! b×c6 11. Q×g7 Rf8 12. Re1 d5 13. Bh6 Be6 14. Ng5? B×g5 14. … Kd7 was the refutation. 15. B×g5 Qd6 16. f4 Qc5† 17. Kh1 Ne3 18. b4?? Bachmann gives 18.  b3 but the Household Magazine is the primary source and gives 18. b4, attacking the Black queen. Blackburne commented: “Bad, because it forces Black the way that he would go.” He recommended 18. Na3 but Stockfish much prefers 18. Nc3 (or 18. … Nd2) when 18. … Nc2 loses to 19. f5. 18. … Qc2 19. Bh6 0–0–0 20. Na3 Qd3 21. Qg3 d4 22. B×f8 R×f8 23. Nb1 Bd5 24. a4 N×g2 25. Kg1 N×e1 26. Q×e1 Rg8† 0–1 Blackburne wrote: “For the information of our readers generally, we beg to state that Herr Steinitz is considered one of the finest players in London.” Presumably it was victories like this against de Vere that led Steinitz to underestimate his young and improving opponent later, thinking he could give him odds, but he was in a losing position for much of the game.

Early 1865 On 4 December 1864, The Era reported that: “The Blackheath Chess Club continues its Tournament. The services of Mr. Steinitz have been engaged, and that gentleman will at-

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tend their weekly meetings during the next few months.” Soon afterwards the C.P.M. said of the club: “This society, which has rapidly risen in public favour, continues its activity, the result of which is that their Tuesday evening meetings have become highly successful, and on these occasions the Committee have secured the attendance of Mr. Steinitz.”7 Blackheath had already in the eighteenth century become established as one of south London’s wealthiest suburbs and it remained fairly exclusive until its railroad station opened in 1871. Travelers requiring a fast connection to the City could go to nearby Greenwich, where the line to London Bridge had opened in 1838, and we may suppose that it was by that route Steinitz went to the club. It was said that Steinitz and the Russian amateur Belayev played “a wellcontested consultation game” against Bird and de Vere at Blackheath Chess Club in 1865 but the moves were not published.8 Just one game that Steinitz definitely played at the Blackheath club is known. His opponent George Barber was several times mentioned in The Era as being a member of the Blackheath club, playing in the second class of its handicap tournament in 1864. On 31 July 1864, Barber was listed as subscribing one guinea to the Löwenthal testimonial. He was among those present when the annual dinner of the London Chess Club was held at the Ship Hotel in Greenwich on Thursday, 25 May, as were Steinitz and Blackburne, whose healths were among the toasts proposed at that meal.9

ready on Wednesday, 22nd February, Steinitz (along with Bird, Blackburne, and prominent amateurs in the chess world) had been among the large crowd at the St. James’s Chess Club to witness the club’s first telegraph match against Dublin Athenaeum, which was a prelude to the chess congress held in Ireland later in the year.12 The next pair of odds games, absent from the usual collections, was submitted to a chess column by John Odin Howard Taylor, of Norwich, whose first three initials were often given in the chess press as “I.O.H.” He probably saw them played, either in his home town (although Steinitz is not known to have visited Norwich that year), or more likely in London where Taylor was then studying law. The editors of the column concerned were William Mitcheson (a stalwart of Tyneside chess) and Patrick Thomas Duffy (both 1834–1888), who moved to London around this time to take up an accountancy post arranged for him by Bird.

140. G. Barber–Steinitz

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Nc6 The Shields game went 2. … d5 3. e×d5 Q×d5 4. Nc3 Qd8 5. e5 Nc6 6. Nf3. 3. Nf3 d5 4. e×d5 Q×d5 5. Nc3 Qd8 6. f×e5 The two versions are identical from here. 6. … Bg4 7. Bb5 Nge7 8. d3 a6 9. Ba4 b5 10. Bb3 N×e5 “An oversight, which we can pardon for the sake of the pretty termination to which it leads.” 11. N×e5 Be6 12. B×e6 f×e6 13. Qf3 Nf5 14. Qc6† Ke7 The Newcastle paper had the misprint “KQ2.” 15. Bg5 mate (1–0).

Queen’s knight + move odds, Blackheath, London, March 1865 Remove Black’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 92) mis-named the opponent as “Barbes” and said this was played on 29 April 1865, but it was in The Era on 26 March, saying that it “…recently occurred at the Blackheath Chess Club, Herr Steinitz giving the odds of the Queen’s Knight and the move to Mr. Barber, the Treasurer of the Club. In the conduct of this game, Herr Steinitz exhibits his usual dash and spirit.”

1. e4 c5 2. c3 e6 3. f4 a6 4. a4 d5 5. Qf3 d×e4 6. Q×e4 Nf6 7. Qf3 Bd6 8. Bc4 0–0 9. Ne2 e5 10. 0–0 Bg4 11. Qg3 B×e2 12. B×e2 e×f4 13. Qh3 Qc7 14. Na3 Rae8 15. Bf3 c4 16. d4 c×d3 17. Bd2 Re3 18. B×e3 f×e3 19. Rfe1 Re8 20. Bd1 e2 21. Q×d3 Bc5† 22. Kh1 Ng4 23. Qg3 Q×g3 24. h×g3 Re6 and Black mates next move: (0–1). By now, Blackburne was living in London and taking an interest in chess events although he was not playing much competitively. His father, stepmother, and siblings had also moved to the capital from Manchester, although they only stayed a few years before leaving for Yorkshire.10 Later in 1865, The Era noted that Blackburne and Steinitz were among the leading players who sometimes visited the St. James’s Chess Club (of which Löwenthal was the driving force).11 Al-

141. Steinitz–M. Queen’s rook odds, 1865 Remove White’s queen’s rook Newcastle Daily Journal, 23 May 1865, with the opponent anonymous. A nearly identical game was sent by Duffy to the Shields Daily News, 24 October 1866, where it was said to have been “recently played at the Westminster Chess Club” between Steinitz and a Mr. M. It is quite possible that both examples are genuine.

142. Steinitz–Amateur Queen’s rook odds, 1865 Remove White’s queen’s rook Newcastle Daily Journal, 2 May 1865.

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Bc5 3. b4 B×b4 4. f4 Nc6 “Black does wisely to refuse to capture the f-pawn; he should, however, have played 4. … d5.” 5. Nf3 Nf6 6. f×e5 d5 7. e×d5 N×d5 8. c3 Bc5 9. d4 Bb6 10. Ba3 a5 “Sheer loss of time.” 11. 0–0 Ne3 12. B×f7† K×f7 “The only move. From this point Herr Steinitz finishes the game in admirable style.” 13. Ng5† The paper had the misprint “Kt K5 ch.” 13. … Ke8 14. Qh5† g6 15. Q×h7 R×h7 16. Rf8† Kd7 17. e6 mate (1–0). The next two games were played by Taylor himself and first published by Staunton to whom he had probably supplied the scores.

106

Steinitz in London

143. J. O. H. Taylor–Steinitz

146. Steinitz–P. T. Duffy

Casual game, London, August 1865 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann (game 94); from I.L.N., 17 June 1865, with Staunton commenting that Mr. Steinitz is “now considered the strongest foreign player resident in London.”

Simpson’s Divan, 1865 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 89) says played at Simpson’s Divan in London 1865. That is likely but the primary source (T.C.W., I, pages 231–232) only says “Between Messrs. Steinitz and Duffy.”

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d×c3 8. Qb3 Qf6 9. e5 Qg6 10. N×c3 B×c3 11. Q×c3 b6 12. Ba3 Nh6 13. Bd3 Qh5 14. Nd4 Bb7 15. e6 f×e6 16. N×e6 d×e6 17. Ba6 Qa5 18. Q×g7 0–0–0 19. Bd6 R×d6 20. Q×h8† Rd8 21. B×b7† K×b7 22. Q×h7 Nf5 … “and ultimately Mr. Steinitz won the game.” Bachmann incorrectly said White resigns (0–1).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. d5 Na5 10. e5 Bd7 11. Bd3 Ne7 12. Nc3 0–0 13. Bg5 Qe8 14. Ne4 Ng6 15. Nf6† g×f6 16. B×f6 d×e5 17. Qd2 Nf4 18. Q×f4 e×f4 19. Ng5 Qe4 20. B×e4 Rfe8 21. B×h7† Kf8 22. Bd3 a6 23. Nh7† Kg8 24. Bc3 Re7 25. Nf6† Kf8 26. Bb4 1–0

147. Steinitz–F. Burden 144. J. O. H. Taylor–Steinitz Simpson’s Divan, 1865? Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann (game 93); from I.L.N., 17 June 1865, and reprinted in Taylor’s book Chess Skirmishes (game XIV page 15), saying: “Played at the Divan shortly after the great Master began to reside in England.” It was also in I.S.D.N., 26 July 1890.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d×c3 8. Qb3 Qf6 9. e5 Qg6 10. N×c3 B×c3 11. Q×c3 b6 12. Ng5 Nh6 13. Re1 0–0 14. Bd3 Qh5 15. B×h7† Kh8 16. e6 Bb7 17. e×d7 f5 18. Re6 f4 19. Q×g7†?! The desire for brilliancy gets the better of Taylor. The queen sacrifice leads to a better endgame but 19. Bb2! Q×g5 20. h4! would have been absolutely crushing (20. … Qg4 21. R×h6). 19. … K×g7 20. Bb2† Rf6 21. B×f6† Kf8 22. Rae1 Ng4 23. Re8† R×e8 24. d×e8Q† Q×e8 25. R×e8† K×e8 26. Bh8 Kf8 27. Ne6† Ke8 ½–½. The computer thinks White is still winning but Taylor was probably happy to draw, having misplayed his winning attack.

London, 1865 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 91). This was a casual game played in London some time in 1865, and published by Staunton in both the I.L.N., 7 October 1865 and T.C.W., I (1865/6), pages 229–231. ChessBase designated it “London International 1865” although there was no such tournament. The final move of the game may need to be corrected in the reader’s database.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 c6 3. f4 d5 4. f×e5 d4 5. Nce2 Bg4 6. d3 Nd7 7. Nf3 B×f3 8. g×f3 Qh4† 9. Ng3 N×e5 10. Bg2 Bd6 11. 0–0 g6 12. Qe1 Nf6 13. Bd2 h5 14. Nf5 N×f3† 15. R×f3 Q×h2† 16. Kf1 g×f5 17. e5 0–0–0 18. Bf4 Ng4 19. B×h2 N×h2† 20. Kf2 B×e5 21. R×f5 Ng4† 22. Kg1 Rde8 23. Qa5 Bh2† 24. Kh1 Bc7 25. Q×a7 Re7 26. Raf1 f6 27. Bh3 Re2 28. R5f2 Re3 29. B×g4† h×g4† 30. Kg1 Reh3 31. R×f6 Rh1† 32. Kf2 g3† 33. Ke2 Re8† 34. Kd2 g2 35. Qa8† Bb8 (see diagram)

145. P. T. Duffy–Steinitz Simpson’s Divan, 1865 Ruy Lopez (C63) Bachmann (game 90), from I.L.N., 22 July 1865, and also in T.C.W., I (1865/66), pages 144–145.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 f5 4. 0–0 f×e4 5. B×c6 b×c6 6. N×e5 Nf6 7. d4 d6 8. N×c6 Qd7 9. d5 Bb7 10. Bg5 N×d5 11. Q×d5 B×c6 12. Qd4 Qf5 13. Bh4 Kd7 14. Nc3 Re8 15. b4 Qe5 16. Qe3 g5 17. Bg3 Qf6 18. Rad1 h5 19. b5 Ba8 20. Na4 Kc8 21. Q×a7 Bb7 22. Nb6†? Duffy throws away a winning position; simplest was 22. b6. 22. … c×b6 23. Q×b6 h4 24.  B×d6 B×d6 25.  R×d6 Qe7 26.  Rc6† Kb8 27.  a4 e3 28. f×e3 Q×e3† 29. Q×e3 R×e3 30. Rg6 Re5 31. Rg7 Rd8 32. c4 Rd2 33. a5 R×g2† 0–1

After 35. … Bb8

QgkDrDwD DpDwDwDw wDpDw$wD DwDwDwDw wDw0wDwD DwDPDwDw P)PIwDpD DwDwDRDr

36.  R×c6†! b×c6 37.  Q×c6† Kd8 38.  R×h1 g×h1Q 39. Q×h1 Bf4† 40. Kd1 Be3 41. c4 1–0. The English primary sources say 41. c4 and Black resigned. Bachmann (game 91) had 41. b4 instead, but we have seen no primary source for that. ChessBase, Pickard (game 620) and others follow Bachmann.

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Dublin Chess Congress 1865 During the early 1860s there was a considerable revival of chess in Ireland with new clubs forming to rival the longestablished Dublin Library Chess Club in D’Olier Street, where Mackenzie and MacDonnell first played a match. By 1862 they were both in London and gradually the more active Dublin players gravitated to the Dublin Athenaeum at 33 Anglesea Street in the city center, a middle-class cultural institution which had been established in 1860. Chess there was reorganized under the name of Dublin Chess Club. Although the timeline is a bit unclear, the Dublin Evening Mail of 1891 summarized the changes plausibly: The [Library] club retained full vigour until early in “the sixties,” when it found itself, with the wane of the establishment to which it was attached, gradually transferred to and ultimately absorbed in the Victoria and Dublin Athenaeum Chess Clubs…. The Victoria Chess Club was started about 1860. Messrs. Robt. Collins, Peter Jones junior, Thomas Long BA and the Rev. G. A. MacDonnell being prominent members, and the Northumberland Hotel, Eden-quay, its quarters…. Ultimately this club coalesced with the Dublin Athenaeum … which had the great desideratum for chess clubs—comfortable and suitable accommodation, available daily from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m.—to share with the Victorians and Dublin D’Olier Street Library players on their coming in to swell the ranks….13

Another person who was influential in promoting the idea of a chess congress was Edward Cronhelm, a Dublin accountant who was related to a prominent business family in Halifax, Yorkshire. A letter from Cronhelm, in the Irish Times on 11 February 1865, proposed that a chess congress be held in association with the Exposition of the Arts, Manufactures, and Industry of all Nations that was to begin in Dublin the following May. There would be three tournaments: an Open (the No. 1 tournament), another for British and Irish players, and a third (played over an extended period) for Irish residents. With support from Löwenthal, the Congress was advertised in England although few players made the arduous journey across the Irish Sea to participate. For Steinitz, though, the main tournament was a golden opportunity because he was not excluded from entering by being a foreigner. His main rival was MacDonnell, who was by now a Church of England curate in a London parish. The aforementioned Thomas Long, later known for his minor publications on chess openings, was treasurer of the Congress and kept a scrapbook which is now in the possession of the Dublin Chess Club. He appears to have been a capable organizer who later held an important civil service job in the Board of Works. In 1858, at least, he had been honorary secretary of the Leinster Cricket Club, which was founded in 1852. Two prominent members of the same club, who were also keen chess players, were the brothers Samuel Barry and George Frith Barry, the latter being one of the strongest Irish chessplayers at this time who also captained Ireland at cricket on at least ten occasions. Even the timing

Printed announcement of the preliminary meeting of the 1865 Dublin Chess Congress. (Author’s collection.)

of the Congress was apparently fixed to follow the end of the cricket season. It began just two days after the last big Irish match of 1865, in which both the Barrys played for Leinster against the aristocratic English touring team, I Zingari (on 22–23 September). The proceedings began with a preliminary meeting on Monday, 23 September 1865. There was limited newspaper coverage of the actual play though there were many official reports beforehand of plans and rules,14 the press being more interested in a second telegraph match between London and Dublin and the simultaneous exhibitions that were held: one by Löwenthal (who came over for a few days) and two (blindfold) by Steinitz himself. None of the games appeared in the Irish papers but several found their way to publication in England later. The Morning Post, Tuesday, 3 October 1865, citing the Irish Saunders’s News-Letter of the previous day, stated: “Herr Steinitz, the great German professor of chess now for some

108

Steinitz in London

time resident in London, and one of the most finished players of the day, arrived in Dublin early last week, and is engaged in one of the No. 1 tournament games with an able amateur.” Löwenthal was expected that day.

148. E. Cronhelm–Steinitz Dublin Congress No. 1 tournament, 27 September 1865 Giuoco Piano (C54) B.L.L., 28 October 1865. This game is the only one from the tournament to be precisely dated in the sources. Bachmann overlooked it but Hooper and Pickard include it.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. c3 Nf6 5. d4 e×d4 6. e5?! d5 7. e×d6? Q×d6 8. 0–0 0–0 9. h3 Bd7 10. b4 Bb6 11. b5 Ne5 12. Bf4 N×f3† 13. Q×f3 Qc5 14. Nd2 d×c3 15. Q×c3 Nd5 16. Qg3 N×f4 17. Q×f4 B×b5 18. Rfc1 Bc6 19. Bb3 Qd4 20. Q×d4 B×d4 21. Rab1 Rfe8 22. Rc4 Rad8 23. Nf3 Bb6 24. Rf4 Bd5 25. Ng5 B×b3 26. a×b3 f6 27. Ne4 Rd4 28. Re1 f5 29. Nf6† Kf7 30. N×e8 R×f4 0–1

149. The Rev. G. A. MacDonnell–Steinitz Dublin Congress No. 1 tournament, 1865 Ruy Lopez (C67) Bachmann (game 100); I.L.N., 4 November 1865; C.P.M., III (1865), page 365; N.B.S.Z., III (1866), pages 47–48.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 N×e4 5. d4 Be7 6.  d5 Nd6 7.  d×c6 N×b5 8.  c×d7† B×d7 9.  N×e5 Be6 10. Nd3 0–0 11. Be3 Bc4 12. Qf3 Bf6 13. Nd2 B×d3 14. c×d3 Q×d3 Rather than the simplification this involves, 14. … c6 would have been better. 15.  Q×b7 B×b2 16.  Rab1 Rab8 17.  Qa6 Bd4 18.  B×d4 Q×d4 19.  R×b5 R×b5 20.  Q×b5 Q×d2 21. Qa6 Qd4 22. Rb1 g6 23. h3 Re8 24. Qb5 Re6 25. Qb8† Kg7 26. Q×c7 Re2 27. Qg3 R×a2 28. Rb7 Qf6 29. Qe3 ½–½. Steinitz certainly ought to have played on with chances of converting his extra pawn to victory.

After 26. … c6

wDb4w4wi DpDwDw1w pDp0w0wh DwDw0wDp wDw)P0wD DB)wDPDP PDP!wGPI DwDw$RDw

C.P.M. says Black resigned here, for if 35. … R×d8 36. B×f6† Qg7 37. R×g7 winning in a few moves. Bachmann gives these moves as played but they were only a note in the primary source.

151. Steinitz–The Rev. E. J. Cordner Dublin Congress No. 1 tournament, 1865 Falkbeer Counter-Gambit (C31) Bachmann (game 99); I.L.N., 28 October 1865; T.C.W., 1865/66, page 304.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 d5 3. e×d5 e×f4 4. Nf3 Q×d5 5. Nc3 Qe6† 6. Kf2 Bd6 7. Bb5† Kf8 8. Re1 Be5 9. R×e5 Qb6† 10. d4 Nd7 11. Nd5 Qd6 12. B×d7 B×d7 13. B×f4 Be6 14. Qd2 Nf6 15.  N×f6 g×f6 16.  R×e6 Q×e6 17.  Re1 Qf5 18.  g4 Qg6 19. Bh6† Kg8 20. Nh4 Q×g4 21. Rg1 1–0 The next game is sometimes said to be a play-off since Steinitz and MacDonnell both beat all the other competitors. Under the rules, it was a replay with reverse colors because (as at London 1862) the rules said: “Each competitor to play one game on even terms, exclusive of ‘draws,’ with every other combatant. ‘Draws’ not to count.”15

152. Steinitz–The Rev. G. A. MacDonnell

Dublin Congress No. 1 tournament, 1865 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 98); C.P.M., ns 1 (1865), pages 369–371. Bolt, probably William Bolt from Dawlish in Devonshire (known as a correspondence player), traveled especially from England to compete.

Dublin Chess Congress No. 1 tournament, October 1865 Philidor Defense (C41) Bachmann (game 101); I.L.N., XLVII (21 October 1865), page 395; T.C.W., I, pages 265–266; C.P.M., ns 1 (1865), page 367; N.B.S.Z., III (1866), pages 48–50; G. R. Neumann, Der Schachspiel (1867), pages 74–75; Neishtadt, pages 48–50.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bb4 4. Nf3 d6 5. 0–0 Nf6 6. d3 0–0 7. Bg5 B×c3 8. b×c3 h6 9. Bh4 Qe7 10. Qd2 Be6 11. Bb3 Rad8 12. Rae1 Kh7 13. d4 Bc8 14. Qe3 a6 15. Nd2 g5 16. Bg3 Ng4 17. Qd3 h5 18. f3 Nh6 19. h3 f6 20. Nc4 Qg7 21. Ne3 Kh8 22. Bf2 Ne7 23. Qd2 Ng6 24. Nd5 Nf4 25. N×f4 g×f4 26. Kh2 c6 (see diagram) 27. Bh4 C.P.M. has “QB to R fourth,” which is Bh4, but Bachmann and Pickard misinterpreted this as Ba4. 27. … Ng8 28.  g3 f×g3† 29.  B×g3 Ne7 30.  f4 Ng6 31.  f5 Ne7 32. Rg1 Qh7 33. Bh4 b5 34. d×e5 d×e5 35. Q×d8 1–0

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 d6 3. Bc4 Be7 4. c3 Nf6 5. d3 0–0 6. 0–0 Bg4 Neumann wrote (in N.B.S.Z. and in his book) that this move and the subsequent minor piece exchange is very disadvantageous for Black. 7. h3 B×f3 8. Q×f3 c6 9. Bb3 Nbd7 10. Qe2 Nc5 11. Bc2 Ne6 12. g3 Qc7 13. f4 Rfe8 14. Nd2 Rad8 15. Nf3 Kh8 16. f5 Nf8 17. g4 h6 18. g5 h×g5 19. N×g5 Kg8 20. Kh1 N6h7 21. Nf3 Rd7 22. Rg1 Bd8 23. Bh6 f6 24. Rg2 d5 Neumann: “This attempt by Black to free his game somewhat costs him at least the exchange.” 25. Rag1 Ree7 26. e×d5 c×d5 27. Ba4 Rd6 28. R×g7† R×g7 29. R×g7† Q×g7 30. B×g7

150. Steinitz–W? Bolt

4. Quiet Years, 1864–1865

109

Steinitz as Blindfold Player

The Rev. George Alcock MacDonnell. Steinitz’s only real rival in the Dublin tournament. (Sketch from The Westminster Papers, IX [July 1876] facing page 49.)

K×g7 31. Qg2† Kh8 32. Nd2 Bb6 33. Be8 Be3 34. Nf1 Bf4 35. Bf7 Ng5 36. Bh5 Rd7 37. Bg4 e4 38. Qf2 Bb8 39. Qd4 Be5 40. Q×a7 e×d3 41. Kg2 d4 42. c4 Kg7 43. Qa3 Ne4 44. Q×d3 Nc5 45. Qa3 Bd6 46. Ng3 d3 47. Nh5† Kf7 48. b4 Na6 49. c5 Be5 50. c6 1–0 Dublin 1865 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Steinitz, William MacDonnell, George A. Bolt, William Cordner, Edward J. Cronhelm, Edward

1

2

• =1 =0 • 0 0 0 0 0 0

3

4

5 Pts.

1 1 • 0 0

1 1 1 • 0

1 1 1 1 •

4 3 2 1 0

The Dublin Chess Congress was, according to Löwenthal in The Era, the first occasion on which Steinitz played chess simultaneously without sight of the board and men, at least in public. He had already claimed to be able to play blindfold back in 1858 (see page 20) but there is no record of his having previously done it in England. This was a feat guaranteed to impress the public and, ever since Philidor, had been a useful accomplishment for a professional player to cultivate. Some chess masters could play blindfold with relative ease (notably Kieseritzky, Morphy, Paulsen, Blackburne, and later Zukertort), some could do it slowly but steadily (Harrwitz and Steinitz), whereas other masters could not play multiple blindfold games, or did not attempt to do so. There were also some lesser players whose memory powers enabled them to conduct several games blindfold; Ladislas Maczuski was an early example of this. Steinitz gave two blindfold exhibitions in Dublin after he had won the principal tournament. Hearst and Knott, authors of the standard history of blindfold chess, make no mention of these exhibitions, implying that Steinitz first played blindfold in 1867.16 Landsberger (page 31) did briefly mention Steinitz playing blindfold in Dublin against some of the best Irish players but not that there were two exhibitions, or that he also gave one there in 1881. Landsberger never mentions Steinitz as playing more than six simultaneous blindfold games, which he probably did first in Dundee in 1867 (see Games 241–246). Steinitz played six blindfold games on several occasions but seven was the most he achieved. A book in Spanish on blindfold chess includes a game (number 389 in this book) which was one of seven that Steinitz played in Cardiff in 1873,17 but he had earlier played seven at Oxford on 26 February 1872 and did so again in 1875. Steinitz appears to have been a steady and accurate blindfold player, not attempting brilliancies in the manner of Blackburne, but having little difficulty in recalling the positions. In the first of his Dublin exhibitions, on Saturday, 7 October, Steinitz played three opponents simultaneously without sight of the board and won them all.18 His opponents were never named, although a detailed description of the occasion appeared in several Irish newspapers in almost identical terms, so it is likely that one reporter filed his copy for the Dublin daily Saunders’s Newsletter and the rest copied. The fullest account was as follows: DUBLIN CHESS CONGRESS, 1865. BLINDFOLD CHESS. On Saturday evening last Herr Steinitz’s powers of playing chess without sight of boards or men were put to the test, and well did he get through the ordeal. At about half-past six o’clock play commenced, and continued without interruption until midnight. Three strong amateurs, of the Dublin Chess Club, were Herr Steinitz’s antagonists; Messrs. Long and Rynd acting as tellers, the former conveying the moves from the boards to the blindfold player, and the latter bringing the moves of Herr Steinitz to the respective boards numbered 1, 2,

110

Steinitz in London

and 3. In order to prevent any misconceptions arising as to the moves actually sent, the amateurs wrote their moves on slips of paper, which were shown to the blindfold player, and then retained by Mr. Rynd, and in like manner were Herr Steinitz’s moves conveyed to the amateurs. At board 1 Herr Steinitz opened the King’s Gambit, which was declined by 2. B., 2 B. 4, 3 P. Queen 3 etc. [sic]; the very best way of refusing this gambit (although in theory there no satisfactory method of evading any gambit, excepting the Queen’s) and the opening moves were played with classical correctness on the part of the amateur. In a few moves after, however, the German, obtaining rather the better position, ventured to sacrifice a piece for two pawns in the hope of regaining the piece shortly after. But in this he was foiled by the very sound play, at this point, of the amateur. The sacrifice, however, procured for the blindfolded player so open and attacking a position that he ultimately won the game. Board 3 having some short time before also succumbed to the Vienna, or Hampe’s [sic] opening, followed up by the gambit on the King’s side. At a quarter to twelve o’clock board 2 still survived, but before the midnight toll the professor had a piece ahead, a pawn close on queening, and a very powerful attack. So the amateur resigned. At the fall of each board the professor was greeted, deservedly so, with loud plaudits from the spectators, who all appeared fully to appreciate the wonderful and difficult nature of the German’s task. Although nearly 200 moves were played, Herr Steinitz not only did not make a single slip or weak move, but actually played apparently as strong as if the board were before him, sending his moves with great celerity, and at the end of those five and a half hours of strained memory, and we almost think too dangerous mental activity, the professor seemed nearly as fresh as when he commenced his work. Herr Löwenthal was present during a part of the performance, but, having to leave for London the following morning, he took farewell of the Dublin chess players at an early period of the evening.19

Doubtless encouraged by this success, and presumably offered a larger fee, Steinitz agreed to play more games the following Saturday before returning to London. An advertisement for Steinitz’s second blindfold simul appeared on page 1 of the Dublin Daily Express. He played at the Athenaeum, starting at 4 p.m. “Parties not subscribers to the Congress general fund will be admitted at a charge of 1s. Ladies 6d.” So on Saturday, 14 October, he played five opponents, drawing one of the games and winning the rest. He probably left the next day or on Monday, 16 October. The following report appeared (at least in part) in Dublin newspapers and elsewhere: DUBLIN CHESS CONGRESS. BLINDFOLD CHESS. As we announced in our impression of Saturday, the talented professor, Herr Steinitz, repeated his performance of playing several games at the same time, and without the aid of that sense— sight—which to chess players as a class is the one most needful to be exercised. And wonderful and successful as was Herr Steinitz’s previous performance week ago, he on last Saturday eclipsed, we believe, all his former efforts in blindfold chess. He played against five very good amateurs, and did not lose a single game, winning four and drawing one, after about seven hours of unceasing mental concentration. To give an instance of the perfect command his mental vision has of all the varying positions on the respective boards, one of the five

amateurs mentioned to him that he was unavoidably compelled to go out for an hour to dine, to which Herr Steinitz at once consented; but the amateur might as well not have come back, for the German’s skill and retentive memory won the day, notwithstanding the delay and interruption. We are well aware that although these feats of Herr Steinitz never, until recent years, have been surpassed, not even by the renowned Philidor, who never went beyond three games at same time, yet he has been excelled lately by the German (Gaulsen [sic]), the Englishman (Blackburne), and the world-famed American (Paul Morphy), not in excellence of blindfold play, but only as to the number of games played. But when we take into consideration that Steinitz has not hitherto been known to fame as a blindfold player, and that he has won his spurs so successfully amongst Dublin amateurs, undoubtedly strong, we cannot but prophecy [sic] for him a success in blindfold play, in time, fully equal to any of his brilliant predecessors. At the same time we would not wish to encourage the practice of blindfold chess, believing it to be a tour de force, if not dangerous to life, at least prejudicial to health. It is no doubt a tremendous triumph of intellect and memory, and is one of the mighty instances of what the human mind is capable. The Lord Chancellor of Ireland honored [sic] the performance by his presence during a portion of the proceedings, and appeared to be much interested in the novel scene, as also were all those present, throughout the evening. Herr Steinitz has now attended the congress three weeks, clearly evincing by his lengthened stay his interest in the proceedings, and the success of Ireland’s first international chess gathering. We sincerely trust that, as a good tale has its moral, so our chess congress—now nearly terminated—will have its good effects in giving a stimulus to chess in this country, and creating a desire for its cultivation amongst many hitherto ignorant of its mysteries. We do not wish to see chess elevated above its proper sphere, but we do desire to see it rank in this country as in other countries in the high place of intellectual amusements that it deserves. For the man after his daily toll, whether intellectual or manual, for the fair and the youthful, the middle-aged and the old—it is the best of all antidotes against ennui, and giving way to the weaknesses of our nature. It not only employs us during our leisure hours, but also sharpens the intellect, improves the memory and reason, and cultivates many other good qualities. What good chess-player ever drinks or eats to excess habitually? For no game is there required much a mens sane in corpore sano as in the intellectual pastime, chess.20

Staunton published all four of Steinitz’s wins from this second exhibition: two in his column and the other two later in The Chess World. The drawn game did not survive and even the name of that opponent is unknown. The second team Steinitz met was not only numerically larger but stronger. It included the chief Congress organizer Thomas Long, who had been one of the tellers for the first display, and George Barry, runner-up to MacDonnell in the second tournament of the Congress (confined to British and Irish players); why he chose not to enter the main tournament is unknown. The following game was incorrectly attributed to him by Bachmann, who did not know there were two Barrys; also this game has been assigned to the first exhibition. The Chess World makes it clear Sam played the game and that it was in the second exhibition.

4. Quiet Years, 1864–1865

153. Steinitz–S. Barry Dublin second blindfold simul, 14 October 1865 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Bachmann (game 103); T.C.W., I, pages 300–301.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6 4. Bc4 Nf6 5. d3 Bg4 6. f×e5 d×e5? 6. … B×f3. 7. B×f7† Kf8 If 7. … K×f7 8. N×e5† wins. 8. Bb3 Nc6 9. c3 Qd6 10. Qe2 Rd8 11. Bc2 B×f3 12. Q×f3 Kf7 13. Bg5 Rhf8 14. Nd2 b5 15. 0–0–0 Kg8 16. Nb3 Bb6 17. Qh3 Ne7 18. d4 Ng6 19. Rhf1 c6 20. Rf5! Qe7 21. Rdf1 Bc7 22. Nc5 Rd6 23. Nd3 Rdd8 24. d×e5! B×e5 25. N×e5 N×e5 26. Qg3 Ng6 27. e5 N×e5 28. R×e5 Qd6 29. Rd1 Qc7 30. B×f6 R×f6 31. Re8† 1–0. James Alexander (“Porterfield”) Rynd (1846–1917), had won the third tournament at the Congress, restricted to Irish players, and he is accordingly generally recognized as the first Irish Chess Champion. He was only 19 years old at the time.21 Rynd had been one of the tellers for the first blindfold exhibition and presumably (since he kept notes) he was in charge with an assistant or two for the second one. Later he had a chess column in the Saturday edition of the Dublin Evening Herald newspaper, and there his obituary of George Barry, more than a quarter of a century later, recalled Steinitz’s visit for the Congress. Note also Rynd’s comments on Steinitz’s accent: In those halcyon days the sturdiest at the board (as also the best at the willow) was George Frith Barry. He and his brother, genial Sam (another fine cricketer and chess player), living in 48 Harrington street, made their hospitable quarters there a chess rendezvous, to which pleasant recollections cling. Here played “Wilhelm,” whose broken English suggested “beer shops” when he meant “bishops,” and who seemed in want of an Irishman when he called “Patt” for stalemate. And hither resorted R. D. Barbor, chessist, cricketer, and champion sprinter; Thomas Long, and many another kindred genius. Alas! The Barrys are no more. From a note-book, brown with age, we cull the moves of a spirited contest and the guesses then made of what might have been.22

154. Steinitz–G. F. Barry Dublin second blindfold simul, 14 October 1865 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 962) and also game 104a in the second edition. First published in I.L.N., XLVII (25 November 1865), page 523, which clearly stated the opponent was G. F. Barry and that (along with Game 156 against Twigg) these were two of five games. That definitely places them in the exhibition on 14 October. It was also published in N.B.S.Z., III (1866, page 99–100), with notes probably by Neumann, and in Rynd’s article, cited above.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 B×g1?! 4. R×g1 d6 5. d4 e×d4 6. Q×d4 Nf6 7. Be3 0–0 8. h3 Nc6 9. Qd2 Re8 Rynd: “Our note-book shows that if Steinitz now moved B to Q3 Barry

111

could well reply P to Q4.” 10.  g4 N×e4 11.  N×e4 R×e4 12. 0–0–0 Qe7 Rynd: “Note-book marks 13. R to Kt3 for Steinitz.” 13. Bf2 Qf6 14. f5 Ra4 15. Kb1 b5 Rynd: “This vigorous advance took our fancy.” 16.  Bd3! Rb8 17.  g5 Qe7 18. f6! Qe6 19. b3 Ra3? 20. Rde1 Ne5 21. Bc5! Rynd: “Beautiful play! Would that Barry’s Rook were now at a6. The Bishop cannot be taken on account of 22. Qf4.” 21. … Ra6 If 21. … d×c5 22. Qf4 (Rynd). 22. Qf4 g6 Staunton: “In anticipation, apparently, of Steinitz’s next move … but Barry failed to see all the consequences of that move.” 23.  Qh4 Q×h3 Rynd: “Note-book guessed” 23.  … h5 24. g×h6 Kh7 etc. 24. Qd4 Bf5 Rynd had guessed 24. … Be6 would be played. 25. Rh1 Qg4 26. B×f5 Q×d4 27. B×d4 Nf3 Rynd: “Notebook shows that” if 27. … g×f5 28. B×e5 d×e5 29. R×e5 “White would win.” (But 29. Rh6 followed by Rdh1, as given by Neumann in N.B.S.Z., is more decisive.) 28.  B×g6 N×e1 29.  B×h7† Kf8 30.  Bf5 1–0. Rynd said “White won.” N.B.S.Z. says White gives mate in at most five moves. I.L.N. stopped here and says “and after a struggle of six hours, White resigns.” ChessBase has a continuation of unknown origin; no primary source was found for these extra moves: 30. … Kg8 31. g6 d5 32. g7 R×f6 33. B×f6 Re8 34. Rh8 mate.

155. Steinitz–T. Long Dublin second blindfold simul, 14 October 1865 Scandinavian Defense (B01) Bachmann (game 102); T.C.W., I, pages 301–302.

1. e4 d5 2. e×d5 Q×d5 3. Nc3 Qd8 4. d4 Bf5 5. Nf3 e6 6. Bc4 Bb4 7. 0–0 B×c3 8. b×c3 h6 9. Ne5 Nf6 10. Ba3 Nd5 11. Qd2 Ne7 12. f4 0–0 13. Rae1 c6 14. g4 Bh7 15. f5 e×f5 16. g×f5 N×f5 17. B×f8 Q×f8 18. N×f7 Nd7 19. N×h6† Kh8 20. Nf7† Kg8 21. Qg5 Nb6 22. Be6 Qe7 23. R×f5 Q×g5† 24. R×g5 B×c2 25. Rh5 g6 26. Ng5† Kg7 27. Rh7† Kf6 28. h4 Rf8 29. Bg4 Bf5 30. B×f5 1–0

156. Steinitz–S. Twigg Dublin second blindfold simul, 14 October 1865 French Defense (C15) Bachmann (game 104), from I.L.N. 25 November 1865, saying the game lasted four hours; N.B.S.Z. III (1866), pages 12–14.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e×d5 B×c3† 5. b×c3 e×d5 6. Nf3 Nf6 7. Bd3 0–0 8. 0–0 Bg4 9. h3 Bh5 10. Be3 Ne4 11. c4 f5 12. c×d5 Nc3 13. Qe1 B×f3 14. Q×c3 B×d5 15. Qd2 Qf6 16. c4 Be4 17. B×e4 f×e4 18. f3 e×f3 19. R×f3 Qd6 20. R×f8† K×f8 21. Rf1† Kg8 22. Qf2 Nd7 23. Qf7† Kh8 24. c5 Qc6 25. d5 Qb5 26. c6 Nf6 27. R×f6 1–0. Black resigned. N.B.S.Z. gave the possible continuation 27. … g×f6 28. Q×f6† Kg8 29. Qe6† Kg7 30. Bh6† Kh8 31. Qf6† Kg8 32. Qg7 mate.

112

Steinitz in London

Back in England 157. Steinitz–J. O. H. Taylor Simpson’s Divan, 1865 King’s Gambit (C39) Score and annotations in quotes from the Newcastle Daily Journal, 22 November 1865; reprinted without notes and undated in Taylor’s Chess Skirmishes, game XIII page 14, saying “Played at Simpson’s Divan, ‘Auld lang syne.’” This game is in none of the usual Steinitz collections.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Bg7 “At this point of the game it is usual to adopt one of the following moves, viz., …h5, …d6, …Be7, …Nf6. The move in the text was first adopted by Herr Paulsen.” 6. N×g4?! Steinitz usually played the normal 6. d4. 6. … d5 7. Nf2 Steinitz avoids the trap 7. e×d5?? Qe7†. 7. … Ne7 8. d3 “A good move.” 8. … 0–0 9. Nc3 d4? Black should play 9. … f5 or 9. … Qd6. 10. Ne2 f5 11. N×f4 f×e4 12. d×e4 Qd6 13. Bc4† Kh8 14. 0–0 Ng6 “Black here was afraid to exchange his Rook for the Bishop and Kt, because of the strong attack to which he would thereby subject himself. Such play, however, would have been better than that adopted.” 15. N2d3 Nc6 16. Qh5 Nce5 17. N×g6† N×g6 18. R×f8† Q×f8 19. Bg5 Bd7 20. Rf1 Qc8 21. Rf7 Bg4 22. Qh6 “All these moves are in capital style; if Black now captures the Queen a beautiful mate follows in four moves.” 22.  … Qg8 23.  Bf6 B×f6 24.  R×f6 Q×c4 25. R×g6 Rg8 26. Ne5 Q×a2 27. R×g4 R×g4 28. Qf8† Rg8 29. Ng6† h×g6 30. Qh6 mate (1–0). “A fitting termination to a very interesting game.”

158. Steinitz–J. Gocher Simpson’s Divan, fall 1865 King’s Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 82); The Era, 19 November 1865; C.P.M., ns 1 (1866), page 373, where Löwenthal described Gocher as “an amateur favourably known in the Chess circles as a player of considerable ability.” In The Era he also remarked on “how ably Herr Steinitz conducted the attack, and the game also affords an example of his brilliant style of play.” Bachmann and Pickard date this game 1864 but in view of the date of its earliest publication it was probably played shortly after Steinitz’s return from Dublin.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Qe7 9. B×f4 Nh5 10. g3 f6 11. Qe2 f×e5 12.  d×e5 N×f4 13.  g×f4 Bc5 14.  Nc3 Bb4 15.  e6! Qf6 16.  0–0–0 B×c3 17.  b×c3 Q×c3 18.  Q×g4! Q×c4 19. Qh5† Kd8 20. e7† K×e7 21. Rhe1† Kd6 22. Qe5† Kc5 23. Re4 Q×a2 24. Qc3† Kd6 25. Qb4† c5 26. d×c6† Kc7 27. Qd6† Kb6 28. Rb4† Ka6 29. Qd3† and mates next move (1–0).

159. J. Robey–Steinitz Casual game, London, 1865 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 117); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 51–52; one of five games played “a short time since,” Steinitz winning the other four. Bachmann and Pickard say it was played in 1865 but it could have been early 1866.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. Nc3 Na5 10. e5 d×e5 11. B×f7† Kf8 12. Ba3† Ne7 13. N×e5 Q×d4 14. Qh5 Q×c3 15. Rad1 c5 16. Rd3 Q×d3 17. N×d3 g6 18. Qf3 Kg7 19. Bb2† Kh6 White mates in four moves said C.P.M.: 20. Qf6 Nf5 21. Bc1† Ne3 22. B×e3† Kh5 23. Qg5 mate (1–0).

160. Steinitz–The Rev. J. Ellis Queen’s knight odds St. George’s Club, London, 14 November 1865 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 95); C.P.Q.C., August 1871, pages 290–291, but says played at the St. George’s Club on 14 November 1865.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. d4 d6 6. 0–0 h6 7.  c3 Nc6 8.  g3 g4 9.  Ne1 f3 10.  Nd3 Nge7 11.  Nf4 Na5 12. Qa4† c6 13. Bd3 b5 14. Qc2 Nc4 15. b3 Nb6 16. Nh5 0–0 17. h3 f5 18. e×f5 B×f5 19. B×f5 N×f5 20. h×g4 Qe8 21. R×f3 Ne7 22. Bf4 Qg6 23. Qf2 Q×g4 24. N×g7 Q×g7 25. B×d6 Nbd5 26. Be5 R×f3 27. Q×f3 Rf8 28. Qe2 Qg6 29. c4 Nf4 30. Qe3 Nh3† 31. Kh1 Qh5 32. g4 Nf2† 33. Kg2 Q×g4†… C.P.Q.C. and Bachmann both say “and Black won,” which usually implies that further (unrecorded) moves were played. 0–1

161. Steinitz–Van der Meden Queen’s knight odds, London Chess Club, 1865 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 96); The Era, 10 December 1865. Löwenthal said the loser was a member of the club. He republished it, with different notes, in Land and Water, on 29 April 1871, without indication of date and again the opponent was again just called “Amateur.” The game reappeared in I.C.M, I (1885), page 210, after a query had arisen (on pages 142–143) whether it had been played by Morphy or by Steinitz. There had already in 1866 been an argument in print about who first played this game. Steinitz wrote: “I played the game, a Muzio Gambit at the odds of a Kt at the old London Chess Club, against Herr van der Meden, then Belgian Consul in London in the year 1866 at the very latest.” Löwenthal was present and took down the game, he said, pointing out that later Staunton had the column in The Era.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. 0–0 g×f3 6. Q×f3 Qf6 7. e5 Q×e5 8. B×f7† Era: “This move was first adopted by Morphy. Curiously enough there is no mention made of it in the recently published works in Germany.” (Steinitz also

4. Quiet Years, 1864–1865 said that B×f7† might have been played by Cochrane in a game he had not seen.) L&W: “In an even game the sacrifice of a second piece here would be unsound, but if not properly met it gives White an irresistible attack.” (The point is that there is no knight on b1 to obstruct the path of the QR coming to f1 with tempo at move 15 in the winning combination.) 8. … K×f7 9. d4 Q×d4† 10. Be3 Qf6 11. Qh5† Era: “The masterly style in which Herr S. conducts the game evidences in a high degree his great power in attacking positions.” 11. … Qg6 12. R×f4† Nf6 13. R×f6† L&W: “The termination is extremely elegant. Black’s moves are all forced.” 13. … K×f6 14. Bd4† Kf7 Steinitz: “The first deviation from Morphy’s game in the American Chess Monthly of July 1858 was caused by my opponent, who, no doubt, made a stronger defense than Morphy’s adversary, which called for a line of play different from and more difficult than Morphy’s finish.” Morphy’s adversary adopted 14. … Ke7 and that game proceeded 15. Re1† Kf7 16. Qd5† Qe6 17. Qf3† Ke8 18. Qh5† Kd8 19. R×e6 d×e6 20. B×h8 and White ultimately won. 15. Rf1† Era: “We invite the attention of our readers to this peculiarly interesting position. White has now a forced won game, but it is not so easy to discover the moves. Let the reader, before proceeding with the game, try to find out the modus operandi.” 15. … Kg8? 15. … Ke7 would hold Black’s disadvantage to a minimum (he will soon give up Q for R) and with good defense he might draw. 16. Qe5 Bg7 17. Qd5† Qe6 18. Qg5 Qh6 19. Qd8† Bf8 20. Qe8 Ellis, Chess Sparks (game 110), page 39, stopped here saying “And White mates in five more moves” (1–0). White forces mate in 10 moves according to Gustavus Reichhelm who published it in the Philadelphia Daily Evening Bulletin, 16 February 1866, saying that he had “lately” played it. Then in his 22 October column (quoted afterwards in The Era) Reichhelm was more specific, saying he had played it in 1864 against Philadelphia amateur R. B. Keys, and accused Steinitz of “stealing” it! Reichhelm added that: “In conclusion, we beg leave to mention that another one of Mr. Steinitz’s games is identical with a game played long ago between Messrs. Ernest Morphy and Schaub.” (Compare what was said about Game 109.)

proved to be too much. Steinitz made a positive start but his opponent soon found his measure. Steinitz’s blunder in the difficult and instructive ending of Game 167 effectively put paid to his hopes. Had he taken his chances that day, the score would have been level at the Christmas break. This was the only head-to-match that Steinitz lost until his first defeat by Lasker in 1894. The Era of 10 December 1865 said the match was about to start; by their deadline for the 17 December issue the first game has already been played, but the exact start date is unknown. The Era of Christmas Eve says that meetings of the club were well attended by leading players, “in large measure” because of the interest in the match. The only dated game is the concluding one, played on 10 January 1866. The sequence of games is known for certain as they were all published and numbered in the Chess Player’s Magazine. In every game, Black’s f-pawn must be removed from the board.

162. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Odds match (1), December 1865 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 105); first published in The Era, 31 December 1865, with notes by Löwenthal. This game is also in I.L.N., 20 January 1866; T.C.W., I (1865/6), pages 371–373; C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), page 10. The primary sources disagree on how the game concluded.

1. e4 Nc6 2. d4 e5 3. d×e5 N×e5 4. f4 Nf7 5. Bc4 Ngh6 6. Nf3 Bc5 7. Nc3 0–0 8. Qd3 c6 9. Bd2 d5 10. Bb3 b5 11. 0–0–0 a5 12. a4 b4 13. N×d5 c×d5 14. B×d5 Ba6 15. Qb3 Rb8 16. Ng5 Qe7 17. f5 Kh8 18. Ne6 Rfe8 19. Qg3? 19. f6 g×f6 20. N×c5 Q×c5 21. B×f7 (Staunton). 19. … Rg8 20. h4 Bd6 21. Qb3 Be5 22. Ng5 Rgf8 23. g4 Bc8 24. Nf3 N×g4 25. B×f7 Nf2 26. N×e5 Q×e5 27. Rhf1 N×d1 28. Bf4 Q×e4 29. B×b8 Ne3 30. Re1 B×f5 31. Bh5 R×b8 32. R×e3 Qh1† 33. Bd1 Rd8 34. c4 Q×h4 35. Re2 Qf4† 36. Qe3 Q×c4† (see diagram)

After 36. … Q×c4†

Failure Against de Vere Steinitz conceded de Vere odds of pawn and move in this match at the London Chess Club for the first to win seven games, draws not counting. Two hours were allowed for each 24 moves.23 “A handsome prize” awaited the winner of the match.24 It is probable that there were backers on both sides among the members with some consolation money guaranteed to the impecunious Steinitz should he lose. It is unlikely that he would back himself at such risky odds and indeed they

113

wDw4wDwi DwDwDw0p wDwDwDwD 0wDwDbDw P0qDwDwD DwDw!wDw w)wDRDwD DwIBDwDw

37. Bc2 This is the plausible move, and the finish given in Löwenthal’s publications, followed by Bachmann and Pickard. The Staunton version 37. Rc2 is obviously hopeless because there is nothing to do but resign after 37. … B×c2. 37. … Bc2 and Black won (0–1). White can play on for a while by 38. Qe8†! (38. R×c2 Qf1†) 38. … R×e8 39. R×e8†

114

Steinitz in London

Qg8 40. R×g8† K×g8 41. K×c2 although after 41. … h5 the two-pawn deficit is a decisive disadvantage.

163. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Odds match (2), December 1865 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 106); C.P.M., ns 2 1866, pages 12–13.

1.  e4 e6 2.  d4 d5 3.  e5 c5 4.  Nf3 c×d4 5.  N×d4 Nc6 6. N×c6 b×c6 7. Bd3 Ne7 8. Bg5 Qb6 9. b3 Bd7 10. 0–0 0–0–0 11. Nc3 h6 12. Na4 Qc7 13. Be3 Nf5 14. B×f5 e×f5 15. Qd4 Kb8 16. f4 Bc8 17. Nc5 Ka8 18. a4 Be7 19. b4 Rhe8 20. b5 Qb6 21. b×c6 B×c5 22. Q×c5 Q×c5 23. B×c5 Ba6 24. Rfd1 Rc8 25. R×d5 R×c6 26. Rd6 Bb7 27. R×c6 B×c6 28. Bd6 Kb7 29. h4 Rg8 30. Kf2 g5 31. f×g5 h×g5 32. h5 Rh8 33.  Rh1 B×a4 34.  h6 B×c2 35.  e6 f4 36.  Be5 Rh7 37. Bg7 a5 38. e7 Bg6 39. Rd1 1–0

164. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Odds match (3), December 1865 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 107); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 14–15; I.L.N., 13 January 1866; T.C.W., I (1865/6), pages 369–371. This game is even more problematic. While it is not obvious which is the more plausible version, this author prefers Löwenthal’s to Staunton’s because the former was much more active in chess at this time and so more likely to be correctly informed.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. e×d5 e×d5 4. Bd3 Nf6 5. Bg5 Be7 6. Nc3 Bg4 7. f3 Bh5 8. Qe2 0–0 9. 0–0–0 c6 10. Nh3 Bb4 11. Nf4 Re8 12. B×f6 Q×f6 13. N×h5 Qh6† 14. Qd2 Q×h5 15. h4 Nd7 16. Qg5 Q×g5† 17. h×g5 Nf8 18. Ne2 Re3 19. a3 Bd6 20. f4 Rae8 21. Kd2 b6 22. Rdf1 R3e7 23. f5 Rf7 24. g4 Be7 25. g6 (see diagram)

wDwDrhkD 0wDwgr0p w0pDwDPD DwDpDPDw wDw)wDPD )wDBDwDw w)PINDwD DwDwDRDR

After 25. g6

25. … h×g6 This is Löwenthal’s version. The two publications under Staunton’s control reversed two move pairs with 25. … Bg5† 26. Kd1 h×g6 27. f×g6 to reach the same position. 26. f×g6 Bg5† 27. Kd1 Rf6 28. Rf5 R×f5 29. g×f5 Nd7 30. b4 Nf6 Staunton’s version diverged again: 30. … Kf8 31. Rg1 Bh6 32. Rg2 Nf6 33. Ng1 Ke7 34. Nf3 Kd6 35. Ng5 B×g5 reaching the same position as in the other version but with one move less. 31. Rg1 Bh6 32. a4 Kf8 33. Rg2 Ke7 34. Ng1 Kd6 35. Nf3 Bf4 36. Ng5 B×g5 37. R×g5 c5 38. d×c5†

b×c5 39. b×c5† K×c5 40. Rg2 Kb4 41. Kd2 K×a4 42. Rg1 Re7 Staunton has a note here in T.C.W. but it is move 40 in his version. 43. Kc3 Rc7† 44. Kd4 Ka3 45. Ra1† Kb2 46. Ra6 Kc1 47. R×f6 g×f6 48. K×d5 a5 49. Kd6 Some databases have Ke6 here but it was clearly K–Q6 in C.P.M. and Kd6 in Bachmann. 49. … Rc8 50. Bb5 K×c2 51. Ke7 1–0 Following C.P.M., T.C.W. and Bachmann, but 51. Kd7 is the last move in Pickard (game 730).

165. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Odds match (4), December 1865 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 108); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 37–38.

1. d4 Nf6 2. Nc3 e6 3. e4 Bb4 4. Bg5 h6 5. B×f6 Q×f6 6. e5 Qf7 7. Bd3 0–0 8. Nf3 Nc6 9. 0–0 Be7 10. Ne4 b6 11. c3 Bb7 12. Bc2 Bd8 13. Qd3 g6 14. Rae1 Kg7 15. Ng3 Ne7 16. Nh5† Kh8 17. Nf6 Nf5 18. g4 B×f6 19. g×f5 g×f5 20. e×f6 Rg8† 21. Kh1 Qh5 22. Bd1 Rg4 23. Rg1 Rag8 24. c4 Be4 25. Qe3 R8g5 (see diagram) Black threatens mate starting 26. … Q×h2†. White could defend by 26. Rg3 but de Vere finds the best way of snuffing out the attack.

After 25. … R8g5

wDwDwDwi 0w0pDwDw w0wDp)w0 DwDwDp4q wDP)bDrD DwDw!NDw P)wDw)w) DwDB$w$K

26. Q×e4! f×e4 27. N×g5 R×g1† 28. R×g1 Qg6 29. f7 Qf6 30. Bh5 h×g5 31. R×g5 Q×g5 32. f8Q† Kh7 33. Qf7† Kh6 34. Bd1 Qd2 35. Qh5† Kg7 36. Qg4† Kf8 37. Kg2 Q×d4 38.  h4 Q×c4 39.  h5 Q×a2 40.  Qf4† Kg8 41.  Qg5† Kf7 42. Qg6† Ke7 43. Qg7† 1–0

166. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Odds match (5), December 1865 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 109); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 39–40.

1. e4 b6 2. d4 Bb7 3. Bd3 Nc6 4. d5 Ne5 5. f4 N×d3† 6. Q×d3 g6 7. Be3 Bg7 8. Bd4 Nf6 9. Nc3 0–0 10. B×f6 B×f6 11. e5 Bg7 12. Nge2 d6 13. e6 c6 14. 0–0 c×d5 15. N×d5 B×b2 16.  Rab1 Bg7 17.  Ng3 B×d5 18.  Q×d5 Qc7 19.  c4 Rac8 20. Rbc1 Qc5† 21. Kh1 Q×d5 22. c×d5 R×c1 23. R×c1 R×f4 24. Rc8† Bf8 25. h3 Rd4 26. Ra8 R×d5 27. R×a7 Re5 28. Ra6 R×e6 29. R×b6 Re1† 30. Kh2 Bg7 31. Rb3 Be5 32. h4 Ra1 33. a3 d5 34. Kh3 h5 0–1 This was the final move played according to Chess Player’s Magazine and Bachmann. Some databases have an input error, 34. … h6, here.

4. Quiet Years, 1864–1865

115

Boden reported as follows in The Field of 23 December (for which the deadline was probably the 21st): This contest creates an increasing interest as it progresses at the London Club; not exactly from its proving a “neck-and-neck” struggle, but from the young English player’s having exhibited a readiness, decision, and force, which his friends had hardly given him credit for previous to the match, and which have evidently taken his formidable opponent rather by surprise. The score now gives to Mr. Steinitz 2, to Mr. De Vere 3, without any draws. We may mention that the third and fourth games were won by Mr. De Vere in manner that elicited high praise, both from his antagonist and the numerous skilful onlookers….

From The Field of Saturday, 30 December we can tell that one further game was played before, as it said, the match was suspended for Christmas week. At the end of a tense struggle lasting nine hours, Steinitz squandered the opportunities which de Vere’s miscalculations at several points from the diagram onwards had offered him.

167. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Odds match (6), December 1865 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 110); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 40–43. Notes on the endgame by Tim Harding and Karsten Müller (originally for ChessBase Magazine).

1. e4 b6 2. d4 Bb7 3. Bd3 Nc6 4. Nf3 e6 5. 0–0 Nge7 6. Bg5 h6 7. Be3 g6 8. c3 Bg7 9. Nh4 0–0 10. e5 g5 11. Nf3 Nf5 12. Nbd2 g4 13. Ne1 Qh4 14. Be4 d5 15. B×f5 R×f5 16. f4 Ba6 17. g3 Qd8 18. Rf2 h5 19. Ng2 Ne7 20. Nh4 Rf7 21. h3 Nf5 22. N×f5 e×f5 23. h4 Bf8 24. Qc2 Qd7 25. a4 c5 26. Re1 Qc6 27. Nf1 Bc8 28. Rd2 Be6 29. Bf2 c4 30. b3 c×b3 31. Q×b3 Rc8 32. Rc1 Qc4 33. Qd1 Ba3 34. Ne3 Qa6 35. Rcc2 Rd7 36. Qa1 Bf8 37. Qa2 Qb7 38. Qb3 Rdc7 39. Rd1 Qc6 40. Rdc1 Qb7 41. Qb5 Kf7 42. Qd3 Kg6 43. Be1 Qc6 44. Qb5 Ba3 45. Ra1 Q×b5 46. a×b5 Be7 47. Rca2 Ra8 48. Kg2 Rd7 49. Bf2 Kf7 (see diagram)

rDwDwDwD 0wDrgkDw w0wDbDwD DPDp)pDp wDw)w)p) Dw)wHw)w RDwDwGKD $wDwDwDw

After 49. … Kf7

50. c4? De Vere has maintained his material advantage up to now, but, impatient to break through instead of nursing his advantage, he miscalculates and hands Steinitz a lifeline. White should win after 50. Be1 (Müller). 50. … d×c4 51. d5? B×d5† 52.  N×d5 R×d5 53.  R×a7 R×a7 54.  R×a7 R×b5 55. Rc7 Rb4 56. Rc6 De Vere presumably had thought he

Cecil de Vere proved too good for Steinitz to concede odds of pawn and move. (From A Century of British Chess.)

would win one of the queenside pawns after which his e-pawn would be strong, but his king and bishop are passive. 56. … Rb2?! Stockfish 10 suggests 56. … Bd8!, relieving the Black rook from the need to defend the b6-pawn, but Müller is of the opinion that White can probably defend in any case with 57.  Bd4, whereas 57.  e6†? Ke7 is less clear. 57. Kf1 b5 58. e6† Kg6 59. Bd4 Rd2 60. Be5 Rd8 61. Ke2 Ra8 62. Rc7!? “De Vere gives his opponent another chance but even this is playable,” says Müller. 62. … Bf6! 63. Rb7? 63. Rf7 B×e5 64. f×e5 was necessary and sufficient to draw. 63. … Ra2†? Steinitz stands better now, but misses the difficult forced win available by 63. … B×e5! 64. f×e5 c3, e.g., 65. R×b5 Rc8 66. Kd1 f4! 64. Kd1?? Here there was an input error by ChessBase who had 64. Ke1; the remaining moves were the same in their version. The objectively correct move was 64.  Ke3, with drawing chances. 64.  … B×e5 65. f×e5 Ra6? Instead 65. … f4! wins. 66. e7? Objectively speaking, White should take the draw by 66. R×b5 R×e6 67. Rc5= but de Vere gets lucky with this blunder. 66. … Re6?? A full point swing; 66. … Kf7 wins. 67. Rb6! Kf7 68. R×e6 1–0

116

Steinitz in London

The Field, 30 December 1865, said Steinitz’s final blunder “could only be accounted for by the exhausting effects of nine hours of previous hard play.”

168. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Odds match (7), December 1865 or January 1866 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 111); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 42–44.

1. e4 b6 2. d4 Bb7 3. Bd3 Nc6 4. Nf3 e6 5. 0–0 Nh6 6. Nc3 Nf7 7. Bf4 Be7 8. Bg3 0–0 9. a3 Rc8 10. d5 e×d5 11. e×d5 Nb8 12. Nb5 Na6 13. N×a7 Ra8 14. Nb5 Bf6 15. c3 Kh8 16. Bc2 Qe7 17. b4 d6 18. Qd3 g6 19. Rae1 Qd7 20. c4 Nb8 21. Re6 Nd8 22. R×f6 R×f6 23. Qc3 Kg7 24. Bh4 Qf7 25. Ng5 Qf8 26. N×c7 Kg8 27. N×a8 B×a8 28. N×h7 1–0

169. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Odds match (8), December 1865 or January 1866 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 112); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 44–45.

1. e4 d6 2. d4 Nf6 3. Nc3 Nc6 4. Bg5 e6 5. Nf3 h6 6. B×f6 Q×f6 7. Bd3 Bd7 8. a3 N×d4 9. N×d4 Q×d4 10. Qh5† Kd8 11. 0–0 Be7 12. Rad1 c6 13. Qe2 Kc7 14. Bc4 Qc5 15. Rd2 Rad8 16. b4 Qe5 17. Qe3 g5 18. Be2 Kb8 19. Rb1 h5 20. b5 c5 21. b6 a6 22. a4 Bc6 23. Bc4 h4 24. h3 g4 25. Qd3 d5 26. e×d5 e×d5 27. Re2 Qg5 28. B×d5 B×d5 29. N×d5 R×d5 30. Qe4 Bd8 31. h×g4 Rd4 32. Qe6 R×g4 33. Qd6† Ka8 34. f3 Rd4 0–1

170. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Odds match (9), January 1866? Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 113); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 45–47.

1. e4 d6 2. d4 Nf6 3. Nc3 Nc6 4. Bg5 e6 5. Nf3 h6 6. Bh4 g5 7. Bg3 Bg7 8. Bb5 0–0 9. 0–0 Nh7 10. h3 Kh8 11. B×c6 b×c6 12. e5 Qe7 13. Ne4 Rd8 14. Qe2 a5 15. Qe3 Nf8 16. Qa3 c5 17. e×d6 c×d6 18. d×c5 d×c5 19. Ne5 Rd5 20. Nd3 Ba6 21. Rfe1 B×d3 22. c×d3 Qb7 23. Rab1 Qb4 24. Re3 Nd7 25.  Nd6 Q×a3 26.  b×a3 e5 27.  Nc4 a4 28.  Nb6 Rb8 29. N×d5 R×b1† 30. Kh2 Rd1 31. Ne7 Rd2 32. Ng6† Kh7 33. N×e5 N×e5 34. B×e5 R×a2 35. B×g7 K×g7 36. Re5 R×a3 37. R×c5 R×d3 38. Rc6 a3 39. Ra6 h5 40. g3 Kf7 41. Kg2 Ke7 42. h4 g×h4 43. g×h4 Kf7 44. f3 Rd2† 45. Kg3 a2 46. Kf4 Rg2 47. Kf5 Rb2 48. Ra7† Kf8 49. f4 Rg2 50. Kf6 Kg8 51. f5 Kh8 52. Ra8† Kh7 53. Ra7† Kh8 54. Ke6 Kg8 55. f6 Re2† 56. Kf5 Rg2 ½–½

171. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Odds match (10), January 1866? Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 114); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 47–48, saying at the end: “We cannot understand why White consented to draw the game, since to us he appears to have obtained an easy winning situation.”

1. e4 d6 2. d4 Nf6 3. Nc3 Nc6 4. d5 Ne5 5. f4 Nf7 6. Nf3 e5 7. d×e6 B×e6 8. f5 Bd7 9. Bc4 Qe7 10. 0–0 0–0–0 11. Bg5 c6 12. Qd4 b6 13. a4 Kb8 14. B×f7 Q×f7 15. a5 b5 16. e5 d×e5 17. N×e5 Qe7 18. Be3 Be8 19. Qf4 Qc7 20. Rfe1 Bd6 21. Bf2 Bh5 22. Qe3 B×e5 23. Q×e5 Q×e5 24. R×e5 Ng4 ½–½

172. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Odds match (11), January 1866? Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 115); The Era, 18 March 1866; C.P.M., ns 2 (March 1866), page 71.

1. e4 d6 2. d4 Nf6 3. Nc3 e6 Löwenthal blamed this move for the cramped position Black obtains. In other games Steinitz tried 3. … Nc6 instead. 4. Bd3 Nc6 5. Nf3 Be7 6. Ne2 0–0 7. c3 Qe8 8. Ng3 e5 9. d5 Nd8 10. h3 Nf7 11. Be3 Nh8 12.  Qb3 Ng6 13.  0–0–0 a5 14.  Nf5 Bd8 14.  … a4 was a Löwenthal suggestion in The Era. 15. g4 Ne7 Löwenthal criticized the waste of time with this knight. 16. Rdg1 Kh8 17. Ng5 g6 The Era: “Very injudicious, driving the Knight into a still stronger position.” 18. Nh6 Nfg8 19. Bb5! c6 20. d×c6 b×c6 21. Nhf7† Kg7 22. N×d6 Qd7 23. N×c8 Q×c8 24. Ne6† Kf7 25. N×d8† Ke8 26. Ne6 1–0 The I.L.N. of 13 January 1866 gave the score as de Vere 6 Steinitz 3 drawn 2, but the match had just ended with the following game.

173. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Odds match (12), 10 January 1866 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 116); The Era, 18 March 1866; I.L.N. 24 March 1866; C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 72–73 and N.B.S.Z., III (1866), page 110, crediting C.P.M.

1.  e4 d6 2.  d4 Nf6 3.  Nc3 e6 4.  Nf3 Nc6 5.  Bb5 a6 6. B×c6† b×c6 7. 0–0 Be7 8. Qd3 0–0 9. Ne2 a5 10. Ng3 Ba6 11. c4 d5 12. b3 c5 13. e×d5 13. Ng5 “leads to some interesting positions” said the C.P.M. but no doubt de Vere wished to keep control of the center and prepare the coming attack. 13. … e×d5 14. Qe3 d×c4 A pawn down, Steinitz has to complicate the situation and hope to regain his material. 15. Nf5! C.P.M.: “The key move of a fine combination” 15. … Rf7 16. Re1 16. Ne5 was probably even stronger. 16. … Nd5 17. Qe6 Bf6 Steinitz finds the best try. 18. Ne5 B×e5 19. R×e5 (see diagram) 19. … Nb4!? Here Black might have tried 19. … Bc8! It is easy to overlook or underestimate a retreat move. Then 20. Q×d5 Q×d5 21. Nh6† g×h6 22. R×d5 c×d4 23. b×c4 Rd7 would set White a much harder task to exploit his advantage, thanks to the opposite colored bishops. 20. Nh6†! Steinitz perhaps expected 20. Ne7† Q×e7 21. Q×e7 R×e7 22. R×e7 Nc2 23. Rb1 N×d4 although after 24. Bd2 White should eventually win, for after 24. … c3 25. B×c3 Ne2† 26. R×e2 B×e2

4. Quiet Years, 1864–1865

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The February number of the Chess Player’s Magazine published the date of the match’s conclusion, saying it “was brought to a termination” on Wednesday 10th by de Vere’s winning his seventh game: After 19. R×e5

27. Re1 Black faces a dilemma; he must either give up the apawn by 27. … Re8 or allow the White rook into e7. 20. … g×h6 21. B×h6 Qf6 Here Black has the superficially attractive 21. … Q×d4 but after 22. Rae1 Q×f2† 23. Kh1 there is nothing better than 23. … Kh8 (23. … Nd3 24. Qg4† mates in four.) 24. Qe8† Rf8 25. B×f8 R×e8 26. R×e8 when Black must return the queen with interest. 22. Rg5† Q×g5 23. B×g5 The Era stopped here saying that “after a few more moves Black resigned the game and the match. This brief game is admirably played by Mr. De Vere, and forms a fitting termination to a very interesting contest.” Neumann’s book Das Schachspiel und seine Abarten (page 97) and ChessBase also stop here, but the I.L.N. of 24 March 1866 had the continuation: 23. … c×d4 24. b×c4 24. Bh6 is even stronger but Black is also helpless after the text move. 24. … c5 25. a3 Bc8 26. Qe5 Rf5 27. Qe8† Rf8 28. Qe4 and Black resigns (1–0).

This brief game is admirably played by Mr. De Vere, and forms a fitting termination to a very interesting contest. In looking over these games we have been especially struck with the originality and inventive power displayed by the winner, and we predict for him a high place among the very best English players.25

Staunton was always happy to see English players defeat foreigners, even though he had not yet fallen out personally with Steinitz. After the match, he rejected the “absurd report” that Steinitz had challenged Anderssen, but it was Staunton who would be proved wrong in the end: This little affair has terminated, much to the astonishment of the German player’s friends, in an easy victory to our young countryman, the score at the end showing De Vere to have won 7 games, Steinitz 3, Drawn 2. We have not examined many of the games, but some who have say that Mr. Steinitz must have greatly mistaken his powers, or must have been very injudiciously advised when he undertook the task of giving odds to a player of Mr. De Vere’s capabilities. From what we have seen of the play we agree with them; but the error committed by Mr. Steinitz in consenting to this match, is as nothing compared to that which he is rumoured to have in contemplation, to wit, the challenging of Mr. Anderssen to a contest, on even terms, for £100 a side! We suspect, however, and hope, that this absurd report will prove to be an idle hoax.26

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 Although the year began unpromisingly with the match defeat by de Vere, that could be brushed off as an uneven contest where Steinitz had handicapped himself, 1866 would soon turn out to be one of his most successful years, not to be equaled or surpassed until 1872 and 1873. An amusing incident occurred early in 1866 when Boden reported some hearsay about Howard Staunton in his column for The Field and had to publish a reply from him on the 3rd of February: SIR.—An extract from your chess column of the 27th inst. has been shown to me, in which, to my surprise, I am reported to have said that were La Bourdonnais alive he would give the odds of a Knight to Mr. Steinitz. The report is an untruth….

There are only a few known games by Steinitz in the early months of the year. Then things got busy. Two significant (and connected) events in London chess life in 1866 affected Steinitz greatly. Firstly, the long-heralded changes at Simpson’s took effect in July, and many of the regular denizens of the Divan found the new arrangements for chess unsatisfactory. Secondly, in reaction to that, a chess club was established nearby to provide a new home for many of its regulars, Steinitz included. In later years, MacDonnell confirmed that the impetus for the formation of the club came from the alterations at the Divan:

The Divan Transformed The story of the early years of the Divan up to the death of Simpson in 1859 and Cathie’s takeover around 1862 was told in Chapter 3. It then took Cathie three or four years to make his plans before, early in 1865, he started to raise the necessary finance to transform Simpson’s restaurant and, in effect, downgrade the Divan which had been for at least 30 years the principal public resort where chess was played in England. Nevertheless it must have taken more than a year to raise the capital before the changes commenced. Announcements and advertisements in the press help to give a sense of the project and its appeal to investors. On 29 January 1865 the following was published in The Era, under the heading “Simpson’s Divan Tavern.” Cathie was named as the third man to have “realised a fortune on the premises,” his predecessors presumably being Samuel Ries and Simpson.

… when the chess players were relegated to a higher region and less commodious room. In consequence of this change most of the leading frequenters abandoned Simpson’s altogether and formed the Westminster Club, which at once attracted and for six years retained the largest company of distinguished chess-players ever enrolled in any society.1

Negotiations for Steinitz’s match with Anderssen took place over several months in the first half of 1866, and were also connected with plans to revive the B.C.A. by instituting a championship tournament. Steinitz, as a foreigner, was ineligible for that, but he was involved in associated events. By the end of the year, he was clearly established as the strongest player in England, and probably in Europe. This was also the year when Steinitz became a father for the first time.

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Of all the commercial speculations of the day the above is probably the most intelligible, as it is certainly the most promising in its results. West of Temple–bar there is no place of business better known, both to the man in search of a good dinner and a superior cigar than the establishment so long popular as Simpson’s Divan Tavern, a house where, having dined on the best of every seasonable viand, you can adjourn to the Divan, one of the finest rooms in London, enjoy your cup of coffee and cigar, and spend as long a time as you please in the perusal of the magazines and papers, or enter into friendly rivalry in a game at chess. The business attached to these premises has of late, since the opening of the Charing-cross Railway Station, increased to such an extent that further accommodation has become imperatively necessary. To effect the changes requisite a Company has been formed to purchase the double establishment of the Tavern and Cigar Divan and two adjoining houses, with the goodwill, fixtures, stock, and everything appertaining to both. The present proprietor (Mr. E. W. Cathie), the third who in a few years has realised a fortune on the premises, will undertake the management for two years, and then retires. The capital required to effect the purchase, and carry out the extensive and magnificent alterations contemplated, is £100,000, to be raised in 5,000 shares of £20 each; with £1 deposit, £2 allotment, and the calls not to exceed £3 per share, or to be oftener than every two months. The names of the Directors themselves are a sufficient guarantee of the integrity and promise of the speculation, which is so highly considered that above one-half of the shares have been already disposed

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 of, before a single advertisement has appeared. A more eligible investment for capital it would be difficult to find, the minimum of interest being placed at fifteen per cent. For more minute particulars we refer the reader to the prospectus.

The Era had more about it on the 12th of February. Meanwhile, on page two of the Morning Post, 4 February 1865 (and several other newspapers the same day, and subsequently) it was said that Simpson’s was the name of a new limited liability company formed under the Companies Act 1862. On the same day an advertisement in the London City Press named the six directors; Ries and Cathie were not among them. “The Tavern, so successfully carried on by the late Mr. Simpson and his partners, who retired after a few years with large fortunes, needs no commendation….” Further on it said that “The Divan, Cigar, and Chess Rooms have for many years been successfully carried on by Mr. Samuel Ries, who has realized a large fortune in that business, now one of the most important and lucrative in the metropolis.” Again, “Mr. Cathie’s services as Manager have been secured to the Company for two years.” From the newspapers, it would appear that the directors and some other initial investors (probably including Ries and Cathie) had put up about half the money and the rest was to be raised by what would nowadays be called a public flotation. About £65,000 of the capital was needed to buy out (in installments) the existing business and leases to two more houses to the rear of the tavern, which would enable the enlargement of the premises. The company would take possession of the property when the first installment was paid, which probably was not until mid–1866. What Staunton wrote in his magazine The Chess World in the spring of 1865 appears to have been in response to the company’s prospectus and advertisements, and gossip in the chess community: The noble room so long known as the Grand Cigar Divan, in the Strand, is about to be transformed … into a dining saloon, and its frequenters, who comprise all the Chess notabilities of the world, relegated to an apartment at present in nubibus.2

It is unclear when the original Divan closed, rendering its chess-players “homeless,” but the re-opening appears to have taken place around the middle of July 1866. A lengthy article, too long to quote in full, appeared in The Era on 15 July. One extracts the points which best describe the building as it was, and as it became, and the details most relevant to chess: New Dining Room and Alterations at Simpson’s Divan, Strand (Limited). Simpson’s Dining Rooms, in the Strand, consisted, some little time past, of a large room on the ground floor, together with a ladies room on the first floor. Adjoining this establishment was to be found the Divan Chess Rooms, Wine and Smoking Room, the world-known rendezvous of all renowned champions of the Chess- board. These two establishments, independent of the insufficient accommodation they afforded; were ill-contrived; in fact, were the result of the growth of a business, where, as they increase, fresh accommodation has to be provided.

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As is generally known, these establishments were formed into a joint-stock company, under the designation of “Simpson’s Limited.” These properties, being under the management of the Directors, led them seriously to consider if it were not possible to increase the much-needed accommodation, improve the approaches and general working of the establishment, and, above all, providing dining rooms which should possess permanent and efficient ventilation. Plans were consequently prepared, embodying the views of the Directors…. The result is that Simpson’s Dining Rooms have undergone a complete transformation. Instead of the little narrow entrance there is now a noble Doric portico, sixteen feet wide which affords shelter to persons entering or leaving the establishment. Through ornamental mahogany swing doors access is given to the lobby, also sixteen feet in width, from which all other parts of the ground-floor are reached. Facing the visitor is a flight of stairs, eleven feet six inches wide, leading to the ground-floor dining room, on the same level as the Manager’s room and the bar. On the lower level are found every convenience that the visitor may require. From the lobby access is given to the cigar shop and secondary staircase leading to the Divan Smoking Room. The works on the ground floor dining room are not yet completed…. Ascending a noble looking staircase, six feet wide, leading to the dining rooms on the first floor, on the left is found the room ultimately to be used as the ladies’ and gentlemen’s dining room, and which may be qualified as one of the best proportioned rooms in London. It is forty-four feet long, twenty-nine wide, and twenty-seven high, and in which the persons instructed to provide for the convenience and comfort of visitors have certainly done all that modern experience could dictate. The room is adorned with imposing looking-glasses, the intermediate panels contain artistically-painted subjects of game, fruit, and flowers, and the ceiling is chastely decorated. On the second floor, and overlooking the Strand, is the New Divan Chess Room, thirty-four feet long, sixteen wide, and eighteen feet high, to which is annexed another small room. Here a not unsuccessful attempt has been made at architectural pretensions; the columns, pilasters, and cornice are of the Doric order. Over the cornice is a cove ceiling, the flat portion in the centre being perforated to allow the smoke and heat to escape into a chamber between the ceiling and floor above from whence it is taken up by four large flues. Should the updraught not be sufficient, as it sometimes occurs in the foggy and damp days, the current is increased by burning small jets of gas in each of the flues…. Mr. E.W.V. Cathie, late the Proprietor of the Divan, is retained as Manager, and this fact alone proclaims the wish of the Directors to meet the desires of the very numerous frequenters of the Dining and Smoking Rooms. It is quite certain the “old customers” are rejoiced to meet with Mr. Cathie as in times gone by, and it is equally clear that all who may visit “Simpson’s” for the first time will, in one way or other, be indebted to the tact and skill in ordering things pleasantly possessed by this gentleman. The great prosperity of the Company is a recognised fact, which we can but confidently believe will long continue.

From this report it appears that the new management made haste to reopen the Divan as quickly as possible, before the works on the ground floor restaurant and first floor dining room were yet complete. It also confirms in detail the greatly diminished space for the players, as complained of in some chess sources. They had lost what was described above as “one of the best proportioned rooms in London” (of 1276 square foot with a high ceiling), now converted to

120

Steinitz in London

a dining room, and they now had to ascend another staircase to a much smaller room (544 square foot with a lower ceiling) where ventilation was admittedly problematic, especially considering the large numbers of cigars they smoked. No wonder that Walker was to write, a few years later, that the Divan was “once a good and well-ventilated room. It is now a dog-hole and nothing better.”3

From Early 1866 to the B.C.A. Congress 174. F. Burden–Steinitz Casual game, London, 1866 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 132); The Field, 21 April 1866.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. Nc3 Na5 10. Bd3 Ne7 11. Bg5 f6 12. Bh4 Ng6 13. e5 N×h4 14. N×h4 g6 15. e×f6 Q×f6 16. Re1† Kd8 17. Nf3 Bg4 18. Ne4 B×f3 19. g×f3 Q×d4 20. Ng5 Kd7 21. Re4 Q×f2† 22. Kh1 Raf8 23. Qa4† Kc8 24. Rae1 Nc6 25. Ba6 Ne5 26. R×e5 d×e5 27. Qe4 Q×e1† 28.  Q×e1 b×a6 29.  Q×e5 “and the game was drawn by mutual consent” (½–½).

After 23. … R×d8

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tually. 25. … Ba6† 26. Kg1 Rd2 27. Qc1 Nd4 28. Bg4 Ne2† 29. B×e2 B×e2 30. h4 Rd1† 31. Kh2 R×c1 32. R×c1 Bf6 0–1

176. Steinitz–V. Green Casual game, London Chess Club, June 1866 Sicilian Defense (B45) Bachmann (game 133) says this was played on 17 June 1866 but that was the date of the original publication in The Era. It only said “Green” but Steinitz would have given odds to S. J. Green whereas he played level against Valentine Green.

1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 e6 4. d4 c×d4 5. N×d4 Bc5 6.  Ndb5 Qb6 7.  Nd6† Kf8 8.  Bc4 B×f2† 9.  Ke2 Nd4† 10. K×f2 Nf5† 11. Ke2 N×d6 12. Be3 Qc7 13. Bb3 b6 14. Bf4 Ba6† 15. Ke1 Ke7 16. Qd2 Qc6 17. Nd5† e×d5 18. B×d5 N×e4 19. Qb4† 1–0

175. J. I. Minchin–Steinitz Simpson’s Divan, 1866 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 131); notes by Löwenthal in C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 216–217: “The following casual game was recently played at the Divan in the Strand by Mr. Minchin against Herr Steinitz.” Also in N.B.S.Z., III (1866), page 351.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. d4 e×d4 7. c×d4 Bb4† 8. Kf1 Qe7 C.P.M.: “Mr. Steinitz is of opinion that this is the best defence Black can adopt at this point, as it not only brings the Queen into play, but also provides for the safety of the King’s Bishop.” 9. e5 f6 10. e×f6 N.B.S.Z.: “White has stronger moves, namely immediately 10. a3 Ba5 11. Ra2.” 10. … N×f6 11. Bg5 b6 12. a3 Bd6 13. Ra2 Qf8 14. Re2† Be7 15. Nc3 Bb7 16. Ne5 0–0–0 C.P.M.: “Mr. Steinitz willingly gives up the exchange to free his game.” N.B.S.Z.: “Instead of this, Black must capture the Knight.” 17. Nf7 d5 18. N×d8 Q×d8 19. B×f6 B×f6 20. B×d5 B×d4 21. Rd2 B×c3 22. Be6† Kb8 23. R×d8† R×d8 (see diagram) 24. Qa4? 24. Qb3 was correct; C.P.M. gave 24. … Ba6† but overlooked the simple reply 25. Bc4. N.B.S.Z. suggested 24. Qg4 but engines quickly find 24. … Nd4. 24. … Rd4?! Objectively Black’s best move was 24. … Nd4, threatening to win the queen, when White must find 25. Bc4 to draw. 25. Qc2?? 25. Qb3 defends, with chances of winning even-

British Chess Association 1866 Congress The B.C.A., although nominally in existence, had been virtually inactive since the 1862 Congress, except for the controversial judging of the Problem Composing Tourney associated with that event, and the consequent late publication of the tournament book which had finally appeared in 1864. A general meeting was held at the St. George’s Chess Club on 6 March 1866 “for the purpose of receiving the Report of the Managing Committee as to the steps to be taken to place the Association on a permanent basis….” Steinitz was not present. There had been no general meeting since 17 July 1862 (about which the Congress book is silent), but it was resolved to hold them annually in the future and to hold a Congress every second year, starting with one to begin in mid–June 1866.4 Löwenthal was reappointed manager, Medley was confirmed as honorary secretary, with Lord Lyttelton remaining as figurehead president. Staunton, however, was hostile to the B.C.A. and was supported in this by some of his cronies. The February 1866 number of The Chess World included a letter from “Alpha” (Silas Angas of Newcastle) about the “Pseudo-Management of the British Chess Association” which especially attacked Medley.

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 Towards the end of March a new initiative was announced, albeit it turned not to be well publicized or well supported, to offer a gold cup worth £50 to be played for bi-annually, but by British players only. An unfortunate decision was the rule that if somebody won it twice the Cup would become their property; three times would have been better because the Cup was won outright after only four of these competitions were held. The Congress of 1866 was on a much smaller scale than those of 1862, 1868 and 1872, but more successful than that of 1870 which almost passed without notice. The program of events was announced in the Chess Player’s Magazine (from page 198) and in some newspapers. A preliminary meeting was held at the St. George’s Club on Tuesday, 19 June, which was the closing date for entries. Steinitz, as a foreigner, was ineligible to compete in the main tournament for the Challenge Cup but he entered the Handicap tournament (first prize £20). As usual with such events, this was a knock-out tournament based on mini-matches. Any tie would be won by the first player to score two games, draws not counting. In the first round of the Handicap, Steinitz was drawn against de Vere. Both being in the first class, they played on level terms, alternating the first move. Steinitz was also involved in two consultation games for which he presumably received some payment. We may assume that de Vere tended to give priority to his more important games in the Challenge Cup tournament. Due to the small number of entries, he required three wins against each of the other players (Minchin, Bird, and MacDonnell), which he achieved. Trelawny withdrew before de Vere could meet him, while Burden (who also initially entered) was “called to Ireland, and was consequently obliged to enter his resignation.”5 This means de Vere completed nine games by the middle of July, of which six would have been played after 23 June, and he probably played Steinitz only when one of the Challenge Cup opponents was unavailable. A slim book was eventually produced in 1868 entitled The Transactions of the B.C.A. for 1866 and 1867 (hereafter cited as Transactions 66/67). This included some business matters and reports on the tournaments of 1866 (London) and 1867 (Dundee) and Steinitz’s match with Anderssen. Play commenced on Wednesday, 20 June at the London and the St. George’s Clubs and the Divan, which is an indication that the latter remained open while the new premises upstairs were being prepared. As in 1862, the St. James’ Hall, Piccadilly, was booked for some public events, but only for three days: Friday and Saturday, 22–23 June and Monday, 25 June. The chronological sequence of the early games, so far as can be ascertained, was as follows: 20 June: Games included a de Vere–Steinitz draw (Game 179 below) and Trelawny–Minchin in the Challenge Cup (recently found by Hübner).6

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21 June: Games included E. Burne–J. I. Minchin from the Handicap tournament (found by Hübner). C.P.M. (page 201) shows that Minchin also won his second game with Sir John Trelawny. 22 and 23 June (St. James’s Hall): First consultation game involving Steinitz (Game 177 below), played in two sessions. Games on the 22nd included a de Vere win against MacDonnell in the Challenge Cup. Also, in the Handicap, Augustus Mongredien, Jr., won two games to Trelawny’s one and there was a draw between H. Mann and Mocatta. There would have been no play on 24 June, which was a Sunday. 25 June (St. James’s Hall): Second consultation game involving Steinitz (Game 178 below). Another consultation game, played at the same time, was published for the first time by Hübner in Caissa 2/2018. C.P.M. said it was between Stewart, Sich, Franklyn [sic], and Thompson against the Rev. William Wayte, Herr Meyer, Young, and “an amateur,” who was named as Minchin (probably J.I.) in Hübner’s source. C.P.M. says the game was agreed drawn “at a late hour,” while the manuscript says it was left unfinished after 24 moves in what Hübner assessed as a winning position for Black. He says it is unclear from the manuscript which team played White but since C.P.M. names Stewart first this is a fair indication that it was his side. 27? June: Games included the second G. Barber–S. J. Green game from the first round of the Handicap tournament (found by Hübner).7 28? June: Steinitz won game 2 in his Handicap tournament mini-match with de Vere (Game 180); the result was reported in The Era of 1 July. Also played that day was a second game Burne–Minchin that Hübner has found. C.P.M. also lists on pages 201–202 some further results that must have come to hand before the deadline for its July number, but they cannot be precisely dated. July: Steinitz drew game 3 and won game 4 in his Handicap tournament mini-match with de Vere (Games 181 and 182). Transactions 66/67, page 6, does not mention draws and incorrectly credits de Vere with one win. However, further on, it published all four games. The B.C.A. held a dinner on 12 July at Willis’s Rooms; Steinitz was one of those who attended. The pairings for round two of the Handicap were published in The Era on 15 July but some round 1 matches were not yet complete; it said de Vere or Steinitz would play MacDonnell or Thorold. As it turned out, Steinitz met MacDonnell, also on level terms, but before the match with Anderssen commenced on 18 July they had only played one game, which The Era of 22 July reported had been won by Steinitz. His remaining games in the Handicap tournament, which he ultimately won, were only played in August after the Anderssen match was over, but for convenience they are grouped here before the games of the match.

122

Steinitz in London

177. Steinitz, G. W. Medley and T. I. Hampton– J. J. Löwenthal, Capt. H. A. Kennedy and the Rev. C. E. Ranken Consultation game, St. James’s Hall, 22–23 June 1866 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Bachmann (game 119); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 208–210; B.L.L, 1 December 1866; Transactions 66/67, pages 59– 60; reprinted much later in the Glowworm and Evening News, 9 February 1869. C.P.M. printed the initials of the Hampton involved as “T. J.” (presumably Thomas Hampton not his brother William J. Hampton). C.P.M., page 201, also said (not specifying the position) that when the game was adjourned on Friday evening Black seemed to have the advantage but on resumption “a hasty move gave White such an advantage as to render Black’s chance almost hopeless. By a skillfully-planned manoeuvre, however, Black not only succeeded in retrieving their position, but the game was eventually drawn.” Their notes to the game said Black should have played 40. … Re8 but the real error was move 37. There was no need to sacrifice the exchange and earlier the “hasty move” was 29. … Q×h2. The ending was misplayed on both sides; White should probably have won had they chosen 63. b×a5.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6 4. Bc4 Nf6 5. d3 Nc6 6. c3 Bb6 7. Qe2 Bg4 8. Na3 e×f4 9. B×f4 Nh5 10. Bd2 Ne5 11. 0–0–0 Qf6 12. Rhf1 B×f3 13. g×f3 Nf4 14. B×f4 Q×f4† 15.  Kb1 0–0–0 16.  Bb3 Rhe8 17.  d4 Ng6 18.  Qg2 Kb8 19. Qg3 Re7 20. Nc2 c6 21. Nb4 Bc7 22. Nd3 Qh6 23. Rde1 Rde8 24. Bc2 f6 25. Re2 d5 26. Qg2 Nh4 27. Qh1 Qh5 28. Nc1 Ng6 29. Ree1 Q×h2?! 30. Q×h2 B×h2 31. Rh1 Bf4 32. R×h7 Bh6 33. Ne2 Nh4 34. Rf1 Nf5 35. Bd3 Nd6 36. Ng3 d×e4 37. f×e4 N×e4? 38. N×e4 R×e4 39. B×e4 R×e4 40. Rf2 Kc8 41. Kc2 Kd8 42. Kd3 Re8 43. Re2 Rf8 44. Ke4 Ke7 45. Kf5† Kf7 46. Re6 Bg5 47. d5 c×d5 48. Rd6 Ke7 49. R×d5 Bh6 50. c4 Rc8 51. c5 a5 52. b3 Rc7 53. Rh8 Be3 54. c6 R×c6 55. R×a5 Kf7 56. Rb8 Rc7 57. Rb5 b6 58. a4 Re7 59. b4 g6† 60. Kg4 f5† 61. Kf3 Re6 62. a5 b×a5 63. R×a5? Bd4 64. b5 Re3† 65. Kg2 f4 66. Ra6 Rg3† 67. Kh2 Kg7 68. b6 Bg1† 69. Kh1 f3 70. b7 Bd4 71. Rg8† Kh7 72. Rh8† B×h8 73. b8Q Rh3† 74. Qh2 R×h2† 75. K×h2 Be5† 76. Kh3 g5 77. Ra3 f2 78. Kg2 ½–½

178. Steinitz, G. W. Medley, the Rev. C. E. Ranken and R. T. Forster–J. J. Löwenthal, C. V. de Vere, Capt. H. A. Kennedy and T. Hewitt Consultation game, London, 25 June 1866 Falkbeer Counter-Gambit (C31) Bachmann (game 118); Transactions 66/67, page 58. Bachmann says incorrectly that the game was played on 20 June. C.P.M. says both the consultation games played at the St. James’s Hall on Monday 25th (the other involving only amateur players) “were continued to a late hour, and

were then abandoned as drawn.” Sources differ on who exactly was involved so there may have been substitutions and one or two players may have left early. C.P.M. said the fourth player on Steinitz’s team was “Balaieff ” (i.e., Belayev), but the Transactions 66/67 say it was Forster. That book names Captain Kennedy on the opposing team but C.P.M. only named the other three men.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 d5 3. e×d5 e4 4. Nc3 Nf6 5. Qe2 A novelty which Steinitz repeated in several later games. 5. … Be7 6. N×e4 N×d5 7. d3 0–0 8. Bd2 f5 9. Nc3 Bh4† 10. Kd1 Nc6 11. g3 Bf6 12. Bg2 Ndb4 13. Nf3 Re8 14. Qf2 Nd4 15. Rc1 Be6 16. N×d4 B×d4 17. Qf3 c6 18. Re1 Qd6 19. a3 Nd5 20. R×e6 Q×e6 21. N×d5 c×d5 22. c3 Bf6 23. Q×d5 Rad8 24. Q×e6† R×e6 25. d4 b5 ½–½

179. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (1.1), 20–21 June 1866 Ruy Lopez (C67) Bachmann (game 122); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 244–246; Transactions 66/67, pages 38–39.

C.P.M., pages 200–201, also says the Handicap tournament began on Wednesday, 20 June at the London and St. George’s Chess Clubs; it can be assumed Steinitz played his games at the London Chess Club. “The result of Wednesday and Thursday’s play was: De Vere v. Steinitz, Drawn game….” It is not clear whether this game was finished in one session or not but the rules specified no adjournments. 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 N×e4 5. Re1 Nd6 6. B×c6 d×c6 7. N×e5 Be7 8. d3 0–0 9. Nc3 Nf5 10. Nf3 Be6 11. Bf4 Bd6 12. Qd2 Qf6 13. B×d6 c×d6 14. Qf4 d5 15. g4 Nh6 16. Q×f6 g×f6 17. h3 Rfe8 18. Ne2 Bd7 19. Nf4 Kf8 20. Kf1 Ng8 21. Nh5 Re6 22. Nd4 Rd6 23. f4 c5 24. Nf3 a5 25. Rad1 a4 26. f5 a3 27. b3 Ne7 28. c4 Nc6 29. Nf4 Nb4 30. Rd2 d×c4 31. b×c4 Bc6 32. Kf2 Rad8 33. Red1 Ba4 34. Rc1 N×d3† 35. N×d3 R×d3 36. R×d3 R×d3 37. Ke2 Rd6 38. Rc3 Bd1† 39. Kf2 B×f3 40. K×f3 Rd4 41. R×a3 R×c4 42.  Rb3 Ra4 43.  R×b7 R×a2 44.  Rc7 Rc2 45.  Ke4 Kg7 46. Kd5 Rc3 47. R×c5 R×h3 48. Ke4 h5 49. g×h5 R×h5 50. Rc6 ½–½ The exact date that Steinitz and de Vere finished is uncertain but the July C.P.M. mentions also that de Vere had won two games of Minchin in the Challenge Cup and lost the second game to Steinitz in the Handicap, so we may suppose those games were played between the 26th and 29th of June before the magazine to press. The third and fourth games probably followed soon afterwards.

180. Steinitz–C. V. de Vere B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (1.2), June 1866 French Defense (C01) Bachmann (game 121); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), page 247; Trans-

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 actions 66/67, page 40; Bird, Chess Masterpieces (game 137), pages 122–123. Also annotated by Hübner in Caissa 2/2018, pages 53–54, who observed: “Like many players of his day, De Vere usually played very weakly if he was forced on the defensive.”

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e×d5 e×d5 5. Nf3 Nf6 6. Bd3 Nc6 7. 0–0 0–0 8. Ne2 Ne7 9. Ne5 Ng6 10. f4 Ne4?! 11. c3 Ba5 12. B×e4 d×e4 13. Ng3 N×e5? 14. f×e5 Bb6 15. Be3 f5 16.  e×f6 R×f6 17.  Qh5 g6? 18.  Qh6 Bf5 19.  Bg5 Qf8 20. Qh4 Re6 21. R×f5 g×f5 22. Rf1 e3 23. R×f5 Qd6 24. Bf6 1–0

123

1. e4 g6 2. d4 Bg7 3. Nf3 b6 4. Bd3 e6 5. Nc3 Bb7 6. Be3 d6 7. Qd2 Nd7 8. 0–0–0 Ne7 9. h4 h5 10. Ng5 e5 11. Bc4 0–0 12. g4 e×d4 13. B×d4 B×d4 14. Q×d4 Ne5 15. Be2 h×g4 16.  h5 Nd5 17.  e×d5 Q×g5† 18.  Kb1 Rae8 19.  Rdg1 c5 20. Qa4 Qf5 21. Q×a7 B×d5 22. N×d5 Nc6 23. Qa4 Q×d5 24. h×g6 Re4 25. g×f7† K×f7 26. Qa6 Nb4 27. Qa7† Ke6 28. Bb5 Rf7 29. Rh6† Ke5 30. Rh5† Ke6 31. R×d5 R×a7 32. Rd2 c4 33. Rgd1 d5 34. a3 Ra5 35. a×b4 R×b5 36. c3 Ke5 37. Ka2 Kf4 38. Rd4 Kf3 39. Ka3 1–0

183. The Rev. G. A. MacDonnell–Steinitz

B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (1.3), June or July 1866 Ruy Lopez (C66) Bachmann (game 120); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 248–250. Transactions 66/67, pages 40–42. Bachmann does not have the games in the correct order. This game is also in Bird’s Chess Masterpieces (game 139, pages 122–124) but wrongly attributed to the “Dundee meeting.”

B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (2.1), mid–July 1866 Philidor Defense (C41) Bachmann (game 125). Transactions 66/67, pages 46–47, said this was the first game and the timetable discussed above shows it must have been played on or about 15 July. C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 339–340 had a favorable comment (page 339) on Steinitz’s wins against MacDonnell and (in the next round) Mocatta. C.P.M. did not publish the second game until the following year!

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 Be7 5. Nc3 d6 6. d4 e×d4 7. N×d4 Bd7 8. N×c6 b×c6 9. Ba4 0–0 10. f4 d5 11. e5 Bc5† 12. Kh1 Ng4 13. Qe1 Some databases mistakenly have 13. Qe2. 13. … Nh6 14. Be3 Bb6 15. Rd1 Qe7 16. B×b6 a×b6 17. Bb3 Rae8 18. Qd2 f6 19. e×f6 Q×f6 20. g3 Bh3 21. Rfe1 Qg6 22. R×e8 R×e8 23. Re1 Ng4 24. R×e8† Q×e8 25. Qe2 Qg6 26. Kg1 Kf8 27. Nd1 Qd6 28. Nf2 N×f2 29. K×f2 Qc5† 30. Qe3 d4 31. Qe5 Q×e5 32. f×e5 (see diagram)

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 d6 3. d4 e×d4 4. Bc4 Nf6 5. 0–0 Be7 6. Bg5 c5 7. c3 d×c3 8. N×c3 0–0 9. Qe2 Nc6 10. h3 Be6 11. Bd3 a6 12. Rad1 Qc7 13. B×f6 B×f6 14. Nd5 Qd8 15. Bb1 Bd4 16. g4 h5 17. N×d4 N×d4 18. R×d4 c×d4 19. Qd3 h×g4 20. e5 Qh4 21. Ne7† Kh8 22. e×d6 g×h3 23. f4 Bc4 24. Qf3 B×f1 25. K×f1 h2 26. Be4 Rad8 27. Nf5 h1Q† 28. Q×h1 Q×h1† 29. B×h1 d3 30. B×b7 g6 31. B×a6 g×f5 32. B×d3 R×d6 33. Bc4 Rd2 0–1

181. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz

wDwDwiwD Dw0wDw0p w0pDwDwD DwDw)wDw wDw0wDwD DBDwDw)b P)PDwIw) DwDwDwDw

184. Steinitz–The Rev. G. A. MacDonnell

After 32. f×e5

An interesting endgame has arisen. Black should probably start with 32. … Bg4 to impede the White king’s centralization. 32. … Ke7 33. Kf3 c5 34. a4 Bf5 35. g4 Bg6 36. h4 c4 37. B×c4 B×c2 38. b3 c5 39. Bd5 Bd1† 40. Kf4 Bc2 41. g5 Bg6 42. Be4 B×e4 43. K×e4 Kd7 44. b4 c×b4 45. K×d4 Ke6 46. Kc4 K×e5 47. K×b4 Kd6 48. Kb5 Kc7 49. Ka6 Kc6 50. Ka7 50. h5 also only draws. 50. … b5 ½–½

182. Steinitz–C. V. de Vere B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (1.4), July 1866 Modern Defense (B06) Bachmann (game 123); Transactions 66/67, pages 42–43; C.P.M., ns 2 (August 1866), pages 250–251; N.B.S.Z., IV (1867), pages 442–444.

B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (2.2), Mid-August 1866 Falkbeer Counter-Gambit (C32) Bachmann (game 124); Transactions 66/67, pages 47–48 says this was the second game. Also with notes in C.P.M., ns 3 (June 1867), pages 178–179; Devidé page 22; Hübner in Caissa 2/2018, page 54. This second game was delayed because of the match with Anderssen. So it was probably played soon after 10 August, most likely in the week ending 18 August. Pickard’s database (though not his book) reverses the order of White’s fourth and fifth moves.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 d5 3. e×d5 e4 4. Nc3 Nf6 5. d3 Bb4 6. d×e4 N×e4 7. Qd4 B×c3† 8. b×c3 0–0 9. Nf3 Re8 10. Be2 Nf6 11. c4 Bg4 12. Qd3 c6 13. 0–0 c×d5 14. c×d5 N×d5 15. h3 Bd7? 16. Q×d5 R×e2 17. Ne5 Qf6 18. Qd3 R×e5 19. f×e5 Q×e5 20. Ba3 Qc7 21. R×f7! Qb6† 22. Kh1 K×f7 23. Rf1† Qf6 24. Qd5† Kg6 25. R×f6† g×f6 26. Qg8† Kf5 27. Bd6 1–0. “A quick, unnecessary collapse” (Hübner).

185. A. Mocatta–Steinitz B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (3.1), August 1866 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 126); Transactions 66/67, pages 49–50; C.P.M., ns 2 (November 1866), pages 340–341.

124

Steinitz in London

1. e4 d6 2. d4 Nf6 3. Bd3 Nc6 4. c3 e5 5. Nf3 Bg4 6. Be3 Qd7 7. Nbd2 Be7 8. Qb3 e×d4 9. c×d4 Nd8 10. 0–0 c6 11. Rac1 Be6 12. d5 Bf7 13. Bc4 0–0 14. Ng5 a6 15. N×f7 N×f7 16. f4 b5 17. Be2 c×d5 18. e×d5 Bd8 19. Bf3 Re8 20. Bd4 Ba5 21.  Qd1 Qf5 22.  B×f6 Q×f6 23.  Rc2 Q×f4 24.  Kh1 Qd4 25. Nb3 Q×d1 26. B×d1 Bb6 27. Rc6 Be3 28. Bg4 Ne5 29. h3 N×c6 30. d×c6 Bb6 31. Nc1 Re3 32. Rd1 Rae8 33. Nd3 R8e4 34. a3 Rd4 35. Nf2 R×d1† 36. N×d1 Re1† 37. Kh2 g6 38. Nc3 Rc1 39. Kg3 Kf8 40. Bf3 Ke8 41. Kf4 Kd8 42. Be4 Bd4 43. Ne2 Rf1† 44. Kg5 B×b2 45. Kh6 Rf7 46. Bd5 Re7 47. Bf3 B×a3 48. g4 Re3 49. Nd4 Bb2 0–1

186. A. Mocatta–Steinitz B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (3.2), August 1866 Remove Black’s f-pawn Transactions 66/67, pages 51–52; C.P.M., ns 2 (November 1866), pages 341–343; Bachmann (game 127) published the complete game only in his second edition.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 Nc6 3. Nf3 b6 4. c4 Bb7 5. Bd3 Pickard reversed the order of White’s fourth and fifth moves. 5. … Nh6 6. Nc3 Nf7 7. 0–0 g6 8. Be3 Bg7 9. Qd2 0–0 10. e5 Rc8 11. Ne4 Ne7 12. Nfg5 N×g5 13. B×g5 B×e4 14. B×e4 Qe8 15. g4 c5 16. Rac1 c×d4 17. Q×d4 Nc6 18. B×c6 R×c6 19. Bf6 B×f6 20. e×f6 e5 21. Qd5† Kh8 22. g5 Rc5 23. Qe4 Qe6 24. b4 Rc7 25. Rc3 Rfc8 26. Rfc1 Kg8 27. a3 a6 28. a4 Kf8 29. Kf1 a5 30. b5 Ke8 31. h4 Kf8 32. Ke2 Ke8 33. Kd2 Qf5 34. Q×f5 g×f5 (see diagram) Bachmann originally had the finish only from this diagram:

wDrDkDwD Dw4pDwDp w0wDw)wD 0PDw0p)w PDPDwDw) Dw$wDwDw wDwIw)wD Dw$wDwDw

1.  e4 e6 2.  d4 d5 3.  Qh5† g6 4.  Qe5 Nf6 5.  Bg5 Be7 6. e×d5 Neglecting development; N.B.S.Z. suggested 6. Bb5†. 6. … 0–0 7. d×e6 Ng4 N.B.S.Z. preferred 7. … Nc6. 8. B×e7 Q×e7 9. Qe2 N×f2 10. Nf3 N×h1 11. d5 Na6 12. Nc3 c6 13. d×c6 b×c6 14. 0–0–0 Nc5 15. Qe3 B×e6 16. Bc4 Rae8 17. B×e6† N×e6 18. R×h1 Nf4 19. Qf2 N×g2 20. Q×g2 Qe3† 21. Nd2 Rf2 22. Q×f2 Q×f2 23. Nce4 Qg2 24. Nf6† Kh8 25. Rf1 Rf8 26. b3 Qg5 0–1

188. S. J. Green–Steinitz B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (4.1), September 1866 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 129); C.P.M., ns 2 (December 1866), pages 362–363; Transactions 66/67, pages 42–44. Pickard’s book just has “Green” for all games against both Greens, while his database erroneously named the player in every case as Valentine Green. The Era, 16 September 1866, reported that Steinitz had won the Handicap tournament. These two games were probably played in early September before the match with Bird. Because of the difference of two classes between them, Steinitz was obliged to concede odds of pawn and two moves to Green.

1. e4 AND 2. d4 e6 3. Bd3 c5 4. c3 g6 5. e5 Nc6 6. Nf3 d6 7. Bb5 d5 8. h4 c×d4 9. c×d4 Qa5† 10. Nc3 Bb4 11. B×c6† b×c6 12. Bd2 Ba6 13. Ng5 Kd7 14. Nf7 Ne7 15. N×h8 R×h8 16. a3 B×c3 17. B×c3 Qb5 18. a4 Qc4 19. a5 Qb5 20. Ra4 c5 21. d×c5 Nc6 22. Rh3 Kc8 23. Rf3 d4 24. B×d4 Rd8 25. Re3 N×d4 26. R×d4 Qf1† 0–1

189. S. J. Green–Steinitz After 34. … g×f5

35. Kd3 Kf7 36. Rd1 d5 37. Rdc1 d4 38. R3c2 Rc5 39. f4 e4† 40. K×d4 Rd8† 41. Ke3 Rd3† 42. Ke2 Rh3 43. Rd2 Rh2† 44. Ke3 Rh3† ½–½

187. A. Mocatta–Steinitz B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (3.3), August 1866 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 128); C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), page 343; Transactions 66/67, page 52. This game was also included in an article about odds play in N.B.S.Z., VIII (1871), pages 268–269. It is known from The Era of 2 September that Steinitz had won his match with Mocatta by the end of August and had been paired with Green for the next round.

B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (4.2), September 1866 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 130); C.P.M. 1866, pages 362–364; Transactions 66/67, pages 44–45. Steinitz conceded odds of pawn and two moves.

1. e4 AND 2. d4 Nc6 3. d5 Ne5 4. f4 Nf7 5. e5 Ngh6 6. c4 g6 7. Nf3 Bg7 8. c5 c6 9. Nc3 0–0 10. Bc4 c×d5 11. Q×d5 e6 12. Qe4 Qc7 13. Be3 Nf5 14. Bf2 Rb8 15. b4? d5 16. c×d6 N7xd6 17.  e×d6 B×c3† 18.  Ke2 N×d6 19.  B×e6† B×e6 20. Q×e6† Kh8 21. Be3 Rbe8 22. Qd5 B×a1 23. R×a1 R×e3† 24. K×e3 Qc3† 25. Kf2 Qb2† 26. Kg3 Nf5† 27. Kh3 Q×a1 28. Q×b7 Q×a2 29. Ng5 Ng7 30. Qe4 h6 31. Nf3 Qe6† 0–1

Early Days of the Westminster Chess Club As mentioned in the chapter introduction, many of the Divan regulars resolved to found a new chess club in the

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 West End. According to an account given by one who was present, “six well-known chess players supped together at the Albion in Russell Street” one evening in June and discussed the question. “Let us make a beginning to-night,” said the lawyer Thomas Hewitt, and enrolled those present as the first members, the others being Alexander, Boden, Duffy, Thomas Smith (the problem composer), and MacDonnell.8 It will be noted that Staunton was not mentioned as being at that meeting, but MacDonnell was writing many years after the events described. Staunton’s own version of the founding of the club, in The Chess World, is somewhat different.9 He reported on a meeting held on Friday, 8 June, in which he took the chair, and at which the question of founding a new chess club in London was discussed. After a lengthy discussion, Bird proposed and Hewitt seconded a motion that a new club be immediately founded under the name Westminster Chess Club to promote “British chess-play.” A further motion named the provisional committee, and a third decreed that the members were to be elected only by unanimous agreement of the committee. Both accounts say that soon there were upwards of 100 members including many leading amateurs. It may have been Staunton who proposed reviving the old name of the Westminster Chess Club, which was the first to which he had belonged. On 7 July he answered a correspondent of his Illustrated London News column as follows: “The preliminary measures for establishing the new club are proceeding, we believe, with all convenient expedition, and in a few days we shall probably be in a position to announce the date of opening.” Candidates for membership were invited to address one of the secretaries (Boden, Burden or Duffy) at the Divan, 101 Strand. Temporary premises were soon found at the Gordon Hotel, Covent-garden piazza.10 Walker was somewhat slow in giving information about the club to the readers of his column; he was not on good terms with Staunton. It was only during the Anderssen match that the following paragraph appeared in Bell’s Life in London: If the committee of management of the newly-revived Westminster Club will send us a prospectus we shall be glad to give due publicity to the scheme. The Chess Cigar Divan in the Strand having changed the room and narrowed the accommodation given to chess-players there for so many years, the seceders are numerous, and there is quite scope at the West End for a very large club if started with good management.11

The club moved in the week beginning Monday, 17 September to Haxell’s Hotel, which adjoined Exeter Hall, nearly opposite the Divan, “the rooms temporarily taken for the club in Covent-garden having been found inadequate to its requirements.” On 27 October, Staunton’s column recommended the Westminster, saying: “The experiment of combining all the advantages of an ordinary club with the special attraction of a chess society appears to be quite as successful

125

Thomas Hewitt, co-founder of the Westminster Chess Club. (From The Chess-Monthly, XV [January 1894].)

as we anticipated…. The members have the exclusive use of a noble chess saloon and smaller rooms for whist etc.” In February 1867, The Era answered a correspondent’s query about the Westminster Chess Club, in terms which showed that for many gentlemen it was not just the quality of the chess that governed their choice of club, but also the refreshments, and general comfort: G. M. E.—The Westminster Chess Club has undoubtedly made a fine start; but, though much has been done, much more remains to do. It will distance neither the “Ice-house,” nor the “Bun-house,” as some irreverent wit has styled the other two Clubs, without superlatively good management. It has another formidable rival, too, in the old “Divan,” where, if the general accommodation for Chess-players is not so complete, the catering is usually excellent, and this is an allimportant consideration. Good cheer, whether in viands or potables, is as indispensable to the prosperity of a chess club in these days as good Chess play.12

By the time those words were written, Steinitz was out (or on the way out) of the club, as will be seen in the next chapter. The following game, for which no firm date is known, was possibly played at one of its early meetings.

190. T. Hewitt–Steinitz Casual game, London 1866 Bishop’s Opening (C23) Bachmann published this game in the appendix to volume 4 of his first edition as game 963 but in his second edition, volume 1, it is game 117a. Bachmann gave the oppo-

126

Steinitz in London

nent no initial while Pickard has M. Hewitt (unknown to this author), but probably it was Thomas Hewitt. The game was apparently first published in Howard Taylor’s Chess Brilliants, game LXXI, page 73: “Herr Steinitz wins of Mr. Hewitt.”

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 f5 3. d3 Nf6 4. Ne2 Bc5 5. c3 Nc6 6. d4 e×d4 7. N×d4 f×e4 8. Bf4 d5 9. Bb5 B×d4 10. Q×d4 0–0 11. B×c6 b×c6 12. Qa4 Bd7 13. Bg5 Qe8 14. Qb3 The finish from here was published as a tactical puzzle in N.B.S.Z., VII (1870), page 23. 14. … Ng4 15. Bh4 e3 16. 0–0 Qh5 17. Bg3 e2 18. Re1 R×f2 19. Nd2 Raf8 20. c4 R×g2† 21. K×g2 Qh3† 22. K×h3 Ne3† 23. Kh4 Ng2† 24. Kg5 Rf5† 25. Kg4 h5† 26. Kh3 Rf2 mate (0–1).

Anderssen Match: Arrangements and Schedule Notwithstanding the scorn of Staunton, quoted at the close of the previous chapter, Steinitz did intend to aim high and challenge the winner of the two great London tournaments of 1851 and 1862. The genesis and initial negotiations for the match were outlined by Boden in his column for The Field on 21 July. This, and other sources, show that Steinitz was encouraged in his ambitious plan by a wealthy patron, Robert T. Forster, who put up the whole of his £100 stake. Many years later, when Forster had just died at the age of 62, MacDonnell recalled that at the time Forster’s decision to back Steinitz was considered by most people “to be foolhardy but generous in the extreme.” Moreover, Forster “presented Steinitz some weeks before the commencement of the match with £20 to free his mind from all pecuniary anxiety, and enable him thoroughly to get himself into condition for the great contest. It is but fair to Mr. Steinitz to add that (I believe) all this money was repaid by him to his benefactor.”13 In his preparations, Steinitz had an invaluable aid: a recently published collection of games played by Anderssen in 1864 and 1865 on his summer visits to Berlin. Its editor, Gustav Richard Ludwig Neumann (1838–1881), has so far been mentioned in this book several times for his literary work, but soon he would become a major rival for Steinitz at the board. Many of these Anderssen games had been played against Neumann himself, and later he said that Steinitz had acknowledged how helpful the book had been to him.14 Anderssen would have not have had such a readily available collection of Steinitz’s games to study and, even if he had, Anderssen would not have prepared so assiduously for his opponent. Professional preparation for serious contests (and even lesser ones) seems to have begun with Steinitz. “He is in constant training,” wrote Hoffer; “he watches carefully the style of his rivals and takes note of the manner in which they treat certain variations in the openings.”15

MacDonnell named Frank Burden as the acceptor of the challenge, “and amongst his supporters was the present Chief Justice Lord Russell.”16 The Field said that Burden and “about half a dozen gentlemen” subscribed the £100 to back Anderssen. The original proposed terms were £50 to the winner, but Anderssen declined to come to England unless he was guaranteed £20 to cover his expenses in the event he lost. Forster and Burden declined to put up more money although Staunton offered to guarantee the £20 himself. Then the London Chess Club offered £10 on condition that the St. George’s subscribe the rest. Soon, on the formation of the Westminster Chess Club, it was agreed that the three chess clubs would equally between them put up this money and share the hosting of the games, and that the £20 would be paid to the loser, whoever it was. Many years later, Steinitz himself noted that “in a large number of public contests no prize for the loser was provided at all” and the £20 compensation eventually received by Anderssen was the highest amount ever paid to the loser of a chess match prior to 1886.17 According to the Schachzeitung, side-betting on the match was brisk, with large sums being wagered as on other sports events, and some people offered odds of two to one on an Anderssen victory.18 Anderssen had a long journey by railroad from Breslau in East Prussia (now Wrocław in Poland) and then a night ferry from France or the Netherlands. His arrival in England was possibly delayed by the Austro-Prussian seven weeks’ war in June and July. He eventually reached London on Saturday, 14 July, and visited the Divan that afternoon. Although somewhat fatigued, as Staunton put it, “with characteristic gallantry” Anderssen accepted an invitation from Bird to a friendly game, and the Prussian won it.19 The following Monday evening, 16 July, the match arrangements were formally agreed at a meeting chaired by Staunton at the Westminster Chess Club. That meeting and the regulations for the match were reported in the Illustrated London News on 21 July. An article by Nick Pope on the Chess Archaeology website consists of extensive quotations from this and other contemporary reports of the match, including game annotations.20 There was one mistake in Staunton’s report, where he stated in parentheses that the whole of the stakes for the match were subscribed by members of the Westminster Chess Club. On 18 August he had to publish a correction clarifying that Forster was not a member of that club, so it was only Anderssen who had been backed by club members.21 Since the stakes had been agreed to prior to Anderssen’s arrival, the meeting concentrated on practical details such as the number of games, where they would be played, and the time-keeping. It was firstly agreed that the victor would be the first player to score eight games. It was not explicitly stated in the regulations that draws did not count because that was the norm in all matches in those days. Games would “played in accordance with the rules of Chess ordinarily

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 observed in England,” a verbal formula which happily obscured the differences between Staunton’s Chess Praxis rules and the 1862 B.C.A. laws. Seconds for the combatants were not expressly mentioned in the regulations, but a reply to a correspondent of the Illustrated London News on 4 August clarified that matter: The old institution of “seconds” has not been forgotten in the match now pending. At the request of the players, Mr. Staunton and Mr. Hewitt consented to officiate for Anderssen, and Mr. Boden and Mr. Strode for Steinitz. The Earl of Dartrey, too, very kindly accepted the post of umpire in the contest.22

Three clubs would rotate the hosting of them: the Westminster, the St. George’s, and the London Chess Clubs, beginning with the Westminster on Wednesday, 16 July, with the second game at the St. George’s Club, on Friday the 20th (too late to be reported in the Saturday papers) and the third at the London Chess Club, on Saturday, the 21st. The games hosted by the Westminster were played at the Gordon Hotel.23 This would be the last important event in which the old London Chess Club was involved; four of the games were played there. Timekeeping was covered by clauses 4 and 5 of the regulations. Games would start at 1 p.m. on each of the designated days. If a player arrived fifteen minutes late he would be fined a guinea. If he was an hour late, he lost the game. Penalties for late arrival had been less strict at London 1862 and the 1866 B.C.A. Challenge Cup tournament which preceded the match. Arriving an hour late for a game in that competition cost five shillings and at that point the player’s sandglass was set running. Presumably the importance and high stakes of the match (and Anderssen’s input into the regulations) meant rules were much stricter for this contest. Clause seven stated that each game should be played out at one sitting, “unless, at the expiration of eight hours, both players agree to adjourn to the morrow. After four hours’ sitting, however, each player shall have the right to take a quarter of an hour for rest and refreshment.” There appear to have been no adjourned games. As for the rate of play, Anderssen and Steinitz were allotted a generous two hours each for every 20 moves with any unused time carried forward to the next period. The regulations do not specify what apparatus would be used for timing, nor the arrangements, if any, for supervising the contest. Nor did they expressly state how the time was to be measured, presumably a detail that the players and their seconds intended to work out before play began. In the famous photograph from the match, there is only a chess set on the table.24 This suggests that the timing apparatus was operated on a separate table by the umpire or seconds. Since there was no room on the table for scoresheets either, presumably the players did not keep score themselves, which may account for the discrepancies one finds between sources about move orders in some games.

127

In the London 1862 and 1866 tournaments, sand-glasses had been used to measure time and the tournament books describe how this was done.25 Each player had his own hourglass which would have been laid on its side after he made his move, but the Oxford Companion implies that some kind of clock or watch was used for this match. It says that in the early years of clocks, one was often a standard time-piece and the other a stopwatch so that the times used by the players had to be calculated. Hooper and Whyld also wrote: “For the Anderssen–Steinitz match of 1866 the time for each move was recorded and the total time calculated by addition.”26 Further confusion stems from a letter to British Chess Magazine in 1935 from Alfred C. Klahre, claiming that clocks from the firm of Weseltz, Prague, were used in the 1866 Anderssen–Steinitz match.27 The Schachzeitung article that Klahre cited actually said no such thing. The relevant part of the article by Dr. H. V. Klein says (combining main text and two footnotes): It is not that long ago—at least compared to the venerable age of chess—that accurate timekeeping and its monitoring in chess have come into use: in the year 1866 on the occasion of the Anderssen– Steinitz match…. The Anderssen–Morphy match of 1857 [sic] … was conducted without any control of the time…. The second London tournament (1862) was still played without time monitoring, but at the time this question was seriously considered for the first time. Only in the match Anderssen–Steinitz (1866) was the thinking time precisely regulated and checked by clocks: For 20 moves, each player had two hours of thinking time.28

Only a little further on did Klein start to talk about double-lever chess clocks and say that the first factory-made production of such devices was by the Prague company Wessely (mentioning no date). In many cases before the introduction of the double chess clock in 1883, “grace time” was allowed. In recognition that the timers were inexact, a player would be warned that he had, perhaps, two minutes to complete his move quota and a stop-watch would be used to time that precisely. Descriptions of how time management operated, and the refereeing of early matches and tournaments in general, are hard to find. Although the location and dates of play are not always stated in the sources that published the Anderssen match games, the strict alternation between the three clubs appears to have been maintained throughout. Clause 6 in the regulations provided that after game 3, “the remaining games [are] to be played, one at each sitting, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until the match is finished.” In actuality, this did not happen; presumably Anderssen was keen to speed up the match, because of his limited time in London, and it was subsequently agreed to play four games a week from the second week onwards, so game 7 was played on Saturday, 28 July instead of Monday 30th.29 That statement might appear incorrect because in the Illustrated London News of 28 July the first answer to correspondents said that a game of the match would be played on

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Steinitz in London

Monday (30th July) at the Westminster Club: “Any chess amateur of respectability will be admitted, we are told, to see the combat on presenting his card.” Staunton’s reply was in accord with the original schedule, but it seems a change was agreed on Friday evening which was too late for him to alter his copy, although (as a second) he would have known about it. For game 13 to have been played on Wednesday, 8 August (as stated in The Field three days later) and for the match to have finished with game 14 on Friday, 10 August, which is known for certain from several sources, there must have been four games in both the second and third weeks. It is most unlikely that there was any play on a Tuesday or Thursday as that would have meant games on three successive days. Accelerating the schedule by adding Saturday games is much more plausible, being less tiring for the players and more suitable to the leisure of most spectators. The proof of the change is that game 9, originally scheduled for the London Chess Club on Friday, 3 August, was played there on the Wednesday, for which we have Walker’s eyewitness testimony. Since he worked in the Stock Exchange and was a member of the London Chess Club, the games played there were the ones most convenient for him to attend. In Bell’s Life in London for Saturday, 4 August 1866, he described the play he saw in a way that matches the game score: We had the pleasure of seeing the ninth game played on Wednesday at the London Club, Cornhill, and the victory was gained by Anderssen in the most masterly style. He seemed to have fully appreciated the force of the young Austrian, and played in his very best form. The opening was the Evans Gambit, against which we reluctantly begin to admit a complete a defence has yet to be discovered. In playing the attack Anderssen makes a long waiting game, bringing his Queen’s Knight over to King’s side, and opening a fearful battery with King’s Rook; while second player is choked up on his Queen’s side, and virtually contends with at least two pieces off the field.

As the games of this match are so well known, they are not annotated here in great detail, except for the major turning points. They were published (in whole or in part) in several contemporary newspapers and periodicals, both in England and Germany. Coverage of this match began in The Chess Player’s Magazine (1866) on page 234 and continued through the next two issues, and began in The Chess World (volume 2 for 1866/1867) on page 169. The Neue Berliner Schachzeitung for 1866 (edited jointly that year by Anderssen and Neumann), introduced the match starting on page 232 and published the games on pages 239–260. The coverage in the senior Berlin Schachzeitung was mostly derived from the British press. The game scores later appeared, starting on page 110, in Transactions 66/67. Readers who rely upon databases and the standard Steinitz collections need to be aware that there are variant scores of three of the games. In games 1 and 7 these are minor transpositions of early move order in stan-

dard variations of the Evans Gambit, but the two versions of game 6 differ substantially in the middle game. Both are supplied, with explanations, so readers may draw their own conclusions. Also Bachmann made a mistake in transcribing Black’s 53rd move in the third game from descriptive notation, which some later works have copied. Only 25 years after the event were the games seriously reexamined. In 1891 the Russian master Mikhail Ivanovich Chigorin (1850–1908) annotated them for his column in Novoe Vremya (“New Times”) and an English translation of those notes, by Albrecht Buschke, was published in a 1952 supplement to the California Chess Reporter, a copy of which may be seen in the Royal Dutch Library.30 Lasker studied them too and wrote about Steinitz in his Manual of Chess. Most recently the match was re-analyzed by Hübner in an article for Schachkalender 2016, although he did not write notes to every game.31

Anderssen Match: The Games Perhaps, as so often at chess events, the start of the first game was delayed by an opening ceremony, because The Field of 21 July says play (due to begin at one o’clock) actually commenced at 1:40 p.m. Members of the three hosting clubs and of the British Chess Association had free admission to watch all the games, but the involvement of the B.C.A. was only nominal. The first game, played “to the no small entertainment and interest of a sufficiently numerous circle of amateurs,” ended at 6:30 p.m. in victory for Anderssen. Bell’s Life of 21 July said it was played at the London Chess Club; this was apparently a careless mistake by Walker.

191. K. E. A. Anderssen–Steinitz Match (1), Westminster Chess Club, Wednesday, 18 July 1866 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 135); The Era, 29 July 1866; C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), page 235–236; T.C.W., II (1866/1867), pages 170–171; Transactions 66/67, pages 110–111; N.B.S.Z. pages 239–240.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. d4 English publications vary on the move order. Pope follows the earliest ones (The Era, The Field, C.P.M. and T.C.W.) which all give 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4, reaching the same position.32 It is certainly possible that this was the actual sequence and many secondary sources give that move order. Nevertheless, this author concurs with Bachmann, Chigorin, and ChessBase in preferring the 6. d4 order for two main reasons. The Transactions gives 6. d4; Löwenthal might have been able to check details like this with the players. Moreover, we should trust the N.B.S.Z., of which Anderssen himself was co-editor. That shows he played 6. d4 in games 1 and 3, then

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866

129

switched to 6. 0–0 in the subsequent Evans Gambit games. Anderssen in previous years used to play both 6. d4 and 6. 0–0, more or less indifferently, but it is logical that after his loss in game 3 he should avoid the line of defense which Steinitz employed there. 6. … e×d4 7. 0–0 d6 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. d5 Na5 10. Bb2 Ne7 11.  Bd3 0–0 12.  Nc3 c6 Steinitz opened the center prematurely. 12. … c5 was preferred by some experts at the time and was said in the N.B.S.Z. to be superior to the text move. Instead 12. … Ng6, as played in game 9, became the usual choice after the 1860s. 13. Ne2 In games 5 and 11 Anderssen played 13. Qd2. 13. … f5?! 14. Rc1 f×e4 15. B×e4 Bf5 16.  B×f5 R×f5 17.  d×c6 b×c6 N.B.S.Z. said Black should recapture with the a5-knight; Chigorin agreed. 18.  Ned4 Rf6 19.  N×c6 Ne×c6 20.  B×f6 Q×f6 21.  R×c6 N×c6 22. Qd5† Qf7 23. Q×c6 Rd8 24. a4 Anderssen playing Steinitz, taken by professional photographers Mayall, of Regent-street. d5 25. Rd1 d4 26. Rd3 Qf5 27. Qc4† (From Hermann von Gottschall’s collection of Anderssen’s games.) Kh8 28. h3 Rc8 29. Qb3 h6 30. g4 position. 6. … Nh6 This was the main reply in those days, Qf6 31. Qd5 Rc3?! Hübner says the position was equal and but 6. … f3 and Polerio’s 6. … Nf6 (Game 489) were somethe best move here appears to be 31. … Qc6 because Black times seen. Eventually the gambit was refuted by 6. … Nc6 has nothing to fear after the queen exchange and might even (see notes to Game 527). 7. d4 d6 For 7. … f3 see Game 240. stand better, e.g., 32. f5 Qa8 threatening …Rf8. The Black 8. Nd3 f3 9. g3 Qh3†?! Anderssen adopted 9. … Qe7 in his queen is secure on the a8–h1 diagonal and White’s king is next game with Black. 10. Ke1 Qh5 11. Nc3 c6 12. Bd2 Qg6 less secure. 32. Ne5 Rc5? Hübner agrees with N.B.S.Z. that 13. Nf4 Qf6 14. Be3 Nd7 15. Kf2 Ng8 16. e5 Qe7 17. e6 f×e6 instead of this Black should exchange rooks, but considers 18. N×e6 Ndf6 19. Bf4 B×e6 20. B×e6 Kd8 21. Re1 Qg7 that White would have a favorable ending. 33. Qa8† Kh7 22. d5 c5 23. Nb5 Ne8 24. Qd2 Ngf6 25. Qa5† b6 26. Qa4 34. Qe4† Kg8 35. Ng6 Rc3 36. Qe8† 1–0. Qb7 27. Bg5 Be7 28. Bf7 Qd7 29. B×e8 R×e8 30. Re6 a6 Hübner calls this a sudden and altogether unnecessary 31. Rae1 Q×b5 32. Q×b5 a×b5 33. B×f6 Ra7 34. R×d6† Rd7 breakdown by Steinitz. 35. Rde6 B×f6 36. R×e8† Kc7 37. R8e6 B×b2 38. Re7 Bd4† 192. Steinitz–K. E. A. Anderssen 39. Kf1 R×e7 40. R×e7† Kd6 41. R×h7 K×d5 42. Rh4 Kc4 Match (2), St. George’s Chess Club, Friday, 20 July 1866 43. R×g4 Kc3 44. h4 K×c2 45. h5 Be3 46. Rf4 c4 47. h6 Salvio Gambit (C37) B×f4 48.  g×f4 c3 49.  h7 Kb1 50.  h8Q c2 51.  Qh7 Kb2 Bachmann (game 136); The Field, 28 July 1866; N.B.S.Z., III 52. Qg7† K×a2 53. Qc3 Bachmann says Black resigned here; (1866), pages 240–241; T.C.W. 1866/67, pages 172–173; N.B.S.Z. and the Transactions 66/67 both stopped here saying C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 237–238; D.S.Z., 1866, page “And White wins.” These extra moves were in The Field: 276; Neishtadt pages 52–57. Hübner observed that 53. … Kb1 54. Qb3† Kc1 55. f5 1–0. Anderssen played the opening phase so helplessly that it was not worth commenting on this game. 1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. Ne5 Steinitz played the Salvio Gambit four times in this match, having apparently made a special study of it. He repeated it on many other occasions in his career up to 1882. 5. … Qh4† 6. Kf1 White does not lose a piece but he should end up in a bad

193. K. E. A. Anderssen–Steinitz

Match (3), London Chess Club, Saturday, 21 July 1866 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 137, with a mistake in the score); T.C.W., II, page 174; The Field, 28 July 1866; N.B.S.Z., III (1866), pages 241–243; C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 238–241.

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Steinitz in London

This is game 4 in Pritchett’s book on Steinitz, starting on page 30, where it is annotated in depth, as it is also by Hübner on pages 175–183 of his aforementioned article. 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d3 Varying from game 1 and arguably disimproving on the usual 7. … d6 played there. This is the only known Steinitz game where he played 7. … d3, which he had possibly prepared as a surprise weapon. 8. Q×d3?! I.L.N.: “This is far less attacking than the ordinary move of 8. Ng5, a move repeatedly played by Mr. Anderssen himself formerly with good results.” 8. … d6 9. Bg5 Nge7 10. Nbd2 h6 11. Bh4 0–0 12. Nb3 Bb6 13. h3 Be6 14. Rad1 Qd7 15. Bd5 Ng6 16. Bg3 Rae8 17. c4 B×d5 18. e×d5 Nce5 19. N×e5 N×e5?! Hübner and Pritchett both indicate 19. … Nb4. 20. Qc3 Ng6?! According to both Hübner and Pritchett, 20. … f6 was a better way to meet White’s threat to win a piece by c4– c5. 21. c5 d×c5 22. N×c5 Qf5 Hübner prefers 22. … Qb5. 23. N×b7 Re2? This surrenders the last of Black’s advantage; he should have played 23. … Nf4 (Hübner and Pritchett). 24. d6 c×d6 25. N×d6 Qe6 26. a4 Bd8 27. Qc5? Instead of winning the a-pawn, White should play 27. Rfe1 as suggested both by N.B.S.Z. and Chigorin. 27. … f5 28. Q×a7 f4 29. Bh2 Nh4 30.  Qb7 Qg6 31.  Rd4? Losing time; Hübner says 31. Qd5† Kh7 32. Qd3 (Gottschall) was best but Pritchett prefers Black after 31. … Kh8. 31. … Bb6 32. Rdd1 Re6?! This maintains the pressure but 32. … Bc7 was stronger as Pritchett shows. 33. a5 Bc5 34. a6 Re7 35. Qd5† Kh8?! Better 35. … Kh7, when if 36. Qd3 Rf5 wins immediately (Pritchett). 36. a7 B×a7 37. Rfe1 R×e1† 38. R×e1 Kh7? 38. … Qc2! (Pritchett) should win eventually. 39. Qe4 Rf6 40. Nb5 Re6 41. Q×g6† R×g6 42. N×a7 R×g2† 43. Kh1 R×h2† 44. K×h2 Nf3† 45. Kg2 N×e1† 46. Kf1 Nd3 47. Nc6 Kg6 48. Ke2 Nc5 49. Kf3 Ne6 (see diagram)

wDwDwDwD DwDwDw0w wDNDnDk0 DwDwDwDw wDwDw0wD DwDwDKDP wDwDw)wD DwDwDwDw

After 49. … Ne6

50. Ne5† Hübner says that either 50. Ke4 or 50. h4 should draw. 50. … Kf5 51. Nd3 Pritchett calls this a blunder but Hübner doubts that White can save the ending after 51. Nc4 Nd4† 52. Kg2 Ke4. 51. … g6 52. Ne1 Nd4† 53. Kg2 Ke4 Bachmann’s book had the incorrect 53. … Ke5 here, as did Pickard’s database (though his book was right). 54. Kf1 f3 55. Kg1 g5 56. Kh2 h5 57. Kg3 Nf5† 58. Kh2 g4 59. h×g4 h×g4 Now the seven man tablebase shows Black is winning.

60. Kg1 Kd4 61. Nc2† Kd3? It was Steinitz’s turn to misplay the endgame. The tablebase shows that the correct reply was 61. … Kc3 (or Kc4), both of which mate in 20 moves, while 61. … Kc5 mates in 58 because Black can eventually return to this position. Other moves draw. 62. Na3?? 62. Nb4†! (N.B.S.Z.) has been analyzed to a draw by Karsten Müller as follows: 62. … Ke2 (62. … Kd2 63. Kf1=) 63. Nd5 g3 64. Nf4† Ke1 65. Nd3† Kd2 66. Nf4 g2 67. N×g2=. 62. … g3! Quickest, although several other moves also win, but sooner or later Black needs to either make this breakthrough or force the White king to the h-file. 63. Nb5 g2 0–1.

194. Steinitz–K. E. A. Anderssen Match (4), Westminster Chess Club, Monday, 23 July 1866 Salvio Gambit (C37) Bachmann (game 138); The Field, 4 August 1866; The Era, 12 August 1866; B.L.L., 29 September 1866; C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 241–243; N.B.S.Z., III (1866), pages 242–245.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. Ne5 Qh4† 6. Kf1 Nh6 7. d4 d6 8. Nd3 f3 9. g3 Qe7 10. Nf2 Instead of the usual 10. Nc3 as played in game 8. 10. … Be6 11. Na3 B×c4† 12.  N×c4 Qe6 13.  d5 Qg6 14.  h3 Nd7 15.  B×h6 B×h6 16.  h×g4 b5 17.  Na3 Ne5 18.  N×b5 Rb8 19.  Nd4 Be3 20. N×f3 Qf6 21. Kg2 B×f2? 22. N×e5 B×g3 23. Nd3 Black is strategically lost says Hübner. 23. … Bh4 24. Qe2 Qe7 25. Raf1 Bg5 26. Rf5 f6 27. Rhf1 0–0 28. b3 Rbe8 29. Re1 Kh8 30. Nf2 Bh4 31. Rh5 B×f2 32. Q×f2 Rg8 33. Qf5 Rg7 34. Rh6 Reg8 35. Reh1 R×g4† 36. Kf3 Rg3† 37. Ke2 R3g7 38. R×f6 Rg2† 39. Kd3 R8g3† 40. Kc4 Re3 41. Rf8† Rg8 42. R×g8† K×g8 43. Rg1† 1–0

195. K. E. A. Anderssen–Steinitz Match (5), St. George’s Chess Club, Wednesday, 25 July 1866. Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 139); The Field, 4 August 1866; The Era, 5 August; C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 242–244; T.C.W. II, page 204; B.L.L., 29 September 1866; N.B.S.Z., III (1866), pages 245–246. After losing the first game, Steinitz won four games in succession, of which this was the last. During most of it he had a lost position.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 Anderssen thus circumvents the line Steinitz employed in game 3. 6. … d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. d5 Na5 10. Bb2 Ne7 11. Bd3 0–0 12. Nc3 c6 This was Steinitz’s pet move. He played it three times in the match and on two later occasions. 13. Qd2 Gottschall said this move is stronger than 13. Ne2 which Anderssen played in the first game. 13. … f5? Notwithstanding the change in White’s play, Steinitz continues with the same questionable strategy. Compare Games 317 and 320, after which Steinitz switched to 9. … Nce7 (Game 323), which is also somewhat dubious. In later years Steinitz invented other curious defenses to the Evans. 14. Rae1 f×e4

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 15.  N×e4 N×d5 16.  Neg5 h6 17.  Ne6 Even stronger is 17. Bh7†! Kh8 18. Nf7† R×f7 19. Q×h6 Nf6 20. Qh4 as discovered in the twentieth century by Russian analyst Victor Fridman. 17. … B×e6 18. R×e6 Qd7 19. Rg6 Nf4 20. R×g7† Q×g7 21. B×g7 K×g7 22. Nh4 Contemporary commentators including Chigorin were critical of Anderssen’s play from this point and thought 22. Bb1 should be played. 22. … N×d3 23. Q×d3 Rf6 24. Nf5† Kf8 25. Qh3!? White is still winning

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with this move but Stockfish finds a combinative solution with 25. N×h6! R×h6 26. Qf5† and Re1 soon follows, 25. … Re8 26. Qg4 Ree6 27. Qg7† Ke8 28. g4 d5 29. Kg2 Nc4 30. Q×b7 Re2 31. Qg7 Rfe6 32. h4 d4 33. Qg8† Kd7 34. Qf7† Kc8 35. Ng7 Ne3† 36. Kg1? Simpler was 36. Kf3. 36. … Re4 37. f3? Hübner comments that White has already missed several wins, and now the only winning move was 37. Rc1, while some other moves such as 37. f×e3 would draw. 37. … d3 38. f×e4 N×g4† 39. Rf2 B×f2† 40. Kh1?? 40. Kg2 would still hold the draw (Hübner). 40. … Re1† 41. Kg2 Rg1† 42. Kf3 Ne5† 43. K×f2 N×f7 44. K×g1 d2 0–1 Anderssen now began his own four-game streak. Hübner analyzes the next game in great detail with numerous criticisms of both players. There are two versions of this game. For the reasons explained below, chiefly internal consistency, we prefer Staunton’s originally published score and reject the version (196a) which, following Bachmann, has been widely accepted for over 150 years.

196. Steinitz–K. E. A. Anderssen (and see 196a) Match (6), London Chess Club, Friday, 27 July 1866 Sicilian Defense (B24) Bachmann (game 140, corrected). To avoid repeating mistakes from databases, this game was input by the present author from Staunton’s original published score in the I.L.N., 11 August 1866. He gave the identical score later in T.C.W., II (1866/1867), pages 205–207, and Walker gave the same score in B.L.L., 6 October 1866. The scores in the Leipzig Illustrirte Zeitung on 6 October 1866 and Le Sphinx (1866), pages 122–123 were probably copied from Staunton. The game was also published on 11 August in The Field, with essentially the same score from move 17 (but several minor deviations). The other sources mentioned, including Hooper, Pickard, and Gelo’s book on World Chess Championships, all follow Bachmann.33 They give the same sequence as the I.L.N. up to Black’s move 16 and then diverge with 17. Be3. ChessBase’s database, at the time of writing, has the wrong version and cites the Schachzeitung for 1866 and T.C.W., II (1866/1867, page 205) but the score in the latter publication is different!

Howard Staunton, chess editor of the Illustrated London News from 1844 to 1874, who was Anderssen’s second for the match with Steinitz. (This is Wallis Mackay’s sketch for G. A. MacDonnell’s first book Chess Life-Pictures.)

1. e4 c5 2. g3 Nc6 3. Bg2 e5 4. Ne2 Nf6 4. … d6 5. 0–0 Nf6 6. Nbc3 Be7 7. Nd5 h5 8. h3 Bd7 9. f4 is the move order in The Field, but no other primary supports this version. As Boden also had a divergent sequence at moves 13–16 and missed a move pair near the end, his version cannot be considered reliable. 5. Nbc3 d6 6. 0–0 Be7 7. f4 h5 “A very unexpected course of action,” wrote Staunton. 8. h3 Bd7 9. Nd5 Qc8 10. N×f6† Exchanging in this way helps Black says Hübner; he suggests instead 10. N×e7 N×e7 11. Kh2 Qc7 12. d3 and White stands somewhat better. He also made numerous criticisms of the play of both sides; only the major ones are noted here. 10. … B×f6 11. f5 Ne7 12. c4 Qd8 13. Nc3 Bc6

132

Steinitz in London

The Field had 13. … a5 14. b3 Bc6 15. a3 Qd7 16. d3 reaching the same position, but again Boden is outvoted by the other commentators. 14. d3 Qd7 15. a3 a5 16. b3 b5 (see diagram)

rDwDkDw4 DwDqhp0w wDb0wgwD 0p0w0PDp wDPDPDwD )PHPDw)P wDwDwDBD $wGQDRIw

After 30. … Rd8

After 16. … b5

17. Bd2 Here the Staunton version is followed, because it is not only the earliest but also because, unlike the usually accepted version, it does not involve assuming that the two players made a mutual blunder at the point indicated in the second diagram. For the version with 17. Be3 see Game 196a and study the note to move 29. 17. … b4 18. a×b4 c×b4? As Hübner points out (although he had the 17. Be3 version, the same applies here), this leaves Black with a weak a-pawn and a position with few prospects. After the game, Anderssen received praise for his play in a closed position (not his usual forte) but until Steinitz began to go wrong, it was not so impressive. Anderssen presumably intended to make use of the open a7–g1 diagonal, as his subsequent bishop maneuver shows, but Steinitz could have maintained the initiative. 19. Na4 B×a4 20. R×a4 Nc6 21. Be3 Now the two versions differ only in the placement of Black’s QR. 21.  … Rc8 22. Qd2 Hübner says it was unnecessary to abandon the pressure against the h-pawn, and now Black starts to obtain some counterplay on the dark squares. So h3–h4 followed by Bf3 was the correct plan. 22. … Bd8 23. d4 It was better to play quietly with Qf2 or Kh2 says Hübner. 23. … Bb6 Staunton wrote that “From this moment, move by move, Mr. Anderssen improves the advantage of position he has acquired.” 24. d5 Qa7 25. B×b6 Q×b6† 26. Kh1 Nd8 27. Qg5 Kf8 28. f6 g6 29. h4 Hübner (in his version) suggests the pawn sacrifice 28. c5, to open the c-file for White’s rooks and prevent the Black king from finding shelter on the queenside. With the Black rook on c8 instead of a8, this idea does not work. 29. … Nb7 30. Bh3 By comparison with the 17. Be3 version of this game, this attacks the rook on c8 and the reply becomes comprehensible. 30. … Rd8 (see diagram) Now the position in the two versions of the score coincide. It is move 30 in the present main line but move 29 in the generally accepted version 196a. 31.  Ra2 Ke8 32.  Rd1 Ra8 33.  Qd2 Nc5 34.  Qe3 Kd8 35. Be6!? Hübner says that instead of this tactical trick White should try to improve the position of his pieces by Kh2 and Bg2 to protect e4, or Bf1 to protect c4, and Rb1. Black does

wDw4wiw4 DnDwDpDw w1w0w)pD 0wDP0w!p R0PDPDw) DPDwDw)B wDwDwDwD DwDwDRDK

not capture the bishop, as that would allow White a dangerous attack. 35. … Qb7 36. Kg1 a4 37. b×a4 b3 38. Raa1 b2 39. Rab1 R×a4 40. Bh3 Kc7 41. Bf1 Rha8 42. Rd2 Rb4 43. Kh2 Ra1 44. Rdd1 Rb3 The Field had a minor transposition: 44. … R×b1 45. R×b1 Rb3 46. Qh6. 45. Qh6 R×b1 46. R×b1 Qb4 47. Qf8 Qd2† The Field had a different continuation: 47. … Qc3 48. Q×f7† Nd7 49. c5 Q×g3† and now the illegal “K to Kt,” proving that Boden had omitted a move pair. 48. Bg2 Qd3 49. Q×f7† Nd7 50. c5 Q×g3† 51. Kg1 Rc3 52. c×d6† Kb6 53. R×b2† Kc5 54. Rb1 Rc2 55. Rb5† Kc4 0–1

196a.

The following is the alternative and usually accepted version of the sixth game, which was first published in C.P.M., ns 2 (pages 269–272), and then in the D.S.Z., XXI (pages 333–335), and N.B.S.Z., III (August/ September 1866), pages 246–248, and afterwards copied by Transactions 66/67 (pages 117–119), and by Bachmann, Chigorin, Hooper, Pickard, Gelo, ChessBase etc. It diverges with 17. Be3 instead of 17. Bd2.

1. e4 c5 2. g3 Nc6 3. Bg2 e5 4. Ne2 Nf6 5. Nbc3 d6 6. 0–0 Be7 7. f4 h5 8. h3 Bd7 9. Nd5 Qc8 10. N×f6† B×f6 11. f5 Ne7 12. c4 Qd8 13. Nc3 Bc6 14. d3 Qd7 15. a3 a5 16. b3 b5 17. Be3 b4 18. a×b4 c×b4 19. Na4 B×a4 20. R×a4 Nc6 Up to here the continuation appears to be the same but soon a serious problem arises, which indeed many commentators pointed out, without raising the question of whether perhaps they had an incorrect score. 21. Qd2 Bd8 22. d4 Bb6 23. d5 Qa7 24. B×b6 Q×b6† 25. Kh1 Nd8 26. Qg5 Kf8 27. f6 g6 28. h4?! This and White’s next move are serious mistakes here whereas they make sense in the 17. Bd2 version. 28. … Nb7 29. Bh3? Rd8? At this point the position in the second diagram above has arisen. The major problem with this version is that, as Hübner puts it, Black’s 29. … Rd8 is a “completely incomprehensible move” (ein völlig unverständlicher Zug). As C.P.M. and numerous others have pointed out before him, Black could instead have won simply by 29. … Nc5, which players of the class of Anderssen and Steinitz are unlikely to have overlooked in such an important encounter. This attacks both a4 and b3, winning decisive material, because if 30. Bf5 N×a4 31. b×a4 b3 32. B×g6 Qc7 and White cannot break through on the kingside (Hübner). This means

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 that almost certainly the position did not arise in the game via the 17. Be3 move order. The subsequent moves are the same as in the I.L.N. although the move numbering differs by one: 30. Ra2 Ke8 31. Rd1 Ra8 32. Qd2 Nc5 33. Qe3 Kd8 34. Be6 Qb7 35. Kg1 a4 36. b×a4 b3 37. Raa1 b2 38. Rab1 R×a4 39. Bh3 Kc7 40. Bf1 Rha8 41. Rd2 Rb4 42. Kh2 Ra1 43. Rdd1 Rb3 44. Qh6 R×b1 45. R×b1 Qb4 46. Qf8 Qd2† 47. Bg2 Qd3 48. Q×f7† Nd7 49. c5 Q×g3† 50. Kg1 Rc3 51. c×d6† Kb6 52. R×b2† Kc5 53. Rb1 Rc2 54. Rb5† Kc4 0–1

197. K. E. A. Anderssen–Steinitz Match (7), Westminster Chess Club, Saturday, 28 July 1866 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 141); The Field, 11 August 1866; C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 272–273; The Era, 16 September 1866; T.C.W., II, page 207; N.B.S.Z., III (1866), pages 248–249.

Hübner does not analyze games 7 and 8, saying that Steinitz made big mistakes early in both games. 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. d5 Na5 10. Bb2 Ne7 11. Bd3 Ng6 Following most sources but 11. … 0–0 (the usual move) 12. Nc3 Ng6 was the move order in The Field. 12. Nc3 0–0 13. Qd2 Bd7 14. Ne2 c5 15. Ng3 Bc7? “15. … f6 is absolutely necessary,” as Chigorin wrote. The Field commented: “Mr. Anderssen here catches his opponent in a trap which was familiar enough to the former, but of which Mr. Steinitz knew nothing.” 16.  B×g7! f6 17.  B×f8 Q×f8 18.  Nf5 b5 19. Rac1 Nb7 20. Kh1 a5 21. g4 Re8 The Field alone reversed the order of Black’s 21st and 22nd moves. 22. g5 c4 23. g×f6 Q×f6 24. Ng5 Ne5 25. Bb1 Nc5 26. Rg1 Kh8 27. Qc3 B×f5 28. e×f5 b4 29. Qg3 Bd8 30. N×h7 Qf7 31. f6 Q×d5† 32. Rg2 Rg8 33. Ng5 B×f6 34. Nf7† 1–0

198. Steinitz–K. E. A. Anderssen Match (8), St. George’s Club, Monday, 30 July 1866 King’s Gambit (C37) Bachmann (game 142); The Field, 11 August 1866; C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 272–274; T.C.W., II, page 208; N.B.S.Z., III (1866), pages 249–250.

1. e4 e5 Anderssen does not repeat the Sicilian; evidently he now had something ready against the Salvio Gambit. 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. Ne5 Qh4† 6. Kf1 Nh6 7. d4 d6 8. Nd3 f3 9. g3 Qe7 10. Nc3 Steinitz does not wait to see what his opponent’s improvement on game 4 might be. 10. … Be6 11. d5? This does not turn out well. For his next game with White (Game 200), Steinitz prepared an improvement. 11. … Bc8 12. e5 d×e5 13. N×e5 Q×e5 14. Bf4 Qg7 15. Nb5 Bd6 16. Qe1† Kd8 17. B×d6 c×d6 18. Qb4 Nf5 19. Bd3 Na6 20. Qa3 Nc5 21. B×f5 Qh6 22. Bd3 Re8 23. h4 Qd2 24. Rg1 Re2 0–1

133

Thus Steinitz had lost two bad games in succession and Anderssen leveled the score at 4–4.

199. K. E. A. Anderssen–Steinitz Match (9), London Chess Club, 1 August 1866 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 143); I.L.N., 18 August 1866; The Field, 25 August 1866; C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 275–277; T.C.W., II, pages 209–211; The Era, 4 November 1866; D.S.Z., 1866, page 336; N.B.S.Z., III (1866), pages 250–252. The score 5–4 in Anderssen’s favor was published in The Field on 4 August, but the moves of this game were not published in that paper until three weeks later; Boden’s chess column was not published in the issue of 18 August.

Anderssen’s attacking play in this game was much praised, both at the time and later by Chigorin and Gottschall, but he missed the best plan at moves 24 and 25, then made a serious mistake on move 27. Steinitz could have repulsed the attack had he found Black’s correct 28th move. Hübner credits the refutation to Hooper, but it was pointed out soon after the event by C. Dupré of Rotterdam in a letter published in the Illustrated London News on 22 September 1866. 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. d5 Na5 10. Bd3 Anderssen reverses the order of his 10th and 11th moves, which makes no real difference. 10. … Ne7 11. Bb2 0–0 12. Nc3 Ng6 12. … c6 was played in game 11. 13. Ne2 Varying from match game 7 where 13. Qd2 was played 13. … c5 14. Qd2 Bc7 15. Rac1 Rb8 16. Ng3 f6 17. Nf5 b5 18. Kh1 b4?! If Black wants to capture on f5, it should be done at once. Chigorin said Black should have played 18. … c4 instead, while 18. … Bd7 is also a sound move. 19. Rg1 B×f5?! Gottschall remarked that the English press blamed this move for Black’s defeat because the other knight will come to e6. At Barmen in 1869, Zukertort tried 19. … Bb6 but Anderssen replied 20. g4 and soon had a winning attack. 20. e×f5 Ne5 21. B×e5 f×e5 22. Ng5 Qd7 23. Ne6 Rfc8 24. g4 Not bad but 24. f6! (Stockfish) is even deadlier. 24. … b3 25. g5 Again, 25. f6 was the clearest winning line. 25. … b×a2 26. g6 Even now 26. f6 or 26. Q×a2 would win, whereas after the text there is only a unique and difficult winning move which Anderssen missed. 26. … Nb3 The only move; not 26. … h6? 27. f6. 27. g×h7†?! 27. Qe3 is the engine solution: and if 27. … N×c1 (27. … Rf8 28. N×g7!) 28. f6 (threatening f7†) 28. … h×g6 (or 28. … g×f6 29. Qh6 mating in six) 29. B×g6 and White mates in at most eight moves. 27. … Kh8 28. Qg5 Bd8?? C.P.M and N.B.S.Z. said that against any other move, White would play f5–f6. They both overlooked that, whereas the text loses by force, 28. … Qf7 (Dupré) should win for Black. Contemporary analysis went 29. Qg6 (If 29. Rcd1 Bd8 and Black wins—Hübner.) 29. … Q×g6 30. f×g6 N×c1 31. Ng5 Rf8 and White’s threats are exhausted. 29. N×d8 N×c1 30. f6 Rc7 31. f7 Good enough

134

Steinitz in London

but 31. Bf5 mates in 12 says Stockfish. 31. … Q×f7 32. N×f7† R×f7 33. R×c1 R×f2 34. Qe7 Rbf8 35. Q×a7 Bachmann only gave the final moves in a footnote; Steinitz struggled on in a lost cause until move 42. 35. … R8f7 36. Qb8† Rf8 37. Q×d6 e4 38. B×e4 c4 39. Qb4 Most sources have Qe5 but N.B.S.Z., and some that followed it, have 39. Qb4. 39. … c3 40. Rg1 R2f7 This was the king’s rook; a few databases have incorrectly R8f7. 41. Q×c3 Rf6 42. d6 1–0 For the second time in the match, Anderssen took the lead.

200. Steinitz–K. E. A. Anderssen Match (10), Westminster Chess Club, 3 August 1866 King’s Gambit (C37) Bachmann (game 144); The Field, 25 August 1866; C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 276–278; T.C.W., II, page 234; The Era, 4 November 1866; N.B.S.Z., III (1866), pages 252–253; Birmingham Journal, 17 November 1866. This game is annotated by Pritchett in Giants of Innovation, pages 16– 22. Hübner comments only that Black handled Silberschmidt’s variation of the King’s Gambit “especially negligently” and was soon lost.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. Ne5 Qh4† 6. Kf1 Nh6 7. d4 d6 8. Nd3 f3 9. g3 Qe7 10. Nc3 Be6 11. Bb3! Improving on the eighth game. 11.  … Bg7 12.  Be3 B×b3 13. a×b3 c6 14. Qd2 Ng8 15. e5 d5 16. Bg5 Qe6 17. Na4 Na6 18. Nac5 N×c5 19. N×c5 Qg6 20. N×b7 Nh6 21. Nd6† Kd7 22. h3 f6 23. e×f6 Bf8 24. Nb7 Nf5 25. Bf4 g×h3 26. Kf2 Q×f6 27. Be5 Qg6 28. R×h3 Bh6 29. Nc5† Ke8 30. R×h6 N×h6 31. B×h8 Kf7 32. Be5 Qh5 33. Qf4† Kg8 34. Rh1 Ng4† 35. Kg1 N.B.S.Z. ends here saying “and White wins,” copying C.P.M. which also stopped here. 35. … f2† 36. Kg2 “and won” says Bachmann; 36. … Qg6 37. Nd7 Re8 38. Q×g4 1–0 Pritchett correctly gives these extra moves (published in The Field) as played. Steinitz thus leveled the score at five wins each.

201. K. E. A. Anderssen–Steinitz Match (11), St. George’s Chess Club, Saturday, 4 August 1866 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 145); The Field, 25 August 1866; C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 278–280; T.C.W., II, pages 235–237; N.B.S.Z., III (1866), pages 252–255.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. d5 Na5 10. Bb2 Ne7 11. Bd3 0–0 12. Nc3 c6 Steinitz returns to his original move from game 1 but now Anderssen varies. 12. … Ng6 was played in game 9. 13.  Qd2 c×d5 14.  N×d5 Ng6 15.  N×b6 Q×b6 16. Rab1 Qd8 17. Nd4 Ne5 18. Ba1 N×d3 19. Q×d3 Nc6 20. Nb5 Qe7 21. N×d6 Rd8 22. Qg3 f6 23. Rbd1 Be6 Hübner drew attention in the game chiefly to this moment, where he wrote that White has achieved a fine attacking position.

24. Rd2 came into consideration now, e.g., 24. … Rd7 25. bb2 a5 26. Rfd1 Rad8 27. a4, when Black cannot improve the placement of his knight and must play very attentively to maintain the balance. 24. Rfe1 B×a2 25. Nf5 Qf8 26. Nd6 Rd7 27.  Rd2 Rad8 28.  Red1 Be6 29.  h4 a5 30.  Bc3 a4 31. Rd3 a3 32. h5 h6 33. R3d2 a2 34. Bb2 Ne5 35. Ba3 R×d6 36. B×d6 R×d6 37. R×d6 Q×d6 38. Rc1 Qd4 39. Qa3 Ng4 40. Rf1 N×f2 41. Kh2 Ng4† 42. Kh1 Qe5 Staunton’s magazine said Anderssen resigned here. 43. g3 The Field ends here saying “And Herr Anderssen surrendered,” Black has several ways to mate in six moves. 43. … Q×h5† 0–1. According to N.B.S.Z. the final move was 43. … Q×e4† but C.P.M., Transactions, Bachmann, etc., say Black took the hpawn. Thus Steinitz recaptured the lead, but not for long.

202. Steinitz–K. E. A. Anderssen Match (12), London Chess Club, Monday, 6 August 1866 Sicilian Defense (B20) Bachmann (game 146); The Field, 1 September 1866; C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 294–295; T.C.W., II, page 237; N.B.S.Z., III (1866), pages 255–257. Having lost three of the four Salvio Gambit games, Anderssen avoids it. Buschke commented that since Anderssen won both the games in which he employed the Sicilian Defense, it is surprising he did not use it more often in the match.34

1. e4 c5 2. g3 Nc6 3. Bg2 e5 4. Ne2 d6 5. 0–0 Nf6 6. c3 White will play in the center instead of the slow Nc3 idea seen in the sixth game, which was met with a flank reaction. 6. … Qc7 7. d4 Bd7 8. Na3 a6 9. Nc2 Qc8 10. Ne3 Be7 11. Nd5 Bd8 12. d×c5 d×c5 13. Bg5 N×d5 14. B×d8 N×c3 15. N×c3 Q×d8 16. Qd6 Qe7 17. Qc7 0–0 18. Nd5 Qd8 19. Q×b7 Rb8 20. Q×a6 R×b2 21. Qc4 Qa5 22. Rfc1 Ra8 23. Q×c5 Q×c5 24. R×c5 Nd4 25. Rc7 Be6 26. a4 h6 27. h3 Ra5 28. Ra3 Kh8 29. Ra1 Kh7 30. Ra3 h5 31. Ra1 Kh6 White moves back and forth but Anderssen is not interested in a draw, and now Steinitz gives away his extra pawn. 32. Nc3? Rc2 33. Re1 R×a4 34. N×a4 R×c7 35. Nb6 Rc2 36. Nd5 Rd2 37. Ne3 g6 38. Ra1 Ba2 39. Bf1 f6 (see diagram)

After 39. … f6

wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw wDwDw0pi DwDw0wDp wDwhPDwD DwDwHw)P bDw4w)wD $wDwDBIw

Hübner says that both sides played inaccurately and now there is a clearly drawn position on the board: 40. h4, 40. Bc4, 40. Kg2, and 40. Rd1 all lead to a draw. 40. Nc4?! B×c4 41. B×c4 h4 42. g4? Steinitz makes a serious concession,

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 after which the game can perhaps not be held. Hübner indicates two ways to defend: 42. g×h4 Nf3† 43. Kf1 N×h4 44. Re1 Kg5 45. Re3 to meet 45. … Kf4 by 46. Rg3, or 42. Ra3 h×g3 43. f×g3 followed by Ra2. 42. … Nf3† 43. Kg2 Ng5 44. Bd5 Better 44. Re1 Rd4 45. Bd5 f5 46. g×f5 g×f5 47. Rb1 with drawing chances (Hübner). 44. … Rd3 45. Ra6 45. Rh1 f5 (N.B.S.Z.) 46. g×f5 g×f5 47. Bc6 was necessary and might offer some chance of saving the game (Hübner). 45. … N×h3 46.  R×f6 Kg5 47.  Rd6 Nf4† 48.  Kh2 Rd2 49.  Kg1 h3 50.  Ra6 Kh4 51.  Bc4 Rd4 52.  Bb5 K×g4 53.  Ra3 Kh4 54. Ra8 g5 55. Re8 Rd1† 56. Kh2 Rd2 57. Kg1 h2† 58. K×h2 R×f2† 59. Kh1 g4 60. R×e5 g3 61. Re8 Rh2† 0–1 Anderssen thus squared the match at 6–6.

203. K. E. A. Anderssen–Steinitz Match (13), Westminster Chess Club, Wednesday, 8 August 1866. Ruy Lopez (C65) Bachmann (game 147); this game has sometimes been viewed as the earliest in which the future positional Steinitz began to emerge. Kasparov annotated it for volume 1 of My Great Predecessors, pages 52–55, but today’s computer engines challenge some of his evaluations. At the time, the game was published in The Field, 1 September 1866 (without notes); I.L.N., 15 September 1866; The Era, 7 October 1866; B.L.L., 10 November 1866; N.B.S.Z., III (1866), pages 257–258; C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 296– 297; T.C.W. 1866/67, pages 239–240, and D.S.Z., XXI (1866), page 362. It is also in Neishtadt, pages 58–62.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3.Bb5 After six games with the Evans Gambit, Anderssen changes tack. 3. … Nf6 4. d3 This is nowadays known as the Anti-Berlin; the usual reply is 4. … Bc5. 4. … d6 5. B×c6† b×c6 6. h3 g6 7. Nc3 Bg7 8. 0–0 0–0 9. Bg5 h6 10. Be3 c5 11. Rb1 “White has certainly no advantage on any part of the board, yet he resolves upon an attack. That was the style of the time…” wrote Lasker in his Manual of Chess. 11. … Ne8 12. b4 c×b4 13. R×b4 c5 14. Ra4 Bd7 15. Ra3 f5 16. Qb1 Kh8?! Anderssen was not a player who worried about a pawn deficit if he could obtain free play for his pieces, and Steinitz probably wished to preserve his pawn mass on the kingside. Kasparov’s 16. … Nc7 was best. Winning a pawn here by 16. … f×e4 certainly involves some risk; White might have continued 17. Qb3† Kh8 18. d×e4 B×h3 19. g×h3 R×f3 20. Kg2 with compensation (Stockfish 10). This seems a clearer way of obtaining compensation than previous commentators have suggested. 17. Qb7 a5 18. Rb1 a4 19. Qd5? Stockfish 10 reckons 19. Qb6 about equal and therefore says Black should have given a second pawn by 18. … Rb8! 19. … Qc8 20. Rb6 Ra7 From here Stockfish’s assessments are always positive for Black. 21. Kh2 Anderssen was right to reject 21. Qc4 because of 21. … f4 22. Bd2 B×h3! 23. g×h3 Q×h3; Kasparov’s 24. Ne1 then loses to 24. … Nf6! 21. … f4 22. Bd2 g5!? 23. Qc4 Qd8 24. Rb1?! Nf6 25. Kg1?!

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Anderssen has missed his last chances for activity: 24. Nd5 or 25. Nb5 as indicated by Kasparov. 25. … Nh7 26. Kf1 h5 27. Ng1 Kasparov called this “probably the decisive error” and suggested 27. Nb5 but Stockfish 10 considers 27. … B×b5 (or even 27. … Rb7) followed by …g4 is clearly won for Black. 27.  … g4 28.  h×g4 h×g4 29.  f3? “This merely strengthens the enemy attack” (Kasparov). 29.  … Qh4 30. Nd1 Ng5 31. Be1 Qh2 A few secondary sources (including Kasparov) have 31. … Qh7, misunderstanding descriptive notation. 32. d4 g×f3 33. g×f3 Nh3!? 34. Bf2 N×g1 35. d×c5 Qh3† 36. Ke1 N×f3† 37. R×f3 Q×f3 38. Nc3 d×c5 39. B×c5 Rc7 40. Nd5 R×c5 41. Q×c5 Q×e4† 42. Kf2 Rc8 43. Nc7 Qe3† 0–1 “Never has a match at chess been more closely and gallantly contested than this,” remarked Boden on 11 August when reporting this result. Steinitz now led 7–6, “not a single game having been drawn.” The Era of 12 August was the first newspaper to report that the final game was played on Friday, 10 August at the St. George’s Chess Club. Play began in the afternoon and Löwenthal summarized: “The play on Friday was as fine as it was interesting; and at its conclusion Mr. Steinitz proved the victor, having, after a protracted game, given checkmate to his veteran opponent.” The tension of the occasion affected both players, with Steinitz missing the win of a piece at move 21. Subsequently there were several places where he could have won more quickly. Thus Steinitz won the match by 8 games to 6 with no draws. It had been hoped that Anderssen and Steinitz would visit the Redcar chess meeting in Yorkshire but the match did not end in time. Staunton, who was away there all week, only had a short paragraph on 18 August stating the result, and because the chess column of The Field did not appear that day, it was not until the 25th that Boden could report the result. Steinitz had been engaged to play blindfold in Redcar but Wayte substituted for him, playing five simultaneous games without sight of the board on Thursday, 9 August.35 Surprisingly, the moves of the 14th game appear to have been published nowhere for a whole month. Boden was presenting the games in sequence and his column failed to appear on 18 August and 8 September, so it was only in The Field of September 15 that he could present it. Staunton, apparently, was not eager to celebrate the defeat of Anderssen, but all the games did eventually appear in The Chess World. For annotations, chess enthusiasts had to wait until the October number of The Chess Player’s Magazine.

204. Steinitz–K. E. A. Anderssen Match (14), St. George’s Chess Club, Friday, 10 August 1866 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Bachmann (game 148); Boden introduced it, in The Field of 15 September, saying: “We give beneath the terminating game … the longest and most hard-fought, if not the most interesting partie in the whole contest.” The game

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Steinitz in London

also appeared in C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), pages 297–300; T.C.W., II (1866/1867), pages 240–243; B.L.L., 10 November 1866; N.B.S.Z., III (1866), pages 258–260.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6 4. Bc4 Nf6 5. d3 0–0 6. Qe2 Bg4 7. f×e5 d×e5 8. Be3 Nbd7 9. Nbd2 c6 10. Bb3 b5 11. 0–0 Qb6 12.  B×c5 N×c5 13.  Kh1 Rae8 14.  Qf2 a5 15.  a4 h6 16. Nh4 Hübner commented that White threatens Ng6 but this could have been prevented by 16. … Kh7. 16. … b×a4?! 17. B×a4 Be6 18. b3 Ng4 19. Qg1 Qb4 20. Nhf3 Bd7? Criticized at the time; Hübner says Black could put up resistance by 20. … N×a4 21. Rca4 Qc3 or immediately 20. … Qc3 (and if 21. B×c8 Rc8). 21. Nc4? Field: “Here Herr Steinitz, as he afterwards observed, overlooked the winning of a piece, which must have ensued by his now playing 21. c3 Q×c3 (21. … Qb6 22. Nc4 Qa7 23. b4) 22. Rfc1 Q×d3 23. Q×c5.” Hübner gives 21. h3 Nf6 22. c3 winning the piece, but notes that the move Steinitz played was sufficient for eventual victory, because White collects at least the e5-pawn with the superior game. 21. … N×a4 22. R×a4 Qc3 23. h3 Nf6 24. Rc1 Nh5 25. Qe1 Q×e1† 26. R×e1 f6 27. R×a5 Re6?! 28. d4 Rb8 29.  d×e5 Be8 30.  Nd4 Re7 31.  Rc5 Rc7 32.  Nd6 f×e5 33. N×e8?! Endgame expert Karsten Müller has analyzed the final phase of this game; he pointed out that 33. R×e5 Nf6 34. Rc5 was simpler. 33. … R×e8 34. R×c6? This involves Steinitz in much extra work and jeopardizes the win. Müller indicates 34. Nf3 Nf6 35. N×e5 Re6 36. Kh2. 34. … Rec8 35. R×c7 R×c7 36. Nf3 R×c2 37. N×e5 Rc3? Better 37. … Nf4 38. Rb1 Re2 39. b4 R×e4 40. Nc6 Nd5 41. b5 Nb6 with drawing chances (Müller). 38. b4 Rb3 39. Nc6 Nf4 40. e5 Nd3 41. Ra1 N×b4 If 41. … Nf4 42. Rd1 (Müller). 42. Ra8† Kh7 43. Rb8 N×c6 44. R×b3 N×e5 45. Rb6 Ng6 46. Kh2 Ne5 47. Kg3 Nd7 48. Rd6 Nf6 49. Kf4 Ng8 50. g4 Ne7 51. h4 Ng6† 52. Kg3 Ne7 53. Re6 Ng6 54. h5 Nh8 Pickard’s database here had 54. … Nf8 and his score subsequently diverged until Black’s 59th move. 55. Re7 Kg8 56. Kf4 Nf7 57. Kf5 Kf8 58. Ra7 Kg8 59. Rc7 Ng5 60. Kg6 Ne6 61. Rc8† Nf8† 62. Kf5 Kf7 63. Ra8 Kg8 64. Ke5 Kf7 65. Ra7† Kg8 66. Kd6 Nh7 67. Ke6 Nf6 (see diagram)

wDwDwDkD $wDwDw0w wDwDKhw0 DwDwDwDP wDwDwDPD DwDwDwDw wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw

After 67. … Nf6

68. Kf5?! This does win by force, but slowly. There was a quick kill by the surprising 68. g5!!, e.g., 68. … h×g5 (68. … N×h5 69. g6 Nf4† 70. Kf5 forces mate soon.) 69. h6 (undermining) 69. … Nh5 70. h×g7 N×g7† 71. Kf6, as tablebases

verify. 68. … Kh7 69. Re7 Nd5 70. Re6 Nc7 71. Re5 Na6 72. Ke6 Nb4 73. Kf7 Nd3 74. Re8 Nf4 75. Kf8?! Playing the moves in the wrong order could have lengthened the winning process considerably; the FinalGen program indicates 75. Re7 as best. 75. … Nd5 75. … g5 or 75. … g6 fights longer but Anderssen understandably tries for a fortress. 76. Re5 Nf4 77. Kf7 Nh3 78. Re3 Ng5† 78. … Nf4 was suggested afterwards but does not save Black. 79. Kf8 Kh8 80. Re7 Nh7†?? Resistance could be considerably prolonged by 80. … Kh7, 80. … Nf3 or 80. … Nh3, with chances of salvation by the 50-move rule if White plays inaccurately. (However the 50-move rule was inadequately worded in those days.) 81. Kf7 Nf6 82. Kg6 Ng8 83. R×g7 Nf6 84. Ra7 Here The Field omitted a move pair, writing “84. R to R7 mate.” 84. … Ng8 85. Rh7 mate (1–0). It is hardly any exaggeration to say that his victory over Anderssen was the turning point of Steinitz’s career; all his future success stemmed from it. Staunton did everything in his power to denigrate Steinitz’s victory over his great rival, to the extent of telling what amounted to a bare-faced lie. In his magazine he reported on what he called “the defeat of the Prussian champion by an antagonist scarcely recognised among the magnates of the game….” Also: “That Mr. Anderssen had no idea of such an issue at the beginning is certain, since he repeatedly said Steinitz would not win a game.”36 It is hard to imagine that Anderssen, by all accounts not a boastful man, would have said such a thing. Furthermore, in a reply to correspondent “E. M. H.,” Staunton claimed, in effect, that the quality of play in his matches and in Morphy’s matches were of a higher standard: We have not examined the games in the Anderssen–Steinitz match critically, as you seem to have done; but, judging from those we have gone through carefully, we are disposed to agree with you, that they “form the poorest and the most uninteresting series of parties played in any match of real importance for the last five-and-twenty years.”37

Walker’s assessment in Bell’s Life in London, at the point where Steinitz had taken a 7–6 lead, was more generous: “To have thus turned the tables on the veteran is a feat on the part of Steinitz worthy of all praise; and is the result of the hard practice he has had during a London residence of four years, grafted on his great genius for chess.”38 This was to be the highest stakes chess match for many years, not surpassed until the Steinitz–Zukertort World Championship match of 1886. There was, however, no question of the Anderssen–Steinitz match being for the World Championship, as Steinitz and others would afterwards often claim. In 1866 the concept of “world champion” was unknown in any sport, except perhaps pugilism, and in chess it only arose in the 1880s and was retrospectively applied to Steinitz’s earlier victories as part for the propaganda for his match with Zukertort. The fairest assessment of the new alignment in top chess was probably that expressed by Boden in The Field on 25 August:

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 By achieving this result, Herr Steinitz has placed himself very high up in the first class of chess players; and we may add that as a match player he is probably surpassed by no one except Morphy. On the part of Herr Anderssen we may fairly say, and that without the slightest disparagement of Herr Steinitz’s hardly and bravely won victory, that he did not manage judiciously in his choice of openings, that he risked too much by plunging into bad defences, and that, as if feeling himself pressed for time and dreading long protraction of the match, he risked the chance of loss rather than incur inevitably drawn positions.

Becoming a Father Steinitz’s daughter Flora was born, according to her birth certificate, to a young woman named Caroline Golder on the 7th of August 1866, but her birth was not registered until 17 September.39 Landsberger wrote that Steinitz remembered his daughter’s Flora’s birthday as the 6th of August; his basis for saying that is unknown. The Oxford Companion says that during the Anderssen match “Steinitz turned up punctually for every game, even on the day his daughter born.”40 If Flora was born on the 6th that could be true, but not if 7 August is correct because there was no game on that date. It would have been unheard of in those days for Steinitz to be present at the birth, even if he was married to Flora’s mother. Landsberger borrows this anecdote about punctuality and spoils it by saying “that was the date when Steinitz defeated Anderssen.”41 As we have seen, Steinitz lost the game played on the 6th but completed his victory four days later. Her mother was unable to sign her name on the register, and the spaces for the father’s name and occupation were left blank but the baby’s forenames were registered as “Flora Steinitz.” Landsberger made various statements (on unsourced information) concerning the mother of Steinitz’s child and his relationship with mother and daughter. He may even have failed to identify the correct woman because he says that Caroline was born on 22 November 1847 and yet “I do not know where in England Caroline was born.” This is a sure indication that he had not found her birth certificate, although both the 1871 and 1881 censuses show her birthplace as the working class district of Bethnal Green in London. Perhaps he had seen inaccurate American documents, dating from when mother and daughter immigrated to America in the mid–1880s to join Steinitz, since he does give the correct forename of her father. The Bethnal Green clue leads to a Caroline Elizabeth Golder who was born on 21 December 1844 at 3 Goulden Place, to Sarah Golder (formerly Pearce) and her husband James Golder, a weaver of that address. Her birth was registered on 25 January 1845 as the illustration shows.42 From this information it also follows that Steinitz’s common law wife was older than Landsberger said, i.e., 21 and a half years old when Flora was born, not just under 18. The address for

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Caroline Golder on Flora’s birth certificate is 63 Baldwyn Street in the City Road sub-district of Middlesex, which is about a mile north of the City boundary, more or less where Moorfield Eye Hospital is now located. Comparing maps from the 1860s with today’s street layout shows that Baldwyn Street has been greatly truncated, but as Landsberger says, there is still an old pub dating from the eighteenth century on what remains of it. Steinitz apparently never married Caroline Golder, perhaps because he was Jewish and she was almost certainly not, since Flora was later baptized. There is no way of knowing whether Steinitz was cohabiting with Caroline and Flora until 1871, as is shown in the census taken that spring. Steinitz never wrote about Caroline or their relationship, but he certainly did become close to his daughter as she grew up, as will be shown later. If Steinitz did not live with his partner, he was probably at least in the same area, since Baldwyn Street would have been just about near enough to walk to and from the London Chess Club and Purssell’s, though far from West End chess venues like the Divan.

Bird–Steinitz Match Steinitz now embarked on a new match, this time with Bird, a fellow member of the Westminster Chess Club, where their games were played. The match got underway in early September at the Westminster’s temporary home, the Gordon Hotel. Then in the week beginning Monday, 17 September the club moved to Haxell’s Hotel, adjoining Exeter Hall. A few days after the contest began, both Staunton in the Illustrated London News and Boden in The Field mentioned it. These were the two chess columns which provided fairly thorough reports on the progress of the contest. Both gave an early score, but only The Field gave an indication of the length of the match. This is what it said: MATCH BETWEEN MESSRS. STEINITZ AND BIRD. A little match is in progress at the Westminster Chess Club between the above-named gentlemen, Herr Steinitz and his supporters wagering odds on the result of the first ten games.43

Staunton’s column in the Illustrated London News on 15 September included the drawn second game, but did not say how many games were to be played. When Bird wrote about the match 19 years later in Modern Chess, he said that the winner was to be the first to score 11 games.44 The Oxford Companion and other authorities have followed him and said 11, but there must be some doubt because in the same sentence he wrote that “the number of games played in all was 18,” when it was 17, and elsewhere he once wrote 21 games.45 Bird’s habitual carelessness about details like that are part of what makes it difficult to achieve certainty about this match. Whether it was for 10 games or 11, this was an unusually high number, probably agreed because it was

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 recognized that Bird (who had scored only 1/7 in the B.C.A. Challenge Cup in the summer) was in need of practice and likely to lose early games until he could find his form. Gelo included this match in his book of “World Championship” contests—although Bird versus Steinitz was a much less formal affair than the one with Anderssen had been, and no claim to its being any kind of championship was ever made. Staunton made it clear that it was intended to be more in the nature of a training match, albeit with a money interest. He wrote in his magazine: Mr. Bird has valiantly given the challenge. His object, however, being not so much victory as an opportunity by stern practice of regaining something of his old force, which lack of play and devotion to more serious matters have seriously impaired. We wish him all the success his gallantry deserves.46

Initial announcements about the match in the press omitted the value of the stakes. Later Bird said £15 in one of his books and £25 in another while Steinitz never stated a figure.47 Bird backed himself while Steinitz’s stake was probably put up by the same man who backed him against Anderssen, though this was never publicly confirmed. There may well have been side-bets among the club members on the outcome. The match began on friendly terms but ended somewhat acrimoniously and, although Steinitz won, the way in which it terminated had serious negative consequences for him. Despite the blunders that marred three of the games, and the generally lower intensity compared with the Anderssen match, much of the play is interesting. Bird’s opening repertoire was unorthodox for the time and modern in some respects. Bird played eight French Defenses and when he was White, several instances of the Berlin Defense to the Ruy Lopez occurred. In sharp contrast to the previous match, there was only one gambit played: From’s, resulting in a rapid loss for Bird. Thereafter Bird obliged Steinitz to play a different type of game from that which he preferred in those days. In later years Bird claimed that he made “a better stand” against Steinitz than any of the champion’s other match opponents did until the 1880s, but the gulf between their achievements and skill only widened after 1866. For Steinitz, who clearly underperformed in this contest, there was perhaps an element of anticlimax and a justifiable feeling that if the match did become close he could go up a gear at the end and be sure of winning. The Chess Player’s Magazine hardly mentioned the match; this probably means that Staunton denied the games to Löwenthal. The precise dates of play cannot be established with certainty. Since Steinitz’s victory in the final of the Handicap tournament was published in The Era on 16 September, we may estimate that his games with Green were finished just

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before Saturday, 8 September, which looks a likely date for the match with Bird to have commenced. The Field of 15 September reported that Steinitz led Bird 2–1 with one draw.48 So, to begin with, the match was on schedule, but that schedule soon broke down. According to what Steinitz later wrote, the agreement in principle was that four games should be played each week, but with a recognition that Bird’s employment might oblige him to leave London for short periods, in which case Steinitz would be compensated financially. At least two such interruptions occurred during the match, although the precise dates are unclear. In what follows, a timetable for the match is estimated as closely as the primary sources allow, but it is only tentative. In view of the contradictory information that sometimes appeared in the press, it is unsurprising that previous writers also had difficulty working out when the games were played. Gelo assigned the first six games to September, games 7–10 to October and left 11–17 indeterminate (either October or November).49 One agrees with him about the early stages, but it is doubtful that the match had gone much beyond game 11 by the end of October, as will be explained below. For the earliest games this author tentatively suggests the following, game 1: Saturday, 8 September; game 2: Monday 10th (early enough in the week for Staunton to print it on the following Saturday); games 3 and 4 the same week, not later than the Thursday (since on Saturday The Field had the score after four games). Renette’s biography of Bird dates the first eight games to September and 9–14 to October, leaving the rest indeterminate but he accepts now that he was misled by incorrect datings in a scrapbook of columns from The Field.50 The Chess World neither numbered nor dated the games; they did not even publish them in the order in which they were played. All but one of the games in this match were published (and numbered) in The Field so the sequence here is that which is generally acknowledged.

205. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Match (1), Westminster Chess Club, 8? September 1866 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 149); The Field, 29 September 1866; T.C.W. II (October 1866), page 244.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 Nf6 4. f×e5 N×e5 5. d4 Ng6 6. e5 Ng8 “Mr. Bird has evidently forgotten the proper defence of the present opening,” wrote Staunton. 7. Nf3 d5 The Field reversed the order of Black’s 7th and 8th moves. 8. Bd3 Bb4 9. 0–0 Be6 10. Ng5 N8e7 11. N×e6 f×e6 12. Qg4 Qd7 13. Bg5 0–0–0 14. Rf7 Rde8 15. Ne2 Qc6 16. c3 Ba5 17. a4 Qb6 18. b4 B×b4 19. c×b4 N×e5 20. a5 Q×b4 21. Q×e6† Nd7 22. Rb1 Qa3 23. Bf5 and White wins (1–0).

Opposite, top: The birth certificate of Flora Golder, Steinitz’s first child. Note that “Steinitz” is given as her second Christian name. Opposite, bottom: The birth certificate of Caroline Golder, who became the mother of Steinitz’s first child.

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Steinitz in London

206. H. E. Bird–Steinitz

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. d4 e×d4 5. e5 Ne4 6. 0–0 Be7 7. c3 d×c3 8. N×c3 N×c3 9. b×c3 0–0 10. Qc2 d6 11. Bf4 N×e5 12. N×e5 d×e5 13. Rad1 Bd6 14. B×e5 Bg4 15. Rd4 Bh5 16. Bd3 Bg6 17. B×g6 h×g6 18. Qd2 Qe7 19. B×d6 c×d6 20. Re1 Qc7 21. R×d6 Rad8 22. R×d8 R×d8 23. Qg5 Rc8 24. Rd1 ½–½

Nf6 7. Bc4 Bb4 8. 0–0 B×c3 9. b×c3 0–0 10. Ne5 Na5 11. Bb3 b6 12. Re1 N×b3 13. a×b3 Bb7 14. Nd3 Ne4 15. Bb2 Qh4 16. f3 Ng5 17. Qe2 Rf6 18. Qf2? Engines spot 18. Bc1. 18. … Rg6 18. … Nh3† 19. g×h3 Rg6† 20. Kf1 Q×h3† 21. Ke2 Rg2 was seen by commentators at the time. 19. Q×h4 N×f3† 20. Kf2 N×h4 21. Nf4 N×g2 22. N×g6 N×e1 23. R×e1 h×g6 24. R×e6 Kf7 25. Re2 Be4 26. Bc1 Rh8 27. Kg3 Ke6 28. c4 c6 29. h4 a5 30. Bf4 Kd7 31. c3 Ra8 32. Be5 a4 33. b×a4 Bd3 34. Re3 B×c4 35. B×g7 R×a4 36. Kf4 Ra1 37. Bh6 Rg1 38. Bg5 Rg4† 39. Ke5 Bd5 40. Re1 Re4† 41. R×e4 B×e4 42. Kf6 f4 The Chess World ended here; Boden had an additional move: 43. B×f4 ½–½

207. Steinitz–H. E. Bird

210. H. E. Bird–Steinitz

Match (2), Westminster Chess Club, 10? September 1866 Ruy Lopez (C65) Bachmann (game 150); I.L.N., 15 September 1866; The Field, 29 September; T.C.W. II (October 1866), pages 244–245, and (December 1866), page 308.

Match (3), Westminster Chess Club, 12? September 1866 French Defense (C10) Bachmann (game 151); The Field and I.L.N., both 6 October 1866; T.C.W. II (November 1866), pages 262–263. Bird makes a good decision to switch to the French, but (as Renette puts it): “For a few games Bird tries the doubtful push …f7–f5, but he gets cured of it when Steinitz finally finds the right recipe.”

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 d×e4 4. N×e4 f5 5. Nc3 Nf6 6. Nf3 Bd6 7. Bc4 0–0 8. 0–0 c6 9. Re1 Nd5 10. Ng5 Rf6 11. Qh5 h6 12.  Nf3 Bd7 13.  Ne5 Be8 14.  Qf3 Nd7 15.  Bb3 Kh7 16. Bd2 Nf8 The Field reversed the order of Black’s 16th and 17th moves. 17. Ne2 g5 18. c4 Ne7 19. Ng3 Bc7 20. Bc3 h5 21. Ne4 B×e5 22. N×g5† Kg7 23. R×e5 Neg6 24. Ree1 Kh6 25. Nh3 f4 26. d5 Nh4 27. Qe4 Rf5 28. d×e6 Nh7 29. e7 Qd7 30. Rad1 Qc7 31. Qe6† Bg6 32. Rd7 1–0

208. H. E. Bird–Steinitz Match (4), Westminster Chess Club, 14? September 1866 Ruy Lopez (C67) Bachmann (game 152); The Field and I.L.N., both 6 October 1866; T.C.W. II (November 1866), pages 263–264.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 N×e4 5. Re1 Nd6 6. B×c6 d×c6 7. d4 e4 8. Nc3 f5 9. Ne5 Be6 10. d5 c×d5 11. N×d5 Nf7 12. Nf4 Qf6 13. Nf3 Be7 14. Nh5 Qg6 15. Nd4 Bd7 16. c4 The Field reversed two move pairs, giving 16. Nf4 Qd6 17. c4 0–0–0. 16. … 0–0–0 17. Nf4 Qd6 18. Nd5 Ne5 19.  Qb3 Rhe8 20.  Bf4 g5? 21.  c5 Qa6 22.  B×e5 Ba4 23. N×c7! B×b3 24. N×a6 Bc4 25. Nc7 Rg8 26. N×f5 Bf8 27. Nd6† 1–0

209. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Match (5), Westminster Chess Club, September 1866 French Defense (C10) Bachmann (game 153); The Field, 13 October 1866; T.C.W. II (October 1866), pages 245–246. This game was marred by mutual oversights at move 18.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 d×e4 4. N×e4 Nc6 5. Nf3 f5 6. Nc3

Match (6), Westminster Chess Club, September 1866 Bird’s Opening (A02) Bachmann (game 154); we follow the score in the English primary sources, namely The Field, 13 October 1866, and T.C.W. II (November 1866), page 264.

1. f4 e5 2. f×e5 d6 3. e×d6 B×d6 4. Nf3 Bachmann, Gelo’s book on World Championships, and Renette's book on Bird all have the sequence 4. d4 Nf6 5. Bg5 Nc6 6. Nf3 but this is implausible because Black could play 4. … Qh4†. 4. … Nf6 5. Bg5 Nc6 6. Nf3 Bg4 7. e3 Qd7 8. Bb5 0–0–0 9. B×f6 g×f6 Bachmann reversed the move pairs 8 and 9. 10. d5 Qe7 11. B×c6 Q×e3† 12. Qe2 Qc1† 13. Qd1 Rde8†! 14. B×e8 R×e8† 15. Kf2 Qe3† 16. Kf1 B×f3 17. g×f3 Bc5 18. Kg2 Rg8† 0–1 The Field of Saturday, 29 September gave the score after six games: Steinitz 3 Bird 1 and two draws. Boden commented that: “This interesting affair has made rather slow progress, but excites no little attention, as it is expected that Mr. Bird will fight better as the progress of the match restores his play by practice.” Boden would normally have been able to include results up to Thursday. Game 5 was possibly played on Saturday 15th, a day (or half day) off work for Bird, which was also the last day the Westminster Club met in the Gordon Hotel. Probably no games were possible the following week, except perhaps on Saturday, 22 September, because the club’s change of premises was taking effect, which would have involved moving equipment and setting up the rooms in Haxell’s. An inaugural dinner had been announced for 22 September but was deferred due to the absence of several members, who may have included Bird.51 So game 5 (if it had not been played already) and game 6 were early in the following week, in time for the result to appear on Saturday 29th. It is possible that game 7 (won by Bird) may have been played on 29 September but it is doubtful, for two reasons. Firstly, because of the delay in printing the moves in The Field. Secondly, the Illustrated London News of 6 October gave the same score as The Field had done the previous Sat-

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866

141

urday, saying: “This contest is to stand for a few days, we are told, owing to Mr. Bird’s absence from London.” This should probably be read as a statement that Bird had already been away several days, and one therefore judges that the second interval in the match almost certainly occurred after game 6 and lasted about a week. The score after seven games (3–2 to Steinitz with two draws) appeared in The Field on 13 October, but this was the one week in which Staunton had a more up-to-date score than his rival columnist. The Illustrated London News of the same date includes a reply to a correspondent that “since our last report each party has won a game” and gives the score as 4–2 to Steinitz with two draws. This means the seventh and eighth games had been played not later than the 11th of October.

211. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Match (7), Westminster Chess Club, ca. 8 October 1866 French Defense (C10) Bachmann (game 155); The Field and I.L.N., both 20 October 1866; T.C.W. II (November 1866), pages 267–268. Bird’s swindle at moves 20–22 unnerved Steinitz, who threw away a winning position.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 d×e4 4. N×e4 f5? 5. Ng5 Be7 6. N1h3 Nc6 7. Bb5 Nf6 8. 0–0 0–0 9. B×c6 b×c6 10. Nf4 Qd6 11. c4 c5 12. d×c5 Qc6 13. b4 Ng4 14. Nf3 Bf6 15. Rb1 g5 16. Nd3 e5 17. N×g5 f4 18. b5 Qe8 19. Ne4 Bf5 20. f3 N×h2!? 21. K×h2 Qh5† 22. Kg1 Rad8 23. Qe2?! Bh4 24. g4? f×g3 25. Bb2?? B×e4 26. Q×e4 Bg5 27. Qe2 Be3† 28. Nf2 All the English sources have this, but some databases follow Bachmann with 28. Rf2 Qh2† 29. Kf1 Qh1 mate. 28. … Qh2 mate (0–1). The following week (20 October) Boden said Steinitz had won another game to make the score +4 –2 =2, though he had not yet received the score, so he only published game 7 in that article. Game 8 was the longest in the match, at 66 moves. It is fairly evident from The Field that game 9 (in which Bird blundered his queen and lost in 12 moves) was played some time between Boden’s deadlines for the Saturday 20th article and for the 27th, although Staunton did not mention it until his column of 3 November. There was therefore probably another break of a week to 10 days between games 8 and 9. Some confirmation of this comes from The Era of 21 October saying “The continuation of this match is postponed for the present, both gentlemen, we believe, having left town.”52

212. H. E. Bird–Steinitz Match (8), Westminster Chess Club, ca. 9–10 October 1866 Ruy Lopez (C65) Bachmann (game 156); I.L.N., 20 October 1866; The Field, 27 October 1866; T.C.W., II (November 1866), pages 264–

Wallis Mackay’s sketch of Henry Edward Bird in MacDonnell’s first book Chess Life-Pictures.

267. The final phase of this game has been analyzed by Karsten Müller for a ChessBase DVD about world champions’ endgame play.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. d4 e×d4 5. 0–0 Be7 6. e5 Ne4 7. Re1 Nc5 8. N×d4 N×d4 9. Q×d4 0–0 10. Nc3 Kh8 11. Be3 Ne6 12. Qe4 f5 13. e×f6 B×f6 14. Bd3 g6 15. Rad1 c6 16.  Qb4 d5 17.  Be2 Be7 18.  Qb3 Nc5 19.  Bd4† Kg8 20.  B×c5 B×c5 21.  Bf3 Qb6 22.  Q×b6 a×b6 23.  a3 Bf5 24. Rd2 b5 25. g4 Bd7 26. Kg2 Rf7 27. Rd3 Raf8 28. Re2 Kg7 29.  b4 Bd6 30.  h3 Kh6 31.  Red2 Bf4 32.  Rd1 Kg7 33. Ne2 Bc7 34. Ng3 h5 35. R1d2 h×g4 36. B×g4 B×g4 37. h×g4 Kh6 38. Re2 Kg5 39. f3 Rh8 40. Nf1 Rfh7 41. Rde3 Rh1 42. Re8 R8h6 43. Rf8 Bd6 44. Rf7 Rh7 45. R×h7 R×h7 46. Re8 46. Re6, suggested by both Staunton and Boden, should maintain equality. 46. … Re7 47. R×e7 B×e7 48. Ne3 Bf6 49. Nd1 Kf4 50. Kf2 Bd4† 51. Ke2 b6 52. c3 Bf6 53. Kf2 c5 54. Ne3 (see diagram)

After 54. Ne3

wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw w0wDwgpD Dp0pDwDw w)wDwiPD )w)wHPDw wDwDwIwD DwDwDwDw

142

Steinitz in London

54. … d4? Because Bird could have saved the game after this, Steinitz should have played 54. … Ke5! The main line of Müller’s analysis then goes 55.  Ke2 Bg5 56.  Nc2 Bh6 57. Kd3 Bc1 58. Ne1 c4† 59. Kc2 Bg5 60. Ng2 Bd8 61. Kd1 d4 62. c×d4† K×d4 63. Kd2 Bf6 64. Kc2 Bg5 65. f4 Bd8 66. Kd2 Ke4 67. Ke2 Bc7 68. f5 g×f5 69. g×f5 Bd8 70. Ne3 Bf6 71. Nc2 K×f5 72. Ke3 Ke5 73. Kd2 Ke4 74. Ne1 Bg5† 75. Kc3 Bh4 76. Nc2 Bf6† 77. Kd2 Bb2 78. Ke2 Bc1 79. Kd1 Bg5 80. Ke2 Bf4. 55. Nd5† Ke5 56. N×f6 d×c3 57. Ke3? Here White missed the surprising resource 57. b×c5 c2 (not 57. … b×c5? 58. Ne4 and White will win) 58. c×b6 c1Q 59. b7 (Müller) which is drawn because the potential knight fork on d7 means that Black cannot prevent the b-pawn from promoting. 57. … K×f6 58. f4 c4 59. Ke2 Ke6 60. Kd1 Kd5 61. Kc2 Ke4 62. f5 g×f5 63. g×f5 K×f5 64. K×c3 Ke4 65. a4 b×a4 66. K×c4 b5† 0–1

213. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Match (9), Westminster Chess Club, approx. 22 October 1866 French Defense (C10) Bachmann (game 157); The Field, 27 October 1866; T.C.W. II (January 1867), page 337.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 d×e4 4. N×e4 Nc6 5. Nf3 Nf6 6. N×f6† Q×f6 7. Bg5 Qf5 8. Bd3 Qg4?? 9. h3 Q×g2 10. Rh2 Q×h2 11. N×h2 N×d4 12. Bb5† 1–0 At last Bird did indeed enjoy the long-awaited resurgence, winning two successive games and having chances in the drawn 12th game. Perhaps this can be seen as his having a good reaction to that ninth game disaster. It is hard to date the next few games. The match had probably reached 11 games, or maybe 12, by the end of October. The chess column of The Field (which on 27 October had given the score after nine games) did not appear on the 3rd of November, but the Newcastle Journal printed the following game, thanking Duffy, and said the score was Bird 4 Steinitz 5, not mentioning the two (or three) draws.

214. H. E. Bird–Steinitz Match (10), Westminster Chess Club, October 1866 Philidor Defense transposing to Ruy Lopez (C62) Bachmann (game 158); I.L.N., 3 November 1866; Newcastle Journal, 5 November; The Field, 10 November; T.C.W. II (December 1866), pages 299–300; Bird’s Modern Chess, pages 118–119.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 d6 3. d4 e×d4 4. Q×d4 Nc6 5. Bb5 Bd7 6. B×c6 B×c6 7. Nc3 Nf6 8. Bg5 Be7 9. 0–0–0 0–0 10. h3 Re8 11. Rhe1 h6 12. Bh4 Nd7 13. B×e7 Q×e7 Black has a typical Philidor Defense position where his spatial disadvantage is counterbalanced by the e-file pressure. Bird possibly rejected 14. Nd5 because of the resulting simplifications, and

decided instead on an artificial maneuver to shore up his epawn. 14. Nh2?! Nc5 Black is not tempted to play 14. … Qg5† because it is impossible to grab the g-pawn due to mate on g7 after, for example, 15. Re3 Q×g2?? 16. Rg3. 15. f3 f5!? Steinitz weakens his position with this move; in later years he might have preferred 15. … a5 or 15. … b5. 16. Nd5!? If 16. e×f5 Qg5† (Newcastle Journal). 16. … Qf7 17. e5 Ne6 18. Qc4 Nf8 18. … B×d5 19. Q×d5 Nf4 was better. 19. f4 Rad8 20. Nf3 Ng6 21. e6! This leads by force to simplifications and the creation of an outside passed pawn. 21. … R×e6 22. R×e6 B×d5 23. Q×d5 N×f4 24. Q×b7 N×e6 25. Q×a7 Nc5 26. b4 Newcastle Journal: “The pawns on White’s left wing are now very threatening.” 26. … Ne4 27. Kb2 Re8 28. Rd3 Re7 29. Qa8† Kh7 Newcastle Journal: “Contemplating …c5, by which he would gain the adverse b-pawn.” 30. Qd5 Qf6† 31. c3 Nf2? This wastes two tempi and it is unclear what Steinitz intended to achieve by it; better 31. … Ng3 32. a4 Ne2. 32. Rd2 Ne4 33. Rc2 g6 34. a4 While his opponent plays without a plan, Bird sends his passed pawn on the march. 34. … c5? Apparently Steinitz still dreams of opening lines against White’s king but he has seriously underestimated White’s chances. 35. b5 Now White has connected pawns and Steinitz’s next move, offering a pawn, is simply ignored. 35. … c4 36. Nd4 Nc5 37. a5 Qf8 38. Q×d6 Nd3† 39. Ka2 Nc1† 40. Kb1 Nd3 41. Re2 1–0

215. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Match (11), Westminster Chess Club, October 1866 French Defense (C14) Bachmann (game 159); The Field and I.L.N., both 10 November 1866; T.C.W. II (December 1866), pages 302– 304.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e5 Nfd7 6. B×e7 Q×e7 7. f4 a6 8. Nf3 c5 9. d×c5 N×c5 10. Qd2 b5 11. a3 Bb7 12. Nd4 Nc6 13. Be2 Qh4† 14. g3 Qe7 15. Bf3 Rc8 16. 0–0 0–0 17. Rae1 Rfd8 18. f5? The New York Albion, 1 December 1866, says that “Steinitz made this move under the erroneous impression that he could afterwards capture the d-pawn, which would however have cost him a piece.” 18.  … N×d4 19.  Q×d4 e×f5 20.  Qb4 g6 21.  Re2 d4 22.  Nd1 B×f3 23.  R×f3 Qb7 24.  Rf1 Ne4 25.  Qb3 Re8 26.  Qf3 R×e5 27.  Nf2 Rce8 28.  Rfe1 Qe7 29.  Qg2 Re6 30. Nd3 Qb7 31. Nf4 R6e7 32. Nd3 h5 33. Rd1 Qb6 34. Rde1 Kg7 35. h3 Qd6 36. g4 Kh7 37. b4 h4 38. Nc1 Ng3 39. R×e7 R×e7 40. Qf2 R×e1† 41. Q×e1 Qc6 42. g×f5 g×f5 43. Nb3 Qd5 44. Nc5 Qh1† 45. Kf2 Ne4† 46. Ke2 Qg2† 47. Kd1 Qf3† 48. Kc1 Q×a3† 49. Kd1 Q×h3 50. N×e4 Qg4† 51. Kc1 f×e4 52. Qf2 Qg5† 53. Kb1 f5 As in English sources and the Albion but Bachmann, Hooper, and several databases have 53. … h3 54. Q×d4 f5 instead. 54. Q×d4 h3 55. Qa7† Kh6 56. Q×a6† Qg6 57. Qc8 Kh5 58. Qc3 Qg1† 59. Kb2 h2 60. Qh8† Kg4 61. Qg7† Kf3 62. Qc3† Qe3 63. Qh8 Kg2 0–1

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866

216. H. E. Bird–Steinitz Match (12), Westminster Chess Club, 1866 Ruy Lopez (C65) Bachmann (game 160); I.L.N. and The Field, both 17 November 1866; T.C.W. II (December 1866), pages 306– 308. This game was probably played in late October or the first week of November.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. d4 e×d4 5. e5 Ne4 6. 0–0 a6 7. Ba4 Nc5 8. c3 N×a4 9. Q×a4 b5 10. Qc2 d×c3 11. N×c3 Be7 12. Nd5 Bb7 13. Bd2 h6 14. Rfe1 0–0 15. Qf5 f6 16. B×h6 f×e5 17. Qg6 Rf7 18. Re4 Qf8 19. Bg5 R×f3 20. g×f3 B×g5 21. Q×g5 Re8 22. Rae1 Re6 23. N×c7 Rh6 24. Rg4 Kh7 25. Ne8 Nd4 26. Q×g7† Q×g7 27. R×g7† Kh8 28. Rg3 N×f3† 29. R×f3 B×f3 30. R×e5 Rg6† 31. Kf1 Rc6 32. Ke1 Rc2 33. Re3 Bg4 34. f3 Be6 35. Re2 R×e2† 36. K×e2 B×a2 37. b4 Bd5 38. f4 Bc6 39. Ke3 Kg8 40. Kd4 Kf7 41. Nc7 Bb7 42. Kc5 Kf6 43. Kb6 Bf3 44. K×a6 Kf5 45. K×b5 Bc6† 46. Kc5 K×f4 47. b5 Kg4 48. b6 Kh3 49. Nd5 K×h2 50. Nb4 Ba8 51. Kd6 Kg3 52. K×d7 Kf4 53. Kc7 Ke5 54. Kd7 Kd4 55. Kc7 Kc5 56. Nd3† ½–½. This last move is not given by Staunton in his publications but it is in The Field (albeit misprinted “Kt to Q6 ch.”) and in Bachmann. In Boden’s next article, for The Field on 10 November, he wrote that “this match has been much augmented in interest by the steadiness with which Mr. Bird has played the last few games.” The score had now advanced to 6 –4 =4 in favor of Steinitz. This implies that game 14 had been played not later than 8 November. Staunton’s column of the same date did not have the fourth draw.

217. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Match (13), Westminster Chess Club, November 1866 French Defense (C01) Bachmann (game 161); I.L.N., 10 November 1866; The Field, 17 November 1866; T.C.W. II (December 1866), pages 300–301.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e×d5 e×d5 6. Bd3 Bg4 7. f3 Be6 8. Nge2 c5 9. d×c5 B×c5 10. Qd2 Nbd7 11. Bb5 Be7 12. 0–0–0 0–0 13. B×d7 N×d7 14. B×e7 Q×e7 15. Nf4 Nb6 16. Rhe1 Rfd8 17. Qe3 Nc4 18. Nf×d5 Qf8 19. Qf4 B×d5 20. N×d5 R×d5 21. R×d5 Qb4 22. Re4 Q×b2† 23. Kd1 Qb1† 24. Ke2 Q×c2† 25. Ke1 b5 26. Rd7 Rf8 27. R×f7 Qb1† 28. Kf2 Q×a2† 29. Kg3 Qa3 30. R×f8† Q×f8 31. Qg5 Qd6† 32. Kh3 Qd7† 33. g4 h6 34. Qg6 Nd6 35. Rd4 Qb7 36. Q×d6 Q×f3† 37. Qg3 Qf6 38. Qd3 a5 39. Rd8† Kf7 40. Qd5† 1–0

143

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. d4 N×d4 5. N×d4 e×d4 6. e5 c6 7. 0–0 c×b5 8. Bg5 Be7 9. e×f6 B×f6 10. Re1† Kf8 11. B×f6 Q×f6 12. Qe2 Boden: “The opening of this game is very ingenious and original on Mr. Bird’s part and he has now a decided advantage in position; he would have done better still, probably, here to play P to QB3 [c2–c3].” 12. … g6 13. Nd2 d6 14. Q×b5 a6 15. Qd5 Bf5 16. Ne4 B×e4 17. R×e4 Kg7 18. g3 Rac8 19. Rf4 Qe6 20. Q×b7 R×c2 21. Rd1 Q×a2 22. b3 Rf8 23. Qd5 ½–½

219. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Match (15), Westminster Chess Club, November 1866 French Defense (C01) Bachmann (game 163) has an incorrect score. This game was the only one of the match that was never published in The Field. The primary sources are: I.L.N., 24 November 1866, T.C.W. II (December 1866), pages 304–305, and Bird’s Modern Chess, pages 121–122. They all agree that Black’s 22nd move was QR to K1 (Ra8–e8). A simple misprint, or wrong transcription from descriptive notation, by Bachmann has been followed by Hooper, ChessBase, Gelo, Renette etc. Curiously, Pickard has the right move in his book but not in his database.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e×d5 e×d5 6. Bd3 0–0 7. Nf3 Bg4 8. 0–0 Nc6 9. Ne2 Ne4 10. Be3 f5 11. c3 Kh8 12. Nf4 Qd6 13. h3 g5 14. N×d5 B×f3 15. g×f3 Q×d5 16. f×e4 f×e4 17. Be2 Bd6 Staunton claimed 17. … Rf3 would have won, but Renette indicates 18. Kg2!, meeting 18. … Raf8 by 19. Rh1 R3f7 20. Qb3, and 18. … g4 by 19. h×g4! Rg8 20. Rh1. 18. Bg4 Qf7 19. Qe2 Qg6 20. Rae1 Qg8 21. c4 Qg7 22. Rd1 Rae8 (see diagram)

After 22. … Rae8

wDwDr4wi 0p0wDw1p wDngwDwD DwDwDw0w wDP)pDBD DwDwGwDP P)wDQ)wD DwDRDRIw

218. H. E. Bird–Steinitz

23. c5 Bf4 24. d5 B×e3 25. d×c6 B×c5 26. c×b7 Qe5 27. Qc4 h5 Staunton was right to say this was the only move to save the game. Renette’s criticism at this point (and some of his other notes towards the end) are incorrect because they arose from analyzing the wrong position. 28. Bc8 Qg3† 29. Kh1 Qf3† 30. Kh2 Qf4† 31. Kh1 Qf3† 32. Kh2 Qf4† ½–½

Match (14), Westminster Chess Club, November 1866 Ruy Lopez (C65) Bachmann (game 162); The Field, 24 November 1866; I.L.N. 29 December 1867; T.C.W. II (January 1867), page 337.

