New Stories about

Old Chess Players

Jeremy P. Spinrad



The Telegraph, the Velocipede, and the Bristol Sloth
Part Two
Synopsis: Part one of this article discussed several 19th-century players noted for
either very fast or very slow play at the chessboard. By far the strongest of them,
and the one best known to posterity, is Elijah Williams of Bristol, England, who
finished third in the first international chess tournament, London 1851, in the
process winning a match against the great Howard Staunton. The article now
resumes with how Williams chess career went after that historic tournament.
After the London tournament, Williams was challenged to revenge matches by the two
famous players he defeated. Lwenthal won a close match +7 5 =4. Staunton, we are
often told, was so confident that he spotted Williams three points in a first-to-seven match,
which meant that Williams won the match by a score of +7 6 =3, although he actually
won only four games over the board to Stauntons six.
Williams had some other results in 1851 that show him to be a strong player. He beat two
strong second-rank players, Medley and Mongrdien, by 4-0 scores, with, I believe, one
draw in each.
Williams best later result was probably his score of +5 3 =9 against Horwitz in 1852.
However, he was beaten badly by Harrwitz in two matches, +0 7 =3 in 1852 and +2 7
=3 in 1853. Lwenthals book of the London 1862 tournament mentions that Williams
won 3 of 5 against James Kipping in 1853, and an article on Williams in the Chess
Players Chronicle of 1856 says that he beat Valentine Green by the odd game giving P+1
odds in 1854. Williams died of cholera in 1854, without significant savings; his son was
placed in an orphan home.
The record above is that of a strong, though not quite champion-class player. I would
argue that he has at least as strong a record as Horwitz, who is remembered as a major
figure in mid-19th century chess. Indeed, Dr. Arpad Elo puts Williams five-year peak
rating at 2450, to Horwitzs 2420. Still, this is not quite at the level of, for example,
Lwenthal (2510) or Harrwitz (2520), who at their best could be considered comparable to
any active player.

