Sanchez M - Jose Raul Capablanca. A Chess Biography (2015)

José Raúl Capablanca

A Chess Biography
MIGUEL A. SÁNCHEZ
Foreword by Andy Soltis
McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers

Jefferson, North Carolina
This heavily revised and greatly expanded work
grew out of the author’s book published in 1978 in Spanish as
Capablanca, leyenda y realidad
(Havana: Unión de Escritores y Artistas de Cuba).
FIRST EDITION, first printing
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGUING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

Sánchez, Miguel A., 1947–
José Raúl Capablanca : a chess biography / Miguel A. Sánchez ; foreword by Andy Soltis.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-7864-7004-4 (library binding : acid free paper)

ISBN 978-1-4766-1499-1 (ebook)
♾
1. Capablanca, José Raúl, 1888–1942.
2. Chess players—Cuba—Biography. I. Title.
GV1439.C3S36 2015 794.1092—dc23 [B] 2014013472
BRITISH LIBRARY CATALOGUING DATA ARE AVAILABLE
© 2015 Miguel A. Sánchez. 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 Robert Franklin and Wanda Dishmon
Typeset by Wanda Dishmon and Jessica Wilcox
Printed in the United States of America
McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers

Box 611, Jefferson, North Carolina 28640
www.mcfarlandpub.com
To my mothers Estela and Elisa
My children Victoria, Christian and Mickey
My wife Amalia
Contents
Foreword by Andy Soltis 1

Preface 3
1. Havana the Eldorado of Chess 7

2. Tadeo’s Saga 50
3. The Boy Prodigy 62
4. Champion of the Americas 104
5. The Prodigal Son 123
6. The New Conquistador 152
7. In Morphy’s Footsteps 186
8. A King in Waiting 208
9. The World Chess Championship, 1921 233
10. The Crowned King 255
11. Slipups at the Summit 275
12. More Challenges, New Triumphs 300
14. The Eternal Challenger 351
15. Twilight Intermezzo 390
16. Smiling Again 416
17. The Silent Killer 433
18. His Last Bow 450
Epilogue 477
Capablanca’s Matches 480
Appendix I: Capablanca on Four Great Predecessors 481
(Articulos sobre sus predecesores en Crítica, 1927) 486
vii
viii TABLE OF CONTENTS
Appendix II: “The Illness and Death of José Raúl Capablanca,”

by Dr. Orlando Hernández-Meilán, Neurologist 490
Chapter Notes 497
Bibliography 535
Index of Images 537
Index of Opponents 538
Index of Openings (by Traditional Name) 539
Index of Openings (by ECO Code) 540
General Index 541
“It is impossible to understand the world of chess
without looking at it with the eyes of Capablanca.”
—Mikhail Botvinnik
Foreword by Andy Soltis
Why do we continue to be fascinated by José Capablanca?

Our interest in him goes well beyond his iconic status as one of the two or three greatest
players of all time. It extends beyond his games, which, nevertheless, have inspired more
than 60 books—including works devoted solely to his endgames, to his travels in Russia or
Britain, and even to his few losses.
Other Pantheon-worthy players led
remarkable lives, of course. But they haven’t
gotten the same attention. There is a remark-
able paucity of biographical works devoted to,
for example, Alexander Alekhine, Vasily
Smyslov, Siegbert Tarrasch or Boris Spassky.
Not so with Capablanca.
Yet even with all that has been written,
we want and expect new research. Today, more
than 70 years since his death, we still ask ques-
tions about many aspects of Capa’s life. Among
the many:
How did he become a prodigy and later
seem to improve so much during 1906–07?
How could he master chess without books? (In
these pages you will find Jacques Mieses shed-
ding some light when he is quoted as saying
that Capa “gave practically all of his time” to
chess “from the fourth to the 22nd year of his
life.”)
What can we make of the strained rela-
tionship with his family, particularly the father
who didn’t want him to become a chess pro-
fessional?
How could someone with such a simple
(or, perhaps, deceptively simple-looking) style
surpass such profound strategists as Aron Nim- Capablanca as a young and powerful master
zowitsch, Richard Réti and Akiva Rubinstein? around 1915, when he was close to his peak
And who helped him along his remark- (courtesy Mercedes Capablanca).
1
2 FOREWORD
able life’s journey? Everyone who achieves greatness, whatever the field, may be said to be
lucky to some degree in being born at the right time. Capablanca was no exception because,
as we have learned, his Havana was a Petri dish of chess culture when he was young. This
book shows how key figures who have been generally overlooked by history, including Manuel
Márquez Sterling, played roles in Capablanca’s development.
There is a lot more to be learned about Capa. Even someone who has read extensively
about him may be surprised to discover in these pages how seriously ill he was, even before
his 50th birthday. (To put that in perspective, Mikhail Botvinnik was 49 when he won his
final world championship match.)
How much could a healthy Capablanca have achieved had he not suffered from his
family’s blood pressure problems? That’s one of the questions to be asked in the subjunctive
version of history—“what if ” history. Another intriguing question: What if Max Euwe had
won the 1937 world championship rematch with Alexander Alekhine? Euwe had promised
to accept Capablanca’s challenge next. If the Cuban had won a title match, in South America
in August 1939, how would that have changed chess in the war and postwar years?
No book can answer such questions. But each new book about José Capablanca makes
us realize how our interest in him is repaid.
Grandmaster Andy Soltis is the author of many books, including from McFarland alone Frank Marshall,
United States Chess Champion (1993); Soviet Chess 1917–1991; The 100 Best Chess Games of the 20th Century,
Ranked; Chess Lists (two editions); Los Voraces 2019: A Chess Novel; The United States Chess Championship,
1845–2011 (three editions); and Mikhail Botvinnik: The Life and Games of a World Chess Champion (2014).
His column “Chess to Enjoy” has appeared in Chess Life since 1979.
Preface
The physical traces of the stay of José Raúl Capablanca on Earth disappear a little more
every day, erased by time, that insatiable predator. His final home in New York, the building
at 157 57th Street on the north side almost at the corner of Seventh Avenue, was demolished.
In its place rises one of the tallest residential hotels in the city. His traces cannot be searched
for in the once nearby Manhattan Chess Club, at 100 Central Park South, as the venerable
institution ceased to exist several years ago.
Time was also merciless in Cuba. The premises in the ground floor of the Hotel Pasaje,
home of the Havana Chess Club, which on a Sunday in mid–September 1893 heard his
laughter and saw his childish mischief, while amid jumps and pirouettes he knelt on a chair
to see the board and beat his stunned rivals, has been gone for more than 30 years. The
entire building, perhaps overwhelmed by the weight of so much history, collapsed.
But Capablanca’s footprint is still very visible in the world of chess. The story of a child
who understood nearly at first glance the moves of a complicated game is unforgettable and
keeps stirring astonishment. He showed that there was as much beauty in the logical execu-
tion of a strategic plan as in the romantic attacks against the king. As Mikhail Botvinnik
said, there was no other way of understanding chess if it wasn’t by the way in which Capa-
blanca saw it. The praise “play like Capablanca” has become his most distinguished eulogy,
a compliment that captures the concept of developing a masterpiece of simplicity, harmony
and extreme elegance on the board.
Capablanca took chess out of confinement and into the highest levels of the social life
of his time. More than anyone else before, he changed the widespread perception that chess
players were hermits of a kind, who took refuge in gloomy places and whose lives were not
a proper focus of attention by the general public. Because of him, one might reasonably say,
not that Capablanca became known thanks to chess, but that many met chess thanks to him.
As demonstrated by the British press at the time of his demise, newspapers began to devote
more space to chess, members of clubs increased and in general, chess flourished.
The current book took as its source the Spanish version published in Cuba in 1978 with
the title Capablanca, Leyenda y Realidad, but the abundance of new material is such that it
can be considered a new work. Further research comprises more than half of the present work.
Gaps and errors have been corrected. Accounts of Capablanca’s personal life have been
expanded and unexplored parts of his background have been revealed; among them, a new
chapter dedicated to his ancestors, a theme not touched by his previous biographers. The
book also contains the diplomatic file of Capablanca (the Capablanca Diplomatic Com-
pendium, often cited in the Notes), released in Havana in 2002 by the Ministry of Foreign
3
4 PREFACE
Affairs of Cuba. Similarly, a revealing new account of the Buenos Aires match in 1927 not
only brings new light to that extraordinary historical confrontation but puts into perspective
the role of Capablanca in arranging the match, through correspondence with Alexander
Alekhine and the Argentine Chess Club.
This work also seeks to investigate, or at least open up necessary questions about,
whether Capablanca’s natural and extraordinary gift for chess was the result of a mind that
for some reason was not given to fatigue. This issue is dealt with as a matter that requires
serious consideration, in order to make a serene and impartial judgment on his life and his
legacy. Since the beginning of his career, Capablanca sometimes suffered a mysterious lapsus
in the process of chess thinking. Later such episodes were identified as lacunar crises (isolated
patches of memory loss) caused by his uncontrolled arterial hypertension. It is surprising
that despite this condition, Capablanca is by statistics one of the players with the lowest per-
centage of blunders ever, some have said the lowest; other researchers have concluded that
he was the human being closest to playing with the correctness of a computer.
Although education about chess itself is not the main purpose of the present work,
there are 192 instructive games of good chess play in the main text, and 10 others in the
notes, the vast majority from Capablanca, including some of his most memorable losses. His
games and annotations are a solid base of knowledge of chess as well as a source of pleasure,
and are an essential part of this biography.
Important and never published before in a book on the legendary Cuban are two appen-
dices. The first one collects the articles Capablanca wrote for the newspaper Crítica before
the world championship in Buenos Aires, where he shares in depth his views about the mas-
ters who preceded him. The second one presents the most thorough medical research avail-
able about his illness and death, by the neurologist Dr. Orlando Hernández-Meilán, who
with his twin brother Manuel, also a neurologist, previously wrote another clinical study
about the results of the Cuban’s autopsy.
Finally, this book is a tribute to a figure whose legend began beside a chessboard when
he was a little boy four years old and ended beside another one almost half a century later,
as if from above someone had wanted to give him before his last breath a farewell look at
those figurines with which he managed so much magic.
Since the first version of this biography in 1978, the author has recognized his many
friends who shared their time, gave their ideas, and provided valuable material. They asked
nothing more than a posthumous tribute to Capablanca. They were, then in memoriam,
Oscar Hurtado, Gustavo Eguren, IM Eleazar Jiménez, Miguel Alemán, IM Eldis Cobo, Dr.
Rosendo Romero, IM Boris de Greiff, IA Yacob Rokhlin, Zenaida Capablanca, Graciela
Capablanca, Dr. José Raúl Capablanca, Jr., Dr. Ángel de Albear, IA Alberto García. Thanks
go also to Raúl Rivero, Alexander Sizonenko, Evelio Tieles, Cecilio Tieles and Roger Reyes.
For this new book, the list has been extended to acknowledge the help of Mercedes
Capablanca de Medina, Gloria Capablanca, Mercedes Medina de Capablanca, Gloria Palacios
Capablanca, Rafael Palacios Capablanca, Fernando Aquiles Capablanca, Jr., Sergio Manuel
Capablanca, Miguel Capablanca González, Beatriz Peña, Mary Lou Cincotta, Uva de
Aragón, Grandmaster Zenón Franco, International Masters Blas Lugo, Julio Boudy and Ciro
Fernández, Professor Joaquín Mestre Jordi, Professor Rafael Acosta, Professor Francisco
Acosta, Pedro Rafael Cruz, Lic. Roberto Viñas, the late Eng. Ignacio Granados, Lic. Roberto
Mayor, Dr. Orlando Hernández-Meilán, Lic. Domingo del Pino, Professor Alejandro Castell,
Architect Roberto Pagura, Lic. Oscar Ferrer, Lic. Alex Fleitas, Lic. Hugo Luis Sánchez, Lic.
Preface 5
Jesús González Bayolo, Professor Eduardo Pimentel, Miguel Angel Nepomuceno, Professor
Daniel M. Alpern, Juan S. Morgado, Dr. Claudio Gonçalves, Lic. Carlos A. Ilardo, Lic. Blas
Barrías, Cristóbal Vega Adorno, Angelo Guiñez, Carlos L. Pujol, Rolando Sánchez, Dr.
Frank Brady, Jorge L. Fernández, Rolando Illa III and Norberto Codina. My colleague, pho-
tographer Manny Patiño, worked many hours to bring back to life historical faded images,
some of them in danger of being lost forever.
Jesús S. Suárez’s collaboration was crucial for the completion and structure of the current
volume, not only for his chess erudition, but also for his continued support. His extraordinary
help completed half a century of working together on different projects, from a humble
booklet of a kids’ tournament, to being part of the same team of three during the Chess
Olympics of 1966, including many years as part of the staff of Cuban chess magazine Jaque
Mate, among other works. He also translated into English major sections of the present
work. Also Professor Daniel Martínez and International Masters Alberto Barreras, Nelson
Pinal and Luis Sieiro lent their professional services. Special thanks go to grandmaster and
chess historian Andy Soltis, who kindly wrote the Foreword. I deeply appreciate their help.
My wife Amalia has invested many days in the libraries of Buenos Aires, Panama and
New York. Her feminine instincts soon found important historical pieces overlooked by
myself and many other scholars. For her, especially, I offer this book.
A Note on the Text

In the service of chess scholarship, throughout the book, with the exception of some
untranslated direct quotations, the correct or most widely agreed-upon form of proper names
is used, in the text, crosstables and notes.
An annotation shown as “A.N.” is an interpolation by the present author to distinguish
it within the commentary of an identified annotator.
1. Havana the Eldorado of Chess
Thus begins the Capablanca legend:

Boilers at rest and barely heaving, while her propeller’s frothy wake died out, the City
of Washington awaited the arrival of a tugboat that would squeeze her through the reefs and
currents of the bay’s narrow entrance. Bundled up on deck and braving the cold sea air, the
passengers observed the distant silhouette of the Morro Castle, the fortress guarding the
capital of the Caribbean’s largest island. Captivated by the spectacular view, they had stopped
cursing the ship’s bell clanging and the oft-repeated cries of “Havana ahoy!” as the city grew
before their eyes, on that January 17, 1889.
Among the passengers was the Russian Mikhail Ivanovich Chigorin, who had traveled
thousands of kilometers to keep his appointment in a city brimming with fabulous stories
that made it one of the most dreamed-of spots on the face of the earth. A city that also bore
its share of unsavory legends of voluptuousness, sin, eternal foul smells and noises, and whose
dwellers bragged about its 6,000 horse-drawn carriages recklessly driven in such commotion;
they likened it to the metropolitan pandemonium of its U.S. counterparts.1
Yellow fever was a brutal threat to which everyone was exposed as soon as the rainy
season started in April or May. This fact, most certainly, was not ignored by Chigorin, since
the world’s chess brotherhood was well aware of the tragic fates of Johann Nepomuk Maelzel
and his associate William Schlumberger in Havana. A certain air of banditry also accompa-
nied the city’s reputation; another famous chess editor, the German Tassilo von Heydebrand
und der Lasa, had warned that in 1888 he was mugged in broad daylight in one of its busy
streets. In a letter to Andrés Clemente Vázquez, a journalist and chess player from that city,
he recounted his mishap: “In Havana, as you must know, I was robbed on the street.”2
None of these stories seemed serious enough for Chigorin to cancel his trip. As soon
as he received the telegram inviting him to the island, he went ahead. “He departed St. Peters-
burg, bound for Hamburg and Kiel; the ship had to detour by way of Christiania and Kris-
tiansand in order to avoid some foul stormy weather and eventually sailed through foggy
seas around the north of Scotland and southern Iceland and circled the Orkneys, before
crossing the ocean on to New York,” as described in an almost epical tone by Vázquez, the
foremost chess chronicler writing in Spanish at the time, and who was deemed an “indefati-
gable worker” by William (Wilhelm) Steinitz.3
Havana was no longer the hamlet of humdrum houses and selfsame red tile roofs that
several visitors’ tales described, serving as inspiration for many travel books as well as novels
and poetry. By the time of Chigorin’s arrival, the city had grown lengthwise, bordering the
coast; multi-storied buildings could be seen, the lethargic atmosphere of the first centuries
7
8 JOSÉ R AÚL C APABLANCA
was gone, and the pungent smell of cured beef and poorly dried cod fish, so typical of earlier
decades according to Cuban writer Alejo Carpentier, had diminished.
When the City of Washington slowly sailed along the narrow channel leading to the
Havana inlet and headed for the docks, a barge manned by twelve uniformed black oarsmen
escorted her to the mooring berth. A delegation of the Havana Chess Club welcomed Chig-
orin, the “brave challenger of world champion Herr Steinitz,” as he was usually described
by the city’s press. It was the same type of reception given to William Steinitz, who had
adopted that name (instead of his birth name Wilhelm) upon becoming a U.S. citizen on
November 23, 1888.
It had all begun a few months earlier, during an informal gathering at the exclusive
Union Club in March 1888, when Havana’s leading chess figures met with Steinitz and began
to discuss possible rivals for a match against the monarch. Simon Winawer’s name was prof-
fered, but Steinitz commented that the Polish chess player was in poor health due to an
illness affecting his eyesight, a statement that gave rise to lament. Then the names of the
British Joseph Blackburne and Amos Burn, as well as the Scottish-American George H.
Mackenzie, were bandied about. All of a sudden, both the local leading heavyweights, Celso
Golmayo Zúpide and Vázquez, in unison, proposed Chigorin and expounded their argu-
ments: twice victor over the world champion at the London 1883 tournament and a favorable
record of three victories and one loss against him. The proposal won the local consensus,
but, out of deference, they left the final decision to Steinitz, as his prerogative, totally trusting
his good judgment and sportsmanship. Steinitz did not disappoint them, and later, from
New York, once the details concerning expenses were worked out, he telegraphed Havana
to confirm that Chigorin was his choice, specifying that the invitation should be made on
behalf of the organizers and not as a personal challenge by him.4
Up to that point the history of chess on the island was not a dazzling one, although
there had been a few spectacular moments: the exhibits of Kempelen’s automaton, presented
by Maelzel in 1837 and 1838, followed by Paul Morphy’s visits in 1862 and 1864, as well as
Steinitz’s in 1883 and later in 1888, as world champion. The game had been cultivated by
the select social class that by then enjoyed enough leisure time to make offerings before the
altars of the goddess Caissa. The reference that in 1518 Captain Manuel de Rojas, governor
of the southeastern city and region of Bayamo, used to while away his spare time exchanging
checks with the employee who managed the assets in the domains of the conquistador Diego
Velázquez, was the first reference to chess in America.5
In the late 18th century and early 19th, the advent of the sugar planters and produc-
ers—an oligarchy that Cuban historian Manuel Moreno Fraginals6 named “sacarocracy”
(from the Spanish sacarosa, for sucrose, the type of sugar found in cane)—created a strong
wave of the Enlightenment that swept the island. Chess, considered by the fashions of the
time an activity worthy of learned and refined spirits, was to be a part of it. Soirées were held
nightly in many of Havana’s mansions, and the city became a magnet for the most diverse
artists, adventurers and even aviation pioneers such as Virginia Robertson, the daring aviatrix
of aerostatic balloons, who on April 26, 1834, lifted off in a flight before the eyes of thousands
of Habaneros.
Cuba was enjoying a period of broad prosperity, given its condition as capital of the
world’s foremost sugar producer.7 The Cuban gross national product exceeded, per capita,
that of Spain, a unique phenomenon of imperial-colonial economic relations, according to
Fraginals. The sugar boom that followed the economic debacle after the Haitian Revolution
was such that it encouraged the construction of a railroad on the island in 1837, almost ten
years before the first one was laid in Spain. A lot of money was flowing in Cuba those days,
and sugar planters, as well as the slave merchants who provided the work force, had a well-
deserved reputation for their squandering ways. The economic prosperity coincided with
the arrival of Captain General Miguel Tacón, a despotic ruler who distinguished himself for
advances in urban development, such as the construction of wide and shaded tree-lined
avenues. Tacón also is remembered for a huge prison he built, to remind the city dwellers of
the narrow limitations of their prerogatives. The inviolable curtailments applied even to the
tenors and sopranos of the Italian opera who came with their companies to the island every
year, and they were strictly forbidden to sing the word liberty, being required to replace it
with loyalty. That’s how stern were the ground rules.
Since money was streaming, it was customary for the enriched planters as well as the
infamous slave traffickers (the Spanish word for slave, esclavo, was also to be avoided, and
the correct terms were negro or bozal) to buy proud titles of nobility in Spain, paying up to
45,000 pesos fuertes (also known as “Spaniard dollars”) to become a marquis and 25,000–
30,000 to become a count. In Cuban history those new aristocrats came to be known as
“parchment nobles.” The titles, besides polishing their social status and satisfying their ego
demands, also provided protection for the new nobility against common justice, because
nobles could not be arrested except for murder or crimes of treason. Moreover, as another
noted Cuban historian, Ramiro Guerra, suggested, it was a defense strategy against the
absolute power of the captains general, who ruled Cuba at will for terms of four or five years.
The parchment aristocracy had in Havana up to 34 marquises and 32 counts, three of whom
were also grandees of Spain, according to British historian Hugh Thomas; or 34 marquises
and 39 counts, according to another important Cuban historian, Leví Marrero. All that
without adding four more marquises and one count whose titles were originally granted out-
side the island to individuals who came to live in Cuba at a later date.8
The fame of the Cuban capital’s salons reached New York and Philadelphia, where it
came to the attention of Johann Nepomuk Maelzel, a daring entrepreneur and talented cre-
ator of mechanical instruments, both musical and technical, as well as those used for enter-
tainment. Being a musician himself, Maelzel coped well in the field and, although not all his
ventures ended well, he even had dealings with Ludwig van Beethoven. He knew that the
Italian opera had been received with delight in Havana since 1776, and that an exclusive
venue had been built for that particular purpose, the Coliseo, inaugurated in 1775. It was
later called the Principal, a theatre that many art historians consider the first one constructed
specifically for opera performances in the New World. The Havanans’ love for music could
have been an additional stimulus for the debt-ridden Maelzel, who felt hounded by the press’s
inquisitiveness. He decided to include Cuba in his next tour; in one of his many trunks was
the chess-playing “automaton” (with a cleverly hidden operator) designed by Wolfgang von
Kempelen decades earlier in Vienna, and later exhibited in European courts as the latest
accomplishment of Austrian science.
The main motives behind a tour beyond the U.S. East Coast in those final months of
1837 were the inquiries facing Maelzel from a talented journalist named Edgar Allan Poe,
who, after attending several exhibits of the automaton, wrote an article that unleashed a
popular uproar. Poe’s explanation of the automaton’s mystery was not altogether accurate,
but somehow managed to capture the readers’ attention, the way only great writers are capable
of doing. His chronicle would be prophetic, not by properly deciphering the automaton’s
clue, but by providing a glimpse of the deductive technique that he would later apply to his
detective stories. Poe abhorred chess; in his short story The Murders in the Rue Morgue, he
wrote that checkers was a superior game. The writer forced Maelzel one more time to flee
those who challenged “The Turk,” just as other investigative reports had chased him out of
Europe. Then he headed to the U.S. Midwest and South, touring several cities. In late Feb-
ruary 1838, he sailed for Havana, packing along a diverse and fascinating show with the
automaton as the main attraction, but also including other mechanical marvels, such as the
trumpeter, tightrope dancers and a miniature theatrical performance he called Pyrrhic Fires.
Maelzel surmised that the passion of Habaneros (residents of Havana) for opera, circus,
two-headed twins, balloon flights, bullfights, cockfights, costume parties and all that was
rare and entertaining, was precisely what he was looking for. He was a colorful character,
considered by many a genial showman, a true “prince of show business,” with such an extensive
background that his name would be upstaged in his time only by the emergence of Phineas
Taylor Barnum, the father of circus in the United States. His many talents accompanied a
roguish behavior. He allegedly appropriated the musical metronome perfected by the Dutch-
man Dietrich Nikolaus Winkel and patented it as his own invention. If what Habaneros
really wanted was to have a good time being entertained, Maelzel was their man. His compass
was right on target when he observed that the attendants at his exhibits seemed more inter-
ested in showing off their elegant clothes than in examining the chess-playing automaton’s
inner secrets. That trait of the Havanans was hardly a novelty, since it had already bemused
several journalists who visited the island and wrote down their impressions in innumerable
stories. Among them was the German author Eduard Otto Erscheinungsjahr’s memoirs of
his travels, Reiseerinnerungen an Cuba, Nord- und Südamerica (1838–41), published in
Berlin in 1843.
A warm welcome nourished Maelzel’s idea of returning to the island with an encore of
an improved show, featuring the debut of the second version of the Conflagration of Moscow.
It would be presented as El Incendio de Moscow in Havana, where the city residents had heard
of it. But he did not bring it with him on his first trip, probably because, as it was claimed,
he had sold the previous version to another itinerant theatre group. With those plans in
mind, he left Havana and headed to Philadelphia, where after great expenses and punctilious
work he managed to finalize the newly assembled Conflagration, recreating the great fire that
destroyed the Russian capital after Napoleon’s invasion in 1812. In this new project he
received once again the financial support of the tycoon John F. Ohl, who apparently financed
it or was his partner in a joint venture, besides providing transportation to the island on
board his freighter Lancet. After a few days at sea, Maelzel landed once again in Havana, on
November 9, 1837, with a slew of assistants and more than twenty trunks, as well as crates
filled with wooden-boards stage sets. After the Cuban engagement, he was planning a tour
of South America, in order to distance himself from the never-ending questions thrown at
him in Europe and the United States.9
By late December, Maelzel had everything ready to open his show in Havana and, being
the skillful promoter that he was, placed posters of the exhibit in the city’s busiest spots. He
installed the show in a key location: 110 Cuba Street, at the intersection of Ricla (a street
later known as Muralla), where every night “at 8 o’clock sharp” the curtains would rise for
the Mechanical Theatre (which is how it was billed in Havana), and general admission seats
sold for four reales each. The ads indicated that during all intermissions music would be
played by the Melodium, another of the mechanical devices that Maelzel had brought to
Havana, while the automaton was to be reserved for special performances.10 At first everything
went as well as in the previous trip, but in the course of Lent, attendance diminished. The
superstitious slave coach drivers spread on the streets of Havana fearful stories about the
enigmatic character with the supposedly deep booming voice that none could defeat in the
mysteries of chess. The truth is that the automaton had turned the game into the city’s
current curiosity, and a significant part of the Havana society wanted to witness this some-
thing, or someone, surrounded by legends, among them a purported victory over Napoleon,
a yarn that reeked of falsehoods that Maelzel himself has discreetly encouraged.
Something, however, plotted against the show: The highest echelons of Havana society
were divided as a result of General Tacón, whose term was approaching its end, and who,
despising the local oligarchs who had attempted to boycott him, denied them access to his
palace, opening its doors in turn to the Spanish-born wealthy merchants who were regarded
as plebeians by the Cuban aristocracy. The Spaniards at that point showed a resolve to dis-
tance themselves from those born on the island. As a result, mutual distrust affected the
relations between the two social peaks in Havana. That could have been one of the causes
of the dwindling attendance at Maelzel’s shows; he, unsuspectingly, was witnessing the begin-
ning of the end of the old islander oligarchy’s economic supremacy, and its substitution by
a new one, composed of recent arrivals from the Iberian peninsula, a class whose economic
power would last even beyond the end of Spain’s rule on the island.
Upon winter’s end and after the beginning of Lent, on Ash Wednesday, fewer of the
public attended the staging, a normal respite that usually follows prolonged festivities such
as carnivals, and also a period that in Catholic tradition is meant to be devoted to reflection
and repentance, leading to Good Friday, two days prior to Easter Sunday. It is a time during
which festive activities slow down. There is no doubt that those peculiarly negative circum-
stances made Maelzel lose his habitual sixth sense of the economic health of his presentations.
Almost two centuries later, it is impossible to imagine why the Habaneros did not rush, as
usual, to Maelzel’s theatre. Not just to see the automaton, but to enjoy the beautiful allegory
of Moscow’s burning, with its rows of miniature Napoleonic soldiers entering the Russian
capital, whose lights were promptly extinguished as a splendorous flash devoured all, in the
midst of skillful displays of light and musical curtain combinations that shifted from tri-
umphal military marches to intensely dramatic beats. Maelzel never imagined such an indif-
ference towards his offerings. It is possible that the language change could have been another
hurdle, although his use of the Spanish language was limited to inviting members of the
audience to test their abilities against the automaton; that was not a serious problem for the
experienced showman he was, and could have been dealt with by hiring a local presenter to
address those in the audience in their native language. Perhaps, under those circumstances,
his lack of pizzazz and personal charm as an announcer contributed to breaking the capti-
vating spell that his earlier shows enjoyed in the United States and Europe. Regardless of
what caused the public’s apathy, Maelzel had no choice but to stay in Havana and wait for
another revival of interest at the end of Lent, estimating that it would take place around
mid–April; or for his backers to take the show to South America, an option that never mate-
rialized.
The month of April, far from bringing the break he was expecting, became his worst
nightmare. Schlumberger, the automaton’s secret operator, died of yellow fever, and the other
members of the team fled the island out of fear, among them the Fischers (he was the
carpenter-painter stagehand and she was the housekeeper-cook). Thus abandoned, Maelzel,11
dejected and broke, left Havana on July 14, 1838, on board the Otis, which, like the Lancet,
also belonged to Ohl. One of Ohl’s partners in Cuba, Francisco Álvarez, supposedly loaned
Maelzel the money to return to the United States. The day he sailed from Havana, and
while the Morro Castle’s silhouette was still fading away, Captain Joseph L. Nobre invited
Maelzel to a chess match. Nobre would later mention that he was amazed at the great physical
changes in Maelzel’s appearance. No longer the optimistic and decisive man he had met
before, he was now a veritable rag of a human being, according to Tom Standage’s book The
Turk.
After a couple of games, in which Maelzel displayed an atypical nasty temper, he was
seen again at dinnertime, and then he secluded himself in his cabin with a case of wine he
had brought aboard and ordered to be placed by his door. From then on, he ignored all
requests to come out and did not even bother to reply to questions about how he felt. His
lifeless body was found on the morning of July 21, when the vessel was within sight of
Charleston, South Carolina. In true naval tradition, a heavy weight was tied to his feet and
his body was buried at sea. Some assert that he died of yellow fever12; others, that he drank
himself to death. A combination of both explanations is plausible. Anyhow, it was a tragic
finale for such a remarkable individual, who had popularized chess in many countries and
who is rightfully credited with giving the game its first boom, both in the United States and
Cuba. At the end of his life, the great illusionist had left unexplainable enigmas such as the
nature of his relationship with Schlumberger, the true causes of his death, and the secret of
the false automaton, which until then had remained a mystery.13
In Cuba, the intricate victories of the allegedly mechanical brain during its fateful
stay on the island also caused an outburst of enthusiasm for the game. When Maelzel shipped
out to the United States on his final voyage, he left behind more than a few troubled
minds who attempted in vain to decipher the automaton’s mysteries. Some attempted to
take advantage of the echo left by the Havana adventures of the automaton and the curiosity
it sparked, in order to rally a more stable interest for the game. In fact, a seed had been
planted and it sprouted little by little, as chess penetrated the social groups of the middle
class, professionals and intellectuals, aided by favors already extended by benefactors with
deep pockets.
However, it wasn’t until March 15, 1854, that the Revista de la Habana, one of whose
editors was the man of letters and educator Rafael María de Mendive, featured what appar-
ently was the first chess problem published in Cuba:
With this issue we begin a series of chess problems that without a doubt will provide a pleasant
entertainment for those of our readers who belong to the numerous aficionados that the game
already has among us. The first problem is not exactly difficult, on the contrary, it is rather easy.
The solutions can be sent to our printer by the 25th of the current month.14
wDwDwDwD
DwDKDwDw
wDwDwDwD
DwDkDNDw
wDwDwDwD White to play and
mate in three moves.15
DwDPDwDw
wDw$wDwD
DwDwDwDw
The magazine also stated that the city’s Lyceum had organized a chess circle numbering
60 associates. Arising from that enthusiasm came the announcement of a celebration to be
held on November 1 for the opening of a tournament divided into three classes and sponsored
by that same publication. In that case, it was also a founding event, since all evidence suggests
that it was the first call for a chess competition in Cuba. It is curious that the magazine never
reported the names of the winners. A later issue mentioned an invitation to another tour-
nament, based on the success of the previous one. That promise was not kept, however,
because an editorial policy change discontinued the publication of chess information and
focused on literary and theatrical activities.16
This initial step was followed by another more transcendental one: the Spanish trans-
lation of Louis-Charles Mahé de la Bourdonnais’ Nouveau Traité du jeu des échecs. The trans-
lation was not published in Havana, but in the southeastern city of Santiago de Cuba, in
1855, by a lover and promoter of the game, Carlos Manuel de Céspedes. He undertook that
task after explaining that it was a famous treatise, a modern and practical manual of rules
and foundations of chess. Céspedes had been a student of civil law at the San Carlos de la
Habana Seminary, in the days that the automaton delighted a varied audience in the Cuban
capital. It seems possible that those demonstrations caused such an impression that from
then on he included chess among his fondest pastimes.
As the years went by, Céspedes chose a path that would make him an irreconcilable enemy
of the Spanish colonial power. He also founded newspapers and cultural societies where,
amidst Bach’s fugues, poetical improvisations and pervasive antimonarchical feelings, pro-
independence topics thrived, such as expressed by one of the assiduous attendants, Pedro “Peru-
cho” Figueredo, the future author of the Cuban national anthem. Accused of plotting
activities, Céspedes was arrested and sent to prison to the ship Soberano and later to the Morro
Castle, in the city of Santiago de Cuba, where he served five months, after which he was banned
from his home and had to remain for a longer time in that city. While in prison, he remembered
the old need for a functional chess guide, and since he had plenty of time, he translated and
arranged de la Bourdonnais’ manual for publication by the local daily El Redactor. The paper’s
editorial board presented Céspedes as a fearsome player with vast knowledge of the subject.17
Meanwhile, in Havana, the memory of the Turk continued to encourage the advance
of chess in a manner that, although not quite spectacular, was at least constant. So many
queens, bishops and knights were offered at the home of Félix Sicre, in the village of Guan-
abacoa, near Havana, that he was honored with the unofficial title of Cuba’s “first chess
champion.”18 Other groups grew in Havana around Cuban-born Blas Du Bouchet, the son
of a Catalonian colonel who served in the Spanish army in Mobila (present day Mobile),
Alabama, and New Orleans, Louisiana. Vázquez has left us this written account of his first
and accidental visit to Du Bouchet’s home in Havana:
One night, as we were walking along San José Street in this city at the corner of Manrique
[Street], we suddenly noticed a house lighted à giorno, decorated with great luxury and showing
a main hall with several chess tables, surrounded by players, chatting and frequently laughing
and arguing.... Next to one of the windows and laid back on a plush armchair was a portly man,
with penetrating eyes, kind bearing and thick beard, puffing on a cigar and staring with a certain
pensive vagueness at the curling smoke, an exact and disconsolate reflection of human inconstan-
cies. That man was Dr. Blas Du Bouchet, a famous patriarch of Cuban chess....19
The Du Bouchet home, with its splendid rooms and open house dinners, accessible to
all chess buffs, welcomed daily a gamut of night owls and gladiators of peaceful combats.
They didn’t foresee a great development or a massive interest, having no inkling of the emo-
tional blow that would come over the announcement of the arrival to Havana in 1862 of
Paul Charles Morphy, the demigod of chess, who, according to chronicles of the time, seemed
sent to show his contemporaries the hidden and subtle ways of a new annunciation. Cubans
were aware of Morphy’s European feats, as well as of his success in the First American Chess
Congress of 1857. At least one resident of the island knew him personally: Professor Antonio
Fiol, who had been his classmate at the Jesuit-run Spring Hill College, in Mobile, where
most probably he had played and lost several games with him.20
That knowledge about Morphy gives evidence that Havana’s newspapers published
chess news, now and then, from the United States and Europe, and that there were readers
who awaited them. Morphy arrived in Havana on the Spanish military vessel Blasco de Garay,
along with 79 other passengers. It was a highly controversial crossing out of New Orleans,
since the United States government had accused Spain of allowing on board their warships,
anchored at that port, suspected collaborators of the Confederate cause, in addition to giving
refuge to Spanish citizens seeking to flee the desperate situation engulfing the city, a human-
itarian mission that had been the original reason for granting them permission to enter the
inlet.
José Manuel Díaz Herrera, the captain of the Blasco de Garay, even refused to provide
the names of the 80 Confederate rebels who were on his ship when the Union inspectors
came on board before allowing her to sail. And just as tight-lipped regarding the mysterious
passengers coming from Louisiana was Cuba’s governor, General Francisco Serrano. Morphy’s
clandestine status in Havana was not meant to avoid the notice of chess players on the island,
but was part of the intrigues surrounding the voyage and the passengers of the Spanish
flotilla. The reasons are not hard to guess, from concealing likely bribes paid to Captain
Díaz Herrera by those he protected on his ships, to treasures and hefty amounts of money
sneaked aboard. Also, no doubt, there was at least one hidden Confederate leader fleeing
from the Yankee troops, a certain Roberts, mentioned among the possible fugitives who got
away on the Blasco de Garay.
Bent on smearing the passengers’ names, the conqueror of New Orleans, General Ben-
jamin Franklin Butler, claimed that even a murderer recently escaped from prison, “still wear-
ing his victim’s boots,” was among those who sailed on the Spanish frigate. Those unusual
circumstances later contributed to the legend that Morphy had traveled to Europe as a spy
or agent of the Confederate government, not as a refugee who wanted to leave behind a city
plagued by famine and epidemics. All things considered, not many of those who left New
Orleans on board the Blasco de Garay could, like Morphy, claim Spanish ancestry, and perhaps
that’s what swayed Captain Díaz Herrera into allowing him to board, if in fact he was unaware
of Morphy’s prominence in chess.21 Havana’s press, notoriously thorough in covering the
naval transit at its port, maintained a total silence about the arrival of the Blasco de Garay
and the rest of the flotilla, which included La Pinta and the María Galante. Actually, it
seems that Morphy had gone underground in the city for a longer time than the three or
four days mentioned by Havana’s newspapers, but, of course, not as much as two months, as
claimed by his sister Regina Morphy-Voitier.
A total stay of about a month in the Cuban capital seems to match the known facts.
We must take into consideration the time elapsed between the first report made on September
24 by the American authorities about the anomalies of the Blasco de Garay, and Morphy’s
departure from Havana to Cádiz on October 30, excluding the time of the voyage from
Although only in transit to Europe, Morphy’s visit to Havana in 1862 contributed to the popu-
larization of chess in Cuba. Morphy returned to the island briefly in 1864 on his way back to
New Orleans. The caption reads: “Soirée” of chess players in the home of [Señor Don] Francisco
Fésser (Havana), October 17, 1862. (From El Moro Muza, October 26, 1862.)
Louisiana to Cuba, although it is actually difficult to ascertain how many days he spent
incognito. For instance, David Lawson says in his classic Paul Morphy: The Pride and Sorrow
of Chess, that Morphy departed from New Orleans around October 10. All those circum-
stances of extreme secrecy hushing the Blasco de Garay’s enigmatic voyage explain why Mor-
phy’s presence in Havana wasn’t discovered until October 14–15, and why nothing was
mentioned by the press until October 16, when the Gaceta de la Habana published this brief
note:
A STAR—We have a star in Havana and few know about it. He’s the celebrated chess player
Morphy, who has garnered so many victories over the board, in America and Europe. The
steamer Blasco de Garay has brought him from New Orleans, where he was pressed to leave
because of the state of political affairs in that country. The chess players from our capital should
bear that in mind, in case they would like to match strengths with him, because we have been
assured that very soon he will be leaving this port and heading to Europe, where he is planning
to stay temporarily.
Upon reading this short item, a group of prominent citizens went to visit Morphy at
the Hotel América, where he was staying. The delegation was formed by Félix Sicre, Blas
Du Bouchet, Vicente and Aureliano Medina; and it is possible that it also included banker
Francisco Fésser, one of the country’s most solid Creole businessmen and financiers, since
the engagement to face the American genius was set for the next evening, October 17, at his
house.
Not much was published in Havana about chess in those times, and the editor of the
daily El Siglo, who also included the newsworthy item in his October 16 issue, made fun of
the local chess aficionados by casually dropping sarcastic puns based on the Spanish word
for chess player, ajedrecista. However, what really ruffled a lot of feathers was when the term
“chess maniacs” appeared in the October 16 issue. The affront prompted a reply on October
26 by Juan Martínez Villergas, editor of the satirical weekly Moro Muza, stating that he was
one of those “half crazed guys” who, by cultivating the “most honorable game,” gave proof
of having good judgment. The El Siglo newspaper had been bought recently by Francisco
Frías, a count, and a highly respected Creole in Havana, but perhaps lukewarm to the enjoy-
ment of chess. Whether out of cynicism or humor, or as a simple journalistic gimmick to
grab attention, the fact is that on October 16 an anonymous editor at El Siglo, or the count
himself, was one of two journalists (the other was the editor of the Gaceta de la Habana)
with enough professional sagacity to discover the presence of the American genius in the
city for the past three or four days, as they assumed, and the fact of his play there. It was he
who left for posterity the historical fact of the address and time of Morphy’s first chess match
in Havana: 66 Compostela Street, at 6:30 p.m.22
The legendary character found by Havanans on those October evenings matched with
great accuracy Morphy’s portrait, as written by the Irish pastor George Alcock McDonnell,23
as a shy man with a very particular physique: broad, massive forehead, dark eyes that along
with a pleasant expression also evidenced a strong calculating will that could be detected
before lifting the eyelids. A firm jaw signaling determination. He was rather short and had
small and delicate hands and feet. The most pleasing aspect of his presence was the eyes that
“conveyed glowing twinkles.” The only perceptible differences were that Morphy then had
a budding moustache that refused to thicken and was a few pounds heavier than in other
images of himself that were known in Havana.
In the two weeks that Morphy was in view of the Habaneros chess players, he played
at the houses of Félix Sicre, Carlos Sedano and Blas Du Bouchet. Two of his matches were
of special historical importance: one, that he faced Félix Sicre; and the other, that he did
not turn down the invitation to play against a black slave, an attitude that clearly showed
that Morphy was not prejudiced, despite his social background and the special circumstances
of his upbringing. That respectful attitude towards the slave José María Sicre can be consid-
ered with all due justice the most impressive merit of this first visit to Havana.
The match against Félix Sicre, considered at the time Cuba’s champion, had a note-
worthy aspect in that it was one of the few games that Morphy played under equal conditions,
after having stated in 1859 that he wouldn’t play against anyone who did not accept an
advantage. It is known that Morphy broke that promise in the match against the famous
writer Augustus Mongredien, an Englishman of French origins and author of the book Free
Trade and English Commerce, considered a venerable figure in London chess circles. That
match, played in late February and early March 1859 in Paris, can be interpreted as an act
of courtesy on Morphy’s part, more than a serious contest, since Mongredien was very far
from Morphy’s class.
It has also been recorded that he faced Johann Löwenthal three times, played at least
once against Samuel Boden, Mongredien again (in 1863), and his friend Jules Arnous de Riv-
ière, also in 1863, without demanding that they be given advantage. But that does not exempt
his match in Havana against Félix Sicre, in 1862, from having a special meaning, since
excluding the mentioned examples, Morphy refused to sit at the table and play under equal
conditions. This indicates an attitude that some interpret as a symptom of desperation
after the Englishman Howard Staunton’s refusals to accept his offer and dispute the world-
wide supremacy between themselves. A very discouraged Morphy challenged Staunton once
more, but this time on the condition that he (Morphy) offered pawn and first move. In addi-
tion to Staunton, Morphy extended the challenge under those conditions to the entire world
of chess.
Félix Sicre–Paul Morphy [C78]

Havana, 1862
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 Morphy plays his famous Morphy Defense, nowadays
Black’s most often employed move. 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. d3 The Anderssen Variation. 5. ... Bc5
6. 0–0 b5 7. Bb3 d6 8. c3 h6 9. Be3 B×e3 10. f×e3 0–0 11. Nbd2
d5 12. e×d5 N×d5 13. Qe2 Be6 (see diagram) rDw1w4kD
14. B×d5 This unnecessary exchange of a bishop for a Dw0wDp0w
knight in an open position is very questionable. The modern pDnDbDw0
approach is: 14. Bc2 Qe7 15. d4 Rad8 16. Qf2 f5 17. Rfe1 e4 DpDn0wDw
18. Nh4 Rf6 19. g3 g5 20. Ng2 Rdf8 21. Qe2 Kg7 22. a4 Rb8 wDwDwDwD
23. a×b5 a×b5 with just a small advantage to Black ( J. Van Keme- DB)P)NDw
nade–M. Coimbra, Dresden 2008—that game ended in a draw
P)wHQDP)
$wDwDRIw
in 43 moves). 14. ... Q×d5 15. Ne4 f5 16. Nf2 Qd8 17. b3 g5
18. Kh1 g4 19. Ng1 Also 19. Nd2 Qg5 20. a4 and Black stands After 13. … Be6
only slightly better. 19. ... Qg5 20. Rad1 Ne7 21. Qd2 There is
a better defense in 21. e4 f4 22. d4 Rad8 23. d×e5 R×d1 24. Q×d1 wDw4w4kD
Ng6 25. Nd3 N×e5 26. N×e5 Q×e5 27. Qd4 although Black DwDwhwDw
stands a little better. 21. ... Rad8 22. d4 c5 (see diagram)
pDwDbDw0
Dp0w0p1w
23. e4? Better is 23. Nd3 c×d4 24. c×d4 Nd5 (less strong
wDw)wDpD
is 24. ... e×d4 25. Nf4 Bf7 26. e×d4 and Black is just slightly bet- DP)w)wDw
ter) 25. Rfe1 e×d4 26. e×d4 Bc8 although Black remains slightly PDw!wHP)
better. 23. ... Q×d2 24. R×d2 c×d4 25. Rfd1 f×e4 26. N×e4 DwDRDRHK
Bd5 With a winning position. 27. c×d4 If 27. Re2 Rf4 28. Ng3
After 22. … c5
d×c3, winning. 27. ... B×e4 28. d×e5 R×d2 29. R×d2 Rf1 30. e6
Kg7 31. Rd4 Re1 32. Rd2 Nd5 33. e7 Kf7 34. Rf2+ K×e7
White resigned. 0–1.
Regarding the unusual match against José María Sicre, played blindfold by Morphy, it
is the only one known in modern chess history in which a legendary figure of his stature
played against an opponent who was not a free man. Since Morphy came from a pro-slavery
state, the game could be regarded, besides being unusual, as a provocation. On the island,
still a colony and also ruled by the same slavery system, the existing conditions would nor-
mally have precluded such an event. A press dispatch by the Havana correspondent of the
Louisville Daily Journal (exact date unknown) reported with awe-stricken language the
unheard-of scene of a famous figure, venerated by the white lords and masters of the world,
facing a young black slave across a chessboard:
Morphy has just been electrifying the Habaneros with his wonderful powers. I have had the
pleasure of passing two whole days amid invited admirers of this king of chess, all watching in
eager silence each move. Our best player, and in fact, the best player on the island, is a Negro,
black as ebony. His father came from Africa. He has often beaten his master, to whom Morphy
only gives a Knight. Morphy has agreed to play a game with him, giving him the King’s Knight.
As yet, we have had but one blindfold game. This was at the house of Mr. Charles Serrano. We
are to witness a match of ten blindfolded games at the house of the same gentleman on next
Tuesday. What causes the greatest wonder here is that Morphy can combine conversation with a
group of ladies and gentlemen, while playing his game.
Paul Morphy (Blindfold)–José María Sicre [C01]

Havana, 1862
1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. e×d5 e×d5 4. Nf3 Bd6 5. Bd3 Nf6 rDwDw4kD
6. 0–0 0–0 7. Nc3 c6 8. Bg5 Bg4 9. h3 B×f3 It is curious the 0p1nDp0p
way in which in those days some players thoughtlessly exchanged wDpgwhwD
their bishops for knights in open positions. Played more recently DwDpDwGw
has been 9. ... Bh5 10. Bf5 Bg6 11. B×g6 h×g6 12. Ne5 Qc7 13. Re1 wDw)wDwD
Nbd7 14. N×d7 N×d7 15. Qd3 Rfe8 with an even game. S. DwHBDQDP
Fodre–J. Laszlo, Hungary 2003: The game was drawn in 39 P)PDw)PD
moves. 10. Q×f3 Nbd7 11. Rfe1 Qc7 (see diagram) $wDw$wIw
12. g4 Rfe8 13. Be3 Kh8? Losing a pawn; better is 13. ... After 11. … Qc7
Nf8. 14. g5 Ng8 15. Q×f7 Re7 There is a better defense: 15. ...
Ne5 16. Q×c7 Nf3+ 17. Kh1 B×c7 18. Rf1 Ne7 19. Be2 rDwDwDni
Nh4. 16. Qh5 Nf8 17. Qg4 Ne6 (see diagram) 0p1w4w0p
c18. B×h7! Morphy’s combinative genius appears. 18. ... Nf6 wDpgnDwD
A clever idea, but Morphy soon finds its flaw. Better is 18. ... DwDpDw)w
K×h7 19. Qh5+ Nh6 20. g×h6 g6 21. Qg4 Rae8 22. Kh1 Nf4 wDw)wDQD
23. Rg1 Re6 24. Rg3 Qf7 25. Rag1 Rf6 26. Rf3 Rf5 and White DwHBGwDP
would still have to fight for the victory. 19. g×f6 g×f6 20. Bg6 P)PDw)wD
Rg7 21. Qh5+ Kg8 22. Kh1 With a winning position. The rest $wDw$wIw
was 22. ... Nf8 23. Bf5 Bf4 24. Rg1 B×e3 25. f×e3 Rg5 26. h4
After 17. … Ne6
Nh7 27. h×g5 Black resigned. 1–0.
It is not illogical to conclude that by accepting the invitation to play against a slave,
Morphy wanted to give an example of respect toward that person, instead of humiliating
him by scorning the invitation.24 Having defeated all his rivals conclusively, Morphy was at
the peak of his strength after the triumphal European tour, crushing adversaries everywhere.
The Creole aficionados knew not how to look at him, and wondered if it was at all possible
to stare at a god straight in the eye! Disconcerted and groping for adjectives, the Creole
salons, shaken by Morphy, conveyed their uneasiness and reverence to other social circles
beyond chess, where it was soon realized that something out of the ordinary was happening
in Havana. He was called “enigmatic like the Sphinx,” but without an Oedipus to decipher
him; futile attempts were exhausted trying to discover secrets that the chess lovers of the
times, on a global scale, fell short to solve. Many were the questions that went unanswered,
until Steinitz at first25 and then Emanuel Lasker and Richard Réti, in the 20th century coher-
ently exposed in substantial works the doctrines that emerged in those years, as well as Mor-
phy’s value and significance.
The puzzle solved at last, the critics concluded that in the period prior to 1830, chess
masters did not suspect that the game could admit alternatives other than those devised for
the exclusive purpose of a direct, unencumbered and romantic attack on the opposing forces
that guard the king. Morphy had accomplished what de la Bourdonnais attempted prema-
turely, as would later be explained by Dr. Emanuel Lasker and in other theoretical treatises:
systematizing the order for moving pieces in the openings by following principles based on
new valuations of the importance of development. In short, it was the triumph of harmony
and logic versus chaos. Those who faced him looked in shock at their deteriorated positions
that suddenly seemed completely useless, while the enemy pieces seemed to have exclusive
rights to the long lines and achieved the annihilation of defensive pieces and, many times,
along the way, of His Majesty himself, or such spoils that predicted the end result ipso facto.
German master Adolf Anderssen, who had done wonders and taken the so-called romantic
style to lofty summits, leaving us such works as the Immortal Game and the Evergreen Game,
was the only one capable of opposing Morphy with what could be called organized resistance,
during what would be the crisis of his life, the over the board confrontation with the young
prodigy from Louisiana. According to Vázquez, Morphy’s opponents in Havana fought
against him with a “noble rage,” although, of course, none of the Cuban adversaries could
beat him during that first trip. Actually, Morphy’s appearance “ended the tyranny of dogma
and the lordship of inspiration,” wrote the Argentinean essayist Ezequiel Martínez Estrada
who was right on target when he said in La Nación (Buenos Aires, April 15, 1939) that Mor-
phy’s overall sense of chess was superior to his personal capacity for playing it, a concept that
later could be applied word for word to José Raúl Capablanca.
And such was the legend among them; many articles were written, filled with admiration
and praise, and continued to be published even after the genius’s farewell, on his trip to the
Spanish port of Cádiz as a stopover on his return to Paris. The November 1, 1862, issue of
another important paper of the city, Diario de la Marina, published an account of Morphy’s
voyage to Spain:
DEPARTURE—in the mail steamship that set sail for the Peninsula yesterday, Mr. Morphy, the
king of chess players, shipped out, after leaving from his short stay with us the most pleasant of
memories among everyone who met him, and most particularly the aficionados of the aforemen-
tioned game. They, having enjoyed the good times that he provided, would have wished that he
had not left so soon. Many other passengers who came with Mr. Morphy from New Orleans also
sailed out in that steamer. To all of them we wish a happy trip.
And four days before, on October 27, El Siglo briefly described a farewell banquet in honor
of the guest:
MORPHY GET-TOGETHER—Given a few days ago at the L’Hermitage hotel, the place that’s
becoming fashionable for sumptuous dinners, costing an ounce of gold for the cover charge, and
it is said that it was splendid, both in delicacies and wines. There was only one true guest, Mr.
Morphy, and perhaps another friend of the gentleman that promoted the event.
Morphy left behind a trail whose consequences would be deeper than those of Maelzel’s
dummy in Turkish garb.26 At the weighty price of their crushing defeats, the Cuban chess
players understood that they were part of a universe previously unknown to them. Sensing
that they had assimilated the new doctrines, like sorcerer’s apprentices they wanted to test
their new powers. However, they soon realized how far they had fallen behind in the organ-
ized development of chess, because their salons in private homes or business premises, such
as pharmacies (called boticas in Cuba), would never be a broad or solid base for the game.
A year after Morphy’s first visit, a place was rented for a chess club on 90 Obispo Street, so
that aficionados would have a chance to meet, but apparently it didn’t last long. Other
attempts had similar results. So pharmacies and jewelers’ shops, instead of private residences,
became the top hangouts for Havana’s chess players for the next two decades following Mor-
phy’s last visit to the island’s capital in 1864, until the official establishment of the Havana
Chess Club in 1885.27
Between Morphy’s first and second visits, the last one being much briefer, in 1864, the
Habanero chess players created the previously mentioned club, known as the Chess Circle,
as stated in an article published by Moro Muza on October 26, 1864. In it, the magazine’s
editor admits that the aficionados’ worst enemy was the apathy about visiting the space that
had been rented, although several members, in an attempt to interest more people in chess,
had offered free night classes. The effort languished through general indifference. Havana’s
chess players had the pleasure of seeing and facing Morphy a second, and last, time in February
1864, when, after a complicated sailing schedule on his return to New Orleans, he boarded
a French vessel that left him in the southeastern city of Santiago de Cuba, around February
6 or 7. His presence there was reported almost immediately by the newspaper Diario de
Cuba, in its February 9 issue:
On board the French steamer, on his way to Havana and New Orleans, has arrived the king of
chess players, the famous Mr. Morphy, who has finished a tour of Europe without finding anyone
to beat him in such a noble, beautiful and difficult game. Mr. Morphy will continue his voyage,
our sources say, on the steamship Águila.
The dispatch was reproduced in the Cuban cap-
ital by the newspapers Prensa de la Habana and El Siglo
on February 16, as the arrival of the ship was expected,
so this time the Havana chess players had the oppor-
tunity to prepare a welcome reception for the illustri-
ous visitor, organized once again by Francisco Fésser,
at his mansion, and scheduled for the day after the
docking.
Morphy had no choice but to stay at a hotel that
Vázquez qualified simply as second class, a downgrade
easily understood in light of the economic setbacks
suffered by his family as a consequence of the American
Civil War. It was later known that Morphy, before leav-
ing Paris, was forced to pawn the expensive gold watch
that was given to him as a present in New York after
his return from Europe in 1859, and he never redeemed
it. The newspaper El Tiempo, in its February 18 issue,
described the reception this way:
Celso Golmayo arrived in Cuba as an The wealthy banker Mr. Francisco Fésser offered a
anonymous Spanish colonial func- sumptuous banquet on Tuesday honoring the famous
tionary, but became famous as one chess player Mr. Morphy, who will be departing for
of the most illustrious masters and
New Orleans today. Naturally, most of the guests were
promoters of chess on the island. He
is one of the few players whom his- enthusiasts of the noble game in which Mr. Morphy is
tory remembers as winning against unrivaled, notwithstanding many of the most beautiful
Morphy (after receiving odds). He ladies of our good society. Before dinner, he played a
also played against Capablanca game with Mr. Sicre, giving him knight odds. After that
when the latter was a child, giving he [Morphy] played several [blindfold] games with
him odds (El Pablo Morphy, Volume Messrs. [Paulino] Domínguez, Golmayo and Sicre from
I, number 2, page 19, 1892). memory, while holding at the same time a lively conver-
sation with Mr. Fésser’s numerous relatives. He won all matches and received rounds of applause
every time that his exhausted adversaries surrendered and thanked him. The meeting ended at
eleven o’clock with everyone retiring, very pleased with the hosts’ warm reception and fine treat-
ment. Among the guests were Messrs. [ Juan Martínez] Villergas, Golmayo, Sicre, [Plácido]
Domínguez, [Pedro] Palmer, well known for their love of the difficult game and Messrs.
[Canuto] Valdés, Céspedes,28 La Calle, Díaz Albertini and others whose names now escape us.
This time, despite the shortness of the stay, not more than three days, Havana’s news-
papers dedicated considerable space to cover his activities. Moro Muza magazine ran a very
long article, in its February 21 issue, titled “Here You Have Him,” printed when the ship in
which Morphy had sailed was actually approaching the United States coast. Thanks to that
article we know that Morphy visited and faced aficionados from the capital at the homes of
two renowned gentlemen, Aureliano Medina and Abel Hamel, besides the reception in his
honor at the Fésser mansion. It was during that trip that Morphy met Cuba’s new chess star,
the Spaniard Celso Golmayo Zúpide, recently appointed to a fiscal post on the island. True
to himself, Morphy faced him, giving him the odds of a knight, but after losing three out of
five games, confessed that Golmayo was too strong for that kind of offer and the most that
could be offered would be the odds of pawn and one or two moves. For its historical character,
more than for its chess value, we reproduce a convincing Golmayo Zúpide victory which
taught Morphy that it was not possible to face him with such a handicap.
Paul Morphy–Celso Golmayo Zúpide [C38]

Odds Game, Havana, 1864
Remove White’s queen’s knight
1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. 0–0 d6 6. c3 rDbDkDw4
h6 7. Qb3 Qd7 8. d4 Nc6 9. Qc2 Nge7 10. h4 g4 11. Nh2 g3 0p0whpgw
12. Nf3 Qg4 13. h5 Q×h5 14. B×f4 (see diagram) wDn0wDw0
Better is 14. Qd1. Golmayo does not miss the opportunity DwDwDwDq
given to him by his powerful adversary. 14. ... N×d4! 15. Qd1 If wDB)PGwD
15. N×d4 Qh2 mate; if 15. c×d4 B×d4+.15. ... N×f3+ 16. R×f3 Dw)wDN0w
Qh2+ Another way to win was 16. ... Qc5+ 17. Re3 Q×c4. 17. Kf1 P)QDwDPD
Qh1+ 18. Ke2 Q×g2+ 19. Ke1 Bg4 White resigned. There is $wDwDRIw
nothing to do. If 20. Qa4+ Kd8 21. R×g3 Q×e4+ 22. Be3 Nf5 After 14. B×f4
winning more material. 0–1.
It is important to point out that although Golmayo Zúpide won that series against
Morphy by almost the minimum difference, several years later, in April 1888, he wrote the
following for the magazine Charleston Chess Chronicle: “In many games with Morphy at the
odds of a knight, I became hopelessly bewildered by the brilliancy and intricacy of his com-
binations, but when I sit down with Steinitz on even terms I feel as though I had a very
respectable chance to win.”
Either because the plans were well under way or because Morphy’s visit was once again
a great incentive for the small group that promoted chess in Havana, a new place for its
practice was open above Marte y Belona, a popular downtown café. Another favorable devel-
opment resulting from his brief stay in the city was that El Moro Muza magazine added a
chess column to its pages, although its editor, Juan Martínez Villergas, admitted that game
transcriptions were going to leave many of the readers in the dark, and assured those who
would not understand that “there are excellent things in those semi-cabalistic letters.”
Notably absent this time was the young black slave José María Sicre. Not a single article
from that period mentions his being in the presence of Morphy again. As a matter of fact,
to set the record straight, neither did any of Havana’s newspapers published in 1862 report
what, at the time, was the unheard-of event of a slave facing a representative of the white
masters in the refined game of chess. The participation of that slave at the home of Blas Du
Bouchet was a private and confidential act that no one dared publish when it took place. It
was kept secret in Cuba, though not in the United States, as we have already seen, until
Vázquez published the game in El Fígaro, on March 26, 1893. When Vázquez finally revealed
the story, the world took notice; the Frenchman Numa Petri reproduced it in La Stratégie
on May 15, 1893, and the world champion himself, William Steinitz, echoed the event and
commented on the match in June of the same year in one of his columns at the New York
Daily Tribune.
At the end of the 1860s, conditions for chess were no longer favorable, since the armed
uprising started in 1868 by Carlos Manuel de Céspedes and other pro-independence fighters
involved the country in a long and bloody war. Among the factors that contributed to the
virtual extinction of the pastime in Havana were Du Bouchet’s demise in 1870, Sicre’s in
1871 and Céspedes’ on the battlefield, in 1874; as well as the departure for exile of Mendive,
Fésser and especially Andrés Clemente Vázquez, in 1869. When the latter boarded the
steamer Panamá, bound for Veracruz, on March 9 of that year, chess on the island fell into
a protracted lethargy, after losing its main promoter and most genuine voice. Only Celso
Golmayo and Dionisio Martínez, a new name, kept the flame of chess alive with their con-
frontations. That stupor went on for the next 14 years, until Steinitz arrived on Cuban shores
in late February or early March 1883. After the hostilities ended between late 1878 and early
1879, calm was not fully restored on the island to prewar levels, and what ensued was a
period that the pro-independence leader José Martí called “turbulent rest,” which continued
as late as 1895, when Cubans once again rose in arms against Spain.
During that exodus of Havana’s Creole intellectual community, which began in 1868,
the Spaniards based on the island were the only ones in a position to continue fostering the
practice of chess. Therefore, it is hardly surprising that the next step was taken exclusively
by island-based notables of the Spanish colonial power, such as Golmayo Zúpide and Vicente
Martínez Carvajal. Both were supported in their quest to open a local playing site by the
city’s postal administrator, Ramón L. Ayala. This was evidenced by an invitation sent by the
latter to a renowned Spaniard of the city’s political circles, Felipe Lima, to attend the inau-
guration of the new Chess Circle place:
D. Felipe Lima
My dear sir, several chess aficionados, among them Messrs. Golmayo, Carbajal [sic], Arias, etc.,
have planned to form a Circle or Society dedicated exclusively to the enjoyable pastime, and
knowing my special predilection for that game, have brought to my attention that the post office
quarters assigned to the administrator constitute the best location that could be put to use to
that effect.
With pleasure I have offered my house to those gentlemen and, as authorized by them and on
their behalf, have the honor of inviting you to the meetings which for that purpose are to be
held every holiday, [Saturday and Sunday] starting at 9 p.m.
It is the wish of this association’s promoters to welcome all chess aficionados, and that being
the case, you are fully empowered to extend this invitation to any friends of yours who meet the
expressed requirements. I must also inform you that the inaugural session will be held on Sun-
day, the 24th of the present month.
To that effect, I sincerely place myself once again at your disposition as a friend and humble
servant,
Ramón L. de Ayala
October 12, 1875 [courtesy of Ignacio Granados].
Another proof of the Spaniards residents’ will to prevent the love of chess from dying
out was the attempt to create a special salon for the practice of the game at the Military
Circle, a news item that went beyond merely local interest and was published by the magazine
Brooklyn Chess Chronicle, on August 1, 1883:
The news comes from Havana that Messrs. Golmayo, Carvajal, Hidalgo and other players
belonging to the Chess Department of the Union Club, have the project of establishing a chess
club in the Circulo Militar. Thus a special locality will be afforded to the lovers of chess, and the
management being in the hand of gentlemen, we hope, for the sake of the noble game, that this
good idea will not be abandoned.29
Both Golmayo (a native of Logroño, currently capital of the autonomous region of La
Rioja) and Martínez Carvajal (born in Almería, capital of the Andalusian province with the
same name) arrived in Havana during the second half of the 19th century. Golmayo arrived
in 1863, as a fiscal lieutenant, and Carvajal, in 1865, as chief of a third-class department at
the Ministry of Promotion. Later, both were raised to higher positions. Golmayo was named
chief of the Administrative Court in 1887 and was later appointed governor of the Matanzas
province in 1894 and 1895, while Carvajal was promoted to customs inspector in the cities
of Matanzas and Cienfuegos. Golmayo married Celestina de la Torriente y Ceballos, a Cuban,
very wealthy by birth on both sides of her family. One of her relatives, Cosme de la Torriente,
would become a legend in Cuban diplomacy at the beginning of the Republic. He was the
man who gave José Raúl Capablanca a post in the Foreign Service. Carvajal, for his part, left
an indelible mark on Cuba, not only in matters of chess, but also because his daughter, Laura
Carvajal del Camino, whom he had with the Spaniard Elisa del Camino, would become the
first woman to graduate from the Medical School at the University of Havana, and the first
female to practice officially as a doctor in Cuba.30
The presence of both Golmayo and Carvajal had an enormous importance in the history
of chess on the island, but they by themselves were not able to offset the death or exodus
of pro-independence Creoles for fifteen years after 1868. Francisco Fésser, for instance, fled
to New York after being accused of plotting against Spain. There he joined the Cuban
Patriotic Board and participated in financing armed expeditions to the island. His name
appears as treasurer in the first war bonds issued by the representatives of the Cuban
government in exile, valued at one thousand pesos (a peso was equal in value to a U.S. dollar),
and offered for sale in New York in 1870. On March 10, 1869, the Spanish military authorities
in Cuba sentenced Fésser in absentia to death by garrote (étrangler), an execution style
that in Spain was considered “more humane and less painful than the gallows.” The long list
published that day also included Carlos Manuel de Céspedes among those sentenced to
death.
Others who were also sent into forced exile were Rafael María de Mendive, who in
1853 had pioneered the publishing of chess problems in Cuba; and Arturo del Monte, a reg-
ular of the salons at the home of Francisco del Hoyo, which were known as the Petit Club,
reflecting a rather Frenchified trend that was very typical in Havana in those days, a time
when no self-respecting Habanero would call the parties at private homes anything but
soirées.31 But in this particular case, Petit was not a Frenchified snobbism but the surname
of one of the Havana chess patrons. From 1879 to 1885, Havana’s chess players, among them
many who had returned from exile, or had been released from prison as a result of a general
amnesty decreed in 1885, sought a way to meet again in order to play chess. The first sig-
nificant event of that new phase happened when Vázquez returned to Havana for a few weeks
in 1882, and faced Golmayo and Carvajal in short series. Later, in February 1883, Wilhelm
Steinitz came to Havana, specifically invited to play a short series with Golmayo; it was a
visit of great importance, but remained almost unknown,32 not having been mentioned until
now in the annals of chess history on the island.
It seems likely that Steinitz contacted Havana’s chess players through Dionisio (Dion)
M. Martínez, an affluent Cuban Creole who abandoned the island once and for all in 1872
and settled in Philadelphia. Dionisio was one of the main rivals of Celso Golmayo after
Sicre’s death and Vazquez’s departure for Mexico. Martínez promoted the first chess match
by mail in Cuba by proposing such an encounter to Adolfo Moliner, who would later serve
for many years as secretary of the Havana Chess Club. That was documented in an exchange
of letters between the two of them, published by the Havana newspaper El Tiempo, and the
American club received afterwards an official challenge from the island.33 In Philadelphia,
Martínez played several matches against Steinitz in 1882 and 1883, losing all of them, but
the following game stands out:
Wilhelm Steinitz–Dionisio M. Martínez [C25]

Match, 2nd Game, Philadelphia, 1882
1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. d4 The Steinitz Gambit. But few modern players are
willing to expose their king this way, so it is rarely seen today.
rDwDkDn4 4. ... Qh4+ 5. Ke2 b6 Nowadays the main line is 5. ... d6 6. Nf3
0w0pDpgp Bg4 7. B×f4 0–0–0 8. Ke3 Qh5 9. Be2 g5 10. N×g5 Nf6 11. h3
w0wDwDwD B×e2 12. Q×e2 Qg6 13. d5 (13. b4!?) 13. ... Ne5 14. Nf3 Bh6
DPDw)w0q 15. B×h6 Q×h6+ 16. Kf2 Rhg8 and Black is better (Barle–Por-
w)wDQ0wD tisch, Portorož-Ljubljana 1975). 6. Nb5 Ba6 7. a4 g5 8. Nf3 Qh5
Dw)wDPDw 9. Kf2 B×b5 10. a×b5 N×d4 11. c3 N×f3 Better is 11. … Ne6!
wDwDKDw) with advantage. 12. g×f3? Better is 12. Q×f3. 12. … Bc5+ and
$wGwDBDR Black has a much better game. 13. Ke2 Nf6 14. e5 Ng8 15. b4
After 17. Qe4 Bf8 16. Qd4 Bg7 17. Qe4 (see diagram)
17. ... Rc8 Better is 17. ... Rd8 18. h4 Ne7 19. Bh3 Ng6
wDrDkDwD 20. h×g5 Q×g5 21. R×a7 B×e5 with advantage to Black. 18. h4
DR0wDwDR Qg6 19. h×g5 Q×e4+ 20. f×e4 B×e5 Now Black has only very
w)wDpDwD little advantage. 21. R×a7 Ne7 22. c4 Ng6 23. Bh3 Nf8 24. Rd1
Dw0wgwDw Ne6 25. c5 d6 26. Rb7 Rg8 27. B×e6 f×e6 28. Rh1 Better is
wDwDP0wD 28. c×b6 c×b6 29. Rf1 Rg7 30. R×b6 Rc2+ 31. Kd1 Rc4
DwDwDw4w 32. Rb8+ Kd7 33. Rb7+ Rc7 34. Rb6 Rf7 35. Ra6 with a small
wDwDKDwD Black advantage. 28. ... d×c5 29. b×c5 b×c5 30. R×h7? Better
DwGwDwDw is 30. Rh5 Ke7 31. Ra7! and White can save this endgame. 30. ...
After 33. Ke2 R×g5 31. b6 Rg2+ 32. Kf3 Rg3+ 33. Ke2 (see diagram)
33. ... Rb3 With a winning advantage. 34. Rh5 f3+ 35. Kd1 wDw4kDwD
Rd8+ 36. Kc2 Rc3+ 37. Kb1 (see diagram) DR0wDwDw
37. ... R×c1+ Better is 37. ... Rd1 38. Rb8+ Kf7 39. Rh7+ w)wDpDwD
Kg6 40. Rh6+ Kg7 41. R×e6 Rd×c1+ And mate in 10 moves: Dw0wgwDR
42. Ka2 R1c2+ 43. Kb1 f2 44. Re7+ Kf6 45. Rf8+ K×e7 wDwDPDwD
46. b×c7 Rc4 47. Re8+ Kf7 48. Rf8+ Kg6 49. R×f2 R×f2 50. c8Q Dw4wDpDw
Rb2+ 51. Ka1 Ra4 mate. 38. K×c1 f2 39. Rh1 c×b6 40. R×b6 wDwDwDwD
Kf7 41. Rf1 Bd4 42. Kd2 Kf6 43. Ke2 Rg8 44. Kf3 Ke5 45. Rc6 DKGwDwDw
Rf8+ 46. Ke2 Rf4 47. Kd3 Rf3+ 48. Ke2 Rh3 Better is 48. … After 37. Kb1
Re3! winning. 49. Kd2 Better is 49. R×f2 B×f2 50. K×f2 and if
now 50. ... K×e4 51. R×c5 with a draw. 49. ... Rh4 50. Kd3 Rf4 51. Ra6 Rf3+ 52. Kd2 Rf6
53. Kd3 Kf4 54. Ra2 Kf3 55. e5 Rf5 56. Re2 c4+ 57. Kd2 c3+ 58. Kd1 If 58. Kd3 Kg2
59. Rb1 R×e5 60. R×f2+ B×f2 and Martínez has a completely winning position. 58. ... Kg2
It is significant that Dionisio Martínez was the second Cuban (if we consider the Félix
Sicre–Morphy game of 1862) to face the world’s best player under equal conditions. More
important than the possible significance of these personal matches is that he was one of the
founding members and president of the Philadelphia Chess Club, when it was established
at the corner of Franklin and Race streets in February 1880. Likewise, he was a founding
member and first president of the Franklin Chess Club at the time it was organized in the
same city, in October 1885. His patronage started a tradition that was later followed by
another Cuban, also a chess sponsor, the merchant Arístides Martínez (we do not know if
they were related) who headed the Manhattan Chess Club in New York, but with a significant
difference: whereas Dionisio rejected in 1887 the wishes of the club’s membership to reelect
him president for a fourth consecutive term, replying, “This position should not be monop-
olized,” Arístides held his mandate for 22 years.34
Dionisio Martínez was born in the city of Matanzas, about 102 kilometers (63 miles)
east of Havana, on the same Cuban north coast. He amassed a great fortune, possibly from
his invention of a gun sight for firearms that appears with number 168.404 in the United
States Patents Registry. But just like other well-off Cubans, his wealth was also linked to the
sugar trade. Besides that, he ran an import/export business at the Philadelphia port, as per
his own business card.35 In the late 1880s, when he participated rather badly in the New York
international tournament of 1889 (Sixth American Chess Congress), his financial situation,
following the decline in sugar prices, was apparently no longer very comfortable, as hinted
by a description given by the New York Times on June 16, 1889: “Martínez of Philadelphia
is rather an elderly gentleman, tall and dignified. He was regarded as one of the strongest
chess players in Philadelphia, but has not practiced much for two years past, and financial
adversities have tended to distract his mind from the game.”36
Steinitz valued very highly the playing strength of Dionisio Martínez, to the point of
highlighting him as one of the world’s best chess players, as published in the April 1883 issue
of the magazine Turf, Field and Farm, in a surprising reply to the question of who he con-
sidered the strongest living players: “Zukertort, Martínez and Mackenzie, Mason too....”37
It would be easy to conclude that Steinitz was trying to flatter the man who made possible
his first trip to America, but Steinitz never had such high praises for Randolph Churchill,
to whom he gave private lessons; or for Baron Albert Rothschild, from whose largesse he
possibly benefited. Truth is that Steinitz treated Dionisio Martínez with extreme courtesy. A
clear example happened during Steinitz’s 1886 match against Zukertort in New York, at which
time Martínez traveled from Philadelphia to see them play, and Steinitz had a chair placed
for him next to the chess table, to the surprise and perplexity of many in the audience, who
had no idea who was the venerable gentleman thus honored by Steinitz. He had done some-
thing similar three years before, during the London tournament of 1883, and had Randolph
Churchill seated next to him on the day he played against Zukertort. That deference from
Steinitz towards Martínez shows that the Cuban was one of the leading bettors on the match,
besides playing an essential role in the handling of the finances for the match. In Kurt Lands-
berger’s edited work The Steinitz Papers, a compilation of letters and documents, Martínez
is identified as the leading investor for the Steinitz–Zukertort match, to the tune of $850.
As a chess patron, Dionisio Martínez was unquestionably one of the game’s leading
promoters in Philadelphia during the late 19th century. Besides his matches against Steinitz,
he had distinguished himself years earlier, in 1874, in the series that he lost by a narrow
margin of 3–4 against the English master James Mason, whom he later defeated in an 1875
rematch, scoring 3–1. His most important victory was recorded that same year, when he beat
Captain Mackenzie by 3–2. In other scores, he tied 1–1 against the Romanian master Adolf
Albin. He also played, and lost, two brief matches against the German master Emanuel
Lasker before the latter became world champion.
Dionisio M. Martínez–Johannes H. Zukertort [C52]