After those two draws, it began to appear that Bird had an outside chance of victory. This became more real in the next game, when Steinitz experienced a serious setback. For

144

Steinitz in London

the second time in this match, he blundered in a winning position and was now only one point ahead, the score being +6 –5 =5 to Steinitz.53

220. H. E. Bird–Steinitz Match (16), Westminster Chess Club, 14? November 1866 Ruy Lopez (C84) Bachmann (game 164); The Field, 1 December 1866; the blunders in this game, especially Black’s 17th move, occasioned some of the choicest examples of Staunton’s sarcasm in both I.L.N., 29 December 1866, and T.C.W. II (January 1867), pages 338–339.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. d4 e×d4 5. e5 Ne4 6. 0–0 a6 7. Ba4 Be7 8. c3?! d×c3 9. b×c3 0–0 10. Qd5 Nc5 11. Bc2 b6 12. Be3 Bb7 13. B×c5 B×c5 14. e6? d×e6! 15. B×h7† K×h7 16.  Qh5† Kg8 17.  Ng5 Re8?? 17.  … Qd3 (Staunton). 18. Q×f7† Kh8 19. Qh5† Kg8 20. Qh7† Kf8 21. Qh8† Ke7 22. Q×g7† 1–0 The conclusion of the match came abruptly, and too late for the columns on 17 November. Both editors both reported on the 24th that Steinitz’s opponent had been sent on urgent business to America. Bird was an accountant specializing in railroad finance and it was this work which had necessitated the earlier breaks in the match since Bird sometimes had to travel to other parts of England. He had visited North America (both Canada and the U.S.A.) on business at least twice previously in the 1860s. He was now summoned, on behalf of his employer Coleman, Turquand, Youngs and Company to investigate a problem with the Atlantic and Great Western Railway Company in Pennsylvania, which had already taken much of his time in 1865 and was to do so again in the next few years.54 It was Bird himself who, 19 years after the event, finally gave his explanation of what happened to curtail the match: When the 17th [sic] game was in progress I received a telegram requesting my earliest attendance in America on business of our firm, and at their request I started two days afterwards. To oblige Mr. Steinitz I started the 18th [sic] game, but was unable to proceed further with it, and my stakes were paid over for me by Mr. P. T. Duffy, my colleague and a representative of our firm, who had full authority to act on my behalf at his own discretion.55

Mackenzie wrote in his chess column for The Albion, 1 December 1866, that last Tuesday (i.e., 27 November), Bird had “agreeably surprised” New York Chess Club members by putting in an appearance, having just arrived on the Scotia.56 Bird told Mackenzie the match stood adjourned until his return to London; although Steinitz had claimed the stakes by then, Bird had not yet heard the news. A probable dating of the last two games in the match can be calculated on the basis of column deadlines and the known date of Bird’s departure. As he said above, Bird did set off within two days of receiving the telegram. The Cunard liner Scotia, the last of the paddle-steamers to hold the Blue

Riband for the fastest crossing, had docked in Liverpool on Saturday, 10 November and was due to depart on the 17th, so it is natural that when Bird received his urgent summons he booked a passage on this vessel. To be sure of being in Liverpool on time, he would have needed to travel there by train on the 16th. The Scotia did indeed sail on the 17th, after being saved from disaster the previous day.57

221. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Match (17), Westminster Chess Club, (not later than) 15 November 1866 French Defense (C00) Bachmann (game 165); The Field, 1 December 1866; I.L.N., 5 January 1867; T.C.W. II (January 1867), pages 339–340.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 g6 3. Nf3 Nc6 4. d5 Nce7 5. d×e6 d×e6 6. Q×d8† K×d8 7. Nc3 Nc6 8. Bf4 f6 9. 0–0–0† Bd7 10. Bb5 h5 11. e5 f5 12. Rd2 Ke8 13. Rhd1 Rh7 14. Ng5 Bh6 15. B×c6 b×c6 16. Na4 Adjourned and never resumed (1–0). On 1 December, when he published the last two games, Boden commented that it “remains unfinished, though not undecided as White has a winning position.” This was no exaggeration but naturally Bird had other matters on his mind that day. The final score was thus Steinitz 7 (some say 6, not counting the last game), Bird 5 and 5 draws. With the required total to win being either 10 or 11 games, depending on which account you believe, there might have still been about a third of the match to go if it were to be resumed after Bird’s return. In his book, Bird says that: Before departing Mr. Bird proposed to play out the match and his return about Christmas, and is said to have offered his opponent a very substantial honorarium if he would consent to this arrangement. As the game had already lasted many weeks, however, the latter very naturally insisted upon the forfeiture of the stakes, in default of the battle being fought out at once, and so the contest is over.58

The third person statement “is said to have offered” money to postpone the match is curious: did Bird not know whether the offer was made? Did he mean Duffy used his aforementioned discretion to make the offer on his own initiative while Bird was at sea? Secondly, there was never any realistic prospect of Bird’s being back in London by Christmas. His business in America took him not only to New York but also Pennsylvania, another day’s travel in each direction, and how much time did Bird need to spend on his investigations, which presumably involved auditing books and interviewing people? This would appear to have been at least three weeks’ work. Maybe he did believe at first that he could be home by 25 December. Perhaps he had promised his wife Eliza he would try, especially as she was seriously ill, as was his father.59 Mackenzie reported that Bird, after a final visit to the chess club, left New York on the Cuba on 27 December so he was probably not back in London until at earliest the 6th of January 1867. Mackenzie also said:

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 We learn that in all probability another match will be arranged between Herr Steinitz and Mr. Bird. The former apparently will not be allowed to rest on his laurels, as he has also been challenged by Herr G. R. Neumann, the friend and rival of Anderssen.60

Boden certainly seems to have reckoned Bird would not be home “about Christmas” when he reported in The Field of 24 November that his friend’s “professional engagements had called him abroad for an absence of probably a couple of months” and that Bird had therefore resigned the match in favor of Steinitz, counting the 17th game as won for Steinitz: This abrupt termination of the contest is all the more disappointing to the lovers of hard chess play … because Mr. Bird was “pulling up” his play with every game; though Mr. Steinitz, as it seemed to me, was not working with quite the same pains and energy wherewith he opposed the redoubtable Anderssen.

Staunton and Duffy took a much harsher view of Steinitz’s insistence on claiming the stakes. They sympathized with Bird and thought he should have been allowed to adjourn the match. Staunton set the tone: The Match between Messrs. Steinitz and Bird.—The course of chessmatches, like that of true love, seems rarely to run smooth. Since our last notice of the above contest—when the score stood, Bird, 5; Steinitz, 6: and 5 games drawn—the play has been brought to an abrupt close, and will not, it is said, be again resumed. Mr. Bird, it appears, has been obliged by urgent business to leave England for America; but, as his return is not likely to be delayed beyond the end of next month, he endeavoured to make arrangements with his opponent for concluding the match at that time. The latter, however, considering that the struggle had been sufficiently protracted, and finding, perhaps, that it was becoming unpleasantly close, has declined an armistice and claimed the stakes. We are not aware that any fixed time was agreed upon for the duration of the match, but we are told that Mr. Steinitz’s demand will not be disputed, and that the contest may, therefore, considered at an end.61

This viewpoint received support in a letter sent to a Tyneside newspaper “from our London correspondent,” probably Duffy who had not long since moved to London from that region to take up a post in the same accountancy firm that employed Bird: The increasing interest, stimulated by the close nature of the struggle, with which the match between Mr. Bird and Herr Steinitz, the professional player, had come to be regarded, has met but a poor reward in the abrupt termination of the contest a few days ago. Mr. Bird has been obliged to leave England for America, on urgent business, and before his departure proposed to his antagonist that, the match should stand over until his return in December. As it is alleged that there had been no stipulation respecting time either for playing or concluding the match, this does not appear a very unreasonable proposal. Herr Steinitz, however, claimed the stakes in default of the match being played out without delay, and as it was impossible to comply with this condition Mr. Bird resigned. This unsatisfactory termination has occasioned considerable discussion and comment in Metropolitan Chess Circles, and a very general regret prevails that the match cannot he played to a decisive result. In these comments the truth of the old adage, “Many men, many minds,” have been amply

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confirmed; some holding that Herr Steinitz is right in the course he has adopted, others that at the best he is technically so. For my part, as I have never expected the prosaic age in which we live to be signalised by such a miracle as an exhibition of the old chivalry of chess on the part of professional players. I am free to admire the prudence of Herr Steinitz’s decision. Delay is proverbially dangerous, and the state of the score, coupled with Mr. Bird’s play in the latter part of this match, warranted the inference that might prove peculiarly so to his opponent. London, 26th November, 1866.62

More than 20 years later, Steinitz recalled that he wrote to Staunton “privately and politely” more than once to complain about “misstatements of facts” and asked for the insertion of a correction. Then “in a personal conversation on the subject in which I had asked him whether the letter I had sent for publication in the Illustrated London News would be inserted in that journal, he gave an evasive and even a threatening answer.” Ultimately Steinitz succeeded in having it published on 8 December.63 This is the text of that letter: Sir,—Will you allow me to correct some erroneous statements which appeared in your columns of the 24th ult. respecting the score and the stipulations of my match with Mr. Bird. The final score, when Mr. Bird left for America, was—Myself, 7; Mr. Bird, 5; and 5 draws. There had been a stipulation, made in the first instance, practically limiting the duration of the match, as it had been arranged that four games a week should be played at least. This condition had been relaxed at the request of Mr. Bird, who had to attend pressing business, and adjournments had taken place by mutual consent from time to time. But, as the match had been protracted already for two months and a half, I had not alone an undoubted right to claim the victory on Mr. Bird’s departure for America, but I was bound in honour and duty not to ignore my backer’s interest, especially as the latter had left it entirely to my own discretion to decide the question of a further adjournment; and I therefore claimed the stakes, with the full approbation of all the parties concerned in the match. Mr. Bird very chivalrously accepted my proposal of giving him his revenge in another contest on his return from America, which I hope will prove a fairer test of our relative strength than the last one. Mr. Bird had evidently been very much out of play at the commencement of the last match, and would, in consequence, have had to fight against the disadvantage of being two games behind in the score if the match had been resumed; whereas, in a fresh contest, he will start even.—Yours obediently, William Steinitz.

Staunton always liked the last word and added his own comments immediately below. He denied that the statements referred to were erroneous, and then reprinted the above article from the Shields Daily News. Not content with this, the following week Staunton inserted into his column an article deprecating “Professionalism” in general, which began as follows. At that time Steinitz had no column of his own and was too poor to sue for libel. PROFESSIONALISM. On more than one occasion we have deprecated the spirit of professionalism which of late years has crept into and debased our favourite game. Nowadays, the cause of chess is nothing, courtesy is nothing, justice and honour are nothing, victory is everything. Win the game, by whatever means, but sure and win it is the professional players’ paraphrase of Horace’s old saw. The existence of professional players—we beg pardon, “public players” (such being

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Steinitz in London

the euphemism by which their Coryphaeus is pleased to designate them)—has undoubtedly done much to lower the tone and character of the game of chess….64

Bird, when he eventually read Steinitz’s letter, did not believe Steinitz’s assertion that he was “bound in honour and duty not to ignore my backer’s interest.” On the contrary, he wrote many years later: “The gentleman who backed Mr. Steinitz said that he would have much preferred the match being played out, and has no recollection of giving authority for the stakes to be demanded.”65 If, as is likely, Steinitz’s backer was the same man (Forster) who had put up his stake for the Anderssen match and treated Steinitz so generously, it is certainly possible that Bird spoke with him on his return to England, but we cannot damn Steinitz on hearsay. Probably he thought it unreasonable for Bird to expect him to wait indefinitely. It is possible that Steinitz needed the money urgently, as Renette has suggested, but that is less likely in late 1866 than at many other times of Steinitz’s life. He had just recently made more money than he would do again until 1873 when he won the Vienna tournament and was appointed Chess Editor of The Field. His share of the stakes for beating Anderssen was £50 and in September he had won another £20 for first prize in the Handicap tournament. This £70 was, in purchasing power, equivalent to at least £6,370 in today’s money.66 Steinitz surely had not spent it all yet, or had fatherhood proved expensive? In the long run, would he not have been better off accepting the honorarium and probably, eventually at some distant date in 1867, winning the stake money too?67 During the match, Steinitz had also received some compensation money (presumably at least £15 worth) when business obliged Bird to postpone games. In his 1880 Retrospect, Bird wrote: “Steinitz, of course, received the stakes, and also presents equivalent thereto, for adjournments, but there was an understanding that he should play me a return match on the first convenient occasion. But this engagement he has never fulfilled.” Boden had already noted in The Field of 1 December 1866 that Steinitz had offered a re-match in the New Year, and Steinitz admitted this in his letter to the Illustrated London News. In Steinitz’s defense, however, we can say that he was probably not entirely to blame for the re-match not being played. Bird had to go back to the States in 1867 and his virtual absence from the chessboard until 1871 may have been the deciding factor. We shall see in later chapters that there were times in 1868 and 1869 when Steinitz would probably have been glad to play a tough match, in the absence of any other serious competition in those years. Bird made no negative comments, at least in public, about Steinitz’s behavior at the time. On the contrary, when he did write about the matter in his Retrospect, Bird said he did not sympathize with the complaints made against Steinitz and “could not see what right at the time Staunton, the committee

of the Westminster Chess Club, or anyone else had to complain.” It is possible to be somewhat sceptical about Bird’s claims of remaining on good terms with Steinitz. In the Retrospect he says: “I remained therefore on very good terms with Steinitz, but these circumstances, nevertheless, I believe, always left an unpleasant feeling on his mind.” One suspects that the unpleasant feeling was more in Bird’s mind. In 1885, in Modern Chess, he wrote: “To prevent misconception I may add that the relations between Steinitz and myself and the play throughout was of a perfectly harmonious character, scarcely less so than in my former friendly match with Falkbeer in 1859, and my later one, in 1873, with Wisker.” What rankled with Bird over the years to come was that he never was granted a revenge match and his later behavior at the end of the Vienna 1882 tournament was partly motivated by this, as well as an incident in an earlier round and another in 1880 which will be explained later. By 1890, when he wrote his pamphlet Bird’s Chess Reviews, in reaction to the publication of the Modern Chess Instructor, the tone of his remarks about Steinitz were scathing. Already in Chapter 2 a mild passage was quoted in which Bird hints that Steinitz may not have fully acknowledged the assistance Bird rendered him in his early years in Britain. He also pointed out that the assistance of Forster and Hewitt, in particular, were “of incalculable advantage to him” in arranging the match with Anderssen. Longer extracts from the Reviews may be found in Appendix VII, but a few choice phrases are worth quoting here. It includes, in various places, the following sentences: His pre-eminency at Business Chess, as distinguished from Recreationary and Amusement Chess, which he always avoids, is frankly and unequivocally admitted by the half-a-dozen players closest to him in this respect…. Although the attitude assumed by the author towards British Chess, to which he owes so much, together with the presumptuous tone of his work, and the spirit of his criticisms [may seem to justify indignation] … I have no desire to emulate either the minuteness, style, or pretensions of his analysis, or the known bitterness of his criticisms when opportunity calls them into play…. After [the Anderssen match and Bird’s own match], even at this early period, Steinitz’s love of self-assertion began to disclose itself…. My intention, however, is to rather to say a few words about Steinitz’s Chess criticisms, his Chess book, and his analysis, and not about his personality, his manners, or his amiability…. I am tempted to strike out the word Mr. all through when applied to Steinitz, and restore him to his native Herr. A punishment has been more than once suggested for Mr. Steinitz, almost too horrible to mention…. To remit him to his native country.

By 1893, and for a wider audience, Bird changed his tone again when writing about his old rival in Chess History and Reminiscences. Now he preferred to tell anecdotes and jokes about Steinitz (on pages 122 and 123) and elsewhere in that book he even had some good things to say about him. So, ultimately, it was not the wrath of Bird that Steinitz needed to fear when he too hastily called an end to their match, but instead the xenophobic and devious envy of Staunton.

5. Dethroning Anderssen, 1866 On 5 January 1867, Staunton published the final game of the Bird match in the Illustrated London News. He commented that Steinitz’s performance in this match showed that he had only beaten Anderssen because the Prussian master was “out of condition.” He added that if Anderssen had played as poorly against Kolisch, Paulsen or Harrwitz as he had done against Steinitz, then he would not have scored a single game. More wounding was Staunton’s campaign to have Steinitz expelled from the Westminster Chess Club, which will be recounted early in the next chapter.

Other Games in 1866 A few other games by Steinitz dating from late 1866 are known, though three are not in Bachmann; they were probably played during breaks in the Bird match. The first of these was published only many years later. The opponent, John Lord, had lived in London but afterwards moved to Lancashire. It was annotated in the Rossendale Free Press on 21 March 1891 by “Mr. Lord of Stacksteads, our local champion.” It had previously been published by MacDonnell, but with an incorrect name for the winner: “Chess in London. An extremely interesting and beautiful game in which Herr Steinitz gave Mr. Law [sic] the odds of pawn and two moves.”68

222. J. Lord–Steinitz Pawn and two move odds, Simpson’s Divan, October 1866 Remove Black’s f-pawn

1. e4 AND 2. d4 e6 3. Bd3 c5 4. d×c5 Qa5† 5. Bd2 Q×c5 6. a3 Lord: “Not without a purpose and departing from the books.” 6. … Nc6 7. Nc3 Nf6 8. f4 Better was 8. Be3 according to MacDonnell. 8. … d6 9. Qe2 a6 9. … Be7 I.S.D.N. 10. Nf3 Be7 11. e5 Lord: “The beginning of an attack which is sustained to the end.” 11. … d×e5 12. f×e5 Nd5 13. Ne4 Qb6 14. c4 Nc7 15. Nd6† Kd7 Lord said this was best as 15. … B×d6 16. e×d6 would have cost a piece. 16. Be3 Qa5† 17. b4 N×b4? 18. 0–0 Nc6 Lord: “Black has now recovered his pawn, but time and position are against him.” 19. c5 Nd5 20.  Nc4 Qd8 21.  Rad1 Kc7 22.  Be4 Nc3 23.  Qc2 N×d1 24. R×d1 Qe8 25. Qb3 “Mr. Steinitz said when the game was over that 25. Nd6 should have been played here.” 25. … Bd7 26. Qb6† Kc8 27. Rd6! Lord: “The game is now exceedingly interesting, even to the last move.” 27. … a5? 27. … Bd8 (I.S.D.N.) 28. Nd4 Ra6 29. N×c6 R×b6 30. N×b6† Kc7 31. N×e7 Bb5 32. a4 Q×e7 33. a×b5 Rd8 34. Nc4 Qh4 Lord: “Of course he had no time to play …R×d6.” 35. Bd2 R×d6 If 35. … Q×e4 36. B×a5†, Lord pointed out, adding: “He might have played … b6, giving up a pawn, but with no benefit to his game I think.” 36. e×d6† Kd7 37. Nb6† Ke8 37. … Kd8 38. c6 (Lord). 38. d7† Ke7 39. c6 b×c6 Lord: “It is sin-

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gular that all this while the Bishop cannot be taken.” 40. b×c6 Q×e4 41. Nc8† Kf7 42. Nd6† 1–0

223. The Rev. S. W. Earnshaw–Steinitz Birmingham? (1), October 1866 Queen’s Gambit (D30) It is known that there was a time during Steinitz’s match with Bird, when it was said that both players were out of town, so this game and the next were probably played in October. The Birmingham Journal, 24 November 1866, published “two of a series of games recently played between the Rev. S. W. Earnshaw, of the Birmingham Club, and Herr Steinitz.”69

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Bf4 This move, which was first introduced by Herr Harrwitz, is a very forcible move. 3. … c5 4. e3 Nc6 5. Nc3 c×d4 6. e×d4 White would have gained nothing by playing instead 6. Nb5 on account of 6. … Qa5†. 6. … d×c4 7. Nf3 Bd6 Herr Steinitz wisely cuts off the range of this B, as it threatened to become very troublesome. 8. Bg3 Although White loses time by playing thus, he opens a file for his KR. 8. … B×g3 9. h×g3 Qb6 10. Rb1 Bd7 11. B×c4 Nf6 12. a3 0–0 13. Bd3 Rfd8 The youngest player cannot fail to see that taking White’s QP would have cost Black at least a clear piece. 14. Qc2 h6 15. Rd1 Rac8 16. Qb1 Be8 17. Rh4 This was an error which eventually cost White the game. It was suggested by a strong player, when the game was over, that White would have done better by pushing his QP instead. 17. … Kf8 18. Bc2 Ng8 19. Qc1 g5 20. N×g5 This is altogether unsound, now that Black’s K Kt has returned to his own square. 20. … h×g5 21. Q×g5 f6 22. Qe3 Q×b2 23. Bh7 N×d4 24. Rg4 R×c3 25. R×g8† Kf7 26. Qh6 This is a blind effort of despair only. 26. … Nf3† Curiously enough Herr Steinitz overlooked a mate on the move. 27. g×f3 R×d1† 28. K×d1 Ba4† 29. Ke1 Qa1† 30. Kd2 If 30. Ke2 Qd1 mate. 30. … Qc1† 31. Ke2 Qd1 mate (0–1).

224. Steinitz–The Rev. S. W. Earnshaw Birmingham? (2), October 1866 Evans Gambit (C51) Notes from the Birmingham Journal, 24 November 1866, which said Steinitz moved first with the Black pieces.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. Nc3 Na5 “We take this to be the best defence at present known to the Evans Gambit.” 10. Bd3 Bg4 “This is an inferior move, because, when the hostile Kt is taken off, White (i.e., Earnshaw) lays himself open to the full fire of Black’s (i.e., Steinitz’s) KR. 10. … Ne7 is a far better move.” 11. Ne2 B×f3 12. g×f3 Qf6 “The Queen should have marched at once to h4.” 13. f4 0–0–0 “Earnshaw selected this move, thinking his K would be comparatively secure from attack, since Black’s (i.e., Steinitz’s) Pawns on the Q’s side are so much broken. If instead 13. … B×d4 he

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Steinitz in London

would have lost at least a piece.” 14. Bb2 Qh4 15. Kh1 Nf6 16. f3 Rhg8 17. Ng3 “Very well played. If 17. … Q×f4 he will lose the exchange, e.g., 18. Bc1 Qh4 19. Nf5.” 17. … g6 18. Qd2 d5 19. e5 Nh5 20. N×h5 Q×h5 “Although by playing thus (Earnshaw) preserved his Pawns unbroken, he ought to have taken with P and so brought his KR into excellent play, although at the cost of a Pawn.” 21. Bc3 Nc6 22. Bb5 Ne7 23. a4 c6 24. Bd3 a6 “This turned out to be a very weak move. 24. … Rge8 would perhaps have been better.” 24. … Nf5! 25. a5 Bc7 26. Rab1 Nf5 27. Rf2 “This is not only defensive, but exceedingly attacking at the same time.” 27. … Rd7 28. Qb2 Ne7 “This deplorable move is about the best at (Earnshaw’s) command.” 29. Q×b7† Kd8 30. B×a6 Ke8 31. Qa8† Rd8 32. Qa7 Qf5 33. Rb7 Nc8 34. Qc5 Kd7 35. Rfb2 “Threatening to take the B for nothing on his next move.” 35. … Rde8 36. R×c7† K×c7 37. Rb7† Kd8 38. Rb8 Kc7 39. R×c8† R×c8 “R or Q takes R” 40. Qd6 mate (1–0).

225. Dr. J. B. Murphy–Steinitz Pawn and move odds, London, 1866 (or 1867?) Remove Black’s f-pawn Published in C.P.M., ns 2 (1867), pages 120–121, but with no details of when or where played. Bachmann (game 134) says “London 1866” and that White was Dr. Murphy. Other references suggest his name was Joseph B. Murphy, the only prominent English amateur with that surname in the nineteenth century. The game could possibly have

been played in early 1867 but Steinitz was in Scotland for much of January and February that year.

1. e4 Nc6 2. d4 e5 3. d×e5 N×e5 4. f4 Nf7 5. Bc4 Ngh6 6. Nf3 Bc5 7. Qd5 Qe7 8. Nc3 c6 9. Qd3 d5 10. Bb3 Bf5 11. B×d5 c×d5 12. Qb5† Bd7 13. Q×b7 0–0 14. Q×d5 Be6 15. Qd1 Bc4 16. b3 Rad8 17. Bd2 Ba6 18. e5 N×e5 19. f×e5 Q×e5† 20. Ne2 R×f3 21. g×f3 B×e2 22. f4 Qe4 0–1 To sum up his 1866, Steinitz, after a poor start, enjoyed his first truly great success in defeating Anderssen. This, together with other winnings in the second half of the year, brought him some temporary prosperity, to be balanced by his new paternal responsibilities. The money would be welcome but it would all be spent in the end. Just as important to him was that the level of chess activity in Britain and Europe was increasing again and new opportunities would arise. His reputation as a player was his highest yet. Professor Edwards’s Edochess historical rankings place Steinitz third on that year’s list with a rating of 2646 and the players in first, second, and fourth positions (Morphy, Kolisch and Louis Paulsen) had been inactive that year. Yet there was a shadow over him. Steinitz remained an outsider, excluded from all the principal tournaments played in England until 1872. The clash with Staunton that followed the match with Bird would end with Steinitz parting company with the Westminster Club the following year.

6. Paris and Dundee, 1867 In 1867, for the first time ever, two international chess tournaments were held in the same year. Steinitz participated in both with some success, but not as much as he would have hoped or expected. He had to be satisfied with third prize in Paris and second in Dundee a few weeks later. The competition this year was the most intense since 1862, since it saw the swansong of Kolisch (victor in Paris), the peak of Neumann’s career, the return of Blackburne and the arrival of the Polish businessman Szymon Winawer (1838–1920), who made his entry on the world stage. He was the real surprise of Paris and became one of Steinitz’s greatest rivals. De Vere, who also contested both 1867 tournaments, was still an opponent to be reckoned with—on the days when he could be bothered to play properly. Meanwhile the question of a possible match with Neumann was hanging in the air, perhaps because of a lack of interest from possible backers and because he was not well known in England. In August 1866, when Steinitz was just one game from victory, Walker (who had good contacts in Germany) had written that should Steinitz succeed, “We trust Anderssen’s chivalrous friend, Herr Neumann, may be tempted to visit England to redeem the Prussian laurel.”1 Perhaps that encouraged Neumann to issue his first challenge to Steinitz by writing to Löwenthal asking for help to arrange a contest. The text of his letter was published on page 287 of the August/September 1866 number of the Neue Berliner Schachzeitung. In rough translation, it began: Mr. Löwenthal in London. With the high reputation that you enjoy among English chess players, you will probably be able to arrange a match between Mr. Steinitz and myself under the same conditions as Steinitz and Anderssen. This would oblige me greatly.

As proof of his playing strength, should potential backers in England require it, Löwenthal could mention that Neumann had won all his 50 tournament games in two recent events in Germany—but this was hardly likely to impress the London clubs, who probably thought they could muster a dozen of their members who could win those events. They would have remembered that Neumann had lost a match to Paulsen in 1864. Walker seems to have been the only English writer to recognize that Neumann was now a stronger player

and believe a match with Steinitz would be interesting. Steinitz himself might have been willing, but he was then busy playing Bird and would not be free to play a match even if one could be arranged. Probably he could have found backers if the match looked of sufficient interest to prosperous London amateurs, though Steinitz’s claiming the stakes against Bird had possibly alienated Forster and other potential well-wishers. Also Neumann probably overestimated the influence of Löwenthal which was hardly equal to Staunton’s countervailing power. Only after Neumann’s good showing in Paris the following summer, followed by his victory in Dundee, would his reputation have been high enough to interest English backers.

Exit from the Westminster Club As noted in the last chapter, Staunton had, at the formation of the Westminster Chess Club, welcomed a rule in the club’s constitution (expressly formulated by him probably) that any applicant for membership could be vetoed by a single member of the committee. This cannot have been aimed at Steinitz (or he could never have become a member). Before the Bird match, Staunton probably respected Steinitz even if he disliked him, and the desire to be involved in the Anderssen match was a big factor. After the conclusion of that match, it was a different story. Staunton definitely had at least one particular foreign enemy in mind, and probably Löwenthal was another. When Edward Löwe died, readers of Land and Water were reminded:

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He once beat Staunton in a match at pawn and two moves, an act of audacity which, in the eyes of the eminent English expert, was most intolerable and not to be endured, especially as Lowe expected to be paid the amount played for. Hence a certain blackball, which excluded Lowe from the Westminster Chess Club, was supposed to be of an ascertainable parentage, an idea which seemed to be confirmed when Mr. Lowe was elected a member of the same society after Mr. Staunton’s retirement therefrom.2

150

Steinitz in London

In a polemical article Steinitz wrote for International Chess Magazine in 1888, he listed several things that Staunton had held against him. Firstly, “owing to my having in private conversation expressed myself in the strongest terms about his (Staunton’s) conduct against Morphy.” He said he was “still proud of the courage which enabled me to make such a move in the Gambit of life as to address ‘strong language’ to this almighty editorial Staunton in a club room.” Secondly, Steinitz “had committed the crime” of defeating in a match Professor Anderssen, “then undoubtedly the strongest player next to Morphy.” The Bird issue gave Staunton a third and more powerful weapon. Steinitz wrote: At that very time this Mr. Staunton was again the almighty ruler of public opinion in the chess world and his performance against Morphy was remembered only by very few. In his usual manner he commenced by attacking my play; a mode of warfare which, I can assure you, always left me indifferent. But finding that this did not draw sufficiently, he made during my match with Bird an assault on my private character by means of what I may call a combination of suppressio veri and suggestio falsi, which would take too long to explain.3

Steinitz, in his 1888 account, denied that Staunton had defeated him. According to Steinitz, Staunton’s initial attempt to expel him from the Westminster Chess Club failed because he could not find a two-thirds quorum for the purpose, thanks to Steinitz’s letter in the Illustrated London News of 6 December 1866. “I had placed the true facts before his own public, and everybody who knew me or knew Staunton well enough believed me in preference.”4 Then, says Steinitz, he was tricked into submitting his resignation, which was presumably suggested to him as a tactic. In his 1888 article he blamed the “treacherous perfidy” of someone “who deliberately gave me false advice professedly as a friend and a gentleman, and afterward cynically admitted that he had laid me a trap, as he thought that the money he had invested in the Club would be safer by throwing me overboard in order to gratify the almighty editor of the Illustrated London News.” Steinitz withdrew his resignation immediately in letters to the secretary and every committee member, seeking a discussion at a general meeting. “Staunton and his shystering advocate, as well as other satellites comprising your virtuous Wormald and Duffy” ignored Steinitz’s letters and accepted his resignation “with a vote of censure of their own, over which Staunton was of course jubilant.” Steinitz claimed ultimate victory because Staunton, in the summer of the following year, was forced out of the club himself.5 The identity of the false friend was not disclosed but in an article Steinitz wrote in 1883 after the London tournament, he gave more details which may help to narrow down the suspects. There, replying to what The Chess-Monthly had recently said about him,6 Steinitz listed a catalog of the wrongs that the London chess world had done him in his 20 years living in that city. There he discussed the Westminster club incident, though he dated it 1866.

Howard Staunton became a bitter enemy of Steinitz and forced him out of the Westminster Chess Club in 1867, only to meet with the same fate the following year. (From A Century of British Chess.) A lawyer, a member of the managing committee, who professed to act as my friend and a gentleman, deliberately gave me false advice and persuaded me to resign. Fearful to say I fell into the trap and subjected myself to misconstructions and misinterpretations which I was sensitive enough to feel bitterly at the time, but which somehow I survived for 17 years. But why was that very lawyer, of whose conduct in the matter I publicly complained at the meeting of the British Chess Association in 1868, why was he 17 years afterward, even without his knowledge or consent, elected a member of the Playing Committee in the London Chess Congress of 1883?7

First Visit to Scotland Steinitz’s host for his first visit to Scotland, which lasted several weeks, was George Brunton Fraser (1831?–1905), who had a chess career spanning half a century from the early 1850s to the 1890s. From the 1860s he was always one of the strongest chess players in Scotland. Based in the eastern port

6. Paris and Dundee, 1867 of Dundee, where he was a wine merchant and later a commission agent, Fraser had few opportunities to test himself against strong opponents and mostly had to satisfy himself with postal play and analysis of chess openings. Many of his articles were published in chess magazines over a long period. Fraser was the leading light of the Dundee Chess Club and the chief organizer of the international tournament held in his home town in September 1867. It is important not to confuse him with his Edinburgh rival, Dr. James Cunningham Fraser (1827?–1876),8 of similar playing strength, who also competed in that tournament. After Dr. Fraser died, George Fraser was clearly the strongest Scottish player for many years, but tended to underachieve against English opponents.9 At the last minute he had to withdraw from the 1877 Counties Association championship in Birmingham, won by John Jenkin of Glasgow, who never managed to even draw with Fraser (if the latter’s claim is true).10 George Fraser’s “voice” can be heard through a collection of letters to American collector John Griswold White, spanning 28 July 1875 to 16 May 1900; Fraser purchased many items of chess literature and shipped them to White in Cleveland, Ohio, over this period.11 Dundee was almost invariably successful in correspondence matches when Fraser was involved. One letter to White pushes the start of Fraser’s chess career back into the 1840s: when he was 17 or 18 he used to play chess with a hairdresser named Neil, who later “claimed to be my Instructor in Chess.”12 So it is even possible that Fraser was involved in 1848 in the correspondence match between the Angus Club and the chess editor of the Glasgow Citizen. More details of the letters from Fraser to White appear in a later chapter. From 14 July 1862 to 23 May 1864, Fraser conducted a chess column in the local Courier and Argus, combining news, games and elementary instruction.13 He later warned White that “it is very disheartening to carry one on, without a steady contributor or two, besides the Editor.”14 In 1867, however, he appears to have supplied the chess coverage of Steinitz’s visit and later of the international tournament that appeared in that newspaper. There was also coverage of those events in the Dundee Advertiser. Some details about Fraser’s family have come to light in recent years. Although his date of birth remains a mystery, it was about 1831 because he was said to be 74 years old when he died at Wormit, Fife, on 1 December 1905.15 In 1867 he was still a bachelor, but his later marriage record states that he was the son of Robert Fraser, an iron merchant, and his wife Anna, née Cumming. Other records show that Robert Fraser, ironmonger, the son of Henry Fraser (probably born in the late 1780s), married Ann Cumming at Kirkcaldy, Fife (across the River Tay from Dundee) in 1820 and they had several children. A researcher did not find a birth record for a George Brunton Fraser but noted that in the intervals be-

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tween the known births there was “space” for him to have arrived in late 1831 or in 1834. Alternatively there may be an error in the records since the fourth child was said to be James George Fraser born 29 April 1829 and the fifth James Fraser born 30 November 1830, and the chess player may have been the latter. Steinitz appears to have forged a significant friendship with Fraser, as a highly personal letter of 1877 quoted in Chapter 11 will show. How they met is unknown; it was possibly in London on one of Fraser’s business trips down south, or perhaps Fraser just offered Steinitz inducements to come and play a match in his home town. The visit of the famous master undoubtedly helped to create local interest in the tournament scheduled for later in the year, and was an opportunity for the local club to obtain advice from him on how to run it. Steinitz spent the last week of January and almost the whole of February in Scotland. They started with a match in which the Scotsman received odds but still lost. He performed significantly better in a second match played on even terms, during a break in which Steinitz paid a visit to Glasgow Chess Club, no doubt arranged for him by Fraser. The Dundee Courier, Monday, 28 January, says the match commenced on Friday (i.e., 25 January) and resumed on Saturday when another (the third game) was played. Steinitz led 3–0. Curiously the I.L.N. published all games of the odds match with Fraser but not the subsequent level match.

226. G. B. Fraser–Steinitz Fraser–Steinitz odds match, Dundee (1), 25 January 1867 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 167); I.L.N., 9 February 1867; B.L.L., 6 April 1867; T.C.W., III (March 1867), pages 14–15; C.P.M., ns 3 (March 1867), page 74.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Qh5† g6 4. Qe5 Nf6 5. e×d5 Bd6 6. Qe2 N×d5 7. c4 Nf4 8. Qe4 Nh5 9. Nf3 0–0 10. Bh6 Rf7 11. g3 Nc6 12. Be2 Nf6 13. Qh4 e5 14. d5 Ne7 15. Ng5 Nf5 16. N×f7 Qe7 17. Qg5 Q×f7 18. Nc3 Nd4 19. Rc1 Bh3 20. Qh4 Bg2 21. Rg1 Bf3 22. Bd3 B×d5 23. Qh3 Nf3† 24. Kf1 Be6 25. Qg2 Ng4 26. Ne4 N×h6 27. Rh1 Rf8 28. h3 Bf5 29. Rd1 B×e4 30. B×e4 Q×c4† 31. Bd3 Qb4 0–1

227. G. B. Fraser–Steinitz Fraser–Steinitz odds match, Dundee (2), 25 January 1867 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 168); I.L.N., 9 February 1867; B.L.L., 6 April 1867; C.P.M., ns 3 (March 1867), pages 75–77. The Dundee Courier, 26 January 1867, said up to last evening two games had been played and this was the second. It lasted about two hours.

1.  e4 e6 2.  d4 d5 3.  Qh5† g6 4.  Qe5 Nf6 5.  Bg5 Be7 6. Bb5† Kf7 7. Nc3 c6 8. Bd3 Rf8 9. Qf4 Kg8 10. B×f6 B×f6 11.  e5 Bh4 12.  Qg4 B×f2† 13.  Ke2 Qh4 14.  Q×h4 B×h4 15. Nf3 Be7 16. h4 c5 17. d×c5 Nc6 18. a3 B×c5 19. h5 g5

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Steinitz in London

20. N×g5 Rf2† 21. Ke1 R×g2 22. N×h7 N×e5 23. Nf6† Kg7 24. h6†? K×f6 25. h7 N×d3† 26. c×d3 Bd7 27. Ne2 Rh8 0–1

228. G. B. Fraser–Steinitz Fraser–Steinitz odds match, Dundee (3), 26 January 1867 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 169); I.L.N., 16 February 1867; B.L.L., 13 April 1867; C.P.M., ns 3 (March 1867) pages 77–78.

1. e4 Nc6 2. d4 e5 3. d×e5 N×e5 4. f4 Nf7 5. Bc4 Ngh6 6. Nf3 Bc5 7. Nc3 c6 8. Bd2 d5 9. e×d5 0–0 10. Kf1 b5 11. Bd3 c×d5 12. h3 Nf5 13. B×f5 B×f5 14. Qe1 B×c2 15. g3 b4 16. Ne2 Bd3 17. Rh2 Qe7 18. Rc1 Rae8 19. R×c5 Q×c5 20.  B×b4 Qe3 21.  Nfg1 Rc8 22.  Bd2 Qe4 23.  Kf2 Rfe8 24. Nc3 Q×e1† 25. B×e1 d4 26. Nce2 B×e2 27. N×e2 Rc2 0–1

229. G. B. Fraser–Steinitz Fraser–Steinitz odds match, Dundee (4), January 1867 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 170); I.L.N., 23 February 1867; B.L.L., 20 April 1867; C.P.M., ns 3 (March 1867), page 78.

1. e4 Nc6 2. d4 e5 3. d×e5 N×e5 4. f4 Nf7 5. Bc4 Ngh6 6. Nf3 Bc5 7. Qd3 0–0 8. Nc3 c6 9. a4 d5 10. Bb3 Ng4 11. Rf1 N×h2 12. N×h2 Qh4† 13. g3 Q×h2 14. Bd2 Bg4 15. N×d5 c×d5 16. B×d5 Kh8 17. Bc3 Rad8 0–1

230. G. B. Fraser–Steinitz Fraser–Steinitz odds match, Dundee (5), January 1867 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 171); The Era, 10 February 1867; I.L.N., 23 February 1867; T.C.W., III (March 1867), pages 10–11; C.P.M., ns 3 (March 1867), pages 79–80; B.L.L., 20 April 1867.

1. e4 d6 2. d4 Nf6 3. Bc4 e6 4. Nc3 Nc6 5. Nf3 d5 6. Bb5 d×e4 7. Ne5 Bd7 8. N×d7 Q×d7 9. 0–0 Bb4 10. Ne2 0–0 11. c3 Bd6 12. c4 Qf7 13. B×c6 B×h2† 14. Kh1 Bd6 15. Nf4 b×c6 16. Nh3 Rad8 17. Qe2 Nh5 18. Be3 Qg6 19. Rfd1 Rf5 20. c5 Bf4 21. g4 Rg5 22. N×g5 Q×g5 23. Kg2 Nf6 24. B×f4 Q×f4 25. Kh3 h5 26. g×h5 Rd5 27. Kg2 Rg5† 28. Kf1 Ng4 29. Qe1 R×h5 30. Ke2 Rh2 0–1

231. G. B. Fraser–Steinitz Fraser–Steinitz odds match, Dundee (6), 29 January 1867 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 172); published on 31 January in the Dundee Advertiser. Then I.L.N., 23 February 1867; Era, 10 March; and C.P.M., ns 3 (March 1867), page 107.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 Qe7 3. Bd3 Nc6 4. Nf3 b6 5. 0–0 Bb7 6. d5 Nd8 7. Bg5 Qf7?? “A ridiculous oversight indeed”—I.L.N. 8. Ne5 “and Mr. Steinitz resigns, the Queen being lost.” (1–0). This was the only game Fraser won receiving odds, “merely by a fluke” as Staunton remarked in The Era, saying

it was perhaps because Steinitz had not bothered to learn the openings for these odds. Of the next game, the Courier reported: The chess match—Tough contest. The seventh game in the match between Herr Steinitz and Mr. G. B. Fraser came off yesterday in the Club Room, and was the toughest and most protracted that has yet been played between these gentlemen. The game was commenced at one o’clock p.m., and lasted, without interval, till nearly midnight, being about eleven hours, and terminated in a draw. The contest created a good deal of interest amongst the members of the club.16

232. G. B. Fraser–Steinitz Fraser–Steinitz odds match, Dundee (7), 30 January 1867 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 173); original score in the Dundee Advertiser, 1 February 1867, which said the players took a day off after this but would play again today. Corrected score in the Dundee Advertiser, 18 February 1867; I.L.N., 2 March 1867; T.C.W., III (March 1867), pages 12–14; C.P.M., ns 3 (April 1867), pages 107–109.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 Qe7 3. Bd3 Nc6 4. Nf3 Nd8 5. 0–0 Nf7 6. c4 g6 7. Nc3 Bg7 8. Bf4 d6 9. c5 Nf6 10. c×d6 c×d6 11. Rc1 0–0 12. Qd2 Bd7 13. Rfe1 Nh5 14. Be3 a6 15. a4 Rac8 16. a5 Nd8 17. Bb1 Nc6 18. Ba2 Kh8 19. Na4 e5 20. Nb6 Rce8 21. d5 Nb8 22. Rc7 Nf4 23. B×f4 R×f4 24. Bb3 R×f3 25. g×f3 Qh4 26. f4 Bh6 27. N×d7 B×f4 28. Qc3 N×d7 29. h3 Nc5 30. Bd1 Rf8 31. R×c5 d×c5 32. Bg4 Qe7 33. Rd1 Kg7 34. Qe1 h5 35. Be6 Kh6 36. Rd3 c4 37. Rd1 Rd8 38. Qc3 Qg5† 39. Kh1 Qh4 40. Qf3 Rf8 41. Rg1 Qe7 42. Qg2 g5 43. f3 h4 44. Qe2 Qc5 45. Rd1 c3 46. b×c3 Q×c3 47. Bg4 Q×a5 48. d6 Qc5 49. Qa2 Kg7 50. Bh5 g4 51. B×g4 b5 52. Bh5 Qc4 53. Rg1† Kh6 54. Qg2 Bg3 55. Bg4 Qd4 56. d7 b4 57. Rc1 b3 58. Qe2 Qb6 59. Rd1 Bf4 60. Qb2 Kg7 61. Bf5 Kf7 62. Rd3 Qb5 63. Q×b3† Q×b3 64. R×b3 a5 65. Rb5 Ke7 66. R×a5 Rb8 67.  Ra2 Be3 68.  Re2 Rb1† 69.  Kg2 Bd4 70.  Rc2 Rb2 71. R×b2 B×b2 72. f4 e×f4 73. Kf3 Bf6 74. K×f4 Kd8 75. e5 Be7 76. e6 Kc7 77. Bg4 Kd8 78. Kf5 Kc7 79. Kg6 Kd8 80. Kf7 Ba3 ½–½

233. G. B. Fraser–Steinitz Fraser–Steinitz odds match, Dundee (8), 1 February 1867 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 174); I.L.N., 9 March 1867; B.L.L., 20 April 1867; C.P.C., 1867, pages 110–111. The Dundee Courier, 2 February, said the last two games of the match were played “yesterday.”

1. e4 d6 2. d4 Nf6 3. Bc4 e6 4. Nc3 c6 5. Nf3 d5 6. Bd3 Bb4 7. e5 Nfd7 8. Ng5 Nf8 9. B×h7 N×h7 10. Qh5† Kd7 11. N×e6 K×e6 12. Qg6† Kd7 13. Q×g7† Be7 14. Be3 Kc7 15. 0–0–0 Qf8 16. Q×f8 R×f8 17. f4 Rg8 18. Rdg1 Nd7 19. g4 Nb6 20. h3 Nc4 21. Bf2 Bd7 22. Ne2 Raf8 23. b3 Ba3† 24. Kd1 Nb2† 25. Kd2 Ng5 26. Ke3 Ne4 27. Bg3 c5 28. c3 c×d4† 29. c×d4 Bb5 30. f5 Nd1† 31. R×d1 B×e2 32. Rdg1

6. Paris and Dundee, 1867

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N×g3 33. R×g3 Bb5 34. Rg2 Kd7 35. Rc2 Rc8 36. Rhh2 Bc1† 37. Kf3 Bd3 38. R×c8 R×c8 39. Kg3 Be4 40. Re2 Bg5 41. e6† Kd6 42. Rf2 Rc3† 0–1

234. G. B. Fraser–Steinitz Fraser–Steinitz odds match, Dundee (9), 1 February 1867 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 175); I.L.N., 9 March 1867; C.P.M., ns 3 (April 1867), pages 111–112; B.L.L., 11 May 1867.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 c5 3. d×c5 Qa5† 4. Nc3 B×c5 5. Bd3 a6 6. Nf3 Nc6 7. 0–0 d6 8. Bd2 Qc7 9. Bf4 Nf6 10. Qd2 0–0 11. Rad1 e5 12. Bc4† Kh8 13. Bg5 Bg4 14. B×f6 B×f3 15. Bh4 B×d1 16. R×d1 Bb4 17. Nd5 Qf7 18. c3 Bc5 19. b4 Ba7 20. Qe2 Qg6 21. Nc7 Qh6 22. Bg3 Rac8 23. Ne6 Rf6 24. Qg4 Ne7 25. Bb3 Rg6 26. Qf3 R×e6 27. Qf7 Rf6 28. Q×e7 Rcf8 29. R×d6 B×f2† 30. B×f2 R×f2 31. Q×f8† R×f8 32. R×h6 g×h6 33.  Bd5 b6 34.  a4 Kg7 35.  g3 Kf6 36.  Kf2 Ke7† 37. Ke3 Rf1 38. Bc4 Ra1 39. B×a6 R×a4 40. Be2 Kd6 41. h4 Ra1 42. g4 h5 43. g×h5 Rh1 “and Black ultimately won the game, and with it the match”—I.L.N., 0–1 Bachmann and Pickard wrongly said the second Steinitz– Fraser match, on level terms, was played in April. P. W. Walsh’s The Story of Dundee Chess Club says February, as news reports confirm.17 Nor does the sequence of games in Di Felice’s Chess Results and Pickard entirely match the sequence of results given by Walsh, since the latter says Fraser won game 2 and lost game 4. Walsh says games 1–3 were played in early February. Fraser drew the first, won the second and lost the third. Then Steinitz went to Glasgow to play a simultaneous exhibition before returning to Dundee. The other draw is known to have been the fifth game, so the following game was definitely the first of the match, whereas Pickard and Di Felice said the second draw was in game 3.

235. G. B. Fraser–Steinitz Fraser–Steinitz level match, Dundee (1), 7 February 1867 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann (game 184) incorrectly called this the third game. The Dundee Advertiser, 8 February 1867, said the match on even terms for the first to win three games had begun yesterday with this draw, and it published the moves. Notes from The Era, 21 April 1867 (probably by Staunton); also in T.C.W., III (December 1867), pages 326–327.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d×c3 “Mr. Steinitz would hesitate, probably, to take this pawn in any game of a match with a player fully able to cope with him.” 8. Qb3 Qe7 9. N×c3 B×c3 10. Q×c3 f6 11. e5 f×e5 12. N×e5 N×e5 13. Re1 d6 14. f4 Be6 15. B×e6 The Era: “It appears to us that White would have obtained an all-powerful attack by 15. R×e5 and then playing 16. Ba3.” In Game 360, playing blindfold, Steinitz preferred 11. Ba3.

George Brunton Fraser, Steinitz’s Scottish friend and chief organizer of the Dundee 1867 tournament. (Cleveland Public Library Digital Gallery.)

15. … Q×e6 16. f×e5 d5 17. Q×c7 Qb6† “Mr. Fraser should have avoided an exchange of Queens. His superiority was one of position, not of force.” 18. Q×b6 a×b6 19. Be3 Ra6 20. Reb1 Ne7 21. B×b6 0–0 22. Bc5 Re8 23. R×b7 Nc6 24. Rf1 R×e5 25. a3 ½–½.

236. Steinitz–G. B. Fraser Fraser–Steinitz level match, Dundee (2), 8 February 1867 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 185); T.C.W., III (December 1867), pages 327–329. The Dundee Advertiser, 9 February 1867, said the game was played “yesterday,” although it did not publish the moves.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Bg4 5. h3 B×f3 6. Q×f3 Be7 7. Bc4 Nc6 8. 0–0 0–0 9. d3 Nd4 10. Qf2 c6 11. Be3 b5 12. Bb3 a5 13. a3 N×b3 14. c×b3 Nh5 15. f5 Bg5 16. Ne2 B×e3 17. Q×e3 Qh4 18. Rac1 Rfc8 19. Qb6 Rab8 20. R×c6 Qd8 21. R×c8 R×c8 22. Q×b5 h6 23. d4 e×d4 24. Qd3 Qb6 25. N×d4 Nf6 26. Kh2 Qb7 27. Nb5 Q×e4 28. Q×e4 N×e4 29. Re1 d5 30. Rd1 Rd8 31. Rd4 Kf8 32. b4 a×b4 33. R×b4 Ke7 34. Nd4 Kd6 35. Rb7 Rd7 36. R×d7† K×d7 37. g4 Kd6

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Steinitz in London

38. b4 Ke5 39. Nf3† Kf4 40. Kg2 Ke3 41. b5 Nc5 42. Ne5 f6 43. Nc6 d4 44. Na5 Ke2 45. Kg3 d3 46. Nc4 d2 47. N×d2 K×d2 48. Kh4 Ke3 49. b6 Kf3 50. Kh5 Kg3 51. h4 Kf4 52. a4 Nb7 53. Kg6 K×g4 54. h5 Na5 55. K×g7 Kg5 56. Kf7 K×f5 57.  Ke7 Ke5 58.  Kd7 f5 59.  Kc7 f4 60.  b7 N×b7 61. K×b7 f3 62. a5 f2 63. a6 f1Q 0–1

237. G. B. Fraser–Steinitz Fraser–Steinitz level match, Dundee (3), 11 February 1867 Ponziani Opening (C44) Bachmann (game 186); Dundee Advertiser, 12 February (with a corrected score next day); The Era, 21 May 1867; T.C.W., III (December 1867), page 329.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. c3 d5 4. Qa4 d×e4 5. N×e5 Qd5 6. Bb5 Nge7 7. f4 e×f3 8. N×f3 a6 9. Bc4 Qh5 10. Be2 Bd7 11. d4 Nf5 12. Qd1 Bd6 13. 0–0 0–0 14. Ne5 Qh4 15. Rf4 Qe7 16. N×c6 b×c6 17. Rf2 Qh4 18. g4 Nh6 19. Rg2 Rae8 20. B×h6 Q×h6 21. Nd2 Bf4 22. Nf3 Be6 23. Qf1 Bd5 24. Re1 Qh3 25. Rf2 Q×g4† 26. Qg2 Qh5 27. c4 Be6 28. Bf1 Bd7 29.  Rfe2 R×e2 30.  Q×e2 Bg4 31.  Qe4 g5 32.  Bg2 B×f3 33.  Q×f3 Q×h2† 34.  Kf1 Rd8 35.  Qe4 Rd6 36.  d5 Rf6 37.  Ke2 c×d5 38.  c×d5 Qg3 39.  Rf1 c6 40.  Qf3 Q×f3† 41. B×f3 c×d5 42. B×d5 Kg7 43. b3 Rd6 44. Rd1 f5 45. Kf3 Kf6 46. Rd3 Ke5 47. Bc4 g4† 48. Kg2 R×d3 49. B×d3 a5 50. Bc2 h5 51. Bd3 h4 52. a3 h3† 53. Kh1 g3 0–1 Steinitz then left for Glasgow on 12 February, so the match was “discontinued for some time.” The Dundee Courier, 13 February, said that to play 10 games simultaneously was “a feat which no player not standing in the first rank could attempt with any prospect of success.” An advertisement in the Glasgow Herald, and a short report in the Glasgow Evening Post, both on 11 February, had said that Steinitz would indeed play 10 opponents simultaneously on Wednesday the 13th in the large hall of the club, 138 Bath Street, starting at 1 p.m. The addresses of two shops (a bookseller and a tobacconist), where tickets of admission could be obtained, were published in the former paper, but no price for the tickets was stated. No game scores from the Glasgow exhibition have been preserved, but there were some newspaper reports. The first, in the Evening Post on the Wednesday afternoon when play was in progress, said play began shortly after 1 p.m. and said Steinitz opened each game with “the ordinary move,” 1. e4. They described him as “a short, thickset man, about 30 years of age.” Next day (14 February 1867) the Glasgow Herald reported but it omitted the name of one player (J. Duncan, Jr.) who was listed in the earlier account: CHESS MATCH.—An interesting match at chess took place yesterday between Herr Steinitz and ten members of the Glasgow Chess Club. Herr Steinitz, it may be known to some of our readers, is an Austrian, who recently achieved a triumph over Herr Anderssen, one of the most skilful masters of this “King of games.” The gentlemen pitched against him yesterday were Messrs. Eckhout, Moffat, Paterson, Fairlie, Roberton, Pirrie, Ross, Murray, and J. D. Campbell, jun. The ten games

were played simultaneously, the players being seated in a semi-circle, and Herr Steinitz directing his attention to each board in its turn. After about four hours’ playing, the contest resulted in eight victories for Herr Steinitz and two draws. The match appeared to excite considerable interest; a large number of persons being present throughout the day. Professor Ramsay, Professor Nicol, Sheriff Bell, and Dr. Dougan were present for some time. The playing of Herr Steinitz was much admired by all who had the pleasure of witnessing his interesting feat.

A somewhat longer report in the Glasgow Evening Post of the same day said that Steinitz tried the King’s Gambit in several games. The players who drew with him were Paterson and Fairlie, the latter almost winning, having an extra pawn at the end. That report concluded by saying: Herr Steinitz is a man about 5 ft. 4 in. in height, with a small and sharp black eye, and plays with a coolness almost amounting to indifference. So far as were able to observe he took but little time to consider his moves, and made them without hesitation. In the evening a gathering of chess players took place in the club, where several of the members again tried a fall with the Herr.

238. Steinitz–G. B. Fraser Fraser–Steinitz level match, Dundee (4), 15 February 1867 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 183); The Era, 14 April 1867; T.C.W. III (December 1867), pages 330–332. Of this game, the Dundee Advertiser, Saturday, 16 February, observed: At one stage … the victory appeared to be completely in Mr. Fraser’s hands; but having unexpectedly been called out of the Club-room for a few minutes, the interruption unfortunately was the cause of his losing a piece, and consequently the game.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Bg4 5. h3 B×f3 6. Q×f3 Be7 7. f5 c6 8. Bc4 Nbd7 9. a3 Nb6 10. Bb3 d5 11. d3 h6 12.  Bd2 d4 13.  Ne2 Nbd7 14.  Ng3 Qb6 15.  Nh5 Nc5 16. N×g7† Kf8 17. Nh5 N×b3 18. c×b3 Q×b3 19. N×f6 B×f6 20. 0–0 Ke7 21. Bc1 Rag8 22. Qe2 Rg3 The Era rightly recommended doubling rooks on the g-file first. 23. Rf3 Rhg8 24. R×g3 R×g3 25. B×h6 Q×d3 26. Q×d3 R×d3 27. Kf2 Bh4† 28. Ke2 Rb3 29. Rb1 c5 30. Kd2 b5 31. Kc2 Rg3 32. Rg1 a5? 33. Bd2 a4? 34. Be1 d3† 35. Kd1 c4 36. B×g3 B×g3 37. Rf1 Kd6 38. Rf3 Bh4 39. g3 Bd8 40. h4 Kc5 41. f6 Kd4 42. h5 K×e4 43. Rf1 Kd4 44. h6 e4 45. h7 e3 46. h8Q e2† 47. Ke1 Ba5† 48. Kf2 e×f1Q† 49. K×f1 c3 50. Qh4† Kc5 51. b×c3 B×c3 52. Qe4 d2 53. Ke2 1–0

239. G. B. Fraser–Steinitz Fraser–Steinitz level match, Dundee (5), 16 February 1867 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 182); Dundee Advertiser, Monday, 18 February 1867 (somewhat garbled); The Era, 28 April 1867; T.C.W., III (January 1868), pages 368–369.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. Nc3 Bg4 10. Bb5 Kf8 11. B×c6 b×c6 12. Ne2 Ne7 13. a4 a5 14. Ra3 Ng6 15. h3 Bd7 16. e5

6. Paris and Dundee, 1867 h6 17. Ng3 Be6 18. Qc2 Qd7 19. h4 Ne7 20. Bb2 Nd5 21. Qe4 Re8 22. h5 Bg4 23. Nh2 f5 24. Qb1 f4 25. Qe4 Bachmann says 25. Qg6 was much stronger but it loses to 25. … Be6. White stands worse after the text; he should have simplified by 25. N×g4 and 26. Qf5†. 25. … Kg8 26. N×g4 Q×g4 27. Rf3 Nf6 28. Q×c6 d×e5 29. Ne4 Qe6 30. N×f6† g×f6 31. Q×e6† R×e6 32. d×e5 f×e5 33. Re1 Kh7 34. R×f4 Rd8 35. R×e5 R×e5 36. B×e5 Rd1† 37. Kh2 Rd5 38. Bc3 R×h5† 39. Kg3 Rd5 40. f3 Rd3 41. Be5 ½–½

240. Steinitz–G. B. Fraser

155

1867; C.P.M., ns 3 (April 1867), page 113, but T.C.W., III (March 1867), pages 20–21, had “C. E. Baxter.”

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6 4. Bc4 Nf6 5. d3 Bg4 6. c3 0–0 7. h3 B×f3 8. Q×f3 e×f4 9. B×f4 h6 10. Nd2 Nc6 11. d4 Bb6 12. Bb3 Ne7 13. B×h6 Ng6 14. Bg5 c5 15. Qf5 Nh8 16.  d×c5 B×c5 17.  0–0–0 Re8 18.  Nf3 Rc8 19.  e5 Qa5 20.  B×f6 g×f6 21.  Qg4† Kf8 22.  e×f6 Ng6 23.  h4 Ba3 24. b×a3 Q×c3† 25. Kb1 Re2 26. Qd4 Rb2† 27. Ka1 R×b3† 28. Q×c3 Rb×c3 29. R×d6 Nf4 30. Rhd1 Ne6 31. Ng5 R3c6 32. N×e6† f×e6 33. R×c6 R×c6 34. g4 Kf7 35. g5 e5 36. h5 a5 37. Rf1 e4 38. g6† Kf8 39. f7 Rc8 40. h6 1–0

Fraser–Steinitz level match, Dundee (6), 23 February 1867 Salvio Gambit (C37) Bachmann (game 187); Dundee Advertiser, 26 February 1867; T.C.W., III (January 1868), pages 369–370.

242. Steinitz–D. Lindsay

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. Ne5 Qh4† 6. Kf1 Nh6 7. d4 f3 8. Nc3 f×g2† Steinitz also met 8. … d6 9. Nd3 Bg7 (Game 377) and 9. … Nc6 (Game 395) while 8. … Nc6 9. Bf4 d6 was Chigorin’s choice in Game 516. 9. K×g2 Qh3† 10. Kg1 d6 F. K. Young tried 10. … Nc6 against Steinitz in a Boston simul in 1885. 11. Nd3 g3 12. Nf4 g×h2† 13. R×h2 Rg8† 14. Ng2 Qg3 15. Qf1 Be6 16. B×e6 f×e6 17. B×h6 B×h6 18. Kh1! Not 18. R×h6 (Bachmann) 18. … Qe3† and 19. … Q×h6. 18. … Qg5?! 19. Qb5† Nd7 20. Q×b7 Ke7 21. e5 d×e5 22. d5 Raf8 23. d×e6 Rf2 24. Ne4 Qf5 25. N×f2. … 1–0 The Advertiser said Fraser resigned after a few more moves. This was the final game of the match and the only game of the set to be correctly numbered by Bachmann.

1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 a6 4. d4 c×d4 5. N×d4 e6 6. Be2 Bb4 7. 0–0 Nge7 8. Be3 0–0 9. f4 B×c3 10. b×c3 d5 11. e5 N×d4 12. B×d4 Qc7 13. Bd3 f5 14. e×f6 g×f6 15. Qh5 f5 16. Rae1 Ng6 17. Rf3 Rf7 18. Rg3 Kf8 19. Qh6† Ke7 20. Qg5† Ke8 21. B×f5 Ne7 22. B×e6 B×e6 23. R×e6 Kd7 24. R×e7† 1–0

Steinitz had meanwhile played a six-board blindfold simultaneous exhibition against Dundee Chess Club in Lamb’s Saloon on Thursday, 21 February. An advertisement and preview article with the opponents’ names and board numbers appeared in the Dundee Advertiser the previous day. This said that the exhibition would start at 6 p.m. and “in the event of the opponents of Mr. Steinitz making a good stand, may terminate about 10 p.m.” Fraser’s report in the Dundee Courier and Argus of 22 February shows that play did not begin until 7 p.m. The Dundee players were seated at separate tables, while Steinitz sat apart from them at another table. Moves were communicated by writing them on slips of paper to avoid errors of communication that might arise from oral transmission. After four hours, boards 2 and 4 resigned. About an hour and a half later, board 1 resigned and board 3 was soon agreed drawn, but boards 5 and 6 were left unfinished in positions favorable for the blindfold player. Steinitz conceded just one draw, on board 3, to the problem composer Crichton M. Baxter although Pickard credited his cousin C. R. Baxter with the draw.

241. Steinitz–Charles R. Baxter Dundee blindfold simul (1), 21 February 1867 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Bachmann (game 176); Dundee Advertiser, 26 February

Dundee blindfold simul (2), 21 February 1867 Sicilian Defense (B46) Bachmann (game 177); Dundee Advertiser, 26 February 1867; T.C.W., III (March 1867), page 22; C.P.M., ns 3 (April 1867), page 115.

243. Steinitz–Crichton M. Baxter Dundee blindfold simul (3), 21 February 1867 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 178); Dundee Advertiser, 26 February 1867; T.C.W., III (April 1867), page 41; C.P.M., ns 3 (April 1867), page 115.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nc3 Nf6 3.  f4 d6 4.  Nf3 Bg4 5.  Bc4 B×f3 6. Q×f3 Nc6 7. 0–0 Nd4 8. Qd1 Be7 9. d3 0–0 10. Be3 Qd7 11. B×d4 e×d4 12. Ne2 d5 13. e×d5 N×d5 14. B×d5 Q×d5 15. Qd2 f5 16. Nc1 Rf6 17. Nb3 Rg6 18. g3 h5 19. Qg2 Q×g2† 20. K×g2 c5 21. Rae1 Bd6 22. Nd2 h4 23. Nc4 Rf8 24. Re2 h×g3 25. h×g3 b6 26. Kf3 Kf7 27. Rfe1 Ra8 28. a4 Rh6 29. a5 b×a5 30. N×a5 Rb8 31. Nc4 Rb7 32. b3 Bb8 33. Re8 Rh2 34. R1e2 R×e2 35. R×e2 Re7 36. R×e7† K×e7 37. Ke2 Bc7 38. Nd2 g5 39. f×g5 B×g3 ½–½

244. Steinitz–P. Scott Dundee blindfold simul (4), 21 February 1867 French Defense (C15) Bachmann (game 179); Dundee Advertiser, 26 February 1867; T.C.W., III (April 1867), page 42; C.P.M., ns 3 (April 1867), page 117.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e×d5 B×c3† 5. b×c3 e×d5 6. Nf3 Qe7† 7. Be2 Nf6 8. a4 Nbd7 9. Ba3 c5 10. 0–0 0–0 11. Re1 b6 12. c4 Bb7 13. c×d5 B×d5 14. Bb5 Qd6 15. Ne5 Rad8 16. N×d7 N×d7 17. B×d7 R×d7 18. d×c5 b×c5 19. c4 B×c4 20. Q×d6 R×d6 21. B×c5 Re6 22. R×e6 f×e6 23. B×f8 K×f8 24. Rc1 Bd5 25. Rc8† 1–0

156

Steinitz in London

245. Steinitz–P. Sandeman Dundee blindfold simul (5), 21 February 1867 Falkbeer Counter-Gambit (C31) Bachmann (game 180); Dundee Advertiser, 26 February 1867; T.C.W., III (May/June 1867), pages 93–94. Lopez Esnaola, page 147, has “Sandemann” with two Ns. He does not have forenames for any of the opponents. The Dundee Courier says Patrick Sandeman.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 d5 3. e×d5 e4 4. Nc3 Nf6 5. Qe2 Be7 6. N×e4 0–0 7. N×f6† B×f6 8. Qf3 Bd7 9. Bc4 b5 10. Bb3 a5 11. c3 Bf5 12. Ne2 Nd7 13. d4 Nb6 14. Ng3 Re8† 15. Be3 Bh4 16. 0–0 B×g3 17. Q×g3 a4 18. Bd1 N×d5 19. Bd2 Ra6 20. Bf3 Rg6 21. Qf2 Nf6 22. Rfe1 Ne4 23. Qe2 Ree6 24. Be3 Qd5 25. b3 Rh6 26. c4 b×c4 27. b×c4 Qd8 28. d5 Reg6 29. Bf2 Nf6 30. Qe7 Qc8 31. Re5 “and the game was abandoned owing to the lateness of the hour” said the Advertiser (½–½).

246. Steinitz–D. Sime

and just calls the opponent “Amateur.” This game, if genuine, was possibly also played against Ensor; it is one of the few cases where we have been unable to trace Bachmann’s primary source.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. 0–0 Nh6 6. d4 0–0 7. h4 g×h4 8. B×f4 d6 9. Qd2 Ng4 10. Ng5 h6 11. N×f7 R×f7 12. B×f7† K×f7 13. Bg5† Nf6 14. B×f6 B×f6 15. R×f6† K×f6 16. Q×h6† Ke7 17. Qg7† Ke8 18. Rf1 Qe7 19. Qg8† Kd7 20. Rf7 Nc6 21. c4 Q×f7 22. Q×f7† Ne7 23. c5 d×c5 24. d5 b6 25. e5 Rb8 26. d6 c×d6 27. e×d6 Kc6 28. Q×e7 1–0

249. J. Lord–Steinitz London, May 1867 Petroff Defense (C42) W.P., I (September 1868), page 67; not in Bachmann.

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Nf6 3. f4 d6 4. d3 Nc6 5. Nf3 Be7 6. Nc3 Be6 7. Bb3 h6 8. 0–0 Bg4 9. Ne2 a6 10. Be3 Qd7 11. Ng3 0–0–0 12. B×f7 e×f4 13. B×f4 Kb8 14. b4 Nd4 15. a4 c6 16. c4 g5 17. b5 a5 18. Qe1 b6 19. N×d4 g×f4 20. N×c6† Kc7 21. R×f4 Rdf8 22. Qf2 R×f7 23. R×g4 Q×g4 24. N×e7 Qd7 25.  Nef5 Ng4 26.  Qd4 Rhh7 27.  h3 Ne5 28.  Ne3 Kb7 29. Ngf5 Rf6 30. Nd5 Qd8 31. N×f6 Q×f6 32. N×d6† Ka7 33. Nf5 Rd7 34. Qe3 R×d3 35. Qc1 “and it being past one o’clock the game was abandoned” said the Advertiser (½–½).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. N×e5 d6 4. N×f7 K×f7 5. Bc4† d5 6. Bb3 Bg4 7. f3 Be6 8. e5 Nh5 9. 0–0 g6 10. d4 Ng7 11. Nc3 Nd7 12. Ne2 Nb6 13. Be3 a5 14. a4 Be7 15. Qd2 Rf8 16. Rad1 Kg8 17.  c3 Qd7 18.  Ra1 Nf5 19.  Bf2 Rac8 20.  g4 Nh4 21. B×h4 B×h4 22. Qh6 Qe7 23. Qe3 Qg5 24. Q×g5 B×g5 25. h3 c5 26. d×c5 R×c5 27. f4 Bh6 28. Kg2 Kh8 29. Nd4 Bd7 30. f5 Nc4 31. B×c4 d×c4 32. e6 Be8 33. f6 Bg5 34. f7 Bc6† 35. Kg3 Be7 36. h4 Kg7 37. g5 Re5 38. Rfe1 R×e1 39.  R×e1 Rd8 40.  Kg4 B×a4 41.  Rh1 b5 42.  Nc6 Rd1 43.  R×d1 B×d1† 44.  Kf4 Kf8 45.  N×a5 Bd6† 46.  Ke4 Bg3 47. Nc6 Bg4 48. Kd5 Bf3† 49. Kc5 B×c6 50. K×c6 B×h4 51. K×b5 B×g5 52. K×c4 h5 53. Kd5 h4 54. Ke4 h3 55. Kf3 Bf4 “and wins” (0–1). The game might have continued 56. Kf2 g5 57. b4 g4 58. b5 g3† 59. Kg1 g2 and 60. … Be3†.

247. Steinitz–A. W. Ensor

250. Steinitz–Kaiser

Queen’s knight odds, London 1867 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 198); C.P.M., ns 3 (February 1867), page 55, says nothing of the circumstances. The game was possibly played in late 1866. C.P.M., names Steinitz’s opponent as “Mr. A. Enzor,” who was probably Albert W. Ensor (?–1883), later champion of Canada.

Queen’s knight odds, Simpson’s Divan, May? 1867 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 197) names the loser as Kaiser, whereas C.P.M., ns 3 (July 1867), page 215, said only “Mr. K.” D.S.Z., XXII (August 1867, pages 246–247) has “Hr. K—R” with no indication of place or date.

Dundee blindfold simul (6), 21 February 1867 Bishop’s Opening (C24) Bachmann (game 181); Dundee Advertiser, 26 February 1867; T.C.W., III (May/June 1867), pages 94–95; Lopez Esnaola, page 147, has “Sims.”

1. f4 d6 2. Nf3 Bg4 3. e3 e5 4. h3 B×f3 5. Q×f3 Nf6 6. b3 e4 7. Qf2 Be7 8. g4 Nd5 9. g5 0–0 10. Bb2 f6 11. h4 f×g5 12.  h×g5 B×g5 13.  Bc4 c6 14.  Qh2 Bh6 15.  0–0–0 Nd7 16. B×d5† c×d5 17. Rdg1 Rf6 18. Q×h6 R×h6 19. R×g7† Kf8 20. R×h6 Nf6 21. R×b7 Ng8 22. Bg7† Ke8 23. Re6† Ne7 24. Bf6 Kf7 25. Rb×e7† Q×e7 26. R×e7† K×f6 27. R×h7 1–0

248. Steinitz–Amateur (Ensor?) Queen’s knight odds London, March 1867 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 199) says played London in March 1867

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 d5 4. e×d5 Q×d5 5. Be2 Bc5 6. d4 Bb6 7. 0–0 g5 8. c4 Qf5 9. c5 B×c5 10. d×c5 Q×c5† 11. Kh1 Be6 12. Bd2 h6 13. Rc1 Qb6 14. Bc3 f6 15. Nd4 Bd5 16. Bh5† Kf8 17. Nf5 c6 18. Q×d5 c×d5 19. Bb4† Ne7 White mates in two moves (1–0). On Friday, 17 May the B.C.A. held a sparsely-attended annual general meeting at the St. George’s Club, which Steinitz attended.18 The meeting agreed to approve the Dundee tournament, to be held in September, and perhaps he went to lend his support to Fraser for that. He probably traveled to France soon afterwards but his date of arrival there is unknown.

6. Paris and Dundee, 1867

Paris International 1867 Paris held an international exhibition in the summer of 1867 and, as with London in 1851 and 1862 (and Dublin on a much smaller scale in 1865) a chess tournament was associated with it. Several tournaments later in the century would be associated with world fairs of this kind, including Paris again in 1878 and 1900. The absence of the first two prizewinners from London, Adolf Anderssen and Louis Paulsen detracted somewhat from the status of the event. Hopes that Morphy (who was in the city at the time) might come out of retirement were disappointed. Nevertheless there were some formidable entrants and some surprising performers. A preview of the tournament in The Era of 9 June, probably written by Staunton under the impression that Anderssen had entered, said: According to present appearances, with her best players absent, England is not likely to cut a very brilliant figure in the combat. Mr. de Vere is unquestionably an elegant player, and he possesses many of the elements which go to make a great one; but what can he do against a Morphy and an Anderssen? Or even against a Kolisch or a Steinitz?

Jules Arnous de Rivière, chief organizer of the Paris 1867 tournament. (From The Field, 31 December 1910.)

157

During his time in Paris, Steinitz met two (if not three) men who would be important in his life later. Hoffer and he wrote bitterly about each other in later years, but appear to have been on amicable terms at first. Apparently Steinitz was not yet fluent in French, but became so later. Hoffer later wrote that he had to “interpret his numerous protests…. Steinitz could only protest in two languages.”19 Steinitz may also have met the boy Isidor Gunsberg (1854–1930), whose father had brought him to watch the tournament; Hoffer certainly remembered meeting Gunsberg and giving him odds of a rook. The aforementioned Mortimer was also then living in Paris, too, and would, nine years later, hire Steinitz to write a chess column. It should also be noted that allegations sometimes made later that there was a fight between Steinitz and Blackburne in Paris cannot be true because Blackburne was not there. Unlike London 1862, there was a single playing venue but it was noisy and several other aspects of the organization were unsatisfactory. Variations were made to the originally stated conditions and there were several delays: both to the closing date for entries (originally 11 May but finally 31 May) and the start of play (originally 15 May but eventually 4 June). So Steinitz probably incurred extra expense by coming to Paris earlier than necessary. Contestants had to pay every day to enter the exhibition grounds and refreshments were expensive. The modern arrangement where all players compete at the same time in specified rounds on particular days was not used. As in London, games were played sporadically with some players starting late or taking days off. As in London, it was possible to pause and see how your rivals were doing. The handling of indecisive games was the most serious problem. The plan in the original announcement, issued in March, was that players should meet twice and replay draws until two decisive results were achieved. This was a recipe for a protracted event, but the revised rule was worse. Only two games were played between each pair (one with each color) but drawn games would score zero for both. This experiment was never repeated. Although 156 games should have been played, 20 were lost by forfeit. To modern eyes it is surprising that the entry of the Danish player Martin Severin From (1828–1895) was accepted when it was known from the start that he would not be able to stay until the end of the tournament.20 Steinitz was one of those who did play him. Samuel Rosenthal (1837–1902) just stopped playing towards the end, without leaving Paris or formally withdrawing from the tournament. His last game was played on 2 July. Two others also failed to play one set of their games. Of the top five finishers, only Neumann met all his opponents. A tournament book, in French (hereafter referenced as simply Rivière), was published the following year, edited by one of the prize-winners, Neumann, together with Arnous de Rivière, the most prominent representative of the organizing committee, who also played in the tournament.21 Several of

158

Steinitz in London

the game annotations were translated into English and published in the fourth volume of Staunton’s magazine. Rivière says that Wednesday, 15 May was fixed as the final date for registrations and on page lxii it lists 14 players who had signed up. However, this was not the true list of players because François-Jules Devinck (1802–1878), from Paris, subsequently withdrew his name because of his work as a member of the organizing commission of the whole international exposition.22 Moreover, the editors glossed over the fact that Kolisch, who is on that list, had not paid his entry fee by the closing date. He was living in Paris at the time but, according to Hoffer, initially refused to enter because he was not consulted about arrangements.23 Kolisch never gave his own account of how he changed his mind, so his biographer, Zavatarelli, admits: “It is hard to reconstruct those circumstances exactly, since the only explicit reports, Hoffer’s and Steinitz’s, are … discordant and not completely reliable.” Steinitz claimed that, shortly before play began, Kolisch asked him what would be his view if Anderssen, Morphy, or Paulsen at the last minute wished to compete. Steinitz says he understood what Kolisch was driving at and replied that nobody had the right to enter late without the consent of the subscribed players, but he

would give his vote. Kolisch waited until the tournament had actually begun, and Steinitz had dropped a point, before putting his name forward—but Steinitz did not object, whereas Hoffer said he did, on principle. Steinitz said that de Vere was the principal objector, but in the end Kolisch was allowed to play.24 Before the tournament formally began, the following friendly game was among the warm-up encounters some of the players contested.

251. C. F. Golmayo Zupide–Steinitz Casual game, Paris, 1 June 1867 Scotch Game (C45) Bachmann (game 964, and also second edition game 221a); The Era, 7 July 1867 (without saying it was a casual game); La Stratégie, I (1867), page 128, which states the date of play.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Nf6 5. N×c6 b×c6 6. Bd3 d5 7. e×d5 c×d5 8. 0–0 c6 9. Re1† Be7 10. Qe2 Be6 11. Bg5 0–0 12. Nd2 Re8 13. h3 h6 14. B×f6 B×f6 15. c3 Qb6 16. Nf3 Rab8 17. Rab1 c5 18. Nh2 c4 19. Bc2 d4 20. c×d4 B×d4 21. b3 Bd7 22. Qf3 c3 23. Ng4 h5 24. Ne3 g6 25. Nd5 Qd6 26. Red1 Qe5 27. R×d4 Q×d4 28. Rd1 Qg7 29. Nf6† Kh8 30. N×d7 Rbd8 31. Nf6 R×d1† 32. B×d1 Re1† 33. Kh2 Qh6 34. Nd5 Qd2 35. Q×c3† Q×c3 36. N×c3 Re7 37. Be2 Rd7 38. Bc4 Rd2 39. f3 Kg7 40. a4 h4 41. Nb5 Rd7 42. a5 Kf6 43. a6 Ke5 44. f4† K×f4 45. N×a7 R×a7 46. b4 Rc7 47. b5 R×c4 48. a7 Ra4 49. b6 Kg5 50. b7 R×a7 51. b8Q 1–0 The first games in the tournament were on Tuesday, 4 June, when the American problemist Sam Loyd met Arnous de Rivière and de Vere played Rosenthal, but Steinitz did not start until the next day, when most of the players were in action. Kolisch did not play his first game until 7 June.

252. Steinitz–H. I. Czarnowski Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (1.1), 5 June 1867 French Defense transposing to Caro-Kann (B15) Bachmann (game 200); “Rivière” (game 4), page 8; T.C.W., IV (July 1868), pages 130–131; N.B.S.Z., V (1868), pages 237–238.

1.  e4 e6 2.  d4 d5 3.  Nc3 c6 4.  Nf3 Bb4 5.  Bd3 d×e4 6. B×e4 Nf6 7. Bd3 h6 8. 0–0 Nbd7 9. Be3 Bd6 10. Qd2 Qc7 11. h3 b6 12. Ne2 g5 13. c4 Bb7 14. b4 c5 15. d×c5 b×c5 16.  b×c5 B×c5 17.  Nfd4 Rd8 18.  Bc2 Rg8 19.  Ba4 Ke7 20. Rfd1 Nb6 21. Nc6† Ellis, Chess Sparks, page 30, ends here saying “and White wins.” 21.  … Q×c6 22.  B×c6 B×e3 23. Qb4†. 1–0 Celso Golmayo, the Spanish champion and a competitor at Paris 1867, later resident in Havana. (From a Cuban publication about his match with Blackburne.)

The players also played their reversed colors game the same day, as sometimes happened if the first game in a pairing was short.

6. Paris and Dundee, 1867

253. H. I. Czarnowski–Steinitz Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (1.2), 5 June 1867 Dutch Defense (A80) Bachmann (game 201); “Rivière” (game 9), pages 17–20; T.C.W., III (March 1868), pages 449–451, has light notes.

1. d4 f5 2. c3 Nf6 3. Nf3 e6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 b6 6. Bd3 Bb7 7. Nbd2 0–0 8. 0–0 Qe8 9. h3 Nc6 10. Nh2 Qg6 11. Ndf3 Kh8 12. Kh1 h6 13. B×f6 B×f6 14. Qe2 Ne7 15. Ne1 Qh7 16. f3 g5 17. f4 g×f4 18. e×f4 Rg8 19. Nhf3 Ng6 20. g3 Rg7 21. Kh2 Rag8 22. Rg1 h5 23. Qe3 Ne7 24. c4 Nc8 25. h4 Rg4 26. Ng5 B×g5 27. f×g5 Qg7 28. Nc2 c5 29. d5 Nd6 30. Raf1 N×c4 31. B×c4 R×c4 32. Qe2 B×d5 33. Ne3 Rd4 34. Q×h5† Qh7 35. Q×h7† K×h7 36. g4 Rd2† 37. Kh3 Rf8 38. g×f5 e×f5 39. g6† Kg8 40. Rf4 Be6 41. Rg2 Rd3 42. Rg3 d5 43. h5 Kg7 44. Kh4 d4 45. h6† Kg8 46. g7 Rd8 47. N×f5 B×f5 48. R×f5 R×g3 49. K×g3 d3 50. Kf2 Re8 51. b3 d2 52. Rd5 Kh7 53. R×d2 K×h6 54. Rd7 Rg8 55. R×a7 R×g7 56. Ra6 Rg6 57. Ke3 Kg7 58. Kd3 Rd6† 59. Kc4 Rd4† 60. Kc3 Rd6 61. a4 Rf6 62. Kc4 Rf4† 63. Kd5 Rb4 64. Ra7† Kf6 65. Rb7 R×b3 66. a5 Rd3† 67. Kc6 b×a5 ½–½ Steinitz spent two and three-quarter hours on this game, an hour more than his opponent. Since this was a draw, each player scored zero under the rules of the event. This dropped point against the Polish opponent, one of the weakest players, was mentioned by Steinitz as a reason why he might have vetoed the late entry of Kolisch, though he did not object.

254. Steinitz–J. Arnous de Rivière Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (2.1), 6 June 1867 Sicilian Defense (B24) Bachmann (game 202); “Rivière” (game 13), pages 26–29; T.C.W., IV (April 1868), pages 9–10.

1. e4 c5 2. Nc3 e6 3. g3 Nc6 4. Bg2 Nf6 5. Nge2 d5 6. e×d5 e×d5 7. d4 Be6 8. 0–0 c×d4 9. N×d4 Bc5 10. Nb3 Bb6 11. Bg5 Ne7 12. Qf3 Qd7 13. B×f6 g×f6 14. Q×f6 0–0–0 15. a4 a6 16. a5 Ba7 17. Na4 Nc6 18. Nbc5 Qe8 19. Rfe1 Rd6 20. Rad1 Qd8 21. Q×d8† Rh×d8 22. N×e6 f×e6 23. Bh3 Rf8 24. B×e6† Kc7 25. Rd2 Nd8 26. Bh3 Rdf6 27. Ree2 h5 28. Kg2 h4 29. f4 h×g3 30. h×g3 Rg8 31. Kf3 Nf7 32. Re7† Kd6 33. Rd7† Kc6 34. R×f7 R×f7 35. Be6 Rfg7 36. B×d5† Kc7 37. B×g8 R×g8 38. g4 Re8 39. Re2 R×e2 40. K×e2 Kd6 41. g5 Kd5 42. Kf3 Bb8 43. Kg4 1–0

255. J. Arnous de Rivière–Steinitz Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (2.2), 7 June 1867 Ruy Lopez (C60) Bachmann (game 203); “Rivière” (game 18), pages 38–41; T.C.W., III (July 1867), pages 131–132; La Stratégie (1867), pages 163–164; D.S.Z., XXII (1867), page 243.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nge7 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 g6 6. 0–0 Bg7 7. Be3 0–0 8. Nc3 f5 9. Bc4† Kh8 10. e×f5 N×f5 11. N×f5 R×f5 12. f4 d6 13. g4 Rf8 14. Rf2 Bd7 15. Bd5 Qh4

159

16. Rg2 Rae8 17. Bf2 Qf6 18. Ne2 Be6 19. g5 Q×b2 20. Rb1 Qa3 21. B×e6 R×e6 22. R×b7 Qf3 23. B×a7 N×a7 24. R×c7 Nb5 La Stratégie and T.C.W., ended here, saying “and wins.” 25. R×g7 K×g7 26. Qa1† Kg8 27. Rf2 Qe3. … “and the game, after a dozen moves, was won by Black” (0–1).

256. Steinitz–C. F. Golmayo Zupide Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (3.1), 8 June 1867 Sicilian Defense (B24) Bachmann (game 204); “Rivière” (game 21), pages 44–47; T.C.W., III (September 1867), pages 206–207; La Stratégie I (1867), pages 238–241.

1. e4 c5 2. Nc3 e6 3. g3 Nc6 4. Bg2 Nf6 5. Nge2 d5 6. e×d5 e×d5 7. d4 c×d4 8. N×d4 Bb4? 8. … Bg4 is strong. 9. 0–0 B×c3 10. b×c3 0–0 11. Bg5 h6 12. B×f6 Q×f6 13. B×d5 Bh3 14. Re1 Rad8 15. B×c6 b×c6 16. Qh5 Be6 17. N×c6?! This reduces White’s advantage; 17.  Qe5 or 17.  Qc5 would be preferable. 17. … Rc8 18. Nd4 R×c3 19. Qe5 Q×e5 20. R×e5 Rd8 21.  Re3 Rc4 22.  c3 Rdc8 23.  Ne2 Ra4 24.  a3 Rb8 25. Nd4 Bh3 26. f3 Rb2 27. Re2 R×e2? Black would have more drawing chances if he retained both pairs of rooks (27.  … Rb7 or 27.  … Rb8). 28.  N×e2 Kf8 29.  Kf2 Be6 30. Ke3 Ke7 31. Nf4 Kd6 32. Nd3 Bb3 33. Nb2 Ra5 34. c4 Rh5 35.  h4 g5 36.  Kd3 g×h4 37.  g4! Both 37.  Kc3 and 37. g×h4 would be met by 37. … Rf5. 37. … Ra5 38. Kc3 Re5 39. K×b3 Re3† 40. Kb4 R×f3 41. Rd1† Kc7 42. Nd3 Rg3 43. Ne5 f6 44. Nd7 h3 45. N×f6 h2 46. Rh1 Rg2 47. Nd5† Kc6 48. Ne3 Rg3 49. Nf5 Rh3 50. a4 a5† 51. K×a5 Kc5 52. Ka6 h5 53. g5 Rf3 54. Ng7 Ra3 55. Ka5 Rh3 56. Ne6† K×c4 57. g6 Rg3 58. g7 Rg2 59. R×h2 1–0

257. C. F. Golmayo Zupide–Steinitz Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (3.2), 11 June 1867 Dutch Defense (A82) Bachmann (game 205); “Rivière” (game 41), pages 82–84; T.C.W., IV (May 1868), pages 51–52.

1. d4 f5 2. e4 f×e4 3. Nc3 e6 4. N×e4 Nf6 5. Bd3 b6 6. Bg5 Be7 7. N×f6† B×f6 8. Qh5† Ke7 9. Nh3 Stockfish finds 9. Qf3 (or 9. B×f6 first, transposing.) 9. … Nc6 10. B×f6† g×f6 11. 0–0–0. 9. … Qf8 10. B×h7? Qg8! 11. B×f6† g×f6 12. Qf3? 12. B×g8 also loses material but with some swindling chances after 12. … R×h5 13. Nf4 Rh6 14. d5 e5 15. d6† Kf8 16. Nd5 K×g8 17. N×c7. 12. … Q×h7 13. Q×a8 Nc6 14. d5 Qe4† 15. Kd2 Q×d5† 16. Ke1 Rd8 17. f3 Qe5† 18. Kd2 Qd4† 19. Kc1 Ba6 20. Q×d8† K×d8 21. Re1 Qc4 0–1

258. Steinitz–I. Kolisch Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (4.1), 13 June 1867 King’s Gambit (C55) Bachmann (game 206); “Rivière” (game 48), pages 99–100; I.L.N., 4 April 1868; Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, pages 249–250.

160

Steinitz in London

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. 0–0 d6 6. d4 h6 7. g3 g4 8. Ne1 f3 9. c3 Ne7 10. h3 Much criticized at the time but best according to Stockfish 10. 10. … h5 11. N×f3 g×f3 12. Q×f3 B×h3 13. Q×f7† Kd7 14. Q×g7 Best; 14. Bg5 has been suggested but 14. … Bh6 would refute it. 14. … B×f1 15. B×f1 Qg8 16. Bh3† Kd8 17. Q×g8† R×g8 18. Bf4 Nd7 19. Na3? Steinitz would have had good compensation for his small material deficit had he played 19. Nd2 which Neumann suggested in Rivière. His position deteriorated rapidly from here. 19. … Nf6 20. Be6 Rg6 21. Re1 h4 22. e5 Nh5 23. e×d6 N×f4 24. d×e7† Ke8 25. Bf5 R×g3† 26. Kh1 Nd5 27. Nb5 a6 28. Be4 a×b5 29. B×d5 c6 30. Bg2 Rg7 31. d5 R×e7 32. Rf1 c×d5 33. B×d5 Rd8 34. c4 b×c4 35. B×c4 Rd2 36. b4 Re4 37. Bf7† Ke7 38. Bb3 Ree2 39. Ra1 Bachmann incorrectly gave White’s 39th move as 39. Rd1 Rh2† 40. Kg1 Rdg2† and only gave the move 41 pair as a note. 39. … Rh2† 40. Kg1 Rdg2† 41. Kf1 h3 0–1

259. I. Kolisch–Steinitz Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (4.2), 14 June 1867 Scotch Game (C45) Bachmann (game 207); “Rivière” (game 54), pages 111–114; I.L.N., 13 July 1867; C.P.M., ns 3 (August 1867), pages 245–246; La Stratégie I (1867), pages 207–209; T.C.W., III (August 1867), pages 181–18325; D.S.Z., XXII (August 1867), pages 245–246. Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch (game 280, pages 250–251), has more notes, e.g., from Journoud’s magazine Le Sphinx, volume 2, page 256.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Qh4 This was the first of several occasions that Steinitz chose this doubleedged move in an important game. Kolisch had played it himself with Black at Paris in 1863 against Ladislav Maczuski and lost a miniature. 5. Qd3 Nf6 6. N×c6 d×c6 7. Nd2 Bc5 8. g3 Qh5 9. Nb3 Bg4 10. Be3 Rd8 11. Qc4 B×e3 12. f×e3 0–0 D.S.Z.: Here 12. … Bf3 came into consideration. 13. Be2 Rfe8 14. Nd2 Qh6 15. Qb3 (see diagram) We are approaching the critical moment where Steinitz spoiled his chances of winning the tournament.

wDw4rDkD 0p0wDp0p wDpDwhw1 DwDwDwDw wDwDPDbD DQDw)w)w P)PHBDw) $wDwIwDR

After 15. Qb3

15. … N×e4?! In the post-mortem immediately after the game, Winawer pointed out that Steinitz should have played 15. … R×d2! and would thereby have gained a decisive advantage. 16. N×e4 R×e4 17. 0–0 Be6 18. Q×b7 R×e3 19. Q×c7

Re8? As the I.L.N. pointed out. Black could still win by 19. … Rc8! 20. Rad1 Qg5. 20. Bf3 Bc4 21. Rf2 Qf6 22. Q×c6 Q×b2 23. Rd1 Q×a2 24. Kg2 g6 25. Bd5 B×d5† 26. R×d5 Re2 27. Rd2 Qe6 28. Q×e6 R×f2† 29. K×f2 R×e6 30. Rd7 a6 31. Ra7 h5 32. c4 Kf8 33. c5 Ke8 34. Kf3 f5 35. Kf4 Kd8 36. Kg5 Kc8 37. h4 Kb8 38. Rd7 a5 39. Kh6 Ra6 40. Rd3 Kc7 41. Rc3 ½–½ The game was scored 0–0 for the tournament whereas Steinitz could have scored a whole point if he had seen either of the winning ideas. If all other results were unchanged, this would have meant a three-way tie for first between Steinitz, Kolisch, and Winawer at 19 points.

260. E. Rousseau–Steinitz Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (5.1), 17 June 1867 Giuoco Piano (C55) Bachmann (game 208); “Rivière” (game 67), pages 133–134.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. Nc3 Bc5 5. h3 d6 6. d3 Be6 7. Bb3 0–0 8. Bg5 Ne7 9. Qd2 Kh8 10. g4 c6 11. Nh4 d5 12. a3 Nd7 13. e×d5 c×d5 14. Ng2 f6 15. Bh4 Rc8 16. f4 Bg8 17. Ne2 e×f4 18. d4 f3 19. Ne3 f×e2 20. d×c5 N×c5 21.  Q×e2 N×b3 22.  c×b3 d4 23.  Rd1 Ng6 24.  Bf2 Re8 25. 0–0 Qb6 26. Nc4 B×c4 27. Q×e8† R×e8 28. b×c4 Nf4 29. Rfe1 R×e1† 30. B×e1 Qc6 31. Rd2 Qe4 32. Bg3 Qe3† 33. Rf2 Q×g3† 34. Kf1 Q×h3† 35. Ke1 Qe3† 36. Kf1 Qc1 mate (0–1).

261. Steinitz–E. Rousseau Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (5.2), 18 June 1867 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 209); “Rivière” (game 72), pages 142–143; The Era, 3 May 1868.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 B×g1 4. R×g1 c6 5. f×e5 d6 6. e×d6 Q×d6 7. g3 f5 8. Qe2 Ne7 9. d3 0–0 10. Bf4 Qd4 11. Be3 Qf6 12. 0–0–0 Ng6 13. Bg2 Na6 14. Rgf1 Qe7 15. h4 f×e4 16. Bg5 Qe6 17. h5 R×f1 18. R×f1 Ne5 19. N×e4 Q×a2 20. Nc3 Qe6 21. Re1 Nf7 22. Qd2 N×g5 23. R×e6 N×e6 24. h6 Bd7 25. Bh3 Re8 26. B×e6† B×e6 27. Qg5 1–0 The Era commented: “If Mr. Rousseau of the present game be the Mr. Rousseau who, some quarter of a century ago, made a good fight with Stanley, at that time Chess Champion of the United States, then—not to put too fine a point to it— Mr. R. has gone back pretty considerably in his play.” (It was indeed the same Rousseau and the statistics at www.edochess/ ca/players/p58.html would appear to concur with Staunton’s opinion.)

262. M. S. J. From–Steinitz Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (6.1), 19 June 1867 Giuoco Piano (C55) Bachmann (game 210); “Rivière” (game 79), pages 154–156; I.L.N., May 1868; T.C.W., IV (June 1868), pages 89–90.

6. Paris and Dundee, 1867

161

end as 31. … “T pr F.” (i.e., R×f8) answered by “32. T pr. C” which is illegal as White’s rook cannot capture a knight. If Black had played 31. … R×f8 the reply would surely have been 32. Rd7† winning the queen.

264. S. Loyd–Steinitz Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (7.1), 21 June 1867 Sicilian Defense (B21) Bachmann (game 212); “Rivière” (game 85), pages 166–167; T.C.W., IV (January 1869), pages 365–366.

1. e4 c5 2. f4 e6 3. Nf3 Nc6 4. c3 d5 5. e5 Nh6 6. Bb5 Be7 7. d4 0–0 8. Bd3 Qb6 9. Qc2 c×d4 10. c×d4 N×d4 11. N×d4 Q×d4 12. B×h7† Kh8 13. Bd3 Bd7 14. Nc3 Rfc8 15. a3 b5 16. Qe2? R×c3 17. b×c3 Q×c3† 18. Qd2 Q×a1 19. 0–0 B×a3 20. B×a3 Q×a3 21. h3 Rc8 22. g4 Rc3 23. Rd1 Bc6 24. g5 Nf5 25. Qe2 g6 26. B×f5 e×f5 27. e6 Qc5† 28. Kf1 Qc4 29. e×f7 Kg7 0–1

265. Steinitz–S. Loyd Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (7.2), 22 June 1867 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 213); “Rivière” (game 90), pages 174–175. Samuel Loyd, one of the American representatives at the Paris 1867 tournament, but subsequently better known as a chess problem composer. (Cleveland Public Library Digital Gallery.)

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. c3 Nf6 5. d4 e×d4 6. 0–0 N×e4 7.  c×d4 Be7 8.  d5 Nb8 9.  Qd4 Nf6 10.  d6 B×d6 11. Re1† Be7 12. Nc3 0–0 13. Bg5 h6 14. Bh4 Nc6 15. Qd2 Nh7 16. R×e7 N×e7 17. Nd5 g5 18. N×g5 Nf5 19. N×h7 Q×h4 20. Ndf6† Kg7 21. Qd3 d5 22. B×d5 Rd8 23. Qf3 R×d5 24. Q×d5 Be6 25. Q×b7 Rd8 26. Q×c7 Qd4 27. h3 Rc8 28. Qb7 Qb6 29. Q×b6 a×b6 30. g4 Ne7 31. a4 Bb3 32. Ra3 Bc2 33. Re3 Nc6 34. Nd5 K×h7 35. N×b6 Rb8… 0–1 The congress book said the manuscript became indecipherable at this point.

263. Steinitz–M. S. J. From Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (6.2), 20 June 1867 Falkbeer Counter-Gambit (C31) Bachmann (game 211); “Rivière” (game 80), pages 156–158.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 d5 3. e×d5 e4 4. Nc3 Nf6 5. Qe2 Bc5 6. d3 0–0 7. d×e4 c6 8. d6 Ng4 9. Nh3 Q×d6 10. Bd2 b5 11. 0–0–0 a5 12. e5 Qc7 13. Ne4 Be7 14. Nhg5 Nh6 15. Qd3 Bf5 16. h3 Na6 17. g4 Rfd8 18. Qf3 B×e4 19. Q×e4 g6 20. Bg2 Rac8 21. Qf3 Nb4 22. h4 N×a2† 23. Kb1 Nb4 24. h5 Bf8 25. h×g6 h×g6 26. Ne4 f5 27. Nf6† Kf7 28. B×b4 R×d1† 29. R×d1 Rd8 30. Qb3† Kg7 31. B×f8† The I.L.N. said Black resigned here, as does ChessBase, but Bachmann, Hooper and Pickard indicate that a further move pair was played. They all say the end was: 31. … K×f8 32. Rh1 1–0. The fault is with Rivière which (apart from other misprints in this game) gives the

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 f5 3. e×f5 Nf6 4. g4 h6 5. Bg2 d5 6. d3 Bc5 7. h3 0–0 8. Nge2 c6 9. Ng3 Qc7 10. h4 Qb6 11. Qe2 Bb4 12. a3 Qa5 13. a×b4 Q×a1 14. 0–0 Qa6 15. g5 h×g5 16. h×g5 Nfd7 17. N×d5 1–0

266. S. Winawer–Steinitz Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (8.1), 25 June 1867 Sicilian Defense (B30) Bachmann (game 215); “Rivière” (game 94), pages 182–185; T.C.W., IV (August 1868), pages 174–176; I.L.N., 11 July 1868. Steinitz could only split the points with Winawer in this event.

1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 e6 3. Nc3 Nc6 4. Bb5 Nge7 5. 0–0 Ng6 6. B×c6 b×c6 7. d3 Be7 8. Ne2 0–0 9. b3 d6 10. c4 f5 11. e×f5 e×f5 12. Nf4 N×f4 13. B×f4 g5 14. Bc1 g4 15. Ne1 f4 16. Bb2 Qe8 17. Qd2 Qh5 18. f3 g3 19. h3 Qg6 20. Nc2 Bf5 21. Rfe1 Bg5 22. Rad1 Rae8 23. R×e8 R×e8 24. Re1 R×e1† 25. N×e1 Qe6 26. Kf1 Kf7 27. Qe2 Qd7 28. Qd2 Kg6 29. Qc3 h5 30. Ba1 h4 31. Qb2 Qe7 32. Qe2 Qd7 33. Qb2 d5 34. Qe2 d4 35. Bb2 Be7 36. Bc1 Bd6 37. Bd2 Kf6 38. Kg1 Be5 39. Bc1 Qc8 40. Kf1 Qa6 41. Kg1 Qa5 42. Kf1 Qc3 43. Bd2 Qb2 44. Ba5 Q×e2† 45. K×e2 Ke7 46. Nc2 Kd7 47. Na3 Bd6 48. Nb1 Bc7 49. Be1 Kc8 50. Nd2 Kb7 51. Ne4 Kb6 52. Bd2 a5 53. Bc1 a4 54. Ba3 a×b3 55. B×c5† Ka5 56. a×b3 Be5 57. Nd2 Bh7 58. Nb1 Bf5 59. Na3 Bd7 60. Nc2 Bc8 61. N×d4 B×d4 62. B×d4 Kb4 63. Be5 K×b3 64. B×f4 Bf5 65. Kd2 … (1–0). Black resigned after several more moves, says Arnous de Rivière. The book is unusual in stating, at the end of most

162

Steinitz in London

games, the time taken by each player. In this case, however, the editors said that the duration was difficult to ascertain, but it is certain that both players exceeded the time stipulated in the tournament rules. One contemporary account of the tournament said: “Beside each player a little half hour glass was set, and he must make as many as 10 moves in the half hour.”26 Many commentators claimed that the time-keeping rule was more honored in the breach than in the observance. The rules even permitted the purchase of extra thinking time.

267. Steinitz–S. Winawer Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (8.2), 27 June 1867 French Defense (C01) Bachmann (game 216); “Rivière” (game 97), pages 189–191; I.L.N., 15 August 1868; N.B.S.Z. V (1868), pages 206–209; Pritchett (game 6), page 48.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e×d5 e×d5 5. Bd3 Be6 6. Nf3 h6?! 7. 0–0 B×c3 8. b×c3 Nd7 9. Rb1 Nb6 10. Ne5 Ne7 11. f4 Bf5 12. B×f5 N×f5 13. Ba3 Nd6 14. f5 Ne4 Neishtadt page 72. gives a partial continuation from here with the notes to move 15. 15. f6! g6 If 15. … N×f6 16. Qd3 or 15. … g×f6 16. Qh5 Rh7 17. Qg4 Ng5 18. Rbe1! f×e5 19. R×e5† Ne6 20. Qg8†. 16. Qg4 Threatening 17. Qe6†! f×e6 18. f7 mate. 16. … Qc8 17. Q×g6 Qe6 If 17. … f×g6 18. f7† Kd8 19. f8Q† R×f8 20. R×f8 mate. 18. Qg7 0–0–0 19. N×f7 N×c3 If 19. … Rdg8 20. N×h8! R×g7 21. f×g7 (Neishtadt). 20. N×d8 R×d8 21. f7 Nd7 22. Rbe1 Ne2† 23. Kh1 c5 24. B×c5 Qe4 25. f8Q N×f8 26. R×f8 Ng3† 27. Q×g3 R×f8 28. B×f8 1–0 The New York literary periodical Harper’s New Monthly Magazine carried two lengthy articles about the Paris exhibition, the second of which included nearly a page about the chess tournament, written by somebody fairly knowledgeable about chess, which included some vivid descriptions of certain competitors. Here are some extracts: There were few spots more attractive than that room in the Cercle International where the silent Knights of Caissa assembled daily for their tournament. There were five prizes, the first of which was a bowl of the Sèvres manufacture—not very handsome, and so large that one could hardly congratulate its winner. The other prizes were in money, and were offered chiefly by the Paris Club and the International Association, simply to furnish enough to pay the expenses of the eminent players who should attend. The fight between the Hungarian and the Austrian was extremely exciting. Steinitz, since he conquered Andersen [sic], has been thought of as the right man to meet Paul Morphy, should he revisit Europe. He is probably the youngest man, except De Vere, in the room, and is small, thickset, has high cheek-bones, and a wide forehead with red hair falling on it, and a circle of red beard around his mouth; his eye is steady, and he plays a cool, close game. Kolisch, who finally won, is quite young also, and handsome; he has fine dark eyes full of humor. He surpassed Steinitz if at all (they are nearly equals) in subtlety and chess-culture…. It was with some astonishment that the blond youth from the region of Bismarck [i.e., Neumann] was observed coming forward until he had got a step beyond Steinitz in the general race, and was only

beaten by having one more lost than Kolisch. De Vere is the boy of the assembly. His chess-play is the result of genius, and it has more beauty in it than any play I ever saw except that of Morphy. Two others present struck me as having some genius—Czarnowski, whose keen, sharp eyes and fine features betrayed a bad temperament for patient play—and Golmayo, whose forehead rose up above his thick black beard like a marble pillar. It is a pity America was not better represented on this occasion. Rousseau has gifts, but is chronically out of play. Lloyd [sic], with an admirable tact and power, has turned his powers so constantly to problems that it has been impossible he should keep step with all the modern developments of gambits…. One or two other good chessplayers from America, among others Dr. Richardson of Boston, made their appearance at the rooms, but too late to enter the lists. The games played were generally “close,” but some of them very remarkable.27

268. Steinitz–A. E. M. d’André Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (9.1), 28 June 1867 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Bachmann (game 218); “Rivière” (game 101), pages 199–200; The Era, 18 July 1869. As a curiosity, it may be noted that in the crosstable for Paris 1867 in Di Felice’s Chess Results (volume 1, page 46) the name of Baron Adolphe Emile Maxime D’André (1827–1900) cannot be found. In his place is written “Mingrelia of Dadian, Andrey,” which is not even the correct name of that player.28

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6 4. Bc4 Qf6 5. f5 h6 6. Nc3 Ne7 7. d3 c6 8. Qe2 b5 9. Bb3 a5 10. g4 g5 11. a3 a4 12. Ba2 Bb7 13. h4 Nd7 14. h×g5 h×g5 15. R×h8† Q×h8 16. B×g5 Qh1† 17. Qf1 Q×f1† 18. K×f1 f6 19. Bh4 0–0–0 20. g5 f×g5 21.  B×g5 Rh8 22.  Kg2 d5 23.  B×e7 B×e7 24.  e×d5 Rf8 25. Rh1 R×f5 26. Rh7 Kd8 27. d6 Rg5† 28. N×g5 B×g5 29. Rh8† 1–0. Each player spent just three-quarters of an hour on their moves, so the second game was played on the same day. Steinitz only did that twice in the tournament: in the first round and in this case. Bachmann printed the two games in the reverse order to that given by Arnous de Rivière, followed in this book.

269. A. E. M. d’André–Steinitz Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (9.1), 28 June 1867 Four Knights Game (C48) Bachmann (game 217); “Rivière” (game 102), pages 201–202; T.C.W., IV (February 1869), pages 406–407. No exact times are given but Arnous de Rivière says both men played rapidly. This is more plausible if this was the second game they played that day; Bachmann places this game before the one where Steinitz had White, which seems incorrect. There is no obvious reason why he reversed the order given in the tournament book.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. Nc3 Bc5 5. 0–0 d6 6. B×c6† b×c6 7. d3 Bg4 8. Be3 Bb6 9. Ne2 Qd7 10. Nh4 g5 11. B×g5 Nh5 12. Be3 Qe7 13. Nf5 B×f5 14. B×b6 B×e4 15. Be3 Bd5 16. c4 Be6 17. f4 f6 18. Nd4 e×d4 19. Q×h5†

6. Paris and Dundee, 1867 Bf7 20. Qf3 Q×e3† 21. Q×e3† d×e3 22. Rae1 Kd7 23. R×e3 Rae8 24. Ref3 Re2 25. Rb1 Rg8 26. g3 Bh5 27. Rff1 Rge8 28. h3 R8e3 29. g4 Rg3† 30. Kh1 R×h3† 31. Kg1 Rhh2 0–1

270. Steinitz–G. R. L. Neumann Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (10.1), 1 July 1867 King’s Gambit (C38) Bachmann (game 219); “Rivière” (game 112), pages 220–223; T.C.W., IV (July 1868), pages 139–142 (saying that its notes were not taken from the tournament book); I.L.N., 27 June 1868; N.B.S.Z., V (1868), pages 147–150; D.S.Z., XXIII (1868), pages 207–209. This game was played on a sultry afternoon which ended in a thunderstorm.29

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. d4 d6 6. 0–0 h6 7. c3 Nc6 8. Qb3 Qe7 9. Na3 Nf6 10. Bd3 Nh5 11. Bd2 0–0 12. Bc2 a6 13. Qc4 Kh8 14. Rae1 Qd8 15. g3?! g4 16. Nh4 f3?? 17. Qd3 Nf6 18. h3 18. N×f3 was suggested in N.B.S.Z. 1868, in note e) on page 149, and 18. Nc4 in T.C.W. 18. … Ne7 19. Nc4? Better 19. h×g4. 19. … b5 20. Ne3 h5 21. Neg2 21. Nd5! Renette/Zavatarelli. 21. … c5 22. Bb1 f×g2? 23. R×f6 B×f6 24. e5 Ng6 25. e×f6?! Q×f6 26. d×c5 g×h3 27. c4 Kg8 28. Bc3 b×c4? 29. Qd5 Bb7! 30. Q×h5?? Rfe8 31. Rd1 Ne5 32. c×d6 Rad8 33. Qh7† Kf8 34. Bf5 a5 35. d7 Re7 36. B×a5 Rd×d7? 36. … Nd3!= Renette/Zavatarelli. 37. B×d7 N×d7 38. Bb4 Ke8 39. Kh2?? g1Q† 40. K×g1 Qb6† 41. Kh2 Q×b4 42. Qc2 Re1 43. Nf5 R×d1 44. Q×d1 Q×b2† 45. K×h3 Qg2† 46. Kh4 Bd5 47. Qe1† Be6 48. Ng7† Ke7 49. Qb4† Kf6 50. Nh5† Ke5 0–1

163

B×e4 29. N×e4 Qh6 30. Qa3 Qf4 31. Rf1 Qe5 32. Kg2 Rd8 33. Rd1 Ne8 34. Ng3 Nf6 35. f4 Qd6 36. Qb2 Q×f4 37. Rf1 Qe5 38. Q×e5 R×e5 39. R×f6 Re×d5 40. Kh3 c6 41. Bc4 R5d6 42.  Rf5 b5 43.  Bb3 b6 44.  Ne4 Rh6† 45.  Kg3 c5 46. Bd5 Rg6 47. h4 c4 48. h5 Rg7 49. Ng5 Renette & Zavatarelli give 49. Nd6!. 49. … c3 50. Bb3 Rc8 (see diagram)

After 50. … Rc8

wDrDwDwi DwDwDw4p w0wDwDwD DpDwDRHP wDwDwDPD DB0wDwIw PDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw

51. Nf7†? The old commentators failed to identify this as the point where Neumann missed the win; he should have played 51. Bc2 as analyzed by Müller. 51. … R×f7 52. R×f7 c2 53. B×c2 R×c2 54. h6 Kg8 55. Rg7† Kh8 56. Ra7 Kg8 57.  g5 Rc4 58.  Rg7† Kh8 59.  Rb7 Kg8 60.  R×b6 Ra4 61. R×b5 R×a2 Bringing about a drawn seven-man endgame. 62. Rb8† Kf7 63. Rb7† Kg6 64. Rg7† Kh5 65. Kf4 Rf2† 66. Ke5 Rf1 67. Ke6 Rf2 68. Ke7 Rf5 69. R×h7 R×g5 70. Rh8 Rg6 71. h7 Kh6 ½–½. The duration of this game was close to eight hours.

All primary sources end here saying “and Black won the game” or similar. Bachmann has a continuation whose origin cannot be traced: 51. Qe1† Kd4 52. Qd1† Kc5 53. Nf4 Qe4 54. Qh5† Qf5 55. N×e6† f×e6 56. Qe2 Nf6.

Despite scoring zero against Neumann, Steinitz finished ahead of him in the standings, but those games effectively meant that he could not win first prize. He scored two wins against Rosenthal without play and then his last two games were against de Vere.

271. G. R. L. Neumann–Steinitz

272. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz

Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (10.2), 4 July 1867 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 220); “Rivière” (game 121), pages 236–241; T.C.W., IV (August 1868), pages 170–173. For other notes see Renette/Zavatarelli book on Neumann, game 584 on pages 275–276.

Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (11.1), 9 July 1867 Dutch Defense (A10) Bachmann (game 221); “Rivière” (game 130), pages 256– 260; T.C.W., IV (October 1868), pages 248–250.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d6 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. d5 Nce7 With this move and his next, Steinitz introduced a new line of defense against the Evans but it proved unsuccessful and was soon abandoned. 10. e5 Nh6 11. Nc3 0–0 12. Ne4 Zukertort (in an article in the March 1874 Westminster Papers (page 224) argued that White can obtain a strong attack by 12. B×h6 g×h6 13. Qd2 d×e5 14. Ne4. 12. … d×e5 13. B×h6 g×h6 14. N×e5 Nf5 15. Ng4 Kh8 16. Rb1 Qh4 17. R×b6 a×b6 18. Qa1† f6 19. Ng×f6 Ng7 20. g3 Qh3 21. Re1 Qf5 22. Be2 If 22. g4 (Rivière) 22. … Qg6! (Renette/Zavatarelli). 22. … h5 23. N×h5 Qg6 24. Rc1 Rf7 25. Nhf6 Re7 26. f3 Bf5 27. Qb2 Rf8 28. g4

1. c4 f5 2. e3 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. d4 Qe7 5. Bd3 Nc6 6. a3 g6 7. Nf3 Bg7 8. 0–0 0–0 9. b4 b6 10. Bb2 Bb7 11. Rc1 Nd8 12. Bb1 Nf7 13. d5 g5 14. Nb5 g4 15. Ne5 Ne8 16. Nd3 e5 17. Ne1 a6 18. Nc3 e4 19. Qb3 h5 20. Ne2 h4 21. Nf4 Qg5 22. c5 B×b2 23. Q×b2 Ng7 24. Ba2 Bc8 25. c×b6 c×b6 26. d6 Bb7 27. Nc2 Bc6 28. Nd4 Qf6 29. Rfd1 Kh7 30. B×f7 R×f7 31. Qb3 Bb7 32. Rc7 Rb8 33. Qc4 Ne8 34. Nh5 Qg6 35. Ne2 b5 36. Qb3 N×c7 37. d×c7 Rbf8 38. Nhf4 Qb6 39. Rc1 d5 40. Qb2 Rc8 41. Qe5 Rc×c7 42. R×c7 Q×c7 43. Qe6 Kg7 44. Qg6† Kh8 45. Qh6† Kg8 46. Qg6† Kh8 47. Qh5† Kg8 48. Q×h4 Qe7 49. Qh5 Qf6 50. Nd4 Bc6 51.  h4 Rh7 52.  Qg5† Q×g5 53.  h×g5 Rc7 54.  Nfe6 Re7 55. Nc5 Bd7 56. Kh2 Bc8 57. Kg3 Kg7 58. Kf4 Re8 59. Nc6 Kf7 60. Na7 Kg6 61. Nc6 Kg7 62. g3 Kg6 63. Ne5† Kg7

164

Steinitz in London the wins by forfeit. The table in Di Felice uses asterisks for draws and suffers from the naming error mentioned already. Those in the books about Kolisch and Neumann show the correct totals for each player but there is a small error in each one.31 The present work shows drawn games as = because they did not count half a point. Unplayed games are shown as + and – as in the previous crosstables in this book. The Chess World carried a critical article about the tournament in its September issue by “An Excursionist.” The anonymous writer, who signed himself “C.W.W.” at the end, wrote that: “Those who remember the programme as at first set forth, will doubtless feel how far short of the promise has been the performance.”32 Firstly, two or three people were required with “good heads for organization” and who did not compete for the prizes. (The writer was thinking of Löwenthal in 1862, but in 1867 both Arnous de Rivière and Fraser failed to learn from his sad example and entered their own tournaments.) Secondly, “plenty of money should be forthcoming” because it was expensive for the players to spend several weeks in Paris especially when “they could not be induced to play more than five games per week.” C.C.W. then went on to make allegations about the propensities of professional players, accusing one (not named) of having thrown games to opponents. Moreover, in a footnote to the same article, Staunton claimed to have received a letter from an eminent member of the Paris committee (presumably Arnous de Rivière) complaining about the behavior of “disreputable professionals” and describing one of them, surely Steinitz, as “a well-known foreign player, notorious for his turbulence and ill manners.” The committee took the precaution of making each competitor sign his agreement to the regulations.33 Zavatarelli’s book on Kolisch discusses the tournament’s unsatisfactory organization at some length, and identifies de Vere as the most likely suspect in the case.34 Game 273 would appear to support that hypothesis. De Vere had lost

64. Nb3 Rh8 65. Nc6 Rh2 66. Ne7 R×f2† 67. Ke5 f4 68. e×f4 e3 69. Nd4 e2 70. Nc2 Rf1 71. f5 e1Q† 72. N×e1 R×e1† 73. Kd6 R×e7 74. f6† Kf7 75. f×e7 Bf5 76. K×d5 K×e7 0–1

273. Steinitz–C. V. de Vere Emperor’s Prize tournament, Paris (11.2), 10 July 1867 Owen’s Defense (B00) Bachmann (game 214); “Rivière” (game 132), pages 262–263, saying each player spent only half an hour on the game.

1. e4 b6 2. d4 Bb7 3. Bd3 d6 4. Ne2 Nd7 5. 0–0 e5 6. c3 Ngf6 7. f3 h5? 8. Be3 h4 9. Nd2 Nh5 10. f4 e×f4 11. N×f4 N×f4 12. B×f4 g5? 13. Be3 Qe7 14. Qb3 d5 15. Rae1 0–0–0 16. e×d5 1–0 Had de Vere beaten Steinitz 2–0, they would have shared fourth prize and Neumann would have finished third (assuming he could win his last two games, which he did). Any outcome other than what actually occurred would have benefited the German. After Steinitz had won their first game, de Vere had nothing left to play for. In their comment to the second game, the editors wrote: “Mr. de Vere is far from playing with the judgment he possesses; it seems that he was indifferent to the result of this game…. Mr. Steinitz played well, but without having to fight.”30 One may surmise that before the last game they had made a deal and de Vere showed his contempt by throwing it away with beginner’s pawn moves, then took his revenge a few weeks later by defeating Steinitz in style at Dundee. The evidence is circumstantial only. De Vere was capable of playing with great carelessness, even sometimes when it mattered, notably his 12-move loss to Blackburne in the B.C.A. Challenge Cup (February 1869). The crosstable in the tournament book is confusing because it shows 0 for draws and –for losses while in the column for wins only games actually played are counted, not Paris 1867 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Kolisch, Ignaz Winawer, Szymon A. Steinitz, William Neumann, Gustav R. de Vere, Cecil V. Arnous de Rivière, Jules Golmayo Zupide, Celso Czarnowski, Hieronym I. Rosenthal, Samuel Loyd, Samuel D'André, A. Emile M. From, Martin S. J. Rousseau, Eugene

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

Pts

• 10 0= 10 00 00 00 00 =0 00 00 –– 00

01 • 10 10 00 –– 00 00 0= 00 00 00 01

1= 01 • 1= 00 00 00 =0 –– 00 00 00 00

01 01 0= • =0 00 00 =0 1= 00 00 00 00

11 11 11 =1 • 10 00 00 10 00 00 –– 00

11 ++ 11 11 01 • 01 –– 00 00 0 11 00

11 11 11 11 11 10 • 10 –– 11 00 00 00

11 11 =1 =1 11 ++ 01 • –– 00 10 10 00

=1 1= ++ =0 01 11 ++ ++ • 1= ++ 00 00

11 11 11 11 11 11 00 11 0= • 00 11 10

11 11 11 11 11 =1 11 01 –– 11 • –– 01

++ 11 11 11 ++ 00 11 10 11 00 ++ • ++

11 10 11 11 11 11 11 11 11 01 10 –– •

20 19 18 17 14 11 10 9 6 6 6 5 5

At Paris draws (shown as =) scored zero and were not replayed. Unplayed games are shown as – for the player who forfeited, + for the opponent.

6. Paris and Dundee, 1867

165

both his games to Kolisch (on 2 and 4 July), after which he was effectively in fifth place. Although he then defeated the tail-ender Emile d’André 2–0, it was more beneficial to the “English” contingent that Steinitz, not de Vere, won their encounter.

274. I. Kolisch and S. Rosenthal–Steinitz and S. Loyd Alternation game, Paris, June or July 1867 King’s Bishop’s Gambit (C33) From the American Chess Journal 1876 (ed. Hallock) page 32. This was an alternation game, played at an unknown date during the Paris Congress. Perhaps it was on the day prior to the prize-giving when the players would have been at a loose end. In this type of game, usually played for the amusement of the participants and spectators, the partners play alternate moves without consultation. In his book about Kolisch, Zavatarelli quoted from Loyd’s introduction to the game and also included some notes from Salvioli who said, for example, that 15. Kf2 would have been an improvement.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Bc4 d5 4. B×d5 Nf6 5. d4 N×d5 6. e×d5 g5 7. Qe2† Qe7 8. Nc3 Bg4 9. Nf3 B×f3 10. g×f3 Q×e2† 11. K×e2 Nd7 12. Nb5 0–0–0 13. N×a7† Kb8 14. Nb5 Nb6 15. Kd3 N×d5 16. c4 Nb4† 17. Kc3 Nc6 18. d5 Bg7† 19. Kc2 Ne5 20. b3 N×f3 21. Bb2 B×b2 22. K×b2 c6 23. Nc3 Ne5 24. Rad1 g4 25. d6 Rhe8 26. c5 f3 27. Rd4 f5 28. Na4 Nd7 29. Rf4 Re5 30. b4 Re4 31. R×f5 R×b4† 32. Ka3 Re4 33. Rf7 R×a4† 34. K×a4 N×c5† 35. Kb4 Na6† 36. Ka5 R×d6 37. Rb1 Nc5 38. R×h7 Ka7 39. Rf7 Rd4 40. Rb4 Rd2 41. R×g4 Rb2 42. a4 Rb6 43. R×f3 Nb3† 44. R×b3 R×b3 45. Rg5 b6 mate (0–1). Immediately after the tournament, Neumann challenged all the three top prize-winners to matches, but only Winawer accepted (and was beaten). Neumann also defeated Golmayo and Rosenthal in matches.35 In his new magazine La Stratégie, Jean-Louis Preti accused the other prizewinners of cowardice: “As for Messrs. Kolisch and Steinitz, they fear to compromise, by chance, a success in which good fortune has played a certain part.”36 It should be recognized, though, that Steinitz probably wanted to bring his prize money home to his “common-law wife” and little daughter after two months in expensive Paris, whereas Neumann was living in that city at the time so there was no extra cost to him in playing matches there after the tournament. The aforementioned article in The Chess World said that Kolisch “would only play on terms which amounted to a refusal,” while Steinitz “refused for a time, but has consented to a match to be played in Dundee.” This did not happen, but Steinitz won their meeting at that tournament (Game 277) to equalize the score between them. Comments by Boden on the final outcome of the tournament suggest that there might now have been some interest

Gustav R. L. Neumann, winner at Dundee and fourth in Paris. Photograph by J. Valentine of Dundee. (Cleveland Public Library Digital Gallery.)

in England for a Steinitz match, but more so with Kolisch who, however, had now played the last serious games of his career, thereafter concentrating on business and finance. The result of the international tournament will probably cause Mr. Kolisch to be regarded facile princeps [i.e., first among equals] and it may indeed be fairly doubted whether any one among them is his superior; yet we should like to see a set match of some eleven games contested between him and Winavere [sic], Neumann, or Steinitz before venturing to form any decided opinion as to their relative skill or strength.37

Dundee Congress 1867 The Dundee Chess Congress was held in that town, beginning on 4 September, along with several other cultural events, especially the 37th annual meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science.38 Several of the chess players sailed up to Scotland in a coaster from London, departing on 31 August, in the company of people attending that meeting.39 The chess tournaments (of which there were three) were to be played in the Board Room of the Caledonian Railway headquarters at South Union Street, Dundee, although some contemporary newspaper reports mistakenly

166

Steinitz in London

said this was in Perth.40 The Era, replying to a correspondent on 1 September, said that the local organizers would have done better not to involve the B.C.A. in their plans; in view of Staunton’s known loathing for that body, and the typical long-winded style of the following paragraph, this is good evidence that he was conducting that column in 1867: We are disposed to think with you, that our friends in Dundee have not exhibited much of their national canniness in allowing the meeting to be connected in any way with that national windbag, the B.C.A. If the players of Dundee—many of them excellent, most of them animated by the right feeling—had relied on themselves and their own resources, they could have ensured a first-rate assembly, and, what is more, an harmonious one. We fear their gathering now will be neither one nor the other.

This presumably meant that Staunton expected Steinitz to cause trouble, but he only did so at the end. Dundee, on the whole and despite the very mixed quality of the field, does appear to have been harmonious and some good games were played. A preliminary meeting was held in the railroad offices on Tuesday, 3 September to decide arrangements: “To obviate the difficulty experienced in the recent Grand Tourney at Paris, it was also proposed that each draw should be reckoned as half a game.” Thus Dundee became the first international tournament to employ the half-point scoring system. Another innovation (in theory) was that the draw was organized in rounds, with each player in action at the same time and venue, playing one game per day. Competitors knew which color they would have against each opponent but not when they would meet, since the next day’s pairings were only drawn in time for them to be published in the local papers. In embryo, this was the same as the system later used at Hastings 1895 and some other tournaments later in the century, but in practice some games were played in advance. The time limit, monitored by sand glasses, was four minutes per move, probably divided into 20-move segments as had been the case in the 1866 B.C.A. Congress, so move 20 had to be completed within 80 minutes, whereas in the former tournament two hours had been allowed for every 20 moves.41 The international tournament began at 11 a.m. on the morning after the preliminary meeting, but it was eventually decided that the Handicap tournament would not be commenced until the main competition had ended, because some of the competitors had also entered the tournament restricted to Scotsmen. The field for the main Dundee tournament was mixed in strength and experience. The presence of Steinitz and Neumann together with the British Champion de Vere gave the tournament cachet as an international tournament. Additionally there was MacDonnell, who had done well in London five years previously, and Blackburne, whose tournament career was thus restarting after a five year interval. Blackburne’s blindfold play had established for him a reputation

far beyond what his results in ordinary play so far could justify. It is unsurprising that he made a poor start, but this was a stepping-stone to his first great success a year later. On the other hand, the Scottish contingent and the Germanborn amateur Sigismund Hamel (1823–1897) were clearly much weaker and between them managed only one draw against the top four. This was achieved against de Vere by George Fraser who was overburdened with organizational and publicity responsibilities for the tournament and did not play all his games.42 Dr. Fraser achieved the best result of the Scots, ahead of the Glasgow lawyer Walter Cook Spens (1842–1900) and veteran Colonel James Alexander Robertson (1804?–1874), who had played in the Provincial Tournament of the 1851 London congress. The invitation to Nottingham lace merchant Hamel was probably due to his brother Ludovic (Ludwig) Hamel, who then lived in Manchester, having been a founder member of the Dundee club.43 A selection of the Dundee games was published in 1868 in Transactions 66/67 and there is also a modern tournament book edited by Tony Gillam (henceforth referred to as “Gillam 1867,” but several game scores (including three of Steinitz’s) were lost to posterity. Two other recent McFarland biographies about Dundee competitors (Blackburne and Neumann) discuss this tournament from the point of view of their subjects, so for further detail about the event and more games, the reader is referred to them.44

Dundee International, Round 1, 4 September 1867 Steinitz 1 W. C. Spens 0 GAME MISSING. The colors are uncertain.

Steinitz beat Spens, who is usually styled “Sheriff Spens” in chess sources but he did not yet hold that title in 1867. He was appointed Sheriff Substitute for Lanarkshire in 1870. In round 2, de Vere played one of the greatest games of his life. The Dundee Advertiser, 6 September, observed: “A brilliant little game between De Vere and Steinitz—won in magnificent style by the young English champion—attracted the attention of most of the visitors, amongst whom we noticed a sprinkling of the fair sex.” This game was published in many sources and chosen by Steinitz himself to be reprinted in The Field, 17 April 1875, after de Vere’s death. It can also be found in Bird’s Chess Masterpieces, game 138 on page 123, and Hindle and Jones’s book on de Vere, pages 85– 86.45

275. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Dundee international (2), 5 September 1867 Ruy Lopez (C67) Bachmann (game 189), from The Field, 28 September 1867, page 265; C.P.M., ns 3 (October 1867), page 296; T.C.W., III (November 1867), pages 298–300; Transactions 66/67, pages 70–71.

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1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 N×e4 5. Re1 Nd6 6. N×e5 N×e5 7. R×e5† Be7 8. d4 f6 Steinitz: “A weak move based on the hallucination that the hostile Rook would be forced to move to d5 which would have enabled Black to win at least the Exchange by 9. … c6 and overlooking White’s reply on the 10th move.” 9. Re1 N×b5 10. Qh5† g6 11. Q×b5 c6 12. Qb3 d5 13. c4 Kf7 14. Nc3 d×c4 15. Q×c4† Kg7 16. d5 c×d5? 17. N×d5 Bf8 18. N×f6 Q×f6 19. Bd2 b5 20. Qd5 b4 21. Rac1 Qf7 22. Q×a8 Be6 23. Qe4 B×a2 24. Qe5† Kg8 25. Rc7 Qd5 26. Q×d5† B×d5 27. Re8 1–0 The Transactions, C.P.M., and T.C.W. all say Black resigned here. Bachmann and Pickard have further moves: 27. … Bf7 28. R×f8† K×f8 29. B×b4† Kg7 30. Bc3† Kg8 31. Rc8†.

Dundee International, Round 3, 6 September 1867 J. H. Blackburne 1 Steinitz 0 GAME MISSING. The colors are uncertain, as Gillam says.

The Dundee Advertiser, 7 September (page 2), said: “The round just finished gave rise to several very instructive games, amongst which we may especially mention those betwixt Herr Neumann and Rev. G. A. McDonnell [sic], and Messrs. Blackburne and Steinitz.” That makes it all the more surprising that nobody published the moves. The Dundee Courier, 7 September, says only that “Mr. Blackburne won from Herr Steinitz” and only The Field (21 September 1867, page 244) says Steinitz lost on time. A report in the Dundee Courier on Friday, 6 September shows the total scores of each player after the previous day. Most competitors had played two games but MacDonnell had already defeated Robertson so they had met out of turn. Gillam 67 shows that the official situation after three rounds was: Dr. Fraser, MacDonnell and Neumann 2½, G. B. Fraser and de Vere 1½, Blackburne, Hamel, Robertson, and Steinitz 1 point apiece, and Spens ½ (who made his only score in round 2). For the reason just stated, MacDonnell actually had 3½ points after three days’ play.

276. Steinitz–The Rev. G. A. MacDonnell Dundee international (4), 7 September 1867 Sicilian Defense (B46) Bachmann (game 192); The Era, 10 January 1869; Transactions 66/67, page 91; Gillam 67, page 19; Devidé, page 21.

1. e4 c5 2. Nc3 Bachmann and some who follow him transposed White’s 2nd and 3rd moves. 2. … Nc6 3. Nf3 e6 4. d4 c×d4 5. N×d4 a6 6. g3 Bc5 7. N×c6 b×c6 8. e5 Qb6 9. Qd2 Ne7 10. Ne4 0–0 11. Bd3 Ng6 12. f4 d6 13. e×d6 f5 14. N×c5 Q×c5 15. Qc3 Q×d6 16. b3 a5 17. a3 Qd5 18. Rf1 Ra7 19. Bb2 c5 20.  0–0–0 Qc6 21.  h4 Rff7 22.  h5 Ne7 23.  Bc4 Nd5 24. Qe5 Qc7 25. R×d5 e×d5 26. Qe8† Rf8 27. B×d5† Qf7 28. B×f7† Ra×f7 29. Qe5 Rf6 30. h6 1–0

This is the earliest known photograph of Joseph Henry Blackburne, by Thrupp of New Street, Birmingham, probably taken some time between 1867 and 1871. (It is reproduced here by kind permission of Liverpool Chess Club, who discovered it among their papers during 2017.)

The Dundee Courier, 10 September, reported that there were many visitors at the fifth round “including several ladies who took a keen interest in the various games.” Among the male spectators the paper named “Baron Ebner, Colonel in the Austrian Engineers” as well as George Armitstead (who became MP for Dundee the following year), and (Thomas) Barnes of the London Chess Club. They all chose a good day to visit because this was the first time that Steinitz played his eponymous gambit and he inflicted the only defeat on the tournament’s eventual victor.

277. Steinitz–G. R. L. Neumann Dundee international (5), 9 September 1867 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 188); The Field, 5 October 1867; Transactions 67, pages 92–93; Neishtadt, pages 66–70. For annotations, see Renette and Zavatarelli’s book on Neumann (game 609 on pages 291–292).

168

Steinitz in London

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 Qh4† 5. Ke2 d6 6. Nf3 Bg4 7. B×f4 B×f3† 8. K×f3 Nge7 9. Be2 0–0–0 10. Be3 Qf6† 11. Kg3 d5 12. Bg4† Kb8 13. e5 Qg6 14. Kf2 h5 15. Bh3 f6 15. … Nf5! Renette/Zavatarelli. 16. e×f6 Q×f6† 17. Qf3 Q×f3† 18. g×f3 g6 19. Ne2 Nf5? 19. … Bh6=. 20. B×f5 g×f5 21. c3 Bd6 22. Bf4 Kc8 23. Rhg1 Kd7 24. Rg7† Ne7 25. Rag1 Ke6 26. B×d6 R×d6 27. Nf4† Kf6 28. Nd3 Rb6 29. b3 Rh6 30. Ne5 Rb5 31. a4 Ra5 32. b4 Ra6 33. Nd7† 1–0 Many years later G. B. Fraser wrote to John G. White: I intend trying my hand on Steinitz’s Gambit one of these days, for the CP Chronicle. It was first played here & I offered to play him at 10 to 1 so convinced was I of its unsoundness at that time—and my opinion remains unchanged today. He has done wonders with it however but all I think were first experiences on the part of his opponents. The defence is difficult.46

278. G. B. Fraser–Steinitz Dundee international (6), 10 September 1867 Ruy Lopez (C60) Bachmann (game 190); C.P.M., ns 3 (October 1867), pages 298–299; Transactions 66/67, pages 74–75; N.B.S.Z., IV (1867), pages 262–264; B.L.L., 25 January 1868; Steinitz, Modern Chess Instructor (Part 2), page 28.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nge7 4. c3 d5 A more usual route to the same position is via the Ponziani: 3. c3 d5 4. Bb5 Nge7. 5. N×e5 d×e4 6. Qa4 Qd5 7. N×c6 N×c6 8. B×c6† Q×c6 9. Q×c6† b×c6 Steinitz: “The exchanges are in Black’s favor. For the ending the little inconvenience from Black’s doubled pawns on the Queenside is more than outweighed by the combination of the two Bishops with their freedom of activity and the suppression of White’s d-pawn.” 10. 0–0 Ba6 11. Re1 Bd3 12. c4 f5 13. b3 Bc5 14. Bb2 0–0–0 15. B×g7 Steinitz: “The danger of this capture is sufficiently reflected by appearances.” 15. … Rhg8 16. Bc3 Rd6?! Steinitz pointed out that he should have captured on g2 at once, because after the text White could have defended better by 17. g3. 17. b4? R×g2†! Steinitz: “We do not remember any similar instance of a sacrifice of such heavy material after the exchange of Queens.” 18. K×g2 Rg6† 19. Kh1 B×f2 20. Na3 e3 21. h4 e2 22. Be5 Rg4 23. Kh2 f4 24. Nc2 f3 25. Bf6 B×c2 0–1

Dundee International, Round 7, 11 September 1867 Steinitz 1 J. Robertson 0 GAME MISSING. The colors are uncertain, as Gillam says.

279. Steinitz–S. Hamel Dundee international, 11? September 1867 Scandinavian Defense (B01) Bachmann (game 191); Transactions 66/67, page 90; B.L.L., 25 January 1868. This game, due to have been in the final round, must have been played in advance, on the 10th, 11th or 12th of September.47

1. e4 d5 2. e×d5 Q×d5 3. Nc3 Qe5† 4. Be2 Bg4 5. d4 B×e2 6. Ng×e2 Qh5 7. Bf4 Na6 8. d5 0–0–0 9. Qd4 e6 10. Q×a7 Nf6 11. Qa8† Nb8 12. Be3 Bb4 13. Ba7 Q×d5 14. 0–0 Qc6 15. B×b8 B×c3 16. N×c3 Kd7 17. Rad1† Nd5 18. Qa5 b6 19. Qb4 R×b8 20. Nb5 Qc5 21. Qb3 Ke7 22. c4 Nf6 23. Qg3 Rb7 24. Rfe1 Rc8 25. Q×g7 Q×c4 26. Nd4 Qd5 27. Re5! Rg8 28. Nf5† Ke8 29. Re×d5 e×d5 30. Re1† 1–0

280. Dr. J. C. Fraser–Steinitz Dundee international, 12 September 1867 Bird’s Defense (A85) Bachmann (game 193); Transactions 67, pages 92–94.

1. d4 f5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. e3 b6 5. Nf3 Bb7 6. Be2 Qe7 7. Bd2 Nc6 8. Rc1 g6 9. Qc2 Bg7 10. a3 a6 11. 0–0 g5 Transactions: “Played, undoubtedly, to obtain an attack upon the hostile King, yet hardly safe in so short a match.” 12. N×g5 Rg8 13. f4 Bh8 14. Rf2 h6 15. Nh3 Ng4 16. Rf3 Qh4 17. Be1 Qh5 18. d5 Ne7 19. e4 Bd4† 20. Kh1 B×c3 21. b×c3 f×e4 22. Rg3 Qf5 23. B×g4 R×g4 24. R×g4 Q×g4 25. Q×e4 e×d5 26. Qe5 d6 27. Qf6? d×c4 28. Bg3 Q×h3 0–1 Although nominally a round 8 game, that was the last Steinitz played in the tournament. The Dundee Advertiser on Friday, 13 September (the day the final round was due to be played) shows that four competitors, including Steinitz, had already completed their schedules. His score was 7 wins and 2 losses. This meant that he was, to use a golfing term, “leader in the club-house.” He could only be equaled or overtaken by Neumann who had so far scored 6 wins, a draw and a loss. G. B. Fraser, on the last day, tried his best to resist Neumann but ultimately had to resign, meaning the Prussian was victorious (winning £40) and Steinitz took the £20 second prize. In the only other game played on Friday, 13 September, de Vere defeated Spens and thus shared the £10 third prize with MacDonnell. Fraser left two games unplayed, which he conceded (to Blackburne and Dr. Fraser) because they did not affect the prizes. The Dundee Courier and Argus of 10 September said: “The arrangements for the Handicap Tourney were completed last evening. Sixteen competitors have entered, and play will commence forthwith.” Two days later the plan had changed and it was now said that it “will not in all likelihood be commenced until the end of the present or beginning of next week.” Nothing was done until after the main tournament had concluded. The Dundee Courier and Argus, Saturday, 14 September, said it had begun the previous night, but the only game played then was a win for Spens against George Fraser, who conceded him pawn and two moves. The Courier printed the class assignments and it made it clear that this was a 16player knockout with the first decisive game to count. The pairings for round 1 included Blackburne–de Vere and Steinitz–MacDonnell while Neumann was drawn against a fourth class opponent. Most of the games in the first round

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of the Handicap were probably played on Dundee 1867 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Pts. Saturday, 14 September, but MacDonnell 1. Neumann, Gustav R. • 0 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 7½ ultimately opted to withdraw which gave 2. Steinitz, William 1 • 1 0 0 1 1 1 1 1 7 Steinitz a bye through to the second 3. MacDonnell, George A. ½ 0 • 0 1 1 1 1 1 1 6½ round. This was apparently because de de Vere, Cecil V. 0 1 1 • 0 1 1 ½ 1 1 6½ 4. Vere (who also withdrew instead of play5. Blackburne, Joseph H. 0 1 0 1 • 0 1 + 1 1 6 ing Blackburne) received some bad news 6. Fraser, James C. 0 0 0 0 1 • 0 + 1 ½ 3½ of an uncertain nature, and MacDonnell 7. Robertson, James A. 0 0 0 0 0 1 • 1 0 1 3 accompanied him to Montrose.48 8. Fraser, George B. 0 0 0 ½ – – 0 • 1 1 2½ The players from London treated the extra time in Scotland like a holiday. The 9. Hamel, Sigismund 0 0 0 0 – 0 1 0 • 1 2 Dundee Courier of Monday, 23 Septem10. Spens, Walter C. 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 • ½ ber said that in the past week “the proDraws were not replayed and scored half a point. The symbols + and – indicate the games ceedings in the Club Room have been of that G. B. Fraser conceded at the end without play. a somewhat desultory character.” Meanwhile, on 19 September, the Scottish 38. Ke2 B×f2 39. K×f2 Q×h2† 40. Ng2 Nc6 41. Q×g7 N×e5 Championship tournament was brought to a conclusion 42. g5?! Setting a trap, but this should lose to 42. … Ng4†. when the last three games were played. Dr. Fraser was the 42. … Ng6? 43. Qf6† Ke8 44. Qc6† Kd8 45. Q×b5 Qd6 winner, ahead of C. R. Baxter and George Fraser in second 46. a4 Qd4† 47. Kf1 Qd1† 48. Ne1 Ne7 49. a5 ½–½ and third places respectively. On this day also, the first round of the Handicap was finally concluded and the draw made 282. Steinitz–P. Scott for round two.49 Dundee Handicap tournament (3.2), 23 September 1867 In that round, played on the Friday, Steinitz defeated W. Remove White’s queen’s knight Keating (Class IV), who had had a walkover in round one. Bachmann (game 196); Transactions 66/67, pages 100–101. Steinitz won, conceding odds of the knight. That game ap1. f4 e6 2. Nf3 d5 3. e3 c5 4. b3 Nc6 5. Bb2 Nf6 6. Qe2 Be7 pears not to have survived. Four players thus remained, all 7. g3 Qb6 8. Bg2 Nb4 9. d3 Bd7 10. Ne5 Bc6 11. a3 Na6 12. g4 guaranteed a prize, and the draw was done on Friday eveNd7 13. N×c6 b×c6 14. B×g7 Rg8 15. Bc3 Nc7 16. g5 d4 ning. Dr. Fraser was to meet Neumann, while Steinitz met 17. Bd2 0–0–0 18. h4 f6 19. e×d4 c×d4 20. Qe4 f5 21. Q×c6 Patrick Scott of Dundee whom he had defeated in his blindQ×c6 22. B×c6 Nf8 23. b4 Bd6 24. h5 e5 25. f×e5 B×e5 fold exhibition earlier in the year.50 Those games were played 26. 0 –0–0 f4 27. Rhg1 Bd6 28. Rde1 a6 29. Be4 a5 30. Bf5† on Saturday 21st, when Fraser defeated Neumann, who had Kb8 31. Re4 a×b4 32. a×b4 Nb5 33. B×f4 B×f4† 34. R×f4 Nc3 to concede the Scotsman pawn and move. Steinitz (again 35. Kd2 Rd6 36. Rgg4 Nb5 37. Re4 Rd8 38. Re7 Rh8 39. Rge4 conceding a knight to a Class IV player) had a lucky escape, Nc7 40. R4e5 Rd5 41. R×d5 N×d5 42. Re5 Nf4 43. Bg4 Rg8 in a game lasting five hours, when his opponent faltered on 44. Re4 Nd5 45. R×d4 Ne7 46. Re4 Nd5 47. Re8† Kc7 48. Be6 the brink of victory. One local paper said: “Herr Steinitz, R×g5 49. B×d5 R×d5 50. R×f8 R×h5 51. c4 1–0 after a protracted struggle, had great reason to congratulate himself in escaping with a drawn game against Mr. Scott.”51 This necessitated a replay, which Steinitz won on the Monday after six hours’ play.52

281. Steinitz–P. Scott Dundee Handicap tournament (3.1), 21 September 1867 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 195); Transactions 66/67, pages 98–99; N.B.S.Z. VI (1869), pages 52–53.

1. e4 d5 2. e5 e6 3. f4 c5 4. Nf3 Nc6 5. c3 Qb6 6. d3 Bd7 7. a3 a5 8. g3 Be7 9. Qe2 Bd8 10. Bg2 Nge7 11. g4 Bc7 12. Be3 d4 13. Bc1 Rd8 14. Nd2 Na7 15. c×d4 c×d4 16. b4 Bc6 17. Nc4 Qa6 18. 0–0 B×g2 19. Q×g2 b5 20. Nd2 Nd5 21. Ne4 Qb6 22. f5 Ne3 23. B×e3 d×e3 24. f×e6 e2† 25. Rf2 Q×e6 26. Ng5 Qb6 27. b×a5 Qe3 28. Nf3 R×d3 29. Re1 Rd1 30. Kh1 B×a5 31. Rf×e2 R×e1† 32. N×e1 Qb6 33. Qa8† Ke7 34. Q×h8 Qc6† 35. Kg1? Bb6† 36. Rf2 Qe4 37. Kf1 Qh1†

On the Tuesday, Neumann beat Scott to decide the destination of the third and fourth prizes, worth respectively £5 and £2 10s. The first prize was a generous £20 and the second prize £10. The game against Dr. Fraser was begun at the same time, Steinitz having to concede the same odds that Neumann had been unable to overcome. Although the game only lasted 27 moves, it was (according to the Dundee Courier next day), not finished yet, which presumably means that the dispute described below had not yet been resolved.

283. Dr. J. C. Fraser–Steinitz Dundee Handicap tournament (4), 24 September 1867 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 194); Dundee Advertiser, 26 September 1867; The Era, 6 October 1867; Transactions 66/67, pages 94–95. ChessBase has wrongly named White as George Brunton Fraser.

170

Steinitz in London

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. e5 c5 4. Bd3 c×d4 5. Qh5† Kd7 6. Nf3 Nc6 7. c3 d×c3 8. N×c3 Bb4 9. 0–0 Nge7 10. Ne2 g6 11. Qg4 Nf5 12. a3 Be7 13. Bd2 Qf8 Dundee Advertiser: “Although Black has recovered the odds given at starting, his position is much inferior to that of his adversary.” 14.  Rac1 Kd8 15. Bb5 Bd7 16. Qa4 Bc5? 17. R×c5 Q×c5 18. Rc1 Qb6 The Era: “This move was not a miscalculation like move 16, but was adopted as the best thing Black could do under the hopeless circumstances of his game. If he had returned the Qeen [sic] to K B’s square, the following is a probable continuation: 18. … Qf8 19. B×c6 b×c6 20. R×c6 B×c6 21. Q×c6 and White wins easily.” 19. R×c6 b×c6 20. Ba5 Kc7 21. B×b6† Here Transactions 67 says “At this point the position is much in favour of White, but by the time limitation the game was afterwards scored by his adversary.” This has led some modern collections to truncate the game here, but both the Dundee Advertiser and The Era show more moves were played. 21. … a×b6 22. Qc2 Dundee Advertiser: “All this part of the game is capitally managed by Dr. Fraser.” 22. … Ra5 23. Bd3 Ne7 24. Qd2 c5 25. Nc3 Rha8 26. Qe2 c4 27. Bc2 Nc6… (officially no result). The Dundee Advertiser said: “At this stage Herr Steinitz made Dr. Fraser aware of his having exceeded the time-limit, and claimed the game, which, as our readers may discover, is dead won for his antagonist.” The Era commented: “We can readily understand the vexation Dr. Fraser must have felt at having the victory snatched from him at the moment when it appeared within his reach, but if the penalty was invariably enforced throughout the Tourneys—which we should like to know—his opponent was justified, in a legal point of view, in exacting it in this instance.” The Era explained that the time limit was two hours for 30 moves, with a one-hour sandglass to regulate this, and after Dr. Fraser had made his 27th move, Steinitz claimed that his opponent had exceeded the limit for the second time. “In the first instance, we believe, Dr. Fraser disputed the claim, and intended to appeal it to the Committee; ultimately, both parties

agreed to divide the first and second prizes between them, and to leave the game in status quo, i.e., undecided.” The final report in the Dundee Courier, of Thursday, 26 September, says the game resulted in a draw on the Wednesday because there was no time to play out the tie, Steinitz needing to leave Dundee by steamer on the Wednesday afternoon. Thus Dr. Fraser and Steinitz each won £15, an extremely valuable prize for so little “work,” which may help to explain why the dispute was so amicably resolved. No doubt Steinitz needed the money much more than Fraser did. The total prize money won by Steinitz in Dundee was £35, equivalent to just over £3,000 in today’s money, and he probably had few, if any, expenses during the almost four weeks that he had spent there. Neumann and Blackburne accompanied Steinitz back to London but de Vere stayed on in Scotland for several more weeks. Then Neumann remained in London for another week or two, visiting the Westminster Chess Club daily. Renette speculates that there may have been attempts behind the scenes to raise money for a Neumann–Steinitz match, as the Dundee Advertiser of 26 September hinted might happen. Nothing came of it, and soon Neumann returned to Paris where he worked with Arnous de Rivière on the book of the Paris tournament, a task which seems to have occupied several months. In 1869 Neumann had a mental breakdown, following which he returned to Germany. He recovered sufficiently to play in Baden-Baden in 1870, but that was almost the end of his sad career.53 In that tournament Steinitz and Neumann each won a game against the other, and so their mutual record ended at precisely 50 percent. It is somewhat surprising that there are no more games of Steinitz on record for the remainder of 1867. We may fancy that after three long periods away from London at chess events during the year, and no match in prospect, he could now afford to take a short rest from shilling play at the Divan and spend some time with his little daughter who was probably just starting to walk. Steinitz’s next competitive event was the B.C.A. Handicap tournament in the winter of 1868/9.

7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871 Steinitz was in limbo with little competition in 1868 and 1869, excluded from major English events, so he had to earn his living playing amateurs at places like Simpson’s Divan and Purssell’s. There are relatively few published games by him in those years. Steinitz played no extended head-tohead matches during these four years and it was not until 1870 that another international tournament took place (at Baden-Baden); he won second prize. After that, 1871 was also a somewhat difficult year because of the aftermath of the Franco–Prussian War. Gradually economic conditions and chess activity in Britain and on the Continent revived. There were other positive developments during this period. Steinitz was involved in some small contests and provincial visits (Oxford and Leeds). New rivals emerged: notably John Wisker (1846–1884) and William Norwood Potter (1840–1895), in addition to the resurgent Blackburne. The decline and closure of the London Chess Club (supportive of Steinitz from his arrival) was soon offset by the growth of the City of London Chess Club where Steinitz became extremely active. In general, his network of friends and contacts appears to have widened. Given that Steinitz, as a foreigner and a professional, was excluded from the competitions to decide the B.C.A. Challenge Cup in 1868 and 1870, one may reasonably wonder why he played no head-to-head match which would have kept him in good practice. The answer seems to be twofold: lack of money and the absence of any suitable opponent. Steinitz was never well enough off financially to put up his own stakes in a match nor could he afford to risk losing money, so he was dependent upon well-to-do amateurs to back both himself and whoever he would be playing. There may have been people willing to back Steinitz but who might he play who would have any chance of success? Bird complained about getting no revenge match, and it is unclear why this did not happen. There is no evidence Steinitz refused a re-match in the 1860s. Bird was busy with accountancy work, although he did re-emerge to play in the B.C.A. Challenge Cup tournament at the end of 1868 and early 1869, which was his only serious chess event between the 1866 match and 1873. A possible English opponent for

Steinitz in those years would have been de Vere, but there seem to have been no attempts to arrange a match between them—at least none were mentioned in the press. After his odds match with Steinitz a few years previously, de Vere never played another head-to-head encounter. In the spring of 1869 there was talk of a de Vere–Blackburne match but it fell through, probably on de Vere’s side and due to his indolence.1 No other British players were credible opponents for a major match in the late 1860s. Mackenzie had gone to America and Owen no longer lived in London. It was clear by 1867 that no London amateur was strong enough to meet Steinitz on even terms with any hope of success in a long match. Blackburne was only starting to play again; in both 1869 and 1870 Steinitz played and won single-game mini-matches against him for a small stake put up by amateurs or a club. Wisker had moved from Hull to London in 1866 but his playing strength took time to develop and did not become apparent until he won the 1870 Challenge Cup tournament. Potter, another player who became important in the 1870s, still received knight odds from Blackburne and Steinitz in 1867,2 although he greatly improved by 1871. As for possible overseas opponents, Anderssen never sought a revenge match and preferred to play in Germany. The year 1866 was the last time he visited England. Kolisch had made it clear after Paris that he was withdrawing from play to concentrate on business and finance. Paulsen also was not playing much and the most likely opponent, Neumann, had failed to attract any financial support or interest in England. A match between Neumann and Steinitz in late 1867 or early 1868 could have been interesting for posterity but once that did not happen in the immediate aftermath of Dundee, it was never likely to be on the agenda again. Before looking at Steinitz’s known games from 1868, the following mysterious mate in three problem requires a mention. It was published in the April number of the Schachzeitung, said to be a joint composition by Shumov and Steinitz. Did Steinitz ever meet or correspond with the Russian master Shumov, or was he just correcting a flaw in a previously published position?

171

172

wDwDwDwD DqgwDwDw rDw4wDwD $wDwDwDw w)QDw0wD DwDRDNiw PDwHwhwD DKGwDBDw

Steinitz in London (Shumov and Steinitz)

285. Steinitz–Amateur

White to move and mate in 3

Simpson’s Divan, 1868 Remove White’s queen’s knight D.S.Z., XXIII (June 1868), page 194: endgame 160. This was said to be a position from a game at Simpson’s Divan, in which Steinitz gave knight odds.

1. Q×f4† K×f4 2. Ne4† K×e4 3. Re5 mate (1–0).3

284. Steinitz–Halford Birmingham, 1868 Vienna Game (C25) Birmingham Journal, 6 June 1868: “The following is a game recently played between the celebrated player Steinitz and Mr. Halford, one of the strongest members of the Birmingham Chess Club.” (So it was presumably John Halford, 1841–1881.) This game is not in the usual collections. After Steinitz missed a chance to seize an opening advantage (6. Nd5) and made a mistake in the middlegame, Halford reached a level rook endgame, only to misplay it.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 Bb4 4. Nf3 d6 5. Bc4 e×f4 6. 0–0 Nge7 7. d4 B×c3 8. b×c3 Ng6 9. Ne1 0–0 10. Qh5?! Qh4 “This compels an exchange of Queens, and frustrates the attack menaced by White’s last move.” 11. Q×h4 N×h4 12. B×f4 Ng6 13. Bg3 Be6 “This move was made to enable Black to play forward his KBP.” 14. Bd3 Bd7 15. Nf3 f5 16. Bc4† Kh8 17.  Ng5?! “It would probably have been better to have brought QR into play.” 17. … f4 18. Be1 h6 19. Nf3 Rf6 20. Bd2 Re8 21. Rae1 Bg4 22. Bd3 a6 “Black has a pretty safe game, and so plays this coup de repos, awaiting his opponent’s attack.” 23. e5 d×e5 24. B×g6 R×g6 25. d5 B×f3 26. R×f3 Rd8 27. d×c6 R×d2 28. c×b7 Rb6 29. Rd3 “A good move, forcing an exchange of Rooks and liberating his doubled Pawns.” 29. … R×d3 30. c×d3 R×b7 31. R×e5 Rb1† 32. Kf2 Rb2†?! 33. Re2 R×e2†? 34. K×e2 Kg8 35. Kf3 g5 36. h4 Kf7 37. h×g5 h×g5 38. Kg4 Kf6 39. d4 a5 40. c4 a4 41. c5 a3 42. d5 Ke5 43. K×g5 “If White had advanced his QP (43. d6) the game would have been drawn.” 43. … K×d5 44. K×f4 K×c5 45. Ke4 Kb4 46. Kd3 c5 47. g4 c4† 48. Kc2 1–0!? Here Black mistakenly resigned in a drawn position. The following week, the chess column of the Birmingham newspaper gave a drawing variation, which is confirmed by the tablebases: 48. Kc2 Kc5 49. Kc3 Kd5 50. g5 Ke6 (Ke5 also draws.) 51. K×c4 Kf5 52. Kb4 K×g5 53. K×a3 Kf6 54. Kb4 Ke6 55. Kb5 Kd7 56. Kb6 Kc8.

White to move

rhwDkDn4 Dp0wDwDp w1wDw0wD 0wDbDw0w wDwHw0wD DwGwDwDw P)wDBDP) Dw$QDRDK

16. Bh5† Kf8 17. Nf5 c6 18. Q×d5 c×d5 whereupon White continued in elegant fashion with 19. B×f6 1–0. It is mate in three more moves, but Steinitz could have mated in two by 19. Bb4†. In Bachmann’s first edition this finish was game 232 but the second edition omitted it, in order to make room for “L aus Manchester” versus Steinitz (Game 113 in the present work), which was inserted as the new number 232 although out of chronological sequence. The following game is curious and was nearly relegated to the appendix of dubious and spurious games. The primary source for it is the first volume of the Westminster Papers, saying “Played September 1868, between Messrs. Bird and Steinitz.” No venue was stated but since Steinitz had long since left the Westminster Chess Club, the game (if genuine) must have been played at Simpson’s Divan.4 It has been dated September 1866 or 1867 by many later writers, probably because the 1868 dating looks prima facie like a misprint, in view of the fact that the game appeared in what was nominally the August 1868 number of the magazine, and so they “corrected” it. Closer reading of the Papers shows, however, that the same issue included other games said to have been played as late as 23 September and 3 October 1868 while advertisements on page 60 (five pages later than the Bird game) show that publication was considerably behind schedule. That delay possibly happened because the Westminster Chess Club moved its premises on 29 September (as another advertisement shows). The alternative version of Bird’s miniature, where much of the play is similar but White played 11. Qg4 instead of 11. Qe4, first appeared in The Field on 5 April 1873 as: “Game played some time ago at Simpson’s Divan, between Messrs. Bird and De Vere.” It was reprinted on 22 June in The Era, which said “it so exactly resembles one played previously … that it has been set down as the same game, with the name of De Vere inadvertently printed for Steinitz.” This author agrees with Bachmann, despite some reservations, to admit

7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871 it to the canon of Steinitz games, coming to the opposite conclusion from that reached by Renette: on page 107 of his book, he prefers the alternative version (which diverges at move 11) where de Vere was named as the loser. The Era claimed that the termination in the Field version was “superior to that of its prototype” although Renette points out that the move played by White in the original version was stronger. He included only the de Vere version in his Bird canon. Renette was apparently persuaded by what the Rev. A. B. Skipworth wrote in The Chess Player’s Chronicle (June 1873): “…as Mr. De Vere himself edits the chess column in The Field, he is not likely to be mistaken as to a game lost by himself.” This argument is not as conclusive as it at first might appear to be. In the first place, by 1873 de Vere was in poor health and unreliable, capable of making mistakes or handing in illegible copy, and it was surmised in this author’s study of British Chess Literature that in some weeks The Field may have called on deputies to write the chess column. One cannot be certain that the article of 5 April 1873 was submitted by de Vere. Nor is there any independent evidence that this game was played between Bird and de Vere, and, to judge from Renette’s own book, they otherwise only played against each other in tournaments. It is possible that Bird did catch out both masters in similar fashion and varied his play at move 11, either because he believed he had an improvement, or forgot what he had played before, or just did not wish to repeat himself exactly. However, there is another pertinent counter-argument. Bird himself published the game in Modern Chess, pages 99–100, in the version below, with Steinitz named as the loser. He said nothing about any similar game against de Vere. So in answer to Skipworth we might just as well say that it is not likely that Bird would be mistaken about a game that he won.

173

British Chess Association 1868/9 Congress The B.C.A. held its annual meeting for 1868 at the St. George’s Chess Club on 24 June and Steinitz was one of the members present.5 At this meeting Löwenthal declined on health grounds to continue as manager but promised to do all in his power to assist the organization. Medley also wanted to stand down as honorary secretary but Deacon offered to assist and they were appointed to the office jointly on the understanding that Deacon would do most of the work. It was unlikely that would turn out well. There is no published report of any B.C.A. general meeting after this one. The appointment of a manager was left to the new managing committee, who seem to have persuaded Löwenthal to continue for the time being, and (since he was the virtual embodiment of the B.C.A.,) he was probably never replaced. The B.C.A. Congress of 1868 (some of whose tournaments extended into 1869) was held in London over an extended

286. H. E. Bird–Steinitz Simpson’s Divan, September 1868 Ruy Lopez (C65) Bachmann (game 166); W.P.I., page 55; Bird’s Modern Chess, part 4 (1885), pages 99–100.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. d4 e×d4 5. e5 Ne4 6. N×d4 Be7 7. 0–0 N×d4 8. Q×d4 Nc5 9. f4 b6 10. f5 Nb3 11. Qe4 The other version goes 11. Qg4 N×a1 12. Q×g7 Rf8 13. f6 Bc5† 14. Kh1 N×c2 15. e6! Nd4 16. e×f7† R×f7 17. Re1† Be7 18. Qg8† Rf8 19. f7 mate, said in The Field of 5 April 1873 to have been “played some time ago at Simpson’s Divan between Messrs. Bird and De Vere.” 11. … N×a1 12. f6 “White plays the ending beautifully. The twelfth move is of the highest order of Chess, and wins the game by force.” 12. … Bc5† 13. Kh1 Rb8 14. e6 1–0 “And Black resigns” says Bird’s work. If 14.  … Rg8 15.  Q×h7 Rf8 16.  e×f7† R×f7 17.  Re1† Be7 18. Qg8† Rf8 19. f7 mate; Pickard’s source for these further moves was Bachmann.

J. J. Löwenthal, manager of the British Chess Association and chief organizer of the various chess congresses in London between 1862 and 1872. (From A Century of British Chess.)

174

Steinitz in London

period, with Löwenthal presiding. As in 1862 and 1866, a room at the St. James’s Hall in Piccadilly was booked for a public week (30 November–5 December, except for the Wednesday).6 Events in the Hall featured some consultation games and other events in addition to its function as a venue for tournament games.7 None of the tournaments were completed that week, however, and all extended into 1869. The various competitions were subsequently written up in a booklet edited by Löwenthal and Medley: The Transactions of the British Chess Association for 1868 and 1869 (cited below as Transactions 68/69). Steinitz was involved in some of the proceedings, including the Handicap tournament, but as a foreigner he was precluded from entering the main event (the Challenge Cup). The Glowworm tournament (a knock-out event on level terms for £25) and the Mongredien tournament (an early form of Chess960) were also restricted to British players.8 On 29 November, Löwenthal’s short-lived column in The Weekly Dispatch (a Sunday newspaper) said that the general meeting of the B.C.A. had been held the previous Monday, 23 November, at the St. George’s Chess Club. The entries for the various tournaments were announced and most of the arrangements, especially for the Handicap tournament, were decided. A prize for a consultation match had been offered by Henry Waite but the details for this had not yet been concluded. Eventually there were four such games, only two of which involved Steinitz.

287. Steinitz and J. H. Blackburne–C. V. de Vere and the Rev. G. A. MacDonnell Consultation game, St. James’s Hall, 30 November 1868 Sicilian Defense (B24) Bachmann (game 227); Transactions 68/69, pages 107–108; The Field, XXXII (5 December 1868), page 465, said the time allowed was 30 moves in two hours. Many sources have an incorrect score towards the end. It was said in the Weekly Dispatch that this game “attracted great attention.” This was the first of the games for Waite’s prize, but since Steinitz had a different partner for the second game, was there a different prize for that?

1. e4 c5 2. Nc3 e6 3. g3 Nc6 4. Bg2 a6 5. Nge2 Nd4 6. d3 e5 7. Nd5 Ne7 8. Ne3 d6 9. c3 Ne6 10. f4 e×f4 11. g×f4 Nc6 12.  0–0 Be7 13.  Ng3 Bf6 14.  Nd5 Nc7 15.  N×f6† Q×f6 16. Nh5 Qh4 17. N×g7† Kf8 18. Qh5 Q×h5 19. N×h5 Bg4 20. Ng3 h5 21. h3 Bd7 22. Kh2 Re8 Several databases incorrectly have 22. … Rc8 here, probably following Bachmann game 227, and have a nonsensical continuation, but both The Field and the Transactions show 22. … Re8 was played. 23. Bf3 f6 24. N×h5 Re7 25. f5 Reh7 26. Nf4 Be8 27. Bg2 Ne5 28. d4 c×d4 29. c×d4 Nd7 30. Ne6† N×e6 31. f×e6 “And White won speedily” says the Transactions. 31.  … Nb6 32. Bg5 1–0 “And Black resigns,” says The Field.

Samuel Standidge Boden, chess correspondent of The Field from 1858 to about 1870. The 1868 consultation game (no. 288) is the only game in which he and Steinitz are known to have played together. (From The Westminster Papers, IX [September 1876] page 88.)

288. C. V. de Vere and the Rev. G. A. MacDonnell–Steinitz and S. S. Boden Consultation game, St. James’s Hall, December 1868 Giuoco Piano (C50) Bachmann (game 228); The Glowworm, Friday evening, 11 December 1868, saying: “The following is one of the games played at the meeting last week….” It was not played on 30 November when Steinitz was involved in the previous consultation game, nor on Friday, 4 December (the blindfold match), while on Wednesday, 2 December the Hall was unavailable. So the date of this game must have been either the 1st or 5th of December. Reprinted in Transactions 68/69, pages 106–107; also in D.S.Z. XXIII (December 1868), pages 366–367, and The Era, 2 October 1870.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. 0–0 Nf6 5. c3 N×e4 6. d4 d5 7. Bb5 e×d4 8. Ne5 Bd7 9. N×f7 K×f7 10. Qh5† Kf8 11. Q×d5 Qe7 12. c×d4 Bd6 13. Nc3 Nf6 14. Qc4 a6 15. B×c6 B×c6 16. d5 Bb5 17. N×b5 a×b5 18. Q×b5 Qe5 19. g3 Q×d5 20. Qe2 Kf7 21. Be3 Rhe8 22. Rfd1 Qe6 23. Qb5 b6 24. Rac1

7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871 Ra5 25. Qc6 Rd5 26. Re1 Qd7 27. Qb7 Bc5 28. B×c5 R×e1† 29. R×e1 R×c5 30. b4 Rc2 31. a3 Qd2 32. Rf1 h5 33. b5 h4 34. Qc8 Qd7 35. Q×d7† N×d7 36. Rd1 Nc5 37. Rd8 h3 38.  Kf1 Ne4 39.  a4 R×f2† 40.  Ke1 R×h2 41.  Rd7† Kg8 42. R×c7 N×g3 43. Rc8† Kh7 0–1 The main attraction for Friday, 4 December at the St. James’s Hall was a unique event in which Steinitz and Blackburne played blindfold not only against each other but also against a team of five selected amateurs, who thus each played two simultaneous games but with sight of the boards. They each had a board marked “Steinitz” and another marked “Blackburne” while the two masters sat at the end of the room “in such a position as to preclude the possibility of their seeing either board or men.” Long before the advertised 2 p.m. start, a “large assemblage” of B.C.A. members and visitors had arrived to watch, the public (including ladies) being charged two shillings admission.9 The Standard and the Morning Post, both of 8 December, say that Blackburne and Steinitz played five games each simultaneously and afterwards played against each other. The two reports were identical (or nearly so), however, so they stemmed from one reporter and require confirmation. The Sportsman of 9 December had a short report apparently edited down from the previous day’s accounts. On the other hand, Löwenthal’s reports for The Glowworm and The Weekly Dispatch imply that all games started at the same time, which is explicitly stated both by Boden in The Field and Walker’s report in Bell’s Life, both of 12 December. Walker said the event lasted more than 10 hours, adding “Mr. Steinitz has not the same experience in this branch of chess as Mr. Blackburn [sic], who conversed and laughed freely with bystanders throughout the contest.” The Chess Player’s Quarterly Chronicle also commented on Blackburne’s rapid play, from which we may infer that Steinitz was considerably slower.10 The Weekly Dispatch says that the game between the two masters was conducted “with great care and precision on both sides” and was eventually agreed drawn. Apart from that game only one of Steinitz’s games and two of Blackburne’s were preserved. One of the amateurs, Baker, pulled off a notable coup by defeating both masters, employing the defense 1. e4 a6!?, which would be used more than a century later by grandmaster Tony Miles to surprise and defeat the then World Champion, Anatoly Karpov. That was the only game which Blackburne lost. He beat C. B. Locock, C. Puller and T. Smith, and drew against R. Ormond, whereas Steinitz won only against Ormond. Steinitz drew with Puller and Smith and lost to Locock. Therefore Blackburne won the match convincingly and took the prize of ten guineas, equivalent to over £925 in today’s money. It was not said whether there was any fee or consolation prize for the loser.

175

289. Steinitz–J. Baker B.C.A. Blindfold match v Blackburne, St. James’s Hall, 4 December 1868.11 Irregular Defense (B00) Bachmann (game 231), from the Glowworm, 8 December 1868. Also in C.P.Q.C., August 1869, pages 237–238, and N.B.S.Z., V (1868), page 384. This was probably the John Baker who was on the managing committee of the B.C.A. from 1866 and maybe the same opponent to whom Steinitz conceded pawn and move in some (unpublished) games played in late 1863 at the London Chess Club, as mentioned in The Era of 29 November 1863.

1. e4 a6!? Taking the blindfold players out of “book” immediately proved a shrewd strategy. 2. d4 b5 3. Nf3 Blackburne played 3. Bd3 and also lost. 3. … Bb7 4. Bd3 e6 5. Nc3 c5 6. d×c5 B×c5 7. a4 b4 8. Ne2 Nc6 9. 0–0 Nge7 10. Ng3 Qc7 11. Qe2 h5 12. Be3 Bd6 13. Rfe1 f6 14. Nd2 h4 15. Ngf1 Na5 16. Nb3 g5 17. Bd4 e5 18. Be3 Ng6 19. N×a5 Q×a5 20. Nd2 Nf4 21. B×f4 g×f4 22. Nc4 Qc5 23. N×d6† Q×d6 24. Rad1 Qe7 25. h3 Qg7 26. Bc4 Rc8 27. Rd2?? f3 28. Q×f3 R×c4 29. Qf5 Rg8 30. f3 Rd4 31. Rde2 Ke7 32. Rf2 Qg3 33. Qh7† Rg7 0–1

290. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne B.C.A. Blindfold match v Blackburne, St. James’s Hall, 4 December 1868 French Defense (C01) Bachmann (game 230); The Field, 12 December 1868; Transactions 68/69, page 7.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e×d5 e×d5 5. Bd3 Be6 6. Nf3 Nf6 7. 0–0 0–0 8. Ne2 Bd6 9. Ng3 Nc6 10. c3 Ne7 11. Ne5 B×e5 12. d×e5 Nd7 13. f4 f5 14. Ne2 c5 15. Kh1 g5 16. Bc2 Ng6 17. Ng3 g4 Boden: “It is evident from this part of the present game that, where so many blindfold combats are on hand at once, Mr. Blackburne manoeuvres with much more facility than his opponent; though Mr. Steinitz is, we learn, quite his equal where only one or two games are on the way.” 18. Be3 b6 19. Qd2 Rf7 20. Rfe1 h5 21. Bb3 c4 22.  Bc2 h4 23.  Ne2 Qe7 24.  Nd4 Nc5 25.  N×e6 Q×e6 26. Rad1 Rd8 27. B×c5 b×c5 28. b3 c×b3 29. B×b3 Rfd7 30. Qe3 c4 31. Ba4 Rc7 32. Rd2 Kg7 ½–½ Steinitz did compete, successfully, in the Handicap tournament, which was open to all-comers. Pairings were decided by a single victory, draws not counting. The Transactions, on pages 8–9, explains that under the rules of the tournament, players in the first division of the First Class (Blackburne, de Vere, MacDonnell, and Steinitz) had to give first move to opponents in the second division of the first class (Gossip, J. Lord, E. Löwe, W. Newham, and Wisker.) Steinitz lost no time in getting his program underway. The average time allowed per move was four minutes. The few results up to the evening of 25 November were listed in the Weekly

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Steinitz in London

Dispatch on the 29th; these included victory for Steinitz in the first round of the Handicap.

291. G. H. D. Gossip–Steinitz B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (1), 24 or 25 November 1868. King’s Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 222); Transactions 68/69, pages 63–64 (with light notes); also in The Era, 28 August 1870. The rules determined that Gossip had White but there were no material odds.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Bg7 6. d4 Nf6 7. Bc4 0–0 8. B×f4 d6 9. N×f7 R×f7 10. B×f7† K×f7 11. Nc3 Nc6 12. Qd3 Kg8 13. 0–0–0 Ne7 14. Bg5 h6 15. B×f6 B×f6 16.  Rdf1 Bg7 17.  Qc4† Kh8 18.  Rf7 Bd7 19.  Rhf1 Be8 20. R7f4 h5 21. Qe6 Bd7 22. Qf7 Qe8 23. Kb1 Ng6 24. R4f2 B×d4 25. Rf6 Q×f7 26. R×f7 Ne5 27. Re7 B×c3 28. b×c3 Kg8 29. Rf6 Re8 30. Rfe6 Kf8 31. R×e8† B×e8 32. Rf6† Bf7 33. a4 Kg7 34. Rf2 a5 35. g3 Nf3 36. Kb2 Kf6 37. c4 B×c4 38. Kc3 Ba6 39. Kb2 Ke5 40. Kc3 K×e4 0–1

292. W. Franklin–Steinitz B.C.A. Handicap tournament (2), London, December 1868 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 223); Transactions 68/69, pages 77–78.

The pairings for the second round were made in early December and published in The Weekly Dispatch on 6 December. Since Franklin was in the Third Class, Steinitz conceded pawn and two moves. The result was published in the Weekly Dispatch of 13 December. 1. e4 AND 2. d4 e6 3. Bd3 c5 4. e5 g6 5. h4 c×d4 6. h5 Qa5† 7. Kf1 Q×e5 8. h×g6 h×g6 9. R×h8 Q×h8 10. B×g6† Kd8 11. c3 Nc6 12. c×d4 Nge7 13. Bd3 Bg7 14. Nd2 B×d4 15. Qb3 d5 16. Ndf3 Bf6 17. Rb1 e5 18. Be2 Bf5 19. Ra1 Kc7 20. Bg5 Rg8 21. B×f6 Q×f6 22. Rc1 e4 23. Ne1 Be6 24. Bb5 d4 25. Qa3 d3 26. B×c6 N×c6 27. Qa5† Kb8 28. Qd2 Ne5 29. b3 Ng4 30. f4 Nh2† 31. Kf2 Qd4† 0–1

294. F. E. Lamb–Steinitz Simpson’s Divan, 1868 Giuoco Piano (C50) This game is not in the usual collections. Löwenthal published it in The Weekly Dispatch, 20 December 1868, saying: “The ensuing game, which occurred in casual play at the Grand Divan, is a brilliant specimen of Herr Steinitz’s skill.” From the date of publication, it was possibly played soon after the main sessions of the B.C.A.Congress but there is no definite evidence and it could have been earlier. The opponent was named only as “Mr. Lamb,” but almost certainly was the F. E. Lamb who subscribed 10 shillings to the B.C.A. that year.12

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. 0–0 Nf6 5. d3 d6 6. Bg5 h6 7. Bh4 g5 8. Bg3 h5 “This move, some of our readers, perhaps, may be aware, is the invention of the distinguished Austrian master, Herr Steinitz. It was adopted by him during the International Congress of 1862, in a game against Signor Dubois.” (See Game 63 in this book.) 9. N×g5? “This move looks at first sight promising, but it is not so in reality, as has been shown in an exhaustive analysis of the position in the book of the Chess Congress, 1862, page 102.” 9. … h4 10. N×f7 Qe7!? In his Instructor, Steinitz analyzed the even more spectacular 10. … h×g3, offering the queen; this was also analyzed later by Ukrainian master Isaac Lipnitsky in Questions of Modern Chess Theory (1952).13 Then 11. N×h8 h×g3 transposes to Lamb–Steinitz. Instead White should play 11. N×d8 Bg4 12. Qd2 (12. Nf7? R×h2 and 12. N×c6? g×f2† both lead to a win for Black.) 12. … Nd4 and now may be able to save himself by 13. h3! (13. Nf7 R×h2 is analyzed in the Instructor, while 13. Nc3? Nf3† 14. g×f3 B×f3 was Knorre–Chigorin, St. Petersburg 1874, repeated in Belik–Fleger, Czechoslovakia 1963!) 13. … Ne2† 14. Q×e2! (instead of 14. Kh1? R×h3† 15. g×h3 Bf3 as in the Instructor, page 43, n60.) 14. … B×e2 15. Ne6 Bb6 16. Nc3 B×f1 17. K×f1 g×f2 which is unpleasant but “White can probably still defend” as Pritchett says. 11. N×h8 h×g3 (see diagram)

293. Steinitz–H. D. Haggard B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (3), December 1868 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 224); Transactions 68/69, page 84. The result was published in the Weekly Dispatch on 20 December. Haggard was in the Fourth Class so Steinitz gave the odds of a piece.

1. f4 d5 2. e3 Nf6 3. b3 Bg4 4. Nf3 e6 5. Bb2 Bd6 6. h3 B×f3 7. Q×f3 0–0 8. g4 h6 9. h4 Nc6 10. g5 Nh7 11. g×h6 f6 12. Rg1 Rf7 13. Bd3 e5 14. B×h7† K×h7 15. Qh5 Rd7 16. h×g7† Kg8 17. Qh8† Kf7 18. g8Q† Q×g8 19. Qh5† 1–0 Steinitz thus qualified for the Final Pool of the Handicap, which was played early in the New Year (see below, Games 295 and 296).

After 11. … h×g3

rDbDkDwH 0p0w1wDw wDn0whwD Dwgw0wDw wDBDPDwD DwDPDw0w P)PDw)P) $NDQDRIw

12. Kh1 This move is not in the Instructor. Löwenthal’s notes for the Weekly Dispatch observe: “White has here two other modes of continuing the attack, which, however, would not lead to a more satisfactory result, as in either case Black would soon obtain a winning advantage.” Instead Steinitz

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gave 12. Nf7 (“He has to guard against …Qh7 and if 12. Bf7† Kd8 “threatening Q to B sq. etc.”) 12. … B×f2† 13. R×f2 (Instructor note 63: “There is nothing better. If 13. Kh1 Ng4 with an irresistible attack.”) 13. … g×f2† 14. K×f2 Ng4† 15. Kg1 (If 15. Kg3 Qf6 16. Qf3 Qg7 quoting the Italian analyst Salvioli; repeated later in Estrin, Italienische Partie.) 15. … Qh4 16. h3 Qf2† 17. Kh1 Ne3 Salvioli, continued by Steinitz in the Instructor, n65: 18. Qd2 Qf1† 19. Kh2 N×c4 when Black wins a piece. 12. … g×f2 “It appears that taking this Pawn with Bishop is even stronger than the move in the text.” 13. Nc3 Qh7 14. Nf7 Ng4 “The position now assumes a phase of great interest, enhanced by the ingenious manner in which Herr Steinitz carries on the attack to the end.” 15. h3 Qh4 16. Qf3 Nd4 17. N×d6† “Under the circumstances this was the best move, although of but little avail.” 17. … c×d6 18. Qf7† Kd8 19. Qf8† Kc7 20. Nd5† Kb8 21. Ne7 a6 22. N×c8 “Had he taken 22. Q×c8† the King would have moved out of check to 22. … Ka7, thus exhausting all White’s resources.” 22. … Qg3 23. Nb6† Ka7 24. Q×a8† K×b6 25. Qd8† Ka7 26. h×g4 Nf3 27. Qh8 Nh4 0–1. “The termination is beautifully played by Herr Steinitz.”

295. Steinitz–A. Mongredien, Jr. B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (4.1), January 1869 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 225); Transactions 68/69, pages 85–86.

The fourth round was a Pool consisting of three players: these two and Wisker, who also beat Augustus Mongredien, Jr., a player in the Fourth Class and son of the London Chess Club president. The game developed as a From’s Gambit, but with Steinitz conceding odds of a piece. The result was published in the Weekly Dispatch on 16 January 1869; the other games in the Pool had yet to be decided. 1. f4 e5 2. f×e5 d6 3. e×d6 B×d6 4. Nf3 Bg4 5. e3 Nd7 6. Be2 B×f3 7. B×f3 Qh4† 8. g3 Qf6 9. 0–0 Qg5 10. B×b7 Rb8 11. Bg2 Ngf6 12. d4 Qg6 13. Qe2 Ne4 14. Bh3 Ndf6 15. Bf5 Qg5 16. Qg2 N×g3 17. h×g3 Q×g3 18. e4 Q×g2† 19. K×g2 Be7 20. e5 Nh5 21. Be4 0–0 22. Bf3 g6 23. B×h5 g×h5 24.  b3 Rbd8 25.  Bh6 Rfe8 26.  c3 c5 27.  Rf3 Bf8 28. Bg5 Rd7 29. Bf6 h6 30. Rd1 c×d4 31. c×d4 Rc8 32. Rg3† Kh7 33. Kh3 Rdc7 34. d5 Rc3 35. d6 1–0

296. J. Wisker–Steinitz B.C.A. Handicap tournament, London (4.2), January 1869 Ponziani Opening (C44) Bachmann (game 226); Transactions 68/69, pages 62–63; The Era, 28 August 1870, C.P.C. (1877), pages 152–153, Devidé, page 27, etc. This game decided first and second prizes. The Weekly Dispatch of 30 January 1869 announced the result. Steinitz had to yield Wisker the advantage of first move.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. c3 d5 4. Qa4 f6 This move, now

John Wisker, for a few years between 1870 and 1876, was one of England’s strongest players. (From The Chess-Monthly, XIV [August 1893].)

generally recognized as best, was introduced by Steinitz in this game. 5. Bb5 Nge7 6. e×d5 Q×d5 7. 0–0 Bd7 8. d4 e4 9. Ne1 a6 10. Bc4 N×d4 11. Qb4 c5 12. c×d4 c×b4 13. B×d5 N×d5 14.  Nc2 Rc8 15.  Ne3 Nf4 16.  Nd2 f5 17.  f3 Ne2† 18. Kh1 f4 19. Nd5 e3 20. Nb3 Be6 21. Nb6 Rc2 22. d5 Bf5 23. Re1 Be7 24. Na5 Bc5 25. N×b7 B×b6 26. Nd6† Kd7 27. N×f5 Rhc8 28. B×e3 f×e3 29. N×g7 Rc1 0–1

More Games in 1869 This was a year without any major formal competitions in Britain, but Steinitz did win a one-game match for a small prize against Blackburne.

297. Brandon–Steinitz Pawn and move, Simpson’s Divan, 1869 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 233); W.P., II (May 1869), page 7.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. e×d5 e×d5 4. Nf3 Nf6 5. Bg5 Be7 6. B×f6 g×f6 7. Bd3 Nc6 8. h3 0–0 9. c3 Bd6 10. 0–0 Kh8 11. Nbd2 Rg8 12. Nh4 B×h3 13. Qh5 f5 14. B×f5 Q×h4 15. Q×h4 R×g2† 16. Kh1 Rh2† 17. Kg1 Rg8† 18. Qg3 B×g3 19. f×g3 R×d2 20. B×h3 R×g3† 0–1

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298. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Detmold prize game, London Chess Club, 1 May 1869 Sicilian Defense (B24) Bachmann (game 235); Blackburne (game 120); W.P., II (August 1869), page 53: “The following interesting game between Messrs. Steinitz and Blackburne was played at the London Club on the 1st of May last for a small prize given by Mr. Charles Detmold.”

1. e4 c5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. g3 g6 4. Bg2 Bg7 5. Nge2 e6 6. d3 Nge7 7. Be3 Nd4 8. Qd2 f5 9. h4 Qa5 10. h5 Nec6 11. h×g6 h×g6 12. R×h8† B×h8 13. B×d4 c×d4 14. Nb1 Nb4 15. Na3 Kf7 16. e×f5 g×f5 17. Kf1 d6 18. Qh6 Bg7 19. Qh7 e5 20. Nc4 Qc7 21. a3 Nc6 22. Bd5† Kf6 23. Re1 Bd7 24. g4 1–0

299. Mr. G–Steinitz Simpson’s Divan, May? 1869 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann (game 236); W.P., II (June 1869): “Game played at the Simpson’s Divan between Mr. Steinitz and an Amateur”—the Amateur is called Mr. G. It is unlikely, although possible, that this “Mr. G” is the same as the one in the 1864 game. Since Steinitz gives no odds, the loser of this brilliancy must have been a relatively skilled opponent, possibly Gossip or Valentine Green.

This game is not in Pickard’s collections. Bachmann dated it precisely to 12 September 1869, but that was when it was republished in The Era. In view of the earlier publication in W.P., one may estimate it was played in mid–May 1869. The game (or sometimes only the finish from move 20) was republished several times, including Howard Taylor’s 1869 book Chess Brilliants (game LXX, page 72). 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. c3 Nf6 5. d4 e×d4 6. e5 d5 7. Bb5 Ne4 8. N×d4 0–0 9. B×c6 b×c6 10. 0–0 Ba6 11. Re1 f6 12. e6 Qd6 13. Be3 f5 14. Qa4? f4 15. e7 Q×e7 16. Q×a6 f×e3 17. f×e3 Rf2 18. Q×c6 Raf8 19. Q×d5† Kh8 20. Nf3 Qh4 21. N×h4 B×e3 22. Ng6† h×g6 23. g3 Re2† 24. Kh1 R×e1† 25. Kg2 Rg1† 26. Kh3 Nf2† 27. Kh4 Rf4†! 0–1 Bachmann and Taylor give a final move pair: 28. Kg5 Rg4 mate, while 28. g×f4 Rg4 mate is the finish in the Devidé, page 18, and Linder books.

300. Amateur–Steinitz

Raf8 21. Q×e4 Bf3 22. Qd4 Qh3 23. Ne3 Bc5 24. Q×c5 Q×h2† 25. K×h2 Rh6† 26. Kg1 Rh1 mate (0–1).

301. Steinitz–H. Eschwege Queen’s knight odds, Simpson’s Divan, 1869 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 261); W.P., II (September 1869), page 71: “Mr. Steinitz giving Mr. Eshwege [sic] the odds of Q Kt.” So Bachmann and the database saying 1871 are wrong. His opponent was probably Hermann Eschwege; the Miss Eschwege who played in the 1897 Ladies International tournament was possibly his daughter.14 B.L.L., 16 April 1870: “The finish is very pretty, the double checks rattling down on Eshwege [sic] in a style quite poetical.”

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Nc6 3. Nf3 e×f4 4. d4 g5 5. h4 g4 6. Ng5 f6 7. Q×g4 f×g5 8. Qh5† Ke7 9. Q×g5† Nf6 10. e5 Kf7 11. B×f4 Qe7 12. 0–0–0 Nd5 13. Qh5† Kg8 14. Bc4 Qe6 15. Rh3 Nce7 16. Rg3† Ng6 17. Rf1 Be7 18. Bh6 c6 19. Rf6 B×f6 20. R×g6† Kf7 21. Rg7† Kf8 22. Rf7† Ke8 23. Rf8† Ke7 24. Qe8 mate (1–0).

302. Steinitz–P. M. Hirschfeld Casual game, London, 1868? King’s Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 229) dated this to 1868, but T.C.M., III (March 1882, pages 205–206) says it was “played at the Westminster Palace Hotel, London, in September 1869.” Since the magazine’s co-editor Zukertort was a close friend of Hirschfeld, that information may be taken as definitive. It is game 243 in the Renette and Zavatarelli book on the three Berlin masters, annotated on page 123.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Bg7 6. d4 Nf6 7. Nc3 Steinitz had played 7. Bc4 against Hirschfeld six years previously (Game 121). 7. … d6 8. Nd3 0–0 9. N×f4 N×e4 10. N×e4 Zukertort’s notes say this move was given as best in the Handbuch, and that 10. Nh5 had been played in an Anderssen–Zukertort game from 1865 which had been published in January 1869 in the N.B.S.Z. 10. … Re8 11. Kf2 R×e4 12. c3 d5 13. Bd3 Re8 14. Qc2 c5 15. d×c5 Qc7 16. b4 d4 17. Rf1 g3† 18. K×g3 d×c3 19. Kh2 Nc6 20. a3 a5 21. b×a5 R×a5 22. Qf2 Ne5 23. Kh1 R×c5 24. Re1 Rd8 25. Be2 Nc4 26. Nd3 Bd4 27. Qf4 Nd2 28. a4 Q×f4 29. N×f4 Bf2 30. Rd1 Rd4 31. g3 B×g3 32. Nd3 R×h4† 33. Kg2 Rg5 34. B×d2 Bf4† 35. Kf2 B×d2 36. Rh1 Re4 37. Bf3 Re3 38. Nb4 Bg4 Bachmann ended here; T.C.M. had an additional move pair: 39. B×g4 R×g4 0–1.

Casual game, London, June? 1869 Giuoco Piano (C50) Bachmann (game 234); W.P., II (July 1869), page 39: “The following instructive game was lately played between Herr Steinitz and an Amateur.”

303. Steinitz–E. Anthony

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 f5 4. d3 Bc5 5. Bg5 Nf6 6. e×f5 d5 7. Bb5 0–0 8. 0–0 Bd6 9. c4 d×c4 10. B×c4† Kh8 11. Nh4 Nd4 12. Nd2 N×f5 13. N×f5 B×f5 14. Nf3 Qe8 15. Nh4 Bg4 16. Qb3 Qh5 17. B×f6 R×f6 18. g3 g5 19. Ng2 e4 20. Q×b7

Test game for Salvio Gambit, 1869 King’s Gambit (C37) This game is the earliest of six games found so far between Steinitz and Edwyn Anthony (1843–1932) but they probably played many more. Although not in the usual collec-

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tions, it was published in the Westminster Papers, II (November 1869), page 103, as game XXVIII. It was not said where it was played; most likely in London where Anthony was studying law. The magazine introduced the game as follows: The following game was played between Mr. Steinitz and an Amateur named below as Mr. Anthony in order to test the validity of a new move in the Salvio Gambit, the opening moves up to the 8th having been agreed upon by both combatants for that purpose.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. Ne5 Qh4† 6. Kf1 Nf6 7. Nc3 f3 8. d4 Nc6 “Mr. Steinitz is of opinion this is a novelty deserving further consideration.” 9. N×f7 b6 10. N×h8 N×d4 11. Q×d4 f×g2† 12. K×g2 Qh3† 13. Kg1 Bc5 14. Q×c5 b×c5 15. Nf7 Bb7 16. Ng5 Qh4 17. Be3 “A mistake; 17. Bf4 was the correct move.” 17. … g3 18. Rf1 g×h2† 19. R×h2 Qg3† 20. Rg2 Q×e3† 21. Kh2 Ke7 22. R×f6 K×f6 23. N×h7† Ke7 24. Rg7† Kd6 25. Rg6† Ke5 26. Rg5† Kd4 W.P. has erroneously “K to QB5.” 27. Bd3 Qf2† 28. Kh3 Rh8 0–1

City of London Chess Club Origins In April 1870 Steinitz lost one of his regular haunts when the old London Chess Club closed its doors for the last time. By that stage he had possibly transferred his loyalties to the fast-growing City of London Chess Club, where the following game was played.

304. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Casual game, City of London Chess Club, 1870 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 241); from W.P., IV (February 1872) which says, “Played some time ago at the City of London Chess Club.” Renette, H. E. Bird, game 197, comments on page 112 that it was probably played in 1869 or 1870.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. Nc3 Na5 10. Bd3 c5? 11. d5 Bg4 12. Ne2 Qf6 13. Bg5 Qg6 14. Nf4 Q×g5 15. Bb5† Ke7 16. N×g5 B×d1 17. Ra×d1 Rf8 18. Rde1 h6 19. Nge6 f×e6 20. Ng6† Kf7 21. N×h8† Kf6 22. f4 Ne7 23. e5† Kf5 24. Bd3† Kg4 25. Re3 R×h8 26. Rg3† Kh5 27. Be2† 1–0. W.P. ends here without saying “Resigns.” Bachmann (game 241) ends here saying mate but it is not (yet). Pickard and ChessBase have additionally: 27. … Kh4 28. Rb3. Steinitz was elected an honorary member of the City of London Chess Club, but exactly when this occurred does not seem to have been stated anywhere. Perhaps the information is lacking because his election had already occurred before the club had grown sufficiently for its major meetings to be reported in the chess columns, especially that of Land

Edwyn Anthony of Hereford, Oxford University and then the London law courts. (From The Chess-Monthly, XII [April 1891].)

and Water, which only started in August 1870. He had surely received this accolade at least a year before the club’s annual dinner on 7 February 1872 when it was Steinitz himself who proposed a toast to the honorary members.15 An honorary member could use the facilities of a club without payment, but it would normally be expected that in return he would participate in events, such as simultaneous displays, lectures or informal coaching for the benefit of ordinary members. Unusually, though, a revision of the club rules permitted honorary members to play a role in the management of the club. At the annual general meeting on 3 January 1871 the secretary said in his report that in the past 12 months the membership had increased from 33 to 107 members, in view of which a revision of rules would be required. On that occasion, Blackburne was elected to the committee.16 Twelve months later the membership had risen to 150. At the 1872 general meeting on Friday, 5 January the new rules were adopted and Steinitz was elected to the committee for the first time: a fateful decision that ultimately led to the crisis of 1875 discussed in Chapter 9.17 Steinitz had been named as one of the more than a hundred people attending the previous club dinner, held on 21 February 1871, but the wording of the report does not clarify whether he was only a guest. Land and Water said the company included “most of the leading players of the day

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resident in London, amongst them being Herren Steinitz, Hirschfeld, Hoffer, and Löwenthal, and Messrs. Blackburne, Potter, and Wisker—most of the foregoing being themselves members.”18 In the same column of 29 April 1871, Steinitz was among those named as likely to play for the City against the Westminster Chess Club in an upcoming match. This indicates he was definitely a member of some sort by then, although he did not take part when that match came off on 23 June. As Steinitz had not played in the club’s 1870/71 handicap tournament, this suggests he was not yet a member in time to compete in that. It may have been at the City of London Club, also, that he made the acquaintance of Amos Burn (1848–1925), who was to later acknowledge he had been a pupil of Steinitz.19 Burn soon made his mark in the 1870 Challenge Cup tournament and later became, with Blackburne, one of the two strongest home-grown chess masters England produced in the nineteenth century.20 Originally from Hull, Burn had moved to Liverpool as a teenager where he was trained to work in the family business run by his eldest brother Richard. It was in that city Burn learned chess and when he was sent to London—from around May 1870 for about nine months—to gain

Amos Burn was Steinitz’s most successful pupil. The picture dates from about 1870 when Burn briefly lived in London. (From The Chess-Monthly, X [January 1889] but the original source is unknown.)

wider commercial experience, he also seized the opportunity to develop his chess skills. Burn’s biographer Richard Forster says that Steinitz “taught the young man from Liverpool the deeper secrets of chess, and helped turn a promising provincial player into a well-versed chess master.”21 The City of London Chess Club was important in Steinitz’s London career over the next five years. The earliest account of its origins was written in installments by Dr. J. W. Hunt in his column for the East Central Times, between 17 August and 4 September 1889, but this is less reliable than the lengthier article by J. G. Cunningham which was published in the January 1893 number of B.C.M., with follow-up letters in the March and April issues.22 Apparently Cunningham had access to the earliest minute books of the society. Finally, Sergeant’s account in Chapter X of his book tidies up a few details. Drawing on these sources, one can paint a picture of how the club was when Steinitz first came to London, and an account of his years as a member; why he left it, and the later history of the club will be told where chronologically relevant later in this book. Over a 40-year period, the City of London Chess Club had many homes around the City. It was founded in December 1852 and its first known venue was the Horns Tavern, Gutter Street, close to the General Post Office on Mount Pleasant. The B.C.M. correspondence raised some doubt about whether the earliest meetings were held there or at a house, which by 1893 was no longer existing, near the Guildhall. There were originally seven members: the brothers G. S. and W. G. Howard, J. Butters, H. Lascelles, J. Morgan, E. A. Rose and T. W. Williams. A younger Howard brother, Thomas, was permitted to join on 5 April 1854, along with J. J. Watts and maybe some others, but in those days the club’s existence was known to only a few. There may have been many such essentially private chess clubs, such as the one recorded by John Swan in his manuscript magazine of 1856 which is preserved in the London Metropolitan Archives.23 This nameless club appears to have had a core of three or four regular members including the editor, sometimes meeting in private houses in the Minories (an area near the Tower of London) and sometimes at a tavern or restaurant called Torrianos, but about half a dozen other people are mentioned as playing chess in the club, including four women (who never played at the public venue). In 1856 the City of London Chess Club moved briefly to Foster Lane and, by 1858 at latest, to the White Hart, King Edward Street, where it stayed somewhat longer (said Hunt) but by 1860 it had settled at the Green Dragon in Fleet Street. That was the club’s venue when Steinitz came to London but it is possible he never visited it in those days. Its emphasis was still on social play and there were no formal competitions. The first professionals to visit the club were Falkbeer and Kling in the early 1860s; Sergeant says Falkbeer first came in 1861. By 1864 those two were regulars and were elected

7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871 honorary members. According to Cunningham, their regular play with the stronger amateurs “produced a visible improvement in the all-round play of the club.” Early in 1866 the club had to leave the Green Dragon after seven years, because of alterations to the premises, and, having reached about 40 members, they took a larger room at Mouflet’s Hotel, 24 Newgate Street. They parted with the Green Dragon on friendly terms, as can be seen from the fact that its landlord, William Comber, was an honored guest at their annual supper in the new premises on 6 March 1866 at which he was presented with an inscribed silver cup.24 Cunningham says they did not stay long at Mouflet’s, “the then landlord proving anything but agreeable,” and instead sought quiet premises that did not involve a long climb up many flights of stairs to a back room. They eventually found a suitable room at the City of London Tavern, 11 Bishopsgate, not far from where the Liverpool Street railroad terminus later opened. Membership continued to grow and Cunningham says that in 1866 the club held its first handicap tournament. On 15 February 1867 they elected Blackburne an honorary member.25 All the information about this, and the club’s early years, in Sergeant’s history is taken from Cunningham’s article. He went on to say that the names of Bird, Boden, de Vere, Horwitz, Löwenthal, Steinitz, and Wisker were added to the roll of honorary members over the next few years, but without specific dates.26 Since this was an alphabetical list, and Renette says that Bird was elected an honorary member only in 1873,27 nothing can be deduced about the date of election of Steinitz. Cunningham did say that Potter joined as an ordinary member on 27 May 1870; he was undoubtedly the strongest amateur player associated with the club in that decade when he was an active competitor. Potter won the club’s winter handicap in the 1870/71 season, defeating Blackburne in a mini-match of five games in the process. The closure of the London Chess Club led naturally to a new accession of members in 1870. The City of London, by then, was meeting twice a week instead of once; this later rose to three and the number of members reached 100. That year they played their first club match, against the Westminster, which they lost, but neither team was representative of the clubs’ full strength. In 1871 the City of London won a return match and a year or so later the Westminster effectively became only a whist club. Hunt’s version of the story said it was around 1866 that the City of London Chess Club had to pay more rent and accordingly raised the annual subscription from five shillings to half a guinea (10s. 6d.) He says their challenge to Vienna Chess Club was a way of getting publicity, but Hunt foreshortened the time-scale since that match only began in 1872. Cunningham correctly says the rise in subscription (with a five shilling joining fee) was introduced in 1876. In the fall of 1871 they increased the number of their weekly

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meetings from two to three, a sure sign of growing activity.28 On 1 January 1873 the club moved to the City Restaurant, 34 Milk Street (off Cheapside), and membership reached 150 that year.29 Then in September 1874, just when they were already planning to move, those premises were damaged by fire on 14 September, a detail not mentioned in the early reports.30 The club’s new premises were at the Horn Tavern, 31 and 33 Knightrider-street, Doctors’ Commons.31 That was nearer the Thames, further from their usual haunts. The City of London Chess Club, at its early peak in January 1875, had over 400 members, said Cunningham. After its political upheavals later that year, described in Chapter 9, the club lost members (including Steinitz) and removed on 9 February 1876 to the Grand Restaurant de Paris, Ludgatehill, where members spent a few uncomfortable months, until they found somewhere more suitable. On Wednesday, 28 June 1876, they made their second visit to Mouflet’s Hotel, where they remained for many years so presumably there was now a more accommodating landlord. Only after Steinitz had left England did they move again, from Mouflet’s to the Salutation Inn, nearby at 17 Newgate Street. The November 1884 B.C.M. reported (page 395) that on Monday 29 September the club had celebrated moving premises by holding one of their famous “little suppers” which was attended by both Blackburne (a few weeks before he left for Australia) and Zukertort (his first appearance at the club since returning from America). When Dr. Hunt wrote his article for the Shoreditch newspaper, the club was at the Salutation. He said that this place had been “prospected” earlier when they left the Green Dragon but “the committee reported that it was ‘too smart’ since it possessed the luxury of a carpet.”32 Then on 3 October 1892 the club moved to larger premises at the Guildhall Tavern, in King street, where it was based at the time Cunningham wrote his account.33 Its last move during Steinitz’s lifetime was in 1898 to 7 Grocer’s Hall Court, Poultry, which is close to the Bank of England. By then it was clearly the premier chess club in the United Kingdom, which it remained up to the 1930s until it joined forces with the ill-fated National Chess Centre at John Lewis’s department store in Oxford Street, which was destroyed in 1940 along with most of the club’s records and trophies.34

305. G. H. D. Gossip–Steinitz Casual game, London, April 1870 King’s Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 242) from I.L.N., 23 April 1870: “an instructive Partie just played.” It is also in Gossip’s The Chess-Player’s Manual (1st ed., 1875), pages 474–475. Gossip missed a clear win at move 28.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Nh5 9. Nc3 0–0 10. Ne2 f6 11. Nd3 Qe8 12. 0–0 f3 13. Nef4 Ng3 14. Re1 Ne2† 15. N×e2 f×e2 16. Q×e2 Qh5 17. Bf4 Q×h4 18. g3 Qh5 19. B×d6 c×d6

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Steinitz in London

20. Nf4 Staunton: “From this point White has very much the better position.” 20. … Qg5 21. Ne6 “Mr. Gossip played too impetuously here. He would have done better, perhaps, by moving 21. Kg2 with the object of opening an attack through his KR file. It must be admitted, however, that he did tolerably well by the move made, inasmuch as he shortly obtained a position where winning to him was a certainty with moderate skill and care.” 21. … B×e6 22. d×e6 Re8 23. e7† Kg7 24. Qe6 Nc6 25. Q×d6 h5 26. Re6 Rac8 27. Rf1 Qd2 “Bad, but he had no good move left.” 28. Bd3? “Here, as was shown in a back game played by Messrs. G. and S., White had a sure and easy road to victory”: 28. Rf×f6 Q×d4† 29. Q×d4 N×d4 30. Rg6† Kf7 (“best”) 31. Ref6† K×e7 32. Rf7† and mate next move. “Back game” probably meant postmortem analysis or skittles. 28. … Qb4 29. Q×b4 N×b4 30. Bb5 Nc6 31. d5 R×e7 32. B×c6 R×e6 33. B×b7 Rc7 34.  d×e6 R×b7 35.  Rd1 Kf8 36.  b3 Ke7 37.  Rd5 K×e6 38. R×h5 f5 39. Kf2 Rc7 40. c4 Rd7 … “And the game was ultimately drawn.” (½–½). Many old reference works say that Steinitz won a match against Blackburne in 1870 by a 5–0 margin with one draw, but there was no such lengthy contest. They did play a small match for a prize of six pounds and the City Championship. We saw that in 1869 Steinitz defeated Blackburne 1–0 in a prize game, and when this was repeated in 1870 Steinitz again scored the one decisive game after a draw.35 It is a mystery what the other three Steinitz wins were supposed to have been. There is no record of them around this date in any primary source, but practice games between them as preparation for the Baden-Baden tournament would have been possible. The Era stated the venue for the decisive prize game was the London Chess Club, which had just closed; it must have been played at Purssell’s restaurant, on the ground floor of the same building. There is some confirmation of this in the Westminster Papers profile of Steinitz in March 1876 which refers to “a couple of scratch games” they played some years ago “at a city bun-shop” which was a joking label sometimes applied to Purssell’s.

306. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz City Championship mini-match (1), Purssell’s, April or May 1870 Ponziani Opening, by transposition from Ruy Lopez (C44) Bachmann (game 239); W.P., III (June 1870), page 21; The Era, 21 August 1870. This game was adjourned and took 13 hours to complete. For more details and notes see Blackburne (game 122).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nge7 4. c3 d5 5. Qa4 f6 6. d3 Bd7 7.  0–0 a6 8.  B×c6 B×c6 9.  Qc2 Ng6 10.  Be3 Be7 11. Nbd2 0–0 12. Rfd1 Qe8 13. Nf1 Bd6 14. Ng3 Ne7 15. Nh4 g6 16. c4 d×c4 17. d×c4 Nc8 18. Nf3 Be7 19. c5 Na7 20. Ne1 Qf7 21. Nd3 Rfd8 22. f3 Rd7 23. Ne2 Rad8 24. a4 Qe6

25.  Nc3 Bf8 The game was adjourned here. 26.  b3 Be7 27. Nb4 R×d1† 28. R×d1 R×d1† 29. Q×d1 Bd7 30. Nbd5 Bd8 31.  Bf2 Nc6 32.  Kf1 Kf7 33.  Ke2 Ke8 34.  Kd3 Qf7 35. Kc2 Be6 36. Kb2 Na7 37. b4 Nc6 38. Ka3 Nb8 39. a5 Nd7 40.  Qd3 f5 41.  Ne3 c6 42.  Ned1 Be7 43.  Nb2 Qf8 44.  Nca4 Qh6 45.  Bg1 f×e4 46.  f×e4 Nf6 47.  Qc3 Qf4 48. Qf3 Qd2 49. Qc3 Q×g2 50. Q×e5 Kf7 51. Qd4 N×e4 52. Nc4 Bf6?? Black could have won in several ways, especially 52. … Qc2 as suggested at the time. 53. Q×e4 Q×g1 54. Nd6† ½–½

307. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne City Championship mini-match, Purssell’s (2), 1870 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Bachmann (game 240); W.P. III (June 1870), page 22; The Era, 14 August 1870; Blackburne (game 123).

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6 4. Bc4 Nc6 5. c3 Nf6 6. d3 0–0 7. Bb3 Qe7? 8. f5 d5 9. Qe2 d×e4 10. d×e4 Bd7 11. Bg5 a6 12. Nbd2 b5 13. Nf1 Na5 14. Ng3 N×b3 15. a×b3 Kh8 16. Nh5 Bc6 17. b4 Bb6 18. B×f6 g×f6 19. Qd2 B×e4 20. Qh6 Rg8 21. N×f6 B×f5 22. N×g8 R×g8 23. R×a6 e4 24. Nh4 Bg4 25. h3 Bc8 26. R×b6 c×b6 27. Rf1 Be6 28. Rf4 Bc4 29. Nf5 Qg5 30. Q×g5 R×g5 31. Ne3 Bd3 32. R×f7 Rg8 33. Ng4 Rd8 34. Nf6 e3 35. Rd7 R×d7 36. N×d7 Be4 37. g3 Bf5 38. N×b6 Be6 39. h4 Kg7 40. Ke2 Kf6 41. Na8 Ke5 42. Nc7 1–0

308. Steinitz–Amateur Casual game, London, 1870 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 238); W.P., III (July 1870), page 37. Steinitz “sacrifices” his queen for three minor pieces.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d5 4. e×d5 e4 5. Qe2 Bg4 6. Qe3 Bf5 7. Bc4 Nbd7 8. Nf3 Bc5 9. d4 0–0 10. Nh4 Ng4 11. Qg3 B×d4 12. N×f5! Bf2† 13. Q×f2 N×f2 14. K×f2 Nb6 15. Bb3 g6 16. Ng3 a5 17. a4 f5 18. Be3 h6 19. h4 Nc8 20. d6† Kh7 21. d×c7 Q×c7 22. Nd5 Qc6 23. Ne2 Ra6 24. Nd4 Qd7 25. Rad1 Ne7 26. Nf3 Qe8 27. Ng5† h×g5 28. h×g5† Kg7 29. Bd4† Kf7 30. Nc7† 1–0

First Visit to Oxford In the late 1860s, chess at Oxford University revived (there had previously been the Hermes Chess Club in the late 1840s and 1850s) and one man involved was Sir Winston Churchill’s father, then an undergraduate. According to an early club history, based on its minute books, the first meeting of the Oxford University Chess Club was held on 23 April 1869 in the house of a senior member, the Rev. Charles Edward Ranken (1828–1905), who was its president in its first year. The club was formally founded seven days later when the

7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871 rules were agreed. More than half a century later, in 1926, Falconer Madan (1851–1935), who represented Oxford at chess in the mid–1870s, gave a speech on the occasion of the 50th match between Oxford and Cambridge. He began by saying: “The Oxford club was formally started in 1869, but, as we have been informed on good authority, Lord Randolph Churchill of Merton College laid the foundations the year before.”36 Encouraged by Ranken, the new club engaged Steinitz to give no fewer than four professional visits, the first of which was on the 17th and 18th of May 1870. Several reports appeared in the local and national press. The following report was in the Oxford Times on 21 May and that in the Oxfordshire Weekly News on 25 May was essentially the same. UNIVERSITY CHESS CLUB. This young, but rapidly rising club, having secured the services of the celebrated player, Herr Steinitz (who, now that Morphy has retired, is regarded as holding the foremost position in the chess world), gave a blindfold séance on Tuesday night last, in the Town Council Chamber, kindly granted by the Mayor for the occasion. Some hundreds of University men were present at one time or another during the evening, as well as several of the leading citizens. Although, owing to the suddenness with which the séance was fixed, it was found impossible to invite so many at the latter as was wished. Herr Steinitz began blindfold play at 7:15, making his customary move against all of six antagonists, who were the Rev. E. L. Rankin [sic] (Vicar of Sandford), Lord R. Churchill, and Messrs. Anthony (President), [E. L.] Holland, Linton, and Wild. The marvellous accuracy of his memory and strength of play, when conducting six games simultaneously without sight of the board, were a source of astonishment and admiration to all present. At 11:50, Herr Steinitz, after a severe contest, succombed [sic] to Mr. Rankin, who is late President of the club, and a well known amateur; the other games being unfinished were adjourned to the club’s ordinary meeting at 18, Broad-street, on the following evening, when Herr Steinitz defeated his five opponents in a very short time, displaying (in addition to the faculties which he had previously exhibited) great rapidity of play. He then conducted simultaneously no less than twelve games (not blindfold) against other members of the club, together with Mr. Ward and other citizens invited, defeating all. During the afternoon he had also played a game against the Rev. Mr. Rankin [sic] and Lord R. Churchill in consultation, the result being a draw. He expresses himself greatly gratified by the good fight made against him in the blindfold game, as well as much pleased with the arrangements of the committee. We are glad to learn that the liberality of the Committee in throwing open the séance to the University has been rewarded by a large accession of members, so that it is in contemplation to engage a more spacious room in High-street, and to hold meetings twice, instead of, as at present, once a week.