Howard Staunton
However, the record above is not what Williams is remembered for. Instead, what has
stuck in the chess worlds collective memory are the comments directed at him by
Staunton, starting in the book of the London 1851 tournament, and continuing nearly
every time Staunton thought to bring up Williams name in print.
The negative quotes start with the comments on the Mucklow-Williams games. A footnote
on the start of the match states:
In some respects these players were well paired, not for equality of force, indeed,
Mr. Williams being by far the stronger, but because each, in his degree, exhibits the
same want of depth and inventive power in his combinations, and the same
tiresome prolixity in maneuvering his men. It need hardly be said that the games,
from first to last, are remarkable only for their unvarying and unexampled
dullness.
A comment on the second, seventy-seven move game is telling:
I am not aware whether the time consumed in this game has been recorded. It must
have been portentous, as about midway in the original copy I find a significant
notation by the unfortunate Secretary, Both players almost sleep!
The comments become stronger in the games between Williams and Staunton himself.
When Williams wins the first game, there is no significant commentary. For game two, in
which Staunton played Black, there is a long complaint:
In this and the next two games Black appears to have roused himself into
something like action; the stimulus, however, was evidently insufficient to sustain
him long against the insupportable tedium of his adversarys play. There are
positions, every one knows, occurring occasionally in a game, where even the
clearest and farthest-seeing head requires a long time to unravel all the intricacies
of the maze. In such cases deliberation is a duty, and none, except a very
unreasonable opponent, would object to it; but when a player, upon system,
consumes hours over moves when minutes would suffice, and depends, not upon
out-manoeuvering, but out-sitting his antagonist, patience ceases to be a virtue, and
one cannot help expressing deep regret that there is not some legal or moral force
which may be brought to bear upon the offender, so that, in default of accelerating
his pace, he should be held disentitled to a victory gained by such a strategy.
He seems to indicate that this was a problem in games two through four, all won by
Staunton; a comment on game four repeats the accusation and says that this affected the
later games. In the comment at the end of the match, he says that only Stauntons physical
suffering could explain the result, against a player he could ordinarily defeat at P+2 odds.
The comments continue in his report on the tournament (page 114-121 of the Olms
edition). He first says that Williams beat Lwenthal only through a couple of badly played
games, and that Lwenthal played well below his regular strength. The games with
Mucklow are called completely uninteresting. He again blames his loss to Williams on
illness, and says that at least against Anderssen he lost to a recognized master, rather than
a P+2 player as in the last round. He then claims that the only reason that the post-
tournament match with Lwenthal was close was Williams strategy of protracting each
game, and blames the same strategy for his inability to beat Williams in their return match.
Thus because of Staunton, Williams is remembered as the slowest player who ever lived;
indeed, like The Telegraph and The Bicycle, he has his own soubriquet: the Bristol
Sloth. Furthermore, Stanton felt that Williams was not just slow, but deliberately slow,
with the aim of irritating his opponent, and in the case of his games with Staunton, taking
advantage of Stauntons poor health. This justified other swipes in Stauntons mind; for
example, in discussing the Bristol Chess Club, he says that Williams departure for
London took away but strength in chess (Century of British Chess, page 84) despite the
fact that the club itself clearly remembered Williams fondly as its founder and leader.
From this distance in time, it is hard to judge the truth of Stauntons comments, but they
certainly have stuck. Many modern chess writers seem to have bought into Stauntons line
entirely. Thus, I have seen a comment on a game between Williams and Buckle, that
Buckle could have written an entire chapter of his history book while waiting for one of
Williams moves. Even over 150 years later, Williams derogatory nickname was to
become the title of an instrumental by famed guitarist Leo Kottke.
I do not take Stauntons word as the gospel truth; in this and others of his famous feuds he
often made over-the-top statements. However, since he controlled the main archival chess
journal, we are left seeing only Stauntons side of the dispute. We know that there was
another side, since Staunton occasionally blasts an argument made by Williams
supporters, but do not see the other side presented objectively.
The whole matter became a fight between the Divan crowd, which supported Williams,
and the St. George crowd, headed by Staunton. I should note that Staunton was also
furious at the London club, though over different issues; someday I would love to write a
book that could capture the intense rivalries between these and other chess-playing groups.
Both the Divan and London club are attacked at length in an article The Chess
Tournament and its Enemies, Chess Players Chronicle, 1852, pages 214-218. After
attacking the London club, the writer goes on to deal with the Simple Simons of the
Divan. He alludes to some serious allegations against Staunton, attributing them to the
fact that this most dishonourable man (meaning Williams) was getting his simple and
confiding friend to print these charges. It would be nice to see both sides of this great
feud!
Similarly, there is a dispute about the conditions for the post-tournament match between
Williams and Staunton. After sniping at the reasons for Williams to be given a three game
head start, they say that even with these odds, the impartial Lwenthal would support him
in saying that Williams did not play fairly, doing his best to:
wear out his invalid host. Upon some occasions he did not appear until mid-day
had passed, in order that the game might be protracted to midnight. At others he did
not appear at all, but sent the most frivolous excuses.
But Williams story seems to be that the three games were in exchange for Stauntons
desire to have the match played at Stauntons country home; showing up late for some
games does not strike me as giving Williams more advantage than Staunton might get
from not needing to travel.
Staunton comments on a game between Williams and Horwitz in the Chess Players
Chronicle of 1852 (page 79), that:
As this match is being played at the London Chess Club, the members of which
are well aware of the excitable temperament of Mr. Horwitz, and the serious
disadvantage under which he must labour in a contest with any opponent who seeks
to irritate or exhaust him by protracting the games unnecessarily, it is to be hoped
that some provision has been made to guard against such a contingency.
However, the Chess Player (put out by Kling and Horwitz himself) of 1852, page 150,
shows that time was not an issue in the match:
The match between Mr. Williams and Mr. Horwitz has terminated in favour of the
former. Seventeen games were played, of which Mr. Williams won five, and Mr.
Horwitz three: nine drawn games. Not any of the games exceeded five hours; most
of them lasted but two.
I note that a letter from Anderssen about the chess tournament of 1851 notes in passing
that one of the games between Staunton and Horwitz lasted 11 hours, so apparently
Williams was not moving more slowly than Staunton did against Horwitz.

