The Legacy of Howard Staunton

Howard Staunton was the man who put London on the global chess map. A virtuoso of many different careers, Staunton was a coruscating example of the Victorian polymath. Shakespearean actor, world chess champion, author of many chess books and columns, eponymous name giver of the Staunton Chess pieces, Shakespearean scholar, organiser of the first ever international chess tournament, London 1851, and chronicler of the Great Public Schools of England.Staunton might have said, quoting Richard III from the play of that name by his favourite author, “I can change shape with Proteus to advantages.”

Also quoting Shakespeare’s  Julius Caesar, it might be said of Staunton: why man, he doth bestride the narrow world like a colossus. And indeed from 1843 to 1851 Staunton was regarded as “The Champion”. His fame was based on three convincing match victories against the leading European masters of the day: the Frenchman Pierre Charles Fournier de Saint Amant; the Berliner, Bernhard Horwitz; and the Silesian, Daniel Harrwitz. This triad of Mano-a-Mano matches formed the template for most future world title contests until the present day.

Twenty five years ago a group of enthusiasts formed the Howard Staunton Society (HSS) to honour his memory and erect a suitable headstone in Kensal Green cemetery. Earlier this month a delegation from the HSS visited the hallowed turf, polished the gravestone, laid a floral tribute and captured the occasion with some photos (see above). The delegation consisted of myself, President of the Society, Brian Clivaz of L’Escargot (where a celebratory memorial lunch – with courses themed by chess openings – was subsequently held), Barry Martin, Secretary of the HSS, plus Committee members Adam and Aiden Black.

As a result of Staunton’s pioneering achievements, London has developed a reputation as an epicentre of world chess activity; perhaps the only city in the world in which every World Champion and proto World Champion, as well as their immediate challengers, has played serious chess. Furthermore, London can lay claim to having both inaugurated and staged no fewer than sixteen separate competitions, all of which established the dominant player of the day, and which are regarded either as official or virtual World Title contests. Only Moscow, with thirteen World Championships, and New York, with five, can rival this record.

Yet none of Labourdonnais, Morphy, Staunton or Fischer ever played a serious game in Moscow (though Fischer engaged in some unrecorded blitz games in Moscow Central Chess Club during a brief visit), while Tarrasch, Anderssen and Philidor entirely avoided America. On the other hand, all of the above have graced London with their presence, Morphy himself playing, according to ChessBase, no fewer than four matches in London, against Löwenthal, Boden, Owen and Barnes. And Staunton was the magnet which drew the meteoric American to our shores.

Nevertheless, as we examine London’s sparkling record of chess achievement, it becomes apparent that the glory days divide into two very distinct phases. From the 1790s to the 1890s London played host to all the champions, many of whom, such as the Frenchman Philidor, the Austrian Steinitz and the German Lasker, even chose London as their residence. It is no accident, therefore, that the world’s most famous game of chess, known as “The Immortal”, arose like a pearl from the London chess scene. Howard Staunton himself twice defended his right to the title in London, and ensured that London remained the Mecca of the chess world through his writing skills, organisational energy and entrepreneurial acumen.  Meanwhile, Simpson’s in the Strand contributed significantly to this movement by providing the grand headquarters of chess.

London’s 19th century love affair with chess went out with a bang in 1899, when the greatest tournament held anywhere up to that time was staged there. But this was to be London’s swansong. Over the next 46 years only one significant match, a mere six Grandmaster tournaments and (a slight ray of hope) the inaugural chess Olympiad were to be held in London. And worse was to come; between 1947 and 1972, a period of 25 years, no single Grandmaster level tournament was staged in London at all.

How can this be explained, particularly in the light of the then explosion of chess activity over the subsequent quarter century? This resulted in four World Title matches, a British Title challenge, the USSR – World  match, six World Championship candidates’ matches and a host of events luring the world’s elite to the capital, much as in the heyday of the 19th century.

The answer is that chess provided an alarmingly accurate barometer of the financial state of the nation. Chess tournaments famously produce great beauty, intellectual depth, fabulous publicity and profound artistry, but very little hard revenue. They, therefore, flourish in environments where there is wealth to spare.  In 1899, Britain might have been thought to be at the zenith of her imperial might and wealth. Yet the nation’s riches were about to be sucked into the running sore of the Boer War, whilst the nation’s attention was soon to be diverted by trade, armaments and ultimately, overt military conflict with the Kaiser’s Germany in the First World War. The capital of the Empire was already in economic decline by 1900, a decline defied at sporadic intervals (1922/1927/1932) before the second great deluge burst over the Empire, World War Two. From the frequency and status of chess competitions it appears that London, as a world financial centre, only began to emerge from the depredations of two World Wars as late as 1973. But then the recovery became rapid and indeed dramatic – only being halted by the declaration of a new war against international terrorism -in the aftermath of 9/11.

In spite of terrorism, Covid and now the unwarranted Russian aggression against Ukraine, the Staunton Anniversary will, we hope, be seen as the symbol of a Phoenix-like resurrection of elite chess. Once again, inspired by Staunton, mental gladiators will, we trust, be invited to  compete in the Colosseum of the Mind, against the backdrop of London — that great city, whose origins stretch back two millennia to the days of its own spiritual mentor and multi-racial exemplar, the Roman Empire. Staunton himself used the classical Roman model for ideal education – mens sana in corpore sano – in his book The Great Schools of England.

Staunton believed, and wrote, that chess was the appropriate recreation for men of genius, and in spite of the counter-attractions of reactive PlayStation games and the threats posed by computer analysis, that diagnosis remains true to the present day.

A positive sign has been the recent individual gold medal by David Howell for England (sadly for this previously exceptional team, finishing a mediocre 14th overall) in the Chennai Olympiad, or international team tournament; won astoundingly by Uzbekistan (of which, more in a future column). Howell thus joins that elite group of English Olympiad individual gold medal winners, the first of whom was Bill Hartston at Siegen 1970, followed by John Nunn at Thessaloniki 1984 and Nigel Short in Dubai 1986.

Howell won gold on board three with 7.5/8 and a performance rating of 2898, the highest of anyone during the entire Olympiad. Perhaps his best and most aggressive form was reserved for his eighth round clash with Lennert Lenaerts of Belgium.

(For completeness sake, one should also praise the outstanding Gold Medal for 1st reserve board won by Leighton Williams for Wales at the Moscow Olympiad of 1994.)

It is clear that David Howell’s talents are being squandered as a commentator, to which his recent career has strongly tended, and it is time for him to focus on competitive chess. After a hiatus of 170 years, there is still time to hope for the second English world champion after Staunton.

Just after writing these words, I learn that Howell has been invited to compete in the October elite Meltwater tournament, switching from his customary role as commentator.

I would also like to quote Shakespeare’s words engraved upon stone at Staunton’s tomb. They refer to the English commander Talbot, who frequently defeated the French in the wars of Henry V and VI; and by extension to Staunton’s epic win versus French champion St Amant.

Is Staunton slain, the Frenchmen’s only scourge,
Your kingdom’s terror and black Nemesis?
O, were mine eyeballs into bullets turn’d,
That I in rage might shoot them at your faces!
O, that I could but call this dead to life!
It were enough to fright the realm of France:
Were but his picture left amongst you here,
It would amaze the proudest of you all.
Give me his body, that I may bear him hence
And give him burial as beseems his worth.

(From Henry VI Part One by William Shakespeare, slightly rephrased by the Staunton Society.)

Raymond Keene ’ s latest book “ Fifty Shades of Ray: Chess in the year of the Coronavirus”, containing some of his best pieces from TheArticle, is now available from  Blackwell ’ s .

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