There was also a report in a student newspaper, The Oxford Undergraduates’ Journal, also of 25 May, which was reprinted in Jackson’s Oxford Journal of 28 May and in August 1870 number of The Chess Players’ Quarterly Chronicle (page 120). Some of it also appeared in the Westminster Papers for July, page 33. From that account the following is extracted (not repeating details that are in the above report): Chess has been, within the period of our own recollection, at so low

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an ebb that we were only too glad a fortnight back to learn, in a letter from its Secretary, the existence of this young Club. Immediately afterwards the Committee procured the assent of the Club to obtaining a scientific exhibition from Herr Steinitz, generally acknowledged to be the player of the day. A private subscription among the members having been started to relieve the Club funds of a portion of this extra expense, the Committee generously determined to throw open the first séance to the whole University…. A very large number of University men (some hundreds, it is said), together with several of the leading townsmen were present; the majority had probably never before witnessed blindfold play in any degree of excellence; all were equally astonished at the unfailing accuracy of memory, the soundness and brilliancy of attack, displayed by the great German player, while conducting so many games at once against picked antagonists….

Of the six simultaneous blindfold games that Steinitz played on this occasion, three are well-known. In 1885, James Manders Walker (who was president of the O.U.C.C. at the time of the 1884 match against Cambridge), wrote a small history of the club to that date.37 He also collected several of the games played in the early years of the club, intending to publish them in a booklet entitled Reminiscences of the Oxford University Chess Club, which apparently was never completed. Nevertheless, several of these games (including nine from Steinitz’s three earliest blindfold exhibitions in Oxford) were published in a short-lived magazine entitled The Oxford Review, probably thanks to J. M. Walker, and these will be found below in their chronological order. From the May 1870 exhibition, only the game against Holland is missing.38

309. Steinitz–The Rev. C. E. Ranken Blindfold simul, Oxford, 17 May 1870 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 244); C.P.Q.C. (August 1870), pages 112– 113.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nc6 5. Bb5 Bd7 6. d3 Nge7 7. f5 a6 8. Ba4 0–0 9. Bb3 Na5 10. g4 N×b3 11. a×b3 f6 12. h4 Bc6 13. g5 Qe8 14. h5 f×g5 15. B×g5 N×f5 16. e×f5 R×f5 17. Ne4 Qf7 18. Rh3 B×e4 19. d×e4 R×g5 20. Qd3 Rg1† 21. N×g1 Qf2† 22. Kd1 Q×g1† 23. Kd2 Q×a1 24. h6 Rf8 25. Rf3 R×f3 26. Q×f3 Q×b2 27. Qg4 Qd4† 28. Ke2 Qe3† 29. Kd1 Qg1† 30. Q×g1 B×g1 0–1

310. Steinitz–E. Anthony Blindfold simul, Oxford, 17 May 1870 Giuoco Piano (C53) Notes and score from The Oxford Review, 22 June 1887, page 588.

Steinitz appears to have been friendly in later years with the Anthony brothers, Charles and Edwyn, and visited their home town of Hereford on several occasions, giving simultaneous and blindfold exhibitions at the town’s chess club of which they were leading lights. The elder brother Charles

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Steinitz in London

(born about 1841) became proprietor of the Hereford Times (as stated in the 1881 census) and for a time Edwyn conducted the chess column which ran for several decades in that weekly newspaper. Edwyn Anthony had matriculated at Christ Church (one of the largest colleges of Oxford University), on 13 June 1867, aged 23, which was old for an undergraduate. The census of 1871 shows he was a student at the Inner Temple (one of the Inns of Court in London which train attorneys), and was already married; he was finally called to the bar in 1877 after which he appears to have returned to practice law in Hereford. In Walker’s history of the university club, Anthony is described as “one of the best pupils Steinitz turned out.”39 1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Nc6 3. c3 Bc5 4. Nf3 d6 5. d4 Bb6 “5. … e×d4 followed by Bb4† would have saved the exchange of Queens, and consequent loss of the e-pawn.” 6. d×e5 d×e5 7. Q×d8† N×d8 8. N×e5 Nf6 9. f3 0–0 10. Na3 Be6 11. Bd2 Nd7 12. N×d7 B×d7 13. 0–0–0 Be6 14. B×e6 N×e6 15. Nc4 Bc5 16. Be3 Rfd8 “It is questionable policy for Black to be so prompt in exchanging, when a Pawn to the bad.” 17. R×d8† R×d8 18. Rd1 R×d1† 19. K×d1 B×e3 20. N×e3 c6 21. Nf5 Kf8 “21. … g6 looks more vigorous.” 22. Nd6 Nd8 “Black’s retrograding policy materially aids White’s development.” 23. Kd2 a6 24. Ke3 Ke7 25. e5 Ke6 26. Ke4 f6 27. f4 h6 28. e×f6 K×f6 29. g4 Ke6 30. Nf5 Kf6 31. h4 b5 32. g5† h×g5 33. h×g5† Kf7 34. Ke5 Nb7 35. Nd6† N×d6 1–0

311. Steinitz–Lord Randolph Churchill Blindfold simul, Oxford, 17 May 1870 King’s Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 245); C.P.Q.C. (August 1870), pages 110–111. Winston Churchill included this game in his biography of his father on pages 36–37 (taken with notes from the Chronicle). Also on page 72 he wrote that (around an unclear date, about 1877) Lord Randolph “played chess with Steinitz, who was living in Dublin at this time.” That final clause is certainly a misunderstanding: Steinitz never lived in Dublin but he gave Churchill chess lessons in London (see Chapter 11).

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Qe7 6. d4 d6 7. N×g4 Q×e4† 8. Qe2 d5?! 9. Ne5 Nh6 10. Nc3 Bb4 11. Q×e4 d×e4 12. B×f4 Nf5 13. 0–0–0 B×c3 14. b×c3 Nd6 15. c4 f6 16. c5 f×e5 17. B×e5 Nf7 18. B×h8 N×h8 19. Re1 b6 20. R×e4† Kd8 21. Bc4 Bb7 22. Rg4 Ng6 23. h5 Ne7 24. Re1 Nbc6 25. d5 Nb4 26. c6 Bc8 27. Rg7 Nb×c6 28. d×c6 N×c6 29. Bb5 Bb7 30. Rd1† Ke8 31. R×c7 Kf8 32. Rf1† Kg8 33. Bc4† 1–0

312. Steinitz–E. F. Linton Blindfold simul, Oxford, 17 May 1870 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 243) says this game was played on 19 May 1870 but it was the 17th. It was annotated in the C.P.Q.C., October 1870, pages 133–134, and reprinted in the Oxford

Review, 8 June 1887. Alumni Oxonienses informs that Edward Francis Linton, from Hampshire, had matriculated at University College on 13 October 1866, aged 18.40 Linton was named in Land and Water as a committee member and third prizewinner in the club tournament. After graduating, he became a clergyman, first in Manchester and afterwards in Norfolk.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 d5 5. e×d5 N×b4 6. Ba3 b6 7. 0–0 Nf6 8. d4 e×d4 9. Re1† Kf8 10. N×d4 Nb×d5 11. B×c5† b×c5 12. Nf3 Qd6 13. Na3 c6 14. Qd2 a5 15. Bf1 a4 16. Nc4 Qf4 17. Q×f4 N×f4 18. Nb6 Rb8 19. N×a4 Be6 20. N×c5 Ke7 21. Ne5 Rhc8 22. g3 N4d5 23. N×f7 K×f7 24. N×e6 h6 25. Bc4 Kg8 26. Rab1 R×b1 27. R×b1 Kh8 28. Rb7 g6 29. a4 Ra8 30. Bb3 Re8 31. Nd4 Rc8 32. a5 Ne4 33. N×c6 R×c6 34. B×d5 1–0

313. Steinitz–C. T. Wild Blindfold simul, Oxford, 17 May 1870 King’s Gambit (C37) Notes and score from The Oxford Review, 11 May 1887, page 448. Charles Thompson Wild, was at Christ Church from 1868 to 1872 and studied at Lincoln’s Inn from 1871.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bc5 “A bad move.” 5. b4 “Offering to convert the game into the opening known as the Double Gambit.” 5. … Bb6 6. Bb2 f6 7. N×g5 h5 8. B×g8 Qe7 9. Bf7† Kd8 10. Bb3 Rf8 11. Nf3 Q×e4† 12. Qe2 Qc6 13. b5 Qd6 14. Nc3 f5 15. Nd5 c6 16. Be5 Qg6 17. N×f4 “Herr Steinitz might have gained the Black Queen by 17. Bf6†. If 17.  … R×f6 he mates at once by 18.  Qe7.” 17.  … Qh6 18. Qd3 d5 19. 0–0–0 Nd7 20. g3 h4 21. Rde1 Bf2 22. b×c6 b×c6 23. Qc3 Re8 24. N×d5 Bb6 25. N×b6 a×b6 26. Bc7† K×c7 27. R×e8 h×g3 28. Re6 Qf4 29. R×c6† Kb8 30. R×c8† Kb7 “And White announced mate in two moves” (1–0).

314. Steinitz–R. Churchill, The Rev. C. E. Ranken and E. Anthony Consultation game, Oxford University Chess Club, 18 May 1870 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 246); I.L.N., 27 August 1870. Bachmann wrongly dates this game to August but The Oxford Undergraduates’ Journal makes it clear that it was played on the afternoon of May 18th (and so before the resumption of the unfinished blindfold games) and says it was drawn in six hours after a “grand fight.”

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 Bb4 4. f×e5 B×c3 5. b×c3 N×e4 6. Nf3 0–0 7. Be2 Nc6 8. Bb2 d6 9. e×d6 Q×d6 10. 0–0 Be6 11. d4 Rad8 12. Qc1 Rfe8 13. Bd3 Bg4 14. Nd2 Ng5 15. Nc4 Qh6 16. Qf4 Qh5 17. Ne3 Be2 18. B×e2 Q×e2 19. Rae1 Qh5 20. d5 Ne5 21. c4 f6 22. Bc3 Qg6 23. Qf5 Ngf7 24. c5 c6 25.  d6 b6 26.  Qf4 b×c5 27.  Nf5 N×d6 28.  N×d6 R×d6 29. B×e5 f×e5 30. R×e5 Rf6 31. Qc4† Kh8 32. Rfe1 Ref8 33. Q×c5 Qf7 ½–½

7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871 After his visit to Oxford, though probably with a few days at home in between, Steinitz traveled north to attend the annual meeting on Saturday, 21st May of the West Yorkshire Chess Association in Halifax. During the course of that day, Steinitz played two small simultaneous exhibitions, firstly against nine opponents and afterwards against six, winning every game. Three days later he played six games simultaneously blindfold at the Halifax Mechanics Institute, again with a 100 percent score.41

315. Steinitz–J. Walsh Blindfold simul, Halifax, 24 May 1870 Sicilian Defense (B30) Bachmann (game 237) incorrectly says this game was played in a simultaneous exhibition in London on 12 June 1870, which was the day the game was published in The Era. Walsh was apparently a local Halifax player (no forenames or initials were stated) but when the Westminster Papers of July 1870 reprinted the game on page 33, they said J. Walsh. So conceivably the loser was the editor of The Field but the name is common so probably it was not he.

1. e4 c5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. Nf3 h6 4. d4 c×d4 5. N×d4 Qb6 6. Be3 Q×b2 7. Ndb5 Qb4 8. Nc7† Kd8 9. Bd2 Rb8 10. Rb1 Qd4 11. Bd3 Nb4 12. N3b5 N×d3† 13. c×d3 Q×d3 14. Ne6† 1–0 Lastly, on Friday, 27 May, Steinitz played at the Leeds Chess Club.42 Steinitz was a guest of Edward Riley of Leeds during his visit to Yorkshire. The following paragraph is a report which appeared in The Chess Players’ Quarterly Chronicle for August 1870, on page 121. It was probably written by the Rev. Arthur Bolland Skipworth who was living in Yorkshire at this time, and had certainly attended the Halifax meeting the previous Saturday. The Leeds Chess Club and Herr Steinitz. The members of the Leeds Chess Club had a numerously attended meeting on Friday evening, May 27th, 1870, at the Great Northern Station Hotel, to welcome Herr Steinitz, the well-known chess player, to Leeds. Mr. Steinitz played a consultation game against some of the best players in the club, and members of the Huddersfield, Halifax and Bradford clubs united. The game, although well sustained by the numerous players for a time, was resigned in favour of Mr. Steinitz in about two hours and a half. Mr. Steinitz also played ten games simultaneously during the evening, winning every game in less than an hour.

316. I. Inman, W. C. Myers and A. Bilborough– Steinitz Consultation game, Leeds Chess Club, 27 May 1870 Giuoco Piano (C50) Bachmann (game 245a AND game 357); from C.P.Q.C. (October 1870), pages 135–136. The latter names the allies as Inman, Myers and Bilborough.43 The above report tends to show that although those three were presumably the main players, other onlookers also made

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suggestions. Bachmann got himself into a muddle over this game. In his first edition, volume 2, it was game 357 with one of the names different (Simon instead of Inman) and the wrong year. In volume 4 he repeated the game as no. 965 on pages 382–383. In the second edition, he included it in the new volume 1 as game 245a with precise details and a few notes, but he forgot to remove no. 357 and so the game is in twice, once with correct details and once with incorrect!

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 f5 4. d3 Nf6 5. Qe2 Bc5 6. h3 f4 7. c3 d6 8. b4 Bb6 9. Bb2 h6 10. Nbd2 g5 11. Nh2 Qe7 12. Nb3 h5 13. 0–0–0 a5 14. b5 Nd8 15. a4 Be6 16. Nd2 Rg8 17. d4 Nf7 18. B×e6 Q×e6 19. d5 Qd7 20. c4 g4 21. h×g4 h×g4 22. Nhf1 Ke7 23. g3 f3 24. Qe1 Rh8 25. R×h8 R×h8 26. Ne3 Ng5 27. Nf5† Kf7 28. Ne3 Ng×e4 29. N×e4 N×e4 30.  Qg1 B×e3† 31.  f×e3 Qf5 32.  Rf1 Rh3 33.  Kd1 N×g3 34. Qf2 Qd3† 0–1

Baden-Baden, July–August 1870 Baden-Baden 1870 was the first international tournament held in Germany. Circumstances conspired against the plans of Ignaz Kolisch to make it also the greatest international tournament the world had yet seen. The prizes would be larger than in Paris 1867 (which he had won), and the unfortunate rule there that draws counted zero would be avoided by having all the competitors play best-of-three mini-matches, essentially the same pattern that Kolisch realized in 1873 at Vienna. Nevertheless, it was in most respects a definite advance on Paris and the tournaments that had been held in the United Kingdom. Together with associates including Russian writer Ivan Turgenev, it was originally planned for June 1869. When that fell through, the summer of 1870 was chosen but international politics intervened. Among several advance announcements, the Illustrated London News carried the following paragraph on 28 November 1868: CHESS CONGRESS AT BADEN-BADEN.—The German chess papers announce a “Great International Schach Congress” for 1869. It is to be held at Baden-Baden in June; and the promoting committee— Messrs. Furst Stourza [sic], I. Turgeniew and I. Kolisch—already promise a grand tourney, with a first prize of 3000f. a consultation match and a revision of the chess code.44

The venue may have been chosen by Turgenev, who was a keen chess player and had a long association with what was then the most popular spa in Europe. The town of Baden lies in the north-west of the historic state of Baden (now part of Baden-Württemberg), in the foothills of the Black Forest. Baden-Baden became the town’s official name in 1931, to distinguish it from other places in Europe with a similar name. Then the event was postponed for one year. Stefan Haas explains in his German tournament book: “A prospectus was

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Steinitz in London

printed and the invitation appeared in the chess magazines. For unknown reasons, the tournament was not realized and Kolisch had to accept some criticism, because several chess friends had traveled to Baden-Baden in vain.”45 It seems likely that Kolisch, in 1868/9, was too distracted with other matters, including his move to Vienna, and other people may have let him down. In 1870 he took the primary responsibility for ensuring the tournament took place. He traveled to Baden-Baden weeks in advance; he provided precision clocks for timing the games; above all, he drew up a much-improved set of tournament rules. Knowing well the shortcomings of previous international tournaments, Kolisch resolved that a calendar of rounds would be decided in advance, with play to start at a fixed time and latecomers defaulted after an hour and a half. Because of the peculiar circumstances that pertained when the tournament began, however, some of Kolisch’s improvements were not fully put into practice until Vienna 1873.46 The new date of July 1870 was high season in the fashionable spa town. Baden-Baden attracted wealthy visitors from all over Europe and even America. In one of his later articles for the Wiener Allgemeine Zeitung, Kolisch describes how, after the quiet of June when he was making preparations, rich people now crowded the place and the most exclusive restaurant in the town was not interested in anyone who wanted to order anything to drink other than champagne. Then (to paraphrase Kolisch’s ironic tone), over a trivial matter concerning the Spanish succession, Napoleon III had the temerity to declare war on Prussia instead of waiting for the chess tournament to end. Suddenly the town of Baden-Baden became almost deserted as the glitterati hurried to the railroad station and fled to Switzerland. The organizers decided that, notwithstanding its geographic closeness to the French border, it would be safe to continue the tournament, albeit on a reduced schedule. Plans for a revision of the chess code were abandoned. Kolisch recalled: I once again relied on the company of my chess players, who bravely stayed on the battlefield, and stood by their board even when a great battle was being delivered over their heads…. The chess tournament, which had lived an honorable but unnoticed existence in the noisy rage of the high season, came back into fashion, and the dozen or so gamblers who joined it formed thenceforth the main body of foreign visitors.47

Ironically, Löwenthal had noted in his new Land and Water column that an innovation at Baden-Baden, which he hoped would be copied in future, was that the winner of each game must supply a copy of the score to the secretary, under pain of having it declared drawn. Or in the case of a draw, White had to do so, lest it be declared lost.48 Probably because the tournament organization became increasingly difficult as the Franco–Prussian War developed, no contemporary tournament book was published and the scores of six of the games appear to be lost forever. Among them was one

Ignaz Kolisch, a signed picture donated to Löwenthal, from A Century of British Chess.

of Steinitz’s, against Winawer. La Stratégie suspended publication because of the war and although it returned a year later, it never did report properly on Baden-Baden. The majority of the games were published in the two German magazines and several were also published in England. From these sources, English researcher and publisher Tony Gillam was able to compile in 1999 a small book on the event (henceforth cited as “Gillam”), which also includes some translations from contemporary reports.49 The aforementioned book in German (cited below as “Haas”), includes the same set of games and also one casual game Steinitz played with Rosenthal before the tournament. Haas established from official visitor records that Steinitz was the first London-based player to arrive, on 10 July. Landsberger found a letter which Steinitz, while en route, sent to Kolisch on the 8th, from Koblenz, hoping to be met at the Baden railroad station.50 Steinitz lodged initially at the Hotel Bayrische Hof, across the road from the station.51 Since this proved too expensive and was also too long a walk to the playing venue, the Conversationshaus, private accommodation was found for him instead with a family at 12 Schloßstrasse, where he was afterwards joined by Blackburne and de Vere, and also the two Poles: Winawer and Rosenthal.

7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871 Other masters also lodged at different private houses, except for Anderssen and Kolisch who stayed at the Deutscher Hof hotel, presumably at their own expense. Eventually the tournament began with 10 competitors, soon reduced to nine because the youngest, 20-year-old Adolf Stern, was called up for service in the Bavarian army reserve. Dr. Lange also did not come to Baden, while Kolisch, long out of practice, always intended to be umpire instead. Some other players initially named as entrants did not eventually arrive, among them Steinitz’s old friend Meitner from Vienna. The absence of Zukertort is to be regretted, in the light of his subsequent career, but as yet he had never played internationally. Domanski and Lissowski noted an obscurantist explanation hidden away on page 244 of the July/August number of the Neue Berliner Schachzeitung (of which Zukertort was then co-editor with Anderssen). After mentioning Stern’s withdrawal, it said that Zukertort who “for various reasons” could not agree to enter beforehand, and “was prevented at the last moment by similar circumstances, to participate in the tournament.” In a note, the biographers coolly observe that there is no evidence that Zukertort was mobilized in the summer of 1870 to the Prussian Army.52 The implication may be that he was not confident about competing in such illustrious company. After he came to England, Zukertort became notorious for telling tall stories about events in his early life.53 The official opening meeting, chaired by the committee president, Mikhail Stourdza, was held on Friday, 15 July, when it was expected that there would be 11 competitors and that play would begin the following Monday, 18 July.54 That date may have been chosen because Turgenev was expected from Russia then, and also to accommodate the little-known Hungarian player, Dr. Samu Jacoby from Pest, who eventually did not arrive. Zavatarelli says that the reason for not starting until the 18th was that Anderssen was late; Haas said he arrived on the 16th. Because of the war, the tournament was shortened to two games against each opponent, with draws counting half a point as at Dundee. The two games in each pairing were intended to be played on successive days, but this pattern varied in the second half, probably to avoid anybody having two successive days without a game. A few games were even played on Sundays and some were defaulted for unclear reasons. Haas’s book was chiefly concerned with tracing the dayto-day progress of the tournament in relation to the political crisis and military developments. France ordered mobilization on the day before the official opening meeting. The Germans began mobilization on that day, 15 July. France declared war on the 19th, the date the second games of the first round were played. Both countries moved troops, mostly by rail, to the frontier as rapidly as they could. French troops crossed the German border on 2 August, by which time the truncated tournament was almost over. The decisive Battle of Sedan

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was fought on 1 September, when the French emperor Napoleon III was captured, but a new Republican government was formed and fighting in France continued into 1871. There is some uncertainty about the sequence of some games played at Baden-Baden, as Gillam explains. For the first few rounds, the D.S.Z. reports were in two-day groups, not specifying which game between two competitors was the first played, though sometimes other sources provide that information. The precise dates of Steinitz’s games with Blackburne were printed in The Era of 7 August, making it clear that his loss came first. This was the third time in succession that the Englishman had beaten Steinitz early in a tournament, and it would not be the last. The Westminster Papers said that Steinitz had some difficulty adjusting to the comparatively fast time-limit.55 His play grew stronger as the tournament progressed, which was often the case with Steinitz. The day after the opening meeting, but two days before the tournament proper began, Kolisch arranged the following consultation game. Haas found a report in a local newspaper saying that each member of the winning London team received 20 francs, although chess magazines had said that the prize for the winning side was 100 francs.56

317. J. von Minckwitz, G. R. Neumann and L. Paulsen–Steinitz, J. H. Blackburne and C. V. de Vere Consultation exhibition game, Baden-Baden, 16 July 1870 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 263), pages 277–278; Primary sources: N.B.S.Z., VII (1870), pages 273–275; D.S.Z., XXV (August 1870), page 255; W.P., III (August 1870), page 51; I.L.N., 13 August 1870.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. Bb2 Na5 10. d5 Ne7 11. Bd3 0–0 12. Nc3 c6 13. Qd2 c×d5 Three days later, the Blackburne–Steinitz game was played and Steinitz did not exchange pawns here, preferring 13. … Ng6. 14. N×d5 Ng6 15. N×b6 Q×b6 16. Rab1 Qd8 17. Qc3 Anderssen had unsuccessfully played 17. Nd4 in Game 201 against Steinitz. 17. … f6 18. Nd4 Nf4 19. Rbd1 Bd7 20. Qc1 N×d3 21. R×d3 Rc8 22. Qf4 Nc4 23. Bc3 Ne5 24. Rg3 Qb6 25. Nf5 B×f5 26. Q×f5 Rc7 27. Qe6† Kh8 28. Rd1 Rfc8 29. h4 h6 30. Bd4 Qc6 31. Qf5 Qc2 32. Rf1 Q×a2 33. f4 Qc4 34. Be3 Black soon mates after 34. B×a7 Q×f1† (W.P.). 34. … Nc6 35. Rd1 Re8 36. R×d6 Q×e4 37. Qh5 Rf8 38. Kh2 Qe8 39. Qd1 Qe4 40. Bc1 Rff7 41. Qg4 Qe8 42. Ba3 Qg8 43. Bb2 Qc8 44. Qh5 Qf8 45. Ba3 Qg8 46. Rgd3 Rfe7 47. Bb2 Re6 48. R6d5 Qf7 49. Qd1 Rce7 50. Ba3 Re1 51. Qg4? Qe6? 51. … R7e3 would have been strong. 52. Qh5 Qf7 53. Qf3? White would stand somewhat better after 53. B×e7 Q×h5 54. R×h5 R×e7. 53. … R7e3! 54. Qg4 R×d3 55. R×d3 f5 56. Qf3 Re4 57. Bb2 Kh7 58. Bc3 Qc7 59. g3 Qe7 60. Kg2 Re2† 61. Kf1 Rc2 62. Qd1

188

Steinitz in London

Rh2 63.  Qf3 a5 64.  Re3 Qc5 65.  Rd3 Rc2 66.  Bd2 a4 67. Rd7 a3 68. Qd1 a2 69. Kg2 Qc3 White resigned here according to D.S.Z.; the N.B.S.Z. had further moves: 70. Kh3 R×d2 71. R×d2 a1Q 0–1

318. S. Rosenthal–Steinitz Casual prize game, Baden-Baden, 16 July 1870 King’s Bishop’s Gambit (C33) Bachmann (game 264); Haas (game 1), page 52; from D.S.Z., XXV (Sept. 1870), page 265, saying a casual game (“freie Partie”) played for a prize to the winner of 20 francs. This game was presumably played after the consultation game had finished. Also in The Era, 30 October 1870, saying: “A dashing skirmish, played by Messrs. Steinitz and Rosenthal, for one of the minor prizes given at the recent Baden Meeting.”

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Bc4 d5 4. B×d5 Qh4† 5. Kf1 Ne7 6. Nc3 g5 7. d4 Bg7 8. Nf3 Qh5 9. h4 g4 10. Ng5 N×d5 11.  N×d5 f3 12.  N×c7† Kd8 13.  N×a8 h6 14.  N×f3 g×f3 15. Q×f3 Bg4 16. Qg3 Na6 17. Bf4 Re8 18. Re1 Re7 19. c3 Kc8 20. a4 b5 21. Qd3 Rb7 22. a×b5 Q×b5 23. Q×b5 R×b5 24. b4 Be6 25. Ra1 Rb7 26. d5 Bd7 27. Kf2 Nb8 28. Rhc1 Be8 29. Be3 a6 30. Nb6† 1–0

319. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Baden-Baden international (1.1), 18 July 1870 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Bachmann (game 265); Gillam (game 5); Haas (game 4); Graham (game 79); Blackburne (game 125); Primary sources: W.P., III (August 1870), page 58; D.S.Z., XXV (November 1870), page 347; N.B.S.Z., VII (1870), pages 245–246.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6 4. Bc4 Nf6 5. d3 Nc6 6. c3 0–0 7. Bb3 Bg4 Improving on their Game 311 played in June. 8. f5 d5 9. h3 B×f3 10. Q×f3 d×e4 11. d×e4 Qd6 12. Bg5 Rad8 13. Bc2 h6 14. Bc1? Kh7 15. g4 Rh8 16. Nd2 b5 17. Nb3 b4 18. Bd2 b×c3 19. b×c3 Na5 20. 0–0–0 Nc4 21. Kb1 Qa6 22. Bc1 Ba3 23. Ka1 B×c1 24. R×c1 Qa3 25. Rb1 Rd6 26. Rh2 Rb8 27. Bd3 Na5 28. N×a5 A blunder, but White was lost anyway. 28.  … Q×c3† 29.  Rhb2 R×b2 30.  R×b2 R×d3 31. Qe2 Re3 0–1

320. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Baden-Baden international (1.2), 19 July 1870 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 266); Gillam (game 7); Haas (game 10); Graham (game 60); Blackburne (game 126); Primary sources: L&W, X (10 September 1870), pages 188–189; D.S.Z., XXV (November 1870), page 348; N.B.S.Z., VII (1870), pages 246–247.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. Bb2 Na5 10. d5 Ne7 11. Bd3

0–0 12. Nc3 c6 13. Qd2 Ng6 14. Ne2 Bg4 15. Ng3 Rc8 16. Rac1 Re8 17. Kh1 c×d5 18. e×d5 B×f3 19. g×f3 R×c1 20. R×c1 Ne5 21. Bb5 Rf8 22. Rg1 f6 23. Nf5 g6 24. Qh6 Rf7 25. B×e5? 25.  f4 might have won. 25.  … f×e5 26.  R×g6† h×g6 27. Q×g6† Kf8 28. Qh6† Here D.S.Z. indicated that Blackburne repeated moves before playing Nh6 at move 32, whereas most sources follow L&W in omitting it and just give 28. Nh6.* 28. … Kg8 29. Qg6† Kf8 30. Qh6† Kg8 31. Qg6† Kf8 32. Nh6 Rg7 33. Qf5† Ke7 34. Qe6† Kf8 35. Qf5† Ke7 ½–½

321. A. Stern–Steinitz Baden-Baden international (2.1), 20 July 1870 Ruy Lopez (C60) Bachmann (game 267); Gillam (game 13); Haas (game 15); Primary source: D.S.Z., XXV (December 1870), pages 359–360. This was a curious game because of the circumstances under which it was played. Some writers imply that Stern was a weak player who had no business being in such a strong tournament, but this is probably a wrong assumption. In the early stages of this game, Stern showed what might have been had there been no war and he could have played the whole tournament. Then he blundered and Steinitz was winning before he made a series of bad moves, probably in time pressure.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nge7 4. d4 e×d4 5. 0–0 g6 6. N×d4 Bg7 7. Be3 0–0 8. f4 d6 9. Nc3 f5 10. N×c6 b×c6 11. B×c6 N×c6 12. Qd5† Kh8 13. Q×c6 Bd7 14. Qd5 Rb8 15. Rab1 Qe7 16. B×a7 Be6 17. Qd3? This loses the exchange whereas White would be two pawns ahead and close to winning after 17. Qd2. 17. … Rb4 18. Be3 Bc4 19. Qd2 B×f1 20. Nd5 Q×e4 21. N×b4 B×g2 22. Nd3 Bh3 23. b4 g5 24. Re1 g×f4 25. N×f4 Rg8 26. Kf2 Bf6?! 26. … Be5 was crushing. 27. Rg1 Bh4†? This is a blunder; 27. … Bg4 retains some of Black’s former advantage. 28. Rg3 Bg4?? Perhaps short of time, Steinitz went to pieces completely. 28. … Rg4 retained good fighting chances. 29. Bd4† Rg7 (see diagram)

After 29. … Rg7

wDwDwDwi Dw0wDw4p wDw0wDwD DwDwDpDw w)wGqHbg DwDwDw$w PDP!wIw) DwDwDwDw

*Curiously ChessBase includes the repetition but cites as its source the Gillam book which omits it. 28. Nh6 was also given in N.B.S.Z., Graham, Haas and this author’s Blackburne biography. Given that Blackburne is reported to have said that he repeated moves because his opponents did not like it, this author now believes that 28. Qh6† etc., was the actual continuation.

7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871 30. Qe3? 30. Ng6† wins a piece or forces mate, and some other moves retain an advantage for White, so this was probably a deliberate mistake by Stern. He knew that he could not continue the tournament, and he appears now to have had misgivings about spoiling the chances of his opponent. Minckwitz, who was one of the competitors, wrote in D.S.Z., 1870 (page 254), that Stern “freiwillig augegeben” (decided to abandon) a game he could have won. 30. … Q×c2† 31. Ne2 Q×a2 32. Qe8† Qg8 33. Q×g8†? Perhaps another deliberate mistake; the ending should be lost for White whereas 33. Qc6 or 33. Qd7 would draw. 33. … K×g8 34. B×g7 K×g7 35. Nf4 Kf7 36. b5 Ke7 37. Ke3 B×g3 38. h×g3 (0–1). Some databases record the official result as a draw and so generate the crosstable incorrectly. The Schachzeitung, however, reported that here White lost on time and so a win was recorded for Black. The players continued the game as a friendly: 38. … Kd7 39. Nd5 Kc8 40. Nf6 Kb7 41. Kf4 Be2 42. K×f5 B×b5 43. Ke4 h6 44. Ng4 Bc6†?! 45. Kf4 Bd7 46.  N×h6 A seven-man position has arisen, where the Lomonosov tablebase indicates that 46. … Kc8! is the unique move to force a long and difficult win in an eventual queen endgame. Steinitz may have seen this but felt it would be ungenerous to try to win the friendly sequel and this may also explain why he did not play 44. … h5. 46. … Be6? 47. g4 c5 48. g5 Kc6 49. g6 c4 50. g7 c3 51. Ke3 Kc5 52. Kd3 Kb4 53. Kc2 d5 54. g8Q B×g8 (unofficially ½–½): The final position is drawn. In the return game, his last before leaving Baden-Baden, Stern put up little resistance but Steinitz played prettily.

322. Steinitz–A. Stern Baden-Baden international (2.2), 21 July 1870 Sicilian Defense (B54) Bachmann (game 268); Gillam (game 18); Haas (game 20); Primary source: D.S.Z., XXV (December 1870), page 361.

1. e4 c5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. Nf3 e6 4. d4 c×d4 5. N×d4 d6 6. Bc4 Nge7 7. 0–0 Ng6 8. Be3 Be7 9. f4 0–0 10. Qh5 N×d4 11. B×d4 Bf6 12. Be3 B×c3 13. b×c3 Qc7 14. Bd3 Q×c3 15. f5 Ne5 16. f6 g×f6 17. Bh6 Rd8 18. Rae1 Kh8 19. Re3 Ng6? 19. … Rg8 was necessary. 20. e5 Qd4 21. R×f6 Kg8 22. B×g6 f×g6 23. R×g6† Kh8 24. Bg7† Kg8 25. Bf6† Kf8 26. Rg8† 1–0 Kolisch’s 1887 article about the tournament says a little about the leisure time of the players during the Congress. Most of the games were ended around noon, and people joined together for a meal, drank the black wine at the Curhaus, where all the waiters again devoted all their energy to us, and then conscientiously and zealously discussed the latest events and achievements—in the field of chess theory…. The promenade paths were desolate, and we therefore decided, in order to shorten the long afternoons, to make small excursions to the Rhine plain. The first such venture was not without difficulty.

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At a restaurant in Rastatt, they met a group of German officers who had heard of the chess tournament and Kolisch introduced the players. When Anderssen was mentioned, all the officers stood up and gave him a military salute. On the way home I took Steinitz aside. “Did you not notice,” said I, “that the list of our certainly world-famous names kept the officers strangely indifferent, while the name of Anderssen exerted a magical effect. Would not it perhaps be an indication for us to appear a little more humble … and to acknowledge our master in the staid old professor?” Steinitz was furious. “Draw from this incident all the conclusions you wish, but only for yourself; the judgment of these ignoramuses is not worth a chanterelle” [mushroom].

Although the fighting did not come close to Baden, there was understandable anxiety about espionage in the town. Haas tells of an incident involving Blackburne, whose driver turned out to be a spy for the French.57 The Westminster Papers and others reported that one of their walks to Rastatt got the London contingent into trouble when a patrol stopped them. Steinitz, who was able to speak to them in German, apparently offered to buy the soldiers a drink, a gesture which was misunderstood: His energetic “protest,” backed by the unmistakably British exterior of his companions, Mr. De Vere and Mr. Blackburne, eventually satisfied the commanding officer that the offer was a sudden ebullition of good friendship, and not an attempt at corruption by a French spy.58

Kolisch went on to say that events continued to develop inexorably over the next few days. Anderssen won both of his games against Steinitz; [Marshal] MacMahon lost the battles of Weissenburg and Wörth. Although one could clearly hear each and every cannon shot of this fierce battle in the Curhaus of Baden-Baden, I have to do justice to my chess players and admit the fact that not one of them was distracted from his deep-seated combinations, or diverted his attention from the chessboard for even one minute.

323. K. E. A. Anderssen–Steinitz Baden-Baden international (3.1), 22 July 1870 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 269); Gillam (game 22); Haas (game 25); Primary sources: D.S.Z., XXV (November 1870), pages 336–337; N.B.S.Z., VII (1870), pages 344–345; I.L.N., 14 January 1871.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d6 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. d5 Nce7 Steinitz had first played this move in an offhand game with Anderssen in 1862 (Game 71) but during their 1866 match he had always preferred the regular 9. … Na5. 10. e5 Nh6 11. Nc3 0–0 12. B×h6 g×h6 13. Ne4 Eight days later Anderssen played the stronger 13. Qd2! against Winawer but later went wrong and lost. 13. … d×e5 This position had arisen, with a transposition of moves, in Neumann–Steinitz at Paris (Game 271), where 14. N×e5 was played. Anderssen (according to the engines)

190

Steinitz in London

disimproves, but Black’s position is inherently passive and Steinitz was gradually outplayed. 14. Nf6†?! Kh8 15. N×e5 Ng6 16. N×g6† h×g6 17. Ne4 f5 Bachmann has 17. … Kh7 18. Qd2 f5 (transposing) but primary sources show the pawn moved first. 18. Qd2 Kh7 19. Nc3 Qf6 20. Rfe1 Bd7 21. d6 Rae8 22. d×c7 Bc6 23. Nd5 B×d5 24. Q×d5 B×c7 25. Qd7† Qg7 26. R×e8 B×h2† 27. Kh1 Q×d7 28. R×f8 Be5? 28. … Qd4 would have drawn said I.L.N., but the fatal error came at move 31. 29. Rb1 Qd4 30. R×b7† Bg7 31. Rff7 Qd1†? 32. Kh2 Qh5† 33. Kg1 Qd1† 34. Bf1 h5 35. R×g7† Kh6 36. R×a7 f4 37. Rg8 1–0

324. Steinitz–K. E. A. Anderssen Baden-Baden international (3.2), 23 July 1870 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 270); Gillam (game 29); Haas (game 29); Primary sources: D.S.Z., XXV (November 1870), pages 337–338; N.B.S.Z., VII (1870), pages 345–346; I.L.N., 4 February 1871.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nf6 5. Bc4 c6 6. f×e5 d×e5 7. Qe2 Nbd7 8. d3 b5 9. Bb3 a5 10. a3 Qb6 11. Nd1 a4 12. Ba2 0–0 13. Ne3 Ba6 14. Nf5 b4 15. a×b4 Q×b4† 16. c3 Qa5 17. Ng5 Rad8 18. Qf3 Qb6 19. Bb1? White could achieve a winning position by 19. Rf1 (Hübner). 19. … a3? Hübner: 19. … Qb3 would have given counterplay. 20. b4 White wins a piece, but eventually lost the game. 20. … B×b4 21. c×b4 Q×b4† 22. Ke2 a2 23. Bd2 Qb5 24. R×a2 Nc5 25. R×a6 Q×a6 26. Bb4 Rb8 27. B×c5 Rb2† 28. Ke3 Qa5 29. Rd1 Q×c5† 30. d4 e×d4† 31. Kf4 h6 32. Nh3 Re8 33. Qd3 g5† 34. Kf3 g4† 35. Kg3 R×e4 36. Qf1 Qe5† 37. Kh4 g×h3† 38. K×h3 Rb3† 39. g3 Rf4 40. N×h6† Kf8 41. Qc4 Rh4† 42. Kg2 R×h2† 43. K×h2 Q×g3† 44. Kh1 Qh3† 45. Kg1 Rg3† 0–1

325. Steinitz–S. Winawer Baden-Baden international (4.1), 24 July 1870 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 271); Gillam (game 33); Haas (game 32); Primary sources: W.P., III (September 1870), page 73; N.B.S.Z., VII (July/August 1870), page 251; D.S.Z., XXV (October 1870), page 311.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 Bb4 4. Nf3 B×c3 5. b×c3 Qe7 6. f×e5 N×e5 7. d4 N×f3† 8. Q×f3 White has already an overwhelming game said D.S.Z. 8. … d5 9. e5 Be6 10. Bd3 c6 11. Rb1 b5 12. 0–0 h5 Black plays the game weakly from this point said Minckwitz. 13. a4 a6 14. Qg3 g6 15. Ra1 Kd7? 16. a×b5 Kc7 17. Ba3 Qd7 18. Bd6† Kd8 19. Qg5† Kc8 20. b×a6 The three primary sources disagree over the finish to this game. Bachmann ends here; this follows D.S.Z. which says “and won.” Haas and Gillam give more, following the other two magazines. 20. … Qd8 21. Q×d8† K×d8 22. a7 Nh6 Here is a final discrepancy: 23. Rfb1 1–0.

This is the last move in N.B.S.Z., Haas and Gillam, but “23. Rab1 Resigns” is the finish in the Westminster Papers. Both rook moves win but Rfb1 seems the more plausible as the protection of the a-pawn is not abandoned.

325a. S. Winawer–Steinitz Baden-Baden international (4.2), 25 July 1870

0–1. The return game must have been won by Steinitz with the Black pieces, but the moves have not been preserved.

326. Steinitz–G. R. Neumann Baden-Baden international (5.1), 26 July 1870 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 272); Gillam (game 41); Haas (game 39); Primary sources: W.P., III (September 1870), page 73; D.S.Z., XXV (September 1870), page 269; N.B.S.Z., VII (1870), pages 248–249, The Era, 23 October 1870, and C.P.Q.C., February 1871, pages 201–202.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nc3 Nf6 3.  f4 d5 4.  d3 d×e4 5.  f×e5 Ng4 6. N×e4 N×e5 7. d4 Ng6 8. Nf3 Qe7 9. Bd3 f5 10. Bg5 Qe6 11.  0–0 f×e4 12.  B×e4 Bd6 13.  Ne5 B×e5 14.  d×e5 Nd7 15. Qh5 Ndf8 16. Rad1 Bd7 17. h3 Rg8 18. Kh1 Qb6 19. e6 B×e6 20. Rd2 a5 21. b3 a4 22. Rfd1 Bd7 23. R×d7 1–0

327. G. R. Neumann–Steinitz Baden-Baden international (5.2), 27 July 1870 Dutch Defense (A83) Bachmann (game 273); Gillam (game 43); Haas (game 43); Primary sources: D.S.Z., XXV (January 1871), pages 18–21, and N.B.S.Z., VIII (February 1871), pages 52–55. Bachmann (and Pickard) omitted several sequences of moves. More detailed annotations can be found in Renette and Zavatarelli’s study of Neumann (game 677, pages 330– 331), where they explain that Steinitz made extensive use of repetitions to tire out his opponent. That tactic nearly recoiled when Steinitz, in the endgame, allowed Neumann to reach a drawn, and at just one moment a winning, position, only for the German player in turn to go wrong again and suffer a devastating loss. Renette suggests that this exhausting game, ending in defeat, not only spoiled Neumann’s chances of winning the tournament (which had been real) but even affected his mental health thereafter.

1. d4 f5 This defense was a favorite of Steinitz in his youth but after his 1872 match with Zukertort he never again played it in serious competition. 2. e4 f×e4 3. Nc3 Nf6 Previously against the Staunton Gambit (Games 89, 91 and 257), Steinitz had played the passive 3. … e6, making no attempt to hold the pawn. 4. Bg5 c6 Nowadays 4. … Nc6 tends to be preferred. 5. B×f6 White does better to make it a real gambit by 5. f3. 5. … e×f6 6. N×e4 d5 As Staunton’s Chess Praxis had recommended, but compare Game 352. 7. Ng3 Qb6 8. Qe2† Kf7 9. 0–0–0 Na6 10. Qf3 g6 11. Bd3 Nb4 12. Kb1

7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871 h5 13. h3 h4 14. N3e2 N×d3 15. R×d3 Bf5 16. Rb3 Qc7 17. Nf4 Be4 18. Qg4 Bf5 19. Qf3 Be4 Steinitz begins a policy of repetitions because he found the rate of twenty moves in an hour somewhat fast, and time saved could be accumulated. Bachmann’s version diverges with 19. … Bd6 20. Nge2 a5 21. Rg1 a4 22. Re3 Rae8 23. g3, after which the position becomes the same as after 39. Qf3 in the correct version. 20. Qg4 Bf5 21. Qf3 Be4 22. Qg4 Bf5 23. Qf3 Be4 24. Qg4 Bf5 25. Qf3 Be4 26. Qg4 Bf5 27. Qf3 Be4 28. Qg4 Bf5 29. Qf3 Bd6 30. Nge2 a5 31. Rg1 a4 32. Re3 Rae8 33. g3 Be4 34. Qg4 Bf5 35. Qf3 Be4 36. Qg4 Bf5 37. Qf3 Be4 38. Qg4 Bf5 39. Qf3 Be4 40. Qg4 Bf5 41. R×e8 R×e8 42. Qf3 Qa5 43. Kc1 Qa6 44. Nc3 b5 45. g4 Bc8 46. Nd1 b4 47. Ne3 b3 48. a3 b×c2 49. g5 f5 50. N×c2 Qc4 51. Ng2 Re2 52. Nge1 f4 53. Kd1 Re4 54. Ng2 Qb3 55. Qc3 Q×c3 56. b×c3 B×h3 57. f3 Re8 58. N×h4 Rh8 59. Ng2 Rh5 60. Nge1 Bf5 61. Nb4 Bd7 62. Rg2 Ke6 63. Ned3 Kf5 64. Nb2 Rh1† 65. Kc2 Ra1 66. N×a4 R×a3 67. Nc5 B×c5 68. d×c5 d4 69. c×d4 R×f3 70. d5 Rg3 71. Rf2 f3 72. d×c6 Be6 73. Kd2 Ke4 74. Rf1 Rg2† 75. Kc3 Re2 76. c7 Re3† 77. Kd2 Re2† 78. Kd1 Bb3† 79. Kc1 Be6 80. Nc2 Bc8 81. Kd1 Bg4 82. c6 Kf4 83. Nd4 Re8 84. Kd2 Rc8 85. Kd3 Kg3 86. Rg1† Kf4 87. Rf1 Kg3 88. Rg1† Kf4 89. Rf1 Kg3 90. Rg1† Kf4 91. Rf1 Kg3 92. Rg1† Kf4 93. Rf1 Kg3 94. Rg1† Kf4 95. Rf1 Kg3 96. Rg1† Kf4 97. Rf1 Kg3 98. Rg1† Kf4 99. Rf1 Kg3 100. Rg1† Kf4 101. Rf1 Re8 102. Kc4 (see diagram)

wDwDrDwD Dw)wDwDw wDPDwDpD DwDwDw)w wDKHwibD DwDwDpDw wDwDwDwD DwDwDRDw

After 102. Kc4

102. … Kg3?? 102. … Rc8 was the correct move to hold the draw, e.g., 103. Kc5 R×c7 104. R×f3† B×f3 105. Ne6† etc. 103. N×f3 B×f3 104. R×f3†?? Instead 104. Kc5! would win for White, as shown by Renette and Zavatarelli. Contemporary annotators did not comment on these mutual blunders. 104. … K×f3 There has now arisen a seven-man ending from which the Lomonosov tablebase shows that Black can force checkmate in 30 moves. 105. Kd5 Ra8 106. Ke5 Ke3 107. Kf6 Rc8? The wrong plan; White should now have drawn. The best move is 107. … Kd4 (mate in 26) but 107. … Ke4 and 10. … Kf4 should also win. 108. K×g6 Kf4 109. Kf6 R×c7 110. g6 R×c6† 111. Kf7 Kf5 112. g7 Rc7† 113. Kf8?! The simplest draw is 113. Kg8 Kg6 114. Kh8 R×g7 stalemate, as several endgame textbooks show, e.g., Dvoretsky’s Endgame Manual (4th ed.), page 143. 113. … Kf6 114. g8N† (the only move) 114. … Ke6 115. Nh6 Rh7 116. Ng4?? 116. Ng8 would draw,

191

but now the N will be lost. 116. … Rh4?! 116. … Rh3! would have won immediately (mate in ten). 117. Ne3 Re4 118. Nd1 Rf4† 119. Kg7 Rf3 120. Kg6 120. Nb2 Kd5 121. Na4 Rb3 followed by …Kd4 and …Rb4 traps the N. 120. … Ke5 121. Kg5 Kd4 122. Kg4 Rf1 123. Nb2 Rb1 124. Na4 Rb4 0–1

328. J. von Minckwitz–Steinitz Baden-Baden international (6.1), 28 July 1870 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 274); Gillam (game 47); Haas (game 45); Primary sources: D.S.Z., XXV (October 1870), pages 303–304; N.B.S.Z., VII (December 1870), pages 368–370. Gillam has Steinitz’s games against Minckwitz the other way round. Haas, following the order in the Schachzeitung (of which Minckwitz was then the editor), puts this one first.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d6 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. Nc3 Na5 10. Bg5 This aggressive move, invented by Dr. Carl Theodor Göring (1841– 1879), was probably prepared as a surprise for Steinitz. According to Zukertort, Göring had “played it several times against Minckwitz in 1869,”59 but those games were unpublished and 10. Bg5 was played publicly for the first time here. Afterwards it was discussed in D.S.Z. for February 1871. 10. … Qd7!? The replies 10. … f6 and 10. … Ne7 were later much analyzed by Chigorin but the text move, which revives the threat of …N×c4, is not obviously bad. 11.  Bd3 h6 12. Bh4 Ne7 13. B×e7 Q×e7 14. Re1 Minckwitz wrote that 14. e5 is probably stronger, a view often repeated, but the computers disagree with that opinion and indicate that White should seek an improvement at move 12 or 13. 14. … c6 15. d5 Bg4 16. e5 d×e5 17. Qd2 B×f3 18. R×e5 Q×e5 19. Re1 Q×e1† Stockfish 10 prefers 19. … Be4! 20. Q×e1† Kf8 21. g×f3 h5 22.  Qe5 Rh6 23.  Ne4 c×d5 24.  Ng5 Kg8 25.  Q×d5 Rf8 26. h4 Nc6 27. Bc4 Nd8 28. Qf5 a6 29. f4 Bd4 30. Qe4 Bf6 31. f5 b5 32. Bb3 Ba1 33. Kg2 Bc3 34. f4 b4 35. Kf3 Rf6 36. Bd5 Kh8? 37. Qe7 Kg8?? 38. Qd7?? Both players overlooked the decisive blow 38. Nh7! 38. … Kh8 39. Ne4 After 39. Qe7 Black can struggle on with 39. … Rg8. 39. … Rh6 40. Qe7 Kg8 41. Qd7 Rb6 42. Nd6 a5 43. N×f7? After this Black equalized. 43. … N×f7 44. B×f7† R×f7 45. Qd8† Kh7 46. Q×b6 R×f5 47. Ke4 g6 48. Qd6 a4!? 49. Qd7† Kh6? This miscalculation renewed White’s winning chances, but the technical difficulties eventually proved too great for Minckwitz. The correct defense was 49. … Bg7 50. Q×a4 Bh6. 50. Q×a4 Bd2 51. Kd3 Bc3 52. Qe8 Ra5 53. a4 Rd5† 54. Kc4 Rf5 55. Kb3 R×f4 56. Qe3 g5 57. a5 R×h4 58. a6 Bd4 59. Qe6† Kg7 60. Qe7† Kg6 61. Qe6† Kg7 62. K×b4 62. Qf5 sets more problems for Black. 62. … Rf4 63. Qd7† Kg6 64. Kb5 h4 65. a7 B×a7 66. Q×a7 ½–½ Minckwitz’s final comments on this game were that he still stood to win in the final position (untrue) but had too

192

Steinitz in London

hastily accepted Steinitz’s draw offer. Then Steinitz later “had the audacity to claim that he had thrown away first prize” by failing to win this game.

329. Steinitz–J. von Minckwitz Baden-Baden international (6.2), 29 July 1870 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 275); Gillam (game 53); Haas (game 4); Primary sources: D.S.Z., XXV (October 1870), page 305; N.B.S.Z., VII (December 1870), page 371.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 Qh4† 5. Ke2 b6? 6. Nb5 Ba6 7. a4 Qh5† 8. Nf3 B×b5† 9. a×b5 Q×b5† 10. Kf2 Qh5 11. B×f4 Nf6 12. e5 Nd5 13. Bg3 Qh6 14. Qe2 Be7 15. Qe4 Qe6 16. Bc4 Nf6 17. Qe2 Ng4† 18. Kf1?? “A careless mistake,” said Bachmann; 18. Kg1 was the only move. 18. … Q×c4 0–1

330. Steinitz–L. Paulsen Baden-Baden international (7.1), 30 July 1870 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 276); Gillam (game 57); Haas (game 54); Kasparov, My Great Predecessors, I, pages 55–58; Neishtadt, pages 76–79; Primary sources: Westminster Papers, III (October 1870), page 91; The Era, 2 October 1870; D.S.Z., XXV (October 1870), pages 300–301; N.B.S.Z., VII (1870), pages 249–251.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 Steinitz repeats his gambit. 4. … Qh4† 5. Ke2 d6 6. Nf3 Bg4 7. B×f4 0–0–0 8. Ke3 Qh5 9. Be2 Qa5? 9. … f5 and 9. … g5 are the modern replies. 10. a3 B×f3 11. K×f3! Qh5† 12. Ke3 Qh4 13. b4 g5 14. Bg3 Qh6 15. b5 Nce7 16. Rf1 Nf6 17. Kf2 Ng6 18. Kg1 Kasparov noted that “Black’s scattered army is unable to come to the aid of its King.” Meanwhile White’s king has arrived at his natural home, 18. … Qg7 19. Qd2 h6 20. a4 Rg8 21. b6! a×b6 22. R×f6! Q×f6 23. Bg4† Kb8 24. Nd5 Qg7 25. a5 f5 26. a×b6 c×b6 27. N×b6 Ne7 28. e×f5 Qf7 29. f6 Nc6 30. c4 Na7 31. Qa2 Nb5 32. Nd5 Q×d5 33. c×d5 N×d4 34. Qa7† Kc7 35. Rc1† Nc6 36. R×c6 mate (1–0).

331. S. Rosenthal–Steinitz Baden-Baden international (8.1), 31 July 1870 Scotch Game (C45) Bachmann (game 278); Gillam (game 61); Haas (game 57); Primary sources: L&W, 19 November 1870 (with notes by Löwenthal); The Era, 11 December 1870; N.B.S.Z., VII (1870), pages 340–342, and D.S.Z., XXV (February 1871), pages 52–53.

Rosenthal–Steinitz and Steinitz’s first game with de Vere were played before the second game between Paulsen and Steinitz because of the rearrangement of rounds consequent upon the withdrawal of Stern. Both players threw away wins in this game.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  d4 e×d4 4.  N×d4 Qh4 5.  Nb5 Q×e4† 6. Be2 Bb4† 7. Nd2 Q×g2 8. Bf3 Qh3 9. N×c7† Kd8 10.  N×a8 Nf6 11.  c3 Re8† 12.  Be2 Qg2?! C.P.C., February 1873, pages 208–209, showed a variation by Rosenthal from La Stratégie beginning 12. … Ne5! (Computers suggest that 12. … Bc5 is also stronger than the move played.) 13. Qb3 (13. Qa4 would resist more tenaciously.) 13. … Nd3† 14. Kd1 N×f2† 15. Ke1 and now, instead of his 15. … N×h1, Black can mate in nine moves starting 15. … R×e2†. However, the actual game continuation was not printed in C.P.C. 13. Rf1 Nd5 14. Nc4 B×c3† 15. b×c3 N×c3 16. Ne3 R×e3 17. B×e3 N×d1 18. R×d1 Q×h2 19. Rd3 Qe5 20. f4 Qb8 21. Nb6 a×b6 22. B×b6† Ke8 23. Bc5 d6 24. B×d6 Qa7 25. Rff3 g6 26. Rfe3† Be6 27. f5 Qa5† 28. Rd2 Q×f5 29. Bf3 Ne7 30. Red3 Qb5 31. Ba3 f6? Black throws away his advantage; 31.  … Qb6 (N.B.S.Z.) was one way to retain it. 32. Re3 Qb1†? This should probably have lost the game. 33. Kf2 Qb6 34. Rd6? 34. B×e7 K×e7 35. Bd5 was strong. 34. … Nc6? This should definitely have lost, whereas 34. … Q×e3†! 35.  K×e3 Nf5† (N.B.S.Z.) is good for a draw at least. 35. Rd×e6† Kf7 36. B×c6 b×c6 37. Re7† Kg8 38. Kf3?! 38. Rd7! starts weaving mating nets. 38. … c5 39. Bc1 g5 40. Kg4? White was still winning with 40. Ra3 or 40. Rd3. 40.  … Qd6!= 41.  Re8† Kg7 42.  R3e7† Kg6 43.  Rg8† Kh6 44. Rgg7 Qd1† 45. Kf5 Qf1† 46. Ke6 Kh5 47. R×h7† Kg4 48. Be3 c4 49. Rh6 f5 50. Rg7 f4 51. Rf6 Kf3 52. B×f4 Qh3† 53. Ke5 g×f4 54. R×f4† Ke3 55. R×c4 Qh5† 56. Ke6 Land and Water ends here. 56.  … Qh6† 57.  Kf7 Qh5† ½–½

332. Steinitz–C. V. de Vere Baden-Baden international (9.1), 1 August 1870 Sicilian Defense (B46) Bachmann (game 279); Gillam (game 64); Haas (game 61); Primary sources: D.S.Z., XXV (January 1871), pages 30– 31; N.B.S.Z., VIII (February 1871), pages 50–52.

1. e4 c5 2. Nc3 e6 3. Nf3 Nc6 4. d4 c×d4 5. N×d4 a6 6. g3 Nge7 7. Bg2 N×d4 8. Q×d4 Nc6 9. Qe3 Bb4 10. 0–0 0–0 11. b3 d6 12. Bb2 e5 13. Kh1 Nd4 14. Nd5 Bc5 15. Qd2 Be6 16. Ne3 Rc8 17. Rad1 Nc6 18. f4 f6 19. Nd5 Kh8 20. a3 a5 21. Qe2 Nd4 22. Qd3 B×d5 23. e×d5 Ba7 24. Bh3 Rc7 25. c4 Re7 26. b4 a×b4 27. a×b4 Qe8 28. Qa3 Qh5 29. Bg2 Nf5 30. g4 Q×g4 31. Q×a7 e×f4 32. Bf3 Qh3 33. Rf2 Re3 34. Bg2 Qh4 35. Kg1 Qg4 36. Rdf1 Nh4 37. Bc1 Rfe8 38. Qa2 f3 39. B×e3 f×g2 40. Re1 h6 41. Qc2 Qh3 42. c5 g5 43. c×d6 Qd7 44. R×f6 Kg7 45. Re6 1–0

333. L. Paulsen–Steinitz Baden-Baden international (7.2), 2 August 1870 Three Knights’ Game (C46) Bachmann (game 277); Haas (game 64); Gillam (game 69); Neishtadt pages 79–82; Pritchett (game 7), page 54; Primary sources: W.P., III (September 1870), page 91; D.S.Z.,

7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871 XXV (October 1870), page 300; N.B.S.Z., VII (1870), pages

346–347.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 g6 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. d3 d6 6. Bg5 Qd7 7. a3 h6 8. Bh4 g5 9. Bg3 Nge7 10. h4?! g4 11. Nd2 h5 12.  Nd5? N×d5 13.  B×d5 Ne7 14.  Bb3 f5 15.  e×f5 N×f5 16. Nf1 c6 17. c3 Qc7 18. Qe2 Qb6 19. Ba2 Bd7 20. 0–0–0 0–0–0 21. f3 N×g3 22. N×g3 d5 23. Kb1 Bf8 24. Ka1 Bd6 25. Nf1 Rdf8 26. Nd2 Rh6 27. c4 Be6 28. Nb3 g×f3 29. g×f3 Bc7 30. Nd2? 30. Rc1 (Pritchett) was necessary. 30. … Rhf6 31.  Rc1 Kb8 32.  c×d5 c×d5 33.  Rhg1 Bd6 34.  Rg5 Bf7 35. Nb1 Qd4 36. Nc3 a6 37. Rg7 Be6 White lost through exceeding his time allowance by two minutes (0–1). Also on 2 August, eight of the nine competitors who still remained in the tournament addressed a letter of thanks to the committee “and particularly to Mr. Kolisch” for the excellent organization. “This is the first major tournament (Dundee perhaps excepted), which, thanks to firm rules, has taken an expeditious, quick, and smooth course, not marred by disputes.”60 As Zavatarelli observes, the one player who did not sign the letter was Steinitz. He speculates that “the frictions of Paris 1867 were still alive in the Bohemian’s memory or that they had been renewed during this tournament.” The incident Kolisch recounted above, where he annoyed Steinitz by suggesting that he should be more humble, might be at the root of the matter.61

334. Steinitz–S. Rosenthal Baden-Baden international (8.2), 3 August 1870 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 280); Gillam (game 73); Haas (game 66); Primary sources: N.B.S.Z., VII (1870), pages 267–268; C.P.C. (February 1871), pages 200–201; D.S.Z., XXV (February 1871), page 47.

193

Qh4 10. N×c7† Kd8 11. N×a8 Kc8 10. N×c7† Kd8 11. N×a8 Kc8 12. d5 Nf6 12. … Ne5 13. Qd4 Kb8 14. Qc3 13. d×c6 d5 14.  Qd4 Bd6 15.  Q×a7 b×c6 16.  Re1 Re8 17.  Kd1 d×e4 18. R×e4 R×e4 19. f×e4 Qf4 20. Bh3† Kd8 21. Rf1 Q×e4 22. Qb6† Ke8 23. Re1 1–0

335. C. V. de Vere–Steinitz Baden-Baden international (9.2), Thursday, 4 August 1870 Ruy Lopez (C60) Bachmann (game 281); Gillam (game 75); Haas (game 70). Primary sources: W.P., III (November 1870), page 108; N.B.S.Z., VII (1870), pages 342–343; D.S.Z., XXV (January 1871), pages 31–32.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nge7 4. Nc3 g6 5. d4 e×d4 6. N×d4 Bg7 7. Be3 0–0 8. 0–0 f5 9. e×f5 N×f5 10. N×f5 R×f5 11. Bc4† Kh8 12. Qd2 Qh4 W.P.: To stop the bishop from going to h6. 13. f4 d6 14. g3 Qd8 15. Rae1 Rf8 16. Ne4 Bf5 17. Ng5 Qd7 18. Bf2 Nd8 19. Bd4 h6 20. Nf3 Nc6 21. c3 Rae8 22. Nh4 Kh7 23. B×g7 K×g7 24. N×f5†? Q×f5 25. Bd3 Qc5† 26. Qf2 W.P.: 26. Rf2 is stronger. 26. … Q×f2† 27. K×f2 Ne5 28.  Be2 g5 29.  Kg1 g×f4 30.  g×f4 Ng6 31.  f5 Nh4 32. Bh5 R×e1 33. R×e1 R×f5 34. Re7† Kf6 35. Rf7† Kg5 36. R×f5† N×f5 37. Be2 Kf4 38. Kf2 Ne3 39. h3 Nf5 40. Bg4 Ng3 41. Bf3 Ne4† 42. Ke2 b6 43. Bg2 d5 44. Bf3 h5 45. Bg2 Kg3 46. Bf1 Ng5 47. Ke3 N×h3 48. Kd4 Nf4 49. Bb5 h4 50. Bd7 h3 0–1 Thus, on the final playing day, Steinitz overtook Blackburne’s score to take second prize behind Anderssen, despite his bad start. The closing banquet had been canceled, considered inappropriate, and because some competitors had probably left already or were about to do so. Kolisch also wrote about this in his article. He faced the awkward task of assisting the players to return to their respective homelands, especially those participants who had won no prize money.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 Neumann avoided a repeat of the gambit by playing 2. … Nf6, while Anderssen played 2. … Bc5. Chess players are not usually Croesuses, and when the train service 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 The C.P.C. editor remarked: “We are indebted was interrupted and the postal service suspended, they were all in the greatest embarrassment. I had to obtain certificates of legitimacy to the ingenuity of Mr. Steinitz for this move, a most hazardous one in all appearances, yet he plays it with Baden-Baden 1870 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Pts great success.” 4. … Qh4† 1 Anderssen, K. E. Adolf • 1 1 0 0 1 ½ 1 1 1 ½ 1 0 1 0 1 1 + + 13 5. Ke2 d6 Zukertort later 2 Steinitz, William 0 0 • 1 1 0 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 ½ 1 ½ 0 1 1 12½ introduced 5. … d5 (see 3 Neumann, Gustav R. 11 00 • 1 ½ 0 1 0 1 1 1 0 ½ 1 1 + + 12 Game 364). 6. Nf3 Bg4 4 Blackburne, Joseph H. 0 ½ 1 ½ 0 ½ • 1 0 1 1 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 1 + + 12 7. B×f4 B×f3† Trying to 5 Paulsen, Louis 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 1 • 1 0 1 ½ 1 ½ ½ + + + 9½ improve on Game 333. 6 de Vere, Cecil V. 0½ 00 10 00 01 • 0 1 + + 0 1 + + 8½ 8.  g×f3 Steinitz had 7 Winawer, Szymon A. 01 00 00 0½ 0½ 10 • 1 ½ 1 1 + + 8½ played 8. K×f3!? against Neumann in Game 279, 8 Rosenthal, Samuel 01 ½0 1½ ½½ 0½ –– 0½ • –– ++ 7 but although he won, he 9 Von Minckwitz, Hans J. 0 0 ½ 1 0 0 0 0 ½ – 1 0 0 0 + + • 11 7 afterwards preferred the 10 Stern, Adolf –– 00 –– –– –– –– –– –– 00 • 0 pawn recapture. 8.  … Draws were not replayed and scored half a point. The symbols + and – indicate games won and lost without play. Q×f4 9. Nd5 Qh6 9. …

194

Steinitz in London

for them, which I soon received by courtesy of the Baden authorities, and also provided them with the necessary travel money, Anderssen supporting me with a decent amount.

There are no particular reports about how the Londonbased players returned to England, except that in 1910 Hoffer recalled that “Blackburne and Steinitz and De Vere had some trouble on their home journey, the railway being fully occupied with the transport of troops.”62 Eventually Kolisch had seen everyone off, and could depart too, along with Minckwitz who had stayed until the end. Kolisch amusingly describes how they reached a small railroad station and after a few hours a train came in full of wounded soldiers. Displaying the resourcefulness of chess masters, they commandeered an unlocked boxcar where, using their luggage as improvised seating, they spent an uncomfortable day or two while the train made its way slowly to Leipzig.

Back to Oxford In October 1870, the B.C.A. held another championship tournament for its Challenge Cup but Steinitz was ineligible. The organization of the meeting was desultory, with no public events and no Handicap tournament, depriving Stein-

itz of the opportunity to win some more prize money. There was also talk in the press, towards the end of the year, of a second Dublin congress to be held during 1871. This would hardly have been on a grand scale, but it never took place, partly because the surplus from the 1865 congress, having been entrusted to the law student J. A. Rynd (then secretary and treasurer of the City and County of Dublin Chess Club), was misappropriated by him.63 Thus Steinitz was deprived of another small chance to shine. Better news for him was that he was invited back to Oxford in November, the new academic year having begun the previous month, and this time he stayed for a few extra days. A printed invitation card was found among the Oxford University Chess Club papers in the Bodleian Library. Probably circulated to club members around all the colleges of the university, it reads as follows: DEAR SIR. The famous player Herr Steinitz will pay the Chess Club a visit of four evenings, from Tuesday, Nov. 8th to Friday, Nov. 11th. On Thursday we meet in the Council Chamber of the Town Hall, when Herr Steinitz will play blindfold six games simultaneously against our six best players; to this Meeting all members of the University are invited. On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday we meet at our own room, where you can introduce a friend. Every member will be afforded the opportunity of playing with Herr Steinitz. Play begins each night at Seven o’clock. Yours faithfully, E. B. NICHOLSON, Secretary.64

Some reports were published afterwards, although it is understandable that this second blindfold exhibition was less of a novelty for the general press. However, the play appears to have gone much faster on this occasion, probably because arrangements for communicating the moves back and forth had been improved as a result of the earlier experience. A good account of Steinitz’s visit appeared eventually in the February 1871 number of the Chronicle, possibly written by Ranken, who again was one of the players. The score of his game was also published in that magazine. This report and the text of the above invitation card make it clear that the blindfold exhibition was played on Thursday, 10 November, but Bachmann wrongly dates it the 12th and curiously the Oxford Review accounts say those games were played on the 11th.

Johannes von Minckwitz, competitor at Baden-Baden 1870 and editor of the Schachzeitung at that time. Picture from Atelier Bellach, Leipzig. (Cleveland Public Library Digital Gallery.)

Herr Steinitz has lately paid another visit to the Oxford University Chess Club. On November 8th and 11th he played simultaneous games with eleven members of the club, and won them all. The second evening was devoted to a consultation game, Mr. Anthony and Mr. Ranken being the allies; this also was won by Mr. Steinitz after an obstinate fight, but the game was unfortunately marred by a slip on the part of his opponents. On the third night there was a public exhibition of Herr Steinitz’s wonderful blindfold play at the Council Chamber, kindly lent by the Mayor for the occasion, Mr. Steinitz contending simultaneously against six of the strongest players of the club, Messrs. Ranken, Foster, Anthony, Linton, Gray, and Daubeny. Play commenced at 7:20, and by 11:30 all the games were finished, Mr. Steinitz winning four and losing two; but it is fair to state that one of the latter, viz., that with Mr. Daubeny, was only lost by Mr. Steinitz

7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871 having thought that he had announced Kt. to Q.B. third for his tenth move, instead of P to Q. third, and forming all his subsequent play till the seventeenth move on this supposition, when he discovered the error by its costing him the loss of a clear Rook.65 The two best games were those with Mr. Anthony and Mr. Ranken, in both of which Mr. Steinitz played the Allgaier [sic] attack…. A large number of spectators assembled to witness the blindfold play, among whom was Prince Hassan, who, we understand is a chess amateur of some strength. The onerous duty of telling and recording the moves was ably performed by Mr. Nicholson, the club’s indefatigable secretary.66

336. Steinitz–The Rev. C. E. Ranken Blindfold simul, Oxford Town Hall (1), 10 November 1870 Kieseritzky Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 247); C.P.Q.C. (February 1871), pages 212– 213.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Nh5 9. Nc3 Rg8 A novelty; 9. … Qe7 was usual. The Chronicle article said: “Mr. Ranken tried a new move in the defence, which we should like to see analysed. He did not, however, properly follow it up, and, though winning a piece, soon got a hopeless position, owing to the boldness and vigour of his clever adversary’s tactics.” 10. Qd3 Rg7 11. Ne2 Qe7? Better 11. … Qf6. 12. N×f4 N×f4 13. B×f4 f6 14. 0–0–0 f×e5 15. d×e5 Bc5 16. d6 Qd8 17. Bh6 Rg6 18. Qd5 Be6 19. Q×c5 Nd7 20. d×c7 N×c5 Not 20. … Qc8? 21. R×d7. 21. c×d8Q† R×d8 22. R×d8† K×d8 23. B×e6 R×e6 24. Bf4 Ke7 25. Rd1 Ra6 26. a3 Ke6 27. Rd4 Rc6 28. Kd2 Rc7 29. g3 Rd7 30. R×d7 N×d7 31. Ke3 Kd5 32. b3 b5 33. c4† b×c4 34. b×c4† K×c4 35. e6 Nf6 36. Bg5 Ne8 37. Ke4 h5 38. Ke5 1–0

337. Steinitz–W. E. Foster Blindfold simul, Oxford Town Hall (2), 10 November 1870 King’s Gambit (C25) Notes and score from The Oxford Review, 27 January 1886. The opponent, William Erskine Foster, was at University College from 1867 to 1872. After graduation, he qualified as a barrister at the Inner Temple in 1874 and had a distinguished legal career.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 e×f4 4. Nf3 Nf6 “Bad. He thereby hurries the attack.” 5. e5 Qe7 6. Qe2 Nh5 7. Nd5 Qd8 8. d4 c6 9. N×f4 N×f4 10. B×f4 Bb6 11. Bg5 Qc7 12. Qe4 Na6 13. c3 0–0 14. Bd3 g6 15. Bf6 Qb8 “Black is in a hopeless block.” 16. Qf4 Nc7 17. Qh6 Ne8 18. Ng5 N×f6 19. e×f6 Re8† 20. Kd1 1–0

338. Steinitz–E. Anthony Blindfold simul, Oxford Town Hall (3), 10 November 1870 Kieseritzky Gambit (C39) Score from The Oxford Review, 10 June 1885, page 368. The C.P.Q.C. (1870/71), page 219, said “Mr. Anthony won his game in good style, having succeeded in early wresting the attack from his opponent.”

195

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Nh5 9. Nc3 0–0 10. Ne2 Qf6 11. 0–0 Q×h4 12. N×f4 Ng3 13. Re1 h5 14. Bd3 Nd7 15. Nc4 Be7 16. Ne3 Nf6 17. c4 Qh1† 18. Kf2 Nfe4† 19. B×e4 N×e4† 20. Ke2 Qh4 21. Nf1 Bb4 22. Be3 g3 23. Qb3 B×e1 24. R×e1 Qg4† 25. Kd3 Bf5 26. Qa3 Rfe8 27. Kc2 Nd6† 28. Kb3 R×e3† 29. R×e3 Q×f4 30. Rf3 Q×d4 31. R×g3† Kh7 0–1

339. Steinitz–E. F. Linton Blindfold simul, Oxford Town Hall (4), 11 November 1870 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Score from The Oxford Review, 27 April 1887. Edward Francis Linton (University College) matriculated in 1866, aged 18, and graduated in 1871; he was later ordained.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nc6 5. Bb5 Bd7 6. d3 a6 7. Ba4 Nd4 8. f×e5 N×f3† 9. Q×f3 d×e5 10. Qg3 B×a4 11. Q×e5† Be7 12. N×a4 f6 13. Qe6 Qd6 14. Qg4 g6 15. Nc3 c6 16. Be3 Bf8 17. 0–0–0 Bh6 18. Rhe1 B×e3† 19. R×e3 Qc7 20. d4 Ne7 21. d5 c×d5 22. e×d5 Rd8 23. d6 R×d6 24. Nd5 Qd8 25. R×e7† Kf8 26. R×b7 Rg8 27. Qb4 Rg7 28. Rb8 Rgd7 29. R×d8† R×d8 30. N×f6 1–0

Quiet Year in 1871 The year 1871 was fallow for Steinitz. The war between France and Germany limited opportunities. Rosenthal, the Polish master and journalist, came as a refugee from Paris to Britain for an extended period, touring clubs and playing matches with Wisker and Skipworth. (Perhaps he considered Steinitz “a bridge too far” or else backers were unavailable.) Later in the year Blackburne made the first of his extensive provincial tours; all this rival activity certainly would have limited Steinitz’s appeal as a professional for club engagements. The census of 1871 shows Steinitz was living with Caroline and Flora at an address very close to the imposing Bank of England fortress, which was the model for Gringott’s in the Harry Potter stories. They were registered at 2 Princes Street, St Giles without Cripplegate. London has several Princes Streets but the parish name identifies the right one. Although St. Giles church was beyond the City walls (hence “without Cripplegate”) part of the parish including Princes Street is within the City boundaries.67 Princes Street runs north-west beside the Bank; numbers 1–2 today is a 1930s commercial building. Only a few yards away is the start of Threadneedle Street, and just across from the Bank is the Royal Exchange and the street known as Cornhill, running roughly eastwards.68 The census was taken on the night of 2 April 1871. The record shows that 2 Princes Street was then shared by several households. William Steinitz was listed as aged 33 (off by one year) and his occupation was stated as professor of chess.

196

Steinitz in London

His birthplace was listed as “Prog, Bohemia, Austria.” With him were Caroline Steinitz (age 25), Professor’s wife, born Bethnal Green, Middlesex, and their child: Flora Steinitz (daughter, age 4), Born Middlesex, St. Luke’s. Finding such suitable accommodation, so close to Purssell’s and much more convenient for Simpson’s than his former address to the north was probably difficult, and this was not just a budgetary issue. The development of the suburban railroad network made it increasingly possible for landlords to displace workers out of the City, and (even by 1862 when Steinitz first arrived) the City’s residential population was shrinking. More and more office buildings replaced private homes, which may explain why Steinitz, when he did find this apartment in the heart of City, later had to move further away again. A census is only a snapshot and there is no indication of how long he lived in Princes Street. It might have been several years or only a few months, but certainly he must have been unhappy to have to leave.

340. Steinitz–P. M. Hirschfeld Simpson’s Divan, July or early August 1871 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 250) says played at Simpson’s Divan in August 1871; the primary source was The Field, XXXVIII (12 August 1871) page 146. This is game 247 in the Renette and Zavatarelli book about Neumann, Hirschfeld and Suhle (page 125).

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nc3 Nf6 3.  f4 d5 4.  d3 d×e4 5.  f×e5 Ng4 6. N×e4 N×e5 7. d4 Nec6 8. Nf3 Bg4 9. c3 Qe7 10. Bd3 f5 11.  0–0 f×e4 12.  B×e4 Qd7 13.  Qb3 Na5 14.  Qc2 B×f3 15. R×f3 Be7 16. B×h7 Bf6 17. Qg6† Qf7 18. Qf5 B×d4† 19. c×d4 Q×f5 20. B×f5 Nbc6 21. Bg6† Ke7 22. Rf7† Ke6 23. Bd2 Nc4 24. Re1† Kd5 25. Rf5† Kd6 26. Bf4† Kd7 27. Rf7† Kc8 28. Bf5† Kb8 29. B×c7 mate (1–0). Steinitz played the next four games against Sich, a fairly strong amateur who also played several published games against Löwenthal in 1873 and 1874, four of which appeared in Land and Water. Neither of those masters conceded odds to him. In the early 1860s Sich was active in the St. James’s Chess Club but he also became a member of the St. George’s Club.69 However (at this period in his career) Steinitz probably visited the latter only when invited by a member. All these games with Sich were said to have been played at the Divan, and were dated.

341. Steinitz–A. Sich Simpson’s Divan, 30 August 1871 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 252) from The Field, XXXVIII (14 October 1871), page 335.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nf6 5. Bc4 c6 6. d3 Nbd7 7. Ng5 0–0 8. f5 b5 9. Bb3 a5 10. a3 Qb6 11. h4 Ba6

12. Qf3 a4 13. Ba2 b4 14. N×a4 Qb5 15. a×b4 B×b4† 16. c3 d5 17. Bb1 Nc5 18. N×c5 B×c5 19. Bc2 Bb7 20. Rb1 Ra2 21.  Nh3 h5 22.  Nf2 Rd8 23.  Bg5 B×f2† 24.  K×f2 d×e4 25. d×e4 R×b2 26. Kg3 Rd6 27. Rhd1 R×d1 28. R×d1 Ng4 29. Rd2 Qb6 30. Qd1 f6 31. Rd8† Kh7 32. Qd7 Qc5 33. Qe8 Q×c3† 34. Rd3 Qe1† 35. Kh3 Nf2† 36. Kg3 N×d3† 37. Kh3 Nf2† 38. Kg3 Ng4† 39. Kh3 Qc3† 40. g3 Nf2† 41. Kg2 Qc5 42. B×f6 g×f6 43. Qg6† Kh8 44. Q×f6† Kg8 45. Qg6† Kf8 46.  f6 Ng4 47.  Qg7† Ke8 48.  f7† Kd8 49.  f8Q† Q×f8 50. Q×f8† Kc7 51. Qf7† Kb6 52. Kg1 Ba6 53. Q×h5 Be2 54. Qf7 Kc5 55. Qa7† Kc4 56. Qa4† Kc3 57. Bd1 B×d1 58. Q×d1 Rg2† 59. K×g2 Ne3† 60. Kf3 N×d1 61. h5 1–0

342. Steinitz–A. Sich Simpson’s Divan, 28 August 1871 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 251) from The Field, XXXVIII (9 September 1871), page 218.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nf6 5. Bc4 c6 6. d3 Nbd7 7. Qe2 b5 8. Bb3 a5 9. a4 b4 10. Nd1 Qb6 11. Ne3 e×f4 12. Nc4 Qc7 13. d4 0–0 14. d×c5 d5 15. Nb6 Ba6 16. N×a8 R×a8 17. Qd2 Re8 18. Kd1 N×e4 19. Qd4 Nd×c5 20. Re1 N×b3 21. c×b3 c5 22. Qd2 c4 23. Qc2 g5 24. N×g5 Qd7 25. N×e4 d×e4† 26. Qd2 Qg4† 27. Qe2 f3 28. g×f3 Rd8† 29. Bd2 e×f3 30. Qf2 c3 31. b×c3 b×c3 32. Ra2 Be2† 33. Kc1 c×d2† 34. R×d2 Rc8† 35. Kb2 Qb4 36. Rg1† Kf8 37. Qe3 Qh4 38. Qe5 Qh3 39. Qd6† Ke8 40. Rg8 mate (1–0).

343. A. Sich–Steinitz Simpson’s Divan, 7 September 1871 Ruy Lopez (C60) Bachmann (game 253) from The Field, XXXVIII (7 October 1871).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nge7 4. Nc3 g6 5. d3 Bg7 6. 0–0 0–0 7. Ng5 h6 8. Nf3 d6 9. h3 f5 10. e×f5 N×f5 11.  Nd5 Ncd4 12.  N×d4 N×d4 13.  Bc4 Kh7 14.  c3 Ne6 15. Ne3 Nf4 16. Ng4 h5 17. Nh2 d5 18. Bb3 c6 19. B×f4 R×f4 20. Qe2 Qd6 21. Nf3 Bd7 22. Rae1 Re8 23. g3 R×f3 24. Q×f3 B×h3 25. Kh2 Rf8 26. Qe2 Qd7 27. Rg1 Bg4 28. Qe3 Rf3 29.  Q×a7 R×d3 30.  a4 Rd2 31.  Bd1 d4 32.  B×g4 Q×g4 33. Rg2 e4 34. c×d4 h4 35. g×h4 Q×h4† 36. Kg1 e3 0–1

344. Steinitz–A. Sich Simpson’s Divan, 19 September 1871 King’s Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 254) from The Field, XXXVIII (30 September 1871), page 286.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Bg7 6. d4 Nf6 7. Bc4 0–0 8. Nc3 d6 9. N×f7 R×f7 10. B×f7† K×f7 11. B×f4 Nh5 12.  Bg5 Qe8 13.  0–0† Kg8 14.  Nd5 Na6 15.  a3 c6 16. Ne7† Kh8 17. N×c8 R×c8 18. Q×g4 c5 19. d5 Rc7 20. e5 B×e5 21. Rae1 Rg7 22. R×e5 d×e5 23. Q×h5 Nc7 24. d6 R×g5 25. Q×e8† N×e8 26. d7 1–0

7. Difficult Years, 1868–1871

345. Steinitz–J. I. Minchin and C. C. Minchin Consultation game, London, 6 and 8 September 1871 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 255); The Field, XXXVIII (23 September 1871), page 264.

Correct your database! This game was played in two sessions on 6 and 8 September and Steinitz played solo, while his consulting opponents were James Innes Minchin (1825– 1903) and his brother Major (later Colonel) Charles Cherry Minchin (1830?–1899). Bachmann erroneously said that the opponents were J. I. Minchin and Major Martin, while Pickard (game 977) has “Steinitz v Allies” (a form he uses for most consultation games where the opponents were not masters). Pickard’s database has “Minchin and Martin.” ChessBase has Steinitz versus J. I. Minchin, “GBR tour simul,” so is wrong on two counts. The venue is uncertain but both Minchins were members of the St. George’s Club. 1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 Qh4† 5. Ke2 d6 6. Nf3 Bg4 7. B×f4 B×f3† 8. g×f3 Nf6 9. Bg3 Qh5 10. Kf2 0–0–0 11. Be2 Qa5 12. d5 Ne5 13. f4 Ng6 14. Qd3 h5 15. h4 Be7 16. b4 Qb6† 17. Kf3 Ng4 18. Rab1 Bf6 19. a4 a6 20. Rb3 N×h4† 21. R×h4 B×h4 22. Kg2 B×g3 23. Q×g3 Ne3† 24. Kh3 h4 25. Qf3 N×c2 26. a5 Qg1 27. Rb1 Qe3 28. Q×e3 N×e3 29. b5 a×b5 30. N×b5 Rde8 31. Rc1 Kb8 32. Bf3 Re7 33. a6 b×a6 34. Nd4 Kc8 35. Rc3 Nf1 36. Rb3 g6 37. Nc6 Ree8 38. e5 d×e5 39. f×e5 Ng3 40. e6 f×e6 41. d×e6 R×e6 42. Rb8† Kd7 43. R×h8 R×c6 44. B×c6† K×c6 45. K×h4 Nf5† 46. Kg5 Nd6 47. K×g6 Kb6 48. Kf6 c5 49. Ke6 Nb7 50. Kd5 ½–½

346. Amateur–Steinitz Queen’s rook + move odds, London, 1871 Remove White’s queen’s rook Bachmann (game 248); W.P., IV (April 1872), page 213: “In the following little skirmish, Mr. Steinitz gives the odds of his Queen’s Rook and move.”

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1. e4 e5 2. d3 Bc5 3. Be3 B×e3 4. f×e3 c6 5. c3 Nf6 6. d4 N×e4 7. d×e5 Qh4† 8. Ke2 Qf2† 9. Kd3 Nc5† 10. Kc4 Nba6 11. Qe2 d6 12. Q×f2 (0–1). W.P. says Black mated in 3 moves so there is no evidence for Bachmann’s continuation 12. … d×e5 13. a4 Be6 mate.

347. Steinitz–Amateur Casual game, London, 1871 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 249); W.P. IV (April 1872), page 214: “Between Mr. Steinitz and an Amateur.”

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nc3 Nf6 3.  f4 d6 4.  Nf3 Bg4 5.  Bc4 B×f3 6. Q×f3 Be7 7. d3 Nc6 8. 0–0 Nd4 9. Qf2 Ng4 10. Qg3 h5 11. f×e5 d×e5 12. B×f7† Kd7 13. B×h5 Nf6 14. Bg4† Kc6 15. Be3 N×c2 16. Q×e5 Q×d3 17. R×f6† g×f6 18. Qe6† Qd6 19. Qc4† Qc5 20. Qa4† b5 21. Qa6† Qb6 22. B×b6 1–0

348. Steinitz–H. Eschwege Casual game, London, December 1871 Vienna Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 262) says this game was played in London during December 1871, which is probably correct since it was published in The Field, XXXIX (6 January 1872), page 21.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 g5 5. h4 Be7 6. h×g5 B×g5 7. Nf3 d6 8. g3 Bg4 9. g×f4 B×f3 10. Q×f3 N×d4 11. Qd3 Bh4† 12. Kd1 c5 13. Nd5 Bf6 14. c3 Nc6 15. Rg1 Nh6 16. Qh3 Rg8 17. Q×h6 R×g1 18. N×f6† Ke7 19. Ke1 Qf8 20. Nd5† Kd7 21. Qh3† Kd8 22. Be3 Rg6 23. f5 Rg8 24.  Rd1 b6 25.  Bf4 Kc8 26.  Ba6† Kb8 27.  Q×h7 Good enough but computers show that either 27. Qh2 or 27. f6 would mate in eight moves. 27.  … Rg1† 28.  Kf2 R×d1 29. Q×f7 Rd2† 30. Ke1 Bachmann had an incorrect finish starting 30. Ke3. 30. … Qe7 31. B×d6† Q×d6 32. Qb7 mate (1–0).

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873 These were breakthrough years for Steinitz as a player, as he became clearly recognized as the world’s number one after major tournament and match victories in 1872 and an even more important tournament success at Vienna in 1873. These achievements were all the more creditable as they were achieved against his rivals Blackburne and Zukertort who were also significantly raising the standard of opposition. Also in 1872, continuing through 1873 and into early 1874, Steinitz took the leading role in the City of London Chess Club’s correspondence match with Vienna. By the end of 1873 (the exact date is uncertain), he had also been appointed chess editor of The Field which gave him not only some financial security, for the first time in his life, but also a platform which increased his influence on the chess world.

The City of London Chess Club Handicap Steinitz’s first competition in this period was the 1871/72 Handicap tournament of the City of London Chess Club, which is of special historical interest because he won it, without even conceding one draw. Although the tournament began in late 1871, it is included here for simplicity so as not to split it between two chapters. Steinitz was by now an experienced campaigner in such tournaments, which were chiefly for amateurs (to whom he had to concede various odds according to their standard) but also included a few expert and master opponents. The format of knock-out mini-matches meant that there was always a certain element of chance. This was the first time Steinitz had played in one of the club’s handicaps. The club held a well-attended general meeting on Tuesday, 10 October at which it was formally decided to increase the weekly meetings to three, from the following week, although this involved doubling the rent they had to pay, and it was also agreed to organize the tournament.1 Land and Water for 18 November announced that arrangements were complete. The players were divided into five classes on the basis of their

known playing strength. Two wins were required to decide a pairing, draws not counting. Class I would give pawn and move to Class 2, pawn and two moves to Class Three, a knight to class IV and a rook to Class V opponents. Handicaps were proportionate for games between players in lower classes. The odds decided the colors except that pairings between players in the same class would be on even terms, alternating play between White and Black. The first round pairings were published in Land and Water on 25 November but not until 9 December in The Field. The assignments of players to classes was as follows. Steinitz was assigned to the first class, along with de Vere, Potter (winner of the 1870/71 competition), and George Gossip (another newcomer). Class II players were: Chappell, Cole, Fenton, Frankenstein, Gamman, Hoon, Hooper, Humphreys, Marks, Mundell, and Thomson. In Class III there were Argall, Baxter, Blunt, Coombe, Down, Keates, Knight, (F. W.?) Lord, Manning, Mayow, Nash, and Watson. Class IV had Clark, Godfrey, Mcleod, Ormsby, Pannell, Parr, Percival, Somers, both J. and S. Swyer, Vyse, J. Watts, Whomes, and Zappert (though The Field had “Lappert”). The remaining entrants were in Class V: Henderson, Lawson (or Lowson), Mellison, Mellor, Pizzi, Shedlock, and G. Watts.

Round 1: Steinitz Beat Lawson (Lowson?) 2–0. City of London Chess Club Handicap 1871-72 (1.1 and 1.2), November 1871

Steinitz was required to give a rook to a fifth class player named Lawson (or possibly Lowson), whose forename and even his initials are unknown.2 Steinitz did this successfully in the first week of play. On 2 December Land and Water reported that Steinitz had already won two games. The moves were not preserved; perhaps they were not even recorded at the time. The second round pairings in the City of London Chess Club Handicap tournament were published in Land and Water on 23 December 1871 but clearly had been made available earlier. Steinitz had this time to give knight odds to a player in Class IV and again won 2–0, finishing one of the games before Christmas.

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8. Big Successes, 1872–1873

349. Steinitz–S. Swyer City of London Chess Club Handicap 1871-72 (2.1), December 1871 Remove White’s queen’s knight In The Field, 23 December 1871, the opponent is named as Dr. S. Swyer; Bachmann (game 259) and Pickard incorrectly had “Snyer.” There were two players in the club named Swyer, probably brothers; J. Swyer was a first round loser.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 d6 3. Nf3 Nc6 4. c3 Bg4 5. Bc4 e×f4 6. d4 B×f3 7. Q×f3 g5 8. h4 Bh6 9. g3 Qf6 10. h×g5 B×g5 11. g×f4 Bh6 12. Be3 a6 13. 0–0–0 Nge7 14. e5 d×e5 15. d×e5 N×e5 16. R×h6 N×f3 17. R×f6 Steinitz has won back the piece and is only a pawn down with good compensation. 17. … 0–0 18. Bc5 Rae8 19. Rh6 b6 20. B×e7 R×e7 21. Bd5 Now the Black knight is trapped. 21.  … Kg7 22.  Rhh1 Ne5 23. f×e5 R×e5 24. Rdg1† Kf6 25. Rh6† Ke7 26. Bb3 Rh8 27.  Rg7 Re1† 28.  Kd2 Rf1 29.  Ke2 Rf5 30.  Rh×h7 Rf8 31. Rg3 a5 32. Rf3 Rf6 33. R×f6 K×f6 34. Rh6† Kg5 35. Rh3 f5 36.  Rh7 c5 37.  Kf3 Rf6 38.  Rg7† Kh6 39.  Rf7 R×f7 40. B×f7 Kg5 41. a4 Kf6 42. Bc4 Ke5 43. b3 f4 44. Bd3 Kd5 45. K×f4 1–0

350. Steinitz–S. Swyer City of London Chess Club Handicap 1871-72 (2.2), January 1872 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 258), from The Era, 21 January 1872. Land and Water for 3 February reported that Steinitz had won 2–0 but the second game may have been played some weeks earlier.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 d6?! 3. Nf3 Nc6 4. c3 h6 5. Bc4 Nf6 6. d3 Bg4 7. Qb3 Na5 8. B×f7† Ke7 9. Qa4 Nc6 10. Bg6 Bh5 11. Nh4 Rg8 12. B×h5 N×h5 13. Qb3 Nf6 14. Q×b7 Kd7 15. Nf3 Rb8 16. Qa6 Rb6 17. Qa4 Qc8 18. f×e5 Ra6 19. e6† K×e6 20. Qc4† Kd7 21. d4 Na5 22. Qf7† Be7 23. b4 Nb7 24.  0–0 Nd8 25.  Qb3 N×e4 The game is decided by a blunder in a difficult position where White threatens e4–e5. 26. Q×g8 Bf6 27. Re1 Qb7 28. B×h6 g×h6 29. Qh7† Kc8 30.  R×e4 d5 31.  Re8 Qc6 32.  Re3 Ra3 33.  Rae1 R×c3 34. R×c3 B×d4† 35. N×d4 Q×c3 36. Nf3 d4 37. Qe4 1–0

Round 3: Steinitz (Black) Beat Watson 2–0. City of London Chess Club Handicap 1871-72 (3.1 and 3.2), February 1872 Again the forename and initials of the opponent are unknown. Watson was named in Land and Water on 3 February 1872, page 86, when the third round pairings were published. He was a third class player, to whom Steinitz therefore gave odds of pawn and two moves. This meant that Steinitz played Black without an f-pawn, and White’s 1. e4 and 2. d4 would be on the board before Steinitz could make a move. The games were probably

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played in early February 1872 (or late January) but the moves have not been preserved.

Meanwhile, Potter won through three rounds, beating in turn Baxter, Gossip, and Down. He now had to meet Steinitz. The draw for round four was in Land and Water on 17 February, although some third round matches had not been completed. The other pairings were: Sothers versus Gamman or Keates; Cole or Ormsby versus Chappell or Thomson. Everyone else had now been eliminated.

351. Steinitz–W. N. Potter City of London Chess Club Handicap 1871-72 (4.1), February 1872 Owen’s Defense (B00) Bachmann (game 260) incorrectly had “N. Potter.” This game was in L&W, XIII (2 March 1872), pages 155–156, saying it was “one played” in the contest. Although that was not an explicit statement that this was the first game played, it seems probable. Potter was lost right out of his passive opening but Steinitz’s execution could have been more efficient.

1. e4 b6 2. d4 Bb7 3. Bd3 e6 4. Ne2 Be7 5. 0–0 Nf6 6. e5 Ng8 7. f4 f5 8. c4 Nh6 9. Nbc3 0–0 10. h3 a6 11. Be3 Kh8 12. d5 Qe8 13. Qb3 Ra7 14. d6 Bh4? 15. Nd4?! 15. g3 (L&W) is strong; 15. d×c7 Qg6 16. Nd5! e×d5 17. c×b8Q R×b8 18. c×d5 (Stockfish) is more ruthless. 15. … c5 16. Nf3 Bd8 17. a4 Nc6 18.  a5! N×a5 19.  R×a5! B×f3? Surrender. 20.  R×f3 g5 21. f×g5 Nf7 22. Bf4 b×a5 23. Qb8 B×g5 24. Q×a7 B×f4 25. R×f4 N×e5 26. Be2 Qb8 27. Q×c5 Ng6 28. Rf2 Q×b2 29. Q×a5 Qd2 30. Qa3 Rb8 31. c5 Qe3 32. Bf1 Rc8 33. Qb2 Q×c5 34. B×a6 Rf8 35. Ne4† Qe5 36. Nc5 Rf7 37. Bc8 Q×b2 38.  R×b2 Ne5 39.  Re2 Nc4 40.  R×e6 Nb6 41.  Re7 Rf6 42. B×d7 R×d6 43. B×f5 “and wins” (1–0). The following game, presumably the second against Potter, was played either before Steinitz’s brief visit to the Oxford University Chess Club in late February, discussed below, or, more likely (since his victory was not reported until 9 March), soon after his return to London. On 9 March Land and Water said that Steinitz had defeated Potter while Keates had beaten Sothers. They would now go into the final pool with either Cole or the winner of the match still in progress between Chappell and Thomson.

352. W. N. Potter–Steinitz City of London Chess Club Handicap 1871-72 (4.2), February 1872 Dutch Defense (A83) The Field, XXXIX (9 March 1872) page 229; The Era, 15 September 1872. This game is in Hooper and Pickard’s collections (though the latter misdates it 1870), but not in Bachmann and not (at the time of writing) in ChessBase’s database. On Pickard’s CD there are notes by Steinitz

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Steinitz in London

from an unknown source which refer to analysis in The Field that Steinitz said he had written “but not under my own name.”

1. d4 f5 2. e4 f×e4 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 c6 5. B×f6 e×f6 6. N×e4 Qb6! A novelty; improving on Steinitz’s play in Game 327. 7. Bd3 Steinitz said his play rested on analysis of the possibility 7.  Qe2 Q×b2 8.  Nd6† Kd8 9.  Qe8† Kc7 10. Q×c8† Kd6 11. Rd1… “but now I, as well as all the authorities who copied my analysis, went in for brilliancies, and I gave 11. … Na6 12. Q×a8 Kc7 with some further fireworks…. But I discovered 18 years afterward or later that the whole process could be shortened by … 11. … g6 threatening simply 12. … Bh6†, etc.” 7. … d5 8. Nc3 Q×b2 9. Nge2 Bd6 10. 0–0 0–0 11. Rb1 Qa3 12. Rb3 Qa5 13. Ng3 g6 14. f4 f5 15. Qf3 Nd7 16. a3 Nf6 17. Nge2 Ne4 18. Nb1 b5 19. h3 Qc7 20. g4 f×g4 21. h×g4 Ng5 22. Qg3 Ne6 Steinitz’s later notes gave the line 22. … B×f4? 23. R×f4 R×f4 24. Bf5 “and White wins in all variations,” but this is not true. Black has several ways to escape the trap. 23. Kh1 N×f4 24. N×f4 B×f4 25. Qg2 Qg7 26. Be2 Bd7 27. Rd3 Rae8 28. Rff3 R×e2 0–1 Since de Vere had lost in the second round, Steinitz was now the only master remaining in the competition. The other players in the final pool were Thomson and Keates (sometimes seen as “Keats”), a third class player who was also one of the leading members of the Bermondsey club. The games with Thomson are not preserved, but both wins against Keates were published in The Era; Steinitz’s opponent showed some ideas and put up a fight, particularly in the first game.

Final Pool. Steinitz (Black) Beat R? Thomson 2–0.3 City of London Chess Club Handicap 1871-72 final pool, April? 1872. Steinitz conceded odds of pawn and move to Thomson (because he was in Class II). The games appear not to have been preserved but Steinitz must have won two games.

353. Keates–Steinitz City of London Chess Club Handicap 1871-72 final pool, April 1872. Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 256); The Era, 19 May 1872. Steinitz conceded pawn and two moves.

1. e4 AND 2. d4 e6 3. Nf3 d5 4. e×d5 e×d5 5. Bd3 Nf6 6. Bg5 Be7 7. Nc3 0–0 8. Qd2 Nc6 9. 0–0–0 a6 10. Rde1 b5 11. h4 b4 12. Ne2 a5 13. Ng3 a4 14. Nf5 B×f5 15. B×f5 b3 16. a3 b×c2 17. B×c2 Na5 18. Qd3 g6 19. h5 Ne4 20. B×e7 Q×e7 21. h×g6 h×g6 22. Rh3 Nc4 23. Reh1 Qf6 24. Rh8† Kf7 25. Ne5† N×e5 26. R×f8† R×f8 27. d×e5 Q×e5 28. B×a4 Rb8 29. Qc2 c5 30. g3 c4 31. Rd1 Nc5 32. f4 Qe3† 33. Kb1

Nd3 34. b4 N×b4! 35. a×b4 R×b4† 36. Ka2 Qa7 37. Ka3 Qc5 38. Be8† Kf8 39. R×d5 Rb3† 0–1 The Era went on to say that: “Since the playing of this game, Steinitz has won another at the same odds, which makes him winner of the first prize. Messrs. Thomson and Keates are now playing for the second prize.” From this statement the order in which the games in the final pool were played may be deduced, albeit not with complete certainty since the following game was in the paper first. Eventually Keates (receiving pawn and move from Thomson) won second prize. Fenton and Baxter, who won the third and fourth prizes, had played in the knock-out competition for first round losers. The final result was published in The Field, 25 May 1872.

354. Keates–Steinitz City of London Chess Club Handicap 1871-72 (5.2), April 1872 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 257); annotated in The Era, 28 April 1872. Steinitz conceded pawn and two moves

1. e4 AND 2. d4 e6 3. c4 c5 4. d5 d6 5. Bd3 Nf6 6. f4 e×d5 7. c×d5 Be7 8. Nf3 0–0 9. Nc3 a6 10. 0–0 b5 11. b3 Nbd7 12. Qe1 Nb6 13. h3 Bd7 14. Be3 Rc8 15. Rc1 c4 16. b×c4 N×c4 17. B×c4 R×c4 18. Nd4 b4 19. e5 b×c3 20. e×f6 B×f6 21.  Ne2 Re8 22.  Rf3 Qa5 23.  Qd1 Rce4 24.  Kf2 R×e3 25. R×e3 Qb6 26. Qd3 Bb5 27. Rb1 Qc5 28. R×b5 a×b5 29. Kf3 R×e3† 30. Q×e3 Q×d5† 31. Kg3 Qc6 32. Kf2 d5 33. Nc1 d4 34. Qf3 Q×f3† 35. K×f3 Be7 36. Ke2 Ba3 37. Nd3 Bd6 38. g3 h5 39. h4 Kf7 40. Nf2 Ke6 41. Kd3 Kd5… And after a few more moves White resigned (0–1).

Steinitz in Oxford Again Having completed coverage of the Handicap tournament, we turn the clock back a few weeks to Steinitz’s third visit to Oxford University Chess Club. Since the university’s academic years run from October to June, this was the third successive season in which Steinitz visited the club. This time he spent only two evenings in the “city of dreaming spires,” 26–27 February, playing blindfold the first night, the Council Chamber of Oxford Town Hall being made available as before. A preview article in the Oxford Undergraduates’ Journal of 22 February (reprinted in the Oxford Times of 24 February) said that Steinitz would play the best eight opponents who could be brought against him, including two former presidents of the club (Anthony and Ranken) who were expected in Oxford specially for this occasion. The article stressed that Steinitz had previously played only six blindfold games at a time. “The Committee will be happy to see present all lovers of chess, ladies no less than gentlemen,” the paper

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873 said. The following report appeared in the Undergraduates’ Journal on 7 March, showing that eventually he had only seven opponents, but this was still a personal record and he won six of them. Seven appears to have been the greatest number of blindfold games that Steinitz ever played blindfold, which he did once in Cardiff later this year and again in Oxford in 1875. OXFORD UNIVERSITY CHESS CLUB Herr Steinitz’s Visit.—The visit of this celebrated player extended over Monday and Tuesday, Feb. 26 and 27. On the evening of the former day the Club, as on previous occasions, held a meeting, open to all lovers of chess, in the Council Chamber at the Town Hall, which the mayor had most courteously placed at their disposal. Accordingly a large number of University men, with a good sprinkling of citizens, attended during the evening and seemed to appreciate fully the wonderful accuracy and skill exhibited by the leading player of the day in the seven simultaneous games which he conducted blindfold against members of the Club. Play commenced at 7:30, the selected seven being Mr. Anthony, Ch. Ch. (ex–President); Mr. Foster (University); Mr. Gray, Brasenose (President); Mr. Wild, Ch. Ch. (ex– President); Mr. Whitefoord, New; Mr. Madan, Brasenose (Secretary); and Mr. Meredith, Brasenose. The Rev. Mr. Ranken, Wadham, the Club’s first President, and one of the most powerful amateurs in England, was to have come up to Oxford for the purpose of taking an eighth game against Herr Steinitz, but was unfortunately detained in the country by business. Against the seven gentlemen above named Herr Steinitz played respectively the Allgaier Gambit, the Queen’s Knight’s Opening (Mr. Foster replying with the King’s Gambit), the Evans Gambit, the Kieseritzky Gambit, the Queen’s Knight’s Opening, the Ponziani opening, and the King’s Bishop’s opening. At the 16th round of moves he was able to call mate in three to Mr. Gray, at the 17th he inflicted, amid much applause, smothered mate on Mr. Wild, at the 23rd he announced mate in two to Mr. Whitefoord, at the 26th Mr. Madan resigned, and, on adjourning a little past midnight, Mr. Foster, whose game had long been hopeless, and Mr. Anthony, who had given his blindfold antagonist a good deal of trouble, followed his example. On Tuesday night the seventh game was concluded in the Club’s own room at 18, Broad-street, amid rather less quiet than was desirable; this game alone Herr Steinitz resigned, but, retracting one of his moves, he played the finish over again compelling his conqueror to give in. Mr. Meredith of Brasenose, who thus defeated him, played exceedingly well throughout. The blindfold games were, as on former occasions, called and recorded by Mr. Nicholson, Trinity (ex–President). They were followed by a large number of simultaneous games in which Herr Steinitz met his previous opponents, except Mr. Wild, and several others, defeating them all with little difficulty. He also played in private with some of the strongest members of the Club during his stay, as also did an American gentleman named Osborne, who was visiting Oxford at the time, and who proved himself a trifle stronger than any of his adversaries.4

Five of the seven games from the blindfold exhibition survive, only one of which is in the standard collections; the games against Madan and Foster are missing. At this time Anthony, Foster, Gray, and Wild were all playing for Oxford in its second correspondence match against the Cambridge Staunton club; Foster, Gray, and Wild had also played in the previous one.5 Anthony, Madan, Meredith and Whitefoord

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all played in the first over the board match against Cambridge in March 1873. Madan also played in the 1874 match while Meredith played all the first four.

355. Steinitz–E. Anthony Blindfold simul, Oxford, 26 February 1872 Allgaier Gambit (C39) Score and notes in quotation marks from The Oxford Review, 8 June 1887, page 530.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ng5 h5 6. Bc4 Nh6 7. d4 b5 8. Bb3 c5 9. Bd5 “9 d×c5 followed by Qd5 looks very tempting.” 9. … Nc6 10. B×f4 Bg7 11. c3 c×d4 12. 0–0 0–0 13. Bd6 Qb6 14. e5 “It seems better to move the King at once. 14. B×f8 is by no means the worst move at this juncture.” 14. … d3† “14. … d×c3† was bound to score a piece for Black.” 15. Kh1 Qe3 16. Na3 “16 B×f8 is the move.” 16.  … Ba6 17.  Nc2 Qg3 18.  Qe1 B×e5 19.  B×e5 Q×e1 20. Ra×e1 N×e5 “A bad move. 20. … d×c2 is safe and leaves Black with a trifle to the good.” 21. B×a8 R×a8 22. Nb4 Re8 23.  N×a6 d2 24.  Re2 Nf5 25.  R×d2 Ng3† 26.  Kg1 Nc4 27.  Rdf2 The Review just says “R to KB2.” 27.  … Ne2† 28. Kh1 Ng3† 29. Kh2 Ne2 “29. … N×f1† 30. R×f1 followed by 30. … Re2 is the most decisive continuation. This is his best chance.” 30. R×f7 Nd2 31. R1f6 The source just says “R to B6” but if it was the other rook Black’s 32nd move would just put the knight en prise. 31. … g3† 32. Kh3 Ng1† 33. K×g3 Ne4† 34. Kh2 N×f6 35. R×f6 The Review says “He should have taken with the Kt, but it is to be remembered that he is playing blindfold.” There is no capture with the Kt, probably 35. K×g1 was meant. 35. … Ne2 36. Nc5 1–0

356. Steinitz–R. D. H. Gray Blindfold simul, Oxford, 26 February 1872 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann (game 305), from The Field of 16 March 1872. This game was reprinted in The Oxford Review on 23 February 1887 and in Lopez Esnaola’s book on blindfold chess, page 149. Bachmann names the opponent as “Grand” in the game header but “Gray” above the diagram on page 317 in the second edition. Robert Daniel Horace Gray was the president of the university chess club this term. (During this period, the office was rotated so that as many students as possible could have the honor and the duties.) According to Alumni Oxoniensis, he was the eldest son of a Lancashire clergyman and later became a vicar himself. Gray matriculated at Brasenose College on 13 June 1867, aged 17, and took his BA in 1871. He never played in the university match against Cambridge over the board because that series was begun only after he had graduated.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d×c3 8. Qb3 Qe7 This is an unpopular move, although no clear refutation has been shown. It was the choice

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Steinitz in London

of GM Reuben Fine in his loss to Fischer, annotated in the latter’s My Sixty Memorable Games. 9. N×c3 For 9. Ba3 see Game 15; the more mature Steinitz just develops, not forcing matters. 9. … B×c3 Fine played 9. … Nf6 against Fischer; the critical move is 9. … Qb4 as in R. Hartoch–J. Eslon, Netherlands–Sweden telephone match 1976. 10. Q×c3 f6 11. Ba3 d6 12. Bd5 Bd7 13. Rfe1 Fischer suggested 13. Rab1 which may be more precise; then if 13. … 0–0–0 14. Nd4 “is crushing.” 13. … 0–0–0 14. Rab1 Be6? 14. … Qe8 with the idea …Nge7 or …b6 was suggested in the Latvian magazine Sahs, 1970. 15. R×b7! K×b7 15. … B×d5 16. e×d5 Q×e1† 17. N×e1 K×b7 18. d×c6†. Now the Oxford Review says Steinitz announced mate in three moves: 16. Q×c6† Kc8 17. Qa6† Kd7 18. Bc6 mate (1–0).

357. Steinitz–C. T. Wild Blindfold simul, Oxford, 26 February 1872 Kieseritzky Gambit (C39) Score and notes from The Oxford Review, 23 February 1887, page 319.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 h5 “5. … Bg7 is perhaps the best defence, and is recommended by most authorities.” 6. Bc4 Nh6 7. d4 d6 8. Nd3 Nc6 9. N×f4 a6 10. Nc3 Bg7 11. Be3 Ng8 “A loss of time.” 12. g3 Nge7 13. 0–0 f5 14. Nfd5 b5 “He should have taken the Knight before attacking the Bishop and have followed up by R to KB sq.” 15. Bb3 Na5 16. Bg5 Bf8 “A palpable oversight. Still defeat was none the less certain.” 17. Nf6 mate (1–0).

Samuel Readhead Meredith (Brasenose College) matriculated in 1870, aged 20, and took his B.A. in 1874 but continued to play chess for the university up to the match against Cambridge in 1876.

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Nf6 “This is the defence highly approved of by Jaenisch, and the writer of the German handbook, who consider it so powerful a retort, as to win from White at once the advantage of the move.” 3. f4 Nc6 “3. … d5 is generally considered best.” 4. d3 Bc5 5. Nf3 d6 6. c3 Qe7 7. Qe2 h6 8. a4 a5 (The Review has “QB to R3” but in view of move 15 this must be right.) 9. Na3 0–0 10. f5 Rd8 11. Nc2 d5 12. Bb3 d×e4 13. d×e4 Ng4 (The Review has wrongly “QKt to K5.”) 14. Ne3 N×e3 15. B×e3 b6 16. Bd5 Ba6 17. Qf2 Rd6 “Black is now very strong.” 18. B×c5 b×c5 19. Q×c5 Rad8 20. 0–0–0 “Why not take the Kt?” 20. … Be2 21. Rd2 B×f3 22. g×f3 Qg5 23. Kc2 Ne7 24. Rg1 Qf4 25. Rdg2 “Useless.” 25. … N×d5 26. R×g7† Kf8 27. e×d5 Q×f5† 28. Kb3 Qd7 29. c4 Rc8 30. Qe3 Rb6† 31. Kc2 Q×a4† 32. Kb1 Re8 33. Qc5† Rd6 34. Q×c7 Qd7 35. Q×a5 “It is to White’s manifest advantage to change. He is already a pawn ahead, and by exchanging Queens and one Rook he gains another. We can only suppose it is a case of qui Deus vult perdere, etc.”6 35. … Qf5† 36. Ka2 Qc8 37. Qb4 Qa6† 38. Kb3 Rc8 “Black can, of course, win the Queen with …Rb6, but his victory is already assured.” 39. c5 Qd3† … “and Mr. Meredith won” (0–1).

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 g5 5. h4 d6 6. h×g5 Q×g5 7. Nf3 Qg3† 8. Ke2 Bh6 “8. … Nh6 would have been much better, and might have given Black a good attack with Kt to Kt5.” 9. Nd5 Kd8 10. R×h6 “Which leads to a crushing and resistless attack.” 10. … N×h6 11. B×f4 Qg7 12. Bg5† Ke8 “12. … Kd7 would have resulted in the loss of the Queen (forced) or mate.” 13. N×c7† Kd7 14. N×a8 Re8 15. Kf2 R×e4 16. Bd3 Rg4 17. Qd2 Qg8 “An exceedingly tame move, the raison d’être of which would be difficult to explain.” 18. d5 Ne5 19. Bb5† Nc6 20. Rd1 Ke8 21. d×c6 R×g5 22. c×b7† Bd7 “and Herr Steinitz announced mate in two moves” (1–0).

As the above report states, on the second evening, at the club rooms in Broad Street, Steinitz completed the blindfold game with Meredith, and then played a simultaneous exhibition against club members. The line saying that “he also played in private with some of the strongest members of the Club during his stay” may help to clarify the mystery about the two following Evans Gambit games (360 and 361), which we believe Steinitz played against the club’s president, either on this occasion, or perhaps in London just before or after Steinitz’s visit. It is unknown where Bachmann found them but it is likely he got some details wrong. He said both games were played at Simpson’s Divan, on dates he specifies, but as has been shown, he often had incorrect dates. Moreover he names Steinitz’s opponent as “Grand.” No such English amateur player of note can be found in the usual sources; it could be a confusion with “Grand Divan” and the opponent was Gray from Oxford. That Bachmann definitely made this confusion is clear from what was said about Game 356 above. It is plausible that Gray may have met Steinitz at Simpson’s on two separate occasions, but surely more likely that they played these games in Oxford.

359. Steinitz–S. R. Meredith

360. R. D. H. Gray?–Steinitz

Blindfold simul, Oxford, 26 February 1872 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Notes and score from The Oxford Review, 17 February 1886.

Oxford or London, 1872 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann (game 304, page 325 in the first edition, page 304

358. Steinitz–B. Whitefoord Blindfold simul, Oxford, 26 February 1872 Vienna Gambit (C25) Score and notes from The Oxford Review, 11 May 1887, page 448. The Rev. Benjamin Whitefoord matriculated in 1869 at the age of 20 but was attached to no college then, so probably began theological study before he joined New College in 1871. He graduated in 1874.

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873 in his 2d edition), dates this game 23 February 1872 at Simpson’s.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d×c3 8. Qb3 Qf6 9. Bg5 Qg6 10. e5 b5 11. Bd5 b4 12.  Re1 h6 13.  e6 f×e6 14.  Bh4 Rb8 15.  B×c6 d×c6 16. N×c3 Bb6 17. Rad1 Nf6 18. R×e6† B×e6 19. Q×e6† Kf8 20.  Ne5 Qe8 21.  Qf5 Qh5 22.  Nd7† Kf7 23.  Ne5† Kg8 24. Qe6† Kh7 25. B×f6 b×c3 26. Rd7 Rhg8 27. g4 c2 28. Qc4 B×f2† 29. Kg2 Q×e5 30. Q×c2† Kh8 31. B×e5 1–0

361. R. D. H. Gray?–Steinitz Oxford or London, 1872 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann (game 306) dated the game 27 March 1872 and says it was played at Simpson’s but most likely it was in the same sitting as game 360. Having failed with the Compromised Defense, Steinitz switched to a less well known line and won.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d3 8. e5 Nge7 9. B×d3 d6 10. e×d6 Q×d6 11. Qc2 Be6 12. Ba3 Qf4 13. Bc1 Qg4 14. Re1 0–0–0 15. Re4 Qh5 16.  Rh4 Qd5 17.  Nd4 Nf5 18.  B×f5 B×f5 19.  Qe2 Rde8 20. Be3 g5 21. Rg4 B×g4 22. Q×g4† f5 23. Qh3 g4 24. Qh5 N×d4 25. c×d4 Q×d4 26. Q×f5† Kb8 0–1

British Chess Association Congress 1872 Wisker, the British Champion, had taken over as secretary of the B.C.A. during 1871; although Löwenthal was probably still active as manager.7 Its 1872 Congress was the last major achievement of the first B.C.A. but arrangements left a lot to be desired. Lessons had not been learned from the BadenBaden 1870 system, or even Dundee 1867, of having set rounds with all games played together at a single venue and the old English preference for replaying drawn games persisted. This, together with the fact that there were three separate tournaments—with several players involved in two of them—meant that scheduling of games was difficult and the duration of the whole event uncertain. Blackburne, de Vere, MacDonnell, and Wisker entered both the main tournaments, which were run on the all-play-all system, while the Handicap, as usual, was a knockout event. In this Congress, MacDonnell played under the pseudonym “Mr. Hiber” (i.e., Hibernian, meaning an Irishman) due to the unfavorable publicity resulting from a court case following his officiating at the marriage of a divorcee.8 Steinitz, as a foreigner, was ineligible to compete in the Challenge Cup, now being held for the fourth time, to decide the British Champion, but the Grand Tourney was open to

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the world, as also was the Handicap tournament. Steinitz’s victory in these competitions was not a foregone conclusion because he would have to contend with Zukertort who had just arrived from Germany. The presence of these two gave the Grand Tourney the status of a minor international event, comparable in strength to Dundee because the field also included some weaker players. One player withdrew before the end. As it happened, Steinitz was paired with Zukertort in only the second round of the Handicap, and lost to him after two draws. At least this left Steinitz free to concentrate on the Grand Tourney, which he dominated, and made the prospect of a match between the two after the Congress much more interesting. Games, as in the previous B.C.A. tournaments held in London, were played at the three main metropolitan chess clubs then in existence or, in some cases, at Simpson’s Divan. The players had to arrange their games, probably only a few days in advance. In addition to the tournaments, three days of public chess exhibitions (on 18–20 July) were organized in the Opera House of the Crystal Palace, which had been moved to Sydenham, south of the Thames, three years after the Great Exhibition. The events there were run jointly by the B.C.A. and the Crystal Palace Company which managed that attraction. Those dates were set aside for special events; tournament games were not played there. No official congress book or Transactions volume was published. Consequently, several games were not preserved, and those that survive were scattered through a variety of chess columns and magazines, in many cases with imperfect information about when (or even, sometimes, whether) they were played. Reconstructing the tournament is peculiarly difficult but Tony Gillam has made a great effort to do so and collected the games in a small book (hereafter cited as Gillam72) that also includes a minor German tournament from the same year.9 The dates of four of Steinitz’s five main games in the Grand Tourney are known, but not of his meetings in the Handicap; those games are placed after the main event, though this is probably not chronologically accurate. The following is a tentative timetable for the early weeks of the Congress, after which (as in 1862 and 1869) it dragged on into August until the final games were completed.

First Week Friday, 21 June: The Congress began with a preliminary meeting chaired by Captain Kennedy in the chair, in the absence of B.C.A. President Lord Lyttelton. The committee’s original proposal of a time limit of 20 moves in an hour (as at Baden-Baden) was altered, after a vote of the players, to the more leisurely 30 moves in two hours. Steinitz would have been happy to have more time and Blackburne would have preferred the faster rate. Saturday, 22 June: Wisker and Zukertort played a friendly

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Steinitz in London

game at the Westminster Club, which the former won. Zukertort had probably only arrived in England a few days previously; this was said to be the first serious game he played in England.10 Monday, 24 June: Tournament play began at the St. George’s and Westminster Clubs. Steinitz may well have played his first game the same day, but the Westminster Papers for July lists the results they knew of up to the 27th and there are none for him. That is inconclusive because the list omits Zukertort’s win over Gossip, in the Grand Tourney, which they published a few pages later and said was the opening game at the St. George’s. Steinitz probably wanted to watch Zukertort in action, to get the measure of him, and to see how other main rivals performed at the start. Also he disposed of Fenton, his first opponent in the Handicap; their game was definitely played in time for publication in The Field on Saturday. Tuesday, 26 June (probable): Zukertort beat Wisker; Martin drew with Blackburne (and probably lost the replay to him on Saturday). Wednesday, 26 June: Blackburne beat Zukertort. Thursday, 27 June: De Vere drew with Zukertort. In the Challenge Cup, Blackburne beat Owen. Other known results in the Grand Tourney up to 27 June: MacDonnell and Wisker drew with Martin. Some results in the Challenge Cup and Handicap tournaments may be found on page 35 in the July Westminster Papers. Friday, 28 June: De Vere beat Blackburne in the Grand Tourney; Wisker beat MacDonnell in the Challenge Cup.

Tuesday, 2 July: In the same event, Blackburne lost to J. I. Minchin and MacDonnell beat Owen. Steinitz beat Wisker in Game 363 below. Wednesday, 3 July: Zukertort beat de Vere. Blackburne beat A. G. Puller in the Challenge Cup. Thursday, 4 July: Owen lost to de Vere (Challenge Cup). A report in the Morning Post on Friday, 5 July listed results to the previous day, but may not have been up to date: In the Grand Tourney…. Major Martin has lost six games, and has not yet played with De Vere. Gossip has won from Major Martin, and lost to Zukertort. Steinitz has won from Major Martin and drawn with Herr Zukertort, with whom he must play again.11 Wisker has won from Major Martin and lost to Zukertort. Herr Zukertort has won from Major Martin, Gossip, Wisker, and De Vere, having first drawn a game with the latter; he has lost to Blackburne and has to play again with Steinitz. De Vere has won from Gossip and Blackburne, and lost to Zukertort. Blackburne has won from Major Martin and Zukertort, and lost to De Vere. Hiber has won from Major Martin and Gossip. The contest for the Challenge Cup is tolerably far advanced…. A Handicap Tourney is also in progress, and the playing is likely to continue for several days yet.

Friday, 5 July: No definite results. Saturday, 6 July: Steinitz beat Zukertort; Blackburne drew with Wisker in the Challenge Cup.

363. J. Wisker–Steinitz B.C.A. Grand Tourney, London, 2 July 1872 English Opening (A15) Bachmann (game 282); L&W, XIV (27 July 1872), page 59; The Era, 4 August 1872, and D.S.Z. 1872, pages 250–252.

MOVES MISSING; there are no details except that Steinitz won. Leading contenders generally aimed to dispose of the lesser rivals first in the B.C.A. tournaments. In view of Martin’s other games mentioned above, and the fact that this result was stated in The Field on 6 July, this was probably also played on the first Friday. In addition, Steinitz soon scored against G. H. D. Gossip, almost certainly without having to play him. According to Gillam72, Gossip withdrew after three games: a win against Major Martin and losses to Zukertort and MacDonnell. Of those, only the Zukertort game is preserved.

1. c4 e6 2. g3 Nf6 3. e3 d5 4. Bg2 d×c4 5. Qa4† c6 6. Q×c4 e5 7. Qb3 Na6 8. Nc3 Nc5 9. Qc2 Nd3† 10. Kf1 Ng4 11. Nd1 f5 12. Ne2 e4 13. b3 Be7 14. h3 Nge5 15. Bb2 0–0 16. B×e5 N×e5 17. Nb2 Bf6 18. Rd1 Nf7 19. d4 Nd6 20. Nc4 Kh8 21. h4 Qe7 22. Nf4 Bd7 23. N×d6 Q×d6 24. g4 Rae8 25. g5 Bd8 26. Ke2 c5 27. Kf1 c×d4 28. R×d4 Qe7 29. Kg1 Bc6 30. Rh3 Qe5 31. Rg3 Bb6 32. Rd1 Rd8 33. h5 R×d1† 34. Q×d1 Rd8 35. Qc1 Bc7 L&W: “At this point Mr. Steinitz offered to draw the game, and we are surprised that his opponent did not accept the proposal, as the situation is certainly in favour of Black.” 36. Rh3 Qe7 37. Qc4 Rd1† 38. Kh2 Q×g5 39. Qf7 Bd6 L&W: “All the latter part of this game is admirably played by Mr. Steinitz.” 40. h6 B×f4† 41. e×f4 Q×f4† 42. Rg3 Q×h6† 43. Bh3 Qf6 44. Qh5 Rd5 45. Rg5 g6 46. Qh6 Qd6† Pickard stopped here. 47. Kg2 e3 0–1

Second Week

364. Steinitz–J. H. Zukertort

362. Steinitz–Major W. Martin B.C.A. Grand Tourney, London, 28? June 1872

1–0

Steinitz had played his first draw with Zukertort in the Handicap tournament by Thursday. This may have been either towards the end of the first week or on either 1 or 4 July. Monday, 1 July: No definite results this day, but games in the Challenge Cup probably included Puller’s draw with Wisker and a win for Blackburne against Major Minchin.

B.C.A. Grand Tourney, St. George’s Chess Club, 6 July 1872 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 283); L&W, 14 June 1873; game 8 in Pritchett’s book on Steinitz, starting on page 64, where it is annotated in depth. The finish as usually stated makes little sense and one may well prefer Land and Water’s version. Some sources (e.g., the Morning Post, 5 July) say

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873 that there was previously a drawn game between these players in the tournament, but no such game score survives. This probably arose from a confusion with the Handicap tournament.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 Qh4† In their 1886 World Championship match, when close to victory, Steinitz played his gambit in the 20th and final game. Zukertort had prepared 4. … d5 but it was only a transposition to the line that follows. 5. Ke2 d5 This was Zukertort’s first opportunity to try to refute Steinitz’s Gambit, which he had analyzed in a detailed article for N.B.S.Z., VIII (January, February and March 1871), starting on page 8. So although Steinitz had not previously met 5. … d5 in a competitive game, he was undoubtedly prepared for it.12 6. e×d5 Bg4†!? Chigorin preferred 6. … Qe7† at London 1883 (Game 543.) 7. Nf3 0–0–0 8. d×c6 Bc5 9. c×b7† For 9. Qe1 (Steinitz’s last try) see Game 596. 9. … Kb8 10. Nb5 Nf6 11. Kd3 This was probably prepared by Steinitz for the game. In the third part of his article (March 1871) page 72, Zukertort had considered only 11. c3 B×f3† 12. g×f3 Rhe8† 13. Kd3 Re1 14. Qc2 Qh5 “and the White position is not to be held,” but Stockfish defends this comfortably. 11. … Qh5 12. Kc3?! Provocative; 12. c3 was called for. This was analyzed in an 1897 article “The Last of the Steinitz Gambit. The Famous Attack in the Vienna Completely Refuted in a Consultation Game.”13 Computers find some improvements for White but some insane complications can arise where White attacks with his king and temporarily sacrifices his queen. 12. … B×d4†? This sacrifice is far too optimistic. Zukertort might have justified his previous play by 12. … Ne4†! 13. Kb3 a6 14. Qe1 Qd5† 15. c4 (or Bc4) 15. … Q×b7 with a chaotic position. Another very dangerous try for Black is 12. … a6 as played successfully by Honegger and Raubitschek against Steinitz in the 1897 consultation game mentioned in the previous note, but Stockfish 10 defends with 13. b4 when more crazy positions arise. 13. Nb×d4 Qc5† 14. Kb3 Qb6† 15. Bb5 B×f3 16. Q×f3 R×d4 17. Qc6 Qa5 18. c3 Rd6 19. Qc4 a6 20. Ba4 Nd5 21. Ka3 g5 22. b4 Qb6 23. Qd4 Q×d4 24. c×d4 Nb6 25. Bb2 Nc4† 26. Kb3 N×b2 27. K×b2 R×d4 28. Kc3 Rhd8 29. Rad1 R4d6 30. R×d6 R×d6 31. Rd1 Rf6 32. Bc2 K×b7 33. B×h7 Kb6 34. h3 f3 35. g×f3 R×f3† 36. Rd3 Rf2 37. a4 a5 38. b×a5† K×a5 39. Rd5† Kb6 40. a5† Ka7 41. Bd3 Rf3 42. R×g5 R×h3 43. Rf5 Rh7 44. Rc5 f5 (see diagram)

wDwDwDwD iw0wDwDr wDwDwDwD )w$wDpDw wDwDwDwD DwIBDwDw wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw

After 44. … f5

205

45. B×f5 Most sources including Bachmann have the following completely different finish: 45. R×f5 Re7 46. Rg5 Rd7 47. Re5 Rg7 48. Re8 Rg1 49. Be4 Rc1† 50. Kb4 c5† 51. Kb5 but this is of doubtful authenticity. 45. … Re7 46. Bd3 Rg7 47. Kb4 Re7 48. Rd5 Rg7 49. Re5 Rg4† 50. Be4 Rg1 51. Re8 c5† 52. Kb5 1–0

Third Week Monday, 8 July: It was probably either this day or Tuesday, that Steinitz won his game with de Vere (Game 365). The result was shown in The Field the following Saturday. Tuesday, 9 July: Wisker beat Puller (Challenge Cup). This (or Monday or Wednesday) looks a plausible date for at least one of the Handicap tournament drawn games between Steinitz and Zukertort. Wednesday, 10 July: Wisker beat de Vere (Challenge Cup). Thursday, 11 July: Steinitz won Game 366 against MacDonnell. Friday, 12 July: Possibly this day Blackburne lost to de Vere in the Challenge Cup, which ended his hopes there. (That game score is lost and there is no clear account of it.) Saturday, 13 July: Steinitz beat Blackburne in the Grand Tourney (Game 367), virtually making sure of first prize and relegating Blackburne to a fight with Zukertort for second.

365. Steinitz–C. V. de Vere B.C.A. Grand Tourney, City of London Chess Club, 8 or 9? July 1872 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Bachmann (game 286); L&W, 19 October 1872 (no date stated). Gillam72 dated this 14 July but that was a Sunday and the result had already been published by then.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6 4. Bc4 Nf6 5. d3 0–0 6. Nc3 Ng4 7. Qe2 Nc6 8. f5 Kh8 9. Ng5 Nh6 10. Qh5 Nb4 11. Bb3 Bd7 12. a3 Nc6 13. N×h7 K×h7 14. Bg5 Qe8 15. f6 Rg8 16. f×g7 R×g7 17. Q×h6† Kg8 18. Nd5 1–0

366. Steinitz–The Rev. G. A. MacDonnell B.C.A. Grand Tourney, St. George’s Chess Club, 11 July 1872 Falkbeer Counter-Gambit (C31) Bachmann (game 284); L&W, XIV (10 August 1872), page 91; D.S.Z., XXVII (1872), pages 253–254.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 d5 3. e×d5 e4 4. Nc3 Nf6 5. Qe2 Bd6 6. d3 0–0 7. d×e4 N×e4 8. N×e4 Re8 9. Qf3 Bf5 10. Bd3 B×e4 11. B×e4 f5 12. Ne2 R×e4 13. 0–0 Qf6 14. Nc3 Re7 15. Be3 Nd7 16. Bf2 Rae8 17. Rad1 a6 18. Bd4 Qh6 19. Rd2 Nf6 20. Re2 Ne4 21. N×e4 R×e4 22. Be5 R×e2 23. Q×e2 B×e5 24. f×e5 Qb6† 25. Kh1 Q×b2 26. e6 Q×a2 27. Qd3 g6 28. c4 b6 29. g4 f×g4 30. Qc3 Qe2 31. Rf7 Qd1† 32. Kg2 Qe2† 33. Kg3 1–0

206

Steinitz in London

367. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz B.C.A. Grand Tourney, St. George’s Chess Club, 13 July 1872 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann (game 285); Blackburne (game 169). Primary sources: The Field, 27 July 1872; L&W, XIV (10 August 1872), page 92; The Era, 18 August 1872. This was Steinitz’s final game and decided the tournament.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d×c3 8. Qb3 Qf6 9. e5 Qg6 10. N×c3 Nge7 11. Ne2 b5 12. Bd3 Qe6 13. Qb2 Bachmann has 13. Qc2 but all the primary sources give 13. Qb2, which protects the epawn. 13. … Ng6 14. Bf4?! 0–0 15. Rac1 a6 16. Rfd1 Bb6 Following The Field and The Era; instead L&W, and also D.S.Z., XXVII (1872), page 252, and Bachmann, have Bb7 first. 17. Bg3 Bb7 18. Be4 Rae8 19. Qb1 From here all the versions coincide. 19. … Qe7? This move costs Black most of his advantage. 20. Nf4 Na5? After this he stands worse; 20. … N×f4 was necessary. 21. B×b7 N×b7 22. Nd5 Qd8 23. Qf5? Short of time, Blackburne overlooks the powerful

move 23. h4! Now Black is on top again. 23. … Nc5 24. Qh5 c6 25. Ne3 Ne4 26. Nf5 Re6 27. Re1 N×g3 28. h×g3 f6 29. e×f6 R×e1† 30. R×e1 Q×f6 31. g4 Nf4 32. Qh2 Nd5 33. Nd2 g6 34. Ne4 Qe6 35. Qg3 Kh8 36. Qa3 Rf6 37. Qc1 g×f5 38. N×f6 Q×f6 39. Re8† Kg7 40. g5 Qd4 41. Qe1 Kf7 42.  Re5 Qf4 43.  Re2 Q×g5 44.  Qd1 Nf6 45.  Qd6 Qc1† 46. Kh2 Bc5 47. Qd3 Qc4 48. Qf3 Qg4 49. Qb3† d5 50. Rc2 Qh5† 51. Kg1 Qd1† 52. Kh2 Ng4† 53. Kg3 Bd6† 54. f4 Qe1† 55. Kh3 B×f4 0–1 In Land and Water on Saturday, 20 July, Löwenthal praised the winner: “In the Grand Tourney, open to the world, the first prize has been carried off by Mr. Steinitz, whose rare genius, skill, and ability have long been recognised by chessplayers throughout the world.”

Later Weeks Steinitz had thus completed his program within three weeks, including the Handicap tournament discussed below. Several other players still had outstanding games in the various tournaments, but the main event of the third week was the public play in the Crystal Palace, which would have involved a train ride of perhaps 30 minutes from central London. There was a report about these proceedings in Land and Water on the 27th of July, claiming it was successful. Those chess columns which had editors disdainful of the British Chess Association (i.e., the Illustrated London News and The Era) largely ignored the whole Congress. The following advance notice appeared in the Daily News on Thursday, 4 July. It was almost verbatim the text of the opening paragraph of the publicity circular for the tournament which can be seen in the illustration. CHESS CONGRESS AND TOURNAMENT.—A Grand International Chess Congress (in connection with the British Chess Association) will be held at the Crystal Palace on Thursday, the 18th, Friday, the 19th, and Saturday, the 20th of July, and will consist of blindfold, simultaneous, consultation games, matches by telegraph, and a lecture on the History and Antiquities of Chess, accompanied by illustrations on diagrams, etc. The tables will be placed in the Concert Room, and will be so arranged that visitors will be able leisurely to watch the progress of the games. Play will commence at 2 p.m. each day. One hundred guineas in prizes are offered by the Crystal Palace Company in addition to special prizes for telegraphic matches.

Notice about the British Chess Association’s public events at the Crystal Palace in July 1872, a very rare item found loose in an old library book. (From the author’s collection.)

An advertisement in the Morning Advertiser on 16 July said that admission on Thursday would cost five shillings, but a ticket could be purchased for half a crown (i.e., half that price) in advance. Friday admission (when the program was more limited) would cost a shilling and Saturday half a crown. Season tickets were also available.

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873

207

Steinitz did not play as prominent a role as B.C.A. Grand Tourney 1872 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Pts Blackburne or even Zukertort in these events 1. Steinitz • 1 1 1 1 1 + 1 7 but was involved in consultation games on 2. Blackburne 0 • 1 1 0 1 + =1 5 the Thursday and Saturday, for which no 0 0 • 0 =1 1 1 1 4 3. Zukertort doubt he received payment. He perhaps did 4. Macdonnell (“Hiber”) 0 0 1 • 0 1 1 1 4 not even go to the Crystal Palace on the Fri5. de Vere 0 1 =0 1 • 0 + 1 4 day. On the Thursday, Blackburne played a 6. Wisker 0 0 0 0 1 • + 1 3 blindfold exhibition against 10 opponents 7. Gossip – – 0 0 – – • 1 1 while Löwenthal conducted a simul over the 8. Martin 0 = 0 0 0 0 0 0 • 0 board against 25 players. Two consultation games were played. The one in which Steinitz them. Following one draw, he beat MacDonnell in his last and Zukertort (playing Black) represented Germany against game on 7 August. In the table above, = indicates two drawn de Vere and Wisker was agreed drawn at nightfall, there games that were replayed. Gossip is believed to have forfeited being “little to choose between the two sides.” The opening four games by withdrawal (the win by default is thus indicated moves were 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. 0–0 by a “+”); all other games were played. N×e4 6. Re1 Nc5 7. B×c6 d×c6 8. d4 Ne6 9. N×e5 Be7 10. Be3 A play-off was required for the lesser placings. MacDon0–0 11. Nc3 Re8 (according to The Australasian, 1 December nell beat de Vere and then Zukertort beat MacDonnell, after 1883). In the other, Boden and Duffy (representing the Westwhich de Vere resigned and settled for fifth prize. There reminster club) held a considerable advantage throughout mains a mystery about a drawn game MacDonnell–de Vere, against the Minchin brothers, representing the St. George’s published in 1875 (Gillam game 31). The colors were the same Club, although this too was agreed drawn at close of play. as in their main tournament game. This was probably a draw The Chess Player’s Chronicle commented that “this was a very in the third place play-off before their decisive game. interesting game, more so than the scientific display between 14 the English and Foreign players.” Two large demonstration boards enabled spectators to follow the consultation games. Handicap Tournament The original program for the Friday had said there would After his early win in the first round, Steinitz was paired be blindfold exhibitions each day but Steinitz perhaps dewith Zukertort. It is uncertain when they played their games. clined or was not offered sufficient inducement. It was never On 20 July, The Field, a little behind with the news, said: explicitly stated that he would play blindfold there. Ken“Onlookers have had a rare treat through Steinitz and Zuknedy’s talk on “The History and Antiquities of Chess,” at ertort being drawn together and making two drawn games.” 3 p.m. was the advertised attraction. An anonymous member Löwenthal had already said the previous Saturday in Land of the audience reported later that Lord Lyttelton fell asleep and Water that they had played two drawn games, adding: during the lecture.15 “It is to be regretted that fortune should have brought these There was a large attendance on the Saturday. Telegraph two fine players together so early in the Handicap, as the matches between five London-based teams of four playing loser must of course retire from the fray.”16 The decisive game against five clubs in the provinces attracted much attention. was played early the following week (before the Crystal Blackburne played in the match against Bristol, conceding Palace days), Zukertort winning, and the result was stated one opponent a knight and playing blindfold against another. in Land and Water the following Saturday. Land and Water It was found impossible to continue beyond 10 p.m. and most also mentioned on 27 July that Zukertort had lost in the third of the games were left unfinished after seven hours’ play. In round (or semi-final) of the Handicap, to Wisker. In the addition, Zukertort played 10 opponents blindfold, concedother semi-final Thorold beat Dr. Ballard. The final would ing one draw. Steinitz was involved in a consultation game be decided by two wins, instead of one in the earlier rounds. with Horwitz against Wisker and Taylor which one paper Thorold won the first game against Wisker, receiving pawn said, was “adjourned till next week” while the Chronicle said and move, and in the deciding game on 3 August at the St. it was drawn. The moves of the consultation games involving George’s Club, Thorold won again to take first prize. Even Steinitz were never published. though Wisker had just won the Challenge Cup for the secDespite more than three weeks’ play, the various competiond time (so it became his property) it was too much to extions were still incomplete but Steinitz was done, having been pect he could beat the capable Bath amateur at those odds. eliminated from the Handicap. The fight for second prize in the Grand Tourney was close with four players in contention 368. R. H. F. Fenton–Steinitz for a long time, especially due to MacDonnell’s somewhat B.C.A. Handicap, London (1), 26? June 1872 surprising win against Zukertort. Blackburne still had two Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 287); The Field, 29 June 1872. opponents to meet and was sure of second if he could defeat

208

Steinitz in London

Fenton was in Class 2 so Steinitz conceded odds of pawn and move. 1. e4 d6 2. d4 Nf6 3. Bd3 Nc6 4. c3 e5 5. d5 Ne7 6. Ne2 Ng6 7. 0–0 c6 8. c4 Be7 9. h3 Nh5 10. Ng3 Nhf4 11. Nc3 0–0 12. Kh2 Bg5 13. Be2 Nh4 14. B×f4 e×f4 15. Nh1 f3 16. B×f3 R×f3 17. g×f3 Qd7 0–1

Rf8 38. N×e6 R×f2† 39. Kh3 the White queen is on an inferior square, and Black can play 39. … Qe7 to meet 40. Nf4 by 40. … R×f4† with a probable draw. After the text Black is lost. 37. N×e6 R×f2† 38. Kh3 Rf7 39. Ra8† Nb8 40. Qc4 Rd7 41. Nc7† Kh7 42. R×b8 Rd8! 43. Qe4† Kg8 44. R×d8† Q×d8 45. Qd5† Q×d5 46. N×d5 The Era says Black resigned here. 46. … b5 47. Kg4 Kf7 48. Kf5 1–0

369. J. H. Zukertort–Steinitz B.C.A. Handicap, London (2.1), July 1872 Ruy Lopez (C67) Bachmann (game 288); L&W, 28 December 1872.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 N×e4 5. d4 Be7 6. Qe2 Nd6 7. B×c6 b×c6 8. d×e5 Nb7 9. c4 0–0 10. Nc3 f6 11. e6 d×e6 12. Rd1 Qe8 13. Nd4 e5 14. Nb3 Nd6 15. Na5 Nf5 16. Nb3 Be6 17. f4 Qf7 18. Qe4 c5 19. Nd5 Bd6 20. f×e5 f×e5 21. Rf1 a5 22. Be3 c6 23. Nb6 ½–½

370. Steinitz–J. H. Zukertort B.C.A. Handicap, London (2.2), July 1872 King’s Bishop’s Gambit (C33) Bachmann (game 289), W.P., V (August 1872), page 55. According to Bachmann, 11. Ne5 had been recommended by Zukertort himself.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Bc4 d5 4. B×d5 Qh4† 5. Kf1 g5 6. Nc3 Bg7 7. d4 Ne7 8. Nf3 Qh5 9. h4 h6 10. Kg1 g4 11. Ne5 B×e5 12. d×e5 Q×e5 13. Qf1 f3 14. g×f3 Qg3† 15. Qg2 Qe1† 16. Qf1 ½–½

371. J. H. Zukertort–Steinitz B.C.A. Handicap, London (2.3), 15? July 1872 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann (game 290); D.S.Z., XXVII (1872), pages 257– 258; W.P., V (August 1872), page 54; The Era, 1 September 1872; L&W, 11 January 1873. Monday 15th looks a likely date since Steinitz had finished with the Grand Tourney two days previously.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  Bc4 Bc5 4.  c3 Nf6 5.  d4 e×d4 6. c×d4 Bb4† 7. Bd2 B×d2† The following month, in their match (Game 374) Steinitz played 7.  … N×e4 instead. 8.  Nb×d2 d5 9.  e×d5 N×d5 10.  Qb3 Na5 11.  Qa4† c6 12. B×d5 Q×d5 13. 0–0 0–0 14. Rfc1 Qb5 15. Qa3 b6 16. Qc3 Bd7 17. Ne5 Rfd8 18. b4 Nb7 19. Qf3 Be8 20. N×c6 B×c6 21. R×c6 Q×b4 22. Nb3 Qa3 23. h4 Nd6 24. Rac1 Ne8 25. h5 h6 26.  Re1? Apparently based on some miscalculation. 26. … Q×a2 27. Re7 Nf6 28. Rcc7 Qb1†? After 28. … Rf8 29. R×f7 R×f7 30. Q×a8† Rf8 31. Q×a7 Q×b3 32. R×g7† Kh8 Black has everything under control, since 33. Rg6? (given in Olson’s book on Zukertort, page 62) is refuted by 33. … Qd1† 34. Kh2 Q×h5†. 29. Kh2 Rd5 30. Re5 Rad8 31. R×a7 R×e5?! This costs Black his advantage. 32. d×e5 Nd7 32. … Ng4†!? 33. Q×g4 Q×b3 is drawish. 33. e6 f×e6 34. Nd4 Qb4 35. Qg4 Qd6† 36. g3 Rf8? Misses a subtlety: after 36. … Re8 37. Qg6

Steinitz–Zukertort Match Although Zukertort thus had a disappointing start to his English chess career, he remained in London as resident professional at the St. George’s Chess Club. Over the next few years he became an increasingly important figure on the London chess scene, both through his play and his extensive published analyses of openings and game annotations. In one of his articles for a Vienna paper in the 1880s, Kolisch made some interesting observations. He began by reminding readers that Zukertort had come to London in 1872 and took third prize behind Steinitz: “From that moment I became aware of him. I had thought him a meritorious theoretician, a good chess writer, but far from believing that this chessbookworm could bring it to great prominence in practical games.” That impression was presumably formed on the basis of Zukertort’s writings for the Neue Berliner Schachzeitung. Kolisch later made Zukertort’s acquaintance at the 1878 Paris tournament and found him “a really charming person.”17 In the same article, Kolisch said that all the major chess players he had come in contact with throughout his life had learned foreign languages with the greatest ease. Löwenthal … had a very poor school education … but took up English so completely that one could confuse him with a thoroughbred country gentleman. Harrwitz spoke French and English without the slightest admixture of any German-Silesian accent. Steinitz, who could not resist “sniffing” in German, used English with the utmost fluency and accuracy. Zukertort, on the other hand, who writes an almost literary English, is almost incomprehensible when he begins to speak [English].

After Zukertort clinched his great victory in the London 1883 tournament, the transformation of his play in the intervening decade was astutely summed up by Potter in Land and Water as follows, in a way that also commented on Steinitz’s own development: There is no doubt that Zukertort, so far as genius and knowledge are concerned, was then [1872] what he is now, but, like Steinitz, he had to go through a course of what we will call the English style of play, which aims at methodic calculation, soundness of combination, and a severe accuracy. The result of a union between German genius and British self-mastery has been with Zukertort the same as it was with Steinitz, who came over here in 1862, expecting to do grand things, but who, in the congress of that year, received a salutary lesson, for he then only took sixth prize, whereas four years afterwards he was able to defeat the then world’s champion, Anderssen.18

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873 After the tournament was over, the last major chess event of the year in Britain took place: the match between Steinitz and Zukertort, convincingly won by the former. The terms of the match were stated in Land and Water on 10 August 1872. The victor would be the first to win seven games, draws not counting. The time limit was 15 moves per hour. The clause that at least four games were to be played each week was not enforced; there were never more than three. The match was to be played under the auspices of the British Chess Association, alternately at the St. George’s and Westminster Chess Clubs. Since Zukertort was now the St. George’s resident professional, the games where he had the White pieces were played there. Unlike the City club, the Westminster was open all day, making it a more suitable location for Steinitz’s “home” games and his backers probably came from among its members.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  Bc4 Bc5 4.  c3 Nf6 5.  d4 e×d4 6. c×d4 Bb6?! A rare and inferior move, once played by Staunton (against the Belgian, De Rives, in 1853); perhaps it took Zukertort by surprise. 7. 0–0 N×e4 8. Re1 0–0 9. R×e4 d5 10. B×d5 Q×d5 11. Nc3 Qd8 12. d5 Ne7 13. Bg5 f6 14. Qb3 Rf7 15. Rae1 Kf8 16. d6 c×d6 17. Nd5 N×d5 18. Q×d5 Bd7 19. Q×d6† Kg8 20. Ne5? (see diagram) Unsound; the Papers said that White overlooked Black’s 23rd move. The diagram position is test 986 in The Woodpecker Method by Smith and Tikkanen. It is the second of only five from Steinitz games in the Advanced Exercises section.

After 20. Ne5

372. J. H. Zukertort–Steinitz Match (1), St. George’s Chess Club, 6 August 1872 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann (game 291); L&W, 24 August 1872, page 129; I.L.N., 31 August 1872; W.P., V (September 1872), page 71.

209

rDw1wDkD 0pDbDr0p wgw!w0wD DwDwHwGw wDwDRDwD DwDwDwDw P)wDw)P) DwDw$wIw

20.  … B×f2†! 21.  Kh1 B×e1?! 21.  … Be8! (Smith and Tikkanen) wins a second pawn, e.g., 22. N×f7 B×f7 23. Q×d8† R×d8: “Because of the back rank weakness, White has to move the Bishop, after which Black takes on e1 and a2.” 22. N×f7 K×f7 23. Qd5† Kg6 24. R×e1 Bc6 25. Q×d8 R×d8 26. Be3 Smith and Tikkanen observe that “White has decent drawing chances, but the same can be said about Black’s winning chances.” 26. … Kf7 27. Kg1 g5 28. Re2 a6 29. Rd2 Re8 30. Kf2? 30. Bd4 (W.P.) retains the bishops and some hope of saving the game. 30. … B×g2 31. B×g5 f×g5 32. K×g2 Kf6 33. Kf3 h5 34. h4 g×h4 35. Rd4 Kg5 36. Rd5† Kg6 37. Rd6† Kf5 38. Rd4 h3 39. Rh4 Kg5 40. R×h3 h4 41. Kf2 Rc8 42. Rb3 Rc2† 43. Kg1 b5 44. a4 b×a4 45. Rb4 Rc1† 46. Kh2 Rb1 47. R×a4 R×b2† 48. Kh3 Rb3† 49. Kh2 Rb6 50.  Kh3 Kf5 51.  K×h4 Rg6 52.  Kh5 Re6 53.  Ra5† Ke4 54. Kg5 Re5† 0–1

373. Steinitz–J. H. Zukertort Match (2), Westminster Chess Club, 8 August 1872 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann (game 292); Land and Water, 31 August 1872; W.P., V (September 1872), page 71; I.L.N., 7 September 1872; D.S.Z., 1872, pages 320–321.

Johannes Zukertort. (From MacDonnell’s book The Knights and Kings of Chess.)

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d×c3 8. Qb3 Qf6 9. Bg5 It later became customary for this bishop to be developed at a3 against the Compromised Defense. 9. … Qg6 10. N×c3 B×c3 11. Q×c3 Nf6? According to the D.S.Z. this move loses the game. The knight stands badly here, blocking the queen. Later Zukertort came to recognize that 11. … Nge7 is the best move (in W.P., VI, page 225) and this was played later in Steinitz–

210

Steinitz in London

Honneger, New York simul 1883. For 11. … h6 see Game 486. 12. Bd3 12. e5 Ne4 13. Qe3 was suggested later in Freeborough and Ranken’s openings book. 12. … 0–0 13. Rae1 b5?! 14. e5 Nd5 15. Qc2 Qh5 16. a3 h6 17. Bd2 Nde7? Zukertort suggested 17. … Nce7 afterwards, as analyzed in the W.P. notes. 18. Re4 Ng6 19. Rfe1 Bb7 20. g4 Qh3 21. R1e3 f5 22. e×f6 R×f6 23. Bf1 Q×f3 24. Qb3† d5 25. R×f3 R×f3 26. Q×f3 d×e4 27. Q×e4 Nge5 28. f4 Nc4 29. Qe6† Kh8 30. Bc3 N6e5 31. B×c4 1–0

374. J. H. Zukertort–Steinitz Match (3), St. George’s Chess Club, 10 August 1872 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann (game 293); L&W, 24 August 1872; W.P., September 1872, page 71; C.P.C., December 1872. Steinitz defended with a little-known drawing line.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  Bc4 Bc5 4.  c3 Nf6 5.  d4 e×d4 6. c×d4 Bb4† 7. Bd2 N×e4 Frank Healey, annotating this game in the journal Births, Marriages and Deaths, 2 September 1872, noted: “A move formerly condemned by the authorities, but at the present time looked upon as quite sound.” 8. B×b4 N×b4 9. B×f7† Healey: “It was this move old theorists feared, if the Kt took the KP, but it will be seen the second player comes out with at least an equal game.” 9. … K×f7 10.  Qb3† d5 Modern theory considers that 10.  … Ke8 11. Q×b4 Qe7 forces a queen exchange and completely equalizes. 11. Q×b4 If 11. Ne5† Ke6 (only move) said Healey. 11. … Re8 12. 0–0 c6 13. Nc3 Nf6 14. Rae1 Qb6 15. Q×b6 a×b6 16. R×e8 N×e8 17. Re1 Nd6 18. g4 ½–½

375. Steinitz–J. H. Zukertort

Nd3? 25. N×d3 B×c4 26. Rfd1 Q×h5 27. Nde5 Re8 28. Rd7 b5 29. g4 D.S.Z. say this was Steinitz’s mistake in this game; Black is now able to obtain a drawing attack against the exposed White king. 29. … Qh3 30. Qf2 a5 31. a3 a4 32. Re1 Rcd8 33. Red1 R×d7 34. R×d7 b4 The Era: A good move. After this it is very difficult, if not impracticable, for White to win the game. 35. Rd4 Bb3 36. R×b4 B×e5 37. B×e5 Bd5 38. Qg3 Q×g3† 39. B×g3 B×f3 ½–½

376. J. H. Zukertort–Steinitz Match (5), St. George’s Chess Club, 15 August 1872 Ruy Lopez (C77) Bachmann (game 295); W.P. published this game out of sequence in its September 1872 number, page 72. It was also in L&W and I.L.N., both 28 September 1872; C.P.C., December 1872, pages 170–171; D.S.Z., November 1872, page 321. It is also game 9 in Pritchett, page 74.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. d3 d6 6. B×c6† b×c6 7. h3 g6 8. Nc3 Bg7 9. Be3 c5 10. Qd2 h6 11. Rb1 Ng8 12. Nh2 Ne7 13. f4? e×f4 14. B×f4 g5 15. Be3 f5 16. 0–0 f4 17.  Bf2 Nc6 18.  Nd5 0–0 19.  b4 c×b4 20.  N×b4 N×b4 21. R×b4 Be6 22. Bd4 B×d4† 23. R×d4 c5 24. Ra4 Qb6 25. c4 a5 26. Ra3 a4 27. Rc3 Rfb8 28. Rc2 Qc7 29. Rb2? Correct was 29. Nf3 (Pritchett). 29. … a3 30. Rbb1 Qg7 31. R×b8† W.P. wrongly claimed that 31. Nf3 would draw but after 31. … Rb2 32. R×b2 a×b2 33. Rb1 R×a2 34. e5 Black can play 34. … g4 or even 34. … Qb7. 31. … R×b8 32. Qa5 Qd4† 33. Kh1 Q×d3 34. Qc7 Rb1 35. Qd8† Kf7 0–1

377. Steinitz–J. H. Zukertort

Match (4), Westminster Chess Club, 12 August 1872 Kieseritzky Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 294); W.P., V (September 1872), page 72; L&W, 7 September 1872, page 156; C.P.C., October 1872, page 131; The Era, 15 September; D.S.Z., 1872, pages 319– 320.

Match (6), Westminster Chess Club, 17 August 1872 Salvio Gambit (C37) Bachmann (game 296); L&W, XIV (21 September 1872); I.L.N., 26 October 1872; W.P., V (September 1872), page 72; C.P.C., February 1873, pages 195–197; D.S.Z., XXVII (1872), page 318; Neishtadt, pages 82–88.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Bg7 6. d4 Nf6 This was a main line in those days (developed by Louis Paulsen) but 6. … d6 is considered better nowadays. 7. Bc4 d5 8. e×d5 0–0 9. B×f4!? A novelty, but Steinitz does not follow it up correctly. The usual continuation was 9. Nc3 c5 as in Anderssen–L. Paulsen, Aachen 1868. This had occurred in Blackburne–Zukertort on 26 June in the international tournament and White eventually won. 9. … N×d5 10. B×d5 Q×d5 11. 0–0 c5 12. c3? In Steinitz–Blackburne, 3rd match game 1876, White continued 12. Nc3 Q×d4† 13. Q×d4 c×d4 14. Nd5 with compensation (Game 478). 12. … c×d4 13. N×g4 Qe6 14.  Nf2 Qb6 15.  c4 Be6 16.  Nd2 Nd7 17.  Nd3 Nc5 18. Ne5 Q×b2 19. Rb1 Qc3 19. … Q×a2 20. Rf2 followed by Qh5 (Löwenthal; D.S.Z.) 20. Ndf3 Rac8 The Era: 20. … f6 looks very promising, but White has a good reply, e.g., 21. Bd2 Qa3 22. Bb4. 21. Rc1 Qa5 22. h5 h6 23. Q×d4 Rfd8 24. Qe3

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. Ne5 This unsound gambit was a favorite of Steinitz in his combinational days. White’s aggressive play wins material in some lines but Black should obtain a strong counter-attack. 5. … Qh4† 6. Kf1 Nh6 Later Herzfeld’s 6. … Nc6! was shown to be the strongest; see Game 527. 7. d4 f3! This was Zukertort’s improvement on 7. … d6 as played in four games of the Steinitz–Anderssen match. 7. … Nc6 was tried later in Marshall–Chigorin, Vienna 1903. 8. Nc3 8. Bf4 was played successfully in Anderssen–Zukertort, match 1868, while 8. g3 Qh3† 9. Kf2 Qg2† 10. Ke3 f5 is winning for Black. Korchnoi and Zak’s book on the King’s Gambit attribute this to Bird but it may have been known earlier. 8. … d6 8. … f×g2† see Game 240; 8. … Nc6 9. Bf4 occurred in Steinitz–Chigorin, Vienna 1882, and White won. 9. Nd3 Bg7 This variation was well known to both players. Theory battles also occurred in the mid–nineteenth cen-

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873 tury! Zukertort had written on this line in the N.B.S.Z. before the match but he had not considered the reply Steinitz adopted. Zukertort’s previous choice 9. … f×g2† is probably better, although no doubt Steinitz had something new in mind: 10.  K×g2 Bg7 11.  Nf4 0–0 (11.  … Nc6 12.  Be3 0–0 13. Qd2 Kh8 and Black has a good game—Neishtadt.) 12. Be3 Kh8 13. Qd2 f5 14. e5 d×e5 15. d×e5 Nc6 (0–1, 33) Anderssen–Zukertort, Berlin 1868. 10. g3 Zukertort had only analyzed 10. Be3 and 10. Nf4, but it turns out that the defense of the d-pawn can be postponed because the White king is safe now. 10. … Qd8 After 10. … Qh3† 11. Ke1 the Black queen must retreat because she is lost after 11. … B×d4? (11. … Qg2 12. Nf2 followed by 13. Bf1.) 12. Nf4 f2† 13. Kd2. 11. Nf4 0–0 12. h3 This loosens the pawns and exposes both kings somewhat; I.L.N. recommended the immediate 12. Nh5 threatening to win a piece by 13. Qd2, 14. N×g7 etc., but according to L&W this leads to nothing special after 12. … Kh8. 12. … Nc6 13. Nh5 g×h3 14. Nd5 Ng4 15. c3 Ne7 15. … Na5 16. Bd3 f5 also came into consideration but the a5-knight is out of play. 16. Ndf4 Ng6 17. N×h3 Be6 18. B×e6 f×e6 19.  Ng5 Bh6! Zukertort has managed to keep chances roughly level with ingenious play. 20. Qb3 If 20. N×e6 B×c1 21. N×d8 Ne3† 22. Kf2 N×d1† 23. R×d1 B×b2 24. Rab1 Ra×d8 25. R×b2 b6 26. Rd3 White picks up the f3-pawn and the endgame is likely to be drawn. 20. … B×g5 21. Q×e6† Rf7 22. Q×g4 B×c1 23. R×c1 Qe8 24. c4!? (see diagram)

rDwDqDkD 0p0wDrDp wDw0wDnD DwDwDwDN wDP)PDQD DwDwDp)w P)wDwDwD Dw$wDKDR

After 24. c4

24. Rh2 is safer. Until now, the game has been a good example of grandmaster tactical chess, mid–Victorian style, but White’s move provokes a fatal mistake. 24. … d5? 24. … c5 would have been strong. Now White must avoid 25. c×d5?? Qb5† and 25. e×d5?? Qe2† mating, but his fairly obvious reply obtains a passed pawn and, more importantly, control of f6. 25. e5! d×c4 26. R×c4 Qb5 If 26. … Rd8 then 27. Rh2 threatens Nf6†. Black cannot save the exchange. 27. b3 Qa6 28. Nf6† R×f6 29. e×f6 Q×f6 30. R×c7 Re8 31. Qd7 Steinitz continues to find forceful moves to deny counterplay; 31. Rc8 would also be good. 31. … Qa6† 32. Rc4 Re7 33. Qd5† Kg7 34. Rh2 b5 35. Rc6 Qb7 36. R×h7†! Mate is now forced. 36. … K×h7 37. Qh5† Kg8 38. R×g6† Rg7 39. Rh6 Kf8 40. Rh8† 1–0 L&W and I.L.N. say Black resigned here but D.S.Z. has further moves: 40. … Ke7 41. Qe5† Kf7 42. Qe8† Kf6 43. Rh6† Kf5 44. Qe5† Kg4 45. Qf4 mate.

211

378. J. H. Zukertort–Steinitz Match (7), St. George’s Chess Club, 20 August 1872 Ruy Lopez (C77) Bachmann (game 297); W.P., V (September 1872), page 72; L&W, XIV (21 September 1872), page 196; C.P.C. (February 1873), pages 197–198.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  Bb5 a6 4.  Ba4 Nf6 5.  d3 d6 6. B×c6† b×c6 7. h3 g6 8. Nc3 c5 9. Bg5 c6 10. Qd2 h6 11. B×f6 Q×f6 12. Ne2 Bg7 13. Ng3 Qe7 14. Rb1 f5 15. b4 f4 16. Ne2 c×b4 17. Q×b4 Be6 18. Qb7 Q×b7 19. R×b7 0–0 20. Kd2 Bf6 21. c4 ½–½

379. Steinitz–J. H. Zukertort Match (8), Westminster Chess Club, 22? August 1872 Allgaier Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 298); L&W, XIV (7 September 1872), pages 155–156; W.P., V (September 1872), page 73; I.L.N., 9 November 1872; C.P.C. (February 1873), pages 192–195. The date of this game is in dispute: Land and Water says it was played on the 22nd but the Westminster Papers (which Gelo follows) says the 24th.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ng5?! Steinitz switches to the Allgaier which commits White to a dubious piece sacrifice. 5. … h6 6. N×f7 K×f7 7. Bc4† d5 8. B×d5† Kg7 9. d4 Qf6!? Zukertort tries a new and probably suspect idea instead of the usual 9. … Nf6 or 9. … f3. 10. e5 Qg6!? 11. h5 Qf5 12. 0–0? Castling into a dangerous attack; 12. Nc3 would be critical. 12.  … f3 13.  Nd2 Ne7 14.  Be4 Q×h5 15. N×f3!? Nbc6! Not 15. … g×f3 16. R×f3 with a dangerous initiative. 16. Nh2 Ng6 17. Rf6 Ng×e5 18. d×e5 Bc5† 19. Kh1 N×e5 20. Rf1 Be6 21. Bf4 Rhf8 22. Qe1 Bd6 23. Qg3 Rf6 24. Rf2 Raf8 25. Raf1 b6 26. b3 R8f7 27. c4 Kf8 Pickard’s database has instead 26. … R6f7 27. c4 Kf6 which would be disastrous for Black. 28. Bc2 Ke7 29. Bb1 R×f4! 30. R×f4 R×f4 31. R×f4 Nf7 32. Qe3 B×f4 33. Q×f4 Qe5? Black overlooked an easy win by 33. … g3 34. Q×c7† Bd7 35. Q×g3 Qd1†. Now follows an interesting endgame. 34. Q×e5 N×e5 35.  Nf1 Kd6 36.  Kh2 Kc5 37.  Kg3 Kd4 38.  Kf4 Nd3† 39. B×d3 K×d3 40. Ne3 h5 41. g3 a5 42. Ng2 Kd2 43. Ne3 a4 44. b×a4 Kd3 45. a3 B×c4 46. Nf5 Be6 47. Ng7 Bf7 48. Nf5 c5 49. Nd6 Bg8 50. a5 b×a5 51. Nb7 c4 52. N×a5 c3 53. Nc6 c2 54. Nb4† Kc3 55. N×c2 K×c2 56. a4 Kd3 57. a5 Ke2 58. a6 Bd5 0–1

380. J. H. Zukertort–Steinitz Match (9), St. George’s Chess Club, 27 August 1872 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann (game 299); L&W, XIV (5 October 1872), page 233; W.P., V (September 1872), page 73; C.P.C. (February 1873), pages 206–207.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d3!? 8. Qb3 Qf6 9. e5 Qg6 10. Nbd2 10. Re1

212

Steinitz in London

Nge7 11. Ba3 was played by Anderssen in the “Evergreen Game” against Jean Dufresne, Berlin 1852; 10. Rd1 may be the most precise. 10. … Nge7 11. Re1 b5!? 11. … 0–0 is also interesting, as played in S. Conquest–M. Narciso Dublan, Pamplona 2001. 12. B×b5 Rb8 13. Qa4 B×c3 14. Rb1 a6 15. B×c6? The ending will be hopeless for White. In notes to the Conquest game, Lukacs suggested 15. B×d3! Q×d3 16. R×b8 N×b8 17. Re3 but after 17. … Qb5 Black still stands better. 15. … Q×c6 16. Q×c6 N×c6 17. R×b8 N×b8 18. Re3 Nc6 19. R×d3 Bb4 20. Bb2 a5 21. Ne4 Ba6 22. Re3 0–0 23. Nh4 Rb8 24. Nf5 Bd2 25. Rb3 R×b3 26. a×b3 Bb4 27.  Neg3 Bd3 28.  Ne3 Bc5 29.  Ngf5 g6 30.  Nh6† Kf8 31. Nhg4 Bd4 32. B×d4 N×d4 33. Nf6 Ke7 34. Ned5† Kd8 35. N×h7 Bc2 36. b4 a4 37. Kf1 Nb5 38. Ng5 a3 0–1

381. Steinitz–J. H. Zukertort Match (10), Westminster Chess Club, 31 August 1872 Dutch Defense (A81) Bachmann (game 300); W.P., V (October 1872), page 85; L&W, XIV (26 October 1872), pages 284–285; C.P.C. (April 1873), page 229. In this game Steinitz opened 1. d4 for the first time in his competitive career.

1. d4 f5 2. g3 Nf6 3. Bg2 e6 4. Nf3 Be7 5. c4 Bb4† 6. Nfd2 Ne4 7.  B×e4 f×e4 8.  0–0 B×d2 9.  N×d2 d5 10.  f3 e×f3 11. R×f3 Nc6 12. e3 Qe7 13. Rf2 d×c4 14. Ne4 Bd7 15. Qh5† g6 16. Qb5 Qb4 17. Qg5 Qe7 18. Nf6† Kd8 19. Bd2 Kc8 20. Bc3 Rf8 21. e4 b6 22. d5 Nd8 23. Raf1 Kb7 24. a3 a5 25. N×h7 Q×g5 26. N×g5 R×f2 27. R×f2 e×d5 28. e×d5 c6 29. d×c6† N×c6 30. Rf7 Kc7 31. Ne6† Kd6 32. Nf8 Bf5 33. N×g6 B×g6 34. Rf6† Kc5 35. R×g6 b5 36. Rg5† Kb6 37. h4 b4 38. a×b4 a×b4 39. Bg7 Rg8 40. Kf2 b3 41. Ke3 Rd8 42. h5 Rd3† 43. Ke2 Nd4† 44. B×d4† R×d4 45. h6 c3 46.  h7 Rd2† 47.  Ke3 Rh2 48.  Rg6† Kc5 49.  Rg5† Kc4 50. Rg4† Kc5 51. b×c3 R×h7 52. Rb4 Ra7 53. R×b3 Kc4 54. Rb8 K×c3 55. Rc8† 1–0

382. J. H. Zukertort–Steinitz Match (11), St. George’s Chess Club, 3 September 1872 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann (game 301); W.P., V (October 1872), page 85; C.P.C. (April 1873), page 231; L&W, XVI (19 July 1873), page 57. Black squandered several winning chances.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d3!? 8. Qb3 Qf6 9. Bg5!? Unusual; Zukertort tries to improve on match game 9. 9. … Qg6 10. B×d3 Nh6 11.  Nbd2 0–0 12.  Rad1 Bb6 13.  B×h6?! Q×h6 14.  e5 d5 15.  e×d6 c×d6 16.  Ne4 Bg4 17.  Qd5 Rad8 18.  Neg5 g6 19. Bc4 Qg7 20. Rfe1 h6 21. Ne4 B×f3?! 22. g×f3 Kh7 23. f4 f5 24. N×d6 Q×c3 25. Re6 Bd4 26. Rde1 Bg7 27. R1e3? Qa1†? The immediate 27. … Qd4 should win: see the note to move 30. 28. Kg2 Qd4 29. Rg3 Q×d5† 30. B×d5 Rf6 If the White king were still on g1 then 30. … Nd4 would win but now it would be met by R×g6 because there is no fork

on e2. 31. R×f6 B×f6 32. B×c6 b×c6 33. Nc4 Rd4 34. Ne5 R×f4 35. N×c6 Ra4 36. Rb3 a6 37. Rb7† Kg8 38. Nb4 a5 39. Nd5 Bg7 40. Ne7† Kh7 41. Nd5 g5 42. Ne7 Rf4 43. a3 h5 44. Rb5 ½–½

383. Steinitz–J. H. Zukertort Match (12), Westminster Chess Club, 5 September 1872 Dutch Defense (A92) Bachmann (game 302); W.P., V (October 1872), page 85; L&W, XIV (14 December 1872), page 400; D.S.Z., XXVII (November 1872), pages 314–315.

1. d4 f5 2. g3 Nf6 3. Bg2 e6 4. Nf3 Be7 5. 0–0 Varying from 5. c4 of game 10, presumably to avoid the bishop check. 5. … 0–0 6. c4 Qe8 7. Nc3 d5 8. Ne5 c6 9. b3 Ne4 10. Bb2 Nd7 11. Nd3 Ndf6 12. Qc2 Bd6 13. N×e4 f×e4 14. Ne5 B×e5 15. d×e5 Ng4 16. h3 Nh6 17. g4 Qe7 18. f3 e×f3 19. e×f3 Bd7 20. f4 Qc5† 21. Kh1 b5 22. Rad1 b×c4 23. Bd4 Qe7 24. b×c4 a5 25. Qf2 Rfc8 26. Bc5 Qe8 27. Rfe1 Rab8 28. f5 e×f5 29.  e6 B×e6 30.  c×d5 f×g4 31.  R×e6 Qh5 32.  d×c6 g3 33. Qd4 Nf5 34. Qd5 L&W had a misprint, saying “34 R to K5th and wins,” omitting a move pair, though 34. Re5 would be sufficient to win. 34. … Kh8 35. Re5 1–0 Thus Steinitz won the match by a large margin: +7 –1 =4.

Later in 1872 384. B. W. Fisher–Steinitz Casual game, Liverpool, October 1872 Bishop’s Opening (C23) Bachmann (game 307), pages 326–327; originally published in the Liverpool Weekly Albion, 26 October 1872, with notes by Burn: “The following brilliant little partie occurred recently between Mr. Fisher, of Malvern, and the great German master, Herr Steinitz, now probably the strongest living player.”

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 f5 3. B×g8 “This move is generally condemned by the books, but Herr Steinitz thinks it may be played with advantage if followed by P to Q4th immediately.” 3. … R×g8 4. e×f5 “4. d4 is the correct move here, as stated above.” 4. … d5 5. Qh5† g6 6. f×g6 R×g6 7. Ne2 Nc6 8. 0–0 Bg4 9. Q×h7 Rh6 10. Qd3 e4 11. Qe3 Qh4 12. h3 B×e2 13. Q×e2 Nd4 14. Qd1 “If 14. Qg4 Q×g4 15. h×g4 Ne2 mate.” 14. … Nf3† 15. Kh1 “It is evident he could not capture the Kt. without being checkmated in one or two moves.” 15. … Q×h3† “An exceedingly fine stroke of play, as sound as it is daring.” 16.  g×h3 R×h3† 17.  Kg2 Rh2† 18.  Kg3 Bd6† 19. Kg4 Rh4† 20. Kf5 Rh5† 21. Kg6 If 21. Kf6 Black answers with 21. … Be7†; and if 21. Ke6 Re5† “giving White no time and driving him on to the last file.” 21. … Rg5† 22. Kh6 “Threatening Q×f3 etc.” 22. … Bf8† 23. Kh7 Kf7 24. Rh1 Bg7 White resigned (0–1).

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873

385. Mr. W–Steinitz Blindfold simul, probably London 1872 See diagram W.P., V (December 1872), page 116: Endgames from Actual Play, no XXII. Mr. W v Steinitz. Nothing more is known about the circumstances. This finish is not in the usual collections.

rDw1kgw4 0w0wDp0p wDnDbDwD DQDw0wDw whwDwDwD DwHwDwDP P)w)P)PD $wGwIBHR

213

what earthly interest can there be to anybody but a muff in watching a game between a professional (who is reading a paper half the time) and some amateur who receives a Rook and loses? The Westminster is now defunct as a chess club., except in name, but we fancy that even in its palmiest days it could not muster half the number of good players that one may see daily at the Divan, such as Steinitz, Bird, Boden, McDonnell, Zukertort, Wormald, Hoffer, Wisker, Cousin, Coburn, De Vere, and others too numerous to mention….20

Vienna Correspondence Match Black to move

“Black blindfolded and playing six games simultaneously, won as follows”: 1. … Nc2† 2. Kd1 Bd7 3. Rb1 Rb8 4. Qd5 Bd6 5. Nb5 N6b4 6. N×d6† c×d6 7. Q×d6 Ne3† 0–1 On Wednesday, 27 November 1872, the B.C.A. held its annual dinner, perhaps its last, at the Albion Tavern in Aldersgate Street. The association president, Lord Lyttelton, took the chair and a large number of chess celebrities and prominent amateurs were present, including John Cochrane (1798– 1878), de Vere, Wisker (the British Champion), Steinitz and Zukertort, but Blackburne was away on tour in the northwest of England. Lyttelton proposed the health of “The Distinguished Foreign Visitors”—Herren Steinitz and Zukertort, to whose skill, especially in the late encounter between the two, his lordship paid the highest compliment. Both masters responded. According to Löwenthal in Land and Water, Steinitz stated that “it was the association which had first induced him to leave Vienna, and but for its encouragement he might still have remained an unknown player.” Wayte, when toasting the health of the president, remarked that “the fact that chess was the chosen recreation of men of culture was sufficiently attested by the excellent English in which they had just been addressed by their two foreign guests.”19 It should be mentioned that, because of the decline of the Westminster Chess Club, some leading amateurs returned to Simpson’s Divan during 1872, although Steinitz, probably, had never left it. Further references to the continued existence of the Divan as a chess resort will also be found in later chapters. A passage in The Field on 21 December, probably written by de Vere, noted: It is an interesting and pleasing fact that chess has revived at the wellknown Cigar Divan in the Strand…. Now almost any afternoon firstrate players may be seen contesting with each other—a practice, we are sorry to say, that had rather died out. There is some pleasure in looking over a game between Mr. McDonnell [sic] and Herr Zukertort, or between such well-matched players as Bird and Boden; but

When the Handicap tournament at the City of London Club was starting in October, Löwenthal wrote in L&W, 19 October, that: “Messrs. Blackburne, Potter, and Steinitz do not take part in the present tournament, it must be remembered that the Vienna match engages much of their attention….” The historic correspondence match against Vienna, probably the strongest chess club on the European continent at this time, was played between 6 June 1872 and 1 April 1874. Since this match has been extensively discussed in several other books, the coverage of it here will be kept to a minimum. In particular, both Landsberger’s William Steinitz and Zavatarelli’s biography of Kolisch include Steinitz’s notes in full.21 The City of London Chess Magazine credits Löwenthal with “setting the match on foot” and described the arrangements.22 The original challenge was issued by the City of London Club on 1 March 1872 and Vienna responded with a counter-proposal that the match be played for £100 a side, which was agreed to after some discussion in London.23 Steinitz was naturally one of the players selected by the club to conduct London’s side of the match. Also on their original team were Potter, Horwitz (who fell seriously ill), Blackburne (who became too busy with his provincial club tour after the opening moves), and Löwenthal and Wisker who, according to the latter, “were prevented by other engagements from taking part in the play.”24 There were two adjournments (agreed in advance) so that the total playing time was about 18 months. The first (for the B.C.A. congress) occurred immediately after the match got underway, so it was not until 21 July (according to Steinitz) that further moves were exchanged. London’s opening choice with Black definitely looks as if it was dictated by Steinitz. Employing the English Opening with White was possibly a suggestion from Horwitz who had played it in his early career, and it would have been a good way to avoid a theory battle with the Austrians. The critical phase of both games was between the fall of 1872 and spring of 1873, and then the latter months of 1873 after the Vienna chess congress.25 Press reports show that at the end of August London had made five moves in each game, and by the end of October they had played 11 moves in one game and 12 in the other. By the end of January 1873 the games had reached

214

Steinitz in London

move 20 and only Steinitz and Potter were still involved on the London side. The Vienna team was named in a telegram to London on 18 June as Dr. Meitner, Kolisch, Dr. Max Fleissig, O. Gelbfuhs, Josef Berger, and also Adolf Csánk who was later replaced by Adolf Schwarz. It is not entirely clear who made the decisions on their side; only two names had to be signed for a move to be valid. When the match was over, Steinitz argued (contrary to some claims) that Kolisch had sometimes been a signatory until fairly late in the match. Zavatarelli’s biography of Kolisch shows that at least for the latter stages (after the Vienna 1873 Congress) Kolisch appears to have been mostly preoccupied with his business in Paris although he made a visit to Vienna for a few weeks at the end of October. Eventually, with one hopeless position and the other unpromising, Vienna proposed to resign one and draw the other, a face-saving exercise to which the London club agreed to secure the stakes and bring the match to an end. Various claims have been made about this match as being a crucial event in the transformation of Steinitz’s playing style, though that can hardly be true of the game in the ultratactical Scotch 4. … Qh4 game. What would certainly be true is that the need to analyze the games deeply and avoiding the kind of risks normal in over-the-board play must have imposed a discipline on Steinitz and started him thinking about chess in a new way. Lasker, when in London, was told that working with Potter had influenced Steinitz. Although he was definitely the junior partner on the team, Potter certainly had an unusual defense-oriented style for those days, but the study of Paulsen’s games was probably a more significant influence on the development of Steinitz’s new method in the 1870s.26 It is curious that Bachmann appears to have overlooked the game in which Vienna played White. Pickard calls these games “Steinitz and Allies” against “Kolisch and allies,” while ChessBase’s database collection labels the games as “Kolisch and Meitner” versus “Steinitz and Potter.” Yet Meitner resigned from the Vienna committee at some stage and it is likely that it was other players than those two who principally ran the Vienna side. Steinitz and Potter analyzed both games exhaustively for the press after the match ended, in The Field and in the City of London Chess Magazine, but modern analysis does not often agree with details of their analysis or their assessments of the positions. The notes here will be kept very brief because the games have been published numerous times.

386. City of London Chess Club–Vienna Chess Club London–Vienna corr (1), 1872–1874 English Opening (A21) Bachmann (game 303); The Field, 18 April 1874, page 375; C.O.L.C.M., I (May 1874), pages 89–93; game 11 in Pritchett’s book on Steinitz, starting on page 86.

1. c4 e5 2. Nc3 Bb4 This was once a rare move but in recent years several grandmasters have tried to avoid the well-trodden paths of 2. … Nf6 in this way. The main idea is to lure the White knight to d5 and then gain a tempo for expansion by 3. … c6. 3. Nd5 Be7 This makes little sense in the modern conception of the variation. 3. … Bc5 and 3. … a5 are the replies most played in top master practice nowadays. 4. d4 e×d4 5. Bf4 5. Qd4 was seen in Dubov–Erdos, Skopje 2019. 5. … c6 6. N×e7 N×e7 7. Q×d4 0–0 8. e4 d5 9. 0–0–0 Be6 10. Nf3 Nd7 11. Ng5 h6 12. e×d5 Bf5 13. Ne4 c×d5 14. Nc3 Nb6! 15. Be5! Steinitz considered this to be the turning point but Black still has adequate resources. 15. … Nc6 16. Qf4 N×e5 17. Q×e5 Qg5† 18. f4 Qg6 19. c5 Nd7 20. Qd4 Rfd8 Pritchett does not consider the critical move here, namely 20. … b6! 21. N×d5 Kf8 Pritchett indicates that 21. … Qe6 might be Black’s last good try. 22. Ne3 Kg8 23. Bc4 Rac8 24. Rhe1 Be4 25. b4 b6 26. Qd6 b×c5 27. Qe7 c×b4 28. R×d7 Re8 29. Qd6 Q×d6 30. R×d6 B×g2 31. Rd4 London now has a winning endgame. 31. … Bd5 32. R×d5 R×c4† 33. N×c4 R×e1† 34. Kb2 Re4 35. Rd8† Kh7 36. Kb3 R×f4 37. Ra8 g5 38. R×a7 h5 39. K×b4 g4 40. a4 Rf2 41. a5 h4 42. Rd7 R×h2 43. R×f7† Kg6 44. a6 Re2 45. a7 Re8 46. Rb7 Ra8 47. Nb6 h3 48. N×a8 h2 49. Rb6†! 1–0

387. Vienna Chess Club–City of London Chess Club London–Vienna corr (2), 1872–1874 Scotch Game (C45) The Field, 2 May 1874, page 425; C.O.L.C.M., I (June 1874), pages 117–123; Lev Gutman, 4. ... Qh4 in the Scotch Game (London: Batsford 2001), especially pages 109– 113.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Qh4 5. Nb5 Bb4† 6. Bd2 Q×e4† 7. Be2 Kd8 8. 0–0 B×d2 9. N×d2 Qf4!? This was a novelty. 10. c4 Nf6 11. Nf3 Ng4 12. g3 Qf6 13. Nc3 Re8 14. Nd2 Nh6 15. Nde4 Qg6 16. Bh5 Qf5 17. Bf3 b6 18. Bg2 Bb7 19.  Qd2 f6 20.  Rad1 Nf7 21.  Rfe1 Rb8 22.  f4 Na5 23. Qd3?! Both 23. b3 and 23. c5 would have been much more dangerous for Black, although Steinitz believed he could defend successfully. 23. … Nd6 24. b3 B×e4 25. N×e4 Re7 26. Kh1 Nab7 27. b4 a5 28. a3 a×b4 29. a×b4 Qe6 30. c5! b×c5 31. Qb1 Qc4 32. b×c5 N×e4 33. R×e4 R×e4 34. B×e4 Kc8! White has now sufficient compensation for the sacrificed pawn, but not more. 35. Bd5 Q×c5 36. Q×h7 Qf8 37. Qd3 Qe8 38. Qc3? After this ineffective move, about which Steinitz made no comment, Black takes the initiative. White should maintain the pressure by 38. Rb1 c6 39. Qa6 (or immediately 38. Qa6) because it would be fatal for Black to capture the B. 38.  … Nd6 39.  Bf3 Qe6 40.  Rc1 Nb5 41. Qd2 c6 42. Re1 Qf7 43. Qb4 Qa2 44. Bg2 Kc7 45. Rb1 Ra8 46. Rc1 Qe2 47. Bf1 Qf3† 48. Bg2 Qe3 49. Re1 Qf2

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873 ½–½. The final position, as Steinitz claimed, should be winning for Black. Steinitz wrote a long note beginning: At this point Vienna resigned the London game and proffered a draw in this game, a proposal tantamount, according to the conditions, to a resignation of the match. Their offer was accepted on our part, with the view of at once terminating the contest. Nevertheless, it must be apparent that the position of the present game as it remains, shows a striking advantage in favor of London, and that the game, if continued, could have had no other result than a victory for London…. White’s only chance of avoiding a speedy defeat consisted in their trying to bring about an exchange of Queens at the earliest opportunity.

215

apparently some kind of merchant; there is a short reference in Gore’s Liverpool General Advertiser, 23 December 1869, page 4, to an A. P. Belaieff. Then in July 1873 a merchant named as Abraham Belaieff (possibly not the same person) was sentenced to a month’s imprisonment for striking a policeman when drunk. He was excused hard labor because of evidence he had heart disease.30 His death was mentioned in B.C.M., VIII (1888) page 246: “Steinitz … is reported to have said that Belaieff only wanted practice to be a great master,” which is a clue they had met at the board. He was said to be an excellent whist player.

388. Steinitz–A. P. Belayev

Events in Early 1873 The City of London Chess Club annual dinner was held on Wednesday, 5 February at its new rooms, the City Restaurant with about 80 gentlemen present.27 The club president Henry Francis Gastineau (1815–1904) took the chair with special guest Cochrane on his right and Steinitz to his left. Zukertort was also there. The Rev. Cyril Pearson, a noted problem composer, proposed the health of Cochrane, who in reply congratulated the company on the presence of so many celebrated players, making special mention of Steinitz, “whom he regarded as the finest European chess player of the present day.” The club soon hosted the first match between Oxford and Cambridge universities—a great occasion, watched by as many as 700 spectators including many chess celebrities. Steinitz, who was appointed umpire, reported at length in The Field: The match between Oxford and Cambridge took place on Friday, the 28th of last month, at the rooms of the City of London Chess Club, Gordon’s City Restaurant, 34, Milk-street, Cheapside. There were seven competitors on each side, and the conditions were, that each player should play two games, and if any game were not finished by 11 p.m. it should be adjudged by the umpire. The match resulted in a decided victory for the Dark Blue, who scored nine games to their opponents’ two, whilst two were drawn, one not being played…. Two of the games remained unfinished at the hour appointed for closing the play, and these were adjudicated by the umpire, Mr. Steinitz, who has favoured us with the grounds of his decisions….28

Steinitz played hardly any known games in the early months of 1873, probably because he was preoccupied with the correspondence match, and later with preparations for the Vienna international tournament in the summer. His opponent in Game 388, below, was a Russian, who over several years was often in London, and may even have been a temporary resident at one time.29 A report in The Era, 28 May 1865, of a London Chess Club dinner held the previous Thursday names “Belleaff, Esq.” as one of those present. A game in The Field, 2 June 1867 shows “Belaieff ” was there around the time of the Paris 1867 tournament, probably visiting. In the Transactions 68/69, page 1, A. P. Belaieff, Esq. was listed as being elected to the B.C.A. committee. He was

Casual game, London, 1873? King’s Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 309) has the spelling “Belajeff ” and dates the game to 1873, but the year is uncertain from the primary source, W.P., V (February 1873), page 154, where it was described as “Played between Messrs. Steinitz and B.” Pickard dates the game 1873 in his book (game 650) but 1866 in his database (game 169). The game was reprinted many times, e.g., C.P.C. (April 1875), pages 249–250, game XXIV in Gossip’s Modern Chess Brilliancies (1892), game 181 in Ellis’s Chess Sparks, in Devidé on page 23, and game 46 in Wenman, One Hundred Chess Gems (1939).

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Nh5 9. Nc3 Qe7 10. Bb5† Kd8 11. 0–0 B×e5 12. d×e5 Q×h4 Varying from Game 106. 13. R×f4 “The initial move of a grand combination” wrote Gossip. “A splendid sacrifice which leads to a problem finish” said Wenman. 13. … N×f4 14. B×f4 g3 15. Qf3 Rg8 16. e6 f×e6 17. B×g3 Qg5 18. Qf7 e5 19. Q×g8† Q×g8 20. Bh4† 1–0

389. Steinitz–J. Burt Cardiff blindfold simul, 15 April 1873 Bishop’s Opening (C24) Bachmann (game 310) from The Field, 19 April 1873; this event was also reported in the Western Daily Press, Thursday, 17 April 1873. Steinitz played seven members of the Cardiff club blindfold, drawing with the local champion Nelson Fedden (1836?–1915), winning five, and leaving one game unfinished but “much in favour of Herr Steinitz.” The Western Daily Press says Steinitz gave his opponents first move but that was not the case with this game. Burt was vice-president of the Clifton Chess Association and the author of an 1883 history of chess in Bristol.

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Nf6 3. f4 d6 4. d3 Nc6 5. Nf3 Bg4 6. c3 Na5 7. f×e5 B×f3 8. Q×f3 N×c4 9. e×f6 Ne5 10. Qg3 Q×f6 11. d4 Ng6 12. Bg5 Qe6 13. 0–0 f6 14. Bf4 Be7 15. Nd2 N×f4 16. R×f4 0–0 17. d5 Qd7 18. Nf3 c5 19. Nh4 Kh8 20. Rg4 g6 21. N×g6† h×g6 22. Qh3† Kg7 23. R×g6† K×g6 24. Q×d7 Kf7 25. e5 f×e5 26. Rf1† 1–0

216

Steinitz in London

This famous photograph, almost certainly taken on 14 June 1873 during Henry Francis Gastineau’s garden party was first published in The Field, CXVI (31 December 1910) page 1280. The seated players (from left) are evidently Steinitz, Gastineau himself, and Cecil de Vere, but many mistakes have been made in identifying the standing figures. As named by Hoffer, they are (from left): B. F. Bussy, Bernhard Horwitz, William Norwood Potter, J. J. Löwenthal, Henry I. Coburn, J. H. Blackburne, and Dr. William R. Ballard. A jocular essay was written about 1880 by Edward Thomas Gastineau (brother of H.F.), for private circulation only, entitled Under the Mulberry Tree; or, Holiday Chess at Checkham, in which he quoted a poem by one of those present, Charles Murton, which confirms the identifications.

390. Steinitz–Amateur Queen’s knight odds, Simpson’s Divan, London, June 1873 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 311) says this game was played at the Simpson’s Divan in June 1873, but this author has been unable to trace his source.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. e5 c5 4. c3 c×d4 5. c×d4 Bb4† 6. Ke2 Nc6 7. f4 Nh6 8. Nf3 Nf5 9. Kf2 0–0 10. h4 b6 11. g4 Nf×d4 12. a3 N×f3 13. a×b4 N×h4 14. g5 Nf5 15. Bd3 N×b4 16. Bb1 b5 17. Ra3 Qb6† 18. Be3 d4 19. B×d4 Qc6 20. R×h7 K×h7 21. Qh5† Kg8 22. Rh3 Nh6 23. g×h6 Bb7 24. Bh7† K×h7 25. h×g7† K×g7 26. Qg5 mate (1–0). The following two alternation games were annotated by “J. de S.” and published by the Illustrated London News on 1 November 1873. In the replies to correspondents in that column on 27 September, there is a line saying “J. de S., Exeter.—1. They shall have early attention.” This was almost

certainly a reference to the games below, and J. de S. must be John de Soyres (1849–1905), whose family home was in Exeter and who had sent games to Staunton in the past. In early 1873, he was the president of the Cambridge University Chess Club and had played first board for them in the match with Oxford University. He later became a clergyman and eventually immigrated to Canada. In 1903 he competed unsuccessfully in an international tournament at Hilversum in the Netherlands. He introduced the games as follows: A CHESS PARTY. Dear Mr. Editor,—I send you two alternation games—that is, games in which the allies on each side move without being allowed to consult on their moves. The combatants were the Austrian champion, Herr S. and your humble servant on the one side, and Mr. P. (one of the strongest English players) and Dr. B. on the other side.31

Clearly “Herr S” was Steinitz, and P was Potter (his partner in the correspondence games with Vienna), while Dr. B was probably the well-known amateur William Ballard. No

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873 definite date or place for this party is known but some deductions can be made. The party was surely held in London (where the other three participants lived) either during a university vacation or a weekend during term. At any rate, it must have been before the Vienna Congress since Steinitz was not yet back in England on September 24th which would have been Staunton’s deadline for his reply to De Soyres. A possible occasion for the games is Henry F. Gastineau’s garden party in Peckham, south London, at which Ballard, Potter, and Steinitz were definitely present, and De Soyres may have been. That was on Saturday, 14 June when the famous photograph was taken, but if so the games must have been before meal-time since Ballard and Potter (along with Blackburne, de Vere and some amateurs) were involved in a consultation game that was said to have begun at 6:30 p.m. and not finished until after 3 a.m.

391. Steinitz and J. de Soyres–W. N. Potter and

217

I.L.N., 1 November 1873. Notes by John de Soyres; in this game, Potter and Steinitz moved first.

1. a3 f5 2. g3 Nf6 3. d4 e6 4. Nc3?! Be7 5. Bg2 d5 6. Bf4 c5 7. B×b8 R×b8 8. e3 0–0 9. Nge2 c4 10. 0–0 b5 11. f3 a5 12. Nb1 b4 13. c3 b×a3 14. b×a3 Rb2 15. Nd2 Qb6 16. e4 f×e4 “This very bad move had cost me some labour. I thought that the subsequent posting of the Kt at K6th would be advantageous, but Herr S pointed out that it simply liberated White’s game and that our policy was to attack their weak QR Pawn.” 17.  f×e4 Ng4 18.  R×f8† B×f8 19.  e×d5 Ne3 20. Qc1 e×d5 21. B×d5† N×d5 22. N×c4 Qa6 23. Q×b2 Q×c4 24. Rf1 B×a3?? “Not noticing that our opponents threaten mate when they take the Bishop. Of course we now gracefully resigned.” (1–0)

Visit to The Hague

Dr. W. Ballard Alternation games (1), London, June? 1873 Vienna Opening (C25) I.L.N., 1 November 1873; notes by John de Soyres. His tone is self-mocking and Steinitz was perhaps in joking mood, but the champion criticized not only his partner’s moves 5 and 9 but also 25 and 27, all of which the computer approves.

1. e4 “I claimed to play the first move, so to leave the choice of opening to my powerful partner. Dr. B. also was to precede on the other side with the same modest object.” 1. … e5 “At this move Mr. P, who believes only in close games, moaned piteously and asked his colleague what induced him to play so suicidally. He was sure now White would win.” 2. Nc3 Bc5 “With the remark ‘We must try to prolong the game as far as possible.’” 3. f4 e×f4 “At this reply on the part of the Doctor, Herr S smiled grimly and immediately moved.” 4. Nf3 g5 5. d4 “I thought this was a very good move but was much crestfallen when informed by Herr S. that 5. h4 would have been far better.” 5. … Bb6 6. h4 g4 7. Ne5 d6 8. Nc4 Qe7 9. N×b6 “Dear Mr. Editor, you can imagine my feelings on being told that almost any move on the board would have been more useful.” 9.  … a×b6 10.  B×f4 c6 11. Bd3 Na6 12. Qe2 h5 13. g3 Be6 14. d5 Bd7 15. 0–0 Nc5 16.  e5 N×d3 17.  Q×d3 d×e5 18.  d6 Qe6 19.  B×e5 Rh6 20. Bf4 0–0–0 21. B×h6 “Here I was sternly rebuked for not first attacking the Queen with 21. Rae1.” 21. … N×h6 22. Rae1 Qg6 23. Q×g6 f×g6 24. Rf6 Bf5 25. Na4 b5 26. Nb6† Kb8 27. c4 b×c4 28. N×c4 Ng8 29. Rf7 Ka7 30. Re3 Kb8 31. Rb3 Bc8 32. Na5 R×d6 33. Rf8 1–0

392. W. N. Potter and Dr. W. Ballard–Steinitz and J. de Soyres Alternation games (2), London, June? 1873 Anderssen’s Opening (A00)

The Dutch chess magazine Sissa (and also, briefly, some newspapers) reported on Steinitz’s short visit to The Hague en route for Vienna. The main event took place at the hotel Het Keizershof (literally “The Emperor’s Court”) on the evening of 9 July, when Steinitz’s hosts were the chess club Discendo Discimus, which because of royal patronage is nowadays known as the “Koninklijke D.D.” Steinitz was, according to Sissa, “welcomed by a cordial speech from the Chairman and honoured by a nicely decorated Honorary Certificate of the society.”32 H. J. G. M. Scholten, whose doctoral thesis made much use of the archives of that club (as well as of Sissa), discovered that a meeting of the club on 30 June had decided to spend 40 Dutch florins on new chess sets of the Staunton design and another 20 florins for the hire of this larger venue for Steinitz’s visit. The meeting also decided to offer honorary membership of the club to Steinitz and to three Dutch players including C. E. A. Dupré from Rotterdam.33 After the presentation, Steinitz played simultaneously against eight opponents: seven ordinary members of the chess club were joined by Dupré. Sissa named the local players as follows: W. Kamphuizen, E. Breul, J. C. Th. Vigelius, J. Andriessen Jr., Vogel, A. Stolte, and H. Meijers; the Algemeen Handelsblad of 12 July also named the opponents but had “Bruhl” instead of Breul. Sissa says the simul lasted two hours, at the end of which Steinitz had won six games and drew with Dupré and Kamphuizen. Five of the games have not been found: those against Vigelius, Andriessen, Vogel, Stolte, and Meijers.

393. Steinitz–Dr. E. Breul Discendo Discimus simul, The Hague (1), 9 July 1873 Lopez Opening (C20) Bachmann (game 341) named the opponent “Dr. B,” following Sissa (1874), pages 111–112.

218

Steinitz in London

1. e4 e5 2. c3 d6 3. Nf3 h6 4. d4 Nc6 5. Bc4 Na5 6. Qa4† c6 7. Bd3 b5 8. Qc2 Qc7 9. a4 a6 10. Na3 Be6 11. a×b5 Nb3 12.  Rb1 N×c1 13.  R×c1 a×b5 14.  d5 Bd7 15.  d×c6 B×c6 16. N×b5 Qb6 17. Na3 Nf6 18. Nc4 Qc7 19. 0–0 Be7 20. Ne3 Bd7 21. c4 0–0 22. Nd5 N×d5 23. e×d5 f5 24. Nd2 Bg5 25. Rcd1 B×d2 26. Q×d2 Rfb8 27. b4 Qb6 28. Rb1 Ra4 29. c5 d×c5 30. b×c5 Qc7 31. c6 Bc8 32. d6 Qa7 33. R×b8 Q×b8 34. d7 Ba6 35. B×a6 Rd4 36. Qa5 Qd6 37. Bb5 Rd2 38. c7 1–0

394. Steinitz–W. Kamphuizen Discendo Discimus simul, The Hague (4), 9 July 1873 Bishop’s Opening (C24) Bachmann (game 343) from Sissa (1873), pages 206–210.

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Nf6 3. f4 N×e4 4. d3 Qh4† 5. g3 N×g3 6. Nf3 Qh3 7. B×f7† Kd8 8. Rg1 Nf5 9. f×e5 g6 10. Qe2 Be7 11. Nc3 c6 12. Ne4 Rf8 13. Neg5 Qh5 14. Bb3 Nh4 15. N×h4 Q×h4† 16. Rg3 d5 17. e×d6 B×d6 18. Qg2 Re8† 19. Ne4 B×g3† 20. h×g3 Qh3 21. Bg5† Re7 22. Qf2 Qf5 23. Qf4 Bd7 24. Qd6 Q×g5 25. Kf2 Qe5 26. Qb4 b6 27. Rf1 c5 28. Qd2 Nc6 29.  Kg2 Kc7 30.  Rf6 Bf5 31.  Qf2 B×e4† 32.  d×e4 Q×e4† 33. Kh3 Qe2 34. Qf4† Qe5 35. Bd5 Q×f4 36. R×c6† Kd7 37. g×f4 Rc8 38. Rf6 Ke8 39. c4 Rd8 40. Bc6† Rdd7 41. Kg3 Kd8 42. B×d7 K×d7 43. Rf8 Ke6 44. a3 Rf7 45. Re8† Kf5 46. Re5† Kf6 47. b4 c×b4 48. a×b4 h6 49. b5 Re7 50. Rd5 g5 51. Kg4 g×f4 52. K×f4 ½–½

395. Steinitz–C. E. A. Dupré Discendo Discimus simul, The Hague (8), 9 July 1873 King’s Gambit (C37) Bachmann (game 342) from Sissa (1873), pages 172–175.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. Ne5 Qh4† 6. Kf1 Nh6 7. d4 f3 8. Nc3 d6 9. Nd3 Nc6 10. g3 Qd8 11. Be3 Bg7 12. Nf2 Ng8 13. h3 h5 14. Nd5 Nce7 15. c3 N×d5 16. B×d5 Ne7 17. Bc4 Ng6 18. Qb3 Qe7 19. Re1 c6 20. d5 Ne5 21. Bd4 f6 22. d×c6 b×c6 23. Nd3 N×d3 24. B×d3 Qb7 25. Qa4 Bd7 26. Qa3 Qc7 27. Be3 Be6 28. Bf4 Rd8 29. Rh2 Bh6 30. h×g4 B×f4 31. g×f4 B×g4 32. Qa4 Kf8 33. Qd4 Rh6 34. a4 Qd7 35.  Kf2 Qb7 36.  b4 Qb6 37.  Q×b6 a×b6 38.  Rg1 Kg7 39. Bc2 Rg6 40. Bd1 Ra8 ½–½. Steinitz proposed a draw. He intended to play 41. Ke3 though Sissa then gives 41. … Re8 with some chances to win. The Sissa report goes on to say that the evening was completed with a nice supper that lasted until late at night in lively fashion, and where many toasts were proposed to the Bohemian master, to the chairman of the society, the society itself, etc. The next day, in the afternoon, Steinitz played four games simultaneously, and won them all, although one game was hard-fought and not decided for a long time. In the evening, Steinitz played four opponents simultaneously, taking the Black pieces in each game this time; three of these games survive. He won two, lost one, and offered a draw in the

fourth. However it was not accepted and following a mistake by the opponent, Steinitz won that game and also another played afterwards against Mr. Dupré. Sissa concluded its report by saying: That he maintained his reputation here again is apparent from what was just described. The ease and the speed with which he plays make him recognisable as a strong practicing and very skilful player, who also combines solidity with elegance. Of utmost importance was the way in which after the battle he introduced his new chess friends into the secrets of the correspondence games between Vienna and London. One of them he demonstrated completely, showing every time the main variations for each side, among them many that can be considered brilliant and which therefore repeatedly triggered cries of surprise and admiration among the spectators. It is however a pity that so many lovers of the game in our country have missed such a rare opportunity to measure themselves against such great talent. Of the many invitations that had been sent out by the society, only very modest use has been made! That many have their excuses goes without saying, but we are afraid that others were caught by the fear of losing a game. Whereas one should in general understand that the gain and honour of losing against a good quality opponent is higher than winning against a mediocre one!

On the 11th of July Steinitz traveled on to Vienna for the international congress, but he paid a second brief visit to the capital of the Netherlands in September.

396. Steinitz–C. E. A. Dupré Casual game, The Hague, 10 July 1873 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 344); Sissa (1873), page 178; this was either one of four casual games Steinitz played before his second simul in The Hague or the extra game played at the end of the evening.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 Qh4† 5. Ke2 d5 6.  e×d5 Bg4† 7.  Nf3 0–0–0 8.  d×c6 Bc5 9.  c×b7† Kb8 10. Nb5 a6? 11. Kd2 a×b5? 12. N×h4 B×d1 13. K×d1 R×d4† 14. Bd3. … and White won in a few moves (1–0).

397. C. E. A. Dupré–Steinitz The Hague 4-board simul, 10 July 1873 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann (game 351) has the occasion, date, and two moves wrong. We rely on Sissa (1873), pages 175–177 which says this was one of four played in The Hague on the afternoon of 10 July. The game was also in The Era, 19 October 1873 but with a variant score.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  Bc4 Bc5 4.  c3 Nf6 5.  d4 e×d4 6. c×d4 Bb4† 7. Bd2 B×d2† 8. Nb×d2 d5 9. e×d5 N×d5 10. Qb3 Nce7 11. 0–0 0–0 12. Ne4 c6 13. Rad1 Ng6 14. Ne5 The Era and Bachmann had 14. Ne1; on move 21 the two versions coincide. 14. … Ngf4 15. Qf3 Be6 16. Bb3 a5 17. a3 Qb6 18. Nc5 Rad8 19. Rd2 Qc7 20. Ne4 f6 21. Nd3 N×d3 22. R×d3 Nf4 23. B×e6† N×e6 24. Rfd1 Qb6 25. R3d2 Bachmann incorrectly had 25. R1d2. 25. … R×d4 26. R×d4 N×d4

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873

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27. Qe3 Rd8? Era: “Not foreseeing Mr. Dupré’s clever rejoinder. He should have played 27. … c5.” 28. Nd6 c5 29. R×d4 1–0

398. J. IJzerman–Steinitz The Hague 4-board simul, 10 July 1873 Bishop’s Opening (C23) Bachmann (game 345) names White as “Hermann” but Sissa (1873), pages 181–182, shows that he was J. M. IJzerman (the diphthong IJ being roughly equivalent to the English letter Y) and that this was one of four games played in The Hague on 10 July.

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 f5 3. e×f5 Nf6 4. Nf3 e4 5. Ne5 d5 6. Bb3 B×f5 7. d3 Bd6 8. Bf4 Qe7 9. d4 c5 10. c3 0–0 11. 0–0 Nc6 12. N×c6 b×c6 13. B×d6 Q×d6 14. h3 Rab8 15. d×c5 Q×c5 16. Nd2 a5 17. a4 e3 18. f×e3 Q×e3† 19. Rf2 Ne4 20. N×e4 B×e4 21. Qf1 R×b3 0–1

399. B. Van der Haak–Steinitz The Hague 4-board simul, 10 July 1873 Irregular Opening (A00) Bachmann (game 346); Sissa (1873), pages 179–181, one of four games played on the afternoon of 10 July.

1. g3 e5 2. Bg2 d5 3. e3 f5 4. d3 Nf6 5. b3 Bd6 6. Bb2 0–0 7. Nd2 c6 8. Ne2 f4 9. e×f4 e×f4 10. 0–0 Bg4 11. f3 Bh5 12. g4 Bg6 13. c4 B×d3 14. Re1 Na6 15. h3 d×c4 16. N×c4 Bc5† 17. Kh2 N×g4† 18. h×g4 Qh4† 19. Bh3 B×e2 20. R×e2 Qg3† 21. Kh1 Q×f3† 22. Bg2 Q×g4 23. Bd5† c×d5 24. Q×d5† Kh8 25. Rg2 Qh3† 26. Rh2 Qf5 27. Q×b7 Qf7 28. Qe4 Qf5 29. Qb7 Qf7 30. Qe4 Qf5 31. Qb7 Nc7 32. Rg1 B×g1 33. Q×c7 Bd4 34. B×d4 Qe4† 35. Rg2 Q×d4 36. Ne5 Qd1† 37. Kh2 Qh5† 38. Kg1 g5 39. Rh2 Qd1† 40. Kf2 Qd2† 41. Kg1 Qe3† 42. Rf2 Rac8 0–1

Emperor’s Cup, Vienna 1873 Steinitz returned to Vienna, after an absence of 11 years, for the Emperor’s Cup tournament, which began on 21 July 1873. The occasion was the silver jubilee of Emperor Franz Josef of Austro-Hungary. This, the greatest chess tournament ever held so far, saw the realization of the plan which Kolisch had hoped to carry out previously at Baden-Baden, based on mini-matches. Many of the rules were the same but the “default time” for late arrivals at the board was reduced to one hour. Karl (or Carl) Pitschel withdrew after eight matches, forfeiting against Rosenthal, Paulsen and Meitner; prizes were unaffected. The tournament book, Der erste Wiener internationale Schachkongress 1873, edited by Hermann Lehner and Constantin Schwede, was published the following year; it is henceforth cited as L&S. The pagination in the B.C.M. reprint, which omitted all the preliminary material, is different, so the game numbers are provided instead.