Johann Lwenthal
Williams played many other matches. Surely, if Williams was so slow, there would be
stories from them? Actually, there is one, from the match with Lwenthal, coming from
the book Chess Life-Pictures:
He became absorbed in a deep combination and utterly unconscious of everything
else. He pored over the board for about thirty minutes, and having made his move,
continued to gaze abstractedly upon the board; at last, raising his eyes, he perceived
that the room, which had been crowded with spectators, was empty, and that even
his opponent was not visible to the naked eye.
Eventually, after searching the club, he finds his opponent lying on his back in a bed.
However, the man thus reclining was Williams, waiting for Lwenthal to move!
There is evidence that many people took Williams side in the Staunton dispute.
Tomlinson, in an article on the Divan, recalls how players would wait eagerly for
Stauntons column in the Illustrated London News, and they were indignant when the
column referred disparagingly to a certain player named Williams. Tomlinson also
recalls Williams as a pleasant, gentlemanly antagonist, seemingly at odds with Stauntons
attack on his character. I should note that Kieseritzkys report on the tournament (part of
which is given in the Olms edition of the tournament book) is generally complimentary
toward Staunton, but he says that the one valid criticism is the extraordinary slowness of
his games!
There are at least three plausible explanations for Stauntons fury at the slowness of
Williams play:
The first would be that Williams was simply an abnormally slow player. This is the
explanation that seems to be taken as fact now, and there is some evidence that it was
accepted as truth quite early, at least outside of London. Actually, it is a little unclear as to
whether some comments are referring to the speed of Williams play or his chess style,
which was also criticized by Staunton. A letter from the editor of the Hartford Times about
Lwenthals death is printed in the Quarterly for Chess History, vol. 9, pages 337-341; it
comments that Williams was gifted with the art of tediousness.
A second explanation is that Williams was in fact no slower than many other players of
the time, and that Staunton was just grasping for alibi. Staunton was definitely accused of
a tendency to make excuses, even ridiculous ones, after losing. The Germans were irritated
by his excuses for losing to Anderssen, as is well documented in the Olms edition of the
London 1851 tournament book, where mocking references abound. One Staunton excuse
was outrageous enough to be given in G.A. MacDonnells Chess Life-Pictures section
Excuses for Losing Games (page 193), even though MacDonnell was generally well
disposed towards Staunton. Explaining to an admirer why he had lost his match at P+2
odds to Lowe, Staunton said You see, sir, the odds were too little; I could not play my
best. I ought to have given him the knight. Thus, portraying normal play as unusually
slow does not seem completely out of character.
I prefer a third explanation, though there is no solid evidence for it. Williams may not
have been a slow player in general, could have been slow in his match with Staunton, and
possibly with Lwenthal as well, especially if Lwenthal was viewed as Stauntons
representative. Slowness in these particular matches could have a number of explanations.
Initially, there is the importance of the match, which could have made Williams more
deliberate, especially as the match came to its decisive games. There is the possibility that
this was a conscious attempt to use Stauntons poor health against him, as Staunton seems
to imply, which strikes me as unlikely. However, the most reasonable explanation may be
that he simply did not like Staunton, especially after Stauntons first blasts on the matter
(which probably appeared in his newspaper columns), and made a point of not being
bullied into moving faster just to please his irritable and irritating opponent. A typical
bloody-minded Englishman would react in exactly this way to criticism, and it would
explain both Stauntons anger and the fact that Williams was not at all slow in his match
with Horwitz which occurred around the same time.
Let us also note that Williams win over Staunton does not seem at all inconsistent with
other results around the time period; it is Stauntons claim that he should be giving odds to
Williams that seems unbelievable. Williams played several long series of games against
prominent masters, scoring +2 against Horwitz over seventeen games and 1 against
Lwenthal over nineteen games (the tournament plus the match). Clearly, Williams was
playing chess at the master level at this time, and his 1 against Staunton over the twenty-
one games they played overall seems consistent with this. Staunton simply was not
playing at championship level in any of his tournament matches, and we do not need
excuses about time to explain Williams win.
The game below is taken from Tartakower & DuMonts 500 Games of Master Chess, page
46. Williams win comes from an interesting, and I believe instructive, position. After
Blacks eighteenth move, there are a great many choices for White; pieces seem to be
hanging everywhere! This makes Wayte, like many players, analyze each possibility at too
shallow a level. He no doubt calculated the obvious recaptures after his nineteenth move,
but Williams does not make the automatic moves, and after his nineteenth move suddenly
has an overwhelming position. This failure to look for the unexpected in the projected
move sequence once a move is planned is often what lets the stronger player win in
tactical situations, in my experience. The most practical moral is that you should always
take some time to think before making automatic recaptures; we tend to overlook other
options that can decide the game.
Wayte-Williams, circa 1853: 1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.Bc4 Nf6 4.Ng5 d5 5.exd5 Na5 6.Bb5+
c6 7.dxc6 bxc6 8.Qf3 Qb6 9.Ba4 Bg4 10.Qg3 Bc5
11.0-0 11.h3 Bh5 12.Qxe5+ is not as appetizing
as it might look; after 12Kf8 13.0-0 Re8, Black
has a tremendous developmental advantage for
his sacrificed pawns. 110-0 12.Bb3 h6 13.Nf3
Nxb3 14.axb3 e4 15.Ne5 Be2 16.Re1 16.Nc4
was worth a thought. 16Nh5 17.Nd7 Qd8 18.
Qe5
18Qxd7 An interesting alternative is 18Bxf2
+!? 19.Kxf2 Qh4+ 20.Kxe2 21.Qxf4 (pretty
much forced; if 21.Kf1 Qxh2 22.Qxe4 Rae8 and
White has to give up his queen anyway, since if
23.Qf3 Qh1+ mates) 21Qxf4 22.Nxf8 Rxf8,
and while White has a rook and two minor pieces
for the queen, he is so underdeveloped, and his
kingside so vulnerable, that he will have trouble
surviving. 19.Rxe2?? Correct is 19.Qxc5, when
after 19Qg4 20.h3 Qg6 21.Kh2 (not 21.Rxe2??
Nf4+) 21Nf4 22.Rg1, White is OK for the
time being. Now Black has a decisive attack.