Match, Philadelphia 1884
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. b4 The Evans Gambit, named after the Welsh sea
captain William Davies Evans, the first player known to have employed it, in 1827. 4. ...
B×b4 5. c3 Ba5 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 d×c3 A recent example between grandmasters is 7. ...
Nge7 8. Ng5 d5 9. e×d5 Ne5 10. Bb3 0–0 11. N×h7 K×h7 12. Qh5+ Kg8 13. Q×e5 Nf5
14. Bd2 c5 15. d×c6 b×c6 16. Re1 Bc7 17. Qe4 Qf6 18. Bf4 1⁄2–1⁄2, Short–Adams, Sarajevo
2000. 8. Qb3 Qf6 9. e5 Qg6 10. N×c3 Nge7 11. Ba3 0–0 12. Ne2 Or 12. Rad1 Re8 13. Bd3
Qh5 14. Ne4 N×e5 15. N×e5 Q×e5 16. Bb2 Qe6 17. Qb5 and
according to Em. Lasker, White has a better position. 12. ... b5 w4bDriwD
12. ... Re8 13. Nf4 Qf5 14. g3 Ng6 15. Ng5 has also been played 0w0phw0p
as in P. Ilyes–Szoukup, correspondence game, 1980. And now wDnDwDwD
Black can play 15. …Ng×e5! winning. 13. B×b5 Re8 14. Bd3 DwDw)wDw
Qh5 15. Ng3 Qg4 16. Bc4 Stronger is 16. h3 Qf4 17. Ne2 Qh6 wgBDwDwD
18. Bc1 Rb8 19. B×h6 R×b3 20. a×b3 g×h6 21. Bb5 with a great GwDwDNHw
advantage. 16. ... Rb8 17. B×f7+ Kf8 18. Qc4 Q×c4 19. B×c4 PDwDw)P)
Bb4 (see diagram) $wDwDRIw
Better is 19. ... Bc3 20. Rac1 B×e5 21. N×e5 N×e5 22. Bb3 After 19. … Bb4
Rb7 23. f4 Nd3 24. Rc3 Nb4 25. B×b4 R×b4 26. R×c7 but White
is still better. 20. Ng5! Nice and strong. White gets a big advantage. 20. ... g6 21. Bb2 Bd2
22. N×h7+ Kg7 23. Nf6 Rh8 24. Bb3 Bf4 25. Ng4 Rh4 26. h3 R×g4 Zukertort is looking
to complicate the position, because if 26. ... Kf8 27. Rab1 Rb5 28. Rfe1 d5 29. e×d6 B×d6
30. Bf6 with an extra pawn and a better position. 27. h×g4 B×e5 28. B×e5+ N×e5 29. Rfe1
N7c6 30. f3 d6 31. Rec1 Bd7 32. Rc3 Rb6 33. Rac1 Ra6 34. Ne4 Kf8 35. g5 Kg7 36. Re1
Be8? This speeds up the end, but there were no longer good prospects for Black. 37. f4
Nd7 38. N×d6 c×d6 39. R×e8 Nc5 As useless as any other move; White mates in two.
40. Rg8+ Kh7 41. Rh3 mate. 1–0.
In Cuban chess history, Dionisio Martínez was mentioned as the main rival of
Golmayo in 1871 and 1872, before he left the island. His name also appears as the first native
of Cuba to participate in a United States tournament, the Third American Congress of
1874 in Chicago. Of equal historical relevance is the fact that at the end of that competition,
Martínez was elected to one of the two vice-presidencies of the American Chess Feder-
ation.38 If it was thanks to him, as we surmise, that Steinitz went to Cuba, then his contri-
bution not only to chess on the island, but worldwide, was as extraordinary as is the fact
it was later forgotten. Without Steinitz’s visits to Cuba the glorious Eldorado era would
never have happened. And perhaps a brigadier general would never have invited his assistant
to play chess, nor would his aide, an obscure lieutenant, have become more interested in
learning the game, in which case, a restless little boy would not have had the chance to
tinker with the strange figurines that his father and the visitor were moving around the
board.
For Steinitz, the first trip to the United States, classified as exploratory by some, was
so profitable that he decided to move to America. As a matter of fact, he didn’t feel at ease
in London, where he was treated as a “foreigner,” and neither could he return to Vienna,
whence he had received disturbing news of persecutions of Jews. So at the end of his American
tour, Cuba included, he returned to England, but was already determined to settle for good
in New York or Philadelphia.
In London, he played in the international tournament held there in 1883, where to his
discomfort, he finished behind Zukertort. Finally, in October 1883, he abandoned England
and sailed again to New York, leaving behind his family for the next two years, until they
could join him on the other side of the Atlantic.
Today, there is no question that Steinitz’s exhibits in the Philadelphia Chess Club were
funded mostly by Dionisio Martínez, as stated by the magazine Brooklyn Chess Chronicle,
published by the Venezuelan-born brothers Juan and Enrique Muñoz.39 Steinitz also went
to Baltimore and New Orleans, but even before those engagements, the Muñoz brothers
announced in their bulletin that the master, born in the kingdom of Bohemia, at the time
part of the Austrian empire, had been invited to visit Havana. It was almost certain that he
would accept the invitation, and so he did.
On Saturday, February 24, 1883, Steinitz departed from New York aboard the Saratoga
en route to Cuba, along with W.M. Visser, one of the Manhattan Chess Club’s best-known
players, and a member of its executive board for many years, and landed in Havana on
Wednesday, February 28. Steinitz’s arrival in Havana was a milestone in the history of chess
on the island, since it was the first time that anyone as renowned as he was had visited Cuba,
by special invitation of the local aficionados, to play against the local experts and offer
exhibits. Morphy’s stays, by contrast, were only stopovers to and from Europe.
His welcoming reception on the docks was so warm and colorful that the Brooklyn
Chess Chronicle called it an “extraordinary ceremony.” Steinitz was thrilled when he laid eyes
on the brightly decorated boat, with 12 elegantly uniformed black oarsmen, who went to
pick him up at the Saratoga steamship. On board were Emilio J. Hidalgo and another uniden-
tified member of the local chess club. His stay was not ignored by the New York Times, which
reported in its March 13, 1883, issue from the Cuban capital:
STEINITZ PLAYING CHESS IN HAVANA . Havana, March 12.—The distinguished chess player, Mr.
Steinitz, is playing every afternoon and evening at the Union Club in this city with those who
wish to measure their strength with his. Thus far he has maintained his supremacy, and the other
night he beat four accomplished amateurs, he having played with all four at the same time and
without looking at the boards.
From the moment he landed, Steinitz charmed his hosts because instead of requesting
a day or two to recover from the voyage, he left his luggage at the Hotel Inglaterra and that
very same night visited the Union Club. He played one blindfold game against Emilio J.
Hidalgo, defeating him in what was classified as a brilliant game.40 According to the American
reporter J.P. Lea, whose story datelined Havana was published by Turf, Field and Farm on
March 9, 1883, Steinitz gave the image of a fully satisfied man, comfortably seated on a plush
sofa, thanking his hosts with abundant courtesies for the hospitality, affection and respect
bestowed on him. That was the first historical reference to Havana Union Club’s participation
as a sponsor of chess events, a tradition that was to continue for several decades. The insti-
tution was located at that time in one of the intersections of Zulueta and Neptuno streets.
In fact, many important events, such as several games of Steinitz’s matches against Chigorin,
were celebrated at those halls, alternating with those at the Centro Asturiano, including the
inaugural game of the Lasker–Capablanca match of 1921.
Created in the image and likeness of the institution of the same name founded in New
York in 1836, the Union Club was an exclusive spot for upper-class Cuban gentlemen. Its
sponsorship of chess was one more element contributing to the royal game’s boom in
Cuba after 1883, when Steinitz made his first visit.41 However, the Union Club had from
the start the great disadvantage of being a very exclusive private institution, whose doors
were closed even to many who could afford its high monthly membership fees but lacked
the social status to be admitted. Although the management was in Creole hands, there were
also Spaniards, and American and British members. The site had the distinct flavor of an
old London gentlemen’s club, and that musty air of nobility made it irresistible to the island’s
gentrified millionaires. It would have been possible in those days to write a Who’s Who in
Havana just by copying its membership list. The interest of Golmayo and Carvajal lay in
promoting chess beyond the premises of the Union Club, which they both attended, in order
to sponsor greater events, the first of which was the visit of Steinitz and Visser. The latter
was invited for the purpose of establishing closer relations with American chess, although
it seems that strong private business interests also influenced his decision to accompany
Steinitz to Cuba.
A note from Havana, by a reporter for the Brooklyn Chess Chronicle, who signed with
the pen named “Peón” (Spanish for pawn, in the original, although at times just the figure
of the piece appeared as signature), implicitly asserted the wish to democratize, when explain-
ing that besides the Union Club, the Military Circle and the Spanish Casino, all of them
members-only institutions, the city’s chess players used to meet in the back room of Valentín
Corujo’s jewelry store on O’Reilly Street. The list of attendants included Golmayo, Carvajal,
Fiol, Gavilán, Medina, Toscano and many others who later became names that appeared reg-
ularly as rivals of Steinitz, Chigorin, Gunsberg, Mackenzie, Blackburne and Lasker when
the latter played simultaneous games or gave exhibits in the island’s capital. 42
During his more than three weeks’ stay on the island, Steinitz again faced Celso Gol-
mayo, whom he knew from the 1867 Paris tournament. Steinitz defeated the Spaniard in
that tournament, but in an offhand game played at the Café de la Régence, shortly before
starting the competition, Golmayo won in a very elegant way, using a combination that took
him to a finish of passed pawns against a rook unable to stop them. The encounter enjoyed
a certain international resonance and was published by the French magazine La Stratégie,
on page 128 of that year’s Volume I. Sadly for Golmayo, his victory alerted Steinitz to his
capabilities.
Celso Golmayo Zúpide–Wilhelm Steinitz [C45]

Paris, 1 June 1867
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 Exchanging
again without any need a bishop for a knight; better seems 14. Bf4. 14. ... 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 wDwDwDwD
26. Red1 Qe5? A blunder; correct was 26. ... Be5. 27. R×d4! 0wDrDpDw
Q×d4 28. Rd1 Qg7 29. Nf6+ Kh8 30. N×d7 Rbd8 31. Nf6 PDwDwDpD
R×d1+ 32. B×d1 Re1+ 33. Kh2 Qh6 If 33. ... R×d1 34. Qa8+ DNDwiwDw
and mate in two moves. 34. Nd5 Qd2 Better is 34. ... Qg7 wDBDwDw0
although White holds the advantage. 35. Q×c3+ Q×c3 DPDwDPDP
36. N×c3 Re7 37. Be2 Rd7 38. Bc4 Rd2 39. f3 Kg7 40. a4 h4 wDwDwDPI
41. Nb5 Rd7 42. a5 Kf6 43. a6 Ke5 (see diagram) DwDwDwDw
44. f4+! The beginning of a beautiful finish. White moves After 43. … Ke5
the Black king away from the queenside. 44. ... 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. b8=Q Black
resigned. 1–0.
For his exhibitions in Havana, Steinitz received 500 pesos, plus travel and accommo-
dation expenses, fostering the envy of many in the world of chess, who failed to understand
why the master from Bohemia, and not themselves, was paid that kind of money. Steinitz
had the good fortune of not meeting the fate of Leonardo da Cutri’s Il Puttino (The Little
One), who was poisoned in 1586 by sore losers after receiving several gifts from Spanish
King Felipe II and the Portuguese King Don Sebastián, because of his crushing victories
over Ruy López and Il Moro (The Moor), another master of the era.
Steinitz considered visiting the city of Matanzas, but changed his mind at the last
minute, as documented in a note published on March 30, 1883, by Turf, Field and Farm:
“Mr. Steinitz unexpectedly arrived from Cuba on Monday last week, his stay on that island
having been shortened by reason of his having not visited Matanzas as he had planned....”
In that city (Dionisio Martínez’s birthplace), there was great chess activity at its Lyceum,
whose literary bulletin included chess news, games and problems. Some of the games played
by Steinitz in Havana were published there.43
Steinitz won his match against Golmayo by the wide margin of 8 wins, 1 loss and 1
draw, but the encounter served to prove that the Spaniard master was a serious rival, even
though he had no quality opponents to face on the island, excepting Martínez Carvajal, who
did not reside in Havana, but in Matanzas and later in Cienfuegos, a city on the southern
coast of Cuba and even farther from Havana. That summer, Golmayo had traveled to the
United States for extensive medical treatment at the thermal baths of Saratoga Springs, in
upstate New York. In passing through the city, he had visited the Manhattan Chess Club.
Little is known about his health conditions at the time of the Bohemian master’s visit. But
the way he conducted the following game against Steinitz is an example of his fine positional
and strategic sense, as well as his ample knowledge of endings.
Celso Golmayo Zúpide–Wilhelm Steinitz [C45]

Match, 3rd Game, Havana, March 1883
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Qh4 A favorite of Steinitz; in the Big Data-
base 2012 there are 18 of his games in which he used this move, winning 11, losing 3 and
drawing 4. The favorite moves nowadays are 4. ... Nf6; and 4. ... Bc5. 5. Nf3 Modern mas-
ters prefer 5. Nc3 Bb4 6. Be2 Q×e4 (or 6. ... B×c3+ 7. b×c3 Nf6 8. 0–0 N×d4 9. c×d4
N×e4 10. Ba3 d5 11. Qe1 Be6 12. Rb1 Nd6 13. Qc3 0–0–0 14. Ba6 with a better game for
White). 7. Ndb5 B×c3+ 8. b×c3 Kd8 9. 0–0 Nf6 10. Re1 Re8 11. Be3 d6 12. Rb1 Bd7 13. c4
Ne5 14. c5 Bc6 15. Bf1 Qg6 16. Nd4 Bd5 17. Bf4 Nfd7 18. Bg3 d×c5 19. Nb5 Be4 20. Qd2
f5 21. f3 f4 22. Q×f4 B×c2 23. Rbc1 with a winning position, G. Vescovi–A. Rodríguez,
São Paulo 2005). 5. ... Q×e4+ 6. Be2 Bb4+ (or 6. … Qe7). 7. c3 Be7 8. 0–0 Nf6
9. Re1 Qd5 A new move. Earlier it had been 9. ... 0–0 10. Bd3 Qg4 11. h3 Qh5 12 .Nbd2
d5 13. Nf1 Bd6 14. Ng3 B×g3 15. f×g3 d4 16. Bg5 d×c3 17. b×c3 h6 18. g4 B×g4
19. h×g4 N×g4 20. Be3 Rad8 21. Qc2 Nce5 22. Bf5? (much
rDbDw4kD better is 22. Bd4 N×f3+ 23. g×f3 c5 24. Re4 with advantage
0p0pgp0p to White) 22. ... N×f3+ 23. g×f3 N×e3 24. R×e3 Qg5+
wDw1whwD 25. Kf2 Rd5 26. Bd3 (better is 26. Bc4 with a complicated
DwDwDwDw position) Qh4+ 27. Ke2 Qh2+ 28. Ke1 Qg1+ 0–1 J. Hunter–J.
wDw)wDwD Zukertort, Great Britain 1873 10. Nd4 N×d4 11. c×d4 0–0? Bet-
DwDwDBDw ter is 11. ... Qa5 12. Bf3 d5 13. Nc3 Be6. 12. Bf3 Qd6 (see dia-
P)wDw)P) gram)
$NGQ$wIw 13. b3! Suddenly, Black does not have a satisfactory answer
After 12. … Qd6 to the threat of White’s bishop to a3. 13. ... Bd8 14. Ba3
Qb6 15. Bc5 Qa6 16. B×f8 K×f8 17. Nc3 Qa5 18. Ne4 Better
is 18. Rc1 with a winning position. For example: 18. ... d6 19. Qe2 g6 20. Nd5 c6 21. b4
Qa4 22. N×f6 B×f6 23. d5 Bd7 24. d×c6 b×c6 25. b5 d5 26. b×c6 B×c6 27. Qc2
Q×c2 28. R×c2. 18. ... d5 19. N×f6 Better is 19. Nc5 with an advantage for White.
19. ... B×f6 20. Bg4 c5 Better is 20. ... g6 21. B×c8 R×c8
wDwDwiwD 22. Qf3 with just a small White advantage. 21. B×c8 R×c8
0pDwDp0w 22. Rc1 Stronger was 22. Qh5 g6 23. Q×h7 B×d4 24. Rad1
wDwDw4wD Rd8 25. h4 with a big advantage to White. 22. ... B×d4
Dw0pDwDw Black has compensation for the exchange. 23. Qg4 Qd8 24. Red1
w)wgwDw1 Rc6 25. b4 Rg6 26. Qf5 Rf6 27. Q×h7 Rh6 28. Qf5 Rf6
DwDwDwDP 29. Qh7 Rh6 30. Qc2 Golmayo avoids the repetition of moves
PDQDw)PD and courageously seeks the victory. 30. ... Qh4 31. h3 Rf6 (see
Dw$RDwIw diagram)
After 31. … Rf6 32. R×d4 Given the pressure against f2, Golmayo decides
to return the exchange and enter into an endgame. 32. ... Q×d4
33. Q×c5+ Q×c5 34. R×c5 Ra6 35. Ra5 R×a5? The decisive mistake; instead, Black should
enter into a rook ending with 35. ... Rb6 36. a3 d4 37. f4 (of course not 37. R×a7?? d3
38. Ra8+ Ke7 and Black wins) 37. ... Re6 38. Kf2 a6 39. Rd5 Re4 40. f5 Ke7 41. Kf3
Re3+ 42. Kf4 R×a3 43. R×d4 b6 44. h4 a5 45. b×a5 b×a5 with an even position. 36. b×a5
Now White has a better endgame. 36. ... Ke7 Or 36. ... f5 37. g3 Kf7 38. Kf1 Kg6 39. Ke2
Kf6 40. Kd3 Ke5 41. f4+ Ke6 42. g4 Ke7 43. Kd4 f×g4 44. h×g4 Ke6 45. Kc5 g6 46. Kd4
b5 47. a×b6 a×b6 48. a4 Kd6 49. f5 g5 50. f6 Ke6 51. f7 K×f7 52. K×d5 winning. 37. Kf1
Kd6 38. Ke2 Kc5 39. Kd3 d4 Or 39. ... a6 40. h4 f5 41. h5 b6 (if 41. ... f4 42. g3 f3
43. g4 Kd6 44. Ke3 winning) 42. a×b6 K×b6 43. Kd4 Kc6 44. a3 Kd6 45. g3 a5 46. a4
Kc6 47. f3 Kd6 48. g4 f4 49. g5 Ke6 50. h6 winning. 40. h4 f5 Or 40. ... Kd5 41. h5
Ke5 42. f3 f6 43. Kc4 Kf4 44. K×d4 Kg3 45. Ke4 K×g2 (if 45. ... Kh4 46. a4 K×h5 47. Kd5
Kh4 48. Kd6 Kg3 49. Kc7 g5 50. K×b7 K×g2 51. a6 K×f3 52. K×a7 g4 53. Kb6 Kf2
54. a7 g3 55. a8=Q g2 56. Q×g2+ K×g2 57. a5 f5 58. a6 f4 59. a7 f3 60. a8=Q winning)
46. f4 Kh3 47. Kf5 Kh4 48. Kg6 f5 49. K×g7 K×h5 50. Kf6 Kg4 51. Ke5 winning. 41. g3
Kd5 42. f3 Ke5 42. ... g6 43. a3 Ke5 44. Kc4 winning. 43. h5 Kd5 44. a3 a6 45. a4 With
a winning position. 45. ... Ke5 46. Kc4 d3 47. K×d3 Kd5 48. g4 f×g4 49. f×g4
Ke5 50. Ke3 Ke6 51. Ke4 Kf6 52. Kf4 Ke6 53. g5 Ke7 If 53. ... Kd5 54. h6 winning.
54. Ke5 Black resigned. A great game for Golmayo, who played on equal terms against
Steinitz. 1–0.
Habaneros were planning to invite Steinitz again in 1884, and even contacted the Polish-
British master Johannes Hermann Zukertort. But he requested, as a bare minimum, the same
treatment that was given to Steinitz. Not that this was unreasonable, but the negotiations
went nowhere. One of the prospects for the invitation of Zukertort included the possibility
of a match against Steinitz, as he himself had suggested in a letter to Emilio J. Hidalgo pub-
lished by the newspaper El Triunfo in its November 26, 1883, issue, according to Peón, the
Brooklyn Chess Chronicle’s mysterious correspondent in the Cuban capital. Some of Zuker-
tort’s comments particularly annoyed Golmayo, who felt offended when he learned that the
master demanded a sort of subsidy to play against him. Obviously, without Golmayo’s
approval, nothing could be done, nor would anyone want to do anything, so the idea of
inviting Zukertort came to nothing, and afterwards his name was deleted from the Havana
list.
After that first offshoot that was Steinitz’s visit, chess fell into another impasse. Suddenly
Havana vanished from the pages of the magazines dedicated to the game in the United States
and Europe. From Brooklyn, the Muñoz brothers placed notices in the “Correspondents”
section, asking Golmayo and others on the island to send them news and games:
C. Golmayo, Habana—When you get a pretty game, we’ll appreciate it if you send it to us for
publication. We would like to have every now and then some chess news from Havana, and any
game of yours that we publish will be seen with pleasure by our readers and ourselves also. Don’t
forget us. [Translated from the Spanish.]
And also: “Gabriel Toscano, Havana—What’s going on around that city, concerning
our noble game? Can you send us any news? We’ll appreciate it very much.”
But the requests went unanswered. The mood was not right for chess, or for corre-
spondence. “The heat is oppressive ... the tournament at the Military Circle was abandoned
... Golmayo is abstaining from playing ... the other apostles of Caissa have disappeared,” wrote
the disconsolate Peón in a report sent to the Muñoz brothers in November 1884. The cause
had nothing to do with the summer heat. The price of sugar had plummeted that year, and
a few months later it was selling at two cents per pound, meager levels that lingered for most
of the decade. Growers were ruined; the old landholding class owned the sugar cane plan-
tations and factories, and most of them lost the properties that for many years had been
heavily mortgaged. The crashing prices meant the worst economic crisis in Cuba up to that
time. Of course, under those conditions there could be no disposition, or money, to invite
chess masters. Pessimism grew so deep that the avidness of the Brooklyn Chess Chronicle for
news from Havana was completely ignored.
That was the decade in which slavery was finally abolished in Cuba. It was common
then to see the unusual occurrence of the police and the army still guarding the barracks,
except that now it was for the purpose of keeping the former slaves from returning to live
in them, not to prevent escapes. Although the 1880 law, finally decreeing the end of slavery,
gave the masters an extra seven years of dominance, or patronazgo, over the emancipated
slaves, the vast majority of the planters, faced with the sugar prices calamity and the changes
brought by the industrial revolution to the factories, decided to release their personnel in
advance and by force. As a result, a huge human mass, deprived of financial resources and
socially incapable of adapting to the new environment, was left unprotected and with no
other alternative than to beg in the cities and countryside. Earlier, slaves had been replaced
in the industrial phase of sugar production by salaried workers brought from Spain, as part
of a long project of colonial domination known as “whitening,” marked by an obvious racist
connotation.
One lucky stroke suddenly changed the fate of the Havana Chess Club, as if Caissa had
wanted to reward the perseverance of her followers. In the spring of 1885, after the application
for a permit to open a location for the exclusive practice of chess, two other important figures
emerged, with a penchant for chess and plenty of money in their deep pockets, to invite the
top players, including the world champion, and especially him, to honor their halls. Those
two were Arístides Martínez and Enrique Conill. Along with the already renowned Emilio
J. Hidalgo, they formed a powerful trio of philanthropists. Unquestionably it was a provi-
dential turn of fate.
The Brooklyn Chess Chronicle of May 18, 1885, published the good news:
On the 20th of April last, the Havana Chess Club was formally organized with the following
officers: Celso Golmayo, the champion of Cuba, President; Vicente Carvajal, Vice-President;
Manuel Monteverde, Secretary and Treasurer, and Enrique Delmonte, Assistant Secretary and
Treasurer. Committee, Mssrs. Alberto Ponce, Plácido Domínguez and Álvaro Caballero. The club
was organized with 30 members. The first handicap tournament has just concluded. The first
prize was won by Mr. José Hernández, and the second by Mr. Alberto Ponce. Fourteen players
took part in this tourney. Another tourney was to commence immediately after the club has
moved to their new quarters, and in which the champion, Mr. Golmayo, was to take part as class
A, yielding the odds of P and move to Mr. Carvajal, who alone, as we understand, will constitute
class B. In our next number we expect to be able to give full details of this interesting tourna-
ment.
The application was made on April 20 by the Cuban Plácido Domínguez (one of those
who had been accused of plotting activities after 1868) and was approved on September 15,
1885. The address provided was 11 Mercaderes St. (actually Mercaderes 111), between Obispo
and Obrapía, according to the old numbering system used in the 19th century. The facts
quoted by Cuban historian Carlos A. Palacio are slightly different from those given by the
Brooklyn Chess Chronicle. For instance, instead of

Monteverde as secretary-treasurer, Palacio names
Adolfo Moliner, who actually held that position for
many years. The official document cited by the his-
torian is file number 170 of the Havana provincial
government.44
But Vázquez’s return from exile in Mexico was
indisputably the most relevant factor affecting
Cuban chess in that period. After becoming a Mex-
ican citizen, Vázquez had held very high positions
in the Mexican government and was even an elected
representative to the federal Congress. The tempo-
rary easing of political tensions in Cuba was a great
relief for him, allowing him to return to his native
land with all the prestige and protection provided
by his diplomatic assignment as Consul General of
Mexico, a post that in the case of Cuba, not yet an
independent republic, was the equivalent of an ambas-
sadorship. So when in the port of Veracruz, on July The Cuban-Mexican Andrés Clemente
22, 1886, he boarded the previously mentioned Vázquez’s articles recreated the splen-
steamship City of Washington, which covered the dor of the Cuban chess boom at the end
New York–Havana–Campeche route, he turned the of the 19th century. It was he who
wrote the first journalistic feature of
first page of one of the most exciting chapters in the Capablanca on October 8, 1893 (El
history of world chess. Pablo Morphy, 1892).
Vázquez was a character out of a legend: with
his long and well-groomed moustache, whose tips he would curl while playing chess, his
restless stare and his explosive temper, he soon became the star of the Cuban salons. He cap-
tivated chess players with his articles and was the indisputable spokesman of that most par-
ticular micro-world. Week after week, he picked cast-metal sorts from the cases to the
composing stick to typeset articles about the most acclaimed games of the universal aces, as
well as the local players (with a certain preference for his own), creating enjoyable chronicles,
blending elements of erudition and ingenuity that gave a very particular flavor to his writings.
This helped to reconstruct the Cuban chess scene from 1862 to 1901. His articles and books
are the main source for those researching the trajectory of the game on the island. That alone
would have earned him a dominant place in Cuba chess history. But his most transcendental
moment came by accident one Sunday, September 17 or 24, 1893, when during a visit he
observed in amazement a sharp-tongued playful little boy, not quite five years old, who was
having a lot of fun making short shrift of his rivals at the chessboard. On that afternoon, at
the Havana Chess Club, Vázquez witnessed the birth of the greatest chess legend ever, José
Raúl Capablanca.
Vázquez, a tactical player of some capability, crossed swords almost equally in his con-
frontations against Celso Golmayo, as he would do later against that other eternal figure of
Cuban chess, Juan Corzo. But he usually fell flat on his face when opposing stalwart adver-
saries such as Steinitz, Lasker, Chigorin, Blackburne and Mackenzie (but not Isidor Gunsberg,
whom he beat 2–0 in an unfinished match). He grimaced whenever anyone spoke to him
about the Modern Position School and used to say that, like Morphy, he preferred the free
flight of imagination. In a burst of zeal he even declared that the postulates of the Cuban
Chess School were identical to those of the Louisiana genius, but with the addition of the
modern gains in terms of openings.
In 1893, being unable to understand the intrinsic greatness of Emanuel Lasker, whose
high-caliber volleys pulverized the castles of the most renowned Cuban masters, Vázquez
criticized him relentlessly, without an inkling that a year later that stranger would take the
world’s crown. Cluelessly convinced that it was sheer luck, instead of superlative know-how
bundled with an unprecedented style, Vázquez ranted at length, linking together protracted
dealings of excuses and arguments. They were aimed at demonstrating that his defeats against
Lasker, as well as the setbacks suffered by Golmayo and other domestic players, were the
results of an accumulation of adverse factors, not Lasker’s mastery. He concluded his comments
by asking himself how it was possible for Lasker to prevail with the Sicilian Defense, adding:
“To take good advantage of the benefits of such a defense, one must have a Benedictine patience
and wait without rashness or unrestiveness for the adversary to waver. Old School admirers,
like us, are not good at it. If Lasker keeps on winning with the Sicilian Defense, bully for him,
but we shall not imitate him on that” (El Fígaro, 1893, exact date unknown).
Vázquez gave strength and valor to the island’s chess players, and enthusiastically repro-
duced in the magazines and newspapers for which he wrote the games they had played hours,
days or weeks before. After his return from Mexico in 1886, he began almost immediately
to write chess articles for Havana’s El Sport, one of many publications that emerged in the
Cuban capital as a result of the enormous boom that took over the island after the intro-
duction of baseball, soon to be called pelota by the Cubans; later his chronicles for El Fígaro,
La Unión Constitucional and Diario de la Marina were collected in many books, published
one after the other in a matter of a few years, making him the world’s most prolific chess
writer.
That made him, if not the first chess journalist in Cuba, the most important one of all
time. In addition, he reviewed tournaments such as New York 1889 and Hastings 1895;
wrote a biography of Morphy; analyzed the Steinitz–Chigorin matches of 1889 and 1892;
recounted the visits to Havana by Morphy and by the English master Joseph A. Blackburne;
accurately predicted Steinitz’s defeat by Chigorin in the two games by mail of 1891; compiled
up-to-date opening variations in books such as El Ajedrez Magistral; detailed the diverse
strategies for the middle game and endings; showed all the tactical elements in a compendium
of combinations; highlighted the imperfections of the most renowned composers of chess
problems, in a book he suitably titled Ajedrez Crítico; published several chess magazines in
Mexico and Cuba, among which the most noteworthy was La Revista de Ajedrez, specially
created for presenting the first Steinitz–Chigorin match, and El Pablo Morphy, to the same
end for the second match of both great masters; and left for posterity a bulky three-volume
Manual de Ajedrez, which went through several editions and was for many years the basic
reference work for chess in Latin America.
As a thinker and man of letters, Vázquez wrote dozens of essays and books not related
to chess; notable among them was his tale of Henrietta Faber, the Swiss woman who,
disguised as a man, became the first female to graduate from the medical school in Paris,
and subsequently joined Napoleon’s Grande Armée as a medical officer for the invasion
of Russia in 1812. Eventually her true gender was revealed to the Spanish authorities
many years later in Cuba. Vázquez’s story about Faber’s life later inspired another writer
from the island, Antonio Benítez Rojo, to write his historical novel Mujer en Traje de Batalla
(Woman in Battle Dress). The opposite of Vázquez’s unbridled passion, and his fair emotional
complement at the club, was Celso Golmayo Zúpide. Refined, neat, calm; the best years of
his life were a thing of the past during the chess boom of the 1890s. Despite the look of
kindness in Golmayo’s blue eyes, Vázquez used to warn: “Don’t peeve him at the board,” and
reminded others that Morphy had admitted publicly that he could not give Golmayo odds
of a knight.45
Such was the appreciation that Vázquez felt for Golmayo’s playing that he did not hes-
itate to write: “Isn’t he the top player of endgames known to the world?” Golmayo had a
notorious practical force and he was called The Master. He played six short series against
Steinitz, Lasker, Chigorin and Mackenzie, before whom he fell with honor, but not before
treating his fans to a few well-earned victories against those giants. His best moment was
when he lost a close match against Blackburne. All had their hopes up for him and regretted
that he had not dedicated himself more seriously to chess. Golmayo and Vázquez became as
of 1886 a formidable chess duo in Cuba, with the occasional participation of Martínez Car-
vajal, who lived outside of Havana. It was they who faced in single games—and other formal
ones with a clock, as was the case against Blackburne in 1891—the visiting masters before
Juan Corzo and his brother Enrique joined the group during the last decade of the 19th cen-
tury.
It was Vázquez who gave the best explanation about the origin of the money spent on
generous invitations extended to key figures of world chess:
It would seem strange that a non-wealthy club could incur such large expenses. The explanation
of that phenomenon is simple. There are in the shadows of the association some highly mag-
nanimous patrons. That generosity at times comes from El Casino Español de la Habana and
the Union Club. At other times—or better said, always—affluent gentlemen like Messrs. D.
[Emilio] Julio Hidalgo, D. Enrique Conill and D. Arístides Martínez have pledged strong sums
on the spot.46
In the fall of 1886, with the sponsorship of the recently-arrived Arístides Martínez and
Enrique Conill, an invitation was made to the top player (except Steinitz) in the United States,
George Henry Mackenzie, a Scottish master resident in the U.S. since 1865, who arrived in
the Cuban capital on March 3 on board the steamship S.S. Morgan. Mackenzie got busy right
away, and two days later, on March 5, offered a simultaneous match against 10 strong players,
winning 9 and losing 1. The next day, he beat Martínez Carvajal 2–0 and on March 10 faced
Golmayo, whom he also defeated by a wide margin. Against Vázquez, the level of the games
was so good that the majority of them appeared in international magazines. Steinitz published
many of Mackenzie’s encounters in his International Chess Magazine; they were also reviewed
in La République Française, the British Chess Magazine and Chess Monthly. Mackenzie was
a frequently honored guest in those years and, indeed, it was he who inaugurated what
Vázquez would later call “The Chess Season,” which was always held between January and
late March, although sometimes it started in the final days of December.
In 1887, Mackenzie went to Cuba twice, in March and December. A great bond of friend-
ship and respect was established between him and the Havana chess gang. His presence was
admired and cherished, so much so that when his tuberculosis infection advanced, pushing
him to the brink of death, the Havana Chess Club invited him to spend the cruelest months
of northern winter in a more favorable climate for his health, without demanding any profes-
sional obligations on his part, just whatever he felt like doing. That was a beautiful act of sol-
idarity not often repeated in the history of chess. On his last trip to Havana, Mackenzie
apparently played his last known game, a consultation affair with the support of Enrique
Conill and J.J. Machado, against Blackburne, Ramón Iglesias and Fernando Gómez. That day,
March 4, 1891, in the club, during move 17, Mackenzie suffered a coughing fit that forced
him to stop the game temporarily.
Blackburne, Iglesias and Gómez–Mackenzie,

Conill and Machado [C39], Havana, 4 March 1891
w4bDkDwD 1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. h4 g4 5. Ne5 Nc6 6. d4 f3
0w0wDpDp 7. Bf4 d6 8. N×c6 b×c6 9. g×f3 Bh6 10. Qd2 Qf6 11. B×h6
wDp0w1wh N×h6 12. f4 Rb8 13. c3 Rg8 14. Na3 g3 15. 0–0–0 Rg4 16. f5
DwDwDPDw R×e4 17. Bg2 (see diagram)
wDw)rDw)
Hw)wDw0w This was the last position registered in that game. Even though
P)w!wDBD Mackenzie later wanted to continue and attempted a few more
DwIRDwDR moves, those around him urged him to desist. A week later,
After 17. Bg2 Mackenzie returned to New York, where he died on April 14, in
what many, Steinitz among them, considered a suicide by mor-
phine overdose but “consumption” was the actual cause of death. Despite his serious health
conditions, Mackenzie kept his optimism until his last minute; he was still planning an
encounter against the winner of the announced Gunsberg–Blackburne match, as he told
Steinitz on the afternoon prior to his death, when both met at the Manhattan Chess Club.
One of Vázquez’s victories (he won two games against Mackenzie in one of those series),
appeared in at least three international publications. The game’s development gave evidence
that the players from the island, far from fearing to engage their powerful visitors in pitched
battles, seemed to assume that their best chances were in the more complicated tactics.
George H. Mackenzie–Andrés C. Vázquez [C02]

Havana, 28 December 1887
1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. e5 c5 4. c3 Nc6 5. Nf3 Qb6 6. Be2 6. a3 is nowadays the most pop-
ular: 6. ... Bd7 7. b4 c×d4 8. c×d4 Rc8 9. Bb2 Na5 10. Nbd2 Nc4 11. N×c4 d×c4 12. Rc1 a5
13. Nd2 a×b4 14. N×c4 Qd8 15. a×b4 Bc6 with an unclear position (Sveshnikov). 6. ...
c×d4 7. c×d4 Nh6 8. B×h6 Better is 8. Nc3 Nf5 9. Na4 Qa5+ 10. Bd2 Bb4 11. Bc3 B×c3+
12. N×c3 Qb6 13. Bb5 Bd7 14. B×c6 B×c6 15. Qd2 Bb5 16. N×b5 Q×b5 with an even game
(Mohring). 8. ... Q×b2 9. Bd2 Or 9. Nc3 Q×c3+ 10. Bd2 Qa3 11. 0–0 Be7 12. Qc2 Bd8
13. Rab1 Bb6 14. Rb3 Qe7 15. Bg5 Qc7 16. Bc1 N×e5 17. Rc3
rDwDw4kD Nc6 18. Ba3 Bd7 19. Rc1 Qd8 20. Bb5 Rc8 21. Qe2 f6 22. B×c6
0pDbDwDp R×c6 23. R×c6 b×c6 24. R×c6 Kf7 with a better game for Black.
wDnHp1pD R. Mantovani–V. Yemelin, Kallithea 2008. 9. ... Q×a1 10. 0–0
DwDpDwDw Q×a2 11. Nc3 Or 11. Bb5 a6 12. Ba4 Qb2 13. Ng5 h6 14. Bc3
wDw)wDw) Qb6 15. Nh3 Qc7 16. f4 b5 17. Bc2 g6 18. f5 e×f5 19. g4 Be6
DwDwDNDw 20. Nf4 0–0–0 with a winning position for Black. F. Waldow–
wDQDw)PD T. Martin, German Championship 1987. 11. ... Qa5 12. Re1 Bb4
DBDw$wIw 13. Nb5 0–0 14. B×b4 Q×b4 15. Bd3 Qe7 16. Bb1 f5 17. e×f6
After 20. Nd6 Q×f6 18. Qc2 g6 19. h4 Bd7 20. Nd6 (see diagram)
20. ... N×d4 with a winning position. 21. N×d4 Q×d4 22. h5 Qb4 23. Re3 Q×d6
24. h×g6 Rac8 25. g×h7+ Kh8 26. Qb2+ d4 27. Re4 e5 28. g3 Qh6 29. Qb4 Rc1+ 30. Re1
Bc6. White resigned. 0–1.
It was discovered at the club that besides the exhibition encounters against the illustrious
visitors, the activity most valued by the members were the handicap tournaments, since those
allowed the lesser players to face Golmayo, Vázquez, Carvajal and other domestic masters,
receiving an advantage according to their approximate strength. The 1887 tournament deliv-
ered a surprise when second place was taken by one of Cuba’s most notable musicians, the
composer Ignacio Cervantes, who finished right after Golmayo, but above Vázquez, Gavilán,
Ponce and the rest of the club’s strongest players. However, researchers have been unable to
find what degree of odds, or handicap, was given to Cervantes. This is how the handicap
system operated at the Havana Chess Club: the first class gave a pawn and the first move to
the second class; a knight to the third class; and a rook to the fourth class. Second class
granted a pawn and a move to the third class, and so on.
On February 15, 1888, the much-awaited return of William Steinitz to Havana took
place aboard the steamship City of Atlanta, although it wasn’t one of the world champion’s
best moments. At the time he was still mourning the loss of his only daughter, Flora,
who had died a month before on January 14, in Brooklyn. Upon his arrival, the recep-
tion was filled with the typical pomposity of official protocol. The barge that took
Steinitz from the steamer to the dock was specially sent by the port’s captain and manned
by oarsmen in spotless uniforms of the Spanish navy. That was part of the Havanans’
official recognition of his world chess championship after his match against Zukertort. It
was a flashy demonstration of rhythmic and elegant martial movements, characteristic of a
ceremonial unit during a naval parade. Things like that filled Steinitz with joy. The Havana
Chess Club toyed with the possibility of arranging a Steinitz–Mackenzie match after the
Scot’s first visit in 1887, but they quickly realized that it was a taboo subject and dismissed
the idea.
The problem was Steinitz’s insistence on giving Mackenzie two games’ advantage in a
match for the total world championship, a sort of “unification of titles,” which would be a
familiar subject many years later, at the end of the twentieth century, in chess circles. As late
as November 1887, Steinitz’s International Chess Magazine continued offering that handicap
to one of the world’s strongest players, possibly one of the top three. In reply to the Baltimore
Sunday News assertion that such an offer was humiliating for Mackenzie, Steinitz retorted
that Staunton and Morphy had proposed pawn and one or two moves to the most distin-
guished masters of his time, but admitted that technical advances made it impossible to give
a pawn. Nevertheless, he was firm in his offer of giving Mackenzie two games’ advantage, as
long as the minimum bidding was $1,000 and betting was unlimited. Regarding the argument
that with such an initial advantage in the score, Mackenzie would win easily in a match set
for 10 games, Steinitz encouraged those who thought that way to “enrich themselves” by
voting for the captain. He added that if anyone would give him such an advantage, he would
“put my pride in my pocket” and accept the offer.
Ultimately, it was just a problem of sore vanity. When Mackenzie mentioned that his
tournament results were superior to Steinitz’s, he had implicitly proclaimed himself as a sort
of world champion in those competitions. Steinitz did not wholly disagree, as long as
Mackenzie left him alone and recognized him as the “world’s chess champion in matches,”
until the day when the captain agreed to put an end to the “duality” of titles and face him,
to settle the matter once and for all. This never happened, because in the final years of the
1880s, Mackenzie’s health went from bad to worse.
The Havana Chess Club kept a healthy distance from that controversy. Even Vázquez,
who wasn’t prone to overlook anything, preferred not to mention it, for the simple reason
that both Steinitz and Mackenzie were well liked in the city and a true fondness for them
had grown among the island’s chess players. Actually, the club members found a Solomonic
solution to bring them face to face across a chessboard: Steinitz and Mackenzie were to face
each other, though not directly, but accompanying other players in consultation. The game
was arranged with Golmayo and Mackenzie on one side, against Vázquez and Steinitz on
the other. A dramatic struggle ensued, lasting 11 hours. It required three different sessions
to finish, and the victory was for the Steinitz–Vázquez duo.
During that 1888 visit, Steinitz took notice that all the efforts to increase the interest
in chess were paying off, and in the April issue of his magazine that year he praised 14-year-
old Guillermo López, predicting he would have a great future in the game. With a rook’s
handicap, López had defeated Steinitz; later, with a knight’s handicap, he beat the world
champion four out of nine games. The 1888 season was approaching its end when Mackenzie
returned to the United States on February 29, although Steinitz went on delighting the
aficionados until March 22.
This time the world champion was originally signed for a four-week stay in Havana,
but at the club members’ request he agreed to stay one more week. It was a highly emotional
moment for him when he was presented with a beautifully framed front page of El Sport,
dated Thursday, March 1, and displaying a full-cover image of his late daughter Flora. The
moving gesture, initiated by Vázquez, made a lasting impression on Steinitz. That visit to
the island by the champion deepened the friendship between him and the local players. Out
of it grew the idea of a match against Chigorin, which seemed quite plausible to Steinitz,
who trusted the organizers to finalize the details, once he approved it.
When he returned to New York in March 22, he was convinced that the Havana Chess
Club members were persons of great humanitarian substance, whose support for chess
and its greatest exponents were commendable. For Steinitz, there was no place in the world
like Havana, as he proclaimed in the April issue of that year of his International Chess
Magazine:
HAVANA is the Eldorado of Chess. There you find true amateurs, who really play for the love of
the game and the promotion of our noble pastime, for the benefit of the whole Chess commu-
nity, and without the slightest self-interest. They invite the strongest Chess masters, whom they
remunerate liberally and treat with the most considerate and generous hospitality, without any
other object than to develop the skill of their guest for the entertainment of Chess at large.
Within some fourteen months, the Havana Chess Club has arranged no less than seven matches,
namely: three between Captain Mackenzie and Señor Golmayo, two between the same gentle-
man and Señor Vazquez, and my own two last matches. And this at a cost which may be esti-
mated to exceed the total value of all the prizes offered by two national associations in the two
last so-called International Tournaments of Frankfort and London. Truly, such noble support of
our cosmopolitan pastime on the part of the Cubans is something phenomenal, considering that
Chess is so little cultivated among their own nationality. For the Havana Chess Club is actually
the first and, at present, the only Chess Society that has been formed in any Spanish-speaking
country, and the only Chess medium in that language is the Chess column of El Sport of
Havana, which is edited by Señor Vazquez.47
Such was, in broad strokes, the history of chess in Cuba on that January 17, 1889, when
the 2,600-ton frame of the steamer City of Washington, with Chigorin among her passengers,
glided before the stone fortresses at the mouth of the bay and pointed its prow towards
Havana customs.
Born in the St. Petersburg region in 1850, Chigorin did not have a solid sports back-
ground, nor any resounding international victories (except taking fourth place in the London
tourney of 1883), but neither could Steinitz show his fans a distinguished track record in
tournaments, although he could do so in terms of matches, where his overwhelming record
was perfect. On the other hand, favoring the Russian champion was the incontrovertible
fact that thanks to his vehement research, the study of openings had reached a profound
height of interest, providing horizons that seemed to expand without limitation. Since 1887,
the Russian master had directed several chess magazines in his native country, and he flooded
them with his profuse commentaries. Chigorin asserted that the fundamentals for a master
of the game were individuality of thought, amplitude of fantasy, and range of ideas. His
unequivocal affirmation was that the theory of chess was under constant development and
change and, as a result, what was correct one day might no longer be so the next day.
This theory at times ran into obstinate criticisms from Steinitz and Tarrasch, who had
a more eternal concept of certain theoretical postulates, and occasionally seemed to believe
that the plenitude of chess knowledge had been reached in their works and practical examples.
The leaders of the Havana Chess Club, when they went on that day to greet Chigorin at the
pier, discovered a man of “frank and likeable features, rather small, but not so much as
Steinitz.” The reporter left out of the comparison that Chigorin did not limp. But he pointed
out the cultured manners, the lively character and imagination that were said could pass him
off as a Frenchman.48
When, in the winter of 1888, Golmayo and Vázquez suggested the name of Chigorin
to face Steinitz, they were far from imagining that the first contact would also be the embryo
and catalyst of other projects of such magnitude that would turn Havana into the Mecca of
world chess. On that occasion, 1889, everything was on a grand scale; besides Steinitz and
Chigorin, Captain Mackenzie was at hand, and he would take charge of training the local
aficionados with simultaneous sessions and small personal series. During the reception ban-
quet, at the Las Tullerías restaurant, in addition to the habitual names, there appeared for
the first time a Spanish army officer, Colonel Emiliano Loño, who sat between J.J. Machado,
editor of La Revista de Ajedrez, and the Italian consul general, at a table presided over by
Aurelio Carrazo, chess patron, and Arístides Martínez, at its respective ends.
Chigorin’s late arrival in Havana encouraged Steinitz to play a short series of five games
against Martínez Carvajal, who came close to giving the season’s first big surprise. Carvajal
won the first game of the series and lost the other three, one of them in an even position.
But he had an absolutely winning position in the fifth and was only one play away from a
brilliant victory, when he made a wrong move and lost. Those two games by Carvajal are
clear examples of his practical strength at chess.
William Steinitz–Vicente Martínez Carvajal [C30]

Match, 1st Game, Havana, 12 January 1889
1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nc6 5. Bb5 Bg4 6. Na4 Bb6 7. d3 Nge7 8. c3
0–0 9. f5 d5 10. h3 Bf3 11. Q×f3 (see diagram)
rDw1w4kD 11. ... Nd4 An ingenious move that complicates the game.
0p0whp0p Black had a good game with the simple 11. ... Qd6. 12. c×d4
wgnDwDwD Ba5+ 13. Ke2 Better is 13. Kf1 (Steinitz). 13. ... c6 14. f6
DBDp0PDw The simple 14. d×e5 was better. 14. ... c×b5 15. Nc5 Qc7
NDwDPDwD (15. ...Nc6 16. Qg3) 16. Nb3 (International Chess Magazine,
Dw)PDQDP Volume V, 1889) but Steinitz’s move is also good. 14. … Ng6
P)wDwDPD 15. Bg5? The right move was 15. f×g7 K×g7 16. Nc5 with a win-
$wGwIwDR ning advantage. 15. ... c×b5 16. Nc5? He could safely have gone
After 11. Q×f3 for the exchange by 16. f×g7 Q×g5 17. g×f8=Q+ R×f8 18. Nc5;
though Black can now check with queen or knight, White is in
rDwDwDkD no danger (W. Wayte, British Chess Magazine, July 1889). But
0pDwDp)p after 18. Nc3 e×d4 19. N×d5 the game is even. 16. ... d×e4
wDwDwDnD 17. N×e4 Q×d4 18. Rab1 Better is 18. Rhb1 and the retreat
gpDw0wGw opens for the king towards the corner (Wayte). Black is also better
wDw1NDwD after 18. ... Rfc8 19. Qe3 Q×e3+ 20. B×e3 Rc2+ 21. Kf1 Bb6
DwDPDQDP 22. B×b6 a×b6. 18. ... Rfc8 19. f×g7 Rc2+ 20. Kd1? (see dia-
P)rDwDPD gram)
DRDKDwDR 20. Kf1 was still preferable though the rooks no longer co-
After 20. Kd1 operate, and White in any case has a bad game (Wayte). After
20. ...Bd8 Black is winning. For example: 21. Qe3 B×g5 22. Q×d4
e×d4 23. N×g5 Nf4 etc. 20. ... Qa4 With a winning position. “Mr. Steinitz bestows liberal
praise on this and the subsequent moves: indeed, as he remarks, ‘Black play from 11th move
to the end is of a very high order’.” 21. b3 Q×a2 22. Rc1 Rac8 23. Nf6+ K×g7 24. Ne8+
Kg8 25. Nf6+ Kh8 White resigned. 0–1.
William Steinitz–Vicente Martínez Carvajal [C30]

Match, 5th Game, Havana, 14 January 1889
1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Nc6 5. Bb5 Bg4 6. Na4 Bb6 7. c3 Nf6 8. d3 0–
0 9. N×b6 a×b6 10. 0–0 Ne7 Or 10. ... d5 11. h3 d×e4 12. d×e4 B×f3 13. Q×f3 Qe7
14. Kh1 Ra5 15. a4 Raa8 16. f5 Na5 17. Bg5 Nb3 18. Ra3 Nc5 19. g4 c6 20. Bc4 R×a4
21. R×a4 N×a4 22. b3 Nc5 with advantage for Black. T. Hoelscher–L. Olzem, Germany
1998. 11. f×e5 d×e5 12. Bc4 Ng6 13. Qe1 b5!? There is no doubt that Martínez Carvajal
was a player of great tactical imagination. 14. B×b5 c6 15. Bc4 b5 16. Bb3 Q×d3
17. Qg3? Better is 17. Bg5 Q×e4 18. B×f6 Q×e1 19. N×e1 g×f6 20. R×f6 with an even
position. 17. ... h5 Now Black is slightly better. 18. Ng5 Q×g3 19. h×g3 Be2 20. Re1
Bc4 21. Bc2 Rfd8 It is clear that Black cannot take the pawn with 21. ... R×a2 22. R×a2
B×a2 and the withdrawal of the bishop is closed with the reply 23. b3 (Andrés Clemente
Vázquez, La Revista de Ajedrez, Year I, Number 5, Havana, January 29, 1889). But Black
is better after 23. ... c5 24. Ba3 b4 25. c×b4 Ra8 26. Bc1 c×b4 27. Bd2 Rc8 28. Bd1 Rd8
29. B×b4 Rd4 30. Ba5 Rd3 31. Kf2 B×b3. 22. Be3 Better is 22. a4 b×a4 23. R×a4 R×a4
24. B×a4 with an even game. 22. ... Ng4 If 22. ... B×a2? 23. R×a2 R×a2 24. Bb3 R×b2
25. B×f7+ Kf8 26. B×g6 with a winning position. 23. b3 f6 Better is 23. ... Bd3 (Vázquez).
24. b×c4 N×e3 25. R×e3 f×g5 26. c×b5 c×b5 27. Bb3+ Kh7 28. Rf1 Ra7 29. Rf5
Kh6 30. Bf7 Rd1+ 31. Kh2 With 31. Kf2 Mr. Steinitz would have avoided future difficulties
(Vázquez). 31. ... Rd2 “At this point Black had the next attack, as ingenious as solid, proposed
by Mr. Golmayo after the game: 31. ... b4 32. c×b4. (But this is a mistake; instead the
right move is 32. Bb3 Rb1 33. Bf7 Ra3 34. Bb3 with an even game.) 32. ... Rc7 and
then the rook in c7 to c1 threatening mate” (Vázquez). Now Black has a winning attack.
For example: 33. Bb3 Rb1 34. Rd3 Rcc1 35. Bd1 R×d1 36. R×d1 R×d1 37. b5 Rb1 38. a4
Rb4 winning. 32. Ref3 Re2 33. Rd3 “Mr. Steinitz agreed with
us that 33. Bd5 would have been better because if 33. ... Ne7 wDwDwDwD
34. Rf2” (Vázquez). But Black is a little better after 34. ... R×f2 DwDRDw0w
35. R×f2 N×d5 36. e×d5 Rd7 37. Rd2 Kg6 38. g4 h4 39. g3 Kf6 rDwDwDBi
40. Rf2+ Ke7 41. g×h4 g×h4 42. Kh3 Kd6. 33. ... Ra6 34. Rd7 DpDw0R0w
“Mr. Steinitz also agreed that 34. Rd8 would have been more wDwDPDw0
convenient to continue with the rook to b8, being in a position Dw)wDw)w
to take a pawn or to give mate, if the opponent moves his knight PDwDrDPI
carelessly” (Vázquez). One possible variation is 34. ... R×e4 DwDwDwDw
35. Re8 Re2 36. g4 h4 37. B×g6 K×g6 38. Re×e5 R×e5 39. R×e5 After 35. B×g6
R×a2 40. R×b5 with an even game. 34. ... h4 35. B×g6
(see diagram)
35. ... Ra×a2 “A brave move that should have given the vic- wDwDwDwD
tory to Black” (Vázquez). 36. Rd6? However after 36. Kh3 R×g2 DwDwDw0w
37. Rd3 K×g6 38. Kg4 and White can draw with the best game. wDw$wDBi
For example: 38. ... R×g3+ 39. R×g3 h×g3 40. K×g3 Ra3 DpDw0R0w
41. R×e5 R×c3+ 42. Kg4 b4 43. R×g5+ Kf6 44. Rb5 b3 45. e5+. wDwDPDwD
36. ... R×g2+ 37. Kh1 Rh2+ 38. Kg1 Rag2+ 39. Kf1 h3 40. Ke1 Dw)wDw)p
(see diagram) wDwDwDr4
40. ... Rh1+ Martínez Carvajal missed here a big oppor- DwDwIwDw
tunity: 40. ... Re2+ 41. Kd1 Rb2 42. Kc1 Rhc2+ 43. Kd1 h2 After 40. Ke1
44. Rf1Rf2 winning. 41. Rf1 h2? Black was unable to save
the game with 41. ... Rgg1 because 42. Bf5+ Kh5 43. B×h3 (Vázquez). But after 41. ... R×f1+
42. K×f1 R×g3 43. Be8+ g6 Black has even a small advantage. 42. R×h1 Now White has a
winning position. 42. ... Rg1+ 43. Kf2 R×h1 44. Kg2. Black resigned. 1–0
The start of the Steinitz–Chigorin match was preceded by emotional comments and
predictions in the press, all of which created even bigger expectations in a city where chess
was becoming a significant source of public debate. Steinitz was aware of that enthusiasm
and asserted that on his first trip to Cuba in 1883, there was just a handful of people interested
in chess, but that afterwards, during his next two visits, in 1888 and 1889, there were thou-
sands of aficionados. It was upon the latter occasion that Golmayo, after defeating Mackenzie
in the ninth game of the match, tied the score at four victories apiece, although he finally
lost 7–4. His eight-year-old son, Celsito, came to his rescue by defeating the captain in a
simultaneous game in which he received the queen’s handicap, a new example of young blood
at the club.
It was clear that the publicity around chess attracted many people to the game, among
them children and adolescents. One of the most promising was Enrique Ostolaza, who at
the age of 15 defeated Captain Mackenzie decisively in a simultaneous game celebrated at
the Union Club on February 8, 1889.
George Mackenzie–Enrique Ostolaza [C30]

Simultaneous Game, Havana, 8 February 1889
1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Bc5 3. f4 d6 4. Nf3 Bg4 5. Bc4 B×f3 6. Q×f3 Nc6 7. d3 Nd4 8. Qd1
Qh4+ 9. g3 Qh3 10. Bb3 Qg2 11. Rf1 Q×h2 12. Qg4 Nh6 13. Q×g7 0–0–0 14. f×e5 Rhg8
15. Q×h6 Q×g3+ 16. Kd1 Qg4+ 17. Ke1 Nf3+ 18. R×f3 Q×f3 19. Ne2 Rg2 White resigned.
0–1.
Also notable was the brilliant way found by 15-year-old Guillermo López to transform
his positional advantage against Chigorin in an individual encounter in which he received
odds of pawn and move. After 29 moves, he had reached the position shown below:
Guillermo López–Mikhail Chigorin

Odds Game, Havana, 28 December 1889
Remove Black’s Queen Pawn
wDw4kDrD 30. R×e7+! K×e7 31. Re3+ Kf6 32. Re6+! B×e6 33. Nh5+
0pDwhbDQ Ke5 34. Bg7+ R×g7 35. Q×g7+ Kd6 36. Q×a1 Bg4+ 37. f3
wDwDwDwG Re8+ 38. Kf2 B×h5 39. Qd4+ Ke6 40. Qe4+ Kf6 41. Qh4+
DwDwDwDw Kg6 42. g4 Black resigned. 1–0.
wDpDRHwD
)wDwDwDR The Steinitz–Chigorin match ended with a 10–6 victory by Steinitz
wDPDK)PD and only one draw. Then, a competition for the world champi-
1wDwDwDw onship title was considered, but the informality of the preliminary
Position after 29 moves negotiations and the fact that Chigorin was informed about the
project by a letter from Steinitz kept this for a while in murky waters.
Vázquez wrote the following in the February 8, 1889, issue of La Revista de Ajedrez: “The con-
ditions accepted by Messrs. Steinitz and Chigorin to come to this city and play a series of games
to define the winner, if not de jure [are] at least de facto, of the ranking world chess champion....”49
So it was accepted that the winner of the match would be de facto the world champion.
Steinitz proclaimed so later in his book The Chess Instructor (New York, 1892), when referring
to the 1889 match as the “championship,” when he wrote: “The members of the Havana
Chess Club, who are the most enthusiastic and liberal patrons of the game, made on this
occasion the offer to Mr. Steinitz to provide the stakes and to defray all the expenses of a
match for the championship [italics added] of the world to be held under the auspices of that
society against any opponent whom the visitor would accept.”
There were no objections in this regard from Chigorin, the one most affected, nor
from the Havana Chess Club. Chigorin, who began the match quite well, later started losing
strength and at the end crumbled completely. Some attributed it to the sweltering tropical
heat, but Steinitz soon retorted that in that aspect the distress was equally shared. Actually,
Chigorin’s habitual walks through the city stopped as his situation in the match worsened,
as noted by Arturo de Beón, his closest friend in Havana.
Dr. Carlos J. Finlay, the famous Cuban scientist who discovered that a type of mosquito
was the carrier of yellow fever, was a regular at the Havana Chess Club, and made the fol-
lowing analysis of the match’s second game:
William Steinitz–Mikhail Chigorin [D02]

Match, 2nd Game, Havana, 22 January 1889
1. Nf3 d5 2. d4 Bg4 3. Ne5 Bh5 4. Qd3 Qc8 5. c4 f6 6. Nf3 wDw4w4kD
e6 7. Nc3 Bg6 8. Qd1 c6 9. e3 Bd6 10. Bd2 Ne7 11. Rc1 Nd7 0pDwgw0p
12. Nh4 f5 13. g4 Nf6 14. h3 Ne4 15. Bd3 f×g4 16. N×g6 N×g6 wDw)qDnD
17. B×e4 d×e4 18. N×e4 Be7 19. h×g4 e5 20. d5 Qd7 21. Bc3 DwDw0wDR
Rd8 22. Rh5 c×d5 23. c×d5 0–0 24. d6 Qe6 (see diagram) wDwDNDPD
White has a winning position. But Carlos J. Finlay proposed DwGw)wDw
an interesting move here: 24. ... Nh4 with the following analysis: P)wDw)wD
25. Qb3+ (if 25. d×e7 Ng2+ 26. Kf1 [26. Ke2 Qb5+ or ... N×e3+ Dw$QIwDw
winning]) 25. ... Kh8 26. d×e7 (or 26. Kf1 Q×g4 27. d×e7 Qh3+ After 24. … Qe6
28. Ke2 Qf3+ 29. Ke1 Ng2+ 30. Kf1 N×e3+ and White cannot
avoid perpetual check) 26. ... Nf3+ 27. Kf1 Qd3+ 28. Kg2 Q×e4 29. e×f8Q+ R×f8 30. Kg3
Nh2 (30. …Nd4!) 31. Qd1 Rf3+ 32. K×h2 (better is 32. Kg2 Rf8+ 33. Kg1 Nf3+ 34. Kf1
Q×g4 35. Rh1 Qc4+ 36. Qe2 winning) 32. ... R×f2+ 33. Kh3 Qg2+ 34. Kh4 Qh2+ 35. Kg5
h6+ 36. Kg6 Rf6 mate. 25. Qb3 Q×b3 26. a×b3 B×d6 27. N×d6 R×d6 28. Bb4 Rb6 29.
B×f8 K×f8 30. Rc8+ Kf7 31. Rc7+ Kf6 32. Rf5+ Ke6 33. Rff7 Rb4 34. R×b7 R×g4
35. R×g7 h5 36. R×a7 Kf5 37. f3 Rg2 38. Ra6 Black resigned. 1–0.
When the match ended after game 17, since it had been agreed to a total of 20, the
club’s directors asked the guests to play the three remaining games in consultation with local
experts. That kind of informality later contributed to the notion that the Steinitz–Chigorin
match was not really a competition for the world championship, although it was later
accepted as such.
The Russian master had the courage and fortitude to recover from the setback and
accepted the invitation to cheer the halls of the Havana Chess Club, and underwent an
impressive transformation. Chigorin changed over an array of individual games, simultaneous
sessions and blindfold exhibits, in the midst of an endless source of sacrifices that sparked
many heartfelt ovations among those who came to the club, and who were amazed as in
Morphy’s time. But unlike the shy and nostalgic demeanor of the American, and Steinitz’s
somewhat bashful and retiring modesty, Chigorin was the first master they saw who exuded
chess from all his pores. They spent many hours of those winter nights in heated debates
about the secrets of the game. When Chigorin left for New York, he had already softened
the pain of his defeat, and shortly after he would win for the first time in his life a grand
international competition.50
The club’s faint flame grew into a radiant torch once again when Chigorin returned
the following year and drew a dramatic match against Hungary’s champion, Isidor Gunsberg.
This time, Chigorin’s late arrival provided a chance for a short series between Gunsberg and
Vázquez, which was interrupted when Vázquez was leading by 2–0. So the arrival of the Rus-
sian master could not have come at a better time for him. After that season, it seemed that
the future organization of big chess events in Havana, including the presence of top-notch
figures, was assured.
For the 1891 season, the club aimed high one more time. Steinitz was asked if he would
be willing to return for a championship match against the new German star, Dr. Siegbert
Tarrasch. When the reigning world monarch said yes, the club requested that he write a
letter to Tarrasch conveying the offer. After that, the secretary, Mr. Moliner, sent Tarrasch
a telegram; but Tarrasch, instead of replying directly, gave his answer to a German newspaper.
This prompted an angry reaction on the part of Steinitz, who considered it a very impolite
act, not only towards himself, but also with regard to the club. Steinitz was correct in his
complaint that Tarrasch’s attitude tied the hands of the Cubans, because they had no way
of knowing if what the papers had published, allegedly quoting Tarrasch, was true.
When it was finally confirmed in Havana that Tarrasch had turned down the invitation,
the club had to hurry in order to find a suitable guest for the upcoming season. Although
Mackenzie, as always, had been invited, this time the main reason, as was later revealed by
Vázquez, was to help him alleviate his lung illness in a more benign climate than that of the
severe New York winter. Alberto Ponce, one of the club’s key voices, proposed the name
Blackburne, who apparently awaited such an opportunity.
The entire episode of Blackburne’s invitation and arrival was sprinkled with a rather
whimsical correspondence, if that is what laconic one-word replies could be called. When
he received the invitation by telegram, addressed to the Simpson’s Divan chess club of Lon-
don, the English master answered with a simple “Yes.” When asked about his departure from
England, he telegraphed back: “Teutonic,” the name of the ship that would take him to New
York. Once there, in keeping with the same frugal style, he wrote just this word in a cable
sent to Adolfo Moliner: “Washington,” meaning the by-now famous steamer City of Wash-
ington, which was destined to tie her name to the Havana Chess Club.
Blackburne won the two agreed series. Against Celso Golmayo, it was close, 5–3 and
2 draws. Against Vázquez, the score was a more comfortable 5–1, but it was the encounter
that Vázquez was forced to conclude within a week on account of his professional duties,
whereas the Blackburne–Golmayo match went on for 18 days. A great season it was, but
despite its success, it left a sour aftertaste that was due to the attitude of Tarrasch in not
responding directly to the telegram containing the invitation. In Havana, no one wanted
to hear anything about the so called Nuremberg Doctor, and when months later, León
Paredes, a new member of the executive board, suggested the name again, the remaining
members disagreed with him. Everyone wanted Steinitz, but against whom? Mackenzie and
Zukertort were dead, and Gunsberg had recently lost a match against the champion in New
York.
This time it was up to the millionaire Enrique Conill to propose once again the name
of a local favorite, Chigorin. The approval was unanimous. Vázquez explained how the vis-
iting masters were chosen in the following manner:
When the tropical heat gives way from its severity, when autumn begins with its cooler evenings
and almost cold nights, the Club’s Board meets, analyzes the accomplishments in the latest inter-
national bouts by the most distinguished professors and ... decrees with unappealable authority
who shall then receive the compliments of the high court of contemporary chess. The honor has
become so distinguished that every year it is sought, directly or expressly, by eminent players. To
be called by this club is the same as acquiring an indisputable patent for fame.51
The excitement about the rematch was such that the gossip beat the press, even before
Steinitz found out what was being plotted in Havana. Conill placed a $2,000 bet on Steinitz
that took the world champion by surprise, and he gracefully accepted it. Of course, Chigorin’s
two victories over Steinitz in the telegraph match held in 1891 were the main factors for his
name to be proposed again, to face Steinitz, the same way as in 1889, his favorable record
against the monarch added weight to his name.
Later, Steinitz wrote the following about the surprising bet and the personality of
Enrique Conill, whom he described as the “rich Havana banker”:
Señor Conill has acquired the faculty in a very high measure of gauging the approximate force of
different players very sharply, and as an instance I may relate that at the outset of the match
[Steinitz–Chigorin 1892] he asked me whether in making bets he could give the odds of one
game, which of course meant that he expected me to win by a majority of two games at least.
Naturally I answered in accordance with my publicly expressed views on the subject that on
account of my personal defects and my liability to break down I would rather not take any
responsibility in giving advice on the subject. “I have taken all that in my consideration,” replied
Señor Conill, “and yet I believe that you will come out two games ahead, or three at the
upmost.” Considering the actual result this was indeed a fine piece of judgment.52
But Steinitz also made it very clear that in his estimation, Conill didn’t care much about the
money on his bets, since he always did it thinking that he was going to win anyway. It was
in that manner that everything was arranged for another great season, if Chigorin, for the
third time in his life, agreed to travel to Havana. On October 20, 1891, he wrote from St.
Petersburg:
My dear Mr. Moliner, Havana:
Although among the conditions you have sent me, there is none indicating that I should give
a preliminary deposit of $250 in gold, I am sending you that amount, in light of the letter you
addressed to Mr. Steinitz. I shall depart from here on November 7th or 14th (Gregorian Calen-
dar) and from Le Havre a week later.
From Le Havre I will send you a cablegram with the name of the steamer on which I will be
sailing to America. Likewise, I shall send another cablegram from New York, where I will be
staying until the departure of the first steamer heading for Havana.
So, all the conditions to engage Mr. Steinitz have been accepted by me, and there are no
obstacles on my part for the match to be verified.
Excuse this letter’s laconism, and until very soon, your most sincere friend,
Mikhail Tchigorin [El Pablo Morphy, Volume I, number 2, November 15, 1891, page 40].
This time the engagement would exceed in brilliance, publicity and aura all others pre-
viously celebrated, as a fair complement to the worldwide furor unleashed by the famous
Steinitz–Chigorin telegraph match, which captured and kept the world of chess in suspense
from October 1890 to April 1891. Chigorin arrived first on the steamer Orizaba on January
9, and Steinitz finally arrived aboard the City of Alexandria on the 23rd. He had been delayed
by his wife’s illness, which led Vázquez to ask: “Shall Mr. Steinitz always have to battle the
vigorous Russian champion while overwhelmed with sorrow?”
In the meantime, while waiting for Steinitz, the St. Petersburg master dazzled the mem-
bers of the local guild with his radiant games. Even before Steinitz’s landing, the club mem-
bers confirmed that because of the existing expectations, the numbers of those interested in
watching the games surpassed the most optimistic estimates; there wasn’t room for so many,
neither in the chess club’s site, nor at the Union Club, which was the regular venue for the
most important contests of the time. It was then that they gained the backing of the Centro
Asturiano, which offered its renovated and fancy halls for both the inaugural banquet and
the site for all the games of the world chess championship. Something similar had happened
during the 1889 encounter, when some of the games were played at the Casino Español. At
that time, however, the attendance was a few hundred, whereas now it was anticipated that
it could double those earlier numbers.
Vázquez describes the opening festivities in a colorful way:

The splendid halls of the Havana Centro Asturiano, teeming with hundreds of stylishly dressed
celebrities in their most sumptuous attire, became the core of a pervasive expectation. Up and
down the ornate stairways moved high-ranking military officers, lawyers, doctor, journalists....
[R]eporters from the most renowned foreign newspapers, credentials on hand and making use of
special codes, informed the whole world, hour by hour, through the telegraph cables, about the
most salient details of those preparations. Some aristocratic ladies imposed circumspection
around them by the power of their delicate perfumes and rustling silks.... It seemed like a reverie
out of the One Thousand and One Nights, worthy of Rembrandt’s brushes. On a long and rich table,
covered by flowers and transparent crystal ware, [were] sweets, wines and sandwiches provided
by the Havana Chess Club and the gentlemanly board of the Centro Asturiano.... Like an immense
Minotaur, ready to pounce on the armed gladiators, a colossal chess board rose at the middle of
the hall with large red and black pieces that would show the moves of the two prominent adver-
saries ... [El Pablo Morphy, Volume I, number 4, Havana, 15 February 1892, pages 79–80].
There Vázquez ran into an upper-echelon officer whom he identified as an “old friend,”
Colonel Emiliano Loño, who had traveled 60 miles from his post in Matanzas. Loño was
well known around the capital’s chess circles, so his presence there hardly surprised the usual
Havana fans of the game, and although he didn’t have much of a reputation insofar as moving
pieces on the board, his name, nevertheless, would soon be tied to the history of chess, due
to the never-ending quirks of fate.
The match would be the Havana Chess Club’s most extraordinary success ever. The
games were broadcast by telegraph to all the far corners of the planet and even groups of
tourists aboard the cruise ships coming from New York were asking for admission to the
halls of the Centro Asturiano. The hosts were magnificent: first-class champagne was served
free of charge to Steinitz, whereas Chigorin preferred strong and aromatic sherry. While the
world champion stayed at the Hotel El Telégrafo, his rival accepted the hospitality of his
friend and personal translator Arturo de Beón, who lived at 4 E Street in El Vedado, an
exclusive neighborhood of Havana.
After several weeks of battle, the match favored Steinitz by a narrow margin of 9–8
(draws did not count). On Sunday, January 28, before the multitude crowding the hall, esti-
mated by Steinitz at around 1,900 attendants, which was the largest audience ever recorded
for a chess game at that time, Chigorin surrendered his king, after committing one of the
worst mistakes of his life. He blundered just when it seemed that victory was within his
grasp, which would have tied the match at 9 points. Vázquez, as usual (El Pablo Morphy,
Volume I, number 5, Havana, 15 February 1892, page 154), recorded the dramatic moment:
We were expecting Mr. Steinitz’ surrender any minute.... Suddenly, a rare flurry was noticed. The
audience rose to their feet. The Russian master was seen, nervous and flustered, raising in
anguish a hand on his head. He had withdrawn, needlessly and rashly, the guardian bishop that
would have saved him from a checkmate. What a pity, repeated hundreds of voices. What an
unpleasant and disastrous way to end a superb match for the world championship....
Actually, it was hardly surprising that something like that would happen to a person as
nervous as Chigorin. As a matter of fact, that was evidenced in the previous game, the match’s
22nd, when after White’s move 35, played by Steinitz, Chigorin captured a protected rook
with his king, in an illegal play. Immediately upon realizing his mistake, he apologized and
Steinitz accepted it, without imposing on him the penalty of moving his king. The game
continued, but Steinitz was not pleased with Chigorin, who did not show the courtesy of
surrendering shortly after and went on to play 15 more moves. Such an event was a signal
that anything could happen after that.
William Steinitz–Mikhail Chigorin [D55]

World Championship, 22nd Game, Havana, 25 February 1892
1. Nf3 d5 2. d4 e6 3. c4 Nf6 4. Nc3 Be7 5. Bg5 0–0 6. e3 rDwDw4kD
b6 7. Rc1 Bb7 8. Be2 Nbd7 9. c×d5 N×d5 10. N×d5 B×d5 0w$wDw$p
11. B×e7 Q×e7 12. R×c7 Qd6 13. Rc3 B×a2 14. e4 Qb4 w0wDwDqD
15. Qa1 Bb3 16. Nd2 Bc2 17. Rc4 Qd6 18. R×c2 Q×d4 19. 0– DwDw0wDw
0 Nc5 20. Bf3 e5 21. Rd1 Qb4 22. Qa3 Qb5 23. Nc4 Ne6 n)wDPDw)
24. Rd5 Qc6 25. Rc3 Nf4 26. Rd6 Qe8 27. g3 Nh3+ 28. Kg2 !wDwDB)w
Ng5 29. h4 Ne6 30. N×e5 Nc5 31. Rd5 f6 32. b4 Na4 33. Rc7 wDwDw)KD
f×e5 34. Rdd7 Qg6 35. R×g7+ (see diagram) DwDwDwDw
Here Chigorin tried to capture the rook in g7 with his king, After 35. R×g7+
an illegal move because of the other White rook at c7. After apol-
ogizing, Chigorin captured the rook with his queen and continued playing pointlessly until
the 49th move, and resigned. 35. ... Q×g7 36. R×g7+ K×g7 37. Q×a4 Rf7 38. Bg4 Rd8
39. Qb5 Re7 40. Qc6 Rf8 41. Bf5 Rf6 42. Qd5 h5 43. Qd8 Ref7 44. Qe8 R×f5 45. e×f5
R×f5 46. Qe7+ Rf7 47. Q×e5+ Kg6 48. Qg5+ Kh7 49. Q×h5+ Black resigned. 1–0.
That game revealed to Steinitz his opponent’s true emotional state and could very well
explain what some have considered speculations and carelessness on his part in the develop-
ment of the last game, as if he had the conviction that nerves would betray his rival. It is
curious that few commentators have pondered Chigorin’s disastrous performance in the
next-to-last game, and what is worse, that they failed to interpret it as a foreshadowing of
what happened two days later.53 But the explanation given by Steinitz in the June 1894 issue
of the British Chess Magazine (page 283) is eloquent proof that both of them were at the
verge of breaking down.
At that time [the 1892 match] I was suffering terribly from insomnia, and so was my opponent.
Night after night I lay scarcely sleeping, and in fever. But my physician, who was backing me
with a large amount [of money] and who knew by experience what he was talking about, said
that, in his opinion, there was nothing that would produce so severe strain on all the vital
organs, brain, heart, liver, and nerves as chess, and that it would be detrimental even to get sleep
by artificial means.
The day after the end of the last game, and with it the hard-fought match, the last game
was subjected to a rigorous analysis conducted by Golmayo, who assumed Chigorin’s role.
Across the board from him was the champion, alongside other members of the Havana Chess
Club, among them Dr. Carlos J. Finlay—all of them, acting in consultation as a super Steinitz.
It was Finlay, according to Vázquez, who showed the world champion his analysis of the
position prior to Chigorin’s great mistake.54 Steinitz confirmed that what the wise Cuban
saw on the board was not devoid of value. On the contrary, it showed accurately that White
would still have had to play carefully to win, because Black had some chances for a draw.
Such an illustrious figure in the history of medicine deserves to have his passion and talent
for the game universally recognized in a chess book:
Mikhail Chigorin–William Steinitz [C34]

World Championship, 23rd Game, Havana, 28 February 1892
wDwDwDwD 1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 Nf6 4. e5 Nh5 5. Be2 g6 6. d4

0pDw$wDp Bg7 7. 0–0 d6 8. Nc3 0–0 9. Ne1 d×e5 10. B×h5 g×h5 11. d×e5
wDwGNibD Q×d1 12. N×d1 Nc6 13. B×f4 Bf5 14. Ne3 Be4 15. Nf3 Rfe8
DwDPDpDw 16. Ng5 Bg6 17. Nd5 B×e5 18. N×c7 B×c7 19. B×c7 Rac8
wDwDwDw0 20. Bg3 Nd4 21. c3 Ne2+ 22. Kf2 h4 23. Bd6 Nd4 24. c×d4
DwDwDwDw Rc2+ 25. Kg1 Ree2 26. Rae1 R×g2+ 27. Kh1 Kg7 28. Re8 f5
P)w4rDw) 29. Ne6+ Kf6 30. Re7 Rge2 31. d5 Rcd2 (see diagram)
DwDwDRDK 32. Bb4? “Truly the blunder of the century,” wrote another
After 31. … Rcd2 world chess champion, Garry Kasparov, a hundred years later.
Clemente Vázquez commented in the magazine El Pablo Morphy
that after the game, Dr. Carlos J. Finlay proposed the following variations 32. R×b7 Bh5
threatening a check with the bishop at f3, and if White takes the bishop, a check with one
of the rooks on the first rank and mate the next move, 33. Rb3 (also winning is 33. Rg7
R×e6 34. d×e6 K×g7 35. Be5+ Kg8 36. R×f5 h3 37. Kg1 Rg2+ 38. Kf1 Bg6 39. e7 Bf7
40. b4 Rg6 41. Bd4, according to postmortem analysis) 33. ... Bf7 34. Nf4 (Finlay also gave
The 1889 and 1892 matches between Steinitz (right) and Chigorin made Havana the Mecca of
world chess. Steinitz wrote that Cuban fans invited “the strongest chess masters, whom they
remunerate liberally and treat with the most considerate and generous hospitality” (El Pablo
Morphy, 1892).
the variation 34. Nc7 R×d5 35. N×d5+ B×d5+ 36. Kg1 Rg2+ 37. Kh1 Rd2+ 38. Kg1 B×b3
39. a×b3 R×d6 and Black wins) 34. ... R×h2+ 35. Kg1 Some commentators ended their
analysis here and said that White wins. Finlay continued with 35. ... Rhg2+ 36. N×g2 B×d5
37. Rf2 (White wins more easily with 37. N×h4 B×b3 38. Bb4 Re2 39. a×b3) 37. ... Rd1+
38. Kh2 B×b3 39. N×h4 B×a2 and White wins. 32. ... R×h2+ White resigned. 0–1.
Thus, Steinitz retained for the last time the world’s chess crown. Neither he nor Chi-
gorin would ever return to Havana, a city that bore many memories for both, especially for
Steinitz, who spent there some of the best times of his somewhat stormy existence. In all,
the Bohemian master visited the Cuban capital four times, staying there a total of slightly
more than four months. It would have been longer had Zukertort or Tarrasch agreed to
compete with him on the island. Cuba was a closing chapter in their lives. However, the
interest aroused by their games and presence opened another one in the history of chess.
2. Tadeo’s Saga
After many years of slipping through the grip of death, Major Tadeo Capablanca Broca
decided to summon it.
Until that day came it was as if a goddess, forewarned that the exclusive realm of immor-
tality awaited one of Tadeo’s descendants, cast a protective mantle over him. When Tadeo
was born on May 22, 1836, in Valdepeñas, Ciudad Real, Spain, his father, Judas Tadeo Anto-
nio Pablo José Jaime Luis Domingo Francisco y Fabián Capablanca Diez, was a man over-
whelmed by the unfavorable circumstances of his life. Upon his demise he would leave his
heirs at the mercy of saints and guardian ancestors, but no financial comfort to his son Tadeo,
or the other five offspring from his second wife María Antonia Broca, after the death of the
first one, Ana María Mercedes Tentor Marcoletta.
Judas Tadeo explained in his will that he had lost everything after the French invasion
of 1808, against which he fought in the popular uprising of Madrid, a city he finally had to
flee on August 23, 1809, going to Sevilla and later to Cádiz. For his heroic stance he was
“decorated with the Cross of distinction of the first days of December 1808 for the defense
of the capital,” as stated in his official records.1
Napoleon’s decision to conquer Spain was a devastating blow for Judas Tadeo and for-
ever marked the future of the Capablanca clan. Not only did he lose all his assets, but his
family remained divided after his first wife, Ana María Tentor Marcoletta, had to seek refuge
in Majorca with their two children, Rafael María and María Loredo. Once there, new and
grievous misfortunes took her to the grave prematurely. Another event that would decisively
affect the rest of Judas Tadeo’s life was the second French invasion in 1823, under the flags
of the Holy Alliance, which was intended to restore the absolute powers of King Fernando
VII after the 1820 Revolution that briefly renewed the 1812 Cádiz Constitution.
The collapse of the so-called Liberal Triennium (1820–1823) put an end to the legal
career of Judas Tadeo, who confessed that “on account of the period’s vicissitudes and my
being out of office from the years 1823 until 1833, I find myself in arrears and facing debts,
as shown in my cashbook....” His life at the end of the second French occupation under the
auspices of the Allied powers would be a frustrating low-level provincial existence, very dis-
tant from his family’s previous preeminent position as royal court employees, including his
own as judge.
After the restoration of the Spanish monarchy under Fernando VII (1813–1820 and
1823–1833), documents mentioning Judge Judas Tadeo Capablanca say that “there was nothing
against his conduct and patriotism” in the findings of the public security court of Madrid, when
many officers were tried for collaborating with the Napoleonic troops. Some of those summaries
50
were intended to extol and magnify his official duties, mentioning that he was given “impor-
tant assignments” by the Spanish Supreme Court. But in all truth, his own personal reports
show that his judicial posts were minor, just as his positions as corregidor, or mayor, were
never in important places. Reading those reports leaves no doubts that they were adminis-
trative trivialities, such as requesting the transfer of inmates due to poor conditions at the
local jail, or raising funds for public works. His record as judiciary authority always shows
him in the lesser capacity of minor judgeships in the lower examining courts.2
Towards the end of his life, after the death of Fernando VII in 1833 and the return of
a less oppressive climate, Judas Tadeo is seen as a public figure elected to local positions, at
places such as the Palaces of Valduerna in León, in northern Spain. From that period dates
the outline published by the magazine Argutorio that portrays a successful 19th-century local
character. There we find a brief description of him that is neither flattering nor exact, because,
as we have seen, his financial woes were directly preceded by Napoleon’s invasion and became
worse afterwards because of his liberal political position and the return of absolute powers
under Fernando VII.
This [ Judas] Tadeo Capablanca had a bachelor’s degree in jurisprudence and in his youth must
have been a “hotheaded liberal,” attending the Cádiz Cortes. The return of Fernando VII meant
hard times and much financial distress for him, being so debt-ridden that when he attained that
position he would not turn down any gifts or bribes from our D. Francisco Forty Cows
[Martínez Martínez].3
The same article explains some previous events that took place in the city: “Upon the
death of King Fernando VII on September 29, 1833, and as a result of the liberal trends of
the time, the post of senior mayor of the Señorío de Palacios de la Valduerna was given to
Don [ Judas] Tadeo Capablanca, and the subject of our biography, Don Francisco’s Forty
Cows, became a good friend of his....” When Judas Tadeo died in Madrid on July 4, 1844, the
family’s source of income was extinguished and the only inheritance left was the debt built
up over the years, a liability of which he had been well aware, as clearly stated in his will. A
testimony of the widow’s horrendous financial situation is found in her petition to the Spanish
Parliament in 1849, requesting a pension: “Considering that she is completely destitute and
without any resources to educate her six sons, all minors.” The commission that read her claim
submitted it to the Ministry of Mercy and Justice, as documented on page 452 of the Parlia-
ment Diary of 1849. Whether or not that relieved her hardships remains unknown.
It is not known whether Judas Tadeo, born in Madrid on January 15, 1784, was the first
of the Capablanca family hailing from the capital of the empire, instead of one of its pos-
sessions, since both his father and his grandfather, Domingo Joaquín Sixto Capablanca
(1739–1789) and Santiago Capablanca, had certificates identifying them as natives of Naples.4
The Capablancas’ timetable prior to the birth of Judas Tadeo is still inconclusively researched.
However, it would not be illogical to trace the family by way of Spain–Naples–Spain; or
Portugal–Spain–Naples–Spain; and even considering the surname, Portugal–Italy–Spain;
instead of accepting as true the only path suggested up to the present: Naples–Spain. The
known facts don’t suffice to validate one hypothesis or another.
As indicated, official documents corroborate that at least two direct paternal ancestors
of Judas Tadeo Capablanca Diez were from (or residents of ) the Kingdom of Naples, but
not so Ana María Josefa Diez Barceló, wife of Domingo Joaquín Sixto Capablanca, who is
identified as coming from one of the most prominent families of the former Kingdom of
León, as well as from Majorca. This stresses the possibility that generations preceding
Domingo Joaquín or his father Santiago Capablanca could have arrived at Camparia, in
Italy’s southern region, coming from Spain or Portugal. There is no definitive evidence that
Capablanca was a Castilian surname (several heraldries identify it as Portuguese), or one
that was Castilianized from the Italian Capabianca to Capablanca, as assumed in 1922, 138
years after the birth of Judas Tadeo by the most famous one of them, José Raúl Fausto.
It was during José Raúl Capablanca’s visit to Philadelphia in 1922 that the subject was
mentioned for the first time in the American press by Walter Penn Shipley in the magazine
The Good Companion, in April of that year: “Mr. Capablanca’s early ancestors were Italians.
The name was originally Capa Bianca, meaning white cloak. They settled in Spain during
the reign of Carlos IV and the name became Capablanca.”5 Inasmuch as the birth certificates
of Santiago and Domingo Capablanca prove that the name was already Castilianized at the
time both resided in Naples, Capablanca’s explanation to Shipley was incorrect, at least as
far as the adaptation of the surname; had that been the case, it would have taken place prior
to Domingo Joaquín Sixto Capablanca’s trip to the Iberian peninsula, where his son Judas
Tadeo was born in the second half of the 18th century.
In at least another instance the press dealt with Capablanca’s Italian ancestry, and in a
decidedly humorous vein at that. It was during the Buenos Aires match, when the newspaper
Crítica published in its September 26, 1927, issue:
CAPABLANCA OR CAPABIANCA ?
Will Musso [Mussolini] hand the royal title to the chess champion?
News from Cuba informs us that an old bearded bibliophile, after researching dusty and
yellow documents in Havana files, has stated that the chess champion of the world, Don José
Raúl Capablanca y Graupera, descends from an old Italian family by the name of Capabianca.
We also managed to question our illustrious contributor [at the time, Capablanca used to
write columns for Crítica about the world championship] regarding the veracity of such infor-
mation, completely unknown throughout chess circles, Argentinean and worldwide. The cham-
pion replied: “Personally, I know nothing about such a thing. However, I do remember that a
grand-uncle of mine used to say that one of our ancestors, three or four centuries ago, was Italian
and his name was Capabianca, a surname that was adapted into the Spanish language. In any
case, it would please me if the information was exact.”
—“Why? Does your Spanish ancestry bother you?”
—“Not at all. On the contrary, I am quite satisfied with it. But”—the champion went on mis-
chievously—“it wouldn’t be at all unusual for Mussolini to make me a duke, at the very least,
were he to learn that Italian blood ran through the veins of the universal champion in the most
noble game of chess.”
Since Naples had first been a possession of the Kingdom of Navarra, and later of the
numerous avatars of the Kingdom of Castilla and Aragón since the 16th century, it is justi-
fiable to assume a wide-ranging movement between both peninsulas, the Iberian and the
Italian, back then mainly among royal officers and courtiers such as the Capablancas. In
Domingo Capablanca’s case it is known that “he was the valet of H.M. [His Majesty], serving
at the side of Carlos IIII [sic], from the age of nine, and taking his wife from the family of
the Nobles Dieces [from the patronymic Diez] of León and niece of General Dn. Antonio
Barceló.”6
The social position of the Capablancas in the 18th century was certainly better and
more prominent than it would be in the mid- and late 19th century, since until then it was
recognized that “they had enjoyed equal rights in Court, for which they have been well known,”
besides enjoying “the Decorum and Distinction of the Privilege of Nobility for his class” as
“shown in the Probative Books and others.”7
Mentioning that María Josefa, Domingo Capablanca’s wife, was a niece of Lieutenant
General of the Navy Antonio Barceló is significant, because it provides an insight about the
exclusive social group in which the family moved back then. Barceló was one of the most
renowned military men of his time, rubbing elbows with the highest echelons of the empire,
and was also a popular hero. Even Andalusian coplas praise his exploits:
Si el Rey de España If the King of Spain had
tuviera cuatro como Barceló Four like Barceló
Gibraltar sería de España Gibraltar would be Spanish
y de Inglaterra no. And not English.
Admiral Barceló was one of those glory-covered heroes who became rich and climbed
up the social ladder without coming from a family of hidalgos. Napoleon is often quoted as
coining the phrase “every private carries a marshal’s baton in his backpack,” a concept con-
sidered a sine qua non of bonapartism, in the sense that there was no need to be highborn
to climb the social ladder. It was a half-truth in the sense that similar phenomena were also
happening elsewhere, although not in identical proportions nor proclaimed with the same
progressive stance as Napoleon’s. Many of the great Spanish captains from the time of the
conquest of America were adventurers, commoners who built their own hidalguías and for-
tunes on the basis of a personal epic.
Antonio Barceló was made of that same stock, two hundred years after the period of
conquest and colonization of America. It is necessary, however, to point out that he did not
match the usual archetype of the poor unknown who becomes rich and famous, since his
father was the owner and captain of a small commercial vessel known as a jabeque, at a time
when any ship, of any size, was one of the most expensive possessions anyone could have.
It was Barceló who brought order to the chaotic Mediterranean Sea, helping to cleanse
it of Algerian pirates, but above all, covering himself with glory during the siege and capture
of Gibraltar in 1779. His modification of several vessels gave rise to what naval historians
would later call gunboats, the forerunners of modern armored ships.
Antonio Barceló’s successful military career was an 18th century rarity, considering
that at the time the Spanish Empire’s highest political and economic spheres were limited.
Still, his trajectory shows similarities with those of other high-ranking officers from the
social outskirts of the kingdom who, before and after him, rose to the highest levels as a
result of their talents and daring.
These examples are evident in the case of the Cuban mulato Francisco Díaz Pimientas,
who also happened to be an illegitimate child of Jewish origin, during the times of the Inqui-
sition, and who eventually became general of the navy of the Indies in the 17th century; or
the black Eusebio Puello from Santo Domingo, who was promoted to nothing less than field
marshal, by Isabel II in the 19th century.
The luster that the name and feats of Barceló gave to the Capablanca family were a
thing of the past when Tadeo Capablanca Broca was born in 1836, notwithstanding that his
father, Judas Tadeo, studied law at the University of Alcalá de Henares; or that after
Napoleon’s defeat in Spain he was appointed mayor of Chinchón, in the outskirts of Madrid;
or that he was even identified with the pompous title of magistrate, even though most often
it was an honorary title, as he was not assigned a fixed court over which to preside.
The family’s prestige of old was barely kept by the military career of Rafael María Capa-
blanca Tentor, who rose to coronel graduado (lieutenant colonel), chief of the 5th Cavalry
Regiment of Jarneiro. He later became briefly bayle (mayor) of the city of Valencia, and in
his second marriage took for his wife the daughter of General Antonio Garrigó. Rafael María
was one of the two sons of the first marriage of Judas Tadeo Capablanca, when his family
influence was enough to send him to the army’s officer school; he graduated with the rank
of cavalry lieutenant, and was henceforth assigned to the Royal Guard Cuirassiers Regi-
ment.8
Such an event, a Capablanca serving closely in the protection of the King of Spain,
completed the other half of the first of a series of historical coincidences between two of the
most celebrated geniuses of chess, Paul Morphy and José Raúl Capablanca, long before either
was born. The first half took place in the 18th century when Michael Murphy, Paul Morphy’s
great-grandfather, preceded Rafael María Capablanca in the Royal Palace Guard with the
rank of captain. The next came with the birth in Spain of both Diego Morphy, Paul Morphy’s
grandfather, and Judas Tadeo, great-grandfather of José Raúl Capablanca: Diego in Málaga
and Judas Tadeo in Madrid. Regarding those events it should also be taken in consideration
that apparently both families resorted to changing their surnames for social adaptation pur-
poses: from Murphy to Morphy in one case and from Capabianca to Capablanca in the
other, if that really happened in the Capablanca family.
It was Colonel Rafael María Capablanca who performed a special role in helping his
brother Tadeo, who, deprived of personal assets or family wealth, had no other choice than
to enlist in the army with one of the lowest ranks. Contrary to Rafael María, he did not
enter an officer’s school with the pomp and praise of a long list of “quality witnesses” attesting
to his lineage and “purity of blood,” but as a simple volunteer trying to make the best of his
difficult life.
Upon reaching the age of 16 Tadeo had no other valid option: to be conscriped or to
volunteer. So when he chose the “illustrious duty of the arms” on May 1, 1852, as his brother
Rafael María would write in the pompous style of the age, he had not the slightest idea that
the decision would extend to three decades until May 1882, when the Spanish army dis-
charged him. He was in haggard shape, after two illnesses that would have taken a lesser man
to the grave. When that moment arrived, Tadeo was barely 46 years old.
In those 30 years and 30 days, he was promoted from enlisted private to major and was
awarded the orders Merit of the Homeland, the Isabel la Católica Cross, the Medal for the
Cuban Campaign with Red Badge, the Recognition of the Homeland and the Military Merit
Cross. It was a rather impressive list, specially for someone who was twice arrested and sen-
tenced to prison during his military career, serving time at the Castle of San Severino in
Matanzas (1871), and the Morro Castle in Havana (1877), both times for deserting his post
in wartime.
Tadeo was promoted to corporal the same day he enlisted in the army at one squadron
of the Zaragoza Cavalry Regiment. Then he was immediately transferred to a regimental
headquarters in Madrid, most likely at his brother’s request. An event on April 8, 1853, was
crucial to his continuance in the army and his subsequent destiny. On that day, Rafael María
asked the commander of the Madrid army district to promote Tadeo to the rank of sergeant,
so that he could remain in the army as a professional soldier. The promotion request to ser-
geant second class was granted the same day, a clear indication of the prestige that Colonel
Rafael María Capablanca enjoyed within the military ranks.9
In April 1853 Corporal Tadeo Capablanca’s professional life began to take shape when his half-
brother, Lieutenant Colonel Rafael María Capablanca, asked the military commander of Madrid
to promote Tadeo to sergeant, making it possible for him to start a career as a soldier (author’s
collection).
After a year in the Madrid and Zaragoza garrisons, Tadeo10 was transferred to other
zones in the northern frontiers of Spain, where he served without the close protection of
his older brother in Victoria (present day Vitoria) in Burgos, in Pamplona and later in
Logroño. Perhaps in Pamplona, where he was posted in 1859, Tadeo met his future wife,
Josefa Fernández Brieva, whose father, José Fernández, was a low-ranking officer in the army.
Late in August 1860, Tadeo was discharged from the “Lusitania Army and passed to
the Army of the Island of Cuba,” according to a Royal Order of June 24, as documented in
his records. The transfer to Cuba of the military unit where Tadeo served was not a simple
movement of troops or rotation, but part of the long-term strategic project to blanquear
(“whiten”) Cuba, whose population was composed in its vast majority of Creoles, mulattoes,
slaves and emancipated blacks. Of these, the last two groups amounted to 221,417 inhabitants
in 1862, just in the city of Havana.
For Madrid, blanquear had a very particular semantic connotation: it meant increasing
the number of Spaniards in Cuba. Figures from 1860 show clearly that the paltry population
of peninsulares (from the mainland) and isleños (from the Canary Islands) scarcely added to
82,000 residents, 90 percent of them male. As of that date, the entire island had a million
and a half inhabitants. By then, the first objective of changing the ethnic ratio had already
been accomplished, since the blacks and the mulattoes were not the majority. So it was only
a matter of increasing the number of Spaniards.
Besides the racist implications, the plans to blanquear the island were at the very least
a curious way of defining the attempt of long-term dominion. The population censuses of
the period, and even the ecclesiastical record books, referred to white males born in Spain
as a different and superior category to white males born in Cuba.11 In the metropolis there
was a deep-seated fear that Cuba would follow the same pro-independence path of the former
Spanish colonies in America, or worse, a Haiti-like rebellion of black slaves, although there
was a moment when Spain used the threat to “Africanize” Cuba (meaning an abolition of
slavery without compensation for the slave owners) as a way to extort the Creole oligarchy
when it eagerly sought annexation by the United States.
Documents of the period reveal that the number of Spaniards who traveled to Cuba
between 1868 and 1878 was 708,734, among them 291,110 soldiers, which supports the seri-
ousness of the “whitening” project, in spite of which its ultimate purpose of preventing the
independence of the island was not accomplished. The troop movements that began early
in the 1860s had as its prime objective to reconquer Mexico and Santo Domingo (Hispaniola)
for the crown of Spain. Both endeavors ended badly, especially the invasion of Hispaniola,
in which Tadeo participated, nearly losing his life. There he meritoriously continued his
habit of not letting death gain the upper hand on him.
In those circumstances, Tadeo boarded the frigate Estrella in Cádiz on November 4,
1860, and landed on December 16 in Havana,12 where he was transferred to the Second
Squadron of the King’s Regiment. Before the transfer he was promoted to “warrant officer
by election,” a category on the lower edge of sub-officer; and on April 23th to second lieu-
tenant, “for seniority,” a proper rank within the Spanish cavalry. Holding that rank, he was
sent to the city of Bayamo in Cuba’s southeast, some 675 kilometers from Havana, where he
arrived in late August 1861.
The prevailing atmosphere in Cuba during 1860 has been defined by many historians
as one of prewar, although the tensions were not so acutely noticed in the city of Havana.
The arrival of Spanish troops was hardly a novelty for the city residents, well accustomed to
the shuffling around of military contingents. Of all places in Cuba, none was in such a state
of turmoil as the eastern part, the Oriental Department, which at the time encompassed
seven of the island’s current provinces, including the city of Bayamo 415 miles (667 kilome-
ters) from Havana. The city had an age-old reputation for smuggling, and therefore an exten-
sive background of hard-headed denizens, used to doing things their way and with little
regard for the strict monopolistic commercial regulations dictated in far-off Madrid.
It was precisely in Bayamo where one of the previously described earliest tales of chess
in Cuba originated in the 16th century. In Yara, a hamlet near Manzanillo, within the Bayamo
jurisdiction, lived the Céspedes family, owners of La Demajagua sugar mill. Carlos Manuel,
the most prominent of them, had a great influence in the island’s game development, being
the translator of de la Bourdonnais’ Noveau Traité du jeu des échecs, as mentioned before, so
there is a distinct possibility that Tadeo Capablanca and Carlos Manuel de Céspedes may
have met somewhere on the streets or institutions of the Bayamo region, even though neither
one of them could have surmised, back in 1862 or 1863, what destiny had in store for them. 13
Since Spain couldn’t exert a great deterrent power in Cuba in 1860, with just 7,000
troops thinly spread all over the island, Tadeo’s transfer to Bayamo seems rather unusual,
considering that the city lacked strategic value or a sizeable slave population to watch over.
It seems likely that he may have requested the transfer in order to join his future wife, Josefa.
Perhaps her father’s hand was also involved. That scant military presence on the island at
that particular time was backed by a militia of several thousand volunteers, a sort of para-
military horde infamous for its outrages.14 The major military garrisons were concentrated
in and around Havana and Matanzas, the main trading centers, home of wealth and the
finest sugar mills, but also harboring a massive slave population that in the last two decades
had shown a tendency to revolt. Thus Spain wanted to keep its soldiers close to the slaves’
quarters and not in a remote location.
Fears of a slave rebellion had increased in the wake of a large conspiracy discovered in
1844. Hundreds of executions ensued and Madrid rushed to send more soldiers, who were
eventually withdrawn from the island when the danger subsided. In Havana, an enormous
fortress had been built in 1779 atop a commanding hill known as Loma de Aróstegui, with
a dual purpose: a prison and a garrison capable of housing a large number of troops, ready
to deploy military units with ease and speed from an elevated vantage point, towards the
nearby center of the city in case of attack from the sea or to protect Havana’s west flank. It
was named El Castillo del Príncipe (The Prince’s Castle), in honor of Prince Felipe II.
In 1860, at least in the western half of Cuba, including Havana, Matanzas and Las Villas
provinces, normalcy had apparently returned. However, in the eastern half of the island the
economy and social affairs were deplorable. Sugar mills there were still powered by oxen, at
a time when almost everyone in western Cuba was equipped with steam engines. Slavery in
the east was unprofitable and clearly dispensable. New taxes decreed by Spain in 1860 made
the already critical conditions explosive. The region became a proverbial powder keg waiting
to blow up, and that’s exactly what happened.
Tadeo spent all of 1862 and the first months of 1863 in Bayamo, and it was then and
there that on January 25 his son José María was born, from his union with Josefa.15 A quick
look at the birth registry of Tadeo and Josefa’s children raises suspicions that they were not
born within the canons of the rigid Spanish civil structure regarding marriages at the time.
But if Tadeo waited until 1867 to formally request permission from the Spanish army to
marry, that doesn’t necessarily mean that at least he wasn’t married by the church.16 The
Archbishop of Santiago de Cuba, Antonio María Claret, was well known for his efforts to
consecrate consensual unions in accordance to Christian principles, and occasionally to go
as far as officiating at collective ceremonies. In a pastoral letter, dated June 21, 1851, he
instructed the parish priests about the need and urgency to wed couples who were living
together. Claret’s preaching was supported by the island’s captain general, Juan de la Pezuela.
Perhaps Tadeo and Josefa’s decision to marry in the church was a common one at the
time, accepted officially and by the families, because the bureaucratic red tape in Spain was
notoriously slow. Eventually, obtaining the royal permits was indispensable for any other
civil process, but apparently it wasn’t a priority in the mind of a young couple in love. Com-
mon law unions were not an isolated social phenomenon in mid–19th century Cuba. Far
from it; they were quite common outside the narrow circles of the higher classes, where
formal marriages were a strict prerequisite in matters of inheritance, ownership of wealth
and titles of nobility. Since the peninsular emigration to Cuba was 90 percent male, soldiers
and other men had no choice but to spend their lives shacking up with black, mixed-race or
socially excluded white Creole women. Archbishop Claret’s efforts were aimed at solving
such conflicts. In Tadeo Capablanca’s case, he could afford to pay the ecclesiastical fees for
the ceremony. Even if that hadn’t been within his reach, he could have been granted a credit
to pay in installments, as stipulated in the instructions provided by Claret to the clergy of
his archbishopric.
At any rate, it is not clearly established if such church marriages, without the queen’s
authorization, were common amongst officers of the army in Cuba. Testimonies and family
accounts fail to mention the apparently unusual character of that bond. Neither is it possible
to discern if it was a source of strain in the relations between Tadeo, a second lieutenant
then, and his higher-ranking father-in-law, José Fernández, an infantry captain. Whether as
a result of a very limited love market, or out of true affection, perhaps Josefa Fernández
Brieva just followed a simple universal pattern and eloped with him, when the courtship did
not receive parental blessing. Subsequent events could be interpreted as family retaliation
for her behavior, or as a quirk of history unexpectedly requiring his military services far
away. In April, he was suddenly transferred to the San Antonio de los Baños garrison, in
Havana, a place where he would remain deployed until March 7, 1864, when he was selected
to be part of the expeditionary corps set to invade Santo Domingo Island a few weeks later,
a sequence that hints at a possible punishment.
Tadeo had already survived the Cádiz–Havana trip, a voyage that usually proved fatal
for a significant number of troops. Nor did he perish during the months of adaptation to
the inhospitable conditions of Cuba’s climate that awaited the newly arrived Spaniards. Now
he had his first big chance to show and broaden his recently earned reputation as a survivor.
The Santo Domingo adventure took place when that country’s first president, Pedro Santana,
back in power and fearing the threat of another Haitian occupation, signed an annexation
treaty on March 18, 1865, with Spain, which was bent on doing whatever it took to recover
parts of its former empire. On May 19, Queen Isabel II granted the request at the precise
moment when a revolt against the treaty was imminent. Things went from bad to worse
from the beginning; the Spanish troops, coming from Cuba and Puerto Rico, were landing
in the worst month of the year, at the start of the rainy season.
The treaty was not welcomed by the citizens of that republic; it had a large black and
mixed-race population, for whom a return to slavery, as it existed in Cuba, seemed like a
very real possibility. A civil war broke out and the confrontations with the expeditionary
forces began. A Spanish column of 1,000 soldiers, commanded by a colonel named Cappa,
vainly attempted to break the siege around the city of Santiago de los Caballeros. Tadeo
fought there in several skirmishes, none of which could be classified as a battle. According
to his military dossier: “During his stay in that Island of Santo Domingo, it has been found
in the actions carried out by the column commanded by Colonel Suárez, assisting at the sur-
prise of Gala del Río de Jaba and capture of Calahuana, and at the orders of the esteemed
Señor Alguarán in the clash at Sabana de Trabo and burning of the Sta. Cruz trench.”
In Santo Domingo, Tadeo avoided the bullets but was not so lucky when it came to
the typical diseases of inhospitable tropical places. In October he was relocated on sick leave
to Cuba, where he recovered and survived but remained debilitated for the rest of his life.
The Santo Domingo expedition was a total disaster for Spain. Manuel Moreno Fraginals
estimates that 8,147 soldiers died in the military hospitals of Havana, Santiago de Cuba,
Gibara, Holguín, Puerto Príncipe (present day Camagüey), Cárdenas and Matanzas. The
parochial archives of the San Juan Cathedral in Puerto Rico registered 2,825 more deaths.
Fraginals estimates the Spanish army’s casualties at 20,000, including those who fell ill and
died in Spain upon their return, or endured the ravages of yellow fever, malaria or cholera
for the rest of their lives.17
After the debacle and his return to the military hospital of San Antonio de los Baños,
Tadeo spent half a year on sick leave. It is not possible to ascertain when he was reunited
with Josefa and their children. Military records are restricted to events in camp and show
no details of family life. It is known that he returned to active duty on May of 1866, right
in San Antonio de los Baños, the seat of a strong garrison, and later in the city of Havana.
On October 10, 1868, while Tadeo’s regiment guarded the important sugar-producing
zone of Sabanillas, in the Matanzas province, an insurrection broke out in Cuba. Early that
morning, at his sugar mill, Carlos Manuel de Céspedes gathered all his slaves, freed them
and declared the start of the island’s independence struggle.18 The war lasted ten years and
ended with a peace treaty that became known as the Pacto del Zanjón, February 10, 1878,
by which Spain agreed to return once more the status of autonomous province to Cuba, a
condition that had been revoked in 1825 by martial law, and to grant amnesty to the rebels
who lay down their arms. Céspedes did not live to see that. On February 27, 1874, he was
caught off guard by a Spanish column on the San Lorenzo Peak and died in the clash. After-
wards, his chess board was found, showing the position of an unfinished game.
Tadeo, however, lived to tell his story, although during most of those long ten years of
war he was in and out of combat zones where skirmishes and engagements were a daily affair.
His service record allows us to track him to the Trinidad Valley, grounds of many armed
confrontations, to the south of what was at the time the Las Villas province (presently Sancti
Spiritus); in Puerto Príncipe and Guantánamo, near the eastern end of the island. Twice he
became fed up with the fighting and deserted. Both times he was detained, jailed and sent
back to the front. The second time, he was assigned in punishment to a logistics detail called
“the mule’s battalion.” At the time, Spaniard deserters were not executed, merely sent back
to dangerous war zones, where the risk of falling in combat was great. This practice also
illustrated the acute shortage of troops. Spain’s benevolent policy toward deserters apparently
seemed guided by the principle that if they were going to die anyway, they might as well do
so facing the enemy.
The colonial army’s casualties for that decade were horrific. Out of 291,110 soldiers
sent to Cuba between 1868 and 1878, only 63,349 returned to the Iberian Peninsula. As the
Santo Domingo fiasco had shown earlier, the leading cause of those casualties was once again
the tropical diseases.19 In Cuban history that strife came to be called the Ten Years’ War. It
was a period of merciless bloodshed in which the population of the island’s eastern region
was largely destroyed. The treaty that ended it did not accomplish a complete pacification
because General Antonio Maceo, a mixed-race warrior who rose on his own merits to become
one of the main Cuban rebel leaders, did not subscribe to the agreement. Maceo met with
Spain’s captain general in Cuba, General Arsenio Martínez-Campos, at a place known as
Mangos de Baraguá, at the center of the eastern military actions’ theater, but the peace con-
ditions fell short of granting independence. That was unacceptable for Maceo, and after a
brief truce the hostilities continued. The new conflict would be called La Guerra Chiquita
(the Small War), and it went on for several months, until December 3, when finally the last
of the leading pro-independence fighters lay down their arms and accepted the treaty.
Although Tadeo managed to live through those bloody years, once again he contracted
a disease that the military records didn’t even bother to identify. It was probably typhus,
malaria or yellow fever. Notwithstanding that relapse, he would become one of the very few
witnesses to the long struggle from beginning to end. In late August 1878, the army consid-
ered that it had drained enough out of him and transferred him back home, while he was
still recovering. From then on notes of his path through life become scant. On December
16, exactly 18 years after his arrival in Havana on 1860, he returned to the Iberian Peninsula,
landing at the port of Cádiz, “going on to Madrid to establish his residence,” according to a
brief notation in his file. After such an extended absence from Spain, Tadeo discovered what
many other emigrants or soldiers before him had learned: that his native land was no longer
his country. He would then spend a month and a half knocking on doors, writing petitions
and imploring a return to the island, where his family apparently had remained.
On March 10, 1879, Tadeo set sail from Cádiz in the Spanish armed forces for the sec-
ond and last time in his life. On the 26th of that same month, from the main deck of the
Alfonso XII, he sighted Havana’s Morro Castle again. At just 42 years of age, Tadeo was a
broken man whose days in the army were numbered. He still needed three more years to
earn the heftier pension and war bonus awarded after 30 years in service, but the army’s
notary was in a hurry and in 24 quick lines summed up what was left of his career. First, he
was sent to the 5th Cavalry Regiment in the Las Villas zone, but that unit was scrapped
shortly afterward and he was moved to Matanzas in late June. There, while he was in the
top brass of the Prince’s 3rd Cavalry Regiment, the hazardous life of the soldier on the field
ended for him.
At his new destination and with the prestige stemming from his major’s rank, he nego-
tiated the admission of his son José María20 to the military academy of the Army of Cuba,
where the young man began his career as a cadet on September 1, 1879, at the age of 16, the
same as Tadeo’s in 1852, when he joined the Zaragoza Regiment. Two months later, in
November, Tadeo was named cashier of the same regiment.21 In 1880, he undertook an active
role in a commission assigned to dismantle military corps that were eliminated as the hos-
tilities diminished. In 1881, he continued on his job as eliminator of unneeded military units.
By January 1882, his recorded deeds fade sharply. In December of the previous year he appears
“in a to be replaced situation,” but afterwards, the notary’s pen notes only that “there he sub-
sisted until the end of March.”
The last notations reveal that he was named case prosecutor in the very same San Sev-
erino prison where in 1871 he had served two months as a deserter. The final line states that
he “held that position until the end of May, when he was notified of his recall to the Peninsula,
due to his illness.”22 That last voyage never took place. Insofar as Tadeo’s file runs out, a new
one emerged with the Capablanca surname in Cuba, this time under the heading of José
María, the first names of Tadeo’s son: Graduated as a second lieutenant on August 1882, he
was promoted to lieutenant on April 1887, and to captain on August 1895. Tadeo had fought
for Spain on Cuban soil for 22 years, with more luck than loyalty, as can be assumed from
his desertions. The least that could be expected from his son José María would be the same
lukewarm will. By then, the protective cloak that safeguarded him for over three decades
now sheltered his firstborn. Without that protection, Tadeo soon felt haunted by the ghosts
of so many years’ worth of war atrocities and a haphazard family life that left lasting impres-
sions on his body and mind. All that horror proved too much for a weak man, and on a
fateful March 23, 1884, at the city of Puerto Príncipe, Tadeo killed his wife and committed
suicide. He was 47.23
3. The Boy Prodigy
In December 1898 Spain was hurriedly evacuating its remaining troops from Cuba.
One of the clauses of the armistice that brought to an end the war that began in 1895
between the Cuban freedom fighters, Spain and the United States (from July 1898) required
Spain to withdraw its soldiers from the island before January 1, 1899—but such was not
completed until February 7, 1899. That was the reason of such activity in Cuba’s port. From
Havana on December 3 the steamboat Gran Antilla, with 1,447 troops aboard, departed; it
was followed during the next few days by the Fulva, the San Ignacio and the Juan Forgas,
each carrying 2,000 soldiers, but in none of their boarding lists was the name of Captain
José María Capablanca, nor does his military record show a trip
to Spain or any assignment in the army in the Iberian Penin-
sula after 1898, other than his retirement pension in
1900.
Several times the Capablanca family came very
close to moving to Spain because of army claims
regarding José María. A clear example was in Jan-
uary 1894: Then a lieutenant, he received orders
of transfer to the metropolis to continue his mil-
itary career there, a common practice designed
to separate the officers born overseas from their
roots. Once they were “Hispanicized,” it was
unusual for them to be stationed back at their
places of origin, although exceptions were made
if they made it to the higher ranks, such as colonel
or general. “In embark situation … posted for
replacement,” meant that as soon as another officer
came to take his place, he would be taken, perhaps
forever, from the country where he had been born.1
However, it is improbable that he had been consid-
ered at that time to be an officer capable of leading the
troops to battle, a consequence of weakness
shown by having failed to discipline a subordi- Following the custom of the age, Cuban
nate, for which he was condemned to one month families
and let
dressed small boys in girls’ clothes
their hair grow as long as the
in jail.2 On the other hand, he had become a females’. José Raúl Capablanca, 1889 or
competent administrative officer who enjoyed 1890 (courtesy of Mercedes Capablanca).
62
Capablanca, at four years and a few months, poses facing his father, José María, at chess in the study
of Portuguese Taveira, the most renowned portraitist of Havana. Capablanca’s first visit to the
Havana Chess Club was around the middle of September 1893 (courtesy of Mercedes Capablanca).
the trust of the military brass. At the end of December of 1892, thanks to a request from
his old Matanzas superior, Colonel Emiliano Loño, who was finally promoted to brigadier
general after 47 years in the army, Lieutenant Capablanca was assigned to Havana as his
aide. Loño was the same person who was a guest at the inaugural banquet of the first Steinitz–
Chigorin match in 1889, as representative of the governor of the island; and in 1892 he
attended several times the second match between both masters, as mentioned by Vázquez.
Later he was identified as the officer who was playing against José María at the time when
little Raúl witnessed a game of chess for the first time.3
José A. Gelabert,4 in his 1923 biography of José Raúl Capablanca, did not mention
the name of General Loño; instead he wrote that José María “was playing with a group
of friends,” despite Loño’s having been identified in public for the first time by Andrés
Clemente Vázquez in the weekly magazine El Fígaro, October 8, 1893, as a frequent rival of
Capablanca’s father. Here it would be interesting if we could establish that this occasion, at
La Cabaña fortress in early 1893, was really José Raúl Capablanca’s first contact with chess.
All elements point to it, although there are different explanations. According to Zenaida
Capablanca, that day her father took little Raúl to his side to calm him down because he
was crying uncontrollably. The version of the boy himself: he was just looking for something
to do. This is the most romantic of Capablanca’s version of the event, in Munsey’s Magazine:
I remember clearly my first game of chess. I had just passed my fourth birthday [November 19,
1892]. Depressed with a feeling of ennui, which a hot Havana day oftimes induces, and having
failed in my search for something interesting in the actions or stories of the soldiers of Morro
Castle, where it was my wont to spend the greater part of my day, I directed my footsteps to one
of the towers of the fort, in order to discuss with my father ways and means for routing this
childish ennui of mine. As I entered my father’s quarters, the scene that greeted my eyes at once
aroused my interest. In the center of the room sat my father, his head cupped in the palms of his
hands, his eyes staring intently at the table. Opposite him sat a brother officer, in the same atti-
tude. Both seemed to be thinking deeply [ José R. Capablanca, “How I Knew to Play Chess,”
Munsey’s Magazine, June 1916].5
Of course, different versions abound. According to Gelabert, a year before this scene
at the La Cabaña Fortress, at the time of the Steinitz–Chigorin 1892 match, little Capablanca
discovered a sharp variant in one of Chigorin’s victories, and said that he should have won
the game instead of Steinitz, after which “he demonstrated the move with all its possible
variants.…”6 Capablanca himself could have been the source of Gelabert’s error, because in
his account of the event (one of those main events that can change or decide a person’s
destiny, in this case his own), he said: “In my case, it was one of the historical Steinitz–Chig-
orin matches, which were extensively talked about in Havana at the time. “I was then four
years old” (italics added).
But in January of 1892 Capablanca was not four, but just over three years and two or
three months old, although he may have been referring to the echoes of that match. The
puzzle starts making sense after December of 1892, when its pieces start falling into place:
(a) José María’s relocation to Havana; (b) the fact that his boss was a general, promoted to
that rank three months before.7 Capablanca himself wrote at least two different accounts
about when he learned to play chess: the first one for Munsey’s Magazine, October 1916,
above mentioned; the second one in his autobiographical book My Chess Career, 1920. Also
he did mention the episode briefly in Windsor Magazine, December 1922. It was in Munsey’s
that he recalls having noticed an illicit move by a knight the first time he saw his father
playing chess. That very same day he won a game against him. That version is the more
attractive of the three, because of its narrative candor and childlike innocence. It also contains
a capital element that must not be overlooked: the influence of the military milieu of his
childhood. “I believe, therefore, that my early and very strong attraction to the game of chess
was due to the peculiar set of mind that I had developed as a result of my military environ-
ment.”
A forgotten version is dated from 1893, in the same Vázquez article quoted above,
where he hints that Loño had something to do with Capablanca’s learning chess. According
to the following account by the child, his challenge to his father to play chess took place in
a different way: “I’ve learned moves from the General, and if you want to lose now, play with
me,” the boy said to his father. “We will see,” answered the father, “what you plan to do with
the pawns, the rooks and the knights.” And in a few minutes the boy captured almost all the
pieces and forced him to surrender. As Vazquez explains, Capablanca’s father used to be a
“victim” of Loño. It is implicit in this relevant piece of history that José María was a very
weak player and is natural to infer that instead of playing he was learning. That may explain
Capablanca’s phrase, “I’ve learned moves from the General,” because Loño was explaining
Capablanca family circa 1896 (the family since then have not agreed on precisely who is depicted
where). José Raúl, at top in a black suit, apparently was opposed to dressing as a girl for the occa-
sion. His father José María is at right. His older brother Salvador Tadeo (probably; some have
said it is Ramiro) stands beside him at top in girls’ clothes; seated at left is probably Ramiro; at
center is Matilde María Graupera and it is probably Fernando Aquiles in front (courtesy of Frank
Brady).
to his aide-de-camp the rudiments of the game. Sadly, Loño died in Madrid on October 1,
1901, at the time of the first victories of Capablanca as a child, and was not able to tell his
recollections.
One of Capablanca’s favorite things as a child was listening to the battle stories of the
old veterans: “I recall with what delight I used to listen to a soldier’s story of the capture of
a redoubt or the trapping of an army,” which at the time made a profound impression on
him, shaping in his mind a quick, intuitive conceptual association between military terms
and chess terms: “I could soon appreciate the fact that a game of chess may be compared to
a military battle—something that involves an attack on the part of one player, and a defense
on the part of another.”8
Compared to his description of an evening spent looking for something to amuse him-
self, the other version of his first encounter with chess is less enchanting, although it still
evokes the beautiful fable of a child who discovers at first sight the secrets of a magical game.
However it actually happened, it was a revelation of his astonishing powers, enough so that
his father and other friends from his military world were duly impressed: “After this incident,
my father’s friends were profuse in their declarations that I was a boy of unusual powers.
Some of them went so far as to call me a prodigy, and to predict that I should undoubtedly
develop into the greatest chess master of the world.”9
Of course, he became the subject of much talk among the troops stationed in the fortress
and his own relatives, to the point that José María Capablanca and his wife took him to
Alfredo Pereira Taveira’s studio, to take several photographs of him.10 The little boy was star-
tled by such a show of amazement, especially with the fact that people were suddenly declar-
ing him a child prodigy. Similar comments were made decades later by another child genius
of chess, Samuel Reshevsky, in 1920, after he’d been showered with similarly lavish praise of
his talent for the game when he was only 8:
While everyone urged that my talents as a chess player should be developed by a course of spe-
cial training, my father much preferred that I should maintain the even tenor of the average
boy’s way. To the many suggestions of my possible exploitation in the field of chess, he persist-
ently lent a deaf ear [Munsey’s Magazine, June 1916].
Little Capablanca would have preferred to be praised about his talent at playing baseball
or doing mental math calculations instantly—an ability that had the soldiers mocking the
regiment’s accountant, since the child resolved mentally in a matter of seconds math questions
that had forced the poor man to resort to pen and paper. “I recall how the soldiers of the
fort at Havana would find diversion in leading forth the clerk of the garrison—the poor
wretch!—and placing him opposite me. They would then read off large sums for us to add,
divide, and multiply. I would invariably offer the correct answer before the clerk could get
started.”11
Having such talents, however, soon started to be a source of annoyance, because his
parents took him to a doctor to establish whether his brain was normal. Capablanca later
confessed that this forced visit to the doctor was loathsome for him, especially when he
found himself before a “bespectacled and bewhiskered individual [who], after making an
examination, announced in oracular manner that I was possessed of mental powers unusual
for a boy of my age, and advised that I should be prohibited from playing chess.” This was
very disappointing for him, because “my love for the game had become a passion.”12
His talent for chess was soon heard of on the southern side of the Havana Bay. It should
come as no surprise that Capa-

blanca, in his account for Mun-
sey’s, completely forgot that he
had been taken for the first time
to the well-known meeting place
for the local chess players before
he turned 5. On the contrary, he
wrote: “It was not until I was 8
years of age that, upon the
earnest solicitation of my
father’s friends, he consented to
take me to the Chess Club of
Havana, which at that time
numbered among its members
several players of established
reputation.”13
But later, in My Chess
Career, Capablanca admitted he
visited the club when he was
four years old. Due to this dual-
ity it becomes necessary to
quote Vázquez again and the
historical piece from El Fígaro,
October 8, 189314:
Two or three Sundays ago the
Province Administrator Cap-
tain Francisco Pérez del
Castillo15 introduced us to a
fine-looking boy, four and a
half years of age, a new star in
the heavens of the votaries of
the goddess Caissa.… The boy
played several games to the
astonishment of those who
were at the club that Sunday.
This incipient Ruy López is
very dynamic, resolute and epi- A classic image: Capablanca beside a chessboard. Published
grammatic. He learned from in El Fígaro, Havana, October 8, 1893, in Andrés Clemente
Pérez del Castillo to tease his Vázquez’s article: “A Mexican Marvel and a Spanish Won-
defeated adversaries with little der” (courtesy of Mercedes Capablanca).
jokes. Since the tables at the
club were too high for him, he would kneel on a chair and lean on the board with his arms
crossed; like a petit caporal, as soon as his opponent played, he says with inimitable charm to any
of the onlookers, so they assist him in making his moves: “Queen takes pawn, then queen takes
rook, knight double check.” Once his opponent concedes defeat, he climbs down from the chair,
does some pirouettes on the floor, and again he sits, waiting for a new challenge.…
The following is the game that Vázquez published (without annotations) as part of his
article:
Ramón Iglesias–Capablanca [C42]

Havana, 17 September or 24 September 1893
Odds game, remove White’s queen
In chess, it is very difficult to assert something in absolute terms. But until now, or at
least for many years, this is considered the “youngest player published game.” Capablanca
was 4 years and about 10 months old when he played it. There is also a well-known game
of Aron Schaiewitsch Nimzowitsch three years later, in 1896, but the future Latvian mas-
ter was 9 at the time. 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. N×e5 N×e4 4. d4 d6 5. Nf3 Be7 6. Bd3
Nf6 7. c4 0–0 8. Nc3 Nc6 9. a3 a6 10. Bd2 b6 11. 0–0–0 Bd7 12. Kb1 Na5 13. Rc1 Nb3
14. Rc2 Usually, when one has a material advantage one tries to reduce the number of pieces,
in this case exchanging the knight at b3 for the bishop at d2. But instead, Capablanca wants
to open lines against the enemy king and to occupy these opened lines. 14. ... c5 15. d5 Re8
16. h4 (see diagram)
This is one of the most interesting positions in Capablanca’s
rDw1rDkD first known game, since it shows a surprising understanding of
DwDbgp0p chess for a child less than 5 years of age. From now on, he uses
p0w0whwD for the first time his tactical ability, increases the initiative and
Dw0PDwDw then conducts the endgame simply, efficiently and economically.
wDPDwDw) 16. ... b5 Black opens lines taking advantage of a little combina-
)nHBDNDw tion, or “une petite combinaison,” as Capablanca likes to call this
w)RGw)PD kind of tactical operations. Alexander Alekhine prefers to iden-
DKDwDwDR tify them as “combinations of detail” (Legado, Madrid, 1946),
After 16. h4 and Max Euwe, “executive combinations,” defining the situations
as those “in which an already existing positional advantage is
exploited in the most mathematical way” (Max Euwe, Meet the Masters, second edition,
Dover Publications, 1945). These “petites combinaisons” will be a frequent resource in Capa-
blanca’s future games. 17. g4 If 17. c×b5 Nd4 18. N×d4 c×d4 19. Na2 B×b5 and Black recovers
his pawn. 17. ... Nd4! 18. N×d4 c×d4 19. Ne4 b×c4 20. N×f6+ B×f6 21. B×c4 B×g4
22. Bd3 Bf3 23. Rh3 B×d5 In this position, even with a White queen on d1, White would
be lost. 24. h5 Be6 25. Rg3 g6 26. f4 Bh4 27. Rg1 Kh8 28. f5 B×f5 29. B×f5 g×f5 30. Bh6
Rg8 31. Rcg2 R×g2 32. R×g2 (see diagram)
32. ... Qf6 It is curious to see that in his first move with the
rDw1wDwi queen, Capablanca returns it when he could defend his position
DwDwDpDp with 32. ... Bf6 It is as if he would like to prove he did not need
pDw0wDwG the queen’s advantage to win. 33. Bg7+ Q×g7 34. R×g7 K×g7
DwDwDpDP 35. Kc2 Kf6 And here, it also gives the impression that Capa-
wDw0wDwg blanca wants to show he does not need the rook and the bishop
)wDwDwDw to win, because his king and pawns are enough. 36. Kd3 Ke5
w)wDwDRD 37. h6 f4 38. Ke2 Ke4 Taking the opposition, a subject that
DKDwDwDw Capablanca would later deal with at great length in his book
After 32. R×g2 Chess Fundamentals (1921). White resigned. 0–1.
Enrique Conill exclaimed at the time, with a phrase that could later be applied to any
other moment in Capablanca’s life: “He only works with his eyesight and does all his calcu-
lations without the slightest effort.”15 Alexander Alekhine was justified in thinking that many
years of chess promotion in Cuba, and in particular the Steinitz–Chigorin matches, had
created an environment very conducive to the emergence of a first-rate champion:
What we know about Capablanca’s childhood and youth allows us to say that he grew up in
extremely favorable conditions for the development of his extraordinary powers: (1) his father
and his uncle played chess, which allowed them to fully appreciate the child’s merits; (2) the
Cuban chess milieu, heated up by Steinitz’s matches, greatly contributed to support and sustain a
national talent pool. Personally I am persuaded that, had his parents not prevented it, Capa-
blanca would have achieved the same victories and the same child prodigy reputation as
Reshevsky did.…16
Destiny is unpredictable. Capablanca’s story happened in 1893, a year that did not seem
to be going to be the best for chess in the island. It started in a very bad way when the Havana
Chess Club invited two mighty German masters, Emanuel Lasker and Carl August Walbrodt,
thinking to organize a match between them, for which they were willing to set a minimum bet
of 750 pesos, later increased to 1,000. The British Chess Magazine commented that such was
the purpose behind bringing both masters together to the island’s main city. But soon the club
encountered Lasker’s stubborn refusal to play against Walbrodt, regardless of the various sug-
gestions made to him for that purpose—not even for consultation games, as it had been fre-
quently done with Steinitz against Chigorin or Mackenzie, or Blackburne against Mackenzie,
each of them seconded by local experts. None of these alternatives satisfied Lasker, who declared
that his contract referred only to individual or simultaneous matches against local players.
Of course, it was not known in Havana at the time that Lasker was secretly planning
to challenge Steinitz for the world championship after he beat Blackburne in London, and
a lackluster performance against Walbrodt at the Cuban capital would have been fatal for
such a project. Lasker finally announced his ambitions several months later in New York on
August 1, 1893. In a New Orleans Times-Democrat piece, reprinted by the British Chess Mag-
azine in October 1893, Lasker claimed that the Havana Chess Club had not told him any-
thing in advance about a match with Walbrodt.17
So when in December of 1892 Lieutenant Capablanca was relocated from Matanzas
to Havana, the local chess life in January-February 1893 was not as rich as the year before;
nor did it have the vibrancy it showed at the time of the fiery battles between Steinitz and
Chigorin. Apart from the initial stories about when José Raúl succumbed to the charms of
Caissa and was taken for the first time to the Havana Chess Club, subsequent news reports
were few and far between, lacking the excitement usually connected to the legend of a child
prodigy. The main reason was that both José María Capablanca and his wife were worried
that excessive practice of the game would affect their son’s health. They had heard many sto-
ries blaming chess for Paul Morphy’s mental problems. A prejudice against chess grew later
with the breakdowns of Steinitz and Pillsbury, especially when the latter attempted suicide.
For that reason, Capablanca later explained, they did not take him back to the club (he
said “for the first time” by mistake, as it was pointed out before) until he turned 8. There is
an anecdote, which became known much later, that in 1894 the French master Jean Tauben-
haus played and lost (he said that he was “under the impression of having lost”) two games
against Capablanca in which he gave the boy queen odds. Other than that, and the story
that Golmayo could not prevail against Raúl when giving him rook odds, but was able to
when giving him knight odds, nothing else is heard about the child between 1894 and
1897. From 1896 his absence is easily explained, since his father had been sent to the combat
zones at the border between the provinces of Havana and Pinar del Río. There the Spaniard
captain general of Cuba, Valeriano Weyler, was hurriedly building a fortified military line
with the dual goal of preventing the transit of the insurgents to the western side of the
country as well as to trap in Cuba’s westernmost province (Pinar del Río) the insurrectionist
General Antonio Maceo. José María was stationed in the headquarters of Artemisa. After-
wards, Capablanca’s father was ordered to join the Matanzas Cavalry Regiment, and later,
in the second half of 1897, sent to Santa Clara, where he stayed until the end of the war.18
For Lieutenant Capablanca, the beginning of the war meant going back to the nomadic,
perilous road of a career soldier, whose wanderings are evidenced by his military record from
1894:
1894, in Havana, carrying out the position of Proxy for the Third Squadron until the 9th of
August, when he went on a two-month sick leave.… At the end of October he was decommis-
sioned from the Regiment of Pizarro to return to the Peninsula … [and] stood by ready to
embark until the end of November, when by order of H[is]. E[xcellency]., dated December 1,
and at his own request, he was permitted to stay on the Island as a replacement, pertaining to the
Peninsula, in consideration of his being sick.… 1895, in the same situation.… By Royal Order of
the 12th of September he is granted the rank of Captain.… 1896 … Selected to carry out the
position of bursar of the corps [in Havana].… September 15 he was granted the Cross of M[ili-
tary]. M[erit]. with Red Badge for services rendered in the arduous service of the military line
from Mariel to Majanas.… 1897 In Havana carrying out the position of bursar until the end of
July, when he was decommissioned from the Regiment of Pizarro, Third Cavalry, for having
being assigned to the mobilized Squadron of Matanzas, until September [1897] when he was
granted leave to transfer to the Mobilized Cavalry Volunteer Center of [the military region and
city of ] Santa Clara.… From such provenance he entered the newly created Detail and Account-
ing Center, where he stayed in charge of management as temporary chief until the end of [illegi-
ble] when, after the arrival of the Chief appointed to it, he ended the year at the garrison. 1898.
In the same situation, carrying out the position of bursar in charge of the Dispatch of Headquar-
ters at the Center [of the island] until the 30th of September, when he was put in charge of the
outside farming area.…19
Because the family was constantly moving around before and after the armed conflict
that started in 1895, many details of José Raúl’s childhood are unknown. Even the meaning
of one of his given names, Fausto, suggests that his arrival to the world could have been some-
what accidental, albeit in the end a happy and joyous occurrence.20 In addition, the date of
Capablanca’s birth, November 19, could be seen as an omen of sorts. In the Roman Catholic
saints’ calendar the day before, the 18th, is the day of St. Odon, whose birth “was the fruit of
many prayers,” and who as a child suffered terrible headaches that no doctor could alleviate.
Odon was not free of them until he and his father promised that were he to be healed, he
would consecrate his life to God. This could be seen as another enigma in Capablanca’s life,
because, like St. Odon, he may have suffered the same ailment since early childhood. The
night of March 7, 1942, before going into a coma, he uttered, “I have an intolerable headache.”
During these years, 1894–1897, José Raúl21 and the rest of his siblings were taught at
home by their mother Matilde María; she created a veritable family school of which her
progeny were the only students. Her performance as a tutor was brilliant, for several of her
children went on to obtain university degrees. José Raúl’s progress was so quick that he had
no difficulty with the entrance examination for middle school while he was still less than 9
years of age, in September 1897, clear evidence that his talent and precociousness went well
beyond the scope of chess.22 Capablanca did not stay long at the Havana Institute for Sec-
ondary Education (Instituto de Segunda Enseñanza) because his father was relocated to
Matanzas, where they lived at 9 San Juan de Dios Street. At the end of 1897, José María was
Capablanca’s first known letter, written on April 25, 1898, requesting the transfer of his records
to the school system of Santa Clara, in central Cuba, where his father was serving (author’s col-
lection).
relocated again, to Santa Clara, and his son requested to be transferred to this city’s Institute.
This is the first Capablanca letter known: Santa Clara, April 25, 1898.
To the Principal of the Matanzas Institute of Secondary Education.
Dear Sir:
Don Raúl Capablanca y Graupera, a student enrolled at the Institute that you so admirably
superintend, in the courses of mathematics and algebra, Latin and Spanish 2nd course, and his-
tory of Spain, in official education, wishes to continue his studies in Santa Clara.
I beg you to graciously grant me a transfer of enrollment to the private school “Cristobal
Colón” in Santa Clara.
Confiding that this request be granted out of the kindness of your heart
Santa Clara, April 25 1898.
Raul Capablanca.23
The war interrupted his studies and a difficult situation prevailed in Santa Clara, where
the mortality rate reached almost 25 percent, according to a dispatch sent to the New York
Times by its war correspondent in Cuba. The first Cuban rebel troops who were permitted
by the U.S. authorities to enter into the city, on December 31, 1898, when all the Spanish
soldiers were evacuated, led by General José de Jesús Monteagudo, were received with cheers
at the central plaza, close to the Capablanca home.24 According to family stories, both José
Raúl and his sister Alicia climbed on the horses of rebel soldiers and rode with them for a
while during their triumphal parade.25
It is unknown whether Captain José María Capablanca was evacuated to Havana with
the rest of the Spanish troops while his family remained in Santa Clara, but there is a request
for Spanish passports for his family dated December 6, 1898.26 It was a moment marked by
great chaos, and accounts cited by the British historian Hugh Thomas state that “the filthiest
and most revolting animals were eaten with great relish.” Mortality was very high, especially
among children.27 Once the situation improved, José María dropped the idea of traveling to
Spain, something that appears to have always been an emergency measure in case the social
and economic situation of the country deteriorated even further. Recollections by his daugh-
ters Zenaida and Graciela indicate that he opposed the Spanish rule in Cuba and he was
known by the rebel troops as a sympathizer, or even as a spy.28
This disagreement with Madrid’s politics was hardly uncommon among officers and
soldiers of the army of Spain born on the island,29 as well as in other regions of the empire—
just as Spain rightly feared. The most notorious example was the Dominican Máximo Gómez,
a sergeant in the Spanish Army in Santo Domingo, who in the end became commander in
chief of the Cuban troops in both wars of independence (1868 and 1895). José María was
not the only Capablanca involved in conspiratorial plans, for his younger brother Antonio
was arrested and condemned to prison in Spain:
MEN SENTENCED DURING WEYLER’S RULE
ARE RELEASED FROM PRISON
Washington, Aug 25—Word has been received from the United States Minister in Madrid,
Mr. Bellamy Storer, that four Cubans exiles were released from the Spanish penal settlement at
Borgus [Burgos?] on the 8th instant and have sailed for Cuba. Their names are Rafael Joyor,
Antonio Capablanca, Julio Alvarez and Norberto Rojo Hernandez [New York Times, August 26,
1899, page 4].
It may have been Matilde María Graupera who influenced José María Capablanca’s
decision to secretly join the independence ranks. She started in her home an underground
Official academic certification from Havana’s Institute of Secondary Education, issued on Octo-
ber 11, 1897, with the aim of enabling the 8-year-old student José Raúl Capablanca to enroll in
a similar institution in Matanzas province (author’s collection).
“José Martí” club, and her rebel posture could possibly be explained by the fact that her
mother was Cuban and her father from Catalonia—a region with a strong autonomist sen-
timent.30
In 1900, Vázquez had once more lost sight of the child prodigy, and so he wrote in his
book El Ajedrez Magistral: “[ José Raúl] Capablanca, chess player extraordinaire, has van-
ished, eclipsed by the gloom of the classrooms.” At the end of the war, the family settled
again in Havana.31 There is no proof that Capablanca played chess at all between 1897 and
1899. The only documented data about him during this period of time are his school records.
What seems to have reawakened his interest in chess was the visit of American player Harry
Nelson Pillsbury to Havana in March of 1900:
I was then a very mediocre player, but the reader can well imagine the impression on a child full
of imagination produced by a man who could play simultaneously 16 or more blindfold games of
chess at the same time that he played a number of blindfold games of draughts [checkers] and a
hand of duplicate whist…. The effect of Pillsbury’s displays was immediate. They electrified me,
and with the consent of my parents I began to visit the Havana Chess Club.
For those who read about this episode in My Chess Career it is not clear whether Capa-
blanca was present at Pillsbury’s games. He was, however, and he established it without room
for doubt in his last piece for the Buenos Aires newspaper Crítica, during the 1939 Tourna-
ment of Nations: “I recall that I was nine years old [he was actually 11] when Pillsbury visited
the city, and it was for this reason that my father took me on a number of occasions to the
chess club where he played.”32
It appears that at the time he was so distanced from chess that neither was he invited
to play against Pillsbury nor was his presence even mentioned. Upon his return to the club
he noticed the absence of Celso Golmayo, who had died on April 1, 1898.33 But Vázquez
was still there, and before his demise in 1901 he advised Corzo, who had been absent from
the club for just a week, about Capablanca’s leap in improvement: “My friend, it is impossible
to beat the boy with [the odds of ] a knight. Try with a pawn and move.”34 Corzo was surprised
that he could not defeat the young boy with the odds of pawn and move, and could not
fathom how Capablanca could have lost all respect for top players, including him, in so short
a time:
In this atmosphere, in three months I advanced to the First Rank. In order to test my strength
a series of games was arranged, in which I was to play two games against each one of the
first-class players. All the strong players took part in the contest except Vazquez [sic], who had
just died. The result proved that I was next to the Champion, J. Corzo, to whom I lost both
games.35
It is from this time that his games against the best players of the clubs are dated, 18
months after Capablanca went back to the institution, and not just three months later. Diario
de la Marina mentions in his edition of September 21, 1901, that the series organized by
León Paredes had revived interest for the game. After playing the exhibition games against
each one of his rivals, plus two games against Albert Ettlinger and Mauro Marceau, 36 Capa-
blanca finished with an impressive record: 13 victories, 3 defeats (two by Juan Corzo, one
by Enrique) and 2 draws (with Antonio Fiol and Manuel Márquez Sterling), for a superb
average of 77.77 percent.
The following is one of the most impressive games of Capablanca (age 12) in 1901:
Albert Ettlinger–Capablanca [C45]

Series Against Experts, 7th Game, Havana, 25 September 1901
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Bc5 5. Be3 Qf6 6. c3 Nge7 7. Bb5 Nowadays
the most popular move is 7. Bc4. 7. ... a6 8. Ba4 0–0? This is the order of moves appearing
in Diario de la Marina, 26 September 1901, page 4, which in this series committed some
mistakes in the publication of the games. It is obvious that Black loses a piece, so probably
the actual order of moves was 8. ... b5 9. Bb3 0–0. 9. 0–0? As mentioned before, if this was
the actual order of moves, White can now win a piece with 9. N×c6 B×e3 10. N×e7+ Q×e7
11. f×e3. But it is curious that nobody mentioned this possibility in all the years since. 9. ...
b5 10. Bb3 Bb7 11. N×c6 Q×c6 12. B×c5 Q×c5 13. Bc2 d5 14. Nd2 Rad8 15. Nb3 Qb6
16. e5 Ng6 Better is 16. ... c5 17. Qh5 Ng6 18. Rad1 d4 with a complicated game. 17. Qd3
17. Qd4! and White is better. 17. ... Rfe8 18. Rae1 c5 19. Qg3 d4 20. Kh1 d3! 21. B×d3
Better is 21. Bd1, although after 21. … c4 22. Nd2 f6! Black has a clear advantage. Now Capa-
blanca begins a nice combination (see diagram)
21. .... R×d3! 22. Q×d3 B×g2+ 23. Kg1 c4 Simpler was wDw4rDkD
23. ... B×f1 24. R×f1 N×e5 with a winning position. 24. Qd6 DbDwDp0p
Qb7 25. Nc5 Qa8 26. e6 B×f1 27. e×f7+ K×f7 28. Qd7+ Re7 p1wDwDnD
29. R×e7+ N×e7 30. Qe6+ 30. Nb7! Bd3 31. Nd8+ Kf8 Dp0w)wDw
32. Ne6+ and Black cannot avoid the perpetual check. 30. ... wDwDwDwD
Ke8 31. Qd7+ Kf7 32. Qe6+ 32. Nb7! 32. ... Kf8 Avoiding the DN)BDw!w
repetition of moves and playing for the victory. 33. K×f1 Qh1+ P)wDw)P)
34. Ke2 Q×h2 35. Nd7+ Better is 35. N×a6 Qh5+ 36. Kd2 Qf3 DwDw$RDK
37. Qe3 Qf5 with only a small advantage for Black. 35. ... Ke8 After 21. B×d3
36. Ne5 Qh5+ 37. Ke1? A serious mistake. He should have
played 37. f3 37. … Qf5 Stronger was 37. … Qh1+ 38. Ke2 Qe4+
wDw1kDwD
39. Kf1 Qd5 winning. 38. Qd6 Qe4+ 39. Kf 1 Qd5 40. Qc7 Dw!whw0p
Qd8 (see diagram) pDwDwDwD
41. Q×d8+ White cannot avoid the exchange of queens. DpDwHwDw
For example: 41. Qc5 Qd1+ 42. Kg2 Qd5+ Now Capablanca wDpDwDwD
wins the endgame with a technique that will be his future trade- Dw)wDwDw
mark. 41. ... K×d8 42. Nf7+ Kd7 43. Ke2 h6 44. Ne5+ Ke6 P)wDw)wD
45. Nf3 g5 46. Ke3 Kd5 47. Nd4 h5 48. f4 g4 49. b3 h4 50. f5 DwDwDKDw
Ke5 51. f6 Nd5+ 52. Kf2 N×f6 53. b×c4 b×c4 White resigned. After 40. … Qd8
0–1.
After Vázquez’s extensive article in 1893, the most important comment at the time
about Capablanca was published in Diario de la Marina, October 4, 1901:
Preoccupied by trying to find a solution to the economic crisis that burdens her, Havana has
barely noticed the miraculous event that has been unfolding in the renowned Chess Club of this
city. It is an event, however, that is destined to cause a deep impression in the entire civilized
world; and it shall be, without any doubt, a source of wonder for the present and future genera-
tions.
A 12-year-old boy is beating at the chessboard the most famous players of the Island, and this
child, whose name shall be repeated in awe throughout the world, and most particularly in those
clubs devoted to the noble game, is called Raúl Capablanca and is Cuban.
Everything about Raúl is startling—he plays with a joy and a lack of concern that is enchant-
ing. While his opponent, an adept and well-seasoned man, wearily studies his moves, eyes fixed
on the chessboard, the boy fans himself nonchalantly and his animated eyes throw glances to
and fro, as if his very powerful imagination showed him all at once the infinite combinations
that can be achieved in this game.
And that is probably how it indeed is, because he thinks his moves with astonishing speed and
plays them with the utmost assurance and without hesitation, as if his mind had not exerted
itself at all. And those are one of the most appealing things about watching this 12-year-old
colossus play and defeat his formidable adversaries, taking a third or even a fourth of the time
they do in each move.
After an achievement so lauded by Havana journalists, Puerto Rican León Paredes,
then residing in Cuba, had another brilliant idea: organizing a simultaneous exhibition, one
of the first ever offered at the club by a native or a resident of the island, for which a notice
was published in, among other newspapers, Diario de la Marina, October 24:
Saturday at 8 o’clock p.m., the child Capablanca will play twenty simultaneous games. All afi-
cionados who want to measure their strength with the young champion should bring their own
chessboards and pieces.… Players are warned that they should do their move at the precise
moment the young man stands in front of each board, so he can countermove on the spot.
It is hard to fathom why only eight people showed up to challenge him. Among them
was another young player, 16-year-old Rafael Blanco Estera,37 a son of José A. Blanco, one
of the regulars at the club, which should have constituted an uncommon sight in a field until
then exclusive to adults. In one hour and five minutes, Capablanca won seven encounters
and lost one to Augusto Valle. There is no evidence that a child so young had ever offered
a simultaneous exhibition at the time. Sammy Reshevsky’s exploits, at 8 years of age, did not
happen until 17 or 18 years later. And, as in his past series against the top players of the insti-
tution, it was a kings and pawns ending that evidenced once again his innate understanding
of that phase of the game, particularly in the complex subject of opposition.38
Capablanca–Carlos Echevarría [B01]

Simultaneous Exhibition, Havana, 10 October 1901
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 d5 4. e×d5 Q×d5 5. Nc3 Bb4 6. Bd2 B×c3 7. b×c3 Bg4
8. Be2 e4 9. Ng1 B×e2 10. N×e2 Nf6 11. 0–0 0–0 12. Nf4 Qf5 13. Be3 Qg4 14. Q×g4
N×g4 15. h3 N×e3 16. f×e3 f5 17. Ne6 Rf7 18. g4 f×g4 19. R×f7 K×f7 20. N×c7 Rd8
21. h×g4 Na5 22. Rf 1+ Kg8 23. Ne6 Re8 24. Nc5 b6 25. Nd7 Nc4 26. Kf2 Re7 27. Ne5
N×e5 28. d×e5 R×e5 29. Rd1 Re7 30. Rd4 Kf7 31. Kg3 g5 32. c4 Kf6 33. Rd6+ Re6
34. Rd7 Re7 35. Rd5 h6 36. c5 Re6 37. c×b6 R×b6 38. a4 Ra6 39. Rd4 Ke5 40. Rb4
Kd5 41. Rd4+ Ke5 42. Kf2 Rc6 43. c4 Rd6 44. c5 (see dia-
wDwDwDwD gram)
0wDwDwDw 44. ... R×d4? A big mistake. 45. e×d4+ Kd5 46. Ke3 a5
wDw4wDw0 47. Kf2 Kc6 48. Ke2! It is noteworthy to observe how the 12
Dw)wiw0w year old child understands the use of triangulation to win the
PDw$pDPD opposition and put his opponent in Zugzwang. 48. ... Kd5
DwDw)wDw 49. Ke3 Black resigned. 1–0.
wDwDwIwD
DwDwDwDw After the September and October encounters, the only
After 44. c5 thing left to do was to make the boy face off with the only player
who had defeated him, Juan Corzo, a match that was announced in Diario de la Marina,
November 16, page 4: “This interesting contest will take place at the rooms of the club, at
Prado 94 [old numbers; today it is Prado 360, between Neptuno and Virtudes streets], and
it will start Sunday the 17th at 6 p.m. on alternate days.…” Before starting, however, even
Capablanca himself was convinced of his adversary’s superiority, since “he knew all the Open-
ings and I knew none; he knew many games of the great masters by heart, things of which
I had no knowledge at all.”39 The series started November 17, and, just as many had feared,
things did not look good for the boy. Soon he had lost his first-move advantage and had to
surrender at Move 29 without having accomplished much. In a tone that was reminiscent
of an epitaph, a local chess reporter wished him good luck.
Capablanca–Juan Corzo [C47]

Match, 1st Game, Havana, 17 November 1901
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Nf6 5. Nc3 Bb4 6. N×c6 b×c6 7. Qd3 0–
0 8. Bd2 B×c3 9. B×c3 N×e4 10. Q×e4 Re8 11. Be5 f6 12. 0–0–0 f×e5 13. Bd3 Qg5+
14. Kb1 Qh6 15. c4 Bb7 16. Qf5 d5 17. g4 Bc8 18. Qh5 Q×h5 19. g×h5 Bg4 20. Rc1 e4
21. Bf 1 d4 22. h6 g6 23. Rg1 Bh5 24. Kc2 Rf8 25. Rg2 Rf5 26. Re1 Raf8 27. R×e4 Bf3
28. Kd3 B×e4+ 29. K×e4 Rf4+ White resigned. 0–1.
The next game was played November 19, the day Capablanca turned 13; but that did
not save him from another defeat, this one more definitive than the previous one.
Juan Corzo–Capablanca [C52]

Match, 2nd Game, Havana, 19 November 1901
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
Qe7 9. e5 d×e5 10. Ba3 Qf6 11. Nbd2 Bb6 12. Rae1 Nge7 13. Ne4 Qg6 14. B×e7 K×e7
15. Neg5 f6 16. Qa3+ Nb4 17. Q×b4+ c5 18. Qb3 h6 19. Nf7 Bh3 20. g3 B×f 1 21. N×h8
R×h8 22. B×f 1 Qf7 23. N×e5 f×e5 24. R×e5+ Kf8 25. Bc4 Qc7 26. c×d4 c×d4 27. Qf3+
Black resigned. 1–0.
It seemed that there was not much to expect. At the third game, Capablanca lost the
exchange and all seemed over for him, when a valiant action with his king, which was not
appropriately responded to, allowed him to draw.
Capablanca–Juan Corzo [A80]

Match, 3rd Game, Havana, 21 November 1901
1. d4 f5 2. e3 Nf6 3. Nf3 e6 4. Bd3 b6 5. b3 Bb7 6. Nbd2 Bb4 7. Bb2 Ne4 8. B×e4
f×e4 9. Ne5 0–0 10. c3 Be7 11. Qg4 Rf5 12. f3 e×f3 13. g×f3 Bh4+ 14. Ke2 Qf6 15. Qh3
d6 16. Ng4 Qe7 17. Rhg1 Kh8 18. d5 e5 19. Nh6 Rh5 20. Nf5 Bc8 21. Q×h4 Q×h4
22. N×h4 R×h4 23. Rg2 Bh3 24. Rf2 Nd7 25. c4 a5 26. Ne4 h6 27. Nc3 Nc5 28. Nb5
Rc8 29. Ba3 e4 30. B×c5 e×f3+ 31. R×f3 Bg4 32. Kf2 B×f3 33. K×f3 b×c5 34. Kg3 Re4
35. Re1 Re7 36. e4 Rf8 37. Na7 g5 38. Nc6 Ree8 39. e5 d×e5 40. R×e5 R×e5 41. N×e5
Re8 42. Nd7 Re2 43. a4 Re3+ 44. Kg4 R×b3 45. Kf5 Rb4 46. Ne5 R×a4 47. Ke6 Rb4
48. Kd7 Rb7 49. Nd3 a4 50. Kc8 Rb1 51. K×c7 Rd1 52. N×c5 a3 53. d6 a2 54. Nb3 g4
55. d7 h5 56. d8=Q+ R×d8 57. K×d8 h4 58. c5 g3 59. h×g3 h×g3 60. c6 g2 61. c7 Draw.
½– ½.
At their fourth game, Capablanca prepared a massive exchange of pieces to play the
endgame, a strategy that had brought him good results the previous time. Corzo was better,
but once more overlooked the infiltration of the rival monarch, and, for the first time in the
match (and in his life) he had to bow his king before Capablanca.