Wilhelm Steinitz, the picture accompanying his profile in the Leipzig Illustrirte Zeitung, 5 July 1873.

The 12 assembled masters played best-of-three against each other, and anyone who achieved a 2–0 score earned himself a rest day. The original plan was for the third game, when required, to be played on the same day as the second but this rule was changed, although it greatly protracted the duration of the event. The overall score was determined by the number of matches won (or drawn) not by the total scores of individual games. Steinitz greatly benefited from the minimatch system because he won eight of them 2–0, including a 14-game winning streak following a draw in his third game with Meitner. A drawback of this system, never again used, was that it was hard for a player to recover if he lost the first decisive game, especially if he had Black twice out of three games against that opponent. Blackburne, by defeating Steinitz in the second round of matches, put himself in a strong position to win the tournament. Probably he tired, because in most cases it took him three games to win his mini-matches. Even so, he would have won first prize if he could only have drawn his last match with Rosenthal, but it turned out otherwise and he failed to do himself justice in the play-off. A consultation game was played on Thursday, 17 July, billed as London versus Germany; Kolisch presented a prize of 30 florin for the winning team. The Westminster Papers commented: “The whole game is quite unworthy of the

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Steinitz in London

eminent players engaged in it. But most of them had just arrived in Vienna, were fatigued, and possibly not very enthusiastic about Chess on the 19th July.” There are three versions of the early move order: 1. … e6 with 10. … a6 (the Austrian and L&W version), 1. … e6 with 10. … Ne7 (I.L.N. and Bachmann), and 1. … f5 with 10. … Ne7 (Bird, following W.P.). Bird was often an “unreliable narrator” and the first version given by Lehner and Löwenthal should be preferred to the other English sources.34 Bachmann and Pickard followed I.L.N.

400. Steinitz, J. H. Blackburne and H. E. Bird– K. E. A. Anderssen, L. Paulsen and S. Rosenthal Consultation game, Vienna, 19 July 1873 English Opening (A13) Bachmann (game 312); Oesterreichische Schachzeitung, II (August 1873), pages 229–230; W.P., VI (August 1873), page 75; L&W, XVI (2 August 1873), page 97; I.L.N., LXIII (9 August 1873); D.S.Z., XXVIII (August 1873), pages 250–251; Bird, Chess Masterpieces, addenda on pages 138–139; Von Gottschall on Anderssen (game 643), pages 430–431; Blackburne (game 177).

1. c4 e6 Bird’s version 1. … f5 2. e3 e6 is just a transposition. 2. e3 f5 3. Nf3 Nf6 4. a3 c5 5. Nc3 Nc6 6. d4 c×d4 7. e×d4 Bd6 8. Bd3 b6 9. 0–0 0–0 10. Re1 Ne7 Bird’s version went 10. … a6 11. b4 Ne7 12. Qb3 Ng6 13. d5 and in Chess Masterpieces he wrote, “At this, and the preceding move, Mr. Bird suggested B to K Kt5 [Bg5].” 11. d5 Ng6 12. b4 a6 13. Qb3? Ng4 14. h3 N4e5 15. N×e5 N×e5 16. Bf1 Qh4 17. Be3 Rf6 18. f4 Ng6 19. Ne2 N×f4 20. B×f4 B×f4 21. g3? W.P.: 21. Qf3 would have given first players at least an equal game. 21. … Rg6 22. Kh2 Be5 23. Bg2 Bb7 24. Qe3?? 24. c5 (suggested in W.P.) would also have been refuted by 24.  … B×g3! 25. N×g3 f4 26. Ne4 B×d5 but White could have fought on by 24. Rf1. 24. … B×g3† 25. N×g3 f4 26. Qe4 Q×g3† 27. Kh1 b5 28. Rad1 b×c4 Bird and some other sources say White resigned here. 29. Rf1 Rf8 0–1. The extra move pair is in L&S, Gottschall and in Bachmann.

401. K. Pitschel–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (1.1), 21 July 1873 King’s Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 313); L&S (game 3).

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bd6 8. d4 Nh5 9. 0–0 f3 10. Bb5† c6 11. Qe1 0–0 12. d×c6 Qb6 13. Bc4 Q×d4† 14. Qe3 Q×e5 15. Q×e5 B×e5 16. g×f3 N×c6 17. c3 g3 18. f4 Bc7 19. f5 Bb6† 20. Kg2 Bf2 0–1

402. Steinitz–K. Pitschel Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (1.2), 22 July 1873 French Defense (C01) Bachmann (game 314); L&S (game 9).

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e×d5 e×d5 5. Nf3 h6 6. Bd3 Nf6 7. 0–0 0–0 8. Ne2 Nc6 9. Ng3 Bd6 10. c3 Re8 11. Nh4 Ne4 12. Ngf5 Qf6 13. Qh5 Bf8 14. g3 g5 (see diagram) 1–0

After 14. … g5

rDbDrgkD 0p0wDpDw wDnDw1w0 DwDpDN0Q wDw)nDwH Dw)BDw)w P)wDw)w) $wGwDRIw

Black lost on time. His position was not as good as was claimed in some Vienna newspapers.

403. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (2.1), 24 July 1873 Ruy Lopez (C60) Bachmann (game 315); L&S (game 19); Graham (game 25); Blackburne (game 181); The Field (de Vere), 2 August 1873, reprinted in C.P.C. (October 1873), pages 334–335. Also in L&W, 2 August; W.P., VI (September 1873), page 110. On 31 August, The Era published the two games between Blackburne and Steinitz in the main tournament, apparently under the impression that these were the play-off games, and saying Blackburne had won the tournament.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nge7 De Vere: “We do not understand how a player of Herr Steinitz’s strength could adopt such a miserable defence.”35 4.  d4 e×d4 5.  N×d4 N×d4 6. Q×d4 Nc6 7. Qd5 Be7 8. Nc3 Bf6 9. Bd2 0–0 10. 0–0–0 a6 11. Be2 d6 12. f4 g6 13. Qd3 Bg7 14. h4! h5 15. g4 Bird in Modern Chess (game 62), page 80: “The commencement of an attack which is sustained with Mr. Blackburne’s wellknown vigour to the end.” 15. … h×g4 16. h5 Be6 17. h×g6 f×g6 18. e5 Qe8 19. Nd5 Qf7 20. Nf6† B×f6 21. e×f6 Bf5 22. Qg3 Q×a2 23. Bc3 Kf7 24. Rh7† Ke8 25. B×g4 Be4 26. Qe3 d5 27. Qc5 1–0

404. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (2.2), 25 July 1873 French Defense (C11) Bachmann (game 316); L&S (game 25); Blackburne (game 182); The Field, 2 August 1873.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bd3 c5 5. e×d5 c×d4 6. Bb5† Bd7 7. Q×d4 B×b5 8. N×b5 N×d5 9. Ne2 Nc6 10. Qa4 a6 11. Nbd4 Nb6 12. N×c6 N×a4 13. N×d8 R×d8 14. 0–0 Be7 15. b3 Bf6 16. Rb1 Nc3 17. N×c3 B×c3 18. Ba3 f6 19. Rfd1 Kf7 20. Kf1 Ba5 21. Bd6 Rd7 22. Rd3 Rc8 23. b4 Bd8 24. Rb2 e5 25. Bc5 R×d3 26. c×d3 b6 27. Be3 b5 28. Ke2 Be7 29. Bd2 Ke6 30. Kd1 Kd5 ½–½.

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873 The Westminster Papers had been sent the score without identifying the players. Duffy commented that the players who contested this game “will probably be grateful to find that their names could not be given to the world. The object of both seems to have been that of getting all the pieces off the board, and bringing about a draw, with the smallest possible expenditure of brain power.”36 That outcome naturally suited Blackburne better. Also de Vere in The Field, commenting on White’s 15th move, observed that “If Herr Steinitz had played to draw (which would have been against his chance) he could not have succeeded more effectually.” L&S have a comment at move 17 to the effect that Black plays so outrageously for exchanges and White with so little energy that it is hard to imagine that later they would be playing off for the first prize.

405. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (2.3), 26 July 1873 Ruy Lopez (C60) Bachmann (game 317); L&S (game 31); The Field, 2 August 1873; L&W, 9 August 1873; Blackburne (game 183).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nge7 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 N×d4 6. Q×d4 Nc6 7. B×c6 b×c6 8. 0–0 f6 9. e5 d5 10. e×d6 c×d6 11. Re1† Be7 12. Bf4 Kf8 13. Nc3 d5 14. Re2 Kf7 15. Rae1 Re8 16. Qd3 g6 17. Qg3 Bf5 18. Bh6 Qb6 19. b3 Qa5 20. Bd2 g5 De Vere: “If this is not midsummer madness, it is something very like it.” 21. Qf3 B×c2? 22. B×g5 Be4 23. N×e4 d×e4 24.  Q×e4 Q×g5 25.  Q×h7† Kf8 26.  R×e7 R×e7 27. Q×e7† Kg8 28. Re3 1–0

406. M. Fleissig–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (3.1), 28 July 1873 Ruy Lopez (C60) Bachmann (game 318); L&S (game 35).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nge7 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 N×d4 6. Q×d4 Nc6 7. B×c6 b×c6 8. Nc3 Qe7 9. 0–0 f6 10. Bf4 d6 11. Rfe1 Qf7 12. e5 f×e5 13. B×e5 Kd8 14. Rad1 Bd7 15. Bg3 Rg8 16. Ne4 Kc8 17. Qa4 a6 18. Qa5 Qf5 19. Qc3 Be7 20. f3 g5 21. Nc5 Re8 22. N×d7 K×d7 23. Qe5 Q×e5 24. B×e5 Bf8 25. Bc3 c5 26. R×e8 R×e8 27. Re1 R×e1† 28. B×e1 c4 29. Kf2 Ke6 30. Bd2 Be7 31. f4 g×f4 32. B×f4 ½–½

407. Steinitz–M. Fleissig Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (3.2), 29 July 1873 French Defense (C11) Bachmann (game 319); L&S (game 41); W.P., VI (September 1873), page 92.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. e5 Nfd7 5. Nce2 c5 6. c3 Nc6 7. f4 Qb6 8. Nf3 Be7 9. Ng3 Nf8 10. Bd3 Bd7 11. Bc2 0–0–0 12.  d×c5 B×c5 13.  Qe2 a5 14.  a3 Qa7 15.  Rb1 a4 16. Nh5 g6 17. Nf6 h6 18. N×d7 K×d7 19. Qb5 Ra8 20. B×a4 Q×a4 21. Q×b7† Ke8 22. b3 Qa6 23. Q×a6 R×a6 24. a4 Ba7

221

25. Bd2 Nd7 26. Ke2 Ke7 27. Ra1 Na5 28. Rhb1 Rb8 29. b4 Nc4 30. a5 Rb7 31. Kd3 Nb8 32. Bc1 Kd7 33. Nd2 N×d2 34. B×d2 Kc6 35. c4 d×c4† 36. K×c4 Rb5 37. Rb3 Nd7 38. Rd3 Bb8 39. R×d7 R×b4† 40. B×b4 K×d7 41. Kb5 Ra8 42. a6 Ba7 43. Rd1† Ke8 44. Kc6 Be3 45. Ra1 Kd8 46. Ba5† Kc8 47. Bb6 B×f4 48. Rd1 Bg5 49. a7 f5 50. Rd7 1–0

408. M. Fleissig–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (3.3), 30 July 1873 Ruy Lopez (C60) Bachmann (game 320); L&S (game 47).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nge7 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 N×d4 6. Q×d4 Nc6 7. B×c6 b×c6 8. 0–0 d6 9. Nc3 Be6 10. e5 d5 11. f4 c5 12. Qa4† Bd7 13. Qa6 c6 14. f5 Qc8 15. Qd3 Be7 16. Bd2 Qb7 17. e6 Bc8 18. Rae1 Bf6 19. Qg3 f×e6 20. Qd6? Be7 ½–½ The draw agreement provoked an official protest from some competitors. Dr. Fleissig, who had been close to winning around move 16, said that after his mistake on move 20 he had no more winning chances. Although by agreeing to a draw he had in effect conceded the match to Steinitz, the result stood since it appeared no tournament rule had been broken. Had Fleissig won this game, Steinitz would only have tied their match and not have earned a play-off with Blackburne.

409. Dr. P. Meitner–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (4.1), 31 July 1873 Ruy Lopez (C77) Bachmann (game 321); L&S (game 54).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. Nc3 d6 6. h3 g6 7. d3 Bg7 8. 0–0 0–0 9. Bg5 h6 10. Be3 Ne8 11. B×c6 b×c6 12. d4 f6 13. Qe2 e×d4 14. N×d4 c5 15. Qc4† Kh7 16.  Ne6 B×e6 17.  Q×e6 Rb8 18.  Rab1 f5 19.  e×f5 R×f5 20. Nd5 Re5 21. Qf7 Rf5 22. Qe6 Re5 ½–½

410. Steinitz–Dr. P. Meitner Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (4.2), 1 August 1873 French Defense (C11) Bachmann (game 322); L&S (game 60); W.P., VI, page 94.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. e5 Nfd7 5. Nce2 c5 6. c3 Nc6 7. f4 c×d4 8. c×d4 g6 9. Nf3 Qb6 10. a3 Ndb8 11. Nc3 Bd7 12. b4 a6 13. Be3 Na7 14. Rc1 Be7 15. Bd3 Nb5 16. Na4 Qd8 17. Qb3 0–0 18. Nc5 B×c5 19. d×c5 a5 20. a4 Nc7 21. b5 Ne8 22. Nd4 f6 23. Nf3 f5 24. Nd4 Rf7 25. h4 h5 26. Bf2 Bc8 27. Rh3 Ng7 28. Be2 Nd7 29. Rhc3 Nf8 30. c6 Ne8 31. b6 Qe7 32. Rc5 Rh7 33. g3 Rg7 34. Be3 b×c6 35. N×c6 Qd7 36. Bb5 Ba6 37. B×a6 R×a6 38. Nb8 Qb7 39. N×a6 Q×a6 40. Rc8 d4 41. B×d4 Re7 42. R1c6 This was the queen’s rook as W.P. says; Pickard’s book and database had 42. R8c6. 42. … Qb7 43. Bc5 Rd7 44. B×f8 K×f8 45. Q×e6 1–0

222

Steinitz in London

411. Dr. P. Meitner–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (4.3), 2 August 1873 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 323); L&S (game 65).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 Bb6 5. a4 a6 6. a5 Ba7 7. 0–0 Nf6 8. b5 a×b5 9. B×b5 N×e4 10. Qe2 Nd6 11. B×c6 d×c6 12. Q×e5† Be6 13. Q×g7 Kd7 14. Bb2 Rg8 15. Ne5† Kc8 16. Qh6 Nf5 17. Qf4 Nd4 18. Kh1 Qd5 19. f3 N×c2 20. Nc3 Qd4 21. Ra4 Q×f4 22. R×f4 Bc5 23. Rc1 Nb4 24. Rh4 Bd6 25. Nc4 B×c4 26. R×c4… “And the game was declared a draw after a few moves on both sides.” (½–½).

412. S. Rosenthal–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (5.1), 4 August 1873 Three Knights’ Game (C46) Bachmann (game 324); L&S (game 71); W.P., VI (September 1873), page 94; Modern Chess Instructor (Part 1), pages 52–53; Neishtadt, pages 88–93.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. Nf3 g6 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 Bg7 6. Be3 Nge7 7. Bc4 d6 8. 0–0 0–0 9. f4 Na5 10. Bd3 d5 11.  e×d5 N×d5 12.  N×d5 Q×d5 13.  c3 Rd8 14.  Qc2 Nc4 15. B×c4? White should have played 15. Bf2 (not mentioned by Steinitz). The theme of the game subsequently is Steinitz’s exploitation of the power of the bishop pair. 15. … Q×c4 16. Qf2 c5 17. Nf3 b6 18. Ne5 Qe6 19. Qf3 Ba6 20. Rfe1 f6 21. Ng4 h5 22. Nf2 Qf7 23. f5 g5 24. Rad1 Bb7 25. Qg3 Rd5 26. R×d5 Q×d5 27. Rd1 Q×f5 28. Qc7 Bd5 29. b3 Re8 30. c4 Bf7 31. Bc1 Re2 32. Rf1 Qc2 33. Qg3 Q×a2 34. Qb8† Kh7 35. Qg3 Bg6 36. h4 g4 37. Nd3? Q×b3 38. Qc7 Q×d3 0–1 This was the start of Steinitz’s 16-game winning streak. In all tournament and match games it extended to 25: including the seven against Blackburne in 1876 and the first two rounds of Vienna 1882.

413. Steinitz–S. Rosenthal Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (5.2), 5 August 1873 English Opening (A20) Bachmann (game 325); L&S (game 77).

1. c4 e5 2. e3 Nf6 3. a3 d5 4. c×d5 N×d5 5. Nf3 Bd6 6. Nc3 N×c3 7. b×c3 0–0 8. d4 e×d4 9. c×d4 c5 10. d5 Nd7 11. Bb2 Nf6 12. Bc4 a6 13. a4 Bf5 14. 0–0 Rb8 15. a5 h6 16. Nd2 Ng4 17. h3 Nh2 18. Re1 B×h3 19. g×h3 Qg5† 20. Kh1 Qh4 21. Bf1 N×f1 22. N×f1 Q×h3† 23. Kg1 f5 24. f4 Kh7 25. Re2 g5 26. Rh2 Qg4† 27. Rg2 Q×d1 28. R×d1 g4 29. Be5 Rbd8 30. Ng3 Kg6 31. Rb2 B×e5 32. f×e5 Rfe8 33. Rb6† Kg5 34. e6 h5 35. Ne2 h4 36. Nf4 h3 37. R×b7 Kh4 38. Rh7† Kg3 39. Rf1 1–0

414. L. Paulsen–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (6.1), 7 August 1873 Vienna Game (C26) Bachmann (game 326); L&S (game 87); W.P., VI (October

1873), page 109; Renette, Louis Paulsen (game 430), page 240.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. g3 Bc5 4. Bg2 Nf6 5. d3 a6 6. Nf3 d6 7. 0–0 h6 8. Be3 B×e3 9. f×e3 Nh7 10. Nd5 Ne7 11. Nd2 Be6 12. c4 c6 13. N×e7 Q×e7 14. d4 0–0 15. d5 Bd7 16. Nf3 c5 17. Qd2 b5! 18. b3 Rfb8 19. Rab1 Nf6 20. Nh4 g6 21. h3 Rb6 22. Kh2 Rab8 23. c×b5 a×b5 24. Rf2 Be8 25. Rbf1 Nd7 26. Qe2 Ra8 27. Bf3 Nf6 28. Bg2 Nh7 29. Qg4 Ng5 30. Nf5?! g×f5 31.  e×f5 f6 32.  h4 h5! 33.  Qe2 Nh7 34.  Bf3 Rba6 35. Ra1 e4 36. B×h5 Qe5 37. B×e8 Q×a1 38. B×b5 R×a2 39.  Qg4† Kh8 40.  Be2 Qe1 41.  Kg2 Rg8 42.  Qh5 Qd2 43. Qh6 Q×d5 44. g4 R×e2 45. R×e2 Q×f5 0–1

415. Steinitz–L. Paulsen Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (6.2), 8 August 1873 English Opening (A41) Bachmann (game 327); L&S (game 93); W.P., VI (October 1873), page 111; Renette, Louis Paulsen (game 431), pages 240–241, points out that 21. Rd1! would have been decisive.

1. c4 d6 2. d4 g6 3. Nc3 Bg7 4. Nf3 f5 5. g3 Nh6?! 6. h4 Nf7 7. h5 e6 8. e4 Nd7 9. Bg2 a6 10. Be3 Nf6 11. h×g6 h×g6 12. R×h8† N×h8 13. e5 Ng4 14. Bg5 Qd7 15. Qe2 Nf7 16. Bh4 c5 17. d×c5 d×e5 18. Ng5! N×g5 19. B×g5 Qc7 20. Ne4! Kf8 21. 0–0–0?! Bd7 22. f3 f×e4? 23. f×g4 Be8 24. Qf2† Kg8 25.  B×e4 Rc8 26.  b3 Bf8 27.  Qf6 Bg7 28.  Q×e6† Bf7 29. Q×c8† Q×c8 30. Rd8† Q×d8 31. B×d8 Be6 32. B×b7 B×g4 33. B×a6 e4 34. c6 e3 35. Ba5 Be5 36. Be1 Bf3 37. Bb5 Kf7 38. c5 Ke7 39. b4 g5 40. Ba4 Kd8 41. b5 Kc8 42. b6 e2 43. Bb5 g4 44. Ba6† Kb8 45. c7† B×c7 46. b×c7† K×c7 47. Bb5 1–0

416. Steinitz–K. E. A. Anderssen Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (7.1), 11 August 1873 Queen’s Gambit (D55) Bachmann (game 328); L&S (game 101); W.P., VI (October 1873), page 110; Neishtadt, pages 92–96.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 0–0 6. Nf3 b6 7. Bd3 Bb7 8. 0–0 Nbd7 9. c×d5 e×d5 10. Rc1 c5 11. d×c5 b×c5 12. Qa4 Ne4? Black would be roughly equal after 12. … h6 or 12. … Nb6. 13. B×e4 d×e4 14. Rfd1 Computers say Black is lost already. 14. … B×g5 15. N×g5! This is best but the commentators who have suggested 15. R×d7 would lose are mistaken. 15. … Q×g5 16. R×d7 Rfb8 17. Qb3! Bc6 18. Q×f7† Kh8 19. h4 Qg4 20. R×a7 R×a7 21. Q×a7 R×b2 22. Q×c5 Qe6 23. Rd1 h6 24. Rd6 Qf7 25. Nd1 Re2 26. Kf1 1–0

417. K. E. A. Anderssen–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (7.2), 12 August 1873 Ruy Lopez (C77) Bachmann (game 329); L&S (game 107); W.P., VI (October 1873), page 112; Pritchett (game 10), page 81.

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. d3 d6 6. B×c6† b×c6 7. h3 g6 8. Nc3 Bg7 9. Be3 Rb8 10. b3 c5 11. Qd2 h6 12. g4?! Ng8 13. 0–0–0 Ne7 14. Ne2?! Nc6 15. Qc3 Nd4 16. Nfg1 0–0 17. Ng3 Be6 18. N1e2 Qd7 19. B×d4 c×d4 20. Qb2? a5 21. Kd2 d5 22. f3 Qe7 23. Rdf1 Qb4† 24. Kd1 a4 25. Rh2 c5 26. Nc1 c4 27. a3 Qe7 28. b4 c3 29. Qa1 Qg5 30. Rff2 f5 31. e×f5 g×f5 32. h4 Qg6 33. N×f5 B×f5 34. g×f5 R×f5 35. Ne2 Rbf8 36. Qa2 Qf7 37. Rh3 Kh7 38. Ng1 Bf6 39. Ke2 Rg8 40. Kf1 Be7 41. Ne2 Rh5 42. f4 B×h4 43. Rff3 e4 44. d×e4 Qg6 45. Ng3 B×g3 0–1

418. Steinitz–A. Schwarz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (8.1), 14 August 1873 English Opening (A28) Bachmann (game 330); L&S (game 117).

1. c4 e5 2. e3 Nf6 3. Nc3 Nc6 4. Nf3 Be7 5. d4 e×d4 6. e×d4 d6 7. Bd3 0–0 8. h3 Re8 9. Be3 Bd7 10. g4 Bf8 11. Qd2 Nb4 12. Bb1 c6 13. a3 Na6 14. Bc2 Nc7 15. 0–0–0 d5 16. g5 Nh5 17. c×d5 N×d5 18. Ne5 g6 19. Kb1 a5 20. Rc1 b5 21.  N×d5 c×d5 22.  Bd1 Bf5† 23.  Ka2 b4 24.  a4 Rc8 25. Bb3 Qd6 26. Qe2 Rc3 27. b×c3 b×c3 28. Ka1 c2 29. R×c2 R×e5 30. d×e5 Q×e5† 31. Ka2 Qd6 32. Bc5 1–0

419. A. Schwarz–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (8.2), 15 August 1873 Giuoco Piano (C50) Bachmann (game 331); L&S (game 123); W.P. VI (October 1873), page 113.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. d3 Nf6 5. Nc3 d6 6. Bg5 h6 7. Bh4 g5 8. Bg3 a6 9. Qd2 Bg4 10. Ne2 Qe7 11. h4 B×f3 12. g×f3 0–0–0 13. h×g5 h×g5 14. 0–0–0 Nh5 15. c3 Qf6 16. d4 N×g3 17. R×h8 N×e2† 18. B×e2 R×h8 19. d×c5 d×c5 20. Rg1 Rg8 21. Kc2 Nd8 22. Qd5 Qe7 23. Rd1 c6 24. Qb3 b5 25.  c4 Ne6 26.  Kb1 Nd4 27.  Qe3 Rh8 28.  Qd2 Rh2 29. Bf1 b4 30. Qe3 Qf6 31. Rd3 g4 32. f×g4 R×f2 0–1

420. Steinitz–O. Gelbfuhs Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (9.1), 18 August 1873 English Opening (A13) Bachmann (game 332); L&S (game 129); W.P. VI (October 1873), page 114.

1. c4 e6 2. e3 f5 3. g3 Nf6 4. Bg2 c6 5. Nf3 d5 6. b3 Bd6 7. Bb2 0–0 8. 0–0 Nbd7 9. d4 b6 10. Nc3 Qe7 11. a3 Bb7 12. Qc2 Ne4 13. Nd2 e5 14. Rfe1 N×d2 15. Q×d2 e4 16. c×d5 c×d5 17. Nb5 Rfc8 18. Rec1 a6 19. N×d6 Q×d6 20. a4 Nf6 21.  Ba3 R×c1† 22.  Q×c1 Qc6 23.  Qd2 Rc8 24.  Rc1 Qe6 25.  R×c8† B×c8 26.  Qb4 Kf7 27.  Qf8† Kg6 28.  Bf1 f4 29. e×f4 e3 30. Bd3† Kh6 31. Qe7 e×f2† 32. K×f2 Qh3 33. Kg1 Qh5? (Gelbfuhs was short of time to reach move 40 and played this move hastily, allowing mate in two.) 34. Q×f6†! 1–0

223

421. O. Gelbfuhs–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (9.2), 19 August 1873 Ruy Lopez (C80) Bachmann (game 333); L&S (game 134); W.P., VI (February 1874), page 211.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. 0–0 N×e4 6. d4 b5 7. Bb3 d5 8. d×e5 Be6 9. Nc3 N×c3 10. b×c3 Be7 11.  a4 0–0 12.  a×b5 a×b5 13.  R×a8 Q×a8 14.  Qd3 Na7 15. Bg5 Qd8 16. B×e7 Q×e7 17. B×d5 Rd8 18. Qe3 B×d5 19. Q×a7 B×f3 20. g×f3 Qg5† 21. Kh1 Q×e5 22. Qe3 Qf6 23. Re1 h6 24. f4 Rd6 25. Qe8† Kh7 26. Qe4† g6 27. Qb4 Qh4 28. Q×b5 Q×f4 29. Qe2 Rd2 30. Qe3 Q×f2 31. Q×f2 R×f2 32. Re7 c5 33. Rc7 Rf5 34. Kg2 g5 35. c4 Kg6 36. Kg3 Re5 37. Kf3 f5 38. Rc6† Kh5 39. Rd6 f4 40. Rd5 Re3† 41. Kf2 Rc3 42. R×c5 R×c2† 43. Kf3 R×h2 44. Rc8 Rc2 45. c5 Rc3† 0–1

422. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (10.1), 21 August 1873 Cunningham Gambit (C35) Bachmann (game 334); L&S (game 139); The Field (de Vere), 11 October 1873; W.P., VI (November 1873), page 141; Renette, H. E. Bird (game 250), page 140.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 Be7 4. Bc4 Bh4† 5. Kf1 d6 6. d4 Bg4 7.  B×f4 Qf6 8.  Be3 Ne7 9.  Nbd2 h6 10.  h3 B×f3 11. N×f3 Nd7 12. Kg1 Bg3 13. Nd2 Nb6 14. Bd3 Bf4 15. Bf2 h5 16. h4 0–0–0 17. Nf3 d5 18. e5 Qe6 19. Qe2 f6 20. Re1 Nc6 21. g3 f×e5 De Vere: “This sacrifice would have been justifiable against a second-rate player at the Divan; but against Herr Steinitz in an European contest, it is (mildly speaking) a grave error.” 22. g×f4 Qg4† 23. Kh2 e4 24. Ng5 Q×f4† 25. Bg3 Qf6 26. Bb5? There was no note here in The Field, but this should have let Black off the hook. Renette suggests 26. Rhf1 but 26. c3 is even stronger. 26. … N×d4 27. Qf1 Rdf8 28. c3 Qe7 Better 28. … Nf5. 29. c×d4 R×f1 30. Rh×f1 Rf8? 31. R×f8† Stronger 31. N×e4!. 31. … Q×f8 32. a3 c6 33. Rf1 Qe8 34. Rf7 Nd7 35. Bf1 Nf6 36. Rc7† 1–0

423. H. E. Bird–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (10.2), 22 August 1873 Ruy Lopez (C80) Bachmann (game 335); L&S (game 144); W.P., VI (October 1873), page 115; Renette, H. E. Bird (game 251), page 140.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. 0–0 N×e4 6. d4 b5 7. Bb3 d5 8. N×e5 N×e5 9. d×e5 c6 10. c3 Bc5 11. Nd2 N×d2 12. B×d2 Qh4 13. Kh1 0–0 14. f4 Bg4 15. Qe1 Q×e1 16. Ra×e1 Bf5 17. Be3 B×e3 18. R×e3 Rad8 19. Rd1 Rd7 20. h3 h5 21. Rd2 Rfd8 22. Bd1 g6 23. Bf3 c5 24. g4 h×g4 25. h×g4 Be6 26. Kg2 d4 27. c×d4 R×d4 28. R×d4 R×d4 29. Kg3 Rd2 30. Kh4 Kf8 31. Kg5 Ke7 32. f5 B×a2 33. Rc3 Bc4 34. Bb7 g×f5 35. g×f5 a5 36. b3 Rd3 37. f6† Kd7 38. R×d3† B×d3 39. Bd5 Ke8 40. Bc6† Kf8 41. Kf4

224

Steinitz in London

Bc2 42. Bd5 a4 43. b×a4 b×a4 44. e6 f×e6 45. B×e6 Bb3 46. Bf5 a3 47. Bb1 a2 48. B×a2 B×a2 (W.P. ends here prematurely.) 49. Ke3 Kf7 50. Kd3 K×f6 0–1

424. Steinitz–J. Heral Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (11.1), 25 August 1873 Sicilian Defense (B45) Bachmann (game 336); L&S (game 153); W.P., VI (November 1873), page 140.

1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 e6 4. d4 c×d4 5. N×d4 Nf6 6.  Ndb5 a6 7.  Nd6† B×d6 8.  Q×d6 Qe7 9.  Bf4 Q×d6 10. B×d6 Kd8 11. 0–0–0 Ne8 12. Bg3 Ke7 13. e5 f6 14. f4 f5 15.  Bh4† Kf7 16.  Na4 h6 17.  Nb6 Rb8 18.  N×c8 R×c8 19. R×d7† Kg6 20. R×b7 Nc7 21. h3 Nd5 22. Bg3 Ncb4 23. c3 N×a2† 24. Kb1 Na×c3† 25. b×c3 N×c3† 26. Kb2 Nd1† 27. Ka3 Rc1 28. Bc4 Rc8 29. B×e6 Ra1† 30. Kb4 a5† 31. Kb5 Rb1† 32. Ka6 Ra8† 33. Ra7 Rab8 34. Bf7† Kh7 35. Bf2 N×f2 36. R×b1 R×b1 37. Be6 Kg6 38. g4 f×g4 39. h×g4 N×g4 40. B×g4 a4 41. f5† Kg5 42. R×g7† Kf4 43. f6 K×e5 44. f7 Rf1 45. Bh5 Rf2 46. Rg3 Ke6 47. Re3† Kd6 48. Re8 1–0

425. J. Heral–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup tournament, Vienna (11.2), 26 August 1873 English Opening (A13) Bachmann (game 337); L&S (game 185).

1. c4 e6 2. e3 f5 3. Nf3 Nf6 4. b3 b6 5. Bb2 Bb7 6. Nc3 Nc6 7.  Be2 Be7 8.  d4 d5 9.  Ng5 Qd7 10.  Bh5† N×h5 11. Q×h5† g6 12. Qh6 d×c4 13. Rc1 Nb4 14. 0–0 Nd3 15. Rc2 c×b3 16. a×b3 N×b2 17. R×b2 Qc6 18. d5 Q×c3 19. N×e6 Q×b2 20. Qf4 Bd6 21. Qc4 Qe5 0–1 Entering the final round of matches, Blackburne had defeated all his opponents so far; only Rosenthal stood in his way. In clear second was Steinitz, who had beaten everybody except Blackburne. Steinitz made a financial offer to motivate the Pole to do his best. What Hoffer wrote about Steinitz in his lifetime was often vitriolic, but the following, penned ten years after the champion’s death, is likely to be true: In order to stimulate Rosenthal to an exceptional effort, Steinitz promised him, in case of success, a not inconsiderable remuneration…. A controversy sprang up about the money offer to Rosenthal, and raged with some violence for a considerable time in the chess Press. Steinitz made his offer openly with the consent of the committee, who argued that remunerating a player for doing his best, which he was in honour bound to do without any promise of special reward, is not bribery. The counter argument was that none of the other players having received similar remuneration, but only Rosenthal, it was, if not bribery in the strict sense of the word, in any case unfair. Neither side could convince the other, and so the matter ended.37

Even the bribe might not have been enough had Blackburne not blundered in the first game, losing from a won position. Blackburne then played for a draw with Black in the second game, staking all on White in the third game, but in that game he played the opening miserably and lost. In the play-off Blackburne was again below his usual strength and Steinitz won 2–0. Bird, in Chess Masterpieces, remarked that: “Mr. Blackburne … lost both games played, almost as easily as he had won at the commencement of the Tournament.”

426. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Emperor’s Cup playoff, Vienna (1), 28 August 1873 Ruy Lopez (C77) Bachmann (game 338); L&S (game 163); The Field, 7 September 1873; Blackburne (game 208).

Polish-French master Samuel Rosenthal who received a controversial bonus from Steinitz after defeating Blackburne in the last round at Vienna 1873. (From The Chess-Monthly, XI [October 1889].)

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. Qe2 b5 6. Bb3 Bb7!? 7. d3 Bc5 8. c3 0–0 9. Bg5 Many years later, in his Modern Chess Instructor, pages 12–13 (note 60), Steinitz suggested the continuation 9. 0–0 d6 10. Nh4 with advantage to White because “Black has a weak spot at f5. 10. … Bc8 is now of little use, as White answers Kh1 followed by g3 and f4. And if 10. … g6 11. Bh6 Re8 12. g3 Na5 13. Bc2 with the superior game.” To modern eyes, 10. Nh4 looks decentralizing, inviting the response 10. … d5. 9. … h6 10. Bh4 Be7 11. Nbd2

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873 Vienna 1873 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Steinitz, William Blackburne, Joseph H. Anderssen, K. E. Adolf Rosenthal, Samuel Bird, Henry E. Paulsen, Louis Fleissig, Maximilian Meitner, Philipp Heral, Josef Gelbfuhs, O. Schwarz, Adolf Pitschel, Karl

1 • 1=1 00 00 00 00 =0= =0= 00 00 00 00

2

3

4

5

6

0=0 11 11 11 • 011 0=0 11 100 • 011 11 1=1 100 • 00 00 100 11 • 010 00 01= 11 010 10= 00 00 00 ==0 00 00 00 100 010 1=0 =00 00 010 00 010 100 00 00 010 =00 –– 00

7

225 8

11 =1= =1= 101 101 11 11 01= ==1 10= 11 11 00 11 11 • 11 =11 00 • –1+ =00 +0– • 10= 1=0 0=1 00 011 =0= 01= 1=0 =00 –– 00 ––

9

10

11

12

11 11 11 11 11 =11 101 101 011 11 011 =11 101 101 11 ++ 0=1 11 11 11 01= 11 10= ++ 0=1 100 0=1 11 1=0 =1= =11 ++ • =01 =10 010 =10 • === =11 =01 === • =1= 101 ½00 =0= •

Pts 10 10 8½ 7½ 6½ 6½ 3½ 3½ 3 3 3 1

Players met in best of three mini-matches. A won match scored 1 and a tied match scored half. Equal signs indicate draws. Fleissig and Meitner actually played only one game in the final round. Pitschel forfeited three matches. Play-off match: Steinitz 2 Blackburne 0.

Kh8 12.  Nf1 a5! 13.  a4 b×a4 14.  B×a4 d5! 15.  Qc2 Bird thought White should have won a pawn, meaning presumably 15. B×c6 B×c6 16. N×e5. Steinitz’s intentions are not on record, but 16. … Bb5 appears to give Black excellent compensation. 15. … d×e4 16. d×e4 Nd7! 17. Bg3? Nc5! 18. Rd1 Qe8 19. Ne3 Ba6! 20. Nd5 Bd6 21. Nh4 Rb8 22. Nf6!? Qe6 23.  B×c6 Q×f6 24.  f3 Rb6 25.  Bd5 Rfb8 26.  b3 N×b3 27.  Nf5 Nc5 28.  c4 Rb2 29.  N×d6 c×d6 30.  Qc3 R8b3 31. Q×a5 Re3† 32. Kf1 R×f3† 33. Kg1 R×g3 0–1

427. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Emperor’s Cup playoff, Vienna (2), 29 August 1873 Irregular Opening (A00) Bachmann (game 339); L&S (game 164); The Field, 7 September 1873; Blackburne (game 209).

1. a3 g6 2. d4 Bg7 3. e4 c5 4. d×c5 Qc7 5. Bd3 Q×c5 6. Ne2 Nc6 7. Be3 Qa5† 8. Nbc3 d6 9. 0–0 Bd7 10. b4 Qd8 11. Rb1 b6 12. Nd5 Nf6 13. N×f6† B×f6 14. Bh6 Ne5 15. h3 Rg8 16. f4 Nc6 17. Qd2 Qc7 18. c4 Nd8 19. Rfc1 Ne6 20. Nc3 Qb7 21. Nd5 Bh8 22. Kh1 Rc8 23. Qf2 Bc6 24. Qh4 Nd4 25. Bg5 B×d5 26. c×d5 Kd7 27. B×e7 R×c1† 28. R×c1 Rc8 29.  Rd1 Rc3 30.  Bf6 Qc8 31.  Qg4† Nf5 32.  Bb5† Kc7 33. B×c3 h5 34. Qf3 Nh4 35. B×h8 Q×h8 36. Rc1† Kb7 37. Qc3 Qd8 38. Qc6† Kb8 39. Ba6 “and White mates in two moves” (1–0). The first prize was originally announced as 1000 Austrian guilders but this was royally supplemented by 200 ducats in gold (the Kaiserpreis), presented by Emperor Franz Josef. This meant a huge difference between winning and losing the play-off. The second prize, which Blackburne received, was 600 Austrian guilders (the sum of the entry fees: 12 entrants times 50 guilders). Anderssen won third prize (300 guilders) and Rosenthal went home with fourth prize (200 guilders) and whatever pay-off he had received from Steinitz.

After the Tournament MacDonnell, in the chapter about Paulsen in his 1894 book The Knights and Kings of Chess, wrote that he was “credibly informed that Paulsen and Steinitz played a series of games together, after Steinitz had won the first prize in the Vienna tournament,” the score being 3–2 to Paulsen, exclusive of draws.38 Just two games survive:

428. L. Paulsen–Steinitz Casual games, Vienna, September? 1873 Three Knights’ Game (C46) Bachmann (game 397) from D.S.Z., XXVIII (December 1873), page 363; Renette, Louis Paulsen (game 448), page 248. Black played unsoundly and lost rapidly.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. Nf3 g6 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. a3 d6 6. d3 h6 7. Bd2 f5 8. h3 f4 9. Qe2 g5 10. g3 Nf6 11. g×f4 e×f4 12. 0–0–0 Qe7 13. d4 g4 14. Nh4 N×d4 15. Qd3 Nd7 16. h×g4 Ne5 17. Q×d4 1–0

429. Steinitz–L. Paulsen Casual games, Vienna, September? 1873 French Defense (C00) Bachmann included this game twice, as game 340 but again in the appendix at the end of his fourth volume as game 966. It was annotated by Blackburne and Potter in C.O.L.C.M., I (1874), pages 42–43, and again in D.S.Z., XXIX (August 1874), pages 246–247, and Renette, Louis Paulsen (game 449), pages 248–249.

1. e4 e6 2. g3 d5 3. Bg2 d×e4 4. B×e4 Nf6 5. Bg2 Bd6 6. d4 Nc6 7. f4 Ne7 8. Nf3 c5 9. d×c5 Qa5† 10. Nc3 B×c5 11. Nd4 Ned5 12. Nb3 N×c3 13. N×a5 N×d1 14. K×d1 Bb4 15. Bd2 B×a5 16. B×a5 0–0 17. Kd2 Bd7 18. B×b7 Rab8 19. Bf3 R×b2 20. Rhb1 Rfb8 21. R×b2 R×b2 22. Bc3 Rb6

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Steinitz in London

23. B×f6 g×f6 24. Be4 f5 25. Bd3 Bc6 26. Re1 h6 27. Re5 Bd5 28. a4 f6 29. Re1 Kf7 30. a5 Rd6 31. Kc3 Rc6† 32. Kd4 Be4 33. B×e4 f×e4 34. c4 f5 35. c5 Kf6 36. Kc4 e5 37. Kd5 Re6 38. c6 e×f4 39. c7 Re8 40. g×f4 C.O.L.C.M. ends here saying “and wins.” D.S.Z. and Bachmann had an additional move pair: 40. … e3 41. R×e3 1–0 The Oesterreichische Schachzeitung for September 1873 perhaps went to press late in order to report on the end of the congress. Lehner’s report reveals that it had been decided in advance to hold a celebration dinner for the first-prize winner but this had to be postponed several times through various circumstances (once on Steinitz’s account). Blackburne, along with Bird, had to leave before the final banquet, so the presentation of some, at least, of the prizes must therefore have been done early, though the magazine does not make this clear. Kolisch was not there either; business had called him to Paris before the tournament concluded. Lehner says that Paulsen and Rosenthal also had to leave on the date finally settled upon, which was Thursday, 4 September. At mid-day, the majority of those invited gathered in the rooms of the Vienna Chess Club. A somewhat cloudy morning had turned into a beautiful summer’s day as they went in open carriages through Heiligenstadt to Wagner’s Restau-

Wilhelm Steinitz, after his victory in the Vienna tournament. (Leipzig Illustrirte Zeitung, 7 September 1873.)

rant where the feast began in a garden room just after 1 p.m. At the end of the meal, champagne was served “and the glasses clanged with fraternal concord.” The first toast was proposed to Steinitz who replied with thanks. In a lengthy speech he spoke of chess tournaments in general, including the one just finished in Vienna, and finally came to the conclusion that, although after a long stay in London he returned to Vienna only for a short time, he always considered himself a good Austrian. Many more toasts followed. Herr Weinbrenner thanked the two chief organizers, Baron Rothschild and Ignaz Kolisch. Then Lehner himself, at the request of the absent honorary president of the club, Major Ritter von Haymmerle, proposed a special toast to Steinitz. Further speeches followed, in one of which the Italian master Discart recalled that Hamppe had been the first to recognize Steinitz’s talent. The company stayed happily together until six in the evening, much later than scheduled.39 So the Congress ended. Following this, Steinitz apparently remained on the Continent for three more weeks. Probably he spent some time with PopperLynkeus and other friends in Vienna. Steinitz may even have visited family in Prague, although it is never written that he went back there after leaving his home town. The next definite sighting of Steinitz was his arrival in the Netherlands around the 24th of September. The fact that he did not hurry back to England is another piece of evidence that he was not yet been appointed chess editor of The Field. The limited amount of information available about Steinitz’s second visit to The Hague is somewhat contradictory. It is not clear whether he gave two simuls (one of six boards and one of eight) or if there are some errors in the reports. Sissa (1873, page 363) said that on his return journey from Vienna, Steinitz spent two days in The Hague and played some more games, but did not provide many details. Game 430 was published there and dated 24 September. Then in 1874 Sissa published two more games, said to be from Steinitz’s second visit, but not dated. Game 431 was said to be one of six while Game 432, drawn against H. W. B. Gifford (an English expatriate who played in the 1878 Paris international), was probably played one-on-one. (When Blackburne went to The Hague in 1874 he played a casual game with Gifford, who was not an opponent of his in a simul; nor did Gifford take a board against Steinitz in July 1873.) Also in Sissa 1874 is a game against an anonymous amateur (Game 433) which Bachmann wrongly says was played in Holland. The newspaper De Tijd of 27 September said that “the day before yesterday in the evening” Steinitz played eight games, which if correct would mean the 25th. It also says he won them all so clearly the Gifford game cannot have been from that simul. Another newspaper, without providing a date, agreed there were eight games, all won by Steinitz. It said a little more:

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873 The Hague had a visit from the aforementioned chess player Steinitz, who won the first prize in Vienna. He played eight games at the same time in the [royal?] residence, with the main connoisseurs of this game. All the games were won by Steinitz. Yesterday morning he left for Germany.40

One may take these reports literally to mean that Steinitz played two simuls, one on the 24th and the other the next day, with six opponents on the first occasion and eight on the next. This is plausible because in June 1874 Blackburne gave two different blindfold exhibitions in The Hague: one at the Discendo Discimus club and a second at the royal palace. Perhaps another report will later be found to clear up the matter: something for Dutch chess historians to research!

430. Steinitz–W. Kamphuizen The Hague 6-board simul, 24 September 1873 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 348), from Sissa 1873, page 363. Sissa did not explicitly say this was played in a simul although it probably was.

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h5 56. a6 Nd8 57. b6† a×b6† 58. Kb5 Kb8 59. K×b6 Nb7 60. B×b7 h4 61. a7 mate (1–0).

432. Steinitz–H. W. B. Gifford The Hague casual game, 24 or 25? September 1873 King’s Gambit (C37) Bachmann (game 349) from Sissa, 1874, pages 104–105.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. Ne5 Qh4† 6. Kf1 f3 7.  d4 Nf6 8.  Nc3 f×g2† 9.  K×g2 Qh3† 10.  Kg1 Bg7 11. N×f7 Rf8 12. e5 Nh5 13. Ne4 h6 14. N×h6 d5 15. B×d5 Nf4 16. B×f4 R×f4 17. Ng8 Qe3† 18. Kg2 Qh3† ½–½. The analysis of how this short game might have continued ran from the foot of page 105 to the top of page 109. The next game, which has not been found in any English primary source, was played somewhere on Steinitz’s travels, perhaps in Austria after the Vienna 1873 tournament. Since the newspaper report quoted above said Steinitz went on to Germany from The Hague, perhaps it was played there in late September before Steinitz returned to England. Possibly Steinitz had a club engagement somewhere in the Rhineland.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 Qh4† 5. Ke2 d6 6. Nf3 Bg4 7. B×f4 B×f3† 8. K×f3 Nf6 9. g3 Qg4† 10. Kg2 Q×d1 11. R×d1 0–0–0 12. Bc4 h6 13. B×f7 g5 14. Be3 Bg7 15. Rhf1 Rhf8 16. Be6† Kb8 17. a3 Rde8 18. Bf5 N×e4 19. B×e4 d5 20. R×f8 B×f8 21. B×d5 R×e3 22. B×c6 b×c6 23. Kf2 Re6 24. Re1 Rf6† 25. Kg2 Kb7 26. Re8 Bd6 27. Ne4 Rf5 28. c4 Bf8 29. c5 Rf7 30. Nd2 Bg7 31. Nb3 Ka6 32. Rb8 Rd7 33. Rb4 Re7 34. Kf3 Rf7† 35. Ke2 Re7† 36. Kd3 Re6 37. Rb8 Rf6 38. Nd2 Rf2 39. b4 B×d4 40. Ne4 R×h2 41. K×d4 Ra2 42. Rh8 R×a3 43. R×h6 Kb5 44. Rg6 Rb3 45. R×g5 R×b4† 46. Kd3 a5 47. Nc3† Ka6 48. Rg8 Kb7 49. Rd8 a4 50. Rd4 1–0

433. Amateur–Steinitz

431. Steinitz–Dr. E. Breul

1. d4 f5 2. e4 f×e4 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 c6 5. B×f6?! e×f6 6. N×e4 Qb6 7. Qe2? Careless say the Linders; 7. Rb1 was called for. 7. … Q×b2! Not fearing a double check. 8. Nd6† 8. N×f6† Kd8 8. … Kd8 9. Qe8† Kc7 10. Q×c8† K×d6 10. … Kb6?? 11. Qd8 mate. 11. Rd1 Na6! 12. Q×a8 Kc7 13. Q×a7 13. Rd2 Qc1† 14. Ke2 g5 15. Nf3 g4 Linder and Linder. 13. … Bb4† 14. Ke2 Q×c2† 15. Kf3 Qf5† 16. Kg3 Bd6† 17. Kh4 Qg5† 18. Kh3 Qh5 mate (0–1).

The Hague 6-board simul, 24? September 1873 Queen’s Gambit Accepted (D26) Bachmann (game 350) from Sissa, 1874, pages 109–111. This was said to be one of six games. The opponent was described as “Dr. B” who was presumably the same E. Breul who played Steinitz in July.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 d×c4 3. e3 Nf6 4. B×c4 e6 5. Nf3 Bb4† 6. Nc3 c6 7. 0–0 B×c3 8. b×c3 Nbd7 9. Ba3 Nb6 10. Bd3 Nbd5 11. c4 Ne7 12. e4 0–0 13. e5 Nd7 14. Ng5 h6 15. Qh5 N×e5 16. Bh7† Kh8 17. d×e5 Qe8 18. Bc2 b6 19. Nh7 f5 20. Nf6 Q×h5 21. N×h5 c5 22. Nf4 g5 23. Nd3 Ba6 24. Bb3 Nc6 25. f4 g4 26. Bb2 Rad8 27. Rfd1 Rd7 28. Nf2 Rfd8 29. R×d7 R×d7 30. Rd1 R×d1† 31. N×d1 Nb4 32. g3 Bb7 33. Ne3 Kg7 34. Bc3 Nc6 35. Kf2 Kf7 36. Nc2 Nd8 37. Na3 Bc6 38. Nb5 B×b5 39. c×b5 Ke7 40. a4 Nb7 41. Ke2 Kd7 42. Kd3 Nd8 43. Kc4 Nb7 44. Bd1 Nd8 45. Be2 Nb7 46. Bf1 Nd8 47. Bg2 Nf7 48. Bd2 Kc8 49. Be3 Nd8 50. Bf1 Nf7 51. Bg2 Nd8 52. Bf2 Kc7 53. B×c5 b×c5 54. K×c5 Nf7 55. a5

Austria or Germany (?), September? 1873 Dutch Defense (A83) Bachmann (game 347); Sissa 1874, pages 137–138. Bachmann said this miniature was played in the same simul at The Hague as game 399 against Van der Haak (which he had also wrongly dated) and the Linders, who included it in their book on Steinitz, pages 129–130, were also misled into saying this game was played in The Hague. Sissa published it under the heading “Buitenland,” which means abroad, and calling the loser “X” (whereas Bachmann has “A”).

The date of Steinitz’s eventual return to England is uncertain but as the correspondence match between the Vienna and City of London Chess Clubs (Games 386 and 387 above) was meant to resume on 1 October, with Steinitz and Potter now the only analysts involved on the London side, one can assume he was home at least a couple of days before then. When the City of London Chess Club organized a welcomehome reception for Steinitz, Blackburne, and Bird on 15 October, with Gastineau in the chair, Blackburne chose not to attend. Although Löwenthal (in Land and Water) glossed over the English master’s absence, while mentioning that Steinitz

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Steinitz in London

and Bird returned thanks, the Westminster Papers did comment—although its representative (Duffy) was not there and received no official report. It said the general verdict was that the “festival” was: … a great success, somewhat qualified by the absence of the successful English player, Mr. Blackburne. Mr. Blackburne’s absence was, we understand, owing to some action of the Committee to which he declined to be committed. But, without any precise information as to the cause of difference, we are unwilling to believe that the Committee were too heedless of the feelings of the guest they proposed to honour, or that the guest was a little too exacting regarding the formalities of the occasion. It is impossible, however, to avoid the conclusion that a festival in honour of the English players who took part in the Vienna Tourney, without Mr. Blackburne, bears a ludicrous resemblance to the play of Hamlet with that Prince of Denmark excluded from the dramatis personae.41

The final two games of this chapter were played in a 22board simultaneous exhibition at the City of London Chess Club on Wednesday, 5 November 1873. Steinitz won 20 games and drew two (with Smith and Taylor).42

434. Steinitz–B. Bussy City of London Chess Club simul, 5 November 1873 Bishop’s Opening (C24) Bachmann (game 353); C.O.L.C.M., I (1874), page 183 (with the spelling “Bussey”).

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Nf6 3. f4 d5 4. e×d5 e4 5. Nc3 Bc5 6. d4 e×d3 7. Q×d3 B×g1 8. R×g1 0–0 9. Be3 Bg4 10. h3 Re8 11. Kd2 Bd7 12. g4 c6 13. g5 N×d5 14. N×d5 c×d5 15. B×d5 Nc6 16. g6 R×e3 17. g×f7† Kh8 18. K×e3 Qb6† 19. Kf3 Nd4† 20. Kg2 Bf5 21. Qa3 Qg6† 22. Kh2 Qf6 23. Rae1 1–0

435. Steinitz–A. Maas City of London Chess Club simul, 5 November 1873 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 352); C.O.L.C.M., I (May 1874), page 97.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. d5 Na5 10. Bb2 Ne7 11. Bd3 0–0 12. Nc3 Ng6 13. Qd2 c5 14. Ne2 f6 15. Rac1 Bc7 16. Ng3 Rb8 17. Nf5 b5 18. Kh1 c4 19. Bb1 b4 20. Bd4 Ba6 21. Rg1 c3 22. Qe1 Nf4 23. B×a7 Rb7 24. Be3 Ne2 25. N3d4 N×c1 26. Ne6 Qe8 27. B×c1 Rf7 28. g4 Qa4 29. g5 c2 30. g×f6 c×b1Q 31. Nh6† Kh8 32. N×f7† Kg8 33. R×g7 mate (1–0). On Saturday, 6 December, H. F. Gastineau held another of his house parties in Peckham, to mark the approaching end of his year in office as president of the City of London Chess Club. Steinitz was one of the guests, along with de Vere, Horwitz, Potter, Wisker, Zukertort, and numerous prominent amateurs. One of the toasts was to the club, “coupled with the name of Herr Steinitz.”43 It was probably late in 1873 that Steinitz was appointed Chess Editor of The Field, which provided him with a degree

of financial security for nearly a decade. The offices of The Field were then (and until 1891) situated on the corner of 346 Strand and Wellington Street—a handy location for Steinitz as it was an easy walk from there to Simpson’s and only a short omnibus ride to the City. The editor of that sporting weekly, John Henry Walsh (1813–88), was a great supporter of chess and a regular at the Divan.44 He had been responsible for the reintroduction of a chess column to The Field in 1858, not long after his appointment. MacDonnell wrote of Walsh that he often frequented chess circles but never studied the game. He “was one of the many who take all the greater delight in our game because they have no ambition to master it; and here I would observe that this is in most cases the proper spirit to animate the cultured gentleman. This is because to do better much study needed that would leave little to devote to a man’s main occupation….”45 MacDonnell wrote of Steinitz that he was “ambitious to shine as a writer, and when in this country affected the society of literary men.”46 One instance is that, at some unknown time and place, Steinitz had met and befriended the novelist and horticulturist Richard Doddridge Blackmore (1825–1900), who in the early 1870s was at the height of his fame because of his one great success, Lorna Doone. Blackmore’s correspondence with Fedden, surviving in fragments in the British Library, mentions Steinitz several times. The first letter in the set, dated 17 February 1873, includes the following: “Do you know ‘the great little man,’ to wit Steinitz? He comes sometimes to see me. I love the game, but am not sound. I cannot concentrate my attention enough upon it.”47 Later Blackmore says the last time he saw Steinitz was just before he was leaving for Vienna and he asks Fedden (who now lived in Bristol) how Steinitz was doing in the tournament because “I take no paper containing Chess-deeds.”48 Shortly afterwards Blackmore must have heard from Steinitz because he sent Fedden a short note enclosing it, saying: “You may like to scan the enclosed from Steinitz: I wish indeed that he might win—unlikely as it now appears—for he wants the money, wh (I believe) Anderssen does not.”49 By now Blackmore and Fedden were playing two postal games; Fedden may have returned Steinitz’s note to Blackmore with a reply move because it does not survive in the papers, which were donated to the library by a member of Fedden’s family.50 The correspondence games ended late in 1873; the one which Fedden won appeared in the Illustrated London News. Steinitz was Blackmore’s guest on Christmas Day 1873. Presumably Steinitz’s daughter and her mother were accustomed to spending Christmas with the Golder family and so the novelist invited him. Evidently some railroad companies provided a service even on Christmas Day, as it would have been a journey of some 12 miles and at least an hour each way to get from the City area where Steinitz lived out to Teddington (where Blackmore’s market garden was located), via London Bridge or Waterloo station. Blackmore’s

8. Big Successes, 1872–1873 letter mentioning Steinitz’s 25 December visit included the following: Do you object to the appearance of your name in “The Field” as the master combatant in game A? If so, please write at once, that it may be stopped, for Steinitz on Xmas day—when I drew a game with him!—asked me for my copy; but I did not think that he wd find it worth printing, therefore I did not apply to you about it…. Steinitz, I am delighted to say, has a nice appointment, & vested English interest, as Chess-editor of The Field.51

Since Blackmore did not mention this in one of the earlier letters, that is a pretty clear indication that Steinitz was only formally appointed chess editor after his return from Vienna, and perhaps only in December, contrary to some claims that he edited the column all year.52 The game that Blackmore drew with Fedden duly appeared in The Field three days later, with Steinitz commenting that “the greater portion of this delicate ending game [sic] is remarkably well played by both parties.”53 Blackmore’s comments did not reach Steinitz in time for the copy to be changed. He observed to Fedden on 2 February 1874 that two of the mistakes the future world champion attributed to “miscalculation” were due to “inadvertency.”54 In that same letter, Blackmore announced that “I am going to signalise my election to the City [of London]

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Chess Club—as every Briton is bound to do—by a dinner, a very small one truly—how I wish you cd be there to enlarge it.” Then in a letter on 14 February 1874 Blackmore told Fedden about the dinner he hosted, at which Steinitz was presumably present: Through elections, etc., our little dinner did not come off until yesterday, when we had a pleasant session. Mr. Potter, Steinitz’s great friend, & the editor of the new magazine, was with us, also my brother-in-law…. We went to the club-room afterwards, & I had the honour of playing with the president, Mr. Gastineau.55

During the summer of 1874, Fedden visited Blackmore and his wife at Teddington; it was around the time of Staunton’s death. There is one more letter in the file in which the novelist regrets that Steinitz was not appointed as his successor, unlikely though that would be. It is evident from the following that Blackmore, now working hard on a new serialized novel, Alice Lorraine, was not well informed about personalities in the chess world: I fear that the great little man has missed the editorship of the Illd L. N. column. I wrote him a very fine flourish, but he was rather too late in his canvas, & I hear one Hoffman, quite a lapsed star— is appointed. Steinitz was the proper man, or barring him Mr. Potter.56

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876 From this point, the nature of Steinitz’s life, and the character of this book, changes. During most of the next eight years, he ceased to be an active participant at the chess board, although he remained very active off it. It might be said that it was in these years that Steinitz’s struggle to find the secret of chess began. After bringing the correspondence match with Vienna to a successful conclusion in the first three months of 1874, his attention turned more and more to analysis, as shown in his game notes for The Field which were much more detailed than those of his predecessors. Now Steinitz had a regular income, and moreover a desk at The Field to call his own—Rose’s history of that paper says Hoffer had one, so probably all his predecessors also did.1 This would have been a workplace away from the hustle and bustle of the Divan and the clubs, a place where he could study chess, so long as he met his deadlines, which we have every reason to believe that he always did assiduously, even when unwell. Steinitz played few known games in 1874 to 1876, apart from his 7–0 crushing of Blackburne in their match of February 1876, when the English master created many chances but failed to take them. In general he had a good year and a half in 1874/5 but then became embroiled in difficulties that were largely of his own making. These were: firstly, his involvement in the foundation of the West-End Club, and secondly, an incorrect statement about funds he said the City of London Chess Club possessed after winning its correspondence match with Vienna; and, thirdly, an extremely vicious review of a book by Wormald, who was now chess editor of the Illustrated London News. Meanwhile, an important development was the launch of the monthly City of London Chess Magazine, edited by Potter, which had a much wider readership than the membership of that club. It was in competition with the Chess Player’s Chronicle (a bi-monthly chiefly aimed at provincial players) and the monthly Westminster Papers, which was only half a chess magazine. Chiefly because of events described later in this chapter, the City magazine lasted only two years but it was a high quality and informative organ.

436. J. Porges–Steinitz Casual game, Simpson’s Divan, 1874 Alapin’s Opening (C20) Bachmann (game 354); W.P., VII (October 1874), page 113. Steinitz’s opponent in this “skittles” game, featuring numerous reversals of fortune, was probably the “strong Parisian amateur” whose win against Hoffer (also at the Divan) was in The Field on 24 January 1874.

1. e4 e5 2. Ne2!? Nf6 3. Ng3 Bc5 4. Bc4 0–0 5. d3 d5?! 6. e×d5 Ng4? 7. Ne4 Bb6 8. h3 f5!? 9. Bg5 Qe8 10. h×g4 f×e4 11. d6† Kh8 12. f3? E×f3 13. g×f3 Nc6 14. Kd2 Qg6 15. Be7 N×e7? 16. d×e7 Qg5† 17. Kc3 Q×e7?? 18. R×h7† K×h7 19. Qh1† Kg6 20. Qh5† Kf6 21. Qh4† 1–0

Visiting the Provinces, 1874 On 11 February Steinitz attended the City of London club’s annual dinner.2 A few days later, he began a round of provincial club visits. He seems to have been more in demand for that after winning the Vienna tournament, but also chess activity was growing around the country with many new clubs forming in the 1870s and 1880s. Between 16 and 21 February 1874, Steinitz spent a week with Liverpool Chess Club. Burn reported in the Liverpool Weekly Albion on 21 February that Steinitz played an eightboard simultaneous exhibition giving odds of queen’s knight on the first night (Monday 16th). He played another simul on the Wednesday against two consulting pairs, giving odds, and another against two consulting pairs on level terms on the Saturday.

437. Steinitz–R. Lees Queen’s knight odds simul, Liverpool, 16 February 1874 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 364), probably finding the score in I.S.D.N., 3 October. Notes in quotes are by Burn from the original publication in the Liverpool Weekly Albion,

230

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876 7 March 1874. The opponent was presumably R. Lees (elected a member of Liverpool CC in 1872, not Thomas Lees, elected 1837.)3

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Bc5 3. b4 Bb6 4. Qe2 Nf6 5. f4 B×g1 “In positions of this kind it is generally unadvisable [sic] to exchange the B for the Kt.” 6. R×g1 Nc6 7. f×e5 N×e5 8. Bb3 0–0 9. Bb2 d6 10. h3 Be6 11. c4 Qd7 12. d4 Ng6 13. d5 Bf5 14. 0–0–0 “It is obvious that if White takes the B he loses his Queen.” 14. … N×e4 15. g4 Nf4 16. Qf3 N×h3 17. g×f5 (see diagram)

rDwDw4kD 0p0qDp0p wDw0wDwD DwDPDPDw w)PDnDwD DBDwDQDn PGwDwDwD DwIRDw$w

231

at K 4th.” which avoided any ambiguity. 17. … Nhg5?! The version in Bachmann went 17. … Neg5 18. Q×h3 (which would be a gross blunder) 18. … f6 19. Qd3 reaching the same position. Instead 17. … N×g1 18. R×g1 f6 was objectively the best defense although after 19. Q×e4 Rae8 20. Qg4 White has two bishops for rook and pawn. 18. Q×e4 “Finely played; if Black now takes the Queen then follows 18.  … N×e4 19. R×g7† Kh8 20. Rg8† K×g8 21. Rg1† Ng5 22. R×g5 mate.” 18. … f6 19. Qd3 Rae8 20. Bc2 a5 21. b5 Re7 22. Rde1 Rfe8 23.  Re6 Kf7 24.  R×g5 f×g5 25.  Qh3 Kg8 26.  f6 g×f6 27. B×f6 Rf7 “If 27. … R×e6 28. d×e6 R×e6 29. Bf5 Re1† 30. Kd2 and wins.” 28. Bf5 R×f6 29. R×f6 Re1† 30. Kd2 Qg7 31. B×h7†! 1–0

438. Steinitz–G. Ferguson After 17. g×f5

Here Bachmann and those who followed him (Pickard etc.) have a mistaken score attributable to misunderstanding “Q Kt to K Kt4” as the knight from e4. Burn’s column explicitly said “17. Kt. from R6th to Kt. 4th and 18. Q takes Kt

Queen’s knight odds simul, Liverpool, 16 February 1874 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 365); Liverpool Weekly Albion, 21 March 1874.

This opponent was presumably George Ferguson, who (according to the history of that club) became a member of Liverpool CC in 1868. He was later vice-president in 1881 and president for a year in 1882. 1.  e4 e6 2.  g3 b6 3.  Bg2 Bb7 4.  Ne2 d5 5.  Nc3 d×e4 6. N×e4 B×e4 7. B×e4 c6 8. d4 Qc7 9. Qf3 Bd6 10. c4 Nf6 11. Bc2 0–0 12. g4 Ne8 13. Bd2 Nd7 14. 0–0–0 f5 15. g×f5 e×f5 16. B×f5 R×f5 17. Q×f5 Nef6 18. h4 c5 19. Qe6† Kh8 20.  d5 Re8 21.  Qh3 Ne4 22.  Rde1 Bf4 23.  B×f4 Q×f4† 24. Kb1 Ndf6 25. Rhg1 Q×f2 26. Ka1 Qd4 27. h5 Q×c4 28.  d6 N×d6 29.  R×e8† Nf×e8 30.  h6 g6 31.  Qd7 Qf7 32. Qd8 b5 33. Re1 Kg8 34. a4 b×a4 35. Re7 Qf1† 36. Ka2 Qc4† 37. Kb1 Kf8 38. R×h7 Nf7 39. Qd7 Qf1† 40. Ka2 Qf5 41. Q×a4 g5 0–1.

439. Steinitz–J. M. Wood, Jr.

John Henry Walsh, editor of The Field during Steinitz’s period as chess editor. (From The Field.)

Queen’s knight odds simul, Liverpool, 16 February 1874 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 366); notes in quotes from the Liverpool Weekly Albion, 21 March 1874, where Burn says, “In the following game Herr Steinitz gave the odds of the Kt. to Mr. J. M. Wood, Jun., one of the best players of the Liverpool Club.” The 1893 club history shows that J. M. Wood, Jr., was elected a member in 1869 and another J. M. Wood (his father presumably) was elected in 1866. Bachmann (who dated the games to March) apparently had a different source but Burn’s column says Steinitz had left for Manchester before the end of February. Burn does not say this game was played simultaneously though it probably was. It is unclear whether the games against Wood were played (in succession) on the same occasion but it seems possible that Steinitz sought revenge and tried a different 11th move the second time.

232

Steinitz in London

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. 0–0 d6 6. d4 Nc6 7. c3 h6 8. g3 Bh3 “This move, followed by the advance of the pawn, is not good, as the Bishop is shut up while the White Knight comes into important action on f5. Mr. Wood being far too strong for the odds he is receiving, however, can afford to make a bad move or two in the opening.” 9. Rf2 g4 The Albion has a misprint “B to K Kt5” contradicting the previous note. 10. Nh4 f3 11. Qb3 11. Nf5 was seen in the next game. 11. … Qd7 12. Q×b7 Rb8 13. Qa6 N×d4! “Finely played.” 14. c×d4 B×d4 There was another misprint in the Albion which had “B to B.” 15. Nf5 B×f2† 16. K×f2 Nf6 17. Bd3 Rb4 18. Q×a7 0–0 19. Qe3 R×e4! “It is absurd for a player capable of making a fine combination like this to receive the odds of the Knight. Herr Steinitz did win one or two games at the odds, however.” 20. B×e4 N×e4† 21. Q×e4 Re8 22. N×h6† Kf8 23. Qd4 Re2† 24. Kg1 f2† 25. Q×f2 R×f2 26. K×f2 Qb5 “Finely played again. White has now no good move left.” 0–1

440. Steinitz–J. M. Wood, Jr. Queen’s knight odds simul? Liverpool, February 1874 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 363); from the Liverpool Weekly Albion, 21 February 1874: “In the following game Herr Steinitz gave the odds of the Kt. to one of the best pawn and two players of the Liverpool Chess Club.”

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. 0–0 d6 6. d4 Nc6 7. c3 h6 8. g3 Bh3 9. Rf2 g4 10. Nh4 f3 11. Nf5 Qf6 12. Qa4 0–0–0 13. b4 Nge7 14. b5 N×f5 15. b×c6 N×d4 16. c×b7† Kb8 17. Be3 Nc6 18. Q×c6 Q×c3 19. B×a7† K×a7 20. Qa6† 1–0

441. G. Ferguson and H. E. Kidson–Steinitz Consultation game at odds, Liverpool, 18 February 1874 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 362); notes by Burn from the Liverpool Weekly Albion, 21 February 1874.

The date of this particular game is clear from Burn’s column; it was one of two Steinitz played on the Wednesday against consulting partners, winning the other game easily. This one took two sessions. H. E. Kidson was honorary secretary of the Liverpool CC in 1875 and 1876. 1. e4 AND 2. d4 e6 3. Bd3 c5 4. c3 “This is better than 4. e5—the move recommended in the books.” 4. … g6 5. f4 d5 6. e5 Nh6 7. Nf3 Nc6 8. 0–0 Be7 9. a3 “Losing time; 9. Kh1 would have been better.” 9. … Qb6 10. Bc2 “Again 10. Kh1 would have been a better move.” 10. … Bd7 11. b4 c×d4 12. c×d4 Rc8 13. h3? “In positions like this the King should be played to R sq. without delay; through neglecting this precaution White now loses a pawn.” 13. … N×d4 “Very well played.” 14. Be3 Burn gave 14. N×d4 Nf5 15. B×f5 R×c1 16. Q×c1 Q×d4† with the better game, but computers con-

sider chances are about equal after 16. Qd2 or even 16. Qd3. Note also that 14. … R×c2? fails to 15. Be3! Rc4 16. Nf5. 14. … N×f3† 15. R×f3 Qc7 16. Ra2 0–0 17. Nd2 a5 18. Qb1 Nf5 19. B×f5 R×f5 20. Nb3 b6 21. Nd4 Rff8 22. g3 Qb8 23. h4 a4 24. Rh2 Rc3 25. Bd2 Rc4 26. Qd3 Rfc8 27. g4 b5 28. Ne2 Bd8 29. g5 Bb6† 30. Kf1 “Better than 30. Kh1 on account of Black’s reply 30. … Bc6.” 30. … Qc7 31. h5 Be8 “The game now becomes extremely difficult and interesting.” 32. Rfh3 “Threatening 33. h×g6 B×g6 34. Q×g6† h×g6 35. Rh8† Kf7 36. R2h7 mate.” 32. … g×h5 33. g6 “The allies play this part of the game with great skill.” 33.  … B×g6 34.  Rg2 Kf7 35. Qg3 “Threatening R×h5 with a formidable game.” 35. … Qe7?! Good enough but 35. … Rf8 is best and the move Burn analyzed, 35. … Rc2, is also strong if followed up correctly. 36. Qf3 Ke8 37. Rhg3 Qf7 38. f5 “Finely played, and the only move to prolong the game.” 38. … e×f5 “Better than 38. … Q×f5 as White could then have exchanged queens 39. Q×f5 (when Black must have retaken with the pawn) 39.  … e×f5 followed by 40.  Nf4.” Black would still be winning. 39. Nf4 R×f4 “A good move, at once paralysing White’s attack; if, instead, Black play 39.  … Rc1† White simply retreat their K to K 2nd. 40. Ke2.” 40. B×f4 Rc4 41. Re2 Qe6 42. Rgg2 Qc6 43. e6 Rc3 44. Be3 Qc4 45. Kg1 f4 0–1

442. Steinitz–G. Dufresne and L. Schüll Liverpool consultation simul (1), 21 February 1874 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 367), the first of two consultation games played at Liverpool CC on Steinitz’s last day at the club. From Burn’s column in the Liverpool Weekly Albion, 28 February 1874. This game is sometimes mistakenly attributed to Jean Dufresne instead of Gustav Dufresne.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 This daring move is the invention of Herr Steinitz and gives the name to the opening. Dangerous as it looks, Herr Steinitz has played it with success against some of the strongest players in Europe. 4. … Qh4† 5. Ke2 Qh5† 6. Nf3 g5 7. Nd5 Kd8 8. Kf2 d6 9. h4 Bg7 10. c3 h6 11. Bd3 Qg6 12. h×g5 h×g5 13. R×h8 B×h8 14. g3 f5 15. Qh1 Bg7 16. N×g5 Q×g5 17. B×f4 Qg6 18. Qh4† Nce7 19. Bg5 Qf7 20. N×e7 N×e7 If 20. … f×e4† Burn gave “21.  Kg1 N×e7 22.  Rf1 and White must win,” but 21. Nf5† Bf6 22. B×e4 is even stronger. 21. e×f5 Kd7 22. g4 “Although a piece behind, White has now a winning position.” 22. … Ng8 23. Re1 Kc6 “A very weak move, losing the game offhand.” 24. d5† Kb6 25. Be3† c5 26. Qd8† Qc7 27. Q×g8 B×f5 “They have no better move than to give up the exchange on the chance of obtaining an attack.” 28. Q×a8 B×d3 29. Qe8 Be5 30. Bf4 “Finely played; preventing Black’s contemplated attack.” 30. … Bb5 31. Qf8 Qh7 32. B×e5 d×e5 33. Qf6† Ka5 34. Q×e5 Qh4† 35. Qg3 Qf6† 36. Kg1 1–0

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876

443. C. Soul and S. Wellington–Steinitz Liverpool consultation simul (2), 21 February 1874 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann (game 368), score and notes in quotes from the Liverpool Weekly Albion, 28 February 1874.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. c3 Nf6 5. 0–0 “By this move the allies sacrifice a pawn but obtain the better position; the advantage is not, however, sufficient to compensate for the loss of the pawn.” 5. … N×e4 6. d4 e×d4 7. c×d4 Be7 8. d5 Nb8 9. Bf4 “This loses time: 9. Re1 followed by Nc3 or Qe2 looks better.” 9. … 0–0 “Black is now quite safe and a pawn ahead. The allies, however, do not become a whit discouraged, and from this point play with such ingenuity and judgment as to necessitate the utmost care on the part of their redoubtable antagonist to avoid the loss of the game.” 10. Qc2 Nf6 11. Nc3 d6 12. h3 Nh5 13. Bd2 g6 14. g4 Ng7 15. Nh2 f5 16. Kg2 Nd7 17. f4 f×g4 18. h×g4 Nf6 19. Be2 c6 20. Bf3 Bd7 21. Qb3 c5 22. Rae1 Rf7 23. Bc1 “Threatening to capture the b-pawn.” 23. … Qc8 “Defending the pawn, and bringing another piece to bear on White’s g-pawn.” 24. Qd1 b5 25. Kg3 h5 “Well played; breaking up White’s position.” 26. g5 Nf5† 27. Kf2 Ne8 28. Re6 “A very ingenious move. It is evident that if Black take the Rook he must lose back the exchange immediately.” 28. … Nh4 29. Rfe1 B×e6 30. d×e6 Rf5 (see diagram)

rDqDnDkD 0wDwgwDw wDw0PDpD Dp0wDr)p wDwDw)wh DwHwDBDw P)wDwIwH DwGQ$wDw

After 30. … Rf5

31. B×a8 “A great mistake. The Rook was completely out of play while the White Bishop occupied a very commanding position. The move in the text, moreover, brings the Black Queen into important action. The allies should have played 31. Nd5 when the following moves would probably have taken place: 31. … R×d5 (best) 32. B×d5 Rb8 33. b3 and White has decidedly the better position.” Computers say that after 33. b3 chances are equal and prefer 33. Nf3 or 33. Be4. If instead 31. … Kf8 White wins by 32. Be4 (or first 32. N×e7) but not Burn’s 32. B×h5 which fails to 32. … Qb7. 31. … Q×a8 32. Rg1 b4 33. Ne2 B×g5 34. Ng3 Rd5 35. Qe2 Bf6 36.  N×h5 Bd4† 37.  Be3 B×e3† 38.  K×e3 Rd4 39.  Qc2 “Threatening R×g6†.” 39. … Kh7 40. Ng3 Nf6 41. Ne2 Qd5 “Well played; if White now capture the R they obviously lose a piece.” 42. e7 Rd2 “Finely played again; if White take the R they lose their Q by …Nf5†.” 43. Rg5 “This move loses a

233

piece but there is nothing better to be done.” 43. … R×c2 44. R×d5 N×d5† 45. Kd3 R×e2 46. K×e2 N×e7 0–1 “On Monday Herr Steinitz leaves for Manchester, having accepted an invitation to spend a fortnight with the members of Manchester Chess Club,” wrote Burn on Saturday, 21st February. This statement about Steinitz’s timetable is confirmed by the City of London Chess Magazine for April 1874 which says he went to Manchester on 23 February 1874 and stayed until 9 March: During his stay he contested various simultaneous and consultation games with the members of the two Chess Clubs of that town, and was very successful, having lost but two games, viz., one with Mr. Steinkuhler, single-handed, and a game played against two of the members who were in consultation.

444. W. McClelland and S? Wright–Steinitz Consultation game, Manchester Union CC, March 1874 Scotch Gambit (C44) Bachmann (game 373); Liverpool Weekly Albion, 14 March 1874. This is a case where some publications have not only an incorrect score but the wrong result. ChessBase names only McClelland and calls it a simul tour game. William McClelland was a Manchester player. Samuel Wright was a member of the Liverpool club since 1853 and may have been the other player involved.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. Bc4 Bc5 5. 0–0 d6 6. c3 Bg4 7. Qb3 B×f3 8. B×f7† Kf8 9. g×f3 Nf6 10. Bg5 Ne5 11. Bh5 h6 12. B×f6 Q×f6 13. c×d4 B×d4 14. Bg4 h5 15. Bh3 g5 16. Nd2 g4 17. Bg2 Ke7 18. Rac1 Bb6 19. Rc3 Rag8 The Albion just says “QR to Kt sq.” Here Bachmann and Pickard (game 419 in his database; game 985 in his book) have 19. … Rab8 which makes little sense. The rook must have gone to g8, as Burn’s note to move 23 indicates. 20. Rfc1 c6 21. Kh1 Kd8 22. Nc4 g×f3 23. Bh3 “If White plays 23. B×f3 Black wins at once by 23. … Qg5 attacking the Rook and threatening mate.” Note that if the Black QR were on b8 as Bachmann has it, there would be no threat of mate on g2 and (at the end of the game) Black’s K would lack a flight square. 23. … Ng4 24. R×f3 N×f2† 25. R×f2 Q×f2 26. N×b6 a×b6 27.  Rf1 Qd4 28.  Qf7 Q×e4† 29.  Rf3 Qe1† 30.  Rf1 Qe7 31. Qb3 Qe4† 32. Rf3 Kc7 0–1. Here Burn states that White resigned. This is obviously correct since 33. Qf7† can be met by Kb8. Bachmann (having the Black rook on the wrong square) wrote that White mates in two moves, and Pickard ends the game “33. Qf7† 1–0.”

445. Steinitz–A. Steinkühler and J. Baddeley Manchester consultation, March 1874 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 369); C.O.L.C.M., I (April 1874), page 66.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. Na4 B×f2† 4. K×f2 Qh4† 5. Ke3 Qf4† 6. Kd3 d5 7. Kc3 Q×e4 8. Kb3 Nc6 9. c3 b5 10. Nc5

234

Steinitz in London

Na5† 11. Ka3 Nc4† 12. B×c4 Q×c4 13. d4 a5 14. Qe2 Q×e2 15. N×e2 e4 16. b3 Ne7 17. Bf4 c6 18. Kb2 f6 19. a4 Kf7 20. a×b5 c×b5 21. Bc7 Nc6 22. Nf4 Ne7 23. Rhf1 Re8 24. B×a5 g5 25. Ne2 f5 26. g3 Kg6 27. Bc7 R×a1 28. R×a1 Nc6 29. b4 Rf8 30. Ra8 Kg7 31. Bd6 Re8 32. Kc2 Rd8 33. Be5† N×e5 34. d×e5 Rf8 35. e6 Rg8 36. Kd2 Kf6 37. Ra7 Rg7 38. R×g7 K×g7 39. Ke3 Kf6 40. Nd4 1–0

446. Steinitz–J. Fish Queen’s knight odds, Manchester Union CC, March 1874 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 370); The Field, 14 March 1874; C.P.C. (April 1874), pages 42–43; Ellis, Chess Sparks (game 188), page 67.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. 0–0 h6 6. d4 Ne7 7.  c3 0–0 8.  g3 f×g3 9.  B×g5 g×h2† 10.  Kh1 h×g5 11.  N×g5 Nf5 12.  R×f5 d5 13.  Qh5 B×f5 14.  e×f5 Q×g5 15. Q×g5 d×c4 16. f6 1–0

447. S. Hamel–Steinitz Casual game, Manchester, March 1874 Irregular KP Opening (C20) Bachmann (game 358) mistakenly says this was played at Nottingham, where Hamel lived, but he was also a member of the Manchester Chess Club, having relatives in the city and often visiting on business. He first published it with the following notes in the Nottingham and Midland Counties Daily Express, 17 March 1874 (repeated 21 March), which says: MR. STEINITZ AT MANCHESTER. The following hard fought game, played a few days ago, we recommend to the careful study of all advanced players. Only those that have themselves encountered this redoubtable champion, will be enabled to appreciate the difficulty making a serious stand against this champion and master of the royal game.

1. e4 e5 2. b3 Bc5 3. Bb2 d6 4. d3 Nc6 5. Be2 Nf6 6. h3 Be6 7. Nf3 h6 8. Nbd2 Qe7 9. 0–0 0–0 10. c3 Bb6 11. d4 e×d4 12. c×d4 d5 13. e5 Ne4 14. Bd3 f5 15. e×f6 N×f6 16. Re1 Qf7 17. a3 Nh5 18. Qc2 Nf4 19. Kh2 Rae8 20. Re3 Qh5 The game has been played with the utmost care on both sides, but the champion appears to have somehow or other imperceptably [sic] gained the attack in his usual masterly style. 21. Bf1 The only move to avert some loss. 21. … Bf5 22. Qc3 Ne6 Well played. 23. Be2 Qf7 24. Bb5 Ne×d4 “If White instead of move 23. had once played B to Q Kt 5, Black could not have ventured to capture this pawn, owing his K Kt pawn not being guarded by the Queen. The advanced student, we trust, will take a lesson how the loss of time, in a single move, will turn the tables.” 25. B×c6 N×c6 26. R×e8 R×e8 27. Rf1 Re2 28. Kg1 Be4 29. b4 a6 … (unfinished.) The game was here abandoned for want of time, but there can scarcely be a doubt of the result against the champion of the world, with a pawn ahead and the best position. We can, however, but compliment the

gallant fight of Black [sic] against such a master, and would, against any other player, fairly consider him entitled to claim a draw.

448. A. Steinkühler–Steinitz Casual game, Manchester 1874 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann (game 372); notes by Burn from the Liverpool Weekly Albion, 14 March 1874. See also see Alan Smith’s “Quotes and Queries 5987” in B.C.M., CXXXII (November 2012), page 592, pointing out that many sources follow Bachmann in stating the wrong result. The date of the game is uncertain but it was probably from the same visit to Manchester as the above games.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. c3 Nf6 5. d3 “As we stated in our ‘Hints on Chess’ this is the best move for White. Herr Zukertort, however, in his ‘Analytical Excursions’ in the first number of the City of London Chess Magazine says it is very weak on account of Black’s reply 5. … d5.” 5. … d5 6. e×d5 N×d5 7. 0–0 “Here Zukertort gives the following continuation: 7. b4 Bb6 8. B×d5 Q×d5 9. c4 Qd7 (best) 10. c5 N×b4 and White wins a piece but gets the worst of the game. If, however, instead of winning the piece, White plays 7. castles, the move adopted by Herr Steinkühler in the present game, he obtains the advantage in position. In fact, as Herr Zukertort himself acknowledges towards the close of his analysis, Black’s best reply to 5. d3 is not 5. … d5 (on the strength of which he condemns White’s fifth move) but 5. … d6 which, as he says, leads to an equal game. His condemnation of White’s move 5. d3 therefore falls to the ground as it has never been shown that White can do more than obtain an even game in the ‘Giuoco Piano.’” 7. … Bb6 8. Re1 0–0 9. N×e5 N×e5 10. R×e5 B×f2† 11. Kh1 Nf6 12. Bg5 Bb6 13. Qf1 Bd7 14. Nd2 h6 15. B×f6 Q×f6 16. Q×f6 g×f6 17. Re7 Bc6 18. Rf1 Kg7 19. Ne4 B×e4 20. R×e4 Rae8 21. Ref4 Re7 22. R×f6 h5 23. R6f5 Kh6 24. Rf6† Kg7 25. d4 c5 26. d×c5 “26 d5 would probably have been better. White wins a pawn, however, by the move made.” 26. … B×c5 27. R6f5 Bd6 28. R×h5 Re5 29. R×e5 “White should have guarded against the exchange of rooks, the bishops being of opposite colours.” 29. … B×e5 30. g3 f5 31. Be6 f4 32. g×f4 R×f4 33. R×f4 B×f4 34. Kg2 Bc1 35. b3 Bd2 36. c4 b6 37. a4 a6 38. h4 (see diagram) … (1–0).

After 38. h4

wDwDwDwD DwDwDwiw p0wDBDwD DwDwDwDw PDPDwDw) DPDwDwDw wDwgwDKD DwDwDwDw

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876 Bachmann, Pickard and others say this game was a draw, but Burn wrote in the Albion: And after a severe struggle of about twenty more moves White finally won the game, although we believe that with the best play on both sides White can do no more than draw, in spite of being two pawns ahead, the bishops being of opposite colours.

After a few days presumably spent at home in London, Steinitz was a guest of Cambridge University Chess Club from 16–20 March.4 The City of London Chess Magazine said that during his five days in Cambridge, he lost no games but three were drawn against him. Just two of these survive. One of these was a game he played against consulting partners (Game 448) which was included in a later issue of the magazine. It provided no details of his other games. Steinitz himself said nothing about this in The Field. Such reports in the British Newspaper Archive that mention the Cambridge University chess club around this time are concerned with the upcoming match against Oxford. Steinitz presumably was invited to Cambridge at this time to assist the students in their preparations; the following year he visited Oxford instead. Bachmann says that on Steinitz’s first day in Cambridge, Monday, 16 March, he played a 17-board simultaneous exhibition, in which the following was one of the games, but this is one of the cases where we were unable to trace his source. At this date William Ernest Evill (who never played in the match with Oxford) was just a student; he had gone up to Cambridge in 1871. He graduated in 1875 and was later ordained a priest of the Church of England. Evill remained an active chess player at least to 1914, when he was a member of the British Correspondence Chess Association.

449. Steinitz–W. E. Evill Cambridge University simul, 16 March 1874 Bishop’s Opening (C23) Bachmann (game 359) from an unknown source.

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Bc5 3. b4 B×b4 4. f4 d6 5. Nf3 Nd7 6. 0–0 Ngf6 7. c3 Ba5 8. f×e5 N×e5 9. N×e5 d×e5 10. Ba3 Bb6† 11. Kh1 c5 12. d4 0–0 13. Nd2 e×d4 14. e5 Ng4 15. e6 Ne3 16. e×f7† Kh8 17. Qh5 d×c3 18. B×c5 B×c5 19. Q×c5 N×c4 20. N×c4 Be6 21. Ne5 Qc8 22. Qd4 Qd8 23. Q×c3 Rc8 24.  Qf3 Qg5 25.  Rae1 Rc2 26.  Rf2 Bd5 27.  R×c2 B×f3 28. N×f3 Qf5 29. Rc7 R×f7 30. R×b7 h6 31. Rb8† Kh7 32. Ree8 Qf4 33. h4 Re7 34. Rh8† Kg6 35. Rbf8 ½–½ The second of the surviving drawn games is below. The identity of Steinitz’s three young opponents has been traced in the reference work Alumni Cantabrigienses.5 John Neville Keynes (1852–1949) was an economist and father of the more famous (Lord) John Maynard Keynes. Walter William Rouse Ball (1859–1925) was called to the bar in 1876 (Inner Temple) but returned to Cambridge academia in 1878, and is best

235

known as an historian of mathematics. Joseph Shield Nicholson (1873–1950) was to have an even more distinguished academic career as professor of political economy at the University of Edinburgh, 1880–1925. Venn says he was “The pioneer of economic history in Scotland.”

450. J. N. Keynes, W. W. R. Ball and J. S. Nicholson–Steinitz Cambridge University consultation game, 18 March 1874 Ruy Lopez (C77) Bachmann (game 360) from C.O.L.C.M., I (June 1874), page 125.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. d3 d6 6. Nc3 g6 7. d4 e×d4 8. N×d4 Bd7 9. 0–0 Bg7 10. N×c6 b×c6 11. Re1 0–0 12. Bg5 h6 13. Bd2 Rb8 14. Qc1 Kh7 15. Nd1 Nh5 16. c3 f5 17. e×f5 R×f5 18. Bc2 Re5 19. R×e5 B×e5 20. Ne3 d5 21. g3 Qf6 22. Ng2 Qg7 23. Nh4 Be8 24. Bd3 c5 25.  b3 Nf6 26.  B×a6 Ne4 27.  Nf3 Bf6 28.  Qc2 N×d2 29. N×d2 B×c3 30. Rc1 Bb4 31. Bd3 Bf7 32. Nb1 Rf8 33. a3 Ba5 34. Q×c5 Bb6 35. Qc3 Qg8 36. b4 Be6 37. Rc2 Qf7 38. Qe1 Bh3 39. Nc3 Qf3 40. Bf1 B×f1 41. Q×f1 d4 42. Nd1 Re8 43. Nb2 Q×a3 44. Qc4 Kg7 45. Nd3 ½–½ The following game was also played against the Cambridge man from the previous chapter playing alternation games with Steinitz. De Soyres again played first board against Oxford in the second varsity match, hosted by the City of London Chess Club on Friday, 27 March, at the same venue as the previous year, and again with Steinitz as umpire.6 Once again that match drew a great attendance, and Staunton was noticed among the spectators, probably the last time before his death in June that he appeared in public at a chess event.7 So this game was probably played in the capital around that date. In the source, Burn’s newspaper column, it follows a game at the same odds between Bird and De Soyres.

451. J. de Soyres–Steinitz Pawn and move odds, London? March 1874 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 371); from the Liverpool Weekly Albion, 25 April 1874.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. e×d5 e×d5 4. Bd3 Nf6 5. Nf3 Be7 6. 0–0 0–0 7. Be3 Bg4 8. Nbd2 Nc6 9. h3 Bh5 10. c3 Bd6 11. Qc2 Qd7 12. Bf5 Qe7 13. Rae1 Rae8 14. g4 Bf7 15. Bg5 Qd8 16. B×f6 Q×f6 17. B×h7† Kh8 18. Qf5 Qh6 19. Ng5 R×e1 20. R×e1 Bg8 21. Re8 Burn wrote “A tempting blunder, we must allow,” but Stockfish 10 says this is the best move. 21. … R×e8 22. B×g8 Nd8 Indispensable. 23. B×d5? This is the real blunder; 23. Bf7 is strong while 23. Nf7† leads to a draw. 23. … Rf8 0–1 “And White resigned, as he must eventually lose two pieces for the Rook, and probably a pawn or two. Between equal players, however, a draw might have ensued.”

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Steinitz in London

De Soyres also has a connection to the following game. He wrote a letter headed “A Stereotyped Game of Chess” published in the Westminster Papers, VII (October 1874), pages 108–109. It is identical to a game that was published in the book by Suhle and Neumann, Neueste Theorie, and on page 153 in the Leipziger Schachzeitung (as Kliefoth– Schliemann). De Soyres said he also won in it London, and that both Zukertort and Steinitz told him they had won the identical game. There are no details about when or against whom Steinitz played it.

452. Steinitz–Amateur London, 1874? Scotch Gambit (C44)

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. Bc4 Bc5 5. Ng5 Nh6 6. Qh5 Qe7 7. 0–0 Ne5 8. Bb3 d6 9. h3 Bd7 10. f4 Ng6 11. f5 d3† 12.  Kh1 d×c2 13.  Nc3 Ne5 14.  Nd5 Qd8 15.  f6 0–0 16. Ne7† Kh8 17. f×g7† K×g7 18. Q×h6† K×h6 19. Ne6† Kh5 20. Ng7† and Black is mated in a few moves (1–0).

Back in London Kolisch came from Paris to London for a few days in the summer (approximately 8–11 June, according to his biographer) but it is unknown whether he met Steinitz on that occasion. It appears to have been a short holiday to take in a dinner with Bird and Staunton, who died shortly afterwards. Kolisch seems not to have played any chess on this visit.8 For Steinitz, the death of Staunton provoked a lengthy obituary, which was the main item in his column for The Field on 4 July. This is the notorious article in which Steinitz tried to claim that Buckle “was by far the greatest player England ever produced, and much superior to Staunton” on grounds of results in off-hand games with Löwenthal and Anderssen. Normally Steinitz was able to write fair and objective assessments even of people whom he disliked and who had done him wrong. He said Staunton made his name with the win against Saint-Amant who was not that strong but “the element of national rivalry tended to raise Mr. Staunton’s achievement on this occasion beyond its real merit.” He thought the win against Harrwitz at the odds of pawn and two was a fluke due to Harrwitz’s endeavoring to force the game early in the opening. On the other hand, Steinitz considered “it was no mean thing” not to let Harrwitz win one game of the seven played level. Also Steinitz gave him credit for his big win over Horwitz, “who was unquestionably one of the strongest players of his time,” and from 1843 to 1851 Staunton beat all opponents including “the brilliant Mr. Cochrane, who still gives first-rate players of our day the greatest trouble in occasional encounters.” Here are some further extracts:

… Estimating his play as a whole, we may fairly express the opinion that some of his best achievements have been much underrated, while on the other hand an almost fictitious value has been placed upon some of his inferior exploits…. Little can be said of Mr. Staunton’s influence as a chess author and chess critic. Great credit is certainly due to him for having been one of the first who successfully grafted chess on our weekly periodical literature…. His knowledge of the game, aided by a forcible and sometimes amusingly sarcastic style of writing, caused his comments upon passing events in the chess world, and his notes to the games he published, to be very attractive to the general public, and in this way he did a great deal of good for the spread of the game; which was, however, too frequently counteracted by his allowing his own chess ambition greatly to influence his judgment upon others; and from the top of the chess ladder to which he had risen in public estimation, he cast down his missiles upon everyone who endeavoured to ascend after him.

Also, to paraphrase, Steinitz listed two other major “sins” committed by Staunton. Firstly, he “alienated many of his sincere friends and admirers” by his treatment of Anderssen when a projected match between them (after the 1851 tournament) never came off.9 Secondly, Staunton “aroused much indignation” by his treatment of Morphy, for example, publishing in the Illustrated London News slurs about Morphy not having backers for a match which he (Staunton) was intent on avoiding. This lie was not withdrawn until months later under much pressure on him “by most influential chess amateurs.”

453. Steinitz–G. Rippin City of London Chess Club simul, 2 September 1874 Dutch Defense (A81) Bachmann (game 377) from C.O.L.C.M., I (1874), page 224. This is the only surviving game score from a 20-board simul that Steinitz played at the City of London Chess Club. He scored 17 wins, 2 losses and one draw.

1. d4 f5 2. g3 Nf6 3. Bg2 c6 4. Nf3 e6 5. 0–0 Bd6 6. c4 Bc7 7. Nc3 0–0 8. d5 Na6 9. a3 Nc5 10. d6 Bb8 11. b4 Nce4 12. N×e4 N×e4 13. c5 b6 14. Nd2 Qf6 15. N×e4 Q×a1 16. Ng5 Qf6 17.  Qb3 Bb7 18.  f4 a5 19.  Bb2 Qg6 20.  Nf3 a×b4 21. a×b4 b×c5 22. b×c5 Ba6 23. Ne5 Qe8 24. Qc3 Rf6 25. Re1 Bb5 26. e4 Ra4 27. e×f5 Ba7 28. Ng4 1–0 The next two games are said to be from a match at knight odds between Steinitz and Bodé. Forster (in the index to his Burn book) has a guess at Adolphe for the opponent’s forename but page 40 of the 1857 Manchester report shows the initials C. H., who was probably Charles Henry Bodé, a member of Manchester Chess Club ca. 1853–1871. Bodé was in Frankfurt-am-Main by 1880, playing in a lesser tournament at Wiesbaden; while at another time he was a resident of London.10 The October City of London Chess Magazine, on page 211, said the match had just begun. It commented: “The only chance for the odds giver in such a contest, we imagine, lies in the fact that Mr. Bodé is a brave player, full of ingenuity, otherwise we should have thought him too

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876 strong for such heavy odds.” Steinitz, they said, had won the first game. The November number (page 236) said Steinitz had won four and two others were drawn. Page 269 says the match was to consist “of the definite number of 21 games”; Steinitz now led 8–2 with 3 draws so some more play still lay ahead. No more reports appeared and the Westminster Papers did not mention the contest.

454. Steinitz–C. H. Bodé

237

31 October 1874. The opponent’s name was spelled “Hutley” in C.O.L.C.M., I (page 253), and in Bachmann but “Huttley” in The Field and W.P. (November 1874) match lists. Rod Edwards has also seen “Huttly” in 1882 and thinks the opponent may have been E. J. Huttley (who was mentioned in B.C.M., June 1896, page 231). This game was also in the Dubuque Chess Journal, VIII (1875), page 31.

1. f4 d5 2. e3 c5 3. Nf3 Nc6 4. b3 Nf6 5. Bb2 e6 6. Qe2 a5 7. a4 b6 8. 0–0–0 Ba6 9. d3 Bd6 10. Kb1 d4 11. e×d4 c×d4 12. f5 e5 13. N×d4 N×d4 14. B×d4 0–0 15. Bb2 Re8 16. Qf3 Qc7 17. Be2 Rac8 18. c4 Bb7 19. Qh3 Bc5 20. Rhe1 Rcd8 21. g4 Bd4 22. g5 Nd7 23. Bc1 Nc5 24. Ka2 Qc6 25. f6 N×a4 26. Bd2 Nc5 27. Bg4 Qg2 28. Qh5 N×d3 29. Bf5 Nb4† 30. Kb1 h6 31. f×g7 Bf3 White mates in five moves: 32. Bh7† K×g7 33. Q×h6† Kh8 34. Bg6† Kg8 35. Qh7† Kf8 36. Q×f7 mate (1–0).

1. e4 d5 Steinitz in The Field: “A very good move when receiving the odds of the Queen’s Knight, though it has been proved disadvantageous to the second player when adopted in a game on even terms.” 2. f3 Blackburne and Potter in C.O.L.C.M.: “A novelty, but one well worth trying considering the odds. It would destroy any previous cramming on the part of the opponent.” 2. … e5 3. Ne2 Nf6 4. c3 Nc6 5. Ng3 Bc5 6. a4 a5 7. Bb5 Bd7 8. Qe2 Qe7 9. d3 h6 10. Bd2 Qd6 11. d4 e×d4 12. B×c6 b×c6 13. e5 d3 14. Q×d3 Q×e5† 15. Kd1 0–0 16. Kc2 Bb6 17. Rae1 Qd6 18. Ne2 Rfe8 19. g4 c5 20. Kc1 c4 21. Qc2 Be3 22. h4 B×d2† 23. Q×d2 N×g4 24.  f×g4 B×g4 25.  Nf4 c6 26.  Reg1 Bf5? 27.  Nh5 Bg6 28. N×g7! K×g7 29. h5 Re6? 30. h×g6 R×g6?? 31. Q×h6† Kf6 32. R×g6† f×g6 33. Rf1† 1–0

455. Steinitz–C. H. Bodé

457. Steinitz–Amateur

Knight odds match, London, 1874 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 374); from the C.O.L.C.M., I (January 1875), pages 310–311 which has notes by Potter. This time.

Queen’s rook odds, London? 1874 (or possibly 1873) Remove White’s queen’s rook Bachmann (game 308) dates the game 1873 but the primary source is C.O.L.C.M., I (October 1874), game 70, page 230. In Pickard’s book, game 649, and his CD database, game 361, this was shown as being played on level terms in 1873, but we have found no evidence for that dating.

Knight odds match, London, 1874 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 375); notes by Potter in the C.O.L.C.M., I (November 1874), pages 261–262.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. e3 Be7 5. Bd3 Nc6 6. c5 Bd7 7. a3 e5 8. Ne2 e4 9. Bc2 h5 10. b4 a6 11. Bd2 Be6 12. a4 0–0 13. Nf4 Bg4 14. f3 e×f3 15. g×f3 g5 16. Ng2 Bh3 17. Qe2 Re8 18. 0–0–0 Kh8 19. Rhg1 b5 20. a5 Bf8 21. Qd3 Ne7 22. e4 d×e4 23. f×e4 Bh6 24. Nh4 Bg4 25. e5 g×h4 26. B×h6 1–0. Black resigned; the following is only a variation in the C.O.L.C.M. notes: 26. … Bf5 27. Bg7† Kh7 28. Q×f5† N×f5 29. B×f5† Kg8 30. B×f6† Kf8 31. Bh7, although Bachmann (game 374) and Pickard give these moves as played. On 23 October, Steinitz was on the first board in an unusual match where the first class players of the City of London club (including also Zukertort and Blackburne) met the Bermondsey club, conceding a knight on each board and winning 9–3. It was said that some of the Bermondsey players seemed nervous at meeting such famous antagonists and played below their usual strength.11 This was the last occasion when de Vere played chess in public; he won his game.

456. Steinitz–E. J. Huttley (?) City of London Chess Club v. Bermondsey Chess Club, 23 October 1874 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 378). Annotated by Steinitz in The Field,

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Nc6 3. Nf3 Nf6 4. f×e5 N×e4 5. d3 Nc5 6. d4 Na6 7. Bc4 Qe7 8. Nc3 h6 9. 0–0 g5 10. Nd5 Qd8 11. Nf6† Ke7 12. N×g5 h×g5 13. Qh5 R×h5 14. Ng8† Ke8 15. B×f7 mate (1–0). The Illustrated London News mentioned, in a brief paragraph headed “new matches” on 17 October 1874, that Bird had challenged Steinitz to a match of either 7 or 11 games but that negotiations had not gone beyond the preliminary stage, “Mr. Steinitz, we understand, refuses to play for a less stake than £100 a side.” Other papers do not appear to have reported this.

458. W. T. Chappell, W.E. Vyse and W. H. Watts–Steinitz Pawn and two moves odds consultation, Peckham (south London), 19 December 1874 Remove Black’s f-pawn Bachmann (game 379); C.O.L.C.M., II (March 1875), pages 50–53 with extensive notes by Potter. “Played at H. F. Gastineau’s party on 19 December last, Steinitz conceding odds of f-pawn and two moves to Messrs. Chappell,

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Steinitz in London

Vyse & Watts, who were in consultation.” All members of the consulting team were prominent members of the City of London Chess Club. The party itself was described in the January 1875 number on pages 293–294.

1. e4 AND 2. d4 c6 3. f4 g6 4. Bd3 Bg7 5. e5 e6 6. h4 Ne7 7. Qg4 d6 8. Nf3 c5 9. h5 c×d4 10. h×g6 h6 11. N×d4 0–0 12. N×e6 Qb6 13. R×h6 Qg1† 14. Ke2 B×h6 15. Qh3 B×e6 16. Q×e6† Kh8 17. Qh3 Kg7 18. Be3 Q×e3† 19. Q×e3 Nd5 20. Qd4 N×f4† 21. Kd1 Nc6 22. Q×d6 Rae8 23. Nd2 R×e5 24. Nf3 Re6 25. Qd7† Re7 26. Qg4 Nd5 27. Qh3 Ne3† 28. Kd2 N×g2† 29. Kc3 Nf4 30. Qg4 Nd5† 31. Kb3 R×f3 32. Rh1 Ne3 33. Qh5 Nf5 34. a3 Rf2 35. Ka2 Ncd4 36. Kb1 Re3 37.  Qd1 Re6 38.  c3 Rb6 39.  b4 Ne6 40.  Qh5 Bg5 41. Qh7† Kf6 42. B×f5 Ng7 43. Bd3 Rf3 44. Rf1 R×f1† 45. B×f1 Rd6 46. Kc2 Rd2† 47. Kb3 a6 48. a4 Rd1 49. Qh3 Nf5 50. Bd3 Ne3 51. Qf3† 1–0 Previously Steinitz (at an unspecified date towards the end of 1874) had visited the Old Change Chess Club in the City, quite a new club which already had 80 members. He played four of them blindfold, winning three games and losing one.12 He was soon invited back and the second volume of the City of London Chess Magazine begins by informing its readers that on 4 January 1875 Steinitz played simultaneously against 20 members. “Being desirous of encouraging their visitor,” Potter wrote, “they allowed him to win them all; but on a future occasion they will probably let him see that their courtesy has its limits.” Four days later the City club held its annual general meeting; that club now numbered upwards of 400 members. Steinitz was re-elected to the committee.

459. Steinitz–Mr. E (Eccles?) Casual game, London, 19 January 1875 Vienna Game (C25) The Sportsman, 20 January 1875: “Chess in London. The following brilliant game was played yesterday between Herr Steinitz and a leading metropolitan amateur.” (Black was identified in the game header as “Mr. E.,” possibly Eccles?) This game appears to have been overlooked by Bachmann and other previous collectors of Steinitz’s oeuvre. Therefore we include the annotations in full, which were by Wisker.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nc3 Nc6 “The best answer to the Queen’s Knight opening.” 3. f4 e×f4 4. Nf3 “Herr Steinitz usually plays at this point the gambit which is called after his name, viz. 4. d4, suffering the second player to check at h4. The resulting game is exceedingly complicated, nor has the proper issue yet been determined by analysis. The move adopted in the text gives the second player a chance of obtaining the advantage.” 4. … g5 5. Bc4 Bg7 “Comparatively weak. 5. … g4 is the correct play in this position, as it compels White to play an inferior form of the Muzio. The first player has no better move than Castling, 6. 0–0 whereupon Black takes

the Knight and plays …Qf6 with a safe position and a piece plus.” 6. 0–0 h6 “Advancing the g-pawn would have been useless in this position, as White could retire his Kt to e1, speedily winning one of the advanced pawns.” 7.  d4 d6 8. Ne2 “A good move, enabling White to effectually protect his d-pawn and develope [sic] his remaining pieces.” 8. … Nf6 “Better to have moved the Knight to e7 and g6, afterwards castling on the King’s side.” 9.  Bd3 Bg4 “This is seldom a good move in the K Kt Gambit, and the present is no exception to the General rule. 9. … Qe7 is better play.” 10. c3 Qe7 11. g3 “An embarrassing move, and the natural consequence of Black’s weak ninth move. Black evidently cannot leave the pawn; yet if he take it he leaves an open file for the hostile KR, and brings the Q Kt into formidable play.” 11. … Bh3 12. Re1 f×g3 13. N×g3 0–0–0 “Although this play looks safe, it loses the game speedily. Black has an inferior game in any case, but he is safer on the king’s than on the Queen’s side. Had he castled with the other Rook he might have made a long fight of it. By castling on the Queen’s side he enables his opponent to bring all his forces to bear upon a vital, yet undefended, point.” 14. Qa4 “There is no satisfactory answer to this potent coup.” 14. … Bd7 “A plausible move, but White has a remarkable reply in store. Had Black played 14. … Kb8 the reply would have been 15. Be3.” 15. d5 Ne5 16. Q×a7 “An elegant termination.” 16. … N×f3† 17. Kf2 Bg4 “He has obviously no better play.” 18. Qa8† Kd7 19. Bb5† c6 20. B×c6† b×c6 21. Q×c6 mate (1–0).

Last Visit to Oxford, 1875 Steinitz visited Oxford University Chess Club for the fourth and last time in early February 1875. Among the papers of the club preserved in the Bodleian Library is a membership list dating from 1885. There six honorary members are named—Blackburne, William Cook, Zukertort, Hoffer, Steinitz, and Bird—but no year of election is stated for any of them, and nothing in Walker’s club history refers to honorary membership being granted. Jonathan Manley suggests that this category of membership may only have been created in the 1880s.13 Also in those papers is a torn printed notice, partly printed in red, and with Steinitz’s name spelled wrong. This is what it says: COUNCIL CHAMBER, TOWN HALL. On Tuesday next, February 2, HERR STEMITZ [sic], the Chess Champion, will play seven simultaneous blindfold games against members of the Oxford University Chess Club. Members of the University will be admitted on payment of One Shilling. Play to commence at seven o’clock.14

So on Tuesday the 2nd, Steinitz, for the fourth and last time, played blindfold in the Council Chamber of Oxford Town Hall “by the courteous consent of the Mayor of Oxford,” according to a short report in the City of London Chess Magazine. There he met “seven of the strongest members of

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876 Oxford University Chess Club,” as Steinitz subsequently wrote in The Field on 13 February. Walker’s history of the club says: Feb. 2nd.—Herr Steinitz gave a blindfold performance in the Town Hall. The following played: Brooke [sic], Connell, Meredith, Parnell, Parratt, Plunkett, and Tracey. Hon. H. C. Plunkett won his game, Meredith, Parnell, and Brooke lost, and the others were unfinished.15

Of the unfinished games, the magazine said: “One of these would most probably have ended in the favour of the blindfold player, while in the other he had the advantage of a Pawn ahead, and would have expected a draw at least.”16 That comment surely refers to Game 463 with Parratt which actually was drawn. The C.O.L.C.M. states that Steinitz’s score was four wins, one loss and two unfinished so the corrected scoreline is +4 –1 =1 and one undecided. Three scores are missing, one of which is Plunkett’s win. Either Connell or Tracey was beaten, and the other’s game was unfinished.

460. Steinitz–C. L. Brook Oxford University blindfold simul, 2 February 1875 French Defense (C15) Bachmann (game 380); this game was originally published with these light notes in Burn’s column for the Liverpool Weekly Albion, 20 February 1875. Burn and Bachmann do not give the opponent’s initials. Pickard’s database has “O. Brook” but Steinitz’s opponent was listed in The History of the Oxford University Chess Club as C. L. Brook.17 Alumni Oxonienses identifies him as Charles Lewis Brook (Trinity College) who matriculated in October 1874, aged 19, and graduated in 1878.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Bb4 “This is not so good as 3. … Nf6 as Black cannot exchange the B for the Kt with advantage. 3. … Nf6 is the correct move, and if White then advances 4. e5 Black, by retreating 4. … Nfd7 and afterwards playing …c5 obtains the better game.” 4. e×d5 B×c3† 5. b×c3 e×d5 6. Nf3 Be6 7. Bd3 Nf6 8. Ba3 Nbd7 9. 0–0 c6 10. Rb1 Qc7 11. Nd2 b6 12. f4 Ng4 13. Qf3 Ndf6 14. h3 Nh6 15. f5 Bc8 16. Rfe1† Kd8 17. Re7 Qb8 “Black has not defended himself very skilfully, and he has now a very bad position.” 18. Rbe1 Bd7 19. Bc1 Re8 “If 19. … Ne4 20. N×e4 K×e7 21. f6† etc.” 20. R×e8† N×e8 21. Nf1 Kc7 22. f6 Nd6 23. f×g7 Nhf5 24.  B×f5 B×f5 25.  Re7† Bd7 26.  Bf4 Qg8 27.  Qg3 f5 28. B×d6† Kd8 29. Qe5 Rc8 30. R×d7† Burn ends, saying “and mates next move..” 30. … K×d7 31. Qe7 mate (1–0).

461. Steinitz–S. R. Meredith Oxford University blindfold simul, 2 February 1875 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) This game is not in the usual sources; score and notes from the Oxford Undergraduates’ Journal, 4 March 1875.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 Nc6 “A mistake. 3. … d6 is the proper move.” 4. f×e5 “Herr Steinitz must have been relieved to find himself with a won game at the fourth move, but Mr. Meredith must be congratulated upon the determined man-

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ner in which he defended an untenable position.” 4. … d6 5. e×d6 Bg4 “Black throws away the scabbard with considerable vigour.” 6. c3 c×d6 7. d4 Bb6 8. Bc4 Nf6 9. 0–0 0–0 10. Bg5 h6 11. B×f6 Q×f6 12. Nbd2 Rae8 13. Kh1 Ne7 14. a4 a6 15. a5 Bc7 16. b4 Ng6 17. Qb3 “Liberating the K Kt, opening an attack upon Black’s KBP, and threatening his Q.” 17. … Nf4 18. g3 Bh3 19. Nh4 B×f1 20. R×f1 d5 “Why is this poor pawn sacrificed?” 21. B×d5 g5 22. g×f4 g×h4 23. e5 Qf5 24. Be4 Qd7 25. Nf3 Bd8 26. f5 Kh8 27. Qc2 Rg8 28. f6 h3 29. Bf5 Qc6 30. B×h3 B×f6 31. e×f6 Q×f6 32. Ne5 Qe7 33. N×f7† “At this point Tom, with great consideration, struck the hour for adjournment.”18 1–0

462. Steinitz–V. A. L. D. Parnell Oxford University blindfold simul, 2 February 1875 Petroff Defense (C41) This game is also not in the usual sources; score and notes are from the Oxford Undergraduates’ Journal, 11 February 1875. The Hon. Victor Alexander Lionel Dawson Parnell (1852–1936) was a second cousin of the Irish politician Charles Stewart Parnell. After playing in the 1875 match against Cambridge, he became a barrister, but took up chess again in later life, and was runner-up in the large postal tournament organized by B.C.M. in 1908–1912.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. d4 d6 “Played by Mr. Parnell for the first time in the present game.” 4. d×e5 N×e4 5. Bc4 Qe7 “We do not think that this move does justice to Mr. Parnell’s innovation.” 6. 0–0 Bf5 “Black’s game is bad but this move does not improve it.” 7. Re1 d×e5 “By this combination Mr. Parnell has gained a Pawn, but—“ 8. Bd5 Nc5 9. N×e5 “The last two moves of the blindfold player are very discomfiting.” 9. … Be6 10. Be3 Qf6 “Is this natural selection? For our own part we think that Black here lost an opportunity of equalising the game. Had he played the more obvious move of 10. … Nbd7 we do not quite see how Herr Steinitz could have continued his attack. We should like to see the move analysed.” 11. N×f7 Q×f7 12. B×c5 B×c5 “There is now nothing to prevent Mr. Parnell castling except—Herr Steinitz.” 13. R×e6† Be7 14. Nc3 c6 15. Bb3 Rf8 16. Ne4 Qf4 17. Nd6† Kd7 18.  Nf7† Kc7 19.  R×e7† Kb6 20.  g3 Qb4 21.  Nd6 Qc5 22. R×b7† Ka6 23. Bc4† Ka5 24. b4† “Here Steinitz should have checked with his Queen, mating next move. But it was immaterial. Perhaps he preferred breaking the news a little.” 24. … Ka4 25. c3† Ka3 26. Qb3 mate (1–0). “The play of Herr Steinitz throughout is admirable, and extremely instructive.”

463. Steinitz–W. Parratt Oxford University blindfold simul, 2 February 1875 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 381) from The Field, 13 February 1875; also D.S.Z., XXX (March 1875), pages 81–82. Walter Parratt was a fine musician who was later knighted.

240

Steinitz in London

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 Qh4† 5. Ke2 b6 6. Nb5 Ba6 7. a4 g5 8. Nf3 Qh5 9. Kd2 Kd8 10. c3 g4 11. Ne1 Bh6 12. Kc2 Nf6 13. e5 Nd5 14. Nd3 f5 15. e×f6 N×f6 16. h3 Qf5 17. h×g4 N×g4 18. R×h6 N×h6 19. B×f4 Nf7 20. Qf3 Kc8 21. N×c7 Bb7 22. Qg3 Qg6 23. N×a8 B×a8 24. Re1 Q×g3 25. B×g3 Ncd8 26. Bh4 h6 27. Re7 Nd6 28. Nf4 N8f7 29. Bd3 Bb7 30. g4 Bf3 31. Ng6 Re8 32. R×e8† N×e8 ½–½. Steinitz wrote: “At this stage the game was broken up owing to the lateness of the hour, and next day both players agreed to draw. White, though a pawn ahead, would have found it difficult to win, even over the board.” On Wednesday, 3 February, Steinitz played 13 games simultaneously against members of the club; he lost again to the Hon. Horace Curzon Plunkett (1854–1932) from University College. The C.O.L.C.M. says that, apart from this, Steinitz drew one, and scored the rest. Just two game scores from this simul have been discovered, one of which was first published only in 2018. Plunkett was an Old Etonian, the third son of Edward, Baron Dunsany. He had matriculated in 1873, aged 18, and graduated in 1878. Plunkett then spent many years in America for the sake of his health but, returning to Europe on the death of his father, he took up the cause of agricultural reform and modernization in Ireland, for which he received a knighthood and was for some years a Member of Parliament for South Dublin.19

464. H. C. Plunkett–Steinitz Oxford University Chess Club simul, 3 February 1875 Two Knights Defense (C57) Bachmann (game 356); C.P.C. (June 1875), pages 265–267. Bachmann had the year wrong, saying 1874, but Steinitz did not visit Oxford that year.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. Bc4 Nc6 4. Ng5 N×e4?! Dr. Wilson had played this double-edged move against Steinitz in 1862 (Game 82). Later Steinitz played it in Game 495 and analyzed it in The Modern Chess Instructor pages 102–105 (columns 29–33 and notes). 5. B×f7† Ke7 6. d3 On the rare occasions 4. … N×e4 has been played in recent times, White usually prefers 6. d4 (against which R. Maric revived 6. … h6) or 6. N×e4. 6. … Nf6 7. Bb3 d5 8. Nc3 h6 9. Qe2 h×g5 10.  B×g5 Be6 11.  f4 Nd4 12.  Q×e5 N×b3 13.  a×b3 Qd6 14. Ra5 Kf7 15. Rf1 Re8 16. Kd2 R×h2 17. Kc1 Bd7 18. Qd4 Qb6 19. B×f6 Q×a5 20. Be5 Bc5 21. Q×d5† Be6 22. Qf3 Bc8 23. Ne4 Qa1† 24. Kd2 Bb4† 25. Ke2 Qa5 26. Qg3 Reh8 27. Q×g7† Ke6 28. f5† Kd5 29. c4† Kc6 30. Qg6† Bd6 31. B×h8 R×h8 32. c5 Qa2 33. c×d6 Q×b2† 34. Ke3 Rd8 35. d7† Kb5 36. d×c8Q Qd4† 37. Kf4 R×c8 38. Qe6 Q×d3 39. Qc4† Q×c4 40. b×c4† Kc6 41. g4 “and Herr Steinitz shortly resigned” (1–0).

465. Steinitz–F. Madan Oxford University Chess Club simul, 3 February 1875 Bishop’s Opening (C23)

This game was found many years ago by the author in a manuscript file at the Bodleian Library in Oxford, which included a folder of manuscript scoresheets.20 That was at a time when one was not allowed to take photographs of documents and we were unable to decipher the score beyond Black’s 22nd move. So the game remained unpublished. Subsequently Jon Manley, editor of Kingpin, managed to reconstruct the complete game as shown below. He first published it in June 2018 at www.kingpinchess.net/2018/06/herr-stemitz-and-the-librarian. In his article Manley originally believed that this was a game from Steinitz’s blindfold exhibition, but Madan did not play on that occasion. On his scoresheet Madan wrote “Not a good game” and that this game was played “in the O.U. Chess Club Rooms, February 1875.” So it was probably from the 13-board simultaneous display next day.

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Bc5 3. b4 B×b4 4. f4 Nc6 5. Nf3 d6 6. 0–0 Nf6 7. d3 Be6 8. Bb3 Bc5† 9. Kh1 0–0 10. f5 B×b3 11. a×b3 d5 12. Qe2 d4 13. Bg5 Be7 14. Nbd2 h6 15. Bh4 Nh7 16. Bg3 Bf6 17. Nc4 Qe7 18. Na5 N×a5 19. R×a5 b6 20. Ra6 c5 21. Nd2 g6 22. f×g6 f×g6 23. Rfa1 Qe6 24. R×a7 R×a7 25. R×a7 Rb8 26. Nf3 g5 27. Qf1 Nf8? 28. N×e5! B×e5 29. B×e5 Q×e5 30. Qf7† Kh8 31. Re7 Ra8 32. g3 Q×e7 33. Q×e7 Kg8 34. Qb7 1–0 One week later, on 9 February, de Vere died in Torquay but he had been only a shadow of himself in recent months although in March 1874 he had been able to play in the final pool of the City of London Handicap and even won a game from Zukertort. At the Bermondsey match on 23 October 1874 friends were shocked by de Vere’s appearance. “He could scarcely walk and had almost stopped eating.”21 He won his game nonetheless. The City of London club held its annual dinner on 10 February 1875 and presumably Steinitz was there, but, unlike many other years, little was said about it in the press and it was presumably a low-key affair.

Games in London and Glasgow, 1875 Steinitz had no serious matches or tournaments in 1875 but continued to play exhibition games; he paid numerous visits to chess clubs, although few of the games he played were preserved. For example, on 17 March he went to Woolwich Chess Club in south London, where he played “several simultaneous over-the-board games, all of which he won,” according to the City of London Chess Magazine. He also played two blindfold games and won one of them, but Sergeant-Major Adamson (from the Arsenal presumably) held Steinitz to a draw. The Kentish Independent of 26 February

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876 1876, at the time of his match with Blackburne, stated that “Mr. Steinitz is an honorary member of the Woolwich Chess Club.”22 Presumably he also continued to play some games for small money stakes, although Steinitz no longer had to rely on this for his bread and butter. His literary duties may have left him with less time for this than of old. The following game scores are all those which survive from 1875 subsequent to the Oxford visit.

466. Seymour–Steinitz Casual game, London, March? 1875 Two Knights Defense (C55) Bachmann (game 383); notes by Zukertort in the C.O.L.C.M., II (April 1875), pages 83–84, where Seymour was described as “a strong Metropolitan amateur.”

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. Nc3 N×e4 5. N×e4 d5 6.  Bb5 d×e4 7.  N×e5 Qd5 8.  B×c6† b×c6 9.  Ng4 Ba6 10. Ne3 Qd4 11. f3 Bc5 12. f×e4 0–0 13. d3 f5 14. Qf3 Rae8 15. N×f5 R×f5 16. Q×f5 Bb4† 17. Kd1 B×d3 18. Qg5 B×c2† 19. K×c2 Q×e4† 20. Kb3 Rb8 21. a3 Bd2† 22. Ka2 Qc4† 23. Kb1 Qd3† 24. Ka2 Qb3† 25. Kb1 B×g5 0–1 On 19 March 1875 Steinitz officiated as umpire at the third Oxford versus Cambridge University match, hosted once more by the City of London Chess Club. On 2 June he gave a 17-board simultaneous exhibition there, against opponents named in the the City of London Chess Magazine. “Herr Steinitz vanquished all his opponents except Mr. Brunetti. The game with the latter was lost by a slip, but was re-played, and won by the single player, who thus won 17 games as against 1 lost.”23 Two of his wins have been preserved.

467. Steinitz–A. Mocatta City of London Chess Club simul, 2 June 1875 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 382); Liverpool Weekly Albion, 12 June 1875 (notes by Burn).

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 “The Vienna Gambit is one of Herr Steinitz’s favourite openings, and he has discovered numerous ingenious ways of carrying on the attack, notably the remarkable variation called the ‘Steinitz Gambit.’” 2. … Bc5 3. f4 d6 “Black judiciously declines the gambit.” 4. Nf3 Nc6 “4. … Nf6 is better. The move in the text allows the first player to pin the Knight with advantage.” 5. Bb5 Bg4 6. d3 Nf6 7. h3 B×f3 8. Q×f3 e×f4 9. B×f4 0–0 10. B×c6 b×c6 11. Ne2 Rb8 “This move savours too much of lost time. 11. … Re8 looks preferable.” 12. d4 Bb4† 13. c3 Ba5 14. b4 Bb6 15. Bg5 Re8 16. B×f6 g×f6 “Black has a very bad game, perhaps an irretrievable one. Still it would have been better to have taken with the Q.” 17. Ng3 c5 18. Nh5 Re6 19. b×c5 d×c5 20. 0–0 Qd7 “Surely 20. … c×d4 would have been better.” 21. d5 Rd6 22. Qg3† Kf8 23. Qg7† Ke7 24. e5 “The finishing stroke.”

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24. … R×d5 25. Q×f6† “The concluding moves are played in Herr Steinitz’s most finished style.” 25. … Ke8 26. Qh8† Ke7 27. R×f7† K×f7 28. Qg7† Ke8 29. Nf6† 1–0

468. Steinitz–C. Moriau City of London Chess Club simul, 2 June 1875 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 376) and Pickard wrongly date this game June 1874. It was annotated by Blackburne for C.O.L.C.M., II (July 1875), pages 178–179. On page 162 of that volume, Morian [sic] was described as “a French gentleman and strong player, who has lately joined the City Club”; one week after this game he was the sole winner in Zukertort’s blindfold exhibition at the club. On page 178 his name was given correctly.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nc6 5. Bb5 Bg4 6. d3 Nf6 7. h3 B×f3 8. Q×f3 0–0 9. Ne2 Nb4 10. Ba4 b5 11. Bb3 a5 12. c3 a4 13. Bd1 Nc6 14. f5 h6 15. g4 Nh7 16. h4 f6 17. b4 Bb6 18. Ng1 Qe7 19. Nh3 Nd8 20. g5 f×g5 21. h×g5 h×g5 22. Qh5 Nf7 23. a3? Rad8 24. Ra2 d5 25. Nf4 Nf6 26. Ng6 Qd6 27. Qh3 Rfe8 28. Rd2 Qc6 29. Bc2 “The artful manner in which White in the next few moves lures his adversary on to destruction brings to our recollection the fable of the spider and the fly.” 29. … Q×c3 30. Kd1 d×e4 31. Bb1 e×d3 32. Ba2 Qc4 “Black now realises his position, but too late; he only struggles against the inevitable.” 33. B×c4 b×c4 34. Rg2 c3 35. B×g5 N×g5 36. R×g5 Kf7 37. Qg3 c2† 38. Kc1 1–0

469. J. H. Blackburne and J. H. Zukertort– Steinitz and W. N. Potter Prize consultation games (1), London, 17 June 1875 Scotch Game (C45) Bachmann (game 385); C.O.L.C.M., II (July 1875), pages 162 and 185–186; The Field, XLVI (3 July 1875), page 8; W.P, VIII (July 1875), page 55; Blackburne #215. The following interesting game was played at a chess party given by Mr. Eccles, a prominent metropolitan amateur, at his residence in Kensington, and for a prize liberally offered by the host. The contest was regulated by a time limit of twelve moves per hour, each side being allowed twenty minutes’ grace once during the game on calling for it.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Nf6 5. N×c6 b×c6 6. Bd3 d5 7. Qe2 Be7 8. 0–0 0–0 9. Bf4 Rb8 10. Nd2 Re8 11. e5 Bf8 12. Nb3 Nd7 13. Bg3 c5 14. c4 d4 15. f4 Rb6 16. Rae1 Nb8 17. Qc2 g6 18. Nd2 f5 19. e×f6 R×e1 20. B×e1 Q×f6 21. Ne4 Qe7 22. Ng3 Nc6 23. a3 Bg7 24. Bd2 Bd7 25. Re1 Qf8 26. b4 c×b4 27. c5 Rb8 28. a×b4 Re8 29. R×e8 B×e8 30. b5 Nd8 31. Qa2† Kh8 32. Q×a7 Ne6 33. b6 Q×c5 34. Qa8 Q×b6 35. Q×e8† Nf8 36. Qf7 Some databases end here, wrongly calling this a solo Blackburne–Steinitz game. 36. … Ne6 37. f5 g×f5 38. N×f5 1–0

242

Steinitz in London

On 10 July, Gastineau held another of his summer parties at Peckham, reported at some length in the August number of the City of London Chess Magazine (pages 195–196). Most of the usual celebrity guests are mentioned as having been there (Löwenthal, Horwitz, Bird, Blackburne, Potter et al.) but on this occasion Steinitz is not mentioned as attending and nor is Zukertort. It seems likely that a dispute, discussed below, had led to their not receiving invitations this time. The next game, played two weekends later, shows that Steinitz was still in favor in other quarters.

470. J. H. Blackburne and W. N. Potter– Steinitz and J. H. Zukertort Prize consultation games (2), London, 24 July 1875 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 384); The Field, XLVI (31 July 1875), page 121; C.O.L.C.M., II (August 1875), pages 221–223; W.P., VIII (August 1875), page 71; Blackburne (game 216). The host, E. Kunwald, was a member of both the St. George’s and City of London Chess Clubs. According to Potter, “he invited a numerous company of members of the two Clubs to which he belongs to witness the contest.” The game began at 5 p.m., and after a break of an hour for a “magnificent supper” at 10:30 p.m., continued until 4 a.m., when the prize was shared. Steinitz introduced the game thus: The following remarkably interesting consultation game was played last Saturday, the 24th inst., between Messrs. Blackburne and Potter on the one side, and Messrs. Steinitz and Zukertort on the other, at a chess party given by Mr. Kunwald at the latter gentleman’s residence in New Burlington Street, and for a prize liberally offered by the host. The time for deliberation allowed to each party was ten moves per hour, and the limit was regulated by the means of sand glasses.24

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 Bb6 5. a4 a6 6. c3 Nf6 7. Qe2 d6 8. d3 Be6 9. Na3 Ne7 10. 0–0 c6 11. Kh1 h6 12. Ng1 g5 13. Be3 Bc7 14. f3 Ng6 15. g3 d5 16. Ba2 0–0 17. Rfd1 a5 18. b5 Qe7 19. Nc2 c5 20. Bc1 d4 21. B×e6 Q×e6 22. c4 b6 23. Rf1 Kg7 24. Qg2 Nh7 25. Bd2 f5 26. Rae1 Rae8 27. Nh3 f4 28. Ng1 Nf6 29. Re2 Rh8 30. Nh3 Kf7 31. Rg1 Reg8 32. Qf1 Ke8 33. g4 Nf8 34. Rgg2 h5 35. Nf2 Ng6 36. g×h5 Nh4 37. Ng4 N×g2 38. Q×g2 N×h5 39. Kg1 Bd8 40. Be1 Nf6 41. h3 Kf7 42. Qf1 Rh5 43. Rh2 Rgh8 44. Qg2 R8h7 45. Na1 Bc7 46. Nb3 Qc8 47. Nc1 Qh8 48. Nf2 Rh4 49. Ne2 Ke7 50. Kh1 Rg7 51. Ng1 ½–½. In the first week of August, the amateurs-only Counties Chess Association, which normally met annually in English provincial towns, held its annual meeting in Scotland instead. The venue was the Corporation Gallery of Fine Arts in Glasgow’s Sauchiehall Street. The local organizers invited most of the professional players to participate in some special exhibitions although they were ineligible for the association’s principal competitions which were held the same week. Some of them, but not Steinitz, entered the Handicap tour-

nament. Steinitz reported in The Field on both the 7th and 14th of August. On Tuesday the 3rd, Zukertort won five simultaneous blindfold games in about an an hour and a half. That evening Steinitz played simultaneously over the board against “about a dozen” opponents, winning every game. On the Wednesday an exhibition game (Game 471) was begun between Steinitz and Zukertort, both playing blindfold, the only occasion when they met in this mode of the game. It ended in a draw after five hours’ play, one source saying that this was divided between an evening session and the following morning. The Glasgow Weekly Herald boasted on 7 August that: “Six of the strongest chess-players in the world are in Glasgow this week.” Also there was Steinitz’s old friend George Fraser, who was paired with Blackburne on the Wednesday evening, 4 August, in a consultation game against Bird and MacDonnell. On the Thursday evening, Steinitz matched Zukertort’s earlier feat of winning five blindfold games in about 90 minutes while it was the latter’s turn to play simultaneously over the board. On the Friday all six masters were involved in a consultation game (Game 472).25

471. J. H. Zukertort–Steinitz Blindfold exhibition, Glasgow, 4 & 5 August 1875 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann (game 387); The Field, 21 August 1875. This game began on the evening of 4 August and finished next morning, both players being without sight of the board and men.26 When annotating it, Steinitz referred to himself and his playing style in the third person. Black had the better of the game from the 18th move onwards but, despite being the exchange up at the end, something close to a positional draw arose and in a blindfold game there would have been a risk of blundering if he tried to win.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. 0–0 Nh6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 0–0 9. d5 Ne7 10. Bg5 d6 11. Qc1 Ng4 12. h3 Nf6 13. B×f6 g×f6 14. Qh6 Ng6 15. Nbd2 Kh8 16.  Rad1 Rg8 17.  Bb3 Rg7 18.  Nd4 f5! 19.  e×f5 Qh4 20. Q×h4 N×h4 21. g4 B×f5 22. Nc4 Bb4 23. N×f5 N×f5 24. Kh2 Ne7 25. Rd3 f5 26. f3 Rf8 27. Ne3 f4 28. Nc2 Bc5 29.  Nd4 B×d4 30.  R×d4 Ng6 31.  Re4 Ne5 32.  Kg2 h5 33. Rd1 h4 34. Rdd4 Rgf7 35. Ra4 a6 36. Bc2 Kg7 37. Kf2 Kh6 38. Rab4 b6 39. Ra4 a5 40. Rad4 Kg5 41. Ba4 Re7 42. Bd1 Rff7 43. Ba4 Rg7 44. R×f4 Nd3† 45. R×d3 K×f4 46. Rd4† Ke5 47. Ke3 Kf6† 48. Kf2 Ke5 ½–½ On the afternoon of Friday, 6 August, the Association held a celebratory lunch in the Waverley Hotel, Sauchiehall Street. The speeches were reported at considerable length by John Jenkin in the chess column of the Glasgow Weekly Herald on 14 August. His report ended: “After some capital singing from Herr Steinitz and Mr. Marshall, the company broke up for play.” So the following game then begun.

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876

472. Steinitz, Zukertort and Burn– Blackburne, Bird and MacDonnell Consultation game, Glasgow, Friday, 6 August 1875 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 386); C.O.L.C.M., II (September 1875), pages 244–245 (which had notes by Potter).27 According to C.P.C. 1875 (page 312), the prize for this consultation game was eight guineas “liberally offered by the Glasgow Club” which Steinitz and co. won “after several hours work.” For an amusing description of this game, published in the Chronicle for January 1876, see Blackburne (game 220).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. Nc3 Bg4 10. Bb5 Kf8 11. Be3 Nge7 12. Kh1 d5 13. e5 Qd7 14. a4 a5 15. Ne2 Ng6 16. Nfg1 h5 17. Rc1 Nge7 18. f3 Bf5 19. Qd2 Qc8 20. Nf4 Nd8 21. Ngh3 Ne6 22. N×e6† B×e6 23. Ng5 h4 24. Bf2 c6 25. Bd3 Nf5 26. Qf4 Bd8 27. Rfe1 Rh5 28. N×e6† Q×e6 29. Rb1 b6 30. Qd2 Rb8 31. Rec1 Kg8 32. Qc2 Ne7 33. f4 g6 34. h3 Kg7 35. Be2 Rh8 36. Bg4 f5 37. Be2 Kf7 38. Qc3 Rh7 39. Rc2 Qd7 40. Rbc1 Rc8 41. Qe1 Ng8 42. Bb5 Ne7 43. Ba6 Rc7 44. B×h4 Ke6 45. Qg3 Kf7 46. B×e7 B×e7 47. Bb5 Bc5 48. d×c5 c×b5 49. c6 Qe7 50. a×b5 Qb4 51. Qg5 C.O.L.C.M. ends here, saying “and wins,” but W.P., VIII (page 87) has these further moves (and notes by Zukertort which can be seen in Forster’s book on Burn): 51. … Qe7 52. Q×e7† K×e7 53. Rd2 Ke6 54. Rcd1 g5 55. f×g5 K×e5 56. R×d5† Kf4 57. g6 Rhe7 58. Rd7 Kg3 59. R×e7 1–0 After this consultation game, there are no more game scores extant for Steinitz in 1875, perhaps because chess politics occupied much of his energies. He did, however, pay several visits to chess clubs. He was at Littlehampton in Sussex on the 8th and 9th of November, where he won every game, including six played blindfold.28 On 15 November (three days after resigning from the City of London Club) Steinitz won all 20 games in a simul at the Old Change Club in London.29 Following this he paid a three-day visit to Birmingham, reported in the Field on 27 November. On Thursday, the 18th he played a small simul at the club-rooms, winning all 14 games. Next day the Birmingham Chess Club hired the banquet room of the Great Western Hotel for a larger simul where Steinitz won 26 games but lost to the Rev. T. C. Yarranton, vicar of Wythall. On the Saturday he played six games blindfold but with less success than usual, winning two, losing two (to Messrs. Halford and Syndercombe), and drawing one while his game with the club president, Mr. Avery, was left unfinished at 1 p.m. after seven and a half hours’ play, with Steinitz the exchange and a pawn ahead. During his stay in England’s second city, Steinitz was a guest of the club’s Hon. Sec, the well-known amateur S. G. Kempson, who acted as teller for the blindfold performance. While

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conducting the blindfold games, Steinitz also played a lady amateur over the board. The local newspaper reported: Although Mr. Steinitz conducted his games with great skill, and with a perfect mastery of the difficulties the task presented, he seemed inferior to Morphy and Blackburne in the power of maintaining his hold on the adversary as the play advanced to its later stages…. As the games proceeded, the opponents who had better held their ground, not only liberated themselves form his assault, but were able to assume the offensive themselves….30

Time of Crisis Several issues of the second volume of the City of London Chess Club Magazine chronicle the steps by which the attempt to set up a branch of that club in the West End of London led to crisis. The idea probably arose from the failure of the Westminster Club, where daytime play and other facilities of a gentleman’s club had been available, which suited men of leisure and the professional players. The City of London Chess Club catered to people who worked for a living. It was strictly for playing chess and only on three evenings per week: Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Furthermore, as the City became increasingly depopulated outside office hours, some members may have welcomed the idea of a playing venue nearer to home. The February 1875 issue of the Club Magazine (the first of the volume) reports that on 18 January a committee meeting was held, at which a sub-committee of 21 members (including also Hoffer and Zukertort) was formed “to consider the feasibility of establishing a West End branch of the City of London Chess Club.”31 This was the fatal opening move in a series of maneuvers that still remain somewhat unclear, but which resulted in a split within the City club.32 The March number, on page 35, included a paragraph about a meeting of the subcommittee that had been held on 2 February, at the house of inventor Carl [Charles] Godfrey Gümpel (1833?–1921),33 with J. E. Rabbeth (a former president of the City club) in the chair. There was an attendance of 17, not including Steinitz. Of the professionals, Löwenthal and Wisker were there; perhaps Gümpel himself and the artist Anthony Rosenbaum (1831– 1888) should be included in their number, since their interest in chess activities was later shown to be largely commercial. An animated discussion took place, in which the financial and social aspects of the question were fully gone into, and in which many of those present expressed themselves in favour of forming a distinct Club, but ultimately the original proposition that a West End branch of the City Club, to meet on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, should be formed, was carried by a majority of votes.

The annual City Club dinner was held a few days later, on 10 February, and apparently all was still sweetness and light.34 During the proceedings Duffy toasted “The Honorary Members” and Steinitz replied; within 18 months there would be open hostility between these two.

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Steinitz in London

The matter started to come to a head at a special general meeting held on 5 March to debate the issue, and the report in the Club Magazine for April shows that Steinitz was one of those who spoke in favor of the branch scheme, following Potter, Rosenbaum, and Zukertort. Speakers against it were W. G. Howard (the Hon. Treasurer), Murton, Wisker, Humphreys, Chappell, Sutton, and Watts. Potter wrote that the meeting was “very largely attended” but some members did not vote at all, perhaps because they could not make up their minds. Stormy winds prevailed and a rather alarming gale seemed coming from the East, but ultimately the motion for the establishment of the proposed branch was carried by 31 votes to 12, a previous amendment in the negative having been lost by 26 to 17, which latter figures, therefore, represent the real strength of the opposing forces.

The meeting was adjourned for a week, and on the 12th six extra members were elected to the sub-committee: Blackburne, Eccles, Gumpel, Humphreys, Vyse, and also Walrond (who died on 15 April). Also Vyse (who had taken over from Potter the previous year) resigned as honorary secretary of the City Club, but remained the secretary of the magazine.35 It is not clear from this whether the “opposing forces” were all in favor of a separate club, or whether some of them wanted no change at all. Summer being a quiet season for chess in Victorian London, nothing was said in the news pages of the magazine for several issues but there must have been discussions in private. Steinitz’s not being invited to Gastineau’s July party is a symptom of something going on behind the scenes. Hidden away on the last page of the July magazine, among Potter’s answers to correspondents, the following clue is also suggestive: A. ROSENBAUM.—Your allegations against the Committee of the City of London Club, in respect of the proposed West End Branch, we consider to be well-founded, but we have had enough of controversies, and propose bathing for a time in the river of peace. At the same time, it is clear that the said Committee ought to announce whether or not they are able to carry out the wishes of the general meeting.

The next report about the matter may be found on the final page of the August number of the City magazine. It is too long to quote in full but the salient points were as follows. The committee of the City of London Chess Club, perhaps prompted by Rosenbaum’s inquiry and Potter’s response, announced in early July that they had come to the conclusion that the scheme to establish the proposed branch club was “impracticable.” Why they came to that decision was left unexplained. According to Sergeant, plausibly, “the older members had power on the main committee” whereas it was the professional masters and junior members who were in favor of the new project. Steinitz, who had previously argued for the branch plan, joined the group who resolved to establish a separate body under the name of The West-End Chess Club to be based near Charing Cross. Potter, the spokesman for the new club, commented:

It is but fair to assume that they [the City Club committee] have endeavoured to carry out the wishes of the General Meeting. Those who supported the resolution carried at that meeting looked wistfully to the unemployed resources of the West End Chess-players, and desired that they might be utilised under the auspices of the City Club. They had in mind the interests of that association, and desired an increase of its prestige and usefulness.

His article went on to say that it had been decided to form an independent club for West End players, and the promoters of this scheme met at Gümpel’s house on 14 July, just four days after Gastineau’s party, to decide some details. This breakaway group elected a provisional committee of 15 members, including Duffy, Gastineau, Hoffer, Potter, Rabbeth, in addition to Gümpel, Rosenbaum, Steinitz, and Zukertort. Potter did not explicitly state whether all those named were at the 14 July meeting. Gastineau and Rabbeth were possibly named as provisional officers (chairman and treasurer, respectively) in the hope of avoiding an open rift with the City club and to reassure prospective recruits that the new club was in safe hands. Potter announced the arrangements for the new club in the September issue. It had taken “spacious and commodious rooms” at 8, New Coventry Street, close to Leicester Square, where meetings would commence on 1 October. The club would be open every day (though presumably not Sundays) from 1 p.m. to midnight, and the provisional committee would run it until the first general meeting of members during October. The annual subscription was £1 1s. (one guinea) for members living within 12 miles of Charing Cross; this was more than four times the annual subscription to the City of London Chess Club. (Country members were half price.) To encourage rapid membership growth, an entrance fee of 10s. 6d. would only apply to those joining from January 1876. “Altogether the new Club starts under the auspices of the highest possible character and there can be no doubt whatever that besides filling a manifest void in the Chess world it will occupy therein a most important position,” concluded its chief cheer-leader.36 Then in the next issue, out at the start of October, Potter said that the number of the club’s members had increased daily and boasted: “The West-End Club has become powerful even before it has started.”37 One of the club’s first activities was to arrange a match between Potter and Zukertort and in 1876 they also hosted Steinitz’s match with Blackburne which is discussed further on. In Land and Water, Wisker welcomed the new club, writing on 18 September that: “A new club in the West end is very much needed, and it is to be hoped that the one about to be started will answer the purpose. It will—as any club to be successful must—be open all day.” On the other hand, in his column in The Sportsman a few days previously, he revealed his true opinion: “The leading English players” (by which he apparently meant Bird and himself) “hold aloof for some reason, but this drawback may not prove serious, for it is

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876 just as well that the foreign players, who are an important body, should have a club of their own.” In the same column, Wisker expressed concern about the management of the parent club: THE CITY OF LONDON CHESS CLUB.—The last meeting of the committee of the City of London Club was an exceedingly stormy one, the subject of contention being the advisability of excluding the honorary members from the committee of management. No proposition could be more reasonable; indeed, several of the honorary members are themselves strongly in its favour. The club has latterly fallen under the control of this class, who are the strong players; and it is implying no disrespect to any of them when we say that to take part in the voting of money by which they chiefly profit is contrary to all constitutional rules, ancient and modern. It is to be hoped that the club will adopt the new rule. It has not latterly maintained its high prestige, and we believe the falling off is due only to the cause we have mentioned.38

A major problem arose with the West-End Club almost as soon as it opened, for which Potter later confessed himself responsible. So in the rupture that occurred between him and Steinitz, neither party was entirely innocent. The first annual general meeting of the club, when the provisional officers and committee were replaced by a board elected by the members, was held on Thursday, 7 October. Rosenbaum was confirmed as secretary but Steinitz was elected to the committee only after somebody withdrew in his favor.39 Crucially, Gastineau and Rabbeth were not elected. Potter later admitted that not only had he voted against them, he had not given them notice “of his intention to vote, and likewise to use his influence, against them, whereby they remained in ignorance thereof until two days before the election.” These two men who had done much to found the club were not only discontinued in office (which they might not have minded) but excluded from the committee altogether. Sergeant put it this way: “As they had incurred reproach at their old club by taking a leading part in forming the new, this was an unlookedfor slight to them, and they did not attend the West-End Chess Club’s inaugural dinner on October 21st.”40 Soon, as Potter was to put it in his November issue, “two hostile camps were formed, and bitter counsels became the order of the day.” On 30 October, before the next issue of the City of London Chess Magazine was in print, the Illustrated London News published a long letter from Bird about the affair. It can be noted, by comparing Bird’s first paragraph with the course of events detailed above, that his characteristic carelessness over details manifested himself, since he speaks of a meeting being held in July which actually took place in March: THE NEW WEST-END CHESS CLUB. (To the Editor.) Sir,—When the idea of a new chess club at the West-End was first mooted, it was stated to be intended as a branch of the City of London Chess Club; and a committee, of which I was a member, was appointed to determine the best means of carrying the proposition then under consideration into effect. This committee held a meeting in July last, and a

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resolution was passed that a club should be formed as a branch of the City of London Chess Club; an alternate resolution, supported by Mr. Wisker and others, to the effect that an independent chess club would be more desirable, having been rejected. Like other members of the committee, I assumed that the resolution passed would be acted upon, and that a new club would be formed under the auspices or as a branch of the City of London Chess Club, with a committee representing amateur as well as professional interests. I expected also, or at least hoped, that it would be constituted so as to command the confidence of the chess-playing public not only in London but also in the provinces. Happy he who expects nothing, for he will not disappointed. The proposed branch Chess Club has come to nothing, and we have in its place a club originated by Messrs. Potter, Zukertort, and Steinitz, with a committee conspicuous by the absence of every well-known English chessplayer, and formed utterly regardless of the interests of the City of London Chess Club and its members. It was not until Sept. 21, a few days before the opening, that the outside world received any official intimation of the club being an accomplished fact. The secretary on that day wrote me a very courteous letter, with an invitation to become a member of the club, and of a council for managing its technical Business. I have reason to believe that this time it was well understood that none of the leading professional players were to be nominated for election on any managing-committee, and no one appeared more earnest in this view than Mr. Potter; yet we find him, at the last moment, proposing Mr. Steinitz as a member of the managing committee of the new club, and his election was secured, although with difficulty, and at the bottom of the list; this result only being attained through the resignation of a member in Mr. Steinitz’s favour. Amongst the names put forward for nomination were those of the two past presidents of the City of London Chess Club. These gentlemen had acted respectively as chairman and treasurer throughout the earlier stages of the proceedings, and their election, like that of the gentleman who has accepted the office of president, would have been hailed with intense satisfaction by all classes of the chess community; and the fact of their non-election has been, and will continue to be, the subject of universal amazement. That it should be in the power of any section of players, whether professional or nonprofessional, to bring about such a result, is lamentable enough under any circumstances; but if, as I believe, it has been accomplished through unauthenticated proxies and other irregular means, the matter becomes still more serious, and an election conducted upon fair and open principles appears to the only proper remedy. At all events, sufficient must be already known to the committee to convince the gentlemen composing it that close investigation is necessary, not only in their own interests, but in those of the entire chess community.— I am, Sir, your obedient servant, H. E. BIRD. October 1875.41

It is perhaps because of Bird’s letter that Potter published his semi-apology, or perhaps he had decided to do it anyway, but the damage was done. The motives of several of the people involved may be a little hard to understand from a modern perspective. Potter had written that Gastineau and Rabbeth knew “he was strongly opposed to the course they were taking in another place, for the theatre of hostile operations was not the West-End Chess Club itself.” Sergeant professed ignorance of what this meant, saying “he does not explain what they had done elsewhere,” but “elsewhere” must mean the City of London Club. Potter was reacting to the move

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Steinitz in London

Wisker already wrote about in mid–September, namely a move there to exclude honorary members from the committee, in which Rabbeth and Gastineau presumably must have been involved. This move perhaps had been plotted at the garden party from which the foreign professionals were excluded. Wormald heard about the proposal. In the Illustrated London News on 28 August he wrote that a club subcommittee had passed a resolution to the effect that in future “no professional player shall be eligible to act on the committee of management.” When the new club secretary F. W. Lord objected that a private matter had been leaked and that the club only recognized two classes of members—honorary and active—Wormald refused to publish his letter and the correspondence appeared instead in the club magazine.42 The upshot was that there was a large attendance of members when the City of London Club held a special meeting on 12 November to discuss its proposed rules revisions.43 The black-ball rule (in relation to excluding candidate members) was slightly relaxed, for a reason that was not explained in print but probably had to do with such rules being less usual now in chess clubs than when the City had started as a small body in the 1850s. Next, Piercy and MacDonnell supported the old rule whereby members could vote in absentia by letter to the honorary secretary. One argument (wrote Steinitz) was that the room would hold only about 70 so they claimed “practically four fifths of the members would be disqualified from voting by the measure proposed,” but other speakers mentioned abuses of the old rule and the committee’s motion was accepted, so in future members had to be present to exercise their vote. This change, of which Potter approved, was perhaps partly recommended because of Bird’s allegations about proxy voting influencing March results. The crucial vote came on the issue of whether honorary members should still be allowed to play a role in the club’s management. Steinitz claimed in The Field that this debate came late in the evening when nearly half of those who had been present had left. He listed the honorary members as Bird, Blackburne, Boden, (Frank) Healey, Hoffer, Horwitz, Kling, Löwenthal, MacDonnell, Steinitz, Wisker, and Zukertort. At the last committee meeting, by a majority of just one, the previous state of affairs had been confirmed, but nine committee men (named by Potter) had signed a protest: Chapple, Gastineau, Gümpel, Howard, Löwenthal, Manning, Rabbeth, Watts, and Wisker. Two of these were themselves honorary members. It was known in advance that an attempt would be made at the general meeting to reverse the decision now that it was open to the whole membership. The brief account given by Cunningham in his 1893 article on the history of the club is definite on what happened, but omits one step. He wrote: Mr. Howard moved and Mr. Löwenthal seconded an amendment to rule 11, which would exclude honorary members from the committee, and after a heated and stormy discussion, this amendment was car-

ried. In consequence of this, Messrs. Blackburne, Hoffer, Steinitz and others immediately retired, and these were ultimately followed by the resignation of other strong players.44

The step that Cunningham omits is that Piercy, supported by Steinitz and a few others, proposed a counter-amendment that “honorary members should be permitted to exchange into the class of ordinary members without it being necessary for them to undergo re-election.”45 Clearly Steinitz was willing to remain at the club without privileges. This, though, would have meant that he could remain on the committee; the majority were clearly determined to be rid of him. Potter regretted that the meeting would not listen to Piercy and Steinitz’s arguments; they were shouted down and the amendment carried 30–9. So Rule 11 was changed. This led, in Steinitz’s words, to the “secession of a considerable number of influential members, amongst whom we notice Major Martin, Messrs. Blackburne, Hirschfeld, Hoffer, Piercey [sic], Steinitz and Zukertort.” Steinitz recalled this affair in his article published on 26 October 1883 for Turf, Field and Farm (quoted in full in Appendix VI) where he wrote that “I could easily have transformed myself into a paying member, but preferred to fight against the shabby motion with Blackburne, Zukertort and others on my side.” It was probably the case that, at an earlier stage before the argument became so bitter, Steinitz would have been able to renounce honorary membership, pay his subscription and remain in the club but the mood of the 12 November meeting made this impossible. Piercy’s amendment was intended to confirm his right to do this; that it was shouted down was a clear indication that Steinitz would have had to submit himself to election, and risk the humiliation of rejection. Hence the resignations. Potter wrote that he abstained in all this through having had his fingers burned in the West-End Club matter.46 He remained in the club but soon abandoned the magazine. Steinitz never rejoined; he would have been blackballed had he tried. Zukertort was re-elected an honorary member on 18 September 1882.47 Hoffer also was welcomed back late that year after his appointment to the editorial chair at The Field. Blackburne, although direct evidence is lacking, was almost certainly encouraged to rejoin as an ordinary member and his honorary membership soon restored. He competed in the 1877/8 club Handicap tournament, for example.48 Certainly the City of London Club lost many members and it was a few years before it regained its former size and influence, but this damage has been exaggerated.49

Two Bad Mistakes November 1875 went from bad to worse for Steinitz. The meeting just described should have been unpleasant enough for him, showing that he was persona non grata so far as a

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876 section of the City membership was concerned. Yet he had made matters far worse for himself in two ways. One was his reaction to these events in The Field; the other was a review article by him published in the November issue of the City magazine. Steinitz was bitter after his rejection by the City club, but the article he published on 20 November, just eight days later, was badly misjudged. He defended the rôle of the honorary members, saying they provided various services gratuitously, and then wrote that the club held “a considerable surplus, derived solely from the match between London and Vienna, which was got up by private subscriptions amongst the wealthier members, without the slightest risk to the funds of the club.”50 This was shown to be factually inaccurate. The following Saturday, Wisker went on the attack in the Sportsman. After giving the background to the correspondence match, where Steinitz and Potter had “performed their duty most admirably,” Wisker said categorically that: “At the conclusion of the match, after expenses had been paid, the whole surplus was justly divided between these two gentlemen.” He denied that the club held any “considerable surplus.” He added: There are one or two remarks in the article to which exception might justly be taken, but, in the interests of a great club, the above is the principal. The writer says that the “matches and simultaneous performances were offered gratuitously by the first-class players.” The distinction between the matches and simultaneous performances is not clear; but it is the fact that the first rates were often paid for their work. And quite right too.51

The December issue of the Westminster Papers included a short letter from MacDonnell who denied rumors that he had been in favor of honorary members being eligible for committee membership, but on the contrary had spoken against it. This was followed by an unsigned article (probably by Duffy) complaining that after the City of London Club had “made a stand against the overbearing conduct of a professional player,” The Field had permitted that player to vent his spleen in their columns in language intentionally offensive, if not libelous.52 Was Steinitz implying that the committee had misapplied or misappropriated funds? Also if the surplus had been divided between Steinitz and Potter, “what means all this bombast about the professionals doing so much work gratuitously?” In a letter dated 8 December, Lord wrote to The Field to clarify the situation and requested publication of the club’s denial of what Steinitz had written: After paying all expenses in connection with the match between Vienna and London, there remained a surplus in hand of £30, and at a meeting of the committee a resolution was passed that the said £30 be divided between the two principal players who had conducted the London games, and in accordance therewith, Messrs. Potter and Steinitz each received £15. The committee have not thought it necessary to notice at length the other statements contained in the same article; but, in their opinion, these statements are dictated in a very hostile spirit, and evince an amount of personal feeling which they did not expect to find in the columns of your paper.53

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Writing in 1888, Steinitz claimed that his one mistake in the offending article was to use the word “surplus” when “profits” would have been correct.54 On behalf of The Field, the editor Walsh apologized to the club, administering (in Duffy’s words) “a snub to his subordinate of the chess column.”55 The following appeared in parentheses immediately after Lord’s letter: In reference to the above, we have received the following explanation from the writer of the report. We regret exceedingly that Mr. Steinitz should have imported into it any statement at all depending on his own information alone, and altogether foreign to the report; but still more do we regret that such a statement should not be in itself strictly accurate, for it is clear to us that no such surplus exists. We therefore not only print Mr. Steinitz’s letter, but we tender our own apology in addition, and that to the fullest extent.—EDITOR FIELD.

This was followed by a typically convoluted retraction in which Steinitz admitted that he had received the money. He now said that the £15 apiece came from a portion of the backers’ winnings which had been paid to club funds. … I fully admit that the committee of the City Of London Chess Club have some good cause of complaint against the ambiguity of the expression contained in the passage quoted…. Since the terms I employed to comprise these circumstances were evidently misapplied, and convey an impression totally contrary to my intentions, I unhesitatingly beg to withdraw them, and apologise for having made use of them. In every other respect I must, however, uphold the strict accuracy of the report, and I may point out that it was confined to a bare statement of facts, which I thought it necessary to mention in order to give some explanation of the rupture that had taken place in the City Of London Chess Club, and which had caused the secession of several of its leading players….56

Steinitz’s other, and even more serious mistake, was to write, and persist in attempting to get published, a damning review of the new edition of Wormald’s The Chess Openings. Wisker had already received it favorably in the March issue of the C.O.L.C.M. Steinitz then reviewed, in The Field of 12 June 1875 (in “The Library” section, not in the chess column), some books on the chess openings (which he mostly found deficient both in principle and detail). In that review article, Steinitz wrote for example: The attainment of excellence in a game of pure mental skill like the one our column represents has always been, and ever will be, an object of legitimate ambition amongst men of mind, apart from its intrinsic merits as an intellectual recreation. Yet the prevalent opinion that, in order to acquire proficiency, it is absolutely necessary to charge the memory with a full knowledge of the multitude of “book openings” has often operated as an obstacle to the spread of popularity of the game. We believe, however, that the importance of book knowledge as a means of learning the art of playing chess has been much exaggerated. Chess is essentially a practical game…. The mind must be trained in actual combat … practice against first-class opponents on equal terms…. The system of writing chess books is capable of much improvement….

The small books by Dubliner Thomas Long were, he correctly said, suitable only for beginners. Since “we must like

248

Steinitz in London

what we have, if we cannot have what we like,” Steinitz recommended William Cook’s Synopsis of the Chess Openings (1874) “as best adapted to the requirements of students of all shades of strength,” especially because Cook adopted the tabular arrangement of the German Handbuch, making it convenient for reference.57 Some variations in Cook’s book were examined at length but nothng was said about Wormald’s book, because (according to MacDonnell) The Field had refused to print his views on it.58 Steinitz then prepared a much longer version which Potter unwisely agreed to publish, in two installments. Part One appeared in the November 1875 number of the magazine (pages 297–304) and caused outrage. Nevertheless, the second part followed in the December number, on pages 331–336. Steinitz started his review with an elaborate, but not unreasonable, preamble taking nearly a whole page in which he discussed what he considered should be the qualifications of anyone seeking to write a chess book. This was preparatory to questioning Wormald’s qualifications to write such a book. “We must confess our total ignorance of any achievement on the part of Mr. Wormald which would place him on a level even with second-rate players,” Steinitz wrote on the second page of his review; “nor have we ever heard of a single good game played by Mr. Wormald, against a strong opponent….” He said he found errors on every page except in the index and then proceeded to give many specific

examples where he considered that Wormald was in error when criticizing previous writers. More extracts from the preamble may be found in Appendix III. Bird certainly remembered this incident when he attacked Steinitz that year in Bird’s Chess Reviews. He undoubtedly considered that Steinitz’s treatment of Wormald was his license to deal with Steinitz’s own book in similar fashion. Steinitz’s scathing demolition job made him many new enemies. Wormald was popular in the chess world and in journalistic circles generally and he had achievements outside the chess world. Moreover, it was known that he was seriously ill, probably dying, which meant the attack was in bad taste, whatever the merits of Steinitz’s criticisms. His specific corrections to Wormald’s analyses were over the head of most readers too. John Charleton of Newcastle wrote in to the December Westminster Papers to regret that Steinitz stooped to write this and Potter to publish it. Charleton said: “Traducing a man’s career, under pretence of reviewing his book, is like inflicting a stab in the dark, or a blow under the belt.” An editorial comment agreed that it expressed “the general opinion of English chess players.”59 Undoubtedly Potter felt guilty about his part in Steinitz’s vicious review seeing the light of day. Steinitz had led him into temptation. He had enjoyed being editor of a successful magazine and Steinitz was indirectly the cause of its ending, or, strictly speaking, of Potter losing the editorial chair. (In 1876 Wisker tried to revive the magazine but failed after one issue.) Many years later, when reviewing Chess Life-Pictures for British Chess Magazine, Potter admitted: I have always regretted allowing Mr. Steinitz’s attack upon Mr. Wormald to appear in The City of London Chess Magazine. I had habitually accorded to my co-operators an independent expression of their views; but there is little doubt that in this particular instance I ought to have refused to insert the review in question.60

Robert Bownas Wormald: target of a vicious book review by Steinitz in 1875. (Sketch from The Westminster Papers, IX [October 1876] facing page 101.)

Steinitz and Potter, who had previously been close, now had a major falling-out, which became even more serious when, in late 1877, Potter became chess editor of the influential chess column in Land and Water. Landsberger appears not to have noticed the breach between them. On page 117 of his biography Landsberger wrote: “Potter was a close friend” implying they remained so. He appears to have missed the negative comments each made about the other subsequently. In the 1880s, Steinitz used the “Personal and General” section of his International Chess Magazine to snipe at his enemies and respond to criticisms. In the third issue he wrote as follows: “Some time back, a gentleman asked me what I thought of Potter’s analysis. Potterio is not a personage whom I greatly admire.”61 Nearly the whole page is an assault by Steinitz on him, although ostensibly it is only with respect to their differing views on the Ponziani opening. Potter replied to this a few weeks later: Steinitz alludes to his old friend Signor Potterio, who, we may observe, died some years ago. We remember Potterio very well, and look back

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876

249

upon him with feelings of kindliness, though something of scorn is mixed up with them. He was an amiably-disposed, but certainly weakminded man, and he loved peace not wisely but too well. He forgot that peace is to the strong, and also that war is sometimes better than peace. Steinitz and Potterio were at one time great friends, and continued so for years, to the surprise of many. The intimacy was disastrous to both, and ultimately they parted with but one regret, which was that they had ever met.62

Games, Early 1876 473. A. K. Murray–Steinitz Casual game, Simpson’s Divan, 1876? Ponziani Opening (C44) Bachmann (game 355) said the game was played in 1874 but it was probably later because the primary source is C.P.C., January 1877, pages 32–33. Archibald Keir Murray was a former honorary secretary of Glasgow Chess Club and much later a founder member of the British Correspondence Chess Association. Murray reached a favorable, if unbalanced rook endgame, but was outplayed in the instructive final phase which was far from perfectly conducted by either player.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. c3 d5 4. d3 d×e4 5. d×e4 Q×d1† 6. K×d1 Bg4 7. Be2 Nf6 8. Nbd2 0–0–0 9. Ke1 Bh5 10. Ng5 Bg6 11. f3 Bc5 12. Nc4 h6 13. Nh3 Nd7 14. b4 Be7 15. b5 Ncb8 16. Be3 b6 17. a4 f5 18. e×f5 B×f5 19. Nf2 Nc5 20. N×e5 Bf6 21. B×c5 B×e5 22. Bd4 B×d4 23. c×d4 R×d4 24. Nd1 Re8 25. Kf2 Rd2 26. Nc3 Nd7 27. Rhd1 Rc2 28. Rac1 Nc5 29. R×c2 B×c2 30. Rd4 Rd8 31. Rb4 Nd3† 32. B×d3 R×d3 33. Nb1 Kb7 34. Ke2 B×b1 35. R×b1 Rd4 36. Ra1 a6 37. Ke3 Rb4 38. b×a6† K×a6 39. Rd1 R×a4 40. Rd7 Ra2 41. R×g7 c5 42. f4 Kb5 43. f5 Kc4 44. f6 Ra8 (see diagram)

rDwDwDwD DwDwDw$w w0wDw)w0 Dw0wDwDw wDkDwDwD DwDwIwDw wDwDwDP) DwDwDwDw

After 44. … Ra8

45.  Kd2? If 45.  Rh7 (C.P.C.) then 45.  … b5=; instead Stockfish 10 proposes 45. g4! 45. … Kb3 46. Rg3† Better 46. Rb7. 46. … Kb2 47. Rf3 c4 48. g4? Better 48. f7 Rd8† (48. … Rf8!?) 49. Ke3 c3 50. f8Q R×f8 51. R×f8 c2 52. Rc8 c1Q† 53. R×c1 K×c1=. 48. … b5? 48. … Rd8†!. 49. Rf2? 49. f7=. 49. … b4? 49. … c3†!. 50. Kd1† Kb1 51. f7? Thanks to Black’s errors, he could have saved himself by 51. Rf4=. 51. … Rf8 51. … c3. 52. Rc2? Missing the final drawing chance, 52. h4. 52. … R×f7 53. R×c4 b3 54. Ke2 b2 55. Rb4 Ka2 56. Ke3 b1Q 57. R×b1 K×b1 0–1

Steinitz as he was portrayed on the cover of The Chess-Monthly, March 1891.

474. Steinitz–(Dr. H. J. K.) Vines Blindfold simul, Bristol, 1876? Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 361); C.P.C. (1877), pages 35–36: “one of several simultaneous blindfold games played some time ago by Herr Steinitz at Bristol.” Bachmann dates the game 1874, which is possible but we have not found any source to clarify the occasion or the opponent.63

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nc6 5. Bb5 Bd7 6. d3 Qe7 7. f5 Nd4 8. N×d4 e×d4 9. B×d7† N×d7 Better 9. … Q×d7. 10. Ne2 c5 Better 10. … d5. 11. 0–0 0–0–0 12. Bd2 f6 13. Nf4 Qf7 14. c3 d×c3 15. b×c3 g6 16. Ne6 Re8 17. Qa4 g×f5 18. e×f5 Kb8 19. Rab1 Nb6 20. Qb3 Qd7 21. Bf4 h5 22. N×c5 Qc6 23. Ne4 Nd5 24. Bd2 Rg8 25. a4 Be7 26. a5 Rg7 27. c4 Nc7 28. Bf4 Reg8 29. Rf2 d5 30. c×d5 Qa6 31. d6 Bd8 32. Nc5 Qc6 33. Q×b7† Q×b7 34. R×b7† Kc8 35. Rfb2 Na6 36. d7† R×d7 37. Rb8† N×b8 38. R×b8 mate (1–0).

475. Steinitz–H. C. Plunkett Casual game, London, February 1876 Four Knights Game (C48) Bachmann (game 388); I.L.N., 26 February 1876.

250

Steinitz in London

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. Nf3 Nf6 4. Bb5 Nd4 5. N×d4 e×d4 6. Ne2 N×e4 7. 0–0 Bc5 8. d3 Nf6 9. Ng3 0–0 10. f4 a5 11. a3 c6 12. Bc4 d5 13. Ba2 Bg4 14. Qd2 Re8 15. f5 Qe7 16. h3 Qc7 17. Qf2 Re3 18. Nh1 Bd6 19. g3 B×g3 20. Qg2 B×h3 21. Q×h3 Bf2† 22. Kg2 R×h3 23. K×h3 Be3 24. Ng3 Re8 25. c4 B×c1 26. Ra×c1 Re3 27. Rg1 Nh5 0–1

Second Blackburne Match The one competitive event played by Steinitz between the end of the Vienna 1873 tournament and the start of the next one in 1882 was his second match with Blackburne, played for a stake of £60 a side. The victor would be the first to win seven games, draws being disregarded as usual. Negotiations had been going on intermittently for some months but finally the contest began on 17 February 1876. It was expected to last much longer than it did, and interest quickly fell away when it became clear that the English master would be vanquished. Blackburne was badly out of form and despite obtaining winning chances in the first three games, managed to squander them and even lose. Although Blackburne was almost as successful as Steinitz in tournaments, he was never at his best in head-to-head matches, with the exception of his final match against Zukertort when the latter was past his best. The Field bought the rights of first publication with notes by the players, although the course of the match meant they were probably nearly all written by Steinitz. After the match was over, they were reproduced in a booklet published by that paper, in which Steinitz began by saying, “A chess analyst dedicates this small collection of games to the great analyst of human feeling and character, R. D. Blackmore, Esq.” Some other newspapers had permission to publish the first game. A much fuller account of the match, and contemporary comment about it, may be found in the present author’s biography of Blackburne; the games being so well known they are only lightly annotated here. Ahead of the match there was considerable excitement among British amateurs who naturally hoped for a “home” victory. But a shrewd observer, Fraser of Dundee, who knew both men well, predicted a Steinitz victory in a letter to J. G. White dated 12 February, when he told him that that the match had been arranged. Yet even Fraser surely did not expect anything as drastic as the eventual 7–0 result. The former [Steinitz] is I think pretty sure of the victory— for Blackburne is one of the Morphy school—dashing, risky & always looking out for “a bit of Morphy.” Steinitz, on the other hand, is one who won’t risk anything whatever, however tempting may be the opportunity for “a bit of Morphy.” He is

quite content to win in the dullest conceivable way. Yes, he is pretty often brilliant in his combinations. [As for] Blackburne, I don’t expect to see much of his brilliance manifested. He will be dreadfully nervous in this match for he is not quite sure of himself.64

The time limit was an average of four minutes per move: two hours each for the first 30 moves, and 15 moves per hour thereafter, with unused time (if any) carried forward. The Daily News reported on how this operated: It is customary in modern match playing to use sand glasses to keep score against the time occupied by each player; but Mr. Rosenbaum, the secretary of the West-end Chess Club, having found that the ordinary sand glasses procurable in London could not be relied upon, decided on employing alarum timepieces with a stop instead, an arrangement slightly demurred to at first, but which proved quite successful in working.65

Another good description of the start of this match was published in The Standard on 21 February, and we quote from this also. The journalist described the West-End Club in New Coventry-street, where the match was played, as follows: The rooms are tastefully and comfortably furnished, though with no pretence to absolute luxury. The solid tables, with the polished boards and glittering pieces, denote at once the character of the place; every appointment seems to impress upon you that here you shall play chess and nothing but chess. On a huge notice board are posted rules of the match, cautioning you against every possible set of indiscretion

Artist’s impression of Blackburne in 1876 during one of his blindfold exhibitions. (From the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News, V [15 July 1876] page 373.)

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876 detrimental to the comfort of the players and the members…. There also are posted the names of candidates for membership [who] must yet undergo the ordeal of election by ballot. In the centre of the large room stands the match table, inclosed square wise, not by a stout barrier, but by slack crimson cords, simply indicating that so far only you may approach without inconveniencing the players.

The Daily News said that Blackburne was the first to arrive, closely followed by his opponent, “the two chess masters looking very skilful and bright.” After drawing lots for first move, Steinitz asked the waiter for claret and a bottle of fresh water. The Standard said Blackburne requested cold brandy; the Daily News said they took nothing heavier than claret and water and later a cup of coffee. The opening moves were played quickly. Silence is well kept, the audible ticking of the stop clocks, the watchfulness of the two scorers, pencil in hand, ready to chronicle the move; the predominance among the spectators of snow-haired and nohaired veterans’ heads, give a solemn aspect to the scene.

When a move was made, spectators rushed to the rope to see what was played. Some went to an adjacent room to analyze. As usual, Steinitz used up all the thinking time that was available in the first game: The alarum of Steinitz’s clock rings, warning him that the time for completing his 30th move is near at hand. He is hard pushed for time, as is his foe. The position at this stage of the game was most intricate, and the chance of winning or losing was balancing on the point of a needle.

476. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Match, West-End Club (1), Thursday, 17 February 1876 Ruy Lopez (C77) Bachmann (game 389); The Field, XLVII (19 February 1876), page 203; T.C.M., XII, pages 206–207; Modern Chess Instructor, pages 36–37 and 39; Blackburne (game 223); Neishtadt, pages 99–102; Pritchett (game 12), page 93.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. d3 d6 6. c3 Be7 7. h3 0–0 8. Qe2 Ne8 9. g4 b5 10. Bc2 Bb7 11. Nbd2 Qd7 12. Nf1 Nd8 13. Ne3 Ne6 14. Nf5 g6 15. N×e7† Q×e7 16. Be3 N8g7 17. 0–0–0 c5 18. d4 e×d4 19. c×d4 (see diagram)

rDwDw4kD DbDw1php pDw0nDpD Dp0wDwDw wDw)PDPD DwDwGNDP P)BDQ)wD DwIRDwDR

Pritchett; now the critical line is 21. f3 d5 22. e5 where Pritchett stopped and this author gave 22. … Qc7. 20. d5 Nc7 21. Qd2 a5 22. Bd4 f6 23. Qh6 b4 24. g5 f5 25. Bf6 Qf7 26. e×f5 g×f5 27. g6 Q×g6 28. B×g7 Q×h6† 29. B×h6 Rf6 30. Rhg1† Rg6 31. B×f5 Kf7 32. B×g6† h×g6 33. Ng5† Kg8 34. Rge1 1–0 The Standard contradicted itself over the timing of the second game, saying it commenced at 3 p.m. but that the game was adjourned at 6 o’clock after four hours play, resuming at 7. Probably 2 p.m. was the real start time. Cochrane (“who admits that he is not far off a century”) was among the spectators, along with Löwenthal, Potter, Zukertort, Hoffer, Wisker and leading amateurs like Lord Walden, Plunkett, Major Martin, Dr. Ballard, and Gümpel. The Standard said: Though 15 moves an hour is by no means unusually quick play in a match game, it appears that the general opinion was that only 12 moves an hour ought to have been accepted as the time limits. Both were short of time before the completion of the second hour. It was quite clear that by this time Blackburne had the better position.

Blackburne missed his best chance at move 24, and then at move 30, when he had to move instantly, he missed another good chance. After the resumption, the position seemed equal. Steinitz began humming a few favourite bars of Lohengrin, and some one whispered rather audibly that singing over the game always indicated acknowledgment of difficulty. “No,” said Steinitz, “I sing because I am out of danger; he has let me slip.” On the 33d [sic] move he looked about ten minutes at the position and then quietly offered “to draw.” “Ah,” rejoined his opponent, “I dare say you would.” The inevitable result of a player attempting to force a drawn position into a winning one is almost certain loss between two first class players….

477. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Match, West-End Club (2), Saturday, 19 February 1876 Scotch Game (C45) Bachmann (game 390); The Field, XLVII (26 February 1876), page 233; Blackburne (game 224).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Qh4 5. Nb5 Bb4† 6.  Bd2 Q×e4† 7.  Be2 Kd8 8.  0–0 B×d2 9.  Q×d2 Nf6 10. N1c3 Qe5 11. Rfe1 a6 12. Na3 Qd4 13. Qg5 Rg8 14. Rad1 h6 15. Qg3 Qe5 16. Qh4 Qg5 17. Qc4 Ne5 18. Qb4 Nc6 19. Qb3 Rf8 20. Nc4 b5 21. Bf3 Bb7 22. Nd5 Rb8 23. Qa3 Rg8 (see diagram)

After 19. c×d4

19. … c4? 19. … c×d4 20. N×d4 Rac8 was the improvement pointed out both in Joseph Henry Blackburne and by

251

After 23. … Rg8

w4wiwDrD Db0pDp0w pDnDwhw0 DpDNDw1w wDNDwDwD !wDwDBDw P)PDw)P) DwDR$wIw

252

Steinitz in London

24. Ne5?! Blackburne had intended 24. Re5, and if 24. … N×e5 25. Qe7†, but did not trust himself to calculate it accurately in the available time. There were other ways to win also: 24. Nd6 (Gutman) or 24. N×f6 Q×f6 25. R×d7†. 24. … N×e5 25. Qe7† Kc8 26. R×e5 N×d5 27. Q×f7 Qd8 28. B×d5 B×d5 29. Re×d5 d6 30. R5d3? The right line was 30. Qe6† Kb7 31. R×d6 obtaining queen and pawns for two rooks with the Black king exposed. 30. … Qe8 31. Qd5 Rf8 32. Qd4 Rf6 33. Re3 Qc6 34. Rde1 Kb7 35. Rc3 Qd7 36. Rce3 Rbf8 37. f3 R8f7 38. Re8 Qc6 39. c3 Rf5 40. R8e7 Rd5 41. Qh4? Steinitz thought the ending still tenable after 41. Qf2. 41. … Qc5† 42. Kf1 g5 43. Qe4 R×e7 44. Q×e7 Rd2 45. Re2 Rd1† 46. Re1 Qc4† 47. Qe2 R×e1† 48. K×e1 Q×a2 49. Qe4† d5 50. Qc2 Qc4 51. Qd2 a5 52. g3 b4 53. f4 g×f4 54. g×f4 b×c3 55. b×c3 a4 56. Kd1? a3 57. Kc1 Kc6 58. Kb1 Qb3† 59. Ka1 Kd6 60.  Qc1 Ke7 61.  Qd2 Kf7 62.  Qc1 c5 63.  Qd2 Kf6 64. Qc1 Kf5 65. Qd2 Qb2† 66. Q×b2 a×b2† 67. K×b2 K×f4 0–1 The Standard, 28 February, said that Saturday is “field day” at the club and the rooms were uncomfortably crowded. The reporter spoke of the excitement when Steinitz opened Game 3 with the Kieseritzky Gambit: “great was the surprise of the most constant spectators at great matches at this daring venture….” After resumption and a few more moves “it became evident that the play was faulty on both sides.” Referring to the diagram position at the 34th move in the next game, the correspondent wrote: It may be that the ever hospitable feeling of Mr. Manning, the president of the City Club, who marshalled the deadly foes to a friendly dinner—had something to do with the undeniably careless move of Steinitz, and the still worse rejoinder of Blackburne. Those who had not the presumption to rely upon their own perception against the judgment of the great players, ran in a body to the great Prussian analyst, overwhelming him with questions why Steinitz had not captured the pawn, and why Blackburn [sic] had not played his King to King’s second. And Herr Riesenschnautze replied that it was “simply because they played like muffs.” After a most tenacious resistance Blackburne had to succumb….

This strange and humorous German name undoubtedly puzzled some people (including the present writer) and it did not help that when it was reprinted there was a spelling mistake. In the March number of Chess Player’s Chronicle, “A Looker-on” asked: “Who in all the world is the new Chess luminary, Herr Riesenschnantze?”66 To which the April Westminster Papers responded by saying that “the amateur philologists of the West-End club devised the soubriquet [sic] Riesenschnantze—which they declare means IronJaw—to express their secret opinions of a very eminent member of that association.” This was at first taken to be a reference to Steinitz but from the passage in the Standard it must instead be Zukertort to whom the spectators had appealed for enlightenment. The true meaning is not “IronJaw” but rather a large breed of dog.67

478. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Match, West-End Club (3), 22 February 1876 Kieseritzky Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 391); The Field, XLVII (26 February 1876), page 233; Blackburne (game 225). Blackburne collapsed in the second session.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bg7 8. d4 0–0 9. B×f4 N×d5 10. B×d5 Q×d5 11. 0–0 c5 12. Nc3 Attempting to improve upon Game 375 against Zukertort. 12. … Q×d4† 13. Q×d4 c×d4 14. Nd5 Nc6 15. N×c6 b×c6 16. Ne7† Kh8 17. N×c6? Now Black seizes the initiative. 17. … Bb7 18. Ne5 Rac8 19. Rf2 Be4 20. Rd1 f5 21. Nd3 Rfe8 22. Re2 Kg8 23. Ne1 Kf7 24. Bg3? This should make a bad position worse but Blackburne declined to capture the c-pawn, perhaps suspecting a trap. 24. … Re6?! 25. Bf2 B×c2 26. R×e6 B×d1 27. Rd6 Ke7?! Short of time, Blackburne failed to win the exchange by 27. … Be5. 28. Ra6 Rc7 29. Kf1 Rd7 30. Ra3 Ke6 31. Nd3 Bf8 32. Ra5 Bc2 33. Ke2 Kf6? (see diagram)

After 33. … Kf6

wDwDwgwD 0wDrDwDp wDwDwiwD $wDwDpDw wDw0wDp) DwDNDwDw P)bDKGPD DwDwDwDw

34. Ra6†!? Steinitz could have captured on a7 at once, but in that event Blackburne would probably not have blundered and the game would have ended in a draw. 34. … Kg7?? 35. R×a7 R×a7 36. B×d4† Kf7 37. B×a7 Bd6 38. Be3 Ke6 39. Kd2 B×d3 40. K×d3 Kd5 41. a4 f4 42. Bf2 g3 43. Bg1 Bb4 44. Ke2 Ba5 45. Kf3 Kc4 46. K×f4 Bc7† 47. Kg5 Bd8† 48. Kg4 Bc7 49. Be3 Be5 50. a5 Kb5 51. b4 Bd6 52. Bc5 Be5 53. Kf5 Bc3 54. h5 Ka6 55. Ke6 1–0

479. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Match, West-End Club (4), 24 February 1876 Scotch Game (C45) Bachmann (game 392); The Field, XLVII (26 February 1876), page 233; Blackburne (game 226).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Qh4 5. Nb5 Bb4† 6. Bd2 Q×e4† 7. Be2 Kd8 8. 0–0 B×d2 9. Q×d2 a6 10. N1c3 Qe5 11. Na3 b5 12. Bf3 Nge7 13. Rad1 Qf5 14. Rfe1 Rb8 15. Qe2 d6 16. Ne4 Bd7 17. Qe3 f6 (see diagram) 18. g4? This was based on a miscalculation, whereas 18. c4 would have given adequate compensation for the pawn and the immediate 18. N×d6 may even favor White. 18. … Qg6 19. N×d6 c×d6 20. R×d6 Kc7? This gives White some play;

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876

w4wiwDw4 Dw0bhw0p pDn0w0wD DpDwDqDw wDwDNDwD HwDw!BDw P)PDw)P) DwDR$wIw

After 17. … f6

better was 20. … Ne5. 21. B×c6 N×c6 22. Qg3 Kc8 23. Red1? Even the superior 23. Qg2 should fail against accurate defense. 23. … Rb7 24. Qg2 Nb8 25. R1d4 h5 26. Qd5 Qg5 27. Q×g5 f×g5 28. Rg6 B×g4 29. R×g5 Re8 30. Kg2 Rf7 31. h3 Bd7 32. Kg3 Re2 33. R×h5 Re×f2 34. Rc5† Nc6 35. Rd3 Kc7 36.  Nb1 Kb6 37.  Rcd5 Nb8 38.  Nd2 Bc6 39.  Ne4 Re2 40. Nc3 R×c2 41. Rd2 R×c3† 42. b×c3 B×d5 43. R×d5 Rc7 44. Rd3 Nc6 45. Kf4 Rf7† 46. Ke4 Rf2 47. a3 Ra2 48. c4 b×c4 49. Rg3 Rd2 50. R×g7 Rd4† 51. Kf5 c3 0–1

page 295; Blackburne (game 228). Blackburne disimproved on the fourth game and was lost, but Steinitz played inaccurately at the last move before the adjournment (move 31) and compounded the error after dinner. Blackburne, perhaps looking for a win instead of a draw because of the match situation, failed to take his chances.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Qh4 5. Nb5 Bb4† 6. Bd2 Q×e4† 7. Be2 Kd8 8. 0–0 B×d2 9. Q×d2 a6 10. N5a3 Qd4 11. Qg5†?! Qf6 12. Qd2? Q×b2 13. Nc4 Qd4 14. Qc1 Nge7 15. Nbd2 d6 16. Rd1 Be6 17. Qa3 Nd5 18. Nb3 Qc3 19. Bf1 Ndb4 20. Ne3 Re8 21. Rd2 B×b3 22. Rad1 R×e3 23. f×e3 N×c2 24. Qc1 Q×e3† 25. Kh1 Ba4 26. Bc4 N2d4 27. Re1 Qf4 28. Rf1 Qh6 29. Qb2 Qe3 30. B×f7 Bb5 31. Rfd1 Nf5?! 32. a4 Ne5? 33. a×b5 N×f7 34. Re2? 34. Qa2 would set Black a harder task. 34. … Qh6 35. Qb3 a×b5 36. g4 Nd4 37. R×d4 Ra1† 38. Kg2 Qf6 39. Rde4 Ne5 40. Rf2 Qg6? (see diagram)

480. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Match, West-End Club (5), 26 February 1876 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 393); The Field, XLVII (4 March 1876), page 263; T.C.M., XII, pages 207–209; Blackburne (game 227), page 118; Pritchett (game 13), page 100. This game was the first in the match where Steinitz obtained some opening advantage, but Blackburne could have drawn at one stage.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d5 4. d3 Bb4 5. f×e5 N×e4 6. d×e4 Qh4† 7. Ke2 B×c3 8. b×c3 Bg4† 9. Nf3 d×e4 10. Qd4 Bh5 11. Ke3 B×f3 12. Bb5† c6 13. g×f3 c×b5 14. Q×e4 Qh6† 15. Kf2 Qc6 16. Qd4 Na6 17. Ba3 b4 18. B×b4 N×b4 19. Q×b4 Rc8 20. Rab1 b6 21. Rb3 Rd8 22. Re1 Rd5 23. Re4 Qh6 Either 23. … Rc5 24. Qa4 b5 25. Q×a7 0–0 or 23. … Rd2† 24. Re2 Rd1 would have been better. 24. h4 g5? 24. … Rd2† 25. Re2 a5 should have been played. 25.  e6 f×e6 26.  Qa4† Ke7 27. Q×a7† Rd7 28. Q×b6 Rc8 29. Qe3 Kf7 30. Rb5 Rcd8 31. R×g5 Rd2† 32. Kg3 Now The Field had the ambiguous “R to Q3” (resolved in T.C.M. and Steinitz’s booklet of the match), while Pickard’s database (which our Blackburne book unfortunately followed) had an incorrect finish commencing 32. … Rd1. The correct finish is as follows: 32. … R2d6 33. Rf4† Ke7 34. Qe5 Rd5 35. Rg7† Ke8 36. Qf6 Q×f6 37. R×f6 R8d6 38. R×h7 Rc5 39. Rg6 Kf8 40. h5 Rdd5 41. R×e6 R×h5 42. R×h5 R×h5 43. a4 Rc5 44. Re3 Rc4 45. Kf2 Kf7 46. Ke2 Kf6 47. Kd3 R×a4 48. c4 Ra1 49. c5 Ra4 50. Re4 Ra1 51. Kc4 Ra4† 52. Kd5 Ra3 53. c6 1–0.

481. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Match, West-End Club (6), 29 February 1876 Scotch Game (C45) Bachmann (game 394); The Field, XLVII (11 March 1876),

253

After 40. … Qg6

wDwiwDwD Dp0wDw0p wDw0wDqD DpDwhwDw wDwDRDPD DQDwDwDw wDwDw$K) 4wDwDwDw

41. Ref4?? Both players (even in their notes) overlooked the drawing resource 41. Rf8†! Ke7 42. Rf5! 41. … c6 42. Qe3 Kc7 43. h3 h5 44. Rf5 h×g4 45. Rg5 g×h3† 46. Kh2 Ra3 47. Q×e5 d×e5 48. R×g6 b4 49. Rb2 c5 50. Rf2 Rd3 51. Rc2 b6 52. Re6 b3 53. Rb2 c4 54. R×e5 Kc6 55. Rg5 Rd5 56. R×g7 Kc5 57. K×h3 Kb4 58. Rb1 b5 59. Rg4 Rd2 60. Rg5 b2 61. Kg3 c3 62. Kf3 Kc4 63. Rgg1 Kb3 64. Ke3 Rd8 65. Rbf1 The Field has “KR to KB sq” which has sometimes been misinterpreted as Rgf1. 65. … c2 66. Ke2 Ka2 0–1

482. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Match, West-End Club (7), 2 March 1876 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Bachmann (game 395); The Field, XLVII (4 March 1876), page 263; Blackburne (game 229).

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nf6 5. Bc4 Nc6 6. d3 a6 7. f5 h6 8. h3 Qe7 9. a3 b5 10. Nd5 N×d5 11. B×d5 Bb7 12. b4 Bb6 13. a4 Rb8 14. c3 Nd8 15. Bb3 g6 16. g4 h5 17. Rf1 h×g4 18. h×g4 g×f5 19. g×f5 f6 20. Qe2?! 20. a5 or 20. a×b5 a×b5 21. Qe2 would rule out Black’s idea in the next note. 20. … Qg7? 20. … a5! would give counterplay. 21. Be3 B×e3 22. Q×e3 Qh6 23. Q×h6 R×h6 24. Rg1 d5 25. e×d5 Ke7 26. Kf2 Nf7 27. Rg7 Rf8 28. a×b5 Kd6 29. b×a6 Ba8 30. a7 Bb7 31. R×f7 R×f7 32. Ra6† Kd7 33. Ba4† Ke7 34. Re6† Kf8 35. Bc6 Ba8 36. Re8† Kg7 37. R×a8 1–0

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Steinitz in London

After this anticlimactic match, Steinitz effectively withdrew from public play for the remainder of 1876. When it was all over, Fraser (exaggerating somewhat) wrote again to White on 1 April 1876: “Blackburne’s ill luck with Steinitz was something extraordinary. In 5 of the games, he had almost dead won positions & he certainly up to dinner time played wonderfully well—after that, he seemed to do nothing but blunder. I think he outplayed his antagonist in these particular games & they show this clearly.”

Aftermath Steinitz’s ruthless dismissal of the English favorite was met with an equally gloves-off reaction in the March Westminster Papers, which went to press with the score at 6–0. Duffy commissioned a savage cartoon of Steinitz as a dwarf hunched over a chessboard which was followed by a sympathetic portrayal of Blackburne in the following number. The text accompanying the Steinitz cartoon said that his distinguishing characteristic was “a conscientious attachment to his own interest in every transaction of his public life.” The short article went on to say that “some important particulars” in the Standard’s account of the match were “entirely imaginary.” The reporter had, however, been correct to say that Steinitz had previously defeated Blackburne in a match; Duffy may have chosen to forget the 1862/3 duel which was before his time. The final paragraph read as follows: Chess has been, and is, the vocation of Herr Steinitz, and he has pursued it so ardently that he has rather neglected most of the branches of polite learning which are said to lend a charm to social intercourse. He is consequently ignored except when he is at the Chess board, and in a crowded Chess room he may often be seen, like Eugene Aram, standing apart, a “melancholy man.” His great talents, as a Chess player, are undeniable but he is too much given to self-assertion. Perched upon the pedestal his self-conceit has erected, he deems a solitary Pawn in his hand sufficient to sweep all before him. At the Chess board he sometimes contrives to do so with his sleeve.68

A few pages later in the same issue of the Papers was The Three Chessers, a poem in three stanzas, signed by “X.” It was critical, in a light-hearted way, of what some English amateurs saw as the mercenary nature of the West-End Club, contrasting it (in the third stanza) with the City of London. In the first stanza, headed “The money lost,” three defectors to the West-End Club who have paid to test their skill “against players of wide renown,” suffer grief and moaning: “For men must pay much money to play/Though it was not the case before today.” We may safely assume that the trio going to the Divan in the middle stanza (“The money spent”) are meant to be Steinitz, Zukertort and, probably, Hoffer: Three players went forth from a club to an Inn, From a club to an Inn in the busy Strand; Each called for a measure of sweetened gin, Which he sipped as he laughed over schemes well planned.

Steinitz cartoon from The Westminster Papers, VIII (March 1876) page 213. Many years later Steinitz described this as “a beastly caricature of myself, just after and as a reward for my victory over Blackburne.” For players grin, and think it no sin The coin of the foolish and vain to win, And care not for grief and moaning.69

In the third and final stanza, “The money saved,” there is a happy ending. The three chessers return to the “club in the East, near old St. Paul’s” where they are not fleeced nor “an unwilling victim in vulgar brawls,” and can return to playing the “gentle game” like gentlemen. So life had to go on. The reduced City of London Club moved to new rooms on Ludgate Hill which, being more expensive, obliged them to more than double their subscription to half a guinea. Blackburne bounced back from his crushing defeat to score a convincing win during April in the Divan tournament (a double roundrobin), defeating Potter and Zukertort in the process, while Steinitz watched from the sidelines, resting on his laurels. On Friday, the 5th of May 1876, Steinitz officiated once again as umpire at the fourth Oxford versus Cambridge University match, this time held at the Freemasons’ Tavern. Since he was persona non grata at the City of London Club, which had hosted the well-attended three previous meetings in the series, it now fell to the West-End Club to make all the arrangements, the only year they did so. Potter later wrote

9. Development and Crises, 1874–1876

255

against Eccles, Hirschfeld, and Zukertort; each team won a game. On 2 December a match was played between the St. George’s and West-End Clubs, reported in The Field the following Saturday; Steinitz was a spectator. He said it was “a really cheering sight to see” the oldest living chess author, Cochrane, going from board to board memorizing positions, and then discussing them “in a low voice, at a distance from the players, with such clearness of recollection and vivacity of intellect as almost to suggest a rejuvenescence of the neural faculties.”

A Second Chess Column

Patrick Thomas Duffy, Steinitz’s bitterest enemy among the London chess journalists of the 1870s. (Wallis Mackay’s sketch from MacDonnell’s first book Chess Life-Pictures.)

that the 1876 match was poorly attended and was the last time the match was played in public.70 After that, there is almost no record of what Steinitz did for the rest of the year apart from writing. There are no published games. He played no more in public and was probably unwell for much of the time.71 He recorded in The Field no club visits or other activities with the exception of some concerning the West-End Club. On 28 October, Steinitz reported on dinner, the previous Wednesday, to mark the start of its second year, and listed himself among those present, who also included J.I. Minchin and other members of the St. George’s Club. At some point in the evening: The health of the visitors was proposed by Mr. Kunwald, and connected with the name of Professor Wayte, who was warmly received, and in a complimentary speech proposed the chess masters and the chess press, coupled with the name of Mr. Steinitz, who returned thanks.

The Field of 2 December reported on an extraordinary general meeting of the club, with Eccles in the chair, to fill five vacancies on the committee, which was probably not a good sign. Wayte and J. I. Minchin were two of those elected. A “convivial supper followed,” after which two alternation games were played. Hoffer, Minchin, and Steinitz played

When Löwenthal died on 20 July 1876, Steinitz acquired a second chess column, in the London Figaro.72 This tabloid journal, which at that period appeared twice weekly, dealt chiefly with politics, society and cultural matters including the theater; its editor and proprietor, Mortimer, was both playwright and critic in his time. After service in the U.S. Navy he had been attached to the American embassy in St. Petersburg for a time, before returning to Paris to work as a journalist. There he had been one of the few witnesses to the match between Morphy and Anderssen at the end of 1858.73 Mortimer was an expert chess player, but certainly no master, and his appearance in the field of several important tournaments (notably London 1883) was probably because of personal popularity with the organizers, or, as Jeremy Spinrad has written, because he “had connections.” Articles that Mortimer wrote in support of Napoleon III led to the latter providing him with financial support to start the London Figaro, which first appeared on 17 May 1870. “Mortimer ran London Figaro largely as a one-man paper,” says one reference work on the British press.74 The May date shows that Sergeant was incorrect to describe him as a refugee from the Franco– Prussian War; he had already moved from Paris to London at least two months before that conflict began.75 After the fall of Napoleon (with whom he remained friendly in exile), Mortimer cut back publication to weekly in March 1871, until he hit upon the twice-weekly format which was successful for a decade. The chess column by Löwenthal began on Saturday, 17 February 1872. During his years in charge, it chiefly consisted of a chess problem, replies to correspondents, and sometimes news or items such as a discussion of points in the chess laws. Löwenthal was given a byline, which was unusual in those days. A miniature by Ernest Morphy was published in an early article but thereafter Mortimer appears to have laid down a policy that games would not be included, and this also applied after Steinitz took over. At the end of December 1872 Mortimer announced that the chess column would move to the Wednesday edition, as it had become popular with “a vast number of our readers” and he wanted to give it

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Steinitz in London

more space. So from 1 January 1873 the column restarted with Problem I and more “chess intelligence” items appeared. Publishing arrangements for the Figaro sometimes changed in later years but normally it appeared twice a week, with chess thereafter in the mid-week but not in the Saturday edition. While most of the content of the column under Löwenthal’s editorship was not of historical interest, some of his answers to correspondents are significant, in view of his great knowledge of chess and its players over several decades. For example, on 19 November 1873, he said the following which is relevant to why relatively few of Steinitz’s games from those days were preserved: It is unfortunately too true that few of the leading Chess-players care to record their games; and in almost every case of the preservation of those fine and brilliant specimens of play produced by first-rate masters in the art, we are indebted more to the zeal of the bystanders than the generosity of the author. Morphy was rarely, if ever, known to take down games played by himself, and the same carelessness has been remarked in La Bourdonnais, Philidor, and other distinguished players.

Löwenthal’s final article appeared in the Figaro on 26 July; he had been working up to the end. From 2 August readers were asked to address Steinitz at the Figaro office, which had only recently moved from Camden to 35 St. Bride Street in (or near) the City. Steinitz’s first article paid tribute to his old mentor, Hamppe, which (as usual) he spelled incorrectly as “Hampe.” The column in the Figaro probably did not pay as well as The Field, nor could it devote nearly as much space to chess, but nevertheless it must have provided Steinitz with some extra income and another outlet which sometimes proved useful in later years, as the next chapter will show. Steinitz generally avoided polemics in that column this year, but it may be noted that in the Figaro of 13 December Steinitz included an obituary of Wormald where he wrote: “Having never reached very high rank as a practical player, he necessarily lacked as a commentator that analytical capacity which can only be the special gift of first-rate practitioners.” He tempered this by adding his problems were praised for “originality of conception and fine concealment, which placed him amongst the first of English problem authors.” In the summer of 1876 there had been talk of an international tournament in the United States to celebrate the centenary of independence. Although what eventually transpired was a damp squib in which Europe was represented only by Bird (who was already on a long stay in America) it appears that Steinitz did consider going if the conditions were right. Wormald mentioned it in his column for the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News on 2 September. Quoting the Chess Record (the organ of the Philadelphia Chess Club), he said that Blackburne, Steinitz and Zukertort had written a letter to the Committee on Rules and Regulations

saying that if the tournament could be postponed to September or October, and a much larger sum of money could be raised than the American committee now have, “that they will then come over and enter, and the tourney will be a grand success.” The Record had said this was a step in right direction and called for English players and public to subscribe the 200 dollars apiece required for their expenses. Wormald commented: We scarcely know what to admire most in the above paragraph; the cool self-assertion of Messrs. Steinitz, Zukertort, and Blackburne, or the profound simplicity of the American commentator. The latter appears to be utterly in the dark as to the state of chess in England. Fifteen or twenty years ago the necessary funds might possibly have been forthcoming,—for “beastly enthusiasts” with long purses and open hearts were then plentiful in the land, but that good milch cow, the British public, has since been so persistently pulled at for our little clique of professional chess players, that the supply is at last exhausted.76

Wormald added, somewhat enigmatically, that “a wellknown chess amateur—whose generosity is always proverbial—told us the other day that he ‘really could not afford’ to attend certain chess-rooms on account of the excessive blackmail that was habitually levied upon him, and it is whispered that this is the cause of a certain club having come to grief.” He went on to point out that Mr. Blackburne “might, in a sense, represent England” but the other two “if they represented anything, would represent Prussia and Bohemia respectively.” Wormald’s attitude to Steinitz in these comments was no doubt in part a reaction to that hostile review of the previous year.With regard to the innuendo that English players had contributed nothing, he asked what had Americans subscribed to the tournaments held in England since 1851? Play in the Centennial tournament eventually commenced on the sixth of September with even several of the strongest American players absent. So 1876 was a year of mixed fortunes. Victory over Blackburne confirmed Steinitz’s position at the peak of the chess world but increased his unpopularity, already aggravated by the self-inflicted wounds of 1875. While he was not an innocent party by any means, Steinitz was confronted by the particular malice of certain individuals and the distaste for professionalism which had become an issue in Victorian sport in general. His relationships in London chess circles, especially with other chess writers, deteriorated significantly from August 1875 onwards. He became his own worst enemy by embroiling himself in three separate controversies simultaneously, from which he was hardly likely to emerge unscathed. His maneuvers had not only hurt the City of London Club, and indirectly brought to an end that club’s magazine, but damaged Steinitz’s standing also and ended his friendship with Potter—and for what? The West-End Club, after a promising start, failed within two years.

10. Absent from the Board, 1877–1881 Few Steinitz game scores survive from a period of more than six years subsequent to his 1876 victory against Blackburne. So far as serious competition is concerned, Steinitz appears to have been absent from the board until the 1882 Vienna tournament. There was brief discussion of a re-match in the summer of 1877 but it led nowhere. There are not even many surviving casual games or records of club visits for these years. From the summer of 1876 to 1881 the dominant players in Europe were Zukertort and Blackburne. After the disputes recounted in the last chapter, the divisions between Steinitz and a section of the London chess world had become deeper, although he retained some strong supporters. Long before the West-End Chess Club, which he had been instrumental in creating, shut down in the fall of 1878, his center of gravity had transferred to the St. George’s. No doubt Steinitz also patronized the public chess resorts, yet even the Divan was denied him for a period in 1877 when he faced a new personal challenge. After the stormy times of 1876 and 1877, the years 1878 to 1881 were a period of retrenchment during which Steinitz principally concentrated on his journalistic and analytical work. Then, late in 1881, a letter from Steinitz to The Chess-Monthly about the Zukertort–Blackburne match lit the fuse for what has become known as the “Ink War.” Since that was fought largely in 1882, it will be dealt with in the next chapter.

to be called a “nervous breakdown.” He was only now recovering, and moreover he said this was not the first time he had experienced this mental disorder. The context appears to be that Steinitz had recently received a letter from Fraser, reminding him of an earlier promise and requesting help in seeking copies of some old chess literature. Steinitz’s reply, written on the stationery of The Field, was as follows: My dear Sir. Having often felt very sadly that I had been guilty of great neglect towards you I was all the more delighted to hear from you again. Let me first of all give you the assurance that none of my friends can possibly suffer as much under my carelessness as I do myself. I have been for years the victim of a nervous affection [sic] which often entailed loss of memory and utterly incapacitated me for mental work. Though I feel myself now slowly recovering and gaining strength for my literary duties I do not think I shall ever be fit again for matches or tourneys. The enclosed photo of Dr. Meitner of Vienna may give you an instance of my forgetfulness and at the same time a proof that I have never so far forgotten myself as to forget you and your generous treatment while I was your guest in Scotland. You will remember that you wrote to me more than three years ago when I went to Vienna for some photos of the leading Viennese players. I at once obtained several promises most of which as usual were not kept but I got the likeness of Dr. Meitner which has been laying amongst my papers mostly forgotten until your letter assisted my general waking up to remind me of your request to look up the photo. I really could not find time to write to you during the tourney and since then I rarely thought of it and only on occasions when pressure of business prevented my attending to the matter. I shall hand over the list of the papers of want to the publishers but I am afraid some of the numbers are already out of print. Believe me my dear Sir, to remain with many compliments to Mrs. Fraser, Most sincerely yours, W. Steinitz.1

The Fraser Letter A famous letter written by Steinitz on 14 February 1877, revealing his mental state, can hardly be ignored here although it is well-known. As already mentioned in Chapter 6, Steinitz was friendly with Dundee businessman George Fraser, although how often they met after 1867 is unclear— perhaps only on Fraser’s occasional visits to London and at Glasgow in 1875. It appears from the letter, quoted below and first published in Chess Life, that Steinitz had experienced some kind of what used (in non-clinical language)

What conclusions may be drawn from this? Dr. Alfred Buschke, who once owned the Fraser scrapbook in which this letter was preserved, was quoted in Chess Life as saying that it was “of tremendous biographical importance. It shows that Steinitz at this early stage of his chess career was suffering from an ailment which probably led to his death, and that he was considering to resign from the chess world already then.” This is perhaps putting it too strongly. Steinitz would much later spend periods in mental hospitals in both

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Steinitz in London

Moscow (1897), after losing his second match to Lasker, and at the end of his life in New York, but those attacks were probably much more acute and of a psychotic nature, so rather different from the symptoms Steinitz describes in the letter, which undoubtedly were distressing but never prevented him writing two weekly chess columns.2 Steinitz must have been exaggerating somewhat. The letter does, though, help to explain why so little is heard of him between the Blackburne match and the spring of 1877. Moreover, that year can hardly be called “an early stage of his chess career”— it was about half way through it—but Buschke perhaps thought the letter also explained earlier periods of relative inactivity. It is also unclear from the letter whether Steinitz’s reference to being Fraser’s guest is to their matches early in 1867 or to a later visit to Scotland. He ends by sending “many compliments to Mrs. Fraser,” which implies he had met the woman. Fraser married Euphemia Eliza Gibb on 6 August 1872 so he had been a bachelor in 1867; she lived until 1915 so is definitely the woman to whom Steinitz refers. So probably he had met her during the Counties Chess Association meeting in Glasgow. It is less likely that he had paid a private visit to them in the 1870s, because he speaks of Fraser having made his request for the photographs in writing. Fraser had experienced severe financial difficulties between 1870 and 1873, even spending a few weeks in prison for debt, a fact not generally known in the chess world.3 At one hearing before his discharge at Dundee Bankruptcy Court, Fraser stated that his wife had expectations from her recently deceased mother; probably it was her money that paid off his debts and re-established him in business. It seems unlikely, therefore, that Steinitz had visited Fraser in the short period between his marriage and the Vienna 1873 tournament; if he had visited them afterwards he might have brought the Meitner photograph with him.

Back in Circulation Steinitz began to appear in public again in the spring of 1877. Although, by then, the West-End Chess Club was in decline, one could not tell this from his report about the club’s annual general meeting held on 27 February. Gümpel, hitherto the vice-president, chaired the meeting in the absence of Eccles. At the election of officers they exchanged positions, while Rosenbaum remained honorary secretary. The committee now included Plunkett and several prominent members of the St. George’s, among them Ballard, Minchin, Wayte, and Zukertort, but Steinitz was no longer on the committee although he must have remained a member because in 1879 he spoke at its winding-up meeting. From then on, he seems to have largely withdrawn from the West-End club and his columns rarely mention it.

