Frank Marshall, Chess Composer?

Here is the problem, which for the standards of the day was indeed well-constructed:



The solution is 1. Rg5! d5 2. Bd3 Kxd3 3. Rd5#. Today one would critique the flight-taking key, and Rg5 is the only move holding the king in his prison, but all pieces are necessary to the solution without the problem being cooked (possessing multiple and/or different solutions). In fact, this is a good exercise for anyone with a computer and wanting to learn something of how problems are constructed. Remove pawn g6, for example, and there is a mate in 2 by 1. Kf4. The Knight on b7 may seem superfluous, but without it, there are multiple solutions after Black’s d5 with the bishop moving to b7 or c8, and mating the king again with Rd5 after the King moves to d3.

Unfortunately, after a second, less successful problem was published in another Montreal newspaper, Frank Marshall gave up composition. However, he remained a fan of problems and studies, and took part in a number of solving contests during his lengthy career. And the skills he learned through composition and solving paid off in his over the board play. Chess problems provide players with extended calculating abilities, increased understanding of the workings of the pieces, and other benefits – for example, many chess problems contain paradoxical continuations that can help to find continuations in games never otherwise seen. Marshall’s most famous combination, for instance, could have been a chess problem.

Everyone who has been around chess for even a short time knows the famous story of Levitsky-Marshall. The story of how Marshall, on making his famous final move, was “showered with pieces of gold” from the audience is a familiar one. Most likely the story is at least partially apocryphal; some writers, such as Andrew Soltis, hypothesize that coins were thrown on the table from bets other players had made on the game. Other reports of the incident are less hyperbolic, and state Marshall was given money by chess fans for having played such a spectacular ending. Gold coins or not, the game and final position are certainly worth repeating:

Levitsky - Marshall
DSB–18.Kongress Breslau (6), 1912

1.e4 e6 2.d4 d5 3.Nc3 c5 4.Nf3 Nc6 5.exd5 exd5 6.Be2 Nf6 7.0–0 Be7 8.Bg5 0–0 9.dxc5 Be6 10.Nd4 Bxc5 11.Nxe6 fxe6 12.Bg4 Qd6 13.Bh3 Rae8 14.Qd2 Bb4 15.Bxf6 Rxf6 16.Rad1 Qc5 17.Qe2 Bxc3 18.bxc3 Qxc3 19.Rxd5 Nd4 20.Qh5 Ref8 21.Re5 Rh6 22.Qg5 Rxh3 23.Rc5 Qg3!!! 0–1



Hermann Helms, when he published the game in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, wrote “One might search the records in vain for a counterpart to a conclusion like this. It is a genuine problem….” Helms was almost right; while the ending has a problem-like theme, it’s not in itself a problem. Whereas in Marshall’s game Levitsky could opt out into a lost endgame instead of being mated, in a chess problem the mate must be forced. The following mate in two is an example of a problem composed using the theme Marshall employed in his combination.

Mate in 2. C+



The key should not be hard to find! One theme shown in this problem is the Pickaninny, which means all four possible moves of a pawn from its starting square figure into the defense (A bit weakly, since both 1… f6 and 1. …f5 lead to the same end, but it is still there!).

The chiasm between the world of the practical player and the chess artist is not really all that wide, and chess problems can be the bridge spanning it. A chessplayer can learn from problems and studies skills that might serve him well over the chessboard. And who knows, perhaps he may someday play a “Gold Coins” move!

Here the main variations:

1.Qg6! fxg6+ 2. Nxg6#
1. ... fxe6 2.Qe8#
1.... gxh6 2.Qg8#;
1. ... f5 2.Qe8#