Match, 4th Game, Havana, 23 November 1901
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bb5 Bb4 5. 0–0 0–0 6. d3 d6 7. Bg5 Ne7 8. Ne2
Ng6 9. c3 Ba5 10. Ng3 h6 11. B×f6 Q×f6 12. Nh5 Qe7 13. h3 c6 14. Bc4 Be6 15. Nd2
Qg5 16. B×e6 f×e6 17. Qg4 Q×g4 18. h×g4 Bc7 19. Nf3 Rae8 20. g5 h×g5 21. N×g5 Nf4
22. N×f4 e×f4 23. f3 e5 24. Rad1 c5 25. Kf2 Bd8 26. Nh3 b5 27. Ke2 Bb6 28. Rh1 Rf6
29. Rh2 Rh6 30. Rdh1 Ree6 31. Nf2 R×h2 32. R×h2 Rh6 33. R×h6 g×h6 34. Nh3 Kg7
35. c4 b×c4 36. d×c4 Kg6 37. Kf2 Ba5 38. Ke2 Kh5 39. Nf2 Kg5 40. a3 h5 41. Nd3 Kh4
42. b4 Bb6 43. Nb2 Better is 43. b5! Kg5 (if 43. ... Kg3 44. Kf1 Ba5 45. Nc1 Kh2 46. Nb3
Bd8 47. a4 Kg3 48. a5 Bc7 49. b6 a×b6 50. a6 Bb8 51. Nc1 followed by the knight maneuver
a2–c3–b5 winning) 44. a4 Bd8 45. Nc1 Bc7 46. Nb3 Kf6 47. a5 Ke6 48. b6 a×b6 49. a6
Bb8 50. Nd2 Kd7 51. Nb1 Kc8 52. Nc3 Bc7 53. Nb5 Bd8 54. N×d6+ Kb8 55. Nb5 Bh4
56. Kd2 Be7 57. Kc3 Bg5 58. Kb3 Bd8 59. Ka4 Be7 60. Nc3 Bg5 61. Kb5 Ka7 62. Nd5 Bd8
63. Kc6 K×a6 64. Kd6 winning. 43. ... Kg3 44. Kf1 h4 45. Na4 c×b4 46. a×b4 h3 47. g×h3
K×f3 48. c5 d×c5 49. N×c5 Kg3 Better is 49. ... Bd8 50. b5 Bh4 51. Na4 K×e4 52. Nc5+
Ke3 winning. 50. Nd3? 50. Nd7 Bd4 51. h4 K×h4 52. Kg2 Kg5 53. Kf3 Bc3 54. b5 Bd4
55. Nb8 Kf6 56. Na6 Ke6 57. Kg4 Kd7 58. Nb8+ Kc7 59. Nc6 Kb6 60. N×d4 e×d4 61. K×f4
K×b5 62. e5 a5 63. e6 Kc6 64. Ke4 and draw. 50. ... Bd4 51. b5 K×h3 Better is 51. ... Kf3
winning the e4 pawn. 52. Ke2 Kg3 53. Ne1 Kg4 54. Nf3 Bc3 55. Kf2 Bd4+ 56. Ke2 Corzo
lost his last chance with 56. Kg2 Bc3 57. Nh2+ Kg5 58. Nf3+ Kf6 59. Kf2 Bd4+ 60. Ke2
Bb6 61. Kd3 Ke6 62. Ng5+ Ke7 63. Kc4 Kd6 64. Nf7+ Ke6 65. Ng5+ Ke7 66. Kd5 and
Black cannot win. 56. ... Kg3 57. Ne1 Ba1 58. Nf3 Bc3 59. Ng5 f3+! 60. N×f3 Kf4 61. Kf2
Also losing is 61. Nh4 K×e4 62. Ng6 Kd5 63. Ne7+ Kc4 64. Nc8 Bd4. 61. ... K×e4 62. Ng5+
Kd3 63. Kf3 Kc4 64. Ne4 Bd4 65. Nd6+ Kc5 66. Nc8 K×b5 67. Ke4 a5 68. Nd6+ Kb4
At their fifth game, Corzo used his queen adventurously, and, having won a pawn, then
made a mistake in his maneuvering, so he had to fight for the draw that was reached at
move 49.
Capablanca–Juan Corzo [D05]

1. d4 d5 2. e3 Nf6 3. Bd3 c5 4. b3 Nc6 5. Bb2 e6 6. Nf3 Qb6 7. Nbd2 c4 8. Be2 c×b3
9. a×b3 Bd6 10. 0–0 0–0 11. c4 Bb4 12. Bd3 Bd7 13. Qc2 Rac8 14. Ne5 B×d2 15. Q×d2
Q×b3 16. c5 Rfd8 17. Bc2 Ne4 18. Qc1 Qb4 19. f3 N×e5 20. Ba3 Qd2 21. f×e4 Q×c1
22. B×c1 Nc6 23. e×d5 e×d5 24. Ba4 a6 25. Bd2 Nb8 26. Rfb1 B×a4 27. R×a4 Rd7
28. Rab4 Rcc7 29. Rb6 Nc6 30. Kf2 f5 31. h4 Rf7 32. Kf3 f4 33. Bc3 f×e3+ 34. K×e3
Ne7 35. Ba5 Nf5+ 36. Kd3 N×h4 37. R×a6 Rc8 38. Ra7 N×g2 39. Rb×b7 Nf4+ 40. Ke3
Re8+ 41. Kf3 R×b7 42. R×b7 Ne6 43. Bc3 Rc8 44. Rd7 Rd8 45. Re7 Ng5+ 46. Kg4
Kf8 47. Rb7 Ne4 48. Bb4 Rc8 49. c6+ Draw. ½–½.
In their sixth turbulent battle, Corzo used a Hampe-Allgaier Gambit, but his maneuvers
foundered thanks to Capablanca’s good use of the tactical elements of his position. Capa-
blanca overlooked some winning moves, so he had to content himself with a perpetual check.

1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. Nf3 g5 5. h4 g4 6. Ng5 h6 7. N×f7 K×f7 8. d4 d5
9. e×d5 Qe7+ 10. Be2 f3 11. g×f3 g×f3 12. 0–0 Q×h4 13. B×f3 Nf6 14. Bh5+ Ke7
15. Qe2+ Kd8 16. R×f6 Rg8+ 17. Rg6 R×g6+ 18. B×g6 Qg3+ 19. Qg2 Qe1+ 20. Qf 1
Draw. ½–½.
Since neither of them was satisfied with the way they had used the opening, they tried
it once again in a way that would make history in the eighth game, after the seventh ended
in a draw.

Match, 7th Game, Havana, 3 December 1901
1. d4 f5 2. e4 f×e4 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 c6 5. B×f6 e×f6 6. N×e4 d5 7. Ng3 Bd6 8. Bd3
Be6 9. Qe2 Kd7 10. 0–0–0 g6 11. h4 f5 12. h5 f4 13. Re1 f×g3 14. Q×e6+ Kc7 15. f×g3
Nd7 16. h×g6 h×g6 17. R×h8 Qg5+ 18. Qe3 Q×e3+ 19. R×e3 R×h8 20. Nh3 Nf8 21. Kd2
Rg8 22. Ng5 Kd7 23. Ke2 Rg7 24. Rf3 Ne6 25. N×e6 K×e6 26. g4 Be7 27. Re3+ Kd6
28. g3 Draw. ½–½.
At their eighth game, Corzo had the misfortune to be the first one to realize how dan-
gerous it was to play twice the same position against Capablanca. Years later, Mikhail Botvin-
nik said that the Cuban pragmatically updated his knowledge in the theoretical jungle of
opening moves.

Match, 8th Game, Havana, 6 December 1901 rDbDwgn4
0p0w1kDw
1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. Nf3 g5 5. h4 g4 6. Ng5 wDnDwDw0
The Hampe-Allgaier Gambit, named after its creators: the Ger- DwDPDwDw
man Johann Baptist Allgaier (1763–1823), one of the operators wDw)w0p)
of the automaton, and the Viennese Hofrat Hampe (1814–1876). DwHwDwDw
6. ... h6 7. N×f7 K×f7 8. d4 d5 9. e×d5 Qe7+ (see diagram) P)PDwIPD
10. Kf2 “We had played this variation in a previous game, $wGQDBDR
and Corzo had answered 10. Be2 to this check. The game ended After 9 .… Qe7+
in a draw, but I should have won. Corzo analyzed the position and told someone that he
should have played 10. Kf2. When I heard this I analyzed the situation myself and decided
to play it again as I thought that Black should won with the continuation which I put in
practice in this game” (Capablanca, My Chess Career, 1920, page 6). 10. ... g3+ 11. Kg1
N×d4 12. Q×d4 Qc5 13. Ne2 (see diagram)
13. ... Qb6! This is the move prepared by Capablanca. It is
rDbDwgn4 much stronger than 13. ... Bg4 14. Be3 Q×d4 15. B×d4 B×e2
0p0wDkDw 16. B×e2 Bg7? (Better is 16. ... Nf6 but White is also better after
wDwDwDw0 17. h5 Bd6 18. Bd3 Rhf8 19. c4 c5 20. d×c6 b×c6 21. Rh4 Rad8
Dw1PDwDw 22. Rd1 Kg8 23. Bc2 Bc7 24. Kf1) 17. Bh5+ Kf8 18. Bc5+ Ne7
wDw!w0w) 19. Re1 b6 20. B×e7+ Kg8 21. c3 Bf8 22. Kf1 Rh7 23. B×f8 R×f8
DwDwDw0w 24. Re6 Rd7 25. Bf3 Kg7 26. Ke2 Rf6 27. R×f6 K×f6 28. Be4
P)PDNDPD Ke5 29. Kf3 Rd8 30. Re1 (1–0) M. Laquière–M. Desmarest, cor-
$wGwDBIR
respondence game (Deutsche Wochenschach, number 46, Novem-
After 13. Ne2 ber 17, 1889). 14. Q×b6 It seems incredible, but this is the
decisive mistake. Of course, if 14. Be3 f×e3 15. Q×h8 Bg7
16. Qh7 Qf6 17. N×g3 Qf2+ 18. Kh2 Nf6 and White can resign. But this has been suggested:
14. b4 B×b4 15. Be3 Bc5 (15. ... f×e3 16. Q×h8) 16. Q×f4+ Nf6 17. B×c5 Q×c5+ 18. Qd4
(18. Nd4 Re8 with the idea to play the rook to e4) 18. ... Q×d4+ 19. N×d4 N×d5 20. Bc4
c6 21. Rf1+ Ke7 22. Rf3 Rg8 and although Black is better, White can put up a strong defense.
14. ... a×b6 15. Nd4 Bc5 16. c3 Ra4 It is interesting to observe how the young Capablanca
maintained the initiative. Now he threatens to take d4 with the rook. 17. Be2 17. b4 R×b4!
17. ... B×d4+ 18. c×d4 R×d4 19. b3 19. Bh5+ Kg7 20. b3 Nf6 21. Bb2 R×d5 (also possible
is 21. ... Rd2 22. Bc3 Rd3 23. Bb2 Rd8 24. Rc1 R8xd5 25. R×c7+ Bd7 winning) 22. Bf3 Rc5
with two pawns ahead and a better position. 19. ... Nf6 20. Bb2 Or 20. Ba3 Re8 21. Bc4
N×d5 22. Bb2 R×c4 23. b×c4 f3 24. g×f3 (24. c×d5 f2+ 25. Kf1 Bf5 26. Rd1 Bd3+ 27. R×d3
Re1 mate) 24. ... Nf4 25. h5 Re2 26. Rh4 Ng2 27. Rd4 R×b2 winning. 20. ... Rd2 21. Bh5+
N×h5! An exchange sacrifice to carry out the final attack. 22. B×h8 f3 23. g×f3 Nf4 24. Be5
24. Re1 Rg2+ 25. Kf1 Rf2+ 26. Kg1 Bh3 27. Be5 Ne2+ 28. R×e2 Rf1 mate. 24. ... Rg2+
25. Kf 1 Rf2+ 26. Ke1 26. Kg1 Ne2 mate. 26. ... Nd3+ After 27. Kd1 g2 28. Rg1 N×e5
29. Ke1 Rb2 There is nothing to do. Capablanca consumed five minutes in all the game!
White, who consumed 40 minutes, resigned. 0–1.
Here a question arises. Did Capablanca know about the Laquière–Desmarest game
that appeared in Deutsche Wochenschach magazine in 1889 and introduce his innovation on
move 13 after studying it? He didn’t mention it. As observed before, he only said, “I analyzed
the situation myself and decided to play it again as I thought that Black should win....” It is
hard to give this question a definite response because Capablanca tended to be very evasive
about this sort of thing. Another clue we have in this respect is the one given by himself in
My Chess Career: “Some of my admirers thought that I should have a good chance of beating
J. Corzo. They attributed my defeats to the fact that I had never seen chess books and urged
me to study. One of them gave me several books, among which was one of endings. I liked
the endings and studied some of them.”
After this defeat, Corzo understood that he should refocus his strategy and accept
that he could not force Capablanca’s hand any more, regardless of the color of his pieces.
As a consequence, in the ninth game, Corzo chose once more the Dutch Defense, but
whoever supposed that such a decision entailed a wish to take things to their ultimate con-
sequences was soon let down by his eagerness to exchange queens. Capablanca was also able
to exchange both rooks, so he achieved the minimal advantage of bishop versus knight;
and once he started advancing his king toward the center, Corzo understood suddenly that
everything looked just like the position that had given Capablanca his first victory in the
match.

1. d4 f5 2. e4 The Staunton Gambit, played for the first time in the game Staunton–
Horwitz, London 1846. White won in 56 moves. 2. ... f×e4 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 c6 4. ... d5?
5. B×f6 e×f6 6. Qh5+. 5. B×f6 The only other game in which Capablanca played the
Staunton Gambit after the match was in the casual game Capablanca–Masyutin, Kiev, 1914:
5. f3 e×f3 6. N×f3 e6 7. Bd3 d5 8. 0–0 Nbd7 9. Ne5 Be7 10. B×f6 B×f6 11. Qh5+ Ke7
12. B×h7 Nf8? (the correct move was 12. … Qe8! But not 12. ... Qg8 13. Ng6+ Kd8 14. N×h8
B×d4+ 15. Kh1 Q×h8 16. Rf7 Nf6 17. Qh4 B×c3 18. b×c3 Q×h7 19. Q×f6+ g×f6 20. R×h7
winning) 13. Qf7+ Kd6 14. Nc4+ d×c4 15. Ne4+ Kd5 16. Rf5+ K×e4 17. Re1+ K×d4
18. c3+ Kd3 19. Rd5 mate. 5. ... e×f6 (of course not 5. ... g×f6 6. Qh5 mate) 6. N×e4 d5
7. Ng3 Qe7+ (in the seventh game of the match Corzo played 7. ... Bd6). 8. Qe2 (8. Be2?
Qb4+ winning a pawn) 8. ... Q×e2+ A modern example is 8. ... h5 9. Q×e7+ K×e7 10. Bd3
Kf7 11. Nf3 h4 12. Nf5 h3 13. g4 Na6 14. c3 Nc7 15. g5 Ne6 16. g×f6 Nf4 and Black is OK.
Domínguez Rueda–Vallejo, Villa Robledo 2001. 9. B×e2 Bd6 10. Nf3 0–0 11. 0–0 Bg4
Black starts a dubious sequence including the exchange of his two bishops for the White
knights (this seems better: 11. ... g6 12. Bd3 Bg4 13. Nh4 Nd7 14. h3 Be6 15. Rfe1 Rae8
16. Re2 Bf7 17. Rae1 R×e2 18. R×e2 b6 and Black is on top. Salama–Yousry, Cairo 1998).
12. h3 B×f3 13. B×f3 B×g3 14. f×g3 Nd7 15. Rfe1 Rae8 16. Kf 1 f5 17. R×e8 R×e8 18. Re1
R×e1+ 19. K×e1 (see diagram)
19. ... Nf6 20. Kd2 Ne4+ 21. Ke3 Nd6 If 21. ... N×g3 22. Kf4
Nf1 23. Be2 (not 23. K×f5 Ne3+ winning a pawn) 23. ... Nd2 wDwDwDkD
24. K×f5 with White’s advantage. But better seems 21. ... g5 blocking 0pDnDw0p
the way of the White king to f4. 22. Be2 Kf7 (22. ... g5) 23. Kf4 wDpDwDwD
Kf6 24. h4 g6 If 24. ... h6 25. h5. 25. g4 h6 The last chance to pre- DwDpDpDw
vent the penetration through the black squares was: 25. ... f×g4 wDw)wDwD
DwDwDB)P
26. B×g4 h6. 26. g5+ Capablanca takes advantage of the opportu-
P)PDwDPD
nity. 26. ... h×g5+ 27. h×g5+ Ke7 28. g4! Opening lines for the DwDwIwDw
bishop. 28. ... f×g4 29. Bd3 Nf5 Allowing a passed pawn. Perhaps
better: 29. ... Kf7 30. K×g4 Nb5 31. c3 Nc7 and “the game should After 19. K×e1
be drawn” (Hooper and Brandreth, The Unknown Capablanca,
1975, page 130). A possible variation could be: 32. Kf4 Ne6+ 33. Ke5 Ke7 with an even game.
30. K×g4 N×d4 31. B×g6 c5 32. Kh5 Ne6 33. Kh6 Kf8 34. Bf5 Ng7 If 34. ... Nd4 35. Bd7
N×c2 (35. ... Nf3 36. g6 Ne5 37. g7+ Kg8 38. Be6+ Nf7+ 39. Kg6 winning.) 36. g6 Kg8 37. Be6+
Kh8 38. g7 mate (Irving Chernev, Capablanca’s Best Chess Endings, Dover, 1978, page 3). 35. Bc8
b6 36. g6 d4 37. b3 Kg8 38. a4 Kf8 39. Bg4 Ne8 40. Kh7 More straightforward was 40. Be2
as we can see later. But as the Russian grandmaster Alexander Kotov (Think Like a Grandmaster,
London, 1995, page 158) said: “You will already have noticed how often Capablanca repeated
moves, often returning to positions which he had had before. This is not lack of decisiveness
or slowness, but the employment of a basic endgame principle which is: ‘Do not hurry.’”
40. ... Ng7 41. Kh6 Ne8 42. Be2 Ng7 43. Bc4 Ne8 44. Kg5 (see diagram)
44. ... Ke7 Corzo decides to block the passed pawn with
wDwDniwD his knight to have his king free to fight against the White king.
0wDwDwDw This has been considered by some commentators as the decisive
w0wDwDPD mistake, recommending instead 44. .... Kg7 45. Bd5 Nf6 (better
Dw0wDwIw seems 45. … Nd6 with chances to save the game) 46. Bc6 Ng8
PDB0wDwD 47. Be4 Ne7 48. Bd3 Nc6 49. Kf5 Ne7+ 50. Ke5 N×g6+
DPDwDwDw 51. Kd6. But White has a winning advantage after 51. ... Nf4
wDPDwDwD 52. Kc7 Kf6 53. Kb7 Ke7 54. K×a7 Nd5 55. Bc4 Ne3 56. K×b6.
DwDwDwDw 45. Kf5 Ng7+ 46. Ke5 Nh5 47. Be2 Ng7 48. Kd5 Ne8 Or 48. ...
After 44. Kg5 Kd7 49. Bg4+ Ke7 (49. ... Kc7 50. Ke5) 50. Kc6 winning. 49. Kc6
Ng7 50. Kb7 Kd6 51. K×a7 Kc7 52. Ka6 Ne8 53. Bf3 Ng7
54. Bd5 Ne8 If 54. ... Nf5 55. Be4 Ng7 56. Kb5 Ne8 57. a5 Nd6+ 58. Ka6 N×e4 59. a×b6+
Kb8 60. g7 Nf6 61. Kb5 Kb7 62. K×c5 Ng8 63. K×d4 winning. 55. Bf7 Ng7 56. Kb5 Nf5
57. a5 Nd6+ If 57. ... b×a5 58. K×c5 winning. 58. Ka6 b×a5 If 58. ... Nf5 59. a×b6+ Kb8
60. Kb5 winning. 59. g7 Black resigned. White consumed 24 minutes. Black, 43. With this
victory, Capablanca took a 3–2 lead in the match. 1–0.
It was night. I went home and put my old house clothes on and set the chessmen out and mixed
a drink and played over another Capablanca. It went 59 moves. Beautiful and remorseless chess,
almost creepy in its silent implacability. When it was done I listened at the open window for a
while and smelled the night. Then I carried my glass out to the kitchen, and rinsed it and filled
it with ice water and stood at the sink sipping it and looking at my face in the mirror. “You and
Capablanca,” I said [Raymond Chandler, The High Window, 1942].
This victory could be the key to another of Raymond Chandler’s famous mysteries,
although this time he did not leave us the solution because other Capablanca games against
Isaac L. Horowitz, besides two simultaneous games (Capablanca–G.C. Oskam, Middelburg
1911, and Capablanca–N.T. Whitaker, Washington 1915), also ended in victory for the Cuban
player at move 59. Chess historian Edward Winter has said that it was most likely the game
against Horowitz that Chandler was referring to.
At the tenth game an armistice was reached after several minor blunders on both sides.
Capablanca had a pawn less but a better overall placement, and there were opposite-colored
bishops.

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. N×e5 d6 4. Nf3 N×e4 5. d4 d5 6. Bd3 Bd6 7. 0–0 0–0 8. c4
c6 9. B×e4 d×e4 10. Ng5 Bf5 11. Nc3 Nd7 12. Re1 Re8 13. c5 Bc7 14. Qb3 Re7 15. Ng×e4
Re6 16. Bg5 Qb8 17. Ng3 B×g3 18. h×g3 b5 19. R×e6 B×e6 20. Qc2 b4 21. Ne4 b3
22. a×b3 Q×b3 23. Q×b3 B×b3 24. Ra6 Nb8 25. Ra3 Bc2 26. Nd6 h6 27. Bd8 Nd7
28. Bb6 a6 29. b4 g6 30. f3 Nf6 31. Nc4 Nd5 32. Ba5 Re8 33. Ne5 Re6 34. Ra2 Bb3
35. Ra1 Bc2 36. Kf2 f6 37. Nd7 Bd3 38. Re1 R×e1 39. K×e1 Bb5 40. Kd2 Kf7 41. Nb6
Ke6 Draw. ½–½.
The eleventh game would be almost unanimously considered as a great tactical display,
and it has been quoted in the majority of the books about Capablanca, despite the fact that,
according to him, the queen sacrifice that made it famous was unnecessary.
Capablanca–Juan Corzo [D05]

1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 c5 3. e3 Nc6 4. b3 e6 5. Bb2 Nf6 6. Nbd2 c×d4 Alekhine commented
in a similar situation: “Oddly enough, this exchange—which opens for White the central
file without compensation (as there is nothing for Black to do with the c file) is not made
infrequently even by very experienced players” (Alekhine–Marquis S. Roselli Del Turco,
1934; Alekhine, My Best Games of Chess 1924–1937, London, 1939). To see how Capablanca
handled the Black position, see the game Bogoljubow–Capablanca, New York 1924, in
Chapter 11. 7. e×d4 Bd6 8. Bd3 0–0 9. 0–0 Nh5 10. g3 f5 11. Ne5 Nf6 12. f4 Khalifman
recommends 12. a3 Qb6 13. Ndf3 Bd7 14. Re1 Rae8 15. c4 with a small White advan-
tage. 12. ... B×e5 It is noteworthy the way Corzo gets rid of his bishops in this match.
12. ...Qb6 13. Ndf3 Ne4 or 13. ... Bd7 has been recommended with the idea to play the bishop
e8–h5. 13. f×e5 Ng4 If 13. ... Ne4 14. N×e4 f×e4 (14. ... d×e4 15. Bc4 and White is better)
15. Be2 with advantage. 14. Qe2 Qb6 15. Nf3 Bd7 Perhaps better is 15. ... Nb4 although
computer analysis says White is somewhat better after 16. Ba3 Rd8 17. B×b4 Q×b4
18. Rac1. 16. a3 Kh8 17. h3 Nh6 18. Qf2 Nf7 19. Kg2 g5 This move was criticized by
many commentators, because it opens a diagonal to the Black king, something that
Capablanca takes advantage of in the game. But the idea is to search for a counterattack
against the White kingside. It is interesting that Capablanca did not comment on this move
in My Chess Career. Other possibilities are 19. ... a5 with the idea of 19. ... a4; and 19. ...
Kg8. 20. g4 Ne7 It would be suicidal to play 20. ... f×g4 21. h×g4 and White has two open
lines against the Black king : the b1–h7 diagonal and the h column. Nor does 20. ... f4
21. Rh1with the idea of h4 look good. 21. Qe3 Rg8 22. Rae1 Interesting is 22. Rf2 to defend
the bishop on b2 and eventually to play c4. 22. ... Ng6 Black could exchange one of the
White attacking pieces with 22. ... Bb5 23. Rf2 (23. c4 Bc4) 23. ... B×d3 24. Q×d3 Ng6.
23. g×f5 Interesting was 23. Kh1 moving the king out of the g file. 23. ... Nf4+ 24. Kh2
N×d3 25. Q×d3 e×f5 26. c4 26. Ng1 is probably better against the coming attack. 26. ...
Qe6? A big mistake. Correct was 26. ... g4 27. Nh4 g3+ 28. Kg2 d×c4 29. Qd2 Be6 with
advantage. 27. c×d5 Q×d5 28. e6 Bb5 (see diagram)
29. Q×b5 “Today, very likely, I would simply have played rDwDwDri
29. Qd2 and won also, but at the time I could not resist the temp- 0pDwDnDp
tation of sacrificing the Queen” (Capablanca, My Chess Career, wDwDPDwD
page 10). For example: 29. ... B×f1 30. e×f7 Rgf8 31. N×g5 Bb5 DbDqDp0w
32. Re5 Qd6 33. d5 winning. 29. ... Q×b5 30. d5+ Rg7 31. e×f7 wDw)wDwD
h6 “31. ... Rf8 32. Nd4 [A.N.: Stronger is 32. N×g5 winning] )PDQDNDP
Q×d5 33. Re8 Q×f7 34. R×f8+ Q×f8 35. N×f5 and White wGwDwDwI
should win” (Capablanca). 32. Nd4 Q×f1 “32. ... Qd7 33. N×f5 DwDw$RDw
Q×f7 34. B×g7+ Kh7 35. Re7 winning the queen as Black cannot After 28 … Bb5
play 35. ... Q×d5 36. Be5+ Kg6 37. Rg7+ Kh5 38. Ng3+ Kh4
39. Rf4+ g×f4 40. Rg4 mate (Capablanca). 33. R×f1 R×f7 34. R×f5 R×f5 35. N×f5+ Kh7
36. Ne7! Preventing the approach of the Black king to the passed pawn. 36. ... Rf8
37. Kg2 h5 38. d6 g4 39. h×g4 h×g4 40. Be5 Kh6 40. ... Rf3 41. Bd4 Rd3 42. Nf5 Kg6
43. d7 (Chernev). 41. d7 Rd8 (see diagram)
42. Ng8+! R×g8 43. Bf6 Kg6 44. d8=Q R×d8 45. B×d8
wDw4wDwD “The rest is easy” (Capablanca). Maybe for Capablanca, but dur-
0pDPHwDw ing the last part of the game White could spoil the victory at least
wDwDwDwi twice. 45. ... b5 46. Kf2 Kf5 47. Ke3 Ke5 48. Kd3 Kd5 49. Kc3
DwDwGwDw g3 50. Bh4 g2 51. Bf2 a5 52. b4 Ke4 53. Bb6 But not 53. b×a5?
wDwDwDpD Kd5 54. a6 Kc6 55. Kb4 Kc7 56. Ba7 g1=Q 57. B×g1 Kb8 draw-
)PDwDwDw ing. 53. ... Kd5 54. Kd3 Kc6 55. Bg1 Kd5 56. Bh2 Kc6 57. Kd4
wDwDwDKD a4 58. Ke5 Kb6 59. Kd5 Ka6 60. Kc5 If 60. Kc6? g1=Q
DwDwDwDw
61. B×g1 and draw. Black resigned. A very complicated game in
After 41. … Rd8 which Capablanca used only 42 minutes. Corzo, 1 hour and 35
minutes. 1–0.
At the twelfth game, Capablanca showed a cool composure in the most desperate
moments. At move 40, Corzo threw his winning position overboard because of a huge error,
and upon realizing it he proposed a draw, which was accepted. With this result Capablanca
achieved the most significant victory thus far for a 13-year-old child in the history of chess—
although one more game was played that was not necessary (since Capablanca had won the
agreed-upon four games), won by Corzo. In the end, the result was 7–6 in Capablanca’s
favor: He finished the match with 4 wins, 6 draws and 3 losses, or 4 wins, 6 draws and 2
losses if you don’t count the last game, as Capablanca did in My Chess Career.40

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 N×e4 5. d4 Nd6 6. B×c6 b×c6 7. Bg5 Be7
8. B×e7 Q×e7 9. N×e5 0–0 10. Re1 Re8 11. Re3 Qf6 12. Nc3 Nf5 13. Ne4 Qe7 14. Re1
d5 15. Nc5 Qd6 16. c3 f6 17. Qh5 g6 18. N×g6 R×e1+ 19. R×e1 Ng7 20. Ne7+ Q×e7
21. Q×h7+ K×h7 22. R×e7 Bf5 23. R×c7 Kg6 24. f3 Ne6 25. N×e6 B×e6 26. R×c6 Re8
27. Rc7 a6 28. Rc6 Bd7 29. R×a6 Bb5 30. Rb6 Re1+ 31. Kf2 Re2+ 32. Kg3 Bc4 33. b3
Bd3 34. a4 Rc2 35. a5 R×c3 36. a6 Rc2 37. a7 Ra2 38. Rb7 Bf1 39. Kf4 B×g2 40. Rb8
R×a7 Draw. ½–½.
Years later, when he was already world champion, Capablanca wrote about his victory
over Corzo in Windsor Magazine (December 1922):
The match was somewhat dramatic; the victor was to be the player who first scored four wins. I
began by losing the first two games. On account of my age, I had the sympathy of the vast major-
ity of the chess players and the public in general, and their disappointment after such a disas-
trous start can be readily conceived. With practically but one exception, that of my lamented
friend A. Fiol, all the amateurs and experts gave me up for lost. The consensus of opinion was
that I was outclassed by the champion. I must confess that I had very similar feelings, and that I
was overawed by the vast technical knowledge of my adversary. I had nothing to oppose to his
experience but my clear imagination and ability, already evident, of playing the last part of the
game with considerable accuracy. My friend Fiol encouraged me in my determination to do bet-
ter. As matters turned out, I was able to win four games before my opponent could add one sin-
gle point [i.e., a win] to his score.
But even so, how can the triumphs of the adolescent over Juan Corzo be explained? It
is evident that Capablanca learned many things along the way, such as his rival’s weaknesses
in the final part of the game. So when he realized them, he didn’t avoid the exchange of
pieces to arrive at the endgame, a stage in which he will be considered later as one of its more
celebrated players. He also learned a great lesson, after a public comment made by Corzo in
the sixth game, where according to him there had been a more promising possibility in move
10, to keep to himself his opinions about certain opening positions. As a matter of fact, his
parsimony of comments also ended up becoming legendary, a lesson he learned from Corzo’s
indiscretion.41
Similarly, a key to his triumph has to be seen in the defeats he suffered and in what they
were able to awaken. A constant throughout his life was that his failures were what made
him grow. Nobody understood better than he the effects of those setbacks:
There have been times in my life when I came very near thinking that I could not lose even a sin-
gle game. Then I would be beaten, and the lost game would bring me back from dreamland to
earth. Nothing is so healthy as a thrashing at the proper time, and from few won games [have] I
learned as much as I have from most of my defeats. Of course I would not like to be beaten at a
critical moment, but otherwise, I hope that I may at odd times in the future lose a few more
games, if thereby I derive as much benefits as I have obtained from defeats of the past.42
The news of his victories went beyond the country’s borders and spread through the
chess circles of the Spanish-speaking world, but not yet elsewhere. The event became world
famous only after Capablanca came to be the top chess star in the United States. Then every-
one suddenly became interested in his past, and the tale of his wunderkind victories, in which
he defeated seasoned opponents, took flight and soared. But that was not the case in 1902.
Generally speaking, the news did not attract much attention, as if many still were dubious
that an adolescent could really penetrate the mysteries of Caissa. A classic example of such
ambivalent attitude was the magazine El Ajedrez Argentino, one of the few that dedicated a
few lines to his victory over Corzo in the 1901 match, which suggested the young man could
go far but—not wanting to go out on a prophetic limb—did not venture beyond a few
vaguely phrased commendations foretelling future laurels for him. Undoubtedly such a feat
was something to celebrate, and José A. Gelabert, in one of his Viejas Estampas del Ajedrez
Cubano, wrote that upon his return to the town of Aguacate, around 45 miles east of Havana,
where his family had just purchased a farm, people carried Capablanca on their shoulders
in triumph when he came down from the train that brought him back from the capital.43
In point of fact, had Capablanca been considered Cuba’s “champion” after the match,
the “title” would have had to be retracted four months later, because the club organized a
double-round tournament with a six-player roster, a tournament that Juan Corzo convinc-
ingly won after defeating his young rival twice. In its April 30 edition, Diario de la Marina
published a crosstable of the event under the headline: “Tournament for the Championship
of Cuba.”44 But the 1902 tournament was not of interest to chess history, not even acciden-
tally. Capablanca never mentioned it either; so his personal trajectory went without transition
from his victory over Corzo to his first visits to the Manhattan Chess Club in New York,
where he was sometimes mentioned as “the Cuban champion.” Corzo himself, in a show of
modesty far from usual among chess players, mentioned Capablanca several times as the
Cuban champion, not as a formal title, but as an acknowledgment of his obvious potential.
One of the exceptions was at Capablanca’s return to Cuba in July of 1909 after defeating
Marshall, an occasion in which Corzo referred to him as “the ex–Cuban champion.”
At that 1902 “Cuba championship” tournament Capablanca seemed very distracted.

Not only did he lose five games but he also showed weakness in his performance: committing
tactical errors, rushing his attacks and showing scarce coordination or good judgment while
playing. Besides the tournament, Capablanca played several individual games in February,
March and April of 1902. One of them, played Monday, February 3, against Enrique Corzo,
showcased the creativity that the young man already possessed for complicated tactic maneu-
vering—a game that has justly survived the test of time:
Enrique Corzo–Capablanca [C10]

Cuban Championship, Havana, 3 February 1902
1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 d×e4 4. N×e4 Bd7 This is the first game with this move in
the Big Data Base 2012. However, the French commentator Dominique Primel says this
move, which starts what is now known as the Fort Knox Variation, was fashionable in the
1890s. 5. Nf3 Bc6 6. Bd3 Nd7 There is the trap 6. ... Nf6 7. N×f6+ Q×f6 8. Bg5 B×f3
9. Qd2! winning. 7. 0–0 Also recommended is 7. Qe2 Ngf6 8. Ng3 followed by the bishop
to d2 and long castling. 7. ... Ngf6 8. Bg5 Nowadays the move favored is 8. Ng3 8. ... Be7
9. N×f6+ B×f6 10. Be3 0–0 11. c3 b6 12. Qc2 Kh8 13. Nd2 Re8 14. B×h7 This leads to
the exchange of a bishop for three pawns. It is thought that, in the middle game, this is favor-
able for the side with the piece. Better is 14. f4 g6 15. Nf3 B×f3 16. R×f3 with a little advan-
tage for White. 14. ... g6 15. B×g6 f×g6 16. Q×g6 Qe7 17. f4 Better is 17. Ne4 Rg8 18. Qh5+
Qh7 19. Q×h7+ K×h7 20. N×f6+ N×f6 21. f3 with only a small advantage for Black. 17. ...
Qh7 18. Q×h7+ K×h7 19. Nf3 Rg8 20. Rae1 Rg6 21. Bd2 Bd5 22. b3 Rf8 23. Kh1 Or
23. Ng5+! with an unclear position. 23. ... c5 Black is already better. 24. d×c5 N×c5 25. c4
If 25. Ng5+ B×g5 26. f×g5 R×f1+ 27. R×f1 Ne4 winning. 25. ... Ba8 26. Bb4 Rfg8 27. B×c5
If 27. Re2 Ne4 with a clear advantage for Black. Now Capablanca
bDwDwDrD begins a spectacular combination (see diagram)
0wDwDwDk 27. ... R×g2! 28. Be3 If 28. Ba3 Rg1+ 29. R×g1 B×f3+
w0wDpgrD 30. Rg2 B×g2+ 31. Kg1 Bd4+ 32. Re3 B×e3 mate. 28. ... Bh4
DwGwDwDw (simpler was 28. … R×a2) 29. Rd1 If 29. N×h4 Rg1 mate. 29. ...
wDPDw)wD Bf2! 30. Rd7+ (if 30. R×f2 R×f2 31. Rd7+ Kh6 32. f5+ Kh5
DPDwDNDw 33. Rh7+ Kg4 34. B×f2 K×f3 35. Bg3 Rd8 36. Be1 Rd1 37. h4
PDwDwDP) R×e1+ 38. Kh2 Kf4 winning ). 30. ... Kh6 31. Rd5 B×e3
DwDw$RDK 32. Ng5 R2xg5 33. f×g5+ R×g5 34. Rf6+ Kh5 35. R×e6
After 27. B×c5 B×d5+ 36. c×d5 Rg1 mate.45 0–1.
After those individual games in the beginning of 1902, Capablanca faded from the
public view once again, this time until April 25, 1903. On that date, a long-distance match
by cable started between the chess clubs of Havana and Manhattan—a match that ended the
following day with the victory of the New Yorkers. There are two photographs of Capablanca
at that time (one sitting down, the other standing) among the other members of the Cuban
team. Both pictures show Capablanca looking bored and perhaps resigned. It is not known
if his suggestions were taken into consideration—assuming he made any. These slow games
by telegraph were evidently not his cup of tea. Such an extended absence from the club was
due to the fact that from September 30, 1902, he had gone back to study at the Matanzas
Institute, after his family moved to Aguacate, where his father José María had been appointed
Capablanca’s family lived in this house, at 1606 37th Street, in the Aguacate village, Havana,
now in Mayabeque province on the border with Matanzas province. Capablanca lived there from
around the middle of 1901 to July 1904, when he embarked to New York (author’s collection).
municipal judge.46 Since at the time commuting every day between Aguacate and Matanzas
was a cumbersome affair, Capablanca’s family arranged for him to stay at 88 Manzano Street,47
the house of Mateo Fiol Fuertes, a professor at the Matanzas Institute for Secondary Edu-
cation and a cousin of Antonio Fiol, the classmate of Morphy.
Despite the presence of Fiol, who is thought to have served as his tutor,48 José Raúl’s
academic performance during his last two years of study in Cuba was mediocre. It is true
that he did not fail any subject, and even passed two that he had previously failed in Havana.
But without exception all his grades during the 1902–1903 and 1903–1904 school years were
barely passing, as if his mind were very far from the classrooms (unless at that transitional
time of Cuban education there was a general way of grading just by “passed” or “failed”).
He was not very active in the chess world, either, so it is difficult to explain such a sub-
stantial decline in his academic performance, if such a thing happened. Young Capablanca
seemed to have a natural balance of sorts: once he concentrated on one thing, he would neg-
lect another, and vice versa. Apart from school, Capablanca went once in a while (probably
many times in the company of Fiol, although he does not mention him by name) to the
rooms of the Casino Español and the Lyceum of the city of Matanzas, where chess clubs had
been in existence since the middle of the previous century. So his mediocre academic per-
formance cannot be explained by an excessive dedication to the game, and its origin has to
be sought elsewhere. Perhaps it was simply a matter of adaptation, probably because of his
being far from home for the first time. From this time at the city of Matanzas comes an anec-
dote told by Capablanca years later in Windsor Magazine:
One day in a provincial town I was taken to one of the local clubs. In a corner of the room two
elderly gentlemen were playing. There was no one about as I sat and watched them play. I have
been accustomed from childhood to sit quietly while watching others play. Many times I have
witnessed the most appalling mistakes without saying a word until I have been asked. On that
occasion, when the game was over, one of the gentlemen had to leave, and the other, not seeing
any of his customary opponents around, asked me if I knew the game. My silence had made him
doubtful on the subject. When I answered in the affirmative, he promptly offered me the odds of
a knight, as he said, in order to see how well I could do, and at the same time he volunteered the
information that he was the strongest player in the town. I have always made it a practice to
accept whatever odds have been offered to me.
I therefore accepted the proffered odds as we sat down to play. The old gentleman was some-
what astonished at the quick result, and, after trying one more game with lesser odds, decided
that I was too strong, and condescended to play me even. After he lost the first game he stated
that he was not fit. After the second game he decided that he must have been altogether ill and
far below his usual form, and by the time he lost the third game there was not a single disease
from which he was not suffering. Then I boldly offered to give him a knight, which he indig-
nantly accepted to show me that I presumed too much. This time it was a real struggle, but
finally the old gentleman, probably worn out, had to resign. He was so mortified that he put on
his hat and hardly said goodbye. On second thoughts he turned back to inquire my name, a
thing he had forgotten to do before playing. On finding out, his pride was evidently relieved,
and he apologized for having given me odds, adding that he had never thought it was possible
for such a mite of a boy to play as I did. This was the first as well as one of the most interesting
of many similar experiences.
The change in life of moving from Havana to Aguacate49 had been unforgettable for
the youngest ones in the family, who for the first time had the opportunity of enjoying the
outdoors. From that time is Gelabert’s story about the aforementioned sack race between
the town children. Their favorite weekend spot was the farm José María bought, close to a
hill from where they could see both coasts of the island. Life in Aguacate had capital sig-
nificance in Capablanca’s destiny, because it was there where his father met—or perhaps
resumed his acquaintance with—Ramón Pelayo de la Torriente, from one of the most pow-
erful financial clans in Cuba50; an entrepreneurial man, who upon visiting the United States
was profoundly impressed by the progress of industry there. In 1892, Pelayo bought the old
sugar mill “Rosario,” which he upgraded until transforming it into one of the most techno-
logically advanced in the island.
Since the second half of the nineteenth century, the Industrial Revolution had brought
enormous changes to the process of manufacturing sugar; and Pelayo, who was well aware
of Capablanca’s reputation as a child prodigy, thought that with a higher education the pre-
cocious chess player could be a great acquisition for his business. Hence his idea of funding
Capablanca’s studies at an American university, particularly in mechanical engineering and,
perhaps later, chemical engineering. There is a photograph from that time in which Pelayo
can be seen on the porch of his home in the company of Capablanca, while the young man
poses as if he were playing chess with his father, an old theme for both.
Pelayo was no stranger to chess in Cuba, or at least to its most renowned figure, for he
was acquainted with Celso Golmayo, who happened to be married to a relative of Pelayo’s,
Carmelina de la Torriente y Ceballos. Both men had also been affiliated with the conservative
Constitutional Union Party. The agreement between Pelayo and Capablanca’s parents should
have been a simple one: the first would fund José Raúl’s studies in the United States, and,
once he graduated, the young man would take care of the industrial side of the sugar business
of his Maecenas. Not to play chess, nor to dedicate any time to it, was surely a part of the
deal. Nicknamed el montañés (“the highlander”), Pelayo had a reputation for being stubborn.
The realities of life ended up destroying that agreement, since it pitted against each other
two opposed personalities. On one side, a young man with talent, but indifferent when there
was nobody by his side to guide him and help him focus; on the other side, a sedulous man
who was unforgiving of things carelessly done. A contract like the one made between Pelayo
and José María Capablanca was probably never put in writing; a handshake sufficed to seal
it.
Capablanca finished high school June 24, and once his graduation thesis (titled “Expla-
nation and Exposition of Deductive Reasoning”) was approved, all was in readiness for his
trip to New York City. On July 5 he received his high school diploma, and after that it was
a matter of Pelayo’s purchasing him a boat ticket and enrolling him in a language school as
a preliminary step. From those days there is a letter to Gabriel Díaz, secretary of the Matanzas
Institute:
Distinguished friend,
The 30th of this month I will depart for New York. You are aware that it is always convenient
[to have] documentation accrediting an individual’s identity. For that reason, I take the liberty of
bothering you hereby to ask that you please send me, if it feasible to you, a certified copy of the
Civil Registry record that is kept in the Institute.
I will depart for Havana in the morning of the 29th of the present month; therefore, you can
send it to this town, or, if not so, until Friday evening to the Inglaterra Hotel [in Havana City].
Please give my regards to my former teachers, and feel free to ask of me as you see fit. Your
most obliged and faithful friend,
On the other side of the page:

I am sending you the enclosed request in case a formal requisition proves necessary. Capablanca51
On July 30, 1904, Capablanca boarded the steamboat Morro Castle and left, for the
first time, the Cuban shores, which he would not see again until July 19, 1909. A photograph
discolored and bleached by time shows him looking scared on the Havana docks beside his
parents, with a cheap portmanteau that he would later keep as a memento for the rest of his
life—and which his endless international wanderings covered in stickers from every place
he visited. Ramón Pelayo accompanied him on this trip to help him take his first steps in
New York. The passenger list shows that Pelayo would be in transit at that city, and that he
would continue traveling to Spain from there. Another passenger on that ship would years
later play a prominent role in the life of Capablanca: Regino Truffin, an impresario who had
made his money exporting sugar derived products. After Truffin died, his widow sold a por-
tion of the gardens of their Havana state, and it was there that the Tropicana cabaret, one
of the most famous nightclubs in the world, was erected.
Capablanca arrived in New York on August 2, 1904. It was a moment of rapidly chang-
ing customs in Manhattan, when for rich families it was a sign of distinction to live in the
upper floors, not the lower ones. Like many others visiting the city for the first time, Capa-
blanca was struck by the huge crowds and the variety of the street foods. Unlike Havana,
where everything was done with parsimony, in New York everybody was in a hurry even to
The Secondary Education academic summary of student José Raúl Capablanca was signed on
June 29, 1904. Issued on the same day was his diploma as “Bachelor in Arts and Sciences” (author’s
collection).
Degree of Bachelor in Arts and Sciences, Class of 1904, signed by Gabriel Díaz, principal of the
Matanzas Institute of Secondary Education (author’s collection).
eat his lunch, a new word in his vocabulary. There was not time to go to the house for a
family meal and a midday siesta. And as Munsey’s Magazine, where later he published one
of his most beautiful chronicles, observed: “Haste seems to be a controlling factor in the lunch-
eon of the workers.” For the first time he tasted pretzels, the typical Manhattan snack, sold
by the must humble entrepreneurs of the city, the pretzel women, as the New York Time called
them: “stolid, dull-witted and short of speech and temper.” He didn’t understand why it was
undignified to eat those warm and salty pieces of bread in front of other people of his class.
Everything suggests that as soon as Pelayo left him settled in the town of Orange, New
Jersey, and boarded a ship bound for Europe, Capablanca was free to visit New York’s
renowned chess club. An easy feat, since an acquaintance and admirer of his gifts, Arístides
Martínez, was its president. Probably due to the young man’s ignorance of the streets of New
York, Albert Ettlinger (a renowned buyer of Cuban tobacco and his old 1901 opponent)
took him to the place, in the upper floor of the Carnegie Hall, on the corner of Seventh
Avenue and 57th Street. The first registered visit of Capablanca to the Manhattan Chess
Club was Thursday, January 5, 1905, according to Hermann Helms, but he recognized that
before that date the young Cuban “had been an occasional visitor” of the club. Of Capa-
blanca’s first visit to the Manhattan Chess Club, brought by Ettlinger, Corzo left an account
full of firsthand information provided in all likelihood by Martínez:
A rare image in the terrace of the home of Ramón Pelayo (with white clothes, smiling). In other
known photographs in the same place, Capablanca is looking at his father and not the camera.
The meeting was likely on the occasion of the planned trip to New York. It was a ceremonial
occasion in which everyone was smartly dressed (author’s collection).
Raúl’s introduction at the Manhattan Chess Club, which took place two years ago, was indeed
noteworthy. The old regulars at the well-known New York club received Mr. Ettlinger, his escort
(who, having visited our club in several occasions, had extolled before them with expressive
praise the talents of that 15-year-old adolescent), with mischievous winks and smiles.
“Now we shall see how good is this paragon of precociousness,” they said, not without a cer-
tain amount of scorn.
—“Who is going to tackle him?”
—“Let him play with Delmar.”
Eugenio Delmar is one of the deftest paladins at the Manhattan club, and also one of the most
conceited. Perhaps that was the reason why they chose him as a touchstone for the young Cuban
champion, who they believed would not be more than a novel amateur of relative merit.
Delmar would play carefully and would not allow an adolescent to defeat him, since his own
inordinate pride was at stake.
But “Man proposes, God disposes.” With his accustomed swiftness, Capablanca defeated the
American master three consecutive times (five, according to a different account) and even had
time to play with Hodges and other distinguished professionals without losing but one game.
Afterwards he has continued frequenting the club, albeit only on Sundays—for his father, care-
ful and prudent, does not want him to devote to chess any time other than his leisure
moments.…52
Capablanca was introduced to Professor Isaac L. Rice, who invited him to be a part of
a committee dedicated to promoting the study and analysis of a variant that bore his name,
the “Rice Gambit.” The roll of illustrious figures that made up the association was an impres-
sive one, headed by the world champion Emanuel Lasker as secretary. A notice that appeared
February 6, 1905, on the occasion of a special supplement dedicated to the Rice Gambit in
the American Chess Bulletin, was not clear about whether Capablanca had been present at
the inaugural meeting of the Association—October 5, 1904, at Rice’s residence—or if it was
simply that his name had been approved as part of the committee, which was nevertheless
a great honor. If he was indeed at the meeting, he must have met Lasker that day for the first
time in his life.
On the other hand, it is certain that he attended Rice’s 56th birthday party (February
24, 1906) at his house, along with other guests which included the Hungarian master Géza
Maróczy, who was then visiting the United States. At this party the demise of Venezuelan
Enrique M. Muñoz was announced, he had been editor of Brooklyn Chess Chronicle. These
invitations indicate that, from the very first moment, Capablanca’s personality and skill
charmed many people in New York. On January 8, 1905, less than half a year after his arrival
in New York, in the “News and Gossip of the Chess Players” section of the Brooklyn Daily
Eagle, Hermann Helms introduced his readers to the exotic name of Capablanca:
A new and decidedly interesting figure in American chess is young José Raúl Capablanca, of
Havana, Cuba, sixteen years of age, and already an accomplished expert, far above the average of
well-equipped amateurs. This youthful prodigy was first heard of through A. Ettlinger53 of the
Manhattan Chess Club, whose frequent visits to the new republic brought this genius to light.
He is now in America attending the Woodycliff School at South Orange, N.J., where he pro-
poses to finish his education, [and to] prepare for Columbia College.… In a game with Joseph D.
Redding, the lawyer, Capablanca scored a neat victory in a game lasting twenty-nine moves.
After resigning, Mr. Redding, to test the lad’s resources, asked him as to what he would have
done at that point had he continued capturing the rook offered him. Without hesitation Capa-
blanca replied: “I would have mated you in ten moves,” and proceeded to demonstrate offhand
the method of procedure.…
The game Helms was referring to is the following:
Capablanca–Joseph D. Redding [C43]

Casual Game, New York, 5 January 1905
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. d4 N×e4 4. Bd3 d5 5. B×e4 Nowadays the normal move is
5. N×e5. 5. ... d×e4 6. N×e5 Bd6 7. Qe2 B×e5 8. d×e5 Bf5 9. Nc3 0–0 10. N×e4 Nc6
Better is ... Qd5 and if 11. Ng3 Q×g2 12. Bg5 Qd5 Black has a little advantage. 11. 0–0 Re8
Or 11. ... Qd5 12. Nc3 Q×e5 13. Q×e5 N×e5 14. Bf4 with an even game. 12. f4 Nd4 13. Qd3
N×c2 14. Q×c2 Qd4+ 15. Qf2 Q×e4 16. Be3 Re6 Black decides to play for the attack, but
better is 16. ... Rad8 17. Rac1 Rd7 18. Rfd1 R×d1+ 19. R×d1 f6 with an even game. 17. Rac1
Rg6 18. Rfd1 h5 The last chance to play for equality was 18. ... Bh3 19. g3 Rc6 20. R×c6
Q×c6. 19. R×c7 Bh3 20. g3 Black gave a pawn for the attack, but there is no real compen-
sation and White has an advantage. 20. ... h4 21. b3! With the idea of bringing the rook to
c4 to expel the Black queen. 21. ... h×g3 22. h×g3 Rh6 23. Rd4 Qh7 Insisting on the attack,
but better is 23. ... Qb1+ 24. Rc1 Qf5. 24. Qc2 Stronger was 24. f5! Rh5 25. e6! f×e6 26. f6
winning. 24. … g6 Burning the ships. There was still time to try 24. ... Q×c2 25. R×c2 Bf5
26. Rc7 b5 and to search for salvation in an ending with opposite colored bishops. 25. Rd6
Bf5 26. Qg2 Bh3 27. Q×b7 Re8 Capablanca now ends the game with a little combination
(see diagram)
28. e6! B×e6 29. R×e6! Black resigned. If 29. ... R×e6
wDwDrDkD 30. Qa8+ Kg7 31. Bd4+ Rf6 32. B×f6+ K×f6 33. Qd8+ Ke6
0Q$wDpDq 34. Qe8+ Kf5 35. Rc5+ Kg4 36. Qe2+ K×g3 37. Qe3+ Kh4
wDw$wDp4 38. Rg5 Rh5 39. Qg3 mate. 1–0.
DwDw)wDw
wDwDw)wD Thanks to this capital piece of information provided by
DPDwGw)b Helms, it is known that the institution where the young man was
PDwDwDwD studying was Woodycliff College in South Orange, New Jersey,
DwDwDwIw a school that later vanished without a trace, and about which
After 27. … Re8 even such a tenacious researcher as Edward Winter could not
unearth any records. In contrast, Winter found that another per-
son mentioned in the article, Dr. William Julius Eckoff, was a renowned educator and author,
who even had a biographical notice in Who Was Who in America, 1897–1942.54 The Brooklyn
Daily Eagle piece achieved a certain amount of circulation because it was fully reproduced
in the January 15 edition of the New Orleans Times-Democrat, and partially reproduced,
with light changes, on February 15 in Lasker’s Chess Magazine, as well as the May issue of
the New York Athletic Club magazine.
Helms published in the May edition of the American Chess Bulletin one of the games
of the 1901 Capablanca–Corzo match. But before that, in a special number entirely dedicated
to the endless analysis of the Rice Gambit, a picture of Capablanca appeared for the first
time in the American press, together with his variation about the gambit. The May number
added the name of various rivals Capablanca had defeated in individual games at the Man-
hattan Chess Club, such as “J.D. Redding, A. Ettlinger, E. Delmar, Dr. Isaacson, W.M. de
Visser, and J.S. Jones.” His victory over Redding transcended the American shores and was
published in the second volume of Bachmann’s Schachjahrbuch, 1905, according to a letter
from Dale Brandreth to Edward Winter, quoted by the latter in his Chess Facts and Fables.
Most probably Capablanca’s name appeared for the first time in the American press on
April 26, 1903, when the New York Times mentioned him as one of the members of the
Havana Chess Club team that faced the Manhattan Chess Club during that year’s “Cable
Match.” But even before, in November of 1901, the British Chess Magazine had mentioned
the “child prodigy Capablanca” in an article about the Havana Chess Club. Another detail
still in shadow is the date of Lasker and Capablanca’s first meeting, if it indeed did not occur
at Rice’s residence in October of 1904. What the Cuban champion remembered as their
first meeting he wrote in Windsor Magazine (December 1922):
One evening in 1906 or 1907—I have forgotten the exact date [italics added]—while I was visit-
ing the Manhattan Chess Club in New York, an acquaintance of mine came in and invited me to
go downtown to the East side to witness a simultaneous blindfold exhibition by one of the many
second- or third-rate so-called “masters” residing in New York. The single player of the occasion
was an excellent blindfold performer when pitted against only six or eight players. When we
arrived, the affair was in its most interesting phase. We were taken to a corner of the room,
where a short, middle-aged man, with a rather large head, sat in front of a board discussing one
of the games in progress. I did not know anybody, and nobody knew me as we silently sat down
to watch the proceedings. The short man was heard with evident respect by those around the
table. Looking on with intense interest, I was surprised to see the others acquiesce in moves and
explanations which were somewhat beyond me. My youthful conceit made me think that what I
heard was absurd, and that the little man was not much of a player. On one or two instances I
was on the point of interfering to contradict the much-respected personage. Luckily my old
habit of watching, without saying a word, saved me from a most humiliating experience, as a few
minutes later I was introduced to the little man, who was no less a person than the great Dr. E.
Lasker, the then world’s champion. Never in my life have I been so thankful for keeping my own
counsel. The fact was that the great player looked upon the position from a different point of
view to that of the common good ordinary player I was then, and a far higher one, and, with his
profound knowledge and instinct, discarded as worthless many lines of play which I considered
important.
The year 1907 has to be ruled out because in 1906 Capablanca and Lasker had already
met on one or more occasions. The most remarkable of these encounters took place April
6, 1906, at the inauguration banquet of the Rice Chess Club. The cream of New York chess
was there, including Lasker and Maróczy, who had both signed a contract for the world chess
championship. The April 1906 edition of American Chess Bulletin explained that before the
dinner two teams of “allies” were formed for an informal game that was to make obligatory
use of the Rice Gambit. On the side of the White pieces was a formidable quartet made up
of Lasker, Frank J. Marshall, Rice and H.M. Phillips; on the other side, William Napier,
Capablanca, Otto Roething and James Hanham. The improvised game for the fun of the
assistants soon ended in a draw, so this unusual skirmish did not make it to the pages of
chess magazines. What cannot be ignored is that, even in an informal game, the hosts wanted
to make Lasker and Capablanca face each other.
Therefore, the first contact between Capablanca and Lasker about which the Cuban
player wrote in Windsor Magazine should have occurred either at the end of 1904 or beginning
of 1905. The news of a blindfold simultaneous exhibition published December 11, 1904, in
the Brooklyn Daily Eagle contained very similar information as to what Capablanca mentioned
in his account: Julius Finn, the only player who habitually offered small blind simultaneous
exhibitions in Manhattan and Brooklyn, was in charge of it, although the real number of
players was nine (in four consultation games) and not six, as Capablanca wrote. His charac-
terization of Finn as one of the so-called masters who lived in New York shows a certain tinge
of irony, but reflects the real might of Finn, an amateur player who was part of the regulars
at the Manhattan Chess Club and the Rice Chess Club.
If the surmise that this is the historic blind simultaneous game where both chess legends
met for the first time in December 1904 is accurate, it is still not certain whether it took
place in Brooklyn, at the Lyceum Chess Club, or more likely the “East Side” of Manhattan
as Capablanca wrote in his account for Windsor Magazine. And since Finn did a similar
exhibition in December of 1905, this one against six rivals, neither date can be completely
ruled out. From the moment Capablanca and Lasker met, they initiated a friendly relation
(although not one devoid of rivalry) that lasted until Capablanca first challenged him for
the world championship after the 1911 tournament at San Sebastián. During Capablanca’s
first months in New York, Lasker did not pay (in writing) much attention to the Cuban
youngster, except for the partial reproduction in his magazine of what the Brooklyn Daily
Eagle had published in January of 1905 about him, as well as a short humorous note in that
year’s March issue, where he announced that a rival had finally been found that could take
on the fearful Cuban player: “A rival to young Capablanca has been found in Mr. T. Win-
ter-Wood, who presided at a meeting of the Torquay Chess Club, recently, who it is stated,
‘is 80 years of age, and has played chess for more than 80 years, and is still an extremely tough
customer to deal with.’”
A story told by Capablanca in Windsor Magazine about when Lasker invited him to
analyze a position about which a precise judgment had not been made, gives evidence that
in truth the world champion was more than a little curious about the real talent of the Cuban
youth, and that he did not have at the time a fully formed opinion of him. Hence, his laconic
answers to Corzo, during his February 1906 visit to Havana: “He [Capablanca] is already a
strong player, and who knows how far he will go,” a response which Corzo found reticent
and a tad cold. However, the fact remains that the world chess champion was interested in
forming a more definitive opinion of the much-praised “prodigy.” What follows is Capa-
blanca’s picturesque account of when Lasker invited him to analyze a position:
A couple of years later I had the most extraordinary experience of my chess life. I was then at
Columbia University, but visited frequently the Manhattan Chess Club. Dr. Lasker lived then in
New York. One night, when I was in the club, he came in. I was by this time recognized as the
strongest player in the club. Dr. Lasker paid me the compliment of asking me to look over with
him a certain position which had puzzled him considerably and about which he had not quite
made up his mind. As we sat down some of the strong players of the club came over to watch,
and incidentally to offer suggestions, but naturally with the respect due to the presence of the
then world’s champion. We had been there for about half an hour without having arrived at any
definite conclusion, when a well-dressed young man walked in, said “Good evening,” sat next to
Dr. Lasker, and inquired as to the nature of the matter under consideration. Immediately after he
was told he proceeded to treat Dr. Lasker’s suggestions in a rather cavalier manner, and under-
took to show us that we did not know what we were after. I looked at him in amazement, but,
seeing his unconcerned expression and the apparent familiarity with which he treated Dr.
Lasker, I concluded he was a close friend of the champion, and consequently I said nothing. It
did not take long for Dr. Lasker to show the young man how little he really did know about the
matter under consideration. The young man soon got up, said “Good night,” and left. I could
restrain myself no longer, and therefore asked Dr. Lasker who his friend was. His answer was
that he had never seen the young man before, and that he had thought all the time that the
young man was a close friend of mine—a truly astonishing situation. We had both treated the
young man with a great deal of consideration because we each thought that he was the other’s
intimate friend, when, as a matter of fact, neither one of us had ever seen him before.
The newspaper stories introducing Capablanca to the world of American chess, and
even his stories and memories of the years 1905–1907, reveal that his name was becoming
well-known at the sanctuaries of Caissa; however, his mission in the United States was not
to follow his love of chess, but instead to become an engineer. Because of the few years he
stayed at school, details about that side of his life are few and far between. The most mys-
terious are his first days at Woodycliff College, since no references to this institution have
ever been found other than those mentioned by Helms in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle of January
8, 1905, about its being located in the town of South Orange, New Jersey.
In September 1906, in Capablanca’s official file at Columbia University,55 his personal
address appears as 228 West 72nd Street, which is the address of Graff College; the person
in charge of him was M.E. Rionda, of 112 Wall Street, who most probably had been com-
missioned by Pelayo for the task. The Riondas were one of Cuba’s wealthiest families, related
to the Torrientes; a Rionda was married to a son of Cosme de la Torriente. Rionda’s Wall
Street address was of course an office, not his family home. His Columbia University file
mentions as “previous education” the Graff School, where Capablanca prepared for the
entrance exams. A letter from Capablanca to his mother in April 1906 (extensively quoted
further down) mentions it as the place where he wrote it. It is fair to assume that Capablanca
spent at least a year there taking his preparatory courses, from September 1905 to September
1906.
In the faculty and student directory at Columbia University—not to be confused with
his official academic file—Capablanca’s name appeared for the first time in the 1906-1907
school year on October 26, 1906, a date confirmed in his student file, which mentions as
admission date September 1906. For the 1907-1908 school year the same elements reappear:
he was a student at the School of Mines and Engineering, with the difference that the Hartley
Building, one of the dormitories on campus, is now listed at his personal address. His aca-
demic report card is divided in two, because he only finished his admission course and his
junior year in the program, which was not chemical engineering but mechanical engineering,
although Capablanca affirmed it in My Chess Career. Many years later, in a 1932 interview
for the Madrid ABC newspaper, in its May 12 edition, Capablanca rectified the detail and
clarified that he had registered in the mechanical engineering program, although as always
he muddled things a little by adding “and later chemical.”
The considerable stress in mechanical engineering subjects during the last two years of
the curriculum leaves no doubt about it—and there is the fact that his student file bears the
letterhead “Mechanical Engineering.” Another important piece of information (so the matter
can be settled) is that in the fourth year of that course of study the whole curriculum consisted
of metallurgy, electrical engineering and mechanical engineering, without a single mention
of chemistry, which was taken only upon reaching the second year of the program. The first
part of his student file contains the group of subjects he had to finish in order to be admitted,
results that show his proficiency in math as well as serious problems with the English lan-
guage, which he was still struggling with. Capablanca later wrote that he had received an
“outstanding” mark in his algebra admission exam, and that he had finished it in half the
required time; the professor, mistakenly believing that he was withdrawing, told him to
make an effort and not to give up. In his entrance examinations for Columbia University,
Capablanca passed all science and math subjects: algebra, plane geometry, solid geometry,
trigonometry, theoretical chemistry, experimental theory, theoretical physics, and experi-
mental physics.
During the first year at Columbia the only science subject he failed was industrial tech-
nical drawing. He also failed English (which he later passed in his second attempt), history
of the United States, and history of English culture, with grades well under the minimum
required, proof that the course, or courses, taken at Woodycliff College were not sufficiently
rigorous so that within a few months he could properly understand the subtleties of the
English language at such a high level. His student association card shows his address in Cuba
as 512 17th Street in El Vedado, Havana, the same place where his parents resided until the
end of their lives. In the same 1908-1909 directory (page 26), next to his name was the letter
“s” in lowercase—a code for the School of Mines, Engineering and Chemistry—together
with the Roman numeral II, which indicates a sophomore student, with the Hartley dorm
address, although he never started his second year, and his student file (not the student reg-
istry) is empty.
There are two different versions about Capablanca’s stay at Columbia University, both
by former classmates of his. The first is by Louis Jacob Wolff, who was also with him on the
chess team of the institution, and it appeared as a supplement to the Cuban champion’s
biographical data in The Oxford Companion to Chess:
Capablanca was studying engineering, which he found onerous, especially disliking draughts-
manship, because the drawing which had to be prepared so carefully would have no use after the
machines had been made from them; whatever end he sought he found the mean tedious, and
often skimped them: in short, he was lazy. A chess-playing classmate, Louis Jacob Wolff (1886–
1985), remarked that Capablanca never “learnt to learn”; even at chess he wanted only to play, and
never studied books on the game [Hooper and Whyld, The Oxford Companion to Chess, page 67].
The other account is in a letter sent by Bernard Epstein in 1944 to Olga Capablanca,
of which she sent a transcription to Mario Figueredo in Cuba.56 As inferred from Bernstein’s
explanation, it was the impossibility of paying his tuition and housing costs that forced
Capablanca to leave the university, for he even had to sell his clothes in an attempt to cover
his debts. At the time, Columbia University tuition was $600, which did not include housing,
food, books and other expenses such as proper clothing. To make things worse, Columbia
had set at the time a system for encouraging good students by offering them discounted
tuition costs, the downside of which was that students with lower grades had to pay more.
Despite these hurdles, Capablanca remained hopeful that he could resume his studies,
as shown by his statements to the British newspaper The Evening News, November 17, 1911:
“I have not decided whether I shall take up chess altogether as a profession. I may finish my
engineering studies. But in any case, I shall compete again in the San Sebastián tournament
in February.” In any event, 1906 was for him, despite his frequent presence at New York
chess clubs, and especially at the Manhattan Chess Club, a year of success in his academic
efforts, since he was able to pass his entrance exams for the university. On January 11, 1906,
Capablanca offered at the Manhattan Chess Club his first simultaneous games in the United
States against 19 adversaries, with a result of 16 wins, 2 defeats and 1 draw in a time frame
of 2 hours 45 minutes.
He faced more serious troubles, however, outside of the chessboard. His differences
with Pelayo started following an article published by Juan Corzo in El Diario de la Marina
on April 7, 1906 (where the aforementioned account of the Cuban player’s first visit to the
Manhattan Chess Club first appeared). Corzo added:
Afterwards he [Capablanca] has continued frequenting the club, albeit only on Sundays—for his
father, careful and prudent, does not want him to devote to chess any time other than his leisure
moments. Even so, as we have learned through Lasker, he is now a strong player, and the princi-
pals of the Manhattan Chess Club must consider him very strong indeed when they have chosen
him to give sessions of simultaneous exhibitions in the halls of that association, sharing such a
task with Lasker himself and the brilliant American champion Frank J. Marshall.…
This article caused true dismay to his parents, and Matilde wrote him immediately a
letter in terms that prompted young José Raúl to send her a response that showed him truly
worried.
Graff School, 228 W. 72 St.
April 22 1906
Dear Mom:
Three or four days ago I received your letter of the 13th of this month.
Now I can see what has been published in Diario de la Marina. You or rather, Dad, can tell
Don Ramón [Pelayo] that three-quarters of the article is lies, and that while it is true that I
played a simultaneous exhibition and that the result was as the newspaper says, that was during
the December vacation when I had nothing to do and no studying; as regards having had myself
selected to play various simultaneous exhibitions, none of that is true; it is correct that various
club presidents have asked me to give simultaneous exhibitions, and they even want to pay me
for them, but I always said that I could not do so. This is the pure truth, and if you wish you may
show Don Ramón this letter.
Regarding the reports about me to Don Ramón, you can be sure that they are favorable,
because the other day here the Director read out the results of the best pupils and said that I was
the best, and by a long way, that although I had nine courses, six of which were very difficult, I
scored 85¾%, while the next one after me scored only 81%, and did not have as many courses, or
as difficult, as I did. So you can see that you have nothing to worry about on that matter.
Tell Nene that if possible he should be sure to send me a couple of cocos [pesos, same value in
dollars] as that would be very helpful because I run out of money.
Goodbye; regards to everyone, hugs to the girls, and to you and Dad an affectionate hug from
your son, who never forgets you.
J. Raul.57
It is indeed a letter from someone in great distress, but it also shows that the money Pelayo
was sending him was either insufficient or poorly managed, because Capablanca in it was asking
his younger brother Ramiro, whom he called el nene (“the babe”), to lend him un par de cocos,
Cuban slang for “a couple of bucks.” Since late 1905, when Capablanca was not yet a student
at Columbia University, he was being invited to arbitrate several university chess competitions,
a very unusual responsibility for someone his age. An example appeared in the Brooklyn Daily
Eagle, December 24, 1905, showing that A.W. Fox and H. Helms, main judges, had chosen
him as assistant for the Fourth Inter University Championship, which included Columbia,
wDwDw1wD
DpDw4wDw
pDwDbDkH
Dw$p!p)p
wDw)pDw)
DwDw)wDw
PDwDwDKD
DwDwDwDw
A worried young Capablanca’s letter to his mother on April 22, 1906, about his visits to the Man-
hattan Chess Club. Capablanca explains that they were in the midst of the Christmas holidays
(courtesy of Mercedes Capablanca, who owns the original).
Yale, Princeton, and Harvard. Upon interruption of the game between Jameson (Yale), White,
and William (Princeton), Black, it was left to the arbiters to decide the outcome.
Helms wrote that the game was ruled in favor of White because the analysis evidenced
that: “It is White’s turn to move and he forces the win by playing Kg3. Later he advances
the queen’s rook pawn to a4, which Black cannot hinder, and it will be found that White
wins prettily in all variations.” This game, which was not even his, shows possibly the first
example of a typical Capablanca argument, in which he studies a position as an abstract case
without the inclusion of specific variations. This method can later be found in his commen-
taries, of which the most famous perhaps are the ones he made of his wins against Aron
Nimzowitsch in St. Petersburg (1914) and against Alexander Alekhine in Nottingham (1936).
Another occasion in which Capablanca served as arbiter was the annual match between
Yale and Princeton on March 3, 1906, at Professor Rice’s residence, reviewed in March 1906
by the American Chess Bulletin. Here Capablanca was featured in another photograph sitting
on the far left beside the players of both universities. This time he was given two games to
judge, and in both cases he decided in favor of the Princeton players. Unfortunately, no
record was left of his verdict.
In 1906, Capablanca did not play in any individual competition, but several of his
games have survived that have invariably found a place in the most important anthologies
of his encounters. His games at that time are characterized by the preeminence of attacks at
any cost:
Robert Raubitschek–Capablanca [C38]