Steinitz did include a short paragraph in the Figaro on 4 April: “This society has removed from its quarters … and has taken temporary apartments at the Hôtel de Paris et de l’Europe, Leicester place, until a more suitable place of meeting is found.” At the end of March 1877, according to Sergeant, “there was a sudden change in proprietorship of the premises in New Coventry Street which Gümpel gave up,” and they never found anywhere else as suitable. They had a “very brief sojourn” in Craven Street, off the Strand, but membership was falling off, partly because of a feeling that the West-End Club was being run too much for the benefit of the professionals.4 Meanwhile, there had been a reorganization of the St. George’s Chess Club in July 1875 after the death of its secretary and treasurer, T. I. Hampton. At first W. A. Lindsay took over those roles but in 1877 Wayte became treasurer and Lindsay was ultimately succeeded as secretary by J. I. Minchin, after a short period when Löwenthal held that position.5 Bird was later to complain that the death of Hampton and Minchin’s rise “caused quite a revolution in the interests of the game,” as the latter was an admirer of the foreign masters.6 Indeed it must have been with Minchin and Wayte’s support that Steinitz had been attracted into the orbit of the St. George’s. It may have been on their nomination that Steinitz was elected an honorary member of the St. George’s, although the date of his election is unknown. Minchin was probably Steinitz’s most important defender during his final years in London but influential men like Churchill and Plunkett, whom he had known since their student days, were also members of that club. On 22 March 1877 the St. George’s, for the first time, hosted the fifth Oxford versus Cambridge university match in its rooms at Palace Chambers, King Street.7 After the match the teams dined together at the Criterion. Once more Steinitz officiated as umpire. In his Figaro column on 21 March he described himself as “one of the original founders of the match.” At this time, Steinitz’s relations with Hoffer and Zukertort, also members of the St. George’s, appear to have remained cordial. By the summer of 1877 Steinitz appears to have been fully recovered and two visits to provincial clubs are on record in the spring. The fullest coverage of his visit to Burtonon-Trent in April is to be found in Fred Thompson’s column for the Derby and Derbyshire Gazette, a newspaper which in those days had two editions per week. It should be noted that Burton, a famous brewery town, is actually located mostly in Staffordshire but has strong connections with neighboring Derbyshire. The original announcement read: HERR STEINITZ. We are happy to inform our readers that the joint committees of Ind. Coope & Co. and Trinity Church Institute Chess Clubs have made arrangements for Herr Steinitz to visit Burton on Wednesday and Thursday, March 21 and 22. Further particulars in a later issue.8

10. Absent from the Board, 1877–1881 Thompson wrote on 9 March that Steinitz was to play four blindfold games simultaneously on Wednesday 21st and against all comers next evening. Play would start promptly 7 p.m. each day at the Hawkins Lane Schools. Admission for spectators was one shilling for one night or 1s. 6d. for both nights. Steinitz’s opponents were to pay a charge of six shillings for blindfold games or 2s. 6d. for a board at the ordinary simul (inclusive of admission charge). These arrangements presumably applied when the visit was rescheduled because of a clash with the university match. Maybe Steinitz had been originally mistaken about the date of that fixture, or it was rearranged. Although the Burton visit was postponed for three weeks, Steinitz did eventually play a small blindfold exhibition on Tuesday, 11 April and an all-comers simultaneous display next day. Three games are known from his visit; only one is in the usual collections following publication in The Field. The blindfold display was reported as follows in the Gazette of 13 April: HERR STEINITZ AT BURTON. As previously announced, Herr Steinitz gave a blindfold Chess séance at Burton on Tuesday last. We can only give the bare particulars. The first to succumb was T. F. Reeves Esq. (Q Kt’s Opening) who, upon trying a counter attack, resigned after an hour’s play. Mr. C. Hanson (French Opening), after two hours’ fight, had notice given to him of a mate in four moves. Ten minutes after Mr. G. M. Day (Sicilian) was fortunate in securing a draw. This was a very even game indeed. The game conducted by Mr. F. Gill (also Sicilian) was a very involved one, lasting over three hours; but, with a Knight and one or two Pawns to the bad, he accepted the inevitable. Herr Steinitz was the guest of the Rev. W. F. Drury, M.A., Vicar of Holy Trinity, to whose interest in the game Burton Chessplayers owe no small thanks.

483. Steinitz–G. M. Day

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We believe that we are right in saying that Herr Steinitz makes no pretensions to blindfold play. His forte lies in play over the board. Still he possesses with Messrs. Zukertort and Blackburne the power to see through the back of his head. The last dozen moves or so of the last blindfold game, played on Tuesday night, proved beyond question that Herr Steinitz is a master of this gift in a high degree. He left his pile of marmalade raw material and carried on with ourselves an animated conversation, during which he instantly replied to his opponent’s next move with “Rook takes Pawn,” and adding sotto voce, “I have his Rook in four moves.” What between the chat and the play the oranges got totally neglected, the Rook was captured, and the game finally won. On Tuesday evening Mr. A. E. Mayger was teller, and Mr. C. F. Pryce checker. On Wednesday evening play commenced at half-past seven, when Mr. Steinitz had thirty-two opponents…. Herr Steinitz’s moves at first were rapid, and from the strength of his attack it was soon evident that the local players would stand little chance against him. After about an hour’s play Mr. Balson, of Derby, succumbed, and the next four hours the number of players was gradually reduced, until, about half-past one on Thursday morning, when the last … resigned. Out of the thirty-two games, Herr Steinitz won thirty-one, and, with regard to the other game, it should really have been “drawn,” but it was unfinished in consequence of the player—Mr. F. E. Phillips of Derby—being compelled at midnight in order to catch the train. Many of the games were spun out to an unnecessary length. Even when the position of the players was altogether hopeless and the games irretrievably lost they continued to play on instead of resigning.

484. Steinitz–W. Chilton Burton-on-Trent simul, 11 April 1877 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann #396; from The Field, 14 April 1877.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. 0–0 Nf6 7. d4 0–0 8. N×e5 N×e4 9. N×f7 R×f7 10. B×f7† K×f7 11. d5 Nb8 12. d6 c6 13. Re1 B×c3 14. R×e4 B×a1 15. Qh5† Kf8 16. Bg5 Bf6 17. B×f6 g×f6 18. Qh6† Kf7 19. Q×h7† Kf8 20. Rg4 1–0

Burton-on-Trent blindfold simul, 10 April 1877 Sicilian Defense (B46) Derby and Derbyshire Gazette, 27 April 1877.

485. Steinitz–F. E. Phillips

1. e4 c5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. Nf3 a6 4. d4 c×d4 5. N×d4 e6 6. g3 Nf6 7. Bg2 Be7 8. 0–0 0–0 9. N×c6 d×c6 10. Qe2 e5 11. f4 Bg4 12. Qf2 Nd7 13. f5 Bc5 14. Be3 B×e3 15. Q×e3 f6 16. h4 Qb6 17. Q×b6 N×b6 18. Bf3 B×f3 19. R×f3 Rad8 20. Rd3 Nc4 21. Rad1 R×d3 22. c×d3 Ne3 23. Rd2 Rd8 24. Nb1 Ng4 25. Kg2 h5 26. Kf3 Kf7 ½–½

Burton-on-Trent simul, 11 April 1877 King’s Gambit (C39) Derby & Derbyshire Gazette, 4 May 1877: Steinitz, who said he had the better position, claimed he won the game, but Phillips said he stood at least equal, and that the game was unfinished not forfeited. The local paper published the game to let readers see what they thought.

There was a lengthier report the following week, which (in view of the comparative rarity of such accounts) is extensively quoted here. HERR STEINITZ AT BURTON … Beer and Chess are not often to be found in company. Coffee is the generally recognized beverage with Caissa’s devotees. Not so with Herr Steinitz. On the Tuesday, when engaged in blindfold play, the way in which a large plate of oranges were [sic] conducted one after another into the professor’s private keeping was a lesson in Chess playing that we shall not easily forget. We have frequently wondered what potent agency was at work to produce such Chess Giants as a Steinitz….

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Bg7 6. d4 d6 7.  N×g4 B×g4 8.  Q×g4 B×d4 9.  c3 Be5 10.  B×f4 B×f4 11.  Q×f4 Qf6 12.  Qe3 Nc6 13.  Nd2 0–0–0 14.  Bc4 Nh6 15. 0–0–0 Qg7 16. Bd5 Ng4 17. Qe2 Nce5 18. Nf3 h5 19. Nd4 Qh6† 20. Kb1 Ne3 21. Rde1 N×d5 22. e×d5 Qg6† 23. Ka1 Qd3 24. Qf2 Ng4 … 1–0. Here Black left to catch the mail train home. On Thursday, the 19th of April, Steinitz was engaged by the Norfolk and Norwich Chess Club, where he gave a 19board simultaneous display. Steinitz won 16 games and drew

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three. During a meal-break at a nearby restaurant, a chess set that had belonged to the Rev. Horatio Bolton, the problem composer, was formally presented to the club by his widow. A local paper reported that “Herr Steinitz’ [sic] play was extraordinary, and the terminations of many of the games were exceedingly beautiful.”9 The problem expert John Keeble (who was one of the defeated opponents) later remembered this as his first visit to the club. It is possible that Steinitz paid many more working visits of this kind, but very few are mentioned in his columns. The Jewish Chronicle (but not The Field) reported that Steinitz gave a simultaneous exhibition at the Jewish Working Men’s Club in London on Monday, 30 April. It was at that period the strongest working-class chess club in England, and upwards of 200 persons attended. He played 16 games, two of them blindfold (against Morris Harris and I. Perez) but play was suspended at midnight with the score +4 –0 =1 in Steinitz’s favor. The unfinished games—against Günzberg [sic] and H. Jacobs among others—were to be resumed the following Sunday at 4 p.m. The draw was with Louis Cohen while H. Eschwege was one of those Steinitz defeated. No game scores were published and the final result never appeared in the paper.10 In late June 1877, when the score was 1–1, Blackburne’s match with Zukertort collapsed after a default by the man who was collecting stakes on the former’s behalf in Manchester.11 Whether as a result of his own initiative or that of his backers, Blackburne around the 21st of July challenged Steinitz to a re-match. Perhaps, since the £30 had eventually been collected, those who had subscribed Blackburne’s stake were apparently willing to risk it in a revenge match with Steinitz, unlikely though a positive outcome might have seemed to them. The Figaro of 25 July mentioned that negotiations were in progress and that the match “will in all probability come off towards the latter part of next month.”12 This did not happen. As some commentators at the time predicted, Steinitz would make difficulties. The Westminster Papers of August wrote: The past month has produced another sensational incident in the form of a challenge directed by Mr. Blackburne against Herr Steinitz for a stake of fifty pounds a side, to be played under the same conditions as governed the last match in which these players engaged. It will probably come to nothing, however, for some time to come. Herr Steinitz requires the stakes to be raised to sixty pounds a side, and the correspondence between the belligerents is suggestive of interminable negociations [sic] and differences to be reconciled.

Steinitz probably did not see a re-match as easy money but instead as a risk to his reputation, especially since he was now out of practice and Blackburne in good form. Probably he had no intention of playing and therefore insisted on the same stakes as before, calculating that this was too much money for Blackburne to raise. Effectively this refusal marked Steinitz’s withdrawal from master play for several

years. In his typical rhetorical style, he made his excuses in the Figaro: T HE PROPOSED MATCH BETWEEN MESSRS. B LACKBURNE AND STEINITZ.—It seems now most improbable that the return match between the above-named players will come off for the present, though the difficulty is apparently a trifling one. It will be remembered that on the last occasion Mr. Steinitz had the good fortune of winning seven games right off from his opponent, who proved himself, beyond all question, the strongest English player within a short time after that match, by winning the Divan tournament, for which Mr. Steinitz had not entered, with two clear games ahead of every other competitor. The stakes of that match were only £60 a side, and considering that even before that decisive victory Mr. Steinitz had come out first in the last two great international tournaments of London and Vienna, while Mr. Blackburne held the second place on both occasions, the former gentleman would have been clearly entitled to demand that the amount of the stakes should be raised much higher when he was again challenged. Mr. Steinitz, however, in order to give his opponent every facility, declared himself content with playing a return match for the same amount as last time. Mr. Blackburne, however, insists that he will only play for £50 a side, and though the difference is trifling, it is regarded as a question of principle: and, as matters stand at present, neither party is likely to give way.13

The Divan Crisis In the second half of 1877, a war broke out in print between Steinitz and Duffy, the latter having MacDonnell as his first lieutenant. While Steinitz had two chess columns, the enemy between them controlled the chess output of no fewer than four publications: the Westminster Papers, Land and Water, the Illustrated London News, and the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News.14 There was also a physical battleground: Simpson’s Divan. The principal documents in the case can be found in Appendix IV. The best place to start this complicated story is a paragraph Steinitz wrote in 1883, looking back on events that had occurred six years previously. He did this when he was replying to allegations made in The Chess-Monthly; the full text may be found in Appendix VI. Steinitz began by explaining to American readers that the Divan was not a club (as Hoffer had misleadingly described it) although it did have an area (the chess room) that was not free to enter. It was there that about August 1877 he insulted an “individual” who was plainly Duffy. Steinitz explained: All parts are open to the public, with the slight restriction in reference to the chess room, which is reserved for customers who dine in the establishment or who pay a small entrance or a subscription varying according to its term. The rule is not rigorously enforced, and all the professionals in London as well as some so-called amateurs, are on the free list. Such was in reality the stage where the shocking drama was enacted in which I can only give you the bare outlines, for the plot is too complicated with details. In a private conversation I was “drawn out,” to use some unparliamentary language about an individual who had persecuted me for years in four different newspapers. I regret to say that I used the language

10. Absent from the Board, 1877–1881 in his absence, for I certainly ought to have used it to his face; but I amended matters in that respect some months later on another part of the stage, namely the cigar shop of that establishment. The outraged individual was co-proprietor of a monthly chess and gambling journal, of which, by the way, Mr. Zukertort was the innocent game editor.15 By the same sort of accident the other proprietor of that monthly chesspool happened to be the solicitor of the Divan company, and horribile dictu, to use the expression of the Chess Monthly, I was “not admitted,” which practically meant that I was to be removed from the free-list, never to enter again the happy institution with an empty stomach, for I was either bound to dine at or to offer a subscription to the establishment before I could establish for myself a legal claim of admission. Mirabile dictu “some members” (perhaps there were more than “some”) “petitioned.” I certainly did not, but refused to set my foot into that place until the matter was, strange to say, settled in a perfectly honourable manner, through the intervention of the chief editor of the Field.16

Steinitz had been a regular at the Divan for 15 years, enjoying the benefit of its free list. He went there to watch games and collect chess information, and probably he still played games with gentlemen for money: the “shilling-hunting” of which he and the other foreign professionals were frequently accused. It may be noted, though, that in the Figaro on 17 October 1877 he claimed that “Mr. Steinitz has practically given up skittle-play for several years past” and he nowadays only went to the Divan on Saturdays “for the purpose of seeing old chess friends, and, as can be proved by scores of habitués, who had even upbraided him about his retirement, he has exactly played one single game for mere amusement in that establishment for the last six months.”17 Steinitz’s public insult to Duffy had apparently been uttered some time in August. For how long Steinitz was excluded from the Divan before Walsh interceded and had the ban lifted is unknown; it was perhaps several weeks. In the meantime, it appears that Steinitz had been making threatening noises about the people responsible for his exclusion; he does not appear to have used the word “crushed” in print. A lengthy satirical article opened the September Westminster Papers. Duffy evidently had been searching his German vocabulary for a suitably colorful and amusing word to describe Steinitz: British amateurs of chess will, we hope, be sorry to learn that all the English exponents of the game in London journalism are threatened with a direful doom. The terrible chief of a dreadful band—the Vehmgericht of Shilling-Hunters—has imparted, confidentially, to several hundred citizens of London that all persons who have been guilty of deriding the noble sport of shilling-hunting are to be crushed at an early date. Crushed is the awful sentence. Not, mark you, merely reviled in the epithets of the slums, that has been tried, and it has failed to effect its purpose, but “Crushed,” my masters. Crushed out of all recognition by the conventional coroner and his intelligent jury.18

A Vehmgericht was a secret criminal tribunal in medieval Westphalia which exercised capital punishment. So the implication in the Papers was that Steinitz and his fellow “shilling-hunters” would exact the ultimate penalty on those

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who criticized them in print. Further on, the Papers expressed its objection to professionalism in general as “the bane of all sport from skittles and horse-racing to the game of Chess.” MacDonnell reprinted some of this in his column, explaining that Steinitz’s other targets were himself, Potter, and even Blackburne “for, although he is a ‘professional’ chess player, he has not chosen to fight against his countrymen.”19 Steinitz conducted his column in the London Figaro much as Löwenthal had done before him, the main emphasis being on chess problems, replying to correspondents and providing short snippets of news. The readership of this column (likely to have been principally urban and middle-class) would have been dissimilar to that of The Field, although some Londoners perhaps bought that paper just for the chess. In times like the fall of 1877, it appears that Mortimer was supportive of the professionals and granted Steinitz latitude, and extra space, to defend himself against his critics and say things that The Field would not print. The English chess journalists also hinted that Blackburne had been ill when Steinitz beat him. They moreover blamed Zukertort for refusing to continue his match with Blackburne. As a result, Zukertort found himself on the same side as Steinitz and Zukertort defended himself in a letter to the Figaro of 12 September, from which the following is an extract: A certain portion of the metropolitan chess press has carried on its business for some time on the principle of a joint-stock company, with the premium of mutual praise…. These gentlemen, therefore, make up for their ignorance of scientific chess by scurrilous attacks against the leading chess players outside their ring…. The account of the termination of my match with Mr. Blackburne given in the columns of this clique is a worthy sample of the fairness of the writers…. It is certainly creditable to be able to win money by playing chess, and unquestionably more honourable than to earn it by writing on chess in the way mentioned.

Steinitz followed this up with an article on 19 September headed “Professional chess players and amateur accountants” in which he referred to what he called “the inky ruffianism” complained of in Zukertort’s letter. He then challenged Duffy head-on, questioning his competence to conduct even one chess column. Certain individuals, blessed with more ambition than brain, who are well aware of their incapacity to compete above board, have been practising a kind of underhand game, which is much easier than playing chess…. The greatest portion of the metropolitan chess press has been placed in the hands of one individual, manifestly innocent of chess skill, and an incompetent chess critic…. The newspaper chess columns, which used to be devoted solely to the records of combats of first-rate masters, are now cultivating the puerile performances of Knight-players, often full of misprints which are not acknowledged, and are illustrated by absurd editorial notes.20

With Steinitz’s Figaro column coming out mid-week and Duffy’s columns on Saturday, the timing was perfect for them to exchange blows. The Illustrated London News would not

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Steinitz in London

allow personal attacks but Duffy had much freer rein in Land and Water. So when it was his turn on Saturday 22nd he wrote that:

some years disturbed its peace, it has done more for the cultivation and spread of Chess than any association of the kind that ever existed. The West End [sic] Chess Club was shut up last week. No more shilling hunting there.25

No one now believes that the fortunes of English chess are dependent upon the action of a couple of foreign professors of the game residing in London, unless indeed the professors themselves entertain such a notion…. By-the-by, the crushing process described by the Westminster Papers for the current month, has been commenced. When the assault is developed, we shall have something to say about it.21

Steinitz found a defender, who, writing in on 27 September, signed himself “B.S.” Or perhaps he was taking a leaf from Staunton’s book by writing an “anonymous” letter to his column that expressed his own view of the matter:

Steinitz had probably been restored to the free list at the Divan by this point because the October Westminster Papers had a line saying “the decease of the West-End Chess Club … has driven the shilling hunters to their last refuge in London.” Steinitz did not make any contribution to the debate in the Figaro of 26 September, but apparently he had been busy drawing his piece of the 19th to the attention of whoever would listen. Duffy’s next move was to mock Steinitz’s way of speaking in the Gossip section of his column:

SIR… Will you allow me to point out that it is not the hard-earned shilling of the first-class professional players that makes the chess-room unpleasant. It is the self-styled amateur (perhaps a pawn-and-two player) who causes the mischief. Their name is legion, and they are to be found in all the chief centres of the metropolis; they do not afford themselves a cigar, but they wish to win enough to pay for their coffee. You find them sneaking in and looking for a player of inferior grade; they have no ambition to meet their equal, but when such a catastrophe does occur, they quickly discover that it is time for them to go…. It is amusing to find one contemporary supporting the other in the matter of professionals. The editorial monopoly fully explains why the abusive twaddle of the chess press has never been answered before.

Saturday being the busy day for shilling hunters, the old cry of “Vould you like to blay a game?” was changed to “Haf you seen my article?” and the general confession of ignorance was condemned in that awful penalty of hearing “the article” read by its author. “Verily,” said one victim, “I have saved five shillings, but I have got a terrible headache.”22

Also on Saturday the 29th, the Sporting and Dramatic News fired a broadside (probably written by MacDonnell) in an item headed “Shilling Hunting” which, without naming Steinitz, argued that winning “paltry prizes” in tournaments was not the only qualification for writing chess columns and defended Duffy by saying that Steinitz’s “crushing” denunciation was “reserved for the man that has prescribed to expose the evil of shilling play…. To stop the trade of shilling play is a public work and a good work.” It was frankly admitted that there was a campaign against the professionals at the Divan: Some two years ago a few English chess writers resolved to put an end to a state of things that rendered a London chess room unsafe for any gentleman desirous of avoiding embroilment in a tavern brawl, and they have at length succeeded in drawing the offenders into a public statement of their aims.23

The closure of the doors of the West-End Chess Club came about on 29 September, but perhaps by now this did not matter to Steinitz. Duffy pronounced this verdict in Land and Water: “It was, for a time, the happy hunting-ground of the noisiest German band in London, the gentry who believe that it is highly ‘creditable’ to ‘win’ other people’s money. Among Englishmen there is a strong preference for earning it.”24 The writer also rejoiced at its failure compared with the revival of the parent club: The Winter Season at the City Chess Club will be commenced next week, when an attractive programme prepared by the Committee, will be submitted to the members assembled at the annual meeting. Since this club was freed from the discordant German band that for

The October Westminster Papers appeared around the same date with a caricature, captioned “Crushed!” which showed Steinitz gleefully stamping on the rival papers: the Vehm-gericht in action. Steinitz took some time to compose a suitable answer to all this. His Figaro editorial on 17 October consisted of another lengthy piece headed “A Literary Outrage” in which he quoted some of the things that had been said about him. Here is an excerpt. Our recent disclosure of the trades’ unionism established amongst an inferior clique of chess competitors has evoked a volley of abuse, chiefly directed against the editor of this department and the professionals, the labor of throwing dirt in various ways being, as usual, divided between the different chess organs, which are used as catapults for that purpose, under the management of the commercial chess champion of Tokenhouse Yard … [Steinitz went on to describe Duffy as] a sort of Hibernian hybrid, between a city clerk in an accountant’s office and a would be chess critic, who is carrying on the obstructive policy in chess matters, having wormed himself into the chess press under the pretence of being an authority on the game, while, in reality, no surgical operation would ever fit him for any higher grade than that of a fifth-rate chess-player, whom first-rates would give the large odds of a Knight.

Unwisely Steinitz also brought up the 1876 Blackburne match issue. This finally prompted a public statement by his opponent. In a letter published by both the I.S.D.N. and the Figaro, Blackburne took issue with what Steinitz had written about him. Blackburne blamed his bad play in February on “an acute attack of rheumatism … a fact which was well known at the time to many of my intimate friends.”26 On 3 November in Land and Water, Duffy backed up Blackburne with another volley at Steinitz before sailing for America for several weeks. He replied to MacDonnell’s toast at the City of London Club by referring to his labors as a chess journalist, also admitting that his persecution of Steinitz had been a deliberate campaign.27

10. Absent from the Board, 1877–1881

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weary, nor the despatch of business hindered, or rather made impossible by portentous speeches, each of them mostly containing an ounce of meaning, or intended meaning, to a hundredweight of words. The evil spirit has been exorcised from the City Chess Club, and been driven into the desert, and concurrently therewith peace, harmony, and good fellowship prevail where once it was otherwise.29

After 1877 the attacks on Steinitz were never again so vicious, partly because the Land and Water column was no longer conducted by Duffy, who lost another outlet when the Westminster Papers closed down in 1879. MacDonnell, whose sense of humor was likely to outweigh his Christianity on occasion, continued to criticize but mostly to tease. MacDonnell had a pet name for Steinitz which he often employed when writing his Chess Chat comments. For example, “Fieldwitz, I am sorry to say, has been degenerating again…. Fieldwitz appears to have lost his wits but not his cunning….”30 Elsewhere he called him “Surewitz,” and when Steinitz supposedly, in the Divan, said his initials W.S. were the same as those of William Shakespeare and Sir Walter Scott, a wag called out that they were also the initials of William Sykes, the burglar in Charles Dickens’s Oliver Twist.31 Steinitz “crushing” the papers in which he was viciously attacked in the fall of 1877. (Cartoon in The Westminster Papers, X [October 1877] facing page 95.) The aim which for the last two years he had had in view, namely, that efforts which had been persistently made to override and depreciate English chess should no longer be carried out in private, but should be made public, confident as he was that when such should be the case English chess-players might be trusted to form their own opinion upon the matter. He had succeeded, and should not now feel disposed to take any further notice of the parties whose hands he had forced.

Potter was then called upon to respond and it is clear from what he is quoted as saying that he had now changed sides. According to Duffy, Potter “alluded to the fact that the enemy was not now supported by any of the first-class English players.” Then MacDonnell, in a second speech, “pointed out the domineering character of foreign pretensions, and the observations of the three speakers seemed to give much satisfaction to their hearers.” Steinitz was not finished yet, as his Figaro editorial of 7 November (in Appendix IV) shows. Apropos of Blackburne’s rheumatism excuse, he asked what malady had afflicted his opponent in 1863 and 1870 and remarked on Blackburne’s rapid recovery to win the 1876 Divan tournament.28 He concluded that: “No more than a general on the battle-field has a match-player, while fighting for public honors, any right to be in bad health.” The last word, though, lay with the Westminster Papers of December 1877: The City Club-room is, indeed, a pleasant place now-a-days, for bickerings are unknown, cabals and party strifes are a tradition, no man expects the adulation of his fellows. The day when the self-worshipper was worshipped have utterly gone by; ungovernable pride and the lust for power no longer have any influence there, nor is the heart made

The Rev. George Alcock MacDonnell (aka “Mars”), Chess Editor of the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News for almost twenty years, with his autograph, from the frontispiece of his book Chess Life-Pictures.

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Steinitz in London

The long-term effect of this hostility was to drive Steinitz out of England permanently a few years later and it was British chess that suffered most by the loss. In an 1878 letter to White, Fraser commented on the unfairness of the attacks, since English players had received Mackenzie well after Paris, where he had finished a creditable fourth. It is curious to note how “professionalism” is belauded in Mackenzie & execrated in Steinitz (for I suppose I am right in calling Mackenzie a professional?) It is senseless and withal useless to belittle Steinitz in the way Duffy does—for his achievements speak for themselves, & whatever the amount of excuse made for his opponents, the fact remains that they have each & all been defeated by him. There is in every probability some personal cause for Duffy’s reiterated sneers but I don’t think it hurts Steinitz professionally. His name is now excluded in toto from all the Journals under Duffy’s control!!32

Events in 1878 The first mention of Steinitz in the New Year was that on Tuesday, 15 January, he was among a large crowd of spec-

tators who witnessed Zukertort win 10 games simultaneously blindfold at the Old Change Chess Club in the City of London. Blackburne, Hoffer, and man named Lee took turns to act as teller. Steinitz continued writing both his columns, rarely mentioning himself. In The Field of 9 March and, more briefly, the Figaro of 13 March it was his sad duty to write the obituary of Cochrane, whom Steinitz only knew personally after the veteran retired in 1870 from long service in India. They were both members of the St. George’s Club. On the Wednesday before his death, Cochrane had called at the Divan hoping to show Steinitz an idea in the Muzio Gambit. Not finding him there, Cochrane left the variation for him in a letter, which (an eyewitness informed Steinitz) he wrote out from memory without recourse to a chessboard. In the Figaro, Steinitz commented on the tactical attacking style of the veteran, which was different from the “studious circumspection and careful accumulation of small advantages which in our day have much increased the difficulties of our science.” On Thursday, 11 April 1878, Steinitz officiated once again as umpire for the sixth Oxford versus Cambridge match, once more hosted by the St. George’s, in their rooms at King Street. At the dinner afterwards, in the St. James’s Hall, J. I. Minchin strongly defended Steinitz in a speech which the chess editor of The Field was happy to paraphrase in his column the following Saturday. Mr. Minchin … in proposing the health of the umpire, passed a high eulogium on Mr. Steinitz, both as a player and a chess critic. He felt sorry to introduce an unpleasant subject on this festive occasion, but, on comparing the strict impartiality and honesty which Mr. Steinitz had shown as a chess writer with the discreditable personalities which prevailed for such a long time amongst the greater portion of the metropolitan chess press, he could not help saying that he felt ashamed at the contrast. As an English gentleman he deeply deplored that the British name for hospitality and public fairness should have been so grossly disgraced by the attacks on [a] foreign competitor, who had gained the chess supremacy in fair and honest fight.33

William Norwood Potter had been Steinitz’s lieutenant on the correspondence match with Vienna, and editor of the City of London Chess Magazine for 1874/5. Around 1876 they had a catastrophic falling-out. In November 1877 he became Chess Editor of Land and Water. (From The Chess- Monthly, XVI [April 1895].)

This speech drew angry responses from MacDonnell, who apparently had not received an invitation. Firstly, in his column on 20 April, he complained about the “gross mismanagement that has been exhibited for the past two years” by the St. George’s Club. Part of the problem seems to have been that their club rooms were less able to accommodate large amounts of spectators than venues used previously for these matches. On the basis of hearsay, apparently, he wrote that “the staple of the evening’s entertainment seems to have consisted of vulgar adulation of foreign professionals who were present, and gratuitous calumniation of certain English gentlemen who were not present.”34 As this did not clearly explain, to readers who were not in the know, that Minchin had attacked Duffy (and MacDonnell too), he went on the attack two weeks later in a piece headlined A Rhetorical Outrage. MacDonnell had received accounts of the evening and claimed that Minchin’s speech “was received with

10. Absent from the Board, 1877–1881 unmistakable signs of general disapprobation.” He said that the secretary of the St. George’s Club had “flattered certain foreigners and befouled his fellow-countrymen.” He said that Steinitz had not answered Blackburne’s criticism in the letter published the previous year and said that Minchin was wrong to make his speech in his official capacity as secretary of a leading club. “We trust that his opinions will be repudiated and his conduct condemned by that club,” but they were not.35

Summer in Paris In the summer of 1878, the French Third Republic staged a large international exhibition in Paris, designed to restore national pride after the humiliation inflicted by Prussia earlier in the decade. As with Paris 1867 and London 1862, a major chess tournament was held alongside, the first in five years. Accordingly it attracted a strong field. In a lengthy piece in the Figaro, Steinitz explained why he would not be playing, but the manner in which he did this drew some criticism. He reminded readers that at Vienna 1873 he lost only two games “while every other competitor lost nine at least.” He won 16 games right off the reel without even a draw. Even so, he said would consider the winner his “complete equal,” if it was somebody he had previously beaten. Here are some extracts from his piece: Mr. Steinitz has decided not to participate in the tournament. Failing health has compelled him for several years to relinquish the practice over the board which is so necessary to the preservation of chess strength, and having suffered seriously from the effects of overwork after the last match with Blackburne, he does not consider himself justified in again making the attempt of combining heavy match-play with the attention due to his engagements in connection with the periodical chess literature, which, no doubt, will make special demands on his labours during the coming congress. The reputation of Mr. Steinitz as a player must, therefore, rest on his exploits during the last sixteen years, since his arrival in this country in 1862, a summary of which may not be out of place in noticing his retirement. During this period Mr. Steinitz has encountered the strongest masters of his time, and has obtained the victory in every set match on even terms in which he was engaged. As some unfair comparisons have been drawn between him and Morphy, it will be only just to point out that Mr. Steinitz has met and defeated every one of Morphy’s strongest opponents, with the exception of Harrwitz and Löwenthal, and has, besides, established a decisive superiority, both in personal encounters and in the general score of tournaments, over the following players, whom Morphy has never seen, viz., Blackburne, De Vere, Hirschfeld, MacDonnell, Neuman [sic], Potter, Rosenthal, Wisker, Winawer, and Zukertort. He won four handicap tournaments without losing a single game, and on one occasion, in the handicap of the City of London Chess Club, he won 12 games right off without even drawing any…. Mr. Steinitz won a prize in each tournament he entered for, and in the last two international tourneys he carried off the chief honors…. Nor has any analyst been able to show a single point in any of the 16 games in which Mr. Steinitz could be alleged to have had the worst

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of the position…. Nevertheless, Mr. Steinitz wishes it to be understood that he will regard the winner of the forthcoming Paris Congress as his perfect equal, though he may have beaten him before; but should any player carry off the chief honors with whom Mr. Steinitz has not yet played, the winner will be entitled to consider himself the superior until Mr. Steinitz is prepared to re-enter the chess arena.36

It was not only Steinitz’s rival columnists in London who were offended by the arrogance of articles like these. Fred Thompson, whose column had now transferred to the Derbyshire Advertiser, was contemptuous, heading his response “The Steinitz, the whole Steinitz and nothing but the Steinitz.” After counting up the lines of small type in The Figaro he found they contained 57 percent Steinitz and mocked his pretension in saying he would consider the Paris winner his equal when he had not entered the event. Such a comment from a champion in other sports who now chose not to compete would be laughable. Mr. Steinitz must give way to younger and stronger men who do keep up their chess strength…. Has Steinitz reached Mont Blanc’s topmost peak and is there no more to discover—no new opening to analyse, nor ingenious defence to discover? … Mr. Steinitz must reconsider his position. A game cock crows naturally. But then cocks that are game have a right to crow, for they keep their spurs in fighting order.37

The Paris tournament would have been greater still had Steinitz participated but it was worthy of the occasion; the only other significant absentee was Louis Paulsen. Several European countries were represented and two American players, Captain Mackenzie and James Mason (1849–1905), crossed the Atlantic for it. Mason thereafter made his home in London, significantly strengthening the cohort of leading masters resident in the English capital, especially as his play became even stronger in the next few years. His results were sometimes erratic, because of alcoholism, but he, like Bird, was always an opponent to be reckoned with. The tournament featured 12 players meeting each rival in turn with both colors, and draws counted half a point. The great Anderssen was playing his last tournament. This was the first of Zukertort’s great triumphs, although he had to win a play-off match with Winawer to clinch first prize. The duration of the tournament was 18 June to 24 July although extended to 31 July by playoffs for first and fourth/fifth places. Blackburne, who finished third, might have run them closer had he not been seriously ill during the event. Steinitz went to Paris for the whole event, writing round-by-round reports and game annotations which set new standards in chess journalism. The incident when Steinitz and Blackburne supposedly had a fight in their hotel possibly occurred during this tournament, although, if Steinitz (writing polemically in 1889) can be believed, there had been a previous physical clash between them in 1867 at Purssell’s Chess Rooms. There are no accounts by impartial witnesses in the chess literature.

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Steinitz in London

Steinitz also alleged other incidents in which Blackburne got into fights, but the only one for which there is independent evidence occurred in 1884 on a ship bound for Australia, to which Steinitz cannot have been an eyewitness.38 Steinitz was certainly an argumentative person but whether he ever came to blows is another question and allegations are unproven. His quarrels with Kolisch were almost certainly verbal only and at Paris they made their peace.39 By 1 August the London contingent were back home and it was left to Steinitz to sum up. In the London Figaro of 7 August, he said all the British representatives did well. The tournament arrangements made it the best test so far of the strength of leading players, and the bottom half was stronger than at Vienna 1873. In the play-off, Steinitz wrote, Winawer had the better of the first three games but “was out-generalled in a final excellent combination” in the third. In the fourth and decisive game, Zukertort made a hazardous and unsound piece sacrifice which succeeded because of a weak move by his opponent. Steinitz was always able to give his rivals at the board their due, saying: “Though Zukertort has only gradually grown in strength since his arrival in England, in 1872, his grand victory places him on a level at least with the greatest masters of the age.” Zukertort hosted a dinner on 22 August to his fellow competitors and friends at the St James’s Restaurant. Gümpel proposed a toast to chess and to Steinitz, who replied.40 On Thursday, 14 November, the St. George’s Club gave a celebration dinner to Zukertort at the Criterion, with about 50 gentlemen present. After several other toasts were proposed and answered, “Professor Wayte gave the toast of the Chess Masters, coupled with the name of Herr Steinitz, who, in returning thanks, bore witness to the impartiality and the generous spirit which the committee of the Paris Chess Congress had evinced towards the competitors of different nationalities.”41

Casual Games, 1878–1879 The following game, which is not in Bachmann but was found by Pickard, had a curious publishing history. The Chess-Monthly, XII (April 1891), page 250, published the game from move 11 as “ending from a game played in 1879 between Mr. Anthony (White) and a well-known master.” Shortly afterwards, in his own magazine, Steinitz confessed that he was the loser and he provided the complete score, except that he misprinted White’s ninth move as the usual 9. e5 instead of 9. Bg5 which was actually played. Steinitz also had the wrong rook move in the final combination. He said that when this game was played “about twenty years ago” he requested Mr. Anthony publish it with Steinitz’s name but it had appeared in C.P.C. as Anthony versus “an amateur,” modesty of which Steinitz said he disapproved.

The first publication was indeed as “A lively skirmish between Mr. Anthony and another Amateur” in the January 1879 Chess Player’s Chronicle but the game was undated. It was possibly played somewhat earlier than 1878.

486. E. Anthony–Steinitz Casual game, probably London, 1878? Evans Gambit (C52) C.P.C., III (January 1879), page 9; I.C.M, VII (August 1891), page 236.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d×c3 8. Qb3 Qf6 9. Bg5 The usual 9. e5 was analyzed by Anderssen in the Schachzeitung for November 1871 and reviewed in several issues of L&W in January and February 1872. Zukertort discussed 9. Bg5 in his article “The Compromised Defence and its Assailants,” in the Westminster Papers, VIII (June 1875), pages 27–29. Apparently 9. Bg5 had been proposed by Wisker in The Sportsman, when discussing Zukertort’s earlier Evans Gambit series, “Forty Years in the Life of a Favourite.” 9. … Qg6 10. N×c3 B×c3 11. Q×c3 h6? For 11. … Nf6? see Game 373, after which Zukertort came to prefer 11. … Nge7, which Anthony’s notes call “the best and usual move.” That had been played in an offhand game Zytogorski–Anderssen, London 1851, and was recommended by Zukertort in W.P., VI (March 1874), on page 225, continuing 12. B×e7 K×e7 “and White has no effective way to proceed with the attack.” Many years later, 12. Bd3 was tried in Steinitz–Honneger, New York simul 1883, but that game was drawn. 12. Bh4 Anthony wrote that “In an analysis of this branch of the Compromised Defence, which appeared some time ago in L&W, the continuation is 12. Ne5 N×e5 13. Q×e5† Kf8 14. Bh4 d6 and the game is dismissed in White’s favour. Black’s two extra Pawns appear to us a sufficient compensation for his confined position.” 12. … Nge7 Anthony: “This mode of play, the strongest on the preceding move, is now a bird of a very different colour.” T.C.M.: “The transposition of moves makes all the difference.” 13. Ne5 N×e5 14. Q×e5 f6 15. Q×c7 Q×e4 Anthony: “Immediately fatal, but there is no good move.” 16. Rfe1 Pickard’s database, following Steinitz’s move order in I.C.M., has 16. Rae1 but C.P.C. had the KR moving first; the versions transpose at move 18. 16. … Q×h4 17. R×e7† K×e7 18. Re1† Kf8 19. Qd8 mate (1–0).

487. Steinitz–Mr. M Knight odds, London (1), October 1878 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 402, game 398 in the second edition); The Field, 19 October 1878; Ellis, Chess Sparks (game 230), page 83.

1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Bc5 3. b4 B×b4 4. f4 d6 5. Nf3 Nf6 6. f×e5 Ng4 7. 0–0 Bc5† 8. Kh1 Nf2† 9. R×f2 B×f2 10. Qf1 Bb6

10. Absent from the Board, 1877–1881 11. B×f7† Ke7 12. d4 h6 13. Nh4 Kd7 14. e6† Kc6 15. Rb1 1–0

488. Steinitz–Mr. M Knight odds, London (2), October 1878 Remove White’s queen’s knight Bachmann (game 403, game 399 in the second edition); The Field, 19 October 1878.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6 4. Bc4 Nc6 5. c3 Nf6 6. d3 h6 7. b4 Bb6 8. a4 a6 9. a5 Ba7 10. Bb3 0–0 11. f5 d5 12. Qe2 Re8 13. Bc2 d4 14. c4 N×b4 15. Bb1 c5 16. Rg1 b5 17. a×b6 B×b6 18. g4 Nh7 19. h4 f6 20. g5 h×g5 21. h×g5 N×g5 22.  N×g5 f×g5 23.  B×g5 Qd6 24.  Qh5 Bd7 25.  f6 Qf8 26. Rh1 1–0

489. The Rev. S. W. Earnshaw–Steinitz London 1879? Salvio Gambit (C37) This game is not in Bachmann, but was found in I.S.D.N., 28 June 1879, where MacDonnell wrote: “The following game was played some time ago between Herr Steinitz and the Rev. S. W. Earnshaw.” Perhaps it was even played long before 1879, since the dubious Salvio Gambit seems a poor choice against Steinitz who had played it so often with White—unless they had perhaps agreed on it to test his unusual 6th move.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. Ne5?! Qh4† 6. Kf1 Nf6!? 7. Nc3 d6 8. Nd3 f3 9. g3 Qh3† 10. Ke1 Bh6 11. Nf2 Qh5 12. d4 Nc6 13. a3 Be6 14. Qd3 0–0–0 15. B×e6† f×e6 16. B×h6 Q×h6 17. h3 Qg6 18. h×g4 N×g4 19. N×g4 Q×g4 20. Kf2 e5 21. d5 Nd4 22. Rh4 Qg6 23. Rah1 h5 24. b4 Rdf8 25. Qe3 a6 26. Qd2 Ne2! 27. N×e2 f×e2† 28. K×e2 Q×g3 29. Kd1 Rf2 30. Qe1 Qf3† 31. Kc1 Re2 32. Qd1 Q×a3† 33. Kb1 Q×b4† 34. Kc1 R×e4 0–1

490. R. Steel–Steinitz Casual game, London, July 1879 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann (game 404, game 400 in the second edition); The Field, 19 July 1879: “The following remarkably interesting game was played at Simpson’s Divan, some time ago, by Mr. Steel, a member of the Chess Clubs of Liverpool and Calcutta, who is probably at present the strongest player in India, against Herr Steinitz.”

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. c3 Nf6 5. d4 e×d4 6. c×d4 Bb4† 7. Bd2 B×d2† 8. Nb×d2 0–0 9. 0–0 d5 10. e×d5 N×d5 11. Qb3 Nb6 12. Rfe1 Bg4 13. Re4 B×f3 14. Q×f3 N×d4 15. Qc3 c5 16. Rae1 Qf6 17. Re7 Na4 18. Qa5 N×b2 19. Q×c5 b6 20. Qd5 g6 21. Ne4 Qg7 22. Ng5 N×c4 23. N×f7 Qf6 24. Ng5† Ne6 25. Q×e6† Q×e6 26. R1xe6 Rad8 27. f3 Rd6 28. R×d6 N×d6 29. R×h7 Rf5 30. Rd7 Rd5 31. Kf2 Rd2† 32. Ke1 R×g2 33. R×d6 R×g5 34. Rd8† Kf7 35. Rd7† Kf6 36. R×a7 … And, after a few more moves, the game was drawn (½–½).

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Events in London, 1878/1879 The final months of The West-End Chess Club in 1878 and 1879 were inextricably connected with a novel sideshow (literally) in London during the same period, because of the involvement of Gümpel in both. He was president of the one and inventor of the other. His “automaton” Mephisto had a novel design which baffled those who knew that previous chess-playing “machines” were worked by a master of small stature hidden inside, as had been the case with Kempelen’s “Turk.” None of the contemporaries managed to work out that the secret was electricity (of which few people knew much at this time). Mephisto was operated remotely by a human player (usually Gunsberg in the early days) who was able to control the machine from an adjacent room.42 Gümpel launched Mephisto after a dinner at his house on 30 March 1878 at which several other leading players and chess journalists (including Duffy) were present, but Steinitz was not.43 This raises the intriguing possibility that he may have been operating the machine, although more likely it was Gunsberg. (We know it cannot have been any of the masters named as present: Bird, Blackburne, Hirschfeld, Hoffer, Potter, and Zukertort.) The reason for Steinitz’s absence may just have been illness or a private engagement of some kind. The Field did not report the occasion but sent along a science reporter a few days later.44 Later, in the Figaro of 21 August, Steinitz joked that since Mephisto was in action in London while most of the leading players were away in Paris, he must be either in two places at once or an unknown strong player. On 2 October, Steinitz was one of the guests at another demonstration, the day before Mephisto went on public exhibition at the London Aquarium, with Gunsberg definitely the operator.45 The last rites of the West-End Club were read in the early months of 1879. Although it had abruptly ceased to function the previous September, as a body it had never been formally wound up. Meanwhile, Gümpel was attempting to make money with his invention. After the season at the London Aquarium, which was unsuccessful financially (an attempt to form a chess club there having failed), he opened Mephisto’s Chess Rooms on the premises near the Strand which he had taken over from the club. It was open for six days a week from 2 to 10 p.m., starting on 8 February 1879.46 The principal attraction was the chance to play a game against Mephisto but a sort of chess club was arranged too. Land and Water subsequently quoted Gümpel at length, explaining the terms on which he took over the club property. Former members would have a 33 percent discount on an annual subscription to Mephisto’s Rooms, and such funds that remained after all the assets and liabilities of the club had been audited would form prize money for a tournament to be played among such of the members as wished to compete.47 Potter commented that matters had been dealt with

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Steinitz in London

in somewhat irregular fashion, since the committee of the club (whose terms of office had long expired) had disposed of the property without reference to the members. Gümpel, who had a conflict of interest, eventually convened a general meeting of the former members, which was the right course of action, as Potter said. This duly took place at Monico’s Restaurant on 1 May with the Rev. J. Waltham in the chair. Gümpel’s proposition was accepted after some debate. Steinitz and Thompson “expressed their disapprobation at the irregular manner in which the club had been first suspended and then dissolved without the sanction of two general meetings as provided in the rules.”48 Ultimately it was agreed that the surplus of about £12 cash in hand, supplemented by £5 donated by Cubison, would be put as prizes for a handicap tournament at Mephisto’s rooms.49 Blackburne, Hoffer, Minchin and Potter quickly put down their names but Blackburne and Potter did not compete; there were 13 players eventually. Gümpel, meanwhile, was losing money as an impresario and decided to move his invention to Brighton in August. Mephisto’s Rooms were closed and instead he made arrangements for a private room at Monico’s where the tournament got underway in September.50

Various other happenings in the chess world required the attention of a busy chess editor. On Wednesday, 12 March, the St. George’s Club held a complimentary dinner to Minchin at the Criterion which was attended by over 30 gentlemen with Dartrey in the chair. Steinitz was one of the speakers (along with Wayte, Gümpel, and others) but there are no details specifically of what he said except that speakers praised Minchin’s “high qualities as a player and chess critic.”51 Anderssen died on 13 March, although this was not reported in London until the 19th, too late for more than the briefest mention in The Field on 22 March. Steinitz wrote at length the following Saturday, including annotations to the Immortal and Evergreen games. In the Figaro, he began: “One of the greatest masters of the age has solved the problem of life.” Steinitz was all praise, especially for his character and brilliance, but pointing out that Anderssen had been less successful in matches than in tournaments: he won London 1851, London 1862 and Baden-Baden 1870.52 Anderssen, wrote Steinitz, had left “an indelible impression on the history of our pastime, and is closely connected with the modern development of our game for more than thirty years.” Another “death” of a kind occurred the following month, when the final issue of the Westminster Papers, dated 1 April 1879, was published. The last great act of the deceased was to publish many of the game scores from the 1878 Paris tournament; without the extra space created for these games, many more might have been lost to posterity. The Papers passed away unmourned (in writing) by Steinitz who, like Staunton before him, had been painfully scorched in its pages by the vitriolic pen of Duffy. The vacancy in the chess literature would be filled in September by a new magazine The Chess-Monthly, edited by Hoffer and Zukertort, to many of whose utterings he would also have cause to object. Meanwhile, on 3 April Steinitz officiated yet again as umpire for the Oxford versus Cambridge university match, once more hosted by the St. George’s Club. A private event occurred on 7 June when Flora Steinitz Golder was baptized at the church of St. Saviour Hoxton (Hackney) at the age of 12. She had not been baptized at birth apparently (Steinitz being a Jew) but perhaps she was now, along with schoolmates, being confirmed in the Church of England and a prerequisite for that is baptism. It is unknown whether her father was present for the occasion. In August 1879 a strange rumor was going around, reproduced in some provincial newspapers, that the chess automaton “Ajeeb” had lately C. G. Gümpel’s chess-playing machine Mephisto, which he put on public been playing more strongly than usual because Steinitz was hidden inside. The scientist Richard display in 1878. (From a contemporary advertisement.)

10. Absent from the Board, 1877–1881

269

Baptismal record of Steinitz’s daughter in 1879. Note that once more “Steinitz” is stated as Flora’s second Christian name and “Golder” as the surname.

Proctor appears to have been responsible for this dubious allegation.53 Land and Water nowadays tried to avoid mentioning Steinitz, which was not hard because of his inactivity, but the reverse was not the case. In the Figaro on 10 September, Steinitz reported that the long-running Mason versus Potter match had been agreed drawn after Potter won game 21 to level the score at 6½ each. The rules of that match had evidently been drawn up in recognition of Potter’s drawing tendency and remembering the interminable 1861 contest between Paulsen and Kolisch. After eight draws, any more counted half a point each.54 So the next game would have been the last anyway because the match was for 7 up. Game 22 would have amounted to a 1-game match so the agreement not to play that game was reasonable. Steinitz observed that the players were equal in strength but had different qualities: Potter combines remarkable patience and tenacity with accurate mastery of detail. He never makes an oversight within the radius of his general vision, but his generalship is not of the highest order. Mason, on the other hand, possesses greater circumspection, and is capable of conceiving plans on a wider scale, but he is not so correct in his tactics, and he allows himself frequently to be carried away by his impetuosity to the commission of gross blunders. The match was, on the whole, very interesting, and will add credit to the reputation of both players.

Steinitz spent several days in Norwich in early September as the guest of Howard Taylor, the Norwich lawyer whom he had known for many years and who frequently provided hospitality for other chess masters including Blackburne and Zukertort. During this holiday Steinitz gave two small simultaneous exhibitions against members of the local chess

club at Cooper’s Restaurant. On Friday, September 5th, he played nine opponents and the following Tuesday 13 opponents, winning each game.55

Crisis at the London Figaro Towards the end of 1879, Steinitz was in danger of losing his second chess column although this did not happen. The Oxford Companion to Chess said in its article about Mortimer that the London Figaro “ceased publication when Mortimer went to prison rather than reveal the identity of a contributor whose work resulted in a libel action.”56 Among those misled by the passage just quoted was Spinrad in his aforementioned article about Mortimer. The truth is that, firstly, the identity of the contributor was self-evident so that is not why Mortimer went to prison, and secondly, the London Figaro survived this episode and indeed never ceased publication during his ownership of the paper. Mortimer’s involvement with it (and Steinitz’s) continued into 1882. In order to set the record straight, a substantial digression is warranted. Starting on 4 December 1878 (issue number 986 of the London Figaro on page 11), a long series of installments appeared of a saga entitled “Our Lunacy Laws… The Story of Mrs. Weldon, written by herself.” In this series, Georgina Weldon (née Treherne, 1837–1914)—a former lover of the opera composer Charles Gounod—started to tell the story of how her estranged husband, William Henry Weldon, attempted to have her committed to a mental hospital, although she escaped before this could happen.57 She tried to take a civil action against him but since such lawsuits were not allowed until the passing of the Married Women’s Property

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Steinitz in London

Act of 1882, she submitted her articles to the Figaro. She also tried to campaign through public lectures. Further articles appeared in number 988 (11 December, page 5), number 992 (25 December, pages 3–4), and the series continued in the next volume. The last installment to appear was on Wednesday, 19 February (No. 1008), still saying “to be continued,” but a writ had been served and no more articles appeared. The 22 January installment was probably the one that provoked the action. Weldon alleged in that article that her husband wanted her committed so he could sell the marital home, keep the allowance he paid her, obtain a divorce and marry the daughter of Sir Henry Percival De Bathe, governor of St. Luke’s Hospital for the Insane. In the article she claimed that four well-to-do physicians “combined to aid and abet Mr. Weldon and Sir Henry de Bathe in their plan to get rid of me.”58 Readers wishing to know more about Weldon, a famous serial litigant, have many places to look, some more reliable than others.59 There were several mentions of her in the Circular Notes column of the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News, which had even put her picture on its cover the previous year. On 5 July 1879 the writer said, “When Mrs. Weldon reflects that it is Mr. Mortimer who has to go up for judgment for publishing her libelous letters, and not her for writing them, she may well congratulate herself upon her undeserved luck….” Here, though, one is concerned about what happened to the London Figaro. On 26 March 1879, on pages 8–9, Mortimer wrote a leading article “The prosecution of the Figaro,” which detailed the preliminary proceedings. When the case came to court as The Queen v. Mortimer (since it was considered a criminal libel, not a civil case), Mortimer claimed he did not see the offending article himself. Since there were several installments, this is somewhat disingenuous. An editor is responsible for everything he publishes.60 Eventually, on 24 November 1879, Mortimer was sentenced to three months’ imprisonment, and a fine of £100. He was immediately taken to Holloway, which was not exclusively a women’s prison until 1903. This is where the usual accounts go wrong; the Figaro did not close. Mortimer managed somehow to keep the paper going without interruption and even was able to include articles that he wrote from jail. On page 8 of the 3 January 1879 number, and in subsequent weeks, a panel said: TO THE READERS OF THE FIGARO. We have very great pleasure in announcing the publication of a series of signed articles by popular writers, who have volunteered to contribute to the FIGARO, until the expiration of Mr. J. Mortimer’s imprisonment. In to-day’s FIGARO appears an article by MR. CHARLES DICKENS.

The article by Dickens was about Christmas and appeared on page 5. Nine other writers whose names are not so well known today were listed in the next paragraph and other writers were added to the list later. On page 9 an appeal fund

Mrs. Georgina Weldon, from the cover of the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News on 2 November 1878.

was launched to pay his costs and fine. “We should not have solicited such a mark of sympathy, but we gratefully accept it,” wrote Mortimer. Over £100 in donations came in from over 50 donors (the largest £25 being from a business) including several theatrical names but no well-known chess names were in the list. Further lists appeared on 17 January (page 9) and also on 21 January (page 8). An editorial on Wednesday, 28 January said that two applications to the home secretary for the remission of Mortimer’s prison term had been rejected. “One of these petitions was presented in December last, about three weeks after Mr. Mortimer’s committal to Holloway Prison,” It was signed by several thousand respectable names and endorsed by some MPs but the Home Office reply was that Mr. Cross “saw no reason to interfere.” A second petition was presented on New Year’s Day 1879, on the grounds that Mortimer’s health was suffering seriously from imprisonment. This was signed exclusively by journalists, editors and proprietors of newspapers (over 500 of them), without distinction of politics and supported by a medical certificate from the surgeon of Holloway Prison, but this was also rejected. “It is safe to say that never before was such a tribute paid to the character and honor [sic] of a man in the painful position of the Editor of the FIGARO.” Weldon even made a sworn statement that she never paid Mortimer money and never met him until several weeks after the publication of her articles. Eventually, the home

10. Absent from the Board, 1877–1881 secretary did order the release of Mortimer 11 days early, on Thursday, 12th February. The Figaro published a review of the case on 21 February in which Mortimer said that on 5 October 1878 an article on the private lunatic asylum system had appeared in the London Figaro. That was written by a member of staff, not by direction or after consultation with Mortimer. It was an appropriate comment because the government had announced a review of lunacy laws in the Queen’s Speech (at the last opening of Parliament). Subsequently Weldon’s articles were contributed and in one of them occurred the passage which a jury found to be libellous “and which was certainly of such a character that it would have been excluded if seen by the Editor, or if the sub-editor had not been negligent.” Mortimer admitted he was unwise to conduct his own defense without legal representation. Throughout all this, Steinitz’s chess column continued and ran until April 1882.

1880: German Visit and Breach with Bird In 1880 Steinitz continued to be largely occupied with conducting his columns. In The Field on 6 March and the Figaro on 10 March, he mourned the death (on 25 February) of that popular figure in the London chess world, “Old Lowe.” They shared a birthplace, but Edward Löwe had been born in Prague in 1794 and came to England “about fifty years ago.” In 1847 Staunton started a match against him at odds and discontinued it when he was losing. Lowe was the proprietor of the Imperial Hotel at 14 Surrey Street, just off the Strand and a short walk to the Divan. At his hotel (as Steinitz said in the Figaro) “the most famous chess masters, like Morphy, Anderssen, Kolisch, Harrwitz, Paulsen and others, generally took up their quarters during their stay in this country.” Steinitz said Lowe opened the hotel in 1851 but it was certainly somewhat earlier; Captain Evans is on record as having stayed at that address in 1849.61 Steinitz added, “By able management he contrived to become a prosperous man in his old age, and we understand he left a considerable fortune.”62 One way in which Steinitz supplemented his literary income over the years was undoubtedly private tuition. It has already been mentioned that Burn was a pupil around 1870. In an article he wrote on the occasion of the death of humanist campaigner Charles Bradlaugh MP, Steinitz revealed that he had long known Bradlaugh, and that he also gave chess lessons to Lord Randolph Churchill MP several times during 1880.63 Churchill was surprised to learn Steinitz’s good opinion of Bradlaugh. “I have known him for eighteen years, and he has always behaved like a gentleman.” Steinitz did not say Bradlaugh was a pupil but they sometimes played: “Mr. Bradlaugh belonged to the class of strong amateurs,

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with whom no expert could afford to trifle. He never took odds, for he could hold his own on even terms and occasionally win in light skittle games against masters, including myself.” Steinitz’s chess sessions with Churchill sometimes continued up to lunchtime, when they only talked on “general topics,” never politics. On these occasions Steinitz also met Mrs. Jennie Churchill (Winston’s mother). He had first met the Conservative politician when the latter was an Oxford undergraduate, and later at the St. George’s Club. In 1880 Churchill’s doctor had “ordered him to try to amuse himself as much as possible outside of business,” and for this he found chess the most suitable recreation. Steinitz recalled: [He] invited me to his mansion in St. James’s Square for the purpose of giving him theoretical instructions about Chess openings, which could not conveniently be done at our club. Usually our sittings began at 10 a.m. and lasted for some hours. Lord Churchill seemed to enjoy the game very much.

On 11 March 1880 Steinitz officiated yet again as umpire for the eighth university match, once more hosted by the St. George’s. On the question of adjudicating unfinished games, which was being debated at the time in the chess column of Design and Work, Steinitz sent in a letter (written on 29 February) to the chess editor, W. R. Bland, about the rules which had been laid down for adjudicating at these matches. These had presumably agreed between him and the two clubs in the past. To summarize: On the first two boards, a winning superiority must be shown within six moves assuming best play on both sides. On the other boards the widest discretion is left to me, and I only take the chances of error into consideration where there is no material advantage, and winning could only be effected by difficult calculations…. Assuming the players even, the chances of blunder are, according to my experience, more preponderant on the side which is weaker in force, and has, therefore, more defensive difficulties to contend with. The latter has no reasonable complaint if the chances of error are declared equal.64

Starting on 3 May, Steinitz was referee for the match between Zukertort and Rosenthal, played at the St. George’s Club, which after more than seven weeks was won by the former 7–1 with 11 draws.65 In Steinitz’s opinion, Rosenthal failed because he lacked staying power either for long games or a long match, and he went downhill after blundering a piece in the 12th game. Zukertort, he added, also had a marked superiority in the endgame phase. The last game was played on 25 June. At an early stage of the event, on 8 May at the City club, there were as usual many eminent spectators at Blackburne’s blindfold exhibition against the champions of various London clubs. Design and Work said that “Steinitz, Rosenthal, and Hoffer were … carrying on a conversation in French, by no means in a subdued tone.”66 While the contest was still in progress, the St. George’s hosted a dinner in honor of Rosenthal and Camille Morel (who was visiting from Paris) at the Criterion, on Thursday,

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10 June. As always on such grand occasions in Victorian chess, there were many speeches and toasts, starting with the chairman, Dartrey, proposing the Royal Family, with whom he was personally well acquainted. This was followed by toasts to President Grévy of France, a well-known chess lover, and M. Morel, who responded in French. Lindsay proposed the health of Rosenthal, who had been elected an honorary member of the club, and Rosenthal responded in English. Churchill proposed the health of Zukertort, who briefly responded. Then Frederic Hyman Lewis (1834–1889) made an amusing speech before proposing the health of “The Chess Masters” coupled with the name of the Figaro chess editor.

Once the match was over, Steinitz seized the opportunity to take a working holiday in Germany, the excuse being to report on the Wiesbaden and Brunswick (Braunschweig) tournaments which were scheduled in quick succession. Wiesbaden, in which Blackburne tied for first prize, began on 4 July. This was the second master tournament abroad which Steinitz attended only as a reporter. The field included nearly all the other active elite, with the exception of Rosenthal and Zukertort, who had only recently completed their marathon match in London, and of Mackenzie who was not in Europe that summer. Zukertort also arrived during the course of the event. After Wiesbaden was over, Blackburne, Mason, Steinitz, Zukertort and several others took the river steamer from Bibrich to Cologne, where they visited the Herr Steinitz, in returning thanks, replied to some questions put by local chess club.68 The lesser Brunswick tournament, printhe proposer of the toast in reference to the necessary mental qualcipally for amateurs, was due to start a few days later but ifications for becoming proficient in the game. Without being able some of the Wiesbaden field also hoped to participate. Bird, to enter into an abstruse scientific enquiry, he could only say that chess was a training for strict honesty, for trickery and deception however, botched his communications with the organizers were antagonists to the science, and the best players were those who and when he eventually arrived late, he was not allowed to tried to arrive at true conclusions in reference to the nature of the play. He blamed a cabal for excluding him and disliked what game.67 The Chess-Monthly said about the matter. An acrimonious correspondence followed in the British press.69 Bird—as Renette, has shown in some detail—consequently became disillusioned with chess for a time and absented himself from his normal London haunts. He went so far as to publish, towards the end of 1880, a four-page pamphlet entitled A Slight Chess Retrospect and Explanation which Renette included as an appendix in his book.70 Bird announced his retirement from play (which was not permanent) and strongly expressed his views on what he called “the depressed condition of chess and the lack of chess chivalry in the present day” which “real lovers of the game deplore.” Foreign professionals especially came in for criticism, especially Steinitz’s review of “poor Wormald’s book.” Bird’s circular was poorly received, especially among the “little inner circle of foreign supporters” and “a few of the regular Divan frequenters,” as he complained in a letter to the chess editor of the Glasgow Weekly Herald who had been consistently sympathetic to him over the Brunswick affair. Bird said that “C. … a very fine man” (Cubison?) “has written fiercely attacking me.”71 Another unidentified correspondent “whom I have known for upwards of 30 years” (so not Steinitz) “has written to me Zukertort and Steinitz, photographed by A. Sternitzky of Braunschweig, so probably a posed picture taken there in 1880 when both masters visited at the to the effect that the foreigners have more to start of the Brunswick chess tournament. (Cleveland Public Library Digital complain of than British amateurs…. Another Gallery.) has written briefly but very friendly that my

10. Absent from the Board, 1877–1881 remonstrance will do me much harm.” The honorary secretary of the St. George’s Club (J. I. Minchin) promised to bring Bird’s circular to the notice of their members. In an evident reference to Ranken, Bird said “The well-known editor of a leading journal continues reserved, but I have reason to believe that some of the remarks in my circular, coupled with a letter disclosing other facts, have formed the subject of some thought and consideration on his mind.” The general impression from Bird’s rantings is that Steinitz did after all have some supporters among the English chess circles and some were unafraid to tell Bird so.

Casual Games, 1880 Steinitz remained aloof from competition for the fourth year in succession, with almost no examples surviving of whatever casual play he did indulge in. He only published one of his own games in 1880.

491. E. Anthony–Steinitz Casual game, St. George’s Chess Club, February 1880 Giuoco Piano (C50) Bachmann (game 399 in volume 2, pages 8–9); from The Field, 14 February 1880. Of his third move, Steinitz commented: “Unsound; but it requires to be well up in the opening to defeat it….”

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25. d6 f6 26. Qh4 N×b5 27. d7 Rg8 28. a4 B×g2 29. a×b5 B×c6† 30. Kf1 B×b5† 31. Re2 f3 32. Raa2 f×e2† 33. R×e2 Rad8 34. Qb4 B×e2† 35. K×e2 R×d7 36. h4 Bd4 37. h5 f5 38. h6 f4 39. Kf3 Re8 40. Ke2 f3† 41. Ke1 e2 … “and Black mated after a few more moves” (0–1).

493. Steinitz–Hirsch London 1880? Vienna Game (C25) Not in Bachmann, but annotated in C.P.C., V (1881), 15 February 1881, page 76: “A very well contested game between Mr. Steinitz and Mr. Hirsch, one of our most promising young amateurs.” Probably the opponent was Alfred J. Hirsch for whom games are known in the 1880s.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nc6 5. Bb5 Bd7 6. d3 Nf6 7. f5 a6 8. Ba4 b5 9. Bb3 Ng4 10. B×f7† Kf8 11. Ng5 Bf2† 12. Kf1 h5 13. Bd5 Nd4 14. B×a8 Be3 15. Nd5 B×g5 16. B×g5 Q×g5 17. h4 Ne3† 18. N×e3 Q×e3 19. Rh3 Qf4† 20.  Kg1 g6 21.  c3 g×f5 22.  c×d4 f×e4 23.  B×e4 B×h3 24. g×h3 Rg8† 25. Bg2 Q×d4† 26. Kh1 Q×b2 27. Qf3† Ke7 28. Rf1 Q×a2 29. Qf6† Kd7 30. Qf5† Kd8 31. Bc6 “and wins” (1–0).

Alternation game, West-End Chess Club, London, 6 March 1880 King’s Gambit (C33) The Chess-Monthly, I (April 1880), page 239, called this a “rotation game,” in other words, what was called an alternation game when there were only two a side. It was played on 6 March 1880 after the dinner of the West-End Club at Monico’s. Steinitz, Hirschfeld and Mason versus Zukertort, Bird and Hoffer, not consulting but playing alternate moves in order stated. Steinitz played White’s moves 1, 4, 7, 10 etc. This is his last known game involving Hirschfeld.

Steinitz spent some of December 1880 in Scotland, but his date of arrival is unknown. The column in the Glasgow Weekly Herald of 25 December said Steinitz had left for London on the night train of 23/24 December, but its 1 January article corrected this: “Herr Steinitz did not leave Glasgow until Monday night,” which was 27 December. So yet again Flora did not see him at Christmas. Apparently Steinitz was not playing much chess, that same article saying that “during his short stay he was a daily visitor at the Glasgow Chess Club, but only on one occasion did he draw his sword, possibly because he felt doubtful of meeting a foeman worthy of his steel.” That game is below. The main purpose of his Scottish sojourn was, apparently, an attempt, presumably unsuccessful, to cash in on an unwise investment in marine technology. Early in 1881 Fraser wrote to John G. White that “Steinitz was down at Glasgow recently with a new invention called the Icthys propeller, by which he expects to make £10,000!” He said it was invented by a man in South Africa who left it to Steinitz to do anything he likes with it; patent letters had been taken out. Fraser wrote that he was to get a model of it “but if the Glasgow folks don’t adopt it the Dundee [ship] Builders are not likely to do so.”72 Mavor, in his aforementioned book, also referred to this incident and also gave his general assessment of Steinitz:

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. d4 d5 4. e×d5 Qh4† 5. Ke2 Bd6 6. c4 c5 7. Nf3 Bg4 8. Nc3 Na6 9. Ne4 Qe7 10. Kf2 Q×e4 11. Bd3 B×f3 12. Qa4† Kf8 13. B×e4 B×e4 14. Re1 Nf6 15. Bd2 g5 16. b4 c×d4 17. c5 Be5 18. Qa3 Ng4† 19. Kg1 Ne3 20. B×e3 d×e3 21. b5 Nc7 22. c6† Kg7 23. Qe7 Rhe8 24. Q×g5† Kh8

Steinitz was undoubtedly the greatest chess master of his time, and perhaps of any time. He did not distinguish himself beyond the field of chess, but he had other interests. He had either invented or somehow become involved in an invention in marine engineering. This invention consisted in some alleged improvement in the screwpropeller. I got him some information that he wanted from some of

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 f5 4. d3 Nf6 5. Nc3 Bb4 6. 0–0 d6 7. Ng5 Qe7 8. Nd5 N×d5 9. B×d5 f4 10. Qh5† g6 11. Qh6 Qf8 12. Bf7† Ke7 13. Qh4 h6 14. Nh7† g5 15. N×f8 g×h4 16. Ng6† K×f7 17. N×h8† Kg7 18. g3 Bh3 19. g×f4 K×h8 0–1. Bachmann has an additional move pair not in the source: 20. Rd1 Rg8†.

492. Steinitz, P. M. Hirschfeld and J. Mason– J. H. Zukertort, H. E. Bird and L. Hoffer

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my shipbuilding friends, but I do not think his project came to anything. Much more interesting were his philosophical views which he propounded on various occasions. Curiously enough, he regarded his achievements in chess with great modesty; but he really prided himself upon his powers as a philosopher. I cannot say, however, that there was anything original in his philosophy. So far as I could form a judgment, he was a Spinozist.73

494. Steinitz–R. Kennedy Knight odds game, Glasgow Chess Club, December 1880 Remove White’s queen’s knight Glasgow Weekly Herald, 1 January 1881; not in Bachmann.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 d5 3. e×d5 Q×d5 4. Nf3 Qe4† 5. Be2 Bc5 6. f×e5 Nc6 7. c3 N×e5 8. N×e5 Q×g2 9. Qa4† c6 10. Rf1 Nf6 11. d4 Bd6 12. Bf3 Q×h2 13. B×c6† Kf8 14. Bf4 Qh4† 15.  Kd2 B×e5 16.  d×e5 Nh5 17.  Bd5 Bf5 18.  Qb4† Qe7 19. Q×e7† K×e7 20. Bg5† f6 21. e×f6† g×f6 22. Rae1† Kd8 23. Bh4 Bg6 1–0. The paper said: “At this point Mr. Kennedy resigned. The game, however, might have ended in a draw.” Perhaps Kennedy had to leave. The final position does appear to be favorable to White who is well ahead in development. For example, Steinitz could equalize material by 24. B×f6† or retain the B pair and play 24. c4 followed by Kc3. Black has to activate his rooks and find safety for his king.

Dublin Visit, January 1881 Steinitz was in Hereford on the 3rd and 4th of January 1881, before crossing the Irish Sea for a brief visit to the Emerald Isle, the second and last time that he went there.74 In the London Figaro he reported that on his first evening in Hereford, he played four simultaneous blindfold games and next day 14 simultaneous games over the board: The exhibitions took place at the residence of the president of the Hereford Chess Club, Mr. Charles Anthony, with whom Mr. Steinitz was a guest during his stay; and the performer was fortunate enough to score every game played. The Hereford Chess Club is gradually gaining in numbers, and the society owes its success to the exertions of its president, who is most energetically assisted by the hon. secretary, Mr. Collins.

After Hereford, Steinitz probably returned to London for a few days, to avoid making a cross-country journey in deep winter. Steinitz arrived in Dublin on Wednesday, 12 January, so most likely he caught a train the previous afternoon to Holyhead in north-west Wales to connect with the overnight mail-boat. Most of Dublin’s strongest players turned out to meet him. Several Dublin papers reported his doings, but often inaccurately; some said he arrived on the Tuesday which is definitely wrong.75 It takes a little care to reconstruct what he did and who he played. Six games survive from Steinitz’s Irish visit; none of them are in the usual collections.

He had been invited by the City and County of Dublin Chess Club, which then met at 35 Molesworth Street, where they had hosted Zukertort two years previously. This club (later renamed the Dublin Chess Club) had been founded in 1867 following the break-up (due to loss of premises) of the former club which had organized the 1865 congress. Its papers show that, as with Zukertort’s visit, members were asked to donate money towards the expenses. There were 31 subscribers including Sir John Blunden, Dartrey (“gave two subscriptions”), Plunkett, R. Goodbody, W. H. S. Monck, Parker Dunscombe, and Edward Gerahty. The club engaged Steinitz for three days of play, which he summarized in his Figaro column on 26 January. … On the first day the performer contested three consultation boards simultaneously. The visitor was specially honored [sic] by the participation of the great mathematician, the Rev. Dr. Salmon, who, in consultation with Sir John Blunden and Mr. Hunt, drew a well-fought game. The other two games ended in favor [sic] of the single player. Next day Mr. Steinitz conducted, blindfolded, four boards, each being conducted by three opponents in consultation. The performer lost against the Rev. Dr. Salmon, who consulted with Messrs. Hunt and Tuthill; drew against the Brothers Roberts and Mr. Pim; and won the other two games. The third day was devoted to a simultaneous performance of sixteen games. The single player won eleven games, lost one to the Hon. H. C. Plunkett, and drew against master Roberts, the boy champion of Dublin, who is only fifteen years of age, and against Messrs. Murphy, Tuthill, and Captain Wallace.76

More details of each exhibition can now been provided, starting with the three simultaneous games Steinitz played on the Wednesday against consulting members of the club. On one board, he drew against the experienced team of Blunden, Hunt, and Salmon, but that game is not preserved. Blunden had learned some of his chess skills from Captain Evans in the 1830s.77 The Rev. Dr. George Salmon was later provost of Trinity College Dublin, but at this time he was a professor of divinity. In his youth, when he was a mathematician of some note, Salmon had been one of Ireland’s strongest chess-players; he once beat Harrwitz, playing level.78 The Chess Player’s Chronicle said this was Salmon’s first time playing chess in public since he lost to Morphy in the latter’s blindfold simultaneous at Birmingham, on 27 August 1858.79 A. A. Luce’s little history of the Dublin club shows both R. Fitzmaurice Hunt and R. M. Hunt were elected members before 1881; which of them met Steinitz is unknown. Steinitz won the other two games that day. The one against Captain Wallace and William Henry Stanley Monck is not extant,80 but that against Tuthill and the 16-year-old John Drew Roberts (who played against Steinitz on each day) was published.81 Roberts was born in Kingstown (now Dún Laoghaire) on 23 October 1864.82 Already a strong player as a young teenager, he was elected a member of the Dublin club on 4 October 1879. At this time he was a pupil at Sherborne School in Dorset, and afterwards an undergraduate at Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge. He then migrated to

10. Absent from the Board, 1877–1881 Oxford where he matriculated at Hertford College, on 22 October 1883, apparently for theological studies.83 After his ordination he gradually disappeared from chess records.84 His elder brother, the third player in a partnership on the Thursday against Steinitz, was almost certainly the W. R. Roberts who was elected a member of Dublin Chess Club on 3 April 1878 and later became a fellow and professor at Trinity College Dublin. Their father, Michael Roberts, was a professor of mathematics there.

495. J. D. Roberts and C. Tuthill–Steinitz Dublin Chess Club consultation, 12 January 1881 Two Knights Defense (C57) C.P.C., 25 January 1881, pages 38–39. C. Tuthill became a member of the club in 1874.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. Ng5 N×e4?! On this risky variation, compare the notes to Game 464. 5. B×f7† Ke7 6. d3 Nf6 7. Bb3 d5 8. f4 8. 0–0 has been preferred of late. 8. … Bg4 9. Qd2 h6 The old move; instead 9. … Kd7 was proposed by Zukertort in the City of London Chess Magazine.85 He mentions it as having been tried on him eight years before by Dr. Stosch, of Berlin, and he considers that it gives Black at least an even game. 9. … Kd7 is the only move analyzed in Steinitz’s book (1889); did he forget about Zukertort’s analysis when playing this game? 10. f×e5 h×g5 11. Q×g5 N×e5 12. Q×e5† Kd7 13. Nc3 Bd6 14. Qg5 Qe7† 15. Qe3 Qf8 16. Bd2 Re8 17. Ne4 N×e4 18. d×e4 R×e4 Originally 18. … R×h2 was the move published but this was corrected in C.P.C. on 1 February (page 57). 19. B×d5 Black mates in two moves starting 19. … Bg3† (0–1). On the second day of his visit, Steinitz played blindfold at the Molesworth Hall in Dublin. He met four opponents, but was less successful than in 1865, scoring +2 –1 =1. As in Zukertort’s first Dublin blindfold exhibition of 1879, A. S. Peake acted as teller.86 The Weekly Irish Times remarked that “although Steinitz could only play four boards, yet there were three strong players consulting at each, so that he had nearly as difficult a task before him” as Zukertort did in his 12-board exhibition.87 The Irish Times said the smaller number of games made the exhibition of a less tedious character than Zukertort’s had been, “while the play was of a higher type and more easily followed by spectators.” Steinitz took White on all boards and “all through his arduous performance the blindfold player conversed freely with those about him.”88 We shall take the exhibition board by board. Two of the four games are known. The sources number the games differently but that numbering does not seem to have had any special significance. On what the club records call board 1, Captain Wallace (not “Morres” as in the Irish Times), James C. Cairns,89 and George D. Soffe played the French Defense.90 Steinitz, as was normal at that time, answered with the Exchange Variation, but surprised his opponents with a novelty

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at move seven. “The performer adopted an entirely new manoeuvre in this dull opening, which for years has been trying the patience of imaginative players.”91 Steinitz duly won the game, which was published a few days later in the Chess Player’s Chronicle. Their notes are readily available so will not be reproduced.

496. Steinitz–J. C. Cairns, G. D. Soffe and Captain Wallace Dublin blindfold simul (1), 13 January 1881 French Defense (C01) C.P.C., 18 January 1881, pages 28–29; also Brentano’s Chess Monthly, issue 1, game 3. The report in the Dublin Daily Express of 14 January 1881 says this was the Board 2 game and names only Cairns and Soffe, but that report apparently confuses two different exhibitions and cannot be relied upon. Several sources name Monck as a third player but the Dublin Chess Club match books confirm what the The Field and The Irish Times said: the third player was Soffe, not Monck. Devidé page 46, stated the year wrong and did not say Steinitz played blindfold.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. e×d5 e×d5 4. Nf3 Nf6 5. Bd3 Bd6 6. 0–0 0–0 7. b3 Be6 8. Bb2 Nh5 9. g3 f5 10. Re1 Bd7 11. c4 c6 12. Ne5 Nf6 13. Nc3 Na6 14. Rc1 Bb4 15. Qf3 C.P.C.: “The first move in one of those original and brilliant combinations characteristic of Mr. Steinitz’s play.” 15. … Ne4 16. c×d5 c×d5 17. N×d5 B×e1 18. R×e1 Bc6 19. Nf4 Nc7 20. Bc4† Bd5 21. N×d5 N×d5 22. R×e4 f×e4 23. Q×e4 Qf6 24. B×d5† Kh8 25. f4 Qf5 26. Q×f5 R×f5 27. B×b7 Raf8 28. Be4 Rh5 29. d5 1–0 Steinitz played the Vienna Opening on boards 2 and 4 according to the Irish Times. On the second board, “the Messrs. Roberts were assisted by the counsels of Mr. J. B. Pim,” according to the Irish Times, while the Weekly Irish Times refers to “the Roberts sen. and jun.” Pim was a founder member of the Dublin Chess Club. Peake, writing in the Weekly Irish Times, gave the following description of this game: Board 2 was very skilfully defended, and never had the complicated appearance which the other boards presented. It soon became apparent that a draw was approaching, and by a judicious sacrifice of the exchange, which was regained in a move or two, the allies accepted the offer of a draw from Herr Steinitz.92

497. Steinitz–J. B. Pim, J. D. Roberts and (W. R.?) Roberts Dublin blindfold simul (2), 13 January 1881 Vienna Game (C29) Dublin Daily Express, Friday, 14 January 1881

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nc3 Nf6 3.  f4 d5 4.  d3 d×e4 5.  f×e5 Ng4 6. N×e4 N×e5 7. d4 Ng6 8. Nf3 Qe7 9. Kf2 Varying from an earlier Steinitz game 9. … c6 10. Bd3 Qc7 11. Re1 Be7 12. c4 0–0 13. Kg1 Nd7 14. Bc2 Nf6 15. Nf2 Be6 16. b3 Rad8

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Steinitz in London

17. Nd3 Bd6 18. Bg5 Bg4 19. h3 Bh2† 20. Kh1 B×f3 21. Q×f3 R×d4 22. B×f6 g×f6 23. Q×f6 R×d3 24. B×d3 Be5 “Declared drawn” at Steinitz’s proposal after about three hours’ play. (½–½) On the third board, Steinitz’s opponents were Captain Woollett, Monck, and Blunden.93 Steinitz played the King’s Bishop’s game, according to the Irish Times, “his opponents rejoining by the King’s Knights Defence,” presumably meaning 1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Nf6. Play lasted from 3 to 7 p.m. The moves are not preserved, but Peake reported that the Dubliners “were early at a disadvantage. They had castled on the Queen’s side, and Steinitz made such a skilful use of his pawns on the King’s side, that his opponents had to give up a piece, and shortly afterwards resigned.” The Mail stated that this game “survived until the call of time,” when the allies resigned, “having lost the exchange, and believing that the game would ultimately be lost.” On Board 4, the other Vienna Game, Salmon was partnered this time with Hunt and Tuthill.94 Steinitz stated that he blundered in an interesting position, where he had the attack for a pawn, and had to resign immediately. The Irish papers give a fuller account, but not the moves. According to Peake, “there was rather an interesting contest. Steinitz offered a piece in one of the phases, but it was unacceptable, and although the game was now much in favour of the blindfold player, the allies persevered, and in consequence of some misunderstanding as to the calling of the moves, Steinitz lost a Rook, and of course resigned.”95 The Dublin Evening Mail explained: “At about the 25th move, when the positions were very critical, it happened that a move in No 4 was announced to Herr Steinitz when he in his routine considered himself to be dealing with No 1, and hence he replied erroneously, and so lost the game.”96 On the final evening of his visit, Friday, 14 January, Steinitz played a normal simultaneous display, scoring +11 –1 =4. Three of the 16 games have been found. Here is part of the description of the event given in the Irish Times and Evening Mail next day. Steinitz apparently enjoyed the opportunity to play in his youthful combinational style. Yesterday in the Molesworth Hall this distinguished chess-player simultaneously contested sixteen games against as many amateurs, including some of the strongest players in Dublin, Two parallel rows of tables extended down the length of the hall, the representatives of Dublin chess sitting on the outside, and Herr Steinitz passing from board to board in the interspace…. Steinitz played with extreme rapidity at the outset…. In most cases he played in very aggressive fashion, throwing his forces in Napoleonic style against the enemy’s lines. The appearance of the majority of the boards soon gave evidence of the Austrian’s skill, his adversaries being reduced to holding themselves strictly on the defensive.

There is disappointingly little information about the games. One reporter left after four hours, when five players had resigned and Plunkett had won. The Field noted that “remark-

able amongst the losers was an old gentleman, Mr. Nolan, 85 years of age, who fought a hard game, and held out to the very last.” The only Irish newspaper to give the final result was the Dublin Daily Express the following Tuesday, although it named the sole winner as Hyacinth (instead of Horace) Plunkett. Steinitz and C.P.C. agree with the Express that he played 16 games with one loss and four draws.97 The Dublin Chess Club match book, however, has the following entry. Simultaneous Games 14 January 1881 against Herr Steinitz. Capt. Wallace Drawn; Mr. Hunt Lost; Mr. Tuthill Drawn; Mr. H. White Lost; Mr. R. Nolan Lost; Mr. Woollett Lost; Mr. Cudmore Lost; Hon. Plunkett Won; Mr. Roberts Lost; Mr. Roberts jun. Drawn; Mr. Monck Lost; Dr. Stack Lost.

This is incomplete as it mentions only 12 games. Presumably the reason for the discrepancy is that Steinitz’s other four opponents were not club members and the secretary did not see fit to record their details. The Field names the fourth player who drew as “Murphy,” and it is fair to assume that Peake also played as a reward for being teller the previous day, but the other two are unknown. One of the strongest players in Ireland around this time was Bernard W. Fisher, an Englishman who had obtained his degree from the University of Dublin, but he appears to have been away when Steinitz visited, otherwise he surely would have been involved in at least one of the three events.98 MacDonnell was unimpressed by Steinitz’s performance and published one of the draws. After detailing the results sent to him by the Dublin club secretary, he commented: “Truly a respectable performance for an ordinary first-class player, but by no means wonderful for a world-scepter-swaying champion may this be considered. I am glad to learn that the attendance was numerous and the interest apparent, and that the club was well satisfied with Mr. Steinitz’s visit.”99

498. Steinitz–J. D. Roberts Dublin simultaneous, 14 January 1881 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Notes by MacDonnell from I.S.D.N., XV (26 March 1881), page 38. White’s 21st and 22nd moves dissipated his advantage and by move 24 it had vanished.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 Qh4† 5. Ke2 b6 6. Nb5 Ba6 7. a4 0–0–0 The usual move is 7. … Qh5†. 8. Nf3 Qe7 9. Kf2 g5 10. c3 Prudent, considering the number of games he was conducting. Otherwise, his best course was 10. N×a7† N×a7 11. B×a6† Kb8 12. Re1 etc. 10. … Kb7 11. b4 Nh6 12. a5 Ng4† 13. Kg1 Q×e4 14. a×b6 B×b5 15. b×c7 K×c7 16. B×b5 Ra8 17. N×g5 Qf5 18. B×c6 d×c6 19. Ra5 c5 20. Qf3 Bd6 21. Ne4 Here Mr. Steinitz might have won, thus 21. R×c5† B×c5 22. B×f4† Kd7 23. Qb7†. 21. … Rhe8 22. b×c5 Q×e4 23. c×d6† Kb6 24. Ra2 Qe1† 25. Qf1 a5 26. Rb2† Kc6 27. B×f4 Re4 28. Bd2 Q×f1† 29. K×f1 K×d6 30. h3 Ne3† 31. Kf2 Nc4 32. Ra2 Rae8 33. Bc1 Kd5 “Here Mr. W. Steinitz

10. Absent from the Board, 1877–1881 proposed a draw and Mr. Drew Roberts—I mean Mr. Roberts Drew.” (½–½)

499. Steinitz–W. H. S. Monck Dublin simultaneous, 14 January 1881 Max Lange Attack (C50) From Our School Times (the magazine of Foyle College), 13 June 1881, with (truncated) notes by Monck. The score in the source was garbled but has been reconstructed by the present author. “P. to QB4” was printed as both Black’s 14th and 16th move but cannot have been move 14 because Steinitz would have replied B×b5†. In order for the subsequent score and notes to make sense, he must have played 14. … Qb6.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. 0–0 Nf6 5. d4 B×d4 “This is now considered the best way of taking the pawn.” 6. N×d4 N×d4 7. f4 d6 8. Nc3?! c6 9. Be3 b5 10. Bd3 Ng4 11. B×d4 “Herr Steinitz would have got a bad position by retaining his B and prefers giving up the exchange to abandoning the attack.” 11. … e×d4 12. Ne2 Ne3 “12. … Qh4 looks tempting, but White could reply 13. h3 and reply to 13. … Ne3 by 14. Qe1. Still, Black would have obtained an attack by the move which might have proved formidable.” 13. Qd2 N×f1 14. R×f1 Qb6 15. f5 f6 16. Qf4 c5 17. Qg4 c4 18. Q×g7 Rf8 19. Nf4 c×d3? “This move loses the game. Black would, I believe, have retained the advantage by 19. … Qb7 or; 19. … Bb7. The latter would probably lead to 20. Nd5 B×d5 21. e×d5 0–0–0 22. Be4 d3† 23. Kh1 Qe3 24. c×d3 c×d3 25. Bf3 (25. B×d3 saves White for if 25. … Q×d3 26. Rc1† Kb8 27. Qc7† Ka8 28. Qc6† with a draw by perpetual check, but Black has improvements earlier in the sequence.) 25. … d2, threatening 26. … Qe1 with a winning position. The present move leads to a very pretty finish. Black overlooked his opponent’s move 22.” 20. Nd5 Qb7 “20. … Rf7 returning the Rook to f8 if the Queen checks is better but would probably not save the game. He would at all events have enabled White to draw.” 21. Nc7† Kd8 22. Ne6† B×e6 “Hardly an oversight, for 22. … Ke8 loses the game equally, e.g., 23. Q×f8† Kd7 24. Qd8† Kc6 25. N×d4† Kc5 26. Nb3† and wins the Queen next move, unless 26. … Kb4 in which case White mates in two moves with the Queen.” 23. Q×b7 Rc8 24. f×e6 Rc7 25. Qb8† 1–0 Steinitz’s visit, like that of Zukertort, brought no lasting benefits to Dublin chess. It would be another two years before chess began to revive in Ireland and by 1885 there was a vigorous level of activity, with the founding of the Irish Chess Association and the Saint Patrick’s Chess Club. It was in connection with the latter that one more game from Steinitz’s visit came to light. The St Patrick’s Chess Club Pamphlet was a manuscript chess magazine of 1885 produced for members of the aforementioned club in Dublin. It was reissued in 1887 and can be seen in the John G. White Collection in the Cleveland Public Library. Included in it is the game below, Steinitz

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v J. Morphy, with the following introduction: “One of several simultaneous games played in Dublin in 1881 by the champion—Herr Steinitz. His youthful opponent is now one of the most promising players of The St Patricks Chess Club.”100 In the Dublin Daily Express of 18 January “Murphy” was named as one of those who drew, but now he had become Morphy.

500. Steinitz–J. Murphy (Morphy) Dublin simultaneous, 14 January 1881 King’s Gambit (C55) St. Patrick’s Chess Club Pamphlet (reissue), pages 50–51.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. 0–0 d6 6. d4 Nc6? 7. c3 h6 8. g3 g4 9. B×f4! g×f3 10. Q×f3 Qe7 11. Nd2 Bd7 12. b4? N×d4! 13. c×d4 B×d4† 14. Kh1 B×a1 15. R×a1 0–0–0 16. Rc1 Nf6 17. Be3 “Underrating the novice Steinitz found himself smashed up with surprising cleverness.” 17. … Ng4? 18. B×a7 Be6? 19. Be2 Ne5 20. Qc3 f6 21. Bb6 Rh7 22. Qa3 c6 23. Qa8† Kd7 24. Q×b7† Ke8 25. Bh5† Bf7 26. Q×e7† K×e7 27. B×d8† K×d8 28. B×f7 R×f7 “A faltering came however which reduced Black to a desperate plight.” 29. Nc4 Ra7 30. N×e5 f×e5 31. R×c6 Kd7 32. Rc2 Ra3 33. Re2 Ra4 34.  Rb2 Kc6 35.  Kg2 Kb5 36.  Kf3 h5 37.  h3 Ra3† 38. Kf2 h4! 39. g×h4 R×h3 40. Kg2 R×h4 41. Kf3 Rf4† 42. Ke3 Rh4 43. Rd2 Rh6 44. Rb2 Rh3† 45. Kd2 Rh2† 46. Kc3 R×b2 47. K×b2 K×b4 48. Kc2 Kc4 49. a3 “Black’s cleverness has again given him a winning advantage. By playing 49.  … Kd4 now he could have won….” 49.  … Kc5? 50. Kc3 d5 51. e×d5 K×d5 … And the game was drawn (½–½). Clearly Morphy was a surname of such special chess significance that John Murphy decided to adopt it. In 1888, he opened a “chess divan” in Dublin at 79 Grafton Street, with Mason in attendance as resident master for a few days.101 Morphy’s Divan stayed open until 1892, when the business failed.102 He immigrated to America in 1894, without benefit of a testimonial from local players, perhaps because he owed them money.103 Two games he played in the 1895/6 Brooklyn Chess Club championship are in ChessBase’s database, one of them a win against Showalter.

In London and Germany An important match was played between the City of London and St. George’s Chess Clubs on the evening of Thursday, 24 March, with 16 players aside and the strongest members of both clubs participating. It was played at a neutral venue—Willis’s Rooms, King Street, St. James’s—starting at 6 p.m. It was agreed in advance that play would end at midnight and no second game should commence after 9:30 p.m. A few single games lasted the whole sitting and the one left

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Steinitz in London

unfinished (Potter’s second game versus Owen) was played out two days later but Potter’s win did not count for the score. Boden was umpire but had no decisions to make. The large crowd of spectators included Dartrey, Hoffer, Horwitz. Strode, and Steinitz, who wrote a two-part report for The Field (26 March and 2 April) and also reported at some length on 30 March in the Figaro. The St. George’s won 12–9, with four draws, despite the City team’s including Blackburne, Gunsberg, MacDonnell, Mason and Potter. The strongest players on the St. George’s team were Zukertort (who beat Blackburne), Hirschfeld, Owen, and Wayte, but they mostly were defeated and it was on the level of the lesser amateur experts that the result turned. In previous inter-club matches, it was often the case that one captain called out the names of his team one by one, and the other captain then said which of his players would oppose them. On this occasion, the captains (Adamson for City and Minchin for the St. George’s) met in advance to arrange pairings privately by strength order, and then the team drawn by lot (City as it happened) would be seated in alphabetical order, their opponents taking the appropriate seat opposite.104 Steinitz said in the Figaro that the purpose of this was “soothing the susceptibilities of some of the combatants below the top rank.” The English census of 1881 was taken on the night of Sunday, 3 April. A curious detail is that Steinitz appears in it twice, with discrepancies concerning his age (which was off by two years) and marital status. As first pointed out in the “Quotes and Queries” column of British Chess Magazine in 2005, Steinitz appears as a “Boarder at the Pier Hotel, 10 Marine Parade, Brighton. Age 46. Journalist and author on chess. Unmarried. Born Austria Prague.”105 This entry was probably made by the hotel proprietor on a form where they were required to enter the details of all guests staying that night. So it can be taken as certain that this is where he was. At most Steinitz spent 10 days in Brighton. Before leaving London, he must have written his first report on the match for The Field and also the one for the following Wednesday’s The Figaro (since it does not include the outcome of the adjourned game). Yet he was certainly back in London by Wednesday, 6 April when he was, as usual, umpire at the Oxford versus Cambridge university match at the St. George’s Club. He was probably not that long away or he could have missed reporting on the action in the ongoing Blackburne–Gunsberg match. There is no mention in The Field of any chess event in Brighton that Steinitz may have been attending; perhaps he was just taking the sea air for the sake of his health. Steinitz’s better-known census entry, for which Caroline Golder was presumably responsible, placed “Wm. Steinitz” as a 44-year-old married journalist at 11 Newton Street, Shoreditch, Hoxton Old Town, London, along with “Caroline Steinitz,” aged 35, and their daughter “Flora Steinitz,” 14year-old scholar. So this is probably where Steinitz normally

resided at this time, although it is not known for certain. Nor can the census tell us how long they lived there but 11 Newton Street had also been the stated address of Flora Steinitz Golder at her baptism in 1879.106 There were several Newton Streets in London, but this one was in the same general area as Baldwyn Street, where Flora was born, but to the eastern rather than western side of the City Road. This Newton Street was renamed under an 1879 order of the Metropolitan Board of Works, though it appears that the renaming and renumbering was not carried out until an unknown date after the 1881 census. A Board of Works document on microfilm at the London Metropolitan Archives confirms the change: this old chart shows it running between Wenlock Street and Cavendish Street near where Evelyn Street joined Wenlock Street on the other side. 11 Newton Street became number 9 Sylvia Street North.107 Today the Victorian street pattern in the area has gone, and Sylvia Court is just the name of two late twentieth century blocks of Hackney Council apartments off the New North Road, to which Wenlock Street only extends as a footpath.108 There is little information about what Steinitz did in the summer of 1881 apart from writing his reports. On Saturday, 7 May a match was played in London over 12 boards between students from Cambridge University and the fourth class players of the City of London Club, but although Steinitz reported in both his columns he was possibly not there in person, in view of the breakdown of his relationship with the latter club. Blackburne acted as umpire. The match between Blackburne and Zukertort (played between 27 June and 29 July and won by the latter) was certainly a major event and Steinitz devoted much space to it in The Field. Towards the end of August he went to Germany to report on the Berlin tournament, played between 29 August and 17 September. Steinitz’s reports may be found in The Field for several weeks starting with the 3 September number. There were also three reports by him about it in the Figaro between 7 and 21 September, the latter reporting Blackburne’s victory. “His performance is a magnificent one, considering the unprecedented number and the strength of the competitors, and the manner of his victory belongs to the highest forms of chess skill on record.”109 In his letter to the December 1881 Chess-Monthly, Steinitz says that the September number of that magazine arrived “while I was in Berlin, where for a whole month I was in daily attendance at the Chess Congress, and overwhelmed with work in reference to the reports of the Tournament proceedings and the analysis of the games. Since my return I have been equally busy….”110 It is known that after the tournament Steinitz visited Cologne, where the following game was played, and he may have had other ports of call on his way home to London. Steinitz’s consulting opponents in this game were the celebrated problem composer Karl Kockel-

10. Absent from the Board, 1877–1881 korn and the master Carl Wemmers, who soon thereafter died. Steinitz introduced the game thus in The Field: On his return journey from Berlin, Mr. Steinitz was the guest of the chess club at Cologne for one day, the 21st. of September, and on the occasion conducted the following game blindfold against Messrs. Kockelkorn and Wemmers in consultation. The time was regulated by a limit of fifteen moves per hour on each side, and the game lasted four hours. We quote the moves and some of the notes from the Sonntagsblatt of Berlin.

501. Steinitz–K. Kockelkorn and C. Wemmers Blindfold game, Cologne Chess Club, 21 September 1881 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 405, game 403 in the second edition); The Field, 29 October 1881; T.C.M., III (October 1881), pages 77–78; D.S.Z., 1881, pages 332–333 (report) and 346–348 (annotated game); Devidé, page 47. A few of Steinitz’s notes are included.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d5 4. f×e5 N×e4 5. Nf3 Nc6 6. Bb5 Be7 7. 0–0 0–0 8. Qe1 f5 9. d3 N×c3 10. b×c3 Be6 11. d4 Na5 12. Qg3 c6 13. Ng5 Qd7 14. Bd3 b5 15. a4 a6 16.  N×e6 Q×e6 17.  Qh3 g6 18.  Bh6 Rf7 19.  a×b5 a×b5 20. Qg3 Bf8 21. Bg5 Bg7 22. h4 h5 23. Bd2 Raa7 “The Sonntagsblatt states that the allies had overlooked the effect of White’s next move, or else they would have played 23. … Kh7 to be enabled against the entrance of 24. Qg5 to oppose 24. … Qe7. We believe that White would have retained the superiority of position even in that case, and the performer might have exchanged 25. Q×e7 with the best of the game, on account of the open a-file and the passed pawn at e5.” 24. Qg5 Nc4 25. R×a7 R×a7 26. Bc1 Rf7 27. g4 h×g4 28. h5 g×h5 29. B×f5 Qe7 30. Q×h5 B×e5 31. d×e5 “Sonntagsblatt points out that the blindfold player might have here won quicker by 31. Qg6† for if Rook or Bishop interposed, then followed 32. Be6†; or, if King moved to 31. … Kf8 or 31. … Kh8, White would continue accordingly with 32. Bh6† or 32.  Qh6†, winning speedily.” 31.  … N×e5 32.  Bg5 Qc5† 33. Kh1 Qc4 34. Rf4 Q×c3 35. Bh6 Qa5 36. R×g4† “Sonntagsblatt rightly remarks that the mate could be effected here in five moves by force, thus: 36. Qg5† Kh8 (or 36. … Ng6 37. Q×g6† Kh8 38. Bg7† R×g7 39. Qh6† etc.) 37. Bg7† Kg8 (if 37. … R×g7 38. Qh5† Kg8 39. Qe8 mate) 38. Bh7† K×h7 39. Qh6† etc.” 36. … N×g4 37. Q×g4† Kh8 38. Bg7† Kg8 39. Bc3† 1–0 The only other known game by Steinitz from around this time is the following. Isidor Gunsberg probably penned the introductory paragraph explaining the circumstances under which it was played: A few days ago Mr. Steinitz was accosted by a stranger, at the Divan, in our presence, and was requested by the incognito to have a game of Chess, to which Mr. Steinitz assented. The stranger made exorbitant demands for odds, which resulted in Mr. Steinitz yielding to him the Queen’s Rook and also the King’s Bishop’s Pawn. As it turned out,

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the stranger was far too sturdy a player for these odds. Nevertheless Mr. Steinitz, without resorting to brilliant play of the usual kind of odds, won four games out of five at these odds, playing quickly but steadily. We have much pleasure in giving one of the games, by which it can be seen that the amateur played a very fair game.

502. Steinitz–Amateur Rook and pawn odds game, Simpson’s Divan, October 1881 Remove White’s queen’s rook and f2 pawn Bachmann (game 967); annotated in C.P.C. 18 October 1881, pages 499–500. Bachmann found the game too late for inclusion in volume two of his first edition, so he reprinted it in an appendix at the back of volume 4.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bc4 d6 5. 0–0 Be6 6. Bb5 a6 7. Ba4 b5 8. Bb3 B×b3 9. a×b3 Nd4 “At this point a connoisseur made the remark that the amateur was playing better than Steinitz.” 10. N×d4 e×d4 11. Ne2 c5 12. d3 Be7 13. h3 0–0 14. Ng3 h6 15. Nf5 Qc7 16. Qe1 Nh5 17. Qe2 g6 18. B×h6 Kh7 19. Bc1 Rg8 20. Qg4 Bf6 21. Nh6 Rg7 22. Qf3 “Mr. Steinitz, in his systematic manner, has arrived at a very interesting position; his move Q to B3 was exceedingly fine and he is now master of the situation.” 22. … Qe7 23. e5 Bg5 24. e×d6!? “This was unexpected.” 24. … Qf6?? “The amateur gives way now.” 24. … Be3†, as C.P.C. indicated, should win for Black. 25. Q×a8 Qd8 26. Q×d8 B×d8 27. N×f7 Ng3 28. N×d8 Ne2† 29. Kh2 N×c1 30. Ne6 Rd7 31. Nf8† 1–0 Meanwhile Neumann, Steinitz’s old rival from the mid– 1860s, had died on 16 February but news only reached the chess world months later. Steinitz said he learned of it from the Berlin Sonntagsblatt. He wrote obituary notices in both The Field of 30 July, where he described Neumann as “one of the greatest players of our time” and afterwards, having had more time to reflect, in the Figaro of 10 August. There he mentioned Neumann’s victory at Dundee and other successes and praised his literary work. Then Steinitz wrote “We have to record with deep emotion that the unfortunate master succumbed, at about the age of 45, to a terribly nervous disorder of which most distressing symptoms had shown themselves twice during his chess career, but from which he apparently recovered, until his final confinement became necessary about eight years ago.” In the Figaro of 14 December (page 13) Steinitz explained why a proposed cable match between London and Philadelphia (for which a challenge had come from America on 4 June) was unlikely to happen.111 He said that the proposal to play for a money stake came not from the professionals (who are made the scapegoats) but “in accordance with precedents, emanated from a committee of noblemen and gentlemen, in which the ‘professionals’ had no vote.” In the following he alluded to his old enemy Duffy again: … Secondly, we have reason to believe that if the match had come off, the same arrangement would have been adopted as in the match between the City of London Chess Club and Vienna, viz., that the

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Steinitz in London

subscribers to the stakes, which most probably would have also included the chief conductors of the contest (as in the London and Vienna match), would have had their little money sport in the matter by taking half of the winnings in the event of victory, while the other half would have nominally belonged to the club, which, after deducting the expenses, might have divided the rest, if any, between the lead-

ers of the consultation. Perhaps speculative chess editorial amateur accountants in this country and America, who have exercised themselves so much about the question of remuneration to the “professionals,” would require to know whether the latter would have paid their washing bills or their tailors’ accounts out of the eventual residue.

11. A Champion Returns— and Departs, 1882 This chapter deals with a paradox: 1882 was one of the most successful in Steinitz’s chess career, but also the most disastrous in his life until the late 1890s. The huge positive was his successful return to competition. By winning the great Vienna 1882 tournament (albeit only in a tie for first place) Steinitz reasserted his claim to be the world’s strongest player, which had been unquestioned in the mid–1870s but had increasingly come to be doubted due to his long period of inactivity. After this victory, he enjoyed a successful tour of America lasting several months. On the other hand, 1882 was an extremely negative year both from the point of his relations with several leading masters and the amount of criticism he received from certain quarters in the press. Financially 1882 also marked a serious downturn in Steinitz’s long-term prospects, because he lost both his chess columns and thereby his regular source of income. The closure of the first column (the London Figaro) was almost certainly not his fault in any way, but the loss of the much more important column in The Field a few months later was the result of what can only be called a series of self-destructive misjudgments. In the short run, the financial loss may have been balanced by the prize money he won and the earnings from his U.S. tour, but in the long run it meant that his 20 year residence in London was bound to come to an end.

The Early Months Early in the year, as a bad omen, two British amateurs died on the same day, 13 January. Frank Burden, who had been one of Steinitz’s first opponents in England in 1862, passed unnoticed by him, perhaps because Burden had been inactive in chess for many years. Samuel Standidge Boden, however, had been one of Steinitz’s predecessors at The Field and was held in high esteem among English amateurs, although there are no games on record between him and Steinitz. Boden’s funeral was held on 17 January 1882 at Woking Cemetery, with MacDonnell officiating. Steinitz attended, along with

Blackburne, Hoffer, Mason, and Zukertort, and he noticed Boden’s passing in both his columns, although probably not in a way that Boden’s friends would have greatly appreciated. In The Field on 21 January, Steinitz said that Boden could have become “one of the chief masters of the age if he had developed his great genius in hard public play.” Instead he had “squandered his fine talents in skittles games” and seemed to have an aversion to serious tournaments in which he might have done well, especially in “modern all-round tourneys” rather than what Steinitz calls the “old, and justly superseded, modus of drawing the opponents by lot, the losers up to the final round being thrown out altogether.” His briefer obituary in the London Figaro on 25 January said Boden was a “highly ingenious player whose published games show all the real characteristics of a first-class master.” Unfortunately, he said, Boden played no set match with any great master, and played no tournaments after losing the final to Paulsen at the 1861 B.C.A. tournament in Bristol, which was one of those held on the old system. Of painting, probably Boden’s greater interest in his later years, Steinitz said nothing and was perhaps ignorant. During the first two months of 1882, Steinitz was probably mulling over the possibility of returning to the chequered battleground, but certainly said nothing in public about his intentions. A lot of his time and energy was involved in fighting what chess historian Ken Whyld called the “ink war,” fought against Hoffer and Zukertort in the pages of The Chess-Monthly, the Chess Player’s Chronicle and Steinitz’s own column in The Figaro. This author considers the term “ink war” to more properly be applied to the battle between Steinitz and Duffy in 1877, described earlier, or to the slanging match between Hoffer and Steinitz later in the 1880s when the editors of the International Chess Magazine and The Chess-Monthly stooped to disgraceful insults. There is no need to review the extensive discussion of the latter in Landsberger’s books about Steinitz, or to give an opinion on whether Steinitz was more sinned against than sinning.

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Steinitz in London

The inky combat began with Steinitz’s letter to The ChessMonthly which occupied more than six pages at the start of its December 1881 issue.1 It concerned the Zukertort–Blackburne match of the previous summer, which Steinitz had reported in The Field, and criticisms of his analysis which subsequently had appeared in Zukertort and Hoffer’s magazine. Steinitz’s letter was long because it chiefly consisted of specific points of detail concerning turning points in several games of that match, where one would expect Zukertort (who after all had won it) to be fairly sure of his ground. Of this article, Whyld commented: “The initial letter from Steinitz was courteous, and he clearly expected a discussion by Zukertort of the analytical points he had raised. Instead he was shocked to have a sneering response bearing the hall-marks of Hoffer’s pen.”2 That reply in the January 1882 issue of The Chess-Monthly extended to 14 pages.3 There is certainly no point in debating the rights and wrongs of their respective analyses now that computers have found so many holes in nearly all nineteenth century (and, for that matter, twentieth century) annotations to games. The editors of The Chess-Monthly concluded the analytical section of their reply by saying that they admitted error in one case, claimed they were right in ten, and said the new analysis from Steinitz contained more errors than his original notes in The Field. There followed some lines in smaller print of a more personal nature, which included this sentence: “We cannot, therefore, join the proposed mutual admiration society, in which a Chess Editor would stand, like a Stylites of old, on his column sacrosanct, and calling anathema at the slightest sign of doubt in his infallibility.” It is hard to know when the relationship between Steinitz and the Hungarian-born Hoffer deteriorated. They first met at Paris in 1867, where Hoffer was on the organizing team. When Hoffer came to London as a war refugee in 1870, penniless and knowing little English, Steinitz is said by Hooper and Whyld to have helped him find his feet in London. Their Oxford Companion added: “Moved more by social snobbery than gratitude Hoffer later became a bitter enemy of Steinitz, and their verbal warfare makes astonishing reading in a more restrained age.”4 MacDonnell wrote enigmatically that: “For a time he was one of Mr. Steinitz’s lieutenants, but as that gentleman’s yoke galled him he threw it off and formed a principality of his own.”5 Steinitz, as soon as he saw the January 1882 Chess-Monthly, went looking for mistakes in analysis and finally thought he had found one, in the discussion of the second diagram on page 144 (concerning the 12th match game). When he demonstrated it at the Divan one afternoon Hirschfeld was there and countered with analysis of his own, but Steinitz was careful to keep Hirschfeld out of the row.6 He referred the question to Gunsberg who was then games editor of the Chronicle; his article appeared in the 11 January number under the heading “An Analytical Nightmare.”7 Much of the debate was

carried on in that magazine, partly because since 1881 it had been under new management and was published weekly, which meant that exchanges of fire could be more frequent. Little was said in The Field except brief factual statements. To quote at any length from the multiple broadsides that were exchanged in early 1882 would fill too many pages with tedious rhetoric, but readers wishing to know more can find the original sources.8 Because what Steinitz said about this in his Figaro column is less easily accessible than the others, we shall quote some extracts from that source. The main significance of these early jousts in the “ink war” is that, firstly, they probably made up Steinitz’s mind to play in Vienna, and secondly, that they instituted discussions about a match with Zukertort which would be renewed over and over again for three more years before their World Championship match finally took place. Since the January Chess-Monthly had spoken of “the joint responsibility of the Editors,” Steinitz responded by proposing to play a match against Hoffer and Zukertort, consulting, for the first to win 11 games. The implication appears to be that Steinitz considered Hoffer to be a weak player and his input would make Zukertort, the winner of the great 1878 Paris tournament, play much worse than if he were solo. The challenge was issued in The Field on 21 January and the Figaro a few days later said much the same, but at greater length: A PROPOSED CONSULTATION MATCH. In consequence of an analytical controversy which has been in progress for some time between the editor of this department and the editors of the “Chess Monthly,” and which is continued by Mr. Steinitz in the “Chessplayers Chronicle,” [sic] in an article entitled “Analytical Warfare,” Mr. Steinitz has challenged Messrs. Hoffer and Zukertort to play against him in consultation in a match for eleven games up, for a minimum stake of £100 and a maximum sum of £250. Mr. Steinitz offers, at the option of his opponents, either to give the odds of two games at starting, or to take the like odds, or to play level. The other conditions are that two games should be played each week, under a time limit of 15 moves per hour. The challenge is left open for one month.9

This challenge occasioned some amusement but was probably not taken seriously. Zukertort replied (according to The Field on the 28th) that he himself was willing to play a match with Steinitz under “any reasonable conditions,” but the latter observed that “the offer evidently amounts to a nonacceptance of the proposed consultation match.” How Steinitz had expected to fund a stake of £250 or even £100 for the consultation match is a mystery, but he probably set the bar high because a challenge for an amount such as £10 or £25 might have been accepted. He later claimed, in his article for 1 February, that by the time Zukertort’s refusal came in, “we had already received positive promises from kind supporters to the amount of nearly £200.” That statement in the Figaro of 1 February was part of a longer item about a possible match between Steinitz and

11. A Champion Returns—and Departs, 1882 Zukertort, where Steinitz referred readers to what The ChessMonthly was saying and his own answers in the Chronicle. The last part of Zukertort’s letter to him was, however, “too amusing to be withheld from our readers.” This read as follows: “Should you be eager to refurbish your chess reputation, which you have kept carefully out of harm’s way for many years past, we may meet at Vienna….” Steinitz’s response was that Zukertort had preferred to play a match with Rosenthal in 1880 and with Blackburne in 1881 “in order to keep our chess reputation out of harm’s way.” He joked that Blackburne had finished ahead of Zukertort on several occasions, including the 1876 Divan tournament in which Steinitz did not play “because he was dreadfully afraid of that wonderful Mr. Zukertort.” The discussions continued weekly in The Chess Player’s Chronicle. Some correspondence appeared in the 1 February issue including a letter from Steinitz where he attempted to prove that Zukertort was already engaged to play a match with him for the sum of £200 since 1878. The Figaro chess column on the 15th says that in the current Chess-Monthly, Hoffer and Zukertort had set out some reasons for declining the consultation match challenge. Steinitz observed: “In the first place it might have interfered with the participation in the Vienna tournament, perhaps of the famous—Herr Hoffer.” He did not have to spell out that Hoffer never risked his reputation in the prize-ring. Among other things, Steinitz said that some negotiations had begun for a match with Zukertort alone which were not to be given publicity. Indeed, some negotiations did continue between Steinitz and Zukertort, with seconds becoming involved. There was some hope that these talks taking place in private between Minchin for Zukertort and W. B. Woodgate for Steinitz might bring about a positive outcome, but the imminence of the Vienna tournament undoubtedly was an obstacle (if the parties were sincere) or offered a way out (if either of them was not). Steinitz was unable to keep silent on the matter in the press, which probably did not help. Eventually, MacDonnell wrote that Zukertort had been unfairly maligned in some quarters and people should read Minchin’s statement in the April number of The Chess-Monthly for an impartial statement of the facts.10 Minchin explained that he and Woodgate negotiated in good faith but it would have been difficult to complete a match by the end of April, at the rate of three games per week, a match in which nine wins would be required, especially with the large number of draws (which would not count) likely to occur between two such eminent players. Whereas Zukertort required the stakes “be made good” by 9 March, Steinitz said his business commitments would not enable him to start until 25 March (presumably because he would have to draft several chess columns in advance in order to concentrate on the match when it started). The sec-

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onds agreed that this would not leave enough time to conclude the match in April and Zukertort would not agree to any adjournment of the match for the Vienna tournament. Negotiations were finally broken off and it later became clear that there would be no match with Zukertort until 1883 at least. Announcing this in the London Figaro on 8 March, Steinitz wrote: The negotiations for this contest are broken off. Herr Zukertort made it an absolute condition that the match should commence on the 16th inst. which was equal to about a week’s notice, as it was proposed to sign articles on Thursday, the 2nd inst. We may only remark that the match between Messrs. Zukertort and Blackburne last summer was not begun till seven weeks after the challenge had been accepted. Herr Steinitz was willing to commence on the 25th inst., and then play three games per week, and four games during the last week of April. This would have enabled the parties to contest sixteen games before May 1st, when an adjournment till October next would have taken place, in accordance with one of Herr Zukertort’s conditions, which had been agreed to by Herr Steinitz, who also offered to reduce the number of games, deciding the match to eight. As another alternative, Herr Steinitz proposed that both sides should deposit a forfeit for a match to be fixed for next autumn. This was also refused by Herr Zukertort; and the matter requires no further comment.11

One thing gradually became clear during the talks. Steinitz was coming around to the idea that he would play in Vienna, and by the end of March he had announced this. MacDonnell commented on 1 April in the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News as follows. Lord Byron awoke one morning and, much to his surprise, found himself famous. Mr. Steinitz awoke one morning in the early part of last week and, much to his surprise, found himself no longer famous. The laurel crown that for six or nine long years he had fondly dreamt was enwreathed about his brows had gone, and on another’s head he saw it glittering…. Seriously speaking, Mr. Steinitz has publicly announced that he has entered his name in the list of intending competitors in the international tournament which will be opened next May at Vienna. There is no doubt that his presence as a warrior on that occasion will enhance the splendour of the meeting, and, better still, settle the question of championship for some time to come.

Meanwhile, on the 13th and 14th of March, Steinitz visited Hereford again, and gave two exhibitions, both held in Charles Anthony’s house. On the first evening he played four simultaneous blindfold games, against the strongest members of the local chess club. He defeated Messrs. Lee, Smith, and Williamson but lost to a Mr. Collins. On Tuesday the 14th he played 19 simultaneous games against 15 members of the Hereford club and four visitors from Newport, Monmouthshire, all of which he won. None of Steinitz’s games from this visit were preserved.12 The local paper said it was hoped that this would be an annual event but this did not come to pass because of Steinitz’s emigration. On 30 March 1882, for the tenth successive but final time, Steinitz officiated as umpire for the Oxford versus Cambridge university match, once more hosted by the St. George’s Club at its new rooms, 47 Albemarle Street. Steinitz said in the

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Steinitz in London

London Figaro of 5 April that he had adjudicated boards 4, 5, and 6. This was the last of his news reports in the Figaro. When the 1883 match was played, on 17 March, Steinitz was not in England and Zukertort did the honors. By the match of 3 April 1884 Steinitz had permanently left, and this time Bird officiated, while in 1885 it was Zukertort again.

503. Baltimore amateur–Steinitz Odds game, Simpson’s Divan, London, 1882 Remove Black’s f-pawn C.P.C., 22 November 1882, page 563, said to be taken from the Baltimore American.

Steinitz gave pawn and two moves to an unidentified American amateur at the Divan. No date was stated so this game may have been played either before or after the Vienna congress, but bear in mind that Steinitz left England on the 25th of October. 1. e4 AND 2. d4 e6 3. Nf3 d5 4. e×d5 e×d5 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bd3 Bd6 7. Bg5 0–0 8. 0–0 c5 9. c3 Nc6 10. N×c6 b×c6 11. d×c5 B×c5 12. b4 Bd6 13. c4?? Be5 14. Nc3? B×c3 15. Rb1 d×c4 16. B×c4† Kh8 17. Qb3 Be5 18. f4 Bd4† 19. Kh1 h6 20. Bh4 Bf5 21. Rbd1 Qb6 22. a3 Ne4 23. Be7 Rfe8 24. Bh4 Bf2 25. g3 Nd2 0–1 Once it was clear to Steinitz that he would be going to Vienna for a tournament that would be arduous both physically and mentally, and that these would be his first serious games in over six years, drastic preparation was necessary. MacDonnell, in Knights and Kings of Chess, gave some indication of how Steinitz would have gone about this, though saying nothing about any chessboard work, on openings and so on, that a modern grandmaster would undertake before a major event. Staunton thought some kind of training for a chess match to be highly desirable. But the regimen he recommended to others, and adopted himself, consisted merely of a glass of cold water early in the morning, and a walk of one or two hours just previous to engaging in a fight. He never dreamt of spending three or four weeks in the country, dieting himself according to rule during that period. No, it was Mr. Steinitz who first resolved to train for a match as an oarsman would for a boat race. Accordingly, never yet has the Austrian appeared in the arena save after a systematic course of training, and in the most perfect (for him) athletic condition. The mineral baths of Stockport [sic] and the ozone of some quiet watering place have contributed not a little to his successes; and when playing hard games in London he has seldom, if ever, omitted his long walk on fine days, and then a plunge in the icy waters of the Roman bath.13

Except that MacDonnell confused Stockport, close to Manchester but in Cheshire, with the Lancashire seaside resort of Southport, this is probably close to the mark. In The Steinitz Papers (page 26), Landsberger reproduced a short letter which Steinitz sent on 5 April from the Palace Hotel Hydropathic Establishment & Spa, Birkdale Park, Southport,

which must have been close to the Royal Birkdale golf course. Translated from the original German, the note said: Dear Sir. Your letter was forwarded to me here on my vacation. I regret that this time I am prevented from making your acquaintance but hope that I will soon have that pleasure since I shall be traveling to Vienna about the 20th. If I can be of any assistance please write to me at the Field office 346 Strand, London WC. Sincerely, W. Steinitz (in a great hurry.)

Shortly before he left England, Steinitz’s chess column in The London Figaro came to an abrupt end, for reasons which remain unclear but were probably due to the paper’s being sold.14 Mortimer’s successor as editor preferred to give the space to other matters. The chess column on 5 April appears to have been the last normal article and Saturday, 8 April was probably Mortimer’s last issue. Until then there was always text on the front page, but from the issue of Wednesday, April 12th, the front page was full of advertisements for concerts, opera, etc., and on Saturday 15th there was a special opera supplement. The “En Passant” column, whose title suggests Mortimer wrote it, moved to page 2. There was no chess on 12 April but perhaps no definite decision to cancel the chess had yet been taken. On 19 April, problem 891 appeared. There was no text but correspondents were still told to address Steinitz at the same St Bride’s address. Finally on 26 April the solutions to problems 890 and 891 were published along with two answers to correspondents. This was probably just tidying up because there was no line about sending correspondence to Steinitz or anyone else. While it may have been Steinitz’s choice that he could not conduct two columns while resuming active play, nothing was said. The new editor or proprietor (apparently a limited company) probably made the decision for him, Steinitz’s long imminent absence abroad making it easier for them.15 Publication of Figaro continued to the end of 1898. Meanwhile, Steinitz had no doubt made special arrangements with the editor of The Field to cover for him. Since he would be away (as it turned out) for more than three months, somebody would have to run the chess desk. Perhaps Steinitz prepared a set of problems for publication in his absence, but a chess expert would be needed to reply to correspondents, insert news items, and prepare Steinitz’s reports from Vienna for publication. Most likely, Walsh called on Hoffer to do this. Steinitz left England on or about 20 April and traveled to Vienna by way of France, where he played the following game.

504. A. Clerc and J. Arnous de Rivière–Steinitz Consultation game, Paris, 22 April 1882 Vienna Game (C25) Bachmann (game 968) has translated notes by Rosenthal from La Vie Moderne. The following is Steinitz’s own description from The Field of 6 May 1882, but he did not publish the moves:

11. A Champion Returns—and Departs, 1882 Herr Steinitz, on his way to Vienna, paid a visit to the Cercle des Echecs, in Paris, where he engaged in a friendly game against MM. Clerc and De Rivière in consultation. The single player lost his Queen for two minor pieces by a miscalculation early after the developing moves of a Queen’s Knight opening turned into a Ruy Lopez; but, after a tough struggle full of interesting complications, he managed to escape with a draw.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 g6 5. Nf3 Bg7 6. d3 Nd4 7. Ne2 N×f3† 8. g×f3 Qh4 9. c3 Qh3 10. f4 Qg2 11. Ng3 h5 12. h4 b5 13. Bb3 d6 14. Qe2 e×f4 15. B×f4 Bg4 16. Qf1 Qf3 17. Bg5 f6 18. Bd1 f×g5 19. B×f3 B×f3 20. h×g5 Ne7 21. Rh4 Rf8 22. Qh3 b4 23. Ne2 b×c3 24. b×c3 Rb8 25. Nd4 B×d4 26. c×d4 Rb2 27. Qg3 Bg4 28. f4 Nc6 29. Rh2 Rb4 30. Rc2 N×d4 31. R×c7 Rb2 32. f5 Nf3† 33. Kd1 Nd4† 34. Ke1 Nf3† 35. Kf1 h4 36. Rc8† Kd7 37. Q×g4 Nh2† 38. Kg1 N×g4 39. R×f8 h3 40. f×g6 Rg2† 41. Kh1 Rh2† ½–½ Arriving in Vienna ahead of the tournament, Steinitz was able to renew his acquaintance with old friends and Meitner in particular. They warmed up for the serious business ahead with a friendly match for a nominal stake in which Steinitz played blindfold but draws would count as wins for him. When publishing one of these games in The Field, Steinitz said, “the match is for the best out of five games, regulated by a time limit of fifteen moves per hour.” A second game was published elsewhere but no result of the contest appeared in print so perhaps these were the only two games played, or else Steinitz won by a large margin.

505. Dr. P. Meitner–Steinitz Blindfold odds match, Vienna (1), May 1882 Sicilian Defense (B40) The Field, 6 May 1882; C.P.C., 10 May 1882. Bachmann published this game twice in the 1920s. It was game 969 in his first edition, appendix to volume 4; in the second edition it was game 405a in volume 2, page 65.

1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. a3 d5 5. e×d5 e×d5 6. d4 c4 7. g3 Be7 8. Bg2 0–0 9. 0–0 Be6 10. Re1 Nc6 11. h3 Qb6 12. Ne2 Ne4 13. c3 Na5 14. Nd2 N×d2 15. B×d2 Nb3 16. Ra2 Rfe8 17. Nc1 Na5 18. Qc2 g6 19. g4 Bd6 20. Ra1 Bc7 21. Ne2 Nb3 22. Rad1 N×d2 23. Q×d2 Qd6 24. Ng3 b5 25. Re2 a5 26. Rde1 Reb8 27. Qg5 Qf4 28. Qe7 Bd6 29. R×e6 B×e7 30. R×e7 Rd8 31. R7e5 b4 32. R1e3 b×c3 33. b×c3 Rab8 34. B×d5 Rb2 35. Bf3 Ra2 36. R×a5 Rb8 37. Rae5 Rb1† 38. Kg2 Raa1 39. R5e4 and Black announced mate in four moves (0–1). The end would be 39. … Rg1† 40. Kh2 Rh1† 41. B×h1 Q×f2† 42. Bg2 Qg1 mate.

506. Steinitz–Dr. P. Meitner Blindfold match, Vienna (2), May 1882 English Opening (A20) Not in Bachmann, but annotated by Gunsberg in C.P.C., 10 May 1882, pages 219–220.

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1. c4 e5 Gunsberg said “it has been repeatedly demonstrated that P to K4 is not a good reply to P to QB4; P to K3 is the usual move.” 2. e3 Nf6 3. Nf3 d6 4. d4 e×d4 5. e×d4 Be7 6. Bd3 Bg4 7. 0–0 Nc6 8. Be3 Qd7 9. Nc3 0–0 10. a3 a5 11. Rc1 b6? Gunsberg suggested 11. … d5 12. c×d5 (12. c5 B×c5 13. d×c5 d4) 12. … N×d5 13. Be4 Nf6 “with a tolerable position” 12. Bc2 Qc8 13. Re1 Re8 14. h3 Bf5 15. Ba4 Bd7 16. Qd3 Gunsberg commented on how Steinitz gained time by Ba4 to set up a battery against h7 (not using that term). “What seemed an attack on the Queen’s side will turn presently to an attack on the King’s side. Thus he keeps pressing on the attack not particular at what point, and never over burdening himself with attempts to carry out forcibly one particular idea. He thus accumulates small advantages in position as the game proceeds, the result of which in the end is the winning of the game.” 16. … Nd8 17. Bc2 Ne6 18. Nd5 Nf8 19. N×e7† R×e7 20. Bg5 R×e1† 21. R×e1 Ne8 22. Be7 Ng6 23. Ng5 Nf6 24. B×f6 g×f6 25. Ne4 Qd8 26. Qf3 Kg7 27. Ng3 f5 28. B×f5 Rb8 29. B×d7 Q×d7 30. Nh5† Kf8 31. Qf6 1–0

Vienna International 1882 In 1882 the Wiener Schachgesellschaft celebrated the silver jubilee of its foundation and it decided to mark the occasion with the most important international tournament since Paris 1878. It is certainly to Steinitz’s credit that he not only won it, but also wrote weekly reports while his rivals were resting. Around the time he was playing Meitner, Steinitz wrote a short preview article, published on 6 May, in which he named the likely participants in the tournament. It probably reflects the uncertainty of Kolisch and other organizers about who would be coming. Entries for Europeans closed on the 2nd of May, Steinitz said, but Americans were allowed more time. Judd was expected to represent the United States and Mackenzie’s arrival was a possibility. Six Austrian competitors were named including “Dr. Fleissig” (Maximilian); Steinitz did not name Meitner who apparently was brought in as a late substitute. Berthold Englisch (1851–1897), also mentioned as a possible entrant, did play. From Germany, Steinitz expected Leffmann (who did not play) and Louis Paulsen, along with Winawer, “who has resided in Berlin for years.” Steinitz wrote that Greece was expected to send for the first time a representative to an international tournament, namely Professor Focazeno of Athens, who “has not been known in the chess world hitherto.” Either that information was incorrect or perhaps Focazeno, when he saw the list of highly distinguished and formidable opponents, decided it was better his name remain unknown. The first of Steinitz’s reports was datelined 9 May (when the preliminary meeting was held) but did not arrive in London in time and so was published on 20 May along with

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Steinitz in London

his summary of the first four rounds.16 There he commented on the final line-up of competitors and observed that the event would be at least six weeks in duration. Judd was unable to stay in Europe beyond the middle of June and so withdrew his name. Dr. Fleissig was unwell while Pitschel and Focazeno, not being present when the draw took place on the 9th, were also excluded, but latecomers Bird (who had learnt his lesson from Brunswick) and Chigorin had sent messages in time so were included. Steinitz also commented on the arrival of Preston Ware, from Boston, Massachusetts, who had been guilty of gamefixing at the last American congress. Some of the English competitors, he said, had raised the matter without making a formal protest, and “Mr. Ware, on being called to account, frankly confessed that … he had thoughtlessly and on the spur of the moment, acted in a manner which on reflection since, he could only consider dishonourable.” The committee then agreed to admit him to the tournament. The schedule of 34 games in six weeks required players to meet each of their 17 opponents in turn, and then play them in the same order with reverse colors in the second cycle. This was the first great tournament employing that system and Steinitz in his preview called it a “test of endurance.” The other rules were largely those which Kolisch had drafted previously; draws counted half a point. The pairing system was far from ideal. Following the preliminary meeting, at which each player had to draw a numbered card, the pairings for the first six rounds were published. Steinitz hinted that the organizers may have made some adjustment so that the late arrivals, Bird and Chigorin, were due to meet in the first round enabling their game to be postponed until the first rest day. As originally announced, Steinitz would have begun with three White games and would have had five Whites in the first six rounds. This would have meant a preponderance of Blacks at a later stage. Worse, Dr. Noa had been drawn to have Black in all the first six rounds. Consequently, at the “urgent request” of some of the players, “it was decided that the move should be drawn for in the ordinary way in the first series of seventeen games,” with a reversal of colors in the second half.17 Two players did not complete the tournament, resulting in byes in the second cycle: Noa withdrew at the halfway stage but Bernhard Fleissig met some opponents for the second time before departing. One of the curious and regrettable incidents in this tournament was the behavior of Bird, who was ill towards the end of the tournament and conceded forfeits to five opponents in succession, but then rose from his sick-bed for the last round, clearly determined to spoil Steinitz’s triumph if he could. The irony was that when Bird did achieve a drawn position (which would have relegated Steinitz to joint second place), he blundered. After the tournament was over, Steinitz described the conditions of play in Vienna as follows:

Though, on the whole, the arrangements of the tournament were of a most satisfactory character, and reflect great credit on the managing committee, we have, in the interest of future contests, to point out some defects which exercised an undue influence during the progress of the contest. The room in which the play proceeded was not well adapted for that purpose, and some of the boards were so unfavourably situated that after the first few rounds the tables on which the respective pairs had to sit had to be drawn for by lot, and some of the competitors were admittedly placed at a great disadvantage in reference to light and ventilation, and to their being subjected to overcrowding on the part of the spectators. Strong objections must also be raised against the practice which prevailed during the congress of analysing pending games by moving about the pieces in a room adjoining the one in which they were played. In England this is strictly forbidden, even in matches between two players only, and it is all the more necessary to adopt such a restriction in tournaments where many are engaged. Apart from possible illegalities on the part of the lookers-on—who, especially during an adjournment, could easily convey the result of such examinations to their friends amongst the competitors—the players often passed through the room in which the games were analysed, and a mere glance at a position which could arise might have given important hints. Barring these drawbacks, the tournament was excellently managed; and the committee showed the utmost impartiality in their decisions on disputed questions, and the greatest consideration towards all competitors in minor matters. The tournament will be remarkable in chess history as having produced the finest as well as the most numerous team of players that has ever engaged in a general contest of two games all round…. The tournament excited the greatest interest, and the play was daily attended by a large number of spectators—in fact, larger than the room could conveniently hold.18

After a banquet hosted by Baron Albert von Rothschild, president of the Vienna Chess Club, held at the Hotel Metropole on the evening of the 9th, play began next morning at 10 a.m. for all except Bird and Chigorin. Long quotations below, before several of the games in this tournament, are by Steinitz from his round-by-round descriptions in The Field. No contemporary tournament book was published, and, with such a huge number of games, only a small percentage appeared in chess magazines within a few months of the event. Luckily for posterity, Lehner had access to the original scoresheets in the archives of Vienna Chess Club and published the games up to 1887 in a literary magazine entitled the Oesterreichische Lesehalle of which he was editor. This was the main source for Christian Bijl’s book of the event (subsequently referred to as “Bijl”), which was published in 1984.19 That book also includes annotations and summaries from several contemporary journals.

507. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne Vienna international (1), 10 May 1882 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 406); Bijl (game 1), page 20; Blackburne (game 342), page 177. This was Steinitz’s come-back game, six years and three months since he had defeated

11. A Champion Returns—and Departs, 1882 Blackburne 7–0 in their match. The English master had a lot of success against Steinitz in tournaments, but not on this occasion. The Field said: Steinitz had a very hard-fought game against Blackburne, which lasted eight hours. He opened with the Hampe [sic], which Blackburne defended with a variation invented by Mr. Steel. Its main point consists in bringing out the Q Kt to B3 after White takes the KP on the sixth move…. Steinitz offered the exchange of queens at Q Kt3, which Blackburne immediately took for the ending. Steinitz alternately attacked on the two wings until he won a P on the K side, having had all the time the majority of pawns on the other side. Blackburne defended himself remarkably well, and the finish was very interesting. Steinitz won at last with two passed pawns on the Q side.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nc3 Nf6 3.  f4 d5 4.  d3 d×e4 5.  f×e5 Ng4 6. N×e4 Nc6 7. c3 Qd5 8. Qb3 Q×b3 9. a×b3 Ng×e5 10. d4 Ng6 11. Bc4 Be7 12. Nf3 h6 13. b4 0–0 14. 0–0 Bf5 15. Nfg5! B×e4 16. N×e4 Nd8? 17. b5 Re8 18. Ng3 Bf8 19. Nf5 Ne7 20. Ne3 Ne6 21. Ng4 Ng6 22. Bd5 Nd8 23. B×h6 Bachmann commented that Blackburne had foreseen the threatened bishop sacrifice; but he believed erroneously that he had a satisfactory continuation. 23. … c6 24. b×c6 b×c6 25. Bc4 Re7 26. Bg5 Rd7 27. h4 Be7 28. h5 Nf8 29. Be3 Bd6 30. b4 Nde6 31. Ra6 Rc8 32. h6 Nh7 33. h×g7 K×g7 34. Bh6† Kg8 35. Bd3 Rcc7 36. Bd2 Nef8 37. Nh6† Kh8 38. Be4 Re7 39. B×c6 Re2 40. Nf5 R×d2 41. N×d6 Ng5 42. Re1 Nfe6 43. Rf1 Nd8 44. b5 Rd3 45. Rf5 Nge6 46. Ne4 Ng7 47. Rf6 Kg8 48. Rh6 Nge6 49. d5 Nf4 50. Rh4 N×c6 51. Nf6† Kf8 52. R×c6 R×c6 53. b×c6 Ng6 54. c7 R×c3 55. d6 Ne5 56. Re4 1–0

509. G. H. Mackenzie–Steinitz Vienna international (3), 12 May 1882 Ruy Lopez (C70) Bachmann (game 408); Bijl (game 19), pages 37–38. According to the originally published pairings, Steinitz would have had first move again. His summary in The Field was as follows: Steinitz’s game against Mackenzie was an extraordinary one. The former defended the Ruy Lopez with a combination of Morphy’s favourite move P to QR3, followed by K Kt to K2. The latter move Steinitz had unsuccessfully adopted against Blackburne twice in the Vienna tournament of 1873, and it was severely condemned by all authorities. But Steinitz believes in its soundness, in conjunction with the previous advance of P to QR3. On the present occasion he soon obtained the counter-attack, and Mackenzie was compelled to hazard the sacrifice of two pawns. But both players overlooked that, in lieu of taking the second pawn, which Steinitz impetuously captured, as he felt sure it was sufficient to win, he would have gained a clear piece, or effected mate by 23. … Bd4†. However, he gave up one P, in order to obtain a winning superiority on the Q side, but tried to force the game too soon, and overlooked a most ingenious draw.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nge7 5. d4 e×d4 6. N×d4 N×d4 7. Q×d4 b5 8. Bb3 d6 9. c3 c5 10. Qe3 Bb7 11. Nd2 Ng6 12. 0–0 Be7 13. f4 0–0 14. Nf3 Bf6 15. f5 Ne5 16. N×e5 B×e5 17. Qf3 Re8 18. Qh5 c4 19. Bc2 Bf6 20. Qg4 Qe7 21. Re1 d5 22. e5 B×e5 23. f6? Q×f6? 24. Bg5 Qb6† 25. Kh1 g6 26. Rf1 Qe6 27. Qh4 Bg7 28. Rae1 Qc6 29. Qf2 R×e1 30. R×e1 Re8 31. Rf1 d4 32. c×d4 (see diagram)

508. Steinitz–J. Noa Vienna international (2), 11 May 1882 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Bachmann (game 407); Bijl (game 12), page 30. The Field said: The opening was a King’s Gambit declined, which Noa defended so well that Steinitz could not get the least advantage, until, under pressure of time, Dr. Noa advanced his pawns on the Queenside too far in the attack, which enabled the first player to form an irresistible counter attack. Dr. Noa had to give up two Bishops for a Rook, and Steinitz soon afterwards forced a mating position.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6 4. c3 Bg4 5. Bc4 Nc6 6. h3 B×f3 7. Q×f3 Qe7 8. f5 0–0–0 9. d3 Nf6 10. Bg5 Bb6 11. Nd2 Rhf8 12. Rf1 Nb8 13. Bb3 c6 14. 0–0–0 Nbd7 15. Nc4 Bc7 16. Ne3 Rde8 17. g4 Nc5 18. Bc2 Bd8 19. Nc4 Qc7 20. Be3 Nfd7 21.  g5 b5 22.  Nd2 Nb6 23.  h4 Rh8 24.  Kb1 Ncd7 25. Bb3 Ref8 26. d4 a5 27. Qh5 h6 28. Qe2 a4 29. Bc2 Kb7 30.  c4 h×g5 31.  h×g5 Rh3 32.  c×b5 c×b5 33.  Rc1 e×d4 34. B×d4 B×g5 35. e5 d5 36. B×a4 Nc4 37. N×c4 b×c4 38. Qg2 B×c1 39. R×c1 Qa5 40. B×d7 Rd3 41. Bc3 Qd8 42. e6 f×e6 43. B×e6 Re8 44. Q×g7† Re7 45. Qe5 Rh7 46. Bd4 Kc6 47. R×c4† Kb5 48. Rc5† Ka4 49. b3† Ka3 50. Qe1 1–0

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After 32. c×d4

wDwDrDkD DbDwDpgp pDqDwDpD DpDwDwGw wDp)wDwD DwDwDwDw P)BDw!P) DwDwDRDK

32. … B×d4? “32. … f5 would have won easily, for nothing could save the d-pawn on the next move. If White then played 33. Rd1 Black could still take 33. … B×d4 for the Rook could not retake 34.  R×d4 on account of 34.  … Re1†.” 33. Q×f7† Kh8 34. Be4 Q×e4 35. Bf6† White draws by perpetual check. Bachmann ends here but Bijl and ChessBase have another move pair: 35. … B×f6 36. Q×f6† ½–½.

510. Steinitz–J. H. Zukertort Vienna international (4), 13 May 1882 Kieseritzky Gambit (C39) Bachmann (game 409); Bijl pages 51–52. According to the originally published pairings, Steinitz would have been Black in his first game with Zukertort. As he annotated the game for The Field he did not give a lengthy introduction, just commenting that “Zukertort’s capital play

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Steinitz in London

is a complete demonstration against the Kieseritzky Gambit.” Steinitz adopted the King’s Gambit five times at Vienna and won four of those games, but it was not a wise choice against Zukertort.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nf6 6. Bc4 d5 7. e×d5 Bg7 8. Nc3 0–0 9. d4 Nh5 10. Ne2 c5 11. c3 c×d4 12. c×d4 Nd7 13. N×d7 B×d7 14. Qd3 Rc8 15. N×f4 Re8† 16.  Kd1 b5 17.  N×h5 b×c4 18.  Qa3 B×d4 19.  Bd2 Qb6 20. Bc3 Re3 21. Re1 B×c3 22. R×e3 Q×e3 23. b×c3 Qg1† 24. Kd2 Q×g2† 25. Ke3 Re8† 26. Kd4 Qe4† 27. Kc5 Qe7† 28. d6 Qe5† 29. K×c4 Qe4† 30. Kb3 Rb8† 31. Qb4 R×b4† 32. c×b4 Qd3† 33. Kb2 Qd4† 0–1 It was in this fourth round that Mason overstepped the time limit at move 30 in a lost position against Bird. The English master failed to claim so the game continued, but Bird subsequently played badly and lost. A protest was entered, apparently by Steinitz, and at a committee meeting on 18 May the point was awarded to Bird.20 Ultimately Mason was a point short of being involved in the tie and play-off for first prize. Wordsworth Donisthorpe wrote to The Chess-Monthly (no supporter of Steinitz) to complain of his behavior, after which Bird complained that his name had been drawn into the controversy. This incident undoubtedly forms part of the background to the problem at The Field which arose soon after the tournament.

Sunday, 14 May was a rest day, except for Bird who lost his postponed round one game to Chigorin after about 90 minutes play.

511. V. Hruby–Steinitz Vienna international (5), 15 May 1882 Ruy Lopez (C70) Bachmann (game 410); Bijl (game 37), pages 62–64. According to the originally published pairings, Steinitz would have had first move. The Field (27 May) said: Steinitz defended against Hruby the Ruy Lopez in the same way as against Mackenzie, and had a slight advantage in the opening, until he allowed, by a slip, a Rook to enter at d5, which cost him the bpawn. Hruby kept the pawn tenaciously and made some excellent maneuvers to bring his pieces, which he had concentrated for an attack on the Kingside, over in time to the Queen’s wing, where Steinitz had obtained the superiority. Hruby succeeded in bringing his Queen into play, but his Rook was kept confined, and Steinitz had the best of the game then. Hruby defended himself with great ingenuity, and at last offered to give up the pawn which he had gained, in a position which would have given him an excellent game to play for a draw. In trying to win, Steinitz made a move with his Rook which Hruby took advantage of in very fine style. The former had overlooked what Hruby had clearly seen through—that Steinitz could capture a pawn, allowing him to pin Hruby’s Queen; for he would recover the pawn with a check of the Rook. Steinitz’s game soon afterwards broke down completely, after about six hours’ play.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nge7 5. d4 e×d4 6. N×d4 N×d4 7. Q×d4 b5 8. Bb3 d6 9. c3 c5 10. Qe3 Bb7 11. 0–0 Ng6 12. a4 Be7 13. Na3 0–0 14. Bd2 c4 15. Bc2 Qd7 16.  Rad1 Rfe8 17.  Bc1 Qc6 18.  a×b5 a×b5 19.  Rd5 Qc8 20.  Rh5 d5 21.  N×b5 Bc5 22.  Qg3 Qc6 23.  Nd4 B×d4 24. e×d5 Qd7 25. c×d4 B×d5 26. Bf5 Qb7 27. f3 Ra1 28. Qg5 Qb3 29. Qd2 Qb7 30. Re1 R×e1† 31. Q×e1 Nf8 32. Bc2 f6 33. Kf2 g6 34. Rh4 g5 35. Rh3 Kg7 36. Be4 B×e4 37. f×e4 Ne6 38. Qc3 Ra4? Loses at once, whereas 38. … Q×e4 would maintain Black’s advantage. 39. e5 f5 If 39. … f×e5? 40. Qc2. 40. Qc2 Ra8 41. Q×f5 Nf8 42. Q×g5† Ng6 43. Qf6† Kg8 44. Qe6† Kg7 45. Rf3 Ra6 46. Qf5 Qd5 47. Be3 c3 48. b×c3 Ra2† 49. Kg3 R×g2† 50. Kh3 Qa2 51. Qf7† Q×f7 52. R×f7† K×f7 53. K×g2 Ke6 54. c4 Kf5 55. Kf3 Ne7 56. Bf4 Nc6 57. d5 Na5 58. c5 1–0

512. P. Ware–Steinitz Vienna international (6), 16 & 21 May 1882 Queen’s Pawn Game (D00) Bachmann (game 411); Bijl (game 46), pages 71 and 117– 122, has this out of sequence because the editor ordered games by when they ended. It began on 16 May and was broken off late that night after Black’s 109th move, and was played off on Sunday, 21 May, and not on 18 May as the Wiener Allgemeine Zeitung had said. Steinitz himself confirmed that in his summary of this marathon: Successful come-back: Steinitz at the Vienna 1882 tournament. (From Brentano’s Chess Magazine.)

Ware, in his game against Steinitz, again fortified himself with his “stone wall.” The latter omitted in the middle to stop the advance of

11. A Champion Returns—and Departs, 1882 his e-pawn, and had a bad game, which the American handled with consummate skill by pressing an attack against Steinitz’s Kingside, from which the latter could only relieve himself at the expense of two pawns. The Bishops were, however, of different colors, and Steinitz had a clear draw, though there was a Rook on the board on each side; but, in trying to win, Steinitz again compromised his position, and had at last to give up a piece for two pawns. Ware missed several winning chances, and the game was adjourned, over a hundred moves having been made, after twelve hours’ play, Ware being a Bishop ahead. The game was then lost by the very best play on Steinitz’s side, but some very legitimate stalemate hopes remained, which Ware carefully avoided. On the following Sunday the game was resumed, and Steinitz committed a flagrant error on the 3rd move, which deprived him of all further prospects of resistance, and he immediately resigned.

1. d4 e6 2. f4 d5 3. Nf3 c5 4. c3 Nc6 5. e3 Nf6 6. Bd3 Bd6 7. 0–0 0–0 8. Bd2 c4 9. Bc2 b5 10. Be1 a5 11. Bh4 b4 12. Nbd2 Rb8 13. Ne5 Na7 14. e4 Be7 15. e×d5 e×d5 16. f5 Rb6 17. Qf3 Nb5 18. Rae1 b×c3 19. b×c3 Nd6 20. Rb1 Nde8 21. g4 h6 22. Qe2 Ba3 23. R×b6 Q×b6 24. Rb1 Qc7 25. Ndf3 Nd6 26. Nd2 Nd7 27. Qf3 Re8 28. Bg3 Nf6 29. h4 Bb7 30. g5 Nfe4 31. N×e4 d×e4 32. Qf4 h×g5 33. h×g5 Bd5 34. g6 f6 35.  Ng4 Rb8 36.  Rf1 Rb2 37.  Ne3 Qb7 38.  Qh4 Kf8 39. B×d6† B×d6 40. N×d5 Q×d5 41. B×e4 Rh2 42. B×d5 R×h4 43. B×c4 Rh3 44. Rc1 Rf3 45. Be6 Ke7 46. Kg2 Rd3 47. Bc4 Rg3† 48. Kf2 Bf4 49. Rc2 Kd8 50. Bf1 Re3 51. Be2 Kd7 52.  Bf3 Rd3 53.  a4 Kd8 54.  Bg2 Kd7 55.  Bf3 Kd6 56. Be2 Rh3 57. Bf1 Re3 58. Bb5 Bh6 59. Be2 Bf4 60. Bf3 Kd7 61. Bd5 Kd6 62. Bf3 Kd7 63. Be2 Kd8 64. Bb5 Bh6 65. Kg2 Kc7 66. Kf2 Kd8 67. Bc4 Kc7 68. Bg8 Rh3 69. Bb3 Rh5 70. Ke2 R×f5 71. Kd3 Kd6 72. Bf7 Rf3† 73. Kc4 f5 74. Kb5 Rf1 75. K×a5 Rb1 76. Rh2 Bg5 77. Ka6 f4 78. Rh5 Bd8 79. Rb5 Rc1 80. c4 Ra1 81. a5 f3 82. Rf5 Ra3 83. Bd5 B×a5 84. c5† Kc7 85. Rf7† Kb8 86. Kb5 Bc3 87. R×f3 Ra5† 88. Kc4 Ba1 89. Bc6 Ra2 90. Rb3† Kc7 91. Be8 Rc2† 92. Kd3 Rc1 93. Ra3 Rd1† 94. Kc2 Re1 95. d5 Be5 96. d6† B×d6 97. c×d6† K×d6 98. Rd3† Ke7 99. Kd2 Re5 100. Bf7 Re4 101. Ra3 Re5 102. Kd3 Kf6 103. Kd4 Re1 104. Ra6† Kf5 105. Bc4 Re4† 106. Kc5 Re3 107. Rd6 Re7 108. Kc6 Re1 109. Kd7 Re3 110. Kd8 Kg5 111. Bf7 Kf5 112. Be8 Re1 113. Rd7 1–0

513. Steinitz–B. Fleissig Vienna international (7), 17 May 1882 French Defense (C00) Bachmann (game 412); Bijl (game 55), pages 81–82. The Field said: The game of Steinitz against Fleissig will be interesting for analysts. All sorts of experiments have been made at various stages in the early part of the French defense to introduce something new, in order to relieve the game from its dullness, and especially e4–e5 has been tried at different points, but never on the second move. Steinitz fancied that it is most feasible, and what he speculated upon happened against Fleissig. Steinitz took immediately Fleissig’s d-pawn “en passant” when he advanced it, and obtained an open file for the Rook;

289

and Fleissig’s Queen’s Bishop was for a long time confined. When at last, with great trouble, he brought it out to a6, the unfavorable situation of that Bishop enabled Steinitz, after pressing an attack against the Kingside which forced the hostile Knights, to turn over with the Queen to a3, and to win the two Black pawns at a7 and b6. Steinitz’s Queen was only for a little while out of play, and soon returned, with a winning position. Duration, 5 hours.

1. e4 e6 2. e5!? d5 3. e×d6 B×d6 4. d4 Ne7 5. Bd3 Ng6 6. Nf3 Nc6 7. Nc3 Nb4 8. Bc4 c6 9. Ne4 Bc7 10. 0–0 0–0 11. Re1 Nd5 12. Nc5 Nh4 13. Ne5 Nf5 14. c3 B×e5 15. R×e5 Nf6 16. Re1 h6 17. Qf3 Nd5 18. Bb3 b6 19. Nd3 Ba6 20. Ne5 Rc8 21. Bc2 Nfe7 22. Qg3 Kh8 23. Qh4 Kg8 24. Qg3 Kh8 25. Qh3 Ng8 26. Qh5 Rc7 27. Bd2 Ndf6 28. Qh3 Nd5 29. c4 Ndf6 30. Rad1 Qe8 31. Bf4 Rc8 32. Qa3 Bb7 33. Q×a7 Ba8 34. Q×b6 g5 35. Bg3 Nd7 36. Qb3 f5 37. f3 Kg7 38. c5 Ndf6 39. Nc4 1–0 Thursday, 18 May was Ascension Day, a religious holiday, and accordingly there was no play. In the morning most players assembled to witness the committee meeting that decided the aforementioned Bird versus Mason dispute, after which the players were entertained to a dinner hosted by Baron and Baroness Kolisch “at his splendid villa on the Kohlenberg,” as Steinitz described it, although Kolisch and Irma Rajsz did not marry (in London) until the ninth of June.21 A special guest of honor on this occasion was Baron Tassilo von Heydebrand und von der Lasa, the Prussian diplomat who was editor of the celebrated Handbuch des Schachspiels.

514. A. Wittek–Steinitz Vienna international (8), 19 May 1882 Three Knights’ Game (C46) Bachmann (game 413); Bijl (game 64), pages 92–93. The Field said: Wittek opened against Steinitz with the Two Knights, and the latter defended with 3. … g6, followed by …Nf6. Steinitz suffered much from want of development, and Wittek pressed the attack against his Kingside skillfully, to the gain of a pawn. By a counter attack on the Queenside Steinitz recovered position; but in trying to win, instead of playing for a draw, he exhausted his time, and had at last to make eleven moves in seven minutes. Naturally most of them were hasty, and compromised his position. He wound up at last with a fearful blunder, which cost him the Queen on the move by an attack from the Knight. Steinitz’s game was, however, bad at the time, as subsequent analysis showed. Duration, six hours.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 g6 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 Bg7 6. Be3 Nf6 7. Be2 0–0 8. 0–0 Re8 9. f3 d6 10. Qd2 Ne5 11. Rad1 Bd7 12. Bh6 Bh8 13. Bg5 Qc8 14. Qf4 Nh5 15. Qh4 c6 16. f4 f6 17. Bh6 Nf7 18. B×h5 N×h6 19. B×g6 h×g6 20. Q×h6 Re7 21. f5 g5 22. Qg6† Bg7 23. Qh5 Qc7 24. Qe2 b5 25. Qd3 Rf7 26. Rf2 Re8 27. Rfd2 Bf8 28. b4 a5 29. a3 Qa7 30. Kh1 a×b4 31. a×b4 Qa3 32. Rb1 Rh7 33. Nd1 Qa2 34. c3 Qf7 35. Nf2 Ra8 36. Qg3 Ra3 37. Rd3 Qc4 38. Rbd1 Ra2 39. Ng4 Rf7 40. Ne3 Q×d3 41. R×d3 Ra1† 42. Rd1 Ra2 43. Ng4 1–0

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Steinitz in London

515. Steinitz–Dr. P. Meitner Vienna international (9), 20 May 1882 King’s Gambit Declined (C30) Bachmann (game 414); Bijl (game 74), page 106 has notes from D.S.Z. 1883, page 173. Steinitz wrote in The Field a long description of this one-sided game which does not deserve quoting at length, especially as he was critical of his own tenth move, of which Stockfish 10 approves.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6 4. Bc4 Bg4? 5. f×e5 d×e5 6. B×f7† Kf8 7. Bb3 Nc6 8. Nc3 g6 9. d3 Kg7 10. Na4 Bb4† 11.  c3 b5 12.  c×b4 b×a4 13.  B×a4 N×b4 14.  Bb5 B×f3 Pickard’s database had the sequence 14. … Rb8 15. Bc4 B×f3 16.  g×f3, which transposes. 15.  g×f3 Rb8 16.  Bc4 Qh4† 17. Kf1 Nf6 18. Kg2 Nh5 19. Rf1 Nc6 20. b3 Rhf8 21. Be3 Rbd8 22. Qd2 Nf4† 23. Kh1 Rf6 24. Rac1 Nd4 25. Qa5 Qh3 26. B×f4 e×f4 27. Rf2 N×f3 28. e5 Rc6 29. e6 R×d3 30. e7 Qe6! (An ingenious attempt at a swindle; White would actually lose if he captured the queen.) 31. Re1 R×c4 32. R×e6 Rc1† 33. Re1 1–0

516. Steinitz–M. I. Chigorin Vienna international (10), 22 May 1882 Salvio Gambit (C37) Bachmann (game 415); Bijl (game 96), pages 141–142. The Field said: Steinitz played the King’s Gambit against Tschigorin, who adopted the Salvio variation. Though a pawn behind, the first player obtained the attack in the center early; but Tschigorin pushed a counter attack with his pawns on the Kingside in an ingenious manner. Under time pressure, near the 30th move, both made mistakes; and it is difficult to say what ought to have become of it by correct play, but Steinitz won after four hours’ play.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. Ne5 Qh4† 6. Kf1 Nh6 7. d4 f3 8. Nc3 Nc6 9. Bf4 d6 10. N×c6 f×g2† 11. K×g2 b×c6 12. Rf1 Bd7 13. Qd2 Bg7 14. Rae1 0–0 15. Re3 Kh8 16. Ne2 d5 17. e×d5 Nf5 18. Rd3 Qh5 19. Kg1 Nh4 20. Ng3 Qg6 21. Qa5 Nf3† 22. Kh1 h5 23. d6 f5 24. Q×c7 Rad8 25. Re3 h4 26. Ne2 N×d4 27. Re7 N×e2 28. B×e2 g3 29. Bf3 Rg8 30. h×g3 h×g3 31. Kg2 Bh6 32. Be5† As per Bijl (1–0). 32. Bd5 in ChessBase was surely a data input error.

the open e-file, which, according to his idea, should be the main object of the attack. White had a good game throughout; and, after having well secured the Queenside, he opened an attack on the Kingside, which forced the gain of a pawn, and brought the adverse King into serious trouble. Steinitz wound up with an interesting sacrifice of the Exchange, which forced a mate after four hours’ play.

1. e4 e6 2. e5 c5 3. f4 d5 4. e×d6 B×d6 5. g3 Bd7 6. Nf3 Bc6 7. Bg2 Nf6 8. 0–0 Nbd7 9. d3 0–0 10. Nbd2 Nb6? 11. Qe2 Qc7 12. b3 Be7 13. Bb2 a5? 14. a4 Nbd5 15. Nc4 Nb4 16. Rae1 Nfd5 17. Nfe5 Bf6 Pickard’s database had 17. … Bd6 here. 18. Qf2 Be8 19. g4 Rd8 20. g5 Be7 21. Ng4 Nc6 22. Qh4 Nd4 23. Be4 f5 24. g×f6 N×f6 25. N×f6† B×f6 26. Q×h7† Kf7 27. Bg2 Rg8 28. Ne5† Kf8 29. Rf2 b5 30. a×b5 B×b5 31. Bh3 Re8 32. Re4!? (One of many ways to win.) 32. … Bc6 33. R×d4! c×d4 34. Ba3† Be7 35. B×e6 1–0 Black resigned. Bachmann continues 35. … B×a3 36. Ng6 mate but his last move pair was not played.

518. Steinitz–S. Winawer Vienna international (12), 24 May 1882 French Defense (C00) Bachmann (game 417); Bijl (game 100), pages 150–152. The Field said: Steinitz again adopted his attack, 2. e5, in the French defense, which Winawer had played, and played it in the same manner as against Weiss, only that Winawer, after playing 2. … c5, advanced 4. … f6, which pawn Steinitz immediately took. White soon obtained a strong attack on the Queenside; but, by a miscalculation, Steinitz gave up a pawn prematurely, which he had great trouble to recover. But, having at last equalized the forces, he remained with the superior position. Winawer on the 29th move felt himself compelled to venture the sacrifice of a piece for a pawn, in order to obtain some attack on the Kingside; but it was found that he had exceeded his time limit, and the game was therefore scored against him. Duration, 4 hours.

1. e4 e6 2. e5 c5 3. f4 Nc6 4. Nf3 f6 5. e×f6 N×f6 6. g3 Be7 7. Bg2 Qc7 8. 0–0 0–0 9. Nc3 a6 10. b3 b5 11. Bb2 Bb7 12. d3 Nd8 13. Qe2 Nf7 14. Nd1 Rae8 15. Ne3 Bd8 16. c4 Bc6 17. c×b5 B×b5 18. a4 Bc6 19. Rfc1 Qb7 20. Nc4 Bc7 21. Ba3 d6 22. Rab1 a5 23. d4 c×d4 24. Kh1 d3 25. Qf1 Ne4 26. Nd4 Bd5 27. Rb2 e5 28. Nb5 Re6 29. Q×d3 N×g3† (1–0 on time: see diagram.)

517. Steinitz–M. Weiss Vienna international (11), 23 May 1882 French Defense (C00) Bachmann (game 416); Bijl (game 96), pages 141–142; Devidé page 49; Pritchett (game 14), page 111. The Field (3 June) said: Steinitz treated the French defense, adopted by Weiss, in the same fashion as against Fleissig, viz., with the new move 2. e5, to which Weiss replied 2.  … c5. Steinitz then proceeded with 3.  f4 and the King’s fianchetto. He carefully abstained from all attempts at exchanging his d-pawn against the c-pawn, but kept the d-pawn at d3. He, however, exchanged immediately, in passing, his e-pawn for the adverse d-pawn as soon as the latter advanced, and he thus obtained

After 29. … N×g3†

wDwDw4kD DqgwDn0p wDw0rDwD 0NDb0wDw PDNDw)wD GPDQDwhw w$wDwDB) Dw$wDwDK

Bijl translated notes by Rosenthal from La Vie Moderne to this point, which is where Bachmann and ChessBase stop.

11. A Champion Returns—and Departs, 1882

291

Then he added the unofficial continuation (not mentioned by Steinitz), which he found in the Oesterreichische Lesehalle 1883 page 277 and which is also in Pickard’s database (but not his book): Winawer played here 29. … N×g3† and, according to the rules the game had to be decided against him, as his second hour was passed on his clock. The game was, however, played out subsequently on account of a private bet, Steinitz laying 10 to 1, and it proceeded in the following most interesting manner: 30. h×g3 B×g2† 31. R×g2 Rh6† 32. Kg1 e×f4 33. N×c7 Qa7† 34. Ne3 f×e3 35. Nb5 Qe7 36. Rf1 Qe6 37. g4 Re8 38. Nd4 Ng5 (An ingenious move. White gets the worst of the position if he takes 39. N×e6. Of course Black recovers the Queen by 39. … Nh3†.) 39. Rf5 Qe4 40. Qc4† Kh8 41. R×g5 e2 42. N×e2 Qe3† 43. Rf2 Q×g5 44. Bc1 and White won, though Winawer prolonged the defense to the ending. But the above will show that there was a great deal still in his game; and Herr Winawer maintains that by some modification of his mode of continuation he would have obtained a compensating attack.

519. Steinitz–J. Mason Vienna international (13), 25 May 1882 French Defense (C00) Bachmann (game 418); Bijl (game 109), pages 161–165. The Field said: Steinitz consistently adopted 2. e5 against Mason in the French defense, and the latter proceeded with 2.  … c5 and the Queen’s fianchetto, to which White opposed the same sort of development on the Kingside, after having also advanced f2–f4. Steinitz unnecessarily weakened his pawn at d3, by advancing c2–c3, and Mason directed his attack against that weak point. In the middle Steinitz lost the Exchange by an oversight, but recovered it, at the cost of a pawn, by a miscalculation which Mason made in the defense against an attack which the opponent had instituted on the Kingside. Steinitz, with two Bishops and Queen against Queen, Knight and Bishop, soon again assumed the offensive, in spite of the adverse superiority of a pawn, and he might perhaps have made more of his attack, but both players were severely pressed for time; and, though Mason finally obtained the superiority, he failed to make proper use of his advantage towards the end, and Bishops of opposite colors remained. Mason had a pawn ahead, but both Queens were on the board, and Black’s King was much exposed. The game was therefore abandoned as drawn, on the 66th move, after 8 hours’ play.

1. e4 e6 2. e5 c5 3. f4 Nc6 4. Nf3 Nh6 5. g3 b6 6. Bg2 Nf5 7. c3 Rb8 8. Qe2 Bb7 9. d3 Be7 10. Nbd2 d5 11. e×d6 N×d6 12. 0–0 0–0 13. Rd1 Qc8 14. Nf1 Rd8 15. Be3 Ba6 White’s dpawn becomes a constant worry. 16. Qc2 Ne8 17. Bf2 Rb7 18. Ne3 Rbd7 19. Ne1 Nf6 Black has a good game. 20. Qe2 Bb7 21. Nf3 Ba6 22. Ne1 Bd6 23. Rd2 Bb8 24. Rad1 Ne7 25. Nf3 Ne4 26. Ne1 N×d2 27. R×d2 Ng6 28. h4 Ne7 29. Qh5 B×d3 30. R×d3 R×d3 31. N×d3 R×d3 32. Be4 g6 33. Qg5 R×e3 34. B×e3 Nf5 35. Bf2 Bc7 36. Qg4 Nd6 37. Bd3 e5 38. Qg5 e4 39. Be2 Qe6 40. h5 f6 41. Qh4 e3 42. Be1 c4 43. h×g6 h×g6 44. Qh6 f5 45. Bf3 Nf7 46. Qh1 b5 47. Bd5 Qd6 48. b3 c×b3 49. a×b3 Bb6 50. Kf1 Kf8 51. c4 b×c4 52. B×c4 Qd1 53. Qc6 Nd6 54. Be2 Qd4 55. Qd7 Ne4 56. Qe6 Qf6 57. Qd7 Qe7 58. Qc8† Kg7 59. Bd3 Nd2† 60. Ke2 N×b3

Simon Winawer, joint winner with Steinitz of the Vienna 1882 tournament. (From Brentano’s Chess Magazine.)

61. Bc3† Nd4† 62. B×d4† B×d4 63. g4 f×g4 64. Q×g4 Qb4 65. Q×g6† Kf8 66. Kf3 Qb6 ½–½

520. H. E. Bird–Steinitz Vienna international (14), 26 May 1882 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 419); Bijl (game 124), pages 186–187 has notes from La Vie Moderne by Rosenthal. The Field said: Steinitz defended against Bird the Evans Gambit with 5. … Be7, and soon afterwards he developed the Knight at h6. Bird, on the 9th move, pushed his d-pawn to d5, overlooking the reply 9. … Bf6, attacking the Rook, which could only have been defended at the cost of another pawn by the reply 10. Bg5. Bird elected to give up the Exchange and to create a doubled pawn on the adverse h6, where Steinitz had deliberately castled. He had to give up two more pawns to sustain some show of an attack; but on the 28th move Steinitz came out with a clear Rook ahead and an irresistible superiority in position. Duration, 3 hours.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Be7 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 Nh6 8. c×d4 0–0 9. d5 Bf6 10. d×c6 B×a1 11. B×h6 g×h6 12. c×b7 B×b7 13. e5 B×f3 14. g×f3 B×e5 15. f4 B×f4 16. Kh1 Qf6 17. Qf3 Kh8 18. Bd3 Rae8 19. Qh3 Rg8 20. Na3 Qc6† 21. f3 Re5 22. Qh4 Bg5 23. Qg3 Re3 24. Be4 Qa6 25. Rg1 R×a3 26. h4 Qe6 27. Rg2 Q×e4 28. h×g5 R×f3 0–1

521. Steinitz–L. Paulsen Vienna international (15), 27 May 1882 Sicilian Defense (C55) Bachmann (game 420); Bijl (game 127), pages 192–193, has

292

Steinitz in London

some notes; Renette, Louis Paulsen (game 581), page 337, translates Tarrasch’s notes from D.S.Z., LII (March 1897), pages 82–83. The Field said: Paulsen defended the Sicilian against Steinitz, who treated this opening in the same manner as the French defense, viz., by advancing the pawn to e5, and keeping his d-pawn at d3. White castled on the Kingside, and obtained the open e-file by capturing the advancing d-pawn, while Black castled on the other wing, against which Steinitz directed his attack by the advance of the a-pawn. Paulsen saw himself compelled to stop this attack by confining his Queen to a6, and had at last to give up on the c-pawn. He then sacrificed another pawn in order to break through on the Kingside, and at last succeeded by some exceedingly ingenious maneuvers in making White’s position precarious.

1. e4 c5 2. f4 Nc6 3. Nf3 Nf6 4. e5 Nd5 5. g3 d6 6. e×d6 Q×d6 7. Bg2 Bf5 8. Na3 0–0–0 9. d3 g6 10. Nc4 Qc7 11. Nfe5 N×e5 12. N×e5 Be6 13. 0–0 Bg7 14. Nf3 h6 15. Qe2 Bf6 16. c3 Qb6 17. a4 Kb8 18. a5 Qa6 19. Ra3 Nc7 20. c4! h5? 21.  Be3 h4 22.  g×h4 Bg4 23.  B×c5 Ne6 24.  Be3 Nd4 25. B×d4 B×d4† 26. Kh1 R×h4? 27. Q×e7 Bf6 28. Q×f7 B×f3 29. R×f3 Rdh8 30. h3 Qc6 31. d4 R4h7 32. Q×g6 Rg7 33.  Qc2 B×d4 34.  Rg3 Qe6 35.  Qd1 Rd7 36.  Bd5 Qf6 37. Rab3 Bc5 38. Qf3 Qd4 Threatening the clever sacrifice 39. … R×h3†. 39. Qg4 Re7 40. Kh2? Steinitz afterwards pointed out that he could have effected mate in a few moves by 40.  Qg8† R×g8 (best) 41.  R×g8† Kc7 42.  R×b7† Kd6 43. Rg6† etc. 40. … Bd6? 40. … a6 (Tarrasch) would give Black good drawing chances. 41. Qg8† 1–0

522. Steinitz–A. Schwarz Vienna international (16), 30 May 1882 French Defense (C00) Bachmann (game 421); Bijl (game 141), pages 205–206, has notes compiled from C.P.C., T.C.M., and D.S.Z., XXXVII (July 1882), page 213. The summary of this game, from The Field, of 10 June, said: Steinitz … confined himself in the development chiefly to operations with his Q Kt before bringing out his QB…. White brought his Q Kt via Q2, QB4 and K3 to K Kt4, where he expected the exchange of the Kt for the KB, and then commenced an attack on the K side, while his development on the Q side also gave him the superiority on that wing, with the rooks doubled on the open QB file. He finally broke through on the K side with an offered sacrifice of a R for the KRP, which made Black’s game untenable in a few moves. Duration, 4 hours.

1. e4 e6 2. e5?! This is one of Steinitz’s experiments that have not stood the test of time, although he played it in several games in the tournament and other competitors also tried it. 2. … c5 3. f4 Nc6 4. Nf3 Nh6 This was mostly played at Vienna, but Winawer tried 4. … f6 unsuccessfully in Game 518, while 4. … b6 was seen in Meitner–Schwarz and in two Steinitz–Sellman games from their match in America later that year. 5. g3 Instead 5. Be2 was played in Fleissig–Mason, and 5. Bb5 in Winawer–Schwarz, but it is consistent to post

the bishop on the long diagonal and support the f-pawn at the same time. 5. … Be7 For 5. … b6 see Game 519; 5. … f6 6. e×f6 Q×f6 was also quite good for Black in Meitner–Blackburne. 6. Bg2 0–0 7. d3 f6?! This proves a weakness in the long run. The central situation needed to be tackled differently. Throughout this game it is fairly apparent to modern eyes that Steinitz knows what he is trying to do while his opponent has no clue. 7. … d5 looks the correct way for Black to handle this position. 7. … d6 would also be better than the text. 8. e×f6 B×f6 9. 0–0 Nf7 10. c3 Rb8? The Schachzeitung thought it would have been good to play 10. … d5 immediately, followed by …e5. If Steinitz then continued 11. Na3 it would be premature to reply 11. … e5 on account of 12. f×e5 followed by 13. N×e5 and the Black d-pawn has become a target for the fianchettoed bishop. 11.  Na3 b6 12. Nc2 Bb7 13. Ne3 d5 14. Ng4 e5 15. N×f6† g×f6 15. … Q×f6 loses material after 16. f×e5 for if 16. … Nf×e5 17. N×e5 Q×e5 18. Bf4. 16. Nh4 Steinitz opens the way for his queen as well as eyeing the f5-square. He wants to see how Black replies before deciding whether to capture on e5. 16. … Ne7 17. f×e5 f×e5 18. Qg4† Kh8 19. Qh5 Qe8 20. d4!? Not bad, but 20. Bh6! wins at least a pawn and simplifies, while 20. Bg5 is also unpleasant for Black. 20. … Ba6 21. Re1 c×d4 22. c×d4 e4 23. Bf4 Rd8 24. Rac1 White now clearly has a winning position again. 24. … Kg8 25. Rc7!? Steinitz continues to play his attack positionally rather than risk any miscalculation. 25. R×e4! Rc8 (25. … d×e4 26. B×e4) 26. Rce1 is the computer’s choice. 25. … Nh8 26. Qg5† Nhg6 27. R×a7 Bd3 28. Rc1 Nc6 29. R×h7! Steinitz can no longer resist playing a flashy crowd-pleasing move, but it is not the only way to win. 29. … R×f4 30. Rh6 Rd6 31. N×g6 1–0

523. B. Englisch–Steinitz Vienna international (17), 31 May 1882 Ruy Lopez (C70) Bachmann (game 422); Oesterreichische Lesehalle, IV (May 1884), pages 149–150; Bijl (game 149), page 219. The Field said: Englisch attacked with the Ruy Lopez, which Steinitz defended, as all along in this tournament, by 3. … a6 and 4. … Nge7. The second player had slightly the advantage on the Queenside after the development, but missed, after repelling a counter attack on the Kingside, at the decisive moment winning a clear pawn, when he effected an exchange of pieces, which left him a little the better ending, on account of Knight against Queen’s Bishop and a weak adverse d-pawn on a white square at d5. Englisch defended the difficult ending in a masterly manner, and succeeded in dissolving pawns on the Queenside, at the expense of a pawn on the Kingside. He then effected an exchange of Rooks, and defended himself tenaciously with two pawns against three, and the game ended in a draw, after 5 and a quarter hours’ play and 81 moves.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nge7 5. d4 e×d4 6. N×d4 N×d4 7. Q×d4 b5 8. Bb3 d6 9. c3 c5 10. Qd1 Bb7 11. Bc2 Ng6 12. 0–0 Be7 13. a4 0–0 14. Be3 Qb6 15. Nd2

11. A Champion Returns—and Departs, 1882 Qc6 16. a×b5 a×b5 17. R×a8 R×a8 18. c4 Bf6 19. c×b5 Q×b5 20.  Bb3 Qb4 21.  Qc2 Ne5 22.  Bd5 B×d5 23.  e×d5 Qb7 24. Ne4 Be7 25. Rd1 f6 26. h3 Rb8 27. f4 Nd7 28. Bc1 Qa6 29. Nc3 Nf8 30. Re1 Rb7 31. Qf5 Ra7 32. Qe4 Bd8 33. Qe8 Ba5 34. Bd2 Qd3 35. Qe3 Q×e3† 36. R×e3 B×c3 37. B×c3 Kf7 38. b4 Re7 39. Kf2 Ng6 40. b×c5 d×c5 41. Bd2 Rd7 42. Rc3 R×d5 43. Be3 Ke6 44. R×c5 R×c5 45. B×c5 N×f4 46. Kf3 Nd3 47. Bf8 Ne5† 48. Ke2 g6 49. Bc5 Kf5 50. Bf2 Ke4 51. Bg3 f5 52. Bf2 f4 53. Bb6 Nc4 54. Bc7 Ne3 55. Kf2 Nf5 56. Bd8 Nd4 57. Bb6 Ne6 58. Ba5 Nd4 59. Bb6 Nf5 60. Bc7 Ne3 61. Bb6 Nc4 62. Bc7 Nd2 63. Bb6 h5 64. Bd8 Nc4 65. Bc7 Ne5 66. Bb8 f3 67. g×f3† N×f3 68. Kg3 Ne5 69. Bc7 g5 70. Bd8 Kf5 71. Bc7 Nd3 72. Bd8 Nf4 73. Bc7 h4† 74. Kh2 Ke4 75. Bb8 Kf3 76. Bd6 Kf2 77. Bc5† Kf1 78. Be7 Ne6 79. Bf6 Kf2 80. Be5 Ke2 81. Bf6 ½–½ At the halfway stage, Mackenzie led with 12½ points with Winawer at 12 and Steinitz 11½, all of whom were well ahead of the chasing group: Blackburne and Mason 10, followed by Englisch, Hruby, and Zukertort on 9½. Dr. Josef Noa, although he had 9 points, now withdrew, “called away by judicial duties that could not be neglected.”22 This was a setback for those whom he had beaten, since he had played half his games and so his results stood. Steinitz was doing remarkably well, considering that this was his first tournament for nine years and that he was also writing extensive reports for The Field. The second cycle of the tournament began without a break and in the first game (round 18) Blackburne obtained his revenge against Steinitz. The halfway leader Mackenzie gradually fell back, and the players with the best score in the second half of the tournament were Mason and Zukertort with 13 points each, followed by Steinitz with 12½, Winawer 12, and then Blackburne and Paulsen with 11½. On the aggregate scores of the two cycles, Steinitz and Winawer came out on top with 24 points. Steinitz lost the first play-off game to Winawer but by winning the second he forced a tie and the first two prizes were shared between them. Third was Mason with 23 points, followed by Mackenzie and Zukertort at 22½, and Blackburne took sixth prize (worth £16 in English money) with 21½, two points clear of the next competitor. There could be no doubt that these top six formed the elite of their day. Four of them were then based in London while Mackenzie was a fairly frequent visitor.

524. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Vienna international (18), 1 June 1882 Ruy Lopez (C70) Bachmann (game 423); Blackburne (game 359); Graham (game 26); The Chess-Monthly, III (July 1882), pages 339–340; D.S.Z. (July 1882), pages 218–221; ChessBase also has the extra moves, citing Bijl (which has notes by Van Wijgerden). The Field (10 June) summarized as follows:

293

Blackburne … ingeniously abandoned the KP and castled early. Steinitz did not accept the offer, which would have given him at once the much inferior game…. Steinitz committed an error of judgment in moving the wrong R… to K sq… and his pieces became packed up in such a manner that Blackburne could well afford to give up the KP, which Steinitz at last gained at the expense of being subjected to a vehement attack on the Q side…. [When] White played Qh3 Steinitz completely overlooked the ingenious device….

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nge7 5. d4 e×d4 6. N×d4 N×d4 7. Q×d4 b5 8. Bb3 d6 9. c3 c5 10. Qd1 Bb7 11. 0–0 Qd7 12. Re1 c4 13. Bc2 Ng6 14. Nd2 Be7 15. Nf1 0–0 16. Qh5 Rae8?! 17. Ng3 Bd8 18. Nf5 f6 19. a4! d5 20. a×b5 a×b5 21. Be3 d×e4 22. Red1 Qc7 23. Qh3!? Stockfish says 23. Ra7 is even stronger. 23. … Re5? 23. … Ne5 was necessary as Steinitz said; now Black loses his queen. 24. Rd7! Q×d7 25. Nh6† Graham ends here but additional moves were probably played, as contemporary sources all seem to agree: 25. … g×h6 26. Q×d7 Bd5 27. B×h6 1–0 In round 19, on 2 June, Steinitz (who had been due to play Black) won by forfeit against Dr. Josef Noa, who had withdrawn.

525. Steinitz–G. H. Mackenzie Vienna international (20), 3 June 1882 English Opening (A13) Bachmann (game 424); Bijl (game 172), pages 247–248; Pritchett (game 15), page 116. The Field said: In the 20th round Steinitz opened with the English game, 1.  c4, against Mackenzie, who allowed his d-pawn to be isolated on the 5th move. White’s attack was directed against that weak spot, while Black, after many defensive maneuvers on the Queenside, attempted a diversion on the other wing. On the 21st move Mackenzie prematurely sacrificed a piece. His opponent proved the incorrectness of the venture by first exchanging an important adverse Knight. Mackenzie elected to fight out with a piece minus for two pawns in the ending, and he exchanged Queens. The pawns fell, however, rapidly, and Mackenzie resigned on the 33rd move. Duration, 3 and a half hours.

1. c4 e6 2. e3 c5 3. d4 d5 4. d×c5 B×c5 5. c×d5 e×d5 6. Nf3 Nc6 7. Bd3 Nf6 8. 0–0 0–0 9. Nbd2 Bb6 10. a3 Ne7 11. b4 Bf5 12. Nb3 Ne4 13. Bb2 Ng6 14. Nfd4 Bd7 15. Rc1 Rc8 16.  R×c8 B×c8 17.  Qc2 Qe7 18.  Rc1 f5 19.  Nc5 B×c5!? 20. b×c5 f4 21. Qb3 N×f2? 22. B×g6 Q×e3?! 23. Q×e3 f×e3 24. Bb1 Bg4 25. Re1 Nd1 26. Ba1 e2 27. N×e2 Ne3 28. Ng3 Nc4 29. Re7 Rf7 30. Re8† Rf8 31. B×h7† Kf7 32. Bg6† Kg8 33. Re7 1–0

526. J. H. Zukertort–Steinitz Vienna international (21), 5 June 1882 Three Knights’ Game (C46) Bachmann (game 425); Bijl (game 185), pages 264–267. The Field (17 June) said: Zukertort, against Steinitz, opened with both Knights after 1. e4 e5 on both sides. Steinitz also brought out both Knights, and then developed with the King’s fianchetto. In the early part Steinitz obtained

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the attack by retreating his Queen’s Knight to e7, and then advancing 8.  … d5, and he ultimately gained a clear pawn, but played rather feebly after obtaining the advantage. He finally forced an ending, in which Zukertort could have secured a drawish position sooner, though a pawn behind, if he had exchanged Bishops. But he allowed his King to be subjected to an attack, and on the 34th move Steinitz checked with the Rook at h2, followed by 35. … Rh5, and the game was soon, on the 36th move, abandoned as drawn.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 g6 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 Bg7 6. Be3 Nf6 7. f3 Ne7 8. Bc4 d5 9. e×d5 Nf×d5 10. N×d5 N×d5 11. Bf2 Nf4 12. 0–0 0–0 13. c3 Qg5 14. Bg3 Nh5 15. f4 Qc5 16. Qb3 N×g3 17. h×g3 B×d4† 18. c×d4 Q×d4† 19. Kh2 Bg4 20. Rae1 b5 21. Q×b5 Rab8 22. Qc6 Bd7 23. Qd5 Q×d5 24. B×d5 R×b2 25. Re7 Bb5 26. Rf3 c6 27. Bb3 a5 28. a4 Be2 29. Rc3 Bf1 30. Bc2 Rd8 31. R×c6 Rd2 32. Be4 B×g2 33. B×g2 R×g2† 34. Kh3 Rh2† The Field: “It was pointed out by several competitors that he would have won here by 34. … h5. White then had nothing better than 35. Kh4 and Black would win easily by moving 35. … Kg7 with the view of entering accordingly at h6 or f6. If White, in answer to Black’s King move, played 36. Re8 then the game was equally won by the reply 36. … Rb3.” 35. Kg4 Rh5 36. Rf6 ½–½ White’s last move is not in Bachmann or Pickard but is in the tournament book, following Zukertort’s notes for T.C.M.

527. Steinitz–V. Hruby Vienna international (22), 6 June 1882 Salvio Gambit (C37) Bachmann (game 426); Bijl (game 194), pages 275–278. Hruby, well-prepared, surprised Steinitz in the opening and won the exchange, but he was unable to exploit his advantage in the complicated middle-game. Eventually, as The Field said, “…by an unsound sacrifice of a pawn on the part of Hruby White made his game secure, and effected an entrance of his Knight at e6, which paralysed the action of both hostile Rooks. Hruby moved backwards and forwards with the object of drawing the game.” Then at move 43 Steinitz’s opponent blundered a pawn followed by a whole rook.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 g4 5. Ne5 Qh4† 6. Kf1 Nc6! Steinitz wrote: “This powerful move is the invention of Dr. Herzfeld, of Vienna, and its consequences have been specially worked out by Herr Englisch.” Steinitz never repeated the Salvio in a serious contest and he recommended 6. … Nc6 in his International Chess Magazine in 1885. The gambit soon disappeared from practice after this, but computer analysis may possibly overturn some of the old judgments. 7. Q×g4?! The critical move is 7. N×f7 but Black has several promising replies, including 7. … Bc5 when 8. Qe1 g3 9. N×h8 Bf2 10. Qd1 Nf6 is considered the main line. Also 7. B×f7† Kd8 is more dangerous to White than Black. 7. … Q×g4 8. N×g4 d5 9. e×d5 Nd4 White now cannot avoid the loss of material, although Steinitz somehow managed to win

by gradually outplaying his opponent from a lost endgame. 10. Ne5 Bd6 11. Nf3 N×c2 12. b3 N×a1 13. Bb2 f6 14. B×a1 Kf7 15. Nc3 Nh6 16. Ne4 Ng4 17. Nd4 Ne5 18. Kf2 Re8 19. N×d6† c×d6 20. Nb5 Rd8 21. d4 Ng6 22. h4 a6 23. Nc3 h5 24. Bd3 Bg4 25. Ne4 Rac8 26. Bc3 Ne7 27. Ba5 Rd7 28. Bb4 Nf5 29. Bd2 Ne3 30. B×e3 f×e3† 31. K×e3 Re8 32. Rf1 f5 33. Kd2 Kg6 34. Ng5 Rde7 35. Ne6 Kf6 36. Rc1 Rb8 37. a4 Rbe8 38. a5 Rg8 39. Nf4 Rge8 40. Ne6 Rg8 41. Rc4 Rge8 42. Rb4 Rd7 43. Rb6 Rb8? Black should play 43. … Ke7. Bachmann gives 43. … Rh8 here but the tournament book shows the game ended: 44. Nc5 Rbd8 45. N×b7 Rb8? 46. Nc5 Rdd8 47. R×b8 R×b8 48. Nd7† 1–0

528. Steinitz–P. Ware Vienna international (23), 7 June 1882 Scandinavian Defense (B01) Bachmann (game 427); Bijl (game 202), pages 289–290. Steinitz wrote: Ware defended 1. … d5 against 1. e4. Steinitz soon obtained the attack in the center, and, by a hidden maneuver of the Bishop, won the Queen against one single piece. Ware, as is his wont, obstinately played on until he was mated on the 34th move. Duration, one and three-quarters of an hour.

1. e4 d5 2. e×d5 Q×d5 3. Nc3 Qe5† 4. Be2 c6 5. d4 Qc7 6. Nf3 Bf5 7. d5 Bd7 8. 0–0 e6 9. d×e6 B×e6 10. Ng5 Qd7 11. N×e6 Q×e6 12. Bg4 Qg6 13. Re1† Be7 14. Ne4 h5 15. Bf5 Qh6 16. B×h6 R×h6 17. Bc8 Na6 18. B×b7 Rd8 19. Qe2 Nc7 20. Qc4 Kf8 21. Rad1 Rb8 22. B×c6 g5 23. Rd7 Ne6 24. Ng3 Rb4 25. Qa6 Rf4 26. Bd5 Bc5 27. Qc8† Kg7 28. R×e6 B×f2† 29.  Kh1 h4 30.  Re8 Ne7 31.  Rd×e7 h×g3 32.  Rg8† Kf6 33. Qc6† K×e7 34. Re8 mate (1–0). In round 24, played on 9 June, Steinitz (who had been due to play Black) scored by forfeit against Bernhard Fleissig, who had withdrawn.

529. Steinitz–A. Wittek Vienna international (25), 10 June 1882 Queen’s Gambit (D55) Bachmann (game 428); Bijl (game 223), page 304. As Lehner said, Black’s 19th move was a bad oversight which cost his queen but Wittek’s position was already under a lot of pressure.

1. d4 e6 2. c4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 b6 6. Nf3 0–0 7. Qb3 d×c4 8. B×c4 Bb7 9. 0–0 Nbd7 10. Rfd1 Rc8 11. Rac1 Qe8 12. Bf4 a6 13. a4 c5 14. d5 e×d5 15. N×d5 Rc6 16. e4 Bd8 17. Re1 Nh5 18. e5 Rg6 19. Bd2 Qe6?? 20. Nf6† g×f6 21. B×e6 f×e6 22. Q×e6† Kh8 23. Nh4 1–0

530. Dr. P. Meitner–Steinitz Vienna international (26), 12 June 1882 Scotch Game (C45) Bachmann (game 429); Bijl (game 231), page 319. The Field (24 June) said:

11. A Champion Returns—and Departs, 1882 Steinitz defended the Scotch game against Meitner with 4. … Qh4, followed by 5. … Bb4† against 5. Ndb5. He kept his pawn, and soon obtained the counter attack, whereby he won a second pawn. Steinitz having castled on the Kingside while his opponent took refuge opposite, the former directed a menacing attack against the exposed adverse King, whereupon Meitner resigned. Duration, 2 hours; 21 moves.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Qh4 5. Nb5 Bb4† 6. c3 Q×e4† 7. Be3 Ba5 8. Nd2 Qg6 9. b4 a6 10. Na3 Bb6 11. B×b6 c×b6 12. Ndc4 b5 13. Ne3 Nge7 14. c4 Qf6 15. Nac2 N×b4 16. Qd2 N×c2† 17. N×c2 b×c4 18. B×c4 d5 19. 0–0–0 Be6 20. Bb3 0–0 21. f4 Rfc8 0–1

531. M. I. Chigorin–Steinitz Vienna international (27), 13 June 1882 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 430); Bijl (game 237), pages 326–328. This was the first of many encounters between these players in the Evans Gambit. Not counting consultation games, the Russian master won 12 and lost six with five draws. There is some doubt about how this game finished. The Field’s summary to this game began: Steinitz defended the Evans Gambit against Tschigorin [sic] in a novel manner, by retreating the B right back to B sq on the 5th move. He, however, committed the error of judgment of subsequently posting his Q at K2 instead of at B3. His development was much hampered in consequence, and Tschigorin, who played exceedingly well, obtained a powerful attack on the open Q file, which ended in his recovering the P with a superior game. Tschigorin then assailed in the centre and on the Q wing in a vigorous manner and in very fine style. He temporarily gave up a piece, coming out with a pawn plus, and then doubled the Rooks, threatening to sacrifice the Queen for one of the hostile Rooks, which would have left him in the ending with a Rook and two passed pawns against two Bishops, one of which would have to fall for one of the pawns. Steinitz elected to give up two minor pieces for a Rook at once, and to leave Queens unchanged. He, however, could only prolong the game thereby, and Tschigorin, who played with great care and caution, finally effected exchanges of all pieces, which left him with a clear winning pawn majority.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bf8 Steinitz never repeated this in any serious game. 6. d4 Qe7 7. 0–0 d6 8. Qb3 g6 9. d×e5 d×e5 10. Rd1! Bh6 11. Nbd2 Qf6 12. Ba3 Nge7 13. Bd5 0–0 14. B×c6 b×c6 15. Qb4 c5 16.  c5 Nc6 17.  Nc4 Re8 18.  Nd6!? c×d6 19.  Q×c6 Bg4? 20.  R×d6 Qg7 21.  Rad1 Bg5 If 21.  … Rac8? 22.  Q×c8! 22. N×g5 B×d1 23. R×d1 Rac8 24. Qa4 Qf6 25. Nf3 Qe6 26. Rd5 Qb6 27. Bb4 Re6 28. N×e5 Rce8 29. Rd6! Qb8 30. Nd7 Qd8 31. e5 a5 32. Ba3 R×d6 33. B×d6 Re6 34. h3 Qg5 35. f4 Qg3 36. Nc5 R×d6 37. e×d6 Qe3† 38. Kh2 Q×c5 39. Qe8† 1–0. Grekov’s book, which used to be considered the standard authority on the Russian master, says Black resigned here; he cited notes by Chigorin and Zukertort in The ChessMonthly.23 If Black did not resign he must have played the only legal move 39. … Kg7, but what was then the reply?

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Steinitz’s description seems to indicate 40. Qe5† Q×e5 41. f×e5 1–0 (which ChessBase gives). On the other hand, Bachmann gives 40. d7 1–0, as do Bijl, Hooper, and Pickard.

532. M. Weiss–Steinitz Vienna international (28), 14 June 1882 Ruy Lopez (C70) Bachmann (game 431); Bijl (game 244), page 326. The Field said: Weiss adopted the Ruy Lopez against Steinitz, and the first half of the game was continued nearly in the same manner as the second game between Blackburne and Steinitz in this tournament. The maneuvering ended in Black breaking through in the Queen’s center and directing an attack against the hostile King, which Weiss defended with great care and ingenuity. Steinitz had still some chance of success, but, on the 34th move, he made an incautious advance of his f-pawn instead of first strengthening his attack by 34. … Rf8, and the exchange of Queens was forced, whereupon the game was drawn by mutual consent.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nge7 5. d4 e×d4 6. N×d4 N×d4 7. Q×d4 b5 8. Bb3 d6 9. c3 c5 10. Qd1 Bb7 11. 0–0 c4 12. Bc2 Ng6 13. Re1 Be7 14. Nd2 0–0 15. Nf1 Re8 16. Ng3 Bf6 17. Be3 b4 18. Bd4 a5 19. Nf5 d5 20. e×d5 Q×d5 21. f3 R×e1† 22. Q×e1 B×d4† 23. N×d4 Nf4 24. Rd1 Qg5 25. Qg3 Qf6 26. Bf5 g5 27. Kh1 Rd8 28. Bc2 h5 29. h4 g4 30.  Re1 Kh8 31.  Be4 B×e4 32.  R×e4 Nd3 33.  Kh2 Qg6 34. Re2 f5 35. Qc7 ½–½ Round 29 was the first that Bird defaulted, “who was unfortunately laid up with the gout” according to Steinitz. The next game was crucial for the outcome of the tournament because both players had chances to win it, and there would have been no play-off in that case.

533. S. Winawer–Steinitz Vienna international (29), 15 June 1882 Three Knights’ Game (C46) Bachmann (game 432); Bijl (game 253), pages 343–346. Steinitz wrote notes for The Field, 22 July 1882—the last of his own games he annotated in that column. A few quotations have been selected but in the difficult middle-game from move 30 onwards computer analysis tells a different story from his analysis. In the introduction to round 29 on 24 June Steinitz summarized the game thus: … After castling on the Q side, Winawer, in an ingenious manner, broke through by offering to give up the QP, in order to obtain a powerful attack in the centre. Steinitz was then kept on the defensive for a long time, and in fact had a lost game at one point. But Winawer, under pressure of time limit, overlooked the winning process, and his opponent was enabled to exchange one Rook with the better game. The latter then commenced an attack with his pawns on the Queen’s side, where White’s King stood … [Steinitz] failed at the critical moment to hit at the right checking process, and Winawer, who defended with great ingenuity, was able to … creep with his K into security.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 g6 In his later notes, he said:

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Steinitz in London

“Steinitz almost invariably favored this defense in preference to others in this and previous tournaments. He first adopted it against Paulsen in the Baden Congress.” 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. a3 d6 6. d3 h6 7. h3 f5 8. Bd2 Nf6 9. Qe2 f4 10. 0–0–0 a6 11. d4 “This very fine maneuver which Black had completely overlooked, gives White a manifest mastery of position, which Herr Winawer skillfully retains for a long time.” 11. … Nh5 12.  d×e5 N×e5 13.  Nd5 Rf8 14.  Ba5 Rf7 15.  Bc3 N×c4 16. Q×c4 Kf8 17. B×g7† K×g7 18. Qd4† Kh7 19. e5 Qf8 20.  Nc3 d×e5 21.  N×e5 Rg7 22.  Ng4 Rf7 23.  Rhe1 Bf5 24.  Re5 Rd7 25.  Nd5 Rad8 26.  c4 B×g4 27.  h×g4 Ng7 28. Qe4 Steinitz blamed the time limit, saying 28. g5 “was the much stronger attacking plan…. Black now releases himself completely, with the much superior game.” Also 28. Re4 would have been very strong. 28. … c6. 29. Nc3 R×d1† 30. N×d1 Qd6 31. Qe2 b5 32. c5?! White still has an edge with 32. Nc3. 32. … Qd4 33. Nc3 a5 34. Kc2 Rd7 35. Re4? Overlooking Black’s 36th move; now Steinitz should win. 35. … Q×c5 36. R×f4 Re7! 37. Qd3 b4 38. Rf6 b×c3 38. … Qg5 was afterwards pointed out by Winawer. 39. Q×g6† Kg8 40. R×c6 Q×f2† 41. K×c3 Re3† 42. Kc4 Qe2† “Black had still a won game, but it required more delicate management than he could bestow upon it under time pressure. It will be seen, as is often the case in modern match games, that the play is influenced when the number of moves draws close to a figure divisible by fifteen.” 43. Kd4 Re8 44. Kc3 Rb8 45. b4 a×b4† Steinitz (and Bijl’s annotator) thought this was where he missed the win but computers show the damage was done next move. 46. a×b4 (see diagram)

w4wDwDkD DwDwDwhw wDRDwDQ0 DwDwDwDw w)wDwDPD DwIwDwDw wDwDqDPD DwDwDwDw

After 46. a×b4

44. … Qe3†? The computer indicates 46. … Qe1†!! After that, with precise play, Black can win although he no longer has a queenside pawn. 47. Qd3 Qc1† 48. Qc2 Qf4 49. Qb3† Kh7 50. Qc4 Qc1† 51. Kb3 Qb1† 52. Kc3 Rd8 53. Qf4 The Field said: “This excellent ‘coup’ forces the draw. Herr Winawer has defended this extremely difficult game most ingeniously and with extraordinary patience.” Engines, and Magnus Carlsen, would still try to win this position. 53. … Qa1† 54. Kc4 Qa2† 55. Kb5 ½–½

534. Steinitz–B. Englisch Vienna international (30), 16 June 1882 Nimzo-Indian Defense by transposition (E22)

Bachmann (game 433); Bijl (game 266), pages 358–359, has notes by the editor. The Field said: Englisch defended the Queen’s Gambit against Steinitz in an original manner. After checking with the Bishop at b4, and compelling the Knight to interpose, he brought out the Queen’s Knight to c6 without advancing the c-pawn. After castling on the Kingside and exchanging the King’s Bishop for the Queen’s Knight, he played …b7–b6, followed by …a7–a5, …Ba6, …Rac8 and …c7–c5. A general exchange was systematically forced by Englisch, and a simple position left, which both consented to draw on the 20th move, though Rooks, Queens, and one piece on each side remained on the board. Duration, 2 hours.

1. d4 e6 2. c4 Bb4† 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Qb3 Nc6 5. Nf3 d5 6. e3 0–0 7. a3 B×c3† 8. Q×c3 Ne7 9. Bd3 b6 10. 0–0 a5 11. b3 Ba6 12. Nd2 Rc8 13. Rd1 c5 14. d×c5 R×c5 15. Bb2 d×c4 16. N×c4 Qc7 17. Qd2 Ng4 18. f4 B×c4 19. b×c4 Nf5 20. Bd4 ½–½

535. A. Schwarz–Steinitz Vienna international (31), 17 June 1882 Three Knights’ Game (C46) Bachmann (game 434); Bijl (game 273), pages 365–366 has notes by Van Wijgerden. The Field said: In a Four [sic] Knights’ game between Schwarz and Steinitz, the latter developed his King’s Bishop by the way of a King’s fianchetto, and soon after the opening moves he obtained the attack on the Queenside, where Schwarz had castled. His pawns at last forced a winning breach on the b-file, and, mate being inevitable, Schwarz resigned after 2 and a half hours play on the 29th move.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 g6 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. d3 d6 6. Be3 Nf6 7.  Qe2 0–0 8.  0–0–0 a6 9.  Kb1 b5 10.  Bd5 N×d5 11. N×d5 Nd4 12. B×d4 e×d4 13. Qd2 c6 14. Nf4 Qf6 15. Ne2 c5 16. h3 Bb7 17. Nc1 a5 18. Rde1 Rfe8 19. Ne2 a4 20. Qf4 Qd8 21. g4 Qb6 22. Ng3 c4 23. Ne2 Qc5 24. Qc1 c3 25. b×c3 d×c3 26. Ka1 b4 27. Qe3 Qa5 28. Ned4 b3 29. Kb1 Qb4 0–1

536. J. Mason–Steinitz Vienna international (32), 19 June 1882 Giuoco Piano (C50) Bachmann (game 435); Bijl (game 280), pages 369–373. The Field said: Mason opened against Steinitz with a Giuoco piano, and the latter effected the doubling of the e-pawn by exchanging Bishops, and of the b-pawn by exchanging Queen’s Knight for the adverse Bishop. Mason pressed an attack on the Kingside with a Queen at h6 and the two Rooks on the open f-file, followed by the advance of the two pawns on the King’s wing. Steinitz directed his attention to the Queenside, but broke up the pawns in that quarter too early, and after that wing had been cleared, his position remained inferior on the Kingside, though he ultimately won a pawn; for Mason had Queen’s Rook and Knight against Queen’s Rook and Bishop, the former’s King being perfectly safe, while Steinitz was constantly exposed to mating positions or to the loss of the Queen. His defense became very difficult, and he was reduced to fighting for a draw, until he was enabled to exchange Queens and Rooks; after which both parties obtained two passed pawns, and an extremely interesting ending ensued. Mason at last forced the gain of a piece for two pawns, and then drew easily

11. A Champion Returns—and Departs, 1882 with the Knight against adverse two pawns. Duration, 8 hours and 74 moves.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. d3 Nf6 5. Nc3 d6 6. Be3 B×e3 7.  f×e3 Na5 8.  Bb3 c6 9.  0–0 0–0 10.  Qe1 N×b3 11. a×b3 Ne8 12. Qg3 g6 13. Ng5 f6 14. Nf3 Ng7 15. Qh4 Be6 16. Qh6 a5 17. h3 b5 18. g4 Qb6 19. Rf2 Ra7 20. Raf1 Raf7 21. Nd1 a4 22. b×a4 b×a4 23. Rg2 c5 24. c4 Qb3 25. Rd2 Ra8 26. Ne1 Ne8 27. g5 a3 28. b×a3 R×a3 29. g×f6 Ra1 30. Nf2 N×f6 31. Nf3 R×f1† 32. K×f1 N×e4 33. N×e4 R×f3† 34. Kg2 Rf8 35. Ng5 Qb7† 36. e4 Bc8 37. Ra2 Qe7 38. Kg3 Bb7 39. Rg2 Bc8 40. Ra2 Bb7 41. Rb2 Bc6 42. Rb6 Rc8 43. Ra6 Qd7 44. Ra2 Rf8 45. Rg2 Qe7 46. Kh2 Rf6 47. Ra2 Rf8 48. Rb2 Qd7 49. h4 Qe7 50. Rb6 Rc8 51. Ra6 Qd7 52. h5 Qg7 53. Q×g7† K×g7 54. Ra7† Kh6 55. Nf7† K×h5 56. N×d6 Rb8 57. Nf7 Rb7 58. R×b7 B×b7 59. N×e5 Bc8 60. Kg3 Kg5 61. Nf3† Kf6 62. Kf4 h6 63. e5† Ke6 64. d4 g5† 65. Ke4 c×d4 66. N×d4† Kf7 67. c5 h5 68. c6 h4 69. Kf3 Ke7 70.  Kf2 g4 71.  Kg2 Kd8 72.  Kh2 Kc7 73.  e6 B×e6 74. N×e6† K×c6 ½–½ The tournament book and The Field are both silent about an incident described in the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News which arose in the following game, where both Steinitz and his opponent overstepped the time. Mason blamed Steinitz’s intervention for his own loss on time to Bird while MacDonnell would not have needed much encouragement to take the Irish-American master’s side. Presumably the committee could not judge which player had overstepped first and did not wish to score the game 0–0, which would have been unprecedented. To avoid cases like this, the following year in London a double chess clock was first introduced to an international tournament. Blackburne, Mackenzie, and Mason all vouched for the truth of this to MacDonnell, who published it in his column: Mr. Steinitz and Mr. Paulsen in their second game exceeded their time on the twenty-eighth move, thereby entailing the loss of the game upon both of them. The game, however, was continued, and ultimately won by Mr. Steinitz whereupon the committee were petitioned to annul the victory, but they refused to do so, on the ground that the clocks they had used were very cheap and probably had not kept correct time. Now, whilst I honour the committee of the Vienna Tournament for their admirable exertions in the cause of our royal game, whilst I joyfully admit the excellence of their programme, their faithfulness in adhering to it, their munificence, their self-sacrifices, and whilst I congratulate them upon their having organised and carried out the grandest tournament that has ever yet been held, I must take the liberty of asking them whether my story is a plain, unvarnished tale, containing the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth and further, I must ask whether they were unanimous in their decision.24

537. L. Paulsen–Steinitz Vienna international (33), 20 June 1882 Scotch Game (C45) Bachmann (game 436); Lesehalle (March 1886), pages 83–

297

84; Bijl (game 288), pages 379–381; Renette, Louis Paulsen (game 599), page 348. The Field (1 July) said: Paulsen adopted the Scotch game against Steinitz, who defended with 4. … Qh4, and next captured the e-pawn, checking, whereupon Paulsen interposed the Queen’s Bishop at e3. Steinitz remained in a cramped position with his King for a long time, but ultimately, owing to a weak move of his opponent, which enabled him to effect an exchange and to isolate the adverse e-pawn, extricated himself by giving up the pawn plus, and, remaining with a winning position in the ending, which, however, presented great difficulties, as each party had a Rook on the board. The latter having been exchanged, Steinitz ultimately won with a pawn ahead. Duration, 7 hours.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  d4 e×d4 4.  N×d4 Qh4 5.  Nb5 Q×e4† 6. Be3 Qe5 7. Nd2 Kd8 8. c3 Bc5 9. Nc4 Qe7 10. Be2 B×e3 11. N×e3 Nf6 12. 0–0 d6 13. c4 a6 14. Nc3 Qe5 15. Re1 Re8 16. Rc1 Nd4 17. b4 a5 18. b5 c5? 19. b×c6 b×c6 20. h3 Bd7 21. Bf1 Nf5? Objectively, 21. … c5 was essential. Steinitz took many risks in this game which would have been fatal had Paulsen now found 22. N×f5! Q×e1 23. Qb3! (Renette). 22.  Qd2 Now Steinitz seized the initiative. 22.  … Qd4 23.  Bd3 N×e3 24.  f×e3 Qe5 25.  Na4 c5 26.  Nb6 Ra6 27.  N×d7 N×d7 28.  Rb1 Kc7 29.  Qf2 f6 30.  B×h7 Rb6 31.  R×b6 N×b6 32.  Bd3 Qc3 33.  Qf1 Nd7 34.  Kh1 Ne5 35. Rd1 Rb8 36. Qf5 N×d3 37. Q×d3 Q×d3 38. R×d3 Rb1† 39.  Kh2 Rc1 40.  Ra3 Kb6 41.  Rd3 Kc6 42.  Ra3 R×c4 43. R×a5 Rc3 44. e4 g5 45. Ra6† Kd7 46. Ra7† Ke6 47. a4 Rc4 48. Ra8 R×e4 49. Re8† Kd5 50. R×e4 K×e4 51. a5 Kd5 52.  Kg1 f5 53.  g3 c4 54.  Kf2 c3 55.  a6 Kc6 56.  a7 Kb7 57. a8Q† K×a8 58. Ke1 f4 59. g×f4 g×f4 60. h4 f3 61. h5 c2 62. Kd2 f2 0–1 For the last round, Bird rose from his sick bed. He justified this in Modern Chess (pages 27–28) by saying that the committee and other leading prize-winners urged him to do so, although Steinitz protested on the reasonable grounds that Bird had just defaulted five games in a row.

538. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Vienna international (34), 21 June 1882 Dutch Defense (A80) Bachmann (game 437); T.C.M., IV (October 1882), pages 44–46; Bijl (game 297), pages 391–394; Renette, H. E. Bird (game 591), page 287.

1. d4 f5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. Bg5 e6 4. e4 f×e4 5. B×f6 Q×f6 6. N×e4 Qe7 7. c3 d5 8. Ng3 Nc6 9. f4 Bd7 10. Bd3 g6 11. h4 0–0–0 12. Nf3 Qf6 13. Ne2 Bd6 14. g3 Ne7 15. Qd2 h6 16. 0–0–0 Kb8 17. Rdf1 h5 18. b4 Nf5 19. Ne5 Be8 20. Rf3 Qe7 21. Ng1 B×e5?! 22. f×e5 Qd7?! 23. Nh3 Rc8 24. Qg5? a5 25. a3 Rf8 25. … Qa4 (Renette) is certainly more dangerous. 26. Rhf1 Qc6 27. Kb2 Qb6 28. Rc1 Bb5 29. B×f5 e×f5? Heartless Stockfish says Black would be about equal after 29. … g×f5 but Bird wants to give away a pawn. 30. Nf4 Bc4 31. Rf2 c5 32. Q×g6 Rc6 33. d×c5 Qb5 34. Qg7 Rfc8 35. e6 R×c5 36. Qd7 Qb6 37. Rd2 a×b4 38. a×b4 Ra5 39. Kb1 Qe3

Players met twice, except for Noa (who did not play the second cycle at all), Fleissig (who forfeited most of his games in the second cycle), and Bird who forfeited five games because of illness. Play-off match: Steinitz 0 1 Winawer 1 0 (first and second prizes shared).

1+ 1+ 0+ 1+ 1+ 0+ 1+ ½+ ½+ 1+ 0+ 0+ 0+ 0+ ½+ 0+ – ½+ 01 11 11 11 1½ 11 11 11 1½ 00 10 1½ ½– 01 11 • 1– 0– 11 11 0½ 1+ 10 10 11 ½1 ½+ 0+ 01 11 1+ 0+ • 00 ½– 10 11 11 1½ 11 11 11 01 ½1 ½½ 0½ 11 00 ½0 • 1– 10 1– 0– 10 10 ½½ 0½ 10 • ½½ 1½ 01 10 01 00 0½ 00 01 00 1– 0– 1½ • 11 0½ 1½ 01 00 01 10 0½ 00 00 00 00 00 00 0– 1– 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

Steinitz, William Winawer, Szymon A. Mason, James Zukertort, Johannes H. Mackenzie, George H. Blackburne, Joseph H. Englisch, Berthold Paulsen, Louis Wittek, Alexander Weiss, Miksa Hruby, Vincenz Chigorin, Mikhail I. Schwarz, Adolf Meitner, Philipp Bird, Henry E. Ware Jr., Preston Noa, Josef Fleissig, Bernhard

• 0½ ½½ 1½ ½0 01 ½½ 00 10 0½ 10 01 00 00 00 10 0– 0–

½½ 00 • 1½ ½0 ½½ ½½ 00 00 01 10 00 ½0 0½ 1½ 00 1– ½–

0½ 1½ 0½ • ½½ 1½ 1½ 00 00 11 00 10 10 00 0– 00 0– 1–

½1 0½ ½1 ½½ • 01 ½0 0½ ½1 00 00 10 10 00 01 0½ 0– 0–

½½ 11 ½½ 0½ ½1 ½½ • 00 ½1 ½½ ½½ 1½ ½½ 10 00 00 0– ½0

11 10 11 11 1½ 0½ 11 • ½½ ½0 ½0 00 ½0 ½0 ½0 00 ½– ½–

01 1½ 01 01 1½ 11 11 10 01 11 00 11 ½0 11 11 10 01 10 ½0 ½½ ½½ ½½ ½1 ½1 • ½0 01 ½1 • 0½ 10 1½ • 0+ 00 01 ½½ 1½ ½½ ½½ 1½ 00 ½– 1– 10 0½ 11 01 ½– 0– 1– 0– 00 0–

10 11 11 01 01 11 0½ 11 1– 11 10 • 0– 11 00 0½ 1– 10

11 11 ½1 01 01 1½ ½½ ½1 ½½ 0½ ½½ 1+ • ½1 0– ½+ 1– 00

15 6 2 Vienna 1882

1

3

4

5

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

17

1+ 0+ ½+ 0+ 1+ 1+ ½1 ½+ 1+ 1+ 1+ 01 1+ 1+ 01 1+ ½– •

24 24 23 22½ 22½ 21½ 19½ 18½ 18 16½ 16 14 14 13 12 11 9 7

Steinitz in London

16

18

Pts

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40. b×a5 Q×d2 41. Rc2 (see diagram) The Field said “Owing to some feeble play on the part of Steinitz, Bird could have drawn.”