19Qg4! 20.Rxe4 If 20.Re1 Nf4 21.g3 Bxf2+!!
forces mate in short order. 20Nf4 21.g3 Bd6! 0-
1, since if 22.Qxd6 Qd1+, or 22.f3 Qh3 etc.
As these games show, the Bristol Sloth was not
always the interminable plodder, wearing down
his opponent over twelve-plus hours and fifty-
plus moves. We conclude with another Williams
brevity, against one of the top players of his time.
Williams-Lwenthal, London 1851: 1.e4 c5 2.f4 a6 3.Nf3 e6 4.Be2 Nc6 5.0-0 f6 6.d3
Bd6 7.f5 Nge7 8.Nh4 Qc7 9.g3 Nd8? 10.Bh5+
10Kf8 Forced; if 10g6 11.fxg6 etc., or 10
Nf7 11.Bxf7+ Kxf7 12.Qh5+ Kf8 13.fxe6 dxe6
14.Rxg6+ gxf6 15.Bh6+ Kg8 16.Qe8#. 11.fxe6
dxe6 12.Rxf6+! Kg8 If 12.gxf6 13.Bh6+ Kg8 14.
Qg4+ and mate shortly. 13.Rf2 g6 14.Qf3 Nec6
15.Bg4 Qg7 16.Bg5 Qxb2??
16Be5 was necessary. Now Williams wraps it
up quickly. 17.Bh6! There is no good answer to
the threat of 18.Qf8+. 17Qd4+ 18.Kg2 Qxf2+
A spite check, apparently. 19.Qxf2 1-0

[ChessCafe Home Page] [Book Review] [Columnists]
[Endgame Study] [Skittles Room] [Archives]
[Links] [Online Bookstore] [About ChessCafe] [Contact Us]
Copyright 2007 Jeremy P. Spinrad and CyberCafes, LLC. All Rights Reserved.
"ChessCafe.com" is a registered trademark of Russell Enterprises, Inc.