Casual Game, New York, 24 September 1906
1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 g5 4. Bc4 Bg7 5. h4 h6 6. d4 Nc6 7. c3 d6 8. 0–0 Qe7 The
modern approach is 8. ... g4 9. Ne1 Q×h4 10. B×f4 Nf6 11. e5 d×e5 12. d×e5 g3 13. B×g3
Q×g3 14. e×f6 Bf8 15. Nd3 Bd6 with an even game. Nakamura–Ivanchuk, Cap d’Agde 2010.
9. Qb3 Nd8 N. Glazkov recommends 9. ... Nf6! with a clear advantage for Black. 10. h×g5
h×g5 11. Qb5+ Bd7 12. Q×g5 Bf6 13. Q×f4 Ne6 14. B×e6
Another possibility is 14. Qe3 Bg7 15. e5 Bh6 16. Qe1 0–0–0 wDk4wDwD
17. Nbd2 with a little advantage for White. 14. ... B×e6 15. e5 0p0w1pDw
d×e5 16. N×e5 Also possible is 16. d×e5 Bg7 17. Qa4+ Qd7 wDwDb!wD
18. Q×d7+ K×d7 with an even game. 16. ... 0–0–0 17. Na3 Rh4 DwDwDwDw
18. Qg3 B×e5 19. Q×e5 Rd5 20. Qg7 Rg4 21. Qh7 Nf6 wDw)wDrD
22. Qh8+ Rd8! 23. Q×f6 (see diagram) Hw)wDwDw
23. ... Rdg8! 24. Rf2 If 24. Q×e7 R×g2+ 25. Kh1 Bd5 and P)wDwDPD
mate. If 24. Qf2 Qd7! 24. ... R×g2+ 25. Kf 1 Bc4+ 26. N×c4 $wGwDRIw
Rg1 and mate in a few moves. 0–1. After 23. Q×f6
The next day, Capablanca’s juvenile anxiety could be detected in another game against
Raubitschek. He firmly intended to slaughter his rival once again without taking into con-
sideration the truth of the position, something Capablanca would criticize in the future: “In
the middle-game, the main thing is the co-ordination of pieces and this is where most players
are weak. Many try to attack with one piece here and another there without any concerted
action, and later they wonder what is wrong with the game” (My Chess Career, England:
Harding Simpole, 2003, page 209).
Capablanca–Robert Raubitschek [C67]

Casual Game, New York, 25 September 1906
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 N×e4 5. d4 d5 This is considered a mistake.
Better are 5. ... Be7 or 5. ... Nd6. 6. N×e5 Bd7 7. N×d7 White can play 7. N×f7! K×f7
8. Qh5+ g6 9. Q×d5+ Kg7 10. Q×e4 with an advantage. 7. ... Q×d7 8. Nc3 f5 Better is 8. ...
N×c3 9. b×c3 Be7 10. Re1 0–0 with only a little advantage for White. 9. N×e4 f×e4 10. c4
0–0–0 11. Bg5 Be7 12. B×e7 Q×e7 13. B×c6 b×c6 14. c5 Better seems 14. Qa4 Kb7
15. Rac1 with White advantage. 14. ... Qf6 15. Qa4 Kb8 16. Rac1 Ka8 17. b4 Better is
17. f3. 17. ... Rb8 18. a3 Rhe8 19. Qa6 Re6 20. a4 Playing for the attack with a dubious pawn
sacrifice. Better is 20. Rcd1. 20. ... Q×d4 21. b5 Qf6 Better is 21. ... e3 22. f×e3 Qd2 23. Rfd1
Q×e3+ 24. Kh1 c×b5 with advantage for Black. 22. Rc2 c×b5 23. c6 b4 24. Rc5 Qd4?
Better is 24. ... b3 25. Ra5 Qd4 26. Rb5 Ree8 27. Rb7 e3 with a winning position. 25. Rb5
Ree8 26. Rb7 Qc5 Better is 26. … e3! winning (see diagram)
Or 26. ... Rf8 27. R×c7 Qb6 28. Q×b6 R×b6 29. Rb1 Rf6
k4wDrDwD with Black advantage. 27. h3! The beginning of an interesting
0R0wDw0p tactical idea trying to eliminate all the troubles that have arisen.
QDPDwDwD 27. ... d4 28. Kh2! d3 29. Rc1! Q×f2 Losing his last chance with:
Dw1pDwDw 29. ... Qd4 30. Rc4 Q×f2 31. Rc×b4 Rbd8 32. R7b5 Qf4+
P0wDpDwD 33. Kh1 Qf1+ 34. Kh2 Qf4+ and draws. 30. Rf 1! Qd4 30. ...
DwDwDwDw Qe3 31. Rf5 Rbc8 32. R×b4 Rb8 33. Rb7 Rbc8 34. a5 Qd4 has
wDwDw)P) been recommended but White can force a mate after 35. Rb1
DwDwDRIw
Rb8 36. Rfb5 Qd6+ 37. Kh1 Qf8 38. Rb7 Qf2 39. R×b8+ R×b8
After 26. … Qc5 40. R×b8+ K×b8 41. Qb7. 31. Rf5! e3 32. R×a7+! Q×a7
33. Ra5 Q×a6 34. R×a6 mate. 1–0.
When in late 1906 the annual championship by teams was held among the main uni-
versities of the East Coast, Columbia University easily emerged as the favorite since it
counted in its ranks for the first and only time the “boy prodigy.” The University achieved
this time an impressive victory with 111⁄2 points of 12. The American Chess Bulletin published
in full the results of the competition and also included a full-page photograph of Capablanca
playing against G.A. Brackett of Harvard.58 Though Capablanca won all his games at that
competition, 3 of 3, it was observed that he was always rushed to do his moves, since this
was actually his first experience playing with a clock in formal games with long, controlled
periods of time. Until then, his experience was limited to games with 5, 10 or 20 seconds
per move, apart from the 1901 series in Havana, which, as it has already been remarked, he
played at a dizzying pace. Such hurry could have cost him dearly, especially in his game
against W.M. Ward of Princeton:
Capablanca–W. M. Ward [B45]

Inter-Universities Games, Columbia–Princeton,
New York, 22 December 1906
1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 c×d4 4. N×d4 e6 5. Be3 Nf6 6. Nc3 Be7 7. Bd3 0–0 7. ...
d6. 8. 0–0 N×d4 8. ... d6 9. B×d4 a6 10. e5 Ne8 11. f4 f5 12. Rf3 “The entire plan of attack,
which has all the earmarks of great haste, cannot be recommended” (Hermann Helms). Better
is 12. Qf3 d6 13. Qe3 d×e5 14. B×e5 with White advantage. 12. ... b5 13. Rh3 g6 14. g4
Bb7 15. g×f5 e×f5 16. Qe1 A better option is 16. a4 and if 16. ... b4 17. Bc4+ Kh8 18. Nd5
with advantage for White. Now Black is better. 16. ... Ng7 17. Qg3 Ne6 18. Be3 Rf7 19. Kf2
Qc7 20. Rg1 Raf8 21. Ne2 Rg7 22. Nd4 Be4 23. N×e6 d×e6 24. Bd4 B×d3 25. Q×d3
Rd8 26. c3 Bc5 27. Qd2 Rgd7 28. Rd3 Qb6 29. Rd1 a5 (see diagram)
30. B×c5 R×d3 31. Qe3 R×d1 32. B×b6 R8d2+ 33. Kf3
Rd3 34. B×a5 R×e3+ 35. K×e3 Ra1 36. a3 Ra2 37. b4 R×a3 wDw4wDkD
38. Kd4 Ra2 Black could win by 38. ... g5 39. f×g5 f4 39. h4 Kg7 DwDrDwDp
40. Bd8? This should lose the bishop. 40. Kc5 would be correct. w1wDpDpD
40. ... Ra1? 40. ... Rd2+ 41. Kc5 Rc1 42. K×b5 R×c3 43. Kb6 0pgw)pDw
Rc4 44. b5 R×f4 45. Kc5 Rf2 46. b6 Kf7 47. b7 Rc2+ 48. Kd6 wDwGw)wD
Rd2+ 49. Kc7 Rc2+ 50. Kd7 Rb2 51. Kc8 Ke8 Advancing the Dw)RDwDw
passed pawn would draw: 51. ... f4 52. b8=Q R×b8+ 53. K×b8 P)w!wIw)
f3 54. Bb6 h5 55. Bf2 g5. 52. Bc7 h6 53. b8=Q R×b8+ 54. B×b8
DwDRDwDw
g5 55. h×g5 h×g5 56. Bc7 f4 57. Bd8 g4 58. Bg5 f3 59. Bh4 After 29. … a5
Kf7 60. Kd7 Kg6 61. K×e6 Kh5 62. Bg3 Kg5 63. Kd5 Kf5
64. e6 Black resigned. 1–0.
In My Chess Career, page 25, Capablanca wrote:

In closing this period and looking back upon my style of play I find a great deal of improvement
in every respect. The openings begin to resemble more those of a master, though generally they
were much weaker than they should be, as there is too much slow-moving, elaborate planning
which cannot be carried out against strong opponents, instead of the simple, forward, strong
attacking moves which should characterize White’s development. The middle game has
advanced enormously, the combinations are surer and more profound, and are beginning to
loom forward the playing for position. The endings I already played very well, and to my mind,
had attained the high standards for which they were in the future to be well known.
In chess, as in life, Capablanca moved away from the innocence of youth. Many surprises
would await him over the next few years, in which for the first time he would have to do
things by himself, a clear signal that adulthood had arrived.
4. Champion of the Americas
Everywhere he went, precocious talents seemed to get in the way of the American master
Frank J. Marshall.
When in 1908, before the start of the tournament in the German city of Düsseldorf,
Marshall wanted to entertain himself and practice against a slender and nervous schoolboy,
who was not even a participant in the Master Group, the 15-year-old unknown freshman
defeated him so convincingly that stunned witnesses
thought the young man could give him the advantage
of pawn and move to level the field. The Russian fair-
haired student emphasized that his name should be pro-
nounced al-Yeh-khin, and was offended if it was not said
correctly, although he himself wrote it subsequently in
many other versions: Aljechin, Alechin, Alekhine or
Alekhin.1
And when after 20 months in Europe, Marshall
returned to New York on January 8, 1909, aboard the
steamship Batavia, he found that despite his successful
record, the name in vogue in his own country was not his,
but Capablanca’s. And next to that somewhat exotic sur-
name appeared the word “prodigy,” something incompre-
hensible to him because the alleged wonder was not even
close to showing something to support the lavish praise.
Marshall had the bad luck that his professional career coin-
cided with the emergence of two major chess figures:
Alexander Alekhine and José Raúl Capablanca, whose
names, along with Emanuel Lasker’s, would flood the his-
tory of the game for the next few decades.
For Marshall the surge of Capablanca went beyond
any wounded pride, because it touched the sensitive point
of his income. There would now be a new competitor for
the limited money assigned to clubs and associations to
A very young and slim Capablanca with his inseparable port-

manteau, when he returned to Havana in 1909, after his vic-
tory against Marshall (author’s collection).
104
attract masters for exhibitions. And this hap-

pened just when the road seemed to be cleared
after Emanuel Lasker’s return to Europe. On
January 20, 1909, Marshall sent a letter to The
Chess Weekly magazine2 (a newly released pub-
lication intended to fill the void left by the
disappearance of Lasker’s Chess Magazine),
in which he confessed that since his expendi-
tures in the European tour were more than
expected, he could not take a break in his activ-
ities. In his typical unpretentious style, Mar-
shall wrote that he was prepared to receive
challenges from anyone who wanted to play
against him for “a bet of $600 or a purse of
$300.”3
But the other chess magazine of New
York of those years, the American Chess Bul-
letin, in its issue of February 9, 1909, added a
phrase: the American master would accept any
challenge, “Capablanca preferred.” This was Capablanca prepared his presentations very
carefully. This is one of the pictures he used
not true, and Marshall requested a correction. for his advertising booklets and to sell to his
The rectification was made almost immedi- admirers (courtesy of Mercedes Capablanca).
ately, on February 13 in The Chess Weekly:
“The American Chess Bulletin for February 9 states that F.J. Marshall has backing in the
sum of $600, for a set match with any player in this country, Mr. J.R. Capablanca preferred.
Mr. Marshall requests us to say that he has no preference whatever in the matter. He is ready
to meet anyone on the principle of first come, first served.” Capablanca’s name was rescued
from oblivion by the December 1908 issue of the American Chess Bulletin, where in addition
to a photo of the Cuban at the beginning of the magazine, it also published prominently
the news that a new matador was ready to jump into the arena:
TOUR OF JOSE R. CAPABLANCA

The Bulletin is able to announce this month that it has been authorized by Mr. José R. Capa-
blanca, of New York, and former chess champion of Cuba, to arrange for him a comprehensive
tour of the United States, Canada, Mexico and Panama, and to this end he is now ready to fill
any and all engagements we may be able to book.4
Little was known then about the Cuban, except his usual presence at the Manhattan Chess
Club, where he enjoyed a huge reputation in offhand games and blitz tournaments. Although
he was usually identified by the Lasker’s Chess Magazine as “the young prodigy,” the publication
did not say much more about him, except some paragraphs taken almost word-for-word from
the initial report that Helms made some years before about the Cuban in the Brooklyn Daily
Eagle, already quoted in Chapter 3 of this book. On other occasions, when his name appeared
in Lasker’s Chess Magazine, it was spelled incorrectly. A potentially humiliating mistake
occurred in the issue of February 1908, when announcing the cancellation of a match between
Julius Finn and the Cuban, his name appeared as “Papablanca” (white potato), which could
be interpreted as a mockery, because in some dialects of the Spanish language the adjective
or nickname “Papa” (potato) applies to rivals considered very easy to beat.
It is impossible to know about Capablanca’s reaction because he did not issue any com-
mentary regarding this. It’s hard to imagine that Lasker’s magazine, so respected for its high
intellectual standard, lowered its level to this kind of personal attack, like the ones in the
days of the bitter and prolonged dispute between Steinitz and the Hungarian Leopold Hoffer.
But these examples could serve at least to see that spelling mistakes are not the exclusive
province of current journalists or writers.5 On at least one more occasion Lasker’s Chess Mag-
azine (March 1909, page 202), when giving the names of the winners of a rapid transit tour-
nament played in the Manhattan Chess Club, wrote his surname wrong: “Casablanca,” like
the Moroccan (even one Cuban) town.
Correctly or poorly written, the vast majority of the times during these two years when
the name of the Cuban was mentioned in magazines were on the occasion of his triumphs
in blitz tournaments, as the American Chess Bulletin pointed out: “As an accomplished expo-
nent of rapid transit chess Capablanca can point to a success quite as noteworthy. All told,
the youngest master participated in nine of the Manhattan Chess Club’s knockout tourna-
ments under a time limit of twenty seconds to a move, winning six of them. In one of these
events Dr. Emanuel Lasker had to content himself with second place.”
Helms failed to put together Capablanca’s name with his victories over first-rank players,
except for the previous mention of his triumph in a blitz tournament in which Lasker also
competed. But perhaps Helms omitted mentioning that the world champion could have
been the winner in other events of the same kind. In conclusion, Capablanca’s résumé hardly
seemed sufficient to make the managements of chess clubs spend their money, but they were
aware of the feast of the young Cuban in New York and their response to Helms’s call was over-
whelming.
Very few of Capablanca’s victories in blitz games in 1908 and 1909 have survived. Here
are two of them, the first on March 5, 1908, in a 10-seconds-per-move tournament:
Capablanca–Louis B. Meyer [C77]

Blitz Game, New York, 5 March 1908
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. d4 N×e4 6. d5
rDw1kgw4 Nowadays it is considered there is an advantage for White after
Db0php0p 6. Qe2 f5 7. d5 Na7 8. N×e5 Qf6 9. Nd3 Be7 10. Nd2. 6. … Ne7
pDwDwDwD 7. N×e5 b5 8. Bb3 Bb7 (see diagram)
DpDPHwDw Now Capablanca played the surprising 9. d6. As a matter
wDwDnDwD of fact, better is 9. 0–0 d6 10. Nf3 Nc5 11. Re1 Qd7 12. c4 0–
DBDwDwDw 0–0 13. Nc3. But now, after: 9. … N×d6 10. Q×d6 a stunned
P)PDw)P) Meyer resigned the game. However, he could defend with 10. …
$NGQIwDR Nd5 11. Q×d5 B×d5 12. B×d5 Qf6 13. N×f7 c6 14. Bb3 Rg8
After 8. … Bb7 15. 0–0 d5 16. Ng5 Bd6 17. c3 and the position is even.6 Black
resigned. 1–0
Another surviving example was against the Polish-Russian-Dutch-American Jacob Carl

Rosenthal, considered one of the stronger New York players in rapid transit games. Rosenthal
even finished above the Cuban in a “marathon” tournament at the Rice Chess Club. And in
another tournament, although Rosenthal did not finished first, he won his individual game
against Capablanca. This led to a match between the two of them, won closely 5–4 by the
Cuban. This “forced” a second match and the Caribbean finally beat him 5–0.7
Capablanca–Jacob C. Rosenthal [C66]

Blitz Game, New York, 31 March 1909
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 Be7 5. d3 d6 6. Re1
0–0 7. Nbd2 Bg4 8. c3 Kh8 9. Nf1 Nh5 10. h3 B×f3 11. Q×f3 rDqDw4wi
Nf6 12. g4 a6 13. Ba4 b5 14. Bc2 d5 15. Ng3 d×e4 16. d×e4 Dw0wDp0p
Qc8 17. Nf5 Bc5 (see diagram) pDnDwhwD
Black’s moves 8 and 9 were questionable, but now Black Dpgw0NDw
made a gross mistake. Capablanca takes an immediate advantage wDwDPDPD
of it. 18. N×g7 K×g7 19. Bh6+ Kg6 20. g5 Nh5 If 20. … Qe6 Dw)wDQDP
21. Bb3 winning; if 20. … Ng8 21. Qf5+ Q×f5 22. e×f5+ Kh5 P)BDw)wD
23. Bd1+ Kh4 24. Re4+ K×h3 25. Bg4+ Kh4 26. Bf3+ Kh3 $wGw$wIw
27. Bg2 mate. 21. Qf5+ Q×f5 22. e×f5 mate. 1–0 After 17. …Bc5
However, there was nothing in strong competitions that could validate Capablanca’s
mastery, except the distant echo of his victory against Corzo in 1901. To proclaim that his
fame was known all over the United States seemed quite typical of a public relations adver-
tising campaign. Occupied by his studies and also the need to support himself, Capablanca’s
chess path of in 1907 and 1908 is almost unknown. His appearances were few and his name
was out of the public arena. In 1907 American Chess Bulletin published just three of his
games: two from inter-university events, none of them showing a player with the force attrib-
uted to him. The other example, in March, against H.J. Rose in the student cable match
United States–England, was worse, because his opponent could have won easily when Capa-
blanca overlooked a queen move which could have forced him to surrender immediately.
The game finally ended in a draw, as Rose did not see the winning move either. This game
was mentioned later as another example showing that those slow cable-match competitions
bored the Cuban and did not motivate him to pay attention.
In 1908 Capablanca’s chess appearances were apparently bound to the need to both
seek a livelihood and pay the costs of his studies, following Bernard Epstein’s explanations
to Olga Capablanca already cited. Other plans which promised some income were not ful-
filled, like the aforementioned match against Julius Finn, canceled without an explanation.
Later, there was talk about a series of three games against Marshall, but the American
extended his stay in Europe by playing at the end of 1908 a triangular tournament in Łódź,
Poland, making it impossible to predict his return date to New York. Once he arrived, Felix
E. Kahn proposed another short series of exhibition games between Capablanca and Mar-
shall, but on this occasion the indisposition of the American prevented it.
Under the same reasoning it can be assumed that during the annual match between the
Manhattan Chess Club and the Franklin Chess Club of Philadelphia, played on “Decoration
Day,”8 Capablanca’s name appeared not as a player, but as the referee of the match, which
may indicate that he did it because of the economic remuneration received for the task. This
was a time when, referring to Capablanca, some newspapers and magazines often added:
“the protégé of the Manhattan Chess Club,” perhaps because the president of this institution,
Arístides Martínez, was his compatriot. But it has never been found that Capablanca and
Martínez had an especially friendly relationship. Actually, Capablanca never mentioned him
in his articles or books, and the only known personal gesture he had made towards Martínez
was in 1921, when from Havana, together with Lasker and other figures of Cuban chess, he
signed a message of congratulations to him, because that year he left the presidency of the
club after two decades. Apparently, this was due to the fact that Martínez was already very
ill, since he died the following year. In any case, it was obvious that the Manhattan Chess
Club was Capablanca’s operations hub, and Martínez helped him and invited his young
fellow countryman to some gala dinners, such as the banquet after the New York–Berlin
cable match of 1907.
Despite this poor background, Helms had no hesitation in risking his prestige to sponsor
the tour and to use his extensive relations with all the American clubs to promote it. The
announcement of the scheduled tournée placed the Cuban, at least on paper, at a level very
close to Lasker, Pillsbury, Marshall, Maróczy and the German Jacques Mieses, who had toured
regions of the United States to perform simultaneous exhibitions or to play individual games
against the strongest local experts. But no matter how hard Helms hyped the Cuban’s talent,
the truth is Capablanca’s vita lacked substance. The list exhibited in the December 1908 issue,
as an evidence of his qualities clearly showed the difference between praise and reality:
At the Manhattan Chess Club—January 11, 1906, won 16, lost 2, drew 1; 2h 45m.
March 28, 1907, won 17, lost 1, drew 2; 1h 40m.
May 9, 1907, won 22, lost 0, drew 0; 2h.
At the Franklin Chess Club, Philadelphia—January 25, 1908, won 16, lost 2, drew 1; 3h.
At the Brooklyn Chess Club—February 1, 1908, won 24, lost 1, drew 1; 3h.
Helms was smart enough to emphasize a unique Capablanca talent: “His particular forte
is an extraordinary quick sight of the board.” This was the same impression Andrés Clemente
Vázquez had in 1893, when he presented the prodigy in the pages of El Fígaro magazine; or
the conclusions of Enrique Conill, who after witnessing the same Capablanca game described
by Vázquez, said it seemed as if the boy’s calculations did not cost him any effort. Helms’s
confidence showed that rather than diminishing, the legend that had started 15 years before
in Havana had taken force. And looking ahead a bit, five decades later it remained robust,
since the mid–20th century veterans of the Manhattan Chess Club spoke about it to a young
Bobby Fischer, who remembered those conversations after another five decades:
Everyone I’ve spoken to who saw Capablanca play still speaks of him with awe. If you showed
him any position he would instantly tell you the right move.… When I used to go to the Man-
hattan Chess Club back in the fifties, I met a lot of old-timers there who knew Capablanca….
They spoke of Capablanca with awe. I have never seen people speak about any chess player like
that, before or since.9
And without regard to being the target of ridicule, Helms proclaimed that Capablanca
soon would be among the candidates for the world chess crown, even calling him the most
likely sucessor of Emanuel Lasker. In late 1908 and beginning of 1909 such praises were very
insightful. What seemed to be the last straw for the editors of The Chess Weekly, especially
Charles Nugent, who deceived Helms with the invented Marshall phrase “Capablanca pre-
ferred,” occcurred when in the December 1908 issue of the American Chess Bulletin, Helms
(or Cassel) wrote that the Cuban “has been hailed a second Paul Morphy.” Or when the
magazine compared Capablanca’s results in simultaneous exhibitions with those of Morphy.
The Chess Weekly editors rightly argued that such disproportionate praise was not mer-
ited in any way by the accomplishments of Capablanca. And although they acknowledged
it was possible that he was destined to ascend to Lasker’s throne, they added that the cold
statistics showed that he had never faced a recognized master in a match, or had triumphed
in a major tournament. “To imbue a young player with the idea that he is an exception to
the general rule is to cause him to abstain from that hard work and study which alone can
enable him to reach the rank of a chess master.” The magazine concluded with the piquant
phrase: “There are times when we have reason to fervently exclaim, ‘Save us from our
friends!’” (The Chess Weekly, January 30, 1909, page 73).
One of the American Chess Bulletin’s promotional parts (December 1908) did contain
a strong eye-catching paragraph: “Mr. Capablanca, who is recognized as one of the leading
players in America, desires to see more of his adopted country, and will not return to Cuba
[italics added].” The surprising news that he “will not return to Cuba” went beyond a simple
provisional decision to interrupt his studies, establish an economic foundation, and resume
them later. It seemed unnatural that Capablanca wished so suddenly and dramatically
not to return to the comfortable world that hitherto had nurtured him in his country of
origin.
Dr. Gelabert created a beautiful alibi to explain what happened: “By this time it was
when a sensational feat was revealed to the world of chess from the genius of the young
Capablanca. He played three games against the American master M. Eugene Delmar, giving
him pawn and move, with the incredible result of winning them all. This was the motive for
him to leave school to devote himself exclusively to chess.”10 It was actually a five-game series,
the one in which the Cuban gave Delmar the pawn and move advantage. With the title “El
Morphy Cubano,” Juan Corzo published the news in Diario de la Marina, September 27,
1908, thanks to a letter from Aristides Martínez to León Paredes, in which he reported about
Capablanca’s activities in the Manhattan Chess Club. In the chronicle, Corzo also said that
Lasker was the only one who could face the young Cuban.
But while it was a remarkable result to defeat Delmar 5–0 having given him pawn and
move, he was by then a sick man; he died on February 22, 1909. Even in the annual tourna-
ment of the Manhattan Chess Club in 1908, he retired from the competition at the request
of his doctor. However, three weeks before his death, Delmar showed that he still retained
part of his recognized ability and won a rapid transit tournament in the Manhattan Chess
Club, as it appeared in his obituary published in the April 1909 issue of the American Chess
Bulletin.
Actually, it was not that victory over Delmar that drove Capablanca to leave his studies
and devote himself to chess. Personal recollections of Capablanca’s relatives suggest that a
schism occurred not only between the young man and Ramón Pelayo, but worse, between
the patron and all of the Capablanca family, especially the patriarch. Details of what hap-
pened between José Raúl and his parents, as well as between Pelayo and José María Capa-
blanca, were jealously guarded secrets by the young man’s family. “This created for Dad a
very difficult situation with Pelayo,” was the laconic commentary of Zenaida Capablanca
regarding these facts. But her words could also be interpreted that if “Raúl,” as all the family
called her brother, promised a greater commitment to his studies, Pelayo would resume the
subsidy. But José María Capablanca no longer agreed to prolong this situation, which afflicted
him greatly and wanted his son to return to Cuba.11
And perhaps for the first and only time, a highly unusual admission by Capablanca to
journalist Abelardo Fernández Arias, in an interview published on May 12, 1932, in the
newspaper ABC, of Madrid, Spain, confirmed this conflict: “And because of a quarrel I had
with my family, I devoted myself to chess in the year 1908.” Either because he did not like
Pelayo’s attitude, or was embarrassed by his son’s behavior, José María Capablanca left his
job in the town of Aguacate. At an unknown date around 1908 or 1909, he was already identified
as the “treasurer” or “manager” of the Reina Mercedes Hospital in Havana, a position he held
for many years.12 Furthermore, even when José María Capablanca surely wished a graduate
diploma for his son, he did not want to be involved again in this commitment with Pelayo.
On the other hand, José Raúl was too proud to ask for clemency and probably was not willing
to promise something that he did not know for sure that he could deliver, or had the com-
mitment to do so. Pelayo’s economic subsidy should have ceased at the end of the school
year 1906-1907, as Capablanca’s academic achievements were decidedly poor. He even had
Baseball player at Columbia, class of 1910. Capablanca, seated first row, second from left, was a
baseball lover and played two of the most difficult defensive positions of the game: second base
and short stop. In one of the games, he suffered a back injury which caused him pain for the rest
of his life. From The Columbian magazine, 1909 (author’s collection).
some pending coursework and had to repeat some examinations in May and August 1908,
when the last entry appeared in his official record of Columbia University.
Capablanca was without a mea culpa, but also without the means to continue his studies.
The unusual December 1908 announcement in American Chess Bulletin apparently occurred
when he had already exhausted other possibilities, such as playing baseball for one of the
many semi-professional summer leagues in New York.13 The possibility of playing baseball
is not pure legend, taking into account that despite his short stay at Columbia University,
Capablanca was on one of its teams. Apparently, the Cuban suffered a back injury which
affected him for the rest of his life. Ending that summer with the physical impediment, his
ephemeral baseball career came to an end.14
When on January 5, 1909, José Raúl Capablanca began his career as a professional chess
player with a 25-board simultaneous exhibition in the Rice Chess Club, he could not even
remotely imagine how close he was to an international recognition that would alleviate
somewhat the problems then overwhelming him. The chess clubs responded to the call of
Helms with a surprising interest, taking into consideration the slight record of Capablanca.
They referred to him as Helms did, “the Cuban prodigy,” because they could not call him
“master”; nor could they identify him as “expert,” lowering the level of the show. The tour
was intense and exhausting. In some locations, they needed two sessions to satisfy the
demand: one in the afternoon and another in the evening.
From January 12 to 18, Capablanca covered the northern part of the state of New York,
with exhibitions in Troy, Schenectady, Utica, Rochester and Buffalo; he then crossed the
border and went to the nearby Canadian city of Toronto, where none of his 23 opponents
could score even a draw. He previously obtained other perfect scores in Troy against 25
rivals; in Schenectady against 30; in Rochester against 13, as well as in Buffalo, where he
won against 20 on January 17 in the afternoon and 10 the next day. After 132 consecutive
victories, a fan broke the chain in Cleveland, Ohio, drawing his game.
Capablanca said in My Chess Career that he had won 168 consecutive games in these
simultaneous exhibitions, possibly a more accurate figure if we consider, for example, his
victories after the last of the four games he lost at Washington, D.C., and the games he won
in Minneapolis before resigning to a local fan. After that followed equally impressive demon-
strations in Detroit, Milwaukee, the twin cities of Minneapolis and Saint Paul, and Forest
City and Sioux City in Iowa. In Lincoln, Nebraska, a huge snowstorm surprised him, the
first of such magnitude he had seen in his life. From there he went to New Orleans, where
Perry S. Benedict, the president of the local club, wrote to Helms: “Mr. Capablanca’s
demeanor and his modesty have made him a favorite here, and many think him a second
Morphy.” This should have been a great relief to Helms, because the aficionados of chess in
the hometown of the American genius compared the favorite son of their city with the
Cuban. The following game is an example of his bold combinations at the time:
Capablanca–C.E. Watson [C14]

Simultaneous Exhibition, Schenectady, 13 January 1909
1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e5 Nfd7 6. B×e7 Q×e7 7. Nb5 Nb6 8. c3
a6 9. Na3 c5 10. Nc2 0–0 A possibility is 10. … Nc6. 11. Qd2 Na4 12. Ne3 b5 13. f4 f5
Worth considering is 13. … f6. 14. Nf3 Bb7 15. Bd3 c4 Now Black closes his possibilities
in both flanks. It is interesting to see how Capablanca prepares his pieces for the assault
rDwDwhkD against the Black position. 16. Be2 Nd7 17. 0–0 Nab6 18. Ng5
DbDwDrDw h6 19. Nf3 g5 20. g3 Qg7 21. Kh1 Qg6 22. Bd1 Rf7 23. Bc2
phwDpDqD Nf8 24. f×g5 h×g5 (see diagram)
DpDp)p0w 25. N×f5! e×f5 26. N×g5 Rg7 27. R×f5 Qh6 28. Raf1
wDp)wDwD Nbd7 If 28. … Ne6 29. N×e6! Q×d2 (in case of 29. … Q×e6
Dw)wHN)w 30. Rh5 Re8 31. Rf6 Qe7 32. Qh6 and mate in eight moves).
P)B!wDw) 30. Rf8+ R×f8 31. R×f8 mate. 29. h4 Ne6 30. Rf6! N×f6
$wDwDRDK 31. R×f6 Qh5 32. Bd1 Qe8 33. R×e6 and Black resigned.
After 24. … h×g5 1–0.
Another example of the tour is an offhand game against one of the strongest players of
New Orleans. According to Hooper and Brandreth in The Unknown Capablanca, the Cuban
lost a piece in the opening but created a sharp counterattack. His rival, identified as “Mr.
X” in the American Chess Bulletin and “A.N. Other” by Hooper and Brandreth, might have
considered the phalanx of Black pawns on the kingside very threatening, and decided that
it was time to eliminate them.
Unknown–Capablanca
Simultaneous Exhibition, New Orleans, 15 February 1909
wDwDwDwi (see diagram) 1. B×h5? White should play 1. h3 f2 2. Rf1
Dp0wDwDw g×h3 3. Kh2 R×b2 4. Nc2 Kg7 5. Bd3 Nf7 6. Nd4 with an almost
pDwhwDBD winning position. Now Capablanca creates a winning mechanism
DwDPDwDp almost out of nothing. 1. … Ne4 2. Rf1 Nf2+ 3. Kg1 Nh3+
PDwDwDpD 4. Kh1 Rg2 5. B×g4 Rg1+ 6. R×g1 Nf2 mate. 0-1.
Hw)wDpDw
w)wDrDw) After the first outstanding results of the tour in the northern
DwDwDw$K part of the state of New York went public, Helms published the
White to move following claim in the February issue of American Chess Bulletin:
WANTED
A youth with the genius of Morphy, the memory of Pillsbury, and the determination of
Steinitz; of robust health which he values above rubies; full of a modest joy of living and posses-
sor of habits of life that square with a sensible ideal—as adversary for the present and invincible
champion of the world. Unto such a one will come support unlimited, friends by the legions,
imperishable glory, and, possibly, Victory!
Despite objections by some historians, one name, Capablanca, could be added to this
request after his successful tournée, with 686 wins, 20 draws and only 14 defeats in a total of
720 games in simultaneous displays and exhibitions against the strongest players of each local-
ity.15 It is curious that the American Chess Bulletin published at that time a satire of the con-
troversial British writer Robert J. Buckley, a man with few friends in the chess environment.
The “Chess Fable” was undoubtedly composed before the phenomenal result of Capablanca’s
tour, and everything pointed to the Cuban as the target against whom the scathing comments
were addressed. Without doubt its publication could have been the cause of the friction
between the Cuban and the magazine’s editors. However, this “Fable” was never subsequently
considered a direct attack on Capablanca, or historians thought it was better to ignore it. Its
printing could be an indication that Capablanca was occasionally humiliated (as Fischer would
later be by some of the publications of his time) for his decision to abandon his studies and
devote himself exclusively to chess. Buckley did not hide a certain disdain towards Capablanca,
whose style he abhorred: “He is not aiming for beauty, and for chessists with a sense of the
artistic, his games are mostly dull. To those, however, whose conception of a chess contest
is of something to be won, his games are interesting” (American Chess Bulletin, April 1910,
page 110). But Buckley recognized, at least, the “Irreproachable correctness” of the games of
the young master. While some interpreted Buckley’s satire as a barefaced attack against Capa-
blanca, for others it was just another sarcastic example of the harsh English writing style.
CHESS FABLE
There was a certaing Young Mang who went up from the Countrie to a Great Citie for to earn
his Living; and who for Sport and Entertaiment (without the which of Man’s Life is but as
Ashes); joined a great chesse club and became a Fine Player, so that he gained great Laud and
Honour, and in the Club Matches was put in the Forefront of the Battle, where, bearing himself
Right Valiantly, full oft he carried the Victorie, whereby Elders and Reverends Seignors of the
Club did Laud him more and more. And Forasmuch as this Young Man was of Too Light a Bal-
last, and Too Heavy of a Vanite, it came about that ever from Daie to Daie he thoughte less of
his Business, and more of his Game and Plaie, the which is Employers perceiving, they gave him
no Advancement, so that his Honour by reason of his skill in chesse was all the Honour he had.
Nay, Since his Minde was wholly absorbed by his Game, his Employers were fain to supersede
him by Juniors, who, having less Abilitie where yet devoted to the Real Business of their Lives.
Wherefore, in a score of years, the Young Man who had come from the Countrie was Champion
of the Club, and honoured there but elsewhere despised as Void of Understanding by Persons
who had but half his Brains, but who were his superiors in Common Sense. And lo! as the Years
Rolled on, those who were oven him in Business called him a Foole openly, and laid Burdens
upon him, making serve with Rigour for that he had missed his Chances, and has grasped as the
Bubble while turning his back on the Beef. And behold! there came forth from a Great Citie a
New Player, whose Famed has gone forth unto All Lands, who did forthwith Play and Conquer
and utterly Discomfit the Poor Champion, and make of him a Thinge of No Account. So that,
having lost the Beef, he now lost also the Bubble, and, being overtaken by Wante, became a Sorte
of Pauper, and the Hat did go around for him until his Ancient Friends and Playmates were tired
of him, wishing him Comfortable Dead and in the Silent Tombe, so that their Pockets might be
spared. Moral. The Game and Plaie of the Chesse is excellent and honorauble, befitting the Best
Intellects, which are further strengthened and improved by its practice. A Noble Recreation,
good for mind and manners. But-BUT-BUT- A recreation only, and not the Business of Life”
[American Chess Bulletin, December 1908, page 261].
While Capablanca was on his tour, the details for his match against Marshall were com-
pleted, although it is not clear whether the $600 purse required by the American master was
raised. The contract just mentioned that, after deducting costs, the sharing of the different
earnings of the match would be distributed at the rate of two-thirds for the winner and one-
third for the defeated. The agreement was signed on March 9 at the office of the American
Chess Bulletin, but the match did not begin until April 19, since Marshall had a pending tour
of exhibitions through several American states and Canada, in which country many consid-
ered him its most prominent exponent of chess because he lived part of his childhood in
Montreal.
The winner of the match would be the first who obtained eight victories. According
to Gelabert, Marshall was so sure of his victory that he did not even read the contract of the
match, signing it immediately. As Gelabert wrote years later, to Marshall all of this should
sound as cabaret, not classical music. He did not believe there was high-class chess behind
the propaganda about the Cuban, and therefore he felt that he would be well paid for doing
an easy, brief and objective demonstration of the difference between a master and a good
amateur.16
Marshall also made the mistake of bringing the date of the match too close to the com-
pletion of his tour in the American western states, as his last demonstration took place in
Milwaukee on April 9, only 10 days before the beginning of the match. It was a bad decision
overestimating his energies. But this was imitated later on several occasions by Capablanca,
the most notorious in the Moscow 1925 tournament, when during a brief rest between two
rounds, he traveled by train to St. Petersburg (then named Leningrad) for a simultaneous
display. When he returned, he lost his game against the Russian Boris Markovich Verlinsky.
The match began at 2:00 p.m. on April 19, 1909, at the Hotel Ansonia in New York.
Capablanca, playing with Black, employed the Tarrasch Defense against Marshall’s queen’s
pawn opening. The Cuban ended with an inferior pawn structure, but he could reduce the
number of pieces on the board and did not allow any progress of the master, who was brought
to a draw by repetition of moves. With the second game arrived the first surprise. It was a
game whose merits can be neither exaggerated nor diminished. It should have been a warning
sign to Marshall, who had been cautious against surprises by imposing a high number of vic-
tories to win the match. But apparently, it did not have this impact.
Capablanca–Frank J. Marshall [C63]

Match, 2nd Game, New York, 21 April 1909
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 f5 4. Nc3 Nf6 Nowadays the main line is 4. … f×e4
5. N×e4 Nf6. Others are now considered inferior, or better for White. 5. Qe2 Nd4 6. N×d4
e×d4 7. e×f5+ Be7 8. Ne4 0–0 9. N×f6+ Better than 9. 0–0 N×e4 10. Q×e4 d5 11. Qe2
B×f5 Draw. Naiditsch–Sermek, Celje 2004. 9. … B×f6 10. 0–0 d5 11. Bd3 Capablanca
played 11. Qh5 in the tenth game of the match but after 11. … c5 12. Be2 Re8 13. Bg4 d3!
Black is OK. The game was draw in 49 moves. 11. … c5 12. Qh5
rDwDb4wi better is 12. c4. 12. … Qc7 Black can disturb White’s develop-
0pDw$w0p ment with 12. … c4 13. Be2 Re8 14. Bg4 d3. 13. c4! d×c4
wDwDwDwD 14. B×c4+ Kh8 15. d3 Qe5 16. g4 Now White is consolidated.
Dw0wDPDQ 16. … Bd7 17. a4 Be7 18. Bd2 Qe2 19. Rae1 Q×d2 20. R×e7
PDB0wDPD Be8 (see diagram)
DwDPDwDw Capablanca ended the game in great style: 21. f6! Qh6
w)w1w)w) 22. Q×h6 g×h6 23. Rfe1! B×a4 24. R×b7 Rae8 25. R×e8 R×e8
DwDwDRIw 26. R×a7 Bd1 27. h3 h5 28. g5 h4 29. f4 Bh5 30. f5 Rf8 31. Rc7
After 20. … Be8 Rb8 32. R×c5 Black considered it improper to continue and
resigned. 1–0.
The news was wired to every corner of the globe, where they wondered, Who is this
Capablanca? In Moscow, the editor of the local chess magazine complained that he did not
take Lasker seriously when the World Champion said that the Cuban would defeat Marshall.
In the next two games, Marshall’s fans waited for a convincing answer setting the record
straight. But it was in vain. Then came the fifth game, played in the afternoon of April 27
in the Manhattan Chess Club.
One of the older score sheets of Capablanca, who sent it to an unknown recipient with the fol-
lowing words: “I send you this game which I played the other day so that, barring the ending,
you may know how not to play for black. To make up for the game, I played Jaffe the following
day and he never had a.…” Apparently, the text continued on the back (courtesy of Mercedes
Capablanca, who owns the original).
Frank J. Marshall–Capablanca [D55]

Match, 5th Game, New York, 27 April 1909
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 Ne4 Nowadays the Lasker Variation is
played in the following way 5. … h6 6. Bh4 0–0 7. Nf3 Ne4. 6. B×e7 Q×e7 7. Bd3 N×c3
8. b×c3 Nd7 9. Nf3 0–0 10. Qc2 h6 11. 0–0 c5 White is a little better after 11. … d×c4
12. B×c4 c5 13. e4 b6 14. d5 e×d5 15. B×d5 Rb8 16. c4 Vaisman–Jost, France 1994. 12. Rfe1
d×c4 13. B×c4 b6 14. Qe4 Capablanca said: “I do not think well of this maneuver, as the
attack is too slow to obtain any advantage, and on the other hand it compels Black to post his
pieces where he wanted.” Another possibility is 14. d5 e×d5 15. B×d5 Rb8 16. e4 Rd8 17. e5
Nf8 18. Qe4 Be6 19. c4 and Black is OK. Alster–Scafarelli, Prague 1957. 14. … Rb8 15. Bd3
Nf6 16. Qf4 Bb7 Black is OK. 17. e4 Rfd8 18. Rad1 Rbc8 19. Re3 Playing for the attack
against the Black king. But Black takes advantage of this move to begin an attack in the
queenside. Capablanca recommends 19. Bb1. 19. … c×d4 20. c×d4 Rc3 21. Bb1 “An error,
21. Qh4 was the only chance White had of holding the game” (Capablanca) (see diagram)
21. … g5 22. N×g5 If 22. Qe5 Ng4; If 22. Qg3 R×e3
wDw4wDkD 23. f×e3 N×e4. 22. … R×e3 23. Q×e3 Ng4! 24. Qg3 Q×g5
0bDw1p0w 25. h4 25. Qc7 Rc8 26. Q×b7 Rc1 27. Qb8+ Kg7 28. Rf1 Qd2
w0wDphw0 winning outright (Capablanca). 25. … Qg7 26. Qc7 R×d4
DwDwDwDw Capablanca proposed as better 26. … Qf6! 27. f3 (27. Qg3 h5
wDw)P!wD 28. f3 R×d4 29. Rf1 Qe5 winning) 27. … R×d4 28. Rf1 Qe5 win-
Dw4w$NDw ning. 27. Qb8+ Kh7 28. e5+ Be4 29. R×d4 B×b1 30. Q×a7
PDwDw)P) N×e5 31. Rf4 Be4 32. g3 If 32. R×e4 Nf3+ 33. Kf1 Nd2+ win-
DBDRDwIw
ning. 32. … Nf3+ 33. Kg2 f5 Another possibility is 33. …
After 21. Bb1 N×h4+ 34. Kh3 Nf3 35. Kg2 Ng5+ 36. R×e4 N×e4 37. Q×b6
Qa1 38. Qb7 Ng5 winning. 34. Q×b6 N×h4+ 35. Kh2 Nf3+
36. R×f3 Forced. If 36. Kh3 Ng5+ 37 .Kh2 Qa1. 36. … B×f3 37. Q×e6 Be4 38. f3 Bd3
39. Qd5 Qb2+ 40. Kg1 Bb1 41. a4 Qa1 42. Qb7+ Kg6 43. Qb6+ Kh5 44. Kh2 Ba2
45. Qb5 Kg6 46. a5 Qd4 47. Qc6+ Qf6 48. Qe8+ Qf7 49. Qa4 Qe6 50. a6 Qe2+ 51. Kh3
Bd5 52. a7 B×f3 White resigned. 0–1.
The American master was notorious for discovering saving resources in hopeless posi-
tions through his famous Marshall Swindles. But on this occasion he was the first world-
level player to face Capablanca’s enormous ability to refute any plan of attack, as sharp as it
might be. As Lasker would write years later (April 30, 1921, for De Telegraaf of Amsterdam),
“You cannot scare Capablanca with spurious or suspicious sacrifices, clever as they be, because
given sufficient time for reflection, he minutely examines the combination of his adversary
and exposes his weakness.” After the first five games, when the difference was barely two
points, it was not time yet for a general assessment or an accurate forecast, but one could
advance some observations, as the newspaper London Field did, cited by the June edition
(page 128) of the American Chess Bulletin:
The first four games to hand do not permit to judge of the capabilities of the budding master,
but they are negative evidence of his qualification to mastership by the cautious style adopted by
Marshall so far. The genius with whom both players are undeniably endowed is conspicuous by
absences in any of the games—a single spark being emitted by Capablanca in the second game,
but his was only a one move combination. In the third game, however, he met a powerful
looking attack with a clear insight into its dangers and emerged unscathed from it, and a
supreme moment when in real danger, he escaped by an ingenious sacrifice; whilst in the fifth
game, to hand since, he outplayed Marshall in first class style. That the young master, who is
reputed for dash and brilliancy, should be able to curb his natural inclination in his first
encounter with a master, may be taken as additional evidence in his favor.
Also, after the fifth game of the match, Chess Weekly (May 1, 1909, page 178) gave up
and recognized Capablanca as a chess master, and not a mere expert: “Some time ago, we
said that Capablanca would have to give positive proof of his ability before we acknowledged
him as a chess master. The games of the match so far, have furnished satisfactory proof to
us that this young player is already a master of the first rank.” The next day, the action moved
to Morristown, New Jersey.

Match, 6th Game, Morristown, 29 April 1909
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 d6 4. c3 Bg4 Capablanca: “I do not like this move. 4. … f5
seems good and leads to interesting complications.” 5. d3 Be7 6. Nbd2 Nf6 7. 0–0 0–0 8. Re1
h6 9. Nf1 Nh7 10. Ne3 Bh5 If 10. … f5 11. e×f5 B×f5 12. N×f5 R×f5 13. d4 e×d4 (13.. .. Bf6
14. Bd3) 14. B×c6 b×c6 15. N×d4 winning (Capablanca). 11. g4 Bg6 12. Nf5 h5 “Not good,
because Black can derive no advantage from the open rook’s file, while White will be able to
utilize it for his rooks” (Capablanca). 13. h3 h×g4 14. h×g4 Bg5 If 14. … Ng5 15. N×e7+
winning. 15. N×g5 N×g5 16. Kg2 d5 17. Qe2 Re8 18. Rh1 Re6 This is one kind of Marshall’s
famous traps, but Khalifman wrote that White could play 19. Bg5 Q×g5 20. e×d5 B×f5 21. d×e6
B×g4 and now not 22. e×f7+? K×f7 23. f3 Bh3+! 24. Kf2 Qh4+ 25. Ke3 Qf4+ and draw, but
22. Qe3 Qg6 23. e×f7+ winning. 19. Qe3 “A very important move, the object of which is to
shut off the action of the opposing queen, and at the same time to bring the White queen into
the game. It also creates a weak diagonal in Black’s game against which the White bishop can
act” (Capablanca). 19. … f6 20. Ba4 Ne7 21. Bb3 c6 22. Qg3 a5 23. a4 (see diagram)
23. … Nf7 Strangely enough, a game in Russia in 2009
arrived at the same position. It followed: 23. … b5 24. Rh4 b×a4 rDw1wDkD
25. Bc2 Qc7 26. Bd2 Kf8 27. Rah1 Ng8 28. Rh8 Rd8 29. Qh4 DpDwhw0w
d×e4 30. R×g8+ K×g8 31. Qh8+ Kf7 32. Q×g7+ Ke8 33. Rh8 wDpDr0bD
mate 1–0 Dudin–Darenkov, Saratov 2009. 24. Be3 b6 25. Rh4 0wDp0Nhw
Kf8 26. Rah1 Ng8 27. Qf3 B×f5 28. g×f5 Rd6 29. Qh5 Ra7 PDwDPDPD
30. Qg6 Nfh6 If 30. … Ne7 31. Rh8+ N×h8 32. R×h8+ Ng8 DB)PDw!w
33. Qh7 Kf7 34. B×b6 winning (Capablanca). 31. R×h6 g×h6
w)wDw)KD
$wGwDwDR
32. B×h6+ Ke7 33. Qh7+ Ke8 34. Q×g8+ Kd7 35. Qh7+ Qe7
36. Bf8 Q×h7 37. R×h7+ Kc8 38. R×a7 Black resigned. After After 23. a4
the game Capablanca wrote: “This is one of my best games. I saw
[W.E.] Napier the day after I played it and he praised it highly.” 1–0.
It was a beautiful game that deserved a lot of words of praise. The Polish-French Savielly
Tartakower described it as being as precious as any real jewelry. The American Fred Reinfeld
said this game traveled around the world, showing everybody the phenomenal ability of
Capablanca. Gelabert wrote that the victory of the Cuban reminded one of Steinitz’s happy
days when he played his last match against Blackburne. The Dutch Max Euwe and Lodewijk
Prins commented in their book Het Schaakphenomeen José Raoul Capablanca (The Hague,
1949) that it was a “systematically planned attack very well carried out.” The Russian Vasily
Panov noted that in this game the qualities of the unique talent of Capablanca were clearly
expressed, particularly the harmonious combination of strategy and tactics. For Garry Kas-
parov (My Great Predecessors, Volume I, page 229) it was a game that “demonstrated the
overwhelming difference in class between the two opponents.” Due to its sobriety, we prefer
the comment of the Argentinean Paulino Alles Monasterio and the Swedish Gideon
Ståhlberg in Partidas Clásicas de Capablanca (Buenos Aires, 1943): “It is the first classical
game of Capablanca.”
Marshall obtained his first (and only) win in the seventh game, played in the Sheraton
Hotel in New York. But in the eighth, disputed in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, Capablanca
got a three-point lead again.

Match, 8th Game, Wilkes-Barre, 3 May 1909
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 d6 4. 0–0 a6 The normal 4. … Nf6 5. Nc3 Be7 6. d4 e×d4
7. N×d4 Bd7 is better. 5. B×c6+ b×c6 6. d4 e×d4 7. N×d4 Bd7 8. Re1 c5 9. Nf3 Be7
Or 9. … h6 10. Nc3 Be6 11. Nd5 g5 12. Bd2 Bg7 13. Ba5 Ra7 14. e5 Qc8 15. Qd3 d×e5
16. N×e5 Nf6 17. Nc6 Rb7 18. Nde7 Qa8 19. Rad1 Kf8 20. Qd8+ Q×d8 21. R×d8+ Ne8
22. Ng6+ f×g6 23. R×e6 Kf7 24. Re7+ 1–0 Kaden–Ferguson,
wDw4wDkD Parsippany 2011. 10. Nc3 c6 Better is 10. … Be6 but White has
DwDwDrDp the upper hand already. 11. Bf4 Be6 12. Qd3 Nf6 13. Rad1 d5
pDpDQDpD 14. Ng5 d4 15. N×e6 f×e6 16. Na4 Qa5 17. b3 Rd8 18. Nb2
Dw0wGwDP Nh5 Of course, if 18. … Q×a2 19. Nc4 and Black loses his queen.
wDN0PDwD 19. Be5 0–0 20. Nc4 Qb4 21. Qh3 With a winning position.
DP1wDwDw 21. … g6 22. Q×e6+ Rf7 23. g4 Bh4 24. g×h5 B×f2+ 25. Kh1
PDPDwgw) Qc3 (see diagram)
DwDR$wDK 26. Re3! Stopping all Black threats. 26. … Q×c2 27. Red3
After 25. Qc3 Qe2 28. Nd6 R×d6 29. B×d6 Be1 30. Qe8+ Kg7 31. h6+! The
final touch. Black resigned. 1–0
After two draws, which saved Marshall’s honor a little, there came a ruthless offensive
in games 11, 12 and 13, putting the score 91⁄2–31⁄2 in favor of the Cuban. Then, the calm arrived.
Either Capablanca was tired, or the resistance of Marshall acquired the strength of steel in
that last moment. The truth is there was a series of nine draws which caused the fans of the
local idol to make a great hullabaloo. During the draw series, the editors of The Chess Weekly
received a caricature in which Capablanca and Marshall with long beards are sitting in front
of a chess board which reflects years of neglect while one of the players is saying to the other:
“Can I offer you a draw?” On the annotation board there was no space for more draws. How-
ever, you could see a mistake: the cartoon’s board marked a victory per side, when the score
was actually 7 wins for the Cuban to 1 for Marshall. In fact, the cartoon appeared in the
pages of The Chess Weekly when the match had already finished and its message was already
dated, but it was so funny that the magazine could not resist its charm and published it.
Some newspapers and magazines demanded a riskier game play from Capablanca, some-
thing beyond belief as it was Marshall who was on the verge of defeat. Others advocated for
stopping the actions, and they had an important precedent on their favor. The match between
One of the more humorous chess cartoons. The cartoonist, C.W. Kahles, imagined how old Mar-
shall and Capablanca would be at the end of their match. Actually, the contest had already ended
when the cartoon was published as a “Fantasy of Yesterday” (Brooklyn Chess Weekly, June 26,
1909).
the German Louis Paulsen and the Hungarian Ignaz Kolisch, held in London, 1861, was
favorable to the first with the score 6 wins to 1 when after many draws Kolisch was able to
fight back and almost level the score 7 to 6, when it was declared ended without a winner
or a loser.17 In fact many of those in favor of stopping the match did it to prevent losing
money on bets gone sour, as Marshall recognized later. Meanwhile comments began to grow
that the continuation of the fight made little sense because the players were disputing an
imaginary title that Marshall did not hold. This was not true. None of the 15 clauses of the
contract for the match mentioned at all that it was for the championship of the United
States. In fact, Helms never identified it like that, although some clubs promoted it that way
for propaganda purposes.
From Europe, where the match and the criticism of the repeated draws were well known,
Lasker wrote that although the public pays to see a chess master play, it has no right to coerce
him to do it poorly. Each master plays as he knows and can. Capablanca was playing excellent
chess. That’s the most he could be asked to do, emphasized Lasker.
Walter Penn Shipley, who in an article for Helms’s magazine in April of that year referred
to Marshall as the “Champion of America,” analyzed the situation under a historical per-
spective in his chess column for the newspaper Philadelphia Inquirer ( July 13, 1909):
The last match for the championship of America was between Pillsbury and Showalter [in 1897]
and was won by Pillsbury. Since Pillsbury’s death we believed that technically Showalter should
be termed the champion of America. Some years ago and prior to several matches played by
Showalter, as the champion of America, which title he won by defeating Lipschuetz [Samuel
Lipschütz], he contested a match with A.B. Hodges, and if our recollection serves us correctly,
Hodges in this match won the championship, but afterwards, owing to business engagements,
was unable to accept Showalter’s challenge for the championship and allowed it to go by default.
Showalter, having practically retired from active chess for several years, should also forfeit the
title of champion, provided he has received a challenge from a first-class player. We are not
aware, however, that such a challenge has been declined by Showalter.18
Shipley concluded that the title was abandoned, so the best solution would be a quad-
rangular tournament with the participation of Showalter, Hodges, Marshall and Capablanca.
But later he said that because Capablanca is not an American citizen, he must nationalize
first to be able to aspire to the title of a nation which he was not officially part of. It was
Marshall who solved this dispute once and for all when he defeated Showalter in a match at
the end of 1909 and earned the right to be called “Chess Champion of the United States,”
a title he held until 1936, when he voluntarily relinquished it. The struggle that some people
predicted would last a century, actually ended on June 23 in the Manhattan Chess Club.

Match, 23rd Game, New York, 23 June 1909
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 c5 4. c×d5 e×d5 5. Nf3 Nc6 6. g3 Be6 Nowadays the main
line in the Tarrasch Defense is 6. … Nf6 7. Bg2 Be7 8. 0–0 0–0 9. Bg5 c×d4 10. N×d4 h6
11. Be3 Re8 12. Rc1 Bf8. 7. Bg2 Be7 Capablanca played in the first game: 7. … Nf6 8. Bg5
h6 9. B×f6 Q×f6 10. 0–0 c×d4 11. Nb5 Rc8 12. Nf×d4 N×d4 13. N×d4 Bc5 14. N×e6 f×e6
15. Qa4+Kf7 16. Rac1 and it was a draw at the 30th move. But White could play 16. e4 with
some initiative. 8. 0–0 Nf6 9. Bg5 Better is 9. d×c5 B×c5 10. Bg5 Be7 11. Nd4 0–0 12. Rc1
h6 13. Bf4 Qd7 14. N×e6 f×e6 15. Bh3 g5 16. Bd2 d4 17. Na4 Ne4 18. Be1 Qd5 19. Bg2 Qe5
20. Qd3 and White has a winning game. Capablanca–Olland, Hastings 1919. 9. … Ne4
10. B×e7 Q×e7 11. Ne5 Marshall defeated Mieses in 1908 with 11. Rc1 but after 11. … N×c3
12. R×c3 c4 13. Ne5 0–0 14. f4 f6 15. N×c6 b×c6 16. e4 d×e4 17. B×e4 Bd5 Black has equal-
ity. 11. … N×d4 12. N×e4 d×e4 13. e3 Nf3+ 14. N×f3 e×f3 15. Q×f3 0–0! 16. Rfc1 Better
is 16. Q×b7 Q×b7 17. B×b7 Rab8 18. Bg2 R×b2 19. Rfc1 c4 20. Bf1 Rc8 21. Rc3 with
drawing chances. 16. … Rab8 17. Qe4 Qc7 18. Rc3 After 18. f4 (Panov). 18. … Rfd8! and
White has more problems (Kasparov). 18. … b5 19. a3 c4 20. Bf3 20. Rd1 Rfd8 21. Rcc1
was better (Lasker). 20. … Rfd8 21. Rd1 R×d1+ 22. B×d1 Rd8 23. Bf3 g6 24. Qc6 Qe5
Black changes queens where he wants. 25. Qe4 Q×e4 26. B×e4 (see diagram)
26. … Rd1+! Not allowing the approach of the king to the center. Now Black has a
winning position. 27. Kg2 a5 28. Rc2 b4 29. a×b4 a×b4 30. Bf3
wDw4wDkD Rb1 31. Be2 If 31. Rd2 b3! 32. Bd1 Rc1 33. Kf3 c3 34. b×c3
0wDwDpDp b2 35. R×b2 R×d1 winning. 31. … b3 32. Rd2 Rc1 33. Bd1
wDwDbDpD c3 34. b×c3 b2 35. R×b2 If 35. Bc2 R×c2 35. … R×d1
DpDwDwDw 36. Rc2 Bf5 37. Rb2 Rc1 38. Rb3 Be4+ 39. Kh3 Rc2 40. f4 h5
wDpDBDwD 41. g4 h×g4+ 42. K×g4 R×h2 43. Rb4 f5+ 44. Kg3 Re2
)w$w)w)w 45. Rc4 R×e3+ 46. Kh4 Kg7 47. Rc7+ Kf6 48. Rd7 Bg2
w)wDw)w) 49. Rd6+ Kg7 and mate in at most five moves. White resigned.
DwDwDwIw 0–1.
After 26. B×e4
Capablanca summed up his impressions of the match in My Chess Career:

The most surprising feature of all was the fact I played without having opened a book.… This,
and whatever I knew from hearsay, was all my stock of knowledge for the match. My victory put
me at once in the foremost rank among the great masters of the game. The play during the
match showed that I was weak in the openings and just about strong enough in the simple play
for position. My great strength lay in the endgame. I had a fine judgment as to whether a given
position was won or lost, and was able to defend a difficult position as few players could, as I
repeatedly demonstrated during the course of the match in repulsing Marshall’s onslaught. I may
add that my style was not either definitive or complete….
Marshall himself acknowledged later in his biography My Fifty Years of Chess (Philadel-
phia, 1942) he had underestimated the Cuban: “I must admit that I expected him to be a
pushover; I made no preparation for the match, took the whole thing very lightly. My expe-
rience gave me a wholesome respect for his ability.” Lasker, who had returned briefly to New
York on June 4 aboard the steamer La Provence, once the match had finished wrote about
its meaning in his weekly chronicle for the newspaper New York Evening Post of June 26:
Capablanca has shown himself to be a great player, in that he beat, upon his debut, an opponent
as formidable as Marshall with the overwhelming score of 8 to 1. He has also proven himself a
strong character, because he remained true to his own nature when attempts were being made on
all sides to force him to abandon his style. He continued to adhere to soundness when the mad
demand was made upon him to “take chances,” as the public calls it, and he carried his strategy
through successfully.
Without a doubt, the victory raised Capablanca to a prominent place wherever chess
was played in the world. One of the most important recognitions occurred in New York
City when the most respected local newspaper, the New York Times, posted a comment on
his triumph in its section “Topics of the Times”:
CAPABLANCA’S CHESS
One of the most remarkable occurrences in the realm of chess has just been recorded. A
youth, not twenty-one years of age, has beaten an accomplished master, known all over the
world as one of the leading experts, a man of over ten years standing in the front rank of the
international arena. We refer to JOSE R. CAPABLANCA of Havana and FRANK J. MARSHALL of
Brooklyn. True, the latter did not do justice to himself, for up to the time when the contest was
practically over he indulged in unsound play in underrating his adversary, and because of the lat-
ter’s youth he considered it below his dignity to play for a draw, when such result ought to have
satisfied him. “Explaining away,” however, does little good in this case because of the mastery of
style shown by the young Cuban player. It is an old saying at chess that nothing is more difficult
than to win a so-called won game, that is to say, to win a game where one has the victory in
sight. It is here where a real master excels.
All critics agree that Capablanca has shown this qualification, and it is for this reason that he
must, henceforth, be considered a factor in international chess. He has however shown a still
greater virtue which cannot be estimated too highly. While his style is that of the old Morphy
School, excelling in brilliance, especially when opposed to weaker players, while he loves to
indulge in frisky combinations, not caring whether he wins or loses, just for the sake of sport,
when sitting down to play MARSHALL , he at once adopted the tactics of the modern school,
advocated by Steinitz, and now favored by all the leading experts, including the champion
Lasker, a school which teaches that one must not precipitate an attack, but try to accumulate
small advantages in position, to weaken a spot here and there in the citadel of one’s adversary,
and when everything is ready, simplify things by forcing exchanges, and finally carry the day by
means of the superior position in the endgame stage. CAPABLANCA followed these principles to a
letter in his game with MARSHALL. But he did more. As soon as his adversary sacrificed material
for the sake of an attack, he understood it wonderfully well, and was able to repel the onslaught
in most instances in very ingenious style.
No wonder chess players in this country and abroad look upon the new star as a second Mor-
phy, thereby, of course, only taking into consideration his youth and his success as a match
player, for it is generally admitted that Morphy’s style of play would scarcely answer nowadays
when the science has so much advanced and “little bit of Morphy” as the veteran English expert,
BLACKBURNE is in the habit of calling brilliant combination, scarcely present themselves in seri-
ous play over the board. There are, however, enthusiasts and adherers of CAPABLANCA who
maintain that if it shall ever be possible again to combine brilliance with soundness, C APA-
BLANCA will be found to possess the natural talent and ingenuity to establish such School [New
York Times, May 30, 1909].
In Havana, where they followed the match with enthusiasm, the newspapers returned
again to talk about chess. León Paredes sent Capablanca a telegram of congratulations the
text of which was published, among other such notices, by the Diario de la Marina in its
edition of June 24: “A proud Cuba congratulates you for your glorious triumph.” According
to the UK newspaper Kingston Daily Telegraph quoted without date in the American Chess
Bulletin of December 1908, Capablanca’s victory guaranteed him three things: The praise
of the press, his entry in the Top-10-of-the-World club, and the applause of Cuba. Success
allowed Capablanca to return to his country and fix the conflict with his family. Now, firmly
established in the Court of Caissa, he felt a man accomplished and famous, who could expect
the forgiveness and understanding of his father.
5. The Prodigal Son
Cuba was impatiently waiting for its prodigal son.

On Wednesday, July 14, in New York, Capablanca boarded the steamship Merida of
the shipping company Ward. But the vessel, which should have sailed to Havana at 9:00
a.m., did not depart until several hours later, not arriving on the island at dawn three days
later as expected, but after noon. Shortly before the Merida entered the harbor and was
directed to the pier Muelle de Caballería (Quay of Cavalry), the passengers observed a tug
(the Vicente Salgado) sounding in a crazy way its sirens while inside a noisy group waved
their handkerchiefs. They were family members, fans and the directors of the Havana Chess
Club receiving Capablanca as a warrior who ritornava vincitori.1
Capablanca spent his first days in Cuba amending his relationship with the family, par-
ticularly with his father, who now could do no less than accept the decision of his son to
become a professional chess player. José María understood that all his efforts to dissuade
Raúl from his goal had been in vain. He perhaps lamented, hearing the universal applause,
which he had tried to dampen, as something bearing the unmistakable mark of having been
made by powers beyond human comprehension. From this visit to Havana dates the reissue
of the photo immortalized 16 years earlier in the study of Taveira, with the Capablanca
father and son sitting at each side of a chessboard. On this new occasion, the image symbol-
ized the return of harmony. The serenity on their faces is a clear indication that the bad
terms that had emerged between them in 1908 were already something of the past. It must
have been a relief for both to remove the enormous burden of the differences that set them
apart during the last months.2
Before returning to Cuba, Capablanca received some offers that seemed very appealing,
including a challenge coming from Mexico on behalf of an unknown chess player named
Rudolf Pokorny, which promised a quick and easy purse of $500 in a match limited to 15
days. As it turned out, Pokorny was a genuine maniac, who often said something and then
took back his words, in a style that could have made the famous Mexican comedian Cantinflas
jealous. When his spurious Mexican Champion title was degraded by the revelation that he
actually triumphed in a beginner tournament, Pokorny responded that he had suffered an
accident. And when the moment of truth arrived, Pokorny wisely decided it was time to
retire from chess while he was at his personal summit and under better conditions than Mor-
phy who, as he said, took too long to do it. At least, Pokorny won by his joke a free one-year
subscription to The Chess Weekly when he explained that in fact he was an anonymous immi-
grant from Bohemia who lived in Mexico. Magnus Smith wrote in this magazine that just
as Comet Biela disappeared in 1852, “Pokorny having burst into splendor, seems to have
123
The reconciliation image. Capablanca with his father, José María, in Taveira studio, 1909, recre-
ating the pose of 16 years before. The photograph was probably first published in the Cuban
magazine El Fígaro, June 27, 1909. The issue also included four more pictures and a long story
on the young master (courtesy of Mercedes Capablanca).
‘blown up’ … into thin air” (The Chess Weekly, October 19, 1909). In fact, the magazine
regretted that this show, unique in the history of chess, would not entertain the usually
solemn world of Caissa any longer; but it did not miss the chance to blame the American
Chess Bulletin for the fiasco.
Other more serious opportunities for Capablanca were a possible match against the
Polish Akiva Rubinstein, who had announced in a cable to the American Chess Bulletin not
only his intentions of crossing the Atlantic for the first time, but to face the Cuban. There
was also the possibility of a visit to South Africa, whose chess officials had unsuccessfully
tried to get Lasker for three years. None of the possibilities were met, negatively affecting
the Cuban’s trust in the reliability of Helms and Cassel, who ran the organization of his
activities. But ultimately, Capablanca had the certainty of the payments from a second North
American tour as soon as he returned to the United States in about two months. And this
seemed something firm after his first successful tour through various states of the Union.
Capablanca also used his first days in Havana to visit the media of the capital and agree
with León Paredes to play a series of friendly games against some of the best players in the
city. The distinction of being one of the first to face the man who beat Marshall went to
Juan Corzo. They had not been face-to-face for the last eight years (from March 1902), and
Capablanca found that his old rival Corzo (who was a young man 24 years old when he
played the match of 1901) was still a chess player to pay attention to. Corzo took advantage
in the game when Capablanca missed a good opportunity on his 16th move. But Corzo
failed to win because of his well-known shortcomings in the endgame, and also because
Capablanca complicated the position with the exchange of his bishop for three pawns. After
the game, Corzo said modestly in his chess section (Diario de la Marina, July 22, 1909) that
he had managed to draw against the “Colossus” because Capablanca had “three nights with-
out sleep.”