After 41. Rc2

wirDwDwD DpDQDwDw wDwDPDwD )wDpDpDp wDbDwHw) Dw)wDw)w wDR1wDwD DKDwDwDw

41. … Qe1†? Steinitz pointed out 41. … Qd1†! 42. Kb2 (42. Rc1 Qb3†) 42. … Ba2 when, “in view of the threatened mate in two, White has nothing better than 43. Qd6† Ka8 44. Rc1 Qd2† 45. Rc2 Qd1 46. Rc1 drawing by repetition.” (It is also sufficient to reverse the move order with 41. … Ba2† 42. Kb2 Qd1.) Can it be that Bird thought it would be unsporting to end the game in this way or did he play differently because he disliked draws, or thought he could win? 42. Kb2 Q×g3 43. Qd6† Ka8 44. e7 Q×h4 45. Qd7 Rb8 46. e8Q Q×f4 47. Qee7 Ba6 48. Qed6 This is the finish according to T.C.M. but, as Bijl points out, some sources (he means Bachmann), confused by the two White queens, had instead 48. Qdd6 Qf1 49. Qdc7 Qb5† 50. Qb4 arriving at the same position. 48. … Qf1 49. Q7c7 Qb5† 50. Qb4 d4 51. Q×b5 d×c3† 52. R×c3 B×b5 53. Rc5 Bd3 54. Rd5 The Pickard database ends here. 54. … Be4 55. Rd8 R×d8 56. Q×d8† 1–0 After that lucky escape for Steinitz, a two-game play-off was now required, with £70 per game at stake in addition to the normal prizes. In the first game Steinitz repeated his pet line against the French, and Winawer varied his play from their earlier game in the variation. Complications arose almost immediately. This was a chaotic game where both players made early miscalculations; Steinitz missed a winning line and then lost by trying to win a drawn position.

539. Steinitz–S. Winawer First play-off game, Vienna, 23 June 1882 French Defense (C00) Bachmann (game 438); Bijl (game 307), pages 409–411; The Field, 1 July 1882.

1. e4 e6 2. e5 f6 3. d4 c5 4. d×c5 B×c5 5. Nc3 Qc7 6. Bf4?! As Bijl’s annotator Van Wijgerden says, it was a mistake to play tactically against Winawer, be-

11. A Champion Returns—and Departs, 1882 cause Steinitz’s superiority over him was in strategy. 6. … Qb6!? 7. Qd2?! B×f2† 8. Q×f2 Q×b2 9. Kd2 Q×a1 10. Nb5? Na6? 11. Nd6† Kf8 12. B×a6 b×a6 13. Qc5 Ne7 14. Ne2?! 14. e×f6 should win. 14. … Q×h1 15. e×f6 g×f6 16. Bh6†? 16. Qh5 Ng6 17. Qh6† would draw. 16. … Kg8 17. Qd4?? Steinitz said he might have drawn by 17. Ne4 Kf7 18. Nd6† repeating, and although his analysis of Black’s unclear alternative 17. … Q×h2 was unconvincing, it does appear to be about equal. 17.  … Q×h2 18.  Bf4 Qh5 19.  Q×f6 Nd5 20. Qd8† Kg7 21. Qa5 N×f4 22. Qc3† e5 23. N×f4 Qg5 24. g3 Rf8 25. Ne4 Qe7 26. Nd5 Qe6 27. Nc7 Qh6† 0–1 In the second game, Winawer made the psychological mistake of playing for a draw. In the crucial diagram position below, he missed at least one decisive attacking continuation because he wanted to avoid complications. Although the move he played was strong, he soon frittered away his advantage and then fell into a difficult endgame, which he lost. Therefore the play-off was tied 1–1.

540. S. Winawer–Steinitz Second play-off game, Vienna, 24 June 1882 Three Knights’ Game (C46) Bachmann (game 439); Bijl (game 308), pages 413–417; The Field, 1 July 1882; T.C.M., III (August 1882), pages 360–362.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 g6 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 Bg7 6. N×c6 b×c6 7. Bd3 Ne7 8. 0–0 d6 9. Qe1 0–0 10. f3 h6 11. Be3 Kh7 12. Qd2 f5 13. Rae1 f×e4 14. f×e4 R×f1† 15. R×f1 Be6 16. Ne2 c5 17. Nf4 Bg8 (see diagram)

rDw1wDbD 0w0whwgk wDw0wDp0 Dw0wDwDw wDwDPHwD DwDBGwDw P)P!wDP) DwDwDRIw

After 17. … Bg8

This position was discussed further in volume 4 of The Chess-Monthly in its March and April 1883 numbers. On page 224, the editors replied to a correspondent, J. B. of Blackburn, that 18. Nh5 “was already suggested at the time of play by some of the experts present, but dismissed as unsound.” But if correctly followed up, there is probably no defense. 18. b3!? Qd7 19. Rf3 White could still force events by 19. e5! B×e5 20. h4 Kh8 (else h4–h5 comes) 21. N×g6† N×g6 22. B×g6 Qg7 23. h5 Bc3 24. Qd3 when defense may be possible, but will be very hard. 19.  … Rf8 20.  Rh3 Bf7 21.  Nd5 h5! 22.  N×e7 Q×e7 23.  Rf3 Kg8 24.  Bg5 Qe5 25.  Bh6 Re8 26. B×g7 K×g7 27. Qf4? Steinitz wrote: “Herr Winawer sub-

299

sequently admitted that he had ignored the effect of Black’s next move after exchanging.” 27.  … Q×f4 28.  R×f4 c4 29. b×c4 Re5 30. Rf1 Rc5 31. Kf2 B×c4 32. Ke3 Be6 33. Rb1 Kf6 Despite White’s weak pawns, his position is not lost, but it is essential in such positions to use one’s rooks actively; therefore 34. Rb7! (as given in Bijl) was mandatory and White should have enough counterplay. 34. a3? Ra5 35. Ra1 Ke5 36. h3 Ra4 37. c3 Bc4 38. Bc2 Ra6 39. g4 h4 40. a4 Rb6 41. Rb1 R×b1 42. B×b1 Bf1 43. Kf3 g5 44. Ba2 c6 45. Bf7 Bd3 46. Kf2 Kf4 47. a5 B×e4 48. Bc4 d5 49. Ba6 c5 50. Bc8 c4 At this point Pickard’s book and database go wrong, with a continuation starting 51. Be6. The correct finish was: 51. a6 Ke5 52. Bd7 d4 53. c×d4† K×d4 54. Ke2 Bd3† 55. Ke1 c3 56. Bc8 Ke3 57. Kd1 Kf2 58. Bf5 B×a6 59. Kc2 Bf1 60. K×c3 B×h3 61. Kd4 Bg2 62. Ke5 h3 63. Kf6 h2 64. K×g5 h1Q 65. Kf6 Kf3 66. g5 Kf4 0–1 Steinitz had defended well, but also been lucky. He and Winawer therefore divided first and second prizes, worth £170 each (including the bonuses for winning play-off games). In his final report in The Field on 1 July, Steinitz wrote that one reason why “general tournaments, though they are an excellent school for rising young players, will not afford such a criterion of strength as set matches” is that risks taken to avoid draws in individual encounters can lead to upsets. He said Winawer only took risks against weaker players, whom he “outwits by his superior grasp of the game,” while playing for draws against his top rivals. Steinitz would have preferred a play-off on the old system of the first to score two wins. The prizegiving was held at the Kahlenberg villa, in the Vienna woods, on Monday, 26 June 1882. Baron Kolisch, who had been obliged by pressure of business to forgo the closing ceremonies nine years previously, was now able to make amends by hosting the finale at his mansion on a beautiful summer’s day with his new wife. The prizes were distributed in the morning, and then the banquet for the players, committee, and a few special guests began at 2 p.m., although Bird had to miss it (because of his gout) and Paulsen had already departed. At some point after lunch, Steinitz and Rosenthal went off to play cards, but perhaps they returned for the evening dinner for about 150 persons with musical accompaniment.25 Steinitz did not hurry home, in retrospect perhaps a grave error in view of what soon occurred. Instead he took a holiday in Austria and the date of his return to London is unknown. After his friends in Hereford wrote to congratulate him on his victory, he sent a reply addressed to Thomas Smith, honorary secretary of the Hereford Chess Club. In view of the date and the town it was sent from, perhaps he was now starting to make his way back to England, and if so he would have been home by the time his letter was published. The following appeared in the Hereford Times of Saturday, 22 July:

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Steinitz in London

THE VIENNA CHESS TOURNAMENT. The following letter has been received from Herr Steinitz in reply to one from the Hereford Chess Club, congratulating him on his victory at the recent tournament at Vienna:— Salzburg, July 18th, 1882. My Dear Sir,—Please to accept the expression of my warmest thanks for your kind congratulatory letter, which reached me at Aussu [recte Bad Aussee], Styria, where I had retired, under medical advice, for rest, after the fatigues during the tournament. I trust you will also on that account excuse the delay in my response to your kind sympathy on behalf of the members of the Hereford Chess Club, which has afforded me the greatest pleasure.—Believe me to remain, your sincerely, W. STEINITZ.

Leaving The Field The events that led to Steinitz surrendering the editorship of the chess column in The Field are not simple to understand and there has never been a definitive explanation. Rose’s history of The Field offers no enlightenment; either there was nothing in the paper’s files or he did not appreciate the significance of what occurred and did not put it in his book. A narrative of events provides evidence but does not answer the perennial question: “Did he fall or was he pushed?” Sergeant wrote: “It is to be feared that he did not give up his post on amicable terms with the management.” Otherwise he did not attempt to explain what happened, just saying that before Steinitz’s departure for America he resigned his editorship of The Field, which is putting the cart before the horse. Steinitz certainly did not resign because he had a better offer elsewhere; many weeks elapsed between his resignation and departure. Hooper and Whyld, in their Oxford Companion, said in their first edition (1984, page 331) only that the column was taken over by Hoffer “whose miserable annotations sometimes inflamed Steinitz.” Before the second edition (1992, page 397) they appear to have discovered something, or just rethought the matter, because now they alleged a conspiracy, without going into any specifics: “The Field column was lost to him as a result of manoeuvres made while he was away.” What maneuvers and by whom? If there was indeed a conspiracy, it must surely have been between Hoffer and Mason, but the evidence looks thin. Steinitz, after all, was not fired, but chose to resign. Fraser wrote to White on 23 November 1882: Hoffer now edits the Field Column assisted, I suppose, by Zukertort.—Steinitz I understand wished to insert some letter or another, which the Chief Editor considered objectionable in some respect. & Steinitz, standing upon his dignity, insisted on its insertion which occasioned a quarrel and—resignation of the Editorship by little Steinitz.—There is no doubt he was very conscientious in all his analysis, and the change is not I should say for the better.

Instead of offering a speculative explanation, especially as this author has already dealt briefly with this topic in two

previous books,26 presented here is a chronology of what appear to be the significant events, referring to all the documents which were published in The Field and appear to be relevant, and which are included in full in Appendix V. The great unknown is the attitude of the editor, John Henry Walsh, and management of The Field. Were they sad to see Steinitz go, or relieved? Walsh had hitherto been supportive of Steinitz, notably in the 1877 Divan exclusion episode, although the events of late 1875 must have tried his patience. Perhaps more significant is a detail from Rose: in 1880 (he did not say exactly when) Walsh “suffered a severe illness that incapacitated him for eighteen months.” That means that he was back in the job less than a year when the crisis erupted in July 1882, and in the meantime a deputy (who possibly found Steinitz difficult to deal with) would have acquired more influence. Steinitz had left England on or about 20 April and was not back in England much before 20 July, if then, an absence of three months. There is a line in The Field column on 22 July which shows he was in London before the deadline for that issue. Meanwhile, Mason had begun on 8 July to set the ball rolling and he referred to a leading article in The Field on 20 May which Steinitz did not write, although Mason probably thought that he had. That leading article, which is not included in the Moravian Chess reprint of Field columns, must either have been written by a member of staff or else by a chess expert who had not gone to Vienna. Hoffer does look the most likely suspect, but if Hooper and Whyld were implying that it was deliberately written to provoke a reply from Mason which would embroil Steinitz in trouble, that is surely too far-fetched. The leading article was published at the start of the tournament. What may have happened, though, is that somebody showed the article to Mason on his return to England in the hope of sparking a reaction. In reply to Mason, an anonymous letter from “Veritas” was published on the 15th. This said that Steinitz has beaten Mason indirectly if by that the leader-writer meant that Steinitz has beaten men who have proved themselves superior to Mason and a statistical table of relative results in four tournaments was included. Moreover, Mason drew his match with Potter whereas Steinitz beat Potter. The Editor appended a note saying: “In justice to Mr. Steinitz, and in his absence, we may state that he had nothing whatever to do with the writing of the article referred to.” If Steinitz had been wise, and defensive, he would have let the matter lie there and wait until his return to London to resume his column in the ordinary way, staying aloof from the argument. That was not his nature, though. Instead he fell into the trap, if trap it was. Steinitz sent a letter from Austria, dated the 15th and which therefore clearly could not take account of what “Veritas” published the same day. Steinitz’s letter was published on 22 July, just after his return, along with a long letter from Mason. If Walsh had wanted to

11. A Champion Returns—and Departs, 1882 protect Steinitz, he would have been wise to withhold publication of those two letters until he had a face-to-face discussion with Steinitz about the matter. Perhaps he did, but there is no way of knowing. Steinitz’s letter says he did not write the editorial but “I think it only fair to uphold his assertion even in reference to Mr. Mason, notwithstanding the latter’s denials.” Steinitz aggressively asserted he was superior to Mason (notwithstanding their two draws in Vienna) and said he would be willing to play Mason in a match “on fair terms” but Zukertort would be a “much worthier” opponent. After all, in Vienna, Zukertort had scored one and a half points against Steinitz whereas Mason just had two draws with him. Mason’s letter was not a reply to Steinitz but to “Veritas” whose argument was weak. The leader had said that Steinitz “has directly or indirectly beaten in matches every one of the [Vienna] entries” except Mackenzie. Mason replied that: “Mr. Steinitz has no more beaten me (one of the entries referred to) either ‘directly’ or ‘indirectly,’ than he has beaten Capt. Mackenzie, or Moses, or Adam.” If the theory of “indirect superiority” be admitted, Mason reasonably said, you can prove almost any player superior to any other especially if you go back several years as “Veritas” had done in saying Steinitz had beaten Potter, which was in the City of London Handicap 10 years previously. Something happened in the next few days; perhaps there was a blazing row in The Field office between Steinitz and Walsh. Perhaps Steinitz offered his resignation as a tactic, expecting thereby to get his own way. If so, he had not learned the lesson of the Westminster Chess Club episode. No more words from Steinitz were printed in the paper, although some of the non-controversial items in the paper (like the problems) may have been prepared by him before his final departure. What appeared in print on the 29th was a statement from the editor, summing up and closing the correspondence. Steinitz had sent in another long letter, contents unknown, which the paper refused to print: We have to apologise to our readers for the absence of our usual annotated game, having received from Mr. Steinitz in lieu thereof a long letter, extending to fully a column, on the subject of a remark made in our leading article “The Chess World,” on May 20, and the correspondence resulting from it. We feel bound to close this correspondence, if only because the issue now raised by the disputants, Mr. Mason, “Veritas,” and Herr Steinitz, is irrelevant to our remark with which Mr. Mason joined issue, and which has led to the dispute. Mr. Mason has been seeking to show that in tournament play Herr Steinitz has established no superiority over him, direct or indirect; whereas our statement simply was that he (Mr. Steinitz) “has directly or indirectly beaten, in matches, Mr. Mason inter alios; and this we believe to have been literally true—e.g., Steinitz beat Zukertort, Zukertort beat Potter, and Potter drew with Mason, all being matches. So far from drawing any line as to tournament play, we, in the same article, expressly stated our reasons for believing that tournament competition is less decisive of relative merit than match play.”—ED.27

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James Mason. (From The Chess-Monthly, X [November 1888].)

Fraser’s explanation to White, quoted above, agrees with this, but may only have been based on that paragraph, though it is also possible that he had some inside knowledge. On the fifth of August, no new columnist was named but probably Hoffer was now doing the column even if he was not yet formally appointed. The evidence for a conspiracy by Hoffer is thin, resting chiefly on Steinitz’s own allegations later in the International Chess Magazine. If Hoffer planned to usurp Steinitz by provoking Mason in this way, he was playing a deep combination of a kind he never achieved on the chessboard. More likely, events took an unfortunate course without any conspiracy. Hooper pointed out, in his chapter on Steinitz in a book edited by Edward Winter, that one of the prime targets for Steinitz’s notorious invective in later years was Hoffer “who, he believed, had stolen his column.”28 Was this just paranoia? The earliest reference Steinitz made to the matter in the International Chess Magazine was in its fourth issue, for April 1885, where he wrote: … my having abdicated in early August, or rather kicked off with contempt a critical throne of a London journal, the possession of which had been the cause of much jealousy, discontent and intrigue for years. A literary grasshopper, who had crawled up from behind, sprang on the chair, which replaced the vacant throne in the Field….

According to MacDonnell, when Walsh offered him the post, Hoffer asked for more time to consider because he was “so anxious … to avoid giving offence to his great rival.” MacDonnell claims that Hoffer went to Steinitz and tried to persuade him to settle his differences with the management and return to the editorship of the column, “but the Austrian

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Steinitz in London

proved himself obdurate and irreconcilable.”29 If true, that was a kindly act and hardly fits in with a conspiracy theory but the problem with accepting this account is that Hoffer himself was probably MacDonnell’s source, and in view of MacDonnell’s known bias and the subsequent writings of both Hoffer and Steinitz, probably not much credence can be assigned to this rumor. The one piece of indirect evidence that might support it is that there was a long interval between the 27 July editorial paragraph and the formal announcement that Steinitz had resigned, as shown below. According to British Chess Magazine (and also to Sergeant), Steinitz requested, when retiring from The Field, that his name be mentioned as little as possible in that paper, so they rarely published his games in the London 1883 tournament.30 On 24 August 1882, Steinitz announced his resignation in short advertisements published three times in the London Standard: TO CHESS PLAYERS, Herr STEINITZ begs to announce that he has RESIGNED the CHESS EDITORSHIP of the “FIELD” Newspaper, and ceased to contribute to that journal on the 12th inst.31

Villain of the piece or unjustly accused? Leopold Hoffer from G. A. MacDonnell’s book The Knights and Kings of Chess.

The purpose of this advertisement is unclear, especially if Steinitz paid for its insertion personally. In London chess circles, at least, this was already known, having been announced in the Chess Player’s Chronicle on 16 August. The following paragraph, which may have been written by Gunsberg, provides a fine epitaph to Steinitz’s conduct of the column: RESIGNATION OF MR. STEINITZ FROM HIS CHESS EDITORSHIP. The Chess World will learn with regret that Mr. Steinitz has resigned the Chess Editorship of the “Field,” which he has held for nearly nine years. During that time he has succeeded in making the Column one of the first, if not the first, in the world. His reporting of matches and tournaments stands unrivalled, and no Chess Column was ever so extensively quoted as his has been. Even his enemies did not scruple to utilize his brain power by copying his notes, and, as if ashamed of their acknowledgment of the prowess of the “Bohemian Caesar,” they would, on the very next page, abuse his professionalism. But friend and foe alike will now miss, we hope only for a time, the valuable Chess writings which have appeared in the column under his direction.32

Meanwhile, Steinitz considered building on his Vienna success by challenging Zukertort to a match again. The protracted negotiations took three years to come to fruition, the delay working to Steinitz’s advantage. In the meantime, he received a challenge to a match “on reasonable terms” from Mason, issued on 31 July, which led to negotiations later outlined by MacDonnell (who presumably had his information from Mason).33 Such a match would certainly have been interesting, given that Mason was probably at the peak of his chess strength in 1882, but it was not to be. Mason was probably thinking that the stakes would be comparable with those that Steinitz played for against Blackburne in 1876 or Zukertort in 1872. On 15 August Steinitz replied that Zukertort had a prior claim, having already challenged him before the Vienna tournament, writing: “I cannot enter into further negotiations with you until I have ascertained that there is no chance of a contest with him during the next winter season.” Mason objected that Steinitz had already challenged him in The Field on 22 July when he had written: “For my own part, I should certainly not evade a direct contest against Mr. Mason on fair terms….” Mason pointed out that the match could be quickly arranged and played. “The thing can be easily done—done, finished and forgotten before that ‘winter season’ when he and Zukertort shall be prepared to carry out their famous combat.” During a gap in the correspondence, according to MacDonnell (allowance for whose literary flourishes and sometimes casual acquaintance with the truth must be made), Steinitz “sought out Zukertort … and implored of him to waive his claim … and allow him to play Mr. Mason.” Zukertort agreed, but then Steinitz had second thoughts until Mason persuaded Zukertort to put a line in The ChessMonthly expressly saying to Steinitz that he declined to sign

11. A Champion Returns—and Departs, 1882 “binding conditions for a match, and declared Mr. S. quite free for any other engagement.” Steinitz now had to find some other way to break his promise to play Mason, and he did this by proposing a level of stakes that he was fairly confident would be higher than Mason would be able to meet. In view of the fact that Mason had finished higher than Zukertort in Vienna, he said in a letter which he handed to Mason personally on 18 September, the stakes could not be lower than those proposed for the Steinitz–Zukertort contest that had fallen through in the spring. Steinitz proposed a match for the first to win nine games, with stakes of £150 a side. That was the state of affairs when MacDonnell wrote his article published on 23 September. MacDonnell reported on 15 October that the match “has ended where it began—on paper.” Since no more details are available, one must assume that Mason either failed to find sufficient backers for this large sum, or did not even try. Instead he played a small friendly match with Mackenzie, before the latter returned to America, and he challenged Zukertort, who provisionally agreed but then went abroad so that match did not happen either. In the meantime Steinitz received a generous invitation from David Thompson of the Franklin Chess Club of Phila-

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delphia and so his fate was sealed. British Chess Magazine reported that Steinitz left for America on October 25 in order to play a match with Dion Martinez in Philadelphia, where the local club guaranteed his expenses.34 Landsberger says he sailed on the Indiana out of Liverpool, which had a rough passage and only docked on 7 November. Steinitz’s doings in America, except in barest outline, are beyond the scope of this volume. He spent a month and a half in Philadelphia, where he played a further match against Martinez and other games, before going to Baltimore for a small match with Alexander Sellman and thence to New Orleans where he was engaged for a month starting 28 December 1882. Landsberger commented on Steinitz’s departure for America: “He needed new challenges and did not see a need to play Zukertort or any one [sic] else at this particular time. He was 46 years old and needed new worlds to conquer.”35 Steinitz’s journey to America did not constitute a definite decision to emigrate but was exploratory, as Landsberger says. Before Steinitz sailed, there was already talk of an international tournament in London in the summer of 1883, for which he would return. Probably only after that London 1883 tournament did he definitely decide to quit England permanently.

12. Farewell to London, 1883 This chapter deals with the final period of Steinitz’s English residence, which lasted a few months only, so perhaps should only be called a lengthy return visit, principally for the London 1883 international tournament. The course of the tournament will be viewed principally from his point of view. It is hard to know whether he had definitely decided to immigrate to America. If he was not certain on the matter, the aftermath of the London congress must have made up his mind. Although Steinitz had a strong tournament, he had to play second fiddle to his great rival Zukertort, and a new chess column he began in a minor periodical only had a short life. Steinitz’s movements in the first few months of 1883 will only be summarized here. He had been busy in America, starting with a month-long engagement in New Orleans, where he met Morphy. He left there on 28 January and by 1 February he was in New York, where he attended the Manhattan Chess Club dinner on the third and then played an informal match with Mackenzie. After casual games and club engagements in the city, he sailed to Cuba on the 24th aboard the Saratoga, on board which he played a game blindfold against fellow passenger William M. Visser. He was in Havana by 27 February, where he won a short match against Golmayo in the first week of March. Steinitz then returned to New York, via Philadelphia, and on 27 March he sailed for England on the Guion line mail steamer Abyssinia.1 She was reported “off Holyhead” on Saturday, 7 April so Abyssinia probably docked at Liverpool later that day and Steinitz would have been back in London by the 8th.2 With the tournament due to begin on 26 April, this gave him two and a half weeks to reunite with his family, confirm his entry, and prepare for battle. There are no recorded casual games by him in England during his 1883 stay, though he may well have played some. Meanwhile, to coincide with the Congress, MacDonnell issued his first book, Chess Life-Pictures, which included some items that had previously appeared under Chess Chat by “Mars” in his column for the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News. In a section about Simpson’s Divan, he indirectly referred to the incident where Steinitz had been excluded

for a time. He wrote that upon the dissolution of the Westminster Club: … some of its leading members returned to the Divan and essayed to revive its ancient glories. For a time they achieved a partial success but the fates were against them. The smallness of the room, always a source of discomfort, coupled with other circumstances of a painful nature that happened about five years ago, compelled them to desist from their efforts, and either to abandon wholly their once-beloved haunt, or only to favour it with angels’ visits. But still the Divan is not wholly wanting in attractions for the ardent votary of Caissa…. There Steinitz oft paces up and down the room chuckling over his own pretty jokes, or retailing his myriad grievances.3

London 1883 Tournament The tournament first mooted in 1882 by the Troicoupian Club finally came to fruition under the management of the major London clubs with the St. George’s Chess Club to the fore, whose secretary, J. I. Minchin, was also honorary secretary of the organizing committee.4 At last an international tournament in Britain was conducted with all competitors in action at the same time at a single playing venue. This was the Victoria Hall, on an upper floor of the Criterion Restaurant, on Piccadilly, in the heart of the West End. As at Vienna 1882, the players met each other once and then in the second cycle the same sequence was followed with reverse colors. A throwback to the bad old days, however, was that draws were replayed, sometimes more than once; only the third draw counted half a point each. This meant that it was not possible to have a fully predetermined schedule. Replays could only occasionally be played immediately after the original game, because the schedule of rounds was kept, and replays were on days set aside for them. On those days, the organizers had discretion to decide which games should be played if some competitor had more than one tie outstanding. This eventually led to a major dispute between Steinitz and the committee. Another objection to the system was that it encouraged the player with Black to play for a draw in order to have White in the replay. In the case of two draws, which happened 15 times (but only once

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12. Farewell to London, 1883 involving Steinitz), the White pieces reverted to the player who had them originally. In seven cases there were three draws. Some players, who had many draws, ended up playing many more games than others. H. C. Allen wrote in the chess column of the New York newspaper Turf, Field and Farm that “Mr. Steinitz’s entrance was delayed until the last moment, but, happily, the obstacles were removed before it was too late.” Perhaps this referred to a request for a guarantee of expenses or an appearance fee, or to objections by some individual to accepting Steinitz’s entry. Allen said that statements which had appeared in the press, to the effect that Steinitz had entered and paid his entry fee before leaving America, were untrue. “The money which he forwarded from New York was a contribution to the fund of the tournament.” Indeed, he is shown on the list of subscribers in the tournament book (page lii) to have donated two guineas. With Steinitz returned to active play, this tournament promised to be a showdown between the big guns of international tournament chess, although many of the leading German and Austrian players preferred to keep their powder dry for the tournament starting in Nuremberg in mid–July. The introduction to the tournament book regretted the absence of Louis Paulsen, who (along with the Rev. John Owen and Schwarz) “were at the last moment unable to come” according to British Chess Magazine in May.5 Paulsen did play in Nuremberg but without much success. In retrospect, the young German aristocrat Curt von Bardeleben, who finished fifth in Nuremberg, might have strengthened the field at the expense of one of the tail-enders. He won the secondary tournament in London but he probably was not ready to compete in the main event against world-class masters. At this stage of his career Bardeleben had no real track record and 1883 was his breakthrough year. The home contingent, apart from Blackburne (the third prize-winner), Mason, and Bird, was not strong but it is hard to imagine who else might have been included instead of Mortimer and Skipworth. Potter was definitely strong enough but since his drawn match with Mason in 1879 he was semiretired from playing chess. The rising star Burn was still in America, only returning to England in August, while Owen (though he continued playing into old age) last competed against professionals and amateur masters (other than Burn) in the B.C.A. Challenge Cup of 1872. So the only serious omission was MacDonnell, which was by his own choice. He objected to the replaying of draws, and preferred to contest the subsidiary tournament sponsored by an Indian prince, the Maharajah of Vizayanagaram. The system of drawing rounds, together with the replays, produced unfortunate effects which would not be tolerated in a modern tournament. Steinitz began with a sequence of four games as White followed by no fewer than six games with Black but in those days the advantage of the first move

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was less critical than it later became with the deep development of opening theory. This can be seen from the fact that Steinitz lost two of the four with White and then won five in succession with Black, which was not solely due to the relative strength of the players as three of those wins were against genuine masters. The field of 14 included some players who were doomed to suffer many heavy defeats, but that was the norm for international events in the nineteenth century. An anonymous mid-tournament article (“by an eyewitness”) in the June number of British Chess Magazine observed that the term Master Tourney was a misnomer because “there are at least four competitors in it who can hardly rank as Masters.” That was clearly true of Mortimer, Sellman, and Skipworth, but who was the fourth that writer had in mind?6 It did not help that Sellman began the tournament in ill health. The same article described Englisch and Zukertort as the most nervous of the competitors, while the “coolest and most self-possessed” were Winawer and Mortimer. As for Steinitz, B.C.M. said he would probably have won more games if he had avoided “risky and almost untenable openings.” His recent practice in America, against mostly weak opposition, “could not have been of much service to him.” Steinitz had also adopted an American habit of sipping a glass of iced water during his games, “to calm his nerves.” This detail was also noted by another spectator of the tournament, Sir Henry Cotton MP (1845–1915) in his memoirs: How well I remember Steinitz!—short, squat, and stout, with thick red hair and beard, rejoicing in a nose unusually small for one of the Semitic race. He smoked and sipped claret and water, or gin and water—scrupulously iced notwithstanding the coldness of the weather—all the time he played. He rarely rose from his seat during a game, in this respect being a contrast to most of the other players, and especially to Zukertort, whose excitable nature induced him to walk about and follow more or less all the other games in progress in addition to his own. He thought out his moves with his arms folded on the table before him, and did not stroke his beard or twirl his moustache. Nor is there any failure in my memory of Zukertort, whose figure was the very opposite to that of Steinitz. He was short and thin, with a brown beard, over which, while thinking, his fingers were perpetually moving; the nervous twitch that he gave his head was peculiar to himself; his countenance indicated great intelligence and determination. Tchigorin and Noa were young and sallow, with black beards. Rosenthal, the French champion, and Winawer, from Poland, were seedy-looking little men. Mackenzie was a fine, manly fellow who would have been distinguished in almost any company. Sellman was stone deaf. I recall how Zukertort once confided to me that dominoes was the game at which he really played best, and not chess; that he considered himself to be the best player in the world at dominoes, and that Rosenthal came next; and also how Bird assured me that the quality of chess play was steadily improving, and that he himself played a far stronger game than he had done when he met Morphy twenty-five years before.7

Steinitz had a serious objection to the constitution of the committee who ran the tournament, though he never iden-

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tified by name the person whom he believed was biased against him. In Chapter 6 it was mentioned that Steinitz said the “false friend” who advised him to resign from the Westminster Club was on the playing committee, but it is not certain that this was the same person whom he afterwards in International Chess Magazine accused of being “an ex-thief ” who had run away with his employer’s money.8 It is very hard to know how much credence is to be given to these allegations written so long after the event. Steinitz always used the phrase “playing committee” in his 1883 reports, but in the tournament book there was no body with that title. Pages xlvi–xlvii list a General Committee which had over 90 members, and a Managing Committee of 14 so we may suppose it was one of that small group Steinitz meant. It consisted of: H. Baldwin, Dr. W. Ballard, Jr., W. H. Cubison, Wordsworth Donisthorpe, Philipp Hirschfeld, F. H. Lewis (chairman), J. F. Lovelock, Major-General Pearse, J. E. Rabbeth, A. Rosenbaum, Robert Steel, J. J. Watts, the Rev. W. Wayte, and W. B. Woodgate.9 Of those 14, we can acquit from the first charge (concerning the Westminster Club) all those who definitely were not lawyers—Ballard, Hirschfeld, Pearse, Rosenbaum, Steel, and Wayte—and also Donisthorpe because, although he became a lawyer, he was only 19 years old at the end of 1866. F. H. Lewis was a barrister, but since he was chairman of the managing committee that does not seem to match the description of somebody who has elected without his knowledge or consent. That does not entirely rule him out of the first set of accused, it must be admitted, but he certainly was not the “ex-thief ” because that person was said to be deceased by November 1888. The professions of Baldwin, Cubison, Lovelock, Rabbeth, Watts, and Woodgate are unknown, but since Woodgate had been Steinitz’s second in the 1882 negotiations with Zukertort, he was probably friendly to Steinitz and can be ruled out. Cubison looks a likely (but not the only) suspect for the Westminster Club charge. As to the other charge, the number of suspects is unclear because the dates of death of several of the committee have not been established.10 To return to the tournament itself, London 1883 proved to be the greatest triumph of Zukertort’s career, although his health broke down after he had secured first prize with several rounds to go. Steinitz and Blackburne confirmed their standing as the other members of the “world top” triumvirate, for the time being, with Chigorin showing great promise. Although Winawer was apparently in decline, this proved illusory because on the way home he entered the Nuremberg tournament virtually by accident and won it. The most obstinate competitors in the tournament were Englisch and Rosenthal who each drew 22 games (including five against each other) and contributed greatly to the protracted duration of the event. An important innovation was the introduction of the double chess clock, which was first demonstrated in 1882 by its

inventor, Thomas Bright Wilson (1843–1898), honorary secretary and treasurer of Manchester Chess Club. His clock was exhibited at the meeting of the Counties Chess Association at Manchester, although sand glasses were used in that tournament, and a sufficient number were made in order to adopt it for the London international. Previous attempts to solve the timing problem had involved separate clocks, and it was difficult for players to use them correctly, so their aggregate time in practice frequently did not add up to the total playing time of the game.11 Wilson never took out a patent for his invention, which is why the original chess clock is sometimes said to be that patented in 1884 by A. Schierwater of Liverpool.12 Alarm clocks were used for the Vizayanagaram tournament.13 It is also of interest that the tournament book reprinted (pages xix–xx) “Instructions for Guidance of Members of the Playing Committee,” including details of how umpires should manage the clocks and the reporting of results. This is probably the earliest known document (at least in English) which can be regarded as a precursor of the FIDE Arbiters Manual. The congress book (subsequently referred to as Minchin, after its editor) was produced in reasonably quick time. That in itself was an achievement since several previous major tournaments had not been documented properly. Vienna 1873 was the one shining model for Minchin, but he disimproved on it in one important respect. The arrangement of games by order of player (Zukertort’s first, then all Steinitz’s other games, then the rest of Blackburne’s, etc.) makes it confusing to establish the precise sequence in which games were played and the standings at any particular stage. In the present book, Steinitz’s games are presented in the order in which he played them, but the numbering of rounds and subrounds in the game headers indicates the replays. In his Preface the editor acknowledged: … the greatly enhanced value given to this collection by the elaborate notes to their own games which the first two prize-winners, Messrs. Zukertort and Steinitz, have supplied. Both these masters have brought the art of Chess analysis to a perfection unknown before their time, and never have they exercised it more successfully than in this collection. It was a labour of love with both of them to show that they stood as unrivalled in this branch of Chess as in their synthetical powers of combination over the board.

It may also be noted that the book’s title page says that Mason and Bird also assisted in its production. Blackburne later complained that he was not asked to contribute annotations. Steinitz sent reports to an American newspaper Turf, Field and Farm, which have been collected in a privately published book by Dutch chess collector Harrie Grondijs.14 His book makes use of Steinitz’s reports, which include a lot of criticisms of the organization although the writer always refers to himself in the third person. Steinitz’s first report, datelined

12. Farewell to London, 1883 23 April but published on 11 May, said the prizes for the tournament were “much larger than on any former occasion,”15 but said “the deliberations and decisions of the committee are in a state of confusion for which no precedent can be shown in the history of previous chess gatherings.” It seems that the final composition of the tournament committee was not decided until a late stage. The article went to quote some correspondence with Minchin, and then says: The committee, as a body, acted fairly well on the whole, though there can be little doubt that some small party would have wished to keep Mr. Steinitz out of the tournament. Not to enter for the present into matters which are personal, it may be sufficient to state that Mr. Steinitz was at last induced to participate in the contest, though under protest as regards one member of the playing committee.

B.C.M. said that all the foreign competitors had arrived in time to be guests at the City of London Chess Club dinner on Tuesday, 24 April and most of them could be found next day at Simpson’s Divan. The magazine listed 13 competitors but the Pall Mall Gazette of 25 April says that Mortimer was admitted at the last minute, presumably to make an even number and avoid a bye in each round. B.C.M. said that play began at noon on the 26th “without any formal opening ceremony, as is usual in German tournaments.”

541. Steinitz–S. Winawer London international (1), 26 April 1883 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 507); Minchin (game 33), page 57. Steinitz’s report in Turf, Field and Farm for 18 May included the following description of his first game: Steinitz adopted his own gambit against Winawer, who defended with PQ3 after checking with his Queen at R5. The attacking player, having recovered his Pawn, brought his K to K3 and soon obtained a strong position which led to his winning the exchange for a Pawn. Winawer defended a difficult ending in a masterly manner, and actually made the issue doubtful almost up to the very last. He exchanged all the Pawns, and remained with two Pawns to one when Steinitz succeeded in forcing the only pawn which was left on his side to Queen, thereby gaining another Rook, besides the exchange. Winawer fought on desperately for a few moves, when he had to resign after six hours’ play.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 Qh4† 5. Ke2 d6 6. Nf3 Bg4 7. B×f4 0–0–0 8. Ke3 B×f3 9. Q×f3 f5 10. d5 Nce7 11. Kd2 f×e4 12. N×e4 Nf6 13. Ng5 Qh5 14. Q×h5 N×h5 15. Nf7 N×f4 16. N×h8 Nf×d5 17. Nf7 Rd7 18. Re1 Nf6 19. Bd3 g6 20. Rhf1 Bg7 21. Ng5 d5 22. Ne6 Ne4† 23. B×e4 d×e4† 24. Ke2 Nf5 25. N×g7 R×g7 26. Rd1 b6 27. g4 Nd6 28. b3 Re7 29. Ke3 a5 30. a4 Kd7 31. Rf6 Kc6 32. h4 Re5 33. Rh1 b5 “Black can move nothing with advantage, a frequent condition of affairs when opposed to Mr. Steinitz.” 34. a×b5† R×b5 35. h5 Rc5 36. c4 a4 37. b×a4 g×h5 38. R×h5 R×c4 39. R×h7 R×a4 40. g5 Ra3† 41. Kf2 Ra2† 42. Kg3 e3 43. Re7 Kd5 44. g6 Ra1 45. Kg2 Ra2† 46. Kh3 Ra1 47. g7

307

Rg1 48. Rf8 Ne4 49. g8Q† R×g8 50. R×g8 c5 51. Rd8† Nd6 52. R×e3 1–0

542. Steinitz–B. Englisch London international (2), 27 April 1883 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 508); Minchin (game 34), page 59. Englisch in effect proposed a quick draw with his sixth move, which Mackenzie had previously played against Steinitz, so this can hardly have been a surprise. Steinitz was not clearly superior to his strongest rivals in pure calculation and his opening preparation seems to have been inadequate. White’s tenth move brought him into difficulties and after his 14th move he was lost. A deeper problem was that he was still choosing opening lines, especially with White, which directly led to an open tactical skirmish and did not align with his principle of accumulating small advantages. After Vienna 1882 he had dropped the King’s Gambit almost entirely from his repertoire, so far as serious games were concerned, but he could not bring himself to abjure the Vienna.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 Qh4† 5. Ke2 d5 6. e×d5 Qe7† 7. Kf2 Qh4† 8. g3 f×g3† 9. Kg2 Bd6 10. d×c6? 10. Qe1†, as in Game 543, is correct. 10. … g×h2 11. Qf3 h×g1Q† 12. K×g1 Q×d4† 13. Be3 Qf6 14. Qe2? Ne7 15. Bg2 b×c6 16.  Ne4 Qg6 17.  c4 Bg4 18.  Qf2 0–0 19.  Re1 Nf5 20. N×d6 N×e3 21. R×e3 Q×d6 22. Qh4 h5 23. Rg3 Rfe8 24. R×g4 Qd1† 25. Kh2 Q×g4 26. Q×g4 h×g4 27. Kg3 Rad8 28. B×c6 Re2 29. b4 R×a2 30. Re1 Rd3† 31. Kh4 g6 32. Re7 g3 33. Re1 Rd4† 34. K×g3 R×c4 0–1 On Saturday, 28 April, Steinitz was free while four draws from the first two rounds were replayed. All these were decisive and after their completion, there were three players at 100 percent: Englisch, Mason, and Zukertort.

543. Steinitz–M. I. Chigorin London international (3), 30 April 1883 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 509); Minchin (game 35), page 60. Steinitz persevered with his gambit and was the first to lose again. He commented that he “had a very good attack, but conducted it feebly.” Simply 12. Nf3 would have been strong. Later Chigorin gave him a drawing chance which Steinitz missed in time pressure.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 Qh4† 5. Ke2 d5 6. e×d5 Qe7† 7. Kf2 Qh4† 8. g3 f×g3† 9. Kg2 Bd6 10. Qe1† Nce7 11. h×g3 Q×d4 12. Rh4? Qf6 13. Ne4 Qg6 14. Bd3 Bf5 15.  N×d6† c×d6 16.  Bb5† Kf8 17.  c4 Nf6 18.  Nf3 Bg4 19. Nd4 Nf5 20. N×f5 Q×f5 21. Bf4 g5? Praised in the tournament book, but an error; 24.  … h5. 22.  B×d6† Kg7 23. R×g4 N×g4 24. Qc3†?? 24. Qe2 should have held the draw. 24. … f6 25. Rf1 Qe4† 26. Kg1 Qe2 27. Rf3 Rhe8

308

Steinitz in London

Two of the contestants in the London 1883 tournament: James Mortimer (left) playing against Blackburne. (From the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News of 16 January 1900.)

28. B×e8 R×e8 29. Bc5 Qh2† 30. Kf1 Re2 0–1 This was good enough to force resignation but 30. … Qh1† 31. Bg1 Qh3 mate was more efficient.

544. Steinitz–J. Mortimer London international (4), 1 May 1883 Nimzo-Indian Defense, by transposition (E51) Bachmann (game 510); Minchin (game 36), page 62. Steinitz switched to the Queen’s Gambit and after Mortimer’s weak seventh move there was not much resistance.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e3 Nf6 5. Bd3 0–0 6. Nf3 d×c4 7. B×c4 Ne4 8. Qc2 B×c3† 9. b×c3 Nd6 10. Bd3 f5 11. 0–0 Nd7 12. Ba3 Nf6 13. Ne5 Re8 14. f3 Nd5 15. Rae1 Nf7 16. N×f7 K×f7 17. e4 Nf4 18. Bc4 Qf6 19. e×f5 g6 20. Re5 c6 21. Bc1 Nd5 22. Bg5 Qg7 23. f×g6† h×g6 24. Rfe1 Bd7 25. R1e4 b5 26. Bd3 a5 27. Rg4 Rg8 28. h4 c5 29. R×d5 e×d5 30. Rf4† Bf5 31. B×f5 Rge8 32. B×g6† Kg8 33. Rf7 Q×f7 34. B×f7† K×f7 35. Qf5† Kg7 36. Qf6† Kg8 37. Bh6 1–0 Wednesday, 2 May was reserved for replays of draws so Steinitz had another day off.

545. J. Mason–Steinitz London international (5), 3 May 1883

Ruy Lopez (C70) Bachmann (game 511); Minchin (game 37), page 64.

There is a discrepancy between sources about White’s last move in this game, although he is completely lost in either case. ChessBase correctly follows the tournament book with 50. Kg2, as does the Pickard book but his database, and also Grondijs, (like Hooper) follows Bachmann in giving 50. Kf1 instead. Steinitz, in Turf, Field and Farm for 25 May, described his 13th move as “hazardous” but at move 15 Mason failed to find any of several good continuations and after that White’s position deteriorated rapidly. Steinitz criticized Mason’s 18th move but everything else was worse. 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nge7 5. d4 e×d4 6. N×d4 N×d4 7. Q×d4 b5 8. Bb3 d6 9. c3 Be6 10. Bc2 Nc6 11. Qe3 Be7 12. f4 0–0 13. 0–0 d5?! 14. Rd1 Re8 15. e5? g6 16. b3 f6 17. Qg3 f×e5 18. f5 Bh4 19. Qg4 Bc8 20. b4 Kh8 21. a4 b×a4 22. B×a4 B×f5 23. Qe2 Qd6 24. Na3 Qe6 25. h3 h5 26. Bb2 Kh7 27. Qd2 Red8 28. Nc2 Ne7 29. Qe3 Be4 30. Rf1 Nf5 31. Qc5 Qd6 32. Q×d6 R×d6 33. c4 d4 34. c5 Rf6 35. g4 h×g4 36. h×g4 Nh6 37. R×f6 B×f6 38. Re1 B×c2 39. B×c2 N×g4 40. Bc1 Nh6 41. B×h6 K×h6 42. Ra1 Rb8 43. R×a6 Kg5 44. Ra4 Kf4 45. Ra6 Bh4 46. Rc6 e4 47. R×c7 d3 48. Rf7† Ke3 49. Bd1 R×b4 50. Kg2 Kd2 0–1

12. Farewell to London, 1883

546. G. H. Mackenzie–Steinitz London international (6), 4 May 1883 Ruy Lopez (C60) Bachmann (game 512); Minchin (game 38), page 65. Steinitz soon obtained the advantage of the bishop pair and a weak White e-pawn but his 17th move could have been a losing blunder. Mackenzie overlooked the refutation and was always worse after that.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 g6 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 Bg7 6. Be3 Nf6 7. Nc3 0–0 8. 0–0 Ne7 9. h3? c6 10. Bd3 d5 11. e×d5 Ne×d5 12. N×d5 N×d5 13. c3 N×e3 14. f×e3 Qg5 15. Qf3 Bd7 16. Bc4 Rae8 17. Rae1 Be5? 18. Ne2? 18. B×f7†! Kg7 (or Kh8) 19. B×e8 R×f3 20. N×f3 would lead to a decisive material advantage. 18. … Re7 19. Nf4 Kg7 20. Rd1 Bc8 21. Rf2 Bc7 22. Kh1 Qe5 23. Re1 Bf5 24. Kg1 Rfe8 25. g4 Be4 26. Qd1 Rd8 27. Qe2 Red7 28. Qf1 Kh8 29. h4 f5 30. g5 Rd2 31. Qh3 R×f2 32. K×f2 Qc5 33. Ne6 Q×c4 34. N×d8 B×d8 35. Qg3 Qd5 36. c4 Qd7 37. Qe5† Kg8 38. Re2 h6 39. Ke1 Bc7 40. Qd4 Bg3† 41. Kd2 Q×d4† 42. e×d4 B×h4 43. g×h6 Bg5† 44. Ke1 B×h6 45. Kf2 Kf7 46. b3 Bf4 47. a4 g5 48. a5 g4 0–1 Steinitz had the weekend of 5–6 May free because he still had not drawn any games. On the Monday, he met one of the few regular practitioners of closed games in this era; Steinitz described his second move as an experiment. Skipworth opened too defensively, created a hole in his center, and was outplayed.

this game for Minchin, although he lost it. He criticized Steinitz’s moves 8 and 14.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 g6 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 Bg7 6. Be3 Nf6 7. Be2 0–0 8. 0–0 Re8 “Mr. Steinitz condemned this move directly after the game.” He had previously failed with it in Game 514, a sign of poor opening preparation. 9. Qd3 Qe7 Yet Stockfish suggests that 9. … d5 gives Black a decent game. 10. Ndb5 d6 11. Bg5 Ne5 12. Qd2 Be6 13. Qf4 Rec8 “Forced, for White threatened 14 Kt t. BP.” Yet Pickard’s database has 13. … Red8 and remains incorrect until the rook goes to e8 at move 22. 14. Qh4 c6 “Involving the loss of a Pawn. The sacrifice was certainly not sound, nor do I think absolutely necessary.” 15. f4 Zukertort said he should have played 15. N×d6. 15. … Ned7 16. Nd4 h6 Zukertort said he overlooked this when choosing his 15th move. 17. N×e6 Zukertort now saw that 17. B×h6?! Nd5! wins a piece, although White is not lost after 18. Bg5! B×d4† 19. Kh1 f6 20. e×d5. 17. … Q×e6 18. B×h6 B×h6 19. Q×h6 N×e4 20. Bg4 Q×g4 21. N×e4 Qf5 22. Rae1 Re8 23. Re3! R×e4 24. Rh3 Qf6 25. Qh7† Kf8 26. Qh8† Ke7 27. Q×a8 Qd4† 28. Kh1 R×f4 (see diagram)

After 28. … R×f4

547. The Rev. A. B. Skipworth–Steinitz London international (7), 7 May 1883 English Opening (A20) Bachmann (game 513); Minchin (game 39), page 67.

1. c4 e5 2. e3 g6 3. Nc3 Bg7 4. Be2 Ne7 5. d3 0–0 6. Nf3 d5 7. 0–0 Nbc6 8. e4 d×c4 9. d×c4 Nd4 10. Be3 h6 11. Qd2 Kh7 12. Rad1 Nec6 13. Nd5 Ne6 14. Bd3 Ncd4 15. N×d4 e×d4 16.  Bf4 c6 17.  Nb4 N×f4 18.  Q×f4 Qb6 19.  a3 a5 20.  Nc2 Q×b2 21.  Rb1 Qc3 22.  Rfd1 Be6 23.  e5 B×c4 24. N×d4 B×d3 25. Rb3 Qc5 26. Rb×d3 B×e5 27. Nb3 Qb5 28. Qh4 a4 29. Nc1 Bb2 30. Ne2 Rae8 31. Ng3 Bg7 32. Ne4 f5 33. Ng5† Kg8 34. Nf3 g5 35. Qg3 f4 36. Qg4 Qf5 37. h3 Q×g4 38. h×g4 Bf6 39. Kf1 Rd8 40. R×d8 R×d8 41. Rb1 b5 42. Ke2 Kf7 43. Nd2 Be7 44. Rc1 Rd6 45. Ra1 Ke6 46. f3 Rd4 47. Kd1 b4 48. Kc2 b3† 49. Kc3 Bf6 50. Rh1 Rd5† 51. Kb4 R×d2 52. K×a4 b2 53. Kb3 c5 54. Ka2 c4 0–1

548. J. H. Zukertort–Steinitz London international (8), 8 May 1883 Three Knights’ Game (C46) Bachmann (game 514); Minchin (game 9), pages 14–15. With the clash of the titans on the agenda, “the room, although large, was densely crowded and further admittance was refused at the doors.” Zukertort annotated

309

QDwDwDwD 0pDnipDw wDp0wDpD DwDwDwDw wDw1w4wD DwDwDwDR P)PDwDP) DwDwDRDK

29.  Re1†!? Zukertort called this a blunder, indicating 29. Rg1 and refuting Steinitz’s claim that 29. … Q×b2 in reply would draw. Instead 29. … Nc5 would leave the game complicated although with White having more winning chances. 29. … Re4!? Steinitz sets a trap; 29. … Nc5 might be objectively superior. 30. R×e4†?? “Of course White would still draw at least with 30. Rg1.” 30. … Q×e4 31. Q×a7 b6 0–1 Steinitz was free on Wednesday the ninth as he still had not drawn any games.

549. J. Noa–Steinitz London international (9), 10 May 1883 Giuoco Piano (C50) Bachmann (game 515); Minchin (game 40), page 69. This was another long game; Steinitz outmaneuvered his opponent until Dr. Noa, at move 32, bravely complicated with a sacrifice. It had some effect; a difficult endgame arose where White missed at least one drawing line, perhaps in an attempt to win.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. d3 d6 5. h3 Nf6 6. Nc3 Na5 7. Bb3 N×b3 8. a×b3 c6 9. Na4 Bb4† 10. Bd2 B×d2†

310

Steinitz in London

11. Q×d2 0–0 12. Qg5 h6 13. Qh4 Qa5† 14. Ke2 Qc7 15. g4 Nh7 16. Rhg1 f6 17. Qg3 Rf7 18. Nc3 d5 19. h4 d4 20. Nb1 g5 21. Nbd2 Nf8 22. h×g5 h×g5 23. Rh1 Ng6 24. Rag1 Qa5 25. Nc4 Qc5 26. Kd1 b5 27. Rh6 Rg7 28. Ncd2 a5 29. Rgh1 Be6 30. Qh2 Kf7 31. Qh5 Rag8 32. N×g5†!? f×g5 33. Nf3 Ke8 34. N×g5 Qe7 35. f3 Kd7 36. N×e6 Q×e6 37. Qf5 Rf7 38. Rh7 Rgf8 39. R1h6 R×h7 40. R×h7† Kd6 41. Qg5 Qf6 42. Qf5 Q×f5?! 42. … Ne7 was much better because White would then only have one passed pawn. 43. e×f5 Nf4 44. Ke1 Nd5 45. Kd2 a4 46. b×a4 b×a4 47. Rh6† Kd7 48. Rh7† Ne7 49. Rh6 Nc8 50. Re6 Re8 51. Rh6 Nd6 52. Rh7† Re7 53. Rh8 Ne8?! (see diagram)

wDwDnDw$ DwDk4wDw wDpDwDwD DwDw0PDw pDw0wDPD DwDPDPDw w)PIwDwD DwDwDwDw

After 53. … Ne8

54. g5! Steinitz wrote that 54. Rh6 “would have been sufficient for drawing purposes” but the computer disagrees. 54. … Nd6 55. f6 Re8 56. Rh7† Ke6 57. Rc7 Kf5 58. R×c6?? 58.  f7 would save the game. 58.  … Nf7 59.  Ra6 N×g5 60. R×a4 K×f6 61. c3 Rh8 62. Kc2 N×f3 63. Kb3 Kf5 64. c4 Ne1 65. c5 N×d3 66. c6 Nc5† 0–1

550. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz London international (10), 11 May 1883 Three Knights’ Game (C46) Bachmann (game 516); Minchin (game 41), page 70; L&W, XXXV (19 May 1883), page 387; Modern Chess Instructor (Part 1), pages 52–53 and 55; Blackburne (game 392). The loser wrote in Turf, Field and Farm that: The defense was feebly contested by Steinitz, who early after the opening moves had the worst of the position. By a very fine sacrifice of the centre [sic] P, Blackburne obtained a powerful attack against the exposed K. On the 22d [sic] move, Steinitz committed a grievous error, for at that critical point he might have secured the advantage if he had adopted the proper defense. As it was, Blackburne conducted the attack in excellent style, and wound up with an excellent mate, after sacrificing a R. The whole game was played by Blackburne in the highest style.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 g6 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 Bg7 6. Be3 Nf6 7. Be2 0–0 8. 0–0 Ne7 9. Bf3 d6 10. Qd2 Nd7 11. Bh6 Ne5 12. B×g7 K×g7 13. Be2 f6 14. f4 Nf7 15. Rad1 c6 16.  Bc4 Bd7 17.  B×f7 R×f7 18.  f5 Nc8 19.  e5!? f×e5 20. Ne6† B×e6 21. f×e6 Re7 22. Qg5 Qe8 Steinitz’s claim in the Instructor that 22. … Nb6 23. Qf6† Kg8 would have given Black the superior game is not borne out by analysis, but it

would have been a better try. 23. Rd3 R×e6 24. Rh3 Qe7 25. Qh6† Kg8 26. Rf8† 1–0 No draws were replayed on Saturday, 12 May, in order for the players to enjoy a reception hosted at Hirschfeld’s house in Belsize Park. Steinitz was among the many after-dinner speakers.16

551. Steinitz–H. E. Bird London international (11), 14 May 1883 Three Knights’ Game (C46) Bachmann (game 517); Minchin (game 42), page 72. Bird chose an inferior defense, took his king for a walk, and was dispatched without much ceremony.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. Nf3 Bc5?! 4. N×e5 N×e5 5. d4 Bd6 6. d×e5 B×e5 7. Bd3 Ne7 8. 0–0 c6 9. Qh5 d6 10. f4 Bd4† 11. Kh1 g6 12. Qe2 Kd7? 13. Bc4 f5 14. Rd1 B×c3 15. b×c3 f×e4 16. Ba3 d5 17. Q×e4 b5 18. B×b5 c×b5 19. B×e7 Kc6 20. Qe5 Qd7 21. Q×h8 Q×e7 22. Re1 Qd6 23. Re8 Qd7 24. Rae1 Qc7 25. Qf6† Kc5 26. R1e6 B×e6 27. R×e6 1–0 Black resigned; some databases such as chessgames.com wrongly continue to show checkmate, as they do with the previous game.

552. Steinitz–A. Sellman London international (12), 15 May 1883 French Defense (C13) Bachmann (game 518); Minchin (game 43), page 73. Steinitz should have won this mismatch easily but inferior moves 15 and 27 might have jeopardized the victory.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. B×f6 B×f6 6. Nf3 b6?! 7. Bb5† c6 8. Bd3 c5? 9. e×d5 e×d5 10. Bb5† Bd7? 11. Qe2† Kf8 This should have been played last move. 12. 0–0–0 c4 13. B×d7 Q×d7 14. Ne5 Qe6 15. f4?! 15. Qf3 (Steinitz) is better but even after the text White retains a large advantage. 15. … Na6 16. Qf3 Nc7 17. g4 b5 18. g5 Be7 19. f5?! Steinitz indicated 19. h4 but building up gradually (with 29. Rde1 for example) was probably even stronger. 19.  … B×g5† 20.  Kb1 Qd6 21.  Qh5 Qe7 22.  Rhe1 h6 23.  N×c4 Qf6 24.  Ne5 Rd8 25.  Ne2 Ne8 26.  Ng3 Kg8 27. Re2 Bf4 28. Qf3 B×g3 29. h×g3 Qg5? 29. … Qb6 keeps the fight going. 30. Nc6 Rc8 31. Ne7† 1–0

553. Steinitz–S. Rosenthal London international (13.1), 17 May 1883 Ruy Lopez (C65) Bachmann (game 519); Minchin (game 44), page 74. In Steinitz’s letter published on 15 June in Turf, Field and Farm, he summarized this game as follows: Steinitz attacked Rosenthal with the same form of Ruy Lopez as in his first match game against Blackburne in 1876. White had the best of the struggle, and won a P at the expense, however, of meeting a serious attack against his K, which increased in vehemence, owing

12. Farewell to London, 1883 to Steinitz having selected a bad retreat for his Q at d3…. Rosenthal conducted his part most skillfully….

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. d3 d6 5. c3 g6 6. Nbd2 Bg7 7. Nf1 0–0 8. Ne3 Ne7 9. Ba4 d5 10. Qc2 Ng4 11. Bb3 c6 12. h3 N×e3 13. B×e3 h6 14. 0–0–0 Be6 15. d4 e×d4 16. N×d4 Qc7 17. Qd2 Kh7 18. Bf4 Qd7 19. Rhe1 Rad8 20. Qe3 Rfe8 21. N×e6 f×e6 22. Q×a7 Nc8 23. Qe3!? e5 24.  Bh2 d4 25.  c×d4 e×d4 26.  Qd3?! b5! 27.  a4 b×a4 28. B×a4 Nb6 29. Bc2 c5 30. e5 Re6 31. Re4 Qa7 32. Qb5 Rd5 33. Qe2 Qa1† 34. Kd2 Qa5† 35. Kc1 Qa1† 36. Kd2 Q×b2? Steinitz did not mention that he would have found survival difficult after 36. … Qa5†! 37. Kc1 Rd8. 37. Ke1 c4 38.  Re×d4 B×e5 39.  Re4 R×d1† 40.  B×d1 Bc3† 41.  Kf1 Q×e2† 42. R×e2 R×e2 43. K×e2 Bd4 44. Bc2 Kg7 45. Bf4 Nd5 ½–½ Remarkably this was Steinitz’s first draw in the tournament and his only one in the first cycle. Throughout the event, he drew only seven games (the same as Bird and Chigorin) and so had more days off than most of his rivals. Only Mortimer, of those who completed the event, played fewer draws. The replay was not held until the following Tuesday because Rosenthal had a prior engagement against Skipworth for the Friday and on Monday 21st he had to play Blackburne. On Saturday, 19 May there was a banquet at the Victoria Hall to mark the halfway point of the tournament, attended by about 70 gentlemen. In the absence of the Congress patron, the Duke of Albany (who was unable to attend), Dartrey took the chair. Kolisch was present as a guest, having traveled specially from Vienna for the occasion.17

554. S. Rosenthal–Steinitz London international (13.2), 22 May 1883 Three Knights’ Game (C46) Bachmann (game 520); Minchin (game 45), page 76.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 g6 4. d4 e×d4 5. Nd5 Bc5 6. Bc4 d6 7. Bg5 f6 8. Bh4 Kf8 9. Qd2 Kg7 10. b4 Bb6 11. N×b6 a×b6 12. N×d4 Qe7 13. f3 Ne5 14. Bb3 Nh6 15. 0–0 g5 16. Bg3 Nef7 17. Rae1 c5 18. Nb5 Rd8 19. f4 g4 20. Nc3 Be6 21. Nd5 B×d5 22. B×d5 Qc7 23. b×c5 b×c5 24. Rb1 Ra7 25.  Rb5 Re8 26.  Rfb1 Nd8 27.  e5 Nf5 28.  e×f6† K×f6 29. Qc3† Kg6 30. Re1 R×e1† 31. Q×e1 Qd7 32. Rb6 Nc6 33. Bh4 N×h4 34. Q×h4 Qf5 35. Bc4 Q×f4 36. Bd3† Kf7 37. Q×h7† Ke6 38. R×c6 Qe3† 39. Kf1 Qf4† 40. Kg1 Qe3† 41. Kf1 Qf4† 42. Ke2 Qe5† 43. Kd1 b×c6 44. Q×a7 Q×h2 45. Bf1 Qg1 46. Qa6 Qd4† 47. Kc1 Qf4† 48. Kd1 Qd4† 49. Qd3 Qa1† 50. Kd2 Q×a2 51. Qc4† Q×c4 52. B×c4† d5 53. Be2 g3 54. Ke3 Ke5 55. c4 Kf5 56. Kf3 Ke5 57. K×g3 Kd4 58. Kf4 d×c4 59. g4 1–0 Wednesday, 23 May was Derby Day and Rosenbaum, one of the committee, invited the players to drive out to Epsom in traditional horse-drawn coaches, fortified by the wares of Fortnum and Mason, to see the famous race, which that day

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was won by St. Blaise, ridden by Charles Wood and trained by John Porter. Steinitz’s letter to the New York paper says most of the players went on this excursion. His way of saying this, the absence of any description of the occasion from him, and the fact that he seems to have been in dispute with the committee, presumably means he was one of the few who did not go. What is known of the day out, and Kolisch’s blindfold game against Winawer on the way to the races, comes from Duffy’s account in the Illustrated London News.18 The committee had decided in the meantime, because of the accumulation of drawn pairings still to be completed, that the start of the second cycle would be postponed from Thursday, 24 May to Monday 28th. On the Thursday several disappointed spectators who had arrived early in the expectation of seeing a full set of games were given tickets for another day. Only one replay took place (between Noa and Winawer), and that was adjourned after 80 moves, Winawer finally winning the next day.19 Steinitz commented: “Most of the players who had to finish their draws claimed another holiday, probably because they had too much of a holiday at the Derby on the previous day.”20 On the Friday, Englisch drew with Mason and Rosenthal beat Mackenzie, so the scheduled game between Englisch and Rosenthal—scheduled for Saturday if their Friday games were decisive—was postponed again. Rosenthal did win but Mason only overcame Englisch at the third attempt on the Saturday. The situation (apart from Zukertort’s huge lead) was somewhat unclear with several newspapers publishing incorrect scores. It was probably because of the experience of these delays that the New York 1889 Congress (of which Steinitz was director) only replayed draws in the second half of the tournament. The actual scores when the second cycle began were: Zukertort 12 (having won against everyone except Steinitz); Mason 9½; Steinitz and Chigorin 9; Blackburne 8½, Bird and Winawer 7; then Englisch and Rosenthal 6½, who would eventually add another half point to each of their scores. The tail-enders were Mackenzie 5, Noa 3½, Sellman 3½, Skipworth 3 and Mortimer 0. In his letter bylined 22 May, but which appeared in Turf, Field and Farm only on 15 June, Steinitz wrote that he had been somewhat premature in saying that the committee behaved well on the whole. It should be impartial. “I think I may on general grounds reserve some remarks on the bearing of the committee towards myself…. Subsequent resolutions and actions of that body showed distinct signs of irritating hostility,” but he would not say any more until the tournament was over.

555. B. Englisch–Steinitz London international (14), 28 May 1883 Ruy Lopez (C70) Bachmann (game 521); Minchin (game 46), page 78.

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Steinitz in London

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 g6 5. d4 e×d4 6. N×d4 Bg7 7. Be3 Nf6 8. Nc3 0–0 9. N×c6 d×c6 10. Q×d8 R×d8 11. f3 Ne8 12. Bd2 Nd6 13. Bb3 c5 14. a3 c4 15. Ba2 Be6 16. 0–0–0 Nb5 17. N×b5 a×b5 18. Bf4 Rdc8 19. c3 c5 20. Bd6 Bf8 21. Bb1 b4 22. a×b4 c×b4 23. B×f8 K×f8 24. Rd6 b×c3 25. b×c3 Ra3 26. Kd2 b5 27. Bc2 Ke7 28. Rd4 Rd8 29. R×d8 K×d8 30. Re1 ½–½

556. H. E. Bird–Steinitz London international (15), 29 May 1883 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 522); Minchin (game 47), page 79. Bird played the Evans ineffectively against Steinitz’s unorthodox tenth move. White’s moves 12 and 13 were slow and move 14 a definite error. Steinitz did not play perfectly but he always stood better after this.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. 0–0 Bb6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 d6 9. Bb2 Nf6 10. d5 Ne7 11. B×f6 g×f6 12. a4 0–0 13. Kh1 f5 14. Ng5? h6 15. Nh3 f×e4 16. Ra3 Ng6 17. Rg3 Kh7?! 18. Qh5 Qh4 19. Ng5† Kg8 20. Q×h4 N×h4 21. Ne6† Ng6 22. N×f8 K×f8 23. Na3 Nf4 24. Nc2 c6 25. d×c6 b×c6 26. a5 Bd8 27. Nd4 Bd7 28. Rb3 d5 29. Ba6 c5 30. g3 c×d4 31. g×f4 B×a5 32. Bb7 Rd8 33. Ra1 Bb6 34. B×d5 Bf5 35. Bc4 d3 36. Rb5 Bg4 37. Rd5 Rc8 38. Bb3 B×f2 39. Kg2 Bb6 40. Bd1 Be6 41. Rh5 e3 42. f5 Bd5† 43.  Bf3 Rc2† 44.  Kg3 B×f3 45.  K×f3 Rf2† 46.  Ke4 e2 47. K×d3 Rf1 0–1 Wednesday, 30 May had been set aside for playing off drawn pairings. The Standard said that “quite a crowd” turned up to watch, although there were only four games. Steinitz complained about the committee’s decisions on pairings, saying that “much to the dissatisfaction of nearly all the players,” he had to play Englisch again and Rosenthal to play Winawer. The long-postponed Englisch versus Rosenthal pairing might have taken precedence. Steinitz wrote about the pairing issue in a letter sent to Turf, Field and Farm after the game: The committee have in the second round withheld the pairing list, which is given out from day to day, probably in order to conceal any alterations they may deem necessary, For many reasons it becomes the duty of the committee to make changes in the order of pairing, but then the course to be adopted should be similar to that at Vienna, where the preliminary pairing list was fully published beforehand and alterations were reserved, which subsequently were, however, made openly under the full responsibility of the committee. The present attempt at concealment creates general suspicion of favouritism.21

In the same article he provided a description of the game for his American readers, but he appears to have overlooked some tactical points mentioned in this author’s notes below. Englisch fianchettoed both his bishops (though Steinitz did not use that term) and then: … ingeniously sacrificed a P for the attack in the centre. Steinitz failed to win another P, which he could have done safely, after which

Englisch instituted a most powerful attack with extraordinary skill and judgment. However, at the critical moment he overlooked the gain of a piece to which Steinitz had subjected himself on the pressure of time limit. The end was that Steinitz had two Pawns for the exchange, but his Pawns could be easily stopped and the game was given up as drawn. Duration, 4 Hours.

557. Steinitz–B. Englisch London international (14.2), 30 May 1883 Ruy Lopez (C77) Bachmann (game 523); Minchin (game 48), page 80.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. d3 d6 6. c3 g6 7. d4 b5 8. Bb3 Bb7 9. a4 Bg7 10. d5 Ne7 11. Qe2 0–0 12. Bg5 Nd7 13. a×b5 Nc5 14. Bc2 f5 15. e×f5 g×f5 16. b4 Nd7 17. b×a6 e4 18. Nd4 B×d5 19. Ra5? c5 20. Bb3 B×b3 21. N×b3 Ne5 22. 0–0 Qc7 23. b5? N7g6 24. c4 d5 25. b6? Q×b6 26. Rb5 Qd6 27. c×d5 c4 28. N3d2 Ng4!? Simply 28. … Q×a6 or 28. … Rfc8 looks strong. 29. g3 c3 30. N×e4 f×e4 31. Q×g4 Q×a6 32. Qe6† Q×e6 33. d×e6 Rfc8 34. e7 c2 35. Nd2 h6 36. Be3 (see diagram)

After 36. Be3

rDrDwDkD DwDw)wgw wDwDwDn0 DRDwDwDw wDwDpDwD DwDwGw)w wDpHw)w) DwDwDRIw

36. … Ra4? 36. … N×e7 37. N×e4 Rc4 retains winning chances for Black. 37. Rc5 Steinitz missed 37. e8Q†! R×e8 38. Rc5 followed by the capture of the c-pawn with a probably winning endgame. 37. … N×e7 38. R×c8† N×c8 39. Rc1 Ra2 40. N×e4 Ne7 41. Kf1 Nc6 42. Ke2 Nb4 43. Kd2 Bb2 44. R×c2 N×c2 45. K×c2 Bg7† 46. Kd3 Ra4 47. h4 Kf7 48. Nc5 Ra1 49. Ke4 Rb1 50. Nd3 Rb5 51. Nf4 Re5† 52. Kf3 Ra5 53. Kg4 Rb5 54. Nh5 Bd4 55. B×d4 Rb4 56. Nf4 R×d4 57. Kh5 Rd6 58. Kg4 Kf6 ½–½ On the morning of 31 May, when the 16th round was played, it was announced that Skipworth had withdrawn from the tournament because of ill health. Steinitz had been drawn to play him in this round and so he had an unexpected day off. An unfortunate incident occurred at the end of this day’s play. When Mason and Winawer adjourned their game, the position was recorded incorrectly and when it was resumed the board was therefore set up with Black’s knight, which should have been on e7, placed instead on d7 and neither player noticed. Black was able to force a win with the illegal move 43. … Nc5 which cannot be shown in databases.22

12. Farewell to London, 1883

558. M. I. Chigorin–Steinitz London international (17), 1 June 1883 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 524); Minchin (game 49), page 82. Steinitz always played according to his principles so he did not avoid Chigorin’s favorite battle-ground but duly came off worst.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Bc5 ChessBase’s Mega17 and Big18 databases have 5. … Ba5 instead, arriving at the same position after move 8. 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. Nc3 Na5 10. Bg5 f6 In those days, Black’s best defense (10. … Ne7) had not yet been tried in practice although Chigorin had probably analyzed it. 11. Bf4 N×c4 12. Qa4† Qd7 13. Q×c4 Qf7 14. Nd5 g5?! 15. Bg3 Be6 Steinitz originally intended 15. … h5 but changed his mind when he saw it lost a pawn, but it would have been preferable to what occurred. 16. Qa4† Bd7 17. Qa3 Rc8 18. Rfe1 g4 19. N×b6 a×b6 20. Nd2 Be6 21. f4 g×f3 22. N×f3 Ne7 23. e5 f×e5 24. d×e5 d5 25. Rf1 Nf5 26. Nd4 Qg6 27. N×f5 B×f5 28. Bh4 c5 29. Rf3 Kd7 30. Raf1 Rhf8 31. Rg3 Qh6 32. Bf6 Be6 33. Qa7 Kc7 34. Rb3 Kd7 35. Q×b6 Rc6 36. Q×b7† Rc7 37. Qb5† Rc6 38. Qb7† Rc7 39. Qa6 1–0 On Saturday, 2 June, Englisch and Rosenthal resumed their pairing from the first cycle but drew again. They had also by now played one draw in the second cycle! In the evening Dartrey entertained the players and some of the committee to what Steinitz called “a splendid dinner” at his home in Curzon Street, Mayfair.

559. J. Mortimer–Steinitz London international (18.1), 4 June 1883 King’s Bishop’s Gambit (C33) Bachmann (game 527); Minchin (game 50), page 83. This game featured surprising lapses by Steinitz against the weakest player in the tournament.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Bc4 d5 4. B×d5 Qh4† 5. Kf1 g5 6. Nc3 Bg7 7. d4 Ne7 8. Nf3 Qh5 9. h4 h6 10. e5? 0–0 11. Kg1 g4 12. Ne1 Rd8 13. Nd3 Ng6? First he overlooked the win of two pieces for a rook by 13. … N×d5 14. N×d5 R×d5 15. N×f4 Q×e5 and lost a pawn instead. 14. N×f4 N×f4 15. B×f4 Nc6?! 16. B×c6 b×c6 17. Ne2?! c5 18. c3? Now the advantage passes to Black; 18. Ng3 Qg6 19. d5 was strong. 18. … Qg6 19. Qd2 Bb7 20. Rh2 c×d4 21. c×d4 c5 22. Qe3 c×d4 23. N×d4 h5 24.  g3 Rd5 25.  Rc1 Re8 26.  Rf2 B×e5 27.  B×e5 Rd×e5 28. Qf4 Re1† 29. R×e1 R×e1† 30. Rf1 R×f1† 31. K×f1 Qb1† 32. Kf2 Q×b2† 33. Ne2 Qb6† 34. Qe3 Qc6 35. Qf4 Qb6† 36. Qd4 Qa5 37. Qe3 Bf3 38. Nc3 Kg7 39. a4 Qf5 40. Ke1 a5 41. Kd2 Bc6 42. Qd4† f6 43. Ne2 Qd7 Steinitz wrote that before exchanging queens, he offered a draw, although a pawn ahead, though it is uncertain exactly when this happened. “Mortimer declined, relying upon his having a Kt

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against a Bishop, and a good game.” 44. Q×d7† B×d7 45. Nc3 Kf7 46. Ke3 Ke6 47. Kd4 (see diagram)

After 47. Kd4

wDwDwDwD DwDbDwDw wDwDk0wD 0wDwDwDp PDwIwDp) DwHwDw)w wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw

47. … f5? Karsten Müller has shown that Steinitz missed a forced win by 47. … Kf5 48. Nd5 (or 48. Kd5 Be6† 49. Kd4 Bb3 50. Ke3 Ke5 51. Kd3 Bf7 52. Ne2 Bg6† 53. Ke3 Be8 54. Nc3 f5 55. Kd3 f4) 48. … B×a4 49. Nf4 Be8. 48. Nd5 Kd6 49. Nf6 B×a4 50. N×h5 Be8 If 50. … Bb3 51. Nf4 Bg8 52. Kc3 Ke5 53. h5 Kf6 54. Kb2 Bc4 55. Ka3 Bb5 56. Nd5† Kg5 57. Nf4= (Müller). 51. Ng7? White could have drawn by 51. Nf4 a4 52. Kc3 Ke5 53. Kb4 Ke4 54. h5 Bf7 55. h6 Bg8 56. K×a4 Kf3 57. Nh5 (Müller). 51. … Bd7? 51. … Bg6 52. h5 Bh7 53. Ne8† Kc6 (Minchin gave 53. … Ke7.) 54. Nf6 f4 55. g×f4 g3 56. Ke3 a4 57. N×h7 g2 58. Kf2 a3 59. h6 a2 60. Ng5 g1Q† 61. K×g1 a1Q† (Müller). 52. h5 Ke7 53. h6 Kf7 54. Nh5! Kg6 55. h7 K×h7 56. Nf6† Kg6 57. N×d7 f4 58. g×f4 Kf5 59. Ke3 a4 60. Nc5 a3 61. Nb3 a2 62. Nd4† Kf6 63. Nc2 Kf5 ½–½

560. S. Winawer–Steinitz London international (19), 5 June 1883 Ruy Lopez (C60) Bachmann (game 528); Minchin (game 51), page 85. White ruined his position by a series of weak moves (23, 25, and 26) which Steinitz exploited with a neat combination.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 g6 4. B×c6 d×c6 5. d3 Bg7 6. Be3 Qe7 7. Nc3 Be6 8. 0–0 h6 9. Nd2 g5 10. a3 Nf6 11. f3 Nd7 12. Qe1 Following the tournament book; Bachmann and some databases like chessgames.com say White’s move was 12.  Qe2. 12.  … h5 13.  Qf2 b6 14.  Rfe1 c5 15.  Rab1 Nb8 16. Nd5 B×d5 17. e×d5 Nd7 18. c4 f6 19. d4 c×d4 20. B×d4 Qf7 21. Be3 h4 22. Ne4 0–0 23. g4? h×g3 24. h×g3 Qg6 25.  Qg2?! f5 26.  N×g5? f4 27.  g×f4 e×f4 28.  Bf2 Ne5! 29. Bh4 Rf5 30. Kf1 Bf6 31. Qc2 Re8 32. Ne6 N×f3! 33. B×f6 Qg1† 34. Ke2 Qe3† 35. Kf1 Nd2† 36. Q×d2 Q×d2 37. Bc3 Qd3† 38. Kf2 Qg3† 39. Ke2 Rh5 40. Kd1 Rh2 41. Kc1 Qf2 0–1

561. B. Englisch–Steinitz London international (14.3), 6 June 1883 Ruy Lopez (C60) Bachmann (game 529); Minchin (game 52), page 86.

Steinitz defeated Englisch at the third attempt. This game,

314

Steinitz in London

although undramatic, and despite White’s weak play, is a good example of Steinitz winning by the accumulation of small advantages. Réti included it in Masters of the Chess Board and it was also annotated in Neishtadt, pages 110–114. 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 g6 Steinitz played this move three times in the tournament (see Games 546 and 563). The tournament book says it was first suggested by Ranken in the Chess Player’s Chronicle. It had been played earlier in Loyd–From, Paris 1867, where White replied with the unimpressive 6. Nf3. 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 Bg7 6. Be3 Nf6 7. Nc3 0–0 8. 0–0 Ne7 9. Qd2 d5 10. e×d5 Ne×d5 11. N×d5 Q×d5 12. Be2 Ng4 13. B×g4 B×g4 14. Nb3 Q×d2 15. N×d2 Rad8 16. c3 Rfe8 17. Nb3 b6 18. h3 Be6 19. Rfd1 c5 20. Bg5?! f6 21. Bf4 Kf7 22. f3 g5 23. R×d8 R×d8 24. Be3 h6 25. Re1 f5 26. f4 Bf6 27. g3?! a5 Karsten Müller, annotating this ending, notes that Black threatens the typical undermining …a4– a3. 28. Nc1 a4 29. a3 Bc4 30. Kf2 Minchin calls this a weak move but Müller did not comment, perhaps because engines already consider White to be close to lost. 30. … g×f4!? “An interesting decision!” Müller says: “Steinitz liquidates into an endgame with R+B v R+N where his combination of long range pieces will reign supreme.” He indicates two alternatives: 30. … Rd5 (with the idea of …b4) or 30. … Kg6 to keep options open. 31. B×f4 Bg5 32. B×g5 h×g5 33. Ke3 Kf6 34. h4 g×h4 35. g×h4 Re8† 36. Kf2 R×e1 37. K×e1 Ke5 Müller points out that 37. … f4? would spoil the win: 38. Ne2 Kf5 39. h5 Kg5 40. h6 Bd3 41. Kf2 b5 42. c4! b4 43. Nc1 Bg6 44. Kf3=. 38. Ne2 B×e2 39. K×e2 Kf4 40. c4 Kg4 41. Ke3 f4† 42. Ke4 f3 43. Ke3 Kg3 0–1 By the time that Zukertort and Steinitz met for the second time, the first prize was almost decided but that did not prevent a large body of spectators coming to watch, as B.C.M. described: Zukertort’s lead was already such that the loss of this game would still have left him decidedly first favourite; but it was felt that the older player, if he failed to dethrone his rival, would have legitimate cause for triumph if successful in both games of their mutual encounter. The raised seats provided for the spectators—for whom, after most of the games in the Vizayanagaram Tourney had been cleared off, the accommodation was greatly increased—were on this occasion filled to overflowing; and the combatants were fully conscious of the conditions under which they played.23

562. Steinitz–J. H. Zukertort London international (20), 7 June 1883 Ruy Lopez (C77) Bachmann (game 525); Minchin (game 25), pages 39–42.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. d3 d6 6. c3 g6 7. d4 b5 8. Bc2 Bb7 9. d5 Ne7 10. a4 b×a4 11. B×a4† Nd7 12. h4 h6 13. h5 g5 14. g4 Nc8 15. Be3 Be7 16. Nbd2 0–0 17. Bc2 c6 18. c4 Ncb6 19. Ng1 Qc7 20. b3 Rfc8 21. d×c6 Q×c6 22. Ne2 a5 23. Nc3 a4 24. N×a4 N×a4 25. b×a4 Bd8 26. 0–0 Ba5 27. Qe2 B×d2 28. Q×d2 Q×c4 29. Bd3 Qe6

Runaway winner of London 1883, Johannes Zukertort. (This was the picture published with his obituary in the Illustrated London News, XCII [30 June 1888] page 708.)

30. f3 Nc5 31. B×c5 d×c5 32. Rfb1 c4 33. Bc2 c3 34. Qe3 Ba6 35. Rb6 Rc6 36. a5 Rac8 37. Kf2 Qc4 38. Bb3 Qd4 39. Bd5 R×b6 40. a×b6 c2 41. Q×d4 e×d4 42. Rc1 d3 43. Ke3 Rb8 44. b7 Kg7 45. Kd2 B×b7 46. B×b7 R×b7 47. K×d3 Rb3† 48. K×c2 R×f3 The game was adjourned here. 49. Rg1 Re3 50. Kd2 R×e4 51. Kd3 Rf4 52. Ke3 Kf6 53. Rg2 Ke5 54. Rg1 f5 55. Ra1 f×g4 56. Ra5† Kf6 57. Ra6† Kg7 58. Ra7† Rf7 59. Ra4 g3 60. Rg4 Rf4 61. R×g3 A seven-man endgame has arisen. The Lomonosov tablebase says Black can checkmate in 30 moves; Zukertort’s technique proved adequate to the task. 61. … Rh4 62. Kf2 R×h5 63. Ra3 Rh1 64. Ra6 Rb1 65. Kg3 Rb4 66. Rc6 Re4 67. Ra6 h5 68. Rb6 h4† 69. Kh3 Rf4 70. Ra6 Rf6 71. Ra8 Kg6 72. Rg8† Kh5 73. Rh8† Rh6 74. Rg8 Rh7 75. Ra8 g4† 76. Kg2 Rf7 77. Rh8† Kg5 78. Rg8† Kf4 79. Rh8 h3† 80. Kh2 Kf3 81. Rg8 Rf5 82. Rg7 Kf4 83. Rg8 Rf7 84. Rg6 Ra7 85. Rf6† Kg5 86. Rf2 Kh4 87. Rf1 Ra4 88. Rb1 g3† 89. Kh1 h2 0–1

563. A. Sellman–Steinitz London international (21), 8 June 1883 Ruy Lopez (C60) Bachmann (game 526); Minchin (game 53), page 87. The American blundered at move 29 in what was already becoming a difficult position.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 g6 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 Bg7

12. Farewell to London, 1883 6. Be3 Nf6 7. Nc3 0–0 8. 0–0 Ne7 9. Bc4 d5 10. e×d5 Ne×d5 11.  N×d5 N×d5 12.  B×d5 Q×d5 13.  c3 b6 14.  Qf3 Q×f3 15. N×f3 c5 16. h3 Be6 17. Rfd1 Rfd8 18. a3 Bb3 19. R×d8† R×d8 20.  Nd2 Ba4 21.  Re1 h6 22.  g4 Bf8 23.  Ne4 Bc6 24. Nd2 f6 25. h4 Kf7 26. f3 Rd5 27. Kf2 f5 28. g5 h5 29. Bf4? Bd6 30. c4 Rd4 31. Be3 R×h4 32. Nf1 Rh3 0–1

564. Steinitz–J. Mortimer London international (18.2), 9 June 1883 Queens Gambit (D40) Bachmann (game 530); Minchin (game 54), page 88. Steinitz obtained a somewhat favorable double rook (later single rook) endgame and outplayed Mortimer.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Nf3 c5 5. e3 Nc6 6. Bd3 Bd6 7. 0–0 Ne7 8. d×c5 B×c5 9. Na4 b6 10. N×c5 b×c5 11. b3 Ng6 12. Bb2 0–0 13. Rc1 Bb7 14. c×d5 Q×d5 15. B×f6 g×f6 16. B×g6 h×g6 17. Q×d5 B×d5 18. R×c5 B×f3 19. g×f3 Kg7 20. Rd1 Rh8 21. Rd7 Rhd8 22. Rcc7 R×d7 23. R×d7 e5 24. Rc7 f5 25. Kf1 Kf6 26. Ke2 Ke6 27. Rc6† Kd7 28. Rf6 Rf8 29. h4 Ke7 30. Ra6 Ra8 31. b4 Rh8 32. R×a7† Ke6 33. a4 R×h4 34. Rb7 Rc4 35. a5 e4 36. f×e4 f×e4 37. a6 Rc2† 38. Kf1 Ra2 39. a7 f5 40. b5 Kd6 41. b6 g5 42. Rb8 1–0

565. S. Rosenthal–Steinitz London international (22.1), 11 June 1883 Three Knights’ Game (C46) Bachmann (game 531); Minchin (game 55), page 90. The opening was weakly played on both sides and at move 20 Rosenthal overlooked a winning move that was not pointed out at the time. Later Steinitz should have won and eventually Rosenthal played well to hold an interesting endgame a piece down.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 g6 4. d4 e×d4 5. Nd5 Bg7 6. Bg5 Nce7 7. e5? h6 8. Bh4 g5 9. N×e7 Q×e7 10. Bg3 Qb4†? 11. Nd2 h5 12. h3 f5 13. e×f6 N×f6 14. Bd3 Kd8 15. 0–0 d6 16. h4 g4 17. a3 Qa4 18. Re1 Bd7 19. Nc4 Qc6 20. Qe2 20. Na5! Qd5 (or 21. … Qb6 22. Qd2 Bh6 23. Bf4) 21. b4 would lead to strong pressure against the Black king in the center. 20. … Re8 21. Qd2 Qd5 22. R×e8† K×e8 23. Qg5 Kf8 24. Nd2 Bc6 25. f3 Q×g5 26. h×g5 Nd5 27. f4 Re8 28. f5 Be5 29. Kf2 B×g3†?! 29. … Nf4 (Steinitz) or, even stronger, 29. … Bf4 should win for Black. 30. K×g3 Re3† 31. Kh4 Nf4 32. Nf1 Re5 33. Ng3 Be8 34. Be4 d5 35. Rf1 d×e4 36. R×f4 e3 37. g6 e2 38. N×e2 R×e2 39. Kg5! h4?! 40. R×g4 R×c2 41. R×h4 R×g2† 42. Kf6 Kg8 43. R×d4 R×b2 44. Rd8 Re2 45. Rc8 c5 46. R×c5 Bc6 47. Rc3 Rd2 48. Rh3 a5 49. Ke7 Be4 50. f6 B×g6 51. f7† B×f7 52. Rg3† Kh7 53. K×f7 Rf2† 54. Ke6 Rb2 55. Rg4 Kh6 56. Kd5 Kh5 57. Rg1 Kh4 58. Kc5 Rb3 59. a4 Rb4 60. Rg8 Kh5 61. Rg7 b6† 62. Kc6 R×a4 63. K×b6 ½–½ This game was played on the same day that Zukertort defeated Blackburne to clinch first prize.

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566. Steinitz–J. Mason London international (23.1), 12 June 1883 French Defense (C13) Bachmann (game 532); Minchin (game 56), page 92. Mason appeared to play for a draw, which he achieved.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. B×f6 B×f6 6. Nf3 0–0 7. Bd3 b6 8. e5 Be7 9. Ne2 c5 10. c3 Ba6 11. B×a6 N×a6 12. 0–0 Qd7 13. Ne1 f5 14. e×f6 B×f6 15. f4 Be7 16. Nf3 Bd6 17. g3 Nc7 18. Qc2 Ne8 19. Kg2 Nf6 20. Neg1 Rac8 21. Nh3 h6 22. Nf2 c×d4 23. N×d4 Bc5 24. Rad1 B×d4 25. R×d4 Qd6 26. Qe2 Rce8 27. Re1 Nd7 28. Nd3 Nb8 29. Ne5 Nc6 30. N×c6 Q×c6 31. Qc2 Rf6 32. Qa4 Q×a4 33. R×a4 Re7 34. Ra6 Rf8 35. a4 Kf7 36. Kf3 Rb8 37. Re5 Kf6 38. h4 Reb7 39. Ke3 Rc8 40. Kd2 Rc4 ½–½ The replay of this game, many days later, would be the last Steinitz played in the tournament.

567. Steinitz–S. Rosenthal London international (22.2), 13 June 1883 Ruy Lopez (C65) Bachmann (game 533); Minchin (game 57), page 93. Steinitz missed an easy win; then Rosenthal was awarded the brilliancy prize (offered by Howard Taylor) for his finish, though this game was far inferior to Zukertort’s win over Blackburne. Zukertort had won enough already.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. d3 Bc5 5. c3 Qe7 6. 0–0 0–0 7. d4 Bb6 8. B×c6 b×c6 9. N×e5 d6 10. N×c6 Q×e4 11. Nb4 c5 12. Nc2 Ba6 13. Re1 Qh4 14. f3 d5 15. Re5 c×d4 16. c×d4 Nd7 17. g3 Qh3 18. Re1 Rae8 19. Be3 Re6 20. Nc3 Nf6 21. Nb4 Rfe8 22. Qd2 Bc4 23. b3 Ba5 24. Nc2 Ba6 25. b4 Bc7 26. b5 Bb7? 27. Na4 Nh5 28. Nc5 N×g3 29. N×e6 R×e6 30. Bf4? 30. h×g3 B×g3 31. Qg2. 30. … Ne4!? 30. … B×f4 31. Q×f4 Ne2†. 31. R×e4? 31. Qg2. 31. … d×e4 32. B×c7 e×f3 33. Re1 Rg6†! 34. Bg3 R×g3†! 35. h×g3 f2†! 36. K×f2 0–1. Bachmann and ChessBase give the announced mate 36. … Qg2† 37. Ke3 Qf3 as played.

568. Steinitz–J. Noa London international (24.1), 14 June 1883 French Defense (C00) Bachmann (game 534); Minchin (game 58), page 94. Steinitz misplayed the opening and found himself in, as he put it, “an uncomfortable game.” By sacrificing a pawn at move 16 he liquidated to a position with opposite color bishops which Noa made no attempt to win.

1. e4 e6 2. e5 d5 3. e×d6 B×d6 4. d4 Nf6 5. Nf3 b6 6. Bb5† Bd7 7. Bd3 0–0 8. 0–0 Nc6 9. Re1 Re8 10. Nc3 e5 11. d×e5 N×e5 12. N×e5 R×e5 13. R×e5 B×e5 14. Bg5 Bc6 15. Bf1 Qe7 16. Nd5 B×d5 17. B×f6 Q×f6 18. Q×d5 Rd8 19. Qe4 B×b2 20. Re1 Ba3 21. Bd3 g6 22. Qe5 ½–½

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Steinitz in London

569. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne London international (25), 15 June 1883 French Defense (C00) Bachmann (game 535); Minchin (game 59), pages 95–96; Blackburne (game 413). Steinitz misplayed his attack and then Blackburne missed two successive saving shots.

1. e4 e6 2. e5 b6 3. f4 Bb7 4. Nf3 f6 5. d4 Nh6 6. Bd3 f5 7. 0–0 Be7 8. c4 c5 9. d5 e×d5 10. c×d5 B×d5 11. B×f5 Bb7 12. Bd3 0–0 13. Qc2 Nc6 14. B×h7† Kh8 15. Bg6 d5 16. Nc3 c4 17. Qe2 Bc5† 18. Kh1 Bc8 19. Ng5 Bg4 20. Qe1 Ne7 21. Bc2 Qe8 22. Bd2 Qh5 23. Na4?! Decentralizing; there were several better moves including 23.  h3, 23.  Bd1 and 23. Rc1. 23. … Nef5 24. N×c5 b×c5 25. e6 Rae8 26. Bd1 Re7 27. Bf3 Nd4 28. Qe5?! 28. B×d5! (Steinitz) 28. … Be2 29. Be3 is better for White but not yet a clear win. 28. … N×f3 29. g×f3 B×e6 30. Rae1 Rfe8!? Usually criticized but not fatal; 30. … Nf5! 31. N×e6 Rf6 should soon lead to a draw. 31. N×e6 Q×e5?? 31. … Nf5! still works, this time because of 32. N×g7 N×g7 and if 33. Q×e7 R×e7 34. R×e7 Qf5 (Stockfish 10), when the typical computer “0.00” evaluation means all three results are possible. 32. R×e5 R×e6 33. R×d5 Rf6 34. Rg1 Nf5 35. Bc3 Nd4 36. R×c5 R×f4 37. R×c4 Ne2 38. R×f4 N×f4 39. R×g7 Re1† 40. Rg1† 1–0

570. J. Noa–Steinitz London international (24.2), 16 June 1883 Ruy Lopez (C70) Bachmann (game 536); Minchin (game 60), page 97. Noa blundered early in the game.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nge7 5. d4 e×d4 6. N×d4 N×d4 7. Q×d4 b5 8. Bb3 d6 9. c4 Be6 10. Bg5 h6 11. Be3 Nc6 12. Qc3? d5! 13. c×d5 Bb4 14. d×e6 f×e6 15. B×e6 Qf6 16. Bd5 0–0–0 17. 0–0 B×c3 18. N×c3 Ne7 19. Bb3 c6 20. Rac1 Kb7 21. f4 Qd6 22. e5 Qb4 23. f5 Nc8 24. Rf4 Qe7 25. Be6 Rd3 26. Kf2 R×e3 27. K×e3 Qc5† 28. Ke4 Qb4† 29. Ke3 Q×b2 30. Rff1 Rd8 31. B×c8† K×c8 32. f6 Qd2† 33. Ke4 Qd3† 34. Kf4 Rd4† 0–1 After this win, Steinitz had scored 17 points with two games to play while Blackburne, who also won a replay that day (against Bird), was on 16½. That turned out to be his final score but Steinitz was not to know that. He made sure of second prize by winning his last round game and the outstanding replay against Mason.

571. Steinitz–G. H. Mackenzie London international (26), 18 June 1883 Ruy Lopez (C77) Bachmann (game 537); Minchin (game 61), page 98. Steinitz’s run of victories against strong opponents at the end of the tournament (spoiled only by the blunder against Rosenthal) do show that he was returning to his

best form, helped by choosing sounder openings in the second half. Mackenzie, who had done poorly in the first half (apparently concerned by the ill health of his mother in Scotland) scored 10½ in the second cycle when she had recovered. In this game, however, Steinitz was too good for him.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. d3 Bc5 6. c3 0–0 7. B×c6 b×c6 8. N×e5 d5 9. d4 Bb6 10. N×c6 Qe8 11. Ne5 N×e4 12. 0–0 f6 13. Nd3 Bd7 14. Re1 Qf7 15. f3 Nd6 16. Bf4 Nf5 17. Nd2 Rae8 18. Nf1 g5 19. Bg3 h5 20. Nc5 Bb5 21. Qc2 Ng7 22. a4 B×f1 23. K×f1 h4 24. Bf2 B×c5 25. d×c5 c6 26.  Qd3 Ra8 27.  b4 Ne6 28.  g3 h×g3 29.  h×g3 Kg7 30.  Qf5 Rae8 31.  b5 a×b5 32.  a×b5 c×b5 33.  Ra6 Nc7 34. R×e8 Q×e8 35. Ra7 Qb8 36. c6 Rf7 37. Bd4 Kf8 38. Qg6 Ke7 39. Bc5† Ke6 40. g4 Rf8 41. Qf5† Kf7 42. Qh7† 1–0 On the same day, Blackburne drew with Englisch for the second time and on Tuesday, 19 June, while Steinitz had a game, Blackburne had to sit on the sidelines because Englisch had a replay with Mackenzie. Steinitz needed to beat Mason to secure second prize lest Blackburne emerged victorious against both Englisch and Rosenthal, against whom he had unfinished business.

572. J. Mason–Steinitz London international (23.2), 19 June 1883 Queen’s Pawn Game (D00) Bachmann (game 538); Minchin (game 62), page 99; Pritchett (game 16), page 121.

1. d4 d5 2. Bf4 c5 3. d×c5 Nc6 4. Nf3 f6 5. e3 e5 6. Bg3 B×c5 7. c3 Nge7 8. Nbd2 Bb6 9. Be2 0–0 10. 0–0 Nf5 11. e4 N×g3 12. h×g3 d4 13. c×d4 e×d4 14. Bc4†?! Kh8 15. Nb3 Bg4 16. Bd5 Ne5 17. B×b7 Rb8 18. Bd5 f5 19. Nbd2 f4 20. Qa4 N×f3† 21. N×f3 f×g3 22. f×g3 Qd6 23. Nh2 d3† 24. Kh1 Be2 25. R×f8† R×f8 26. Bb3 Q×g3 27. Qd7 d2 28. Q×d2 Bc7 29. e5 Q×e5 30. Nf3 R×f3 0–1 Thus Steinitz had finished his schedule and won the second prize of £175, equivalent to more than £17,300 in 2018 values. He finished three points behind Zukertort but two and a half ahead of Blackburne in third place, though a committee decision deprived Blackburne of the chance of adding another point to his score. The multiple replays were causing a logjam at the end of the event. On Wednesday the 20th, the last day that the organizers had booked the Victoria Hall in the Criterion Restaurant, Blackburne and Englisch drew a second time while Mackenzie beat Rosenthal. This meant the English master was secure in third and Chigorin in fourth, but Englisch still had to play Rosenthal in addition to Blackburne’s two unfinished pairings. The final games (both won by Englisch) were probably played at the St. George’s Club but Minchin did not say. Eventually the replay between Rosenthal and Blackburne never took place and was scored 0–0, although Blackburne turned up to play it.

Draws were replayed with reverse colors, twice if necessary. Only in the case of a third draw did the players score half a point each. Draws which did not count are shown with an equals sign. Blackburne v. Rosenthal in the second cycle was never replayed and scored 0 for both. There is a space in each cell between the results of the first and second cycles. Skipworth only played one game in the second cycle before withdrawing.

22 19 16½ 16 15½ 15½ 15½ 14 13 12 9½ 6½ 3 3 10 1+ 1 =1 1 + 11 1+ 10 1+ 11 1+ =1 1 1 + =1 1 1 + 1 1 =1 + 11 1+ =1 1 =1 + 11 0+ 11 0+ • 01 10 • 11 11 10 11 1 =1 11 0 =1 1 =1 =1 1 10 =1 0 1 =1 =0 1 11 =1 1 0 =1 1 =1 ==½ =1 1 1 ==½ 1 1 ==1 =1 0 01 =0 1 =0 1 ==1 0 1 =1 • 00 11 11 • 01 00 10 • =0 0 00 00 =0 – 1– 1– • 01 =1 1 1 =1 ==1 1 1 =0 11 11 =1 =1 10 • 10 00 0 ==1 11 1 =1 =0 =0 11 =0 0 01 • 01 1 ==0 =0 0 1 =1 =1 = ==½ ==1 0 =0 11 10 • 0 =1 11 =0 1 0 ==1 10 ==0 0 1 ==0 0 ==1 1 =0 • ==½ ==½ ==0 0 ==½ ==1 01 0 =1 00 =1 1 00 ==½ ==½ • 0 =1 =0 =1 01 00 0 =0 0 =0 =1 0 ==1 1 1 =0 • =1 0 =1 0 0 0 =1 =1 =0 = 1 ==0 ==½ ==0 =1 =0 =0 1 • ==½ ==1 =0 =0 0 0 ==½ ==0 0 1 10 10 =0 1 ==½ ==0 • 00 00 1 =0 01 =1 -0 1 =0 00 =0 1 =1 0 00 0 =0 0 =0 =0 1 00 0 =0 ==½ 0 10 ==0 1 01 00 =0 0 0 =0 =0 0 ==½ =0 0 ==0 =1 0 0 =0 01 0 =0 00 01 00 =0 0 =0 0 00 00 0– 0– 0– 0– 0– 0– 0– =0 – 0– Zukertort, Johannes H. Steinitz, William Blackburne, Joseph H. Chigorin, Mikhail I. Englisch, Berthold Mackenzie, George H. Mason, James Rosenthal, Samuel Winawer, Szymon A. Bird, Henry E. Noa, Josef Sellman, Alexander G. Mortimer, James Skipworth, Arthur B. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

London 1883

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

Pts

12. Farewell to London, 1883

317

The Last Column Immediately after the tournament, Steinitz lost little time in challenging Zukertort to a match to start at any time between 1 October and New Year’s Day 1884. The term “World Championship” was not yet mentioned. From this it is evident that Steinitz had not yet made definite arrangements to return to America, but only did so after learning that his challenge was refused. In a letter dated 24 June, his second Robert Steel wrote to Minchin proposing draft conditions, but Minchin replied three days later after having a conversation with Zukertort. The latter could not “bind himself to play a match of chess at any future period,” because he intended to tour abroad, but Minchin added that he had no doubt that after Zukertort’s return a match could be arranged and he would “be happy to use my good offices to bring this about.” Subsequently Steinitz appears to have found out that Zukertort was soon going to America. In the same letter to Turf, Field and Farm in which he revealed this news, Steinitz made some comments on his rival’s development which to some extent echo Potter’s in Chapter 8. His remarks contain a grain of truth but were expressed with amazing but typical arrogance: Zukertort’s characteristics of style are essentially that of the modern school, of which, however, he showed not the least trace when he came to England in 1872. He has acquired all his knowledge of pressing the attack less against the King than on the Queen’s wing and in the centre under the practical and theoretical tuitions of Steinitz…. Zukertort’s victory will go a long way towards neutralizing the effects of his defeats by Steinitz in the match of 1872, and in two previous tournaments, viz., of London 1872 and Vienna 1882.24

Another sign that he might have been willing to remain in England is that Steinitz acquired a column in a short-lived new sporting magazine entitled Ashore or Afloat: a weekly review of Sport, Fisheries, etc., at home and abroad, which began publication on 6 July 1883, with chess in the first issue. Steinitz began by printing the aforementioned exchange of letters between Steel and Minchin. As a postscript he added that after receiving Minchin’s letter, Steel told Zukertort personally that Steinitz would be willing to start a match immediately, but Zukertort (still recovering from his victory) “declined the proposition.” Steinitz was not able to leave it at that, but seized on the detail that Minchin had described his rival as “Dr. Zukertort.” With little tact but considerable justification (since there has never been proof that Zukertort was a doctor of medicine or anything else), Steinitz said he would like to know why “Dr.” Zukertort “so modestly dropped the prefix to his name” when competing in tournaments with the likes of Dr. Meitner and Dr. Noa who had undoubtedly earned their doctorates. Later in the same article, he compared the London tournament unfavorably with Vienna which he had won the previous year. Moreover, for the first time in England, he

318

Steinitz in London

made the accusation which he had previously put in his letters to the American paper that the tournament committee had shown favoritism to Zukertort, or at least the opposite to himself. In his second article, on 13 July, Steinitz took issue with The Chess-Monthly for disagreeing with him on various matters including the relative significance of match and tournament victories. He continued to imply that Zukertort was using the excuse of a “tour round the world” to duck a legitimate challenge. On 3 August the target of his remarks was MacDonnell. In the same vein, Steinitz kept on in subsequent articles, giving hardly any general chess information that would interest an ordinary reader with a casual interest in chess, and no interest at all in Steinitz’s accusations and selfjustifications. Steinitz’s last contribution appeared on 7 September.25 Somebody must have complained to the paper’s management and on page 330 (14 September) the following announcement appeared, after which the un-bylined column

James Innis Minchin, honorary secretary of the St. George’s Chess Club and the London 1883 tournament committee. Photograph by Doré of Regent Street, London. (Cleveland Public Library Digital Gallery.)

subsided into boredom. This paper was last published on 11 January 1884. NOTICE.—In consequence of want of agreement between Herr Steinitz and the proprietors of ASHORE OR AFLOAT relative to the powers or authority of the former in conducting the chess column, Herr Steinitz has resigned the editorship of that department, which will in future be edited by another gentleman, of great reputation in the chess world.26

This was Steinitz’s last chess column in England, and he left permanently for America soon after it ended. His criticisms of the organization of the London tournament also led to his resigning his honorary membership of the St. George’s Club in September. This he did because, he said, of “his dissatisfaction with the action of some members who had also belonged to the Committee of the London Congress” and who had not answered his criticisms publicly expressed.27 All this came to light much later, after James D. Séguin, chess editor of the New Orleans Times Democrat, alleged that Steinitz had been “dropped from the list of honorary members of the great City of London Chess Club” and avoided a similar fate at the St. George’s Club only by resigning. The former, as we have seen, was technically untrue and Steinitz denied the second allegation too, writing in International Chess Magazine that when he resigned, just before his departure from England, he received a polite reply from the honorary secretary, James Minchin to the following effect: “My Dear Sir: The Committee of the St. George’s Chess Club desire me to express their regret that you should cease to be, at your own wish, an honorary member of their society.” Steinitz said that he believed that there “is not much ill feeling against me” among the members of that society, as it belonged to the direct subscribers to his magazine.28 Thus Steinitz cut his last chessic tie with England and, leaving his daughter and her mother behind, left the country permanently three months after the London Congress. Ironically, the vessel on which he sailed was the SS England. The exact sailing details are unavailable. On board, just before departure, he wrote the last of his letters to Turf, Field and Farm which was datelined 14 October but published on 26 October. In this article, which is included in full as Appendix VI, he replied to a personal attack on himself published in the editorial at the start of the September 1883 number of The Chess-Monthly. Here is what they said about him. For a long time past we have been constantly attacked and abused by Mr. Steinitz; but, in common with all the leading players of this country, he has taught us to look upon his insults as an honourable distinction. The late London Tournament has given Mr. Steinitz an opportunity to widen the area of his scurrilous onslaughts, which are now directed against its managing committee. It is not difficult to find out Mr. Steinitz’s real grievance, but how about the complaints he brings forward? He had not been consulted about the formation of the committee during his tour in the States. We can assure Mr. Steinitz that he would have been quite as little troubled about the matter even if he had not been absent. Everybody knows Mr. Steinitz’s

12. Farewell to London, 1883 happy nature. There is not one Tournament in which he has taken part without a protest of some kind. The late London Tournament passed off without the slightest contention from any other of the players. The position of the members of the Playing Committee was quite a sinecure, barring one single instance, when Mr. Steinitz in his end-game against Zukertort claimed the fifty-move rule, and was overruled by Mr. F. H. Lewis.29 Why did Mr. Steinitz not appeal against this decision? Mr. Steinitz contends that he can point out at least seven members of the committee who were more favourable to the first prize-winner than to himself. We defy Mr. Steinitz to find seven members of any committee or club in the whole Chess world who would be particularly friendly to him. If a man has been twenty years in a country, and has succeeded, like Mr. Steinitz, in alienating his friends and well-wishers, is the whole of the Chess community wrong and is he right? We would ask Mr. Steinitz why he was compelled to resign the Westminster Club? Why a vote of censure, couched in the strongest terms, was all but passed on his conduct in the City Club? Why he was not admitted to Simpson’s Chess-rooms for some months, until some of the members petitioned the directors for his readmission? Why was he not on speaking terms with Messrs. Staunton, Wormald, and Boden? Why is he not on speaking terms with Blackburne, Bird, Duffy, MacDonnell, Potter, Hoffer, Zukertort? It was his peace-loving temperament, we suppose, which led him to fight battles royal in England and abroad. Caesar evidently wanted to be “dictator,” as one of our American contemporaries says. The result of the Tourney put his Caesarian position into question, and he secures it by wholesale abuse of all connected with the Tournament, foremost of all, of course, of the first prize-winner, who can well afford to bear the whole vocabulary of Mr. Steinitz’s compliments save when the latter claims him as his pupil.30

319

they arrived. The (London) Morning Post of 27 October 1884 said Steinitz’s new magazine would start in January and he must have been busily planning it. His address was stated to be 169 and 170 Fulton Street, New York. As he looked back on his London years in the International Chess Magazine, Steinitz continued to fight long-running “ink wars” with Hoffer through its pages. Some of the things Steinitz wrote can be found in Appendix VII. Steinitz was busy throughout 1885 with the launch and production of the International Chess Magazine, and the complicated preparations for his long-awaited match with Zukertort, full discussion of which is beyond the scope of this work. Undoubtedly some subtle diplomacy was needed to enable these quarrelsome adversaries to come to terms. J. I. Minchin, as before, was Zukertort’s second. Steinitz’s part in the final stages of the negotiations was taken by

Aftermath, 1884 Onwards It is not known what arrangements, if any Steinitz had made for his family. His “commonlaw wife” and daughter had remained in London, probably because his future was uncertain and perhaps to enable Flora to complete her schooling. The women did eventually cross the Atlantic to join him. Landsberger says they came to America after two years but according to MacDonnell’s column, in August 1884, it was less than 12 months: “Mr. Steinitz is so pleased with America that he has resolved to reside permanently in New York. His family, consisting I believe of wife and daughter, will join him there next month.”31 Steinitz probably never set foot anywhere in Britain or continental Europe between October 1883 and the summer of 1895 (when he played at Hastings), unless he made an undocumented private visit to assist Caroline and Flora with their move. It almost certainly was the fall of 1884 when

Flora Steinitz on the cover of the Cuban magazine El Sport during Steinitz’s visit to Havana, only a few weeks after her death.

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Thomas Frère, of New York, whose biography is perhaps the best place to read how the match was finally brought about.32 The match was for stakes of $2,000 (about £500 sterling in those days) and it had been agreed that the first player to win ten games (draws not counting) would also be declared World Champion—although there was not yet any official body to confer that title, which essentially became the property of the winner. The progress of the match may be followed from Steinitz's point of view in the pages of his magazine, starting with the February number of volume 2. Sets of games were held in three cities, with breaks which enabled Steinitz to prepare two issues of his magazine while the contest was still in progress. Play began in New York on 11 January 1886 when Steinitz won the first game with the Black pieces. Then Zukertort won four games in succession before the match was adjourned for two weeks. It resumed on 3 February in St. Louis, Missouri, where Steinitz won three of the four games played, the other being drawn, so at the second adjournment the players stood all square at four victories apiece, requiring six more wins. The next phase of the match began on 26 February in New Orleans, where the drawn tenth game was followed by two wins for Steinitz before Zukertort won the 13th game. An adjournment of one week followed for the Mardi Gras carnival in that city. In the final phase of the match, which commenced on 12 March, Steinitz thoroughly outplayed Zukertort, who did not win another game. The match ended on 19 March in Zukertort's total collapse, Steinitz taking the 20th game in 19 moves with his own gambit, and thus he won the match by 10–5 with five draws.

It is known that Flora, by now a handsome young woman of 18, helped her father with secretarial work and preparation of the magazine. Tragically, she fell ill with rheumatic fever in 1887 and died on 14 January 1888, in her 22nd year, a terrible loss to him.33 When he went to Havana a few weeks later to play his matches with Andrés Vázquez and Celso Golmayo, Steinitz must have brought a photograph of her with him. It appeared on the front page of the March issue of a Cuban magazine, El Sport. A few months later Zukertort also died. The loss of Flora’s love and practical support may well (as Landsberger says) have contributed to the failure of the magazine. Steinitz probably lost much of his energy and motivation and now needed to employ secretaries, of whom W.H.K. Pollock was one. After seven annual volumes, the International Chess Magazine closed. Volume 7 was nominally for 1891 but the last issue included the 23rd and final game of Steinitz’s second successful defense of the world title against Chigorin, which was played on 28 February 1892. In the meantime, Steinitz became a citizen of the United States of America. According to Landsberger, he filed his application on 6 October 1886. He points out that the dates given in Hannak’s biography (25 October 1886) and Bachmann’s collection (23 October 1888) cannot be right, and proves that the correct date was 23 November 1888.34 Incidentally, that is confirmed in the next chapter by an image of a document Landsberger did not know about. This was also, as he says, when Steinitz became formally William instead of Wilhelm. He had never wanted to be British. Previously he had always been a citizen of the Austro-Hungarian empire and had traveled on Austrian documents.

13. Last Visits to England, 1895–1899 This chapter deals primarily with Steinitz’s last two tournaments in Britain (Hastings 1895 and London 1899) but covers some other ground also, since he did visit England in 1897 without playing any competitions. Also some of his movements on the European continent are outlined, especially where it is necessary to correct errors and omissions in the standard Landsberger biography. After London 1883, Steinitz did not play in Europe again for over 10 years, but he resumed some contact with British chess-players in 1893 when he began a correspondence match with Liverpool Chess Club. In the meantime his circumstances had changed. He had successfully defended the World Championship three times (twice against Chigorin and once against Gunsberg) but a new rival, Lasker, was clearly a strong threat in the early 1890s. On the personal front, Steinitz had lost not only his daughter and his magazine (last published in 1891) but his partner too—and acquired a new one. Caroline Golder Steinitz died on 27 May 1892; discounting long separations, they had been together for 27 years. By then he had moved from Brooklyn to Montclair, New Jersey, his base for several years. He probably married his second wife Elizabeth (if he did) around 1893 or early 1894. Her maiden name is unknown but Landsberger found that she was Swiss, had been born in February 1864 and had immigrated to the United States in 1887. Their son William was born in December 1894 and a daughter, Juliet (or Julia) followed.1 Going on her stated age in 1900, Landsberger suggested she had a different father, but U.S. Federal census data subsequently released show that she could well have been Steinitz’s natural daughter.2 After losing the World Chess Championship to Lasker in 1894, Steinitz was forced by financial need to return to the Old Continent where there were more opportunities. His long-running column in the New York Tribune had come to an end in August 1893 and he was struggling to find a publisher for the second part of his Modern Chess Instructor.3 He spent much of the second half of the 1890s in Europe, from when he returned to Europe for Hastings 1895 before

traveling on to events on the Continent. In 1896 he only had one brief visit home and he spent just over half of 1897 and the first half of 1898 in America. Eventually he suffered declining performances as age and ill health overtook him. Since this book (after the first chapter) is primarily concerned with Steinitz’s experiences in Britain and with British players, the only tournaments included will be Hastings 1895 and London 1899. Nevertheless, in order to paint a fuller picture, some additional information will be provided about Steinitz’s movements during the periods when he was in Europe in the second half of the 1890s.

First Match with Liverpool Correspondence matches played for money against amateurs were one way to raise a small amount of cash (if the opponent paid for postage or telegram costs) and Steinitz was not the only master to play several of these. They were feasible only when he was based at home and not traveling to tournaments. In 1886/7 he had played against Huntingdon Chess Club in Pennsylvania and four games from 1888 to 1890 against Messrs. H. M. Gorham and W. E. Lester of Gold Hill, Nevada, are well known. Starting in late 1893, when he was living in Upper Montclair, New Jersey, Steinitz had two postal matches underway. One was against Miss Eliza Foot of the New York Ladies’ Chess Club (perhaps not for money) and the other was against Liverpool Chess Club, the first of two matches Steinitz was to play against them. It consisted of two games, one of which he won and the other was drawn. The second match consisted of just one game in which the agreed opening was a line in the Steinitz Gambit. Probably it was the last game he ever completed and it can be found near the end of this chapter. The first Liverpool match was omitted from the index of Ludwig Bachmann’s Schachmeister Steinitz (volume 4), although he included the games: the first with a mistake in the score, the second truncated. Landsberger also failed to mention

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that match.4 The first Liverpool match, but not the second, can be found in Carlo Pagni’s collection of correspondence games involving clubs, Scacchi Senza Quartiere. Sid Pickard’s collections (both his book and later CD-ROM database) do include all three games, although there is some doubt about the finish of one of them in his version. Although the three games played with Liverpool were certainly not previously unknown, there have been mis-statements about them, and the finish of one of them is incorrect in ChessBase’s correspondence game database. In recent years the Liverpool Chess Club has improved its website greatly and posted some of the club’s annual reports, from which it is possible to find some details that were not previously available. Steinitz’s contacts with the Liverpool Chess Club, which had been founded in 1837, dated back at least to 1874 when he had spent a week as a guest of the club (as recounted in Chapter 9). He probably visited it on other occasions, though one would like to have more information about such occasions. It is unclear whether the 1893/4 match arose as a result of a challenge to the club, or whether Steinitz took the initiative, seeking opponents who would pay him for a game. It is generally supposed that Steinitz must have been paid a fee by the club for both matches but the Liverpool Club reports for the relevant years do not include any specific item in the accounts under Expenditure for payments to Steinitz during the first match. The 1899 accounts do however show: “Fee to Mr. Steinitz, £3. 3s.; fee for Correspondence Games, £5.” The first of these payments would have been in connection with Steinitz’s visit to the club in September 1898, mentioned below. Part of the £5 was perhaps owing from the earlier match, or perhaps a member had paid Steinitz for that privately. The costs of cabling the moves to New York were probably hidden under Postage in the accounts. Steinitz referred to this match near the end of the second part of his Modern Chess Instructor, where he annotated Game 574: This game formed part of a match of two games by cable, played by the Editor against a council of the Liverpool Chess Club. The contest began early in November, 1893, and lasted for twelve months having been adjourned during the match between Messrs. Lasker and Steinitz. The other game, a Ruy Lopez, was won by the Editor, though he ought to have lost it at one time.5

The Liverpool Chess Club report for 1894 (pages 4–5) provides a slightly different start date, saying the match began in October 1893. It may be that they started in October but by the time Steinitz replied with his first moves it was November. The report states that the “Revising committee” appointed to conduct the match consisted of Messrs. Cairns, A. Dod, S. Wellington, W. W. Rutherford, Howard, and A. Rutherford. The match was adjourned during Steinitz’s first match with Lasker, which began on 15 March 1894 and ended on 26 May.6 The first game to finish, which Liverpool lost, was the one they referred to as the “B” game; it ended just in time to be included in the club’s 1894 report which is dated

30 September. The games are presented in the order in which they were finished.

573. Liverpool Chess Club–Steinitz Correspondence match (1), October 1893–September 1894 Ruy Lopez (C62) Bachmann (game 772); the first publication of this game may have been in the Illustrated London News, CV (10 November 1894), page 598, with some notes by J. W. Abbott.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 d6 4. d4 Bd7 5. Nc3 Nge7 6. d×e5 d×e5 7. Bg5 f6 8. Be3 Nc8 9. Nh4 g6 10. 0–0 Nd6 11. f4 Bh6 12. Kh1 N×b5 13. N×b5 0–0 14. Bc5 Rf7 15. f5 g5 The Schachzeitung published the moves to here in May (following an earlier installment in April) but was well behind the real situation. 16. Ng6!? Abbott wrote that: “This is the crux of the whole game. It is proved to be unsound by what follows.” There were certainly better and safer moves available. Neither side played precisely in the next few moves. 16. … Bg7 17. Nc3 Stockfish 10 proposes 17. h4, with chances for both sides. 17. … b6? After this mistake Liverpool does have a strong attack, whereas 17. … Be8 looks like a refutation. 18. Ba3 Be8 19. Nd5 When the game was about to resume after the Lasker match, the Liverpool Mercury of 30 June 1894 published the moves so far played with a diagram of the current position. 19. … Rd7 20. Qh5? The Liverpool Club report repeated the comment made in the Liverpool Mercury of 20 October when the complete score was published: “White’s 19th and 20th moves were made without appreciating the full effect of Black’s 21st move. It is a question whether some other way of continuing the attack might not have been found, so as to make the offer of the Kt on move 16 perfectly sound.” Steinitz was correct to say he could have lost this game. The correct way forward (and White’s only good continuation) was 20. Nge7†, e.g., 20. … N×e7 (or 20. … R×e7 21. B×e7) 21. B×e7 R×e7 (or 21. … R×d5 22. B×d8 R×d1 23. Ra×d1 with the exchange up) 22. N×e7† and if 22. … Q×e7 then 23. Qd5† forks king and rook. 20. … R×d5 20. … Nd4?! would allow the resource 21. Be7! h×g6 22. f×g6 when Black must play 22. … Q×e7! 23. N×e7† R×e7 and probably stands worse (A. Smith and H. Tikkanen, The Woodpecker Method, page 251). 21. e×d5 Nd4 22. Ne7† Q×e7 23 Qxg5 Bachmann had 23. Qd1 here; some databases have followed him. 23. … Qd7 A version of this game was included in ChessBase’s correspondence database 2002 and subsequent editions. It differs from the authentic game by ending with “23. … Qf7 0–1”; this move would also win for Black, but 23. … Qd7 was played. 24. Qd2 Bf7 25. c4 N×f5 26. b4 Nd6 0–1 Liverpool: “At this point White resigned, as Black, with the superiority of force, must win in the end.” The Liverpool Mercury of 29 September 1894 reported that the club had resigned and said “The other is in a critical position— for the club.”

13. Last Visits to England, 1895–1899

574. Steinitz–Liverpool Chess Club Correspondence match (2), October 1893–November 1894 Giuoco Piano (C50) Steinitz’s notes to this game can be found in the Modern Chess Instructor, on pages 61–62 of part 2, with the moves on page 58. White’s gambit is trappy but more suited to over-the-board than correspondence play. Bachmann game 773 ended after 22 moves and wrongly said the game remained undecided.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. 0–0 Nf6 5. d4!? B×d4 6. N×d4 N×d4 7. f4 d6 8. f×e5 d×e5 9. Bg5 Qe7 10. Kh1?! The modern treatment is 10. Na3 as in N. Short–Fressinet, Khanty-Mansiysk olympiad 2010. 10.  … Be6 10.  … Bd7 should give Black a sound position. 11. Bd3 0–0–0 12. Qe1 h6 12. … Nc6 was played later in the fourth Steinitz–Schiffers match game at Rostov-on-Don, 1896. 13. B×f6 g×f6 14. Nc3 Rhg8 15. Qf2 Qd6 16. Q×f6 Rg6 17. Qf2 Rdg8 18. Rg1 h5 19. Nd1 Rg4 20. Ne3 Rf4 21. Qd2 h4 22. Rgf1 h3 The Liverpool Mercury of 7 July 1894 published the moves so far played with a diagram of the current position, so this was probably the adjournment position or soon after it. 23. g3 R×f1† 24. R×f1 f5?! 25. Nc4 B×c4 26. B×c4 Rd8 27. Qg5 b5 28. Bd5 Qc5 29. c3 R×d5 30. c×d4 R×d4 31. Q×f5† Kb7 32. Q×h3 Qc2 33. Kg1 Q×b2 34. g4 R×e4 The 1894 Liverpool Club Report gives the moves up to this point; the game was still continuing. Then its 1895 report says “The Telegraphic Match against Mr. Steinitz was brought to a conclusion early in the season.” That report includes the full score of the game. 35. g5 Qd4† 36. Kh1 Kb6 37. Qe6† Kb7 38. Rc1 c5 “P–B4” is in Steinitz’s book. The Liverpool Club 1895 report had a misprint “P–Q Kt4;” the b-pawn is already on that square. The report also says, “And at this stage Black offered a draw which White accepted,” and the Liverpool Mercury of 3 November 1894 reported that this game had ended in a draw. Steinitz gave two further move pairs in his book: 39. Rf1 Rf4 “An armistice is here virtually declared and peace follows.” 40. R×f4 e×f4 ½–½ “Given up as a draw. The likely continuation was 41. Kg2 Qd2† 42. Kh3 f3 43. Qe4† Kb6 44. Q×f3 Q×g5.”

Hastings Congress 1895 Steinitz returned to England after 12 years’ absence for the Hastings 1895 international congress. According to a Reuters telegram published in many newspapers, he sailed from New York on 4 July, but the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News of 20 July said he had sailed on the 3rd. Steinitz’s exact date of arrival in London is unknown; nor was much reported about how he occupied his time before the tournament. He visited the London Ladies’ Chess Club on 20 July to watch Rudolf Loman, the Dutch musician and amateur chess player, play blindfold against six women. When time was called, four games were unfinished which Steinitz was called upon to

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adjudicate.7 He left London for Hastings on Friday, 2 August. On the eve of his departure, Steinitz was invited to an impromptu dinner at Simpson’s in the Strand, hosted by an old adversary, Abraham Mocatta, then president of the City of London Chess Club.8 Representatives of several chess clubs were present, including Mrs. Rhoda Bowles and Mrs. Miriam Gunsberg of the Ladies’ Club and their husbands. Steinitz made a speech in which he referred to the growing interest in chess among women. The tournament was played in the Brassey Institute at the Sussex seaside resort, starting on the bank holiday Monday, 5 August. Play began shortly after 1 p.m. following an opening ceremony at 12:30. There were so many entries that the organizing committee had tough decisions to make. The foreign entry would have been even stronger had they not preferred Beniamino Vergani, from Italy, to the up-and-coming Hungarian master Géza Maróczy, who duly won the minor tournament. The British contingent performed poorly. Its weakest member, Samuel Tinsley, was probably accepted because he was chess correspondent of The Times. An unfortunate aspect of the regulations, seen also in other tournaments of this period, was that the order of the rounds was randomized to prevent detailed preparation for games. An initial draw to determine colors was made, but only on each morning of play was the number of that day’s round revealed. Steinitz was not too badly affected by this, since after starting with two Whites, he enjoyed a normal alternation of colors; others were not so fortunate. He made a fine start before losing four games in succession. He recovered to win his “immortal game” against Von Bardeleben and finished fifth. The tournament book, published the following year, was edited by local club member Horace F. Cheshire and cited below as “Cheshire.”9 The games were not numbered in Cheshire but were arranged by rounds and each competitor was asked to annotate some games by other players, with mixed results. Steinitz diligently annotated the games Lasker– Chigorin, Chigorin–Blackburne, Lasker–Teichmann, Bird– Schiffers, and Schlechter–Chigorin, but many of the other notes in the book were superficial. The editor’s procedure apparently introduced errors. Where there are variant scores, we usually prefer the version in Schallopp’s Das Internationale Schachturnier zu Hastings (1896) which made use of many German and other sources, and which Bachmann and subsequent game collectors have generally preferred. Whereas one can normally accept the scores in official tournament books as definitive, that is not the case with Cheshire where the Lasker game definitely ends incorrectly. In the case of Game 577 both books stop prematurely, although Schallopp was at least aware he was lacking the finish. Play continued at least to move 53, and perhaps to move 60.10 For the centenary in 1995, two modern tournament books were separately published, with the moves transposed to algebraic notation.

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The English edition by Crouch and Haines is preferable because the editors did much research in local sources, but they were inconsistent in their handling of the several games with discrepant scores and apparently had consulted neither Schallopp nor Bachmann.11

575. Steinitz–B. Vergani Hastings (1), 5 August 1895 French Defense (C11) Bachmann (game 782); Cheshire, pages 27–28. Vergani relieves the pressure on the center far too early, and Steinitz is free to launch a massive kingside attack.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. e5 Nfd7 5. Nce2 c5 6. c3 c×d4?! 7. c×d4 Nc6 8. f4 Bb4† 9. Nc3 0–0 10. Nf3 f6 11. a3 B×c3† 12. b×c3 a6 13. a4 Na5 14. Bd3 Qc7 15. Qc2 f5 16. g4!? g6 17. g×f5 e×f5 18. h4 Nb6 19. h5 Kg7 20. h×g6 h6 21. Qh2 Rh8 22. Qh4 Qd8 23. Ba3 Nc6 24. Qh5 Nc4 25. Nh4 N×a3 26. N×f5† B×f5 27. Q×f5 Qf8 28. Qd7† Qe7 29. Q×d5 Rad8 30. Qb3 Rhf8 31. Q×a3 Q×a3 32. R×a3 R×f4 33. Ke2 Ne7 34. Rb1 Rd7 35. Rab3 Nd5 36. c4 R×d4 37. c×d5 R4xd5 38. R×b7 R×d3 39. e6 Rd2† 40. Ke1 Rd1† 41. R×d1 1–0

576. Steinitz–C. Schlechter Hastings (2), 6 August 1895 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann (game 783); Cheshire, pages 42–44.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  Bc4 Bc5 4.  c3 Nf6 5.  d4 e×d4 6. c×d4 Bb4† 7. Nc3 N×e4 8. 0–0 B×c3 9. b×c3 d5 10. Ba3?! A dubious novelty. 10. … Be6 Annotating this game for Cheshire, Lasker recommended 10. … d×c4! 11. Re1 f5 12. Nd2 Kf7 13. N×e4 f×e4 14. R×e4 Qf6 15. Qe2 Bf5! and the first game of their 1896 World Championship re-match followed that line, whereupon Steinitz varied with 16. Q×c4† from Lasker’s analysis which had considered only 16. Rf4. Steinitz lost in the end and in the third game Lasker played 11. … Be6!, refuting the line. 11. Bb5 Nd6 12. B×c6† b×c6 13. Ne5 0–0 14. N×c6 Qf6 15. Rb1 Bf5 16. Rb3 Bd7 17. Nb4 Ba4 18. N×d5 Qd8 19. Qd3 B×b3 20. a×b3 Re8 21. c4 c6 22. Ne3 Qd7 23. d5 Rad8 24. Bb2 f6 25. Bd4 Nc8 26. Rd1 Nb6 27. d6 Q×d6 28. c5 Qe6 29. c×b6 c5 30. b×a7 R×d4 31. Qc2 R×d1† 32. Q×d1 Qf7 33. h4 Q×a7 34. h5 h6 35. Nf5 Qc7 36. g3 Qc6 37. Kh2 Kh8 38. Qg4 Qd7 39. Qf3 Re5 40. Nh4 Kg8 41. Ng6 Re8 42. Nf4 Rb8 43. Qe4 Qf7 44. Qf5 Q×b3 45.  Q×c5 Qb5 46.  Qc7 Re8 47.  Kg2 Rb8 48.  Kh2 Re8 49. Kg2 ½–½. Bachmann adds an unsourced extra move for Black, 49. … Rb8, which is not in the tournament book.

577. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz Hastings (3), 7 August 1895 King’s Bishop’s Gambit (C33) Bachmann (game 784), originally in the fifth volume of his Geistreiche Schachpartien.12 Blackburne (game 780); note that the score in Cheshire, pages 47–48, is incomplete.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Bc4 Nf6 4. Nc3 Nc6 5. d4 Bb4 6. Qd3 0–0 7. Nge2 d5 8. e×d5 N×d5 9. 0–0 B×c3 10. b×c3 Nce7 11. N×f4 Bf5 12. Qf3 c6 13. Ba3 N×f4 14. Q×f4 Be6 15. Bb3 Qd7 16. Qf3 a5 17. Qe2 Rfe8 18. B×e6 f×e6 19. Rf3 Rf8 20. R×f8†?! “The omission to take the Knight proved fatal”— Gunsberg. 20. … R×f8 21. Re1 Rf6 22. Qe5 Nd5 23. Qg3 h6 24. Bd6 b5 25. Be5 Rf5 26. h4 a4 27. Re4 h5 28. Qe1 Qf7 29. Bd6 Rf6 30. Be5 Rg6 31. Re2 (see diagram) This was the position at the adjournment, as shown from a diagram in the Morning Post, Friday, 9 August 1895. Over the past 10 moves Blackburne’s once favorable position had seriously deteriorated and after the next move, which he had overlooked, White is lost.

After 31. Re2

wDwDwDkD DwDwDq0w wDpDpDrD DpDnGwDp pDw)wDw) Dw)wDwDw PDPDRDPD DwDw!wIw

31. … Qf3! 32. Rf2 Q×c3 33. Q×c3 N×c3 34. a3 Rg4 35. g3 Re4 36. Kf1 Nb1 37. Bd6 R×d4 Cheshire says White resigned but detailed descriptions in several newspapers (e.g., The Scotsman for 8 August) show that Blackburne played on in a hopeless position for a long time, perhaps because of the great crowd of spectators around the board, and the game did not end until 8:30 p.m. 38. Rf8† Kh7 39. Be5 Nd2† 40. Ke2 Re4† 41. K×d2 R×e5 42. Rb8 Rd5† 43. Ke3 Kg6 44. c4 b×c4 45. Rb4 Rd3† 46. Kf4 R×a3 47. R×c4 e5† 48. K×e5 R×g3 49. R×c6† Kh7 “And Black wins” said the Morning Post, which seems to imply this was not the end. The Scotsman said the game continued for 10 moves more. Bachmann found a continuation which matches the newspaper accounts. His source is uncertain, possibly Steinitz himself, or a German newspaper. 50. Ra6 Rg4 51. Kf5 g6† 52. Kf6 Rf4† 53. Ke5 R×h4. … (0–1). Bachmann says White resigned here, but probably even this was not the end of the game because Guest, in the Morning Post of 8 August, wrote that even after being reduced to rook against rook and three pawns, “Blackburne nevertheless persisted for several moves in the endeavour to obtain a draw.” Some provincial papers, probably receiving the same Press Association wires as The Scotsman, reported that Blackburne resigned on the 60th move. Next day, Thursday, 8 August, was a free day, the players including Steinitz were taken on an excursion by “waggonnette” to Battle Abbey and Normanhurst Court.13 In the evening there were festivities of various kinds. Cheshire, page 59, says that Lasker and Burn did not go. The others arrived

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back at 6 p.m. In the evening the masters were offered a choice of entertainment, including the farce Charley’s Aunt, but they all preferred a special musical concert on the pier.

578. Steinitz–J. Mason Hastings (4), 9 August 1895 Philidor Defense (C41) Bachmann (game 785); Cheshire, pages 70–71. Tarrasch, annotating, said this game “offers a good example of [Steinitz’s] method of play,” i.e., the accumulation of small advantages, whereas Mason played without a plan. Meanwhile Chigorin (who had 3/3) was defeated by his countryman Schiffers so Steinitz took the lead.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 d6 3. Bc4 Be7 4. c3 Nf6 5. d3 0–0 6. Nbd2 Nc6 7. Bb3 Be6 8. Bc2 d5 9. Qe2 Bd6 10. Nf1 a6 11. Ng5 Qd7 Tarrasch said Black should preserve the B by 11. … Bd7, not fearing 12. e×d5 N×d5 13. N×h7 because of 13. … Re8 (13. … K×h7? 14. Qe4†) with the threat …Nf4. 12. Ne3 d×e4 13. d×e4 Ne7 14. f3 Bc5 15. N×e6 Q×e6 16. Bb3 Qc6 17. g4 B×e3 18. B×e3 Ng6 19. 0–0–0 Rad8 20. h4 R×d1† 21. R×d1 Re8 22. h5 Nf8 23. h6 g6 24. g5 N6d7 25. Bd5 Qa4 26. B×b7 Q×a2 27. Q×a6 Qb3 28. Bd5 Qb8 29. Qa2 Re7 30. Qa8 Q×a8 31. B×a8 Ne6 32. Bd5 Nf4 33. Bc6 Nf8 34. Bc5 1–0

579. I. A. Gunsberg–Steinitz Hastings (5), 10 August 1895 Evans Gambit (C51) Bachmann (game 786); Cheshire, pages 87–88. Gunsberg had been long out of practice before this tournament; he handled the White side of the “Normal Position” in the Evans Gambit too slowly.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d6 8. c×d4 Bb6 9. Bb2 Nf6 10. d5 Ne7 11. Nc3 0–0 12. Qc2 Ng6 13. Ne2 Bd7 14. Rad1 Re8 15. Ng3 Rc8 16. h3 Qe7 17. Rfe1 Ne5 18. Nd4 B×d4 19. R×d4 c6 20. Bb3 c×d5 21. Qd1 Nc4 22. Bc3 b5 23. e×d5 Qd8 24. R×e8† N×e8 25. Qh5 Ne5 26. Bb2 Nf6 27. Qg5 h6 28. Qd2 a5 29. a3 a4 30. Ba2 Qc7 31. f4 Qc5 32. Kh2 Nc4 33. B×c4 b×c4 34. Qc3 Ne8 35. Nh5 f6 36. Re4 Q×d5 37. R×e8† B×e8 38. N×g7 Bc6 39. Qg3 Kf7 40. f5 Q×g2† 41. Q×g2 B×g2 42. Ne6 Be4 43. Nd4 Rg8 0–1 At the end of the first week Steinitz remained in the sole lead with 4½ points but in the second week he suffered a crisis.

580. Steinitz–W. H. K. Pollock Hastings (6), 12 August 1895 Giuoco Piano (C53) Bachmann (game 787); Cheshire, pages 93–94. This game is annotated in detail in Hilbert and Urcan’s book on Pollock. Steinitz’s attempt at queenside attack proved ineffective and Pollock broke through on the f-file.

Steinitz photographed by William James Donald for Bradshaw’s of Hastings in 1895. (From the tournament book.)

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. c3 Qe7 5. d4 Bb6 6. a4?! a5 7. 0–0 d6 8. d5 Nd8 9. Bd3 Nf6 10. Na3 c6 11. Nc4 Bc7 12. Ne3 Nh5 13. g3 g6 14. b4 f5 15. Ng2 c×d5 16. e×d5 Nf7 17. Re1 0–0 18. Nd4 Qf6 19. Nb5 Bb6 20. b×a5 B×a5 21. Be2 Ng7 22. Bd2 Bd7 23. Rf1 Rac8 24. c4 Bb6 25. Be3 B×e3 26. f×e3 Ng5 27. Nc3 f4 28. Qc2 f3 29. Nh4 Nf5 30. R×f3 N×f3† 31. N×f3 N×e3 32. Qb1 N×c4 33. Ne4 Qd8 34. Q×b7 Na5 35. Qb4 Bg4 36. Rf1 Bh3 37. Re1 Rb8 38. Q×d6 Q×d6 39. N×d6 Rb2 40. Bd1 Rg2† 41. Kh1 Rf2 42. Ne4 R2xf3 43.  B×f3 R×f3 44.  d6 Rf1† 45.  R×f1 B×f1 46.  Kg1 Bd3 47. Nf6† Kf7 48. N×h7 Ke6 49. Kf2 K×d6 50. Ke3 Bc2 51. h4 Nc4† 52. Ke2 Kd5 53. g4 Kd4 54. Nf8 Bd3† 55. Ke1 Ke3 56. h5 g×h5 57. g×h5 Be2 58. Nd7 Na3 0–1

581. H. N. Pillsbury–Steinitz Hastings (7), 13 August 1895 Queen’s Gambit Declined (D50) Bachmann (game 788); Cheshire, pages 111–113. Steinitz handicapped himself with a dubious fourth move.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 c5?! 5. c×d5 e×d5 6. B×f6 g×f6 7. e3 Be6 8. Nge2 Nc6 9. g3 c×d4 10. e×d4 Bb4 11. Bg2 Qb6 12. 0–0 0–0–0 13. Na4 Qa6 14. a3 Bd6 15. b4 Bg4 16. Nac3 Ne7 17. b5 Qa5 18. Qb3 Kb8 19. h3 Be6

326

Steinitz in London

20. f4 f5 21. Rfd1 Rd7 22. Na4 Rc8 23. b6 a6 24. Nec3 Rc6 25. Bf1 Rd8 26. Na2 Bd7 27. Nb4 Rcc8 28. Nc3 Rg8 29. Kf2 h5 30. h4 B×b4 31. a×b4 Q×b6 32. Be2 Rg6 33. N×d5 Qe6 34. Bf3 Bc6 35. Re1 B×d5 36. R×e6 B×b3 37. R×e7 Rc2† 38. Re2 Rc3 39. Rae1 Rb6 40. Rd2 R×b4 41. d5 Rc2 42. R×c2 B×c2 43. B×h5 Be4 44. B×f7 Rd4 45. Be6 Rd2† 46. Re2 Rd3 47. Re3 Rd2† 48. Ke1 Rd4 49. h5 B×d5 50. B×f5 Bf7 51. h6 Rd8 52. g4 a5 53. g5 1–0

582. Steinitz–H. E. Bird Hastings (8), 14 August 1895 Queen’s Gambit Declined, Semi-Slav (D31) Bachmann (game 789); Cheshire, pages 130–131; also, on page 357, that book described this as “a good specimen of his [Bird’s] general play, and a fine game to boot.”

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 c6 4. e3 Nd7 5. Nf3 Bd6 6. e4 d×e4 7. N×e4 Bb4† 8. Nc3 Ndf6 9. Bd3 Qa5 10. Bd2 Ne7 11. 0–0 0–0 12. a3 B×c3 13. B×c3 Qc7 14. Ne5 Rd8 15. Qe2 b6 16. b4 Bb7 17. f4 Nf5 18. Qf2 c5 19. d×c5 b×c5 20. Q×c5 Q×c5† 21. b×c5 Be4 22. Rfd1 Rdc8 23. c6 B×d3 24. R×d3 Ne4 25. Bb4 a5 26. Rad1 a×b4 27. c7 g5 28. Rd8† Kg7 29. a×b4 Ne3 30. R×c8 R×c8 31. Rd4 f5 32. Rd7† Kh6 33. f×g5† K×g5 34. h4† Kf6 35. Nc6 Rg8 0–1 Thursday, 15 August was a rest day (except for Von Bardeleben and Mason who played off an adjournment). There was no excursion but in the evening the Hastings club vicepresident Horace Chapman and his daughter hosted a musical reception, described in Cheshire on page 138.

583. E. Lasker–Steinitz Hastings (9), 16 August 1895 Ruy Lopez (C75) Bachmann (game 790). Steinitz rearranged all his pieces on the back rank (see diagram). In his notes in Cheshire, pages 145–147, Gunsberg commented “If this is good strategy, then the modern theory of development must be all wrong.” Lasker found a way to break down the barricades.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 d6 5. 0–0 Nge7 6. c3 Bd7 7. d4 Ng6 8. Re1 Be7 9. Nbd2 0–0 10. Nf1 Qe8 11. Bc2 Kh8 12. Ng3 Bg4 13. d5 Nb8 14. h3 Bc8 15. Nf5 Bd8 16. g4 Ne7 17. Ng3 Ng8 (see diagram)

rhbgq4ni Dp0wDp0p pDw0wDwD DwDP0wDw wDwDPDPD Dw)wDNHP P)BDw)wD $wGQ$wIw

18. Kg2 Nd7 19. Be3 Nb6 20. b3 Bd7 21. c4 Nc8 22. Qd2 Nce7 23. c5 g6 24. Qc3 f5 25. N×e5 d×e5 26. Q×e5† Nf6 27. Bd4 f×g4 28. h×g4 B×g4 29. Qg5 Qd7 30. B×f6† Kg8 31. Bd1 Bh3† 32. Kg1 N×d5 33. B×d8 Nf4 34. Bf6 Qd2 35. Re2 N×e2† 36. B×e2 Qd7 37. Rd1 Qf7 Cheshire has a curious mistake here, stating Black’s move as “Q to B sq” (i.e., 37. … Qc8) with White’s 38th move giving check, but if the Black queen were really on c8, White’s 40th move, instead of being decisive, would just put the knight en prise. 37. … Qf7 is the move in Bachmann and Schallopp, following the London Daily News of 17 August 1895, and D.S.Z., L (September 1895), pages 281–282. Crouch and Haines, noticing there was a problem, devised a third version of the score. They retained 37. … Qc8 but guessed White’s 39th move was Be5. 38. Bc4 Be6 39. e5 B×c4 40. Nf5 1–0 Steinitz was now dispirited but some kind words before the next round from Mrs. Rhoda Bowles of the London Ladies’ Chess Club inspired him to win the brilliancy prize.14 Her account reveals he burst into tears and said he had not slept for three nights. She advised him to try and rest, and next morning brought him a flower for the button-hole which she pinned to his coat: “…telling him that I had come to turn his luck, and should expect him to win that day. The change in his look was startling; from a haggard expression he developed an eager look of desire for his opponent.”

584. Steinitz–C. von Bardeleben Hastings (10), 17 August 1895 Giuoco Piano (C54) Bachmann (game 791); Cheshire, pages 157–158; Neishtadt, pages 242–249; also see Eminent Victorian Chess Players, pages 198–200.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  Bc4 Bc5 4.  c3 Nf6 5.  d4 e×d4 6. c×d4 Bb4† 7. Nc3 d5!? A novelty; 7. … N×e4 is usual and probably much stronger. 8. e×d5 N×d5 9. 0–0 Be6 10. Bg5 Be7 11. B×d5 B×d5 12. N×d5 Q×d5 13. B×e7 N×e7 14. Re1 f6 15. Qe2 Qd7 16. Rac1 c6 17. d5 c×d5 18. Nd4 Kf7 19. Ne6 Rhc8 (see diagram) This is test position 987 in The Woodpecker Method by Smith and Tikkanen.

After 19. … Rhc8

After 17. … Ng8

rDrDwDwD 0pDqhk0p wDwDN0wD DwDpDwDw wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw P)wDQ)P) Dw$w$wIw

20. Qg4! g6 21. Ng5† Ke8 22. R×e7† Kf8 23. Rf7† Kg8 24.  Rg7† Kh8 25.  R×h7† 1–0. Here Bardeleben left the room, which he afterwards tried to excuse by saying he wanted

13. Last Visits to England, 1895–1899

327

Nf6 4. Bb5 Bb4 5. Nd5 N×d5 6. e×d5 e4 7. d×c6 d×c6 8. Be2 e×f3 9. B×f3 0–0 10. 0–0 Bd6 11. d4 f5 12. c4 Be7 13. d5 c5 14. Bd2 Bd6 15. Rc1 Qf6 16. Bc3 Qh6 17. g3 f4 18. Bg4? f×g3 19. h×g3 (see diagram)

After 19. h×g3

Mrs. Rhoda Bowles of the London Ladies Chess Club, who inspired Steinitz to his brilliant win against Von Bardeleben. Photograph (1897) by Bradshaw’s of Hastings. (Cleveland Public Library Digital Gallery.)

to avoid spectator applause disturbing the other games.15 Steinitz had to wait 50 minutes for his opponent’s time to run out, after which he demonstrated the finishing sequence: 25. … Kg8 26. Rg7†! Kh8 27. Qh4†! K×g7 28. Qh7† Kf8 29. Qh8†! Ke7 30. Qg7† (30. Re1† also wins.) 30. … Ke8 31. Qg8† Ke7 32. Qf7† Kd8 33. Qf8†! Qe8 34. Nf7† Kd7 35. Qd6 mate. Bowles also recalled that one of Steinitz’s idiosyncrasies was a strong objection to his opponents’ striking a match during play (most of them were smokers). “He declared that each strike broke the train of his thoughts, and in consequence lost him much time in re-forming his plans. Temper? Yes, the poor old man had a fair share….”

585. E. S. Schiffers–Steinitz Hastings (11), 19 August 1895 Four Knights Game (C49) Bachmann (game 792); Cheshire, pages 173–174; Schallopp (game 117), pages 171–173. At move 18 Schiffers blundered, allowing Steinitz to execute a combination that led to a won endgame. There are two discrepancies between the tournament books.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 In this case we believe Cheshire and his annotator, Albin. The Schallopp tournament book, followed by Bachmann, Pickard, and ChessBase have the move order 2. … Nf6 3. Nc3 Nc6 but this is implausible. Steinitz is known to have taken the Black side of the Petroff Defense in only two games against amateurs. The sources giving 2. … Nf6 also truncate the game after Black's 51st move. 3. Nc3

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19. … B×g3! 20. f×g3 R×f1† 21. Q×f1 B×g4 22. Qf4 Q×f4 23. g×f4 Rd8 24. Be5 Rd7 25. Kf2 Kf7 26. Rg1 h5 27. Kg3 Kg6 28. b3 Kf5 29. Re1 Re7 30. Bc3 R×e1 31. B×e1 g6 32. Bc3 Bd1 33. Be5 g5 34. B×c7 g×f4† 35. Kf2 Bc2 36. Bb8 a6 37. Kf3 Be4† 38. Kf2 Bb1 39. Bd6 B×a2 40. B×f4 B×b3 41. d6 Ke6 42. Ke3 B×c4 43. Kd2 Bb5 44. Kc3 Bc6 45. Kc4 b6 46. Bg3 Bd5† 47. Kc3 b5 48. Kd3 a5 49. Ke3 a4 50. Kd3 a3 51. Kc2 b4 Bachmann and both Pickard’s book and database say White resigned here, but Cheshire shows the game actually concluded 52. Be5 b3† 53. Kc3 b2 0–1. This game was also mistakenly included as Bachmann game 837 purporting to be one of their 1896 match games! It was now the mid-point of the tournament, each player having ten opponents still to meet. Steinitz and Schiffers were in joint fifth place with 6½ points but the leaders, Chigorin and Pillsbury, had three points more, while Lasker had 8½ and Bardeleben 7½.

586. Steinitz–J. Mieses Hastings (12), 20 August 1895 Queen’s Gambit Accepted (D20) Bachmann (game 793); Cheshire, pages 195–196; Schallopp (game 128), page 204.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 d×c4 3. e3 e5 4. Nc3 e×d4 5. e×d4 Nf6 6. B×c4 Be7 7. Nf3 0–0 8. 0–0 b6 9. Ne5 Bb7 10. Qb3 Qe8 11. Re1 Nc6 12. N×c6 Q×c6 13. d5 Qc5 14. h3 Following Schallopp's tournament book because there are good reasons for supposing he was right. Pickard’s book and many databases also have 14. h3, but Cheshire (notes by Pillsbury), Bachmann and Hooper give 14. a3 a6 15. a4. It is unlikely that Steinitz really did waste a tempo with the a-pawn, and 14. h3 guards against a threat of …Bd6 and …Ng4. 14. … a6 15.  a4 Qb4 16.  Bf4 Q×b3 17.  B×b3 Bb4 18.  B×c7 B×c3 19. b×c3 B×d5 20. c4 Rfc8 21. B×b6 B×c4 22. Bd1 Rab8 23. Bd4 Bb3 24. Be2 Rb4 25. B×a6 Ra8 26. B×f6 g×f6 27.  Bb5 B×a4 28.  Bd3 Rd8 29.  Re3 Rbd4 30.  Be2 Bd1 31. Bf1 Bc2 ½–½

328

Steinitz in London

587. M. I. Chigorin–Steinitz Hastings (13), 21 August 1895 Evans Gambit (C52) Bachmann (game 794); Daily News, 22 August 1890; Cheshire, pages 209–210. Including their telegraph match, Chigorin played the Evans Gambit 23 times against Steinitz, of which four were drawn. This was the last of the six that Steinitz won.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. 0–0 d6 7. d4 e×d4 8. c×d4 Nf6?! Steinitz had not tried this before. 9. e5 Chigorin later tried 9. Qa4 twice. 9. … d×e5 10. Ba3 Be6 11. Bb5 Qd5 12. Qa4 0–0–0?! 12. … Bd7 was Steinitz’s improvement at St Petersburg the following year, although he eventually lost. 13. B×c6 b×c6 14. Bc5 Bb6 15. Qa6†?! This leads to the win of the exchange “at enormous expense” as Lasker said; his suggestion 15. N×e5 should be good for White. 15. … Kb8 16. N×e5 Nd7 17. Nc3 N×c5 18. Qe2 Qd6 19. d×c5 Q×c5 20. Na4 Qb5 21. Q×b5 c×b5 22. N×b6 a×b6 23. Nc6† Kb7 24. N×d8† R×d8 25. a3 c5 26. f3 Kc6 27. Rfd1 Ra8 28. Kf2 Ra4 29. Ke3 h5 30. Kd2 b4 31. a×b4 R×b4 32. Rdb1 R×b1 33. R×b1 b5 34. Ra1 b4 35. Kc2 Kd5 36. Rd1† Kc4 37.  Rd8 Bd5 38.  h4 Kd4 39.  Rb8 Be6 40.  Rb7 g6 41. Rb5 b3† 42. Kb2 c4 43. Rb4 Kd3 44. Rb6 c3† 45. Kb1 Ke3 0–1. The Daily News and Cheshire both say White resigned here. Pickard’s database had additionally 46. Kc1 b2† with no source cited. On 22 August there was a lunch outing at the home of a former member of parliament Farmer Atkinson, just outside Hastings. This was followed in the afternoon by a problemsolving tournament with about 40 competitors. The Morning Post, 23 August, said Steinitz participated, but he was not one of the three prize-winners. In the evening there was a banquet at the Queen’s Hotel with several speeches. “Mr. Steinitz told us that a Tournament would create a new era in chess,” and in view of the long subsequent history of chess tournaments in Hastings it can be said that he was prescient.16

588. Steinitz–A. Burn Hastings (14), 23 August 1895 Queen’s Gambit Declined (D37) Bachmann (game 795); Cheshire, pages 218–220; Forster, Amos Burn (game 463), on pages 444–446. Both players were “terribly pressed for time as they approach thirty moves and the excitement round the board is intense. The director is wondering if he must get a telescope to see if the hands on either or both of the clocks have passed the hour.” This no doubts explains Burn’s risky 26th move and Steinitz’s failure to find the correct reply 27. N×d4. Instead of obtaining a favorable position he lost a piece by a miscalculation, but fought tenaciously and Burn was eventually unable to win the endgame.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Nf3 Be7 5. Bf4 0–0 6. e3 c5 7.  d×c5 B×c5 8.  c×d5 e×d5 9.  Bd3 Nc6 10.  0–0 Be6 11. Rc1 Rc8 12. Bb1 Qa5 13. Nd2 Be7 14. Nb3 Qd8 15. Qd3 Qd7 16. Rfd1 Rfd8 17. Qe2 Qe8 18. Nb5 Bg4 19. f3 Be6 20. Bc7 Rd7 21. Bg3 Rdd8 22. a3 Kh8 23. Be1 Nd7 24. Bc3 Nb6 25. Qd3 Qg8 26. Na5 d4!? (see diagram) Objectively the correct move was 26. … Na4!= as Forster pointed out.

After 26. … d4

wDr4wDqi 0pDwgp0p whnDbDwD HNDwDwDw wDw0wDwD )wGQ)PDw w)wDwDP) DB$RDwIw

27. N×c6? b×c6 28. N×d4 c5 29. Qa6 c×d4 30. B×d4 R×c1 31. R×c1 Rc8 32. Rc3 R×c3 33. b×c3 Qb8 34. Qd3 f5 35. g4 Nc4 36. g×f5 N×a3 37. f×e6 Q×b1† 38. Q×b1 N×b1 39. Kf2 Kg8 40. c4 Na3 41. c5 Nb5 42. f4 N×d4? 43. e×d4 Kf8 44. Ke3 Ke8 45. Kd3 Kd8 46. f5 Kc7 47. Kc4 a6 48. d5 Bf8 49. c6 Be7 50. Kb3 Kd6 51. Ka4 Bd8 52. Kb3 g5 53. f×g6 h×g6 54. h3 ½–½.

589. R. Teichmann–Steinitz Hastings (15), 24 August 1895 Ruy Lopez (C75) Bachmann (game 796); Cheshire, pages 244–245 (with wretched notes by Von Bardeleben). Steinitz misplayed a favorable position, after which Teichmann missed several chances to win.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 d6 5. d4 Bd7 6. c3 Nge7 7. Bb3 h6 8. Be3 g6 9. Nbd2 Bg7 10. Nf1 Na5 11. Bc2 Nc4 12. Bb3 Be6 13. Bc1 b5 14. Ne3 e×d4 15. N×d4 N×e3 16. B×e3 B×b3 17. N×b3 0–0 18. 0–0 Qc8 19. Qd2 Kh7 20. Rae1 a5 21. Bd4 f6 22. f4 Rd8 23. Qe2 c5 24. Bf2 a4 25. Nc1 Qc6 26. Nd3 Re8 27. Qf3 a3 28. b3 Ng8 29. Bg3 Bf8 30. h4 Ra7 31. Re2 f5 32. Rfe1 f×e4 33. R×e4 R×e4 34. R×e4 Qd7? The rook is needed on e7 or f7. 35. h5 Qf5 36. h×g6† K×g6 37. Bh4 h5 (see diagram)

After 37. … h5

wDwDwgnD 4wDwDwDw wDw0wDkD Dp0wDqDp wDwDR)wG 0P)NDQDw PDwDwDPD DwDwDwIw

13. Last Visits to England, 1895–1899 38. Qe2 Not bad, though Stockfish 10 proposes 38. b4!, to break Black’s structure, and if 38. … c×b4 or 38. … c4 then 39. Rd4! threatening Rd5 would win. Bardeleben claimed 38. Ne5†?! was strong but after 38. … d×e5 39. R×e5 Qb1† 40. Kh2 Black can hold by 40. … Nh6 41. Q×h5† Kh7. 38. … Kh7 39. Nf2 Bg7 40. Bg5 Qf7 41. Qf3?! The correct move was 41. Re3! threatening Rh3. 41. … d5 42. Re2 d4 43. c×d4 B×d4 44. Qd3† Qg6 45. Q×b5 Rg7 46. Qe8? Q×e8 47. R×e8 c4! 48. b×c4 Rb7 49. Kf1 Rb1† ½–½

590. Steinitz–A. Albin Hastings (16), 26 August 1895 Dutch Defense (A84) Bachmann (game 797); Cheshire, page 255. An early blunder by Albin decided the game.

1. d4 f5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e3 Nf6 5. Bd3 0–0 6. Nge2 d6 7. 0–0 e5?! 8. Nd5 N×d5 9. c×d5 Nd7?? 10. Qa4 Qh4 11. Q×b4 Rf6 12. Ng3 Nc5 13. Rd1 Rh6 14. h3 Ne4 15. d×e5 a5 16. Qd4 d×e5 17. Q×e5 Bd7 18. B×e4 f×e4 19. Q×e4 Qf6 20. Qd4 Qf7 21. e4 Rg6 22. e5 Bb5 23. a4 Ba6 24. Ra3 Rd8 25. e6 Qe8 26. Nf5 c6 27. Rg3 1–0

591. D. Janowski–Steinitz Hastings (17), 27 August 1895 Ruy Lopez (C72) Bachmann, page 798; Cheshire, pages 273–274. Janowski fell into the “Noah’s Ark Trap” but Steinitz rejected the piece on offer, probably fearing a prepared attack. In view of the disaster that followed he probably should have entered the main line.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 d6 5. 0–0 Nge7 6. Bb3 Na5 7. d4!? e×d4 8. N×d4!? c5 9. Nf5 N×f5 Pillsbury’s notes claimed that 9. … B×f5 10. e×f5 c4 “wins a clear Piece, and White obtains nothing for it.” Stockfish 10 shows Black must be careful after 11. Ba4† b5 12. Re1 Nac6 13. Bg5 b×a4 14. Nc3 h5 15. f6 g×f6 16. B×f6 Rh6 17. Nd5 and the consequences remain obscure. 10. e×f5 N×b3 11. Re1† Be7 12. f6 g×f6 13. a×b3 d5 13. … Be6 was necessary. 14. Qh5 Qd6 15. Nc3 Be6 16. Nb5! Qc6 17. R×e6 Q×b5 18. Bh6 Kd8 19. Q×f7 Re8 20. Rae1 Qd7 21. Bg7 Rc8 22. B×f6 B×f6 23. Q×f6† Kc7 24. Qe5† 1–0 After this defeat Steinitz was still on 10 points, in a tie for fourth place with Tarrasch and Walbrodt. The leaders (Chigorin, Lasker and Pillsbury) were three and a half points ahead of him. Pillsbury had a walkover on this day against Bardeleben because the latter was unwell and chose to forfeit.

592. Steinitz–S. Tinsley Hastings (18), 28 August 1895 Benoni transposing to King’s Indian Defense (E70) Bachmann (game 799); Cheshire, pages 279–280; Schallopp (game 194). Samuel Tinsley, the weakest of the home

329

contingent, essayed a Benoni and a sort of Sämisch King’s Indian arose, in which Steinitz seemed all at sea until Tinsley’s gross blunder at move 25.

1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 c5 3. d5 d6 4. Nc3 g6 5. e4 Bg7 6. Bd3 0–0 7. Nge2 Nbd7 8. Nf4 Ne5 9. Be2 b6 10. h4 h5 11. f3 Rb8 12. Nh3 a6 13. a4 Re8 14. Nf2 e6 15. Bg5 e×d5 16. N×d5 Be6 17. Ne3 Qd7 18. Nh3 Nc6 19. Bf4 B×h3 20. R×h3 Nd4 21. Bd3 Rb7 22. Kf2 Ne6 23. Bg3 Bh6 24. Nd5 N×d5 25. c×d5 Nf4?? 26. B×f4 B×f4 27. B×a6 Be5 28. B×b7 Bd4† 29. Kf1 Q×b7 30. Qb3 Ra8 31. Rb1 Qa6† 32. Qb5 Q×a4 33. Q×a4 R×a4 34. f4 Rb4 35. b3 c4 36. Ke2 Kg7 There seem to be no clear grounds to choose between this move (which is in Cheshire, Bachmann and Hooper) and Schallopp’s 36. … Kf8, which is in Pickard and many databases including ChessBase’s Mega17 and Big18. 37. Kd2 Bf6 38. Re3 c3† 39. Kc2 Bd4 40. Re2 Rb5? 41. b4 f5 42. Kd3 1–0 Thursday, 29 August was carnival day in Hastings and free of chess except for the seven who had adjourned games to play off.17 Steinitz was free but the festivities are unlikely to have interested him. Friday’s round was observed by a writer for British Chess Magazine, who signed himself “Chat.” The article described Steinitz as follows: … small of stature, somewhat delicate in body, needing the assistance of a stick in walking, has a massive head, indicative of great mental power, brownish hair, and light brown luminous eyes, of a lively social disposition, with good powers of repartee and much courtesy, a rather nervous tendency when at play producing an insistence on silence, near-sighted, and frequently consulting both clock and score-sheet, and when working out deep combinations both hands are slightly upheld, the index finger of the left hand gently marking the mental moves; this is the case now, for, after a rather dull game, Steinitz on the 37th move won by a fine combination in his best style.18

593. G. Marco–Steinitz Hastings (19), 30 August 1895 Ruy Lopez (C72) Bachmann (game 800); Cheshire, pages 299–300. Marco’s omission to play Rad1 at either move 18 or 19, when it would have won a vital tempo and given him a dominating position, is hard to understand, but it was his 21st move that cost him the initiative.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 d6 5. 0–0 Nge7 6. c3 g6 7. d4 Bd7 8. Be3 Bg7 9. d×e5 d×e5 10. Nbd2 0–0 11. Re1 Nc8 12.  Bc5 Re8 13.  Nf1 b6 14.  Ba3 N8a7 15.  Qd3 Bc8 16. Qe2 Bb7 17. Ne3 b5 (see diagram) 18. Bc2?! 18. Rad1 Qc8 19. Bb3 should win quickly, for if 19. … Na5 20. B×f7†! K×f7 21. Ng5† and 22. Qf3, and if 19. … Nd8 then 20. R×d8! is powerful. 18. … b4!? 19. B×b4?! N×b4 20. c×b4 Nb5 21. Qc4? Better would be 21. Nc4, as Bardeleben’s notes said, or 21.  Bd3. 21.  … Nd6 22.  Qb3 N×e4 23.  Rad1 Nd6 24.  Nd5 e4 25.  Nd2 B×d5 26.  Q×d5 e3 27. R×e3 R×e3 28. f×e3 Rb8 29. Nc4 R×b4 30. Bb3 Rb5 31. Qc6 Bf8 32. Q×a6 Qg5 33. Rf1 N×c4 34. B×c4 Q×e3†

330

rDw1rDkD hb0wDpgp pDnDwDpD DpDw0wDw BDwDPDwD Gw)wHNDw P)wDQ)P) $wDw$wIw

Steinitz in London

After 17. … b5

35. Kh1 Rf5 36. Ra1?? 36. R×f5 was necessary, and after 36. … g×f5 37. b4! with good chances of a draw. But not Bardeleben’s suggestion 37. h3 when 37. … Bc5 wins easily. 36. … Bd6 37. Bf1 B×h2 0–1

594. Steinitz–S. Tarrasch Hastings (20), 31 August & 2 September 1895 Dutch Defense (A84) Bachmann (game 801), follows Schallopp (game 216), pages 300–302, and D.S.Z., L (November 1895), pages 336–338, which both reprinted annotations by Tarrasch from the Frankfurter Schachblatt. This author prefers that version where it diverges from Cheshire, pages 310–312.

Steinitz undoubtedly stood better in the queenless middle game but chose the wrong plan when he should have acted on the queenside (28. Rc1 or 28. b4). He wasted tempi with his king’s bishop, which was his downfall (moves 41 and 45). Tarrasch obtained counterplay with an advanced h-pawn and although he squandered his first opportunity, he seized the second and adjourned in a winning position. There was no play next day, Sunday, so adjourned games were completed only on Monday afternoon, after the final round. 1. d4 f5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e3 Nf6 5. Bd3 b6 This is the first of three places in this game where Tarrasch is followed, whereas Cheshire has 5. … 0–0 6. Nge2 b6 7. 0–0 Bb7 transposing. 6. Nge2 Bb7 7. 0–0 0–0 8. f3 Nc6 9. e4 f×e4 10. f×e4 e5 11. Nd5 Be7 12. N×f6† R×f6 13. R×f6 B×f6 14. d5 Ne7 15. Ng3 g6 16. c5 Kh8 17. Be3 Ng8 18. Qc1 Qe7 19. c×b6 c×b6 20. Qc7 d6 21. Q×e7 B×e7 22. a4 Bd8 23. Ne2 a6 24. Nc1 Ne7 25. Nb3 Kg7 26. Rf1 Nc8 27. Nd2 Be7 28. Be2?! Bd8 29. Bg4 b5 30. Be6 Bf6 31. a5 g5 32. h4 g×h4 33. Bh6† Kg6 34. Bg4 Ne7 35. Be3 Rf8 36. Rc1 Bc8 37. Be2 h3 38. g3 h5 39. Rc7 Rg8 40. Kh2 Rf8 (see diagram) 41. Bd1? (41. Nf3=) 41. … Ng8 41. … Bg5! is even stronger. 42. Rc6 Be7 43. Nf3 Nf6? 43. … Kg7! 44. Nh4† Kf7 45. Bf3? 45. Bg5! would put White on top again. 45. … Bg4! 46. Bh1 Bd7 47. Rc7 Rc8 48. R×c8 Ng4† 49. Kg1 h2† 50. Kf1 N×e3† 51. Ke2 B×c8 52. K×e3 b4 53. Nf3 Bd8 54. N×h2 B×a5 55. Bf3 Kg6 56. Be2 Bb6† 57. Kd2 a5 This is the second point of divergence. Cheshire has 57. … Bf2 58. Nf1 a5 59. Bb5. 58.  Bb5 Bf2 59.  Nf1 Bh3 60.  Ke2 B×f1† 61.  K×f1 B×g3

After 40. … Rf8

wDbDw4wD Dw$whwDw pDw0wgkD )pDP0wDp wDwDPDwD DwDwGw)p w)wHBDwI DwDwDwDw

62. Be8† In Cheshire the move pairs 62 and 63 are reversed, viz., 62. Kg2 Be1 63. Be8† Kg5. 62. … Kg5 63. Kg2 Be1 64. Kf3 h4 65. Bd7 a4 66. B×a4 h3 67. Bd7 h2 68. Kg2 Bg3 69. Be8 Kf4 70. Bh5 Ke3 71. b3 Bf4 72. Bg6 Kd3 0–1. The turning points identified by the computer above were not noted by Tarrasch at all. Before this game the players had been level at 12 points, so it was vital for the destination of fourth prize. Fourth prize was £60 so this was an expensive defeat, which cost Steinitz £20 (had he beaten Tarrasch) or £10 if they had drawn.

595. C. Walbrodt–Steinitz Hastings (21), 2 September 1895 Ruy Lopez (C87) Bachmann (game 802); Cheshire, pages 328–330. This was the only round where each player knew in advance who his opponent would be, and the colors, making preparation possible. Steinitz abandoned 5. … Nge7, which he had played in three previous games in the tournament, and took his opponent by surprise with 5. … Nf6. Although Steinitz only needed a draw to ensure the fifth prize of £40, Walbrodt lost the initiative with his timid 20th move and soon lost.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 d6 5. 0–0 Nf6 6. c3 Bd7 (Improving on 6. … b5 from the 1890 Showalter–Judd match) 7. d4 Be7 8. Re1 0–0 9. Nbd2 Re8 10. Nf1 e×d4 11. N×d4 N×d4 12. Q×d4 B×a4 13. Q×a4 d5 14. e×d5 Q×d5 15. Bf4 c6 16. Re5 Qd3 17. Rd1 Qg6 18. Ne3 Bf8 19. Qb3 b5 20.  h3? Ne4! 21.  Qc2 R×e5 22.  B×e5 Re8 23.  Bf4 Qf6 24. Bc7 Bc5 25. Rd8 R×d8 26. B×d8 Qe6 27. Qd3 f5 28. b3 f4 29. Nd1 N×f2 30. N×f2 Qe1† 31. Kh2 B×f2 32. h4 h5 0–1 The prize-giving was held next day. Between 1895 and 1897 Steinitz spent 22 months in Europe, separated from his second family. After Hastings, he remained in London for several weeks, as did Pillsbury and Lasker while they all awaited confirmation of the tournament planned for St. Petersburg late in the year. The Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News of 28 September said, “Mr. Steinitz may now be seen any week at his old quarters, the Chess Divan, in the Strand, where he is well received.” Some newspapers and B.C.M. reported on the annual dinner of

13. Last Visits to England, 1895–1899 Hastings 1895 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22

1

2

3

4

331

5

6

7

8

9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 Pts

Pillsbury, Harry N. • 0 0 1 1 Chigorin, Mikhail I. 1 • 1 1 0 Lasker, Emanuel 1 0 • 0 1 Tarrasch, Siegbert 0 0 1 • 1 Steinitz, William 0 1 0 0 • Schiffers, Emmanuil S. 0 1 0 0 0 Von Bardeleben, Curt – 0 1 ½ 0 Teichmann, Richard 0 0 0 1 ½ Schlechter, Carl 1 0 0 ½ ½ Blackburne, Joseph H. ½ 0 1 0 0 Walbrodt, Carl ½ ½ 0 0 0 Burn, Amos 0 0 0 0 ½ Janowski, Dawid M. 0 1 0 0 1 Mason, James 0 0 ½ 1 0 Bird, Henry E. 0 ½ 0 0 1 Gunsberg, Isidor A. 0 0 0 ½ 0 Albin, Adolf 0 ½ ½ 0 0 Marco, Georg ½ 0 0 0 0 Pollock, William 0 0 0 1 1 Mieses, Jacques 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ Tinsley, Samuel 0 0 0 0 0 Vergani, Beniamino 0 0 0 0 0

1 0 1 1 1 • ½ ½ 1 0 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 0 1 ½ 0 ½ 0 0

+ 1 0 ½ 1 ½ • ½ ½ 1 1 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 0 0 1 0

1 1 1 0 ½ ½ ½ • ½ 1 1 0 ½ 0 0 1 ½ 0 ½ 0 0 0

0 ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 ½ 1 0 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 0 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 0 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 0 1 0 1 1 0 1 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 0 ½ 0 0 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ ½ 0 0 1 ½ 1 1 0 ½ • ½ ½ 1 0 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ • 0 1 1 ½ ½ 0 1 ½ 1 • 0 0 ½ ½ ½ 0 0 0 1 • 1 0 ½ 0 1 1 0 1 0 • ½ ½ 0 0 0 1 ½ 1 ½ • 1 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 • 1 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 0 • 1 ½ 0 1 0 1 ½ 0 0 • ½ 1 ½ 0 0 1 ½ ½ 1 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 1 1 1 ½ 1 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 1 ½ 1 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 ½

½ 1 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 0 ½ 1 1 0 ½ ½ 0 • 0 0 1 ½

1 1 1 0 0 1 1 ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 0 0 0 1 • 1 1 0

1 1 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 0 1 1 1 1 ½ 1 0 0 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 0 1 1 0 1 ½ ½ 1 1 0 0 1 1 ½ 1 0 ½ 0 0 1 • 1 1 0 • 1 0 0 •

16½ 16 15½ 14 13 12 11½ 11½ 11 10½ 10 9½ 9½ 9½ 9 9 8½ 8½ 8 7½ 7½ 3

Pillsbury had a walkover against Bardeleben because of illness. All other games were played.

the Metropolitan Chess Club, held at Mullen’s Hotel in London on 26 October. Steinitz proposed a toast to “The Game of Chess” and Lasker responded to the toast of “The Visitors.”19 Steinitz’s exact date of departure from England is unknown. The Morning Post of 18 November reported that he had been giving exhibitions in Paris, whence he would proceed to Frankfurt and Berlin on his way to St. Petersburg, where he played the Four Masters tournament with Chigorin, Lasker, and Pillsbury between 13 December 1895 and late January 1896. A casual game in Paris on the 22nd of November and a simul in the German capital on the 26th are known.

1896 and 1897 in Brief After his match with Schiffers, played at Rostov-on-Don (late February to 2 April 1896), Steinitz returned to Moscow where he settled the conditions for his re-match with Lasker, to start there in the fall. He then traveled to Estonia where he played a simul in the city of Tartu (then called Dorpat). From there Steinitz continued to Saxony, where he played simuls in Magdeburg and Leipzig, and then on to Holland. He played in Hilversum on 6 May, Rotterdam on 7 May, and on 8 May against 32 opponents in Haarlem.20 Scholten found that the Palamedes chess club of Leiden cooperated in the attempts of the Rotterdam chess club to bring Steinitz to the

Netherlands, by providing a deposit of 60 Dutch florins, and that Steinitz also visited the Discendo Discimus club in The Hague once more, but stated no dates for those meetings.21 According to the Falkirk Herald of 13 May 1896, Steinitz also visited Utrecht; by that date he was in Britain. Landsberger wrote that there “was hardly sufficient time” for Steinitz to return to New York between his European tour of early 1896 and the Nuremberg tournament in August 1896, so he doubted a statement in the New York Sun obituary that the master came back for a while to America—but the Sun was right.22 Two chess writers, Guest and MacDonnell, noted Steinitz’s brief visit to London on his way home. Guest’s column in the Morning Post of 18 May was chiefly about the reconstitution of the Divan Chess Association at a meeting the previous week. He stated that Lasker was involved in this and went on to say: Mr. Steinitz, who was passing through London last week on his way from Russia to New York, was present at a meeting of the Divan Association, of which he expressed his cordial approval, and was unanimously elected an honorary member. But for his arrangements, which necessitated his departure on Friday, Mr. Steinitz would have taken part in the match with the City of London Chess Club on that day.

MacDonnell, in the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News of 30 May, said that Steinitz “celebrated his birthday

332

Steinitz in London

in London by playing a game of dominoes with Lasker.” He then sailed for New York on Friday, 15 May. Shipping records show that on 22 May 1896, W. Steinitz, U.S. citizen, aged 60, arrived on the SS Furst Bismarck out of Southampton. Steinitz returned to Europe after six weeks at home, but not via England. He left New York on 2 July on board the Columbia and arrived in Hamburg on the 10th. Two days later he gave a simul in that city before going to the Nuremberg tournament (20 July to 10 August).23 Steinitz remained for several weeks in Germany because he had been invited by a man he knew in New York, Richard Buz, to visit Augsburg. Arriving there on Friday, 14 August, he was accommodated at the Hotel Kaiserhof at the expense of the Augsburg Chess Club, of which Buz was president. There Steinitz met his future biographer, Ludwig Bachmann, but it is possible that they had previously corresponded. According to Landsberger, Steinitz “did not want to hear” Bachmann’s sug-

Steinitz’s passport application, submitted to the U.S. consulate in Vienna, and authorized by Max Judd, 26 October 1896.

gestion that he should retire from active play and write his memoirs; probably he could not afford to do so.24 This was undoubtedly the germ of Bachmann’s intention to do the job himself. There are two known games where Bachmann played chess with Steinitz. The day after his arrival, Steinitz played a short game against him and a club member named Hausler, in consultation, which was drawn and is included in Schachmeister Steinitz. That book also includes a Kieseritzky Gambit won against Bachmann in 43 moves in a simultaneous display, which Bachmann says on page 205 was played on 19 August. Yet on page 203 he says Steinitz gave a simultaneous display on 17 August against the best 20 players in the club, conceding only one draw. So either there were two simuls or more likely a misprint in the book. Bachmann also says that the Augsburg club treated Steinitz to a fine supper on 20 August, which was probably the evening before he left to take a water cure as preparation for his re-match with Lasker. Before going to Russia, Steinitz went to Vienna to have his passport renewed at the United States consulate in Vienna. It was almost exactly eight years since he had become an American citizen, so it may be that his original passport was expiring, or perhaps was nearly full up with entry stamps from the various countries he had visited. It might look odd that he did not go instead to Berlin for this, since that city would have been on his direct route to Russia, but he knew Vienna well, had friends there. Above all, he would have known that the American chess master Max Judd, living there at the time, could assist him in obtaining the passport. Indeed the signature of the official at the foot of the document appears to be that of Judd, who was a U.S. Consul. The application document also includes several interesting details about Steinitz’s stay in Germany, including the fact that he spent time in Bad Wörishofen, continuing his policy of taking a course of hydrotherapy treatment before important chess contests.25 That is where Steinitz appears to have spent several weeks in between his Augsburg visit and going to Vienna. The passport application also confirms that Landsberger was correct in stating the date of Steinitz’s naturalization as 23 November 1888. Once the new passport was issued, Steinitz must have traveled to Moscow where the match began in early November but he failed hopelessly to regain the world title from Lasker. After that crushing defeat and his time spent afterwards in a Moscow psychiatric clinic, Steinitz was able to leave Russia and went back to Vienna to recover for several weeks.26 While there, he played some casual games with Schlechter and Fahndrich. He must then have traveled by train to Hamburg to catch his passage home. The first (June 1897) issue of the American Chess Magazine carries a sketch of him on page 33 with the announcement that he arrived in New York aboard the SS Pennsylvania on 20 May.27 He had been at sea

13. Last Visits to England, 1895–1899 on 14 May, when the officers of the ship and cabin passengers held a banquet in his honor “and he was presented with a piece of silver plate and a chess board made out of marchpane [marzipan?] by the ship’s confectioner.” Actually it was his 61st birthday but the magazine said his 60th.

Back in Europe, 1898 Steinitz was in Europe again in the summer of 1898 for the marathon double-round Kaiser’s Jubilee tournament in Vienna. He played his last game on 25 July, and in the evening of the next day most of the prizes were awarded at a ceremony in Vienna Chess Club, since many players needed to travel before the play-off between Tarrasch and Pillsbury that decided first prize.28 Steinitz was among the seven Vienna competitors who went on to the 11th German Chess Federation congress in Cologne, which ran from 1 to 19 August. There Burn scored his greatest career success. Cologne was one of the worst documented major tournaments of the late–nineteenth century; many of the games are lost and no book was published until Vlastimil Fiala’s research bore fruit in 1997.* Four of Steinitz’s games are completely missing while fragments survive of three others (two finishes and the opening moves of his game with Charousek). In view of the inadequate documentation of this event, one can only summarize the progress of Steinitz’s tournament with comments from contemporary papers. In round one, Steinitz narrowly escaped defeat as The Field of 6 August said. It printed a diagram and the final moves: “A clear won game for [Wilhelm] Cohn, who played with vigour and ingenuity. At the supreme moment, when short of time, he overlooked the winning move….”29 Despite this slip, Cohn soon took an early lead in the tournament. Only the instructive finish is preserved (see diagram):

wDrDwDwD DwDwDwDp wDwDwDpD 0w1wDwDk wDBDw!wD DPDwDwDP PDPDw$wI DwDbDwDw

White to move

Cohn could have won by 1. Re2, threatening Re5†; the rook cannot be captured because of mate in one. Instead the game ended 1. Be6?? Q×f2† 2. Q×f2 R×c2 ½–½.30 Round 2 (2 August): The Standard said “Steinitz won with *V. Fiala (ed.), Cologne 1898. 11th German Chess Association Congress (Olomouc: Moravian Chess 1997).

333

facility against [Ignatz von] Popiel.” This game is in Hooper and Pickard but not Bachmann. Round 3 (3 August): The moves are lost. The Field (same date) said [Hermann von] Gottschall had a winning attack at the adjournment, and increased his advantage further upon resumption, “but Steinitz managed to escape with a draw.” Round 4 (4 August): The Standard and The Field both said that [Arved] Heinrichsen, under a misapprehension, resigned against Steinitz in a position he should at least have drawn. The moves are lost; Steinitz played White. Round 5 (5 August): Bachmann game 938; Burn played one of the best games of his career to defeat his mentor Steinitz; it lasted 72 moves. The game is annotated in Forster’s biography of Burn starting on page 619, with the score taken from The Field of 13 August 1898; it also appeared in the Schachzeitung for February 1899. ChessBase Mega Database 2017 has an incorrect score from this position (see diagram):

Black to move

wDwDwiwD DwDwDw0K pDrgw0w0 Dw0RDPDw wDBDP)wD DPDwDw)w wDwDwDwD DwDwDwDw

White threatens to win by e4–e5. After 55. … a5?? (which is in the database), White could execute the threat. The move Steinitz actually played, 55. … h5, set a trap since now 56. e5? would fail to 56. … f×e5 because if 57. f×e5 B×e5 58. R×e5?? Rh6 mate! Instead Burn retained his decisive advantage by 56. Kg6 and Steinitz resigned on move 72. Round 6 (6 August): Steinitz played the Vienna against Rudolf Charousek and won. The Field, 13 August, said that “Steinitz had a minute—very minute—advantage in the ending, and by dint of perseverance, increased it to a winning position.” The game is lost to posterity; only the first six moves are known: 1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d5 4. d3 d4 5. Nce2 Nc6 6. Nf3 Ng4. … (from a note to a postal game in the Wiener Schachzeitung, 1899, p. 75). Round 7 (8 August): Bachmann game 939; the Standard, 15 August, says “Janowski made him a present of a whole game.” Round 8 (9 August): Bachmann game 940; Steinitz lost in 56 moves with White against [Alexander] Fritz who played the Vienna Opening against him. Hoffer wrote: The only hitch that occurred in the tournament was an incident similar to the one between Steinitz and Lipke at Vienna [1898]. Then, as now, Steinitz claimed the game by his opponent having exceeded his time. But now, as then, it was found to be a vexatious disturbance of his opponent only. It was Steinitz who left out several moves in recording the game, whilst his opponent’s scores were correct.31

334

Steinitz in London

Round 9 (10 August): Steinitz (Black) drew with Schallopp in 60 moves; Hoffer said Schallopp should have won it. This was the last round for which Hoffer wrote a detailed report. This game was not found by Bachmann but is in later collections. It was annotated in the London Standard, 15 August 1898. Round 10 (12 August): Steinitz (White) beat Schiffers. There were light notes in the Standard, 29 August 1898. After 10 rounds Cohn had 8 points, half a point ahead of Burn. Steinitz and Charousek were in joint third with 6½. The Standard of 15 August says that this round was scheduled for 11 August but postponed because of Fritz’s blindfold exhibition. It had been suggested that only the Fritz versus Cohn game be postponed but Steinitz objected. There was also no round on Saturday 13th because of a banquet and fête, and no play on Sundays, so in a run of four days there was only one game. Round 11 (15 August): Bachmann game 941; Steinitz (Black) lost quickly to Schlechter. This was annotated in I.L.N., 3 September 1898, and the Schachzeitung for September. Round 12 (16 August): Steinitz (White) beat Albin; the score is missing.

Round 13 (17 August): Bachmann game 942; Steinitz (Black) lost to Showalter. Round 14 (18 August): Steinitz was number 15 in the draw so, according to Professor Berger’s own pairing system he had his double Black here against the Austrian. Still, he won, but the score is missing. Round 15 (19 August): Bachmann game 943 (finish only). The Standard of 22 August published a report datelined the 19th, while games were still in progress. It said “Tchigorin [sic] is engaged with Steinitz, the result being doubtful. Later in the day, said a postscript, Steinitz eventually won, which ensured his old friend Burn would finish in sole first and Steinitz in sole fifth.” Landsberger does not say what Steinitz did for the next two weeks after Cologne, but his arrival in England was noted in the Morning Post chess column conducted by Guest. On 5 September the paper said: Chess players in London last week had an opportunity of welcoming Mr. Steinitz back to the scenes of his early achievements. Since he took up his residence in America some 14 years ago his visits to this country have been very rare, and after the adverse reports that have been circulated concerning his health it is satisfactory to find the old champion looking fairly well, notwithstanding his eleven weeks battle at Vienna and Cologne. Mr. Steinitz will remain in London about a fortnight longer before returning to New York.

The Isle of Wight Observer of Saturday, 17 September, in what was clearly a report written in advance, mentioned that the Southern Counties Chess Union Congress was being held in Salisbury, Wiltshire, and that “Mr. Blackburne and Herr Steinitz are to be present, and will give exhibitions of blindfold and simultaneous play.” Blackburne did indeed play blindfold in Salisbury that day but whether Steinitz went is doubtful. The Ipswich Journal, also of 17 September, said that: Mr. Steinitz has been spending the week quietly at Simpson’s, having played only a few games with an old friend, declining to play with anyone else. He looks well and quite his old self again. He intends returning to New York this week.

Sketch of Steinitz by Mrs. Gertrude Anderson (née Field), three times British Ladies’ Champion, probably done at one of Steinitz’s last European tournaments in the 1890s, and reproduced in the British Chess Federation’s Chess Pie (1922).

Steinitz remained a little longer in England. The Morning Post of Monday, 19 September said that on Wednesday the Hastings and St. Leonards Chess Club would hold its annual meeting after which, at 7 p.m., Steinitz was to play a simultaneous display, adding that “Mr. Steinitz has not given a similar performance in England for 17 years.” A short report in the Hastings and St. Leonards Observer on 24 September (page 3) confirms that Steinitz did indeed play a simultaneous in the town at the Queen’s Hotel. He played 19 games but the score was not stated. “A small charge was made to those who entered the lists against him, some of whom will be able to remember with pride that they held their own against one of the most redoubtable chess players who ever fingered a pawn.” Another report on page 7 of the same newspaper described him entering the room, leaning on his stick:

13. Last Visits to England, 1895–1899 In appearance he is peculiar, and, with a very prominent forehead, slightly grey hair and reddish beard, makes a striking figure. He is below the medium height, and portly. Jovial and good-humoured, chess is the very embodiment of his life; in fact, he is almost exclusively absorbed in it, and is apt to lose sight of outside considerations. His style of play is firm and tenacious, and he scores rather by accurate positioning and steady crushing than by brilliant attacks and rapid finishes. He always treats his opponents with due respect, in that he invariably does his best, although he is accustomed to indulge in all kinds of eccentricities, prompted, perhaps, by a desire to try experiments, and by confidence in his own ability, to make up for lost ground if necessary.

The Morning Post on 26 September was more informative. Steinitz’s exhibition was three hours in duration. He won 16 games and all his opponents were named. The three local players who had held him to a draw were named as the club’s honorary secretary, H. E. Dobell, A. R. Henry, and H. King. The defeated club members were Miss Hallaway, Miss Watson, Mrs. Jobling, Mrs. Sercombe, Mrs. Stevens, Captain de Leenheer, Captain Gardiner, General Bengough, and Messrs. H. Bonham, F. J. Mann, H. R. Mackeson, Angelo Lewis, J. T. Pughe, J. A. Watt, F. W. Womersley, and E. Abney Walker. Guest’s report added that Steinitz was going to Liverpool next day, 27 September, “and will probably sail for New York on Saturday.” The Liverpool Chess Club report for the year ending September 1899 says (page 6) that “Mr. Steinitz paid a few days visit to the Club last October, on his way to America.” No games played by Steinitz either at Hastings or in Liverpool on these occasions seem to have been preserved. It seems, though, that the 1898 club annual report had been written just too early to include a mention of Steinitz’s visit and that most probably he had visited in late September 1898 and sailed for America on the date Guest had said. So Steinitz spent about five days on Merseyside. On page 373 of his biography, Landsberger says that Steinitz came home to America in October on the Campania (a Cunard liner). There was a sailing of the Campania from Liverpool on Saturday, 1 October, arriving in New York on 7 October. The next westward sailing of that vessel was not until 29 October and it is hardly likely Steinitz would have remained four more weeks in England.32 Landsberger says that during the voyage Steinitz gave an exhibition of blindfold chess, winning all four simultaneous games. On the same page, Landsberger says that after his return Steinitz was “engaged in two games with the Liverpool Club, and another with Dublin Chess Club, the latter arranged by the Hon. Horace Plunkett, M. P.” His source, shown on page 255 of The Steinitz Papers, was a passage from the American Chess Magazine for November 1898 but that report was erroneous. There was only a single game with Liverpool. Moreover, there was no match against Dublin. Plunkett’s attempt to arrange it failed. The club’s committee meeting minute book records on 5 October 1898 that “The Hon. Secretary was

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instructed to inform Mr. Plunkett that the club would not undertake a correspondence game with Steinitz on account of the great time that would be necessary.” It is unclear whether such a match was Steinitz’s idea or Plunkett’s. As for the Liverpool match, the club’s report goes on to say that: “In December, 1898, a game by Correspondence was started against Mr. Steinitz in America. Mr. Steinitz having the Whites, played the Steinitz Gambit. The game being conducted by a Committee of four, Mr. J. Cairns, Mr. F. E. Spedding, Mr. D. Powell and Mr. E. A. Greig.” The report gave the score of the game up to and including Black’s 25th move. Moreover, the game is sometimes wrongly dated.33 The Liverpool Chess Club annual report for the 1898/99 season states that the match began in December 1898 and was still in progress in September 1899, giving the moves up to Black’s 25th. The club’s 1900 report says that the game ended in March 1900 with victory for Liverpool. The playing committee annotated the game which appeared in full in the June 1900 issue of British Chess Magazine, volume 20, pages 242–245. As with the previous match, the moves would have been transmitted by cable to speed up the play.

596. Steinitz–Liverpool Chess Club Correspondence match 1898–1900 Vienna Game, Steinitz Gambit (C25) Bachmann (game 960); B.C.M., XX (June 1900), pages 243–245, had notes by the Liverpool club playing committee, on which the following notes are partly based.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 Qh4† 5. Ke2 d5 6. e×d5 Bg4† 7. Nf3 0–0–0 8. d×c6 Bc5 9. Qe1! Steinitz was hoping to revive his gambit which the American Chess Magazine had declared refuted following a game played in New York in 1897, Steinitz v. Honegger and Raubitschek. 9. Qe1 had been suggested by L’Hermet of Magdeburg, and was supposed to improve upon the course previously adopted: for which, see the notes to Game 364. It is possible that computers will vindicate Steinitz’s judgment that 9. Qe1 leads to objectively somewhat the better chances for White. He spoiled the game at move 20, probably because he was unwell. 9. … Qh5 If 9. … Re8† 10. Kd2 Qd8 11. Qf2 etc., and if 9. … B×f3† 10. g×f3 Re8† 11. Ne4 Qh5 12. Kd2 f5 13. Bh3 Nh6 14. Qf1 and White should win in either case. 10. c×b7† If 10. B×f4 B×d4 and White has no satisfactory reply, e.g., 11. Nd1 Qb5† 12. Kd2 B×b2† etc., or 11. Be3 B×e3 12. K×e3 Re8† 13. Ne4 Nf6 14. Bd3 N×e4 15. B×e4 f5 etc.; or 11. Qg3 Nf6 12. Bd2 Rhe8† 13. Kd1 B×c3 14. b×c3 Ne4 etc. The Liverpool committee here offered a long line claiming to show that if Black were to meet 10. B×f4 by L’Hermet’s continuation 10. … Re8† then he would lose, and another line showing how Black would obtain a good game after 10. d×c5. 10. … Kb8 (see diagram)

336

Steinitz in London

wiw4wDn4 0P0wDp0p wDwDwDwD DwgwDwDq wDw)w0bD DwHwDNDw P)PDKDP) $wGw!BDR

After 10. … Kb8

11. Kd1 This is presumably why Steinitz wanted to try out this line. 11. Kd2 has been preferred by several commentators and tried in some modern correspondence games. 11. … B×d4?! 11. … B×f3† may be better but the claim in Tseitlin and Glazkov’s book The Complete Vienna (1995) that it leads to a clear advantage to Black is not borne out by engine analysis, e.g., 12. g×f3 R×d4† 13. Bd3 Q×f3† 14. Ne2 Nf6 15. Rf1 R×d3† 16. c×d3 Q×d3† 17. Qd2 Qa6 18. Rf3 and the fight goes on. White has an extra rook but his queenside pieces are not yet in play. Also 11. … R×d4† 12. Bd3 B×f3† 13. g×f3 Q×f3† 14. Ne2 is in White’s favor. 12. Bd2 B×c3 13. b×c3 B×f3† 14. g×f3 Q×f3† 15. Be2 Q×c3 16. Rb1 Nf6 17. Bd3 Qc6 18. Rg1 Rhe8 19. Qf2 Nd5 20. Qd4? The Liverpool committee made no comment but this was the losing move. White has several better options at his disposal not mentioned in their notes, of which one at least may be winning for him, viz., 20. Re1! R×e1† (or 20. … Nc3† 21. B×c3 Q×c3 22. Rb3 R×e1† 23. Q×e1 Qa1† 24. Kd2) 21. Q×e1 and it is doubtful whether Black can justify his piece sacrifice. 20. … Ne3† 21. B×e3 f×e3 If 21. … R×d4 then 22. B×d4 and wins. 22. Q×g7 f5 “Mr. Steinitz overlooked this strong move when he played 22. Q×g7.” 23. Qg2 Qc3 24. Ke2 24. Qe2 was expected, but the text move is probably equally good. 24. … f4 25. Rbe1 If 25. Rb3 then 25. … Qd2† 26. Kf3 e2 27. B×e2 Re3† 28. R×e3 Q×e3† 29. Kg4 Rg8† 30. Kh4 R×g2 31. R×g2 f3 32. Rg8† K×b7 33. Bd3 f2 and wins. 25. … f3† This was the last move published in the Liverpool Club 1899 report, so that was the state of play in September 1899. Steinitz was already losing. 26. K×f3 If 26. Q×f3 then 26. … Qd2† 27. Kf1 Rf8 28. Bf5 (If 28. Rg3 R×f3† 29. R×f3 Rg8 and wins) 28. … Rd5 29. Rg5 e2† etc., and wins. 26. … Rf8† 27. Kg4 Qg7† 28. Kh4 Qh6† 29. Kg3 Qg5† 30. Kh3 Qh5† 31. Kg3 Rf6 32. h4 Rg8† 33. Kh3 Q×h4† 34. K×h4 Rh6 mate (0–1).

London International Tournament 1899 Steinitz’s final visit to England was in 1899 for the London international, which was also his last tournament, and the last for Bird too. Steinitz’s health and strength were seriously

on the wane and a leading chess journalist said he looked “old and worn.”34 A long fight against the world’s best players was now beyond his depleted powers, but still he fought, as he always had done. The congress had been proposed in 1898 by Sir George Newnes and arranged by a large committee drawn from most of the chess organizations in England. From this an executive committee was elected to be chiefly responsible for running the tournaments: Dr. Ballard, J. H. Blake, H. A. H. Carson, Horace Chapman, H. E. Dobell, F. W. Lord, T. H. Moore, F. G. Naumann, J. Sidney Smith, G. E. Wainwright, W. Ward-Higgs, and W. W. White. Named additionally were H. W. Trenchard (honorary treasurer), Leopold Hoffer (foreign secretary), Junius L. Cope, and J. Walter Russell (honorary secretaries). Of those, Dobell had been the principal organizer of Hastings 1895 and the arrangement of rounds was done similarly except that London 1899 was a double round tournament. Each opponent was met once in the first half and then with reversed colors in the second half but not in the same sequence. Once again, players would not find out until the morning which numbered round would be drawn by lot, determining who their opponent of that day would be.35 As a result of this, Steinitz twice had three successive games with Black and also twice had three successive Whites. The tournament was of mixed strength, with the overseas masters lacking only Tarrasch, but the contingent of home players was not as strong as the organizers intended, with Blackburne alone doing justice to British chess. Tinsley had already shown at Hastings that he would be outclassed. As late as Monday, 29 May, the day when the opening ceremony was to take place, several newspapers including the Morning Post named Burn and Horatio Caro (who had dual citizenship) among the competitors. When the Globe of Tuesday 30th reported the opening it was announced that Caro, now called “one of the German representatives,” had withdrawn because of illness, and that Burn “withdrew at the last moment,” with no reason being stated. Lee, who had hopes of a decent prize in the subsidiary tournament, agreed to be promoted to replace Caro although he was hardly strong enough. Since Burn had won the 1898 Cologne tournament and was undoubtedly the strongest British master at the time, his absence seriously weakened the tournament and this was aggravated when Teichmann’s eye trouble forced his withdrawal after a few rounds. British Chess Magazine declined to say why Burn had withdrawn, but The Standard of 31 May said he withdrew “because he could not endorse, tardily, some of the rules which govern the Tournament.” As Hoffer wrote for that newspaper, this is only one side of the story. Burn’s biographer Richard Forster dealt with this matter in some detail and quoted in his book the explanations given in the American Chess Magazine and a local paper from Burn’s home city, Liverpool, and also a Birmingham newspaper.36 Forster

13. Last Visits to England, 1895–1899 also quoted an opinion on the matter expressed by Jacques Mieses (in B.C.M. 1948), who in 1899 had been playing in the subsidiary tournament. The underlying explanation appears to be that Burn had long-standing personal differences with several members of the British Chess Club, especially Hoffer, and chose to use a disagreement over the playing conditions and the tournament regulations as an excuse to withdraw. The tournament book (henceforth referred to as London book) passes over the withdrawal of Burn in silence. No individual was credited as author on the title page but hidden away on page xxv are the names of Lord and Ward-Higgs, identified as having edited it and overseen it for the press.37 Hoffer was also named (on page xxv) as annotator of all the games. He recycled verbatim the notes to those games which he had written for The Field, but some of his more negative comments about Steinitz in that paper were omitted. For example, in the survey of round 21 in the column of 1 July, in respect of Steinitz’s loss to Schlechter, Hoffer had said “it is another frightful example…” and in another game Steinitz’s play was called “deplorable.” Worse, in his final assessment of all the players in The Field on 22 July he was particularly vicious about Steinitz and wrote: “There is not even a shadow of his former power and high qualities left, but his defects stand out in immeasurable proportions. His games are inartistic in shape, and no pleasure is to be derived from playing them over.” Belatedly he recanted and on 7 October The Field included Steinitz’s win against Mason from round 3, concluding “it affords pleasure and instruction to the student to play it through.” The London book is far from satisfactory because, instead of a synoptic arrangement with round-by-round comments as in the Hastings 1895 book, games were arranged by openings, a system which gives the reader no sense of the round by round development or drama of the competition. Nor were the dates of play clearly stated in the book, although a table of rounds was provided, so the sequence and dates of Steinitz’s games had to be established from press reports. For each game provided below are the number and page where it may be found in the book. The venue for the games was St. Stephen’s Hall, adjoining the Royal Aquarium on Tothill Street, in Westminster. The Aquarium, which had opened in 1876, was a public amusement palace including a theater and concert hall with which the composer Arthur Sullivan was associated.38 Despite its name, it rarely put live fish on display. Its association with chess went back to October 1878 (at least), when Gümpel first put Mephisto on view there. By 1899 this was not a prestigious venue; in 1903 it closed and was soon demolished; the Methodist Central Hall now stands on the site. The London book explained that it had been difficult to find a convenient venue with the funds available; at the Hall chosen “at any rate space was ample, and the position central.”

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Play in the tournament was on five days a week with Thursdays set aside for playing off unfinished games. Hours of play were 12 noon to 4:30 p.m. and then 6:30 p.m. to 10:30 p.m. In the evening session a game could be adjourned by mutual consent at any time, provided that at least 60 moves had been made on each side. The event started on 30 May and the last round was on 10 July. Bachmann omitted several games from this tournament in volume 4 of his first edition; apparently he did not have access to the London book. He added some more games in an appendix to the second edition of the second volume, which was the last of the series to be published. He did not date them. Pickard’s book has all the games but undated and, as with his database, not in the correct sequence. Hooper’s collection appears to be the first (and only book until now) to have all Steinitz’s games in the right order and dated. One major discrepancy (Game 615) and two minor ones (Games 597 and 614) were found in some works concerning the finishes of Steinitz games but the London book must be considered authoritative.

597. E. Lasker–Steinitz London international (1), 30 May 1899 Ruy Lopez (C62) Bachmann (game 944); London book (game 28), page 37.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 d6 4. d4 Bd7 5. Nc3 Nf6 6. 0–0 Be7 7. B×c6 B×c6 8. Re1 e×d4 9. N×d4 Bd7 10. h3 0–0 11. Be3 c6 12. Qf3 Ne8 13. Rad1 g6 14. Bh6 Ng7 15. Qe2 Re8 16.  B×g7 K×g7 17.  Qd3 Qa5 18.  Re3 Rad8 19.  a3 Bg5 20. Re2 Bf6 21. Re3 Bc8 22. Qe2 Qb6 23. Na4 Qc7 24. Nc3 Qb6 25. Na4 ½–½. (Pickard had an additional move pair which is not in the tournament book: 25. … Qc7 26. Nc3.)

598. Steinitz–D. Janowski London international (2), 31 May 1899 Queen’s Gambit Accepted (D26) Bachmann (game 945); London book (game 117), pages 136–137.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 a6 4. e3 Nf6 5. Nf3 d×c4 6. B×c4 b5 7. Bb3 Bb7 8. 0–0 c5 9. Qe2 c×d4 10. e×d4 Be7 11. Rd1 0–0 12. Bg5 Nbd7 13. d5 e×d5 14. N×d5 Re8 15. Ne3 Qb6 16.  B×f6 N×f6 17.  Ne5 Rf8 18.  Nf5 Bc5 19.  Nd7 Qc6 20.  N×f6† Q×f6 21.  Bd5 Rfe8 22.  Qc2 B×d5 23.  Q×c5 B×g2? In a superior position, Janowski played an unsound bishop sacrifice which Steinitz might have refuted at move 25, as pointed out in the Morning Post on 2 June. 24. K×g2 Rac8 25. Qd5? 25. Re1. 25. … Re5 26. Qd7 Q×f5 27. Rac1 Qe4† 28. f3 Rg5† 29. Kf2 Qh4† 30. Kf1 Rf8 31. Rc2 g6 32. Rd4 Qh5 33. Rf2 Rf5 34. Kg2 Qg5† 35. Kf1 Rc5 36. Rg4 Rc1† 37. Kg2 Qc5 38. Rd4 Rc8 39. Rh4 Qg5† 40. Rg4 Qf6 41. b4 h5 42. Rd4 R8c2 43. h4 R×f2† 44. K×f2 Rc2† 45. Kg3 Qe5† 0–1

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Steinitz in London

599. J. Mason–Steinitz London international (3), 2 June 1899 Ruy Lopez (C62) Bachmann (game 946); London book (game 37), pages 45–46, where Hoffer called it “the best game Steinitz played in this tournament. Every move was calculated to a nicety, and made at the right moment.” Mason played the opening too quietly instead of confronting Steinitz’s Defense with 4. d4.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 d6 4. Nc3 Nf6 5. d3 g6 6. Bg5 Bg7 7. Nd5 0–0 8. Qd2 Be6 9. Bc4 B×d5 10. B×d5 Qd7 11. B×c6 Q×c6 12. 0–0 Nh5 13. Nh4 f5 14. e×f5 g×f5 15. Qe2 Qe8 16.  c3 Qf7 17.  Bd2 Rae8 18.  Nf3 d5 19.  Ng5 Qg6 20. Nh3 f4 21. f3 Nf6 22. Rad1 Nd7 23. Bc1 Qa6 24. a3 Nc5 25. Qc2 Ne6 26. Kh1 c5 27. Rfe1 Qc6 28. Qf2 a5 29. Qc2 b5 30. Nf2 c4 31. d×c4 b×c4 32. Re2 Nc5 33. Rde1 a4 34. Kg1 e4 35. Rf1 Qg6 36. Kh1 e3 37. Q×g6 h×g6 38. Nh3 Bh6 39. g3 g5 40. g×f4 g×f4 41. Rg2† Kf7 42. Ng1 Rg8 43. R×g8 R×g8 44. Ne2 Nd3 45. h3 Rb8 46. Kg2 Bg7 47. Rd1 Be5 48. Kf1 Rg8 49. Ng1 R×g1† 50. K×g1 e2 0–1

600. Steinitz–M. I. Chigorin London international (4), 3 June 1899 Queen’s Gambit, Chigorin Defense (D07) Bachmann (game 955); London book (game 113), pages 131–133.

This was nominally round 19 but because of the randomized sequence it was actually played in round 4 on Saturday, 3 June. Bachmann misdated it to 30 June. The Standard, 5 June, commented: “After two hours’ play Steinitz’s game looked hopeless. The veteran had one of his happy inspirations of former times, sacrificed the exchange, and so escaped with a draw. It was considered that Tchigorin [sic] should have won before the sacrifice.” 1. d4 d5 2. c4 Nc6 3. Nf3 Bg4 4. c×d5 B×f3 5. g×f3 Q×d5 6. e3 e6 7. Nc3 Bb4 8. Bd2 Qd7 9. Qa4 Nge7 10. Bb5 a6 11. a3 B×c3 12. B×c3 0–0 13. Be2 Nd5 14. Bd2 Rad8 15. Rc1 e5 16. d×e5 Nf4 17. Rc2 N×e2 18. K×e2 Qd3† 19. Kd1 Nd4 20. Qc4 Qf5 21. f4 N×c2 22. Q×c2 Qg4† 23. Kc1 Qg2 24. Re1 Q×f2 25. Bc3 Q×c2† 26. K×c2 f5 27. Kb3 Kf7 28. Kc4 Ke6 29. Rg1 Rf7 30. Bd4 Rd5 31. b4 Rfd7 32. a4 g6 33. h4 c6 34. a5 Rg7 35. h5 Rd8 36. h×g6 h×g6 37. Rh1 Re8 38. Kc5 Rd7 39. Rh6 Rg8 40. Kc4 Rdg7 41. Kc5 Re8 42. Bc3 Kf7 43. Bd4 Kg8 44. Kd6 Kf7 45. Kd7 Re7† 46. Kd6 Re6† ½–½

601. S. Tinsley–Steinitz London international (5), 5 June 1899 Queen’s Pawn Game (D00) Bachmann (2d ed., game 977); London book (game 163), page 189. Tinsley followed up his home-made opening with a totally unsound sacrifice; this was hardly play worthy of an international master tournament.

1. d4 d5 2. e3 e6 3. Nd2 c5 4. Nb3?! c4 5. Nd2 b5 6. c3 Nf6 7. a4 b4 8. g3 Nc6 9. Bg2 Bd7 10. Ne2 Rb8 11. 0–0 Be7 12. e4 0–0 13. Re1 Na5 14. Nf4 d×e4 15. Qe2? Qc7 16. Nh5 N×h5 17. Q×h5 f5 18. N×e4? g6 19. Qh6 f×e4 20. B×e4 Rf7 21. Bf4 Bd6 22. B×g6 h×g6 23. Re5 Rg7 24. Rae1 Rf8 25. d5 R×f4 26. g×f4 B×e5 27. R×e5 e×d5 0–1

602. J. W. Showalter–Steinitz London international (6), 6 June 1899 Ruy Lopez (C62) Bachmann (game 947); London book (game 29), pages 37–38. Showalter met Steinitz’s defense more precisely than Lasker had done, forcing Black to give up the center. Showalter gave Steinitz a chance to save himself but the veteran missed a surprising resource at move 28.

1.  e4 e5 2.  Nf3 Nc6 3.  Bb5 d6 4.  d4 Bd7 5.  Nc3 Nf6 6.  B×c6 B×c6 7.  Qd3! exd4 8.  N×d4 Bd7 9.  Bg5 c6 10. 0–0–0 Qa5 11. Bf4 Nh5 12. Be3 Be7 13. h3 0–0 14. g4 Nf6 15. Nb3 Qc7 16. Bg5 Be6 17. B×f6 B×f6 18. Q×d6 Qb6 19. Qc5 Q×c5 20. N×c5 B×c3 21. b×c3 B×a2 22. N×b7 a5 23. Rd6? White gets into a muddle; 23. Kd2 planning Ra1 is one of several better moves. 23. … Rab8 24. Rd7 a4 25. Kd2 Be6 26. Rc7 a3 27. Ra1 a2 28. f4 f6!? The computer finds 28. … f5! 29. g×f5 Rf7 30. R×c6 Bd7 exploiting the tangle of White pieces. 29. Kc1 g5? 29. … Rf7 still gave good chances of saving the game. 30. f5 Bf7 31. Nd6 Ra8 32. R×c6 Ra7 33. Rb6 Kg7 34. Kb2 Rfa8 35. c4 Bg8 36. c5 Kf8 37. Nb5 Ra4 38. Nc3 R4a5 39. c6 Ke7 40. Nb5 Bc4 41. Rb7† Kf8 42. Nd6 Ba6 43. Rf7† Kg8 44. c7 Bb5 45. R×f6 1–0 In round 7, played on Wednesday, 7 June, Steinitz had the bye because of the late withdrawal of Burn. Meanwhile Lasker (who had a win by forfeit the same day due to Teichmann’s absence with eye trouble) “together with that irrepressible player Mr. Mortimer, were getting up an entertainment of their own at a separate board, which attracted a laughing crowd.”39 As Steinitz had no adjourned game to play off on Thursday, his next game was played on Friday.

603. H. N. Pillsbury–Steinitz London international (8), 9 June 1899 Ruy Lopez (C62) Bachmann (game 948); London book (game 36), pages 44–45. Steinitz handles his defense in a different but in no way superior manner; Pillsbury attacks vigorously and shows no mercy.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 d6 4. Nc3 Bd7 5. d4 e×d4 6. N×d4 g6 7. N×c6 b×c6 8. Bc4 Bg7 9. Qe2 Ne7 10. h4 h6 11. h5 g5 12. f4 g×f4 13. B×f4 Be6 14. B×e6 f×e6 15. e5 0–0 16. 0–0 d5 17. Rad1 Qe8 18. Na4 Rb8 19. Nc5 Nf5 20. g4 Qe7 21. g×f5 R×f5 22. Nd3 Qh4 23. Rf2 c5 24. Rh2 Qe7 25. Rg2 Kh7 26. Qg4 Qf7 27. N×c5 B×e5 28. Qg6† Q×g6 29. h×g6† Kg8 30. B×e5 R×e5 31. Nd7 1–0

13. Last Visits to England, 1895–1899 On the Saturday Steinitz was free again, scoring a point in Round 9 by forfeit against Teichmann who had now definitely withdrawn due to ill health, as stated for example in the report in the Standard of 12 June.

604. Steinitz–G. Maróczy London international (10), 12 June 1899 Dutch Defense (A85) Bachmann (game 949); London book (game 142), pages 164–165.

1. d4 e6 2. c4 f5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. e3 Bb4 5. Bd3 B×c3† 6. b×c3 0–0 7. Ne2 Nc6 8. c5 b6 9. Ba3 Ne7 10. 0–0 Rf7 11. f3 Bb7 12. c4 g5 13. e4 d6 14. c×d6 c×d6 15. d5 e×d5 16. c×d5 f×e4 17. f×e4 Ng6 18. Qd2 h6 19. Nd4 Qf8 20. Ne6 Qe7 21.  N×g5 h×g5 22.  Q×g5 N×d5 23.  Q×g6† Rg7 24. Q×d6!? Steinitz goes for the ending but his technique lets him down; 24. Qh5 maintains his winning middle game advantage. 24.  … Q×d6 25.  B×d6 Ne3 26.  Rf3 R×g2† 27. Kh1 Rg6 28. R×e3 R×d6 29. Rg1† Kh7 30. Rh3† Rh6 31.  Rhg3 Kh8 32.  Re1 Rh4 33.  Kg1 Rg8 34.  Ree3 Rc8 35. Rh3 Rg8† 36. Kf2 Rgg4 37. R×h4† R×h4 38. Kg3 Rh6 39. Bc4 Kg7 40. e5 Bc8 (see diagram)

wDbDwDwD 0wDwDwiw w0wDwDw4 DwDw)wDw wDBDwDwD DwDw$wIw PDwDwDw) DwDwDwDw

After 40. … Bc8

41. e6?! The London book correctly says that 41. h4 should win by not allowing the defending K to approach the e-pawn. At the end, the editor commented: “Steinitz has thrown away this game, which he had brought to a winning position by excellent play.” Most of the other notes are worthless. 41. … b5 42. Bd5 Kf6 43. h4 Ke7 44. Kg4 Kf6 45. h5 Rh8 46. Rf3† Ke5 47. Rf5† Kd6 48. Bb3 B×e6 49. B×e6 K×e6 50. R×b5 Rg8†? Tablebases show the rook ending can be drawn, but only with 50. … Kf6! 51. Kh4? 51. Kf4 was the last chance to force a win. 51. … Kf6 52. Ra5 Rg7 53. Ra3 Rc7 54. Rf3† Kg7! 55. Kg5 Rc6 56. a4 Ra6 57. Rf4 Ra5† 58.  Kg4 Kh6 59.  Re4 Rg5† 60.  Kf4 K×h5 61.  Ke3 Ra5 62. Kd3 Kg5 63. Kc3 Kf5 64. Rh4 Re5 65. a5 Re3† 66. Kd4 Ra3 67. Rh5† Ke6 68. Kc4 Kd6 69. Kb5 Re3 70. Ka6 Re7 ½–½

605. Steinitz–F. J. Lee London international (11), 13 June 1899 Queen’s Gambit Declined (D53) Bachmann (2d ed., game 980); London book (game 130),

339

pages 152–153. Just when it looked as if Steinitz was well on top, Lee found counterplay with 26. … f4! and White failed to react in the most critical way by capturing the pawn.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 0–0 6. B×f6 B×f6 7. c×d5 e×d5 8. Qb3 c6 9. Bd3 Re8 10. Nge2 Nd7 11. Qc2 Nf8 12. 0–0 g6 13. b4 a6 14. a4 Be7 15. b5 a×b5 16.  a×b5 R×a1 17.  R×a1 f5?! 18.  Ra8 Nd7 19.  Na4 Nb6 20. N×b6 Q×b6 21. Nc3 Bd7 22. Qa2 R×a8 23. Q×a8† Bd8 24. Na4 Qc7 25. b6 Qc8 26. Qa7 f4! 27. Nc5?! f×e3 28. N×b7 e×f2† 29. Kf1 Bf5 30. B×f5 Q×f5 31. N×d8 Qd3† 32. K×f2 Qd2† 33. Kf3 Qd3† 34. Kg4 Qf5† 35. Kg3 Qd3† 36. Kh4 Q×d4† 37. g4 Qf6† 38. Kg3 Qe5† ½–½

606. W. Cohn–Steinitz London international (12), 14 June 1899 Ruy Lopez (C62) Bachmann (2d ed., game 982); London book (game 33), page 42. Steinitz switched for the rest of the tournament to 5. … Nge7, a move he had played against Golmayo in an off-hand game in 1888. Cohn miscalculated at move 9 and was punished.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 d6 4. d4 Bd7 5. 0–0 Nge7 6. Nc3 Ng6 7. Be3 a6 8. Bc4 Bg4 9. h3? e×d4 10. h×g4 d×e3 11. f×e3 Nce5 12. Bb3 c6 13. Nd4 Be7 14. Nf5 0–0 15. Qe2 Qc7 16. Rad1 Rad8 17. g3 Bg5 18. Rd2 Rd7 19. Nd1 Ne7 20. Kg2 N×f5 21. g×f5 Re7 22. c3 Nd7 23. Bc2 Nf6 24. Nf2 Qb6 25. Ng4 Q×b2 26. R×d6 N×g4 27. f6 g×f6 28. Rd3 Ne5 29.  Rb1 Q×a2 30.  Rd4 Qe6 31.  Bd1 b5 32.  Qh5? Qa2† 33. Qe2 Q×b1 0–1 On the free day, Thursday, 15 June, the City of London Club entertained the players to a drive through the Bushy and Redmond Parks, followed by dinner at the Star and Garter Hotel in Richmond.

607. Steinitz–J. H. Blackburne London international (13), 16 June 1899 Queen’s Gambit Accepted (D20) Bachmann (game 951); London book (game 111), pages 129–130; Blackburne pulled off one of his best swindles against his old rival. For detailed notes see Blackburne (game 898), page 398.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 d×c4 3. e4 e5 4. d5 Nf6 5. Nc3 Bc5 6. B×c4 Ng4 7. Nh3 f5 8. Bg5 Qd6 9. e×f5 B×f5 10. 0–0 Qg6 11. Nb5 Bd6 12. Bh4 h6 13. Rc1 Nd7 14. Qe2 0–0 15. N×c7! Nb6 16.  N×a8 R×a8 17.  Rfd1 Nd7 18.  Bg3 Ndf6 19.  Bd3 e4 20. Bb1 Nh5 21. Qb5 N×h2! 22. B×h2 B×h3 23. Qf1 B×h2† 24. K×h2 Bg4 25. Rd4? Nf6?! (25. … Nf4 should draw but Blackburne wanted to win.) 26. d6?? Qh5† 27. Kg1 Be2 28. d7 Ng4 29. d8Q† R×d8 30. R×d8† Kf7 31. Rc7† Ke6 0–1

340

Steinitz in London

608. Steinitz–H. E. Bird London international (14), 17 June 1899 Dutch Defense (A84) Bachmann (2d ed., game 976); London book (game 147), pages 170–171. Steinitz made a kingside demonstration but exchanges led to an early peace. 18. Ba3 might have offered some winning chances.

1. d4 f5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e3 Nf6 5. Bd3 Nc6 6. Nge2 0–0 7. 0–0 B×c3 8. b×c3 b6 9. f3 Bb7 10. e4 f×e4 11. f×e4 Nh5 12.  g4 R×f1† 13.  Q×f1 Nf6 14.  g5 Nh5 15.  Qh3 g6 16. Ng3 N×g3 17. Q×g3 d6 18. Be3?! Qe7 19. c5 Rf8 20. c×d6 c×d6 21. Rf1 R×f1† 22. K×f1 Nd8 23. Ke2 Nf7 24. Kd2 Qd7 25. Kc1 Qa4 26. Kb2 Ba6 ½–½

609. Steinitz–C. Schlechter London international (15), 19 June 1899 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 950) wrongly says this game was played on the 12th. It was nominally round 7 but actually the last round of the first half of the tournament. London book (game 69), page 83.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d5 4. f×e5 N×e4 5. Nf3 Bb4 6. Ne2 Bg4 7. Ng3 Nc6 8. Bb5 0–0 9. B×c6 b×c6 10. Qe2 f5 11. c3 Be7 12. d3 Bh4 13. d×e4 f×e4 14. 0–0 e×f3 15. g×f3 Bh3 16. Rd1 Qd7 17. Rd4 Be7 18. Be3 Qe6 19. Bf2 Rf7 20. Rd3 c5 21. Rad1 Raf8 22. c4 d4 23. Qe4 c6 24. Rb3 Rf4 25. Qe2 h5 26. Kh1 h4 27. Nf1 R4f5 28. Re1 Qg6 29. Ng3 h×g3 30. B×g3 Qh5 31. f4 Bg4 32. Qg2 Rd8 33. Qe4 Rff8 34. Kg1 Bf5 35. Qg2 d3 36. Qd2 Rd4 37. Rb7 Bh4 38. e6 B×g3 39. h×g3 Be4 0–1

610. M. I. Chigorin–Steinitz London international (16), 20 June 1899 Ponziani Opening (C44) In volume 4 of his first edition (game 952, pages 348–349), Bachmann had only a diagram of the position after 17. … Nf6 and the subsequent moves. The complete game is in volume 2 of his second edition as game 972 on page 256. London book (game 12), pages 16–17.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. c3 d5 4. Qa4 d×e4 5. N×e5 Qd5 6. N×c6 b×c6 7. Bc4 Qd7 8. 0–0 Nf6 9. d3 e×d3 10. Rd1 Bd6 11. B×d3 0–0 12. h3 Qe6 13. Bf4 Rb8 14. B×d6 c×d6 15. Nd2 Nd5 16. Qh4 f5 17. Nb3 Nf6 18. Nd4 Qf7 19. b3 d5 20. N×c6 Rb6 21. Nd4 Ne4 22. f3 Rh6 23. Qf4 g5 24. Qc1 Qg7 25. f×e4 d×e4 26. Bc4† Kh8 27. Qe3 Re8 28. Nc2 f4 29. Q×e4 1–0

611. H. E. Bird–Steinitz London international (17), 21 June 1899 Bird’s Opening (A03) Bachmann (2d ed., game 975); London book (game 182), pages 211–212. Hoffer commented: “It is the worst game Bird played in this Tournament; but on the part

“The Veteran English Chess Player”: H. E. Bird at the London 1899 tournament. (From Black and White, XVII [24 June 1899] page 775.)

of Steinitz it is an instructive example of how to take immediate and decisive advantage of indifferent moves by an opponent.”

1. f4 d5 2. e3 e6 3. Nf3 Bd6 4. b3 Qe7 5. Bb2 f6 6. Nc3 a6 7. Bd3 b5 8. Qe2 c5 9. Qf2 c4 10. Be2 Nc6 11. 0–0 Nh6 12.  Rae1 0–0 13.  Bd1 Rb8 14.  Nd4 N×d4 15.  e×d4 Qa7 16. Ne2 a5 17. Ng3 a4 18. b×c4 a3 19. Bc3 b×c4 20. Be2 Qa4 21. f5 e×f5 22. Bf3 Qc6 23. h3 Nf7 24. Rb1 Be6 25. Rfe1 Ng5 26. Nf1 Ne4 27. B×e4 f×e4 28. R×b8 R×b8 29. Ne3 Bc7 30. g4 Qd6 31. Kh1 g6 32. Rg1 Kf7 33. g5 B×h3 34. Q×f6† Q×f6 35. g×f6 Be6 36. Rf1 Bd8 37. Kg2 Rb5 38. d3 c×d3 39. c×d3 e×d3 40. Rd1 B×f6 41. R×d3 h5 42. Kf3 g5 43. Be1 Rb1 44. Bg3 Be7 0–1

612. F. J. Lee–Steinitz London international (18), 23 June 1899 Queen’s Pawn Game (D00) Bachmann (2d ed., game 979); London book (game 164), pages 190–191. The Steinitz of old would have won, not lost, this game.

1. d4 d5 2. e3 e6 3. Bd3 c5 4. c3 Nc6 5. f4 Bd6 6. Nf3 Nh6 7. 0–0 Qc7 8. Ne5 g6 9. Nd2 f6 10. N×c6 b×c6 11. Nf3 Nf7 12. Qa4 Bd7 13. Bd2 Rb8 14. Qc2 c4 15. Be2 0–0 16. b4 e5 17. Nh4 Kg7 18. g4 e×f4 19. e×f4 Rbe8 20. Rae1 Re4 21. Ng2 f5 22. g×f5 B×f5 23. Qd1 Nd8 24. Bg4 Qf7 25. Ne3 B×g4 26. N×g4 Qf5 27. R×e4 Q×e4 28. Re1 Qf5 29. Ne5 Ne6

13. Last Visits to England, 1895–1899 30. Rf1 Qe4 31. Re1 Qf5 32. Rf1 g5 33. Qb1 B×e5?! Black should probably win the ending after Hoffer’s 33. … Q×b1† 34. R×b1 g×f4 35. N×c6 Ng5. The chosen continuation retains a small advantage which Steinitz fritters away. 34.  f×e5 Q×f1† 35. Q×f1 R×f1† 36. K×f1 Kg6 37. Kg2 Kf5 38. Kf3 Nf8 39. h3 a6 40. Be1 Ng6 41. Bg3 h5 42. a3 Nf8 43. Be1 Ne6 44. Bd2 Nc7 45. a4 Ne6 46. Bc1 Nc7 47. Bd2 g4†?! This move does not lose but was based on a fatal miscalculation. 48. h×g4† h×g4† 49. Kg3 (see diagram)

wDwDwDwD DwhwDwDw pDpDwDwD DwDp)kDw P)p)wDpD Dw)wDwIw wDwGwDwD DwDwDwDw

341

Bachmann (2d ed., game 981); London book (game 70), page 84.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d5 4. f×e5 For once Steinitz plays the best move instead of his beloved 4. d3. 4. … N×e4 5. Nf3 Bb4?! 6. Qe2 B×c3 7. b×c3 0–0 8. c4 Bg4 9. Rb1 b6 10. c×d5 Q×d5 11. Rb4 Bf5 12. Nh4? White is close to lost after this for a while, whereas 12. Rd4! Q×a2 13. R×e4 Qb1 14. Kd1 is close to winning. 12. … g6 13. N×f5 g×f5 14. d3 Qa5 15. Bd2 N×d2 16. Q×d2 Q×e5† 17. Be2 Nc6 18. d4 Qd6 19. Rc4 Rad8 20. c3 b5 21. Rc5 b4 22. d5 Q×c5 ½–½ The London book says: “White draws by perpetual check…. This was a ‘skittle’ game.” Bachmann, Pickard and ChessBase add 23. Qg5† which was not played; Hooper rightly omitted it.

After 49. Kg3

49. … Ke4?? Sensible moves like 49. … Ne6 should draw. 50. K×g4 Kd3 51. Be1 Ke2 52. Bh4 Kd3 53. Bd8 Ne6 54. Ba5 Ke4 At move 49 Steinitz must have overlooked that 54. … K×c3 loses to 55. b5† K×d4 56. b×a6 c3 57. a7 c2 58. Bd2 Nc7 59. e6. 55. Bb6 Nf8 56. Kg5 Nd7 57. e6 N×b6 58. e7 N×a4 59. e8Q† Kd3 60. Q×c6 N×c3 61. Q×a6 K×d4 62. b5 Ne4† 63. Kf4 Nc5 64. Qf6† Kd3 65. Qf5† Kc3 66. Q×d5 Kb4 67. b6 c3 68. Qd4† 1–0

613. Steinitz–J. W. Showalter London international (19), 24 June 1899 French Defense (C02) Bachmann (2d ed., game 973); London book (game 88), page 104. Grandmaster Sveshnikov, a great expert on the Advance Variation, has written: “White could have gained an edge by 8. d×c5 B×c5 9. b4 but, having neglected this possibility, for the entire game he had to struggle for equality.”40

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. e5 c5 4. c3 Nc6 5. Nf3 Qb6 6. Be2 Bd7 7. 0–0 Rc8 8. b3?! c×d4 9. c×d4 Nge7 10. Na3 Nf5 11. Nc2 Nb4 12. Ne3 N×e3 13. f×e3 Be7 14. Ne1 0–0 15. a3 Nc6 16. b4 f6 17. e×f6 B×f6 18. Nf3 Ne7 19. Bd2 Bb5 20. B×b5 Q×b5 21. a4 Qd3 22. Qb1 Q×b1 23. Ra×b1 Rc2 24. Rbc1 Rfc8 25. R×c2 R×c2 26. Rc1 R×c1† 27. B×c1 Nc8 28. Kf2 Nb6 29. a5 Nc4 30. Nd2 N×d2 31. B×d2 a6 32. Ke2 Kf7 33. Kd3 Ke7 34. e4 d×e4† 35. K×e4 Kd6 36. Kd3 Kd5 37. Bc3 h5 38. h3 Be7 39. Be1 Bd6 40. g4 h×g4 41. h×g4 Be7 42. Bd2 Bd8 43. Be1 Bf6 44. Bf2 Be7 45. Be1 Bf6 46. Bf2 Bd8 47. Be1 g6 48. Bd2 Bh4 49. Bh6 Bf6 50. Be3 Bd8 51. Bd2 ½–½

615. C. Schlechter–Steinitz London international (21), 27 June 1899 Ruy Lopez (C62) Bachmann (game 953); London book (game 30), page 39.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 d6 4. d4 Bd7 5. Nc3 Nge7 6. Bc4 h6 7. h3 Ng6 8. Be3 Nf4 9. B×f4 e×f4 10. Qd2 g5 11. h4 Bg7 12. h×g5 h×g5 13. R×h8† B×h8 14. 0–0–0 Kf8 15. Rh1 Bg7 16. Rh5 f6 17. Qe1 Be8 18. Rh7 Bf7 19. B×f7 K×f7 20. d5 Kg8 21. R×g7† K×g7 22. d×c6 b×c6 23. Nd4 Qd7 24. Nf5† Kf7 25. Qh1 Rf8 26. Qh5† Ke6 27. Ne2 c5 28. g3 f×g3 29. Ne×g3 Ke5 30. Qh2 Ke6 31. Qh6 Rf7 32. Qh3 Ke5 33. Nh5 d5 34. Qc3† d4 35. Q×c5† K×e4 36. N×d4 g4 37. Nb3 Qd6? A blunder but checkmate is forced. Bachmann and Pickard give an incorrect finish 37. … Qd5 38. Nd2† Ke5 39. Nc4† Ke4 40. Ng3† 1–0; Hooper and ChessBase follow London book. 38. Nd2† 1–0.

616. Steinitz–S. Tinsley London international (22), 28 June 1899 French Defense (C02) Bachmann (2d ed., game 978); London book (game 89), page 105. Tinsley must have had a tactical hallucination because he sacrificed unsoundly.

1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. e5 c5 4. c3 Nc6 5. Nf3 f6 6. e×f6 N×f6 7. Bd3 Bd6 8. 0–0 0–0 9. Re1 Bd7 10. Nbd2 c×d4 11. c×d4 h6 12. Nb3 Ng4 13. Be3 Qf6 14. Bc2 Nb4 15. Bb1 Rac8 16. a3 B×h2†?? 17. N×h2 N×e3 18. f×e3 Qf2† 19. Kh1 Nc2 20. Re2 N×e3 21. Qd3 1–0 A banquet was held on the rest day, Thursday, 29 June, in Café Monico but not all the masters attended. Steinitz was absent, as were Blackburne, Janowsky, Mason, and Tinsley— the latter perhaps because he had to write his reports for The Times.

614. Steinitz–W. Cohn

617. J. H. Blackburne–Steinitz

London international (20), 26 June 1899 Vienna Game (C29)

London international (23), 30 June 1899 London System (D02)

342

Steinitz in London

Bachmann (game 954); London book (game 162), pages 188–189, commenting with surprise that Steinitz was more proud of this win than the following game. It is understandable because Blackburne was much the more formidable opponent of the two. For detailed notes see Blackburne (game 908), page 401.

1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. Bf4 c5 4. e3 Nc6 5. c3 Qb6 6. Qc1 Bf5 7. d×c5 Q×c5 8. Nbd2 Rc8 9. Nb3 Qb6 10. Nbd4 Be4 11. N×c6 b×c6 12. Nd2 Bf5 13. Be2 Nd7 14. 0–0 e5 15. Bg3 h5 16. h3 g5 17. e4 Be6 18. b4 g4 19. h4 Bh6 20. a4 d×e4 21. a5 Qc7 22. Qc2 f5 23. Nc4 Bd5 24. Rfd1 f4 25. Bh2 Nf6 26. g3 0–0 27. g×f4 e×f4 28. Bf1 Qg7 29. Kh1 e3† 30. R×d5 c×d5 31. Nd6 Ne4 32. N×e4 d×e4 33. f×e3 g3 34. Bh3 R×c3 35. Qa2† Kh8 36. Rg1 Qf6 (adjourned here) 37. Rd1 g×h2 38. b5 R×e3 39. b6 a×b6 40. a6 f3 41. a7 f2 42. Rf1 Re1 43. Qc4 e3 44. Qe4 e2 45. a8Q R×f1† 46. K×h2 Qd6† 0–1 In The Field on 1 July, Hoffer wrote: We have hardly witnessed a tournament in all our experience in which the players have had such an easy time of it. The games being finished every day, they have two clear days for rest weekly; they have almost the whole evening to themselves, as the games are generally concluded at an early hour, with the exception of one or two which may last till 9:30 or at the utmost ten o’clock. Nor is there any fatigue discernible in the games.

618. Steinitz–H. N. Pillsbury London international (24), 3 July 1899 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 956); London book (game 67), pages 80–81. The Morning Post, 4 July, said: Pillsbury had rather an easy task, as it turned out, in beating Steinitz, who played a variation of the Vienna opening of which his opponent had had previous experience in a well-remembered consultation game, and the ex-champion drifted into such a bad position that his prospect very soon became hopeless.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d5 4. d3 d4 5. Nce2 Nc6 6. Nf3 Bd6 7. c3 Bg4 8. f×e5 B×e5 9. N×e5 N×e5 10. Qa4† c6 11. N×d4 Nh5 12. Qc2 c5 13. Nf5 B×f5 14. e×f5 0–0 15. Kf2 Qd7 16. Kg1 Q×f5 17. Be3 c4 18. Qf2 Q×f2† 19. K×f2 Rfe8 20. Bd4 N×d3† 21. B×d3 c×d3 22. Rhe1 Nf4 23. R×e8† R×e8 24. Re1 R×e1 25. K×e1 N×g2† 26. Kd2 a6 27. c4 Nh4 28. K×d3 Nf3 29. Bc3 f6 30. Ke4 N×h2 31. b4 Kf7 32. a4 Ke6 33. b5 Ng4 34. a5 Kd7 35. Bd4 h5 36. Kf5 Ne5 37. b×a6 b×a6 38. Bf2 g6† 39. K×f6 Ng4† 40. K×g6 N×f2 41. K×h5 Kc6 42. Kg5 Kc5 43. Kf4 K×c4 44. Ke3 Nd3 45. Kd2 Nb4 46. Kc1 Kb3 0–1

619. Steinitz–J. Mason London international (25), 4 July 1899 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (2d ed., game 974); London book (game 68), pages 81–82. The Morning Post, 5 July, said:

A Vienna Game played by Steinitz against Mason resulted in the lastnamed obtaining the better position for the end game, and this he utilised to so much effect that he was eventually able to Queen a pawn and win, notwithstanding that Steinitz’s patient resistance was continued for a considerable time after the interval.

The Field of 8 July gives a different picture. Hoffer wrote: “Steinitz succeeded in getting an even ending. Mason proposed a draw repeatedly. Steinitz declined the offer and eventually lost the game.” Steinitz’s personal antipathy to Mason (going back to the events of 1882) and the fact that Steinitz had won their last three games possibly had a lot to do with Steinitz’s unwillingness to sign a peace treaty. 1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d5 4. d3 d4 5. Nce2 Nc6 6. Nf3 e×f4 7. B×f4 Bg4 8. Ng3 Nh5 9. N×h5 B×h5 10. Be2 Bb4† 11. Nd2 B×e2 12. Q×e2 B×d2† 13. Q×d2 0–0 14. 0–0 f5 15. Rae1 Qd7 16. Bg3 f×e4 17. R×f8† R×f8 18. R×e4 Qf7 19. h3 Q×a2 20. b3 Qa3 21. Qg5 h6 22. Qg6 Qc5 23. B×c7 Qf5 24. Qg3 Qf1† 25. Kh2 Qf2 26. Qg6 Qf5 27. Qg3 Qf2 28.  Qg4 Qf5 29.  Qe2 Qf2 30.  Qg4 Qf5 31.  Rf4 Q×g4 32. R×f8† K×f8 33. Bd6† Kf7 34. h×g4 (see diagram)

After 34. h×g4

wDwDwDwD 0pDwDk0w wDnGwDw0 DwDwDwDw wDw0wDPD DPDPDwDw wDPDwDPI DwDwDwDw

34. … Ke6 35. Bf8 Kf7 36. Ba3 b5 37. Bc5 a5 38. Kg3 Ke6 39. Kf2 Kd5 40. Bf8 Ne5 41. Ke2 N×g4 42. B×g7 b4 43. g3 h5 44. Bf8 Ne3 45. Be7 Kc6 46. Kf3 N×c2 47. Ke4 Kb5 48. Kf5 a4 49. Bg5 Ne3† 50. Ke4 a×b3 51. K×d4 Nc2† 0–1

620. Steinitz–E. Lasker London international (26), 5 July 1899 Vienna Game (C29) Bachmann (game 957); London book (game 66), pages 79– 80. This game ensured Lasker first prize. Bachmann says it won Lasker the first beauty prize of 200 marks, but as mentioned in the introduction to the tournament, the prize was a gold medal not cash. Hoffer’s comment on Steinitz’s opening was “Judging by Steinitz’s result with the Vienna, it will have to be abandoned with the continuation 3. P to KB4, and only played with Paulsen’s King’s Fianchetto variation.” Steinitz had had success with 4. d3 early in his career and revived it in 1898 but it is indeed not considered dangerous to Black. To evade any preparation, Lasker avoided the fourth move chosen by Pillsbury and Mason.

13. Last Visits to England, 1895–1899

343

Above, left: Blackburne, the only British prize-winner at the London 1899 tournament. Above, right: Emanuel Lasker, who dominated the London 1899 tournament. Left: Steinitz at the London 1899 tournament. (All three sketches are from the Pall Mall Gazette, 14 July 1899.)

621. G. Maróczy–Steinitz London international (27), 7 July 1899 Ruy Lopez (C62) Bachmann (game 958); London book (game 31), page 40. Steinitz never equalized but 18. … Qf6 might have given him a playable position; capturing the f-pawn was a blunder.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 d6 4. d4 Bd7 5. Nc3 Nge7 6. Bc4 Na5 7. Be2 Ng6 8. h3 Nc6 9. Be3 Be7 10. Qd2 0–0 11. d5 Nb8 12. g4 Nh4 13. N×h4 B×h4 14. 0–0–0 a5 15. Rdg1 f6 16. g5 f×g5 17. B×g5 B×g5 18. R×g5 R×f2?? 19. Rhg1 Rf7 20. Bh5 Re7 21. Qg2 Qf8 22. Rf1 Na6 23. R×f8† R×f8 24. Rg3 Nc5 25. Rf3 R×f3 26. B×f3 b5 27. Ne2 b4 28. b3 Kf8 29. Kd2 Ke8 30. Ke3 Kd8 31. Qg5 h6 32. Qh4 Ke8 33. Bh5† Kf8 34.  Bg6 Be8 35.  B×e8 K×e8 36.  Ng3 Nd7 37.  Nf5 Rf7 38. Qh5 Kf8 39. Qg6 Nf6 40. N×g7 N×d5† 41. e×d5 R×g7 42. Q×h6 Kg8 43. Qe6† Kh7 44. Ke4 1–0 1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. f4 d5 4. d3 Nc6 5. f×e5 N×e5 6. d4 Ng6 7. e×d5 N×d5 8. N×d5 Q×d5 9. Nf3 Bg4 10. Be2 0–0–0 11. c3 Bd6 12. 0–0 Rhe8 13. h3 Bd7 14. Ng5 Nh4 15. Nf3 N×g2 16. K×g2 B×h3† 17. Kf2 f6 18. Rg1 g5 19. B×g5 f×g5 20. R×g5 Qe6 21. Qd3 Bf4 22. Rh1 B×g5 23. N×g5 Qf6† 24. Bf3 Bf5 25. N×h7 Qg6 26. Qb5 c6 27. Qa5 Re7 28. Rh5 Bg4 29. Rg5 Qc2† 30. Kg3 B×f3 0–1

Steinitz was exhausted by the end of this long tournament, but with two playing days to go, he only had one more opponent to meet. On Saturday, 8 July, the nominal 14th round (actual 28th round) was drawn to be played, giving Steinitz a rest. The reason there were 15 rounds in the first half but only 14 in the second half was because no bye was required in the round where Teichmann would have been due to play Burn.

344

Steinitz in London

The start of the last round on Monday, 10 July was delayed because both Steinitz and Mason, for some unknown reason, refused to be included in a group photograph taken before play began. Papers did not report why they objected.41 After four successive losses, Steinitz was able to end his tournament career with a lucky victory because Janowski made an impetuous sacrifice which cost him £50 in prize money.

622. D. Janowski–Steinitz London international (29), 10 July 1899 Ruy Lopez (C62) Bachmann (game 959); London book (game 32), pages 41–42.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 d6 Steinitz, dogmatic to his last competitive game, persisted in playing this inferior defense which now bears his name. This was the eighth time he played it in this tournament. 4. d4 Bd7 5. Nc3 Nge7 6. Bc4 h6 7. Be3 Ng6 8. Qd2 Bg4 9. 0–0–0 B×f3 10. g×f3 e×d4 11. B×d4 Nge5 12. Be2 N×d4 13. Q×d4 c6 14. f4 Nd7 15. Bg4 Nc5 16. Rhg1 Qc7 17. Bh3 Ne6 18. B×e6 f×e6 19. Ne2 Qa5 (see diagram)

rDwDkgw4 0pDwDw0w wDp0pDw0 1wDwDwDw wDw!P)wD DwDwDwDw P)PDN)w) DwIRDw$w

After 19. … Qa5

20. R×g7?! The Morning Post, 11 July 1899, commented: “Janowski only needed to draw his game with Steinitz in order to win the second prize, but being apparently not content with such a conclusion, he ventured to sacrifice the exchange for a Pawn, and gaining no advantage in position from this manoeuvre he was at the mercy of his adversary in the end-game, which Steinitz quickly brought about by exchanging pieces.” 20. … B×g7 21. Q×g7 0–0–0 22. a3 e5 23. f5 Qc5 24. Rf1 Qc4 25. Qg4 Rhg8 26. Qf3 d5 27. e×d5 Q×d5 28. Q×d5 R×d5 29. Ng3 Rg4 30. f3 Rf4 31. b3 b5 32. Rf2 Kd7 33. Kb2 Ke7 34.  Kc1 Kf7 35.  Rf1 Rh4 36.  Rf2 Kf6 37.  Nf1 Rd7 38. Ne3 h5 39. Rg2 Rg7 40. Rd2 Rd4 41. Rf2 Rg1† 42. Kb2 Re1 43. Ng2 Red1 44. Kc3 a5 45. Ne3 R1d2 46. Rf1 Re2 47. Nd1 b4† 48. a×b4 a×b4† 49. Kb2 Rdd2 50. Kb1 R×c2 51. h4 Rcd2 52. Kc1 Rd3 0–1 Thus Steinitz for the first time in his career finished out of the prize list in a tournament, although there were nine to be won among 15 competitors. Guest wrote in an article published after the death of Steinitz the following year that he:

… took his defeats like a man, with resignation and dignity, occasionally going over positions and explaining to sympathetic onlookers how, in his former days, he would have forestalled combinations, or grasped opportunities that had presented themselves and been neglected.42

F. G. Naumann presented the prizes on 11 July. The London book includes a crosstable on page xxxiii and lists who won what. The program on page xvi says that each non–prize-winner would receive £2 consolation money for any wins against one of the first three prize-winners and £1 for other games won, other than by default. It says consolation money was awarded as follows: Cohn £8, Bird and Lee £5 each, and Tinsley £4. Steinitz should have won £2 for his victory over Janowski and £1 each for his other six wins, totaling £8, and probably he did receive this. There was also a secondary single-round tournament, which Frank Marshall won, earning £70 and a ladies’ gold pendant. The omission of Steinitz from the printed prize list was either an oversight by the editors or a reaction to his refusal to be included in the group photograph. There is one image of him from the tournament. An article about the winner, Lasker, in the Pall Mall Gazette on Friday, 14 July (page 8), was accompanied by sketches of the players, including Steinitz with a hat and (apparently) a cigarette. One further game by Steinitz is on record, played at a simultaneous display in a Jewish club in London. It is not included in Bachmann, Pickard or other collections of Steinitz games. The Jewish Chronicle of 28 July 1899 noted that “Mr. Steinitz arranged to play simultaneous chess with the Maccabeans last night at the St. James’ Hall.”43 Steinitz’s visit to that club was reported in the following issue, which included an interview (mentioned in Chapter 1), conducted by an anonymous correspondent a few days after Steinitz visited it.44 At the simul, Steinitz won 12 of 13 games and drew with the attorney Herbert Levi Jacobs (1863–1950), probably the leading Jewish amateur player in England at the time (and indeed for many years). The report also said that “Mr. Steinitz, the veteran chess player, has signified his intention of remaining in England till September.”

623. Steinitz–H. L. Jacobs Maccabean Chess Club simul, London, 27 July 1899 Scandinavian Defense transposing to Caro-Kann Defense (B14) This was perhaps Steinitz’s last published game over the board and certainly one of his last in England. It was first published, without notes, in the Jewish Chronicle on 4 August 1899 and reprinted with notes by Hoffer in The Field, 5 August 1899. A modern Caro-Kann opening variation arose via the Scandinavian Defense, although the position after White’s fifth move was novel at the time. It also has affinities with the Grünfeld Defense (ECO D94).

1. e4 d5 2. e×d5 Nf6 3. c4 c6 4. d4 c×d5 5. Nc3 g6 6. Nf3 Bg7 This position arose by a different move order in Vergani–

13. Last Visits to England, 1895–1899 London 1899 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Lasker, Emanuel Janowski, Dawid M. Maróczy, Géza Pillsbury, Harry N. Schlechter, Carl Blackburne, Joseph H. Chigorin, Mikhail I. Showalter, Jackson W. Mason, James Cohn, Wilhelm Steinitz, William Lee, Francis J. Bird, Henry E. Tinsley, Samuel Teichmann, Richard

1

2

3

• 0½ ½0 ½0 ½0 10 00 00 0½ 0½ ½0 00 00 00 –

1½ • 10 01 00 0½ 00 ½0 11 00 01 00 10 0½ –

½1 01 • ½½ ½½ ½0 10 0½ 01 00 ½0 ½0 0½ 00 –

4

5

½1 ½1 10 11 ½½ ½½ • ½1 ½0 • 11 0½ 01 01 ½½ ½0 00 ½0 00 1½ 00 00 00 00 0½ 00 00 00 ½ –

6 01 1½ ½1 00 1½ • ½1 10 0½ 10 01 0½ 00 00 ½

7

8

9

345

10

11

12

11 11 1½ 1½ 11 ½1 00 11 01 1½ 10 11 10 ½½ 11 11 10 ½1 ½1 0½ ½0 01 1½ 01 • 1½ 1½ 01 0½ • 0½ 0½ 0½ 1½ • 00 10 1½ 11 • ½0 0½ 10 1½ 01 00 11 0½ 00 00 00 01 01 10 ½0 11 0 – – –

½1 10 ½1 11 11 10 ½1 1½ 01 0½ • 1½ ½0 00 –

11 11 ½1 11 11 1½ 10 11 00 1½ ½0 • ½0 ½½ –

13

14

15 Pts

11 11 + 01 1½ + 1½ 11 + 1 ½ 11 ½ 11 11 + 11 11 ½ 11 10 1 11 01 + 11 ½1 + 10 00 + ½1 11 + ½1 ½½ + • 11 + 00 • 0 – 1 •

22½ 18 18 18 17 15½ 15 12½ 12 11½ 11½ 9½ 7 6 2

Teichmann withdrew after a few rounds. Otherwise every competitor played all the others twice.

Walbrodt, Hastings 1895, where 7. Bd3 was played. 7. c×d5 Hoffer wrote: “We should give the preference to 7. c5 because in the text Black gets an attack upon the isolated QP.” 7. … N×d5 8. Qb3 Be6 9. Bc4 “9 Q×b7 would probably be answered by 9. … Nb6 10. Bb5† Kf8 and White’s Queen would be in an uncomfortable position.” 9. … N×c3 10. B×e6 “The alternative would have been simply 10. b×c3 although the text move is tempting, since White strengthens his isolated QP, and leaves Black with a double pawn.” The Field had a misprint “10. P takes P.” 10. … f×e6 11. b×c3 Qd5 12. c4 “White having to weaken his pawns, the QP is again difficult to defend.” 12. … Qd7 13. 0–0 0–0 14. Bb2 Nc6 15. Rad1 Rac8 16. c5 Qd5 17. Rfe1 Rf6 18. Re3 “18 Q×d5 e×d5 19. Ng5 might be considered here.” 18. … Q×b3 19. a×b3 Rf4 20. R×e6 Rd8 21. Kf1 Rd7 22. Bc1 Rf8 23. Be3 Rfd8 24. Re4 e5 “A good move, which gets Black out of all difficulties, if any.” 25. Bg5 Rc8 26. d5 Nd4 “Again good. But although Mr. Jacobs is well known as a resourceful player in embarrassing situations, he would not have escaped unscathed had his opponent not been handicapped by playing twelve more games at the same time.” 27. N×e5 B×e5 28. R×e5 N×b3 29. d6 N×c5 30. Be3 b6 ½–½ The Jewish Chronicle and The Field both say here “Mr. Steinitz offered a draw, which was accepted.” Guest reported in the I.S.D.N. on 7 October that Steinitz was returning home: In common with many other chess players, I am sorry that Mr. Steinitz has determined to take his departure for New York just as the London season has commenced. It was, however, a satisfaction to observe on wishing him “farewell,” that his four months’ stay in this country has benefited him so much that he is looking better now than he has done for some years. The veteran is still full of fight, and he contemplates on his return to America arranging meetings with several prominent players.45

Herbert Levi Jacobs, an eminent barrister, was one of Steinitz’s opponents in a simultaneous exhibition at the Jewish Chess Club in April 1877, and 22 years later they met again in Steinitz’s very last published game in Europe. (From The ChessMonthly, XVI [February 1895].)

He said that Steinitz intending competing in the Paris tournament next year “if that interesting but hypothetical competition comes about.” It did, but he did not. Steinitz died in New York on the 12th of August 1900. In the aforementioned

346

Steinitz in London

article published a few months later, Guest had some further recollections of and opinions about Steinitz. The Steinitz of 1862 was full of resolution and vitality. His position in the tournament of that year was by no means in accordance with his conception, never particularly modest, of his own capacity…. Steinitz had not the gift of making himself popular, even in his youth. His character was independent and aggressive, and he loved a fight, in which it must be said he always bore himself sturdily…. In tournaments his idiosyncracies frequently led to his defeat, for meeting a different player every day … he had no opportunity of making up lost ground; but in matches they were of little account, for Steinitz could afford to give away a game or two at the beginning of these encounters in order to obtain the measure of his opponent. Consequently it was in match-play that his greatest successes were achieved…. There would have been no progress in any art had there been no devotees, and Steinitz, I maintain, was an artist. Perhaps, from some points of view, he may even be regarded as a benefactor of the human race.

The young Bobby Fischer wrote an article about some of the great players of the past in which he said the following: Steinitz was the first chessplayer to be called world champion, a title he claimed after his 1865 [sic] match with Anderssen. He is the socalled father of the modern school of chess: before him, the King was considered a weak piece, and players set out to attack the King directly. Steinitz claimed that the King was well able to take care of itself, and ought not to be attacked until one had some other positional advantage. Pawns ought to be left back, Steinitz claimed, since they can only move forward and can’t retreat to protect the same ground again. Steinitz was a year older than Morphy. Those two great players met only once, in New Orleans, according to reports, and unfortunately they neither played chess nor discussed it. Steinitz’s book knowledge didn’t compare with Morphy’s, and—where Morphy was usually content to play a book line in the opening—Steinitz was always looking for some completely original line. He was a man of great intellect—an intellect he often used wrongly. He understood more about the use of squares than did Morphy,

and contributed a great deal more to chess theory. It is also possible that Morphy might have had his own theories but they were never put in writing. Rather than venture a beautiful combination, Steinitz would often crudely win a piece by pinning it. Unlike many other players—notably Morphy—Steinitz didn’t mind getting himself into cramped quarters if he thought that his position was essentially sound.46

Another world champion, Vladimir Kramnik, expressed his views on Steinitz, and some of his other predecessors, as follows in a 2010 interview with Russian chess journalist Vladimir Barsky. Steinitz was the first to realise that chess, despite being a complicated game, obeys some common principles. Up to his time chess players understood only individual themes. For instance, Philidor put forward and upheld the following opinion: “Pawns are the soul of chess…. I have got patchy impressions of Steinitz and the other chess players of the 19th century. That’s why I would like to share my thoughts about their games. I carefully studied the matches played by Steinitz against Chigorin and Lasker….” Steinitz took a comprehensive approach to chess and started to form a common basis for individual conclusions. However, sometimes he made decisions that did not quite conform to his own rules. Steinitz was the first to discover certain ideas but was still far from getting down to the bedrock. He did not seem to understand dynamics very well; dynamics was his weak spot. In his matches against Chigorin he regularly got into difficult positions with Black. For instance, he would capture the pawn in the Evans Gambit and then transfer all his pieces to the 8th rank…. Steinitz was strong in practice. He had deep thoughts and imaginative ideas. For instance, he stated that the King was a strong piece, able to defend itself. This idea is really imaginative and even true in some cases but it is not a part of the classical basis of the game. Up to his time people had just been playing chess, Steinitz began to study it. But as often happens the first time is just a try. With due respect to the first World Champion, I can’t say he was the founder of a chess theory. He was an experimenter and pointed out that chess obeys laws that should be considered.47

Appendix I: Match and Tournament Record Not including informal games, exhibitions, consultation games, or any games played outside England after the summer of 1882.

Head-to-Head Formal Matches Date 1862 1862/3 1863 1863/4 1865/6 1866 1866 1867 1867 1869 1870 1872 1873 1876 1882

Opponent Dubois Blackburne Deacon V. Green de Vere Anderssen Bird G. B. Fraser G. B. Fraser Blackburne Blackburne Zukertort Blackburne Blackburne Winawer

Played 9 10 7 9 12 14 17 9 6 1 2 12 2 7 2

Won 5 7 5 7 3 8 7 7 3 1 1 7 2 7 1

Lost 3 1 1 1 7 6 5 1 1 0 0 1 0 0 1

Drawn 1 2 1 1 2 0 5 1 2 0 1 4 0 0 0

Comment

7 up but Deacon resigned match S. gave odds of pawn and move Unfinished; Bird conceded stakes S. gave odds of pawn and move Prize match for first win Prize match for first win Vienna Congress play-off Vienna Congress play-off (tie)

N.B.: Informal series of games are not included. There is no evidence for an alleged formal match against Mongredien or a longer match against Blackburne in 1870. Steinitz did play three matches giving odds of a knight, about which information is incomplete—against Edward Healey in 1864 (see page 100) and Charles Bodé in 1874 (see pages 236–237).

International Tournaments (Games Actually Played) The play-offs in both Vienna tournaments are not included here: see the match list above. Official scores may vary because of the replaying of draws, forfeits, and games canceled for reasons explained in the main text. Steinitz had one win by forfeit in each of London 1862, London 1872, London 1883, and London 1899; he had two each at Paris 1867 and Vienna 1882. Date 1862 1865 1867 1867

Tournament London International Dublin (B.C.A.) Paris Dundee (B.C.A.)

Won 7 4 16 7

Lost 5 0 3 2

347

Drawn 3 1 3 0

Comments Draws replayed Draws replayed Draws scored zero Draws scored half

348

Appendix II. Dubious and Spurious Games Date 1870 1872 1873 1882 1883 1895 1899

Tournament Baden-Baden London Grand Tourney Vienna Vienna London Hastings London

Won 11 6 18 18 18 11 7

Lost 4 0 2 6 7 6 12

Drawn 3 0 5 8 7 4 7

Comments Draws scored half Draws replayed Mini-matches (best of 3) Draws scored half Draws replayed twice Draws scored half Draws scored half

Minor Tournaments (Handicaps on Knock-out System) Games were played on level terms unless otherwise stated.

London B. C. A. Handicap tournament 1866 First prize. Steinitz–de Vere +2 –0 =2; Steinitz–MacDonnell +2 –0 =0; Steinitz–Mocatta +2 –0 =1 (Steinitz gave odds of pawn and move); Steinitz–S. J. Green, +2 –0 =0 (Steinitz gave odds of pawn and two moves).

Dundee Handicap tournament 1867 Steinitz–Keating +1 –0 =0 (Steinitz gave odds of a knight); Steinitz–Scott +1 –0 =1 (Steinitz gave odds of a knight); Steinitz–J. Fraser (Steinitz gave odds of pawn and move): officially no result because of a dispute, first prize shared.

London B. C. A. Handicap tournament 1868/1869 First prize. Steinitz–Gossip +1 –0 =0 (Steinitz gave odds of the move); Steinitz–W. L. Franklin +1 –0 = 0 (Steinitz gave odds of pawn and two moves); Steinitz–Haggard, +1 –0 = 0 (Steinitz gave odds of a knight);

FINAL POOL: Steinitz–A. Mongredien, Jr. +1 –0 = 0 (Steinitz gave odds of a knight); Steinitz–Wisker, +1 –0 =0 (Steinitz gave odds of the move).

City of London Chess Club Handicap tournament 1871/1872 First prize. Steinitz–Lawson [or Lowson?] +2 –0 =0 (Steinitz gave odds of a rook); Steinitz–S. Swyer +2 –0 =0 (Steinitz gave odds of a knight); Steinitz–Watson +2 –0 =0 (Steinitz gave odds of a knight); Steinitz–Potter +2 –0 =0. FINAL POOL: Steinitz–Thomson +2 –0 =0 (Steinitz gave odds of pawn and move); Steinitz–Keates +2 –0 =0 (Steinitz gave odds of pawn and two moves).

London B. C. A. Handicap tournament 1872 Steinitz–Fenton +1 –0 =0 (S. gave odds of pawn and move); Steinitz–Zukertort +0 –1 =2 (Steinitz eliminated).

Appendix II: Dubious and Spurious Games This appendix covers, for the record, several cases of games that have been said at one time or another to have been played by Steinitz, or which were possibly played by him, though it is unlikely. Readers should check that they are not included as Steinitz games in their databases. The first is the only one that might be a Steinitz game. There must be considerable doubt about it, though, and Anderberg did not include it in his Caissa article of rediscovered Steinitz games from Vienna. The Telegraf chess column, where it appeared, usually printed Steinitz’s surname in full

when publishing games by him. The argument in favor of its being a Steinitz game is internal evidence: the impressive attacking style and the similarity of the opening to another game known to have been played by him the following year. Niessen points out that Steinitz played 4. Nc3 against Bird in 1862 (game 47).

S–N Vienna 1861? Petroff Defense (C42) Telegraf, II:7 (18 February 1861), game 38 on column 333.

Appendix II: Dubious and Spurious Games 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. Bc4 N×e4 4. Nc3 N×c3 5. d×c3 d6 6. N×e5 Qe7 7. B×f7† Kd8 8. 0–0 Q×e5 9. Re1 Qf6 10. Re8† Kd7 11. Qg4† Kc6 12. Bd5† K×d5 13. Qe4† Kc5 14. Be3† Kb5 15. a4† Ka6 16. Qc4† b5 17. Q×b5 mate (1–0). The following game is from the same period. The loser was designated “St” when it was first published, but the evidence suggests that was not an abbreviation for Steinitz. See Chapter 1 for the circumstances. Briefly, the report of the event in the Vienna newspaper Der Zwischen-Akt named Harrwitz’s three opponents and Steinitz was not one of them.

D. Harrwitz–“St” (Schlemm?) Harrwitz blindfold simultaneous, Café Sauer, Vienna, 30 December 1860 King’s Gambit (C38) This game was published in the long-running chess column of the Illustrirte Zeitung of Leizpig, 9 February 1861, on page 14. Harrwitz played blindfold simultaneously against three members of the Vienna club; only this game survives.

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. d4 d6 6. 0–0 h6 7. c3 Ne7 8. g3 g4 9. Ne1 f3 10. Nd3 Ng6 11. Na3 Nc6 12. Qb3 Qe7 13. Nf4 N×f4 14. B×f4 a5 15. Rae1 a4 16. Qd1 Bd7 17. Nb5 Qd8 18. B×d6 c×d6 19. N×d6† Kf8 20. N×f7 Qb6 21. N×h8 B×h8 22. Rf2 N×d4 23. c×d4 B×d4 24. Kf1 Bb5 25. Rc2 B×c4† 26.  R×c4 Q×b2 27.  Qc2 Qb5 28.  Qd3 Rd8 29.  e5 Qb2 30. Qf5† Ke8 31. Qg6† 1–0 The next case is especially notorious because there is a suspicion that this widely-published brilliancy was deliberately concocted as a prank by Walter Grimshaw (1832–1890) and then submitted for publication by a friend. It first appeared in the Illustrated London News of 23 October 1880 as “Played between Mr. Grimshaw, the well-known composer of problems, and a Divan player.” Grimshaw said he did not record the score of the game he won against Steinitz but that it was taken down by somebody else. This was possibly the Rev. S. W. Earnshaw, a game of whose appeared just before the Grimshaw game in the same article. Steinitz admitted in the International Chess Magazine (May 1891, pages 144–148) he had once played Grimshaw and lost, probably about 1875, but said that game had begun 1. e4 e5 2. Bc4 Bc5 and it lasted about 50 moves. A stranger (who only introduced himself after the game) played very slowly and eventually Steinitz spoiled a winning position. Steinitz also denied MacDonnell’s later claim that he was present when the game was played. Winter has examined the case in detail in a 2015 article to be found at www.chesshistory.com/winter/extra/ grimshawsteinitz.html.

W. Grimshaw?–Steinitz?? Cigar Divan London, 1878? Scotch Game (C45) Bachmann, game 401.

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1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Qh4 5. Nb5 Q×e4† As pointed out later when there was discussion about this game, Steinitz knew the variation well (as it had featured in the London–Vienna correspondence match) and in his 1876 match with Blackburne he had always played 5. … Bb4†. 6. Be3 Bb4† 7. Nd2 B×d2† 8. Q×d2 Kd8 9. 0–0–0 Qe6 10. Bf4 d6 11. B×d6 c×d6 12. N×d6 Q×a2? 13. Nb5† Ke8 14. Nc7† Kf8 15. Qd6† 1–0. The I.L.N. stopped here saying “White mates in a few moves.” There are also some bogus games in circulation which were never said to be played by Steinitz in primary sources but which have been attributed to him in modern times. ChessBase has in recent years been gradually eliminating mistakes from their historic databases but some may yet be in circulation. Their Mega Database 2011 included a highly implausible game purporting to be Deacon–Steinitz, “London m-B 6263.” By the 2017 edition of that database it had been eliminated, yet it was still included in the same company’s Big Database 2018 as “London Casual Games 1863.” Here are the moves: 1. d4 d5 2. c4 c6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Nf3 d×c4 5. e3 b5 6. a4 b4 7. Nb1 Ba6 8. Be2 e6 9. Ne5 Be7 10. 0–0 0–0 11. N×c4 Nbd7 12. Nbd2 c5 13. Ne5 B×e2 14. Q×e2 Qc7 15. Ndc4 Rac8 16. b3 c×d4 17. e×d4 Nb6 18. Bb2 Nbd5 19. Rac1 Rfd8 20. N×f7 Nf4 21. Qf3 Qb8 22. N×d8 B×d8 23. d5 N6xd5 24. Rfe1 Bg5 25. h4 Bh6 26. Qg4 Rf8 27. Rcd1 Nf6 28. B×f6 R×f6 29. Ne5 Qc8 30. g3 0–1 [sic]. This game, which was actually won by White, is also in the same database with its correct designation: Alekhine versus Pavlov-Pianov from a 1920 exhibition in Moscow! The last time we looked, this fake Steinitz game was also still included in the Steinitz collection at the website chess-db.com. Furthermore, in some databases (not those by ChessBase or Pickard) there used to be a game which purported to be Steinitz–Zukertort from “London tournaments 1872” but which turned out to be Capablanca–Janowski, New York 1924! As of 13 August 2019, this was still included as a Steinitz game at chess-db.com. Here are the moves: 1. Nf3 d5 2. g3 c5 3. Bg2 Nc6 4. 0–0 e5 5. c4 d4 6. d3 Bd6 7. e3 Nge7 8. e×d4 c×d4 9. a3 a5 10. Nbd2 Ng6 11. Re1 0–0 12. Qc2 Re8 13. b3 h6 14. Rb1 Be6 15. h4 Rc8 16. c5 Bb8 17. Nc4 f6 18. Bd2 Kh8 19. b4 a×b4 20. a×b4 Na7 21. Qc1 Nb5 22. Nh2 Qe7 23.  Ra1 Rc7 24.  Ra5 Bd7 25.  Nb6 Bc6 26.  Qc4 Na7 27. Nd5 B×d5 28. Q×d5 f5 29. Qf3 Qf6 30. h5 Ne7 31. g4 f4 32. Qe4 Nec6 33. Raa1 Rce7 34. Qg6 Qf8 35. Nf3 Re6 36. Nh4 Rf6 37. Be4 Qg8 38. Bd5 Ne7 39. Q×f6 g×f6 40. B×g8 R×g8 41. f3 f5 42. B×f4 Nec6 43. Ng6† Kh7 44. B×e5 N×e5 45. R×e5 B×e5 46. R×a7 1–0. Returning to ChessBase’s Mega 2017 and Big 2018 editions, one finds the following supposed Steinitz–Anderssen game designated “British CA-05 Casual Games London 1862,”

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which previously they had designated “London mt 1862.” If one searches for a position from the end of this game in Mega 2017 one will find that this was actually a 1909 Moscow consultation game, Alekhine and Blumenfeld versus Bernstein and Goncharov, which as with the earlier example can be confirmed from Leonard Skinner and Robert Verhoeven’s magnum opus of Alekhine’s games! 1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 c6 3. c4 Nf6 4. Bf4 d×c4 5. e3 b5 6. a4 Nd5 7. a×b5 c×b5 8. Be2 Qb6 9. 0–0 e6 10. b3 c3 11. B×b8 R×b8 12. e4 Nf4 13. N×c3 a6 14. Qd2 N×e2† 15. N×e2 Be7 16. Nf4 Bb7 17.  Ne5 Rd8 18.  d5 0–0 19.  Qc3 Bf6 20.  Nh5 e×d5 21. N×f6† Q×f6 22. Qc7 d×e4 23. Ng4 Qc6 24. Q×c6 B×c6 25. R×a6 Bd5 26. b4 Bc4 27. Re1 Rd2 28. Ne5 Rb2 29. Nc6 h6 30. h4 f5 31. Ra7 Kh7 32. Rea1 Rf6 33. Rc7 e3 34. f3 Rg6 35. g4 f×g4 36. f4 Bd5 37. Nd4 Ra6 38. R×a6 Rb1† 0–1 The 2006 edition of the Leguan database attributed a different Alekhine game to a Steinitz World Championship match, highly implausibly in view of the hypermodern opening. According to that “source,” the Chigorin–Steinitz, 5th match game 1892 went: 1. Nf3 d5 2. b3 Nf6 3. Bb2 g6 4. c4 c6 5. e3 Bg7 6. Be2 0–0 7. 0–0 Nbd7 8. d3 Re8 9. Nc3 e5 10. c×d5 N×d5 11. N×d5 c×d5 12. Qc2 Nf8 13. Rac1 Bd7 14. Rfd1 Rc8 15. Qd2 Bc6 16. d4 e4 17. Ne5 B×e5 18. d×e5 Qg5 19. b4 a6 20. Qd4 Ne6 21. Qb6 Nf8 22. Qd4 Ne6 23. Qa7 Qd8 24. Bd4 Ra8 25. Qb6 N×d4 26. Q×d4 Qe7 27. Rc5 Q×e5 28. Q×e5 R×e5 29. Ra5 Ree8 30. h4 b5 31. Rc1 Bb7 32. Rc7 Rab8 33. Ra3 Rec8 34. Rac3 R×c7 35. R×c7 Bc8 36. Kh2 Kg7 37. Kg3 Kf6 38. Kf4 h6 39. Rc6† Be6 40. R×a6 g5† 41. h×g5† h×g5† 42. Kg3 Ke5 43.  f3 d4 44.  e×d4† K×d4 45.  f×e4 K×e4 46.  a4 b×a4 47. R×a4 Ke3 48. Bf3 f5 49. Ra3† Kd4 50. Ra6 Bc4 51. Ra5 Bd3 52. Ra4 Kc3 53. Ra7 g4 54. Rb7 Rc8 55. Bd5 Kd4 56. Be6 Rc1 57.  Re7 Be4 58.  b5 Rc2 59.  Kf4 Rf2† 60.  Kg5 R×g2 61. B×f5 B×f5 ½–½. This was in fact one of two games Alekhine played simultaneously in Chicago on 25 April 1929 against consulting

partners, who in this case were Samuel D. Factor and Charles Elison. Skinner and Verhoeven (game 1203) cite the American Chess Bulletin 1929, page 98. Also, in a critique of Fatbase 2000, Winter pointed out that it included what purported to be a game played by Steinitz in a simultaneous exhibition in New York in 1844, when he was eight years old. (It was actually a Steinitz game, but played in America in 1884.) Such cases as these underline the importance of trying to trace all Steinitz games to their original sources to determine their authenticity. To conclude this appendix, one’s attention is drawn to a game where, when it was published in The Field in 1885, White was named just as “W. S.” and it was introduced as follows: “Chess in Styria. The subjoined game was played at Graz, on Sept. 13 last.” We have no information about Steinitz’s whereabouts at that date, which is so specific that it is unlikely to be wrong. Presumably Hoffer received the score directly from Professor Johann Nepomuk Berger who indeed lived in Graz. It makes sense that Hoffer, by giving White those initials might wish to imply he was printing a Steinitz loss, yet White’s standard of play was hardly that of the champion. Perhaps Steinitz had been asked about this because he reprinted the game in I.C.M. (April 1885), pages 118–119, identifying White only as “An amateur…. S.” This was clearly a repudiation of any suggestion that he might have been involved.

“W. S.”–J. N. Berger Graz friendly, 13 September 1884 Scotch Game (C45) The Field, LXV (3 January 1885).

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Nf6 5. N×c6 b×c6 6. Bd3 d5 7. e×d5 c×d5 8. 0–0 Be7 9. Nc3 0–0 10. h3 c6 11. Bf4 Be6 12. a3 a5 13. Ne2 Qb6 14. b3 Bc5 15. Ng3 Rfe8 16. Bg5 Nd7 17. a4 Ne5 18. Be2 h6 19. Bc1 Ng6 20. Nh5 Ra7 21. Nf4 Rae7 22. Bd3 Ne5 23. Ba3 B×a3 24. R×a3 Qb4 25. Qc1 Bd7 26. c3 Qd6 27. Bc2 g5 28. Nh5 B×h3! 29. g×h3? Nf3† 30. Kg2 Re1 31. Qb2 and Black announced mate in five moves (0–1).

Appendix III: Extracts from Steinitz’s Review of Wormald’s Chess Openings (1875) Steinitz’s review of R. B. Wormald’s book The Chess Openings (2d edition, 1875) was published in two parts in the second volume of The City of London Chess Magazine (November, pages 297–304, and December, pages 331–336).

Appendix III: Extracts from Steinitz’s Review of Wormald (1875)

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The extracts here are drawn from the beginning of the first part. No example of his technical criticisms is included but some (together with some quotes from later in the review) may be found in CN3974 (15 October 2005), which is available online at http://www.chesshistory.com/winter/winter15.html#3974._The_Steinitz-Wormald-MacDonnell_ Much has been done by modern analysts to point out a clear path in almost every practicable direction through the ramifications of the openings; still the work of distilling the essence of plausible combinations in the early part of the game seems to be growing from time to time, and the practice of strong masters constantly supplies the theory of the openings with new material for further investigation. Naturally the stock of abortive moves and variations that do not bear much critical reflection is still more inexhaustible, and the old saying that one fool can raise more questions than many wise men can answer holds good in Chess as well as in other matters. It cannot, therefore, be wondered at that the records of Chess practice, even amongst players of some reputation, bristle with introductions of shallow inventions and futile experiments, whose promulgators find it easy enough to justify a hankering after originality at the expense of correctness. Accordingly the student must generally resort to the theory of the game for guidance amongst conflicting opinions, and the author of a Chess book is expected to perform the difficult task of codifying established forms of play, and discerning between real improvements and such novelties as do not contain the germ of vitality. He in his turn may either shift the responsibility of his teachings upon the practice of masters, whose fame has been repeatedly verified by success in hard-fought contests over the board, or else he may embody the results of his independent judgment in his analytical labours. In the latter case his repute as a practical player will form an important factor in the estimation of the trust that should be reposed in his productions, and it is justly demanded from the Chess writer that his antecedents should afford some proofs of his having trained his intellect to grasping the practicable, and avoiding the delusive grooves of fallacies which border in abundance on the high road of logical deductions from the practice of the game. When players of the stamp of Heydebrandt [sic], Löwenthal, Staunton, Neumann, Zukertort, Lange, Suhle, etc., retire into the upper house of Chess critics, after having fought many a hard battle in the service of His Majesty the King of Chess, greater weight of authority must be at once attached to their investigations than could ever be accorded to the demonstrations of an outsider who has never entered the Chess arena, though he might prove to his own satisfaction the soundness of his alleged discoveries. A Chess author is under the obligation of producing in his examinations of each form of play a complete chain of combinations, every link of which is required to be perfect; for if there be the slightest flaws in any of the propositions whereby he supports his conclusions, the whole structure of his analysis tumbles down, like a house made of cards, at the slightest touch. The

combined gifts of accuracy, sound originality, correct judgment, and faithful patience—in a word, the Chess genius necessary to the fulfilment of such an object—are no common properties, and cannot be accredited to every one who professes to have discovered his own great qualifications for such a purpose by a process similar to the one which enabled the German philosopher to evolve a camel from the depths of his inner consciousness. These considerations have recurred to us on perusing the book before us, which lays claim in a remarkable degree to supersede the researches of the best German authorities. In common fairness to the latter, it becomes incumbent upon us to investigate the author’s standing as a Chess-player. Mr. Wormald is certainly a problem composer of high merits (of which we shall speak more anon), though we believe he has never succeeded in gaining a prize in any problem competition, and might, therefore, be regarded as scarcely tip-top even in that respect. But, assuming that he ranked highest in the region of Chess fiction, it would not give him any title of prominency in the realities of the game, where a multitude of the deepest problems are presented for immediate solution at every stage. No reciprocity has ever been alleged to exist between the qualities requisite for the composition of fine problems and the capacities that command success in the struggles over the board. Some first-class players have produced isolated specimens of excellent compositions, but none of them have ever entered into competition in any problems tournament; and, on the other hand, very few of the best composers have ever risen beyond the strength of dilettants in actual play. The claims to repute in the two branches must therefore rest on different grounds; and the aspirant to the fame of a player can only be judged by his deeds against first-class masters in matches and tournaments. Applying this measure to the question of the author’s strength, we must confess our total ignorance of any achievement on the part of Mr. Wormald which would place him on a level even with second-rate players. The only tournament of any import for which he ever entered, to our knowledge, was the competition for the challenge cup of the British Chess Association in 1868, and his failing to gain any prize on that occasion becomes the more significant if we bear in mind that the entrance was restricted to British-born subjects. Nor have we ever heard of a single good game played by Mr. Wormald, against a strong opponent, wherein he might have shown any such marked ability as usually distinguishes the skirmishes of strong masters which appear in the periodical chess publications of the day. So far Mr. Wormald has given little indication of his having learned anything before he attempted to teach, and his chess pugnacity

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seems to have been reserved for the semi-controversial book under our notice, which abounds with attempted exposures of alleged errors that occur in other chess works. For our part we should have thought that analytical discussions are more fitted for a Chess periodical than for a Chess book, whose province it is only to give the final verdict on the merits of the question, without recapitulating the arguments of the advocates on each side. The illustrious author of the German Handbook would never stoop to such mean tricks of self-glorification as pointing out the fallacies of other works. He properly confined his attention to promulgating what he considered best, though he generously never failed to mention other writers when he adopted their views, or when he was in doubt about his own. Tastes may differ; but, with the most charitable inclination to take into account Mr. Wormald’s divergence from our notions of propriety, we felt, even before investigating the truth of his charges, that some of his long-winded and elaborate demonstrations of the peccadilloes alleged against other writers were doing violence to our toleration. We were also disposed to give the author credit for his efforts to show himself impartial in attacking his predecessors one and all, without fear or favour, if we did not notice one remarkable exception. Heydebrand, Jaenisch, Max Lange, Neumann, Suhle—nay, even the combined efforts of Morphy and Arnous de Rivière, do not pass the author’s scrutiny unscathed; but we could not find a single instance where he expressly ventured to differ from any recommendations made by the late Mr. Staunton in his numerous chess works. How far this remarkable exemption will tend to establish the analytical infallibility of the late Mr. Staunton—who, significantly enough, was still alive at the time when Mr. Wormald’s book went through the press—is a question which we have no wish to ventilate further, and it becomes only our duty to elucidate the merits of the author’s accusations against other Chess writers, based, as he informs us in the preface to his first edition, solely on his own conscientious examination. By the way, we cannot repress a wish that Mr. Wormald had bestowed more of his conscientious ex-

amination on the correction of his proofs, and the expunging of clerical blunders and bewildering misprints, which occur in his book in a larger proportion than in any other existing chess work worthy of the name. This sort of carelessness is in itself quite unpardonable when often recurring; but when we find it also combined with a complete failure of establishing the immense majority of the derogations attempted against contemporaries and previous Chess teachers, we are led strongly to suspect that Mr. Wormald’s conscience cannot be of a very exacting description. We shall presently let the book speak for itself, and, though the space at our command will not allow us to repeat the variations so as to make our critical comments generally intelligible, we trust that our analytical remarks will be of some use to those who can follow us with the book in hand, especially to Chess compilers and future writers on the game. We have no hesitation in terming Mr. Wormald’s Chess Openings a slovenly work, to the contents of which Lessing’s celebrated verdict might be applied, “What is new is not true, and what is true is not new.” Though we cannot give examples from the whole volume, we have no wish to support our judgment on more general assertions; and we have, therefore, adopted a singular mode of reviewing, which we trust will be considered fair to the author. We shall at first confine ourselves to going through the first five chapters and the commencement of the sixth, and we think that the number of errors of various descriptions, even in that portion, would be sufficient to justify our condemnation of the whole. The author’s incapacity appears most saliently when he attempts to find fault with other writers. In every one of these instances we find him utterly wrong and incapable, both in the reasons he advances for rejecting well-established moves and variations, and in the amendments which he proposes to substitute. Yet, in order to meet the objection that the first portion of the book was perhaps the weakest, we offer the volume fair chances by opening the book at every tenth page until we arrive at one free from error…. The contents of that happy page consisted in a sort of index of the opening moves of a certain début.

Appendix IV: First “Ink War” of 1876–1877 The texts quoted in this Appendix all relate to the narrative in Chapter 10 in the section headlined “The Divan crisis.”

Appendix IV: First “Ink War” of 1876–1877 Duffy, writing in The Westminster Papers, X (1 September 1877), page 75; also reprinted in I.S.D.N., VII (Saturday, 15 September 1877), page 633 British amateurs of chess will, we hope, be sorry to learn that all the English exponents of the game in London journalism are threatened with a direful doom. The terrible chief of a dreadful band—the Vehm-gericht of Shilling-Hunters— has imparted, confidentially, to several hundred citizens of London that all persons who have been guilty of deriding the noble sport of shilling-hunting are to be crushed at an early date. Crushed is the awful sentence. Not, mark you, merely reviled in the epithets of the slums, that has been tried, and it has failed to effect its purpose, but “Crushed,” my masters. Crushed out of all recognition by the conventional coroner and his intelligent jury. In every London Chess-room men now brood over the horrible secret, whispering with bated breath of its awful purport, and every Bierhaul [sic] from the Square of Leicester—sacred to wronged nationalities—to the slums abutting on the Strand, and thence to the traditional City bun-shop, echoes to the cry of Vengeance and Shillings. First among the list of victims appears the chess editor of the WESTMINSTER PAPERS, and next to him—miserable pre-eminence—his coadjutor Mr. Potter, and after him Mr. Blackburne, for, although he is a “professional” Chess-player, he has not chosen to fight against his countrymen. In due succession follow the Chess editors of the Illustrated London News, Land and Water and the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News, and then—and what then? Why then the avengers—just like capturing a Chessman—step into the vacant places! Then there shall be a rain of English shillings upon an alien sovereign holding undisputed sway over English Chess! Then shall be realized the dreams inspired by the “soft zephyrs through a broken pane,” and Chess adventurers in England may hope for a blissful future, when no one dare challenge either their gentility or their skill! Such is the awful doom of the Present—such is the brilliant programme of the Future, such us the amazing tomfoolery in which some of the professors of gentle Chess are said to indulge. Is it necessary—is it possible indeed—to be serious over this sort of thing? Is there an amateur of Chess in the world prepared to identify himself with a mannikin rowdyism of the kind we have described? We do not think so, but for all that the number of its patrons would not affect our course. Our objection to professional Chess is founded upon a firm conviction that professionalism is the bane of all sport from skittles and horse-racing to the game of Chess. In the Chess-room, as on the race-course, there is necessarily a wide distinction between betting a shilling for the pastime of an hour, and betting shillings because the bettor must

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win them to live. It is the difference that exists between the sportsman and the sporting man, and every true lover of sport knows well in what qualities that difference consists. No reader of this journal needs to be told that we have always been opposed to betting on games of Chess, but we have used no weapon in our assaults upon it, and those persons that apparently desire to extend its practice, save legitimate ridicule of public proceedings, and we are not to be diverted from that course so long as there is a shaft left in our quiver.

Zukertort to The Figaro, Wednesday, 12 September 1877, page 14 TO THE EDITOR OF THE FIGARO CHESS COLUMN SIR—A certain portion of the metropolitan chess press has carried on its business for some time on the principle of a joint-stock company, with the premium of mutual praise. So far this self-admiration society puffs up its members, habest sibi. Unfortunately for this gentry, the value of their praising notes is on a par with the quotations of certain South American loans. These gentlemen, therefore, make up for their ignorance of scientific chess by scurrilous attacks against the leading chess players outside their ring. For my own part, I have hitherto ignored and treated with contempt such defamatory remarks, whether directed against me in my public position as a chess player, or against my private character; but I think it right to point out, just for once, how history is manufactured in these quarters. The account of the termination of my match with Mr. Blackburne given in the columns of this clique is a worthy sample of the fairness of the writers. The chivalry and good taste displayed in attacking me continually during my absence from England is but rivalled by the truthfulness of the statements in reference. E.g., a contemporary gives, on the 14th of July, a garbled report about the breaking up of my match with Mr. Blackburne, finishing with—“Herr Zukertort left London on Tuesday las[t] to fulfil a lucrative engagement at the Rotterdam Chess Club.” It is certainly creditable to be able to win money by playing chess, and unquestionably more honourable than to earn it by writing on chess in the way mentioned. There is, however, not an atom of truth in this charitable statement, obviously intended to impute to me a mercenary motive for discontinuing the match (which, as you reported, was caused by a default in Mr. Blackburne’s stakes). On my way to Leipzic [sic] I stopped for three days in Rotterdam; but I had neither there, nor in any other Dutch place any engagement at all, lucrative or otherwise. I take the opportunity to state that I am ready to continue the match, as I told Mr. Blackburne before leaving England. Should he prefer it, we may begin a new one. By inserting these lines you will greatly oblige—Yours truly. J. H. ZUKERTORT

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Steinitz in The Figaro, Wednesday, 19 September 1877, page 14 PROFESSIONAL CHESS PLAYERS AND AMATEUR ACCOUNTANTS Whatever the superiority in the royal game of chess may be worth, there can be no doubt that it is totally independent of taste and fashion, and capable of clear and positive demonstration. It is, therefore, only natural that the envy and jealousy which are sure to be excited by any kind of excellence find in chess affairs their only outlet in vulgar attempts to drag the private character of eminent players down to their own level. This is the only, though a sufficient, explanation of the inky ruffianism which has latterly developed itself in certain of our chess contempt-oraries [sic] as complained of in Herr Zukertort’s letter, published in our last week’s issue, and for which the game in general has been held most unjustly responsible by outsiders. Certain individuals, blessed with more ambition than brains, who are well aware of their incapacity to compete above board, have been practising a kind of underhand game, which is much easier than playing chess, and can apparently be made more profitable. The process is a simple one, and may be described briefly thus: For reasons into which it is unnecessary at present to enter, games of chess are generally played in clubs and public chess rooms for the small stake of a shilling, and money prizes are offered in great tournaments. No sooner, however, does an excellent player rise to the surface, than some literary detectives make it their business to sniffle publicly into his private affairs. Does he buy bread or cake for the money he gains at chess? Why an eminent player or chess writer should be thus compelled to give an account whether he possesses any private means of living, or whether he speculates in the funds, or writes anonymously for newspapers, is a question which will hardly be answered even by the literary cads who institute the snobbish inquisition. But woe betide the first-class player whose hard-earned shilling is thus rightly or wrongly reported to have been traced to the baker’s shop instead of to the confectioner’s. The press-gang of amateur accountants have enlisted him amongst the professionals, nolens volens, like, of olden times, sailors were pressed into the public service upon receiving the queen’s shilling. Hence he is made the victim of the coarsest abuse of vulgar personalities, gross misrepresentations, foul insinuations, and, often enough, of downright false statements; while, on the other hand, obscure individuals pursuing some doubtful sort of business or profession, who could never hold the candle to first-class players or composers in public competition, are puffed up in the chess press as socalled amateurs. This form of literary blackguardism has been going on for years without ever having been thought worthy of the least

notice on the part of the chess masters thus assailed; but it has latterly reached such dimensions that we have been requested by a number of influential amateurs to expose the matter on public grounds, for there can be no doubt that this impudent sort of humbug has been made to pay. Such a state of affairs could not exist if newspaper editors and proprietors were acquainted in the least with chess affairs: but as usual, imposture is flourishing on the soil of ignorance. It will be scarcely be credited, but is nevertheless a fact, that while chess masters like Blackburne, Zukerkort, Healey, and Grimshaw, who have proved their first-rate calibre as players or problem authors in international competitions open to all the world, are either grossly abused or systematically ignored, the greatest portion of the metropolitan chess press has been placed in the hands of one individual, manifestly innocent of chess skill, and an incompetent chess critic. His breed and avocation would account sufficiently for his personal attacks and distorted reports of public proceedings, of which we may give some specimens on a future occasion. How the technical part of the editorial duties fares in the hands of this person can be better imagined than described. The newspaper chess columns, which used to be devoted solely to the records of combats of first-rate masters, are now cultivating the puerile performances of knightplayers, often full of misprints which are not acknowledged, and are illustrated by absurd editorial notes. As regards the problem department, we are occasionally informed about something being wrong, by a mysterious announcement like the one in the Illustrated London News of August 18th, under the heading of Problem No. 1745: “As nearly all our correspondents have discovered, White has choice of several lines of play, all leading to the same result,” as if it were a merit of the problem to admit to several solutions, whereas every tyro in chess problems knows that a fundamental rule of construction is that there shall be one solution only. In the majority of cases, however, the most obvious mistakes are totally ignored, and charitably cloaked with the mantle of editorial infallibility.

Duffy in Land and Water, XXIV (22 September 1877), page 249 CHESS GOSSIP. The outlook for the coming winter season is more promising than it has been for many years past. No one now believes that the fortunes of English chess are dependent upon the action of a couple of foreign professors of the game residing in London, unless indeed the professors themselves entertain such a notion. But even in their case there must now be a self-consciousness of littleness that should suffice to alarm self-conceit in its most extremelydeveloped form. By-the-by, the crushing process described by the Westminster Papers for the current month, has been commenced. When the assault is developed, we shall have something to say about it.

Appendix IV: First “Ink War” of 1876–1877 Duffy in Land and Water, XXIV (29 September 1877), pages 271–272 In answers to correspondents: “G. C., Leeds.—You can easily find an amateur adversary at Simpson’s. It is the best public room, but cut the shilling hunters that haunt it.” In the Chess Gossip section: Saturday is always a field day in the London chess rooms, for then the toil of the week is ended, and the toiler, if he is a chess-player, is wont to seek relaxation in the practice of his favourite pastime. Then, too, the motley troupe of shillinghunters are assembled, each with one eye upon a book and the other upon the door, ready to swoop upon the prey the moment it appears upon the scene. There are others there as well, for the sport of shilling-hunting, however degrading it may be to the “gentle’s game,” is a never-failing source of amusement to the spectator. The sport begins upon the entrance of a visitor to a chess-room, whose manner or movements betray ignorance of his surroundings. “Vould you like to blay a game?” is the view-hallo of the chase, which is never relinquished until the quarry is hunted down, or, so to speak, finds sanctuary in the pocket of the hunter. This exhilarating sport may now be witnessed on any day of the week in any London chess-room, but, as we have already said, Saturday is the day of all days. Last Saturday, however, there was a change. That wild animal, the Shilling, was permitted to hybernate [sic] in the purse of its lawful owner, while the clown of the troupe of hunters entertained the visitors with a new set of antics. The old cry of “Vould you like to blay a game?” was changed to “Haf you zeen my article?” and the general confession of ignorance was condemned in the awful penalty of hearing “the article” read by its author. “Verily,” said one victim, “I have saved five shillings, but I have got a terrible headache.” For “the article” itself, we have read it, and our readers may be assured that, like the Archbishop of Rheims’ curse, nobody is anything the worse for it, but the author.

I.S.D.N., VII (Saturday, 29 September 1877), page 46 SHILLING HUNTING. After a dozen years of secret enmity the Shilling hunters have plucked up courage to come into the open, and there is now some hope that the battle of English Chess versus The Shilling Hunters will be fought by both sides in the light of day. Hitherto only one side has appeared there. English Chess journalists and players of repute have had to contend against a foe that presented one face to them and another to the public. For this general Chess fraternity there was ever ready a sneaking deference that deceived the unwary, and an air of oppressed worth that imposed upon the generous. For the Chess journalist and player was reserved all the native rowdyism of the vulgar adven-

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turer. The journalist was reviled in the slaw of a costermonger, and the player was assailed with depreciation of his skill. Some two years ago a few English Chess writers resolved to put an end to a state of things that rendered a London Chess room unsafe for any gentleman desirous of avoiding embroilment in a tavern brawl, and they have at length succeeded in drawing the offenders into a public statement of their aims. Their case, as presented by their advocate, is all that could be desired, for it must necessarily open the eyes of the Chess playing public to the true character and policy of the Shilling Hunters in England. It is, in fact, public repetition of the offences for the systematic perpetration of which, in secret, these persons already stand condemned. Inferentially, but plain enough for the purpose. English Chess players of acknowledged reputation as Bird, Boden, Macdonnell, Ranken, Skipworth, Thorold, and Wayte, are decried as knight players, “whose performances arc puerile,” and any man that has not wasted his career in efforts to win paltry prizes in international tournaments, is pronounced unfit to address the public on the subject of Chess. But the crushing denunciation is reserved for the man that has prescribed to expose the evil of shilling play, a proceeding that is impudently described as an attempt to pry into private affairs. No one, argues the shilling hunter’s advocate, has a right to inquire what is done with money won by playing Chess. An ingenious way of insinuating that somebody has so inquired. No one has inquired what becomes of such money, and we will vouch for it that no one cares. The law does not inquire of the betting man what he does with the money acquired in the pursuit of his trade but the law recognizes that the trade is an evil one, and does all it can to stop it. To stop the trade of shilling play is a public work and a good work, and an imputation that it is an attempt to pry into private affairs, comes with laughable significance from the mountebanks who are eternally attitudinising before the public.

Duffy writing in The Westminster Papers, X (1 October 1877), page 95 (accompanied by their “Crushed” cartoon) The mannikins have uttered their anathema, and still men smile—smile more than ever. Indeed, the present aspect of London Chess circles is poorly described in the image of Laughter holding both her sides. In city and the suburbs the cry is “Haf you zeen my article?” It is the question of the day, and bids fair to rival the popular “Whoa Emma” in laughter moving qualities. Gentle reader of THE WESTMINSTER PAPERS, have you seen his article? Gentle reader, you, whose lot is cast upon the snowy steppes of Siberia, you, whose camp is on the torrid plains of India, and you, whose home is “located” in the land of the West, have you “zeen” his “article?” No? Well, we have requested our artist to quote it, and he has done so, in extenso, upon the preceding page.

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The Westminster Papers, same issue, page 97 The West End Chess Club is reported to have closed its doors on the 29th ultimo. The club was inaugurated about two years ago with some prospect of success, but very early in its career there appeared marked signs of debility. Subjected to the surgical treatment that prevails upon the Continent of Europe, it succumbed, like Count Cavour, under the process of “bleeding.” Before the club was three months old, the “honorary” secretary received a “testimonial,” and many “simultaneous” displays exacted a penalty from the members in proportion to their means, or as the vagabond gossip of the time had it, their meanness. The decease of the West End Chess Club will be mourned by metropolitan Chess players, for the catastrophe has driven the shilling hunters to their last refuge in London.

Anonymous letter to The Figaro, 3 October 1877, page 14 PROFESSIONAL CHESS PLAYERS. TO THE EDITOR OF THE FIGARO SIR—In reference to the above subject, will you allow me to point out that it is not the hard-earned shilling of the firstclass professional player that makes the chess-room unpleasant? It is the self-styled amateur (perhaps a pawn-and-two player) who causes the mischief. Their name is legion, and they are to be found in all the chief centres of the metropolis; they do not afford themselves a cigar, but they wish to win enough to pay for their coffee. You find them sneaking in and looking for a player of inferior grade; they have no ambition to meet their equal, but when such a catastrophe does occur, they quickly discover that it is time for them to go. Let the commercial manager of the Chess Editorial Company take this class in hand, and if he can put them to shame, he will deserve well of the London chess public. After your intimation as to the leading (numerically speaking) chess editor, it is amusing to find one contemporary supporting the other in the matter of professionals. The editorial monopoly fully explains why the abusive twaddle of the chess press has never been answered before. 27 Sept. 1877 B.S.

Duffy in Land and Water, XXIV (Saturday, 6 October 1877), page 293 The West-end [sic] Chess Club is said to have closed its doors on the 29th ultimo after a brief life of two years. It was, for a time, the happy hunting-ground of the noisiest German band in London, the gentry who believe that it is highly “creditable” to “win” other people’s money. Among Englishmen there is a strong preference for earning it.

I.S.D.N., VII (Saturday, 6 October 1877), page 59 The Winter Season at the City Chess Club will be com-

menced next week, when an attractive programme prepared by the Committee will be submitted to the members assembled at the annual meeting. Since this club was freed from the discordant German band that for some years disturbed its peace, it has done more for the cultivation and spread of Chess than any association of the kind that ever existed. The West End Club was shut up last week. No more shilling hunting there.

Steinitz in The Figaro, 17 October 1877 A LITERARY OUTRAGE As was only to be expected, our recent disclosure of the trades’ unionism established amongst an inferior clique of chess competitors has evoked a volley of abuse, chiefly directed against the editor of this department and the professionals, the labor of throwing dirt in various ways being, as usual, divided between the different chess organs, which are used as catapults for that purpose, under the management of the commercial chess champion of Tokenhouse Yard. In justice, it ought to be mentioned that, by higher editorial authority, this sort of game has been latterly put a stop to in the Illustrated London News, and the chess column of that journal is now innocently engaged in the patronage of indigent “amateurs” who are fishing for connections amongst the wealthier members of the chess community. Occasionally the repressed animosity of the soi-disant chess writer manages to get into the paper a slight fling; like, for instance, the statement that “the signal victory of Mr. Steinitz over Mr. Blackburne was solely due to the latter’s shattered state of health.” That the actual facts, as known to over a hundred eyewitnesses, and the antecedents of both players, are utterly opposed to such an explanation, is, of course, all the worse for the facts; but such things are mere trifles in comparison to the low attempt at rattening the private character of eminent players, which appears in Land and Water of the 29th ult. While on this subject we may just as well give a brief description of the chess column of that date, which is a fair sample of the average chess editorial quality exhibited in that journal. At the top of the column figures the now stereotyped imaginary correspondent, who, week by week, disguised in various initials, and writing from different localities, obligingly addresses a question to which a reply fits similar to the one given at the head of the answers to correspondents in that number:“G. C., Leeds.—You can easily find an amateur adversary at Simpson’s. It is the best public room, but cut the shilling hunters that haunt it.” Of course, the editorial tout forgets to mention that the amateur adversary is not adverse [sic] to pocketing as many shillings as he can get. Next comes a two-move problem, already previously published, in a slightly different form, on the 21st of April, in another journal managed by the same

Appendix IV: First “Ink War” of 1876–1877 person, and which, in its new shape, can be solved in two different ways, viz. by 1. Kt to Kt5 and 1. Kt to K8. As usual, this editorial piece of stupidity has not been acknowledged in any way when the solution was given. There follows a foolish specimen of modern chess performance between two second-rate players, in which on the 11th move a rook is left en prise, without rhyme or reason, and the opponent does not see it. A few shallow and commonplace comments are attached at the end, which are either altogether erroneous, like note (a) or throw no light whatever on the position. Next is given a game between two third-rate players, which was first published in the American Chess Magazine, exactly thirty years ago. Last, but not least, as the gist of the column, fairly illustrating the only talent for which the chess editor is notorious, appears the following piece of inky ruffianism:— [Here Steinitz quoted, almost verbatim, a large chunk of the 29 September Chess Gossip item that mocked him, with some variations of spelling and punctuation.] … In vindication of the honor of chess players and of newspaper writers, we feel bound to state that the editor of the department who is responsible for the above literary outrage belongs to neither profession. He is merely known as a sort of Hibernian hybrid, between a city clerk in an accountant’s office and a would be chess critic, who is carrying on the obstructive policy in chess matters, having wormed himself into the chess press under the pretence of being an authority on the game, while, in reality, no surgical operation would ever fit him for any higher grade than that of a fifthrate chess-player, whom first-rates would give the large odds of a knight. Hinc illæ lachrymæ. Consequently the Hibernian John Bully of the chess press, who misses no opportunity of pelting the foreigners with mud, has no other means of getting into notoriety in the chess world than to undermine the repute of eminent players by dishing up such stories as the above. But we shall not mince matters in such a case, and we have no hesitation in denouncing the above quoted tale, and the insinuations it contains, which are evidently directed against the editor of this department, as an entire fabrication from beginning to the end. Not alone is the related incident utterly devoid of truth, as can be proved by a roomful of witnesses, but the amphibious ac-counter-jumper [sic] of Land and Water must have been fully aware that it could never have occurred; for it is well-known in metropolitan chess circles that Mr. Steinitz has practically given up skittle-play for several years past. As for the particular locality named, Mr. Steinitz is just in the habit of visiting it once a week on the Saturday, for the purpose of seeing old chess friends, and, as can be proved by scores of habitués, who had even upbraided him about his retirement, he has exactly played one single game for mere amusement in that establishment for the last six months.

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Another statement to the discredit of the professionals, made by the same individual in a monthly contempt-orary [sic] that does not deserve to be named in our columns, ought also not be passed unnoticed. It is asserted that in the now defunct West-end Chess Club, the members had been subjected to a process of “bleeding” by the professionals, who made pecuniary charges for simultaneous play. We can hardly believe that the marvellous blindfold exhibitions of Blackburne, who once played twelve blindfold games, and of Zukertort, who once performed the unprecedented feat of conducting sixteen games simultaneously, without sight of board or men, were meant to be included in that sneer, But, as regards the comparatively very easy walking tour of playing simultaneously, looking at each board in turn (Zukertort played in this way as many as sixty last year at Bristol), it occurred only on one occasion in the West-end Chess Club, and the performer, who played thirteen games in all, and received a fee of half a crown for each game, was Mr. Potter, who is publicly claimed by the ac-counterjumper [sic] as a “coadjutor.” This is really a distinction for the half a crown pedestrian as compared to the “shilling hunters,” with the difference of eighteen pence. Such is the character of the evidence brought by personal animosity against the professionals into the court of public opinion, to which we have appealed for the first time in twelve years, during which period the most eminent chess players have had to endure constantly a personal persecution such as has been hardly equalled in the history of modern newspaper literature. It would scarcely be necessary to review arguments built up on utterly fictitious facts. But as there is hardly any theory, however stupid, and no matter for what purpose it is advanced, which, when persistently propounded for years, does not find fools to give it credence, we may have to revert to the subject again. Suffice it to state that the wonderfully virtuous and scrupulous persecutors of the professionals who have admittedly been hit rather hard by our exposure of their propensities for smelling into the pockets of eminent players, have in their flight rallied behind the banner of a sentimental scarecrow. The weapon of anonymous abuse of the professionals in general, and more especially the John Bullying of foreign competition, is to be sanctified by moral indignation against playing chess for a shilling. Of course we have been told often enough that, for some mysterious reason, chess should form the only exception from all rules of political economy which allow the pleasure of many to be made the sole business or profession of the few. We were always informed that no chess player, however eminent, was entitled to any respect in chess clubs, or to any authority in the press, unless he had, at the same time, some other occupation: vide the shining example of the ac-counterjumper [sic], who is a more fit and proper person to do justice to passing chess events, and to the most delicate difficulties of the game, because he daily fortifies his

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conscience with investigations, for his city employers, of the complicated moral filth of fraudulent bankrupts and bubble companies. All this trash is now to be Tartuffed by a sentimental crusade against the sin of playing for money. How far the preachers believe in their own gospel will be scarcely necessary to point out, but we shall make the real working of the rule of playing for a small stake the subject of a further comment on a future occasion.

Blackburne to The Figaro, 31 October 1877 (NB: this letter also appeared in the I.S.D.N. of 27 October, page 134, and elsewhere) TO THE EDITOR OF THE FIGARO SIR.—My attention has been called to statement in an article in the Chess column of the FIGARO, of the 17th instant, personal to myself. I abstain from any comments on the general subject of that article; being of opinion that it is a topic of the discussion of which will in no way add to the dignity of my favourite game. The statement to which I desire to draw your attention is as follows:—“Occasionally the repressed animosity of the soi-disant chess writer manages to get into the paper a slight fling; like, for instance, the statement that ‘the signal victory of Mr. Steinitz of Mr. Blackburne was solely due to the latter’s shattered state of health.’ That the actual facts, as known to over a hundred eye-witnesses, and the antecedents of both players, are utterly opposed to such an explanation, is of course, all the worse for the facts.” It is not my intention to offer any “explanation” of the result of that match, but to assure you that my health at the time I played Herr Steinitz was “shattered” to so serious an extent by an attack of rheumatism, that the pain of my body I had to endure unquestionably affected my play. This is a matter about which the evidence of “a hundred eye-witnesses” would not be of any weight, but it is a fact which was well-known at the time to many of my intimate friends—I am, sir, yours most respectfully, J.H. BLACKBURNE

Extract from Duffy’s last column in Land and Water, XXIV (Saturday, 3 November 1877), page 385, reporting on a dinner held after the monthly committee meeting of the City of London Chess Club, on 29 September. MacDonnell proposed a toast to Duffy who was about to depart on business to America for a few months In replying he alluded to his labours as a chess journalist and the aim which for the last two years he had had in view, namely, that efforts which had been persistently made to

override and depreciate English chess should no longer be carried out in private, but should be made public, confident as he was that when such should be the case English chessplayers might be trusted to form their own opinion upon the matter. He had succeeded, and should not now feel disposed to take any further notice of the parties whose hands he had forced. Mr. Potter was then called upon to respond, and he made some remarks upon the hard-and-fast line which had become drawn between English and foreign players. He also alluded to the fact that the enemy was not now supported by any of the first-class English players. The latter were vilified, and in being so vilified were honoured, whereas a compliment from that quarter would be insulting. Mr. MacDonnell, in the course of a second speech, pointed out the domineering character of foreign pretensions, and the observations of the three speakers seemed to give much satisfaction to their hearers, among whom must be mentioned Mr. Boden as one who evidently desired to range himself on the side of his compatriots—a fact of much significance, considering that gentleman’s well-known friendly disposition and peaceloving character. Apropos of this subject must be considered Mr. Blackburne’s forcible but by no means intemperate letter which appeared in the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News of last week. It is pleasant to see the chiefs of English chess thus presenting a firm front to foreign aggression. In their unity they cannot be but strong, and the sight of their harmony makes it possible for us to hope that exotic machinations may in future be ignored, though none the less carefully watched.

Steinitz in The Figaro, 7 November 1877, page 14 THE CHESS FEVER—Chess matches and tournaments are certainly a heavy tax on the brains and nerves, and all the parties to an important contest are more or less affected by the strain on the mental faculties which the game imposes. Amongst the chess players of the last generation the fashion prevailed of announcing to all the world the particular ills to which the flesh of a defeated hero was heir to, and the stratagem was often adopted of making the chess reputation of the victor to suffer from the distemper of his opponent.* But we really thought that the peculiar chess epidemic from which the vanquished used to be invariably attacked had been completely stamped out, at least as far as the public was concerned, by the caustic remedies of Captain Kennedy’s satires in “Waifs and Strays from the Chess-board,” and that the etiquette would be established amongst chess combatants to treat their ailments at home. The chronic chess disease has, however, made its appearance latterly in the papers at the disposal of the British Chess *This was evidently a reference to Staunton.

Appendix V: Leaving The Field, 1882 Protectionists; and Mr. Blackburne, who seems to have recently joined that society, informs us—in a letter published in our last week’s issue (under the heading of “Letter-Box”)— that during his latest matches with Mr. Steinitz his health was really “shattered,” and he was suffering acutely from a secret form of rheumatism, the effects of which were quite imperceptible to over a hundred eyewitnesses, and only known to himself and a few intimate friends. Probably many lovers of the game will more admire Mr. Blackburne’s fortitude which enabled him to conceal his pains from the spectators in private at the time than his ungenerous memory, which publicly revives the recollection of his affliction twenty months after the match. It might also be interesting to students of chess pathology to learn from what kind of malady Mr. Blackburne was suffering during his previous contests against Mr. Steinitz in 1863 and 1870. Nor would it be unfair to conclude that Mr. Blackburne must have had a miraculous recovery in a very short space of time, if we are to judge from the fact of his entering the Divan tournament within a month after his match against Mr. Steinitz, and his ultimately coming out ahead of every competitor in that tourney by

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two games. In future, however, we trust it will be accepted as a maxim that the greatest error a chessplayer can commit is to fall ill just during a contest. No more than a general on the battle-field has a match-player, while fighting for public honors, any right to be in bad health.

Duffy in The Westminster Papers, 1 December 1877, page 131 The City Club-room is, indeed, a pleasant place now-adays, for bickerings are unknown, cabals and party strifes are a tradition, no man expects the adulation of his fellows. The day when the self-worshipper was worshipped have utterly gone by; ungovernable pride and the lust for power no longer have any influence there, nor is the heart made weary, nor the despatch of business hindered, or rather made impossible by portentous speeches, each of them mostly containing an ounce of meaning, or intended meaning, to a hundredweight of words. The evil spirit has been exorcized from the City Chess Club, and been driven into the desert, and concurrently therewith peace, harmony, and good fellowship prevail where once it was otherwise.

Appendix V: Leaving The Field, 1882 The first leading article (20 May), which was not written by Steinitz, provoked the crisis after the Vienna tournament which eventually resulted in Steinitz’s resignation from the chess editorship of The Field. The second leader (1 July), also probably written by Hoffer or by the paper’s editor J. H. Walsh, was noncontroversial but is provided here because (like the former) it is not included in the Moravian Chess reprint of Field columns. The documents in this Appendix may help readers form their own conclusion as to whether there was a conspiracy against Steinitz involving Hoffer or Mason.

Leading article, The Field, LIX (20 May 1882), pages 19–20 THE CHESS WORLD. THE ANTIQUITY alone of the game of chess might enable it to claim more than a passing interest in the eyes of the educated portion of the public. The study and practice which are required in order to enable a votary of it to attain real proficiency in the pursuit, doubtless deter many from progressing beyond mediocrity in mastering its details. Also, inasmuch as among genuine admirers of the game the interest of “combination” or “situation” is alone sufficient to render it attractive, without the incentive of lucre, or of anything more than a very nominal stake, those who prefer a gambling game to excite their interest not unnaturally look

to cards rather than chess for an after-dinner diversion. Among the younger members of society, especially in these active modern days, outdoor games take precedence of indoor amusements; and the introduction of lawn tennis—the attractions of which have militated of late against the development of even cricket and aquatics at the Universities—has created a powerful rival to chess as a country-house amusement. Nevertheless, in any country or London drawing room we should expect to find more than a majority of guests who would plead guilty to, at all events, “knowing the moves,” even though only a small minority might boast such amount of proficiency as would enable them to recognize, by inspection of the situation in a game that had progressed some dozen moves, what had been the “opening” selected.

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Bearing all this in mind, we cannot but feel a certain amount of surprise at the apathy which seems to exist at the current progress of what is perhaps the greatest chess tournament of the age, now under decision at Vienna. It would not be overstating the case to say that the greater portion of society—almost all except those who form what is known as the “Chess World”—are actually in ignorance that any such contest is in progress. A provincial lawn-tennis tournament, or bicycle contest, would, at all events, command that recognition and report which seem denied to the performances of the strongest collection of chess players the world can produce, and who are now assembled to do battle against each other. Not only the Continent and England, but America also, have sent their very best representatives to this tournament; the winner of which will be by many regarded, more or less, as the champion chess player of the day. We say more or less, because, in the opinion of many— an opinion which we ourselves are inclined to share—the result of a contest such as this does not absolutely prove, in the absence of parallel success in matches, that the winner is quite the best player of all the entries, though it must show that he possesses talents and knowledge of the game which entitle him to rank in the very first flight. A contest in a large field of competitors, carried on upon the principle of this tournament (wherein each player plays two games with each of his opponents, and the aggregate score of wins or draws decides the victory), must differ in many features from a match for a number of games up [i.e., a match for a specified number of wins where draws did not count] between only two such competitors. The player who might be able to defeat all comers in matches, might find himself running for once only second in a tournament of this description. The following illustration will explain what we mean: Let us suppose A. and B. facile princeps in such a tournament; and of the two, A. the better player by an average of three victories to two defeats when he meets B. A. and B. might eventually walk roughshod over their other opponents, each of the two winning an equal score as against the rest of the field. When the two met, the contest between them would virtually be decided by the two games which they played against each other; and as to that, though the chances theoretically should be 3 to 2 on A., it might easily occur that the odds should be upset, and that A. should score only a defeat and a draw to B.’s win and a draw. In no case could the real average 3 to 2 ratio of merit between them be disclosed by the result of two games only. If A. were, per contra, to win one game and draw the other, it would not follow that his real superiority, as against B. was represented by the figures 3/2:1/2. However; though a stand-up match is a more decisive test of the powers of any two players, and though the player who in matches can hold his own against all comers is perhaps entitled to even greater honour than the winning of such a tournament could ever confer upon him, none

the less must a victory in the meeting now progressing be one which would bear an almost national aspect. We can recollect the pride with which the English chess world welcomed the return of Mr. Blackburne last year after that gentleman had won the Berlin tournament, in which Herr Zukertort, a domiciled foreigner, and who had recently defeated Mr. Blackburne in a match—had, for once, to put up with second place. This year a special interest attaches to the tournament at Vienna, on account of the unusually representative nature of the entries. Not only has Capt. Mackenzie, the leading American player, joined the combatants, but also Herr Steinitz of this country—a player who has directly or indirectly beaten in matches every one of the entries, with the exception of Capt. Mackenzie, with whom no such very direct line has been given. Herr Steinitz has rather rested on his laurels since he decisively defeated Herr Zukertort and Mr. Blackburne respectively in matches some few years ago, and has not taken part in any of the more recent Continental tournaments until this present occasion. It may be remembered that in the spring of this year negotiations were current between him and Herr Zukertort for a match; but the shortness of the time then intervening before this Vienna gathering induced the challenger (Herr Zukertort) to decline to play at the date proposed by Herr Steinitz, though it was left an open question whether a match (as further proposed by Herr Steinitz) should not be made thereafter for the autumn. To the chess world a series of games such as are now progressing lends special interest; the standard openings are so well known to chess players, and so fully analyzed by writers on chess, that an occasion such as this, which may disclose some new moves in particular situations, is eagerly looked forward to. A leading player, who contemplates competing in a contest of this sort, and who has discovered some departure from or variety in a stereotyped opening, which appears (at all events, till analysis may have disclosed a satisfactory answer to the innovation) to lend an advantage to the innovator, is likely to keep his discovery to himself until he can utilize it with advantage; and in a tournament of this sort many latent devices and discoveries in old situations may be expected suddenly to come to the surface. Most students of chess know, for instance, that the once so formidable Muzio gambit has been for many years past regarded as too hazardous for the first player, provided his adversary follows the now well-analyzed line of defence; hence the chess world was rather astonished when, at Berlin last season, Herr Winawer, against an opponent so redoubtable as Herr Zukertort, dared to open with this attack. It was surmised that he had some coup in reserve in the shape of a novel phase of carrying on the attack; and his wary opponent evidently guessed the same, for he was careful to avoid the more stereotyped defence, lest he should offer opportunity for Herr Winawer to exercise his suspected novelty; and, after adopting a more precarious line of defence as a matter of

Appendix V: Leaving The Field, 1882 precaution for the occasion, he managed to escape with a drawn game. For all that we know, Herr Winawer’s bottled thunderbolt may still be waiting its opportunity to be launched; and not only this, but many another new artifice truly reward the chess player who shall peruse the records of moves in the many tournament games which will shortly be figuring in our own and other chess columns.

The Field, LX (1 July 1882), pages 1–2 THE VIENNA CHESS TOURNAMENT. THE REMARKS which we published a few weeks ago in these columns upon the utter and unaccountable apathy with which the greatest chess contest of the age was being treated by our contemporaries, seem to have had some effect in calling attention to its proceedings towards its later stages, and in inducing some of our daily contemporaries to afford the public intelligence as to the daily progress of the score in the last round. A more exciting finish to a contest in any branch of sport has seldom if ever been seen before. To use a racing term, a sheet would have covered the six placed competitors, and, up to the moment of passing the post, victory hung in the scale to the very last. Up to two days before the end, the state of the score of the six leaders was such, that it was practically on the cards for the first of them to be last and the last first. It says much for the honourable spirit in which the competitors contended against each other, that there was not even a ghost of innuendo or suspicion that anyone played into the hands of anyone else, or failed to do his best in each game to the very last. With prizes so valuable, there must have been ample inducements, and also facilities, for a player who felt that his own chance of being “placed” had departed, to sell himself and his powers to some one who was still to the fore in the running, and who might be willing to guarantee a slice of the spoil if the other would, by deliberately failing to do his best, enable the leader to score a certain and safe point instead of putting up with a draw or even a cipher. E.g., suppose when Herren Weiss and Winawer met for the second time the former had agreed privately to do nothing worse than make one bad move or two early in the game, so as to secure the other a safe advantage and palpably won game. He might, after this one wilful blunder, have done his best to no purpose. The game would have been gone, and Herr Winawer would have scored a whole instead of only half a point against him, and so would have won the first prize. That no such tactics were attempted by anyone reflects a credit upon professional chess to which full justice should be done. It is far easier to do a piece of “roping” in chess undetected than in any other contest, unless in cricket; and when we reflect that in turns rowing, cricket, and pedestrianism have all of late been the subjects of ugly suspicions, or even worse, the purity of purpose and of play which is disclosed by the Vienna contest is the more gratifying, and

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reflects the highest credit upon the game of chess as a profession. As to the actual result, we can, without personal vanity, afford to pay our own special chess contributor a compliment upon his position as a dead-heater for the first prize; more especially if the handicap under which he laboured, compared to his opponents, is fully estimated. To compile a weekly report of the doings of the tournament, with sketches of several games and analyses of others, such as has weekly figured in our columns, must have surely entailed labour equal at least to two or three games in the week, played when all other opponents were resting and recuperating their brain powers for the morrow. Only those who have contended in a series of daily contests, whether of brain or of muscle, whether competitive examination, chess, or a prolonged athletic or aquatic competition, can appreciate the value of a complete rest, or the comparative burden of a prolongation of labour, at a time when rivals are off duty and at ease. The London chess talent has done itself much honour; for of the six “placed” competitors, all except one of the ties for first, and one of those for fourth place, hail from this metropolis. Again, the Anglo-Saxon element has distinguished itself; for, of the same six, three were born in this realm, although one (Mr. Mason) sojourned for an interim in the States, and another (Capt. Mackenzie) has taken up his abode across the Atlantic since he left Her Majesty’s service. It is instructive to compare the games of this and the Berlin tournament of last year with those of the Morphy era, and to note what a comparative distrust of gambits seems to have seized first players during the last few years. The defence seems to have in most gambits so far mastered the attack that such onslaughts are reckoned rather too hazardous for the most part, and in their place close games have greatly preponderated. A gambit often opens brilliantly on both sides, abounding with interesting and critical positions, for either player, and then as likely as not, when that crisis is past, settles down into a more humdrum and commonplace position than many a close game displays towards the 30th move. On the other hand, the close game, after lengthy manoeuvring for position and for the advantage of a pawn or two as a prelude to possible victory, often discloses suddenly some more or less sudden opportunity for a brilliant coup, which, better late than never, redeems and atones for the apparent dulness of the early manoeuvres, and offers a field for even greater skill in attack or defence than the more threadbare gambits. Such games as those of Mason v. Winawer, and Blackburne v. Winawer, both of which have been sketched in these columns, are examples of what we mean. It is, we believe, the local opinion of Vienna experts who have watched the tournament, that the most brilliant displays of acute perception of position have been made by the three Anglo-Saxon players first mentioned. On the other hand, the more persist-

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ently cautious generalship of Herr Steinitz (manoeuvring for position until he has cramped his adversary, and then pressing on steadily but relentlessly), and the kill or cure uncompromising tactics of Herr Winawer, while contrasting somewhat with each other and with the style of the other players just alluded to, have each vindicated their merits by the leading positions which they occupy at the close. We doubt whether we shall see again so many celebrities from all quarters of the chess world tilting against each other in our lifetime, unless some disinterested persons shall exert themselves hereafter to reproduce in London a contest such as that which the energy and liberality of Herr Kolisch have done so much to bring forth at Vienna.

The Field, LX (8 July 1882), page 52. Letter from James Mason THE CHESS WORLD. SIR,—Since my return to London from Vienna a day or two since, attention has been called to an article under this title appearing in the editorial columns of The Field dated May 20, in which, among others, I find the following statement: “Not only has Capt. Mackenzie, the leading American player, joined the combatants, but also Herr Steinitz of this country—a player who has directly or indirectly beaten in matches every one of the entries with the exception of Capt. Mackenzie, with whom no such very direct line has been given.” I trust I shall not be presuming too much on your sense of justice in supposing you will afford me an early opportunity of correcting the above, so far as it affects me, by inserting this note. Mr. Steinitz has no more beaten me (one of the entries referred to), either “directly” or “indirectly,” than he has beaten Capt. Mackenzie, or Moses, or Adam. Moreover, the result of our individual encounters in the Vienna Tourney proves him as incapable of beating me in the former way, as other transactions in the same tourney have shown him to be willing to do it in the latter. July 4. JAMES MASON

The Field, LX (8 July 1882), page 94. Letter from “Veritas” N.B. The identity of “Veritas,” is unknown. His letter was accompanied by a statistical table comparing the results of some players in recent international tournaments. THE CHESS WORLD. SIR,—A letter appears in your last issue from Mr. Mason, wherein he denies the assertion embodied in your article of May 20 under the above heading, that by direct or indirect play Mr. Steinitz had beaten all the entrants at the Vienna tournament. Now, Sir, I hold that Mr. Steinitz has beaten Mr. Mason “indirectly,” if by that I am to understand he has beaten men who have proved themselves superior to

Mr. Mason. The following facts will, I think, prove my statement. Since his arrival in this country, Mr. Mason has (as far as I can recollect) participated in four great tournaments, and has also played a match with Mr. Potter. This match ended in a draw. Mr. Steinitz has proved himself by actual play superior to Mr. Potter. In reference to the four great tournaments, I will avoid generalities, and take the very pertinent test of Mr. Mason’s score in these tournaments with the four other prize winners at Vienna—Messrs. Winawer, Mackenzie, Zukertort, and Blackburne. A comparison with these great players, all of whom Mr. Steinitz has directly defeated, will carry convincing proof with it. The following table shows Mr. Mason’s score with these four players in the four tournaments in which he has taken part. … By the above list it will be seen that (with the exception of Mr. Blackburne) Mr. Mason has lost a majority to these players individually and collectively. Considering that, as before stated, Mr. Steinitz has defeated all these players (some of them most decisively, in great matches), your readers will, I hope, accept this crucial test as undeniable, although only indirect, proof of the superiority of Mr. Steinitz over Mr. Mason. VERITAS

To which the Editor appended a note saying: “In justice to Mr. Steinitz, and in his absence, we may state that he had nothing whatever to do with the writing of the article referred to.”

The Field, LX (22 July 1882), page 133 (two letters) CHESS WORLD. Aussee, Styria, July 15, 1882. SIR,—In answer to Mr. Mason’s letter, appearing in your issue of the 8th inst, permit me, first of all, to state that I am in no way responsible for the editorial leader in The Field of May 20. I may add that, owing to the pressure of literary work, combined with my engagement in the tournament, I had to content myself, on receiving the numbers of The Field in Vienna, with cutting out the chess columns for the purpose of reference, without reading any other part and, at the time of writing this I have, therefore, no other knowledge of the article in question beyond the passage quoted by Mr. Mason. But, as it was evidently the intention of the author to state that at the commencement of the tournament my chess record stood superior to that of any other competitor, either by direct or cross-play, I think it only fair to uphold his assertion, even in reference to Mr. Mason, notwithstanding the latter’s denial. For that purpose I need only point to

Appendix V: Leaving The Field, 1882 Mr. Mason’s relative position in the international tournaments of Paris, Wiesbaden, and Berlin in comparison to that of Messrs. Blackburne and Zukertort. Without questioning the delicacy of the compliment paid to Capt. Mackenzie, as well as to Messrs. Adam and Moses, with whom Mr. Mason apparently wishes to be placed on a level, I may, perhaps also give a similar reference, at least to Capt. Mackenzie’s position in the Paris tournament of 1878, in which he stood fourth, while Mr. Zukertort came out first and Mr. Blackburne third. This ought to be enough to show that your leading article did not deserve a contradiction, as far as its reflection on the state of affairs before the tournament was concerned. As for Mr. Mason’s post factum deductions from the result of his individual encounters against myself (he actually made two draws), I need not repeat my views, already expressed in your columns, about the utter worthlessness of the personal score by itself as a test of relative strength in a general contest, especially where the drawn games count. Mr. Mason’s claim affords an illustrative instance. Whatever credit he may attach to his even result against me, apart from the general score, he shares it perfectly equally with Herr Englisch, and perhaps the balance of advantage will rest with Messrs. Blackburne, Hruby, Tschigorin, Wittek, and Ware, who have each beaten me one game. But for the general logical incoherence of Mr. Mason’s epistle, I would gladly subscribe fully to its last passage. My incapacity of beating him “directly” is about as clear as his obscure allusion to “other transactions in the same tourney.” I must only add that, unless events soon prove to the contrary, Mr. Mason’s boisterous declaration would only demonstrate to my mind his incapacity of offering himself for what I regard as the only true test of skill, viz., a single-handed real match against a player of acknowledged prime rank, for which purpose I should recommend him to try Mr. Zukertort, whose past chess historical record would, in my opinion, have still left his reputation above that of Mr. Mason, even if the latter had won the chief prize at Vienna. For my own part, I should certainly not evade a direct contest against Mr. Mason on fair terms, though I must confess that I would consider Mr. Zukertort a much worthier opponent, if only for the reason that he has beaten me this time in the personal encounter of the Vienna tournament, and that he has also defeated Mr. Mason decisively, both in the personal and general result at Paris, in the gross score at Berlin, and in the individual encounter at Vienna; apart from his having clearly proved in a set match his superiority over Mr. Potter, with whom Mr. Mason only succeeded to stand quite even in a long series of twenty-one games. W. STEINITZ SIR,—The point raised by your correspondent “Veritas,” as to whether or not Mr. Steinitz is a superior player to me,

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though no doubt interesting enough in its way, is but remotely, if at all, relevant to the question really at issue—the justice of making such a sweeping claim for any mortal as was made for him in the article named above. It is obvious that, if the theory of “indirect superiority” be once admitted, it may be shown with equal reason that Mr. Steinitz, or any other player with a tolerably good record, has in some way beaten every other player, past and present, and would have beaten those to come were they only here. For the tracing of “indirect lines” is limited only by the visual powers and peculiarities of the individual, together with simplicity of those idle enough to attempt to follow him in the process. My exception, or objection, was and is to the statement contained in the article, and quoted by me; and as the Vienna tourney was in future when that article was written, it follows that any fair discussion of the question now must deal with the status quo ante that meeting, and Mr. Steinitz’s triumphs, “direct” and “indirect,” therein. It was not a fact, then, that he had beaten all the entries, because—leaving myself and Capt. Mackenzie aside for the moment—he had never beaten Mr. Hruby in any real way whatever. And, I doubt not, there were others who could rightly treat any claim of his to superiority, based upon direct or indirect victories over them, as an absurdity. To come now to the point “Veritas” thinks he has so “convincingly proved.” It seems to me that he is a trifle too discriminating in his judgment, as well as needlessly severe in the logic on which he founds it. I, for one, am not inspired with his apparently implicit faith in the efficacy of arguments from history and statistics to convincingly prove anything— least of all what in the nature of things must be a simple matter of fact, admitting of no legitimate proof but by experiment. And when the statistics are limited, and the history ancient, what little confidence I may place in the same arguments gives way to absolute distrust. Opinions are opinions none the less when formulated by means of the numeration table; and, as the world moves, he is a logician indeed who would prefer indirect historical inferences to the actual and present evidence of his senses. The four great players cited have beaten me, so have forty others, perhaps not so great. But we must go back a decade or more to find where Mr. Steinitz has beaten them. And if we do go back, we shall find Mr. Steinitz himself beaten— and that by more than one of those players, and by others too numerous to mention. I played a match with Mr. Potter; it was only a draw, therefore, etc.—Mr. Steinitz having shown himself superior to Mr. Potter. On the other hand, I played a match with Mr. Bird, so did Mr. Steinitz; I beat Mr. Bird decisively by 11 to 4 and 4 draws, so did not Mr. Steinitz. He won by forfeit when the score stood 6 to 5 in his favour, according to Mr. Bird—7 to 5 according to Mr. Steinitz—and as many draws; therefore, etc. It is claimed Mr. Steinitz has beaten Mr. Paulsen, “indirectly.” Mr. Paulsen has beaten Mr.

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Kolisch directly in a match,* and Mr. Kolisch has beaten Mr. Steinitz. I have beaten Mr. Paulsen directly and indirectly; therefore, etc., and so on without end, and without sense as well. It is not for me to compare my record to that of Mr. Steinitz, a man whose career as a successful and renowned player may be said to be almost contemporaneous with my entire existence. There is no one who has a higher appreciation of his powers as a chess-player, or has more respect for him as all adversary, than I; but the line should be drawn somewhere, and directly. My notion of that “where” was so sufficiently well suggested in my first communication to you, that nothing more need be said in this. JAMES MASON

The Field, LX (22 July 1882), page 173 We have to apologize to our readers for the absence of our *Untrue: in 1861 Paulsen led Kolisch by one game in a long series when they agreed to call the match a draw.

usual annotated game, having received from Mr. Steinitz in lieu thereof a long letter, extending to fully a column, on the subject of a remark made in our leading article “The Chess World,” on May 20, and the correspondence resulting from it. We feel bound to close this correspondence, if only because the issue now raised by the disputants, Mr. Mason, “Veritas,” and Herr Steinitz, is irrelevant to our remark with which Mr. Mason joined issue, and which has led to the dispute. Mr. Mason has been seeking to show that in tournament play Herr Steinitz has established no superiority over him, direct or indirect; whereas our statement simply was that he (Mr. Steinitz) “has directly or indirectly beaten, in matches, Mr. Mason inter alios”; and this we believe to have been literally true—e.g., Steinitz beat Zukertort, Zukertort beat Potter, and Potter drew with Mason, all being matches. So far from drawing any line as to tournament play, we, in the same article, expressly stated our reasons for believing that tournament competition is less decisive of relative merit than match play.—ED.

Appendix VI: Steinitz’s Grievances (1883) This was written by Steinitz just before leaving for America, datelined 14 October, and published in the New York newspaper Turf, Field and Farm on 26 October 1883. It was his reply to an editorial in the September Chess-Monthly (volume 5, page 2) which can be found in Chapter 12, on pages 318–319 above. Parts of Steinitz’s article are quoted in the main chapters, where relevant, but this is the full text, except for the irrelevant and whimsical final paragraph. ON BOARD “ENGLAND,” Oct. 14, 1883. EDITORS TURF, FIELD AND FARM.—Just before my leaving London for the purpose of starting again on a visit to your hospitable country, which gave me such a generous reception last year, it was positively stated in London chess circles that Mr. Zukertort was going to undertake the journey to America around the same time. The matter was kept a profound secret in the London chess press and in the daily papers up to the date of my departure, but for what I know he may be on the way or may have arrived before me. If so, some contest between us will be sure to be proposed, and for my own part, I shall be provided with necessary stakes contributed for such an object by supporters in England, a fact, which, by the way, does not bear out the assertion of the Chess Monthly, that I am altogether without friends in that country. However, I am now obviously much restrained in my answer to that journal, by the possibility of meeting

Mr. Zukertort over the board. But lest it should be thought that I had no answer, I shall reply as briefly as possible, at least to the principal insinuating questions of the Chess Monthly, which as already remarked, involve a tale of over 20 years. Life is a fight, says Darwin, a maxim which does not altogether contradict its comparison by other philosophers with a game of chess. No doubt during a long public career I was inveigled outside the chess board into a series of simultaneous performances in which I had to struggle for the most part single-handed against press combinations, club intrigues and private cabals. No doubt I found more numerous and ready opponents in that kind of game than over the board, but somehow I had early discovered that the battle of life, like the game of chess, is best fought in principles, free from all deception and trickery, and consequently if the history of my private contests were fully written (perhaps I shall

Appendix VI: Steinitz’s Grievances (1883) write it one day), it will be found that I made an excellent score, certainly better in comparison, and on the whole, than any one of my adversaries. Now, in answer to my charge of the appointment of dishonest officials and of deliberate annoyance and hostility on the part of the recent London Chess Congress, the Chess Monthly, without entering in the least on the subject of my complaint, issues a sort of recriminating cross-examination, suggesting a series of social defeats and convictions which I am supposed to have suffered years ago; but somehow they carefully avoid giving the slightest hint of the fearful crimes for which, according to their account, I was subjected to dreadful penalties. Why do they not in their indictment recount the enormities which I must have committed? After the manner in which the editors deal with matters of recent occurrence, it will scarcely be necessary to assure your readers, that their questions in reference to incidents which happened years ago, are more insinuating than based on strict truth. But until I shall have an opportunity of entering into full details, it may be sufficient to give the following brief review of their terrible cross-examination which seems to form their bulletin of grand victories, gained over me, outside of the chess board, by an unscrupulous London clique. First, Westminster Chess Club, 1866 [sic]. It is not true that I was “compelled” to resign. In an altercation with the late Mr. Staunton, who had treated me no better than he did poor Morphy, I had used strong language, which I still opine was well deserved. A lawyer, a member of the managing committee, who professed to act as my friend and a gentleman, deliberately gave me false advice and persuaded me to resign. Fearful to say I fell into the trap and subjected myself to misconstructions and misinterpretations which I was sensitive enough to feel bitterly at the time, but which somehow I survived for 17 years. But why was that very lawyer, of whose conduct in the matter I publicly complained at the meeting of the British Chess Association in 1868, why was he 17 years afterward, even without his knowledge or consent, elected a member of the Playing Committee in the London Chess Congress of 1883? Secondly, City of London Chess Club, 1875. There was a free fight on the question whether the honorary members who had served on the committee for six years, and who merely devoted their time and labor to the club, but did not contribute the magnificent subscription of five shillings per annum, should be, order de Mufti, disqualified for the future. I could easily have transformed myself into a paying member, but preferred to fight against the shabby motion with Blackburne, Zukertort and others on my side. Being the chief of “the party” a thundering vote of censure was drawn over my head at a packed committee meeting without previous notice. The “doctor champion” has a splendid memory, and it must therefore be his partner’s fault if the readers of the Chess Monthly are not informed that at the next committee

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meeting it was resolved almost unanimously, and with only two dissenting votes, that this fearful vote of censure should be fully rescinded and expunged from the minutes. But by a similar coincidence, however, no less than five members of that committee, including the two dissentients who had voted for the original resolution, were eight years afterward elected members of the Managing Committee of the London Chess Congress of 1883. Thirdly, the Divan, 1877. There is something essentially wrong about the description of the ground on which one of the sanguine battles in the campaign under the board was fought. The Divan is not a club and has no elected “members” as is led to believe. It is what is called in England a licensed house for the sale of liquors in connection with a dining room, a cigar shop and a smoking or reading room devoted also to chess. All parts are open to the public, with the slight restriction in reference to the chess room, which is reserved for customers who dine in the establishment or who pay a small entrance or a subscription varying according to its term. The rule is not rigorously enforced, and all the professionals in London as well as some so-called amateurs, are on the free list. Such was in reality the stage where the shocking drama was enacted in which I can only give you the bare outlines, for the plot is too complicated with details. In a private conversation I was “drawn out,” to use some unparliamentary language about an individual who had persecuted me for years in four different newspapers. I regret to say that I used the language in his absence, for I certainly ought to have used it to his face; but I amended matters in that respect some months later on another part of the stage, namely the cigar shop of that establishment. The outraged individual was co-proprietor of a monthly chess and gambling journal, of which, by the way, Mr. Zukertort was the innocent game editor. By the same sort of accident the other proprietor of that monthly chesspool happened to be the solicitor of the Divan company, and horribile dictu, to use the expression of the Chess Monthly, I was “not admitted,” which practically meant that I was to be removed from the freelist, never to enter again the happy institution with an empty stomach, for I was either bound to dine at or to offer a subscription to the establishment before I could establish for myself a legal claim of admission. Mirabile dictu “some members” (perhaps there were more than “some”) “petitioned.” I certainly did not, but refused to set my foot into that place until the matter was, strange to say, settled in a perfectly honourable manner, through the intervention of the chief editor of the Field. But why was he (Steinitz) not immediately expelled from the St. George’s, the University Chess Club, of Oxford, and Cambridge, and several other chess clubs in England of which he was an honorary member? Why was he not at once discharged from the Field and Figaro, and the future “doctor

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champion,” or some other member of the Literary Long Firm, appointed in his place? The history of the Chess Monthly does not answer. Perhaps that was never intended, and the appointment on the Field was generously allowed to be kept warm by Steinitz for Mr. Zukertort’s partner until the former resigned six years later. But why, on the contrary, was there an editorial crisis at the Sporting and Dramatic News and Land and Water within a few months after the curtain had fallen over the Divan tragedy? Why did the victorious hero of that drama, in spite of his partnership with the solicitor of the company, withdraw on the hind legs of his dignity from the attendance at the ancient chess sanctuary for six years to follow? Read the answer in the London Figaro of October and November 1877. Fourthly, a list is given of names of more or less professional rivals (if I may include such impostors as Hoffer and Duffy under that designation), who have ostracized me by not being “on speaking terms” with me, It would involve separate long tales to give a full answer, and that, no doubt, is the true motive of the Chess Monthly in putting the question. But why do they not state the grievance of a single one of this terrible “not speaking” phalanx of enemies? If they now ask whether I alone am “right and the whole of the chess community wrong,” my answer is that I was certainly the only one “of the whole of the chess community,” as the clique styles itself, who at any rate always wished to be right. I charge the whole lot of names flaunted before me, one and all, with deliberate, underhand conspiracy to annoy, injure and defraud of his private and public character the only man

in the chess profession who set the sense of duty above socalled private policy. And yet I defy the whole lot, individually and collectively, to show a single instance in a public career of over twenty years, in which I, for my part, have acted deliberately unjustly or in any manner, which to the best of my judgment, rightly or wrongly, did not honestly advance the public interest in the first place. I think their complete silence on that subject and their paltry allusion to my “peace-loving temperament,” show sufficiently that they cannot attribute to me any dishonourable action. “Caesar” (why not call him Bohemian Caesar as in the good old times of the Westminster Papers?) “evidently wanted to be dictator.” It would be more the truth that Caesar was a sort of prisoner. But while in literary captivity he promised to hang up the editorial pirates of the public and private reputation on the gallows of public contempt—and Caesar is as good as his word. But stay! There is a terrible crime to which Caesar ought to plead guilty. He has actually insinuated that Pompous Pompeius has learnt something since 1872. Really I thought that the tournament and match of that year had furnished Pompeius with one lesson, and the Vienna tournament of 1882 with another. But I shall cry Pater peccavi and gladly acknowledge the doctor champion as my master when he will have defeated me by the test of strength, which in the times of Philidor, Labourdonnais, Staunton, and Morphy was recognized as the only valid one, viz.: an honest singlehanded match. At present he has not even equalized his tournament score with mine, for since when does the last tournament, any more than the last game, constitute a majority?

Appendix VII: Steinitz Hits Back— Extracts from His International Chess Magazine Column He introduced the column on page 16 of the first, January 1885, issue, saying he would drop the plural and address the reader in the first person: “This is a more cordial form and better suited for many purposes.” This appendix is concerned with Steinitz’s time in London. There was nothing very controversial until the March number when he took aim against Hoffer and Potter.

Volume 1 (1885), No. 3 (March), pages 82–83 Once, in an animated discussion on politics, my opponent, being pressed hard, fancied he made a great hit by remarking to some bystanders: “he thinks he understands politics, because he can play chess.” “And you think,” I answered, “that you understand politics because you can’t play chess.” On similar credentials some chess critics actually claim a superior

authority on the game. This is laughable, but there are also some charlatans who have never had even the honor to fail, and who pose as analytical masters because they never tried critical conclusions over the board. Such imposters, activated merely by personal spite, have attempted systematically to detract the modern progress of our game. But it is ludicrous to see the miserable bungling into which they drift when they endeavour to produce any scientific proof for their dicta.

Appendix VII: Steinitz Hits Back A mishap of that sort occurred to Zukertort’s sleeping partner in the London Chess Monthly who, in the absence of his master, and throwing all the claims even of his associé overboard, proclaimed the “towering superiority” of Morphy for all times and ages. This was a grand diplomatic coup worthy of the Long Champs champion, who probably felt that he could not hide sufficiently his own nonentity behind Zukertort’s apron. … Some time back, a gentleman asked me what I thought of Potter’s analysis. Potterio is not a personage whom I greatly admire. In London chess politics he tried the experiment of bowing all around in the midst of a fighting crowd, and he looked quite astonished when he found himself alternately kicked in the rear by different parties. Then, in April (pages 111–112) he turned his attention to Zukertort, in connection with ongoing negotiations for The Match. Zukertort, of course, must of necessity have a handle to his name, but whether my umpire should speak of him as Herr, Mr., Dr., Champion, or as in the New York Herald Nov. 3d, 1885: “Captain and Umpire Zukertort,” is a question by no means as unimportant as might appear. For long before the London tournament…. I had unfortunately discovered … that the Doctor Champion had been at all times, even in 1872, more of a Champion than he ever was of a Doctor, and Zukertort, who did not appreciate the compliment, professed to treat the discovery as an invention. However, after the Vienna tournament of 1882, a chess revolution broke out in London, and the universal chess republic was declared in the Chess Monthly. The opportunity for this outbreak was given by my having abdicated in early August, or rather kicked off with contempt a critical throne of a London journal, the possession of which had been the cause of much jealousy, discontent and intrigue for years. A literary grasshopper, who had crawled up from behind, sprang on the chair, which replaced the vacant throne in the Field, and immediately rewarded the champion of the future with the Dr. diploma for his diplomatic services in the communistic chess campaign. In plain language, I had in my writings withheld Zukertort’s prefix for years in the interest of truth in the first place, and for reasons, not of my own alone at any rate, which I cannot detail now at length. But when Zukertort was Doctored all round, and his big title cropped up impudently, first of all in small type, and then frequently in large letters in the very paper I had edited, I thought it a reflection on my veracity and a suggestion of envy on my part, and on taking up again chess criticism as correspondent of Turf, Field and Farm, I offered an explanation, which I gave as delicately as I possibly could under the circumstances, but of course in strict accordance with the truth. Since then, however, the clerical fou of the Sporting and Dramatic News in London

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has openly, or rather cynically, admitted that the Doctor title was “assigned, or rather restored to Zukertort by English friends,” or in other words, that it was manufactured in England for certain personal purposes, which I can assure the readers did not affect me alone. … I shall ask my second to send along with his reply a perfectly respectful protest against the assumption of the Dr. title by Zukertort … adding, however, that I am prepared to offer a public and unqualified apology to Dr. Zukertort, if he will produce his diploma to a tribunal of gentlemen, and give satisfactory reasons why his Dr. title did not appear in the official lists in six international tournaments, in which he participated, namely those of London, 1872; Leipzig, 1877; Paris, 1878; Berlin, 1881; and Vienna, 1882; while on various of those occasions such a prefix was officially given to some of his fellow competitors, like Doctors Schwarz, Knorre, Schmidt, Meitner, etc. After this an “armistice” with Zukertort was declared for some time in order not to jeopardize the negotiations for the World Championship match with Zukertort and then during the match itself. The only amusing reference to a British-based player was on page 208 in the July issue, where Steinitz alluded to Mason’s tendency to get drunk: … Mr. Mason when he descends from the heights of his obfuscated philosophy into the sober region of facts, has, so to speak, “no leg to stand upon,” which, of course, does not matter much to Mr. Mason, who is notoriously rather familiar with that sensation, outside of chess controversy. There are no relevant quotable items in Volume 2 and 3, where “Personal and General” tends to be short and mostly concerned with discussions about the match.

Volume 4 (1888) In January, as referred to in Chapter 11, Steinitz began a long-running verbal battle with James D. Séguin, chess editor of the New Orleans Times Democrat. Part of his reply (on page 11) included paragraphs from his 1883 article for Turf, Field and Farm that can be found in Appendix VI. Steinitz defended himself against new allegations in The Chess-Monthly and elsewhere, saying: I defy the whole lot, individually and collectively, to show a single instance in a public career of over 20 years in which I, for my part, have acted deliberately unjustly, or in any manner which, to the best of my judgment, rightly or wrongly, did not honestly advance the public interest in the first place. I think their complete silence on that subject, and their paltry allusion to my “peace-loving temperament,” show sufficiently that they cannot attribute to me any dishonourable action. On the implication that Steinitz had been forced to resign his Honorary membership of the St. George’s Chess Club in 1883 (a fate that had befallen him in New York), Steinitz responded that when he had resigned:

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Appendix VII: Steinitz Hits Back

The committee of the St. George’s Chess Club behaved most admirably in reference to my resignation. They sent me, at parting, a very handsome letter, which, I believe, I can quote quite verbatim from memory, owing to its curt courtesy, not having had time to hunt up the original from a mass of old papers…. “My Dear Sir: The Committee of the St. George’s Chess Club desire me to express their regret that you should cease to be, at your own wish, an honorary member of their society.” It may, perhaps, be also taken as some indication that there is not much ill feeling against me among the members of that society, if I state the fact that the St. George’s Chess Club belongs to my direct subscribers, along with a considerable number of the most prominent Chess clubs in England. In the February issue, starting on page 43, Steinitz rebutted allegations that in the Paris 1867 tournament, Steinitz had protested against the late entry of Kolisch. Now let me tell you that this exactly the reverse of the truth, and as a matter of fact it was I alone who helped him to enter that tournament after he had completely forfeited his right of entrance according to the rules. On page 44, Steinitz referred to his short-lived 1883 column in Ashore or Afloat about which allegations had apparently been made. The latest writer on the subject may have been misled by an editorial announcement in that journal which attempted to make a scapegoat of me, and which I did not consider worthwhile to “contradict” at the time. But I must say that the writer in question might have easily guessed at the real truth from the fact that Ashore or Afloat collapsed completely within a few months after I left that paper. It was always in financial difficulties which the proprietors tried to conceal and I resigned my Chess editorship just before my second departure to this continent, owing to a breach of agreement involving distinct stipulations in reference to my editorial authority, but also a failure of that journal to fulfil its monetary engagements toward myself. After the death of Flora, Steinitz seemed to lose all restraint and his Personal and General column mutated into a series called “A Literary Steinitz Gambit” consisting almost entirely of personal attacks on Séguin and Hoffer. In the August number (page 236) he repeated some of what he had said five years earlier in Turf, Field and Farm about the Divan crisis of 1877 and the “Ink War” associated with it. In the meantime, Duffy had died on 17 April 1888. Now on page 237 Steinitz wrote: The individual whom you describe as “a most esteemed gentleman of the London press” is dead now, but some of his “coadjutors” are still alive, and they at least, if not many others (were it true, as you allege, that he had all but friends) ought to defend his memory … when I state, that he was nothing more than a raw, blackguardly, scurrilous Chess im-

postor, whose writings have left hardly more than an indelible blot on English Chess literature. His name is not worth mentioning, for he was neither distinguished as a player nor as a composer, but he was all the more malignant for this very reason of his manifest inferiority. It was he, who first attempted the role among English Chess players of passing himself off as an amateur among professionals and as a professional among amateurs…. It was he, who after obtaining the editorship of several influential newspapers through his connection with theatrical and journalistic circles, assailed the best masters of the day with the coarsest invectives and with downright false statements of facts. It was he, who inaugurated a sort of patriotic crusade especially against the non–English Chess magnates to whom he constantly applied such expressions as the “foreign shilling-hunters,” etc. In the November number (page 342) Steinitz returned to the question of his resignation from the St. George’s. He denied that he had “stood in danger of expulsion” and gave further explanations of what had happened at the London tournament. As discussed in Chapter 12, it has not been possible to identify conclusively the person (said to be no longer alive) whom Steinitz was accusing. I beg to point out that I charged with absolute dishonesty only one of their members who was also on the Congress Committee, while I regarded others as mere foolish dupes of a party which had been gathered outside of the St. George’s Chess Club for hostile purposes. And as you are anxious about my past history I may tell you further, that this member of the St. George’s Chess Club whom I charged with absolute dishonesty (he is dead now and what I state can do him no harm…) had been smuggled into that society albeit that he was nothing else, to speak out straight than an exthief, who had run away with the money of his employer some years before. This fact was well-known to L.C.C. [Hoffer] and at least one other of his fellow committee-men, in the Congress, but neither of the latter two were members of the St. George’s Chess Club. And this ex-thief was naturally my enemy, in the first place by instinct like all thieves, editorial or otherwise; and in the next place because he well knew that I knew him to be a thief. It was therefore no more than natural that he should have joined a parcel of enemies who had been packed together on the Congress committee for the purpose of worrying and annoying me, though he was the only member of the St. George’s Chess Club whom I could accuse of any deliberate hostility. In the December 1888 number, starting on page 366, Steinitz first introduced the abusive term Dreckseele (“Filth-Soul”) by which he henceforth addressed his arch-enemy Hoffer. (In reply Hoffer referred to Steinitz as “Quasimodo.”) His name is L. Hoffer…. I must really apologize to him for having withheld from publicity his most honorable prefix or affix, which has been accorded to him by old Horwitz in

Appendix VIII: Bird on Steinitz (1890) several letters addressed to me, including one written three days before his death. The predicate of merit, which most probably our patient is so very anxious for me to pronounce to the world is: “Dreckseele”…. Old Horwitz, who was probably the most gentle and good-natured Chess master that ever graced our royal pastime, had, as far as I am aware, no direct complaint against “Dreckseele,” but merely came to the conclusion of awarding to him the title of “Dreckseele,” from his observations at a distance (for he disdained even speaking to him in his latter years) of “Dreckseele’s” doings and behavior towards others. While this author could continue in this vein, perhaps the above is sufficient. A sample from Volume 5, taken from pages 332–333 of the November 1889 International Chess Magazine, may be found at the Chess Notes website. It deals with Steinitz’s unproven accusations that he was physically attacked by Blackburne, once in 1867 and the second time during the 1878 Paris tournament. Here are just two paragraphs. Here is my version, Dreckseele. Blackburne suffered some 22 or respectively 11 years ago even more frequently from fits of blackguardism on the J.Y. Dreck principle, which you and all your Dreck chums worship, than he does now. And on one occasion at Purssell’s about 1867, in a dispute between us, he struck with his full fist into my eye, which he blackened and might have knocked out. And though he is a powerful man of very nearly twice my size, who might have killed me with a few such strokes, I am proud to say that I had the

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courage of attempting to spit into his face, and only wish I had succeeded, Dreckseele. And on the second occasion, in Paris, we occupied adjoining rooms at the same hotel, and I was already in bed undressed when he came home drunk and began to quarrel, and after a few words he pounced upon me and hammered at my face and eyes with fullest force about a dozen blows, until the bedcloth and my nightshirt were covered with blood. But at last I had the good fortune to release myself from his drunken grip, and I broke the window pane with his head, which sobered him down a little. And you know well enough too, Dreckseele, if any confirmation of anything I say were needed, that the same heroic Blackburne performed a similar act of bravery on a sickly young man, Mr. Israel, who died some years afterward, and whom he publicly gave a black eye at Purssell’s during his first match with Gunsberg. And you also know, Dreckseele, that this gallant Blackburne struck in a similar manner, publicly, in the City of London Chess Club, the secretary, Mr. Walker, as nice a little gentleman as I ever met, who was even a head and shoulder shorter in stature than myself, and who has also, I am sorry to learn, died since. And I may tell you, moreover, Dreckseele, that this brave Blackburne whose blackguardly fisticuff performances you want to glorify at my expense, has never to my knowledge struck a man of his own size, unless it were in the case of an assault on board ship, during his journey to Australia, for which he was fined £10 at the police court, on his landing at Melbourne….

Appendix VIII: Bird on Steinitz (1890) This, a response to the first part of The Modern Chess Instructor, was intended by Bird to be the first of a series of reviews but no more were published. Some short passages from this have been quoted in Chapters 2 and 5. The short extracts that appear in this Appendix are only about a sixth of the full text, omitting most footnotes and Bird’s detailed criticisms of Steinitz’s analysis. More about this may be found on page 439 of Renette’s biography. This author is grateful to him for supplying a photocopy of the whole of this rare document, which is available at Harvard College Library; a few parts were illegible. The first instalment of W. Steinitz’s work has just [reached?] us, and a glance at it at once suggests the natural and inevitable conclusion that it must be followed by several others … for this deals only with about one tenth part of the well known and recognized Openings at Chess…. That a disquisition on the art of Chess play, and modes of commencing the game, from such a consummate master,

should be looked forward to as likely to furnish a work of the most reliable and complete character, and of unprecedented value in the history of Chess, is but the natural consequence of the abilities and great name of the author, who enjoys a reputation for powers of patient and laborious analysis probably never acquired by any previous exponent or writer on the game. For a little over a quarter of a century

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Appendix VIII: Bird on Steinitz (1890)

Steinitz has been, at the slow time limit sanctioned by the practice and usage of his time, the most successful exponent; and the anticipations aroused may not be deemed at all unreasonable. His pre-eminency at Business Chess, as distinguished from Recreationary and Amusement Chess, which he always avoids, is frankly and unequivocally admitted by the half-a-dozen players closest to him in this respect. By Amusement Chess we need scarcely say we mean Chess of the day or the evening, limited to an hour or two each game; such Chess, in short, as the ordinary mortal seeking recreation cares for or can find time to play. No offering upon the subject of Chess, ever heard of in the history of the game, has ever been paraded before the public for so long, and with such pretensions, as this one just issued by Mr. Steinitz. Some new and startling information was to be given to us which should cause all recollections of Greco’s brilliancies to fade away … the hundreds of editions of Chess works produced by the most eminent publishers in the first and second quarters of this century … all in fact, past and present, and particularly his contemporaries, were to sink into utter insignificance when compared with the prodigious standard production of the great W. S. Many of us can remember the exultation with which, during several months in 1876, Mr. Steinitz, with some assistance, took upon himself the task (duty, he is wont to call it) of reviewing the very admirable work of that accomplished Chess amateur and scholar—and most amiable gentleman— the late Mr. R. B. Wormald of Oxford…. A slight skim over the first two pages of the review sufficed to convince me and others at the time that Steinitz was going for the man, who he thought had snubbed him, rather than for the book, which, moreover is still held in great estimation by the wise in Chess. The extreme venom and malignancy of his remarks, many of which were based on imperfect knowledge, error, or misapprehension, created a very painful impression at the time, upon the good English fellows in Chess, which has not, to this day, been entirely obliterated…. Although the attitude assumed by the author towards British Chess, to which he owes so much, together with the presumptuous tone of his work, and the spirit of his criticisms [may seem to justify indignation] … I have no desire

to emulate either the minuteness, style, or pretensions of his analysis, or the known bitterness of his criticisms when opportunity calls them into play…. I have known Mr. Steinitz since his first arrival in 1862, when I had been four years out of the active Chess circle, and was the first strong player, either amateur or professional, who encountered him. Without dwelling more on the incidents of those days it may at least be said that I did more to help Steinitz forward, and to popularize his Chess, than any other person did, or at that time well could do. This fact he has long recognized…. Again, in 1866, there can be no doubt that the support which we all continued to accord him, and the extraordinary liberality of Mr. Forster, Mr. Hewitt, and others, in assisting to promote his match with Anderssen, was of incalculable advantage to him. After [the Anderssen match and Bird’s own match], even at this early period, Steinitz’s love of self-assertion began to disclose itself, but the true Chess feeling of Mr. Staunton and the Rev. G. A. MacDonnell, and their great and deserved influence did much, and not altogether without success, to keep it within decorous and proper limits. My intention, however, is to rather to say a few words about Steinitz’s Chess criticisms, his Chess book, and his analysis, and not about his personality, his manners, or his amiability; and even for this digression I crave indulgence, though some strictures are quite warranted if not altogether called for by existing circumstances. Coming now exclusively to the book itself … it is rather with regret that I cannot give the unqualified approbation I could have wished to this Chess production of the nineteenth century…. In a word I am greatly disappointed with the work…. When I notice the anti–English tendency of this work…. I am tempted to strike out the word Mr. all through when applied to Steinitz, and restore him to his native Herr. A punishment has been more than once suggested for Mr. Steinitz, almost too horrible to mention. Compared with which the atrocities and cruelties of the most barbarous times sink into utter significance, a sentence so dreadful that the mind shudders at the mention of it, a refinement of torture not pronounced till now—To remit him to his native country.

Appendix IX: MacDonnell on Steinitz (1894)

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Appendix IX: MacDonnell on Steinitz (1894) From the Rev. G. A. MacDonnell’s book The Knights and Kings of Chess (1894), pages 33–42. Mr. Steinitz must be ranked with the supreme masters of chess. Indeed, as a duellist he is a master among masters. As such, his record is only equalled by that of Paul Morphy; and in some respects it is even superior to the American’s. For, though Morphy beat his opponents with greater ease and by a larger proportion of games, yet Steinitz has conquered a larger number of champions and sustained his reputation throughout a longer period. If not the greatest general of his age, he is certainly—like Wellington—the most successful. And to what, it may be asked, is his success specially owing? To his profound belief in chess as a science, coupled with his equally profound belief in himself as the “grand monarque” [sic] of the game. On these points he used to say to me: Chess is the grand criterion of intellectual ability. Here is the proof that it is so. You never have but one great chess-player at a time, and when his light goes out, there is no other star to shine in his place. You talk to me of Prime Ministers and Lord Chancellors as the most supreme in intellect. What nonsense! Gladstone goes out of office, and half a dozen Salisburys are ready to take his place and worthily fill up the gap. Selborne leaves the woolsack, and Cairns, aye, and a dozen Cairnses, are ready to take their seats on it, and adorn it just as much as their predecessor. But the Chess-King vacates the throne, and there’s no second Steinitz to grasp the sceptre and wield it with true regal power.

Again, he would exclaim with intense earnestness, “Wait awhile, and not very long either, and the members of Her Majesty’s Government, one and all, will be selected from the leading chess-players of the country.” Holding such exaggerated notions as to the grandeur and importance of chess, no wonder that he devoted his abilities—which are considerable—almost exclusively to the study of chess and the winning of its kingship. He did not, like Morphy, leap at one bound to the throne, but reached it by slow degrees and laborious efforts. Steinitz’s chief, perhaps his finest, characteristic is pluck. It has a touch of the chivalrous in it. Thus, if he happens to be playing a match with a man known for his mastery and successful adoption of a certain opening, then Steinitz lets him play that opening; nor does he, if beaten, lose heart and fly at once to another début. Again, in matches, no matter what may be the score, he never gets demoralized or harbours the possibility of his ultimate defeat. Nothing succeeds like an assured belief in self-success. This belief Steinitz abundantly possesses. The motto on his crest is “I must win.” Other men may boast of their invincibility, Steinitz believes

in his. And this is indeed a faith that works miracles and overcomes adversaries. A peculiar point in his style is his always looking for the best move. The best absolutely, not relatively. The best in itself, not the best for the occasion. Whether he is playing a serious or an off-hand game, on even terms or at odds, he always treats his opponent as his equal and makes his own moves as if expecting the best replies; which is absurd, because if you know that you are stronger—say, by a piece— than your opponent, you may conclude that in certain parts of the game he is weak, and will in time manifest his inferiority. The supreme odds-giver is he who discerns his adversary’s weak points and plays so as to avail himself of them. And his judgment is displayed in knowing when and how

William Steinitz as portrayed in MacDonnell’s book The Knights and Kings of Chess.

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Appendix IX: MacDonnell on Steinitz (1894)

far he may run risks. But Mr. Steinitz never varies his style. No matter who or what his opponent may be, the Austrian is always the same: hard, heavy, sound, Stonewall Steinitz in style; and this peculiarity cuts two ways—it injures and it benefits him. On the one hand it mars a style otherwise beautiful; on the other, by playing always fully up to the mark he strengthens his strength and keeps himself in ever-ready condition for match play. His weak point in chess is that he sees too much and takes too many moves into consideration; hence it is that in important contests he is apt to waste his time and fatigue his brains in deciding which course to adopt. He requires an hour for fifteen moves, where many another master would require not half that time. In complicated positions he may see the best move as quickly as any man, but he does not make it as quickly as some do. He sees the best move, probably, at a glance, but it is a long time before he recognizes it as the best. He is too hesitating—too fond of looking for a better move than that which strikes him at first as being the best. For it he labours with flashing eye and corrugated brow. Of course, when he fails to find a better, he contents himself with the best move—in short, he looks at a position much in the same way as an artist endowed with a quick eye for salient features regards a person whom he is called upon to portray. He considers and ponders over points which it is quite unnecessary to notice even for a moment. In justice, however, to this great player, it must be said that he invariably exercises a sound judgment, and arrives at a right issue in all, even the most complicated positions. The fact is, he lacks genius of the highest order for chess. The genius that consists in an infinite capacity for taking trouble he undoubtedly possesses, and perhaps to a larger extent than ever was possessed by any other player; but the intuitive faculty of discerning at a glance the best move, which so distinguished Paul Morphy, is wanting in Herr Steinitz; nor does he possess the gift that was Anderssen’s, and is Blackburne’s—the gift of painting beautiful pictures on the chess board when there is little or nothing there to suggest them. But, though, in my judgment, lacking supreme genius, yet Mr. Steinitz’s talents for chess are of a grand order. Perhaps they are even superior to genius. Moreover, no more conscientious artist ever existed. He always does his best. To himself, to his opponent, to chess, he is ever faithful. He spares no labour to perfect himself for the battle-field. He always treats his opponent as a possible equal, whilst chess is to him a temple wherein he worships with the keenest ardour and most profound reverence. In the open field and in fair fight he has won the greatest successes which it was possible for him to achieve, and never were successes more richly deserved. Mr. Steinitz is ambitious to shine as a writer, and when in this country affected the society of literary men. Now, undoubtedly he possesses no small talent for composition, and, considering that he was twenty-six years of age before he

learnt a word of English, it cannot be denied that his management of our language is by no means contemptible. But, regarding it from the highest standpoint, I must say that his diction is seldom happy and his sentences often clumsy; his meaning not always clear, and his idioms thoroughly Germanic. He loves adjectives and adores superlatives. He is a terrible poluphloisboioist.* Fond of controversy, he frequently indulges in it—is apt to mistake rudeness for independence, violence for strength, and name-calling for invective. He once called an adversary an “inky ruffian,” and fondly fancied that he had thereby immortalized himself in English literature. Well would it have been for his reputation and his happiness if he had never turned editor. Years ago he said to me, “Nothing would induce me to take charge of a chess column” and when I asked why, he replied, “Because I should be so fair in dispensing blame as well as praise that I should be sure to give offence and make enemies.” However, when offered a column in the Field, he accepted it, and conducted it for some time with fairness and decorum. His first false move was his attack on Wormald’s book on the openings. When he showed me the proof of his review, I at once condemned its tone, and advised him to omit personalities. But he declined to do so, and, the Field rejecting the article, he was fain to publish it in the City of London [Chess] Magazine, where its appearance caused much confusion, and led ultimately to the extinction of that journal. Of the article, suffice it here to say that it filled eight octavo pages, took Steinitz eight months to write, and took his friends eight years to forget! Mr. Steinitz is a warm-hearted man. He can love a friend, and a friend can love him. But his passions are apt to master him and transform him into a raging lion, and then, if you refuse to hearken to his ukase or bow down to his image, he prepares you for the lions’ den, or kindles up the fiery furnace. He is witty. Here is an instance of his wit. Some years ago I had a form of salutation with which I was wont to greet certain friends. It was—“Are you better?” This formula I often addressed to Steinitz, and his invariable reply was—“I am first-rate.” One day, however, he entered the divan, and, as was his custom of an afternoon, tramped down the whole length of the room, and gazed admiringly at himself in the mirror; then turning round he took stock of the company. Espying me seated about mid-way down the room, he wreathed his face into a smile and gaily advanced to salute me. Whilst shaking hands with him I exclaimed as usual, “Are you better?” Immediately he spluttered out a cachinnatory eruption, amidst which these terrible words smote *There was debate on the Chess Notes website about the meaning of the word poluphloisboioist which MacDonnell apparently coined from Greek. Michael Syngros suggested that it meant “a loud repeated noise which means nothing” (CN 7338 at http://www.chesshistory.com/winter/winter87.html on 30 October 2011).

Appendix IX: MacDonnell on Steinitz (1894) upon my ears: “Vel, I vas always better than you.” And then, amidst a roar of laughter, he betook himself once more to the mirror, no doubt to see how his face looked after this witty explosion. Socially, Mr. Steinitz is an autocrat, and his weaknesses as such he cannot repress, much less get rid of. No matter what he is saying, or doing, Steinitzism protrudes, colors his language and directs his actions. His tactics are the same in all things. They never vary; as he is in chess so he is in confabulations. On the chessboard he often extricates himself from difficulties and clears the road to victory by unexpectedly playing the king. And so in social circles—notably in controversies—when he would score a point or mate an adversary his favourite move is to play the king. This ofttimes wins the game but loses a friend. Steinitz can be epigrammatic. Thus, in a speech he made just after being naturalized in U.S.A., he exclaimed: “I would rather die in America than live in England.” Here is a specimen of his really practical humour. A friend of mine invited

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him to supper some years ago, and in the course of the evening they discussed political economy, of which his host was a distinguished professor. At last they touched upon the Malthusian theory. The usual arguments pro and con were trotted out, and both sides waxed warm over the contest. And thus did Steinitz wind up the discussion: “It’s all nonsense what they say. You tell me a poor man has no right to have a large family. You say his doing so is not honest, is a positive injury to his country, and to humanity. I tell you you are wrong, and I’ll prove it. My father was a poor man, a very poor man. My father was an honest man, a very honest man. Well, he had thirteen children, and I, Wilhelm Steinitz, the chess champion of the world, I am the THIRTEENTH!”* “Sir,” said the Professor, after relating this incident to me, “I never felt so dumfounded in my life. It was checkmate, and a very elegant one too.” *His father did have 13 children and Steinitz was his mother’s youngest, but as shown in Chapter 1 Steinitz was the ninth and then there were four halfsiblings by his stepmother.

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Chapter Notes Chapter 1 1. Kurt Landsberger, William Steinitz, Chess Champion. A Biography of the Bohemian Caesar (Jefferson: McFarland 1993). 2. Michael Ehn, “Der Junge Steinitz: Legenden und Wirklichkeiten,” in Karl, 1/2012, pages 10–17. Ehn enlarged upon this in a chapter about Steinitz in a subsequent book on Viennese chess, cited in note 23. 3. I.C.M., VII (April 1891), page 119. It is unclear whether the wrong year (1837 for 1836) was just a typographical error in Steinitz’s magazine; this author has not seen sources stating 16 May 1837 as his date of birth. 4. The first issue of Deutsches Wochenschach for 1892 had opened with a two-page biography of Steinitz, stating his date of birth as 18 May 1837. A letter sent in quickly by Neustadtl then appeared on page 83, pointing out that while Steinitz usually gave his birthday as 17 May, and they had printed 18 May, the correct date shown in Jewish birth records in Prague was 14 May. Niessen checked the record for himself several years ago and verified Neustadtl’s information. His findings appeared in Edward Winter’s Chess Notes website, CN 9200 (2 April 2015; http://www.chesshistory.com/winter/winter129.html). Niessen observed that Landsberger’s references to the Wochenschach and American Chess Magazine were inaccurate, and also that Landsberger did not appear certain that the 14th was correct, although he thought it the most probable date. 5. J. G. Cunningham, The Games in the Steinitz–Lasker Championship Match (London 1894), page 5; H. F. Cheshire (ed.), The Hastings Chess Tournament, 1895 (London 1896), page 348. Cunningham also gave the incorrect 17 May date in B.C.M., XII (1892), page 2, when previewing Steinitz’s second world title match against Chigorin. In that article he said that he first met Steinitz in 1882. 6. Alfred T. Camden Pratt (ed.), People of the Period: a collection of Biographies of Upwards of Six Thousand Living Celebrities (London: Neville Beeman, 1897, 2 vols.), II: 403–404. Pratt’s article was probably the main source for the shorter entry on Steinitz in Frederic Boase, Modern English Biography, supplement (London 1921), columns 613– 614, which also gives 17 May. Even Jeremy Gaige, Chess Personalia, page 406, hedged his bets by writing “17 [14?].” 7. Niessen informed us that Thorsch is the German form of her maiden surname, shown in the official conscription document; Torshova is the Czech form. Tim Harding, Eminent Victorian Chess Players (Jefferson: McFarland 2012) page 161, incorrectly stated Wolf Steinitz was the seventh child, because of a misreading of the list in Landsberger, pages 2–3, where two older siblings were numbered 12 and 13. 8. Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 4. 9. Landsberger, William Steinitz, pages 2–3. 10. Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 4. 11. L. Hoffer, “The Chess Masters of To-Day,” Fortnightly Review, XL: 240 (December 1886), pages 753–765; here, page 759. Hoffer said that Steinitz was “entirely ignorant of the felicity of a happy home,

he has also been treated by nature physically in a step-motherly manner. Shunned even by his playmates, Steinitz early acquired that acerbity of character for which he is notorious.” Since Hoffer was by then a bitter enemy of Steinitz, as explained later in the present work, his statements in this article require moderation. It should also be mentioned that Hoffer’s article was criticized generally in the London chess community for its biased assessments of other players. 12. Landsberger, William Steinitz, pages 9–10. 13. This discovery was made by Czech chess historian Jan Kalendovský and mentioned in Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 9, which provided no precise date or quotation. Searches in ANNO turned up what appears to be the paragraph Kalendovský had found. 14. Niessen’s findings about Steinitz’s conscriptions were published in Chess Notes as CN 9403 on 2 August 2015: http://www. chesshistory.com/winterwinter133.html. In June 2018 Niessen sent this author the original images on which his articles were based, with further comments. 15. Jacques Hannak, Michel Angelo des Schachspiels: ein geschictlicher Abriss zum 100. Geburtstag des ersten Schachweltmeisters Wilhelm Steinitz (Verlag der Wiener Schachzeitung 1936; Olms reprint, Zurich 1989), page 14 (second footnote), which mentions Goldrichgäßchen. Hannak was quoting from an article by Professor K. Zmatlik in Českolovenský Šach 5/1936. Landsberger (William Steinitz, pages 6–8) was possibly misled by Hannak. 16. Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 14. 17. Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 16 and pages 206–207. 18. Landsberger, William Steinitz, pages 21–22; Ehn, “Junge Steinitz,” pages 11–15; see also note 21. According to Wikipedia, Josef Popper was an uncle of the Viennese-born British philosopher Sir Karl Popper (1902–1994). 19. The Steinitz Papers, page 25, prints a letter of 30 June 1879 about a book by Popper which Steinitz lent to a staff member of the New York Public Library, perhaps in the hope they would buy a copy. Also in Steinitz Papers on pages 25–26 there is a letter of 1881 in which Steinitz asks his correspondent to pass on his best wishes to several people in Vienna “but particularly Popper.” Then on pages 259–261 there are letters from Popper including one to the second Mrs. Steinitz. 20. Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 27, refers to a “1900 article” by Steinitz, but The Steinitz Papers, page 261, clarifies that this is a reference to Steinitz’s 1900 pamphlet Capital, Labor and Charity. 21. Josef Popper-Lynkeus, Selbtsbiographie (Leipzig: Verlag Unesma 1917). Also the British Library has a third person biography: Adolf Gelber, Josef Popper-Lynkeus: Sein Leben und sein Werken (Vienna: Interterritorialer Verlag “Renaissance” 1923). Landsberger and Ehn cite a different work: Josef Popper-Lynkeus, Mein Leben und Werken: eine Selbtsdarstellung (Dresden: Carl Reissner 1924). This was published posthumously. 22. Hannak, Michel Angelo, page 15. 23. Michael Ehn, Geniales Schach im Wiener Kaffeehaus 1750–1918 (Vienna: Edition Steinbauer 2017).

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24. Hamppe’s dates are taken from Gaige; his title “Hofrat” is equivalent to Privy Councillor. Zavatarelli says Hamppe was retired by 1864. Hamppe had died, after several years of poor health, on 17 May 1876 in the Swiss health resort of Gersau and news of his passing was slow to reach the chess commentators. The death notice in the Schachzeitung (page 216) was extremely brief and no assessment of his career subsequently appeared there. 25. London Figaro, 2 August 1876. This followed a notice the previous weekend in The Field, which is quoted below. Steinitz wrote 1849 but Hamppe’s encounters with Löwenthal, which the article also mentions, actually took place in 1846 when Löwenthal, who was from Pesth in Hungary, spent much time traveling in Austria and Germany. 26. I.C.M., VI (January 1890), page 10. 27. In 1866 Löwenthal became a British citizen and Anglicized his forenames to John Jacob. His year of birth is doubtful; see the chapter about him in Harding, Eminent Victorians, for details. 28. Ernst Falkbeer, “Ein Schachspieler,” in the Neue Freie Presse, 30 December 1876—an important article in which incidentally the correct spelling Hamppe with double “p” was confirmed. 29. “Aus Steinitz’ Jugendzeit,” in Österreichische Schachrundschau, pages 2–5. The first paragraphs of page 2, presumably written by the magazine’s editor Dr. Thanhofer, said (at the foot of the first column) that the following sketch of early Viennese chess had been provided by Bachmann for the benefit of their readers. 30. The name is “Witholm” in Falkbeer’s obituary of Hamppe. 31. Bachmann, Pickard and others use the spelling “Jeney” while both spellings are seen in primary sources. Sometimes his birth year has been given as 1820. The biographical note on Jeney in Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, page 10, states “about 1820” for his birth year, citing Hirschbach’s Deutsche Schachzeitung of 1846, page 40, which said “Mr. Jenay is still a very young man.” 32. In the quoted paragraph from the Schachrundschau, some forenames have been added, and several names of lesser-known players, not known to be opponents of Steinitz, have been omitted. 33. Translations from German, unless otherwise stated, are by the author, aiming to convey the facts and general sense. 34. Ehn, Geniales Schach, page 29 and also page 324. This is the only chess café he locates on the Graben. Landsberger, Wilhelm Steinitz, pages 18–19, discusses the early days of the Vienna club. His chief source, according to a long note in his Bibliography on page 475, appears to have been an unpublished manuscript by E. Spitzenberger which probably does not survive. Presumably misled by this document, Landsberger incorrectly stated that the Café Rebhuhn was the “seat” of the Wiener Schachgesellschaft although chess certainly seems to have been played there, as discussed below. He also had its location wrong; it was not on the Graben except for a few years in the 18th century. From 1798 to the building’s demolition in 1880 the address of Café Rebhuhn was Goldschmiedgasse 8. Afterwards the café continued in a new building at the same place: https:// www.geschichtewiki.wien.gv.at/Caf%C3%A9_Rebhuhn (6 July 2019). 35. Here the English saying “lock, stock and barrel” is used to convey the sense of Falkbeer’s passage (“Sack und Pack”) indicating a complete change from one venue to another. 36. Ehn, Geniales Schach, page 56, gives the history of the silver café and the explanation of how it acquired the nickname: after a redecoration in 1824, “everything on the splendid first floor shone brightly.” 37. T. von Heydebrand und v.d. Lasa, “Chess-Play in Vienna,” in C.P.C., VII (1846), pages 404–406; see also pages 216–218 in the same volume. 38. Ehn, Geniales Schach, page 61. 39. Wiener Schachzeitung, I (January 1855), page 17. The September issue was the last published. Ehn comments that although the content was excellent (and only the high subscription price was criticized) it failed after nine months because of the lack of interest.

40. Ehn, Geniales Schach, pages 61–62. 41. Armin Friedmann, “Schach in Wien,” in Wiener Schachzeitung, II (December 1899), pages 189–192, here page 192. This was evidently one of the sources used by Bachmann for the 1925 Schachrundschau article, quoted above. 42. Der Humorist, 1 October 1857, found in the ANNO database. Ehn, Geniales Schach, page 80, says that the club began on 6 August 1857 with the official start on 1 October, but states no source for the former piece of information. The earlier date was presumably a meeting in the Kegel that decided to establish the club. 43. Ehn, Geniales Schach, page 80. 44. La Régence, III (1851), page 200. 45. Fabrizio Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch: The Life and Chess Career (Jefferson: McFarland 2015), pages 10–11. 46. Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, page 15. 47. Pickard, in his database only, assigned Deutsch the forenames “Samuel Martin” but we do not know on what evidence. In the Telegraf columns, an Alois Deutsch is mentioned a few times, as correspondent and problem composer. The Schachrundschau (page 3) refers to him as Geldwechsler (moneychanger) Deutsch with no forename. 48. Peter Anderberg, “Harrwitz Gegen Steinitz, Duell in Wien,” in Caissa: Zeitschrift für Schach und Brettspielgeschichte (1/2018), note 13 on page 20, citing an article “Anton Nowotny in der Sammlung Korschelt,” in Ranneforths Schachkalender 1925. 49. Probably based on Anton Nowotny’s obituary in Schachzeitung, XXVI (1871), page 87. 50. I.C.M., III (March 1887), page 83. 51. Landsberger, William Steinitz, pages 15–16. 52. Whyld, Chess Columns: A List (Olomouc 2003), page 207, names R. Mangelsdorf as the chess editor of the Illustrirte Zeitung at this time. The column, Whyld says, was begun by K. J. S. Portious in 1843 and he continued it to 14 April 1862, after which Dr. Max Lange took over, until Mangelsdorf became chess editor during 1863, and he continued to 1882. The next editor was Minckwitz. 53. As Chapter 7 will show, Steinitz gave simultaneous exhibitions in The Hague on 9 and 10 July, so he probably left England on the 7th or 8th and reached Vienna on 11 July or later. 54. This is a rough translation of the passage as it appeared in D.S.Z., XXVIII (August 1873), pages 230–233. There were only small verbal differences between the versions and no facts were changed. According to the online catalog of the Austrian State Library, the Constitutionellen Oesterreichische Zeitung commenced publication only in 1861. However, Steinitz might have been writing for some other (unknown) title in 1860. 55. “Schon als Knabe galt Steinitz für den besten Schachspieler in Prag.” 56. Oesterreichische Schachzeitung, September 1873, pages 267–268. 57. This would have been the Ernst Pitschel from Altenburg and later Leipzig, referred to above. It was Karl Pitschel who competed at the 1873 Vienna international tournament. 58. Hannak, Michel Angelo, page 16. 59. Epstein is usually described in English versions of the story as a banker (as in Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 21). He was so described both by Lehner and Gelbfuhs (“Banquier”) and by Bachmann (“Bankier”) in Schachmeister Steinitz. Yet in Bachmann’s 1925 article for the Schachrundschau, and also in Hannak’s biography, Epstein is described as a wholesale merchant (“Großhändler”). Ehn, Geniales Schach, page 133, clarifies this matter by identifying the man concerned as “textile industrialist and banker” Gustav Ritter von Epstein (1828–1879). 60. Illustrirte Zeitung, 7 September 1873, pages 10–11: “‘Eine Partie Schach,’ sagte er, ‘müsse durch die Führung gewonnen warden,’ ein Satz, der die grosse Umwandlung seines so brillanten und glänzenden Spieltypus in die feste und sichere, den Laien keineswegs bestechende Spielführung, leicht erklärt.” By durch die Führung we take him to mean planning as opposed to random tactics.

Notes—Chapter 2 61. Landsberger quotes a paragraph from Irving Chernev, The Bright Side of Chess (1948), which said Steinitz began to be referred to in this way but the epithet has not been graced to its origin. 62. Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 16. 63. Hannak, Michel Angelo, page 17 (footnote). 64. D.S.Z., XIV (January 1859), pages 26–27. Three games that may have been from that match, all featuring Hamppe as White in the Exchange Variation of the French Defense, had been published in the Illustrirte Zeitung on 27 November and the 4th and 11th of December 1858. ChessBase has another game, won by Hamppe in the Vienna Opening, whose source could not be traced. 65. Fremden-Blatt, 11 November 1859, page 7, also repeated on 13 November. 66. Die Presse, 4 February 1860. 67. D.S.Z., XV (1860), page 246. 68. The Era, 18 March 1860. The match was for the first to win 7 games, but with Mongredien given a two-game start. After three played games, Harrwitz was already in the lead. Mongredien managed one draw. 69. I.L.N., 2 June 1860; The Era, 10 June; C.P.C., 1860, page 164. 70. This news was printed on the magazine’s inside cover so cannot be found in the Google Books file. 71. Der Zwischen-Akt, 22 November 1860, page 3. 72. Telegraf, columns 2449–2551 (16 December 1860). This publication did not have page numbers but two columns per page. The issue of 16 December was the 51st of 53 numbers in the volume for 1860 which had begun on 1 January. (The chess column had begun in July.) One can calculate therefore that this issue was published on 16 December and that Harrwitz’s first blindfold performance was on 8 December, a date confirmed in Der Zwischen-Akt of 10 December. 73. Lest this game in future turn up in some Steinitz collection or database, it is included in Appendix II with a “health warning.” 74. Der Zwischen-Akt, 15 January 1861. 75. The word “Gange” (round) implies a knock-out tournament rather than a round-robin. Anderberg supposes that the games were probably sent to the Leipzig chess editor by one of the Vienna problemists. Ernst Pitschel would seem to be a likely source; the January 1859 Schachzeitung (page 26) described him as being a co-founder of the Augustea chess club in Leipzig. 76. The Field, XLVIII (29 July 1876), page 153. The obituary paragraph which formed part of his first column for the London Figaro on 2 August 1876 says: “Herr Hampe [sic], however, had the satisfaction, in 1860 [sic], of defeating Mr. Harrwitz in a match for the first seven games by the majority of two, and at the same time carrying off the chief prize in the local tournament of Vienna, Messrs. Harrwitz and Steinitz, who were also competitors, coming out, respectively, with the next honors.” Steinitz seems to dismiss this result on the grounds that he was young, although he was by then 23 years old, which is hardly young for a chess master nowadays. It is somewhat curious that Steinitz also spelled Hamppe’s name incorrectly throughout his writing career. 77. Peter Anderberg, “Harrwitz Gegen Steinitz, Duell in Wien,” in Caissa (1/2018), pages 11–21. That article was followed for our biographical details of Jeney; it also has a photograph of him. This author’s work on Steinitz in Vienna was already far advanced when the first of Anderberg’s independently-researched articles for Caissa appeared in print. 78. I.C.M., I (February 1885), page 34. 79. The game with Jeney was in C.P.C., Third Series IV (January 1861), page 27. The games with Hamppe appeared later, on pages 147–149. 80. This is one of the four games in the Mega Database 2017, which also has a draw (whose primary source was not traced) where Black varied with 4. … e6. The Exchange French game is also in the ChessBase database and the fourth game they give, also untraced, is a Kieseritzky gambit, won by White in 63 moves.

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81. What was a Reise-necessaire in those days? Landsberger, page 20, says Steinitz won a suitcase and perhaps that was the prize, or part if it. Nowadays Reise-necessaire would usually be translated as a toiletry set or washbag for travelers. Presumably what Steinitz won in 1862 was something a bit grander than a shaving kit and toothbrush, since it is described as “valuable” and presumably cost more than Pilhal’s second prize of an elegant cigar box. 82. Ehn in Karl 1/2012, page 16, and Geniales Schach, page 134. 83. Translation courtesy of Bert Corneth, from the Neue Freie Presse, 1 September 1866, page 7, first column. 84. Ibid. 85. Ehn, Geniales Schach, note 88 on page 310. 86. Österreichische Schachrundschau, IV (January 1925), page 3. 87. Peter Anderberg, “Steinitz in Wien—Neues aus alten Quellen,” in Caissa 2/2018, pages 80–91. He did not include three games from Telegraf which were known to Bachmann from the Rummler manuscript. They are those against Pilhal (game 8 in the present work’s numbering), Meitner (11) and Reiner (20). 88. Yakov I. Neishtadt, Pervy Chempion Mira (Moscow: Fizkultura i Sport 1971), pages 14–17. 89. Craig Pritchett, Steinitz Move by Move (Everyman: London 2015), pages 11–16. 90. The Field, XLVIII (29 July 1876), page 153. 91. Berthold Suhle, “Zur Theorie des Evansgambit,” in D.S.Z., XIV (July–August 1859), pages 220–224, with a follow-up in the October number, pages 315–319. Suhle’s full set of Christian names appears in the triple biography by Hans Renette and Fabrizio Zavatarelli, Neumann, Hirschfeld and Suhle (Jefferson: McFarland 2018), page 28. 92. It is also perhaps possible that the editor was under the impression that Steinitz’s opponent was Reiner, or that Bachmann misread the name in the manuscript as “Meitner” instead of “Reiner.” Meitner was a stronger player than Reiner; readers may wish to exercise their judgment about which of them was more likely to have been the loser of this game.

Chapter 2 1. Fabrizio Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, page 191. 2. Kolisch told this story first in an article for N.B.S.Z., V (1868), pages 193–195, which Zavatarelli translated into English on pages 202–203 of his biography. Kolisch retold it almost 20 years later (see next note) and in that version Kolisch detailed the kind of correspondence, including begging letters, that he had to deal with. 3. Private email from Zavatarelli, May 2019. He wrote that his view of the relationship between Kolisch and his patron changed somewhat after discovering the articles mentioned in the next note. 4. This, and other quotations about Kolisch and Kushelev in this chapter, comes from one of a series of feuilleton articles which Kolisch wrote in the mid–1880s for the Wiener Allgemeine Zeitung, which were made available on the ANNO website only late in 2018. Several of these refer to Kushelev under the pseudonym Vaschelew. The one mentioning Kolisch’s visit to the Exhibition was number 8 on the series, dated 15 December 1885, pages 1–3, and includes the following: “Ich hatte am 1. Mai der Eröffnung der Londoner Weltausstellung beigewohnt, mußte aber denselben Abend abreisen, um mit meinem Freunde Grafen Vachelew zusammenzutreffen, der sich erboten hatte, mir das Land seiner Väter in seiner vollen Pracht zu zeigen.” Zavatarelli says that in these articles Kolisch frequently runs together events of different dates but seems to be accurate about the underlying facts. So it was not literally true that they left on the evening of 1 May. In fact another article shows that Kushelev went ahead and Kolisch followed, experiencing some difficulty in locating his friend because he knew no Russian and could not at first find anybody in St. Petersburg who could speak French. 5. Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, page 205, quoting Dubois. The author is grateful for the large amount of information about both

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Dubois and Kolisch which Italian chess historian Fabrizio Zavatarelli sent during the preparation of this chapter. 6. Charles Devidé, A Memorial to William Steinitz (New York and London 1901), pages 3–4 in the Dover edition retitled William Steinitz: Selected Chess Games. 7. G. R. Neumann and B. Suhle, Die Neueste Theorie und Praxis des Schachspiels (Berlin 1865). 8. Dating is provided by Boden’s saying in The Field of 7 June that Bird and Steinitz played a match at Purssell’s where Bird “was in the ascendant.” Nobody else called it a match. On Purssell’s, see Chapter 3. 9. H. E. Bird, Steinitz & Lasker Match (London 1894), page 1, as quoted in Renette, H. E. Bird, page 89, note 21. Bird was then an accountant working for Coleman, Turquand, Youngs and Company whose offices were at 16 Tokenhouse Yard, which is a narrow Lshaped street situated behind Lothbury and Moorgate, and only a short walk past the Bank to Cornhill. 10. Hans Renette, H. E. Bird: A Chess Biography with 1,198 Games (Jefferson: McFarland 2016). 11. H. E. Bird, Bird’s Chess Reviews, part 1 (London 1890); probably no subsequent parts appeared. This quotation may be found in Renette, H. E. Bird, page 89, and more about Bird’s publication may be found on page 439 of the same work. The author is grateful to Hans Renette for supplying a photocopy of the whole of this rare document. 12. The Field, XXI (14 February 1863), page 142. 13. J. J. Löwenthal and G. W. Medley (eds.), The Chess Congress of 1862: a collection of the games played… (London 1864); Berthold Suhle, Der Schachcongress zu London im Jahre 1862 (Berlin 1864). 14. Ken Whyld, “The First International All-Play-All London 1851,” in Q.C.H. 8, pages 329–338, shows that only 14 decisive games and a few draws were played out of the 36 pairings due to be completed. Anderssen won seven games; his draw with Harrwitz was not replayed. 15. In the I.L.N. of 22 March Staunton said an amendment to plans might be made because there was a prior booking of “the minor hall” for the week beginning 30 June, which might affect the start date of the Congress. Staunton said it was planned to use the main hall for the “grand public exhibition of blindfold play and telegraph matches.” In fact there was a main auditorium (seating an audience of 2,500 people or more) and two minor halls, as can be seen in a description of the three halls in the I.L.N. of 28 June 1862, on page 12. The minor halls were described as being about 60 by 60 feet wide and 25 feet high, one with a gallery (frequently used for concerts) and one without. It is not entirely clear which were used for the Congress but it seems unlikely that the main auditorium was booked, if only on grounds of expense. An advertisement for the chess in the I.L.N. of 28 June did not speak of the “minor hall,” but there was a morning concert on Monday, 30 June, reported in the Morning Advertiser of 1 July. Press reports and advertisements show that there were also other events and concerts during in the week, at least some of which probably used the main auditorium. Most likely the chess was played in the minor hall which had a gallery for spectators. 16. Löwenthal, page xlix. 17. Löwenthal says “Prince Ourosoff,” but there were two brothers of that name. It was probably Sergey Semenovich Urusov (1827–1897) who had hoped to come to London, rather than Dmitry Semenovich. In view of what Boden wrote in The Field on 12 July about the laxity of the organization, the tournament book may not have been strictly truthful about Urusov being immediately struck out. 18. Hooper and Whyld, Oxford Companion, page 96 (in the first edition). 19. In a private email, Zavatarelli informed us that the career record of Dubois against Arnous de Rivière was +21 –10 =4 (games in 1855 and 1862); with Wyvill in 1846 he scored +55 –26 and, giving pawn and move, +30 –39. In 1855 with von der Lasa he had a win and

a loss. Moreover, after the London tournament he defeated V. Green, giving him pawn and move in two matches, with the results +5 –0 =0 and +5 –1 =0. In the Italian rules, “free castling” gave some advantage to the attacker in certain openings and “passar battaglia” ruled out en passant captures altogether. 20. P. W. Sergeant, A Century of British Chess (London: Hutchinson 1934), page 115. 21. This author first attempted a reconstruction of the London 1862 tournament in his Kibitzer series of articles for www.chesscafe. com (number 206 for July 2013) which are no longer generally available. Subsequent to that, Fabrizio Zavatarelli supplied us with his own extensive notes attempting the same task, and he has checked a draft of this chapter, making several suggestions and providing further information. His contribution is hereby acknowledged. 22. An alternative chronology sent to us by Zavatarelli places the Green game on the 18th and the Mongredien games on the 19th, but the objection to that is, it would have Anderssen playing three tournament games in a day, whereas on our schedule he had two each on Wednesday and Thursday. It is impossible to know for certain. 23. The Era of 22 June actually says, puzzlingly, that on the 20th “three games were played at the St George’s Club, between Anderssen and Roby [sic]; and two others, at the Grand Cigar Divan, between Messrs. Deacon and Green and Messrs. Blackburne and MacDonnell.” Since there is no record of any draws in the tournament between Anderssen and Robey, this was probably just a case of a badly punctuated sentence perhaps incorrectly typeset. The “three games” was probably intended to encompass all three pairings. It seems unlikely that Robey could have drawn two games with Anderssen, such was the gulf between their strengths. Or they played two offhand games after the tournament game. 24. The last sentence in the Era report says “We have just heard that Mr. McDonnell [sic] won in the grand Tournament of Mr. Blackburne.” (This was too late for The Field which was published a day earlier.) So it looks as if Löwenthal was able to add this result at the last minute (at proof stage) but forgot to update MacDonnell’s score. The date of the game is confirmed in C.P.C., page 197. 25. Löwenthal wrote in his tournament book, page liv, that at the end of the first week Anderssen had already won five games and lost none, but no other player was specially placed. He also wrote that Paulsen and Löwenthal, because of ill health, had each only played one game (which they won). In this paragraph he appears to have consulted only his 22 June Era report, not taking into account any other games that may have been played on the Saturday. 26. By mistake The Era also listed “Owen and Hannah, St. James’s” for Saturday 28th. 27. Renette, Louis Paulsen, page 125, argues that this game was played early in the week before Paulsen’s Thursday game with Owen; Monday appears otherwise to have been free for both Paulsen and MacDonnell. 28. Löwenthal, page liv. Dubois detailed his movements in Rivista scacchistica italiana, 9 October 1901, pages 252–253. On arrival he first contacted Chevalier de St. Bon who appears to have been his proxy at the preliminary meeting. 29. Based on comparing the scores for the two players in the Field and I.L.N. of 28 June; Boden had a later deadline than Staunton and his column shows an extra game played by each of them. 30. The Field of 28 June shows the game was finished by then, but on the same day the I.L.N. figures for Blackburne and Anderssen cannot include a result between them. Blackburne played Deacon on Tuesday. On Wednesday 25th, when Löwenthal postponed his game with Blackburne the latter was free to make a different last-minute arrangement, probably with Owen, and then played Anderssen next day. It is also possible he played those two games in the reverse order. 31. Robey is shown to have forfeited three games in the tournament book’s final table on page lxxiv. The others were against Dubois and Hannah.

Notes—Chapter 3 32. Serafino Dubois, “Reminiscenze del Torneo Scacchistico di Londra (1862),” in Eco della scienza, dell’industria e del commercio 7.1865, n. 10; also in Rivista scacchistica italiana 11.1901, page 92. Zavatarelli explains that Dubois first wrote his long article in the Eco about his visit to England. When in the 1880s he wrote his general reminiscences, his memory was weakened, so he explicitly stated that the part about England 1862–63 was very similar to his previous article. His general memoirs were at last published in the Rivista between 1900 and 1903. 33. Serafino Dubois, Quarant’anni di scacchi da campione. L’autobiografia, la corrispondenza, le partite (ed. F. Zavatarelli; Brescia, Messaggerie scacchistiche 2017). 34. Löwenthal, page lxiii. 35. Renette, Louis Paulsen, page 133, says the draw was “probably” earlier in the week. He cites The Times of 5 July as saying three games were played on the 4th, not mentioning the draw, but this is inconclusive as news reports often disregarded draws. 36. All quotations in this paragraph are from Löwenthal, page lxv. 37. Nuova rivista degli scacchi, 1 December 1875, page 88; Kennedy ceased to answer when about to be mated. 38. Löwenthal, pages lxvi–lxvii. 39. Adding a point to Green and Mongredien’s total scores would not have affected the distribution of prizes but the Illustrated London News of 26 July said the committee had to decide whether Barnes, who would have been equal with Dubois and Steinitz in that case, should be permitted to contend with those two for the fifth and sixth prizes. Eventually Löwenthal’s wins stood, so Barnes was placed seventh. Also in the same article Staunton suggested a play-off match between Dubois and Steinitz to decide fifth and sixth, but that was because he incorrectly had their scores level, probably believing that Blackburne had been awarded a win by forfeit against Dubois. 40. The Field of 26 July also stated incorrectly that Owen had won by default from Green but that was corrected later. 41. Gino Di Felice, Chess Results 1747–1900 (McFarland 2004), page 35. Renette’s crosstable in his Paulsen book has the lower players in the wrong order because he omits Löwenthal’s point by default against Robey and he does not place Robey last. 42. Rivista scacchistica italiana 9–10.1901, page 253 (translation by Zavatarelli). 43. The final report about the tournament in The Times of 8 August put this more cryptically: “Signor Dubois … won the same number of games as Mr. Macdonald [sic], but was unfortunate enough in one instance to be involved in a difficulty, which was decided by the committee in Mr. Macdonald’s favour.” 44. Tim Harding, Joseph Henry Blackburne (Jefferson: McFarland 2015), game 46. Throughout the present work, games between the two masters will be cited in this way in the game introductions. In most cases the Blackburne book has detailed notes, whereas this book will give only bare games scores or light annotations to highlight the most important turning points, or corrections. References citing Graham are to J. H. Blackburne (ed. P. Anderson Graham), Mr. Blackburne’s Games at Chess (London 1899). 45. Daily News, 2 July 1862. 46. I.C.M., VII (July 1891), pages 207–208. For the full text see also Renette, Louis Paulsen, pages 406–407. 47. Eco della scienza, dell’industria e del commercio 7.1865, n. 10 (translation by Zavatarelli, saying this was part of a comment to the game between Dubois and Paulsen.) 48. Eco della scienza, dell’industria e del commercio 7.1865, n. 10, and Rivista italiana degli scacchi 12.1901, page 323. 49. The author notes that the announcement on 26 July was actually premature as the final committee meeting had not yet taken place and the score-table on page 3 of the I.L.N. shows Dubois with 8 points instead of 9, hence its statement that “Messrs. Dubois and Steinitz will have to play another round to decide the possession of the fifth and sixth honours.” The ninth point for Dubois appears to

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have come from the late decision about his unplayed game with Blackburne. 50. Pritchett admittedly does say “some sources suggest” that Qe2 was actually played. There is more detail in Winter’s discussion at www.chess. history.com/winter/extra/confusion.html which was prompted by an inaccurate article by GM Bent Larsen in Inside Chess, 20 March 1989. There it is shown that Devidé himself, in the American Chess Bulletin of March 1933, demonstrated that Réti (pages 23– 25 of the Bell edition in English descriptive notation), had the wrong move whereas his own collection of Steinitz games was correct. 51. S. Dubois, Les principales ouvertures du jeu des échecs dans les deux manières italienne et française (Rome: Monaldi 1845). New Italian editions were published in the years 1868, 1872, and 1873. 52. L. Hoffer, “Progress of the game from the early days to the present time,” in The Field, CXVI (31 December 1910), pages 1278– 1282. 53. Steinitz, Modern Chess Instructor, Part II, Section I (New York 1895), column 17 and note 57 (pages 40–43). 54. St. Bon’s initial may have been S—see C.P.C. page 155. One also notes that the move numbering goes wrong early in B.L.L. but otherwise Walker’s score agrees with Löwenthal. 55. Neumann and Suhle, Neueste Theorie #313, pages 445–446. 56. G. A. MacDonnell, The Knights and Kings of Chess (London 1894), page 60. 57. J. W. Collins, My Seven Chess Prodigies, quoted in Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 30. 58. Considerable effort has gone into reconstructing the most probable sequence; two other historians we consulted on this subject agree with our analysis. 59. The Era of 3 August actually says the score in the match between Dubois and Paulsen was 2–2 but “Paulsen” was a clear misprint for Steinitz and the mistake was acknowledged in the correspondence of The Era the following week. The Norfolk News of 9 August gave the score instead as Steinitz 3 Dubois 1. If that were correct, then we would have to reverse the order of the fourth and eighth games in the Evans Gambit, but we believe Löwenthal was more likely than a provincial chess editor to have the right score. 60. Translation by Zavatarelli of paragraph 232 of the Dubois memoirs, which were originally published in the Rivista scacchistica italiana in various issues early in the 20th century and transcribed by Zavatarelli for the work in Italian which he published in 2017 (cited in note 33). This particular paragraph was in December 1901. We have substituted “some excuse” for the legal term “mitigation” used by Dubois.

Chapter 3 1. Different websites give slightly different figures depending on what is counted as “London,” so here we state the figures shown at www.demographia.com/ dm-lon31.htm (downloaded 4 October 2018). Inner London is defined there as the area that was the County of London from 1889 to 1965. The four million mark was passed before the 1891 census and the peak figure of 4,536,267 was reached in the 1901 census. Thereafter the figure fell slightly (though remaining above four million up to World War II) but the population of the outer boroughs (which in the late 20th century were included in the Greater London Council zone) became by 1939 even higher than the inner London figure because of migration to the suburbs. The 1939 estimate for the whole metropolis was over eight million, compared with just over three million people when Steinitz came to London and 4,713,441 in 1881. 2. Farringdon Street station, later renamed simply Farringdon, is towards the northern end of that long street, which runs roughly north-south on the western side of the City. It has recently been redeveloped as a major hub linking the London “over-ground” railroad, the subway system and the new subterranean Crossrail or Elizabeth

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Line, which was originally scheduled to open in 2018 but has been delayed to late 2020. When the Metropolitan Railway was extended later in the 1860s, the next stop going eastwards was Aldersgate Street, now renamed Barbican. The next after that is Moorgate, and it later reached Liverpool Street (actually also adjoining Bishopsgate) which opened in the 1870s as a major terminus for lines to Essex and East Anglia. 3. Old Londoners remember that the Circle Line stop now known as Embankment used to be called Charing Cross, from where it is a short walk uphill to the Strand. Turn left and one is in the Charing Cross precinct, turn right and one is soon at Simpson’s. 4. Most of the information about the St. George’s Club locations is taken from Sergeant, British Chess, but can be verified through B.L.L. and other chess column sources. Because of the lack of a general index in that book it has to be hunted down. The first mentions are on page 53, and further moves are mentioned on pages 88, 93, and 181. 5. Printed “Rules of the St George’s Club” (1865), including the membership list, in Thomas Long’s scrapbook, in the possession of the Dublin Chess Club. There were six honorary members at this time: William Lewis, Löwenthal, Jaenisch, Saint-Amant, Morphy, and Von der Lasa. 6. Bryant Lillywhite, London coffee houses: a reference book of coffee houses of the seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth centuries (London 1963). The Tom’s Coffee House relevant to chess was number 1358 on pages 581–585. Lillywhite mentions the chess on page 584. More images of the George and Vulture and other places in the City of London can be found online at Collage: https://collage.cityoflondon.gov.uk/. 7. London Metropolitan Archives, A/LCH/001. There are, in all, seven file references to London Chess Club in LMA’s catalogue but ordering this will call them all up. It is a bound notebook; the rest are just scraps of paper. John Townsend, Historical notes on some chess players (privately published in Wokingham, 2014). 8. Lillywhite, Coffee Houses, item 1753 starting page 699; Henry Chance Newton, History of Ye George and Vulture Tavern, One of London’s Oldest Inns (London 1909). 9. The Standard, (Monday, 9 June 1834), page 2; this paragraph appeared also in the Morning Advertiser, 11 June 1834. 10. John Henry Huttmann’s later “Garrick Chess Divan” and other enterprises will not be discussed in this book at any length, having already been dealt with in Harding, British Chess Literature to 1914 (Jefferson: McFarland 2018), pages 124–127. One detail that book failed to mention was that Charles Tomlinson, in B.C.M., XI (November 1891), page 498, recalled what happened to Huttmann eventually. “He had to abandon chess, which he dearly loved, and thought it had a high educational value, so that he put forth several schemes for introducing it into colleges and schools, and wished even to found professorships at the universities. The last time I saw him was in connection with a notice of a book of mine in The Builder, of which he had become sub-editor.” 11. For example, a news story in the Morning Post of 5 November 1833 (hinting at a future visit by de la Bourdonnais) and an advertisement for the club in the same paper of 7 November. 12. Cary Utterberg, De la Bourdonnais versus McDonnell, 1834 (Jefferson: McFarland 2005). The Morning Post of 28 June said that de la Bourdonnais, probably the world’s strongest chess player in the 1820s and 1830s, “has at length paid London his long-promised visit, and is now playing daily at the Westminster Chess Club in Bedfordstreet.” Bell’s Life in London on 29 June spoke of matches being arranged at the club. The Courier of 9 October 1834 advertised William Lewis’s book with a selection of 50 games from their matches, to be published “in a few days.” During the last week of October the book was being advertised as published “this day.” From this it can be estimated that the matches began in late June or early July and must have finished not later than September. McDonnell

was not named, often being described as an “English amateur” though actually he was from a Belfast business family. 13. B.L.L., 5 May 1839. Look him up in Ancestry. 14. B.L.L., 6 September 1840, page 2. 15. This event was reported at length, including all three game scores, on the front page of The Standard of Wednesday, 5 August 1946. Be aware that the British Newspaper Archive database mistakenly says it was the Evening Standard. This confusion is clarified in Harding, British Chess Literature, pages 103–106. 16. I.L.N., 29 May 1847. The fullest report of the occasion was in Bell’s Life in London next day. 17. I.L.N, 8 May 1847. Three guineas was £3 3s. The conversion to today’s values was done at www.measuringworth.com which is the site always used for such comparisons in this book. 18. London Metropolitan Archives have some architects’ plans of the 1850s redevelopment around St. Michael’s Alley but they do not show the alterations to the George and Vulture specifically. They have a mounted graphic SC/GL/PR/358/LOM/q688623x (dated November 1855), which is apparently the same illustration found in Chance Newton’s booklet about the inn. 19. The moves between these two locations would not have entailed carrying chess equipment far or across any thoroughfare. Bengal Court, at the front of the George and Vulture, leads across Birch Alley and into Cowper’s Court. 20. In B.L.L. on 10 February 1856 Walker reported that the London Chess Club “opened their new rooms in Cornhill, on Tuesday last, with an inauguration dinner” and mentioning “the spirited caterers, Messrs. Purssell and Co.” Also The Era of the same date mentions “their New Rooms, Purssell’s, Cornhill.” 21. An item (not a classified advertisement) in the Morning Chronicle, 15 September 1845, recommended “Biscuits in High Perfection” from Purssell’s, 78 Cornhill, “packed in air proof tin boxes immediately on leaving the oven.” This is on the opposite side of Cornhill from St. Michael’s Church and the lane which leads to the George and Vulture. 22. According to an article in the Croydon Chronicle of 3 May 1856; advertisements in French placed in some London papers by Purssell’s in 1850 seem to bear this out to some extent. Similar pictures of Purssell’s to those shown here can be seen in London Metropolitan Archives: “Exterior and Surroundings at corner of Finch Lane”: SC/PZ/CT/01/0799 and the earlier wood engraving of number 78, ref. SC/SS/07/004/121. 23. The London Gazette, 16 October 1857; further information from a family history at https://forgottenvictorians.com/tag/purssellof-cornhill (viewed 14 June 2019). 24. The Morning Post of 29 May 1897 announced his successor on the council. 25. Frederick Milnes Edge, The exploits and triumphs, in Europe, of Paul Morphy, The Chess Champion; including an historical account of clubs etc. (New York: D. Appleton, 1859) page 50. The title page does not name Edge but says “By Paul Morphy’s late Secretary.” The English edition, entitled Paul Morphy the Chess Champion (London: William Lay 1859) was said to be “By an Englishman.” The book is notoriously unreliable, e.g., such inaccuracies as the wrong year of death for de la Bourdonnais, and spellings like “Popard” for “Popert” and “Zenn” for Szén were presumably Edge’s fault. Nevertheless there is little reason to disbelieve its account of the geography of Purssell’s if Walker provided it. Edge’s second name has been spelled in various ways. For a detailed discussion about Morphy and Edge see www. chesshistory.com/winter/extra/edge.html. 26. Morning Advertiser, 1 April 1856; The Era, 6 April 1856. Note that in British English the noun form of “license” is spelled with two c’s. 27. Dubois, in Eco della Scienza (1865); later in his memoir he changed this slightly to “I do not remember ever going there” which is a bit strange since he certainly visited the London Chess Club on the upper floor.

Notes—Chapter 3 28. Hackney and Kingsland Gazette, 12 November 1879. 29. B.C.M., XI (May 1891), pages 230–238. 30. The Standard, 31 October 1891 (advertisement for the auction of effects). 31. I.S.D.N., 14 November 1891. 32. H. E. Bird, Chess History and Reminiscences (London: Dean and Son 1893), page 114; see also Renette, H. E. Bird, page 22. 33. E. H. Malcolm, “London coffee houses and their customers,” in Tegg’s (London) Magazine of Knowledge and Amusements (1844), pages 61–68 (here pages 67 and 68). There were three further parts to this article (pages 122–130, 189–192, and 218–223) but no more was said about divans or chess. 34. That might be a reference to Goode’s, though it was situated on Ludgate Hill. 35. Edge, Paul Morphy, page 30; cigar advertisement in the Morning Chronicle, 30 November 1822 (and similar at later dates). The King-street where Gliddon’s was located is not the same as the King Street in St. James’s where the St. George’s Chess Club met. 36. Morning Chronicle, 9 October 1823; his forename was found in the Morning Advertiser, 19 May 1823. 37. London Courier and Evening Gazette, 21 December 1832. This was not the only time Kilpack got into a little trouble with the law, according to Jane Ellis, a descendant of the Kilpack family, who has researched him on Ancestry and in the British Newspaper Archive, providing us with additional information about him and his family beyond our own research. 38. Frederic Boase, Modern English Biography (London 1897; reprint Frank Cass & Co. 1965), vol. 2 column 219; citing The Town, I (1837), page 75. Boase dates the opening of Gliddon’s Divan to 1825 and Kilpack’s taking over to 1828 or 1829. 39. Tegg’s London Magazine, loc. cit. 40. Thomas Kilpack’s death certificate shows his age as 79, but his exact birth date is unknown. He had been baptized on 21 June 1795 at St. Saviour’s Southwark, His middle name, James, is seen in his first marriage record. He appears to have lived at his business premises and never retired: the 1871 census entry shows his address as “bowling alley” and his occupation as “tobacconist.” 41. The burial of Ann Brand Kilpack was on 6 December 1835 at St. Paul, Covent Garden. 42. On Miss Kilpack’s musical accomplishments, see for example The Standard, 13 June 1859; B.L.L., 11 January 1863; East London Observer, 6 December 1862; The Era, 12 April 1863. 43. Sarah Gray, The Dictionary of British Women Artists (Cambridge: Lutterworth Press 2009), page 160. Gray gives her second name as Louise instead of Louisa. Boase, loc. cit., mentions she also exhibited two sea pictures at the British Institution in 1867. 44. Charles Baile de Laperrière (ed.), The Society of Women Artists Exhibitors 1855–1996; volume 2: E–K, pages 336–338. Her address up to 1875 was 42 King Street; the year she missed was presumably due to the break-up of the family home and finding new accommodation. 45. Lillywhite, Coffee Houses, item 672 on page 311. His work does not mention Goode’s Divan. The author also mentions Ries in a generic article about cigar divans (item 244, pages 158–159) while Ries’s Cigar Divan is listed as 1077 on page 482. He does not mention “Simpson’s” in connection with this premises. 46. I.L.N., 28 February 1846. “Wine Shades” was a generic term for a Victorian wine bar. The one frequented by Staunton seems to have first been mentioned in B.L.L., 8 September 1844: “Evening chess is most cultivated at the cigar divans in the Strand and Ludgatehill, and at Smith’s excellent Wine Shades in Leicester-square.” The Morning Post of Tuesday, 4 August 1846, reported that the business was in Saville House, which had been damaged by a storm the previous Saturday which had flooded the lower part of the premises. “The water rose several feet in Mr. Smith’s wine shades, on the basement, which did great mischief.” Smith reopened later but that may have been the end of chess there.

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47. William Hone, The Every-Day Book and Table Book; or Everlasting calendar of popular amusements, sports, pastimes etc. (London: Thomas Tegg, 3 vols., 1830), volume 3, columns 673–680. The accompanying text provides some description of Gliddon’s Divan but chess is not mentioned. 48. B.C.M., XI (February 1891), page 48. 49. The Era, 16 August 1874. The Morning Post, 19 January 1863, carried a death notice of Georgiana, wife of Thomas Kilpack, at the age of 58; the address matches. 50. H. E. Bird, Chess History and Reminiscences (London 1893), page 71. 51. Edge, Paul Morphy, page 30. 52. Kenneth Whyld, Simpson’s, Headquarters of the World, an unfinished essay written in 1993 but edited by Ralf Binnewirtz (with Tony Gillam and Bert Corneth) and published posthumously by the Ken Whyld Association for its members in 2013. It largely consists of quotations from 19th century sources but has some original text by Whyld. On page 43 he mentioned an article by Gareth Williams in Chess, June 1993, pages 40–42, but that lacks source citations and some statements in it appear questionable. 53. Whyld has “Reis” but the spelling “Reiss” was used both by Kieseritzky and in the Morning Post of 11 February 1903, which recalled the glory days just as Simpson’s was about to be closed for redevelopment. 54. Bernhard Ries’s later interests in Demerara make it plausible that he and his brother had come from Hanover in the Caribbean rather than Hanover in Germany, but again there are too few sources. 55. Reports in The Globe, 14 December 1838, and the Morning Chronicle on the same date (which have “Bernhard”) and The Operative, Sunday, 16 December 1838, page 13 (which has “Bernard”). Ries is said in both reports to have been of Moorgate but that is not far from Cornhill and he could well have moved his business premises in the meantime. 56. West Kent Guardian, 8 May 1841, page 2. A Henry Bernhard Ries married a Josephine Bell at St. Clement Danes in London on 20 October 1837 but it is unconfirmed whether this was them. 57. Samuel Ries’s birth year was found by searches on ancestry. co.uk. 58. R. Ackermann had a publishing house at 101 Strand as late as 1827, as advertisements show, e.g., the Globe, 14 February (page 1), but the Reis family may have been in business at number 102 by then and afterwards taken over the adjoining premises, as later they acquired number 100 also. Ackermann was still in business in 1829 but had moved to another address. 59. Tegg’s London Magazine (1844), page 68. 60. B.L.L., 19 March 1837. The premises must have acquired an alcohol license later, at least by the time Simpson’s restaurant was opened. 61. synagoguescribeswww/blog/selected-jewish-masonsdetails/?value=MASONS%20722 (viewed 16 February 2019). The 1843 Post Office Directory lists “Ries Samuel, grand cigar Divan 101 & 102 Strand.” Note also 1865 London Trades’ Directory, page 1971, still lists “Ries Samuel, 101 & 102 Strand WC.” As Chapter 5 shows, Ries was bought out by the Simpson’s limited company (in which he probably retained shares) in the summer of 1866. 62. Around the 1840s there was a professional chess player named Daniels at the Divan, to whom Emma was possibly related, but very little is known of him, not even his first name. 63. October-November-December 1861, Kensington volume 1a, page 59. 64. The probate record of Emma Ries (“Wife of Samuel Ries, Esquire”) dated 29 June 1888 shows a personal estate of £1,752 18s. 2d. but it was re-sworn two months later for some reason with a lower figure of £1,650 19s. 5d, which is equivalent to about £175,000 in today’s money, so she was a well-to-do woman in her own right. Prior to the Married Women’s Property Act of 1882, a wife would

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not have had her own legally-recognized personal estate, so there is no probate record for Samuel’s first wife Mary Ann. 65. Probate record sworn 30 June 1890; the purchasing power of Ries’s personal estate was worth over £8 million in 2018 values. 66. John Timbs, Clubs and Club Life in London (London: Chatto and Windus 1872), page 484, says: “At length, under the proprietorship of Mr. T. B. Simpson, the grounds were laid out with taste, and the tavern enlarged; and the place has prospered for many years as a sort of Vauxhall, with multitudinous amusements, in variety far outnumbering the old proto-gardens.” 67. T. B. Simpson’s connection to the Cremorne Gardens is confirmed and elucidated in the web page http://www.londongardens trust.org/features/cremorne.htm (read 29 April 2019), where he is said by the writer Hazelle Jackson to have been “owner of the North & South American Coffee House in Threadneedle Street.” See also https://exploring-london.com/2017/06/09/lost-london-cremornegardens-chelsea/ which says Simpson originally sublet to a man named James Ellis in 1845, whereas in https://www.victorianlondon. org/entertainment/cremorne.htm the 1846 date was queried. All agree that after Ellis became bankrupt in 1849, Simpson took over personal management of the gardens. A memorial published in The Era of 24 March 1850, at the time when T. B. Simpson took over management of the Cremorne Gardens, confirms his association with both that coffee house and the Albion licensed premises. 68. Whyld, Simpson’s, page 24. 69. Morning Advertiser, 15 November 1848. 70. G. A. MacDonnell, “The Grand Divan,” in Chess Life-Pictures, containing Biographical Sketches, Caïssana, and character-sketches. By G. A. MacDonnell, B.A. with illustrations by Wallis Mackay (London 1883) pages 156–157; the article continues to page 160 and some is quoted later in this book. 71. Kieseritzky says he also played at the St. George’s Chess Club, against Tuckett, Walker, and others. B.C.M., XI (February 1891), page 49, published a game Kieseritzky probably played during this visit to England, when according to Charles Tomlinson, “he had the temerity” to offer Henry Thomas Buckle the odds of pawn and move. This game is not usually to be found in databases. Tomlinson, who possibly witnessed it, must have kept a copy and included it in his memoir of the Divan. 72. Whyld, Simpson’s, page 22, inserted after “my countryman” the parenthetical comment “K. was wrong here.” However, if it was Hanover, Germany, where Ries had been born, that would not have been a mistake. 73. Harold Murray’s own translation of parts of Kiezeritzky’s article in the Berlin Schachzeitung, I (December 1846), pages 181–188 (here pages 182–184). It was found in the Bodleian Library, Oxford, among a typescript of translations Murray did from German magazines (ref: MS H. J. Murray 87). Henk Chervet of the Royal Dutch Library kindly sent us a copy of the original article. 74. H. A. Kennedy, Waifs and Strays, Chiefly from the Chess-board (1862), pages 101–104, and there is an imaginary sketch of a scene at the Divan later in the same book. 75. Susan Scott, archivist for the Savoy and Simpson’s group, told this author: “There are to my knowledge no surviving business records for Simpson’s prior to 1897. The purchase was part of a larger project, to acquire the freehold land to the north of the original Savoy Hotel (then comprising only the River Block), and around the Savoy Theatre. The Theatre, which had been built first and opened in 1881 was nearer the Strand, with the cheap seats directly accessible via a door in a dingy cul-de-sac called Beaufort Buildings. The project, which was steered by the Directors of the Savoy company, led by Richard D’Oyly Carte, was to acquire a very specific block of land. To the West this was boundaried by Carting Lane. To the south the boundary was a small road called Somerset Street (the south side of Somerset Street ran along the north side of The Savoy). To the east of the block was Savoy Buildings, and to the north was the Strand.