Exhibition Game, Havana, 21 July 1909
1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. Nf3 Bb4 4. Nd5 Ba5 5. Bc4 Nowadays it is thought that White
has an advantage after 5. c3 d6 6. b4 Bb6 7. a4 a6 8. N×b6 c×b6 9. Bc4. 5. … Nge7 6. Ne3
0–0 7. 0–0 d6 8. d4 e×d4 9. N×d4 N×d4 10. Q×d4 Bb6 11. Qd3 Ng6 12. f4 Qf6 13. g3
Bh3 14. Rf2 (see diagram)
14. … Rfe8 15. e5 d×e5 16. f×e5 N×e5? Better is 16. … rDwDw4kD
Q×e5! with a winning advantage. Now White has the upperhand. 0p0wDp0p
17. R×f6! N×d3 18. R×b6 N×c1 19. R×b7 R×e3 20. R×c1 Re7 wgw0w1nD
21. Bd5 Be6 22. R×c7 With the simple 22. B×e6 f×e6 23. Rd1 DwDwDwDw
a5 24. a4 Ra6 25. Rb5 e5 26. Kf2 White has a very favorable end- wDBDP)wD
ing. 22. … R×c7 23. B×a8 B×a2! 24. Be4 It seems Black could DwDQHw)b
defend himself after 24. b3 g6 25. Bd5 a5 26. Bc4 a4 27. Ra1 P)PDw$w)
a×b3 28. c×b3 R×c4 29. b×c4 B×c4 and the ending is a draw. $wGwDwIw
24. … g6 25. Kf2 f5 26. Bd3 Bd5 27. b4 Kf7 28. c4 Kf6 29. Re1 After 14. Rf2
Be6 30. c5 g5 31. Ke3 h5 32. Kd4 Rd7+ 33. Kc3 f4 34. Rf1
Bh3 35. Rf2 Bf5 Better might be 35. … Ke5 Black is in trouble again. 36. Bb5 Rb7 37. Ba6
f×g3 38. R×f5+K×f5 39. B×b7 g×h2 40. Bd5 Ke5 41. Kc4? White wins after 41. Bh1 Ke6
42. Kd4 h4 43. Ke4. Now it is a draw. 41. … h4 42. b5 g4 43. b6 a×b6 44. c×b6 Kd6 45. b7
Kc7 46. Kd3 g3 47. Ke2 h3 48. Kf1 Draw. ½–½.
During his stay in Havana, Capablanca also played a game against Rafael Blanco and two
more games with Juan Corzo (León Paredes was unable to participate in the offhand exhibitions
and Corzo took his place). The big surprise was on July 27, when in a winning position, Capa-
blanca made a blunder against René Portela on his 46th move and had to resign immediately.
The news was highlighted by the city’s newspapers to the chagrin of Capablanca—and Portela
was received as a hero in Guanabacoa, his hometown. The most ambitious of Capablanca’s
projects in the island, his debut as a blindfold player against a team composed of Juan Corzo,
Rafael Blanco and Fernando Rensolí, showed that this mode of play was not his forte.3
Capablanca (blindfold)–Juan Corzo, Rafael Blanco and

Fernando Rensolí [C66]
Exhibition Game, Havana, 23 August 1909
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. Nde2 0–0 9. Ng3 Re8 10. b3 Bf8 11. Bb2 g6 12. f4 Maybe better is 12. h3. 12. …
rDwDrDkD Bg7 13. Qd2 Ng4 14. h3 Qh4 15. Nge2 Nf6 16. Bd3 (see dia-
0p0bDpgp gram)
wDn0whpD 16. … B×h3! A correct sacrifice. 17. g×h3 Q×h3 18. Nc1?
DwDwDwDw Better is 18. Nb5! After 18. … N×e4 19. B×e4 B×b2 20. Nec3
wDwDP)w1 B×a1 21. R×a1 Qg4+ 22. Bg2 and Black has only a little advan-
DPHBDwDP tage. 18. … Ng4 Now Black is winning. 19. Nd1 B×b2 20. N×b2
PGP!NDPD d5 21. e5 Nc×e5! 22. f×e5 R×e5 23. Nd1 Rg5 24. Qg2 Qh4
$wDwDRIw 25. Rf4 Qe1+ 26. Rf1 Qe5 27. Rb1 Nf6 28. Ne2 R×g2+
After 16. Bd3 29. K×g2 Ng4 30. Rf4 h5 31. Nf2 Ne3+ 32. Kg1 Qg5+ White
resigned. 0–1.4
Capablanca also tried to show his baseball skills and took over the responsible defensive
position of shortstop in an informal game played in the Vedado Tennis Club in Havana,
where according to a brief article in La Discusión, August 23, “Capablanca at shortstop made
two splendid catches.” But his desire to give the fans a good performance was interrupted
by a heavy rain. Capablanca contemplated the sky trying to understand how, just when it
was his turn at bat, that squalls formed so suddenly. That afternoon, his baseball dream
finally faded away. Maybe it was the act of a jealous Caissa, who perhaps fearful of losing her
favorite son sent the downpour so the history of chess that she had set up would not change.5
After two months in Cuba, Capablanca departed back to New York on September 19
aboard the Saratoga, one of the boats regularly used by other legendary figures of the world
of chess, like Steinitz, for their travels to Havana. He arrived in New York on September
22. Those two months in Cuba made Capablanca lose his perspective of the difference
between the sporting and the legal meaning of his victory over Marshall. Knowing that there
were some people who questioned his title of “champion” of the United States, he said bluntly
that since he was the best player in Cuba, as well as the winner against the most renowned
North American master, “I consider myself the ‘Champion of America’ [meaning North,
Central and South America], and stand ready to defend my title within a year against any
American of the U.S.A, or anywhere else, for a side bet of at least $1,000.” And to be obvious
and beyond any doubt, he added: “Under these circumstances the question whether I’m cit-
izen of the U.S.A. or not has nothing to do with the matter under consideration.”6 In its
issue of October 2, 1909, The Chess Weekly described these statements as typical of an auto-
crat, while the New York newspaper Sun explained them as peculiar to the independent
temperament and the ardor of the new star.
Meanwhile, important events were happening in the world of chess. Lasker had achieved
an overwhelming victory—7 wins, 1 loss, 2 draws—against the Polish Dawid Janowski in a
match where the world crown was not at stake. A possible agreement for a match between
the world champion and the Austrian Carl Schlechter was in view. Finally, The Chess Weekly
gave news of the appearance of another figure in the Sixth All-Russian Amateur Tournament
in St. Petersburg who would become one of the best in the world, although this was over-
shadowed at the moment by Lasker’s victory in the simultaneously played master competition:
The World very likely will hear more of A. Alekhin in the near future. We publish a game which
this talented player won against one of the strongest Hungarian players, playing last year at
Dusseldorf. The quality of the play on the part of the White is of the very highest order, and
furnishes evidence of genius of the first magnitude, not a whit inferior to any of the best displays
of Capablanca or any other living master.7
Earlier in the same magazine, its editor in chief, Magnus Smith, had finally accepted,
after Capablanca’s victory against Marshall, that the brilliant start of the Cuban’s career had
a lot of resemblance to Morphy’s. This, even though he had recently criticized the American
Chess Bulletin for extolling Capablanca in the same manner. Smith even said that the Cuban
“is destined to be crowned by the World Chess title.” It was not a bad year for Smith: two
predictions of future world champions that were met in full.
The second tour by Capablanca had a good start on October 12 in the town of Hack-
ensack, New Jersey, when he defeated 25 of his 30 rivals and drew with the other five. As
before, the organization of the tour was in the hands of the editors of the American Chess
Bulletin. The second victorious march across the states of the north, west and south (with
a brief stopover in Montreal, Canada) ended with a result of 542 wins, 22 draws and 17
defeats, according to the data provided by the magazine in its issue of January 1910. But the
best news was that Magnus Smith proposed Capablanca to be the editor of The Chess Weekly
starting in January 1910, while Smith would assume the subordinate position of associate
editor. This was the beginning of a short but fruitful period of professional work as a chess
journalist for the young Cuban master. In the space of 11 weeks Capablanca covered with
his notes all the games of the match for the world championship between Lasker and
Schlechter; wrote one of his few comments about the theory of the openings; analyzed an
ending that seemed to him should be studied by the fans; and even considered worthy of
attention a pair of games of lesser-known players that he thoroughly analyzed for the mag-
azine. But despite such good auspices, The Chess Weekly published its last issue on March
12, 1910.
Capablanca’s editorial adventure did not happen without incident, as Hartwig Cassel
accused him of breach of contract because he did not send to American Chess Bulletin anno-
tated games of his tour, and instead sent them to The Chess Weekly. Capablanca responded
that such obligations were not included in the terms of his tour. At the same time, he
demanded that the American Chess Bulletin pay him for the published games of his match
against Marshall, because, according to the stipulations of the event, the copyright of those
games belonged to both players. Not yet satisfied, the Cuban claimed a monetary compen-
sation as he was not able to give his exhibitions in England, from where he would attend to
other invitations and travel to some European countries before going to the Hamburg tour-
nament in July.
The name of Capablanca was not initially included among the participants of the Ham-
burg tournament, but those of Lasker, Marshall, Tarrasch, Schlechter, Maróczy, Rubinstein
and Janowski were, according to a letter of invitation from James Frankfurter, secretary of
the Hamburg Chess Club, to Marshall, published in the February 1910 issue of the American
Chess Bulletin. The original idea was to call for a select event with a minimum of four and
a maximum of seven participants, all of them with first prizes in major tournaments under
their belts. But the organizers had to soften their demands and increase the number of players
up to 18, although eventually they became 17. Then it was revealed that Frankfurter visited
Lasker at his home in Berlin, but the world champion excused himself from attending the
event, citing a pending trip to the United States and a visit to Buenos Aires, coordinated
with José Pérez Mendoza, one of the driving forces of Argentinian chess. A few weeks after
the meeting with Frankfurter, Lasker revealed that he had suggested to him that Capablanca
should be included in the Hamburg tournament.8
In its final version, the tournament was a great triumph for Schlechter, who accumulated
11½ points out of 16 (71.88 percent) and finished above the Czechoslovakian Oldřich Důras,
with 11; the Latvian Aron Nimzowitsch with 101⁄2; and the Austrian Rudolf Spielmann, with
10. If this event is remembered after more than a century, it is mainly because of the debut
of Alekhine in a master competition. The young Russian finished tied in the seventh and
eighth places with his compatriot Fyodor Dus-Khotimirsky, with a total of 8½ points.
According to The British Chess Magazine, Alekhine and Dus-Khotimirsky were invited to
participate because of the absences of Rubinstein and Capablanca. There is some kind of
mystery in the last-hour absence of Capablanca in the Hamburg tournament, since his name
was even on the list of passengers of the steamer Kaiser Wilhelm II, which departed from
New York to the German city on July 5. The explanation in the August issue of American
Chess Bulletin was that Capablanca, “Although blessed ordinarily with robust health,” was
not able to embark because of a sudden illness. Although details of the illness were never
explained, this raises the question whether the origin of the problems with the Cuban’s blood
pressure really began when he has already more than 40 years of age, or much earlier. A con-
stant that can be seen in the letters of Capablanca to his Cuban friends is that he asked them
not to discuss anything with his family about his health condition. Such details, as well as
his reiterations to his mother that he felt well and she should not be worried, incite us to
think that there was a secret he did not share with his parents. Otherwise, it is difficult to
explain such an insistence to his mother that he was “fine.”
On the other hand, while Lasker recommended the inclusion of Capablanca in the
Hamburg tournament, his attitude towards the Cuban was somewhat ambivalent. Possibly
he felt that although he did not wish to give his views about the Cuban, who was emerging
as a possible future rival, he could not avoid commenting on his skills. As it will be recalled,
when Lasker visited Havana in 1906 and was asked by Juan Corzo to express his views about
the talent of the Cuban, the response of the world champion was not as laudatory as expected
by Capablanca’s childhood rival. Later, when Walter Penn Shipley spoke very highly of the
Cuban, Lasker answered without committing himself: “Your remarks on Capablanca are of
the greatest interest. You have seen the growth of every one of the chess masters who lived
in or visited America, Steinitz, myself, Pillsbury, Marshall and others, and if you judge Capa-
blanca as you do, his career will be brilliant.”9
Ultimately, Capablanca did not participate in many exhibitions in 1910, or at least these
were not reported in the press. The tour, which took place in the last months of 1909,
brought him back to New York in late January of the following year, just in time to participate
in the New York State Association Championship, in which he finished first, tied with the
Belarusian-American Charles Jaffe in the regular competition, but then defeating him in a
short match. This tournament was the first official one for Capablanca in his life (barring
the “Championship of Cuba” of 1902, which was not even played with clocks). This time
nobody argued that he was not the legitimate champion of the state of New York, or at least
of its “Chess Association,” as for that title it was not a requisite to be a citizen of the United
States.
There are some games from this tournament that deserve special mention, such as his
victory against the New York poet Alfred Francis Kreymborg, who played close to the level
of an expert. The game found a place in the books Curso Superior de Ajedrez, published in
Spanish in Argentina in 1930, that contained the lectures the Czechoslovakian Richard
Réti gave in Buenos Aires in 1924, and Capablanca’s Best Chess Endings (Irving Chernev,
1978).
Capablanca–Alfred Francis Kreymborg [D02]

4th Round, New York State Chess Association Championship,
26 February 1910
1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. Bf4 e6 4. e3 c5 4. … Bd6 5. Nbd2 B×f4 6. e×f4 c5 7. d×c5 Qc7
8. g3 Q×c5 9. Bd3 Nc6 10. c3 0–0 11. 0–0 b5 12. Ne5 Bb7 13. Qe2 draw. Rubinstein–Capa-
blanca, London 1922. 5. c3 Nc6 6. Bd3 The modern treatment is 6. Nbd2 Bd6 7. Bg3 0–0
8. Bd3 b6 9. Ne5 Bb7. 6. … Bd6 7. B×d6 Q×d6 8. Nbd2 e5 9. d×e5 N×e5 10. N×e5 Q×e5
11. Bb5+ Bd7 12. Qa4 Qc7 13. 0–0–0 0–0 14. B×d7 N×d7 15. Nf3 Qc6 16. Q×c6 b×c6
17. Nd2 Ne5 18. Kc2 c4 19. Rhf1 f5 20. Nf3 N×f3 21. g×f3 (see diagram)
“It is Black’s move and no doubt thinking that drawing such
a position (that was all Black played for) would be easy, he con- rDwDw4kD
tented himself with a waiting policy. Such conduct must always be 0wDwDw0p
criticized. It often leads to disaster. The best way to defend such wDpDwDwD
positions is to assume the initiative and keep the opponent on DwDpDpDw
the defensive” (Capablanca). 21. … Rae8 Réti said this is a “devel- wDpDwDwD
opment move,” but not an “initiative move,” recommending instead Dw)w)PDw
21. … a5 to fix the White b pawn. 22. Rd4 Rf6 23. b3 c×b3+
P)KDw)w)
DwDRDRDw
24. a×b3 Kf7 25. Kd3 “25. Ra1 should have been played now, in
order to force Black to defend with 25. … Re7. White, however, After 21. g×f3
does not want to disclose his plan at once, and thus awaken Black
to the danger of his position, hence this move, which seems to aim at the disruption of
Black’s queen’s side pawns” (Capablanca). 25. … Re7 26. Ra1 Ke6 “This is a mistake. Black
is not aware of the danger of his position. He should have played 26. … g5 threatening 27. …
Rh6 and by making this demonstration against the White h pawn, stop the attack against
his queen’s side pawns, which will now develop” (Capablanca). 27. Ra6 Rc7 28. Rda4 g5
29. h4! g4 30. Ke2 g×f3+ 31. K×f3 Rff7 32. Ke2 “Probably wrong; 32. b4 at once was the
right move. The text move gives Black good chances of drawing” (Capablanca). 32. … Kd6
33. b4 Rb7 34. h5 “Not good; 34. f4 offered the best chances of winning by force. If then
34. … Rg7 35. h5 Rg2+ 36. Kd3 Rh2 37. R×a7 R×a7 38. R×a7 R×h5 39. Ra6 with winning
chances” (Capablanca). 34. … h6 “Black misses his last chance. 34. … f4 would draw. If then
35. e×f4 Rbe7+ 36. Kf1 R×f4 37. R×a7 Re3!” (Capablanca). 35. f4 Rg7 36. Kd3 Rge7
37. Ra1 Rg7 38. Kd4 Rg2 39. R6a2 Rbg7 40. Kd3 R×a2 41. R×a2 Re7 42. Rg2 Re6
43. Rg7 Re7 44. Rg8 c5 45. Rg6+ Re6 46. b×c5+ Kd7 47. Rg7+ Kc6 48. R×a7 K×c5
49. Rf7 Black resigned. 1–0.
His defeat was a good indicator that Kreymborg was not aware of what was happening
in chess with the arrival of the Cuban, a difficult bit of knowledge for someone who was not
a chess professional. Réti said in one of his efforts collected in Curso Superior de Ajedrez that
Kreymborg’s defeat was due to his following the established concepts, while Capablanca
applied his precocious ideas in an ending that in every way seemed even. In the last round,
against Jaffe, Capablanca tried to carry out again a minimal advantage, and the struggle
resulted in an opposite-colored bishops endgame. Perhaps Capablanca was maneuvering, as
he did with infinite patience on a lot of occasions, for the victory, but the game unnecessarily
lasted 63 moves, when finally the draw was agreed. Things were more lively in the final series
between the two adversaries.
Capablanca–Charles Jaffe [D46]

Match, 1st Game,
New York State Chess Asociation Championship,
5 March 1910
1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. e3 c6 4. c4 e6 5. Nc3 Nbd7 6. Bd3 Bd6 7. 0–0 0–0 8. e4 d×e4
9. N×e4 N×e4 10. B×e4 Nf6 The modern treatment is 10. … h6 11. Bc2 e5 12. Re1 Bb4
13. Bd2 B×d2 14. Q×d2 e×d4 15. Q×d4 Qb6 16. Qc3 a5
rDw1w4wD 17. Rad1 Qb4. 11. Bc2 h6 12. b3 b6 13. Bb2 Bb7 14. Qd3 g6?!
0bDwDpiw What for? Better is 14. … Re8. 15. Rae1 Nh5 16. Bc1 Kg7 (see
w0pgpDp0 diagram) If 16. … Nf4 17. B×f4 B×f4 18. R×e6; If 16. … Bf4
DwDwDwDn 17. R×e6.
wDP)wDwD 17. R×e6! Nf6 18. Ne5! c5 If 18. … f×e6 19. Q×g6+
DPDQDNDw Kh8 20. Q×h6+ Kg8 21. Qg5+ Kh8 22. Qh4+ Kg8 23. Bh6
PDBDw)P) Qc7 24. Qg5+ Kh8 25. Ng6+ Kg8 26. N×f8+ Kf7 27. Qg7+
DwGw$RIw Ke8 28. Bg6+ Kd8 29. N×e6+ winning. 19. B×h6+! K×h6
After 16. … Kg7 20. N×f7+ and mate next move. Black resigned. 1–0.
This defeat left Jaffe in such a state of mind that he failed to go beyond move 25 in the
following game, even while he was playing with the White pieces. Despite Capablanca’s
victory, the year actually had started poorly with the cancellation of the trip to England, a
tour that in the opinion of Czech historian Vlastimil Fiala caused a considerable monetary
loss for Capablanca. According to the British Chess Magazine, his rates for a simultaneous
display in the United States were $25 (about 4 pounds sterling) for a maximum of 25 boards,
and an additional fee for a greater number of participants, as well as the cost of the train
tickets from the last point he had visited, provided they did not exceed $10. Since the tour
of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland had a scheduled duration of a minimum of two
months, it is easy to calculate that he lost $1,500 to $1,800, if one compares the number of
cities visited in North America in a similar period of time in 1909, not even mentioning
other exhibitions that he could have offered in Europe before or after the Hamburg tourna-
ment.
Capablanca always boasted that he was paid in an appropriate manner, a source of pride
for him. In 1932, when a journalist from the Madrid newspaper ABC asked him, “Have you
won lots of money with chess?” he answered without hesitation: “More than anyone”—
although he immediately regretted it: “That does not mean I have won so much, because
no one really wins lots of money with chess.”10
After that missed opportunity, which Capablanca blamed completely on the poor busi-
ness management of the American Chess Bulletin in general, and on Cassel in particular, the
name of the Cuban almost disappeared for the rest of the year. It is known that on March
26 he played a simultaneous display against 30 opponents in the Brooklyn Institute of Arts
and Sciences, with a result of 27 wins, 2 losses and a draw. On another occasion, one of the
knockout blitz tournaments played on April 23, with a significant sum for the winner, Jacob
Rosenthal stood in his way when he drew their game. Since the drawn games could not be
repeated, the winner was randomly decided, something which on this occasion did not favor
the Cuban.
It is also known that he played on May 30 on the second board of the Manhattan Chess
Club (the first was occupied by O.W. Field) in one of the regular matches against the Franklin
Chess Club of Philadelphia, with a victory over Walter Penn Shipley. Then, in a match with
obvious economic purposes, he played a series of seven games giving the advantage of pawn
and move against G.B. Beihof, winning easily by 5½–1½.
A game full of interest took place months later, on October 21 against Herman G.
Voigt, five-time champion of Philadelphia:
Capablanca–Hermann G. Voigt [D53]

Exhibition Game
Philadelphia, 21 October 1910
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 Ne4 As said before, nowadays the Lasker
Variation is played in the following way: 5. … h6 6. Bh4 0–0 7. Nf3 Ne4. 6. B×e7 Q×e7
7. c×d5 N×c3 8. b×c3 e×d5 9. Qb3 c6 10. Nf3 Nd7 11. c4 d×c4 12. B×c4 Nb6 13. 0–0
0–0 14. a4 N×c4 15. Q×c4 Be6 16. Qc3 Bd5 The position is even. 17. Ne5 A new idea.
Earlier, the move 17. Nd2 f5 led to a good game for Black. Villegas–Taubenhaus, Buenos
Aires 1907. 17. … f6 18. Nd3 Qe4 19. Nf4 Rfe8 20. Rab1 Rab8 21. Qa5 Bc4 22. Rfc1 b5?
Better is 22. … Bf7 23. Re1 (if 23. Q×a7 g5 24. Nh3 Bd5 with a clear advantage for Black)
23. … g5 24. Nh3 a6 with a complicated position. 23. a×b5 c×b5 24. Q×a7 Ra8 25. Qc5
Ra2 26. d5 Rd2 27. Ra1 g5? It was better 27. … B×d5 28. Q×b5 Bf7. 28. Nh5 Qg6 29. g4
Kh8 (see diagram)
30. R×c4! b×c4 31. Q×c4 Rb2 32. Ra7 Stronger is wDwDrDwi
32. Qd4 Reb8 33. N×f6 Rb1+ 34. Kg2 R×a1 35. Q×a1 Qg7 DwDwDwDp
36. d6. 32. … Qb1+ 33. Kg2 Rb4 Black missed a big opportunity wDwDw0qD
with 33. … Reb8 34. Qd4 R×f2+ 35. K×f2 Rb2+ 36. Q×b2 Dp!PDw0N
Q×b2+ 37. Kf3 Kg8 38. d6 Qe5 39. Rg7+Kf8 40. d7 Qd5+ wDbDwDPD
41. Ke2 Qc4+ and it is a draw. 34. R×h7+! Q×h7 35. Q×b4 DwDw)wDw
Qf7 36. Qd4 Re5 37. e4 Qe7 38. d6 and Voigt has no defense. wDw4w)w)
If 38. … Qf8 39. d7 Qd8 40. N×f6 Re7 41. Qd5 winning. Black $w$wDwIw
resigned. 1–0. After 29. … Kh8
Capablanca played from October 3 to November 15 a very little-known match of six

games against Marshall, with a forced line of the Max Lange attack: 1. e4 e5 2. d4 d×d4
3. Nf3 Nc6 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. Nce4 0–0–0 12. N×e6 f×e6 13. g4 Qe5 14. f×g7 Rhg8 15. Bh6, a novelty that Mar-
shall analyzed thoroughly. Capablanca, always playing with the Black pieces, lost 3 games,
won 2 and drew 1, according to Di Felice in Chess Results, 1901–1920 (page 148). The match
was sponsored by Professor Rice, who was impressed by the victory of Marshall against Tar-
rasch in Hamburg with the use of 15. Bh6, but was not exactly a theoretical dispute as was
the Steinitz–Chigorin cable match of 1891. This was another indication that Capablanca
found a good reception among chess patrons, who paid him for exhibitions of this kind
or for private meetings, although he always provided very little information about such
affairs.
These endeavors helped his bearing and his elegant way of dressing, because it is invari-
ably cited that he was a well dressed man, never seen with wrinkled or disheveled clothes.
He attended to his exhibits, whether public or private, as a famous director of an art show
of the higher category had done: dress meticulously, always perfectly shaved, often wrapped
in the fragrance of expensive perfumes and occasionally even wearing a tux. Some of these
things he probably learned from his father, who as an assistant of high-ranking officers always
had to show a dignified presence and attentive personal care, as well as a military uniform
without spots. Capablanca understood that he had to be wrapped in an aura of great majesty
to cope with his performances among the American elite. And with this he raised not only
his profile, but that of the chess professional in general.
Capablanca’s college roommate Bernard Epstein wrote in 1943 in a letter to Olga
Chagodaef: “He was of medium height, lean, but no padding needed for his shoulders. And
such pride in the posture of his head! You would know no one could dingle-dangle that
man. I can visualize him so clearly, with his dark hair and large gray-green eyes. Believe me,
when he took a stroll, in his black derby hat and carrying a cane, no handsomer young gen-
tleman ever graced Fifth Avenue” (Figueredo-Romero Archives).
We have an example of Capablanca’s frequent visits to important figures of New York’s
intellectual landscape a few years later at the home of violinist and music professor of Rus-
sian origin Marc (also Mark) Fonaroff. During the visit a game (see below) was played—
informal, but captivating by its simple aesthetic impression; it has been included in numerous
anthologies. And it is interesting that what was an instant inspiration has been subject to
meticulous analysis for nearly a century. The first who understood the artistic beauty of the
game was Hermann Helms, who included it in the New York Evening Post of Saturday, June
22, 1918:
A lightweight classic that will take rank with some of Paul Morphy’s was produced by José R.
Capablanca Tuesday [ June 18], when, as a guest at a soirée in the apartments of Prof. Marc
Fonaroff, of the New York Institute of Musical Art, he played a game of chess against that master
musician. There was present a notable group of artists, including Tosha [Toscha] Seidel, the
violin prodigy, who, like Mischa Elman, is very fond of chess, and Mr. and Mrs. Leon Rosen,
who, fortunately, took and preserved the score for the benefit of posterity.
Capablanca–Marc Fonaroff [C66]

Casual Game, New York, 18 June 1918
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 d6 5. d4 Bd7 6. Nc3 Be7 7. Re1 e×d4 8. N×d4
N×d4 Nowadays the main line is 8. … 0–0 9. B×c6 b×c6 10. Qd3
Re8 11. b3 Bf8 12. Bb2 c5 13. Nf3 Bc6 14. Rad1 h6 15. e5! with wDwDw4kD
advantage to White. Nunn–Portisch, Budapest 1986. 9. Q×d4 0p1wDp0p
B×b5 10. N×b5 0–0 11. Qc3 c6 A possibility is 11. … a6 12. Nd4 wDpDwDwD
Nd7 13. Nf5! Bf6 14. Qb4 Qc8 15. Bd2 Vescovi–Milos, São Paulo DwDwgNDw
2004, and now Black could equalize with 15. … Nc5 16. Bc3 Qe6. wDwDPDwD
12. Nd4 Nd7 Not 12. … d5? 13. Nf5! with a big advantage. DwDwDw!w
13. Nf5 Bf6 14. Qg3 Ne5 15. Bf4 Qc7 16. Rad1 Rad8 17. R×d6 P)PDw)P)
R×d6 18. B×e5 Rd1 This loses and in a pretty way. Better is DwDRDwIw
18. … Qa5! 19. Bc3 B×c3 20. b×c3 Rg6 21. Ne7+ Kh8 22. N×g6+ After 19. … B×e5
h×g6 23. Qd6 Kg8 24. Qb4 Q×a2 25. Q×b7 Q×c2 26. Q×c6 a5
and the passed a pawn gives Black compensation for his pawn down. 19. R×d1 B×e5 (see
diagram)
20. Nh6+ Kh8 21. Q×e5 Q×e5 22. N×f7+ Black resigned. 1–0.
In the accounting of possibilities not fulfilled is this: at the end of summer, 1910, Capa-
blanca wrote to León Paredes in Cuba to tell him that in New York they expected the arrival
of Schlechter in the fall, so some efforts were made to celebrate a match between him and
the Austrian. Therefore, Capablanca asked the secretary of the Havana Chess Club to explore
the possibilities of a short competition with the Viennese master during the next Antillean
winter. In another part of the letter Capablanca showed his affection for baseball: “Tell
Víctor Muñoz if he comes to the baseball games between the Chicago Cubs and the Philadel-
phia Athletics to write me if he wants to, because maybe I’m going to see them play in
Philadelphia.”
The answer from Cuba was not positive regarding to the series with Schlechter. Paredes
replied: “During my enquiries to see what could be done with Schlechter, two hurricanes
surprised us last month and after them, there are only crying and so much misery that we
do not know how it will be remedied.” He added:
Now, I am moving on the suggestion and I believe that I will get my goal so that the City Coun-
cil gives me two thousand pesos [Cubans spoke indistinguishably of pesos and dollars, which
then had the same value] for your match with Lasker if he beats Janowski or if the latter ended
up victorious, something I do not expect. With two thousand pesos of the City Council and
something (about 500 or 600) that we can muster with a theatrical event, you could play a
match here, or at least part of the match; I think that it should be for at least five games won
(excluding draws). Anyway, I wait for your impressions on this proposition while the issue with
the City Council is resolved.
Capablanca responded on November 27: “I ask you to personally communicate with

Dr. Lasker and when he answers, please inform me about his conditions. I am willing to play
under any reasonable condition unless he intends to take everything for himself and humiliate
me, as once was the case. You should know that the Franklin Chess Club of Philadelphia
offered to pay Dr. Lasker 250 pesos for a single game and the doctor dared to offer me 50
pesos: obviously, I declined the offer.”11 All this failed, and with Schlechter absent, because
ultimately he did not go to the United States, Capablanca decided to start another tournée
in the last days of November which lasted until January 11, 1911. Once more, the results were
very good: 234 victories including many games against first-class players, with only 8 defeats
and 12 draws.
The American Chess Bulletin ( January 1911, page 9) mentioned the most recent tour
of the Cuban, which initially led him to Schenectady, Buffalo and Detroit. Then Chicago,
Milwaukee, and Minneapolis: “Powerful opposition met him in Chicago (November 28)
where he faced 28 players, winning 20, losing 3 and drawing 5 in two hours and thirty min-
utes,” reported the magazine. Before the tour, Capablanca and Marshall had already received
the official invitation to participate in the international tournament of San Sebastián, in the
Basque Country, Spain.
Capablanca returned to Cuba for Christmas and the gathering together of the family,
which was becoming an inviolable annual ritual. After the holidays, he embarked aboard the
steamer Chalmette on January 11 to New Orleans, where he arrived two days later. In that
trip Capablanca registered himself on board the ship as a “Chess player,” instead of “Student,”
a designation he would use in 1911 and 1912. After that time he identified his profession in
varied ways: Editor, 1912; Landlord, 1913; Consular Service, 1918; Cuban Official, 1919; Chess
Champion, 1925; Proprietor, 1925; Land Owner, 1925; Head of Information, 1929; Special
Mission, 1931; Diplomat Tour, 1934; Government Official, 1938; and the most widely used
of all, Diplomat, with different variants depending on his destination, such as Cuban Legation
London in 1931 and 1936.12 However, one can only imagine the astonishment of the New
Orleans customs officer who fifteen years later reviewed the list of passengers of the steam
ship Abangarez that had arrived in that city on May 7, 1926, and saw in front of him a man
of 37 years of age, and healthy appearance, who to the question “Profession?” replied:
“Retired.”
For his plans for the end of 1910 and early 1911 Capablanca created an itinerary adjusted
so as to force him to request a special schedule in the American National Tournament which
was granted to him with a bye in the first round of the competition. The event began on
January 22, 1911, in New York, at a time when the Cuban was traveling on an eastbound
train for Manhattan from Indianapolis, where on January 21 he faced and defeated 24 rivals
in a simultaneous exhibition, his last one in the winter season 1910-1911.
As occurred later in many competitions, Capablanca began the New York event inac-
curately. In the fourth round (his third game of the tournament) perhaps he considered that
anything would be sufficient to win with the White pieces against Roy T. Black. This player,
of the same age as the Cuban (22 years), had already been Brooklyn chess champion twice
and would be five more times in the upcoming years. Capablanca played the Wing Gambit
against the Sicilian Defense of his adversary. Against an attack not played in the best way
by the Cuban, Black defended in an efficient manner and won a surprise victory that the
New York Times highlighted in its edition of January 26, with the headline: “Capablanca
Loses at Chess.”
This is perhaps one of the games (see below) that subsequently made Capablanca speak
against all kinds of juggling and gambits that do not conform to rationality. The unexpected
defeat can be blamed also on the fact that at that time, though a veteran of blitz games, the
Cuban had very little experience in formal meetings. As even distinguished masters have
realized in practice, blitz games are a double-edged weapon. They are good for developing
tactical vision and can be a useful weapon to practice openings, but can also ruin the devel-
opment of some talented chess players. That defeat was the first of Capablanca’s in an official
tournament with the White pieces. At the end of his life, his total failures when he opened
a game were exceptionally low: 11 defeats in a total of 613 games in official tournaments,
matches or short series, excluding the encounters against Corzo in 1901–1902, for a very
low average of 1.79 per cent. The last defeat of Capablanca with the White pieces occurred
against Sir George Thomas during the ninth round of the tournament of Margate, England,
in 1935, that cost him the first prize of the tournament, half a point behind Reshevsky. After
that defeat the Cuban played 103 more official games and did not lose any when he had
White.
After six rounds Capablanca barely had 3½ points after drawing his game against Mar-
shall. But then he obtained 7½ of 8 (including six consecutive victories in the last rounds),
ending in second place with 9½, half a point behind Marshall. The result, in addition to a
cash payment of $125 (currently equally to about $1,800), served as important preparation
for the Spanish event in San Sebastián. Some of the games of this tournament are instructive,
as is the following one against William G Morris, despite the fact that he played it with few
hours of rest, because he had arrived in Manhattan in the early hours of the morning of Jan-
uary 23, the same day that this game was played. It was an elegant positional victory that
finished off with one of his typical petite combinaisons.
Capablanca–William G. Morris [C10]

1st Round, American National Tournament,
New York, 23 January 1911
1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 e6 3. Nc3 d5 4. e×d5 e×d5 5. d4 Nf6 6. Bg5 Be6 7. B×f6 White can
also play 7. Be2 Nbd7 8. 0–0 Bd6 9. d×c5 B×c5 10. Nd4 0–0 11. Re1 a6 12. Bf3 with advan-
tage. Gruenfeld–Golubeva, Albena 2011. 7. … g×f6 Better is 7. … Q×f6. 8. d×c5 B×c5
9. Bb5+ Nc6 10. 0–0 0–0 11. Qd3 Qd6 12. B×c6 b×c6 13. Na4
Bb6 14. N×b6 a×b6 15. Rfe1 c5 16. Re3 Qf4 17. c3 Rfd8 18. a3 wDrDwDri
Bf5 19. Qb5 Maybe better is 19. Qd2. 19. … Qd6 better is 19. … DwDqDpDp
d4 20. c×d4 c×d4 21. Qb4 Rac8 22. Ne1 Bg6 with an equal game. wDwDw0wD
20. Rd1 Rac8 21. Qa4 c4? Conceding the square d4. Better is DpDpDbDw
21. … Ra8 22. Qb3 Qc6 23. Rde1 Bg6 and White has only a very wDpHwDw$
small advantage. 22. Rd4 b5 23. Qd1 Kh8 24. Rh4 Rg8 25. Nd4 )w)w$wDw
Qd7 (see diagram) w)wDw)P)
26. Re7! Black resigned. If 26. … Q×e7 27. N×f5 Qe5 DwDQDwIw
28. R×h7+K×h7 29. Qh5 mate. 1–0 After 25. … Qd7
Capablanca–Roy T. Black [B20]

3rd Round, American National Tournament,
1. e4 c5 2. b4 c×b4 3. a3 b×a3 4. B×a3 d6 5. Nf3 Nc6 6. d4 g6 7. h4?! Bg4 8. c3 Bg7
9. Nbd2 Nf6 10. Qb3 Qb6 11. Qa2 B×f3 12. g×f3 Nh5 13. Nc4 Qc7 14. Bc1 0–0 15. Rb1
Kh8 Intending 16. … f5. 16. Bh3 b6 17. Bg4 Nf6 18. Ne3 Maybe 18. h5. 18. … h5 19. Bh3
Na5 20. Bd2 Bh6 21. Rc1 Kh7 22. c4 Nb7 Better is 22. … Nc6. 23. Nf5?! Better is 23. Nd5!
23. … Ng8 24. N×h6 N×h6 25. B×h6? Better is 25. Qa3 e5
26. Qe3 Ng8 27. Rg1. 25. … K×h6 26. Qd2+ Kh7 27. f4 e5 rDwDwDwD
28. f×e5 d×e5 29. d5 Nc5 Now Black is winning. 30. Qe2 Qe7 0wDwDpiw
31. Bf5 Kg7 32. Rc3 Rh8 33. Rg3 Rh6 34. Qe3 Qf6 35. Rhg1 w0wDw1p4
(see diagram) DwhP0BDp
35. … Kh7 But not 35. … Q×h4? 36. Q×h6+!! K×h6 wDPDPDw)
37. R×g6+ f×g6 38. R×g6+ Kh7 39. Rg4+ Kh8 40. R×h4 Nd3+ DwDw!w$w
41. Kd2 Nf4 42. d6 Kg7 43. Kc3 Kf6 44. Rh1 and the endgame wDwDw)wD
leads to a draw. 36. Rg5 g×f5 37. R×f5 Qe7 38. Qf3 f6 39. R×h5 DwDwIw$w
Nd3+ 40. Kd1 Nf4 41. R×h6+ K×h6 42. Qg3 Rc8 43. Qc3 After 35. Rhg1
Qc5 White resigned. 0–1.
On February 8, 1911, aboard the steamship Lusitania, Capablanca departed for the first
time to Europe, via England, bound for San Sebastián. When the American Chess Bulletin
included in its issue of February 1911 (page 31) a comment prior to the start of the Spanish
tournament, it mentioned that the invitation was made by “M. Marquet of the Grand Casino,
also known in connection with the Kursaal at Ostend….” This was the name of a person who
had already appeared years before in the Lasker’s Chess Magazine (August 1905) and also in
the magazine American Chess Amateur (December 1906) as a patron of the tournament in
Ostend, Belgium.
Surprisingly enough, the same name appeared as a participant in one of the crosstables
of the Paris 1900 tournament, instead of the Cuban Manuel Márquez Sterling, well known
in the Havana chess circles as one of the main sponsors of the local club. Why this mix of
names? The key is simple: M. Marquet and M. Márquez (Sterling) were the same person.
The reason why Márquez Sterling made this change of surnames is not known with certainty.
It is possible that it was a pseudonym he used to camouflage his participation, first as a player
in the Paris tournament, and then as a patron, both in Ostend and San Sebastián. In any case,
he achieved his purpose, as the mystery persists until today. The press in Cuba never discussed
the issue, and it is even possible that neither Juan Corzo nor José A. Gelabert ever knew it.
If it is currently known that it was Márquez Sterling, lessee of the San Sebastián Gran
Casino, who actually invited Capablanca to the San Sebastián tournament, it is because the
Argentinian writer and chess journalist Paulino Alles Monasterio revealed the matter in a
book published in 1978 on the 1927 Alekhine–Capablanca match.13 In this work, Alles
Monasterio left no doubt over the true identity of the enigmatic “M. Marquet,” as the same
Márquez Sterling told him the details of the letter of invitation to Capablanca, without
explaining the reasons for his undercover role. Márquez Sterling was, along with Andrés
Clemente Vázquez, one of the more colorful figures in Cuban chess, both at the time of the
memorable world championships at the end of the 19th century, and at the beginning of the
20th century. In several countries in which he lived in addition to Cuba, such as Mexico,
Spain and Argentina, Márquez Sterling was a tireless promoter of the game and published
several magazines about chess.
For example, in Argentina, Márquez Sterling edited one of the issues of the Revista del
Club Argentino de Ajedrez; in Mexico, he financed the publication of the El Arte de Philidor,
the monthly magazine of the Veracruz chess club; and in Spain he published the Revista Inter-
nacional de Ajedrez, as well as the book Tratado Analítico del Juego de Ajedrez. Other books
or brochures that saw the light through his efforts were: La Estrategia Moderna and Páginas
de Ajedrez. The universe of Márquez Sterling’s activities went far beyond chess; for example,
as ambassador of Cuba in Mexico, he tried with no success to save the life of President Fran-
cisco Madero, deposed in 1913 in General Victoriano Huerta’s coup d’état. Márquez Sterling
recollected those events in his memorable book Los Últimos Días del Presidente Madero.
New York 1911

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
1 Marshall, Frank J. • ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 10
2 Capablanca, J. R. ½ • ½ ½ 1 1 0 1 1 1 1 1 1 91⁄2
3 Chajes, Oscar ½ ½ • 1 0 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 ½ 9 49.25
4 Jaffe, Charles 0 ½ 0 • 1 1 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 9 43.00
5 Johner, Paul F. ½ 0 1 0 • 0 1 1 0 0 1 1 1 61⁄2 32.50
6 Walcott, George H. 0 0 0 0 1 • 1 1 0 ½ 1 1 1 61⁄2 27.25
7 Black, Roy Turnbull 0 1 0 0 0 0 • 1 0 0 1 1 1 5 23.00
8 Smith, Murray 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 • 1 1 1 1 1 5 17.50
9 Hodges, Albert 0 0 ½ 0 1 1 1 0 • ½ ½ 0 0 41⁄2 26.25
10 Tennenwurzel, E. 0 0 0 ½ 1 ½ 1 0 ½ • 0 ½ ½ 41⁄2 24.25
11 Kreymborg, Alfred ½ 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 1 • 0 1 3 14.25
12 Baird, David G. 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 ½ 1 • ½ 3 11.00
13 Morris, William G 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 0 0 1 ½ 0 ½ • 21⁄2
In 1900 Márquez Sterling accompanied Gonzalo de Quesada, who was designated head
of the delegation by the U.S. Provisional Military Government in Cuba, to the Paris Universal
Fair. Márquez Sterling took advantage of the opportunity to participate in the interna-
tional chess tournament played as part of the event. In later years he lived in Buenos Aires,
where he served first as Cuba’s Consul General. He returned to Europe in 1909, where he
served as a Cuban diplomat and was at the same time a private entrepreneur in the business
of importing products from the island as well as of exporting European goods. So exten-
sive was his economic influence in Belgium that Alles Monasterio did not hesitate to
categorize him as a kind of éminence grise behind the throne of the Kingdom. It is not uncom-
mon that his extraordinary love of chess would lead him to finance the three tournaments
held in Ostend in 1905, 1906 and 1907, as well as San Sebastián, where purses offered
were rated as “very liberal” by the editors of Chess Amateur in December 1906 and
in Lasker’s Chess Magazine of August 1905 (page 166): “When the prizes were distributed
at Ostend, the donor of the bulk of the prize fund, M. Marquet, stated that he was will-
ing to contribute 20,000 francs [$4,400 in 2015] for another masters tournament next
year….”
In January 1934, when the government of Cuban President Ramón Grau San Martín
and, less than three days after, the interim President Carlos Hevia were forced to step down,
Márquez Sterling, who was at the same time secretary of state and Cuba’s ambassador in
Washington, was one of the key figures who found a solution that avoided a conflict of major
proportions on the island. On that occasion, his unexpected and timely return from the
United States determined that many organizations that were about to face each other
with weapons reached the consensus of naming him president of Cuba. As secretary of
state, he was the successor to the president at a time in which there was not a vice-presi-
dent or a leader of the Congress. His specific mandates were the assumption of the presi-
dency and, from that position, to appoint a successor capable of uniting all the struggling
groups.
Márquez Sterling gave a demonstration of his political acuity when he solved the prob-
lem in less than six hours by selecting Colonel Carlos Mendieta as a new president, who had
the support of Sergeant Fulgencio Batista, the man with the real control of the reins in Cuba,
the real power behind the throne until 1940, when Batista was democratically elected pres-
ident for four years. Later, in 1952, Batista ousted the constitutional government and opened
the door for Fidel Castro’s revolution in 1959. Márquez Sterling resigned as president after
his selection of Mendieta and also resigned as secretary of state—a position which Cosme
de la Torriente reoccupied—and reinstated himself as ambassador of Cuba in Washington,
where he died on December 9, 1934.14 Some may think it is impossible to discover after so
many years who really wrote the invitations, but implicitly the British Chess Magazine (April
1911, page 156) recognized it was Márquez Sterling: “The tournament [was] inaugurated by
the enterprise of Mr. Marquet in advertisement of the casino at San Sebastián.” The only
ones who were invited but did not participate were Emanuel Lasker and the British Henry
E. Atkins.
Capablanca, in My Chess Career, does not seem aware of the hidden hand of Márquez
Sterling: “The conditions of this tournament made it the best that could be had. It was lim-
ited to those players who had won at least two third prizes in previous first-class international
tournaments. An exception was made with respect to me, because of my victory over Mar-
shall.” The convening of the meeting in San Sebastián was something unexpected, since
Spain had been away from major tournaments of the royal game for centuries. An event of
this magnitude had not occurred there since 1575, when King Felipe II donated a prize of
a thousand ducats ($3,600 in 2015) for a competition in which the universal supremacy of
Spanish versus Italian players should be settled.
In the 1911 meeting, Spain was not represented, and that gave special significance to
the presence of Capablanca, who, coming from the last Spanish colony in America, had
Spanish nationality by birth. This is the explanation usually given for his invitation
(but also his victory over Marshall). The list of participants was headed by the Austrian
Schlechter, who just a few months earlier had tied a dramatic match with the champion
of the world, and included another player of enormous strength, Akiva Rubinstein, 15
who had been ruthless with those who had challenged him to a match, such as Marshall,
Mieses and the Polish-Russian Gerz (Georg) Salwe, all of whom he defeated by a large mar-
gin.
Nor could the Hungarian Maróczy be ignored, because of his notable successes in the
early years of the century. These were the favorites, but there were also three other masters
who had enough merit to contend with Lasker in recent matches for the world crown: Sieg-
bert Tarrasch, winner of numerous international competitions; Dawid Janowski, who two
years earlier had tied a short series with Lasker; and Marshall, the so-called “Hero of Cam-
bridge Springs.”
Specially invited were four other masters: the Ukrainian-Russian-French Ossip Bern-
stein, the Latvian Aron Nimzowitsch, the Austrian Rudolf Spielmann, and the Slovene Milan
Vidmar. The list of participants was completed with such established figures as the English-
man Amos Burn, the Czech Oldřich Důras, and two Germans, Paul S. Leonhardt and
Richard Teichmann. There are some versions saying that before the beginning of the event,
a few players, like Bernstein and Nimzowitsch, tried to keep Capablanca out of the tourna-
ment, considering him the product of an advertising campaign by American newspapers,
and even sent a written objection to the organizers, and it was Marshall who successfully
lobbied to allow Capablanca to participate. However, this author could not find any written
reference to objections from Bernstein or Nimzowitsch, nor to Marshall’s defense of
Capablanca, in the texts he has consulted, such as My Fifty Years of Chess by Marshall, My
Chess Career by Capablanca, and the book of the event, Tournoi d’Échecs de Saint Sébastien
by Mieses and Dr. M. Lewitt, or dozens of chess magazines from 1911. Anyway, disputing
someone’s right to participate in a chess tournament has apparently had an unfortunate his-
tory. For example, Tarrasch objected in 1910 to the entry of Frederick D. Yates at Hamburg,
arguing he was far from strong enough for the event. It is true that the Englishman finished
last in the tournament and won only one game, but it was a well-played one against Tar-
rasch!
The actions of the tournament began on February 20 in the Grand Casino of San
Sebastián, on the beach of La Concha. The casino had been inaugurated in 1897, but the
military junta of the Prime Minister Miguel Primo de Rivera would close it in 1924, when
gambling was banned in Spain. The magnificent building would reopen its doors in 1947
as the City Hall. On one occasion Mieses supposedly asked Capablanca why he did not gam-
ble in the casino like the rest of the players in the tournament, and the Cuban answered: “I
do not need to do that!” Or as Lasker said: “Gambling has its root in a weakness of the intel-
lect.”
In San Sebastián the first opponent Capablanca faced was Bernstein.
Capablanca–Ossip S. Bernstein [C66]

1st Round, San Sebastián, 20 February 1911
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 Be7 5. Nc3 d6 6. B×c6+ b×c6 7. d4 e×d4
8. N×d4 Bd7 9. Bg5 0–0 10. Re1 h6 11. Bh4 Nh7 Or 11. … Re8 12. Qd3 Nh7 13. Bg3 Nf8
14. Rad1 Bf6 15. Rd2 Qb8 16. f4? B×d4+ 17. Q×d4 Q×b2 18. Rb1 Qa3 19. Rb3 Qa5 20. f5
Rab8 21. Qd3 R×b3 22. c×b3 Bc8 23. Bf4 Nd7 24. g4 Nf6 25. g5 h×g5 26. B×g5 Qe5 27. Re2
Nd7 28. Rg2 Nc5 29. Qf3 B×f5! 30. Q×f5 (if 30. e×f5 Qe1+ 31. Qf1 Q×c3 winning) 30. …
Q×c3 31. Rf2 f6 32. Qg6 Qe1+ (0–1). Colle–Capablanca, Hastings 1919. 12. B×e7 Q×e7
13. Qd3 Rab8 14. b3 Ng5 15. Rad1 Qe5 16. Qe3 Ne6 17. Nce2 Qa5 Better is 17. … N×d4
18. Q×d4 Q×d4 19. N×d4 c5 20. Nf3 ½–½. Casal Roses–Olivera Medrano, Havana
2009. 18. Nf5 Nc5 If 18. … Q×a2 19. Qc3 Qa3 20. Ra1 Qc5 21. Q×c5 N×c5 22. R×a7 with
a small advantage for White. 19. Ned4 Kh7 20. g4? Better is 20. Qg3 g6 21. Ne7 Rbe8 with
an even game (Tarrasch). For example: 22. Nd×c6 Qb6 23. Nd5 Q×c6 24. Nf6+ Kh8 25. Qe3
g5 26. Qc3 Re5 27. N×d7 Q×d7 28. b4 Rfe8 29. b×c5 Qc6. 20. … Rbe8 21. f3 Ne6 22. Ne2
Or 22. a4 N×d4 23. Q×d4 B×f5 24. g×f5 Qb6 with an even game. 22. … Q×a2 23. Neg3
23. Qc3 Qa6 24. Nf4 Qb6+ 25. Kh1 Qc5 26. Qb2 f6 27. Nh5 a5 is a little better for Black.
23. … Q×c2 Em. Lasker proposed 23. … f6 24. Nh5 Rf7. But after 25. Qc3 Qa6 26. Ra1
Qb6+ 27. Kg2 Ref8 28. Qd2 Kg8 White is better. 24. Rc1 Qb2 25. Nh5 Rh8? Better is
25. … g5! 26. h4 Qe5 27. h×g5 h×g5 28. Re2 Kg6 29. Rh2 Rh8
30. Rcc2 Nf4 and Black is better. 26. Re2 Qe5 27. f4 Qb5 (see wDwDrDw4
diagram) 0w0bDp0k
28. Nf×g7! Nc5 If 28. … N×g7 29. Nf6+ Kg6 30. N×d7 f6 wDp0nDw0
31. e5 Kf7 32. N×f6 Re7 33. Ne4 winning (Capablanca). If 28. … DqDwDNDN
Rd8 29. N×e6 f×e6 30. Rf2 Rdf8 31. e5 Rhg8 32. h3 Rg6 33. Qc3 wDwDP)PD
and White is winning; if 28. … Reg8 29. Rg2 Nc5 30. Nf5 B×f5 DPDw!wDw
31. e×f5 Qb6 32. Nf6+ Kg7 33. Qe7 Rb8 34. g5 Nd3+ 35. Kf1 wDwDRDw)
h5 36. g6 and White is winning. 29. N×e8 B×e8 30. Qc3 f6 Dw$wDwIw
31. N×f6+ Kg6 32. Nh5 Rg8 33. f5+ Kg5 34. Qe3+ Definitive. After 27. … Qb5
If … Kh4 35. Qg3+ Kg5 36. h4 mate. Black resigned. 1–0.
As with the aforementioned game ( January 25) against Roy T. Black, this is another
important example in the development of Capablanca, because it shows that his plans were
more intuitive than based on specific calculations at this point in his career. This sometimes
led him to aggressive bursts not properly controlled. At another stage of his life, Capablanca
would have consolidated his position first and then had safely continued preparations for
the assault. New annotations made to this game show that Bernstein had at hand resources
that were perhaps difficult to discover in a game controlled by the burden of time and emo-
tions.
It is interesting that Lasker, who commented from Berlin on the game against Bernstein
in his column on March 25 in the New York Evening Post, defended the conduct of actions
by the Cuban:
The combination that Capablanca made in his first victory at San Sebastián, against Dr. Bern-
stein, has been greatly underrated. The critics did not do what I consider to be their duty. With-
out investigation they assumed that Bernstein had made the best move and think he lost nastily,
that the combination was a superficial one. In this way they fail to do justice to its profundity. In
fact, the combination has many branches. Doctor Bernstein selected a weak defense which gave
Capablanca no opportunity of continuing his game in the brilliant style that he must have
planned, and it is therefore plainly the office of the critics to resurrect Capablanca’s idea, which
through the fault of his opponent has failed to come to maturity.
The game earned Capablanca the brilliancy prize of the tournament, which was accom-
panied by 500 gold francs donated for the last time to the cause of the beautiful game by
the Viennese banker Albert Salomon von Rothschild, who died shortly before the beginning
of the competition. Capablanca wrote that after this victory everybody began to look at him
with greater respect. The Cuban also told in My Chess Career about the famous incident
with Nimzowitsch, which has been cited hundreds of times in books and magazines, but a
repetition is unavoidable:
Niemzowitch [sic], who considered himself very superior to me and others in the Tournament,
became very arrogant during the course of one of his lightning games against Bernstein, saying
because of the remark that I made, that I should not interfere in their game, as they were reputed
masters and I had yet to become one. The outcome of this discourteous remark was a series of
quick games for a side bet, which I won with ridiculous ease.16
Because of the clear superiority of the Cuban in blitz games, Nimzowitsch retracted
the statement he had previously made in reference to the Cuban, while the rest of the par-
ticipants in the competition agreed that the Antillean had not even a shadow of a rival in
that mode of chess. Perhaps none of them suspected that blitz games were an important way
of earning a living for Capablanca during his chess evolution in New York. But not all was
quarrels with the participants in the tournament. It was natural that a young man taking
part in his first international tournament would feel impressed with such a concentration
of legendary figures. Spielmann in one of his chronicles for the Vienna press said that Capa-
blanca was seen alone in the early days of the event.
But in his last radio talk, February 19, 1942, later published in English in 1966 as “Last
Lectures,” the Cuban mentioned how the various participants of the tournament, especially
Teichmann, Schlechter, Maróczy and Tarrasch, were attentive to him, helping him with
assessments of the styles of the other masters. Capablanca apparently developed a special
relationship with Teichmann, a good-natured man despite his fierce appearance, produced
by a patch over his right eye. Capablanca explained in another article on his memories of
San Sebastián 1911, which appeared in the July 22, 1916, issue of the New York Evening Post:
“As a result of an explosion, Teichmann lost the sight of one eye. And I recall with what
amusement, in the midst of a brilliant gathering at Petrograd, we received the observation
of a spectator that, if Teichmann could see so much in chess with one eye, what might he be
capable of if he possessed two?”
The Cuban mentioned in the same article Teichmann’s playing strength:
Richard Teichmann is a player who combines the qualities of both Lasker and Tarrasch. Like
Lasker, Teichmann has Bohemian tendencies. He is an accomplished linguist; cannot extend
himself to his best effort unless his whiskey and soda are at close call; and is clever at all games of
cards and billiards. Work is no virtue with him, despite his massive bulk. As soon as his money is
gone, he sets about to play chess. … Chess to Teichmann is a pastime pure and simple. He is a
keen student of the game, but plays it mostly for the pleasure that a pastime gives. He is one of
those erratic players. When he has the upper hand, his play is of the most masterly kind, but at
other times he is weak. Like Lasker, he does not find it necessary to come prepared. But on
account of his peculiar indifference, and his disinclination to disturb the serenity of his tempera-
ment, he frequently contents himself with a draw.
In his radio talks already mentioned, Capablanca said that Teichmann warned him
about the strength of the Hungarian Géza Maróczy, whom the Cuban deeply esteemed: “Be
careful and think well when you have to play against him; Maróczy is a very deep player,
mostly in the endgame. When he is in good form, he is a contender one must be cautious
about in this kind of tournament.”
Rubinstein, 28 years old, was also a special case. From the time he arrived to San
Sebastián until he left, he did not speak with anyone, except for some comments on the
games. Usually, he did not leave his room. He could be seen only during the tournament
itself. During the games he would make his move, and then go sit in a place distant from the
playing tables, because he did not want to disturb his opponent. Despite his extremely
reserved nature, Rubinstein had several exchanges with Capablanca. In Capablanca’s analysis
of the players who participated in the tournament, published in April 25, 1912, of Capablanca
Magazine, he recalled: “[W]hen I was in San Sebastián in the year 1911 and entertained
myself playing blitz games against Dr. Bernstein, his countryman [Rubinstein] always came
to watch the clash, often making the observation that I possessed a superior tactic than every-
body; a clear evidence of the modesty of the great Russian master.”17 On another occasion,
as Rubinstein watched the Cuban defeating other masters at rapid transit, he told him: “You
do not make mistakes,” the same thing Lasker told Capablanca in 1914.
Capablanca heard Rubinstein’s voice again when he was told that the endgame the
Cuban adjourned against Janowski was a draw after the latter’s blunder on move 53 with …
Qe1+?, instead of … Qh1+, which was also the opinion of the remaining players in the tour-
nament. When Rubinstein first traveled to New York in 1928, Capablanca visited him at his
hotel in an unusual courtesy among opponents in chess.
Meanwhile, Nimzowitsch, who was then 23 years old, was already displaying a ver-
sion of the paranoia in the making that he would develop years later. He had various nervous
tics, and when the slightest noise occurred, he complained with fury to the competition
directors, who often did not know how to get rid of him. He threw withering looks at his
rivals when he suspected that they had deliberately bumped the game table, and he sincerely
believed he was called to be the next champion of the world. It is a very famous anecdote
that when he realized he was going to lose against the German Friedrich Sämisch in a rapid
transit tournament in Berlin, which was going to cost him first place, he climbed up to a
table and shouted: “Gegen diesen Idioten muss ich verloren!” (Often rendered in English
as a question: Why must I lose against this idiot?).18
On the other hand, Nimzowitsch was very kind with the rivals he defeated, often giving
them words of praise. Dr. Angel Albear, a Cuban chess director, was present when Capablanca
told a goup of friends in a Swiss restaurant in Havana during the ’30s that after defeating
Teichmann, Nimzowitsch politely gave his place in a crowded dining room to the German
master, who was accompanied by the Cuban. But it was not always this way. According to the
British Chess Magazine (April 1911, page 158), modesty was not one of Nimzowitsch’s virtues,
and referred to him “judged leniently” as “cool, caustic, aggressive and original, but there
are those who would strengthen the adjectives.” The magazine, however, recognized that
the Baltic master was quick and ingenious, with a reputation for knowing “up to 15,000 con-
temporary chess games.”
The counterpart of Nimzowitsch was Schlechter, who was 36 years old. He was a very
orderly man who lived a frugal life. Lasker wrote that Schlechter was a descendant of farmers
of scarce resources, and for him anything that did not contribute to his work lacked value.
“He is a representative of the harmony of natural forces,” said Lasker. In Capablanca Magazine
(Volume I, Number 2, April 1912, page 18) the Cuban commented on Schlechter: “Kind,
modest, gentlemanly, he has only friends, although sometimes is too reserved, which induced
[the French magazine] La Stratégie to compare him to William the Silent.” And he added:
“[H]e is a consistent comrade and a loyal friend. What else can we say to show him our deep
appreciation?”
Capablanca also frequently conversed with Tarrasch, who seemed to him less petulant
than he had heard. Although the Cuban said, in his 1916 article for the New York Evening
Post, that sometimes it was difficult to talk to the German master. “I feel that I should be
very cautious, lest I say something that may offend him. For Tarrasch is one of those who
outdo in their efforts to appear scrupulously correct. He is extremely fastidious, sensitive
and possessed of a superabundance of pride, which I should not say, is offensive in his case.”
Capablanca highly praised Tarrasch’s chess talent, especially in rook and pawn endings.
At the time of the San Sebastian tournament, Tarrasch’s chess career was in decline; three
years earlier, in 1908, he suffered a terrible defeat at the hands of Emanuel Lasker. For Tar-
rasch’s ego possibly the worst offense was when Lasker, in reference to the result of the second
game of the match, wrote in the New York Sun (reproduced by American Chess Bulletin,
October 1908, page 201): Tarrasch “lacks the passion that whips the blood when great stakes
can be gained by resolute and self-confident daring.”
Writing about the differences of the two mighty German masters, Lasker and Tarrasch,
Capablanca wrote in the New York Evening Post: “The method of Tarrasch differs from that
of Lasker. To my mind, Tarrasch is a very weak tactician. Coming always well prepared to
his matches, he becomes terribly flustered in emergencies and at unexpected developments.
He thinks long and painfully over his moves, for to Tarrasch the loss of a game is worse than
the tortures of hell.”
Capablanca also mentioned the correct dress and fussy grooming of Tarrasch: “When
I think of Tarrasch, I see his inevitable boutonnière, his carefully soaped moustache, his
immaculate and fashionable clothes. If anything disturbed the orderly appearance of his
attire, it was a crime; but if anything caused his moustache to lose his particular outlines, it
was a sacrilege.”
And in another part of the same article Capablanca said:
[T]he picture of Tarrasch during tournament play is one hard to forget. He has all the
appearance of a diminutive Spartan. I have seen him in important games staring fixedly at the
chess board for fully an hour, so intently that one would think his sight was piercing the table,
perfectly rigid, not even the smallest muscle twitching, straight-backed and with an almost
painful seriousness in his face—a living statue.
In his article in Capablanca Magazine, the Cuban pointed out the meticulous way in
which Tarrasch prepared his openings: “In San Sebastián in 1911 he made his first 16 moves
against me in three minutes.” And he added in the New York Evening Post: “I recall at San
Sebastián, when, after going through all the preliminaries of assuming a military bearing
and curling his moustache, he invited me for a walk. He then discussed with me at great
length the best opening for the game he was to play Vidmar on the following day.”
The Cuban could not fail to underscore in the same Capablanca Magazine article (April
25, 1912): “Dr. Tarrasch is a great admirer of music and the beautiful sex.” In his article in
the New York Evening Post, Capablanca developed his impressions on this topic:
Tarrasch also believed that he was born to radiate his brilliance especially before the ladies. One
day during the San Sebastián tournament a lady was announced. Immediately Tarrasch was on
the qui vive. He started from his seat, drew himself up to his full height, settled himself in his
clothes so that every crease and fold were in their proper places, assumed a military bearing,
threw out his chest, brushed an imaginary speck from his coat and strode to the door to receive
the lady. Although he was not well acquainted, he stood there delivering himself of numerous
and courtly bows.
Another interesting personality was Vidmar, who was then 25 years old. He was an
unpretentious person who distinguished himself, barely, by his inexhaustible love of chess.
He played games with anyone and at any time of the day or night. Many years later, when
he was the director of the Institute of Electrotechnics of Ljubljana, he spent a lot of time in
cafes playing blitz games for pennies and remaining unhappy when he won only small
amounts. Lasker had very high regard for Vidmar’s game. The world champion said that the
Slovene was a man who was always going forward without anyone noticing it. He added that
he obtained his victories without fuss, through small advantages, until suddenly his oppo-
nents realized that they had a rival before them. His moves rarely were hammer blows, but
posed problems of deep conception and simplicity of means, said Lasker.
Capablanca also shared some time with Bernstein, then 28 years old, playing blitz games
that were observed by other players, especially Rubinstein. Without being a professional
player (Bernstein was a successful businessman and a graduate of law in Germany), he
defended with zeal the few gains reached by chess players in a hostile world. When he lost
to the Cuban, Bernstein stressed the virtues of the winner and told everyone that Capablanca
had an accurate precision in the game.
Dawid Janowski, who was then 42 years old, was the great exotic. A sharp journalist of
the time described him as a figure taken from a male fashion magazine. The same written
portrait (source information has been lost) reflected a Janowski sitting in front of the board
keeping completely immobile, dressed in a trendy way, smoking only Turkish cigarettes and
drinking lemonade through a straw. He was the archetypal sensitive player; one nearby wilted
rose petal might have caused him to lose a game. But he also distinguished himself by his
tremendous passion for roulette. In the gambling room of Monte Carlo he lost on more
than one occasion the entire amount of his prizes in the chess tournaments played there.
And to be able to return to Paris, he needed the usual generosity of the casino in such cases.
More than any other player of his time, Janowski had developed his tactical powers, and like
Spielmann, he stated openly that he was not interested in anything in life other than chess.
In addition, he exclaimed that in chess, the only thing that attracted his attention was the
middle game to give mate to the enemy king. His creed was that a properly played game
should never be extended for numerous moves.
With the passing of the years, Capablanca attempted in vain to make him understand
that he needed to study the endgame, but Janowski never gave in. The Cuban recalled that
on one occasion Janowski told him: “I detest the endgame.” The truth is that Capablanca
just escaped being one of Janowski’s big victims at San Sebastián. The Cuban should have
felt at some point in the game between them the same state of paralysis that hunters suffer
when a beast attacks them and their shotguns are jammed.
Capablanca–Dawid M. Janowski [D40]

5th Round, San Sebastián, 27 February 1911
1. d4 d5 2. e3 Nf6 3. Nf3 c5 4. c4 e6 5. Nc3 Be7 Nowadays the main line is 5. … Nc6
6. a3 a6 6. d×c5 0–0 7. a3 B×c5 8. b4 Be7 9. Bb2 Or 9. c×d5 e×d5 10. Bb2 a5 11. b5 Be6
12. Bd3 Nbd7 13. 0–0 Bg4 14. Be2 Nb6 15. Ne5 B×e2 16. N×e2 Bd6 17. Nf4 Qe7 18. Ng4
N×g4 19. Q×g4 Be5 20. B×e5 Q×e5 with an equal game Khurtsidze–Magalashvili, Baku
2009. 9. … a5 10. b5 b6 Better seems 10. … d×c4 11. B×c4 Nbd7 12. Rc1 Nc5 13. 0–0 b6
14. Ne5 Bb7 with an even game. 11. c×d5 e×d5 12. Nd4 Bd6 13. Be2 “I saw at the time that
13. g3 seemed the proper continuation, but I became afraid of being criticized for creating
such a formation of Pawns in the kingside” (Capablanca). If now 13. … Bg4 (Edward Lasker)
14. Qd2 with a little advantage for White. 13. … Be6 14. Bf3 Ra7 15. 0–0 Rc7 16. Qb3?!
Better is 16. Re1 Re8 17. e4 d×e4 18. N×e4 N×e4 19. B×e4 Bc5 20. N×e6 Q×d1 21. Ra×d1
f×e6 (Fernández Fernández–Bueno Fortuna, Havana 2009) and White has a big advantage.
16. … Nbd7 17. Rfd1 Better seems 17. Nc6! R×c6 18. b×c6 Nd4 19. Qd1 with advantage for
White. 17. … Ne5 18. Be2 Qe7 19. Rac1 Rfc8 20. Na4 R×c1 21. R×c1 R×c1+ 22. B×c1
Ne4 23. Bb2 “I had already seen what was coming, but I also felt sure that my only chance
was to weather the storm. Perhaps either 23. N×e6 f×e6 (for example 24. f4 Qc7 25. Qd1
Nc4 26. Qc2) or 23. f3 would have held the game, but, at any rate, Black had an advantage”
(Capablanca). But this is a mistake because of 23. … Qh4 24. g3 (24. f×e4 Ng4 25. Nf3
B×h2+ 26. N×h2 Q×h2+ 27. Kf1 Qh1 mate) 24. … N×g3 and Black is winning. 23. … Nc4
24. B×c4 B×h2+! “This sacrifice is excellent, inasmuch as Black can, at least, draw the game
by perpetual check. 24. … d×c4 would not have been good, because White would then play
25. Qc2 and have, at least, an even game” (Capablanca). 25. K×h2 Qh4+ 26. Kg1 Q×f2+
27. Kh2 Qg3+ 28. Kg1 If 28. Kh1 Nf2+ 29. Kg1 Bh3 30. B×d5 Ng4 31. Qd1 Q×e3+ 32. Kh1
Nf2+ winning. 28. … d×c4 29. Qc2 Q×e3+ 30. Kh2 Qh6+ 31. Kg1 Qe3+ 32. Kh2 Qg3+
33. Kg1 Qe1+ 34. Kh2 Nf6 35. N×e6 If 35. Qe2? Ng4+ 36. Kh3 Qh1+ 37. Kg3 Qh2+
38. Kf3 Ne5+ 39. Ke3 c3 40. B×c3 Bc4 41. Qd2 Nd3 42. Nf3
Qf4+ 43. Ke2 Nb2+ 44. Kf2 Q×d2+ 45. N×d2 N×a4 with a wDwDwDkD
big advantage for Black. 35. … Qh4+ 36. Kg1 Qe1+ 37. Kh2 DwDwDw0w
Qh4+ 38. Kg1 Ng4 39. Qd2 If 39. g3 Q×g3+ 40. Qg2 Qe1+ w)wDwDwD
41. Qf1 Q×e6 42. Bd4 h5 43. N×b6 c3 44. Nc4 Qg6 45. Qe2 c2 0wDwGwDw
46. Bb2 Qg5 winning. 39. … Qh2+ 40. Kf1 Qh1+ 41. Ke2 NDpDqDwD
Q×g2+ 42. Kd1 Nf2+ 43. Kc2 Qg6+ 44. Kc1 Qg1+ 45. Kc2 )wDnDwDp
Qg6+ 46. Kc1 Nd3+ 47. Kb1 f×e6 48. Qc2 h5 49. Bd4 If wDQDwDwD
49. Q×c4 h4 50. N×b6 h3 51. Qc8+ Kh7 52. Nd7 Qf5 53. Nf8+ DKDwDwDw
Kh6 and Black is winning. 49. … h4 50. B×b6 h3 51. Bc7 e5 After 53. B×e5
52. b6 Qe4 53. B×e5 (see diagram)
53. … Qe1+? The winning move was 53. … Qh1+ 54. Ka2 N×e5. For example: 55. Qe2
Qg2 56. Nc3 Nd7 57. b7 Q×e2+ 58. N×e2 h2 59. Ng3 Kf7. 54. Ka2 N×e5 Better was
54. … Nc1+ 55. Kb2 Nd3+ 56. Ka2 Nc1+ and a draw. “Janowski, like the other masters
watching the game, never thought that it would be possible for me to obtain more than a
draw out of the game. Before continuing I should add that the endgame coming is per-
haps the finest of its kind ever played over the board, and that for some unknown reason it
has not properly appreciated. It is a masterpiece, of which I am very proud” (Capablanca).
55. b7 Nd7 56. Nc5 Nb8 57. Q×c4+ Kh8 58. Ne4 Kh7? Better is 58. … Qe3 59. Qc8+
Kh7 60. Qf5+ Kh6 61. Nf2 Qe2+ 62. Kb3 Qe3+ 63. Ka4 Qd4+ 64. Kb5 Qb2+ with
perpetual check.. Now White is winning. 59. Qd3 g6 60. Q×h3+ Kg7 61. Qf3 Qc1
62. Qf6+ Kh7 63. Qf7+ Kh6 64. Qf8+ Kh5 65. Qh8+ Kg4 66. Qc8+ Black resigned.
1–0.
Janowski lacked a tempo from move 59. Did Lasker not say that the understanding of
the value of a tempo was the biggest chess advancement between the 16th and 18th centuries?
In a very unusual way for a chess player, Capablanca acknowledged that the origin of his
problems was failing to build a defensive position through g3, but, as mentioned before, he
did not do so because of the “what will they say” of other masters about that ugly pawn
structure. The truth is that never before February 27, 1911, had the Cuban felt so strongly
what it was like to fall into the clutches of a great player. “In this game for the first time in
my life I had the feeling of being completely outplayed by my opponent; time after time, up
to my twenty-first move, I would figure some reply to my adversary only to find out imme-
diately that I was wrong, and that some other move that he had made was superior to the
one I thought best.”19
On March 25, Lasker commented again from Berlin on the Cuban’s game and, curiously,
he once again took the side of the practical skills of Capablanca: “A few of Capablanca’s
games have arrived. The Schachwelt published three of them. Of these the most interesting
one is that against Janowski. Though Capablanca commits a mistake, and in consequence,
is hard pressed, one must put a high value upon the accuracy of the defense of the young
Cuban. And his counterattack at the end is finely carried through.” Edward Lasker wrote in
his book Chess Secrets I Learned from the Masters (1951), that this game decided the fate of
three masters: “He [ Janowski] never came back to the front rank.… Capablanca won the
Tournament as result of this game.… Rubinstein, on the other hand, who had been considered
the logical heir to Lasker’s throne, was pushed into the background because of Janowski’s
defeat….”
Although it is an attractive conclusion, motivated by the desire of a writer to catch in
a sentence an historical event, this is inaccurate. The great tragedy that Janowski never recov-
ered from had already happened a year earlier in Berlin, when he had 8 losses, zero wins and
3 draws in a match for the world championship against Emanuel Lasker; he had also lost a
match against Marshall in 1905, after which, so sure of his superiority, he asked for a return
match with the unusual condition that the American master begin with 4 points to start!
On the other hand, it was not because Rubinstein finished second that he abandoned
his challenge to the title, but he never really achieved the fundraising for the match, and the
war of 1914–1918 stalled all chess activity. Eventually, Capablanca won the tournament, but
for this he had to defeat players of such stature as Leonhardt, Nimzowitsch and Spielmann,
in addition to achieving draws against such masters as Důras, Schlechter, Maróczy, Teich-
mann and Vidmar after his victory against Janowski.
After his game with Janowski, Capablanca then shared first place with Schlechter and
Marshall. To stay there in the next round he entered against Leonhardt into a complex
endgame of two bishops each side and a pawn plus for the Cuban. Despite some inaccuracies,
he managed to win after two extra sessions. He accumulated another point when Nimzowitsch
employed against him, in the game below, the then little used variant 2. d3 and 3. Nd2,
but in an excess of optimism the Latvian sacrificed a piece in search of an attack against
the king that seemed promising. Capablanca overlooked a convincing answer on his 18th
move, but Nimzowitsch did not take advantage of his opportunities to further complicate
the position.
Aron I. Nimzowitsch–Capablanca [C00]