That’s the broad outline of the new plot. All buildings and businesses and I believe freeholds had to be acquired, and Simpson’s fell into this area. The project was not straightforward, and it took several years to complete the purchases, so Simpson’s certainly continued to bob along as it always had, until it was finally closed in 1903 for demolition and then rebuilt. Richard D’Oyly Carte had died in 1901, so it was his son, Rupert D’Oyly Carte, who, as the new Chairman, oversaw the further development, no doubt alongside Richard’s widow Helen (D’Oyly) Carte.” 76. The death notice is consistent with a baptism record at ancestry.co.uk showing a John Simpson, born 31 January 1787 and baptized seven days later at St. Mary-le-Bow, the son of Isaac and Alice Simpson. This is uncertain because at least one other John Simpson’s birth was recorded in London around that time. 77. Information from Simpson family tree at ancestry.co.uk, but this is a tentative suggestion and not solidly based on this author’s own research. 78. Morning Post, Friday, 13 February 1903. (Whyld just quoted a shorter piece that appeared in the paper’s chess column the following Monday.) 79. It is sometimes said that the demolition of the Divan was in order to facilitate widening of the Strand by 18 feet, but according to Susan Scott the primary reason was the Savoy group’s larger plans (mentioned in note 75 above) for redeveloping the hotel and theatre. 80. Howard Staunton, Chess Player’s Companion (London 1849), pages 380–496. 81. Article attributed to Charles Tomlinson: “Chess,” Quarterly Review, LXXXV (June 1849), pages 82–103; here page 102. 82. In the quotation above from Kieseritzky, a shilling was said to be the rate at the Divan, and Bird (Chess History, page 114) also said that was the usual stake at the St. George’s Chess Club, compared with sixpence at Goode’s. 83. B.L.L., 26 March 1837, said all playing for money should be prohibited to stop “shilling sharks.” 84. B.L.L., 27 September 1840. 85. B.L.L., 5 April 1840. 86. B.L.L., 16 April 1843. 87. Never in Edinburgh, 1842; optional in Liverpool, 1843. 88. I.L.N., IX (10 October 1846), page 240. 89. I.L.N., XV (20 October 1849), page 267. 90. B.C.M., XI (February 1891), page 50. 91. From an article about “Old England” by “Ideka” (Ignaz Kolisch) in the Wiener Allgemeine Zeitung, 21 February 1886, pages 1–3. The story about the kicking under the table was copied by Hoffer in his December 1886 Fortnightly Review article, and later was told by Lasker. Kolisch, though, claimed actually to have been present when this occurred. 92. Bird, Chess History, page 77. 93. “Rules of the St George’s Club” (1865); emphasis is in the original. 94. Baxter Wray [aka W. W. Morgan, Jr.], Chess at odds of pawn and move (Melbourne and New York, 2d ed., 1891). 95. G. W. Richmond, “On Odds,” in E. A. Michell (ed.), The YearBook of Chess, pages 1–10. 96. Obituary in I.S.D.N., XIV (27 November 1880), page 251. 97. John Henry Ellis, Chess Sparks, or, short and bright games of chess (London: Longmans 1895), game 87, pages 30–31. 98. Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, page 206. 99. Harding, Joseph Henry Blackburne, pages 40–44. 100. Kurt Landsberger (ed.), The Steinitz Papers (Jefferson: McFarland 2002), pages 19–20; the two letters to Kolisch quoted in this book were purchased by Landsberger from Hungarian chess writer Arpád Földeák, and their provenance is described there. 101. Landsberger, Steinitz Papers, page 21; acknowledgment of Kolisch’s letter was mentioned in a postscript, and Landsberger says there was an additional illegible word. Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch,

Notes—Chapters 4, 5 pages 207–208, also quotes the letter and suggests that the loan was probably made in January. Kolisch had returned to Paris in February, after about six months in England, and had perhaps expected to be repaid before he left. Anderberg also commented on this letter in Caissa. 102. There was indeed a German-language newspaper in London, which in 1863 was in its fifth year, entitled Hermann: Deutsches Wochenblatt aus London, for which Steinitz may have written or done editorial work, but from the issues we sampled there was no way of telling because articles were not bylined. 103. In I.L.N., 16 May 1863, the time limit was stated as 12 moves per hour but most sources say 24 moves in two hours. Staunton also mentioned a prize only to the winner but The Era of 3 May 1863 and the Illustrated News of the World said the loser would also receive a prize. The amounts were never stated. 104. B.L.L., 23 April 1864 (Walker commenting at White’s 12th move.) 105. On the early troubles of the Chess Player’s Magazine and the sacking of Harrwitz from the editorial chair, see Harding, Chess Literature, pages 133–135. 106. The Sporting Gazette, 23 May 1863. 107. I.C.M., I (1885), pages 142–143 and 210–211. 108. There is a lot more information about Frank Healey’s chess skills than about Edward. In the London-Bristol telegraph match during the 1861 B.C.A. Congress, Frank Healey had drawn with Horwitz playing level, so he might well have played Steinitz on even terms. The problemist Percy Healey (born 1873) was a son of Frank, as stated in Frank’s obituary in B.C.M., XXVI (1906), page 136, which also testifies to his strength as a first class player. 109. See Chapter 4. 110. Harding, Joseph Henry Blackburne, page 43, had the wrong date of publication in the I.L.N. 111. Sergeant, British Chess, page 135. 112. Hans Renette and Fabrizio Zavatarelli, Neumann, Hirschfeld and Suhle (Jefferson: McFarland 2018). The section on Hirschfeld is on pages 75–155. 113. T.C.M., XI (September 1889), page 2, cited by Renette and Zavatarelli, who also say (page 4) they believe Hirschfeld tried to prevent his lost games from being published. 114. David Hooper and Kenneth Whyld, The Oxford Companion to Chess (1st ed., Oxford University Press 1984), page 351; Bachmann, Schachmeister Steinitz, 2d ed., vol. 1, pages 72–76. 115. Bachmann gave it as a seven game match (scored 6–0 with one draw) which he wrongly dated to May 1864, which is when some of the games were published. His sequence differs from ours.

Chapter 4 1. James Mavor, My Windows on the Street of the World (London and New York 1923), page 80. The Steinitz pamphlet was probably published privately in London during the late 1870s or early 1880s. Perhaps one clue is a mysterious reply to a correspondent of Land and Water on 19 May 1877: “We have never seen the pamphlet you describe. It was probably printed for private circulation only.” More from Mavor’s book can be found in Chapter 10, and online at http:// www.chesshistory.com/winter/winter112.html. 2. C.P.M., ns 1 (January 1865), page 8. This corrected his review in The Era of 1 January 1865 which said Steinitz had won a QN odds match with an Edward Herley at Purssell’s; clearly “Herley” was a misprint. 3. Sergeant, British Chess, page 94 says Frank was the younger, and on page 134 he mentions Edward’s business address. 27 Change Alley (between Cornhill and Lombard Street, so very close to Purssell’s) is confirmed by advertisements in the Daily News in 1849 and 1864 for the weekly publication Investors’ Guardian of which “Mr. Healey” was apparently the publisher. The address is the same as on the early issues of the C.P.M.

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4. This game was omitted in error from the index to volume 2 of Chess Player’s Magazine. Professor Rod Edwards informs us that there was a W. J. Franklin in the Blackheath Chess Club at this time, but also a W. L. Franklin in London, and there are mentions of a William Franklin in both Bristol and Liverpool at various times. Reports in chess columns tended just to give surnames (sometimes prefaced by “Mr.”) with initials and forenames rarely clarified for minor amateurs. 5. Mieses-Anderssen was published in the Leipzig Illustrirte Zeitung on 14 December 1861, page 435, but was not mentioned in the C.P.M. article. 6. This is the form of his name used by ChessBase but many alternative versions in Western script have been seen of this strong Bengali chess-player who was a frequent opponent of Cochrane. “Moheschunder” and “Moheshunder” are among the variants and Mahesh Chandra Banerjee may be more accurate. 7. C.P.M., III (January 1865), page 27. 8. The Era, 9 April 1865, and C.P.M., III (1865), page 160. Belayev appears to have lived in London for many years, or visited several times; see Game 388. 9. The Era, 28 May 1865. Rod Edwards also cites Transactions 1868/9 page 1 and 13; Barber was listed as being elected to the British Chess Association committee. 10. See Harding, Joseph Henry Blackburne, page 52. 11. The Era, 17 December 1865. 12. The Era, 26 February 1865. A small booklet was produced to mark the event: St. James’ Chess Club, A Brief Report of the Chess Match by Electric Telegraph, between the St. James’ Chess Club, London, and the Dublin Athæneum [sic] club of Dublin, played on Wednesday, Feb. 22nd 1865, and a record of the games (London 1865). 13. Dublin Evening Mail, 12 March 1891. 14. C.P.M., ns 1 (1865), pages 282–288, had the rules which also appeared in Irish newspapers. 15. C.P.M., ns 1 (1865), page 285. 16. Eliot Hearst and John Knott, Blindfold Chess (Jefferson: McFarland 2009), page 48. 17. Benito Lopez Esnaola, Ajedrez a la Ciega (Blindfold Chess), 2d ed. (Club Ajedrez, Madrid 1998), pages 146–151. Hearst and Knott cited pages 146–150 in the first (1989) edition which this author has not seen. The difference is probably only an additional game score or two. 18. Weekly Northern Whig, 14 October 1865. 19. Saunders’s Newsletter and Daily Advertiser, 10 October 1865, the longest and apparently the original report. 20. This is the fullest and original version of the report, which appeared in Saunders’s Newsletter, Tuesday, 17 October, afterwards copied to some extent in papers such as the Belfast News-Letter, 19 October, etc. A short summary appeared in B.L.L., 21 October 1865, but without any new information. A report also appeared in T.C.W, I (1865), pages 300–301. 21. Rynd’s birth year is sometimes given as 1847 or 1855, the latter bring obviously far too late, but Kenneth Ferguson (ed.), King’s Inns Barristers 1868–2004 (Dublin 2005), page 293, shows he was born on 6 April 1846 and died 17 March 1917. His obituary was in the Irish Law Times and Solicitors Journal, LI (1917), page 74. 22. Dublin Evening Herald, Saturday, 12 March 1892. 23. C.P.M., ns 2 (January 1866), page 10. 24. The Era, 7 January 1866. 25. C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), page 59. 26. T.C.W., I, page 379.

Chapter 5 1. MacDonnell, Life-Pictures, pages 156–157. In Chapter 8 something will be said of a revival at the Divan after the Westminster Chess Club closed.

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2. The Chess World, I (April 1865), page 60. The literal meaning of the Latin tag in nubibus is “in the clouds”; by analogy, it means in abeyance, or unfulfilled. 3. B.L.L., 16 April 1870. 4. J. Löwenthal and G. W. Medley (eds.), Transactions of the British Chess Association for the Years 1866 and 1867 (London 1868), page 1. 5. C.P.M., ns 2 (1866), page 200 (footnote). 6. The 1866 B.C.A. Congress has been re-examined by Hübner in two interesting articles for Caissa magazine (1/2018 and 2/2018) that include previously unpublished games he found in a manuscript notebook that used to belong to J. W. Rimington Wilson but may have been written by Löwenthal. His second article deals with the Handicap tournament but does not present much new information about Steinitz. Since Hübner did not find the report in C.P.M. his article lacks some information that was available and says that the consultation game he annotated was the first when actually it was the second. (They were in reverse order in both the Transactions and Bachmann.) 7. In the Hübner article, page 51, this game is dated 27 July but as it was a first round pairing, that must be a misprint. Two pages later he has a third round game by Green dated the 28th of July. 8. G. A. MacDonnell, Knights and Kings, pages 109–112. It may be noted that T. B. Simpson was the proprietor of the tavern where the meeting he describes took place. “Alexander” was Dr. Charles Revans Alexander, whose obituary may be found in W.P., IV (November 1871), page 118. 9. The Chess World, II (June 1866), pages 154–155; see also pages 132–133 in the same number. 10. I.L.N., 21 July 1866. 11. B.L.L., 4 August 1866. Then on 6 October Walker recommended the club. 12. The Era, 10 February 1867. The “bun-house” was the London Chess Club, since it was situated at Purssell’s, but it is not known why the St. George’s was styled the “ice-house.” 13. I.S.D.N., XLII (19 January 1895), page 712. Ultimately Forster and Steinitz each received half of the winnings, namely £50 apiece. Had Steinitz lost the match, Forster would have lost £120 (or £100 if he had asked for the advance to be repaid). 14. G. R. Neumann, A. Anderssens Schachpartieen aus den Jahre 1864 und 1865 (Berlin 1866); Renette and Zavatarelli, op. cit., page 234. 15. Fortnightly Review (December 1886), page 760. 16. The lawyer and statesman Charles Russell (late Lord Russell of Killowen). 17. I.C.M., I (November 1885), page 333. 18. D.S.Z., XXI (October 1866), page 295, cited in Bernard P. Kiernan, “A History of International Master Chess, 1851–1914” (PhD thesis, American University 1957), page 118. Kiernan was probably the first writer to explain in a chess history book how the stakes for matches worked and the money divided between the winning player and his backers. 19. I.L.N., 21 July 1866; T.C.W., II (1866/1867), pages 176–178. 20. http://chessarch.com/archive/1866.07.18_Anderssen-Steinitz/ index.shtml although Pope’s article has one silly mistake saying 23 July was a Wednesday instead of a Monday. 21. The mistaken statement that Forster was a member of the Westminster Chess Club was also in the Field of 21 July so was probably a common misunderstanding. 22. C.P.M., page 320, also named the seconds. 23. Sergeant, British Chess, page 142, mistakenly said that the first game of the match was played at Haxell’s Hotel. As mentioned above, that became the home of the Westminster Club only from Monday, 17 September. 24. The photographer Mayall was identified by Staunton in the I.L.N., 27 October 1866, saying, “The likenesses are certainly admirable.”

25. See the book of the London 1862 Congress (Regulation 2, page lii) and the similar regulation in the Transactions 66/67, page 5. 26. Hooper & Whyld, Oxford Companion (1st ed.), pages 68–69; here, page 68. 27. B.C.M., LV (1935), page 319. 28. Dr. H. V. Klein, “Der Zeitbegriff im Schach und die Entstehung des Schnellspiels,” D.S.Z., XC (January 1935), pages 4–9, here pages 4–5. On the clocks used in the London 1883 tournament, see Chapter 12. 29. 28 July is the date stated for game 7 both in Pope’s online article in James H. Gelo (ed.), Chess World Championships: All the Games, All with Diagrams volume 1 (3d ed, Jefferson: McFarland 2006). Gelo provides no evidence, and does not state the venues, so he probably found the dating in Pope. 30. A. Buschke (ed.), California Chess Reporter, supplement no. 2: Adolf Anderssen–William Steinitz: world championship match 1866 (San Francisco 1952). He says Chigorin’s articles about the match appeared in Novoe Vremya between 7 May and 29 June 1891 (25 April to 17 June old style). 31. Robert Hübner, “Der Wettkampf Anderssen–Steinitz, London 1866,” in Arno Nickel (ed.), Schachkalendar 2016, pages 172–199. 32. It is unclear who conducted the chess column which appeared somewhat irregularly in The Era during the second half after 1866 after Löwenthal’s resignation as editor at the end of April, which had probably been engineered by Staunton. The new column that began in 1867 was almost certainly conducted first by Staunton and afterwards by Duffy. 33. James H. Gelo (ed.), Chess World Championships, volume 1 (3d ed., Jefferson: McFarland 2006), pages 235–243. 34. California Chess Reporter, page 18. 35. I.L.N., VOL (18 August 1866), page 171; Yorkshire Gazette, 17 August 1866; Manchester Courier, same day; T.C.W., II (September 1866), page 196. 36. The Chess World, II (September 1866), page 202. 37. I.L.N., 15 September 1866. 38. B.L.L., 11 August 1866. 39. Flora’s birth and baptism records both say the 7th. Landsberger also stated 17 September was the latest day allowed for a birth on 7 August, “and it is possible that the mother delayed until after the deadline [for the 6th] in the hope of persuading the father to permit his name to go to forward.” That seems to be based on a misunderstanding of the law at the time. The Births and Deaths Registration Act 1874, which put the onus on parents to register the birth of babies within 42 days, only came into force when Flora was 8 years old. The previous Act of 1836 (amended in 1858) put the onus on the Registrar to discover births in his area. 40. Hooper & Whyld, Oxford Companion, page 330 in the first edition. 41. Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 33. 42. Bethnal Green, Jan-Feb-Mar 1845, vol. 2, page 42. 43. The Field, 15 September 1866. 44. H. E. Bird, Modern Chess and Chess Masterpieces, Part II (London 1885), page 35. That book did not mention the amount of the stakes. 45. Bird said 21 games in his “A Slight Retrospect and Explanation” (1880), page 2, a privately published pamphlet. The author is grateful to Hans Renette for supplying a photocopy of this rare document. The figure of 18 was in a passage from Modern Chess which is quoted in full below. 46. T.C.W., II (September 1866), page 217. He had written something similar in the I.L.N. of 15 September. 47. Renette, H. E. Bird, page 99 (note 14), says Bird gave different figures in his book Chess Practice (1882), page 17, and Chess History and Reminiscences (1893), page 115. The higher figure is in the latter book. 48. The Field of 15 September included the scores of games 1 and

Notes—Chapter 6 2. References to The Field below, and elsewhere in this chapter, have been checked against the original newspaper. 49. Gelo, World Championships, pages 235–243, just gives the bare scores of the games citing no sources or other information. 50. This is a problem which affects several years of the Field scrapbooks in the John G. White Collection and it means that all citations of The Field in Renette’s book from pages 100 to 105 are dated incorrectly and consequently his chronology of events is affected. (The British Newspaper Archive’s digitization of some years of The Field became available only in the summer of 2019, just as the manuscript of the present book was being submitted to the publisher.) The author is grateful to Mr. Renette for checking this section of the chapter, and making some valuable suggestions, to ensure we agreed about the facts. 51. I.L.N., 15 and 22 September 1866. Bird, and perhaps also Steinitz, were probably among those who were away. On the 22nd Staunton also said that the club “has now entirely removed to Haxell’s.” 52. The Era, 21 October 1866, but the score-line it gave may be disregarded as clearly out of date, being the same as in the I.L.N. of 6 October and well behind the scores published in the rival columns the previous weekend. For the evidence that Steinitz visited Birmingham, see the games with Earnshaw later in this chapter. 53. Both the Illustrated London News and The Field of 17 November reported that this was the score with 16 games finished. The score-line may have been inserted at proof stage, assuming the chess editors received galley proofs to correct. To fit in with Bird’s known arrival date in America (see below), Game 16 cannot have been played later than 14 November and the unfinished Game 17 was started later the same week. 54. Bird’s railroad work and his accountancy career in general were outlined in Harding, Eminent Victorians, pages 110–111, but later researched and explained in far more detail in Renette, H.E. Bird, especially page 91 and pages 93–94 in connection with the Atlantic and Great Western Railway. 55. H. E. Bird, Modern Chess, page 35, quoted in Renette, op. cit., pages 105–106. Clearly it was during the 16th game that he received the telegram as the 17th was the last. 56. Renette has found a copy of the Scotia’s manifest, filed at Ellis Island in New York, which indeed lists H. E. Bird as one of the passengers, and a New York Times report confirming the Scotia’s arrival on the 27th. 57. Various digitized news reports (unavailable to Renette when he was researching his Bird biography) show when Bird left England. The Scotia had not remained in Liverpool during the week but, presumably with freight to deliver or collect, she was in Dundee on the 14th and heading for London. Due to bad weather in the North Sea, plans must have changed. She left Tyneside on the morning of the 16th, bound for Grangemouth (in west Scotland) but was caught in the storm and had to be brought back in by tug with her engines stopped and her stern nearly level with the water (Newcastle Journal, 17 November 1866). The storm abated in the evening and somehow she made it back to Liverpool in time to sail the following evening on schedule (or perhaps delayed by one tide). At 2 p.m. next day she exchanged mails at Queenstown (Cobh in southern Ireland) before departing for New York at 4 p.m., arriving on the 27th as Mackenzie said. 58. Bird, Modern Chess, pages 35–36. 59. Harding, Eminent Victorians, page 109, was the first chess book to reveal that in 1855 Bird had married, but the author failed to discover the fate of his wife, Eliza, née Cain. Renette, op. cit., discovered more about her, including the fact that she died in 1868; see pages 60–61, 64–66 and 91–92 of his book. The marriage was childless. 60. New York Albion, 29 December 1866. The question of Neumann’s challenges will be discussed in the next chapter. 61. I.L.N., 24 November 1866.

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62. Shields Daily News, Wednesday, 28 November 1866. Duffy’s hostility to Steinitz seems to date from this point because he was a close friend and colleague of Bird. Alan Smith (in a private email) cited the fact that Duffy sent a Steinitz miniature to the Shields Daily News a few weeks previously (see the note to Game 142) as an indication that Duffy and Steinitz were not always enemies. 63. Steinitz’s damning recollections about Staunton are to be found in one of his polemical rants in the series “A Literary Steinitz Gambit,” I.C.M., IV (July 1888), pages 211–213. There is more about this early in the next chapter. 64. I.L.N., XLIX (29 December 1866), page 651. 65. Bird, Retrospect, page 2. 66. Calculation from https://www.measuringworth.com/calcula tors/ukcompare/relativevalue.php based on comparing 1866 and 2018 values; the 2020 figure would be higher. 67. We perhaps should also bear in mind that Steinitz may have already made his arrangements with G. B. Fraser to visit Scotland, as described in the next chapter, for which he probably had to leave London about the 20th of January 1867. If he allowed Bird an indefinite postponement, could he be sure that another long postponement would not be required in the New Year, either for Bird or himself? Then in the summer of 1867 there would be the Paris and Dundee tournaments. 68. I.S.D.N., 12 July 1879. 69. Samuel Walter Earnshaw (1833–1887), who also played Steinitz in the 1870s, was a friend of Boden. There is a pen-picture of him in MacDonnell, Knights and Kings, pages 192–194.

Chapter 6 1. B.L.L., 11 August 1866. 2. L&W, 13 March 1880, page 225. There is more on Löwe in Chapter 10. 3. I.C.M., IV (July 1888), page 211. 4. I.C.M, IV (July 1888), page 212. 5. MacDonnell, Knights and Kings, page 110, wrote: “In 1867 Steinitz left us, and in 1868 Staunton abandoned his old friends for solitary grandeur.” The circumstances of Staunton’s departure from the club was discussed in some detail by MacDonnell in his earlier book Chess Life-Pictures, quoted from Harding, Eminent Victorians, page 68. 6. The Chess-Monthly editorial (volume 5, page 2) is quoted in Chapter 12. See Appendix VI for Steinitz’s reply in full. 7. Turf, Field and Farm, 26 October 1883. The full text is Appendix VI, and the composition of the 1883 tournament playing committee will be discussed in its proper place in Chapter 12. 8. The spelling “Frazer” is occasionally seen for Dr. Fraser in Scottish primary sources. 9. He finished only ninth of 13 competitors in the 1876 Counties Chess Association tournament at Cheltenham, probably the strongest of the series, in which virtually all the top players out of London competed: The Field, XLVIII (19 August 1876), page 230. Fraser probably played too much chess against inferior opponents, giving odds and experimenting with gambits, to be able to adjust quickly when he had strong opposition. 10. Jenkin was the Glasgow Weekly Herald columnist and the C.P.C. editor in 1876. Fraser’s claim that he always beat Jenkin was found in the correspondence mentioned in the next note. 11. Letters relating to chess from George Brinton [sic] Fraser, in the John G. White Collection at the Cleveland Public Library, USA. 12. Fraser to White, 12 February 1876. 13. The column began on the 14 July 1862. It is awkward to follow as, unusually, it was in a daily but did not appear regularly on the same day each week. Fraser told White it ended in 1864. 14. Fraser to White, 20 June 1876. 15. Fraser had a brief obituary in B.C.M., XXV (January 1906),

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page 15, and a death notice appeared in the Dundee Advertiser of 2 December 1905, but his exact date of birth is unknown. Some of the facts about him revealed here were discovered by this author, with the assistance of Dundee Public Library, when researching the history of correspondence chess. Other details, especially his parentage, were found in 2014 at the Scottish Record Office by Ms. Anne M. Rankin (in return for research done for her in Dublin) but have not previously been published. 16. Dundee Courier, 31 January 1867. 17. Peter W. Walsh, The Story of Dundee Chess Club: Its Personalities and Games (Dundee 1984). 18. Transactions 66/67, pages 7–8. 19. Fortnightly Review (December 1886), page 756. 20. Renette and Zavatarelli, op. cit., page 274, say From was an inspector of prisons and his visit to France was partly work-related. 21. G. R. L. Neumann and J. Arnous de Rivière (eds.), Congrès International des Échecs (Paris 1868). 22. Neumann & Arnous de Rivière, page lxxx, regrets that one of the principal chess champions of France had to withdraw because of: “…les importants et nombreux travaux don’t il était chargé comme membre de la Commission de l’Exposition universelle l’obligèrent de renoncer au Tournoi.” 23. T.C.M., X (May 1889), page 258, quoted by Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, page 242. 24. The documentary evidence can be read in Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, pages 241–243. 25. One point, which the author forgot to include in his British Chess Literature to 1914, is that volume 3 of The Chess World ran not from March 1867 to February 1868 (as the cover of the Moravian Chess reprint says) but rather March to March. The third number of the volume was for May and June. The fifth number (pages 153–192) includes the Paris tournament crosstable which could not have been known in time for July publication if the magazine was on schedule. Moreover, the Moravian Chess reprint of Volume 3 includes the index to volume 2, while the real index to volume 3 is in the Google Books pdf of volume 4! 26. Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, XXXV (June–November 1867), page 788. 27. Ibid., pages 788–789. Kolisch found a buyer for the Sèvres vase (presented by Napoleon III) but much later, when he was wealthy Baron Kolisch, he bought it back at a sale. Apropos of the reference to Morphy in this passage, he was actually then in Paris where he had a married sister, but he never visited the tournament: David Lawson, Paul Morphy: The Pride and Sorrow of Chess (new ed. by Thomas Aiello, University of Louisiana 2010), page 299. 28. Mingrelia was an independent principality in Georgia. Some information about Baron Emile D’André is found in the website Heritage des Echecs Français: http://heritageechecsfra.free.fr/dandre. htm on 23 May 2019. He was a naval officer. Gaige, Chess Personalia, lists Prince Andrey Davidovich Dadian of Mingrelia (1850–1910) under the initial M. 29. Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, page 261, translating Neumann’s account in D.S.Z., XXIV (November 1869), page 326. Readers may find more detailed annotations in the Renette and Zavatarelli triple biography, game 583 on pages 274–275, where the authors point out several errors in the game. 30. Rivière, pages 262–263; note to move 12 and the final note on the latter page. 31. In the Neumann book, page 277, draws are shown as halves. More seriously, Czarnowski is shown as winning by forfeit against Arnous de Rivière, whereas the reverse was the case. In the Kolisch book, page 240, Neumann is shown as losing twice to Kolisch instead of one win each; the results in the Kolisch row are correct. Czarnowski versus Arnous de Rivière is wrong in that book too. 32. T.C.W., III (September 1867), pages 222–227; the allegation of game-fixing is on pages 225–226.

33. Ibid., page 225 (note). 34. Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, Chapter XI passim, but especially pages 236–237 and 243. 35. The Field, XXX (27 July 1867), page 81, had received a report that a match had begun between Winavere [sic] and Steinitz, the former winning the first two games. A footnote stated that other accounts named Winawer and Neumann. Neither was correct. 36. La Stratégie, I (August 1867), page 192. 37. The Field, loc. cit. 38. Dundee Advertiser, 6 September 1867. There is no shortage of reports about the British Association meetings in Dundee in 1867 and many are available online in the British Newspaper Archive. 39. Renette and Zavatarelli, op. cit., pages 287–288. 40. The Dundee Courier, 5 September, says the Congress commenced in the Railway Buildings, South Union Street, which was in Dundee. Transactions 66/67, page 8, says the same. Then the Dundee Courier, 7 September, reporting the third round, says: “The competitors resumed play yesterday forenoon, about eleven o’clock, in the room at the West Dock Street Railway Station.” These are in fact references to the same place in west Dundee, where the terminus of the Caledonian Railway was situated. The later games in the Scottish tournament and all the games in the Handicap tournament appear to have been played in the rooms of the Dundee Chess Club. 41. Transactions 66/67, page 5 (rules of the 1866 Congress) and page 8 (stating the reducing of the time limit and the half-point draw rule). See also the Dundee Advertiser, 5 September 1867. 42. Boden noted in The Field, XXX (12 October 1867), page 297, that: “Throughout this tournament Mr. G. B. Fraser’s play was below his mark; the fact being, we understand, that the duties of host devolved too heavily upon him, and were performed too handsomely by him, to admit of his paying the requisite attention to his games.” 43. Walsh, Dundee Chess Club, page 20. 44. Hans Renette in Renette and Zavatarelli, op. cit., pages 287– 298. Tim Harding, Joseph Henry Blackburne, pages 54–58, including a lengthy digression about the Hamel family on pages 54–55. 45. Owen Hindle and Bob Jones, The English Morphy? The Life and Games of Cecil de Vere First British Chess Champion (Exmouth 2001). 46. John G. White Collection: Fraser to White, 5 February 1877. 47. Gillam 67 says the game with Hamel was played at an unknown date during the first seven rounds, but this is unclear from the total scores published in the two Dundee papers on various dates. The previous table in the Dundee Advertiser of 10 September does not show any additional games by Steinitz on the first five days of play. 48. MacDonnell, Life-Pictures, pages 51–52. That chapter was based on MacDonnell’s recollections of de Vere in I.S.D.N., XVI (19 November 1881), page 227 and is quoted in Hindle & Jones, De Vere, page 13. 49. Dundee Courier, 20 September 1867. This report mentioned the withdrawal of de Vere from the Handicap but not that of MacDonnell. 50. The reader is warned that in T.C.W. III (December 1867), page 333, there is a game versus G. B. Fraser erroneously said to be against Steinitz, but the note on the preceding page to the previous game shows this was a misprint and Fraser’s opponent was actually Patrick Scott. 51. Dundee Advertiser, 23 September 1867; there was also a report in the Dundee Courier. 52. Dundee Advertiser, 24 September 1867. 53. Renette and Zavatarelli, op. cit., passim. In a private email to the author, Renette wrote: “I think his [Neumann’s] personality played a role in the non-occurrence of a match…. As he was a much lesser name then than Anderssen, it is not too surprising that interest was less.”

Notes—Chapter 7

Chapter 7 1. Harding, Joseph Henry Blackburne, page 68. 2. W.P., IX (May 1876), page 4, in a profile of Potter. 3. D.S.Z, XXIII (April 1868), page 116: Composed position 2595, by W. Steinitz and J. Schumoff; White to play and mate in 3 moves. When the solution was published in December (page 370) only the Russian was named. 4. The Westminster Chess Club Papers, I, page 55. 5. Transactions 68/69, pages 1–3 (and also reported in Transactions 66/67). 6. The Weekly Dispatch of 6 December 1868 says that on the Wednesday the proceedings “were adjourned to the various chess clubs of the metropolis” but they met at the Hall again on the Thursday, so there had presumably been a prior booking for the Wednesday. 7. For more information on the B.C.A. Congress of 1868/9 see Blackburne, page 58, et seq. 8. Transactions 68/69, page 4. The 1868/9 B.C.A. Congress was re-examined by Hübner for Caissa 2/2017 in an article which includes previously unpublished games he found in a manuscript notebook, but it did not present any new information about Steinitz. 9. Weekly Dispatch, 13 December 1868. The first report appeared in The Glowworm on Tuesday, 8 December. See also Harding, Joseph Henry Blackburne, pages 61–62, for more about this event. 10. C.P.Q.C. vol. 1, no. 5 (February 1869), page 155. 11. Lopez Esnaola, op. cit., page 147, says the blindfold match was at the St. James’s Club but it was the St. James’s Hall, which was not the same place. He also dates the event 11 December but news reports show it was Friday, 4 December 1868. 12. Transactions 68/69, page 13. 13. Steinitz, Instructor, II: 1, page 40, cols. 17–18 and notes; I. Lipnitsky, Questions of Modern Chess Theory (translated by John Sugden; Glasgow: Quality Chess 2008), page 43. The date of Löwenthal’s article in C.P.Q.C, was misprinted there as 1896 instead of 1869, but some of his analysis had appeared earlier in the book of the 1862 London Congress, page 102. 14. On Hermann Eschwege (who may have changed the spelling of his name), see CN 4037 at www.chesshistory.com/winter/winter16. html (25 November 2005), quoting from William Winter’s memoirs about J. Walter Russell organizing the expulsion of German-born members of the City of London Chess Club during the First World War. 15. L&W, XIII (10 February 1872), page 103. 16. L&W, XI (14 January 1871), pages 32–33. 17. L&W, XIII (13 January 1872), page 32. 18. L&W, XI (25 February 1871), page 146. It was also said that Burn had returned to Liverpool. 19. Steinitz wrote in I.C.M., II (September 1886), page 275: “As is well known I am not very fond of Bird, while Burn is an intimate friend and former pupil of mine of whom I am very proud.” 20. Some might say that Bird or H. E. Atkins ought to be included here, but only Blackburne and Burn won major international tournaments (Berlin 1881 and Cologne 1898 respectively). 21. Richard Forster, Amos Burn: A Chess Biography (Jefferson: McFarland 2004), especially page 27. 22. B.C.M., XIII (1893), pages 1–17 (listing the honorary members on 4–5) and 139 (naming the original members) and 196. 23. John Swan, “Our Magazine,” LMA/4721/01 (one bound volume). 24. London City Press, 10 March 1866; The Era, 25 March 1866. 25. Cunningham had seen the minute books so this is probably accurate, although the 1905 annual report says Blackburne was elected in 1865. That was perhaps as an ordinary member. 26. Landsberger, understandably, took Sergeant’s ambiguous passage to mean that 1867 was the year they elected Steinitz. 27. Renette, H. E. Bird, page 116; Bird had previously been an ordinary paying member.

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28. L&W, XII (16 September 1871), pages 190–191. 29. Sergeant, British Chess, gives the membership figure which may be too low; a contemporary account in Land and Water, 14 October 1871, says they already had 200 members then. L&W, 28 December 1872, included a memorandum from the club secretary about the move. 30. L&W, XVIII (19 September 1874), page 231; Morning Post, 15 September 1874. 31. The Field, XLIV (12 & 19 September 1874), pages 276 and 300 respectively. 32. East Central Times, 31 August 1889. 33. The Standard and the Morning Post, both 3 October 1892. 34. In the late 1960s many inter-county matches were still held on Saturday afternoons at the rebuilt John Lewis’s; the author played there on several occasions. 35. This author fell into the same trap in Eminent Victorian Chess Players but set the record straight in Joseph Henry Blackburne, page 71. 36. Madan’s speech is preserved in his notebook at Oxford where he became head librarian in 1912. The present author read this many years ago and is grateful to Jonathan Manley for checking it, and also making many other searches in Oxford. The reason why 1926 was the 50th match, although the series began in 1873, is that there was no contest in some years during the First World War. Lord Randolph Churchill’s role in founding the club is also mentioned in Winston Churchill’s biography of his father. 37. J[ames] M[anders] Walker, The history of the Oxford University Chess Club, compiled from the Club Minute Books, by J. M. Walker, formerly President of the Club (Oxford 1885). This includes, at the end, a page of advertisements for his intended Reminiscences and for the Oxford Review. 38. This was probably Edward Lancelot Holland who matriculated at University College in 1867 and graduated in 1870: Joseph Foster (ed.), Alumni Oxonienses, the Members of the University of Oxford 1715–1866 (4 vols.; Oxford 1888) II, page 678. 39. Walker put the statement in quotation marks but left it unclear whom he was quoting; perhaps this remark was somewhere in the minutes? 40. Alumni Oxonienses III, page 854. 41. Sheffield Daily Telegraph, 19 May 1870; Sheffield Independent, 28 May; The Era, 12 June. 42. Yorkshire Post, 27 May 1870. 43. The initials of the consulting players were found in an attendance list for the Halifax meeting in the Huddersfield Chronicle of 28 May. Inman had traveled up from London. 44. A short paragraph announcing the planned tournament also appeared in D.S.Z., XXIII (September 1868), page 279; more details followed in October on pages 304–306. See also Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, pages 276–278 and 284. Mikhail Stourdza (or Sturdza, 1795– 1884), who was Prince of Moldavia from 1834 to 1849, was probably largely a figurehead. 45. Stefan Haas, Das Schachturnier zu Baden-Baden 1870 (Ludwigshafen 2006), page 13. Translation from German courtesy of Bert Corneth. 46. Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, especially page 288, citing the rules printed in W.P., III (August 1870), page 49, some of which had to be adapted to the actual circumstances of the war nearby. 47. Wiener Allgemeine Zeitung, 9 January 1887, pages 1–3. 48. L&W, X (27 August 1870), page 154 (Löwenthal’s very first article in that publication). This was Rule 5. 49. A. J. Gillam, Baden Baden 1870 (Chess Player, Nottingham 1999); translations from German sources were by A. J. Swift. 50. Translated in Landsberger (ed.), Steinitz Papers, pages 21–22, and reprinted in Zavatarelli, op. cit, page 289. 51. His name can be seen there in the visitor list of the Badeblatt of 13 July, an illustration in Haas’s book.

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52. Cezary W. Domanski and Tomasz Lissowski, Der Grossmeister aus Lublin: Wahrheit und Legende über Johannes Hermann Zukertort (Berlin: Exzelsior Verlag 2005), page 51, and note 23 on page 75. 53. Jimmy Adams, Johannes Zukertort: Artist of the Chessboard (Alkmaar: New In Chess 2014), pages 24–25, based on research by Ulrich Grammel, also debunks suggestions that Zukertort could not play in Baden-Baden because of military service, and points out many other fabrications by Zukertort about his early achievements. Steinitz famously in later years queried why some people honored Zukertort with the title Doctor which he did not earn, either by medical studies or otherwise. 54. There is a report of the start of the Congress in W.P., III (1870– 1871), page 49. There are more details in Gillam and Haas and in Zavatarelli’s aforementioned book. 55. W.P., III (September 1870), pages 72–73. 56. Haas, Baden-Baden, page 52. 57. Harding, Joseph Henry Blackburne, page 74, retold from Haas, page 37. 58. W.P., III (September 1870), page 72. 59. J. H. Zukertort, “Forty Years in the Life of a Favourite,” (Part 2), in W.P., VI (March 1874), page 224. 60. D.S.Z., XXV (September 1870), page 261, English translation in Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, page 289. Possibly the original text was in English but if so it has not been preserved. 61. The Kolisch feuilleton including the story was not available at the time Zavatarelli wrote his book. 62. L. Hoffer, “Progress of the game from the early days to the present time,” in The Field, 31 December 1910. 63. W.P., III (November 1871), page 106; the evidence for Rynd’s embezzlement was found by the author in the papers of the Dublin Chess Club, and may be presented in a future article. 64. “Oxford University CC 1873–1928” in the Bodleian Library modern manuscripts, ref. 38472 b1; the author is grateful to Jonathan Manley for supplying a copy. 65. Of the students who played blindfold against Steinitz in his various visits to Oxford, Daubeny is the hardest to identify because the club and newspaper sources indicate no forename or initial or even his college, and sometimes the spelling “Daubeney” is seen. Of the many candidates in Alumni Oxonienses, the most likely is William Arthur Daubeny (Queen’s College) who matriculated in 1865, aged 20, took his B.A. in 1872 and went on to the Inner Temple. 66. C.P.Q.C., 1870/1871, pages 218–219. In an article “Chess doings in the past year,” in The Observer of 8 January 1871, Steinitz’s visits to Oxford were mentioned and reference was made to the presence at this second exhibition of “Prince Hassam [sic], son of the Viceroy of Egypt, who is at present studying at Oxford.” The person meant was probably Prince Hassan Ismail, although Wikipedia says he was born only in 1854. 67. The church itself is on Fore Street, part of the Barbican complex, having been rebuilt from 16th century plans following destruction in the Blitz. 68. Grocers Hall is just off Princes Street and that was one of the later 19th century addresses of the City of London Chess Club (but only after Steinitz resigned). 69. See for example The Era, 18 March 1866. Sich’s forename is unknown but his initial is seen in a report in The Era on 9 April 1865.

Chapter 8 1. L&W, XIII (14 October 1871). 2. The few reports on this tournament that mention him definitely say “Lawson,” e.g., The Era, 19 November 1871 and L&W, 14 December 1871. Reports on City Club Handicaps in the next two seasons have “Lowson” who, given the handicaps received, was probably the same player.

3. Thomson’s initial was possibly R., as shown in a table for the previous City Club Handicap in Forster’s, Amos Burn, page 32, but his source is unknown. 4. The 9 March issue was missing from the British Library’s microfilm of the Oxford Undergraduates’ Journal. This author is grateful to Jonathan Manley and Niels Sampath of the Oxford Union Library for supplying a copy of this crucial article. Some shorter reports of Steinitz’s visit appeared elsewhere, e.g., L&W, 9 March 1872. 5. On the postal matches between Cambridge and Oxford, see Harding, Correspondence Chess, pages 46–47 and 107–108. 6. This is a truncated reference to the Latin tag meaning “Those whom the Gods wish to destroy they first drive mad.” 7. “Chess Doings in the Past Year,” The Observer, 7 January 1872 (page 2): “Mr. Wisker has been appointed Honorary Secretary of the Association.” There is very little information about the office holders of the B.C.A. in its latter years and it gradually petered out after 1872. It had expired before the deaths of Lord Lyttelton and Löwenthal in 1876. 8. Harding, Eminent Victorians, page 146. 9. A. J. Gillam, London 1872, Altona 1872 (Nottingham 2012). Some of his dating is incorrect and also, when quoting from The Field, Gillam credited S. S. Boden (perhaps because of Whyld’s belief that he had resumed editing the column) but the reports in The Field during 1872 are usually credited to de Vere. There are several unclear issues about who was editing the column at various times between 1870 and 1873; for details, see the discussion in Harding, British Chess Literature, pages 61–62. 10. W.P., V (July 1872), page 38. 11. Steinitz drew with Zukertort only in the Handicap tournament so they were misinformed here. 12. Hoffer, in his controversial December 1886 Fortnightly Review article, page 760, said that when Steinitz heard Zukertort was coming to London for the tournament, “he sat closeted for days in a gentleman’s house, who had a large chess library, in order to study Zukertort’s analysis of the Steinitz gambit until he detected a flaw in it.” Then he invited Zukertort for breakfast (Hoffer was also present) and “cross-examined him for hours.” So that when Zukertort left, Steinitz “knew as much of his opinion on certain openings as Zukertort himself,” and the Prussian received nothing in return. The usual caveats about that article, and Hoffer’s comments on Steinitz in general, must be taken into account. 13. American Chess Magazine, I (August 1897), pages 174–175, reprinted from the New York Evening Post. 14. Land and Water had some coverage of the Crystal Palace meetings but the fullest report was in C.P.C. for October 1872, pages 147– 149. 15. Westminster Papers, V (August 1872), page 51. There were also complaints on that page that the B.C.A. dinner was postponed at late notice, to suit Lyttelton’s convenience. 16. L&W, (15 July 1872), page 30. 17. Wiener Allgemeine Zeitung, 24 June 1888, pages 1–3. 18. L&W, XXXV (16 June 1883), pages 478–479. 19. Land and Water, XIV (30 November 1872), page 365. 20. The Field, XL (21 December 1872), page 623. 21. Landsberger, William Steinitz, pages 67–85; Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, page 294 et seq.; Harding, Correspondence Chess, pages 95– 100 (where both games are annotated from a modern point of view). 22. C.O.L.C.M., I (May 1874), page 82. 23. C.O.L.C.M., I (May 1874), pages 86–88. 24. Wisker, recalling the match in The Sportsman, 27 November 1875. 25. The first adjournment was only of four or five weeks. The adjournment in 1873 lasted from 21 June to 1 October. The Field of 26 April shows that London had played 26 moves in each game by that point, but some more may have been made before the adjournment. The next report, on 11 October, shows London having made 32 moves.

Notes—Chapter 9 26. Emanuel Lasker, Lasker’s Manual of Chess (Toronto: McKay, 1947; Dover reprint 1960), page 200 (English descriptive edition). On the debt to Paulsen which Steinitz himself acknowledged, see Chapter 2, following Game 61. 27. L&W, XV (8 February 1873), page 101. 28. The Field, XLI (5 April 1873), page 318. In the early years of these matches, a second game was played with reverse colors except when the first game was too long. 29. In the primary sources his name is often stated as Belaieff, but the modern transliteration from Cyrillic into English would be Belayev. Gaige, Chess Personalia, page 30, names him as Alexander Petrovich Beliaev. 30. Globe, 4 & 5 July 1873; Morning Post, 5 July 1873. 31. I.L.N., LXIII (1 November 1873), page 423, a letter to Staunton signed J. de S. 32. “Bezoek van den Herr Wilh. Steinitz in Nederland,” Sissa (1873), pages 168–182; translations from Dutch by Bert Corneth. 33. H. J. G. M. Scholten, “Het Loopt Ongenadiglijk Mat”: Het Schaakleven in Nederland in de negentiende eeuw; De sociaal-culturele achtergrond van het ontstaan van schaakverenigingen [“Chess life in the Netherlands in the 19th century: the social-cultural background of the origin of chess clubs”] (Bilthoven 1999), page 282. His source was the DD club archive (in The Hague municipal archives). With regard to Sissa, Scholten came to the conclusion that it had often been judged unjustly. He was usually able to verify its information independently and there was no reason “for a structural mistrust of this source.” (From his English summary on page 475.) 34. Oesterreichische Schachzeitung (ed. Lehner), II (August 1873), pages 229–230, was the original publication of the game which can be seen online in ANNO. The consultation game is also on pages 21– 23 in the original edition of L&S but was omitted in the B.C.M. reprint. It is #254 in Renette’s book on Bird which follows L&S with no comment. Clearly the version with 1. … e6 and 10. … Ne7 is correct. Probably Bachmann followed the tournament book and Pickard followed Bachmann. 35. Some sources, notably the Moravian Chess reprint of The Field chess column for 1873–1876, claim that Steinitz edited it from the start of 1873 but, as argued elsewhere in this book, and in British Chess Literature to 1914, it is almost certain that he was appointed only late in 1873, although he may well have contributed to the column previously. Moreover, many of the notes to games played in Vienna, especially this one, bear the terse and sarcastic stamp of his predecessor, de Vere. 36. W.P., VI (August 1873), page 73. 37. The Field, 31 December 1910. 38. MacDonnell, Knights and Kings, page 60. 39. Oesterreichische Schachzeitung, II (September 1873), pages 264–265. The article continued with some of the recollections and legends of Steinitz’s residence in Vienna which were dealt with in the first chapter. The Italian expert and problem composer (described in the article as Ritter von Discart) had moved to Vienna in 1869. 40. Provinciale Overijsselsche en Zwolsche courant, 27 September 1883. 41. W.P., VI (November 1873), page 131. 42. L&W, XVI (8 November 1873), page 385. All the opponents were listed, with the opponent in Game 434 named as Bussey. Both spellings have been seen in various sources at different times. 43. The Field, XLII (7 December 1873), page 604. 44. For more on Walsh, including a picture, see Harding, British Chess Literature, page 60. 45. MacDonnell, Knights and Kings, pages 198–199. 46. MacDonnell, op. cit. (see Appendix IX). 47. British Library MSS: ADD 43688, folio 169. 48. Blackmore to Fedden, 6 August 1873 (ADD 43688, ff. 170– 171). 49. Blackmore to Fedden, 14 August 1873 (ADD 44919, f51).

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50. On the Blackmore–Fedden correspondence games, see also Harding, Correspondence Chess in Britain and Ireland 1824–1987 (Jefferson: McFarland 2011), pages 61–63. The full story about Blackmore and chess may be read in the author’s doctoral dissertation, now online at http://www.tara.tcd.ie/handle/2262/76982. 51. Blackmore to Fedden, 28 January 1874 (ADD 44919, ff. 58– 59). 52. The question of when Steinitz’s involvement at The Field began is discussed in detail in Harding, Chess Literature, page 64. How it ended is dealt with in greater length in the present work, near the end of Chapter 11. 53. The Field, XLIII (31 January 1874), page 114. 54. Blackmore to Fedden, 2 February 1874 (ADD 43688, ff. 172– 173). 55. Blackmore to Fedden, 14 February 1874 (ADD 44919, f. 61). Blackmore does not seem to have been very active in the City of London Chess Club but he did play in at least one of its Handicap tournaments. 56. Blackmore to Fedden, 30 July 1874 (ADD 44919 f. 63). By “Hoffmann” he must have meant Hoffer but it was Wormald who was awarded the column. It is interesting, though, that there was some competition for the lucrative post.

Chapter 9 1. R. N. Rose, The Field 1853–1953: a centenary volume (London 1953). 2. C.O.L.C.M., I, page 28. 3. J. S. Edgar (ed.), Liverpool Chess Club: A Short Sketch of the Club… (1893) has membership lists at the back. 4. C.O.L.C.M., I (April 1874), pages 49–50. 5. John and J. A. Venn, Alumni Cantabrigienses: a biographical list of all known students, graduates and holders of office at the University of Cambridge, from the earliest times to 1900 (2 parts in 10 vols; Cambridge 1922–1954). 6. Some relevant regional newspapers were unavailable. The British Library lacks the Cambridge Independent Press for January– April 1874; this author was also unable to consult The Cambridge Express. 7. The match was reported in C.O.L.C.M., I (April 1874), starting on page 71, and Staunton was mentioned on page 73. 8. Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, page 309; C.O.L.C.M., I (January 1875), page 304, in a reply to a correspondent. 9. Harding, Eminent Victorians, page 56. 10. T.C.M., I (August 1880), page 354, describes him as a former London resident. 11. C.O.L.C.M., I, page 237. 12. C.O.L.C.M., I (December 1874), page 293. 13. In a private email after consulting the club papers in the Bodleian Library, Jonathan Manley wrote: “The Bodleian’s copy [of Walker’s book] has the Winter 1885 list of OUCC members pasted in the back. The OUCC archive has the list for Michaelmas 1881 but there are no ‘Life Members in Residence’ or ‘Honorary Members,’ so presumably these categories were created between then and 1885.” That is certainly plausible although Walker does note that in the Lent Term of 1874 H.R.H. Prince Leopold (youngest son of Queen Victoria, then an undergraduate) was invited to become an honorary member but “signified his preference to be an ordinary member,” and was duly elected. 14. A copy of this document was kindly supplied by Jonathan Manley. The words from “On Tuesday” to “Chess Club” were printed in red. 15. Walker, University Chess Club, page 8. Alexander Richard Campbell Connell (Trinity College) matriculated in 1871 aged 19 and took his B.A. in 1876; he was club secretary in 1874 and afterwards a committee member. Campbell Tracey (Lincoln College) matriculated

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in 1873, aged 18, and graduated 1878; he also served on the club committee for a time. 16. C.O.L.C.M., II (1875), page 36. 17. Walker, University Chess Club, pages 7 and 8 (though Walker spells his name “Brooke”). 18. “Tom” is a reference to Great Tom, the bell on Christopher Wren’s Tom Tower at Christ Church, a few yards down the road (St. Aldate’s) from Oxford Town Hall. 19. Dictionary of Irish Biography, VIII, pages 180–182 (article by his biographer Trevor West). 20. “Oxford University CC 1872–1928” reference Oxf. Bodl. 38472 b1. 21. Hindle and Jones, English Morphy, page 22. 22. C.O.L.C.M., II (April 1875), page 96. 23. C.O.L.C.M., II (July 1875), page 161. 24. A curious detail is that Pickard, in the database on his CD collection The Collected Works of William Steinitz, includes Steinitz’s notes from The Field but he changed “24th inst.” to the incorrect “12th of July.” 25. The Field, XLVI (7 & 14 August 1875), pages 165 and 195 respectively; Glasgow Weekly Herald, 14 August. 26. Glasgow Herald, 5 & 6 August 1875. It is unknown when in the game the adjournment (not mentioned by Steinitz) occurred. 27. Bachmann wrongly dates this game 16 August but 6 August was stated in the Westminster Papers VIII (September 1875), page 87, which tallies with other reports of the Glasgow meeting. (Possibly the first session was on the previous evening.). 28. Hastings and St. Leonards Observer, 13 November 1875; C.O.L.C.M., II (December 1875), page 330. 29. C.O.L.C.M., loc. cit. 30. Birmingham Daily Post, 20 and 22 November 1875; C.P.C., January 1876, page 11. 31. The formal name of the club that was eventually formed was The West-End Chess Club (hyphenated with capital letters). In the present work West End (unhyphenated) is used to refer to the geographical area of London, except in direct quotations where the hyphen appeared, and also to references prior to the formation of the club. 32. This chapter supplies “chapter and verse” on the course of events, so far as it is possible to ascertain them from the primary sources. The first account of the turbulent events of 1875 was in Sergeant, British Chess, pages 126–130. Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 66, dealt with the incident in one paragraph—not inaccurately but omitting some essential details. The account in Harding, Eminent Victorians, pages 176–177, provides a succinct summary of what occurred in the fall but does not discuss the moves that led to the setting up of the West-End club. Renette, H. E. Bird, pages 169–171, provides an alternative view of events, largely correct although in some notes below we raise a few queries. 33. Gaige, Chess Personalia, lists Gümpel as Charles Godfrey, born 1835, death 1921? In Land and Water, 6 April 1878, he is named as “C. Godfrey” and his death registration at Bromley in 1920 says “Carl G.,” age estimated as 87, which would agree with several census entries implying he was born in 1832 or 1833. 34. C.O.L.C.M., II (March 1875), page 61. 35. C.O.L.C.M., II (April 1875), page 68. The death of Walrond was reported on page 101. 36. C.O.L.C.M., II (September 1875), pages 232–233. 37. C.O.L.C.M., II (October 1875), pages 259–260. 38. The Sportsman, 15 September 1875. 39. In the C.O.L.C.M. the list of elected committee members is strictly alphabetical but Bird’s letter to the I.L.N., quoted below, makes the claim that Steinitz was originally not elected. 40. Sergeant, British Chess, page 127. The report of the annual general meeting is in C.O.L.C.M., II (November 1875), on pages 314– 315, and the report of the West-End Club’s dinner followed by Potter’s

breast-beating exercise may be found on pages 294–296 of the same number. Potter arranged the issue so that his mea culpa would be read before the dry account of the election, though this meant reversing the chronological order. 41. It seems somewhat strange that when Renette deals with this matter, in his note 30 on page 170 of H. E. Bird, he says the letter is worth quoting in full but he omits all the text prior to “It was not until….” This is the main reason why here we decided to quote the complete letter. 42. C.O.L.C.M., II (October 1875), page 269. 43. A detailed report can be found in C.O.L.C.M., II (December 1875), pages 324–326. Steinitz told his side of the story in The Field, XLVI (20 November 1875), page 567. 44. B.C.M., XIII (January 1893), page 9. Potter said that Zukertort also immediately resigned. 45. The Field has “Piercey” but we follow the spelling in C.O.L.C.M. 46. Steinitz referred to this later in I.C.M, I (March 1885), page 83, saying: “in London chess politics he tried the experiment of bowing all around in the midst of a fighting crows, and he looked quite astonished when he found himself alternately kicked in the rear by different parties.” 47. I.S.D.N., 23 September 1882. 48. The membership list in the club’s 52nd annual report (1905) says Blackburne was elected honorary member in 1865; no hiatus was mentioned. 49. For example, Renette, H. E. Bird, page 170 says: “One of the direct consequences was the termination of the annual handicap tournament.” This is simply not true, although it reduced to 32 entries for the 1875/6 season. Land and Water, 25 December 1875 said entries were complete and the event about to start. C.O.L.C.M., III: 1 (March 1876), had some information on page 3, but The Field no longer reported on the competition. The Handicaps continued annually until at least the 1881/2 season and probably much longer after that. 50. The Field, XLVI (20 November 1875), page 567. Sergeant, British Chess, but he did not mention this aspect of the City club crisis: the honorarium row. 51. The Sportsman, 27 November 1875. 52. Westminster Papers, VIII (December 1875), pages 140–141. In Eminent Victorians, the author mistakenly attributed the article below MacDonnell’s letter to him. 53. The Field, XLVI (11 December 1875), page 656. 54. I.C.M., IV (February 1888), page 44. 55. W.P., VIII (January 1876), pages 165–168. 56. The Field, ibid. 57. “The Library,” in The Field, XLV (12 June 1875), pages 601– 602. Because the reviews did not appear in the chess column proper, they are not to be found in the Moravian Chess reprint. 58. MacDonnell, Knights and Kings, pages 39–40 (see Appendix IX). 59. Westminster Papers, VIII (December 1875), pages 141 and 163. Charleton was a respected working-class provincial player who had a chess column in one of the Newcastle papers. 60. B.C.M., III (1883), page 243. 61. I.C.M, I (March 1885), page 83. 62. Land and Water, XXXIX (2 May 1885), page 451. Potter was tiring of chess and its squabbles and gave up the game, and his column, a few months later. 63. The identity of the opponent in this game is uncertain. A report on Blackburne’s visit to the Bristol & Clifton Chess Association in February 1875 shows that both a D. Vines and H. Vines were members. Likewise when Zukertort visited in October 1876, but both times D. Vines seems to have been the player in blindfold simuls, so probably the stronger of the two. The best-known amateur of this period with the surname Vines was Dr. Henry Jackal Kendrick Vines (a name discovered by the late Chris Ravilious.) 64. On the microfilm of the letters from the John G. White Col-

Notes—Chapter 10 lection, this letter is out of sequence and appears after one dated 29 November 1876. 65. Daily News, 18 February 1876. 66. C.P.C., March 1876, page 52. 67. The modern spelling is Riesenschnauzer, a German breed of giant watchdog. According to www. europuppy. com, “The Giant Schnauzer is a large, powerful, elegant, compact dog with bushy eyebrows, whiskers and a beard…. Ideally the dog’s height is the same as the length, resulting in a rather square impression.” 68. W.P., VIII (March 1876), pages 213–214. 69. W.P., VIII (March 1876), page 218. 70. L&W, XXV (13 April 1878), page 361. 71. Steinitz’s health issues are discussed early in the next chapter. As for not playing, The Field of 2 December 1876 mentioned the Handicap tournament at the West-End Club, saying that Blackburne, Hoffer, Steinitz, and Zukertort had all been barred from entering. On that date there was a match between the West-End and St. George’s Club but of those four, only Hoffer played (The Field, 9 December). 72. The 20 July 1876 date of death for Löwenthal is proved by its being mentioned in the Daily News and other papers on 21 July and his probate record. The incorrect date (21 July) is printed in several places and the British Chess Federation put that on the headstone when his grave was restored in 1926. Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 63, says Steinitz started writing for the Field and the Figaro in January 1873 but no evidence was offered for the former statement, and the latter is certainly incorrect. 73. Some of the background information about Mortimer comes from an article by Professor Jeremy Spinrad which was published in 2006 at the Chess Café website but is no longer generally available. Much personal information about Mortimer, including his association with Morphy, can be found in an online article by Winter at http://www.chesshistory.com/winter/extra/mortimer.html (30 March 2019) but there is little in it about The London Figaro. 74. Start date of the London Figaro is from the British Library catalog. In some volumes and on some title pages it was called simply Figaro. It may also be noted that The Encyclopedia of the British Press (ed. Dennis Griffiths; London: Macmillan 1992), page 424 (from which that quotation comes), gives an incorrect start year for the paper (saying 1868), says it was a weekly, and says it ended in 1882, which is untrue, though it does appear that Mortimer’s connection with it ended that year. 75. Sergeant, British Chess, page 154. 76. I.S.D.N., V (2 September 1876), page 555.

Chapter 10 1. Steinitz to Fraser, 14 February 1877, in Chess Life, December 1967, reprinted in Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 95, and also in Landsberger (ed.) Steinitz Papers, page 24. 2. For an extensive discussion of Steinitz’s mental health problems, especially in the 1890s, see Landsberger (ed.) Steinitz Papers, pages 237–244, especially page 239 where (according to Landsberger) Steinitz in 1897 wrote to a doctor friend in Vienna saying “signs of a nervous disorder had first appeared with him after the match with Blackburne in 1876” which differs from what he told Fraser at the time. 3. Dundee Courier and Argus, 21 March 1873 (page 4), 22 March 1873 (page 3), and 29 March 1873 (page 3). In some of his letters to J. G. White, Fraser recounts his financial problems but never admits he was in jail. 4. Sergeant, British Chess, page 127, citing W.P., V (October 1877), page 97. 5. L&W, XX (24 July 1875), page 71; I.L.N., 19 August 1876. Löwenthal had been elected honorary secretary only a few months previously, according to I.S.D.N., 12 February 1876 but perhaps was

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not expected to do anything as he was unwell. Löwenthal had held that position as a paid appointment for a few years until early 1858. 6. Bird, “A Slight Retrospect,” quoted in Renette, H. E. Bird, page 561. 7. Land and Water, XXIII (24 March 1877), page 213. 8. Derby and Derbyshire Gazette, 2 and 9 March. 9. Norfolk News and Norfolk Chronicle and Norwich Mercury (identical reports), 21 April 1877. 10. Jewish Chronicle, 4 May 1877. 11. Harding, Eminent Victorians, pages 223–225; Harding, Joseph Henry Blackburne, page 130. 12. The same paragraph mentioned that the long-retired Harrwitz was then paying a visit to London. 13. London Figaro, Wednesday, 22 August 1877, page 14. 14. Duffy was in charge of the chess content (other than the games) in the Westminster Papers almost throughout, certainly from the second volume. He had been editor of the chess column in The Era in its final years, succeeding Staunton, who had earlier ousted Löwenthal from that job. Duffy acquired the Land and Water column in April 1876 when Wisker was too unwell to continue. Later the same year he also became chess editor of the I.L.N. on the death of Wormald, and probably of the I.S.D.N. column also before MacDonnell took it over. It is unclear when that happened but in Appendix VI Steinitz makes reference to “an editorial crisis at the Sporting and Dramatic News and Land and Water within a few months after the curtain had fallen over the Divan tragedy.” Potter took over at Land and Water in November 1877, by which time he had joined the anti– Steinitz camp. 15. The references are to P. T. Duffy and the Westminster Papers. He also wrote the chess column at various times in The Era, Land and Water, and latterly the Illustrated London News. The solicitor referred to a little further on was Charles Mossop. 16. Turf, Field and Farm, 26 October 1883. 17. See Appendix IV for the full text of that article under the heading “A Literary Outrage.” 18. W.P., X (September 1877), page 75. The whole paragraph can be read in Appendix IV. 19. I.S.D.N., VII (15 September 1877), page 633. 20. The London Figaro, 19 September 1877; Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 91, says this was in “the September 1877 issue.” Apparently he had not seen it for himself and thought the Figaro was a monthly, also making other mistakes. The correct texts of the various articles in the controversy are to be found in Appendix 4. 21. L&W, XXIV (22 September 1877), page 249. 22. L&W, XXIV (29 September 1877), page 271. This was probably just a joke. If Steinitz had written an article in a five shilling weekly, what paper was it and what had he said? A copy of The Figaro did not cost five shillings. 23. I.S.D.N., VIII (29 September 1877), page 44. 24. L&W, XXIV (6 October 1877), page 293. 25. I.S.D.N., VIII (6 October 1878), page 59. 26. Blackburne’s letter appeared in both the I.S.D.N., VIII (27 October 1877) and the London Figaro, 31 October 1877, but not in the chess columns. Steinitz pointed out in the Figaro on 9 November that Blackburne was well enough to win the Divan tournament a few weeks after the match but no doubt the rheumatism was primarily a winter affliction. 27. L&W, XXIV (3 November 1877), page 385. 28. In fairness to Blackburne, warmer weather in spring may well have improved rheumatism which could be bad in February in those days before central heating. 29. W.P., X (December 1877), page 131. 30. I.S.D.N., XII (31 January 1880), page 182. 31. I.S.D.N., XIII (1 May 1880), page 159. 32. John G. White Collection: Fraser to White, 17 September 1878 (letter 90).

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33. The Field, LI (13 April 1878), page 441. 34. I.S.D.N., IX (20 April 1878), page 118. 35. I.S.D.N., IX (4 May 1878), page 166. 36. London Figaro, 15 May 1878. 37. The Derbyshire Advertiser, 24 May 1878. 38. On Blackburne’s being taken to court in Melbourne, see Harding, Joseph Henry Blackburne, page 216. On the incidents alleged to have occurred between Blackburne and Steinitz, see I.C.M., V (November 1889), replying to pages 264–265 of the May 1889 issue of T.C.M. The various versions of this anecdote are compared in http:// www.chesshistory.com/winter/extra/violence.html. 39. Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, page 311, quoting Steinitz in I.C.M., V (April 1889), page 110, about how Kolisch and he made their peace in Paris in 1878, if not already in Vienna in 1873. 40. London Figaro, 28 August 1878, page 14. 41. The Field, LII (16 November 1878), page 625. 42. For more details on Mephisto and Gunsberg’s involvement, see Appendix VI in Harding, Eminent Victorians, pages 341–348. 43. L&W, XXV (6 April 1878), page 341. 44. The Field, LI (13 April 1878), page 429. 45. London Figaro, 9 October 1878, page 14. 46. L&W, XXVII (15 February 1879), page 145. 47. L&W, XXVII (22 February 1879), page 167. 48. London Figaro, 7 March 1879, page 14. Zukertort was also at the meeting, but not Blackburne. 49. L&W, XXVII (10 May 1879), page 387. 50. Ken Whyld, “The English Devil,” in B.C.M., XCVII (July 1977), pages 315–322; here, page 321; L&W, XXVIII (27 September 1879), page 269. 51. The Field, LI (15 March 1879), page 306; London Figaro, 19 March 1879, page 14. 52. London Figaro, 26 March 1879, page 14. 53. For example, Liverpool Mercury, 6 August 1879. 54. L&W, XXVIII (16 August 1879), page 137; final result on 6 September, page 203. 55. Eastern Daily Press, 10 September 1879; Norfolk News, 13 September; London Figaro, 17 September; T.C.M., October 1879, pages 34–35; C.P.C., November 1879. 56. Hooper & Whyld, Oxford Companion (1st ed.), page 218. 57. Her maiden name was Thomas although in her divorce petition (filed on 6 April 1888 and visible at ancestry.co.uk) she says she was the eldest daughter of the late Morgan Treherne. This was because the family of Morgan Thomas (1803–1867), a member of Welsh landed gentry, changed their surname to Treherne in 1856. 58. Ironically, on page 4 in this article, there was a note about names being withheld because of libel laws. 59. H. C. G. Matthew and Brian Harrison (eds.), Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford University Press, 60 vols., 2004; also online), LVII, pages 984–985; Brian Thompson, A monkey among crocodiles; the disastrous life of Mrs. Georgina Weldon (London: Harper Collins 2000). The biographer is unsympathetic to her. See also https://blog.catherinepope.co.uk/tag/georgina-weldon/ and Judith R. Walkowitz (ed.), City of Dreadful Delight (University of Chicago Press and Virago Press 1992), especially Chapter 6 (pages 171– 182) but Mortimer and the Figaro are not mentioned. 60. London Figaro, 5 July, pages 2–3. Court reports can be found in the newspapers, e.g., The Times on 30 June and 25 November 1879. 61. Harding, Eminent Victorians, page 18. 62. Lowe’s probate record, dated 11 March, says he left an estate “under £4,000,” which probably means it was close to that figure. 63. New York Tribune, 4 February 1891; Bradlaugh had died on 30 January. Steinitz reprinted the article in I.C.M., VII, pages 4–6. Since that was nominally the January number it shows that Steinitz was by now well behind with publication. Randolph Churchill was a member of the House of Commons. “Lord” was a courtesy title because he

was the younger son of a duke and brother of the current Duke of Marlborough. 64. Design and Work, 3 April 1880, page 332. 65. Land and Water, XXVIII (8 May 1880), page 409; The Glasgow Herald, 11 May 1880, thought it a little unfair to Rosenthal that the two umpires were from the St. George’s Club (to which Zukertort belonged, though his stakes were raised at the Divan), and that the referee, Steinitz, though eminently qualified, was a personal friend of Zukertort. The distinction between the umpires and the referee was not clarified. Presumably the former were what we would call arbiters and Steinitz the chief arbiter. 66. Design and Work, 22 May 1880, page 477. 67. London Figaro, 23 June 1880. 68. T.C.M., I (August 1880), page 355. 69. Readers who are interested may compare the differing accounts of the matter to be found in Hans Renette’s biography of Bird (naturally sympathetic to his subject) on pages 267–269, and the present writer’s biography of Blackburne, page 154. 70. Renette, H. E. Bird, pages 274–275 and 560–562. Part of this was quoted already in Chapter 5 in connection with the end of Bird’s match with Steinitz. 71. Glasgow Weekly Herald, 25 December 1880. Renette’s appendix does not quote the complete letter, hence some snippets from the omitted parts have been included here. 72. Fraser to White, 12 January 1881 (volume 2, letter 12). 73. Mavor, My Windows, pages 79–80. 74. Hereford Times, 8 January 1881; London Figaro, 12 January. 75. An earlier version of this section was published in Tim Harding, “Steinitz in Dublin,” Quarterly for Chess History 14, pages 138– 150. It is based not only on press reports but also the minutes of Dublin Chess Club. The Dublin Evening Mail and Dublin Daily Express of 14 January 1881 both said he arrived on the Tuesday and played the consultation games that afternoon, but the club minutes contradict those reports. C.P.C., 18 January 1881, page 32, says he arrived “betimes,” which implies some delay on the way. 76. London Figaro, 26 January 1881, page 13. 77. C.P.C., IV (1843), page 147. 78. B.L.L., 15 September 1850. 79. The C.P.C. carelessly wrote 1859. 80. One of the minor discrepancies is that C.P.C., loc. cit., says “Captain Wallace, Messrs. Monck and Cairns” but Cairns is not mentioned in the other sources as being involved. 81. Chess Player’s Chronicle (25 January 1881), pages 38–39. 82. J. A. Venn (ed.), Alumni Cantabrigienses: a biographical list of all known students, graduates and holders of office at the University of Cambridge … part II (1752–1900), vol. 5, Cambridge 1953), page 317; this seems to be the source for most of the information given by Edward Winter, Kings, Commoners and Knaves (Milford CT, 1999), pages 131–133. The Chess-Monthly wrongly claimed J. D. Roberts was not yet 15 when he played Steinitz. 83. Scholar 1886. Ordained deacon 1892, priest C of E 1893. Died 8 June 1931 (The Times, 15 June 1931). 84. Except for a correspondence game in the Ireland–England match of the late 1920s, published in Harding, Correspondence Chess, page 235. 85. C.O.L.C.M., II, page 75. 86. Only the Dublin Evening Mail provides this detail. 87. Weekly Irish Times, 5 February 1881. The heading on its report “the blindfold match of 15th January 1881” is clearly mistaken as to date; all other accounts agree it was the Thursday. The 15th was Saturday, the day Steinitz presumably left Dublin. 88. Irish Times, 14 January 1881. 89. In some accounts the variant spelling “Cairnes” is seen. He later moved to Liverpool and in the 1893/4 season he was president of the Liverpool Chess Club. 90. C.P.C., calling it board four, said “Monck, Wallace and Cairns”

Notes—Chapter 11 but the club records and Irish newspapers show Monck played on a different board in the blindfold exhibition. 91. The Field, 22 January. The new maneuver was fianchettoing the queen’s bishop: see the game below. 92. Weekly Irish Times, 5 February 1881. 93. The C.P.C.’s informant had his names mixed up and wrote “Loff ” instead of Monck, but there was nobody called Loff. They were thinking of Soffe and transposed the boards where he and Monck were playing. 94. C.P.C. has the misprint “Tothill,” It also twice referred to Salmon, a stalwart of the Church of Ireland, as “Salomon,” making it sound as if he were Jewish. 95. Weekly Irish Times, 5 February 1881. 96. Dublin Evening Mail, 14 January 1881. The reports in the Mail are somewhat strange. It appears that they received two different accounts and printed both, the sub-editors failing to notice discrepancies between them. On the Saturday, they began by repeating the second half of the Friday report (perhaps because it was only in the final edition) and then followed with a brief account of Friday’s proceedings which is identical to that carried the same day in the Irish Times. 97. The Field, LVII (22 January 1881), page 105. 98. Some Trinity College Dublin graduates studied mostly in England and only came over to Dublin to take the examinations; they were known as “steam-boaters.” Fisher may have been one of them. Nevertheless the City and County of Dublin Chess Club minutes show that they elected Fisher a member on 10 March 1880, which indicates he did spend some time in Ireland. His biggest success was Glasgow 1875 when he won the Provincial Challenge Cup of the Counties Association ahead of Burn, but arguably his second prize in the London 1883 Vizayanagaram tournament was even more impressive. Later he went for some years to America. 99. I.S.D.N., XIV (29 January 1881), pages 483 and 486. 100. St Patrick’s Chess Club Pamphlet (1887 reissue), pages 50–51, game 19. 101. Irish Sportsman, 28 July 1888; Dublin Evening Mail, 2 August 1888. 102. Dublin Evening Mail, 11 August 1892. 103. Dublin Evening Mail, 19 April 1894. 104. London Figaro, 30 March 1881, page 13. 105. B.C.M., July 2005 Q&Q 5729 (p386) and follow-up August. 106. Hackney parish registers at the London Metropolitan Archives (online at ancestry.co.uk.) 107. LMA microfilm X91/11 page 2336. 108. The reference on the London A–Z is map 84, 2D. The nearest subway station to both Baldwyn Street and Sylvia Court is Old Street. 109. London Figaro, 21 September, pages 13–14. 110. T.C.M., III (December 1881), page 113. 111. The challenge was printed in The Field on 25 June.

Chapter 11 1. T.C.M., III (December 1881), pages 107–113. 2. Whyld’s introduction to his 1989 booklet “The First Steinitz— Hoffer Ink War,” quoted in Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 108. The booklet (privately published by Whyld) is not readily available. 3. T.C.M., III (January 1882), pages 135–148. 4. Oxford Companion, 1st ed., page 146. 5. MacDonnell, Knights and Kings, page 50. 6. Renette and Zavatarelli, op. cit., pages 137–138 (Zavatarelli was principally responsible for the Hirschfeld and Suhle chapters, Renette for the Neumann section). 7. The Chess Player’s Chronicle, and Journal of Indoor and Outdoor Amusements, V (11 January 1882), pages 14–16. The new management of W.W. Morgan and son continued the renumbering of volumes begun by Ranken in 1877.

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8. Moravian Chess have reprinted the relevant volumes of The Field, C.P.C. and T.C.M. which can also be found in libraries. The chess column of the London Figaro can be downloaded from the website of the Cleveland Public Library in pdf format, based on a scrapbook of columns in the John G. White Collection. It can be found at http://cplorg.cdmhost.com/digital/collection/p4014coll20/ id/240/rec/1. 9. London Figaro, 25 January 1882. 10. I.S.D.N., 15 April 1882; T.C.M., III (April 1882), pages 235–236. 11. London Figaro, 8 March 1882. It may be observed that what Steinitz wrote did not quite agree with what Minchin later published in T.C.M. 12. Hereford Times, 18 March 1882; London Figaro, 5 April 1882. 13. MacDonnell, Knights and Kings, pages 134–135. 14. In British Chess Literature, the author wrote that the British Library did not have a copy of the relevant volume. Actually they do, but access is restricted because of its poor condition. Eventually permission to read it was obtained but it does not contain any announcements about a sale or change of editor. The appearance and content did not change rapidly except for the termination of the chess column. 15. The main source for Mortimer selling The London Figaro in 1882 is the book Journalistic London by Joseph Hatton, published later that year, but it does not state a precise date when the new management took over and the chess column is not mentioned. It said: “Recently the paper has been taken over by a limited liability company, and Mr. Mortimer appears to be giving more attention to playwriting than to journalism.” 16. 20 May was also when a leading article about chess appeared in The Field, which was to cause offence later. It is far from clear that Steinitz had written this. The dispute arising from this only became public after the tournament was over, and is discussed in a later section of this chapter. The full text of the leader may be found in Appendix V. 17. The Field, 20 May 1882. 18. The Field, LX (1 July 1882), page 25. 19. Christian Bijl (ed.), Das II. Internationale Schachmeisterturnier Wien 1882 (Zurich: Olms 1984); Bijl was a curator of the chess collection at the Koninklijke Bibliotheek in The Hague. 20. See for example the discussion in Renette, H. E. Bird, page 268; Bijl, pages 52–54 gives the moves and the facts. 21. Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, pages 319–320, discusses their relationship and their journey to England for the wedding, as a consequence of which Kolisch was away from Vienna for part of the tournament. “Kohlenberg” was a misprint for Kahlenberg. 22. L&W, 10 June 1882, page 439. 23. N. I. Grekov, Sto Dvadtsat Izbrannikh Partiy M.I. Chigorina [120 Selected Games of M. I. Chigorin] (Moscow: Fizikulturu I Sport 1952) #17, pages 114–116. 24. I.S.D.N., XVII (8 July 1882), page 406. The story was also repeated in the Glasgow Weekly Herald, 15 July 1882. MacDonnell wondered whether Kolisch was in Vienna at the time (Zavatarelli’s biography, on page 321, shows that he was) and said that he was sure Kolisch, if there, would have been in the dissenting minority. 25. Zavatarelli, Ignaz Kolisch, page 321. 26. Harding, Eminent Victorian (especially page 189), and Harding, British Chess Literature, page 65. 27. The Field, 29 July 1882, page 173. 28. Hooper, “Steinitz,” in E. Winter (ed.), World Chess Champions (Oxford: Pergamon 1981), page 34, but there Hooper implied that Steinitz only lost the column in 1883. 29. MacDonnell, Knights and Kings, page 50. 30. B.C.M., III (1883), page 225. 31. The Standard, Thursday, 24 August (page 8, column 5); Friday, 25 August (page 8, column 4); Saturday, 26 August (page 8, column 6).

394 32. 33. 34. 35.

Notes—Chapters 12, 13 C.P.C., 16 August 1882, page 394. I.S.D.N., XVIII (23 September 1882), page 38. B.C.M., II (November/December 1882), page 378. Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 125.

Chapter 12 1. Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 133; reports of shipping movements found in the British Newspaper Archive. 2. Shipping and Mercantile Gazette, 7 April 1883. 3. MacDonnell, Life-Pictures, page 157. A couple of years later, Punch published an often-reproduced cartoon of the chess players at the Divan, in which Steinitz on the right is putting on his coat and slinking away, a reference to his emigration. 4. The small chess club that met at the Three Cups pub in London initiated the idea of the Congress. The St. George’s took it over without acknowledging the fact, as MacDonnell complained in I.S.D.N., XVIII (21 October 1882), page 131; see also L&W, XXXIV (23 September 1882), page 254. 5. B.C.M, III (May 1883), page 179. From this it is unclear whether Adolf or Jacques Schwarz was intended; probably the former, as he had played the previous year in Vienna. 6. B.C.M., III (June 1883), page 207. 7. Sir Henry Cotton, K.C.S.I, Indian & Home Memories (London 1911), quoted on www.kingpinchess.net/ (19 March 2013). 8. I.C.M., IV (November 1888), pages 342–343. See Appendix VII for details. 9. In addition there were three officers, of whom Minchin and Gastineau were members of other clubs in 1866 and Hoffer was not in England. They can clearly be discounted in this instance. It may be noted that two members of the City of London Club who voted against Steinitz in 1875 were on the managing committee. 10. Rosenbaum had died earlier in 1888 so he is a suspect for the second charge. In addition to Lewis, the following are definitely not the “ex-thief ”: Donisthorpe, Hirschfeld, Steel, and Wayte. 11. See also Chapter 5 for a discussion of time-keeping in early tournaments and the 1866 match with Anderssen. For more on the history of early chess clocks see Harding, Joseph Henry Blackburne, pages 190–191. 12. Following a query in British Chess Magazine, reader W. O. Woodfield of Westcliff-on-Sea found the patent reference 8834/1884. At the expiration of a player’s time a bell rang. Woodfield added “This clock showed the time taken by each player, and the number of moves made. It also gave a warning when the time allowed for each move had expired.” 13. Turf, Field and Farm, 11 May 1883. 14. Harrie [Henricus Hubertus] Grondijs (ed.), The international chess tournament London 1883: in letters [sent to the editors of Turf, Field and Farm magazine] (Rijswijk: Rueb 2010). This was a limited edition but a copy is available for inspection at the Royal Dutch Library in The Hague. 15. First prize was £300 and the total of the main prizes was £1,000, with some minor prizes also. 16. T.C.M., IV (June 1883), pages 289–290; Renette and Zavatarelli, op. cit., page 140. 17. Turf, Field and Farm, 15 June 1883. 18. I.L.N., 2 June 1883. 19. The Globe and the Daily News, both 25 May 1883. 20. Turf, Field and Farm, 22 June 1883. 21. Turf, Field and Farm, 22 June 1883. 22. Minchin, pages 239–241. 23. B.C.M., III (1883), page 263. 24. Turf, Field and Farm, 20 July 1883 (written by Steinitz on 15 June after Zukertort has lost his final three games). 25. The chess columns of Ashore or Afloat have been reprinted by Moravian Chess.

26. Ashore or Afloat, I (14 September 1883), page 330. In the I.C.M , IV (February 1888), page 44, Steinitz says the paper was always in financial difficulties and had failed to pay him, which is quite likely also true. 27. I.C.M., IV (January 1888), pages 11–12, where Steinitz was replying to allegations that he had been expelled from membership of the City and St. George’s clubs, which technically was not the case. In the November 1888 issue he said he resigned from the St. George’s Club “in order not to have my name associated in the remotest way with” the individual he called an “ex-thief ” (see Chapter 12). 28. I.C.M., loc. cit. 29. Under the modern rule allowing claims of a draw if 50 moves by each side elapse without any pawn move or capture, there was no question of that situation arising in Steinitz’s loss to Zukertort. However the 50-move rule was never well drafted in the 19th century. The wording of Rule 8 in this tournament (drawn up by a subcommittee consisting of Donisthorpe and Woodgate in advance of the event) was as follows: “A player may at any time call upon his adversary to mate him within fifty moves (move and reply being counted as one). If by the expiration of such fifty moves no piece or Pawn has been captured, nor Pawn moved, nor mate given, a draw can then be obtained.” This was much clearer and less verbose than the Rule XI in the 1862 laws of the B.C.A. printed in the London 1862 tournament book on page lxxi. It seems evident that Steinitz made a frivolous invalid claim in the hope of distracting his opponent but Zukertort made no mention of it in his annotations. 30. T.C.M. V (September 1883), page 2. 31. I.S.D.N., XXI (23 August 1884), page 607. 32. Martin Frère Hillyer, Thomas Frère and the Brotherhood of Chess (Jefferson: McFarland 2007). See also Landsberger, William Steinitz, pages 144–167. On early uses of the term “world champion” in connection with chess, see Edward Winter’s article at http://www. chesshistory.com/winter/extra/champion.html. 33. I.C.M., IV (February 1888), page 42; Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 200. 34. Landsberger, William Steinitz, pages 206–207.

Chapter 13 1. Landsberger, William Steinitz, calls her Julia: see pages 282 and 341; he says there she was born in July 1897 but this seems to be an estimate from the 1900 census. In The Steinitz Papers, in a note on page 239 he writes October 1896 which would have been the approximate date of conception for a baby born in July 1897. As Steinitz returned to New York in late May 1897, Juliet was probably born in 1898. 2. The evidence is presented in Harding, Eminent Victorians, page 194. 3. 31 January 1892 is the end-date for Steinitz’s New York Tribune column according to Nick Pope’s Chess Archaeology website. Whyld, Columns, said 6 August 1893. Steinitz began a signed chess column in the New York Herald (a daily newspaper) in the issue for Sunday, 24 September 1893, but it may have been irregular or of short duration? The first half of October on the British Library’s microfilm copy was searched without seeing another chess diagram, so this is left for a future American biographer to investigate. As for the Instructor, he found a publisher who was willing to issue the long-awaited Part Two in installments but only Section 1 ever appeared (in 1895). 4. Some of the moves were published in installments in the Deutsche Schachzeitung but they are not listed in the month-bymonth contents pages. Also the conclusion of the games apparently never appeared in that magazine. 5. W. Steinitz, Modern Chess Instructor, pt. 2, sect. 1, page 61, note 66. 6. T.C.M. for September 1894 said this match had been adjourned during Steinitz’s match with Lasker and was now resumed.

Notes—Chapter 13 7. Swindon Advertiser, 27 July 1895. 8. Swindon Advertiser, 3 August 1895. 9. Horace F. Cheshire, The Hastings Chess Tournament 1895 (New York and London 1896). 10. The score, so far as it is known, was published in Bachmann, the Hooper and Pickard collections, and also in this author’s work on Blackburne, but, at least until Mega Database 2017, ChessBase has overlooked the additional moves. 11. Colin Crouch and Kean Haines, Hastings 1895: The Centenary Book (Sheffield 1995); Sid Pickard (ed.), Hastings 1895: the centennial edition (Dallas 1995). For more details see Harding, Joseph Henry Blackburne, pages 342–343. 12. L. Bachmann (ed.), Geistreiche Schachpartien, V (Ansbach 1896) #39, page 34. 13. The group photograph taken at Battle Abbey may be seen in Renette, H. E. Bird, page 515. 14. Rhoda Bowles, “Some Chess Celebrities Whom I Have Met” in. E.A. Michell (ed.), The Year-Book of Chess, 1907 (London, 1907) pages 23–27, reproduced on the web page cited in the next note. 15. For what really happened at the end of this game, see www. chesshistory.com/winter/extra/steinitzvonbardeleben.html. 16. Cheshire, pages 215–217. 17. Cheshire, page 289; St. James’s Gazette, 30 August 1895. 18. B.C.M., XV (October 1895), pages 414–415. 19. B.C.M., XV (November 1895), page 478; Morning Post, 28 October 1895. 20. Bachmann, 2d edition, volume 2, page 272 et seq. The games are preserved in databases. 21. Scholten, op. cit., page 286 (for DD), and page 298, from the archive of the Palamedes club (in the Royal Dutch Library). The simul in Leiden was on 11 May. 22. Landsberger, William Steinitz, page 341. He mistakenly believed that Steinitz’s last child, Julia (or Juliet) must have had a different father, but his evidence for her date of birth was insufficient. The 1910 American census says she was 11 years old, implying she was born in 1898 or 1899, which is compatible with the dates when Steinitz was in America. For more, see Harding, Eminent Victorians, pages 193–194. 23. Harding, Joseph Henry Blackburne, page 356, explains why the 9 August date sometimes stated for the close of the Nuremberg tournament is incorrect. 24. “Steinitz in Augsburg,” in L. Bachmann, Schachmeister Steinitz, IV, pages 203–206 (including the two mentioned games with Bachmann but nothing about writing his memoirs); Landsberger, William Steinitz, pages 330–331. 25. Landsberger, William Steinitz, pages 332–333, says Steinitz arrived at the spa on 21 August and gives details of the Kneipp treatment there (which is mentioned by Bachmann on page 171 of his fourth volume). However Landsberger, when writing his book, appears not to have known about the visit to Vienna to renew the passport. 26. Landsberger deals with Steinitz’s health problems and incarceration in the Moscow clinic at length in both his biography and in The Steinitz Papers. He says that the American chess master Max Judd assisted him in Vienna, where he arrived on 18 March 1897. 27. This is confirmed by passenger records at https://www.liberty ellisfoundation.org. In the passenger list his first name is “Wilh.”

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28. Wiener Schachzeitung, August 1898. 29. The Field, XCII (6 August 1898), page 247. 30. D.S.Z., LIII (September 1898), page 277. 31. The Field, XCII (13 August 1898), page 303 32. www.norwayheritage. com/p_shipageasp?sh=campa has dates of the Campania’s voyages. 33. It is game 1022 on page 253 of Pickard’s book where it is dated 1899. The game was also published in Blanshard, Classified Chess Games part 1, on page 93, dating the game to 1900, whereas Carlo Pagni’s correspondence game collection says 1899. Pickard’s CD has notes to the game by R. Leininger, from an unknown source, and he there says incorrectly 1897. 34. Antony Guest, “Steinitz and other Chess-Players,” in The Contemporary Review (November 1900), pages 727–737; here, page 728. 35. Ken Whyld, “London 1899,” in Quarterly for Chess History 7, pages 264–269; in that article, composed in 2002 (notwithstanding the nominal date of that volume) he provided the full round-byround pairings for both tournaments. His chart contains one mistake, however, as he dated Round 23 to 29 June, which was a Thursday and therefore one of those set aside for playing off adjournments. Round 23 was in fact played on Friday 30th. 36. Forster, Amos Burn, page 464; American Chess Magazine, I (June 1899), pages 484–485; Liverpool Courier, 31 May 1899; Birmingham Weekly Mercury, 10 June 1899. 37. F. W. Lord and W. Ward-Higgs (eds.), The Book of the London International Chess Congress 1899 (London 1900). 38. For the history of the Aquarium and Sullivan’s association with it, see https://www.gsarchive.net/articles/sull_aquarium.index. html (downloaded 22 February 2019). 39. London Daily News, 8 June. 40. Evgeny Sveshnikov, French Defence, Advance Variation (Oetwil: Edition Olms 2007), volume 1 page 16 (in a note to Steinitz– Maróczy, Vienna 1898). In that tournament Steinitz had played 4. d×c5 against Showalter. 41. The photograph was published in the weekly journal Black and White on 15 July 1899 but the paper did not clarify this point. The caption said “some of the competitors….” The photograph is not included here because Steinitz was not in it, but the photograph was reproduced in Renette, H. E. Bird, on page 544. 42. Contemporary Review, loc. cit. 43. On 4 March 1892 the Jewish Chronicle had already reported that “We believe that a chess-circle is about to be established at The Maccabeans, whose ranks include Several good chess-players.” The same paper reported at length on 24 May 1895 that Emanuel Lasker had been the society’s guest at dinner where the World Champion made a speech and gave a simultaneous display. 44. The chess editor of the Hampstead and Highgate Express, 2 September, did not agree with some things Steinitz said about the Jewish race in the interview and there was some comment in other newspapers also. 45. I.S.D.N., LII (7 October 1899), page 204. 46. Chessworld, I:1 (January–February 1964), pages 58–59. 47. http://www.kramnik.com/eng/interviews/getinterview.aspx? id=61 (downloaded 17 April 2011); the kramnik.com website is no longer online.

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Bibliography This bibliography lists the major sources used for the book. Full details of other books, articles, websites and further sources cited in the text may be found in the relevant chapter notes.

Primary Sources Manuscripts Bodleian Library, Oxford. Records of the Oxford University Chess Club. Falconer Madan papers. British Library, St. Pancras, London. Richard Doddridge Blackmore papers: ADD 43688, ADD 44919 Cleveland Public Library (Ohio), Special Collections: John G. White Collection. Letters from G. B. Fraser to John G. White. Scrapbooks of chess columns (mostly read on microfilm). Dublin Chess Club. Minute books (in possession of the club). London Metropolitan Archives, 40 Northampton Road, London. London Chess Club muniments, A/LCH/001–007. Swan, John (ed.), Our Mag, LMA/4721/01 (a private circulation manuscript magazine of 1856).

Principal Chess Magazines Relevant The following are the principal, but by no means only, chess journals that were read in hard copy or microfilm. Many references to other titles will be found in the chapter notes. Brentano’s Chess Monthly, 1881–1882. British Chess Magazine, 1881–1900 (and some later articles where relevant). The Chess-Monthly (17 vols., 1879–1896). Chess Player’s Chronicle (and variant titles), 1861–1900. The Chess Player’s Magazine, 1863–1867. The Chess World, 1865–1869. The City of London Chess Magazine, 1874–1876. Deutsche Schachzeitung [and variant titles], 1860–1883. The Huddersfield College Magazine, 1872–1880. International Chess Magazine, 1885–1891. Neue Berliner Schachzeitung, 1864–1871. Oesterreichische Schachzeitung, 1872–1874. Sissa, 1873–1874. The Westminster [Chess Club] Papers, 1868–1879.

Principal Newspaper Chess Columns Numerous searches were made in the British Newspaper Archive. The following are the principal journals with chess columns that were read in complete runs in hard copy or microfilm. Year spans indicated by * are those relevant to Steinitz in columns that had longer runs. Numerous references to other titles will be found in the chapter notes. Ashore or Afloat, 1883. Bell’s Life in London, 1862–1873*. The Era, 1862–1873*. The Field, 1862–1900*. The Figaro, 1876–1882 * (sometimes the title was London Figaro). Illustrated London News, 1862–1900*. Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News, 1874–1900. Land and Water, 1870–1885. The Sporting Gazette (Limited), 1862–1864. The Sportsman, 1874–1876. Telegraf (Vienna), 1860–1861. Waldheim’s Illustrirte Zeitung (Vienna), 1862–1863.

Tournament and Match Books In chronological order, first of the tournaments, and within them, of first editions. Years stated are those of the competition reported (or the first that Steinitz played in, in the case of multiple years). Several of the nineteenth century books were reprinted by Olms in their Tschaturanga series, including the first three German federation congresses in one volume. Some of the books were reprinted (in some cases incompletely) as BCM Quarterlies. 1862: Löwenthal, J. J., and G. W. Medley. The Chess Congress of 1862: A Collection of the Games Played… (London 1864). Suhle, Berthold. Der Schachcongress zu London im Jahre 1862 (Berlin 1864).

1866/1867: Buschke, A. (ed./translator). California Chess Reporter, supplement no. 2: Adolf Anderssen–William Steinitz: World Championship Match 1866 (San Francisco 1952). Contains the game annotations by M. I. Chigorin from Novoe Vremya. Gelo, James H. (ed.). Chess World Championships: All the Games, volume 1 (3d edition, Jefferson: McFarland 2006).

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Bibliography

Löwenthal, J. J., and G. W. Medley. The Transactions of the British Chess Association for the Years 1866 and 1867 (London 1868). Neumann, G. R., and J. Arnous de Rivière (eds.). Congrès International des Échecs (Paris 1868). Gillam, A. J., Dundee 1867 (Nottingham 2011).

1868/9: Löwenthal, J. J., and G. W. Medley. The Transactions of the British Chess Association for the Years 1868 and 1869 (London 1869). Gillam, A. J. The Meeting of the British Chess Association London 1868/9 (Nottingham 2003).

1870: Gillam, A. J. Baden Baden 1870 (Nottingham 1999). Haas, Stefan. Das Schachturnier zu Baden-Baden 1870; Der unbekannte Schachmeister Adolf Stern (Ludwigshafen: Schachzentrale Rattmann, 2006).

1872: Gillam, A. J. London 1872, Altona 1872 (Nottingham 2012).

1873: Lehner, H[ermann] & C[onstantin] Schwede. Der erste Wiener internationale Schachcongress im Jahre 1873 (Leipzig 1874).

1876: Steinitz, William. Chess Match between Messrs. Steinitz and Blackburne. Played at The West End Chess Club, London, February 17 to March 2, 1876 (London: The Field 1876).

1882: Bijl, Christiaan M. Das II. Internationale Schachmeisterturnier Wien 1882 (Zürich 1984).

1883: Minchin, J[ames] I[nnes]. The Games played in the London International Chess Tournament 1883 (London 1884). Grondijs, Henricus Hubertus (ed.). The international chess tournament London 1883: in letters [sent to the editors of Turf, Field and Farm magazine] (Rijswijk: Rueb 2010).

1895: Cheshire, Horace F. The Hastings Chess Tournament 1895 (New York and London 1896). Schallopp, Emil. Das Internationale Schachturnier zu Hastings im August–September 1895 (Leipzig 1896).

1899: Lord, F. W., and W. Ward-Higgs (eds.). The Book of the London International Chess Congress 1899 (London 1900).

Nineteenth Century Books and Pamphlets Bird, Henry Edward. Chess Masterpieces (London 1875). _____. Modern Chess and Chess Masterpieces (London, in seven parts: 1885, 1886, 1887). _____. Bird’s Chess Reviews, part 1 (London 1890). _____. Chess History and Reminiscences (London 1893). Edge, Frederick Milnes. The Exploits and Triumphs in Europe of Paul Morphy the Chess Champion (New York 1859; reprint 1973). _____. Paul Morphy the chess champion: an account of his career in America and Europe, with a history of chess and chess clubs, and anecdotes of famous players; by an Englishman (London 1859: essentially the same text as the previous, but without the author’s name). Ellis, John Henry. Chess Sparks, or, short and bright games of chess (London: Longmans 1895). Gastineau, Edward Thomas. Under the Mulberry Tree; or, Holiday

Chess at Checkham, in the Years 1873 to 1880, by Ned Oxigen (“Printed for Private Circulation Only,” London ca. 1880). MacDonnell, George Alcock. Chess Life-Pictures, containing Biographical Sketches, Caissana, and Character-Sketches (London 1883). _____. The Knights and Kings of Chess (London 1894). Steinitz, W[illiam]. The Modern Chess Instructor, Part 1 (New York & London 1889) and Part 2, section one (New York and London 1895); the final section never appearing. Reprint of both parts (Zurich: Olms 1984). Suhle, Berthold, & G. R. Neumann. Die neueste Theorie und Praxis des Schachspiels seit dem Schachcongress zu New York i. J. 1857 (Berlin: Julius Springer 1865). Taylor, I. O. Howard [John Odin Howard]. Chess Brilliants: One Hundred Games (Norwich: Samuel Miller 1869). _____. Chess Skirmishes (Norwich: A. H. Goose, 1889). Walker, J[ames] M[anders]. The History of the Oxford University Chess Club, compiled from the Club Minute Books, by J. M. Walker, formerly President of the Club (Oxford 1885).

Secondary Sources Bibliographies and Principal Works of Reference Betts, Douglas A. Chess: An Annotated Bibliography of Works Published in the English Language 1850–1968 (Boston, Mass. 1974; reprint: Olomouc: Moravian Chess 2005). Di Felice, Gino. Chess Results, 1747–1900: A Comprehensive Record with 465 Tournament Crosstables and 590 Match Scores (Jefferson: McFarland 2004). Foster, Joseph (ed.). Alumni Oxonienses, the Members of the University of Oxford 1715–1866 (4 vols.; Oxford 1888). Gaige, Jeremy. Chess Personalia: A Bio-Bibliography (Jefferson: McFarland 1987). Hooper, David, and Kenneth Whyld. The Oxford Companion to Chess (Oxford, 1st ed. 1984; 2d revised ed. 1992). Pratt, Alfred T. Camden. People of the Period: A Collection of Biographies of Upwards of Six Thousand Living Celebrities (London: Neville Beeman, 1897, 2 vols.). Venn, John and J. A. Alumni Cantabrigienses: a biographical list of all known students, graduates and holders of office at the University of Cambridge, from the earliest times to 1900 (2 parts in 10 vols.; Cambridge 1922–1954). Whyld, Ken (ed.). Chess Columns: A List (Olomouc: Moravian Chess 2002).

Books About Steinitz Bachmann, Ludwig. Schachmeister Steinitz, Ein Lebensbild des ersten Weltschachmeisters dargestellt in einer vollständigen Sammlung seiner Partien (4 vols., C. Brügel & Sohn, Ansbach 1910–21; vol 1. 1859–1877, pub. 1910 (second edition 1925); vol 2. 1878–1883, pub. 1913 (second edition 1928); vol 3. 1884–1893, pub. 1920; vol 4. 1894– 1900, pub. 1921). In 1980, Edition Olms of Zurich reprinted volumes 1–2 of the second edition as one book, and volumes 3 and 4 as another. Devidé, Charles (ed.). A memorial to William Steinitz (New York, Putnam 1901). Devidé, Charles (ed.). William Steinitz Selected Chess Games (New York, Dover 1974; expanded edition of previous title, edited with new material by David Hooper). Ehn, Michael. Geniales Schach im Wiener Kaffeehaus 1750–1918 (Edition Steinbauer: Vienna 2017), especially Chapter 7. Fiala, Vlastimil (compiler). The Chess Columns of The Field, edited by Wilhelm Steinitz, 1873–1882 (Photographic reprint in 3 vols, Olomouc: 2012, 2014, and 2015). Hannak, Jacques. Der Michel Angelo des Schachspiels: ein geschictlicher Abriss zum 100. Geburtstag des ersten Schachweltmeisters

Bibliography Wilhelm Steinitz (Verlag der Wiener Schachzeitung 1936; Olms reprint, Zurich 1989). Harding, Tim. Eminent Victorian Chess Players (Jefferson: McFarland 2012), especially Chapter 6. Hooper, David (ed.). Weltgeschichte des Schachs 7: Steinitz (Hamburg: Wildhagen 1968). Kasparov, Garry. My Great Predecessors, volume I: Steinitz, Lasker, Capablanca, Alekhine (London 2002). Landsberger, Kurt. William Steinitz, Chess Champion: A Biography of the Bohemian Caesar (Jefferson: McFarland 1993). Linder, Isaak and Vladimir. Wilhelm Steinitz 1st World Chess Champion (Milford: Russell Enterprises 2014). Neishtadt, Y. I. Pervy Chempion Mira (Moscow: Fizkultura i Sport 1971). Pickard, Sid (ed.). The Games of Wilhelm Steinitz First World Chess Champion (Dallas; Pickard & Son, 1995). Pickard, Sid (ed.). The Collected Works of Wilhelm Steinitz (CDROM: Dallas, Pickard & Son, no date, approx 2003). Pritchett, Craig. Steinitz Move by Move (Everyman: London 2015). Steinitz, William (ed. Landsberger). The Steinitz Papers: Letters and Documents of the First World Chess Champion (Jefferson and London: McFarland 2002). Thimann, R[ichard] G[raham]. Wilhelm Steinitz (Nottingham: The Chess Player, 1968).

Major Articles Relevant to Steinitz Anderberg, Peter. “Harrwitz gegen Steinitz—Duell in Wien,” in Caissa, 1/2018, pages 18–27. Anderberg, Peter. “Steinitz in Wien—Neues aus alten Queelen” in Caissa, 2/2018, pages 80–91. Ehn, Michael. “Der Junge Steinitz. Legenden und Wirklichkeiten,” in Karl 1/2012, pages 10–17. Fischer, Robert J. “The Steinitz–Dubois match,” in Chess Life (various issues, 1964). Guest, Antony. “Steinitz and Other Chess-Players,” in The Contemporary Review (November 1900). Hoffer, Leopold. “The Chess Masters of To-Day,” Fortnightly Review, XL:240 (December 1886) pages 753–765. Hooper, David. “Steinitz,” in E. G. Winter (ed.), World Chess Champions (Oxford: Pergamon, 1981). Hübner, Robert. “Der Erste Wettkampf zwischen Blackburne und Steinitz,” in Caissa, 1/2016, pages 5–16. Hübner, Robert. “Der Wettkampf Anderssen–Steinitz, London 1866,” in Arno Nickel (ed.), Schachkalendar 2016, pages 172–199. Landsberger, Kurt. “Steinitz Revisited,” in Quarterly for Chess History 3 (1999), pages 111–117. Pritchett, Craig. Giants of Innovation (Everyman: London 2011), Chapter 1. Thanhofer, Dr., & Ludwig Bachmann. “Aus Steinitz’ Jugendzeit,” in Österreichische Schachrundschau, IV (January 1925), pages 2–5. Whyld, Kenneth (ed. Ralf Binnewirtz et al.). Simpson’s, Headquarters of the World (Nottingham: Ken Whyld Association 2013). Williams, Gareth. “The Grand Cigar Divan—Home of Chess!” in Chess, June 1963, pages 40–42.

Other Player Biographies and Game Collections Alphabetically by player surname firstly, and then by date of publication; name of subject in boldface: Gottschall, Hermann von. Adolf Anderssen: der Altmeister deutscher Schachspielkunst. Sein Leben und Schaffen (Leipzig 1912). Renette, Hans. H. E. Bird: A Chess Biography with 1,198 Games (Jefferson: McFarland 2016). Blackburne, Joseph Henry (ed. Peter Anderson Graham). Mr. Blackburne’s Games at Chess. Selected, annotated and arranged by him-

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self (London 1899; also reprinted with a new introduction by David Hooper as: Blackburne’s Chess Games, New York: Dover 1979). Harding, Tim. Joseph Henry Blackburne: A Chess Biography (Jefferson: McFarland 2015). Forster, Richard. Amos Burn: A Chess Biography (Jefferson: McFarland 2004). Adams, Jimmy. Mikhail Chigorin: The Creative Genius (New greatly enlarged edition: Alkmaar, New In Chess, 2016). Hindle, Owen, and Bob Jones. The English Morphy? The Life and Games of Cecil de Vere First British Chess Champion (Exmouth 2001). Zavatarelli, Fabrizio. Ignaz Kolisch: The Life and Chess Career (Jefferson: McFarland 2012). Lawson, David. Paul Morphy, The Pride and Sorrow of Chess (New edition, University of Louisiana, 2010). Renette, Hans, and Fabrizio Zavatarelli. Neumann, Hirschfeld and Suhle, 19th Century Berlin Chess Biographies with 711 Games (Jefferson: McFarland 2018). Renette, Hans. Louis Paulsen, A Chess Biography with 670 Games (Jefferson: McFarland 2018). Adams, Jimmy. Johannes Zukertort: Artist of the Chessboard (Yorklynn: Caissa 1989; reprint: Alkmaar, New In Chess, 2014).

Other Works Alphabetically by author: Douglas, Hugh. The Underground Story (London: Robert Hale, 1963). Harding, Tim. British Chess Literature to 1914: A Handbook for Historians (Jefferson: McFarland 2018). Kiernan, Bernard P. “A History of International Master Chess: 1851– 1914: A Study In Modern Institutional History” (unpublished Ph.D. thesis, The American University 1957). Lillywhite, Bryant. London Coffee Houses: A Reference Book of Coffee Houses of the Seventeenth, Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries (London 1963). Newton, Henry Chance. History of “Ye George and Vulture Tavern, One of London’s Oldest Inns” (London 1909). Popper-Lynkeus, Josef. Selbtsbiographie (Leipzig: Verlag Unesma 1917). Rose, R. N. The Field, 1853–1953: A Centenary Volume (London 1953). Sergeant, Philip Walsingham. A Century of British Chess (London: Hutchinson 1934). Walsh, Peter W. The Story of Dundee Chess Club: Its Personalities and Games (Dundee 1984). Wolmar, Christian. The Subterranean Railway: How the London Underground Was Built & How It Changed the City Forever (Revised and updated ed., London: Atlantic Books 2012; first ed., 2004).

Online Services and Useful Weblinks Ancestry: www.ancestry.co.uk ANNO (Austrian newspaper archive): anno.onb.ac.at British Newspaper Archive: www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk Chess Archaeology (ed. Nick Pope), www.chessarch.com/index.php Chess Book Chats (ed. Michael Clapham): https://chessbookchats. blogspot.ie Chess History and Literature Society [formerly Ken Whyld Association]: www.kwabc.org Chess Notes (ed. Edward Winter), www.chesshistory.com/winter/ Cleveland Public Library Digital Gallery: cplorg.cdmhost.com/ Edo Chess Ratings (ed. Prof. Rod Edwards): www.edochess.ca Jewish Chronicle Archive: https://www.thejc.com/archive Liverpool Chess Club: www.liverpoolchessclub.co.uk/ Purchasing power of British Pounds across time: www.measuringworth.com/ukcompare/

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Index of Opponents (to game numbers) Single-handed games by Steinitz are indexed for his opponents, except that the fragments from Cologne 1898 in Chapter 13 are not included. Consultation games are indexed for both Steinitz’s partners and opponents. Spurious games not actually played by Steinitz (in Appendix II) are omitted. For depictions of persons see General Index.

Albin, Adolf 590 Amateurs (anonymous opponents) 21, 22a, 22b, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 34, 36, 40, 85, 86, 115, 116, 117, 134, 141, 142, 248, 285, 299, 300, 308, 346, 347, 385, 390, 433, 452, 457, 459, 487, 488, 502, 503 Anderssen, Karl Ernst Adolf 49, 66–69, 191–204, 323, 324, 416, 417 Anthony, Edwyn 303, 310, 314, 338, 355, 486, 491 Arnous de Rivière, Jules 254, 255, 504 Baddeley, John 445 Baker, John 289 Ball, Walter William Rouse 450 Ballard, Dr. William R. 391, 392 Barber, George 140 Bardeleben, Curt von 584 Barnes, Thomas Wilson 54 Barry, George Frith 154 Barry, Sam 153 Baxter, Charles R. 241 Baxter, Crichton Milne 243 Belayev, Alexander Petrovich 388 Bilborough, A. 316 Bird, Henry Edward 46, 47, 205–221, 286, 304, 400, 422, 423, 472, 492, 520, 538, 551, 556, 582, 608, 611 Blackburne, Joseph Henry 51, 88–97, 113, 114, 287, 290, 298, 306, 317, 319, 320, 367, 400, 403, 404, 405, 426, 427, 469, 470, 472, 476–482, 507, 524, 550, 569, 577, 607, 617 Bodé, Charles Henry 435, 455 Boden, Samuel Standidge 288 Bolt, William 150 Brandon 297 Breul, Dr. E. 393, 431 Brien, Robert Barnett 98 Brook, Charles Lewis 460 Burden, Francis (Frank) 42, 48, 147, 174

Burn, Amos 472, 588 Burt, John Norman 389 Bussy, B. F. 434

Ensor, Albert W. 247 Eschwege, Hermann 301, 348 Evill, the Rev. William Ernest 449

Cairns, James 496 Chappell, W. T. 458 Chigorin, Mikhail Ivanovich 516, 531, 543, 558, 587, 600, 610 Chilton, William 484 Churchill, Lord Randolph 311, 314 City of London Chess Club (chiefly Steinitz and Potter) 386, 387 Clerc, Albert 504 Cohn, Wilhelm 606, 614 Cordner, Edward James 151 Cronhelm, Edward 148 Czarnowski, Hieronim Ignacy 252, 253

Fenton, Richard Henry F. 368 Ferguson, George 438, 441 Fish, James 446 Fisher, Bernard William 384 Fleissig, Bernhard 513 Fleissig, Maximilian 406, 407, 408 Forster, Robert T. 178 Foster, William Erskine 337 Franklin, Selim or W.? 132 Franklin, William 292 Fraser, George Brunton 226–240, 278 Fraser, Dr. James Cunningham 280, 283 From, Martin Severin J. 262, 263

D’André, Baron Emile 268, 269 Day, G. M. 483 Deacon, Frederic Horace 43, 44, 45, 62a, 65, 99–106 Delta see Donaldson de Rivière see Arnous De Soyres, John 391, 392, 451 de St. Bon, Chevalier 65 Deutsch, Alois? 16 de Vere, Cecil Valentine 139, 162–173, 178– 182, 272, 273, 275, 287, 288, 317, 332, 335, 365 Donaldson, the Rev. John 64 Dubois, Serafino 63, 71–79 Duffy, Patrick Thomas 145, 146 Dufresne, Gustav 442 Dupré, C. E. A. 395, 396, 397

Gamma see Gordon Gelbfuhs, Oscar 420, 421 Gifford, H. W. B. 432 Gocher, John 158 Golmayo y Zúpide, Celso 251, 256, 257 Gordon, the Rev. Thomas 108 Gossip, George H. D. 291, 305 Grand see Gray Gray, Robert Daniel Horace 356, 360, 361 Green, S. J. 188, 189 Green, Valentine 56, 57, 58, 121–129, 131, 176 Gunsberg, Isidor Arthur 579

Earnshaw, the Rev. Samuel Walter 223, 224, 489 Ellis, the Rev. John Henry 160 Englisch, Berthold 523, 534, 542, 555, 557, 561

401

Haggard, H. D. 293 Halford, John 284 Hamel, Ludwig 107 Hamel, Sigismund 279, 447 Hamppe, Carl 1, 6, 17, 35 Hampton, Thomas Inglis 177 Hannah, James Washington 55 Harrwitz, Daniel 37, 38 Healey, Edward 112, 130 Heijermans, H. 213, 274

402

Index of Opponents (to game numbers)

Heral, Josef 424, 425 Hewitt, Thomas 178, 190 Hirsch, Alfred J. 493 Hirschfeld, Philipp Martin 119, 302, 340, 492 Hoffer, Leopold 492 Holstein, J. 111 Hruby, Vincenz 511, 527 Huttley, E. J. 456 Ijzerman, J. M. 398 Inman, I. 316 Jacobs, Herbert Levi 623 Janowski, Dawid Markelowicz 591, 598, 622 Jeney, Eduard 29, 30, 31, 32, 33 Kaiser 250 Kamphuizen, W. 394, 430 Keates 353, 354 Kennedy, Capt. Hugh Alexander 177, 178 Kennedy, R. 494 Keynes, John Neville 450 Kidson, H. E. 441 Kling, Josef 65 Kockelkorn, Karl 501 Kolisch, Ignaz 258, 259, 274 "L of Manchester" see Blackburne Lamb, F. E. 294 Lang 12, 14, 18 Lasker, Emanuel 583, 597, 620 Lee, Francis Joseph 605, 612 Lees, R. 437 Lenhof 2, 3 Lindehn, Dr. Hans A. W. 137 Lindsay, David 242 Linton, Edward Francis 312, 339 Liverpool Chess Club 573, 574, 596 Long, Thomas 155 Lord, John 222, 249 Löwenthal, John Jacob 62b, 65, 120, 177, 178 Loyd, Sam 264, 265, 274 Maas, Arthur J. 435 MacDonnell, George Alcock 50, 80, 149, 152, 183, 184, 276, 287, 288, 366, 472 Mackenzie, George Henry 509, 525, 546, 571 Madan, Falconer 463 Marco, Georg 593 Maróczy, Géza 604, 621 Martin, Major William 362 Mason, James 492, 519, 536, 545, 566, 572, 578, 599, 619 McClelland, William 444 Medley, George Webb 65, 120, 177, 178

Meitner, Dr. Philipp 4, 11, 409, 410, 411, 505, 506, 515, 530 Meredith, Samuel R. 359, 461 Mieses, Jacques 586 Minchin, Major Charles Cherry 345 Minchin, James Innes 175, 345 Minckwitz, Johannes von 317, 328, 329 Mocatta, Abraham 185, 186, 187, 467 Monck, William Henry Stanley 499 Mongredien, Augustus 60, 87, 118, 120 Mongredien, Augustus, Jr. 295 Moriau, C. 468 Morphy, John 500 Mortimer, James 544, 559, 564 Murphy, Dr. Joseph B. 225 Murphy, J. see Morphy Murray, Archibald Keir 473 Myers, W. C. 316 Neumann, Gustav Richard Ludwig 270, 271, 277, 317, 326, 327 Nicholson, Joseph Shield 450 Noa, Josef 508, 549, 568, 570 Nowotny, Friedrich 7, 39 Owen, John 52, 53 Parnell, Victor A. L. D. 462 Parratt, Walter 463 Paulsen, Louis 61, 317, 330, 333, 414, 415, 428, 429, 521, 537 Phillips, F. E. 485 Pilhal, Eduard 5, 8, 34? Pillsbury, Harry Nelson 581, 603, 618 Pim, J. B. 497 Pitschel, Karl 401, 402 Plunkett, Horace Curzon 464, 475 Pollock, William Henry Krause 580 Porges, Jules 436 Potter, William Norwood 351, 352, 386, 387, 391, 392, 469, 470 Ranken, the Rev. Charles Edward 177, 178, 309, 314, 336 Reiner, Dr. 13, 19, 20 Rippin, G. H. 453 Roberts, John Drew 495, 497, 498 Roberts, W. R. W. 497 Robey, James 59, 159 Rock 109 Rosenthal, Samuel 274, 318, 331, 334, 412, 413, 553, 554, 565, 567 Rousseau, Eugene 260, 261 Sandeman, Patrick 245 Schiffers, Emanuel Stepanovich 585 Schlechter, Carl 576, 609, 615 Schlesser (Schlösser, F.?) 110

Schüll, L. 442 Schwarz, Adolf 418, 419, 522, 535 Scott, Patrick 244, 281, 282 Sellman, Alexander 552, 563 Seymour 466 Showalter, Jackson Whipps 602, 613 Sich, A. 341–344 Sime, David 246 Skipworth, Arthur Bolland 547 Soffe, George D. 496 Soul, Cornelius 443 Steel, Robert 490 Steinkühler, Alexander 445, 448 Stern, Adolf 321, 322 Strauss, Rudolf 9, 10, 15, 41 Swyer, Dr. S. 349, 350 Tarrasch, Dr. Siegbert 594 Taylor, John Odin Howard 143, 144, 157 Teichmann, Richard 589 Tennant 84 Thorold, Edmund 133 Tinsley, Samuel 593, 601, 616 Tuthill, C. 495 Twigg, S. 156 Van der Haak, B. 399 Van der Meden 161 Vergani, Beniamino 575 Vienna Chess Club 386, 387 Vines, Dr. H. J. K. 474 von Bardeleben see Bardeleben von Minckwitz see Minckwitz Vyse, W. Elliott 458 Walbrodt, Carl August 595 Walker, George 65 Wallace, Captain 496 Walsh, J. 315 Ware, Preston 512, 528 Watts, W. H. 458 Wayte, William 138 Weiss, Miksa 517, 532 Wellington, Samuel 443 Wemmers, Carl 501 Whitefoord, B. 358 Wild, Charles Thompson 313, 357 Wilson, Dr. William John 81, 82, 83 Winawer, Szymon 266, 267, 325, 325a, 518, 533, 539, 540,541, 560 Wisker, John 296, 363 Wittek, Alexander 514, 529 Wood, J. M., Jr. 439, 440 Wright, S. 444 Zukertort, Johannes 364, 369–383, 469, 470, 471, 472, 492, 510, 526, 548, 562

Index of Openings— Traditional Names (to game numbers) Games that transpose to another opening are listed under both. Games played at odds are not indexed.

Alapin’s Opening (2 Ne2) 436 Anderssen Attack (1 a3) 392, 427 Benoni 592 Bird’s Opening 70, 611; From Gambit 101, 210, 327 Bishop’s Opening 2, 131, 190, 246, 384, 389, 394, 398, 434, 449, 465 Caro-Kann Defense 252, 623 Danish Gambit 137 Dutch Defense 53, 253, 272, 280, 381, 383, 453, 590, 594, 604, 608; Staunton Gambit 89, 91, 257, 352, 433, 538 Elephant Gambit 99 English Opening 29, 31, 33, 363, 386, 400, 413, 415, 418, 420, 425, 506, 525, 547 Evans Gambit: “Normal position” 9, 13, 19, 36, 42, 68, 80, 84, 102, 113, 114, 146, 159, 174, 191, 195, 197, 199, 201, 224, 239, 271, 304, 317, 320, 323, 328, 435, 472, 556, 558, 579; Accepted (other lines) 3, 4, 8, 15, 25, 41, 42, 134, 143, 144, 175, 193, 235, 356, 360, 361, 367, 373, 380, 382, 471, 484, 486, 520, 531, 587; Declined 44, 45, 74, 76, 78, 96, 312, 411, 470

Giuoco Piano: Old main line (4 c3 Nf6 5 d4) 5, 56, 148, 262, 299, 371, 372, 374, 397, 490, 576, 584; Other 24, 32, 39, 63, 69, 71, 75, 121, 123, 129, 139, 260, 288, 290, 294, 300, 310, 316, 419, 443, 448, 491, 536, 549, 574, 580 Irregular defense (1…a6) 289 Irregular openings 127 (1 e3), 399 (1 g3), 447 Italian Game see Giuoco Piano King’s Gambit: Allgaier Gambit 355, 379; Bishop’s Gambit 65, 73, 86, 104, 108, 274, 318, 370, 559, 577; Declined 40, 59, 122, 153, 177, 204, 241, 268, 307, 319, 339, 359, 365, 461, 482, 508, 515; Falkbeer CounterGambit 151, 178, 184, 245, 263, 366; Kieseritzky Gambit 57, 81, 83, 100, 103, 106, 119, 120, 124, 126, 133, 138, 157, 158, 291, 302, 305, 311, 336, 338, 344, 357, 375, 388, 401, 478, 485, 510; Muzio-Polerio Gambit 66, 67; Salvio Gambit 192, 194, 198, 200, 240, 303, 377, 395, 432, 489, 516, 527; Other 6, 12, 43, 98, 258, 270, 313, 337, 422, 492, 500 King’s Indian Defense 592 Lopez Opening (2 c3) 118, 393

Four Knights Game 269, 475, 585 French Defense: Advance variation 613, 616; Exchange variation (including 3 Nc3 Nf6 4 e×d5 and 3…Bb4 4 e×d5) 51, 55, 92, 94, 156, 180, 244, 267, 402, 460, 496; Rubinstein variation (3…d×e4) 107, 207, 209, 211, 213; Steinitz variation (2 e5) 513, 517, 518, 519, 522, 539, 568, 569; Steinitz variation (3 Nc3 Nf6 4 e5) 407, 410, 575; Other 215, 217, 219, 221, 252, 404, 429, 552, 566

Max Lange Attack see Two Knights Defense Modern Defense 65, 87, 182 Nimzo-Indian Defense (by transposition) 534, 544 Owen’s Defense (1 e4 b6) 88

403

Petroff Defense 47, 249, 462 Philidor Defense 17, 23, 72, 152, 183, 214, 578 Ponziani Opening 237, 296, 306, 473, 610 Queen’s Gambit: Accepted 37, 431, 586, 598, 607; Declined (Orthodox) 416, 529, 588, 605; Other 29, 31, 223, 544, 564, 581, 582, 600 Queen’s Pawn Games 512, 534, 572, 601, 612, 617 Ruy Lopez: Berlin Defense (3…Nf6) 49, 93, 149, 179, 181, 203, 206, 208, 212, 216, 218, 220, 269, 275, 286, 369, 567; Cozio Defense (3…Nge7) 255, 278, 306, 321, 335, 343, 403, 405, 406, 408; Steinitz Defense (3…d6) 573, 597, 599, 602, 603, 606, 615, 621, 622; Steinitz Defense Deferred (3…a6 4 Ba4 d6) 583, 589, 591, 593, 595; Slow variation (3…a6 4 Ba4 Nf6 5 d3) 376, 378, 417, 450, 476, 557, 562, 571; Other 145, 214, 409, 421, 423, 426, 504, 509, 511, 523, 524, 532, 545, 546, 553, 555, 560, 561, 563, 570 Scandinavian Defense 60, 155, 279, 528, 623 Scotch: Scotch Gambit (4 Bc4) 18, 20, 50, 444, 452; Scotch Game (4 N×d4 Nf6 5 N×c6) 251, 469; Pulling/Steinitz Variation (4 N×d4 Qh4) 259, 331, 387, 477, 479, 481, 530, 537 Sicilian Defense 38, 52, 54, 58, 90, 176, 196, 202, 242, 254, 256, 264, 266, 276, 287, 298, 315, 322, 332, 424, 483, 505, 521 Spanish Opening see Ruy Lopez Staunton Gambit see Dutch Defense Steinitz Gambit see Vienna Game

404

Index of Openings—Traditional Names (to game numbers)

Three Knights Game 333, 412, 428, 514, 526, 533, 535, 540, 548, 550, 551, 554, 565 Two Knights Defense 30, 48, 82, 125, 464, 466, 495; Max Lange Attack 7, 11, 499 Vienna Game: Steinitz Gambit (2…Nc6 3 f4

e×f4 4 d4) 277, 329, 330, 334, 345, 364, 396, 430, 442, 498, 541, 542, 543, 596; Other lines with 2 Nc3 Nc6 3 f4 14, 205, 284, 325, 348, 358; Steinitz Variation (2… Nf6 3 f4 d5 4 d3) 326, 340, 480, 507, 619, 620; Other lines with 2 Nc3 Nf6 3 f4 1, 10, 236, 238, 243, 308, 314, 347, 474, 501, 609,

614; lines with 2 Nc3 Bc5 (sometimes transposing to the Giuoco Piano, King's Gambit Declined or Bishop's Opening) 69, 105, 154, 261, 309, 324, 337, 339, 341, 342, 445, 468, 482, 493; Other 35, 46, 147, 150, 154, 265, 391, 414, 459, 463, 467, 497, 504, 618

Index of Openings—ECO Codes (to game numbers) Games played at odds are not indexed.

A00 A02 A03 A10 A13 A15 A20 A21 A28 A41 A80 A81 A82 A83 A84 A85 A92

127, 392, 399, 427 70, 101, 210 611 53, 272 33, 400, 420, 425, 525 363 413, 506, 547 386 418 415 253, 358 381, 453 89, 257 91 590, 594, 608 280, 604 383

B00 88, 273, 289, 351 B01 60, 155, 279, 528 B06 65, 87, 182 B14 623 B15 252 B20 202 B21 264 B23 90 B24 196, 254, 256, 287, 298 B30 266, 315 B40 52, 54, 58, 505 B44 38 B45 176, 424 B46 242, 276, 332, 483 B54 322 C00 221, 429, 513, 517, 518, 519, 522, 539, 568, 569 C01 51, 55, 92, 94, 180, 217, 219, 267, 290, 402, 496

C02 613, 616 C10 107, 207, 209, 211, 213 C11 404, 407, 410, 575 C13 552, 566 C14 215 C15 156, 244, 460 C20 118, 393, 436, 447 C21 137 C23 2, 131, 190, 384, 398, 449, 465 C24 246, 389, 394, 434 C25 14, 35, 46, 105, 147, 150, 154, 261, 265, 277, 284, 309, 324, 325, 329, 330, 334, 337, 341, 342, 345, 347, 348, 358, 364, 391, 396, 430, 442, 445, 459, 463, 467, 468, 493, 498, 504, 541, 542, 543, 596 C26 414 C29 1, 10, 205, 236, 238, 243, 308, 314, 326, 340, 474, 480, 497, 501, 507, 609, 614, 618, 619, 620 C30 40, 59, 122, 153, 204, 241, 268, 307, 319, 339, 359, 365, 461, 482, 508, 515 C31 151, 245, 263, 366 C32 184 C33 65, 73, 86, 104, 108, 274, 318, 370, 492, 559, 577 C35 264, 422 C37 12, 66, 67, 98, 192, 194, 198, 200, 240, 303, 313, 377, 395, 432, 489, 516, 527 C38 6, 270 C39 57, 81, 83, 100, 103, 106, 119, 120, 124, 126, 133, 138, 157, 158, 291, 302, 305, 311,

336, 338, 344, 355, 357, 375, 379, 401, 478, 485, 510 C40 99 C41 17, 23, 72, 152, 183, 462, 578 C42 47, 249 C44 18, 20, 50, 237, 296, 306, 444, 452, 473, 610 C45 77, 79, 251, 259, 331, 387, 469, 477, 479, 481, 530, 537 C46 333, 412, 428, 514, 526, 533, 535, 540, 548, 550, 551, 554, 565 C48 269, 475 C49 585 C50 24, 63, 69, 75, 123, 129, 288, 294, 300, 316, 419, 491, 499, 536, 549 C51 9, 13, 19, 36, 42, 44, 45, 68, 74, 76, 78, 80, 84, 96, 102, 113, 114, 146, 159, 174, 175, 191, 193, 195, 197, 199, 201, 224, 239, 271, 304, 312, 317, 320, 323, 328, 411, 435, 470, 472, 520, 531, 556, 558, 579 C52 3, 4, 8, 15, 25, 41, 134, 143, 144, 235, 356, 360, 361, 367, 373, 380, 382, 471, 484, 486 C54 5, 32, 56, 71, 121, 139, 148, 299, 371, 372, 374, 397, 443, 448, 490, 576, 584, 587 C55 7, 11, 30, 43, 125, 258, 260, 262, 466, 500, 521 C56 39 C57 82, 464, 495 C58 48 C59 28

405

C60 255, 278, 321, 335, 343, 403, 405, 406, 408, 546, 560, 561, 563 C62 214, 573, 597, 599, 602, 603, 606, 615, 621, 622 C63 145 C65 203, 206, 212, 216, 218, 286, 553, 567 C66 181 C67 49, 93, 149, 208, 275, 369 C70 509, 511, 523, 524, 532, 545, 555, 570 C72 591, 593 C75 583, 589 C77 376, 378, 409, 417, 426, 450, 476, 557, 562, 571 C80 421, 423 C84 220 C87 595 D00 512, 572, 601, 612 D02 617 D07 600 D20 37, 586, 607 D26 431, 598 D30 223 D31 582 D32 29, 31 D37 588 D40 564 D50 581 D53 605 D55 416, 529 E22 534 E51 544 E70 592

General Index (to page numbers) Numbers in bold italics indicate that a likeness of the person (or other image relevant to them) appears in a picture (and usually a caption) on that page. Steinitz himself is referenced throughout the book, so only illustrations and some topical references are indexed under his name. References are made to chapter end-notes only in cases where these have substantial extra information.

Abbott, Joseph William 322 Adamson, George 240, 278 Adjournment 303 Adjudication 215, 284 Ajeeb (chess automaton) 268 Alapin, Semyon (Simon) 230 Albany, Duke of (Prince Leopold, son of Queen Victoria) 311, 389 Albin, Adolf 327, 329, 331, 334 The Albion (Mackenzie newspaper column) 144, 232, 233 Albion Tavern, Great Russell St., London 77, 125, 213 Alcoholic drinks 54, 71, 72, 78, 111, 151, 186, 189, 265 Alekhine, Alexander A. 349, 350 Alexander, Dr. Charles Revans 125, 383 Alexandre, Aaron 79 Allen, H. C. 305 Allgaier, Johann Baptist 17; Allgaier Gambit 103, 195, 201, 211 Alternation game 90, 92, 97, 127, 165, 216, 235, 255, 273, 323 American Chess Bulletin 113, 350 American Chess Magazine (the earlier of that title) 332, 335, 336, 357 Amsterdam 64, 79 Ancestry genealogy service (ancestry.co.uk) 74, 406 Anderberg, Peter (chess historian) 23, 26, 33, 57, 348 Anderson, Mrs. Gertrude (née Field) 334 Anderssen, Karl Ernst Adolf 3, 4, 18, 21, 25, 30, 35, 38, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 54, 56, 57, 58, 59, 84, 91, 92, 98, 104, 117, 118, 121, 123, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137, 139, 145, 146, 147, 148, 149, 150, 154, 157, 158, 171, 178, 187, 189, 190, 193, 194, 208,

210, 211, 212, 217, 220, 222, 225, 228, 236, 255, 265, 266, 268, 271, 346, 347, 349, 370, 372 Angas, Silas 120 Anglo-American cable matches 279, 322, 335 ANNO (Austrian newspaper database) 18, 21 Anthony, Charles 183, 274, 283 Anthony, Edwyn 178, 179, 183, 184, 194, 195, 200, 201, 266, 273 Aquarium, the Royal (Westminster) 267, 337 Argall, Henry 198 Arnous de Rivière, Jules 25, 39, 40, 157, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 170, 284, 285, 352 Ashore or Afloat 317, 368 Associations, chess 26, 69, 107, 185, 213, 242, 244, 252, 262, 337, 356 Atlantic Ocean 144, 265, 319, 361 Augsburg, Germany 332 The Australasian (newspaper) 207 Australia 41, 181, 266, 369 Austria 4, 15, 18, 20, 21, 23, 25, 26, 128, 154, 162, 167, 176, 196, 216, 220, 225, 226, 227, 276, 278, 284, 285, 299, 300, 301, 305, 320, 334, 372 Avery, Thomas 243 Bachmann, Ludwig 3, 4, 5, 17, 18, 19, 20, 26, 110, 173, 202, 214, 323, 332 (meeting with Steinitz) 334, 337, 342; Schachmeister Steinitz (excluding references to numbered games) 3, 20, 21, 22, 26, 58, 87, 94, 97, 131, 321, 324 Bad Wörishofen 332 Baddeley, John 233 Baden-Baden international congress (1870)

406

3, 170, 171, 182, 185, 186, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194, 203, 219, 268, 348 Baker, John 97, 175 Baldwin, Herbert 306 Ball, Walter William Rouse 235 Ballard, Dr. William Robert, Jr. 207, 216, 217, 251, 258, 306, 336 Baltimore, Maryland 284, 303 Bank of England 63, 64, 65, 71, 77, 181, 195 Barber, George 105, 121 Bardeleben, Curt von 305, 323, 326, 331 passim Barmen, Germany (now part of Wuppertal) 133 Barnes, Thomas Wilson 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 51, 167 Barry, George Frith 107, 110, 111 Barry, Sam 107, 111 Barsky, Vladimir 346 Basic Chess Endings see Fine Bath 101, 154, 207 Baxter, Charles R. 155, 169 Baxter, Crichton Milne 155 Baxter, A. B. (City of London Club member) 198, 199, 200 Bayer, Konrad (problem composer) 17, 18 Bedford 65, 67, 76 Belayev, Alexander Petrovich 92, 105, 122, 215 Belfast 36, 85; Belfast News-Letter 107 Belgium 90 Bell’s Life in London 8, 34, 37, 56, 59, 60, 61, 62, 86, 90, 108, 130, 131, 135, 136, 151, 152, 153, 168, 178 Berger, Professor Johann Nepomuk 214, 334, 350 Berlin 38, 49, 56, 78, 79, 96, 126, 128, 135, 139, 178, 211, 212, 275, 278, 279, 285, 331, 332, 360, 361, 363, 367

General Index (to page numbers) Bermondsey Chess Club, London 200, 237, 240 Bernstein, Ossip 350 Bijl, Christiaan M.: Das II. Internationale Schachmeisterturnier Wien 1882 3, 286, 287, 288, 289, 290, 291, 292, 293, 294, 295, 296, 297, 298, 299 Bilborough, A. 185 Billiards 74 Bird, Henry Edward (other than numbered games) 3, 6, 7, 33, 37, 41, 51, 58, 71, 72, 74, 79, 83, 84, 104, 105, 121, 124, 125, 126, 137– 147 passim (match with Steinitz 141), 148, 149, 150, 171, 172, 173, 181, 210, 213, 220, 225, 226, 227, 228, 235, 236, 237, 238, 242, 244, 245, 246, 248, 256, 258, 265, 267, 271, 272, 273, 284, 286, 288, 289, 295, 297, 298, 299, 305, 306, 310, 311, 312, 316, 317, 319, 323, 331, 336, 339, 340, 344, 345, 347, 348, 355, 363, 369, 370; A Slight Chess Retrospect and Explanation 146, 272; Bird’s Chess Reviews 37, 146, 248; Chess History and Reminiscences 79, 146; Chess Masterpieces 51, 123, 166, 220, 224; Modern Chess 137, 142, 143, 146, 173, 220, 297 Birmingham, England 40, 134, 147, 151, 167, 172, 243, 274, 336 Birmingham Journal 134, 147, 172 Black and White (periodical) 340 Blackburne, Joseph Henry (other than numbered games) 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 13, 35, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 53, 86–89 passim (match with Steinitz 1862/3), 92, 94, 95, 97, 100, 104, 105, 109, 110, 149, 157, 158, 164, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 175, 177, 179, 180, 181, 182, 186, 187, 189, 193, 194, 195, 198, 203, 204, 205, 206, 207, 210, 213, 216, 217, 219, 220, 221, 222, 224, 225, 226, 227, 228, 230, 237, 238, 241, 242, 243, 244, 246, 250, 250–253 passim (second match with Steinitz 1876), 254, 256, 257, 258, 259, 260, 261, 262, 263, 264, 265, 266, 267, 268, 269, 271, 272, 278, 281, 282, 283, 287, 292, 293, 295, 297, 298, 302, 305, 306, 308, 311, 315, 316, 317, 319, 323, 331, 334, 336, 341, 343, 345, 347, 349, 353, 354, 356, 357, 358, 359, 360, 361, 362, 363, 365, 369, 372 Blackheath Chess Club, London 89, 104, 105 Blackmore, Richard Doddridge, novelist and chess player 228, 229, 250, 389 Blake, Joseph Henry 336 Bland, William Robert 271 Blindfold play 6, 19, 20, 23, 24, 28, 41, 44, 45, 52, 68, 86, 87, 89, 95, 107, 109, 110, 111, 135, 153, 155, 156, 166, 169, 174, 175, 183, 184, 185, 194, 195, 200, 201, 202, 206, 207, 213, 215, 227, 238, 239, 240, 241, 242, 243, 249, 259, 260, 264, 271, 274, 275, 276, 279, 283, 285, 304, 311, 323, 334, 335, 349, 357 Blumenfeld, Beniamin Markovich 350 Blunden, Sir John (Bart.) 274, 276 Boase, Frederic (ed.): Modern English Biography 72

Bodé, Charles Henry 236, 237, 347 Boden, Samuel Standidge 25, 37, 38, 39, 41, 46, 47, 48, 79, 83, 84, 90, 92, 115, 118, 125, 126, 127, 131, 132, 133, 135, 136, 137, 140, 141, 143, 144, 145, 146, 165, 174, 175, 181, 207, 213, 246, 278, 281, 319, 355, 358 Bodleian Library, Oxford 194, 238, 240 Bohemia (province of Austrian Empire, now western Czech Republic) 15, 19, 196, 256 Bohemia (publication) 4 Bolt, William 108, 109 Bolton, the Rev. Horatio (problem composer) 260 Boston, Massachusetts 155, 162, 286 Bourdonnais, Louis Charles Mahé de la see de la Bourdonnais Bowles, Mrs. Rhoda 323, 326, 327 Bradford 22, 185 Bradlaugh, Charles (MP) 271 Branch, William Shelley 244 Brandon (amateur player at Divan) 177 Brasenose College, Oxford 201, 202 Brassey, Thomas (1st Earl Brassey) 323 Breslau, Prussia (now Wrocław, Poland) 44, 104, 126 Breul, Dr. E. 217, 227 Bribery 224, 286 Brien, Robert Barnett 79, 89 Brighton, Sussex 41, 51, 268, 278 Bristol 40, 79, 207, 215, 228, 249, 281, 357; Bristol and Clifton Chess Association 215 British Association for the Advancement of Science 165 British Chess Association (B.C.A.) 3, 8, 38, 46, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 88, 100, 118, 121, 122, 123, 124, 127, 128, 139, 150, 156, 164, 166, 170, 171, 174, 175, 176, 177, 194, 209, 213, 215, 281, 305, 347, 351, 365; B.C.A. 1866 Congress 120; B.C.A. 1868/9 Congress 173; B.C.A. 1872 Congress 203– 208 passim (206), 348 British Chess Club (London) 337 British Chess Magazine (B.C.M.) 8, 28, 56, 71, 74, 79, 104, 127, 180, 181, 215, 219, 234, 237, 239, 248, 278, 302, 303, 305, 307, 314, 329, 330, 335, 336, 337 British Chess Review 22 British Library 228 British Newspaper Archive 235 Brook, Charles Lewis 239 Brooklyn 277, 321 Brunswick (Braunschweig) 272, 286 Buckle, Henry Thomas 79, 83, 236 Burden, Francis (Frank) 5, 36, 38, 91, 106, 120, 121, 125, 126, 281 Burn, Amos (chess master) 180, 212, 230, 231, 232, 233, 234, 235, 236, 239, 241, 243, 271, 305, 324, 328, 331, 333, 334, 336, 337, 338, 343 Burt, John 215 Burton-on-Trent 258, 259 Buschke, Albrecht 128, 134, 257, 258 Bussy (or Bussey), B. F. 216, 228 Butler, H. W. 71 Byron, Lord 283

407 Café de la Régence, Paris 17, 22, 35 Cairns, James 275, 322, 335 Caissa (Chess history magazine) 23, 26, 31, 32, 33, 87, 89, 95, 121, 123, 259, 304, 348 California Chess Reporter 101, 128 Cambridge 183, 201, 202, 215, 216, 235, 239, 241, 254, 258, 264, 268, 274, 278, 283, 365 Camden, London 49, 256 Campbell, Joseph Graham 41, 46, 154 Canada 100, 144, 156, 216 Capablanca, José Raúl 14, 349 Cardiff 109, 215 Carlsen, Magnus 296 Caro, Horatio 158, 336, 344 Caro-Kann Defense 158, 344 Cathie, Edmund William 77, 80, 118, 119 Censuses 1, 63, 73, 76, 77, 100, 137, 184, 195, 196, 278, 321 Cercle des Échecs, Paris 162, 285 Chapman, Horace Edward 326, 336 Chappell, W. T. 198, 199, 237, 244 Charing Cross (London railroad terminus) 64, 244 Charleton, John 248 Charousek, Rudolf Rezso 30, 333, 334 Cheshire, Horace Fabian 323 Chess Archaeology website (www.chessarch.com) 126 Chess at odds 3, 6, 10, 14, 18, 20, 26, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 58, 68, 78, 79, 80, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 100, 101, 104, 105, 112, 113, 117, 118, 120, 124, 126, 137, 147, 148, 151, 152, 153, 156, 157, 169, 170, 171, 172, 176, 177, 178, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200, 207, 208, 216, 230, 231, 232, 234, 235, 236, 237, 266, 267, 271, 274, 279, 282, 285, 347, 348, 357, 360, 371; see also Handicap tournaments; Odds of pawn and move 58, 82, 83, 84, 94, 113, 169, 200, 207, 208, 347; Odds of pawn and two moves 82, 124, 147, 149, 168, 176, 199, 200, 232, 236, 237, 284 Chess cafés 3, 64, 72, 100; see also Vienna sub-entry Chess clocks 127, 186, 251, 297, 306, 328 Chess clubs 1, 2, 3, 6, 20, 25, 42, 44, 46, 64, 65, 67, 69, 71, 80, 82, 84, 100, 107, 127, 128, 149, 180, 181, 185, 195, 203, 207, 230, 240, 243, 246, 258, 271, 277, 304, 322, 323, 354, 357, 365, 368 Chess for money see Playing for money Chess Life 58, 59, 60, 61, 62 Chess Player’s Annual and Club Directory 79 Chess Player’s Chronicle 8, 17, 22, 24, 28, 30, 42, 53, 56, 57, 58, 64, 68, 71, 79, 89, 96, 104, 152, 168, 173, 175, 177, 183, 184, 185, 192, 193, 194, 195, 207, 210, 211, 212, 215, 220, 230, 234, 240, 243, 249, 252, 266, 273, 274, 275, 276, 279, 281, 282, 283, 284, 285, 292, 302, 314 Chess Player’s Magazine 8, 36, 57, 71, 88, 90, 92, 96, 97, 100, 101, 103, 113, 114, 117, 121, 128, 135, 139 Chess Praxis see Staunton

408 The Chess World (magazine edited by Staunton) 8, 85, 110, 119, 120, 125, 128, 135, 139, 140, 164, 165, 386 ChessBase 5, 14, 28, 53, 54, 55, 84, 86, 88, 95, 97, 98, 106, 111, 115, 117, 128, 131, 132, 141, 143, 161, 169, 179, 188, 197, 199, 214, 233, 277, 287, 290, 293, 295, 308, 313, 315, 322, 327, 329, 333, 341, 349; Mega Database 5, 14, 23, 28, 54, 84, 95, 97, 333, 349, 350 chessgameswww 310, 313 The Chess-Monthly 8, 83, 96, 101, 103, 113, 125, 150, 177, 178, 179, 180, 224, 251, 253, 257, 260, 261, 264, 266, 268, 272, 273, 275, 278, 279, 281, 282, 283, 288, 292, 293, 294, 295, 297, 298, 299, 301, 302, 318, 345, 364, 365, 366, 367 Chicago 350 Chigorin, Mikhail Ivanovich 61, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 155, 176, 191, 205, 210, 286, 288, 290, 295, 298, 305, 306, 307, 311, 313, 316, 317, 320, 321, 323, 325, 327, 328, 329, 331, 334, 338, 340, 345, 346, 350, 363 Chilton, William 259 Church of England 76, 107, 235, 268 Churchill, Lord Randolph 182, 183, 184, 258, 271, 272, 392 City of London see London City of London Chess Club 1, 65, 171, 179– 181 passim, 198–200 passim, 205, 227, 228, 230, 235, 238, 240, 241, 242, 243–248 passim, 265, 275, 279, 307, 318, 323, 331, 348, 350, 358, 365, 369; correspondence match with Vienna 213–215 passim City of London Chess Magazine 213, 214, 225, 226, 228, 230, 233, 234, 235, 236, 237, 238, 239, 240, 241, 242, 243, 244, 245, 247, 248, 256, 264, 275, 350, 372 City Restaurant, Milk Street 181, 215 Clerc, Albert 284, 285 Cleveland Public Library, Ohio 27, 153, 161, 165, 194, 272, 277, 318, 327; see also White, John G. Coburn, Henry I. 213, 216 Cochrane, John 104, 113, 213, 215, 236, 251, 255, 264 Cohn, Wilhelm 333, 334, 339, 341, 344, 345 Cole, Henry Godfrey 198, 199 Cologne 3, 272, 278, 279, 333, 334, 336 Columns, chess 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 14, 23, 24, 25, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 35, 36, 41, 44, 53, 54, 57, 59, 73, 80, 82, 84, 89, 90, 93, 95, 96, 97, 100, 105, 110, 111, 112, 113, 118, 125, 126, 128, 133, 135, 137, 139, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 151, 157, 164, 166, 172, 173, 174, 179, 180, 184, 186, 203, 206, 216, 228, 229, 231, 232, 235, 236, 239, 240, 242, 244, 245, 247, 248, 255, 256, 258, 260, 261, 262, 263, 264, 265, 269, 270, 271, 273, 274, 278, 281, 282, 283, 284, 295, 297, 300, 301, 302, 304, 305, 317, 318, 319, 321, 331, 334, 337, 348, 349, 353, 354, 356, 357, 358, 359, 361, 362, 363, 364, 366, 368, 372 Computer chess programs 4, 5, 61, 92, 106, 135, 217, 294, 295, 296, 310, 316, 330, 338;

General Index (to page numbers) FinalGen endgame analysis software 136; Stockfish 56, 61, 62, 87, 91, 92, 99, 103, 104, 115, 131, 133, 134, 135, 159, 160, 199, 205, 235, 249, 290, 293, 297, 309, 316, 322, 329; Tablebases (endgame databases) 103, 130, 189, 191, 314 Connell, Alexander Richard Campbell 239, 389 Conquest, Stuart 212 Consultation games 44, 45, 46, 56, 83, 97, 99, 105, 121, 122, 165, 174, 183, 185, 187, 188, 194, 197, 205, 206, 207, 214, 216, 217, 219, 232, 233, 235, 237, 238, 241, 242, 243, 271, 274, 275, 279, 280, 282, 283, 285, 295, 332, 342, 347, 350 Cook, William 238, 248 Cordner, Edward James 108, 109 Corneth, Bert 7 Cornhill (thoroughfare and electoral ward in the City of London) 56, 65, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 74, 97, 99, 128, 195 Correspondence chess 62, 91, 103, 216, 218, 228, 322, 333, 335, 336 Cosmopolitan Club 71 Cotton, Sir Henry (MP) 305 Counties Chess Association 84, 151, 242, 306 Covent Garden (London’s West End theatres, markets) 6, 64, 65, 67, 72, 74, 125 Cremorne, Lord (Richard Dawson), 3rd baron, later 1st earl of Dartrey 65, 127, 268, 272, 274, 278, 311, 313; Cremorne Gardens 77, 382 Cricket 83, 107, 359, 361 Criterion Restaurant, Piccadilly 258, 266, 268, 271, 304, 316 Cronhelm, Edward 107, 108, 109 Crouch, Colin, and Kean Haines: Hastings 1895: The Centenary Book 324 Crystal Palace 83, 203, 206, 207 Csánk, Adolf 17, 214 Cubison, W. H. 268, 272, 306 Cunningham, James Gavin 13, 180, 181, 246 Czarnowski, Hieronim Ignacy 158, 159, 162 Daily News 25, 44, 45, 46, 51, 71, 77, 206, 250, 251, 326, 328 D’André, Baron Adolphe Emile Maxime 162, 165, 386 Daniels (Divan professional) 79, 381 Daniels, Emma (second wife of Samuel Ries) 76, 77, 381 Danish Gambit 103 Dartrey, 1st earl of see Cremorne, Lord Day, G. M. 68, 74, 88, 228, 259, 270, 289, 317 de la Bourdonnais, Louis Charles Mahé 17, 67, 76, 118, 256, 366, 380 de Rivière see Arnous de St. Bon see St. Bon de Soyres see Soyres Deacon, Frederic Horace 6, 36, 37, 38, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 53, 54, 56, 60, 84, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 104, 173, 347, 349

Default (forfeited games) 46, 47, 48, 49, 54, 144, 145, 219, 260, 344, 353 Demerara (Guyana) 75 Derby (English city) 258, 259, 311 The Derby (horse race at Epsom) 74, 311 Derbyshire (county) 258, 259, 265 Deschapelles, Alexandre-Louis-HonoréLebreton 17 Design and Work 271 Detmold, Charles 178 Deutsch, Alois 17, 18, 20, 29, 30, 376 Deutsche Schachzeitung 19, 21, 22, 24, 26, 28, 30, 31, 34, 37, 52, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 61, 62, 78, 85, 90, 94, 96, 98, 99, 102, 103, 126, 127, 128, 129, 131, 132, 133, 135, 156, 159, 160, 163, 172, 174, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194, 204, 205, 206, 208, 209, 210, 211, 212, 220, 225, 226, 236, 239, 266, 279, 290, 292, 293, 322, 326, 330, 333, 334 Deutsches Wochenschach 13 de Vere, Valentine John Cecil 96, 100, 104, 105, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 121, 122, 123, 149, 157, 158, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 173, 174, 175, 181, 186, 187, 189, 192, 193, 194, 198, 200, 203, 204, 204, 205, 207, 213, 216, 217, 220, 221, 223, 228, 237, 240, 265, 347, 348 Devidé (or De Vide), Charles 3, 36, 51, 52, 53, 55, 91, 93, 96, 97, 123, 167, 177, 178, 215, 275, 279, 290 Devinck, François-Jules 158 Di Felice, Gino (chess historian): Chess Results 1747–1900 48, 87, 153, 162, 164 Dickens, Charles (novelist) 63, 65, 68, 71, 270; Oliver Twist 263; Our Mutual Friend 63; The Pickwick Papers 65, 66, 68 Dickens, Charles, Jr.: Dickens’s Dictionary of London 71 Discart, Francesco 39, 226, 389 Discendo Discimus (chess club in The Hague) 217, 218, 227, 331 Disraeli, Benjamin 76 Dobell, Herbert E. 335, 336 Donaldson, the Rev. John (a.k.a. Delta) 22, 45, 51, 56 Donisthorpe, Wordsworth 288, 306, 394 Down, Henry F. 198, 199 Dublin, Ireland 7, 49, 100, 105, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 157, 184, 194, 240, 274, 275, 276, 277, 335, 347; Dublin Athenaeum 105, 107, 110; Dublin Chess Club (former City and County of Dublin Chess Club) 107, 108, 109, 194, 274, 275, 276, 335; Dublin Chess Congress (1865) 107, 108, 109 Dublin Evening Mail 107, 276 Dublin University, Trinity College 7, 274, 275 Dubois, Serafino 7, 36, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 54, 55, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 71, 84, 86, 97, 104, 176, 347, 378, 380 Dubuque, Iowa 237 Duffy, Patrick Thomas 6, 37, 105, 106, 125, 142, 144, 145, 150, 207, 221, 228, 243, 244, 247, 254, 255, 260, 261, 262, 263, 264, 267, 268, 279, 281, 311, 319, 353, 354, 355, 356, 358, 359, 366, 368, 391

General Index (to page numbers) Dufresne, Gustav (of Liverpool) 232 Dufresne, Jean 12, 232 Dundee 3, 109, 121, 123, 149, 151–156, 164, 187, 193, 203, 250, 257, 258, 273, 279, 347, 348; international tournament (1867) 165–171 passim Dundee Advertiser 151, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170 Dundee Courier (and Argus) 91, 93, 151, 152, 154, 155, 156, 167, 168, 169, 170 Dupré, C. E. A. 133, 217, 218, 219 Earnshaw, the Rev. Samuel 147, 148, 267, 349, 385 Eccles, J. 238, 241, 244, 255, 258 Edge, Frederick Milnes 53, 71, 74, 76, 380 Edinburgh 151, 235 Edinburgh Chess Club 64, 68, 76 Edition Olms (Zürich publisher) 3 Edwards, Prof. Rod (chess historian) 7, 148, 237 Ehn, Michael (chess historian) 13, 15, 16, 17, 18, 25, 26 Ellis, the Rev. J. H.: Chess Sparks 7, 86, 96, 112, 113, 158, 215, 234, 266 Elson, Jacob 99 Englisch, Berthold 285, 292, 293, 294, 296, 298, 305, 306, 307, 311, 312, 313, 316, 317, 363 Ensor, Albert W. 156 Epstein, Gustav Ritter von (early Steinitz opponent) 17, 20, 376 The Era 18, 22, 25, 35, 36, 41, 42, 43, 48, 49, 51, 53, 55, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 74, 78, 80, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 102, 103, 104, 105, 109, 112, 113, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 124, 125, 128, 130, 133, 134, 135, 139, 141, 152, 153, 154, 157, 158, 160, 162, 166, 167, 169, 170, 173, 174, 175, 176, 177, 178, 182, 185, 187, 188, 190, 192, 199, 200, 204, 206, 208, 210, 215, 218, 219, 220 Erskine, Henry 195 Eschwege, Hermann 178, 197, 260, 387 Evans, Captain William Davies 68, 79, 271, 274; Evans Gambit (other than numbered games, for which see Index of Openings— Traditional Names) 16, 28, 129, 201, 346 Evill, the Rev. William Ernest 235 Exeter Hall, Strand 76, 77, 125, 137 Falkbeer, Ernst Karl 16, 17, 18, 20, 25, 39, 41, 42, 46, 89, 90, 92, 96, 97, 146, 180; Falkbeer Counter-Gambit 108, 122, 123, 156, 161, 205 Falkbeer, Nicolaus 17, 18, 20, 23 Falkirk Herald 331 Fedden, Nelson 215, 228, 229, 389 Fenton, Richard Henry Falkland 71, 83, 198, 200, 204, 207, 208, 348 Ferguson, George 231, 232 Fiala, Vlastimil 333 The Field 1, 2, 3, 23, 24, 25, 27, 31, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 45, 46, 47, 48, 53, 79, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 90, 91, 92, 93, 115, 116, 118, 120, 126, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 134,

135, 136, 137, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 157, 166, 167, 173, 174, 175, 185, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200, 201, 204, 205, 206, 207, 213, 214, 215, 216, 220, 221, 223, 224, 225, 226, 228, 229, 230, 231, 234, 235, 236, 237, 239, 241, 242, 243, 247, 248, 250, 251, 252, 253, 255, 256, 257, 259, 260, 261, 264, 266, 267, 268, 271, 273, 275, 276, 278, 279, 281, 282, 284, 285, 286, 287, 288, 289, 290, 291, 292, 293, 294, 295, 296, 297, 298, 299, 300, 301, 302, 333, 337, 342, 344, 345, 350, 359, 361, 362, 364, 365, 366, 367, 372 The Figaro see London Figaro Finch Lane, Cornhill (London Chess Club final location) 69, 70, 71 Finch, John (Divan professional) 79 Fine, Reuben: Basic Chess Endings 60, 77, 202, 242 Fish, James 234 Fisher, Bernard William 212, 276, 393 Fleet Street 64, 72, 80, 180 Fleissig, Bernhard 4, 286, 289, 290, 292, 294, 298 Fleissig, Dr. Maximilian 4, 214, 221, 225, 285, 286 Flora Steinitz Golder see Steinitz, Flora Focazeno, Professor 285, 286 Fonblanque, Albany (journalist) 65, 72 Foot, Eliza Campbell 321 Forster, Richard (chess historian) 2, 180, 236, 243, 328, 333, 336 Forster, Robert T. (backer of Steinitz) 122, 126, 146, 149, 370, 384 Foster, Joseph (ed.), Alumni Oxonienses (see Bibliography) 184, 239 Foster, William Erskine 180, 194, 195, 201 France 39, 45, 69, 95, 126, 156, 187, 195, 272, 284 Franco-Prussian War 158, 186, 187, 311 Frankenstein, Edward Nathan 198 Frankfurt-am-Main 236, 331 Franklin, Selim 101 Franklin, W(illiam?) 101, 176, 348, 383 Franklin Chess Club (Philadelphia) 303 Fraser, Dr. James Cunningham 151, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170 Fraser, George Brunton 7, 27, 95, 150, 151, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, 164, 166, 167, 168, 169, 242, 250, 254, 257, 258, 264, 273, 300, 301, 347, 348, 385–386, 391 Freeborough, Edward 210 Freemasonry 76 Fremden-Blatt 18, 21 Frère, Thomas 320 Fritz, Alexander 333, 334 From, Martin Severin J. 103, 157, 160, 161; From’s Gambit 91, 177 Gaige, Jeremy: Chess Personalia 19 Gastineau, Edward Thomas 216 Gastineau, Henry Francis 215, 216, 217, 227, 228, 229, 237, 242, 244, 245, 246 Gelbfuhs, Oscar 20, 214, 223, 225 Gelo, James H. (ed.): Chess World Championships 131, 132, 139, 140, 143, 211

409 George and Vulture, Cornhill (London Chess Club venue) 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 380 German Chess League of Czechoslovakia 3 Germany 4, 36, 42, 74, 97, 112, 128, 149, 170, 171, 185, 195, 203, 207, 219, 227, 272, 277, 278, 285, 332 Gifford, H. W. B. 226, 227 Gillam, Anthony J. (Tony) 3, 166, 167, 168, 186, 187; Baden-Baden 1870 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 207 Gladstone, William Ewart 64, 371 Glasgow 153, 154, 166, 242, 243, 257, 258, 272 Glasgow Chess Club 151, 154, 249, 273, 274 Glasgow Citizen 151 Glasgow Herald 154 Glasgow Weekly Herald 242, 272, 273, 274 Gliddon, Arthur (of Gliddon’s Divan) 6, 72, 73, 74, 76 Gliddon’s Divan (later Kilpack’s), King-street, Covent Garden 6, 72, 73, 74, 76, 381 The Glowworm 122, 174, 175 Gocher, John 112 Golmayo y Zúpide, Celso 158, 159, 162, 165, 304, 320, 339 Goode’s Divan, Ludgate Hill 72, 73, 74, 79 Gordon Hotel 125, 127, 137, 140 Gordon, the Rev. Thomas (a.k.a. Gamma) 93 Göring, Dr. Carl Theodor 191 Gossip, George Hatfeild Dingley 104, 175, 176, 178, 181, 182, 198, 199, 204, 207, 215, 262, 348, 355, 357 Gottschall, Hermann von 45, 129, 130, 133, 220, 333 Gout 295, 299 Graham, P. Anderson (ed.): Mr. Blackburne’s Games at Chess 50, 95, 188, 220, 293 Grand Cigar Divan see Simpson’s Grand (unknown Steinitz opponent) see Gray Grant, C. M. 68 Gray, Robert Daniel Horace 194, 201, 202, 203 Graz, Austria 21, 350 Greece 285 Green, S. J. 120, 121, 124 Green, Valentine 6, 7, 35, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 52, 58, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 120, 137, 139, 178, 180, 181, 196, 347, 348 Green Dragon (Fleet Street tavern) 180, 181 Greenaway, F. E. 28 Greenwich 105 Grekov, N. I.: Sto Dvadtsat Izbrannikh Partiy M.I. Chigorina [120 Selected Games of M. I. Chigorin] 295 Grévy, François Paul Jules 272 Grimshaw, Walter 349, 354 Grondijs, Harrie (Henricus Hubertus) 306, 308, 403 Guest, Antony Alfred G. 79, 80, 324, 331, 334, 335, 344, 345, 346 Gümpel, Charles Godfrey 243, 244, 246, 251, 258, 266, 267, 268, 337, 390

410 Gunsberg, Isidor Arthur 157, 260, 267, 278, 279, 282, 285, 302, 321, 323, 324, 325, 326, 331, 369 Gunsberg, Miriam (née Clarke) 323 Gutman, Lev 214, 252 Haarlem, Netherlands 95, 331 Haas, Stefan: Das Schachturnier zu BadenBaden 1870 185, 186, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193 Haggard, H. D. 176, 348 The Hague 7, 217, 218, 219, 226, 227, 331 Haines, Kean see Crouch Halford, John 172, 243 Halifax, Yorkshire 107, 185 Hamburg 332 Hamel, Ludwig (also Ludovic, Louis) 92– 93, 166 Hamel, Sigismund 93, 166–169, 234 Hamilton, W. 7 Hamppe, Carl (Karl) 4, 16, 17, 18, 20, 21, 23, 24, 26, 27, 28, 30, 33, 226, 256, 376, 377 Hampton, Thomas Inglis 40, 65, 122, 258 Hampton, William J. 122 Handbuch des Schachspiels (Bilguers Handbuch) 26, 61, 104, 178, 248, 289, 352 Handicap tournaments 38, 41, 42, 48, 51, 82, 84, 105, 121, 122, 123, 124, 139, 146, 166, 169, 170, 174, 175, 176, 177, 194, 198, 200, 203, 204, 205, 206, 213, 242, 246, 348 Hannah, James Washington 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 51 Hannak, Jacques 2, 16, 20, 320 Hanover 74 Harding, Tim: British Chess Literature to 1914 173; Eminent Victorian Chess Players 1, 6, 326; Joseph Henry Blackburne 5, 6, 50, 87, 88, 89, 95, 178, 182, 188, 206, 220, 221, 224, 225, 241, 242, 251, 252, 253, 286, 293, 310, 316, 324, 339, 342 Harris, F. G. 260 Harrwitz, Daniel 16, 17, 21, 22, 23, 24, 33, 41, 52, 68, 79, 84, 86, 87, 89, 90, 91, 92, 96, 109, 147, 208, 236, 265, 271, 274, 349, 377 Harvey, Ernest L. 7 Hassan, Prince (of Egypt) 195 Hastings (international chess congress 1895) 1, 3, 5, 13, 166, 319, 321, 323–331 passim, 335, 336, 337, 345, 348 Hastings and St. Leonard’s Chess Club 334 Havana 158, 304, 319, 320 Haymmerle, Major Joseph Ritter von 17, 226 Healey, Edward 71, 92, 94, 100, 101, 347, 383 Healey, Frank 71, 92, 94, 100, 210, 246, 354, 383 Hearst, Eliot, and John Knott: Blindfold Chess 109 Heinrichsen, Arved 333 Heral, Josef 224, 225 Hereford 179, 183, 184, 274, 283, 299, 300 Hertford (England) 275 Herzfeld, Dr. 210, 294 Hewitt, (Sir) Thomas 122, 125, 126, 127, 146, 370 Heydebrand see Lasa

General Index (to page numbers) Hiber (alias) see MacDonnell Hilbert, John (chess historian) 325 Hilversum, Netherlands 216, 331 Hindle, Owen, and Bob Jones: The English Morphy? The Life and Games of Cecil de Vere 166 Hirsch, Alfred J. 273 Hirschfeld, Phillip 6, 96, 97, 178, 180, 196, 246, 255, 265, 267, 273, 278, 282, 306, 310 Hobart (pseud.), writer for B.C.M. 28 Hoffer, Leopold 14, 55, 96, 126, 157, 158, 180, 194, 213, 216, 224, 230, 238, 243, 244, 246, 251, 254, 255, 258, 260, 264, 267, 268, 271, 273, 278, 281, 282, 283, 284, 300, 301, 302, 319, 333, 334, 336, 337, 338, 340, 341, 342, 344, 345, 350, 359, 366, 368, 375 Holloway Prison, London 270 Holstein, J. 93, 94 Honneger, Oscar P. 209, 266 Hooper, David V. 3, 4, 40, 55, 87, 97, 99, 108, 127, 131, 132, 133, 142, 143, 161, 198, 199, 282, 295, 300, 301, 308, 327, 329, 333, 337, 341 Horwitz, Bernhard 39, 41, 68, 78, 79, 83, 96, 181, 207, 213, 216, 228, 236, 242, 246, 278, 368, 369 Household Chess Magazine 86, 102, 104 Howard, F. C. (Liverpool Chess Club) 322 Howard, W. G. (founder City of London Chess Club) 180, 244, 246 Hruby, Vincenz 288, 293, 294, 298, 363 Hübner, Robert 5, 87, 88, 89, 95, 121, 123, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136, 190, 383, 387 Huddersfield 185 Hull (Kingston-upon-Hull, Humberside) 171, 180 Hunt, Dr. J. W. 180, 181 Hunt, R. (Dublin amateur) 274, 276 Huntingdon (USA) 321 Huttley, E. J. 237 Huttmann, John Henry 67, 72, 74, 76, 380 Illegal move 57, 132, 161, 312 Illustrated London News 1, 22, 37, 38, 42, 49, 53, 54, 55, 56, 58, 80, 85, 86, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 100, 106, 108, 111, 113, 114, 116, 117, 125, 126, 127, 130, 131, 133, 135, 137, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147, 150, 151, 152, 153, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 181, 184, 185, 187, 189, 190, 206, 209, 210, 211, 216, 217, 220, 228, 230, 236, 237, 245, 246, 249, 260, 261, 311, 314, 322, 334, 349, 353, 354, 356 Illustrated News of the World 36, 77, 84, 85, 89, 93 Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News 8, 28, 106, 147, 230, 250, 256, 260, 262, 263, 267, 270, 276, 283, 297, 304, 308, 323, 330, 331, 345, 353, 355, 356, 358, 366, 367 Illustrated Weekly News 84, 85, 183 Illustrirte Zeitung (Leipzig) 4, 14, 19, 22, 23, 24, 33, 34, 36, 57, 93, 131, 219, 226, 349, 376 Imperial Chess Club, London 15, 271 India 41, 264, 267, 355

Ink Wars see Steinitz, William: ink wars … with Hoffer Inman, I. 185 Inner Temple (Inn of Court), London 184, 195, 235 International Chess Magazine 2, 6, 8, 23, 54, 56, 88, 93, 150, 206, 248, 266, 281, 294, 301, 306, 318, 319, 320, 349, 366, 369 Ipswich Journal 334 Ireland 7, 36, 75, 100, 105, 107, 109, 110, 111, 121, 239, 240, 274, 275, 276, 277, 297 Irish Chess Association 277 The Irish Times 107, 275, 276 Italy 18 Jacobs, Herbert Levi 260, 344, 345 Jaenisch, Carl Friedrich von 35, 202, 352 Jakoby, Dr. Samu 187 Janowski, Dawid Markelowicz 329, 331, 333, 337, 344, 345, 349 Jaques (chess set manufacturers) 21 Jeney, Eduard 17, 18, 20, 21, 24, 32 Jenkin, John 151, 242, 243 Jewish Chronicle 13, 14, 15, 260, 344, 345 John Lewis’s department store, Oxford Street (20th century chess venue) 181 Judaism 2, 13, 14, 15, 20, 65, 74, 76, 137 Judd, Max 285, 286, 330, 332 Kaiser (amateur) 156, 333 Kalendovský, Jan (chess historian) 375 Kamphuizen, W. 217, 218, 227 Karl (Chess history magazine) 25 Karpov, Anatoly 175 Kasparov, Garry 53, 54, 135, 192 Keates (London amateur) 198, 199, 200, 348 Keating, W. (Dundee amateur) 169, 348 Keeble, John 260 Kempson, S. G. 243 Kennedy, Captain Hugh Alexander 25, 40, 203, 206, 207, 358 Kennedy, R. (Glasgow amateur) 274 Kensington 35, 77, 241 Keynes, John Neville 235 Kidson, H. E. 232 Kieseritzky, Lionel Adalbert Bagration Felix 18, 22, 68, 78, 79, 109, 382 Kieseritzky Gambit 90, 91, 92, 99, 101, 103, 195, 201, 202, 210, 252, 287, 288, 332 Kilpack, Sarah Louisa (daughter of Thomas) 73, 381 Kilpack, Thomas 6, 7, 72, 73, 74, 77, 381 Kilpack's Divan see Gliddon’s Divan King Street, St. James’s (premises of St. George’s Chess Club, q.v.) 64, 72, 258, 264, 277 Kingstown (Dún Laoghaire), Ireland 274 King-street, Covent Garden (location of Gliddon’s Divan, q.v.) 72, 74 Klahre, Dr. Alfred C. 127 Klein (London Chess Club committee member) 65, 68 Klein, Dr. H. V. 127 Kling, Joseph (Josef) 40, 41, 56, 71, 72, 74, 79, 180, 246

General Index (to page numbers) Knorre, Victor 176, 367 Knott, John see Hearst Kockelkorn, Karl 278, 279 Kolisch, Ignaz 1, 6, 7, 16, 18, 22, 30, 35, 36, 39, 40, 52, 54, 55, 82, 83, 86, 89, 96, 147, 148, 149, 157, 158, 159, 160, 162, 164, 165, 171, 185, 186, 187, 189, 193, 194, 208, 213, 214, 219, 226, 236, 266, 269, 271, 285, 286, 289, 299, 311, 362, 364, 368, 377 Korchnoi, Viktor 210 Kotov, Alexander 95 Kramnik, Vladimir 346 Kunwald, Edward 242, 255 Kushelev-Bezborodko, Count Grigory 35, 65, 377 Lamb, F. E. 55, 155, 176 Land and Water 8, 103, 112, 113, 149, 179, 184, 186, 188, 192, 196, 198, 199, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208, 209, 210, 211, 212, 213, 220, 221, 227, 244, 248, 260, 262, 263, 264, 266, 267, 269, 310, 353, 354, 355, 356, 357, 358, 366 Landesmann, Heinrich 4, 25 Landsberger, Kurt (Steinitz biographer) 2, 13, 14, 15, 18, 19, 20, 21, 26, 89, 109, 137, 186, 213, 248, 281, 284, 303, 319, 320, 321, 331, 332, 334, 335, 391 Landseer, Charles (artist) 68 Lang (Viennese amateur player) 7, 17, 18, 29, 30 Lange, Dr. Max (1832–1899) 18, 29, 61, 97, 187, 351, 352; Max Lange Attack 28, 29, 277 Lasa, Tassilo von Heydebrand und von der 17, 104, 289, 351, 352 Lasker, Emanuel 2, 3, 13, 26, 27, 37, 113, 128, 135, 214, 258, 321, 322, 323, 324, 326, 327, 328, 329, 330, 331, 332, 337, 338, 342, 343, 344, 345, 346, 395 Laws, Benjamin Glover 65, 269 Laws of chess 40, 46, 126, 185, 186, 255, 394 Lawson (or Lowson, City of London Chess Club member) 198, 348, 388 Lee, Francis Joseph 336, 339, 340, 344, 345 Leeds 171, 185, 355, 356 Lees, R. 230, 231 Leffmann, Karl 285 Lehner, Hermann 8, 19, 20, 219, 220, 226, 286, 294; Oesterreichische Lesehalle 286, 291, 292, 297; Lehner, Hermann, and C. Schwede: Der erste Wiener internationale Schachcongress im Jahre 1873 8, 219–225 passim Leicester 74, 244, 258, 353 Leiden, Netherlands 331 Leipzig 4, 14, 21, 23, 79, 131, 194, 331, 367 Lenhof (Vienna Chess Club member) 19, 27 Leopold, Prince see Albany, Duke of Lerch, Dr. Joseph 4, 18 Lessing. Dr. Gotthold Ephraim (1729–1781) 352 Lewis, Frederic Hyman 272, 306, 319 Lewis, William 53, 67 Lillywhite, Bryant: London Coffee Houses 65, 67, 68, 69, 71, 73

Lincoln 184 Lindehn, Dr. Hans Anton Westesson 103 Linder, Isaak and Vladimir Linder (chess co-authors) 5, 21, 29, 178, 227 Lindsay, D. (Dundee amateur) 155 Lindsay, W. A. (Hon. Sec. of the St. George’s Club, ca. 1875–1877) 258, 272 Linton, Edward Francis 183, 184, 194, 195 Lipke, Paul 333 Lipnitsky, Isaac 176 Lissowski, Tomasz 187 Liverpool 7, 41, 144, 167, 180, 181, 212, 215, 230, 231, 232, 233, 234, 235, 239, 241, 267, 303, 304, 306, 321, 322, 323, 335, 336 Liverpool Chess Club 7, 41, 167, 230, 232, 321, 322, 323, 335 Liverpool Mercury 322, 323 Liverpool Street railroad terminus, London 181 Liverpool Weekly Albion 212, 230, 231, 232, 233, 234, 235, 239, 241 Locock, C. B. 175 Loman, Rudolf Johannes 323 London (geography and history) 63, 69, 105, 171, 228 London Chess Club (1807–1870) 6, 22, 25, 36, 37, 38, 39, 41, 42, 43, 45, 47, 49, 50, 53, 56, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64–71 passim, 84, 86, 87, 88, 90, 91, 92, 96, 97, 98, 99, 105, 112, 113, 120, 122, 126, 127, 128, 129, 131, 133, 134, 137, 167, 171, 175, 177, 178, 179; see also City of London Chess Club The London Figaro 16, 24, 255, 256, 258, 260, 261, 262, 263, 264, 265, 266, 267, 268, 269, 270, 271, 272, 274, 278, 279, 281, 282, 283, 284, 353, 354, 356, 358, 365, 366, 402 London Gazette 72 London international chess congress (1862) 35–55 passim London international chess congress (1883) 1, 6, 208, 255, 302, 303, 304–317 passim, 347; see also Minchin, James Innes, and Vizayanagaram tournament London international chess congress (1899) 1, 336–345 passim, 347 London Metropolitan Archives 8, 180, 278 Long, Thomas 107, 109, 110, 111, 247 Lopez Esnaola, Benito: Ajedrez a la Ciega 156, 201 Lord, F. W. 198, 246, 247, 336 Lord, John 147, 156, 175 Lovelock, J. F. 306 Löwe, Eduard (Old Lowe) 18, 78, 79, 149, 175, 271 Löwenthal, John Jacob (Johann Jakob) 3, 4, 16, 17, 25, 33, 35, 36, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 59, 60, 61, 64, 79, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 93, 94, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 103, 105, 107, 108, 109, 110, 112, 113, 114, 116, 120, 122, 128, 135, 139, 149, 164, 173, 174, 175, 176, 180, 181, 186, 192, 196, 203, 206, 207, 208, 210, 213, 216, 227, 236, 242, 243, 246, 251, 255, 256, 258, 261, 265, 351

411 Loyd, Sam 158, 161, 165, 314 Lyttelton, George William (fourth Baron Lyttelton; educational reformer, chess player) 25, 65, 120, 203, 207, 213 Maas, Arthur J. 228 MacDonnell, the Rev. George Alcock (penname Mars) 6, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 58, 78, 84, 87, 107, 108, 109, 110, 118, 121, 123, 125, 126, 147, 166, 167, 168, 169, 174, 175, 203, 204, 205, 207, 225, 228, 242, 243, 246, 247, 248, 260, 261, 262, 263, 264, 265, 267, 276, 278, 281, 282, 283, 284, 297, 301, 303, 304, 305, 318, 319, 331, 348, 349, 351, 357, 358, 370, 371, 372; Chess Life-Pictures 131, 141; The Knights and Kings of Chess 209, 225, 284, 302, 371; see also Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News Mackay, Wallis (artist) 131, 255 Mackenzie, George Henry 41, 87, 97, 107, 144, 171, 264, 265, 272, 285, 287, 288, 293, 297, 298, 301, 303, 304, 305, 307, 309, 311, 316, 317, 360, 361, 362, 363 Maczuski, Ladislas 109, 160 Madan, Falconer 183, 201, 240, 387 Magdeburg 331, 335 Malcolm, E. H. 72, 74, 76 Malthusian (population growth) 373 Malvern, Worcestershire 212 Manchester 35, 47, 83, 87, 88, 94, 105, 166, 172, 184, 231, 233, 234, 236, 260, 284, 306 Manchester Chess Club 233, 234, 236, 306 Manhattan Chess Club 304 Manley, Jonathan 7, 238, 240, 389 Manning, Julius 198, 246, 252 Marco, Georg 329, 331 Marks, Edward 198 Maróczy, Géza 323, 345 Marriage 76, 77, 151, 203, 258; to deceased wife’s sister (prohibition) 72 Marshall, Frank 210, 242, 344 Martin, Major William 197, 204, 207, 246, 251 Martinez, Dion M. 303 Mason, James 71, 88, 265, 269, 272, 273, 277, 278, 281, 288, 289, 291, 292, 293, 296, 297, 298, 300, 301, 302, 303, 305, 306, 307, 308, 311, 312, 315, 316, 317, 325, 326, 331, 337, 338, 341, 342, 344, 345, 359, 360, 361, 362, 363, 364, 367 Mavor, James 100, 273 Mayerhofer, Carl (1828–1913, singer) 17, 20 McClelland, W. 233 McDonnell, Alexander 67, 75, 76, 84, 167, 213, 380 Medley, George Webb 40, 46, 56, 69, 79, 97, 104, 120, 122, 173, 174 Medley, John 79 Meitner, Dr. Philipp 17, 19, 27, 29, 52, 187, 214, 219, 221, 222, 225, 257, 258, 285, 290, 292, 294, 295, 298, 317, 367 Melbourne 369 Mental Health 269, 271 Mephisto (chess automaton) 267, 268, 337

412 Meredith, Samuel Readhead 201, 202, 239 Merton College, Oxford 183 Methodist church 337 Metropolitan Chess Club, London 331 Metropolitan Railway (first London subway) 63, 64 Mieses, Jacques 327, 331, 337 Mieses, S. 91, 104 Minchin, (Major) Charles Cherry 197, 204, 207 Minchin, James Innes 120, 121, 122, 197, 204, 207, 255, 258, 264, 265, 268, 273, 278, 283, 304, 306, 307, 308, 309, 310, 311, 312, 313, 314, 315, 316, 317, 318, 319; The Games played in the London International Chess Tournament 1883 307–316 passim Minckwitz, Johannes von 187, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194 Mingrelia, Prince Andrey Davidovich Dadian of 162, 386 Mitcheson, William 105 Mocatta, Abraham 121, 123, 124, 241, 323, 348 Mohishunder Bonnerjee 104, 383 Monck, William Henry Stanley 274, 275, 276, 277 Mongredien, Augustus 22, 26, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 53, 68, 79, 86, 96, 97, 174, 347, 348 Mongredien, Augustus, Jr. 121, 177, 348 Monico’s restaurant (Café Monico), London 268, 273, 341 Monte Carlo 322 Montreal 104 Morel, Camille 271, 272 Morgan, William Wray, Jr. 180 Moriau, Camille 241 Morning Advertiser 56, 69, 72, 77, 206 Morning Chronicle 72, 75 Morning Post 44, 67, 76, 77, 80, 107, 119, 175, 204, 319, 324, 328, 331, 334, 335, 336, 337, 342, 344 Morphy, Ernest 102, 113, 255 Morphy (a.k.a. Murphy), John (of Dublin and Brooklyn) 274, 276, 277 Morphy, Paul 2, 14, 21, 22, 23, 28, 33, 35, 40, 41, 53, 54, 71, 74, 79, 93, 95, 98, 104, 109, 112, 113, 127, 136, 137, 148, 150, 157, 158, 162, 183, 236, 243, 250, 256, 265, 271, 274, 287, 304, 305, 346, 352, 361, 365, 366, 367, 371, 372, 380, 386 Mortimer, James 95, 157, 255, 261, 269, 270, 271, 284, 305, 307, 308, 311, 313, 315, 317, 338, 393 Mucklow, J. R. 79 Müller, Karsten 7, 115, 130, 136, 141, 142, 163, 313, 314 Mundell, W. H. A. 198 Murphy, Dr. Joseph B. 148 Murray, Archibald Keir 154, 249 Murray, Harold J. R. (chess historian) 78, 382 Murton, Charles 216, 244 Muzio Gambit 10, 17, 57, 112, 238, 264, 360 Myers, W. C. 185

General Index (to page numbers) Napoleon, Louis (Napoleon III, emperor of France 1851–1870) 69, 186, 187, 255 Nash, William 198 Naumann, Frank Gustavus 336, 344 Negele, Dr. Michael 2 Neishtadt, Yakov Isaevich 4, 26, 27, 29, 30, 53, 55, 93, 94, 95, 108, 129, 135, 162, 167, 192, 210, 211, 222, 251, 314, 326 Netherlands 7, 74, 126, 202, 216, 218, 226, 331 Neue Berliner Schachzeitung 8, 53, 57, 94, 96, 99, 101, 108, 111, 116, 120, 123, 124, 126, 128, 129, 130, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136, 149, 158, 162, 163, 168, 169, 175, 178, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 205, 208, 211 Neue Freie Presse 25 Neue Illustrirte Zeitung 20 Neumann, Gustav Richard Ludwig 6, 7, 37, 52, 53, 57, 58, 59, 91, 94, 98, 99, 101, 102, 108, 111, 117, 126, 128, 145, 149, 157, 160, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 187, 189, 190, 193, 196, 236, 279, 351, 352 Neustadtl, Dr. Hermann 4, 13, 15, 375 New College, Oxford 202 New Orleans 35, 303, 304, 320, 346 New Orleans Times-Democrat 318, 367 New York 6, 13, 28, 31, 54, 69, 95, 144, 162, 210, 258, 266, 304, 305, 311, 319, 320, 321, 322, 323, 331, 332, 334, 335, 345, 349, 350, 364, 367 New York Albion 142, 144 New York Herald 367 New York Tribune 321 Newcastle-upon-Tyne 120, 248 Newcastle Daily Journal 105, 112 Newcastle Journal 142 Newnes, Sir George 336 Nicholson, Edward Williams Byron 195, 201 Nicholson, Joseph Shield 235 Niessen, Thomas 7, 14, 15, 33, 93, 348, 375 Noa, Josef 286, 287, 293, 298, 305, 309, 311, 315, 316, 317 Nordisk Skaktidende 19, 103 Norfolk 184 Norwich 105, 269 Norwich and Norfolk Chess Club 259 Nottingham 166, 234 Nottingham and Midland Counties Daily Express 234 Novoe Vremya (Chigorin column) 128 Nowotny, Anton 17, 18, 19, 27 Nowotny, Friedrich 19, 22, 24, 27, 28, 33 Nuremberg 15, 305, 306, 331, 332 Oesterreichische Schachzeitung 19, 220, 286, 291, 292, 401 Old Change Chess Club, London 238, 243, 264 Ormond, R. 51, 175 Osborne 201 Österreichische Schachrundschau 3, 4, 17, 20, 21, 26, 28, 29, 30, 405 Owen, the Rev. John 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45,

46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 65, 87, 171, 204, 278, 305; Owen’s Defense 164, 199 Oxford 6, 7, 41, 71, 97, 101, 109, 127, 137, 171, 179, 181, 182, 183, 184, 185, 194, 195, 199, 200, 201, 202, 203, 215, 216, 235, 238, 239, 240, 241, 254, 258, 264, 268, 269, 271, 275, 278, 282, 283, 300, 365, 370 Oxford Companion to Chess (eds. Hooper and Whyld) 82, 97, 127, 137, 269, 282, 300 Oxford Review 183, 184, 194, 195, 201, 202 Oxford Times 183, 200 Oxford University Chess Club 179, 182, 183, 184, 194, 199, 200, 238, 239, 240, 365 Pagni, Carlo 322 Pall Mall Gazette 307, 343, 344 Paris 16, 22, 30, 35, 41, 44, 45, 52, 67, 86, 95, 103, 149, 170, 171, 193, 195, 208, 214, 215, 226, 236, 255, 258, 264, 267, 268, 271, 282, 284, 285, 314, 331, 345, 347, 363, 367, 368, 369 Paris international tournament (1867) 3, 157–165 passim, 185, 189 Paris international tournament (1878) 226, 265, 266 Parker, J. 274 Parnell, Charles Stewart 239 Parnell, Victor Alexander Lionel Dawson 239 Parratt, (Sir) Walter 239 Parry, J. E. 71 Paulsen, Louis 5, 6, 7, 35, 40, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 52, 54, 55, 56, 58, 84, 97, 109, 112, 147, 148, 149, 157, 158, 171, 187, 192, 193, 210, 214, 219, 220, 222, 225, 226, 265, 269, 271, 281, 285, 291, 292, 293, 296, 297, 298, 299, 305, 342, 363, 364 Paulsen, Wilfried 97 Peake, Alfred S. 275, 276 Peckham, London 217, 228, 237, 242 Pennsylvania 144, 321 Perigal, George 68, 69 Perpetual check 45, 93, 277, 287, 341 Perth (Scotland) 166 Petroff (Petrov), Alexander Dmitrievich 35, 95; Petroff Defense 37, 156, 239, 327, 348 Philadelphia 93, 94, 96, 99, 113, 256, 279, 303, 304 Philidor Defense 30, 31, 59, 108, 123, 142, 325 Philidor, François-André Danican 59, 109, 110, 256, 346, 366; Philidor Defense 30, 31, 108, 123, 142, 325 Philidorian Chess Rooms 36, 64, 71, 74 Phillips, F. E. 259 Piccadilly 39, 64, 121, 174, 304 Pickard, Sid 4, 18, 19, 28, 29, 30, 38, 51, 55, 56, 57, 58, 60, 86, 87, 94, 96, 97, 98, 103, 106, 108, 112, 113, 114, 123, 124, 126, 130, 131, 132, 136, 143, 153, 155, 161, 167, 173, 178, 179, 190, 197, 199, 204, 211, 214, 215, 220, 221, 231, 233, 235, 237, 239, 241, 253, 266, 290, 291, 294, 295, 298, 299, 308, 322, 327, 328, 329, 333, 337, 341, 344, 349, 404

General Index (to page numbers) Piercy (City of London Chess Club member) 246 Pilhal, Eduard 17, 18, 21, 24, 28, 33 Pillsbury, Harry Nelson 13, 325, 327, 329, 330, 331, 333, 338, 342, 345 Pim, J. B. 274, 275 Pitschel, Ernst 16, 17, 20, 21, 24, 26 Pitschel, Karl (or Carl) 104, 219, 220, 225, 286 Playing for money 17, 18, 20, 32, 36, 48, 58, 82, 83, 84, 97, 126, 139, 146, 171, 237, 250, 260, 279, 282, 285, 298, 354, 358 Plunkett, Hon. Horace Curzon (MP) 239, 240, 249, 251, 258, 274, 276, 335 Poland 126, 305 Polerio, Giulio Cesare 129 Pollock, William Henry Krause 320, 325, 331 Polytechnic Institute, London 64 Polytechnic Institute, Vienna 15, 17, 19, 20, 22 Ponziani Opening 154, 168, 177, 182, 201, 248, 249, 340 Pope, Nick 126, 128, 406 Popiel, Ignatz von 333 Popper-Lynkeus, Josef 15, 16, 20, 226 Porges, Jules 230 Porges, Moritz 15, 23 Portugal 74 Postal chess see Correspondence chess Potter, William Norwood 171, 180, 181, 195, 198, 199, 208, 213, 214, 216, 217, 225, 227, 228, 229, 230, 237, 238, 241, 242, 243, 244, 245, 246, 247, 248, 249, 251, 254, 256, 261, 263, 264, 265, 267, 268, 269, 278, 300, 301, 305, 317, 319, 348, 353, 357, 358, 362, 363, 364, 366, 367 Prague 2, 4, 13, 14, 15, 16, 19, 83, 127, 196, 226, 271, 278 Pratt, A. T. Camden (ed.): People of the Period 13, 14, 21, 22 Press Association (news agency) 324 Preti, Jean-Louis (La Stratégie editor) 165 Pritchett, Craig 5, 26, 27, 55, 90, 91, 104, 130, 134, 162, 176, 192, 193, 204, 210, 214, 222, 251, 253, 290, 293, 316 Probate 77, 80 Proctor, Richard Anthony 269 Professionalism 82, 145, 256, 261, 264, 302, 353 Prussia 75, 126, 186, 256, 265 Puller, Arthur Giles 204, 205 Puller, Charles Giles 175, 204 Purssell, Alfred (proprietor of Purssell’s) 69, 74 Purssell’s Restaurant (City chess venue) 6, 37, 64, 69, 70, 71, 83, 92, 95, 100, 137, 171, 182, 196, 265, 369, 380 Putney Chess Club, London 77 Quarterly for Chess History 8, 405 Quarterly Review 82 Rabbeth, J. E. 243, 244, 245, 246, 306 Railroads 41, 63, 64, 105, 126, 144, 166, 181, 186, 194, 196, 228

Ranken, the Rev. Charles Edward 104, 122, 182, 183, 184, 194, 195, 200, 201, 210, 273, 314, 355 Redcar, Yorkshire 135 Reeves, Henry A. 259 Reichhelm, Gustavus 93, 94, 113 Reiner, Dr. 17, 21, 29, 30 Renette, Hans (chess historian) 7, 37, 45, 47, 54, 97, 139, 140, 143, 146, 163, 167, 168, 170, 173, 178, 179, 181, 190, 191, 196, 222, 223, 225, 272, 292, 297, 369, 385, 390 Repetition, draw by 52, 188, 298, 355 Réti, Richard: Masters of the Chess Board 55, 86, 94, 95, 314 Reuters press agency 323 Richmond 339 Ries (or Reiss), Bernhard (or Bernard, Simpson’s Divan founder) 74, 75, 77, 381 Ries, Samuel 6, 35, 38, 72, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 85, 94, 118, 119, 381 Rippin, J. H. 236 Rivière see Arnous de Rivière Roberts, John Drew (and relatives) 274, 275, 276, 277 Robertson, Colonel James A. 166, 167, 168, 169 Robey, James 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 52, 54, 112 Rock (amateur player) 33, 93 Rome 42, 104 Rose, R. N.: The Field, 1853–1953, A Centenary Volume 230, 300 Rosenbaum, Anthony 243, 244, 245, 250, 258, 306, 311 Rosenthal, Samuel 157, 158, 163, 165, 186, 188, 192, 193, 195, 219, 220, 222, 224, 225, 226, 265, 271, 272, 283, 284, 290, 291, 299, 305, 306, 310, 311, 312, 313, 315, 316, 317 Rossendale, Lancashire 147 Rostov-on-Don 323, 331 Rothschild, Baron Albert (of Vienna) 226, 286 Rotterdam 133, 217, 331, 353 Rousseau, Eugene 160, 162 Royal Exchange (City of London) 195 Royal Wine Shades, Leicester Square, London 74, 381 Rules see Laws of chess Rumler (Viennese amateur) 4, 18, 26 Russell, Charles (Lord Russell of Killowen) 126 Russell, J. Walter 336 Russia 4, 35, 36, 95, 105, 128, 131, 171, 185, 187, 215, 295, 331, 332, 346 Rynd, James Alexander Porterfield 109, 110, 111, 194, 383 Saburov (Sabouroff), Petr Aleksandrovich 39, 65 Saint-Amant, Pierre Charles Fournier de 17, 68 St. Bon, Chevalier de 46, 56, 378 St. George’s Chess Club, London 38, 39, 41, 42, 43, 64, 65, 112, 120, 121, 122, 126, 127, 129, 130, 133, 134, 135, 156, 173, 174, 196,

413 197, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208, 209, 210, 211, 212, 242, 255, 257, 258, 264, 265, 266, 268, 271, 273, 277, 278, 283, 304, 316, 318, 365, 367, 368 St. James’s Chess Club, London 39, 42, 43, 49, 64, 89, 96, 105, 196 St. James’s Hall, Piccadilly 39, 44, 46, 56, 64, 121, 122, 174, 175, 264, 378 St. Louis, Missouri 320 St. Petersburg 27, 35, 61, 176, 255, 328, 330, 331 Salisbury 334 Salmon, the Rev. Dr. George 274, 276, 393 Salter, the Rev. David Mede 95 Salutation Inn, Newgate Street 181 Salvio Gambit 129, 130, 133, 134, 155, 178, 179, 210, 267, 290, 294 Salvioli, Carlo 165, 177 Sandeman, Patrick 156 Sandglasses see Time limit Sarratt, Jacob 64 Saunders’s Newsletter (Dublin newspaper) 107, 109 Savoy Hotel, London 7, 75, 78, 80, 81, 382 Schallopp, Emil 323, 326, 327, 329, 330, 334 Schiffers, Emanuel Stepanovich 61, 323, 325, 327, 331, 334 Schlechter, Carl 323, 324, 331, 332, 334, 337, 340, 341, 345 Schlemm, Heinrich Philip 17, 21, 23, 349 Schlösser, F. 93 Scholten, Dr. H. J. G. M. 217, 331, 389 Schüll, Ludolph 232 Schwarz, Adolf 214, 223, 225, 292, 296, 298, 305, 367 Schwede, Constantin see Lehner, Hermann Scotch Game or Gambit 30, 49, 56, 61, 62, 93, 158, 160, 192, 214, 233, 236, 241, 251, 252, 253, 294, 295, 297, 349, 350 Scotland 5, 22, 45, 56, 100, 148, 150, 151, 165, 166, 169, 170, 235, 242, 257, 258, 273, 316 The Scotsman 151, 169, 324 Scott, Patrick 155, 169, 348 Scott, Susan 7, 81, 382 Scott, Sir Walter 263 Séguin, James 318, 367, 368 Sellman, Alexander 292, 303, 305, 310, 311, 314, 317 Sergeant, Philip Walsingham: A Century of British Chess 14, 41, 69, 96, 97, 100, 115, 150, 173, 180, 181, 186, 240, 244, 245, 255, 258, 300, 302 Seymour 241 Shaw, John: The King’s Gambit 52, 91, 99, 104 Sheffield Athenaeum Chess Club 101 Sheffield (and Rotherham) Independent 101 Shields Daily News 105, 145 Shilling hunters (shilling sharks; coffeehouse professionals) 76, 78, 79, 82, 84, 170, 181, 206, 259, 261, 262, 353, 354, 355, 356, 357, 368 Showalter, Jackson Whipps 277, 330, 334, 338, 341, 345 Shumov, Ilia Stepanovich 35, 171, 172

414 Sich, A. 121, 196 Sime, David 156 Simons, L. 79 Simpson’s Divan (originally Grand Cigar Divan), The Strand 6, 7, 18, 35, 36, 57, 64, 72, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 85, 94, 95, 96, 101, 104, 106, 112, 118, 119, 120, 125, 147, 156, 171, 172, 173, 176, 177, 178, 196, 202, 203, 213, 216, 228, 230, 249, 254, 260, 263, 267, 279, 283, 284, 304, 307, 319, 323, 334, 349, 355, 359; see also Ries, Bernhard and Ries, Samuel Simpson, John 77, 80, 382 Simpson, Thomas Bartlett 77, 80, 382 Simultaneous exhibitions 8, 35, 44, 82, 95, 107, 109, 110, 111, 135, 153, 155, 156, 175, 179, 183, 184, 185, 194, 195, 197, 201, 202, 206, 207, 210, 213, 215, 217, 218, 219, 226, 227, 228, 230, 231, 232, 233, 235, 236, 238, 239, 240, 241, 242, 243, 247, 249, 259, 260, 266, 269, 274, 275, 276, 277, 283, 331, 332, 334, 335, 344, 349, 350, 356, 357, 364 Sissa (Dutch chess magazine) 98, 217, 218, 219, 226, 227, 389 Skinner, Leonard, and Robert Verhoeven: Alexander Alekhine’s Chess Games 1902– 1946 350 Skipworth, the Rev. Arthur Bolland 173, 185, 195, 305, 309, 311, 312, 317, 355 Slous (or Selous), Frederick Lokes 67 Smith, Alan (chess historian) 7, 234 Smith, Axel: Pump Up Your Rating 27, 60, 209, 322, 326; see also Tikkanen Smith, Charles French 79 Smith, J. Sidney 336 Smith, Thomas (of Hereford) 299 Smith, Thomas (problem composer) 125, 175 Smoking 24, 72, 75, 76, 80, 82, 118, 119, 120, 261, 262, 327, 356, 365 Soffe, George D. 275 Solomons, S. 51 Soltis, Andrew 2 Sonntagsblatt (Berlin paper) 279 Soul, Cornelius 233 South Norwood, London 171 Southampton 332 Southport, Lancashire 284 Soyres, the Rev. John de 216, 217, 235, 236 Spens, Walter Cook (Sheriff substitute for Lanarkshire) 166, 167, 168, 169 Le Sphinx (chess magazine) 131, 160 Spielmann, Rudolf 20 Spinrad, Jeremy P. 255, 269, 391 The Sporting Gazette 36, 84, 86, 87, 89, 90, 91, 97, 98, 99, 402 The Sportsman 175, 238, 244, 247, 266, 402 Staffordshire 258 Stalemate 111, 191, 289 The Standard 25, 44, 51, 65, 175, 250, 251, 252, 254, 302, 312, 333, 334, 336, 338, 339 Stanley, Charles Henry 160, 274 Starie, J. H. see Philidorian Chess Rooms Staudigl, Josef (singer) 17, 68 Staunton, Howard 1, 17, 22, 25, 37, 38, 41, 46, 54, 55, 65, 68, 73, 74, 78, 79, 80, 82,

General Index (to page numbers) 86, 90, 92, 94, 95, 101, 104, 105, 106, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 117, 118, 119, 120, 125, 126, 127, 128, 131, 132, 134, 135, 136, 137, 139, 141, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147, 148, 149, 150, 152, 153, 157, 158, 160, 164, 166, 182, 201, 209, 216, 217, 229, 235, 236, 262, 268, 271, 284, 319, 351, 352, 358, 365, 366, 370, 378; Chess Praxis 46, 104, 127, 190; Staunton chessmen 21; Staunton Gambit 190; see also Illustrated London News and The Chess World Steel, Robert 267, 287, 306, 317 Steinitz, Caroline Elizabeth (née Golder) (partner) 137, 138, 139, 196, 228, 268, 269, 278, 321 Steinitz, William (and see next entry): citizenship and passports 1, 15, 226, 320, 332; education 13, 14, 15, 19–21; family and relationships 13, 14, 137, 165, 196, 319, 321; forms of his name 1, 13, 15; resident in Vienna 15–26 passim; journalism for Constitutionellen Oesterreichische Zeitung 19; health problems 19, 20, 257; hydrotherapy cures 284, 332; ink wars (quarrels with Hoffer in print) 257, 281, 282, 319, 352, 367–369 passim; Steinitz Gambit 27, 167, 192, 193, 197, 204, 205, 218, 227, 232, 241, 276, 307, 321, 335, 368; first visit to America 303, 304; The Modern Chess Instructor 6, 16, 38, 55, 59, 61, 146, 151, 168, 176, 177, 222, 224, 240, 251, 310, 321, 322, 323, 369; see also International Chess Magazine Steinitz, William: photographs and sketches 14, 129, 216, 219, 226, 254, 263, 272, 288, 325, 334, 343, 371 Steinitz Golder, Flora (daughter) 6, 100, 137, 138, 139, 165, 170, 195, 196, 268, 269, 273, 278, 319, 320, 368, 384 Steinkühler, Alexander 233, 234 Stern, Adolf 187, 188, 189, 192, 193 Stewart, H. C. 121 Stock Exchange 20, 65, 128 Stockholm 103 Stockport, Cheshire 284 Stourza (or Sturdza), Prince Mikhail (1795– 1884) 185, 387 Strakonice (Strakonitz), Bohemia 14, 15, 19 The Strand (London street) 35, 64, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 119, 125, 213, 228, 254, 258, 267, 271, 284, 323, 330, 353 La Stratégie 158, 159, 160, 165, 186, 192 Strauss, Rudolf 18, 29, 34 Strode, N. J. W. 127, 278 Styria (Austria) 300, 350, 362 Suhle, Carl Friedrich Berthold 5, 28, 37, 38, 41, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 57, 58, 59, 91, 98, 99, 101, 102, 196, 236, 351, 352 Sussex (county) 243, 274, 323 Swan, John 180 Switzerland 186 Swyer, Dr. S. 198, 199, 348 Szén, József 4, 16, 17, 76

Tartu (Dorpat), Estonia 331 Taylor, John Odin Howard 5, 53, 86, 91, 93, 95, 105, 106, 112, 126, 178, 207, 228, 269, 315 Tedesco see Todesco Teichmann, Richard 323, 328, 331, 336, 338, 339, 343, 345 Telegraf, Illustrierte Familienblätter (Vienna journal) 4, 23, 24, 26, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 348 Telegraph matches 44, 45, 105, 107, 206, 328 Telephone match 202 Tennant 85 Testimonial 105, 277, 356 Thackeray, William Makepeace: Vanity Fair 79 Therkatz, Wilhelm 97 Thompson, Fred 121, 184, 258, 259, 265 Thomson, R? (City of London Chess Club member) 198, 199, 200, 348 Thorold, Edmund 101, 121, 207, 355 De Tijd (Dutch newspaper) 226 Tikkanen, Kari, and Axel Smith: The Woodpecker Method 27, 209, 322, 326 Time limit (time trouble) 84, 90, 91, 127, 166, 170, 188, 203, 209, 223, 241, 242, 250, 251, 282, 285, 288, 290, 295, 296, 306, 312, 333, 370, 394; see also Chess clocks The Times [London] 323, 341 Tinsley, Samuel 323, 329, 331, 336, 338, 341, 344, 345 Todesco, Eduard Freiherr von 26 Tokenhouse Yard (City of London, employed Bird and Duffy) 37, 262, 356 Tomlinson, Charles 74, 79, 82, 83, 380 Torquay 240 Townsend, John 65, 67, 68 Tracey, Campbell 239, 389 Trafalgar Square 64 Transactions of the British Chess Association for 1866 and 1867 3, 121, 122, 123, 124, 128, 129, 132, 166, 167, 168, 169; for 1868 and 1869 174, 175, 176, 177, 215 Traxler, Karel 15 Trelawny, Sir John Salusbury 121 Trenchard, Herbert William 336 Trinity College Dublin see Dublin University Troicoupian Chess Club, London 304 Trollope, Anthony: The Warden 79 Turf, Field and Farm 6, 28, 246, 305, 306, 307, 308, 310, 311, 312, 317, 318, 364, 367, 368 Turgenev, Ivan Sergeyevich 185, 187 Tuthill, C. 274, 275, 276 Twigg, S. 111

Tarrasch, Siegbert 13, 292, 325, 329, 330, 331, 333, 336

Van der Haak, B. 219, 227 Van der Meden 112

United States of America 1, 2, 3, 6, 11, 15, 40, 63, 64, 97, 137, 144, 145, 160, 162, 171, 181, 186, 240, 256, 262, 277, 279, 280, 281, 285, 292, 300, 303, 304, 305, 317, 318, 319, 320, 321, 331, 332, 334, 335, 345, 350, 358, 360, 364, 373 Urcan, Olimpiu 325 Urusov, Sergey Semenovich 35, 39, 40

General Index (to page numbers) Vansittart, Bexley 93 Vázquez, Andrés Clemente 320 Vehm-gericht 261, 262, 353 Vere see de Vere Vergani, Beniamino 323, 324, 331, 344 Verhoeven, Robert see Skinner Victoria, Queen 64, 68, 107, 304, 311, 316 Vienna 1, 2, 4, 6, 8, 13, 14, 35, 36, 41, 44, 63, 84, 89, 93, 110, 146, 185, 187, 198, 208, 210, 216, 217, 218, 226, 227, 228, 229, 230, 247, 250, 257, 258, 260, 275, 279, 280, 281, 282, 283, 284, 285, 286, 287, 288, 289, 290, 291, 292, 293, 294, 295, 296, 297, 298, 299, 300, 301, 302, 303, 304, 311, 312, 317, 332, 333, 334, 335, 336, 340, 341, 342, 347, 359, 360, 361, 362, 363, 366, 367; chess cafés 4, 17, 18, 20, 21, 23, 24, 349, 375; Steinitz’s residence 15–26 passim; Steinitz’s games in Vienna 26–34 passim Vienna Chess Club (Wiener Schachgesellschaft) 16, 17, 18, 21, 23, 24, 25, 28, 33, 34, 36, 41, 181, 214, 226, 285, 286, 333, 349; free tournaments 21, 24; correspondence match with London 213–215 passim Vienna Game (Vienna Gambit or Vienna Opening) 16, 17, 110, 275, 333 (for numbered games see Opening Indexes) Vienna international tournament (1873) 3, 19, 87, 186, 214, 219–225 passim, 265, 266, 306, 348 Vienna international tournament (1882) 3, 146, 210, 222, 281, 285–300 passim, 304, 307, 317, 348 Vines, Dr. Henry Jackal Kendrick 249 Vitzthum von Eckstädt, (Count) Conrad Woldemar 104 Vizayanagaram tournament (London 1883) 305, 306, 314 von Bardeleben see Bardeleben von der Lasa see Lasa Von Gottschall see Gottschall Vyse, W. Elliott 198, 237, 238, 244 Wagner, Heinrich 16, 226 Wainwright, George Edward 336 Walbrodt, Carl August 329, 330, 331, 345 Wales 63, 274 Walker, George 34, 37, 44, 53, 56, 64, 67, 68, 69, 71, 74, 79, 82, 120, 125, 128, 131, 136, 149, 175 Walker, James Manders 183, 184, 238, 239 Walker, Robert Cecil James 369 Wallace, Captain (Dublin player) 274, 275, 276 Walsh, J. (Yorkshire player) 185 Walsh, John Henry (The Field editor) 185, 228, 231, 247, 261, 284, 300, 301, 359 Walsh, Peter W.: The Story of Dundee Chess Club 153 Ward-Higgs, William 336, 337

Ware, Preston 286, 288, 289, 294, 298, 363 Watson (City of London Club member) 198, 199, 348 Watson, Miss 335 Watt, J. A. 335 Watts, John J. 180, 198, 244, 245, 306 Watts, William Henry 237, 238 Wayte, the Rev. William 46, 65, 103, 104, 121, 135, 213, 255, 258, 266, 268, 278, 306, 355 The Weekly Dispatch 174, 175, 176, 177 Weekly Irish Times 275 Weekly Northern Whig (Belfast newspaper) 85 Weiss, Miksa (Max) 290, 295, 298, 361 Weldon, Georgina (née Thomas, also Treherne) 269, 270, 271, 392 Wellington, Samuel 233, 322 Wemmers, Carl 279 Werner, Maximilian Edward 21 West End (of London) 39, 56, 64, 65, 67, 71, 72, 125, 137, 243, 244, 262, 304, 356 West-End Chess Club, London 230, 244, 245, 246, 250, 251, 252, 253, 254, 255, 256, 257, 258, 262, 267, 273, 390, 391 Western Daily Press 215 Westminster Chess Club: of the 1830s 65, 67, 76; of the 1860s/1870s 105, 118, 124, 125, 126, 128, 130, 133, 134, 135, 137, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 146, 147, 148, 149, 150, 170, 172, 180, 204, 209, 210, 211, 212, 213, 243, 301, 304, 306, 319, 365 The Westminster [Chess Club] Papers 2, 8, 65, 66, 68, 89, 96, 97, 109, 156, 163, 172, 173, 174, 177, 178, 179, 182, 183, 185, 187, 188, 189, 190, 192, 193, 197, 204, 208, 209, 210, 211, 212, 213, 215, 219, 220, 221, 222, 223, 224, 228, 230, 236, 237, 242, 243, 247, 248, 252, 254, 260, 261, 262, 263, 266, 268, 284, 335, 353, 354, 355, 356, 359, 366 Whist 125, 181, 215 White, John Griswold 151, 168, 250, 254, 264, 273, 277; John G. White collection at Cleveland Public Library, Ohio 7, 151, 153, 161, 165, 194, 272, 277, 318, 327 Whitefoord, Benjamin 201, 202 Whyld, Ken 2, 4, 40, 74, 76, 77, 78, 80, 127, 281, 282, 300, 381 Wiener Allgemeine Zeitung 82, 186, 288 Wiener Schachgesellschaft see Vienna Chess Club Wiener Schachzeitung 17, 19, 41, 333 Wiener Wochenblatt 4 Wiener Zeitung 18 Wiesbaden 236, 272, 363 Wijgerden, Cor van 293, 296, 298 Wild, Charles Thompson 183, 184, 201, 202 Wilkes, G. 15 Williams, Elijah 79 Williams, Gareth 80

415 Willmers, Rudolf Heinrich (1821–1878, musician) 17, 18, 21 Wilson, Dr. William John (of Clay Cross, Yorkshire) 51, 84, 85, 240 Wilson, James Wilson Rimington, chess patron and collector 51, 86, 88 Wilson, Thomas Bright 306; see also Chess clocks Winawer, Szymon 149, 160, 161, 162, 165, 186, 189, 190, 193, 265, 266, 285, 290, 291, 292, 293, 295, 296, 298, 299, 305, 306, 307, 311, 312, 313, 317, 347, 360, 361, 362 Wine Shades see Royal Wine Shades Winter, Edward: Chess Notes 15, 262, 301, 349, 350, 356, 369, 372 Wisker, John 146, 171, 175, 177, 180, 181, 195, 203, 204, 205, 207, 213, 228, 238, 243, 244, 245, 246, 247, 248, 251, 265, 266, 348, 388 Withdrawal (from tournaments) 46, 47, 54, 187, 192, 207, 260, 336, 337, 338 Wittek, Alexander 289, 294, 298, 363 Womersley, Frederick William 335 Wood, J. M., Jr. 231, 232 Woodgate, W. B. 283, 306, 394 World Championship 13, 26, 136, 141, 229, 317, 346, 350 World War I 2, 11, 64, 72, 82 Wormald, Robert Bownas 6, 80, 86, 91, 99, 150, 213, 230, 246, 247, 248, 256, 272, 319, 350, 351, 352, 370, 372 Wright, Samuel 233 www.measuringworth.com 11, 406 Wyvill, Marmaduke (MP) 25, 65, 79, 104 Yiddish 15 York 144, 304, 305, 331, 332; Yorkshire 51, 105, 107, 135; West Yorkshire Chess Association 22, 185 Zavatarelli, Fabrizio (chess historian) 6, 7, 35, 39, 40, 45, 47, 53, 54, 61, 97, 158, 159, 160, 163, 164, 165, 167, 168, 178, 187, 190, 191, 193, 196, 213, 214, 377 Zugzwang 50 Zukertort, Johannes 88, 109, 133, 136, 163, 178, 181, 187, 190, 191, 193, 198, 203, 204, 205, 207, 208, 209, 210, 211, 212, 213, 215, 228, 234, 236, 237, 238, 240, 241, 242, 243, 244, 245, 246, 250, 251, 252, 254, 255, 256, 257, 258, 259, 260, 261, 264, 265, 266, 267, 268, 269, 271, 272, 273, 274, 275, 277, 278, 281, 282, 283, 284, 287, 288, 293, 294, 295, 298, 300, 301, 302, 303, 304, 305, 306, 307, 309, 311, 314, 315, 316, 317, 318, 319, 320, 347, 348, 349, 351, 353, 354, 357, 360, 362, 363, 364, 365, 366, 367, 388 Der Zwischen-Akt (Vienna journal) 21, 23, 349 Zytogorski, Adolphus (aka John Hanstein) 266