8th Round, San Sebastián, 3 March 1911
1. e4 e6 2. d3 d5 3. Nd2 c5 4. Ngf3 Nc6 5. Be2 Nowadays the main variation is 5. g3
Nf6 6. Bg2 Be7 7. 0–0 0–0 8. Re1 b5 9. e5 Nd7 10. Nf1 a5. 5. … Bd6 6. 0–0 Qc7 The most
often employed move here is 6. … Nge7. 7. Re1 Nge7 8. c3 0–0 9. a3 After 9. Bf1 b6 10. Qe2
Ng6 11. g3 Ba6 12. a3 Rad8 (Kaulfuss–Benjes, Germany 1995), Black is better. 9. … f5 10. Bf1
Better is 10. e×d5 e×d5 11. d4 c×d4 12. c×d4 Bd7 13. b4 Ng6 14. Nb3 b6 with an equal
game. 10. … Bd7 11. e×d5 e×d5 12. b4 Rae8 13. Bb2 If 13 .b×c5 B×c5 14. d4 Bb6 15. Bb2
Qf4 16. Qb3 Na5 and Black is better. 13. … b6 14. d4 c4 15. N×c4? In search of complica-
tions, because after 15. b5 Na5 16. a4 Ng6 17. Ba3 B×a3 18. R×a3 f4 Black is better. 15. …
d×c4 16. B×c4+ Kh8 17. Ng5 B×h2+ Better seems 17. … Nd8 18. Qh5 h6 19. Nf7+ N×f7
20. B×f7 Rd8 21. c4 Ng8 22. B×g8 K×g8 23. c5 Bf4 with advantage for Black. 18. Kh1 Bf4
Better is 18. … h6 19. Nf7+ Kh7 20. Ng5+ Kg6 21. Ne6 B×e6 22. R×e6+ Kh7 23. Bb5 Bd6
24. d5 Ne5 25. B×e8 R×e8 and Black has an almost winning position. 19. Nf7+ R×f7
20. B×f7 Rf8 21. Bh5 Ng8 22. c4 Qd8 Better is 22. … Nf6 23. Bf3 Ng4! 24. B×g4 f×g4
25. g3 B×g3! 26. f×g3 Q×g3 27. Re2 N×d4! 28. Q×d4 Bc6+
wDwDwDwi 29. Re4 Rg8 30. Rf1 h6 31. Rf7 Qe1+ 32. Kh2 B×e4 winning.
0wDwhw0p 23. Qf3 Better is 23. g3 with possibilities for both sides. 23. …
w0wDw4wD Qh4+ 24. Qh3 If 24. Kg1 Qh2+ 25. Kf1 Nf6 winning. 24. …
DP)wDpDw Q×f2 25. Re2 Qg3 26. Q×g3 B×g3 27. c5 Nce7 28. Bf3 If
PDw)BDwD 28. a4 Nd5 29. Bf3 Ngf6 30. b5 Kg8 31. c6 Bc8 32. a5 Ne4 and
DwDbDwgw Black is winning. 28. … Bb5 29. Rc2 If 29. Re3 Bf2 30. Re6 Bc4
wGwDwDPD 31. Rd6 Nc8 32. Rc6 Bg3 and Black is winning. 29. … Nf6 30. a4
$w$wDwDK Bd3 31. Rcc1 Ne4 32. b5 Rf6 33. B×e4 (see diagram)
After 33. B×e4 33. … Bf2 and Black mates in at most three moves. White
resigned. 0–1.
Capablanca kept up the march with a not very aggressive division of the point against
Maróczy. The Cuban had then accumulated 7½ points against 6 for Rubinstein and Vidmar, but
he had played one more game. An important moment occurred in round 12 against Spielmann.
Capablanca–Rudolf Spielmann [D05]

wDw1wDwi
0pDwgw0p 1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 c5 3. c3 Nf6 4. e3 Nc6 5. d×c5 Another
wDwDwDwD possibility is the Colle System with 5. Bd3 e6 6. Nbd2 Bd6 7. 0–
Dw)wDwDw 0 0–0 8. d×c5 B×c5 9. e4 Qc7 10. Qe2 h6 11. h3 Nh5 12. Nb3
w)wDRGQD Ng3 13. Qc2 d×e4 14. B×e4 N×e4 15. Q×e4 Bd6 with an even
Dw)wDwDw game. 5. … e5 6. b4 Qc7 7. Bb2 Be6 8. Nbd2 Be7 9. Be2 Inter-
PDwDw4P0 esting is 9. c4!? but after 9. … 0–0 10. b5 e4 11. b×c6 e×f3
DwDwDwDK 12. c×b7 Q×b7 13. Rb1 Qc7 the game is even. 9. … 0–0 10. 0–
After 28. … Qd8 0 Rad8 11. Qc2 Bg4 12. e4 d×e4 13. N×e4 N×e4 14. Q×e4 f5
15. Qc4+ Kh8 16. Rad1 e4 17. Nd4 Ne5 18. Qb3 B×e2 19. N×e2 Ng4 20. Ng3 Better
maybe is 20. g3 Ne5 21. Nd4 Qc8 22. Qe6 20. … f4?! A good opportunity was 20. … e3!
21. f×e3 N×e3 22. R×d8 R×d8 23. Re1 f4 24. Qe6 Rd2 25. Bc1 R×g2+ 26. Kh1 f×g3
27. B×e3 R×h2+ 28. Kg1 g2 29. Re2 Rh1+ 30. K×g2 Qh2+ 31. Kf3 Qh5+ 32. Ke4 h6
33. Qc8+ Kh7 34. Qf5+ Q×f5+ 35. K×f5 Bf6 36. Bd4 and White is only a little better.
21. R×d8! R×d8 22. Qe6! f×g3 If 22. … N×f2 23. N×e4 Nd3 24. Bc1 N×c1 25. R×c1 a5
26. Re1 and White is better; if 22. … N×h2 23. Nf5 N×f1 24. c4 Bg5 25. N×g7 and White
is winning. 23. Q×g4 g×h2+? Much better is 23. … g×f2+ 24. R×f2 e3 25. Rf1 Qe5 26. Re1
Bg5 and Black has full compensation for the pawn. 24. Kh1 Qe5 25. Re1 Rd2 26. R×e4
Now White is winning. 26. … Qc7 27. Bc1 R×f2 28. Bf4 Qd8 (see diagram)
29. R×e7! Qf8 30. Q×g7+! If 30. … Q×g7 31. Re8+ Qf8 32. R×f8+ Kg7 33. Bh6+
winning. Black resigned. 1–0.
With this win Capablanca consolidated himself in first place, followed by Rubinstein,
Vidmar and Marshall. But the advantage was diluted in the 13th round, when the Cuban
saw how his tactical skills failed against Rubinstein.
Akiva K. Rubinstein–Capablanca [D33]

1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 c5 3. c4 e6 4. c×d5 e×d5 5. Nc3 Nc6 6. g3 Be6 7. Bg2 Be7 8. 0–0
Rc8 Em. Lasker recommends 8. … h6. 9. d×c5 B×c5 10. Ng5 Nf6 11. N×e6 f×e6 12. Bh3
12. e4 d4 13. Na4 Be7 14. Qb3 Qd7 15. Bd2 0–0 16. Rad1 Ne5 17. Bh3 Kf7 18. Bf4 Nc6
19. Nc3 Rfd8 20. Nd5 is a little better for White. 12. … Qe7 13. Bg5 0–0 Better is 13. …
Rd8 14. e4 d×e4 15. Qa4 Rd4 16. Qc2 h6 17. B×f6 g×f6 18. N×e4 Bb6 19. Bg2 0–0 20. Rad1
Rfd8 with only a small advantage for White. 14. B×f6 Q×f6 If 14. … g×f6 15. N×d5 e×d5
16. B×c8 R×c8 17. Q×d5+ Kg7 18. Rac1 Ne5 19. Rfd1 Rc6 20. e3
and White is better. 15. N×d5 (see diagram) wDrDw4kD
15. … Qh6 Better is 15. … B×f2+! 16. Kg2 Qe5 17. Nf4 Rcd8 0pDwDw0p
18. B×e6+ Kh8 19. Qb3 Nd4 20. Q×b7 Nc2 21. R×f2 N×a1 wDnDp1wD
22. Qc6 g5 23. Nd3 R×f2+ 24. N×f2 Nc2 25. Q×c2 Q×e6 DwgNDwDw
26. Qc3+Kg8 with an even endgame. 16. Kg2! 16. Bg2 Ne5 wDwDwDwD
17. Nf4 Ng4 18. h3 (18. Nh3 R×f2) 18. … N×f2 19. R×f2 B×f2+ DwDwDw)B
20. K×f2 g5 with Black advantage (Capablanca). 16. … Rcd8 P)wDP)w)
17. Qc1! e×d5 18. Q×c5 Qd2 19. Qb5 Nd4 20. Qd3 Q×d3 $wDQDRIw
21. e×d3 Rfe8 22. Bg4 22. Rfe1 Nc2 23. R×e8+ R×e8 24. Rc1 After 15. N×d5
Re2 25. Kf1 Nd4 26. Rc8+Kf7 27. Rc7+ Re7 and White wins
(Capablanca). For example 28. Rc5 Nc6 29. R×d5 Nb4 30. Rf5+ wDwDwDwD
Ke8 31. d4 etc. 22. … Rd6! 23. Rfe1 R×e1 24. R×e1 Rb6 DwDwDwDw
25. Re5 Better is 25. b3 Ra6 26. Re5 R×a2 27. R×d5 Nc6 winDwDwD
28. Be6+Kf8 29. Rd7 Ne5 30. R×b7 and White is win- DwDBDwDR
ning (Razuvaev). 25. … R×b2 26. R×d5 Nc6 27. Be6+ Kf8 p0wDwDw)
28. Rf5+ Ke8 29. Bf7+Kd7 30. Bc4 a6 Better is 30. … DwDPDw)w
Kd6. 31. Rf7+ Kd6 32. R×g7 b5 33. Bg8 a5 34. R×h7 a4 35. h4 P4wDw)KD
b4 36. Rh6+ Or 36. h5 b3 37. h6 b×a2 38. B×a2 R×a2 39. Rg7 DwDwDwDw
a3 40. h7 winning. 36. … Kc5 37. Rh5+ Kb6 38. Bd5? Better After 38. Bd5
is 38. Bc4 b3 39. a×b3 a3 40. Rb5+Kc7 41. b4 a2 42. B×a2 R×a2 43. h5 winning (see dia-
gram)
38. … b3? 38. … R×a2! 39. Bc4 (if 39. Rh6 Rc2 40. h5 b3 [or 40. … a3 41. Rh8 Kc5
42. Bb3 Re2 43. h6 Re7 44. h7 Rd7 45. f4 winning] 41. Re6 Rc5 42. B×c6 R×c6 43. R×c6+
K×c6 44. h6 b2 45. h7 b1=Q 46. h8=Q Q×d3 and a draw is close. Indeed, after 47. Qf6+
Qd6 48. Qh4 a3 the endgame is drawn) 39. … Rc2 40. Rb5+ Kc7 41. Bg8 a3 42. h5 a2
43. B×a2 R×a2 44. h6 Ra6! “offers excellent chances for a draw” (Capablanca). For example:
45. g4 Ne7 46. h7 Ra8 47. R×b4 Rh8 48. f4 R×h7 49. g5 Kd6 50. Rb6+ Kd5 51. Rf6 Kd4
52. Kg3 K×d3 53. Rd6+Ke4 54. Re6+ Kd4 and the endgame is drawn. 39. a×b3 a3
40. B×c6! R×b3 If 40. … a2 41. Rb5+ Ka6 42. Rb8 winning. 41. Bd5 a2 42. Rh6+! Black
resigned. If 42. … Kb5 43. Bc4+ Kc5 44. Ra6 winning. 1–0.
The news of Capablanca’s defeat saddened Havana. “Even if he does not win the tour-
nament,” said León Paredes in La Discusión (clipping; date unknown), “he has made an
extraordinary effort.” And journalist Víctor Muñoz left his bustling baseball for a moment
to write: “…but how beautiful it has been after all to listen to the soft murmur of the Castilian
tone between so many names of hard and complicated pronunciation” (clipping; date and
source unknown). But all was not lost. Rubinstein had the bye in the last round and therefore
the Cuban’s most dangerous opponent was Vidmar, who would face him on the closing date.
In the penultimate round, Capablanca, with White, did not force the situation in his game
against Teichmann, which has only 8 moves in the tournament book, although many think
the rest of the game was lost. In this round Vidmar and Maróczy also agreed to a draw in 18
moves, and everybody was waiting for the result of the Rubinstein–Spielmann game, which
ended with a division of the point after a moment in which it seemed Rubinstein squandered
a winning continuation. Now the Cuban was in first place with 9 points, tied with Rubinstein.
The big difference was that Rubinstein had no more games to play, while the rival of Capa-
blanca in the last round, Vidmar, who had half a point less than the Cuban, would be forced
to win to take the victory in the tournament.
Milan Vidmar–Capablanca [D40]

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 c5 4. e3 Nf6 5. Nf3 Nc6 6. Bd3 d×c4 7. B×c4 Be7 8. 0–0
0–0 9. d×c5 Q×d1 Maybe simpler is 9. … B×c5 10. a3 a6 11. b4
Be7 12. Bb2 b5 13. Be2 Q×d1 ½–½ Kalod–Cvek, Austria
2009. 10. R×d1 B×c5 11. a3 b6 12. b4 Be7 13. e4 Rd8 14. Bf4 wDrDnDkD
Interesting is 14. R×d8+ N×d8 15. e5 Nd7 16. Bf4 Bb7 17. Be2 0bDwgp0p
Nc6 18. Rd1 with a small advantage to White. 14. … Bb7 15. e5 w0nHpDwD
Ne8 16. Bd3 Rac8 17. Nb5 Rd5 18. Nd6 (see diagram) DwDr)wDw
Now Capablanca obtains the draw and first place with a w)wDwGwD
“petite combinaison” 18. … N×d6! 19. e×d6 B×d6 20. B×d6 )wDBDNDw
Rd8! Draw. ½–½.
wDwDw)P)
$wDRDwIw
When the result of the game and the triumph of Capablanca After 18. Nd6
in the tournament was heard of around the world, very few
doubted that an important figure had reached the firmament of Caissa. In his column
San Sebastián 1911

1 Capablanca, José Raúl • 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 1 1 ½ ½ 1 1 ½ 1 91⁄2
2 Rubinstein, Akiva 1 • ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 1 9 60.25
3 Vidmar, Milan ½ ½ • 0 ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 9 57.25
4 Marshall, Frank James ½ ½ 1 • ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ 0 1 81⁄2
5 Tarrasch, Siegbert ½ ½ ½ ½ • ½ 1 1 ½ 0 ½ ½ 1 0 ½ 71⁄2 52.75
6 Schlechter, Carl ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ • ½ 0 ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ 71⁄2 50.75
7 Nimzowitsch, Aron 0 ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ • ½ 1 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 71⁄2 49.00
8 Bernstein, Ossip 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 1 ½ • 1 1 1 ½ 0 1 0 7 47.50
9 Spielmann, Rudolf 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 0 • ½ 1 ½ ½ 1 1 7 44.50
10 Teichmann, Richard ½ ½ ½ 0 1 ½ 0 0 ½ • ½ 0 ½ 1 1 61⁄2
11 Maróczy, Géza ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 0 ½ • 1 ½ ½ 0 6 43.50
12 Janowski, Dawid M. 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ ½ 1 0 • 1 1 1 6 35.00
13 Burn, Amos 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ 0 • 0 ½ 5 35.00
14 Důras, Oldřich ½ 0 0 1 1 0 ½ 0 0 0 ½ 0 1 • ½ 5 34.50
15 Leonhardt, Paul S. 0 0 0 0 ½ ½ 0 1 0 0 1 0 ½ ½ • 4
in the Saturday supplement of the New York Evening Post, on March 15, 1911, Lasker
wrote:
This is a great moment in his life. His name has become known everywhere, his fame as a chess
master is firmly established. The Berliner Tageblatt published his biography, the Lokal Anzeiger
his picture; countless newspapers, chess columns and chess periodicals will speak of him, the
man and the master. And he is twenty-three years of age. Happy Capablanca! His style of play
has pleased. It is sound and full of ideas. It has a dash of originality. No doubt that the chess
world would not like to miss him, now that it has got to know him. In the beginning of his
career, eight years ago, there were those who were fearful of his becoming what he is. They
wanted him to have a profession, and to be a chess master besides. Happily, nature was stronger
than their influence. The world would have gained little had he become an engineer; the chess
world would have certainly been poorer thereby.
In the Berliner Tageblatt, Mieses wrote an article reprinted as the now classic preface in
his book with Dr. M. Lewitt, Le Tournoi d’Échecs de Saint-Sebastién (La Stratégie, Paris, 1911):
Concerning his type of play, let it be said that it has not, contrary to what one might expect,
anything youthful and lacking in development; it is entirely mature. One must not forget that
Capablanca as a man is young, but as a player he is quite aged; from the fourth to the twenty-
second year of his life he gave practically all his time to his favorite pursuit and at this period of
life eighteen years count double or triple. Capablanca should be considered more as a practical
player than as a theorist, although he perfectly knows modern chess literature. His game is often
extraordinary; he plays the openings, middle game and the endgame with the same skill and he
sees at a glance longer combinations. According to our opinion, the young winner of San
Sebastián is, essentially, more a tactician than a strategist. Many an expert says that there is a
certain affinity between his style and that of the world champion, Lasker. There may be some
truth in it. Lasker’s style is clear water, but with a drop of poison clouding it. Capablanca’s style
is perhaps still clearer, but it lacks that drop of poison.
The games of Capablanca against Bernstein, Janowski and Spielmann served the Russian
master Eugene Znosko-Borovsky with material for his lectures about the Cuban offered on
April 12, 1911, at the St. Petersburg Chess Club, and then the next September in Moscow.
In that study, Znosko-Borovsky said, “In complicated positions, he [Capablanca] plays just
as splendidly as in simple ones.” But he disagreed with the analysis of Mieses that Capablanca’s
style, unlike that of Lasker, lacked a drop of poison, because the game of the Cuban “is simple
but not artless, even but not dispassionate, lucid but not without venom.…” The conferences
served as the basis for the 42-page booklet J.R. Capablanca: An Attempt at a Description,
the first book ever written on the Cuban, whose publication was sponsored by the St. Peters-
burg Chess Club. As a summary of his analysis, Znosko-Borovsky was of the opinion that
Capablanca was not yet worthy of the exaggerated cheers of those who wanted to see him
at the top. However, he acknowledged that although his career development was not yet
complete, his arrival had rushed the tone of the game, as the American Chess Bulletin, Decem-
ber 1911, published in a review of the monograph.
Capablanca’s success in San Sebastián made it inevitable that he was compared again
with Morphy, who in his first trip to Europe left evidence of his superiority over the masters
he met there. Thanks to his victory, “the chess world opened its doors to Capablanca and
as it did with Paul Morphy, it gave him its love, so often changeable and volatile,” Alles
Monasterio wrote years later in his book with Ståhlberg, Partidas Clásicas de Capablanca.
And he added that since then: “With the pampered young man there was no impermeability
that resisted the seduction that he exercised in all arts…. His sonorous surname, with all the
seduction of the exotic and distant, was easily repeated in all the languages and there was
no way to forget it.”
But some influential media, such as the New York Times, in its issue of March 21, 1911,
considered that the comments on the similarities between Capablanca and the genius of
Louisiana went beyond the acceptable. In addition, they were “ominous,” because they implic-
itly supposed a fate as sad as what happened to the master of New Orleans:
Capablanca’s victory in San Sebastián has resulted in the frequent mention of him as “a second
Morphy.” This is somewhat unfortunate, for not only is the comparison ominous, as regards the
young Cuban’s future, but it has for justification hardly more than the single fact that C APA-
BLANCA , like MORPHY when the latter won his first laurels, is a youth with little experience in
matches against the recognized masters of chess.
Certainly the Cuban’s success, gained as it was by the narrowest of margins, had slight similar-
ity to that of the young New Orleans lawyer who in all Europe probably found nobody who
could make him exert all of his amazing powers and beat the champions of his day with what
often seemed ridiculous ease. In style of play, also, the two men differed utterly. MORPHY ’S self-
confidence was such that he constantly dared to be “brilliant,” that is, to take what would now be
regarded as desperate chances. Modern critics think that they have proved many of his combina-
tions unsound, but they have not proved that MORPHY could not have adjusted his game to the
safer and duller tactics of today had it been necessary for him to do so.
Be that as it may, CAPABLANCA shows no such superiority to his rivals as did MORPHY, and he
has been content to contend with them for the gaining and holding of small advantages—the
savings-bank game, as it has been derisively called by those who resent the recent criticism of
MORPHY.
The criticism, which appeared in the section “Topics of the Times,” could not evade a
note of prejudice out of context in a historical comparison. This trend, already observed in
the “Fable” of Robert J. Buckley from two years before, started here in the second paragraph,
when next to the name of Morphy appeared his certificate as a lawyer. The article contin-
ued:
And chess, after all, is only a game—a magnificent game to be sure—but mastery of it is not a
particularly enviable achievement, since it leads to nothing in itself beyond a scanty and not very
dignified livelihood, and from it only few and dubious inferences can be drawn as to the mental
equipment of its possessors. Strangely few of the best players have been able to do anything else
notably well, and the common belief that chess supplies mental training applicable in other
directions is not borne out by the history of the game.
The final comment did not hide the distrust borne by the unknown author, maybe a
member of the sports section, or the editorial board of the newspaper.
In Havana, Capablanca’s parents sent him a cable of congratulations to San Sebastián.
They wanted to be with him and share the joy of his victory. The feat had convinced them
that their son was truly predestined to be a master of chess. They received, however, the
explanation that he would not travel to Cuba immediately, as he was going to Germany, via
Paris, and would return to France, where he had already reserved a cabin in a steamboat
heading to Argentina. He had to delay his purpose to return to Cuba for reasons explained
in a letter to the Secretary of the Havana Chess Club.
San Sebastián, March 18, 1911
Mr. León Paredes
My dear friend:
I just received your letter as well as the one you enclosed for the Mayor of Madrid. As you say,
I should go there, but I do not have time now and I think I will have to leave it for another occa-
sion.
Apart from that, for several days I have not been in good health and I started feeling worse
since yesterday. I have some fever and I will have to go to the doctor this afternoon. I did not say
anything about this to Cuba [italics added] to avoid upsetting my family, because I do not think
it is anything serious. It is because of this that I played badly the last week of the tournament.
The weather here is hell or at least it has been during the tournament. I suppose you are satisfied.
I have to tell you that Janowski gave me more difficulties and at one time he had the game won. I
will write more to you when I feel a little bit better. Greet my friends and please be aware you
are appreciated by yours truly.
J.R. Capablanca [Figueredo-Romero Archives].
Although the ailment was not anything serious, the mystery of its origin persists today.
But something was clear after his victory in San Sebastián: a first magnitude star had appeared
in the galaxy of chess—dazzling, enigmatic and far from ordinary.
6. The New Conquistador
Dr. Emanuel Lasker had no doubt: A new prophet had come to the land of chess.
When Capablanca arrived in Berlin after his simultaneous exhibitions in Paris, Frank-
furt, Nürnberg and Munich, the world chess champion made his press presentation to the
fans of Germany, later reproduced by the New York Evening Post, April 15, 1911:
Capablanca arrived here last night. He had given simultaneous performances at Munich against
thirty-five opponents, in a little over four hours, and he had won 27, drawn 8. With the modern
masters, losing seems to go out of fashion. Today I saw him over a cup of coffee. There is no
trace of fatigue in his demeanor. His eyes are gray,
or green, or blue—one cannot tell what color—
and remarkably brilliant. They are by far the most
striking feature in his face. One sees at a glance
that he has the determination, but he is modest
and altogether an asset to the guild of chess
masters.
He will play tomorrow night at the Café Karkau.
Thence he will go to Hamburg, return to Paris, and
on April 14 take the steamship at Cherbourg for
Buenos Aires. He will also visit England. It will be
November, at least, before his friends in New York
will see him again.
Soon after his victory in the San Sebastián tourna-
ment, he was apparently ambitious to call the title of
world’s champion his own, and anxious for a match.
But he wisely decided to rest. He has earned the
right to enjoy himself, and a championship contest
is, as a rule, an event that, while it lasts, and after,
diminishes one’s capacity for gladness.
In this German tour, which included Frank-

furt, Nürnberg, Munich, Hamburg and Cologne,
the possibility of a match with Lasker was sug-
The caption, making wordplay with the name of the

popular South America beverage mate and pub-
lished in the Argentinian magazine PBT, May 20,
1911, said: “This is the first city in which Capa-
blanca received mate on his first move” (author’s
collection).
152
gested to him. Adding the games played in Paris and Germany, Capablanca had a result so
far of 237 wins, 19 losses and 30 draws. On April 14, the Cuban departed from the French
port of Cherbourg to Argentina. He was received in Buenos Aires three weeks later, on May
6, after landing from the Amazon. Capablanca’s debut at Buenos Aires occurred on Sunday,
May 7, against 30 opponents, with the result of 25 victories, a loss to Rodolfo Friedenberg,
and 4 draws.
In Argentina, the most significant feat of his stay was the series of 10 games one-on-
one against the best players in the country, of which he won all, as well as another group of
five meetings in consultation, of which Capablanca won 4 and drew 1. Capablanca’s style at
that time was shown in his game against Rolando Illa, born in New York (but his older
brother Ricardo was born in Perico, Cuba, in 1863). After 1868 the family moved to New
York and Ricardo traveled to Argentina. Later he brought Rolando to Buenos Aires, where
he became Capablanca’s best friend in that country.
Capablanca–Rolando Illa [D00]

Exhibition Game, Buenos Aires, 9 June 1911
1. d4 d5 2. e3 Nf6 3. Nd2 e6 4. Bd3 c5 5. c3 Nc6 6. f4 Bd6 7. Nh3 0–0 8. 0–0 Ne7
A possibility is 8. … b6 9. Nf3 Ne7 10. Bd2 Bb7 11. Be1 Ne4 12. Nfg5 Nf5 and Black is OK.
Tribuiani–Naumkin, Rome 2004. 9. Kh1 Bd7 10. Nf3 Bc6 11. Ne5 Qe8 12. a4 a6 13. b3
b5 14. a×b5 a×b5 15. R×a8 Q×a8 16. d×c5 B×c5 17. Qe2 b4? Better seems 17. … Nf5
18. Ng5 Ne4. 18. c×b4 B×b4 19. Bb2 Qd8 Better is 19. … Ne4 (Capablanca). For example
20. Ng5 Nf5 21. Ra1 Qb7 22. N×e4 d×e4 23. Ba6 Qb6 24. g4 Ne7 with an even game.
20. Ng5 Ba8 21. Ng4 Ng6 If 21. … Ne4? 22. B×e4 d×e4 23. B×g7 K×g7 24. Qb2+ e5
25. Q×e5+ f6 26. N×f6 R×f6 27. Ne6+. 22. B×f6 g×f6
23. Nh6+ Kg7 (see diagram) bDw1w4wD
24. Nh×f7! Qe8 25. Qh5! f×g5 26. Qh6+ Kg8 If 26. … DwDwDpip
K×f7 27. Q×h7+ Kf6 28. B×g6 Rh8 (28. … Qe7 29. Qh6 Qc7 wDwDp0nH
30. Q×g5+ Kg7 31. Bd3+ Kf7 32. Be2 Rb8 33. f5 e5 34. f6 win- DwDpDwHw
ning) 29. f×g5+ K×g5 30. h4+ Kg4 31. Bh5+K×h4 32. Rf4+ wgwDw)wD
Kg5 33. Rg4+ Kf6 34. Qg7+ Kf5 35. Rf4 mate 27. N×g5 Capa- DPDB)wDw
blanca wrote: “If 27. … Qe7 then 28. B×g6 h×g6 29. Q×g6+ Qg7 wDwDQDP)
30. Q×g7+K×g7 31. N×e6+ Kf7 32. N×f8 winning.” Black DwDwDRDK
resigned. 1–0. After 23. Nh6+ Kg7
Capablanca’s visit served to give a boost to rapid transit games, which then had few
roots in Argentina. Instead of participating in the blitz tournaments, the Cuban organized
them and served as a referee, so he was later recognized as the introducer of rapid play in
that South American nation. On June 29, at Capablanca’s farewell banquet in Buenos Aires,
Dr. Carlos Inhof, the president of the Argentinean Chess Federation, said: “I must tell you
that the eminent chess player who has been with us is more illustrious than we expected
because his few years do not really speak about the maturity of his skills, the deep abstraction
and spiritual rigor that the art of chess requires” (Revista del Club Argentino de Ajedrez, number
3, Year 7, July 1911). After Buenos Aires, Capablanca went to Bahía Blanca, where he offered
a simultaneous display, winning 19 games and drawing one. From there he crossed the wide
and mighty river Río de la Plata and offered five simultaneous exhibitions in Montevideo
on July 6, 11, 12, and 15, as well as on August 2, with a score of 104 wins, 1 loss (to Alberto
Buela Taborda) and 7 draws. His other performances in Argentina were in La Plata, on July
17 and 19, with 12 wins against 12 opponents the first time, and 20 wins with 2 draws in the
second. The total results of his simultaneous exhibitions in Argentina were 112 wins, 3 losses
and 9 draws. In addition to Friedenberg (May 7), Eduardo Piazzini and Antonio García San-
tos ( June 29) were also victorious.
However, in this visit Capablanca suffered a curious defeat in an informal game against
Alberto C. Palacio, in the institute Colegio Nacional de Buenos Aires. While the Cuban
was honored, someone suggested that the visitor show his powers against a member of the
campus. The honor went to the engineer Palacio, a pretty good player, who in fact showed
an unusual mastery with a win in 41 moves of a King’s Gambit. Capablanca was so perplexed
that he wanted to leave, and even a cartoon that appeared in El Gráfico assumed that he had,
as it showed Capablanca leaving the place in such haste that he forgot his hat. In fact, it did
not happen that way. When Dr. Enrique de Vedia, director of the college, became aware of
the embarrassing situation, he very
skillfully hurried a toast with
champagne in honor to Capa-
blanca, making the Cuban forget
the bad moment.
Capablanca–
Alberto C. Palacio [C30]
Offhand Game,
Buenos Aires, June 1911
1. e4 e5 2. f4 Bc5 3. Nf3 d6
4. d4 Preferred today is 4. Nc3
Nf6 5. Bc4 Nc6 6. d3 Bg4 7. Na4
Bb6 8. N×b6 a×b6 9. c3 0–0
10. 0–0 with a complicated posi-
tion. 4. … e×d4 5. Bd3 Bg4 6. 0–
0 Nc6 7. Nbd2 Nge7 8. h3 B×f3
9. N×f3 f5?! Better is 9. … 0–0
and Black has a small advantage.
10. e×f5 0–0 11. Ng5 N×f5
12. N×h7! Qh4 13. Ng5 Why not
13. N×f8 R×f8 14. B×f5 R×f5
15. Qd3 with a winning position?
13. … Ne3 14. Qf3 And here why
not 14. B×e3 d×e3 15. Kh1 and
White is better. 14. … N×f1
“Ask Capablanca.” Argentine political cartoonists used 15. Q×f1 Q×g5 After 15. … Rae8
the popularity of the visiting Cuban master to make a 16. Bd2 Ne5 17. Re1 c6 18. Re4
mockery of the political parties. When there was a delicate
situation in Tucumán province, a cartoonist wrote: “Ask
N×d3 19. R×e8 R×e8 20. Q×d3
Capablanca” (La Vida Moderna magazine, June 28, 1911, with enough compensation for
author’s collection). the exchange. 16. f×g5 R×f1+
17. K×f1 Now the game is even. 17. … Rf8+ 18. Ke2 Ne5 19. Be4? wDwDw4kD
Better is 19. g3 N×d3 20. c×d3 Re8+ 21. Kf2 g6 22. Bf4 and the 0p0wDw0w
game is even (see diagram) wDw0wDwD
19. … d3+! 20. c×d3 Rf2+ 21. Ke1 c6 Now Black is win- Dwgwhw)w
ning. 22. Bd2 d5 23. d4 B×d4 24. Bc2 R×g2 25. Kd1 Nf3 wDw0BDwD
26. Bc1 N×g5 27. B×g5 R×g5 28. Kd2 Rg2+ 29. Kd3 c5 DwDwDwDP
30. Rb1 Rg3+ 31. Kd2 R×h3 32. Bf5 Rh2+ 33. Kd3 R×b2 P)PDKDPD
34. Be6+ Kf8 35. Rf1+ Rf2 36. Rb1 b6 37. B×d5 Ke7 38. Rh1 $wGwDwDw
g5 39. Rh7+ Kd6 40. Be4 R×a2 41. Rh5 Ra3+ White resigned. After 19. Be4?
0–1.
A similar mischance had happened to Capablanca in Havana after returning from his
triumphant match against Marshall. Then, in an informal game, he was defeated by the ama-
teur René Portela, who was carried on the shoulders of a crowd through the streets of Gua-
nabacoa, his village, despite his efforts
to convince his excited neighbors that
his victory had no such significance.
After his visit to Argentina, for some
unknown reason, Capablanca did not
participate in the Carlsbad tournament,
in the Austro-Hungarian Empire (today
Karlovy Vary, Czech Republic), to
which he was invited. According to
some comments in the Havana media,
he had agreed to participate with Victor
Tietz, the organizer of the event. But the
Philadelphia Inquirer (quoted in the
American Chess Bulletin, August 1911)
revealed “that according to Mr. Rose-
bault [the Cuban’s manager] it is not
likely that Capablanca will be able to
take part. The bonus that has been
offered, 1,500 [Austro-Hungarian] kro-
nen [some $4,500 in 2015], is hardly suf-
ficient, as his many engagements since
he won the San Sebastián Tournament
yield him a far better return.”
From a group of high artistic quality car-

toons made of Capablanca during his visit
to Buenos Aires in 1911, this is one of the
best by José Oliviella, PBT [i.e., pebete:
Argentinian slang of the time for “boy”],
May 11, 1911. Capablanca is shown in shorts
and school shirt, but at the same time with
white-collar and tie, with the intention of
representing a dominant chess master who
was only beginning to reach adulthood.
But the curious comings and goings of Capablanca through the Río de la Plata invite
us to think that he was looking for a boat that would take him to Europe. He finally managed
to embark on August 10 from Montevideo, but for the purposes of his participation in Carls-
bad it was already too late. In Buenos Aires, José Pérez Mendoza and other sponsors and
organizers of chess in Argentina let Capablanca know that they would be very interested in
organizing a match between him and Dr. Lasker. That support, together with the suggestion
he had received shortly before in Germany, likely reinforced his ambitions for the title. But
it should be remembered that in a letter of November 27, 1911, Capablanca had requested
that León Paredes ask Lasker about the conditions for a match between them. Therefore, it
seems that when Capablanca sailed back to Europe on the steamer Asturias, he already had
on his mind the idea of challenging Lasker to a match for the world championship.
With the intention of making his projects public, Capablanca accepted a tour through
The Netherlands, Denmark and Germany. The Cuban arrived in Berlin the last days of Sep-
tember only to receive news that Lasker had departed from Hamburg aboard the motor ship
Amerika and was now in New York. Then, Capablanca thought about returning to America,
but he accepted invitations from Prague, Budapest, and Vienna. From this last city he sent
his challenge to Lasker (here as printed in the American Chess Bulletin, December 1911, page
267):
Dr. Emanuel Lasker,
New York:
Dear Sir:
I hereby challenge you to play me a match for the chess championship of the world.
Awaiting your reply and a statement of the terms and conditions that would be agreeable to you,
I’m very truly yours,
J.R. Capablanca
Grand Hotel, Vienna, October 26, 1911.
The world champion received this challenge in a curious manner. In a journey more
for pleasure than business or chess activities, Lasker had arrived in New York on October 7,
accompanied by Martha Kohn, whom he had married in July of that year. However, he
accepted some invitations from colleges and universities, which at the same time provided
him with a favorable platform to put forward his philosophical theories. At that time he was
working on his book Das Beigreifen der Welt (The Understanding of the Universe), in which
his conception of the fate of chess took definitive form through a character he invented and
named The Macheide (The Son of the Battle). This creature’s senses and mental abilities were
so sharp, because of his thousands of years in the struggle for life, that he always chose the
most efficient way to perpetuate himself. In the chess realm, The Macheide would necessarily
have to find the best opportunities, and that perfection would end the game. The book was
published in 1913.
This had been the subject of Lasker’s lecture that morning in the conference room of
the Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Sciences, when, at the end of it, F. D. Rosebault, whom
he recognized as the only rival he could not defeat during the session of simultaneous
games offered on October 14 at the Manhattan Chess Club, approached him. This time,
Rosebault let him know that he came as a representative of Capablanca and delivered to him
the official challenge on behalf of the Cuban. It was not a total surprise to Lasker. On Feb-
ruary 28, 1911, he had received the letter from León Paredes that asked about his willingness
to play a match with Capablanca. By then, Lasker had written in the March 15 New York
Evening Post:
Capablanca’s compatriots have a desire to see him contest the world’s championship. Today
[February 28] I received a letter from Señor Paredes of the Havana Chess Club, asking me to
play with Capablanca in the Cuban city a match of ten games up, draws not to count. This
proposition IS NOT ACCEPTABLE. In the present period of draw-making, such a match might
last half a year and longer. I’m, of course, deliberating upon my reply, but I do not think that I
shall care to play in a semi-tropical climate more than a few games.
But now it was different, since Capablanca asked him to state his conditions; and while
things were still somewhat informal, Lasker knew that he could not put aside this challenge that
would soon be universally known. Even before Lasker’s arrival to the United States, it was general
knowledge that Capablanca had intended to challenge the world champion to a match for the
Crown. So in his discretion: “This will call for a statement of the champion’s terms, after which
the principals, their backers and the public at large, will know exactly how the world’s cham-
pionship situation stands” (American Chess Bulletin, November 1911). In addition, as soon as
Lasker landed in New York he was asked if he knew about the offer of the Buenos Aires Chess
Club, which offered a purse of $5,000 for the winner and half of that figure for the defeated. It
seems that the tone of the question angered Lasker, who responded (probably in the New York
Evening Post) with displeasure that as the legitimate champion of the world, as demonstrated
on many occasions, he had the right to choose the most qualified challenger without feeling he
was forced by bids that often were made up in the air. On the other hand, argued Lasker, national
sympathy was in Capablanca’s favor in Argentina, a big psychological advantage for the Cuban.
When Lasker received the official challenge, he anticipated and prepared himself for the
siege of journalists and wrote in the New York Evening Post, November 8, 1911, page 10:
If this match should come to pass, it will probably develop into the hardest struggle that ever
was. The style of play has become sound to the core, a large proportion of drawn games are likely
to occur, and new developments in the theory of the game are bound to arise in the near future.
Under these circumstances, it would be rash to give a definitive reply to the letter without a mature
deliberation. It will take some time to work out terms and conditions upon a basis of justice to
all concerned, but I do not hesitate in declaring that in principle I am ready to defend the title.
Meanwhile, Capablanca was in London after his exhibitions in the Austro-Hungarian
Empire. His main interest was to return to the United States and meet as soon as possible
with Lasker to discuss his recent challenge. However, he agreed to three exhibitions in
England, two of them in London on November 15 and 17, and the last in Birmingham a
week later, on November 24, with overall results of 65 victories, 11 losses and 6 draws—
though one should add that he faced many first-class players.
Something out of the ordinary happened during the simultaneous match in the City
of London Chess Club on the 15th. That afternoon Capablanca had arrived in London from
Paris after the usual route of several hours train–ship–train, and that evening 28 rivals
expected him in the main club of the city. The incident did not pass unnoticed by the news-
paper The Field (1911, page 1036): “After about an hour and half ’s play, Capablanca was
overcome by a sudden lassitude of the brain, which lasted only a few minutes, and then the
indifferent moves occurred on those games with the subsequent loss of a piece.” The editor
of The Field explained that when J. Walter Russell, secretary of the institution, realized that
their guest had suffered a fainting spell, he invited him to suspend the activity until he felt
restored, which Capablanca declined and continued playing.
This episode could well be explained as a result of exhaustion after a strenuous day, but
it cannot be ignored that this was a symptom that happened in a body that looked very healthy
according to all outside appearances. According to the opinion of Dr. Orlando Hernández-
Meilán, author of a study of the illness and death of Capablanca published for the first time
as an appendix in this book, the incident of that evening was a “vasovagal” or “vagatonic”
crisis popularly known as “fatigue.” In it, the brain is not the cause, but the victim of adverse
conditions such as: a long journey, standing for a long time, and possibly dehydration. What-
ever was the real cause of the incident of that evening, this type of health episode in a man
so young is always grounds for speculation on his real clinical profile, a suspicion that increases
the more one knows the circumstances of the eventual death of the Cuban chess player.
In addition to the three simultaneous displays, Capablanca played in Sydenham, a suburb
of Birmingham, a game against three strong local players in consultation, which he won. From
this brief English tour one of the games is distinguished, outshining the others by the unusual
way in which Capablanca exploited the power of the long black diagonal a1–h8 and built a long
combination of more than ten moves. In normal circumstances this would have been a game for
an anthology, but in a simultaneous display against 28 opponents it is a phenomenal production:
Capablanca–Hubert E. Price [D00]

Simultaneous Game, Birmingham, England, 24 December 1911
1. d4 d5 2. e3 e6 3. Bd3 Bd6 4. Nd2 Nd7 5. Ngf3 f5 6. b3 Nh6 7. Bb2 Qf6 8. c4 c6
9. Qc2 0–0 10. h3 g6 11. 0–0–0 e5?! Better is 11. … Qe7 12. Kb1 a5. 12. d×e5 N×e5 13. c×d5
c×d5 14. Nc4! d×c4 15. B×c4+ Nhf7 16. R×d6 Q×d6 17. N×e5
rDwDw4kD Be6 18. Rd1 Qe7 (see diagram)
0pDw1nDp 19. N×f7 19. Rd7! B×d7 20. N×d7 Rfc8 21. Qc3 R×c4
wDwDbDpD 22. b×c4 Nd6 23. Qh8+ Kf7 24. Ne5+ Ke6 25. Q×a8 1–0. Capa-
DwDwHpDw blanca–Baca-Arús, Havana 1912. We will return to this game
wDBDwDwD later. 19. … B×f7 20. Qc3 B×c4 21. b×c4 Kf7 22. Qg7+ Ke8
DPDw)wDP 23. Q×e7+ K×e7 24. Ba3+Ke8 Or 24. … Ke6 25. B×f8 R×f8
PGQDw)PD 26. Kb2 f4 27. e4 Rc8 28. Kb3 Rc6 29. Rd5 Rb6+ 30. Rb5 Rd6
DwIRDwDw 31. Kc3 and White is winning. 25. B×f8 K×f8 26. Rd7 Rc8
After 18. … Qe7 27. R×b7 R×c4+ 28. Kb2 Black resigned 1–0.
On November 26, Capablanca boarded the Kaiserine Auguste Victoria in Southampton,

but he was late again, as his path crossed with that of Lasker in the middle of the Atlantic
Ocean. Lasker had met his schedule in the United States and departed to Europe on Novem-
ber 22. Upon landing in New York, on December 5, Rosebault gave the Cuban the answer
of the world champion (American Chess Bulletin, January 1912, pages 2–3):
New York, 21 November 1911.
Mr. José Raúl Capablanca.
Dear Sir:
I have received from Mr. Rosebault, your representative, an official communication where you
challenge me to a match where the World Chess Crown would be at stake.
Making use of my rights as a holder of that title, I inform you the conditions and clauses of
the match, which I hope will be properly interpreted and accepted by yourself.
1. The match to be six games up, draws not counting. But should neither of the contestants
score six points after thirty games had been completed, the match to end then.
2. The first winner of six games to win the match. If the match should extend to thirty
games, he who has scored the majority of points to be the winner of the match, except when the
score should be 1 to 0; 2 to 1, or 3 to 2. In these cases, as well as in case of equality of points, the
match to be declared drawn.
3. The winner of the match to be declared Chess Champion of the World, and to receive the
total stakes. In case of a draw issue, Dr. Lasker retains the title of Champion and the stakes are
returned to the backers.
4. The games of the match are the property of Dr. Lasker, who is at liberty to charge for their
viewing and their publication in any form he may deem to his advantage.
5. In case that Dr. Lasker would win the match, or that the issue is a draw, Dr. Lasker will pay
Mr. Capablanca $250 for each game won by Mr. Capablanca, and $75 for each game drawn by
Mr. Capablanca.
6. Dr. Lasker has the right to determine the beginning of the match and the locality of play.
He shall, however, give Mr. Capablanca at least four weeks’ notice of the time set for the begin-
ning, and at least two weeks’ notice for any change of locality.
7. Mr. Capablanca to deposit $2,000 with stakeholder as a guarantee that he will deposit the
stake at the appointed time; the guarantee to be fully forfeited to Dr. Lasker if Mr. Capablanca,
after promising to deposit his share of the stakes at the appointed time, does not do so.
8. Should Dr. Lasker not deposit the stakes agreed upon or should he fail to name the local-
ity of the match during the year from the present day, Mr. Capablanca is to be declared the
Chess Champion of the World and the stake deposited shall be returned to the backers.
9. The time limit shall be twelve moves an hour.
10. The play to proceed not oftener than five days per week, each play day to consist of two
sessions of two hours and a half each, one in the afternoon, the other one at night.
11. Two umpires to be named, one from the United States, the other one from Europe. In case
of need, an umpire residing in South America or in Cuba to be named also. If any dispute arises
between the contestants, the nearest one of these umpires is to be appealed to in writing. He
who protests to forward a copy of his claim to the defendant, who shall put his defense in writ-
ing, forwarding a copy of it to the claimant.
12. The play shall be governed by a director of play, who shall be in possession of a code to be
agreed upon, the games to be viewed by the second of the players, who shall be appealed of evi-
dence in all cases in dispute. The director of play to decide all disputes relating to the playing of
the games and the code.
13. Since the stakes played for in former matches were insufficient to compensate the players,
the two principals agree to raise the stakes to a higher level. Mr. Capablanca to wire to Dr.
Lasker the amount of his backing no later than two months to date of this letter, and Dr. Lasker
to determine the amount of the stakes no later than two months of Mr. Capablanca’s wire.
14. Stakeholder to be named. He shall hold the Money until the umpire in power at the con-
clusion of the match tells him how to disburse it. The interest that may have accrued on the
stakes shall be divided evenly by the two players on the conclusion of the match.
15. If one of the contestants is unable to put in an appearance at the time appointed to the play,
for any reason whatsoever, the game shall begin at the appointed time, nevertheless, as if the players
were both present; and the time limit rule shall be applied also in the absence of one of the players.
16. If neither player puts in an appearance at the time appointed for play, the clock of the
player whose turn it is to move shall be put into motion by the director of play or his substitute,
and the game shall proceed.
17. The code to be agreed upon before the beginning of the match. All dispute concerning it,
while it is in the making, to be decided by an umpire.
Waiting for your prompt reply, yours truly.
Emanuel Lasker.
The New York Evening Post (November 22, 1911) published Lasker’s conditions for the
match under the headline:
DR . L ASKER , CHAMPION, DICTATES
TERMS TO CAPABLANCA
Multitude of Conditions in World’s
Championship Match—Umpires
from Both Europe and the United
States—No offense to Asia and
Africa is intended
The Post required four of Lasker’s weekly columns to accommodate the large number
of provisions, many of them presaging a storm. The New York Evening Post wrote that it was
a “weighty matter. It is as serious as the Morocco Affair”—a conflict which then filled the
front pages of the newspapers. “It is almost as serious as football.… He [Dr. Lasker] is as
insistent over technicalities as if he was the rules committee preparing for a football season.”
In a jump to poetry, the writer could not escape the memory of the poem Casabianca, whose
parallel was not difficult to establish, given the similarity between the family names of the
young man of the epic and Lasker’s challenger: “…the gentleman whose name the first time
you hear it, sounds something like that of the boy who stood on the burning deck after
everybody else has gone, wants to be champion.”1
Meanwhile, on December 9 the Manhattan Chess Club received Capablanca with full
honors. Baseball was made present at the party when William M. Visser, who knew the
Cuban’s love for this sport, read the popular poem “Casey at the Bat,” with the implicit mes-
sage that Capablanca, in contrast to the character of the ballad who disappointed his team,
stood up in San Sebastián for the entire American continent, that was losing by a wide margin
with two outs in the ninth inning to the Europeans.2 On December 16, Capablanca sailed
to Havana, once again aboard the Saratoga. During the voyage, some travelers challenged
him to play a game or games. One of them was collected by Rogelio Caparrós in his book
The Games of José Raúl Capablanca (Chess Digest, Dallas, Texas, 1994). This game is so far
the only one whose names are known that was played by the Cuban on board ship.
Montalvo/Lewis/Alcalde—Capablanca [C50]
Casual Game on Board the Ship Saratoga, December 1911
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 d6 3. Bc4 Nc6 4. c3 Qe7 5. 0–0 g6 6. d4 Bg7 7. d×e5 Another possi-
bility is 7. Re1 Nf6 8. Nbd2 0–0 9. h3 Bd7 10. a4 Rae8 11. a5 Kh8 12. a6 b6. Delorme–
Vocaturo, Bratto 2010. And now White can play 13. d5 Nb8
rDwDw4kD 14. Bf1 with advantage. 7. … d×e5 8. Bb5 Better seems 8. b4 Be6
Dw0wDwDw 9. Qe2 Rd8 10. Nbd2 Nh6 11. Nb3 Bc8. Komliakov–Gorbatov,
p0bDqgw0 Orel 1994. And now White can play 12. a4 Nb8 (12. … 0–0
DwDw0pDw 13. b5 Nb8 14. Bg5 winning) 13. a5 Nd7 14. b5 with a better
PDwDwDwD position. 8. … Bd7 9. Na3 Nf6 10. Bg5 h6 11. B×f6 B×f6
Dw)wHNDP 12. Nc4 a6 13. B×c6 B×c6 14. Re1 b6 15. a4 0–0 16. Qc2 Qe6
w)wDQ)PD 17. Ne3 Be7 18. h3 f5 19. e×f5 g×f5 20. Qe2 Bf6 (see diagram)
$wDw$wIw 21. Nd2 White could play 21. N×f5! Q×f5 22. Qc4+ Rf7
After 20. … Bf6 23. Q×c6 with a winning position. 21. … Rad8 22. Ndf1 White
should play 22. a5 b5 23. Rad1 Rd7 24. Nf3 although Black is a little better. 22. … Kh7
23. f3 White could take the pawn with 23. Q×a6 f4 24. Qc4 Q×c4 25. N×c4 Rg8 26. g3 e4
27. a5 b×a5 28. R×a5 Bd5 but Black has full compensation for the pawn. 23. … Rg8 24. Nh2
Bg5 25. Nc4 Bf4 26. N×e5? Rd2 White resigned. 0–1.
Also it is known that in December 1914, Capablanca participated anonymously in a
game held on the high seas when he was on board the Argentine naval transport Chaco,
advising his crew in an encounter by radio against La Pampa, the other vessel accompanying
it on its way to Philadelphia, but the transcript of the game was never revealed. The crew of
the Chaco won that game to the surprise of their rivals, who were unaware that the Cuban
chess player was a passenger on the other ship.
This time, a fleet of small boats, one of which carried the municipal music band, was
waiting for Capablanca at the entrance of the Cuban capital. When the Saratoga carried out
the typical maneuver of turning toward the port to put itself in a straight line opposite the
entrance to Havana’s bay, the group of small boats placed themselves to starboard to give
escort from the narrow channel of the bay to the Muelle de Caballería, where a crowd was
waiting Capablanca. He was one of the first international symbols of a republic that in a few
months, on May 20, 1912, would reach its first 10 years of life.
On board the Saratoga there came important businessmen, some of them close to Capa-
blanca, like Manuel Rionda, his former “legal guardian” during the years of the University
of Columbia, and the millionaire Regino Truffin, a future senator of the Republic of Cuba,
who at that time was the consul of Czar Nicholas II of Russia in Havana; he would later be
key in resolving the financial problems of the Capablanca–Lasker match in 1921. Capablanca
coincided with Truffin in different boats and capital cities, as in the Morro Castle on the first
voyage made by the Cuban chess player to New York in 1904. The possibility should not be
dismissed that during the current voyage Capablanca informed Truffin about the status of
his negotiations with Lasker, as well as the need of financial support for the match. While
the festivities to honor Capablanca were prepared in Cuba, he sent his response to Lasker
(in English, as printed in the American Chess Bulletin, February 1912, pages 26–31).
December 20, 1911.
Dr. Emanuel Lasker.
Dear Sir,
I am in receipt of your communication on 21 November, enclosing the conditions for a match
with me, and asking whether I maintain my challenge. In reply I will say that I do maintain my
challenge, but that I take exception to some of the conditions you have seen fit to impose (see
attachments).
Frankly, these conditions come as a great surprise to me. I expected that you might ask for
somewhat higher stakes, and I was prepared to meet that demand. I also thought you might stip-
ulate that fewer wins should be required. But I took it for granted that the fundamental condi-
tions of the match would be similar, if not identical, to those that have prevailed in practically all
the important matches of the past. I had even hoped that your conditions might be such that I
would be able to accept them in every detail without comment or objection, and I very much
regret to observe that you have made that impossible.
In preparing my answer I have endeavored to state my case and make plain my objections
without being offensive; nor do I mean to jockey with you for minor advantages. All I ask is a
square deal and an even chance—which the best man may win.
Sincerely yours,
J.R. Capablanca
(1) It is agreeable to me that the match be one of “six game up, draws not counting,” but I
object to the clause limiting the contest to 30 games. Such an arrangement would increase
unnecessarily the likelihood of the match ending in a draw, and since you would retain your title
of the drawn match, the unfairness of this condition is obvious.
(2) I cannot agree to your provision that should the match be won by score of 1 to 0, 2 to 1,
or 3 to 2, it would be declared drawn, and you retain the title. For in chess, as in other sports
and contests, a win is always a win and must be considered no matter how slight the margin.
And should the match end with one of these scores, it would be looked upon by the chess public
as a match won and lost, regardless of what we might agree to call it. Moreover, such a match
would not be an even match, but would be more in the nature of a handicap contest, wherein I,
as the challenger for your title, would be compelled to give you a handicap of one game. I do not
presume to be able to do that, nor do I believe that you insist upon my doing it. And to consider
this question from the opposite standpoint, what have I to gain by such an agreement? Should
you beat me by the score 3 to 2, for example, I would be beaten, would consider myself beaten,
and would be so considered by the world. Now would I, in such a case, gain anything whatever,
in money, in title or reputation by your agreeing to call the match drawn? For the fact that I had
been beaten would still remain.
(3) Quite satisfactory, provided that paragraphs 1 and 2 are properly amended so that the
chances of a drawn issue resulting in this match will not be materially greater than was the case
in matches of the past.
(4 & 5) The conditions of these paragraphs are not acceptable. A chess game, from its very
nature and the manner of its productions, must be the joint property of the two persons produc-
ing it. Whatever is paid or subscribed by clubs or individuals for viewing the games of this match
should be divided, so much to the winner, and so much to the loser, as is customary in such
cases. You will permit me to here quote you, by way of precedent, the financial agreement under
which you offered to play for the championship with Janowsky [sic] in 1899, and with Marshall
in 1904, and which I find in the December 1904 issue of Lasker’s Chess Magazine: “All monies
accruing to the match-players,” you there provide, “from contributions of clubs or other institu-
tions and from the publication of the games to be equally divided between the two opponents.”
Why are you not willing to offer me the same terms? Or if you would prefer to have all such
monies go to the winner of the match, together with the total stakes, that would be agreeable to
me. But however the money from clubs, etc., may be divided, a sufficient amount should first be
set aside to cover the necessary expenses of both players during the course of the match. You can
charge what you like for the publications of the games in any forms you may deem to your
advantage. But, unfortunately, that is a common privilege, of which anyone may take advantage.
(6) Agreed that you shall name the locality or localities in which the match shall be played,
but other things being equally desirable, or nearly so, the place or places offering the best com-
pensation should be selected. Agreed that you shall name the dates on which play shall start, but
it would be out of the question for me to commence play on four weeks’ notice; in fact, it might
be a physical impossibility for me to reach the appointed place in that time, to say nothing of the
condition that I might be in upon my arrival. In view of these and other obvious objections to
my entering upon such a match without ample notice, I must insist upon being notified of the
place and date, or approximate date, at least three months in advance thereof. And even upon
that notice would not have nearly as much time nor so good an opportunity to prepare myself as
you will have.
(7) I consider $2,000 as a forfeit excessive. And whatever I deposit you should put up a like
amount. You will recall that when you played with Steinitz you deposited as a forfeit only $250,
and Steinitz deposited a like amount. But as I am agreeing to an increase in the purse (number
13), so would I agree to a proportionate increase in the amount of the forfeit. This, however,
only provided the increase in the latter, as well as in the former instance, shall affect both parties,
the challenged as well as the challenger, equally. You could hardly expect me to agree to any
unprecedented increase that would not work both ways.
(8) Satisfactory.
(9) Under no circumstances would I play a match at 12 moves per hour. Custom has estab-
lished a time limit of 15 moves per hour for important matches. It was at this time limit that you
won your championship title and have since defended it. Dr. Tarrasch wanted to play you at 12
moves per hour but with him you refused that limit, insisting upon the customary 15 moves per
hour. And you cannot now consistently demand a slower time limit.
(10) Sessions of 2 and a half hours each are altogether too short. Playing at 15 moves per
hour, each player would make only about 19 moves in that time. And then, before the game was
really well started, we could adjourn for 2 hours of analysis, after which we would play another
19 moves, or so; and then adjourn until the next day. Such an affair would not be an over-the-
board match, but more in the nature of an analytical contest, and that was not what I had in
mind when I challenged you. I believe each session of play should last for at least six hours, with-
out interruption.
(11) Satisfactory.
(12) Satisfactory, provided that, if deemed necessary, appeal may be taken from rulings of
director of play to nearest umpire.
(13) It is the opinion of the principals and, I think, of the chess public as well, that the stakes
played for in former matches were insufficient to properly compensate the players, hence, it is
agreed that the stakes shall be raised to a higher level. I regret, however, that I will not be able to
notify you of the amount of my backing until I know the amount that will be required, as the
former will greatly depend on the latter. Of course, if you wish me to name the amount of the
stakes, I will do that; but if you are to name the amount, you must do so without more definitive
advice from me. I should be allowed three months’ time in which to raise the necessary backing.
(14) Should be more definite regarding umpires’ power to order disbursement, but otherwise
satisfactory.
(15) Satisfactory, excepting that provision should be made allowing each player to absent
himself at least twice during the match, upon proper notice because of possible indisposition.
(16) Satisfactory.
(17) Satisfactory.
While Lasker weighed his reply to Capablanca’s letter, in Havana they were preparing
the festivities to honor the young idol, including a diverse show in the court of Basque pilota
known as the Frontón Jai Alai. At the ceremony, as reported by a journalist, “They are final-
izing the costumes representing the chess pieces that will be worn by the children trained to
the movements in the game. The party will take place on the evening of Sunday, December
24, and it is such a festive atmosphere that there are only six boxes available….”3 Three photos
and the game with the living pieces were included in a broad review in the El Fígaro, Decem-
ber 30, 1911. It is not clear if the game was composed in advance. But this is usually done
and the game was similar until a certain point to one that Capablanca lost in a simultaneous
display in England. This game is published for the first time in a book about Capablanca.
Capablanca–Juan Corzo [C64]

Game with living pieces, Havana, 24 December 1911
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Bc5 4. c3 f5 5. e×f5 Nowadays the main variation is 5. d4
f×e4 6. B×c6 d×c6 7. N×e5 Qd5 8. Bf4 Bd6 9. c4 Qe6 10. Qh5+ g6 11. Qe2 Nf6 12. Nd2
with chances for both sides. 5. … Qf6 If 5. … e4 6. d4 e×f3 7. d×c5 Qe7+ 8. Be3 f×g2 9. Rg1
Nf6 10. R×g2 0–0 11. Nd2 d5 12. c×d6 c×d6 13. Qc2 Ne5. Unzicker–Campora, Bern
1987. And now White can play 14. 0–0–0 Nfg4 15. Qb3+ Kh8 16. Bd4 B×f5 17. Rdg1 with
advantage (Unzicker). 6. Qe2 Stronger is 6. d4 e×d4 7. 0–0 Nge7 8. Bg5 Q×f5 9. B×c6 d×c6
10. Re1 d×c3 11. N×c3. Barroso Villarin–Jung, correspondence game, 1983, with a big advan-
tage for White. 6. … Nge7 7. 0–0 Q×f5 8. d4 e×d4 9. B×c6 Better is 9. Bg5 0–0 10. B×e7
N×e7 11. c×d4 Bd6 12. Bc4+ Kh8 13. Nc3 and White is a little better. 9. … d×c6 Better is
9. … d3! 10. Qd1 d×c6 11. Re1 0–0 with advantage for Black. 10. c×d4 Bd6 11. Bg5 Be6?
A big mistake. 12. Re1 Kd7 (see diagram)
13. B×e7! A few weeks before, on November 15, Capablanca
rDwDwDw4 had played Black in a simultaneous game in London against J.H.
0p0khw0p Blake, who would be British Correspondence Champion in 1922:
wDpgbDwD 13. d5? B×d5 14. B×e7 Rae8 15. Ne5+ K×e7 16. Qd3 Kf6
DwDwDqGw 17. Q×f5+ K×f5 18. Nd3 Bc4 and Black has a winning position.
wDw)wDwD 13. … K×e7 14. d5 c×d5 15. Nd4 B×h2+ If 15. … Qf4
DwDwDNDw 16. Q×e6+ Kd8 17. Q×d5 Q×h2+ 18. Kf1 Qh1+ 19. Ke2 Re8+
P)wDQ)P) 20. Ne6+ and wins. 16. K×h2 Qf4+ 17. Kg1 Q×d4 18. Q×e6+
$NDw$wIw Kd8 19. Nc3 c6 20. N×d5 c×d5 21. Rad1 Quicker is 21. Qd6+
After 12. … Kd7 Kc8 22. Rac1+ Qc4 23. R×c4+ d×c4 24. Re7 and mate in the
next move. 21. … Qf6 22. R×d5+ Kc7 23. Qd7+ And here
23. Rc5+ Kb8 24. Qe8+ is quicker. 23. … Kb8 24. Re6 Qf4 25. Re8+ R×e8 26. Q×e8+
Kc7 27. Qd7+ Kb6 28. Rb5+ Black resigned 1–0.
Corzo played down the drama of the game when he resigned, since one of the most
emotive elements in the choreography of a game with living pieces is the final act, as when
in a bullfight the matador stands on the tips of his feet for the final thrust: 28. … Ka6
29. Q×b7mate. It probably happened because it was the first of its kind in the island, and
the mise-en-scène was not yet well polished. Maybe it was not a game previously arranged
and Corzo tried to follow the line played by J.H. Blake in England. In the next, played by
Capablanca on January 17, 1912, in Matanzas, against Felipe Vallée, perhaps the mistake was
corrected, but unfortunately the game was not saved. The ceremony in the Frontón Jai Alai,
in addition to being the first living chess game in Cuba, according to the weekly newspaper
El Fígaro from December 30,4 showed up how much the figure of Capablanca had permeated
the Cuban population: The president of the Republic himself, General José Miguel Gómez,
urged the initiation of a national collection to give a home to the young prodigy, which he
lacked on the island. When Capablanca traveled to Cuba, he had to stay in hotels or in his
parents’ home, still occupied by his numerous unmarried brothers and sisters.
Meanwhile, the English master Amos Burn returned to the theme of the world cham-
pionship in the Liverpool Courier of January 19, 1912, when he considered that “the condi-
tions … were so much in favor of Lasker that it was doubtful whether Capablanca would
agree to them without modification.” Burn recalled that the “World Champion” title had
been granted to Steinitz by consensus of public opinion, and if this body could grant it, it
could also remove it. So he warned Lasker that his attempt to impose unequal terms in the
defense of his title “not only would soon alienate the sympathy of the chess world, but he
may, even without being defeated in any match, cease to be recognized as champion.”
Lasker did not respond personally to Burn or the last letter from the Cuban, but after
that he made his comments through the press. In a article published in the New York Evening
Post from January 20 and dated 12 days earlier he wrote:
Berlin, January 8.—The letter written by Capablanca, in reply to my conditions for a world’s
championship chess match, is a remarkable document which reveals the combative nature of the
young Cuban, as well as his lack of veneration. He fights for the smallest of advantages than can
be grasped and seen in a spirit of animosity. He asks my conditions, yet in fact imposes his own.
He is offensive, charging me with an “obvious unfairness.” One wonders whether he expects an
older man, who started an honorable career twenty years ago, to sit down with him at the same
chessboard after such a letter. If Capablanca thinks that’s possible, his knowledge of human
nature is at fault.
After having carefully read Capablanca’s letter, I still think that my conditions are perfectly
just. It is true that I reserved two advantages—the possession of the title of champion in case of a
drawn match, and the larger share of the proceeds of the games, and for good reasons. That so
slight a difference in the score as 1 to 0 with the twenty-nine draws, or 3–2 and twenty-five draws
should decide a contest for the championship and a stake of probably no inconsiderable amount
would not be assuring to backers, nor would such arrangement be wholly satisfactory to the
chess public, and the rule posed by me protects him who has lost a game in the beginning
against losing the match by drawn games. It is therefore likely to raise the level of play. Besides,
2–0 or 3–1 or 4–3 would be sufficient to win the match, even though the remainder of the
thirty games would be drawn. I had to beat Steinitz ten times to win the title of champion. And
the match did not extend to thirty games, but only to nineteen, and that is the longest match I
have ever played.
Again, that I reserved for myself the larger share of the proceeds of the games was perfectly
right. It is my reputation which makes the games I play valuable. I do not need Capablanca as
partner to that end.
The letter of Capablanca judges itself. He has tried to impose his conditions upon me, and I
consider his challenge made void by the act and myself at liberty to accept a challenge from any-
one else. If he chooses to protest, I will abide by the decision of [Mr. Shipley of ] the Franklin
Chess Club of Philadelphia or any one that gentleman will be inclined to name.
In a letter of January 1912 to Rolando Illa in Argentina, Capablanca said in the collo-
quial language he used only with his close friends, “Lasker has fearitis” … or, “as Mexicans
say, the man backed off.” The battle that followed in the newspapers had one of its moments
of maximum intensity on February 20, when Lasker wrote to Walter Penn Shipley, to whom
both sides asked to be the mediator in the dispute, that Capablanca “has aimed a deliberate
blow against my professional honor. I therefore broke off all direct negotiations with him.…”
Shipley wrote to Lasker in late April: “From the published correspondence, I do not see that
Capablanca intended to charge you with being unfair or to strike a blow against your pro-
fessional honor. In fact, it is my belief that he had not such intentions.”5
Meanwhile, some newspapers turned to historical memory, recalling that the case was
not new, since years ago, when Steinitz faced Zukertort, much time passed from the moment
of the challenge until the match began. But they added that unlike the 19th century, the
20th was the one of electricity rather than steam, and so everything had to be faster, even
the negotiations for a chess match. Other newspapers commented that the epistolary battle
between Lasker and Capablanca humiliated the history of chess. They remembered the times
of the Frenchmen Louis-Charles Mahé de la Bourdonnais and Pierre Charles Fournier de
Saint-Amant and the Irish Alexander McDonnell, in which poems served to celebrate the
triumphs over the board. And as evidence of this ethical deterioration, they compared the
famous Marco Aurelio Vila Geronimo composition titled Scachia Ludu with what they con-
sidered to be the prosaic paragraphs of Lasker and Capablanca. They also recalled that in
1836, the Frenchman Joseph Méry described in Alexandrian verses one of the most notable
games of the match between de la Bourdonnais and McDonnell, under the title “Une
Revanche de Waterloo” (“Revenge for Waterloo”). Chess went then hand in hand with taste
and literary exquisiteness, and this was in evidence even in the controversial correspondence,
as Saint-Amant, finding a clause from Howard Staunton prohibiting the entrance of the
public into the chamber of the games, expressed with these verses his disagreement: “Oeil
du public est aiguillon du gloire … en vaut mieux quand on est regardé ” (“Public eyes are the
sting of glory … it is worthy when one is observed”). And they concluded that modern mas-
ters, from their arid and commercial style, had achieved the opposite.
But what was then the real playing strength of Capablanca? Later, in My Chess Career,
the Cuban expressed his opinion about his playing strength at the end of the San Sebastián
tournament:
With respect to the quality of my game during the Tournament my opinion is that I was already
able to see the possibilities of a given position fully as well as any other. I could wade through
very long combinations accurately, and see the chances for a successful attack. The direct attacks
against the king were carried out without flaws. The endings were up to the highest standards,
some players thinking that I played them better than Lasker himself, until then reputed to have
no equal. I do not believe that I played them better, but just as well. I had to learn a great deal
about openings, something about the mere play for position in the middle-game, where no com-
binations can be made, and to build up positions capable of holding or attacking successfully the
enemy [Hardinge Simpole, England, 2003, edition, pages 69–70, original edition pages 145–146].
Some years later Capablanca examined his chances rationally had the match been played.
By then he concluded that Lasker would have beaten him. Capablanca said that Lasker’s
postponement of the match, hoping no doubt for some fortuitous accident to make it unat-
tainable, was a thoughtless act, a notable blunder on his side, which was doomed to be fatal
to him. When Lasker’s response was published, Cuba was living a chess-euphoria like never
before. The chronicles of the time informed readers about successive births of chess clubs
and the commitment of the institutions to promote the practice of the game in their rooms.
Everything happened so fast that the Cuban master was involved in a tour of simultaneous
exhibitions that took him from Pinar del Río to Santiago de Cuba, with stops in Matanzas,
Colón, Cárdenas, Caibarién, Cienfuegos and Sagua la Grande.
During the tour, Capablanca gave several sessions of simultaneous displays whose results
have not been included in other books. For example, he played in Cárdenas on February 19,
1912, against 23 opponents with a score of 22 wins and a draw against the ladies “Cuca”
Martínez de Viña and Esperanza Viñas, who played in consultation. In the city of Caibarién,
he faced 13 rivals, winning 12 and drawing against Miss Amparo Massaguer. In the southern
city of Cienfuegos, Capablanca faced and defeated 28 opponents on January 29. In some
places his exhibitions were limited to games with living pieces, such as on January 17 in
Matanzas against Felipe Vallée; January 21 in Cárdenas against the local champion Pablo
Muro, in a game that lasted 37 moves; and on February 19 in Sagua la Grande, where his
rival was José Someillán, considered the best player in town. None of those three cases was
refereed, as if they were games previously composed to enhance the beauty of the show. In
addition, he played blindfold games against several rivals in the Spaniard Club of Caibarién,
at a date which has not been specified. The incomplete outcome of this tour through the
interior of Cuba was 64 games, of which he won 62 and drew 2, plus a blindfold game and
three with living pieces, winning those four as well.
Capablanca was so busy during January 1912 in Cuba that he apparently forgot to
respond to Jacques Mieses as to whether he was going to participate in the second tournament
of San Sebastián. Urgent telegrams of Mieses to Helms and Cassel were signs that their com-
munication with the Cuban had been cut. It is not known if the mysterious M. Marquet
contributed on this occasion to the prize of the tournament. At that time, Márquez Sterling
was the ambassador of Cuba in Perú, a scene very distant from Ostend or San Sebastián.
The route of Capablanca to learn “more about Cuba” led him to the southeastern city of
Santiago de Cuba, where he arrived by train, and where they played a game of baseball whose
revenue was given to him as part of the national campaign “may the prodigal son have a
home.”6
From that trip to Santiago de Cuba there is a picture of Capablanca mounted on a
white horse at the farm Santa Lucía in the Chaparra sugar mill, managed by General Mario
García Menocal, who just over one year later, on May 20, 1913, was sworn in as third president
of the Republic of Cuba. The image of the rider was so unprecedented that the journal La
Discusión published it on its front page under the headline: “Raúl Capablanca in the Chap-
arra sugar mill.”7
Capablanca returned on March 16, 1912, to Havana from this tour, the longest he made
through Cuban lands. The Havana Chess Club gave him a gold medal; the students of the
high school of Havana presented him a watch that had an engraved dedication and the
Asturian Center prepared him a great feast for his success. He was also awarded the Artistic
Medal, which, until then, had been granted only to the pro-independence fighter General
Máximo Gómez. During this stay of almost four months in Cuba, from December 20, 1911,
to April 12, 1912, Capablanca embarked on his two most ambitious publishing projects on
Chess masters play with horses (knights) but do not usually mount them. This is an exception.
It was published in the newspaper La Discusión, October 27, 1912, but its caption states it hap-
pened during February at the Chaparra sugar mill, whose manager was General Mario García
Menocal, future president of Cuba. Capablanca not only rode Menocal’s favorite horse but also
used his farm clothes and hat (courtesy Mercedes Capablanca).
the island: the printing of the Capablanca Magazine and a Sunday chess column in the Diario
de la Marina. The first issue of the magazine, with 16 pages, appeared on April 25, instead
of the scheduled April 15, and its editorship fell on the shoulders of Juan Corzo. It was in
the second issue of the Capablanca Magazine, on May 15, 1912, that the Cuban master com-
mented on the Spielmann–Tarrasch game of the tournament of San Sebastián 1912, showing
the theme of locking an enemy piece right out of the game. This theme of the entombed
piece would recur later in the games of the Cuban. For example: against William Winter
(White) at Hastings 1919, and against Bogoljubow (Black) in London 1922.
Rudolf Spielmann–Siegbert Tarrasch [C80]

San Sebastián, 12 March 1912
(Annotated by Capablanca)
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. 0–0 N×e4 This and the following two
moves constitute the Vienna Defense, condemned until recently but revised by Schlechter
in his famous match against the world champion, Dr. Lasker, in 1910. 6. d4 b5 7. Bb3 d5
8. a4 Played by Lasker against Schlechter in the above-mentioned match, but no doubt infe-
rior to the normal continuation 8. d×e5. 8. … N×d4 The correct move. 9. N×d4 e×d4
10. Nc3 This same move was played by Maróczy against Dr. Tarrasch in San Sebastian in
1911. It is known that Tarrasch is very studious and having been caught once in the hook by
Maróczy it was not expected that he would allow himself to be caught again in the mousetrap
without having something prepared. Spielmann lost this game more through a lack of sense
of reality than anything else [A.N.: Better seems 10. a×b5 Bc5 11. c3 0–0 12. c×d4 Bb6
13. Nc3 Bb7 14. b×a6 B×a6 15. Re1 Qf6 16. Be3 c6 with an even game. Stoltz–Bogoljubow,
Munich 1941]. 10. … N×c3 This is the key to the entire variation, which Tarrasch had been
awaiting. 11. b×c3 c5 A move discovered by Kostić, the young Hungarian master, and doubt-
less the best [A.N.: Also possible is 11. … Be6 12. c×d4 Bd6 13. f4 0–0 14. f5 Qh4 15. h3
Bd7 16. B×d5 c6 17. Bb3 c5 18. Bd5 Rac8 19. a×b5 a×b5 20. d×c5 B×c5+ 21. Kh1 Qf6
draw. Natskar–Andreassen, correspondence game, 2007–2008]. 12. a×b5 Be7 13. Qf3 Incor-
rect, as the White bishop is paralyzed for the rest of the game. Better is 13. c4. 13. … Be6
14. R×a6 [A.N.: Better is 14. c×d4 a×b5 15. R×a8 Q×a8 16. d×c5 0–0 17. Rd1 d4 18. B×e6
Q×f3 19. g×f3 f×e6 20. R×d4 B×c5 21. Rd3 Rc8 draw. Möwig–Wagner, Cologne 1911]
14. … 0–0 15. c×d4 c4 All this [so far] is Kostić’s analysis. 16. Ba2 If 16. Ba4 Bd7 17. Q×d5
R×a6 18. b×a6 B×a4 19. Q×c4 Qa5 [A.N.: Better is 19. … Qd7! winning] 20. Bd2! Qb5
21. Q×b5 B×b5 22. Re1 Bf6 23. a7 B×d4 24. Be3 although Black can equalize with 24. …
B×e3 25. R×e3 Ra8 26. Re7 g6 27. Rb7 Bc6 28. Rc7 Bd5 29. Kf1 Kg7 30. c4 B×c4+ 31. R×c4
R×a7) But decisive is 19. …Qd7! winning. 16. … R×a6 17. b×a6
Qa5 18. Bb1 (see diagram) wDwDw4kD
18. … c3 With this move the bishop is fastened in chains DwDwgp0p
per secula seculorum. It may be said there is no remedy for White. PDwDbDwD
19. Qg3 This way of defending does not seem good to me, but 1wDpDwDw
it is impossible to indicate the right move. 19. … Rc8 20. f4 Bad, wDp)wDwD
because it creates a hole at e4 for the enemy bishop. 20. … Bf5 DwDwDQDw
21. Re1 Bf6 22. Kh1 h6 Black is not in a hurry and prepares his wDPDw)P)
play. 23. h3 Rb8 Forcing 24. Be3. Black did not take the d pawn DBGwDRIw
so as to keep White completely enclosed. Besides, he can win the After 18. Bb1
d pawn when he likes. 24. Be3 Q×a6 25. Rd1 Qa1 26. Qe1 Be4 27. Kh2 Be7 28. Qf1 f5
29. Re1 Bh4 30. g3 Now the bishop at e4 is extremely powerful. White has no remedy.
30. … Be7 31. Bf2 Bd6 32. Rc1 Kh7 33. Re1 Rb6 A waste of time. As it will be seen later,
this was not necessary; but Tarrasch, able to do what he wants, tries to threaten everything
possible at the same time. … Rg6 for instance. 34. Rc1 Ba3 35. Re1 Qb2 36. Qe2 Rb4
Entirely unnecessary. 37. Rg1 Rb6 38. Re1 Qb5 39. Qh5 This helps the opponent, who
takes advantage of it. 39. … Q×b1 40. R×b1 R×b1 41. g4 Bc1 The strongest, and now it is
all over. Spielmann resigned. If 42. Kg3 g6 43. Qh4 B×f4+ 44. K×f4 and Black wins. 0–1.
Capablanca’s Sunday chess column in Diario de la Marina began on March 31, 1912,
and ended on June 30, 1913. It was there that he first published the text which he later
expanded and used for his elementary book Cartilla de Ajedrez, 1913. Capablanca also pub-
lished a book about the tournament in Havana in 1913. At the time Capablanca sometimes
included in his exhibitions blindfold games. At a banquet at the Louvre restaurant, one of
his assistants proposed that he add a game of that type in his next séance in the Politeama
Theater on April 8, where they were preparing a farewell artistic function. There is no doubt
that the result—versus Jaime Baca-Arús—was a game made up for attendees’ enjoyment,
since it was taken from his victory over H.E. Price, played in Birmingham on November 24,
1911, shown earlier in the present work. Capablanca, of course, never assumed his victory
over Baca-Arús to have been a real contest. Corzo published the game in the April 25 edition
of the Capablanca Magazine at a time when Capablanca was out of Cuba. And as Hooper
and Brandreth observed, maybe Capablanca could not alert his tireless collaborator to the
lack of validity of the game. A sample of how slowly chess information traveled those days
is that Réti included this game in his book Modern Ideas in Chess (1923), even though the
victory of Capablanca over Price had been reproduced in the Sunday Times of London on
December 3, 1911, as well as in other British media at the end of this year and early in 1912.
The game Capablanca–Baca Arús also appeared in the book Het Schaakphenomeen Capa-
blanca by Max Euwe and Lodewijk Prins (1949).
Hopes for a world championship match between Capablanca and Lasker began to van-
ish with the end of the Cuban spring. But day after day the idea of a super tournament from
which, according to the tempers, the winner would be declared champion or the official
challenger to Lasker, was growing. Havana launched the idea by contributing 4,000 dollars
to the financing of such an event, provided that the second half of the competition would
be held in this city. And so began a public collection to gather the necessary funds for the
“Great Tournament New York–Havana,” as it was already called in Cuba. The first institu-
tions to respond were the Havana Chess Club and the Union Club with 500 pesos (equal
to 500 dollars) each, and the newspaper La Prensa with 200 pesos. Shortly before Capablanca
embarked to New Orleans on April 12 on board the ship Excelsior, the mayor of Havana
announced a line of credit of 3,000 pesos to help finance the event.
In the July issue of the American Chess Bulletin, Capablanca “suggested an international
championship tournament, properly endowed, to which international Tournament winners
and others entitled by their records to compete shall be eligible.” This proposal, which imme-
diately found the support of Tarrasch, was almost tantamount to a coup d’état against Lasker’s
champion title. Lasker, of course, refused to participate in a competition in which he would
have to enter as one of those who aspired to the throne. The world champion said he was
willing to attend the tournament if such a clause was eliminated and Capablanca was
excluded, unless the Cuban apologized publicly for besmirching his honor. In this case, and
with the payment of $5,500 as fees, of which they should send him $2,500 together with
the contract of invitation, Lasker would be willing to participate.
Meanwhile, Capablanca arrived in New Orleans on April 14 as part of his interrupted
tour of exhibitions in the United States. The Cuban fulfilled commitments in many towns
and villages who already knew him since the previous year, such as New Orleans, St. Louis,
Lincoln, Sioux City and Minneapolis. But on this occasion he traveled north to Winnipeg,
a Canadian city he had never before visited, and where, as he described in the Capablanca
Magazine, “there was great interest among fans to see what result he had compared to what
all masters who had visited it before had done.” The comparison could not have been more
convincing because he won all the games played there in two displays against 20 opponents
each, on May 14 and 15. There was also interest in seeing him in San Francisco and Los Angeles,
but Capablanca shortened the route and traveled to New York, where he arrived on Monday,
September 4, with the idea of returning to Cuba, as the weeks passed and the funds promised
by the municipality of Havana for the super tournament did not materialize.
The result of the six-week tour was 316 wins, 10 losses and 3 draws, according to the
computation offered by Hooper and Brandreth, who identify the effort as the “4th U.S.
Tour.” But to Capablanca, for purposes of promotion, the tour had started months earlier,
on December 5, with his exhibitions in New York, Newark and Philadelphia before a Christ-
mas break in Cuba. In this case, following his reasoning (1911–1912 tour), the result was 394
wins, 18 losses and 6 draws. However, Capablanca played at least 19 other games in one
simultaneous exhibition on May 17 in Boston, a city in which “I finished my tournée with
the result of 18 wins and a draw.” Totals then offered in the Diario de la Marina on June 23,
1912, “410 games played, of which I lost 10, drew 5 and won 396,” mismatch both results.
For this tour of simultaneous exhibitions, Capablanca had prepared in 1911, together
with his commercial partner Frederick D. Rosebault, the promotional brochure A Brief
Review of the Chess Record of Jose Raul Capablanca, and the Official Announcement of His
Fourth American Tour 1911–1912, to send to the institutions interested in his performances.
This is evidence that the Cuban took his career very seriously and presented his exhibits in
a professional form. From that time came several of his most famous youthful images taken
in photographic studies in New York, and then sent as elements of advertising to clubs and
newspapers and also sold autographed.8
The Cuban departed back to Cuba on September 7 aboard the steamer Saratoga. A
press wire reported he traveled accompanied by a lady whom he had espoused in the United
States. Many came to the Havana port with flowers for the bride, but discovered that there
was no such bride and that apparently it had been just a love affair. Two months later, the
American Chess Bulletin, in a summary of several events in the life of the Cuban, still identified
the lady who went to bid him goodbye to the port as “Mrs. Capablanca”: “Capablanca sailed
for Havana. Mrs. Capablanca was at the steamer to see him off, but not wishing to court the
Cuban climate at that season of the year, did not accompany her husband” (American Chess
Bulletin, November 1912, page 252).
Earlier, in the weekly column “Chess” in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle on Thursday, August
29, 1912, the following story had appeared:
Capablanca is Mated.—It has just come to be known in chess circles that Jose R. Capablanca
figured recently as the principal at a quiet wedding ceremony held in Summit, N.J. The bride
comes from a prominent family which would naturally attach to the marriage of so widely
known a public figure as the Cuban Champion, and the latter therefore made the announcement
only to his intimates. Mated so early in life, it does not follow that the young master will not
continue to checkmate many an opponent on the checkered square.
On Thursday, September 3, the affair was mentioned again in the same column: “Capa-
blanca, who surprised his friends by his recent marriage,” etc. So it was not strange that they
believed it in Havana. The matter became another mystery around the figure of the Cuban,
because the information in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle contained elements that seemed credible.
After the denial in Havana and the return of Capablanca to New York, the subject was not
mentioned again, except as part of a summary of recent events commented on above.9
When Capablanca arrived in Havana and was asked about his wedding, he said that such
information was not true, “because it was missing the main piece, the bride.” In the journal
Diario de la Marina of September 11, 1912, Capablanca stated that he was still unmarried.
The issue was not mentioned again until January 21, 1921, when announcing his marriage
to Gloria Simoni, in the Diario de la Marina Habaneras section it appeared that Capablanca
was a “reoffender,” which gave readers to understand, wrongly, that it was not his first mar-
riage.
Capablanca’s return to Cuba was intended to speed up and increase the support for the
super tournament of New York–Havana, whose budget in that period had risen from $4,000
to $7,500. In this regard he received assurances from the capital’s wealthiest Spanish groups,
such as the Centro Asturiano and the Casino Español, where the matches between Steinitz
and Chigorin had been played, as well as from the Asociación de Dependientes del Comercio
and the Asociación Canaria. Tournament promotions still insisted that its purpose was to
proclaim the winner as “world champion.” The Cuban master showed his concern and anger
over the lack of support in his report on August 18, 1912, for the Diario de la Marina: “The
next tournament will be the one that will start [in New York] on 30 November of the current
year whose second part will be played in Havana, Cuba, if the government, companies and
the public want to give me the opportunity to obtain the title of champion of the world.
Now, if Cuba does not care whether or not I will be the world champion, then there is
nothing to say.”
Meanwhile, the coup de grâce to the Lasker–Capablanca match came on August 21,
1912, when Lasker reported in a letter dated August 9 from Berlin that Rubinstein accepted
the same regulations he had sent the Cuban to play a match for the championship of the
world. As stated, this match, Lasker–Rubinstein, never took place. Many years later, in 1927,
in a vignette about Rubinstein published in the Argentinian newspaper Crítica (September
13, 1927), Capablanca speculated that Rubinstein would not have been able to beat Lasker
in a match for the crown, although he considered him as the most qualified opponent of the
champion in 1912. In the Cuban’s opinion Lasker was too strong tactically while Rubinstein
had some vulnerable flaws. According to his criterion, if a player had a vulnerable spot, that
was enough to be defeated by Lasker.
On September 15, Capablanca published for the first time in Diario de la Marina his
ideas to put an end to the chaos that existed in the process of the world chess championships.
According to his plans, once the projected tournament was finished:
The players who take part shall agree on a code of rules to govern all the future “matches” for
the Championship of the World. Each competitor will have to compromise that if he wins the
title he will have to defend it in accordance with the provisions of the code. It will thus not only
determine the Universal Championship definitively but, what is more important, will regularize
in a definite way all future races for the Championship in equal conditions for both sides.
This is evidence that a decade before the so-called London Rules of 1922, Capablanca
felt that there was a need for a regulation that governed the manner in which the highest-
level chess competitions would be held, and wished it were approved in a democratic way
by the leading masters. In St. Petersburg 1914 he insisted on the theme.
Capablanca returned on October 15 to New York from Havana, on board the Morro
Castle, for two series of three games against Charles Jaffe and Oscar Chajes. He defeated Jaffe
with 2 wins and 1 draw, and won the only game against Chajes, who withdrew after his first
loss. At the end of November 1912, it was clear that the super tournament to settle the crown,
or at least the candidate to play against Lasker, had been shipwrecked. Nobody fully explained
what happened, except for a letter from Rosebault in which he accused several financiers and
patrons, never identified, of not fulfilling their promises. As a result, the money for the
tickets to travel to New York from Bremen, Germany, was never sent to several European
masters. Shortly after that, Capablanca broke off all further dealings with Rosebault.
Capablanca announced in his Diario de la Marina column on December 12 that “it is
very likely that within a few days I will go out to Havana to spend a few days with my family.”
The same chronicle revealed that his differences with the Manhattan Chess Club had been
arranged in a friendly manner. And for the first time, on that occasion he commented on a
game by the player who would be his great rival in chess, Alekhine, whom then he identified
as A. Alechin. But he did not pay much attention to him, despite the fact that the young
Russian had already triumphed at the tournament in Stockholm, 1912, above Marco, Olland
and Spielmann.
Alexander A. Alekhine–Aron I. Nimzowitsch [A46]

Russian Championship, Vilnius, 19 August 1912
(Annotated by Capablanca, Diario de la Marina, 15 December 1912)
1. d4 Nf6 2. Nf3 d6 Niemzowitch [sic] in this way prevents the well-trodden path
of the Queen Pawn Opening as it is generally played. 3. Bg5 Bf5 4. B×f6 [A.N.: 4. e3
Nbd7 5. Bd3 B×d3 6. Q×d3 d5 7. c4 c6 8. Nc3 Qa5 9. c×d5 N×d5 10. 0–0 h6 11. Bh4
e6 and White is better. Djerfi–Pavlović, Belgrade 2009.] White should continue now
with 12. e4 N×c3 13. b×c3 Bd6 14. Rab1 Nb6 15. c4 Qa6 16. Rfc1 0–0 17. Rb3. 4. … e×f6
5. Nbd2 Nd7 6. e4 Bg4 7. Be2 Be7 8. Nh4 B×e2 9. Q×e2 0–0 9. … g6 seems preferable.
10. Nf5 Kh8 11. Qg4 Rg8 12. 0–0–0 Bf8 13. Nc4 Better seems Rhe1 (Alekhine).
13. … Qe8 14. Rd3 g6 15. Rg3 In my opinion, White’s maneu-
vers are not correct. As it will be seen they gained nothing rDwDqgri
out of such an excellent position. 15. … Qe6 16. d5 Qe8 (see 0p0nDpDp
diagram) wDw0w0pD
17. Nce3 The sacrifice of the piece is correct, but it does DwDPDNDw
not win [A.N.: After 17. h4 h5 18. Qf3 Nb6 19. Nfe3 Qa4 wDNDPDQD
20. N×b6 a×b6 21. a3 Bg7 Black has an even game]. 17. … Ne5 DwDwDw$w
18. Qh4 g×f5 19. Rh3 h6 20. Q×f6+ Kh7 21. f4 Ng6 [A.N.: If P)PDw)P)
21. … Bg7 22. Q×f5+ Ng6 23. Ng4 Qe7 24. e5 Rge8 25. Nf6+ DwIwDwDR
B×f6 26. e×f6 Qe2 27. b3—if 27. Qg5 Qe3+ winning—27. … Qf2 After 16. … Qe8
28. g3 Re1+ 29. R×e1 Q×e1+ 30. Kb2 Qd1 31. Qg5 Qd4+ 32. Kb1 Qd1+ and it’s a draw.]
22. N×f5 If 22. Q×f5 Qc8! (Alekhine). 22. … Q×e4 23. Q×f7+ Kh8 24. Qf6+ Kh7 Draw.
The game, as are almost all of Niemzowitch’s, is interesting and original. ½–½.
During 1912, in parallel with his chess activities, Capablanca acted as a kind of promoter
of the tourist and economic potential of Cuba. In 1931 he reminisced to Arturo Alfonso
Roselló (Social Semanal, February 15, 1931): “I proposed a big winter sports competition
much more advantageous to the effects of tourism than sail yacht racing. Bringing [Bill]
Tilden and one of the French tennis stars to compete [in Cuba] would bring to Havana and
Cuba the credit of a first-class city. My proposal included golf tournaments and, of course,
a chess competition. I would not see my dream completed.” In the years after 1913, Capa-
blanca referred again to those possibilities without success. In this sense he was a pioneer of
the idea of bringing the practice of these activities (golf and tennis) to the Caribbean and
Central America. His purpose did not pass unnoticed for figures in the highest level in the
political stratum of Cuba. They began to see him not only as a chess prodigy, but as an
ambassador of the young republic in international circles, where other official diplomats
were reduced to narrow protocol activities, without access to prominent national figures of
various countries—doors that Capablanca opened without difficulty.
That is why Capablanca attracted the attention of leading figures of Cuban politics
and society, such as the future president García Menocal, who had graduated in engineering
at Cornell University in New York. The support of García Menocal, whose friendship lasted
until the general’s death on September 7, 1941, was very important in Capablanca’s life. He
also maintained a friendship with another high-profile character, General Fernando Freyre
de Andrade, who, according to the English historian Hugh Thomas, was Menocal’s “strong
man.” At that time the image that Capablanca radiated was that of a winner, the classic “self-
made man” who goes through all the tests of life successfully.
Of course, leaving gracefully the hole in which he had been in 1908, when he found
himself without economic resources for his livelihood, and with serious conflicts with his
family and his former sponsor, he showed the personality and character of a man who did
not give up easily. This period of his life refutes the opinion of some that everything came
easily to him. Capablanca could have perfectly well concluded that he did not owe his success
to anyone except himself, which strengthened his high self-esteem, his proud bearing (arrogant,
said not a few) and his sharp comments. But one of the main defenders of Capablanca’s way
of expressing himself was none other than his controversial successor Robert J. Fischer, when
he said in his interview on October 16, 2006, with the Icelandic radio program Últvarp Saga:
“But the thing that was great about Capablanca was that he really spoke his mind, he said
what he believed was true, he said what he felt. He wanted to change the rules [of chess]
already, back in the twenties, because he said chess was getting played out. He was right. Now
chess is completely dead. It is all just memorization and prearrangement. It’s a terrible game
now. Very uncreative.”
At that crucial stage of his life, in fact since his childhood, mysterious episodes of ill
health also appeared which could explain the excessive care by his parents and their desire
to move him away from chess. The “silent killer,” as high blood pressure was called later, was
then much less known and there was no proper treatment. Then it was found that Capablanca
was part of a family where all males suffered from hypertension, a disease that they inherited
at birth.10 Therefore, the fast and accurate first glance for chess enjoyed by Capablanca seems
to have been the great compensation given by nature to a body which was not given to mental
excesses.
Meanwhile, some of the consequences of the unsuccessful tournament were mitigated
when Felix E. Kahn, treasurer of the competition and a respected figure of the Manhattan
Chess Club, declared that the money raised would be returned to donors, in particular those
who lived outside the United States, suggesting at the time using the remaining funds for a
tournament with the participation of Capablanca, Marshall and Janowski. Capablanca won
that competition half a point above Marshall despite losing a game against Charles Jaffe.
But the legacy of the tournament consists of the games of the Cuban, who began to show a
noticeable turn of style toward the accumulation of small positional advantages. The Dutch
master Prins, in his book with Euwe, wrote that the reproductions of the games of Capablanca
in the American National Tournament, played in New York between January and February
1913, gave the impression that his opponents could easily equalize. But when you delved
into them you discovered that there was always something to be done in order to achieve it.
An example was his game against Harry Kline. In this case, said Prins, the advantage of a
good bishop against a bad knight paved the way. It is curious that Prins, who sometimes
seemed to be on the hunt for defects in the Cuban’s game, does not mention Nimzowitsch’s
comments in his famous work My System, where the Danish Latvian offers assurances that
Kline had a winning game against the Cuban.
Harry Kline–Capablanca [A46]

7th Round, American National Tournament,
1. d4 Nf6 2. Nf3 d6 3. c3 Nbd7 4. Bf4 c6 Another possibility is 4. … Nh5 5. Be3 g6
6. h3 c6 7. c4 Bg7. 8. Nc3 0–0 9. Qd2 b5 10. c×b5 c×b5 11. N×b5 Nhf6 12. Nc3 Nb6 13. Bg5
Nc4 14. Qc1 Bb7. Muranyi–Mateuta, Germany 2009. Black has full compensation for the
pawn. 5. Qc2 Or 5. e3 Nh5 6. Bg5 h6 7. Bh4 g5 8. Bg3 Bg7 9. Bd3 Ndf6 10. Nbd2 Qc7 11. e4
N×g3 12. h×g3 Bd7 13. Nc4 N×e4 14. B×e4 d5 15. Bd3 d×c4 16. B×c4 with an even position.
Tomashevsky–Kruppa, St. Petersburg 2002. 5. … Qc7 6. e4 e5 7. Bg3 Be7 8. Bd3 0–0
9. Nbd2 Re8 10. 0–0 Nh5 11. Nc4 Bf6 12. Ne3 Nf8 13. d×e5 d×e5 14. Bh4 Qe7 15. B×f6
Q×f6 16. Ne1 Nf4 Nimzowitsch considers 16. … Be6 better followed by the doubling of
rooks in the d file. But as a matter of fact, the text move is not bad. 17. g3 Nh3+ 18. Kh1 h5
19. N3g2 g5 Maybe 19. … Ne6 20. f3 Rd8 21. Rd1 Nc5 22. b4 N×d3 23. N×d3 a5 24. Ne3
Be6 25. a4 Qg5 26. Rde1 Bb3 27. Q×b3 R×d3 and Black is much better. 20. f3 Ng6 21. Ne3
h4 22. g4 Nimzowitsch says that 22. Nf5 decides the game in White’s favor and gives the
following variations 22. … h×g3 23. h×g3 B×f5 24. e×f5 Ne7 25. Kg2 Kg7 (“Is the pawn
sacrifice 25. … g4 26. f×g4 Ng5 any better?” asks Nimzowitsch) 26. K×h3 (also playable is
26. Rh1—Nimzowitsch) 26. … Rh8+ 27. Kg2 Qh6 28. Kf2 Qh2+ 29. Ng2 Rh3 30. Ke1
R×g3 31. Ne3 and wins. But Black has a much better possibility with 25. … Nd5! 26. Qd2
(if 26. K×h3 Ne3 27. Qe2 Qh6 mate) 26. … g4 27. f×g4 e4 28. Bc4 Rad8 29. B×d5 R×d5
30. Qe3 Ng5 with a little better position for the second player. 22. … Nhf4 23. Rf2 N×d3
24. N×d3 Be6 25. Rd1 Red8 26. b3 Better is 26. Nf5 Rd7 27. Rfd2 Rad8 28. Nc5 R×d2
29. R×d2 with an even game. 26. … Nf4 27. Ng2 And here better seems 27. N×f4 Q×f4
28. Nf5 R×d1+ 29. Q×d1 with even possibilities. 27. … N×d3 28. R×d3 R×d3 29. Q×d3
Rd8 “Better is 29. … B×g4” (Nimzowitsch). After 30. N×h4 Rd8 (if 30. …. g×h4?! 31. Rg2)
31. Qf1 Black has the advantage with 31. … Bc8. 30. Qe2 h3 31. Ne3 a5! 32. Rf1 a4 Another
good possibility is 32. … Qf4 33. Rd1 R×d1+ 34. N×d1 Qc1 and Black is better. 33. c4 Rd4
Maybe better is 33. … Qf4 34. Kg1 a×b3 35. a×b3 Ra8 36. Rd1 b5 and Black is much better.
34. Nc2 If 34. Nf5 B×f5 35. g×f5 Qd6 36. Rg1 a3 37. R×g5+Kf8 38. Rg1 Rd2 39. Qf1 Qh6
40. Qc1 Ke7 41. Rd1 R×d1+ 42. Q×d1 b6 43. b4 Qg5 and Black
is almost winning. 34. … Rd7 35. Ne3 Qd8 36. Rd1 R×d1+ wDwDwDkD
37. N×d1 Qd4 38. Nf2 (see diagram) DpDwDpDw
38. … b5! Opening lines for the bishop. 39. c×b5 a×b3 wDpDbDwD
40. a×b3 B×b3 41. N×h3 Bd1 42. Qf1 c×b5 43. Kg2 If DwDw0w0w
43. N×g5 Ba4 44. h4 Qd1 45. Kg2 Q×f1+ 46. K×f1 b4 47. f4 pDP1PDPD
e×f4 48. Nf3 Bd1 49. Nd4 B×g4 with a winning endgame. 43. … DPDwDPDp
b4 44. Qb5 If 44. Nf2 Ba4 45. Qc1 f6 46. h4 Qc3 47. Qh1 b3
PDwDQHw)
DwDwDwDK
48. h×g5 f×g5 49. Qh6 b2 50. Q×g5+ Kf7 51. Qf5+ Ke7
52. Qg5+ Kd7 53. Qg7+ Kc8 54. Qf8+ Kc7 55. Qf7+ Kb6 After 38. Nf2
56. Qf6+ Qc6 winning. 44. … b3 45. Qe8+ If 45. Nf2 Bc2
46. Qb8+ Kg7 47. Qc7 Kf6 48. Qc6+ Ke7 49. Qc7+ Ke8 50. Qc8+ Qd8 51. Qc6+ Kf8
52. Qc5+ Qe7 53. Qc3 Qd6 54. Nh1 Qb8 55. Qb2 Bd3 56. Ng3 Bc4 57. Nf5 Qb4 58. Ne3
Be6 59. Kf2 Ke7 60. Nd1 Qc5+ 61. Ke2 Qc2+ 62. Ke1 f6 winning. 45. … Kg7 46. Qe7 b2
47. N×g5 If 47. Qb7 B×f3+ 48. K×f3 Qd3+ winning; if 47. Q×g5+ Kf8 48. Qh6+ Ke7
49. Qg5+ Kd7 50. Qf5+ Kc6 51. Qc8+ Kb5 52. Qb7+ Ka4 53. Qa6+ Kb4 54. Qb7+ Ka3
55. Qa6+ Ba4 56. Qb7 Qb4 winning. 47. … Bb3 48. N×f7 B×f7 49. Qg5+ Kf8 50. Qh6+
Ke7 51. Qg5+Ke8 White resigned. 0–1.
From that tournament, it is important to highlight the game against Janowski, from
whom Capablanca early removed all weapons of attack, no doubt recalling the assault he
suffered at the latter’s hands in San Sebastián 1911 and barely overcame. The Cuban’s com-
ments in Chess Fundamentals were eloquent:
Capablanca–Dawid M. Janowski [C48]

3rd Round, American National Tournament,
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bb5 a6 5. B×c6 d×c6 6. 0–0 Bg4 7. h3 Bh5 8. Qe2
But no 8. g4 N×g4 9. h×g4 B×g4 10. Kg2 Qf6 11. d3 h5 12. Rh1 h4 13. Rh3 g5 14. Qh1 Rg8
15. Ne1 B×h3+ 16. Q×h3 g4 with a winning attack. Leveille–Sagalchik, Montreal 1995. 8. …
Bd6 9. d3 Qe7 Maybe better is 9. … Nd7 10. Rd1 0–0 11. Be3 Qf6 with an even position.
10. Nd1 0–0–0 11. Ne3 Bg6 A better possibility seems 11. … Qe6 12. Nf5 Bf8 13. Ng3 Bg6
14. a3 h6 15. Bd2 Bd6 16. Bc3 Nh5 17. Nh4 N×g3 18. f×g3 Bh7 and draw. Clark–Szenczy,
email 2006. 12. Nh4 Rhg8 13. Nef5 Qe6 14. f4 B×f5 15. N×f5 e×f4 If 15. … Nd7 16. f×e5
B×e5 17. c3 g6 18. Nh6 Rgf8 19. Qg4 Qe7 (19. … Q×g4 20. N×g4 f6 21. Bh6 Rfe8 22. Rf3
c5 23. Raf1 and White is a little better) 20. d4 Bg7 21. e5 and White is better. 16. B×f4
Bc5+ 17. Be3 Bf8 If 17. … B×e3+ 18. Q×e3 Kb8 19. b4 Qe5 20. Rab1 Nd7 21. a4 and White
has a promising attack. 18. Qf2 Rd7 19. Bc5 B×c5 20. Q×c5 Kb8 21. Rf2 Ne8 22. Raf1
f6 22. … Q×a2 23. Ne7 Rh8 24. R×f7. 23. b3 Interesting is 23. Nd4 Qd6 (if 23. … Q×a2
24. b3 followed by 25. c3 winning) 24. Qc4 Rh8 25. Nb3 Qe5 26. a4 Nd6 (if 26. … Q×b2
27. c3 Qa3 28. Nc5 Re7 29. Ra2 winning) 27. Qb4 b6 28. d4 Qe7 29. Re2 Qf7 30. e5 and
White is better. 23. … Nd6 24. Rf4 N×f5 25. Q×f5 Q×f5 26. R×f5 The end game is just
a little better for White. 26. … Re8 27. g4 b6 28. b4 Kb7 29. Kf2 b5 30. a4 Rd4 31. Rb1
Re5 Black lost a very interesting possibility with 31. … a5 32. Ke3 R×b4 33. R×b4 a×b4
34. a×b5 Kb6 35. b×c6 Re6 36. Rh5 R×c6 37. Kd2 h6 with an even endgame. 32. Ke3 Rd7
33. a5 Re6 34. Rbf1 Rde7 (see diagram)
35. g5! Now White obtains a passed e pawn, with an almost wDwDwDwD
winning position. 35. … f×g5 36. R×g5 Rh6 37. Rg3 Rhe6 If Dk0w4w0p
37. … c5 38. b×c5 Kc6 39. Rf5 Rhe6 40. Rfg5 g6 41. Rf3 b4 pDpDr0wD
42. Rd5 Kb5 43. Kd4 K×a5 44. Kc4 winning. 38. h4 g6 39. Rg5 )pDwDRDw
h6 Better seems 39. … Kc8 but White has an advantage after w)wDPDPD
40. h5 g×h5 41. R×h5 Rg7 42. Rf2 h6 43. Rhf5 Rg3+ 44. Kd4 DwDPIwDP
Rd6+ 45. Kc3 Kb7 46. e5 Re6 47. Kd4 Rg4+ 48. R2f4 Rg2
wDPDwDwD
DwDwDRDw
49. c3. 40. Rg4 Rg7 41. d4 Kc8 42. Rf8+ Kb7 43. e5 Now
White is winning. 43. … g5 44. Ke4 Ree7 45. h×g5 h×g5 If After 34. … Rde7
45. … R×g5 46. R×g5 h×g5 47. Kf5 winning. 46. Rf5 Kc8
47. Rg×g5 Rh7 If 47. … R×g5 48. R×g5 Rh7 49. e6 Rh4+ 50. Kf5 Kd8 51. Rg8+ Ke7
52. Rg7+ Kd8 53. Rd7+ Kc8 54. Kg6 winning. 48. Rh5 Kd7 49. R×h7 R×h7 50. Rf8 Rh4+
51. Kd3 Rh3+ 52. Kd2 c5 If 52. … Rh4 53. Kc3 Ke6 54. Ra8 Kd5 55. R×a6 Rh3+ 56. Kb2
winning. 53. b×c5 Ra3 54. d5 Black resigned. If 54. … R×a5 55. Rf7+ Kd8 56. c6 b4 57. Rf8+
Ke7 58. d6+ K×f8 59. d×c7. 1–0.
When the competition in New York was finished, all participants were invited to move
to the Cuban capital, where another tournament would be played. The only one who did
not accept the invitation was Staffer, whose place was taken by Abraham Kupchik, a prom-
ising young player of Russian origin. Almost at the last minute the Havana tournament was
on the verge of losing its main figure, Capablanca himself, who arrived at the docks of Man-
hattan when the crew of the Saratoga were about to pick up lines and lift anchor, so by pure
chance the ship could arrive at Havana on February 12 with all masters on board.
When General Freyre de Andrade, mayor of Havana, opened the contest on February 15,
there began the first international chess tournament in the Americas beyond the borders of
the United States, with such world figures as Marshall, Janowski, and Capablanca. The prizes
were $500, $375, $200, $125 and $50 (about $1,800, $1,350, $700, $440 and $180 in 2015).
New York 1913

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14
1 Capablanca, J. R. • ½ 0 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 11
2 Marshall, Frank J. ½ • ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 ½ 101⁄2
3 Jaffe, Charles 1 ½ • 1 1 1 1 ½ 1 0 1 ½ 1 0 91⁄2
4 Janowski, Dawid 0 ½ 0 • ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 9
5 Chajes, Oscar ½ 0 0 ½ • 1 ½ 1 0 1 1 ½ 1 1 8 42.25
6 Stapfer, John H. 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 • ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 8 38.75
7 Kupchik, A. 0 0 0 0 ½ ½ • ½ 1 1 0 1 1 1 61⁄2
8 Tennenwurzel, E. 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ ½ • 0 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 51⁄2 26.00
9 Whitaker, N. 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 1 • 0 ½ 1 1 1 51⁄2 24.25
10 Rubinstein, S. 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 1 • 0 1 1 ½ 41⁄2 22.50
11 Kline, Harry P 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 ½ ½ 1 • ½ 0 1 41⁄2 20.50
12 Morrison, John S. 0 0 ½ ½ ½ 0 0 0 0 0 ½ • 1 1 4
13 Liebenstein, H 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 1 0 • 1 21⁄2
14 Zapoleon, L.B. 0 ½ 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 • 2
About 1,200 spectators attended the first round of the event on the fifth floor of the Plaza
Hotel, which created chaos in the elevators and among the hotel staff. In the following days
congestion was not abated, because on each day more than 800 people flocked to watch the
tournament. The manager of the Plaza Hotel begged the competition to be moved to another
location, so the end of the tournament was played at the social and cultural institution
Ateneo de La Habana.
Juan Corzo–Capablanca [A53]

1st Round, Havana, 15 February 1913
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 d6 3. Nc3 Nbd7 4. e4 e5 5. f4 Nowadays the main variation is 5. Nf3
Be7 6. Be2 c6 7. 0–0 0–0 8. Re1. 5. … e×d4 6. Q×d4 Nc5 7. Be3 Qe7 A dubious move.
8. Nd5 Although 8. e5 could be played, Black would always have a very good game with 8. …
Ng4 (Capablanca). (A.N.: however, White can play 9. Nd5; for example 9. … Qd7 10. e×d6
Ne6 11. Qe4 Q×d6 12. f5 N×e3 13. Q×e3 c6 14. f×e6 c×d5 15. e×f7+K×f7 16. 0–0–0 and
White is better.) 8. … N×d5 9. e×d5 Bf5 10. Nf3 g6! 11. Kf2 The only move. If 11. 0–0–0
Bg7 with Black advantage (Capablanca). Of course, if 11. Q×h8? Q×e3+ 12. Be2 Nd3+
13. Kd1 Nf2+ 14. Ke1 Bd3 winning. 11. … Rg8 12. Re1 Bg7 13. Qd1 Ne4+ 14. Kg1 Kf8
14. … 0–0–0 is too risky and offers White attack chances that could give him a draw (Capa-
blanca). For example: 15. Bd3 (15. B×a7 is not so good because after 15. … Rde8 16. Bd4
B×d4+ 17. Q×d4 g5 18. Qa7 Qf6 19. f×g5 N×g5 20. R×e8+ R×e8 21. N×g5 Q×g5 Black
has at least an even game) 15. … Rde8 16. Qc2 and White is a little better. 15. Bd4 g5
16. B×g7+ If 16. N×g5 B×d4+ 17. Q×d4 N×g5 18. R×e7 Nh3 mate. If 16. f×g5 N×g5
17. N×g5 (17. B×g7+ R×g7 18. N×g5 Q×g5 with a positional advantage) 17. … B×d4+
18. Q×d4 Q×e1 winning; if 16. Bd3 g×f4 with an even game. 16. … R×g7 17. Nd4 If 17. Bd3
g×f4 wins (Capablanca). But White can play 18. h4 Re8 19. Ng5 R×g5 20. h×g5 Q×g5
21. Rh5 and now Black doesn’t have anything better than 21. … Qg3 22. R×f5 Qf2+ with a
draw. 17. … Bd7 18. f5 If 18. Bd3 f5 19. B×e4 f×e4 20. f5 (20. Qc2 Qf6 21. R×e4) 20. … Qe5
21. Ne6+ B×e6 22. f×e6 c6 and Black wins (Capablanca). 18. … Qe5 19. Qd3 Re8 Played
with all the intention of sacrificing the exchange later. With 19. … Nc5 Black obtains a little
advantage; for example, 20. R×e5 N×d3 21. Re3 Ne5 and the White pawn on c4 is weak
(Capablanca). 20. Ne6+ f×e6 21. f×e6 (see diagram)
21. … R×e6 22. d×e6 Bc6 23. Qf3+ Interesting is 23. b4
b6 24. Qf3+ Qf4 25. b5 Bb7 26. Be2 Nf6 27. Qf2 (of course not wDwDriwD
27. Q×b7? Qd4+ 28. Kf1 Ne4 winning) 27. … Ke7 28. h3 and 0p0bDw4p
White is a little better. 23. … Qf4 24. Qe3 If 24. Q×f4+ g×f4 wDw0PDwD
25. h4 f3 26. Rd1 f2+ 27. Kh2 Ng3 28. Rd2 N×h1 29. K×h1 DwDP1w0w
R×g2! wins (Capablanca); but better seems 24. e7+ R×e7 (24. … wDPDnDwD
Ke8 25. Qe3 a5 26. Bd3) 25. Q×f4+ g×f4 26. Bd3 a5 27. B×e4 DwDQDwDw
Kg7 28. Kf2 B×e4 29. Rhf1 and White is better. 24. … Ke7
P)wDwDP)
DwDw$BIR
25. b4 b6 26. b5 Bb7 27. g3 Better is 27. Bd3 Nc5 28. h3. 27. …
Nd2! 28. Qc3 A mistake, very excusable after such an arduous After 21. f×e6
task as White has had. The best was 28. Bg2 Q×e3+ 29. R×e3
N×c4 30. Rc3 B×g2 31. K×g2 d5 and Black has very good chances to win (Capablanca).
But things are not so clear after 32. Re1 g4 33. Rd3 Rg5 34. h3 g×h3+ 35. K×h3 h6
36. g4 Nd6 37. Rc3 Nc4 38. Kh4. 28. … Nf3+ 29. Kf2 Qf8 The withdrawal White had not
seen (Capablanca). 30. c5 Ne5+ 31. Kg1 Nf3+ Somewhat inconvenient was 31. … Qf3
32. Q×f3 N×f3+ 33. Kf2 N×e1 34. c6! and Black should win, but the victory would be
much harder (Capablanca). 32. Kf2 b×c5 33. Qa5 Ne5+ 34. Kg1 Qf3 35. Q×c7+ Kf6
36. Q×d6 Q×h1+ 37. Kf2 Q×h2+ White resigned. If 38. Ke3 Q×g3+ 39. Kd2 Nf3+ win-
ning. 0–1.
For this game against Corzo Capablanca was awarded the first Brilliancy Prize by the
newspaper La Discusión. However, he lost to Janowski in the sixth round and made a serious
mistake in a won game in the tenth round against Marshall.

10th Round, Havana, 28 February 1913
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. N×e5 d6 4. Nf3 N×e4 5. d4 d5 6. Bd3 Bg4 Nowadays the main
variation is 6. … Be7 7. 0–0 Nc6 8. c4 Nb4 9. Be2 0–0 10. Nc3 Bf5 11. a3 N×c3 12. b×c3
Nc6 13. c×d5 Q×d5. 7. 0–0 Nc6 8. c3 Be7 9. Nbd2 N×d2 10. B×d2 0–0 11. h3 Or 11. Re1
Bd6 12. h3 Bh5 13. g3 h6. Vallejo Pons–Gelfand, Linares 2010. And now White can play
14. Kg2 Na5 15. Qa4 B×f3+ 16. K×f3 c6 17. Kg2 Qc7 18. Re2 Rae8 19. Rae1 with advantage.
11. … Bh5 12. Re1 Qd7 Better is 12. … Qd6 although after 13. Qe2 Rae8 14. Bf5 Bg6 15. Qd3
Bf6 16. B×g6 h×g6 17. R×e8 R×e8 18. Qb5 White is better. 13. Bb5 Bd6 Better is 13. …
Qd6 but after 14. g3 Bf6 15. Kg2 Nd8 16. Qc2 Bg6 17. Bd3 Ne6 18. h4 White is better.
14. Ne5 B×e5 If 14. … B×d1 15. N×d7 Rfd8 16. Ra×d1 R×d7 17. c4 Bf8 18. c5 g6 19. Bf4
Bg7 20. Re3 and White should win (Capablanca). 15. Q×h5 Bf6 16. Bf4 Rae8 17. Re3 R×e3
18. f×e3 a6 19. Ba4 b5 20. Bc2 g6 21. Qf3 Bg7 22. Bb3 Ne7 23. e4 d×e4 24. Q×e4 c6
25. Re1 Nd5 26. B×d5 c×d5 27. Qe7 Qc8 28. Bd6 h6 28. … Rd8 have some points; if then
29. Rf1 Rd7; or if then 29. Bc5 Bf8 (Marshall). But interesting is 29. Bc7 Rf8 30. Bg3 Rd8
31. Bh4 Rf8 32. Qd6 with a big advantage to White. 29. Rf1 f6 30. Re1 Rd8 31. Bc5 Kh7
32. Qf7 32. Re6! is also very strong. For example: 32. … Kg8 33. Bb6 Rf8 34. Qd6 winning
the d pawn. 32. … Qf5 (see diagram)
33. Be7? A big mistake. With 33. Re7 White wins easily in
wDw4wDwD this way: 33. … Rg8 34. Ra7 Qf4 35. Qc7 and Black should
DwDwDQgk exchange queens because of the threat 36. Bf8 (Capablanca).
pDwDw0p0 33. … Qd7 34. Kf1 Rf8 35. Qe6 Q×e6 36. R×e6 Re8 37. Re2
DpGpDqDw Kg8 38. b3 Kf7 39. Bc5 R×e2 40. K×e2 f5 41. Kd3 Ke6 42. c4
wDw)wDwD b×c4+ 43. b×c4 g5 44. g4 f4 45. Bb4 Bf6 46. Bf8 46. c5 is
Dw)wDwDP totally draw. 46. … d×c4+ 47. K×c4 f3 48. d5+? This move
P)wDwDPD loses. 48. Kd3 was the correct one and the game should have been
DwDw$wIw drawn (Capablanca). For example: 48. … B×d4 49. B×h6 Kf6
After 32. … Qf5 50. Bf8 Bb6 and draw. 48. … Ke5 49. Kd3 Kf4 50. Bd6+ Be5
51. Bc5 If 51. B×e5+ K×e5 52. Ke3 K×d5 53. K×f3 Kd4 winning.
51. … Kg3 52. Ke4 Bf4 53. d6 f2 White resigned. If 54. d7 f1=Q 55. d8=Q Qf3+ 56. Kf5
(if 56. Kd4 Qd1+ winning). 56. … Bc7+ winning. 0–1.
The story told by Reuben Fine that Marshall was frightened by a possible revolt by
fans in the Cuban capital if he won against the local idol seems to have no basis.11 Marshall
himself, in My Fifty Years of Chess (New York, 1943, page 20), said:
The setting and the game itself were quite extraordinary. There was a tremendous crowd,
which filled the street outside. Capa had a win, which would have given him first prize, but the
tension and excitement were too much for him. He played some weak moves and I eventually
won the game. When the result was announced, the crowd let out a terrific roar. At first I
thought they were after my blood for defeating their idol and asked an escort to my hotel. It
turned it out, however, that the good Cubans were just showing their sportsmanship and were
cheering for me.
In fact the most serious incident of the tournament occurred in the eighth round, when
Jaffe made a huge mistake, losing his queen in his game against Marshall. According to Capa-
blanca, this move was made intentionally to help Marshall, and after that he tried to prevent
Jaffe from being invited to tournaments. The truth is that the same Capablanca lost a good
opportunity in his last-round game against Kupchik, in which he built a winning strategic
scheme, but just when he was about to reap the benefits, two consecutive errors led him to
a lost position in move 39. But his rival returned favors when he overlooked a forceful move
that would have won immediately.
Capablanca blamed his mistakes on the “great noise and heat in the halls of the Ateneo
and the intemperance of certain concurrents which made it almost impossible to play in the
way it should be.”12 And in his following comment to the same game, Capablanca wrote:
“Here it should be added that during some twenty moves the young Russian always played
the best in an extremely difficult position and without having time to think, demonstrating
the colossal fortune that Marshall has had in the tournament, because what Kupchik did,
and he is not any great player, would have hardly been done by the best chess player in the
world.”13
What really happened during the last round of the Havana tournament was described
in a very emotional way by Hartwig Cassel in American Chess Bulletin of April 1913:
SCENES OF UNPRECEDENTED E XCITEMENT

When the Players assembled in the big hall at the Ateneo, as the place is called in Havana, in
order to play the final round, Marshall was sure of at least tying for first and second place with
Capablanca, inasmuch as he had already ten points to his credit, while Capablanca by winning
his last game could also reach that total. It will thus be seen that Marshall needed only to draw
his last game with Janowski to secure the first prize, while Capablanca had to beat Kupchik to
get a slice of the first prize. Similar were the conditions as regards the fourth and fifth prizes,
while Janowski, win or draw or lose in the last round, was assured of the third prize. On the
result of Jaffe–Blanco, Chajes–Corzo, and Capablanca–Kupchik games depended the fate of the
fourth and fifth prizes, too.
This explanation is necessary to fully understand the situation when the players were called
upon to begin the final round of the contest. At the extreme left of the big hall sat Janowski and
Marshall, ready to begin the fight, to their right Chajes and Corzo were placed, further to the
right were Jaffe and Blanco, and, at the extreme right, Capablanca and Kupchik. From the start
the hall began to be crowded and in the front row, reserved for the members of the local club,
were seated quite a number of women, among whom may be named Mrs. Marshall, four sisters
of Capablanca, Mrs. Corzo and many more. Each of these ladies had been the recipient of beau-
tiful bunches of flowers and, within an hour after beginning of play, the hall was overcrowded to
suffocation, it being estimated that fully 1,200 people had gained admittance.
Previous to the beginning of play, Capablanca had addressed Kupchik, telling him that he
should play very slowly indeed, for in case Janowski should get a drawing or losing position
against Marshall, he would be unable to share in first and second prizes with Marshall, even if he
should beat Kupchik, and therefore he would not make any exertions at all to bring about the
downfall of this young player, who had been a great favorite among all Cuban chess players. As
in former sessions of the tournament, a perfect quietness prevailed during the first hour. The
exhibition boards on which the move-by-move progress of the four games was shown, did not
present exciting positions and there was really no cause for any stir among the audience. Little by
little, however, the positions became more complicated and now the first signs of a brewing
storm were evident. In spite of repeated warnings to keep quiet, the spectators began, first in a
low murmur, to talk about the games; later on they talked louder and louder, and just when
things looked most critical in all the boards, the real hurricane began to rage and it was not pos-
sible any more to look with composure on the boards. Finally, it became evident that Marshall
had lost ground and, barring accidents, was doomed to defeat. Now everybody was looking at
the Capablanca–Kupchik bout. A close examination of the position at once made it clear to
everybody that the Cuban champion had missed his opportunity. Kupchik did play very slowly,
later became rather aggressive and at one time it was even thought that he would beat Capa-
blanca. In this, however, the spectators were mistaken, as the Cuban wonder had kept a sure
draw up his sleeve.
Now the most dramatic scene came. Marshall had a hopeless case before him. He did not,
however, care to resign before the result of the Kupchik–Capablanca game was registered. In
fact, he did not care to resign at all, but was willing to lose the game on the time limit rule,
because Janowski did not resign his game to Marshall in the first round, but had absented him-
self from the board and let Marshall know through President Paredes that he had given up the
fight. Marshall, who was outside on the balcony awaiting the result of the other game, suddenly
heard cries in the audience: “Marshall, come and play,” while an excited crowd also shouted:
“Jaffe, get away from Kupchik. You have nothing to do at that board, attend your own game.” In
their excitement the people thought that Jaffe was prompting Kupchik in the conduct of his
game. At last, Capablanca could see nothing but a draw, which was duly recorded, and now Mar-
shall threw over his king and all the fighting was over. But not so for the crowd. A tremendous
cheering and “Viva Janowski” were heard, and finally, the latter got on a chair addressing the
crowd as follows: “I did all in my power to help Capablanca. I promised to beat Marshall today
and I succeeded. I could do no more.”
Next, the place reserved for the players was taken by storm by the audience. Everybody was
yelling, talking and shouting simultaneously and among the big din and the waves of excitement
your special correspondent was sitting at his desk, quietly writing down his last dispatch from
Havana: “Marshall first; Capablanca, second; Janowski, third; Chajes and Kupchik fourth and
fifth. Scene of wild excitement.”
At the farewell banquet, General Freyre de Andrade recalled the biblical phrase
that no one was a prophet in his own land,14 but promised that Capablanca would have
future opportunities to try to prove the saying false, since a new tournament would be con-
vened in 1914. This never happened and Capablanca never won a chess tourney in Cuba,
except his matches against Corzo, Kostić and Lasker. Another contribution to chess history
brought about by the event was the book Torneo Internacional de Ajedrez, La Habana 1913,
the only book about a chess tournament written by Capablanca, which was published in
June 1913, by the press Avisador Comercial at 30 Amargura Street, corner of Cuba Street,
in Havana, near where, 75 years earlier, Johann Nepomuk Maelzel had presented his autom-
aton.
If on March 6, 1913, Capablanca had the misfortune of being wrong in his game against
Kupchik, exactly three months later, on June 6, life had reserved a pleasant surprise for him.
That day, the office of the mayor of Havana left a letter addressed to Cosme de la Torriente,
head of Cuban diplomacy and family of Celestina Torriente, wife of the legendary Spaniard
master Celso Golmayo:
Havana 1913
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
1 Marshall, Frank James • 1-½ 0-1 ½-1 ½-1 1-½ 1-1 ½-1 101⁄2
2 Capablanca, José Raúl 0-½ • 1-0 1-½ 1-½ 1-½ 1-1 1-1 10
3 Janowski, Dawid M. 1-0 0-1 • 0-1 1-½ ½-½ 1-1 ½-1 9
4 Chajes, Oscar ½-0 0-½ 1-0 • 1-0 1-0 ½-0 1-1 61⁄2 39.75
5 Kupchik, Abraham ½-0 0-½ 0-½ 0-1 • 1-0 0-1 1-1 61⁄2 37.75
6 Jaffe, Charles 0-½ 0-½ ½-½ 0-1 0-1 • 0-1 0-½ 51⁄2
7 Blanco, Rafael 0-0 0-0 0-0 ½-1 1-0 1-0 • 1-½ 5
8 Corzo, Juan ½-0 0-0 ½-0 0-0 0-0 1-½ 0-½ • 3
Municipal City Hall of Havana

Havana, June 6, 1913.
Mr. Cosme de la Torriente
Secretary of State
My dear friend:
Attached I refer you to the note about José Raúl Capablanca, of whom I have spoken to you
for a post in the diplomatic career in one of the European centers, enabling him to make merito-
rious achievements in his life, while at the same time being a possible contender in chess tourna-
ments, in which up to now he has obtained solid triumphs, as you know.
He brought me the note15 telling me that he had seen it and I will send it concerning him, a
young man of quality, smart and with some knowledge as you can see by the note, champion of the
tournaments in which so far he has taken part and who aspires to the Universal Championship.
As always yours truly
(Unintelligible signature) [Freyre de Andrade]16
When Capablanca departed for New York on June 24 on board the steamer Mexico,
Freyre de Andrade and Cosme de la Torriente had already informed him that he could take
his appointment for granted, awaiting the approval of the new president of the Republic,
General García Menocal. And although Capablanca had not yet been sworn in, he had the
task of promoting in the United States the next international chess tournament that would
be held in Havana in January 1914, as part of the winter festivals of that year. President García
Menocal signed on June 27 the appointment of Capablanca, but the official communication
from the Department of State of Cuba to the consul in New York with instructions to for-
malize the process was not sent until July 14:
Havana, 14 July,
Secretary of State, Department of Personnel, Assets and Accounts
Mr. Consul General [New York]:
I have the honor to recommend that you take the appropriate oath from Mr. José Raúl Capa-
blanca, appointed 1st Class Chancellor of the Cuban Consulate in St. Petersburg, Russia, and
send it to this Department for the purposes of his salary. I also express to you that if Mr. Capa-
blanca wants to offer his services in that General Consulate until he has received instructions
related to his transfer to the place of his destination, you should use his services. Sincerely,
signed: G[uillermo]. Patterson, Sub secretary.17
The oath of Capablanca as a member of the Foreign Service of Cuba occurred on July
21, and was sent the next day to Havana.
When the Cuban arrived in New York, everything was ready to begin the Rice Chess
Club Summer Tournament, but to Capablanca’s surprise, the competition would not be
played at the rate of five games a week as he thought, but just two games every seven days.
Capablanca requested that his games be moved forward because he had to finish the tour-
nament in four weeks. It is for this reason that in the inaugural meeting of the tournament
held at the Rice Chess Club, as the New York Times mentions, on June 30, 1913: “The man-
aging directors asked for volunteers among the other competitors to be ready to accommo-
date Capablanca … and also play more than two games per week after the arrival of Důras,”
who was on his way aboard the cruise liner Imperator.
It has been verified that at least George Beyhoff and Jacob Bernstein agreed to play
their games against the Cuban in advance. Notes on the tournament that appeared in the
same New York Times article explain why the annotation of the Capablanca–John Stapfer
encounter never appeared, because he, as Chajes later, withdrew from the competition.
Capablanca began with a victory on the opening day of July 2 against Jacques Grommer,
a Frenchman who had become a naturalized American citizen. It was a game of slow maneu-
vers that culminated with an elegant simplifying procedure.
Capablanca–Jacques Grommer [C00]

1st Round, Rice Chess Club Tournament, New York, 2 July 1913
1. e4 e6 2. d3 d5 3. Nd2 Nf6 4. Ngf3 Be7 5. c3 c5 6. Qc2 Nc6 7. Be2 e5 8. 0–0 0–0
9. Re1 d×e4 Better is 9. … d4 10. Nc4 Qc7 11. c×d4 N×d4 12. N×d4 c×d4 13. Bd2 Be6 (if
13. … b5 14. Ne3 Q×c2 15. N×c2 with an even game) 14. Rec1 Rac8 and Black is a little
better. 10. d×e4 Bg4 A little better is 10. … Qc7 11. Nc4 h6 12. Nh4 Rd8 with an even game.
11. Nc4 Qc7 12. Ne3 Rad8 13. h3 Bh5 14. Nf5 Now White is better. 14. … Bg6 15. N3h4
Nd7 16. N×g6 f×g6 Also after 16. … h×g6 17. Ne3 Nb6 18. Nc4 N×c4 19. B×c4 Bf6 20. Be3
White is much better. 17. Ne3 Nf6 18. Nd5 N×d5 19. e×d5 Nb8 20. Bg4 Nd7 21. B×d7
An unnecessary exchange. Better is 21. Be6+ Kh8 22. c4 with a big advantage for White.
21. … R×d7 22. c4 Bd6 23. Be3 Rdf7 24. Re2 Qc8 25. b4 Better seems 25. Rae1 Qf5 26. f3
Rd7 27. Bc1 with the better bishop and a weak Black e pawn. 25. … b6 26. b×c5 b×c5 Why
not 26. … B×c5. For example 27. B×c5 Q×c5 28. Rd1 Rf4 with counterplay. 27. Rb1 Rf5
28. Rb5 g5 29. Qa4 A mistake. Stronger was 29. Qe4 h6 30. Reb2 R5f7 31. f3. 29. … g4
30. h×g4 R5f7 31. Qc2 If 31. g5 Qg4 32. Rbb2 e4 with counterplay. 31. … Q×g4 32. B×c5
B×c5 33. R×c5 Rf4 Better is 33. … Qd4 34. Rb5 Rc8 35. Rb4 a5 36. Ra4 Qa1+ 37. Kh2
Rf6 38. Ra3 Qd4 although White is still a little better after 39. Rh3 Rg6 40. Re4 Q×d5
41. Rh5 Rc5 42. f4. 34. d6! Now White is winning. 34. … e4 35. Re5 e3 36. R5xe3 R×c4
37. Qb3 Kh8 38. Qb2 Rb4 Also after 38. … Qh5 39. g3 Rc6 40. Re7 Qg5 41. d7 White is
winning (see diagram)
39. Re8 Rbf4 39. … Rg8 40. d7 Q×d7 41. R×g8+ K×g8
wDwDw4wi 42. Q×b4 winning. 40. Qb8 Kg8 41. Qb3+ Kh8 42. R×f8+
0wDwDw0p R×f8 43. Qf7! Qc8 44. Q×f8+! Black resigned. If 44. … Q×f8
wDw)wDwD 45. d7 winning. 1–0.
DwDwDwDw
w4wDwDqD Against the Austrian Oscar Chajes, also a naturalized Amer-
DwDw$wDw ican, the Cuban materialized a better opening with a direct attack
P!wDR)PD on the enemy king.
DwDwDwIw
After 38. … Rb4
Capablanca–Oscar Chajes [C84]

5th Round, Rice Chess Club Tournament,
New York, 11 July 1913
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. 0–0 b5 6. Bb3 Be7 7. d4 d6 8. c3 Bg4
9. Be3 Interesting is 9. h3 B×f3 10. Q×f3 e×d4 11. Qg3 0–0 12. Bh6 Ne8 13. Bd5 Qd7
14. Qg4 Q×g4 15. h×g4 g×h6 16. B×c6 d×c3 17. N×c3 Rb8 18. Nd5 Bd8 19. f3 with White
advantage. Gligorić–Rosetto, Portorož 1958. 9. … 0–0 10. Nbd2 Na5 11. Bc2 Re8 12. b4
Interesting is 12. h3 B×f3 13. Q×f3 c5 14. Rad1 Qc7 15. Bb1 Nc6 16. d5 Na5 17. b3 Nb7
18. g4 a5 19. g5 Nd7 20. h4 Rf8 21. Qg4 with White advantage. Agdestein–Jensen, Tromsö
2001. 12. … e×d4 13. c×d4 Nc6 14. a3 Bf8 15. Rc1 Ne7 16. e5! d×e5 17. d×e5 B×f3 If 17. …
Nfd5 18. B×h7+ K×h7 19. Ng5+ winning. 18. Q×f3 Nd7 If 18. … Nfd5 19. Ne4 N×e3
20. f×e3 Ng6 (if 20. … Qd5 21. Bb1 c6 22. Rc5 Qb3 23. Ng5
Ng6 24. Bc2 Qa2 25. R×c6 with a winning position) 21. Q×f7+ rDw1rgkD
Kh8 22. Nf6 g×f6 23. e×f6 Re5 24. Bb3 Bh6 25. R×c7 Qg8 Dw0wDp0w
26. Q×g8+ R×g8 27. B×g8 K×g8 28. f7+ Kh8 29. Rf6 B×e3+ pDwDwDn0
30. Kf1 Nf8 31. R×a6 and White is winning. 19. Qh3 Ng6 20. f4 DpDw)wHw
Nb6 21. Nf3 Nc4 22. Ng5 h6 (see diagram) w)nDw)wD
23. N×f7! K×f7 24. Qf5+ Kg8 25. Q×g6 N×e3 26. Qh7+ )wDwGwDQ
Kf7 27. Bb3+ Nc4 If 27. … Ke7 28. Rfd1! N×d1 29. R×d1 c5 wDBDwDP)
30. Qg8 c4 31. f5! winning. 28. Rfd1 Qb8 29. R×c4! b×c4 Dw$wDRIw
30. B×c4+ Ke7 31. Qf5 Qb6+ 32. Kf1 Black resigned. 1–0. After 22. … h6
In the next round he defeated by forfeit the Swiss John Homer Stapfer, and then Frank
Percival Beynon, a Canadian who died in action in 1918 during the First World War. The
Russian-American Edward Tennenwurzel sacrificed a pawn in the opening and he saw it no
more. Then followed the revenge in only 15 moves against Roy Turnbull Black, who had
beaten him in 1911. The next rival was Harold Meyer Phillips, who would be the organizer
and director of the New York Tournament of 1924 and later president of the Chess Federation
of the United States. Phillips, who played in chess tournaments for more than 70 years,
launched an attack of pawns against Capablanca’s castled position while the Cuban was
engaged in collecting pawns in the opposite queen’s flank. Against the Russian American
Kupchik he created a work of delicate texture in which simplification enhanced the bad
kingside pawn structure of his rival. That was all he needed. In the following game against
Albert Marder the Cuban produced a prodigy of Zugzwang, that wonderful contradiction
of chess in which one of the players loses because he has the obligation to move.
Albert Marder–Capablanca [C90]

12th Round, Rice Chess Club Tournament,
New York, 26 July 1913
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. 0–0 Be7 6. Re1 b5 7. Bb3 d6 8. c3 Na5
9. Bc2 c5 10. d3 Not so enterprising as 10. d4; or 10. h3 0–0 11. d4. 10. … Nc6 11. Nbd2
0–0 12. Nf1 Or 12. a4 Be6 13. Nf1 b4 14. Bg5 Rb8 15. d4 c×d4 16. c×d4 Bg4 17. Be3 (Em.
Lasker recommends 17. d×e5 B×f3 18. g×f3 d×e5 19. f4 but Black is a little better after 19. …
Qc7 20. Rc1 Rfd8 21. Nd2 h6 22. B×f6 B×f6 23. Bb3 Qd7 24. Bd5 Rbc8) 17. … e×d4
18. B×d4 Nd7 19. Ne3 B×f3 20. g×f3 b3 21. Bb1 N×d4 22. Q×d4 Bf6 23. Qd2 Ne5 24. Qe2
Ng6 25. Nd5 Be5. Teichmann–Capablanca, Berlin 1913. Black is much better and won in
36 moves. 12. … Be6 Another possibility is 12. … Re8 13. Ne3 (nowadays the main line is
13. h3 h6 14. Ng3 Bf8 15. d4 c×d4 16. c×d4 e×d4 17. N×d4 N×d4 18. Q×d4 Be6 19. Be3
Rc8 20. Qd2 Nd7 with chances for both sides) 13. … Bf8 14. h3 g6 15. Bb3 Be6 16. B×e6
f×e6 17. Ng4 N×g4 18. h×g4 d5 19. Bg5 Qd6 20. Bf6 Bg7 21. B×g7K×g7 22. g5 Rad8 23. Qe2
d4. Sergeant–Capablanca, Margate 1939. The position is even and was drawn after 30 moves.
13. Bg5 13. Qe2 Nh5 14. Ng3 N×g3 15. f×g3 f5 16. e×f5 B×f5 17. Bb3+Kh8 18. Bd5 Rc8
19. a4 Bf6 20. a×b5 a×b5 21. Bd2 Ne7 22. Be4 c4 23. Ng5 d5 24. B×f5 N×f5 25. Qh5 B×g5
26. B×g5 Qb6+ 27. Kh1 Rce8 28. g4 Nd6 29. Be3 d4 30. Bg1 c×d3 31. R×e5 R×e5 32. Q×e5
Nc4. Znosko-Borovsky–Capablanca, St. Petersburg 1913. And now, instead of 33. Rf1 better
is 33. Qf5! Qd8 34. Q×d3 and White has the advantage. 13. … Nh5 A modern possibility
is 13. … Nd7 14. B×e7 Q×e7 15. Ne3 Qf6 16. a4 Rfb8 17. Bb3 Nb6 18. B×e6 f×e6 19. a×b5
a×b5 20. Qb3 b4 21. Nc4 N×c4 22. R×a8 R×a8 23. Q×c4 with an even game. Durarbeyli–
Beliavsky, Plovdiv 2012. 14. B×e7 Q×e7 15. d4 c×d4 16. c×d4 Bg4 17. Ne3 B×f3 18. Q×f3
Nf4 19. Nf5 Qf6 20. Red1 Rfd8 21. Bb3 Rac8 22. Kh1 Ne6
23. d×e5 d×e5 24. B×e6?! Better is 24. R×d8+ R×d8 25. Rc1 wDwDwDwD
Ne7 26. B×e6 Q×e6 27. N×e7+ Q×e7 28. g3 Qd6 29. Kg2. DwDwDwDw
24. … f×e6 25. Ne3 Q×f3 26. g×f3 R×d1+ Another possibility wDwDpDwD
was 26. … Nd4 27. Kg2 h5 28. Rac1 R×c1 29. R×c1 Rf8 30. Rc3 0wDw0wip
N×f3 31. Ra3 Nd2 32. R×a6 N×e4 with advantage. 27. R×d1 PDwDPDwD
Nd4 28. Kg2 h5 29. Rd3 b4 30. h4 Kf7 31. Rd2 Kf6 32. Kg3 DpDwDPDw
g5! 33. h×g5+ K×g5 34. Ng2 Rc1 35. Rd3 If 35. f4+ e×f4+ w)w$n4NI
36. N×f4 Rg1+ 37. Kh3 K×f4 38. R×d4 a5 39. b3 Re1 winning. DwDwDwDw
35. … Ne2+ 36. Kh2 Rf1 37. Rd2 R×f2 38. a3 b3 39. a4 a5! After 39. … a5!
(see diagram)
Capablanca finished his Zugzwang scheme—and White resigned. 0–1.
On his last day, Capablanca had secured first place even were he to lose, and he had no
absolute need to battle it out against the Czech Oldřich Důras, the only player in the tour-
nament, besides the Cuban, considered to be among the first five ranking players in the world
at the time. Důras had just recently finished first in the 1912 German championship, tied
with Rubinstein, but in Hamburg 1910, was in second place, half a point behind Schlechter,
above Nimzowitsch, Spielmann, Marshall, Teichmann, Alekhine, Tarrasch, Tartakower and
others. But for Capablanca to win all the games of the tournament had a special meaning.
A few months earlier in the so-called National Tournament of the United States he had won
his first 10 games before falling to Jaffe. In addition, his old friend and supporter Manuel
Márquez Sterling, who was then the Cuban ambassador to the United States, had expressly
traveled from Washington to observe the last game of Capablanca.
The game was held on July 27 with a completely full house at the Rice Chess Club, and
those who arrived late were not allowed to enter. There was an ending of rook and four
pawns for Capablanca (Black), against rook and three pawns for Důras, all the pawns in the
same flank. This game has found a place in the most select anthologies of endings. It also
made many see that the Cuban was not only a player of accurate tactical blows but, in addi-
tion, a first-class endgame player, something that some had forgotten, but that had been
already evident from his games against Corzo. The triumph with a perfect score presaged
1913 New York Rice Chess Club Tournament

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
1 Capablanca, J.R. • 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 11
2 Důras, O. 0 • 1 1 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 8½
3 Black, R.T. 0 0 • 1 ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 8
4 Chajes, O. 0 0 0 • 1 1 1 0 1 1 1 1 7 27.50
5 Kupchik, A. 0 0 ½ 0 • 1 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 7 27.50
6 Marder, A. 0 ½ ½ 0 0 • 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 6½
7 Tennenwurzel, E. 0 0 0 0 0 0 • 1 1 1 1 ½ 4½
8 Adair, G.F. 0 ½ 0 1 0 0 0 • ½ ½ ½ 1 4 16.75
9 Bernstein, J. 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 ½ • 1 1 1 4 10.75
10 Phillips, H.M. 0 ½ 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ 0 • ½ 0 2 10.50
11 Beynon, F. 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 ½ • 1 2 4.50
12 Grommer, J. 0 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 1 0 • 1½
something extraordinary. The only one who until then had achieved a similar feat in a first-
class tournament had been Emanuel Lasker, 20 years earlier, in 1893, and also in New York.
Lasker won the world championship a year later, so Capablanca could rightly suppose that
he was on the path to the summit. To win in New York with a perfect score did not lose its
prophetic character with the passage of time. Half a century later, in the chess championship
of the United States that began in 1963 and was completed in 1964, Robert J. Fischer won
all his games, and eight years later he won the world crown.18
After the Summer Tournament of the Rice Chess Club, Capablanca set sail eastward
for the second time, aiming to play against the best players on the European continent, con-
sidered the best in the world.
The young Capablanca was aiming high, not just to be a prince but a king, waiting for
his investiture.
7. In Morphy’s Footsteps
Capablanca wanted to cross the Atlantic again and “throw the gauntlet to all comers.”
His ambition was to imitate Morphy’s epic journey. In 1858 he traveled to Europe and
defeated all the masters on the continent who had the courage to face him. Morphy arrived
in Liverpool, England, June 20, 1858, barely two days before his twenty-first birthday. Capa-
blanca was a little older, 24, when he disembarked in Southampton, October 10, 1913. Before
his voyage, Morphy won the only tournament he participated in, the First American Chess
Congress, New York, 1857, in the finals of which he defeated Louis Paulsen, a German residing
for a while in the United States, with the easy score of 6 to 2. The triumphs of the Cuban
were more diverse, especially his victory in San Sebastián. As with Morphy, he also defeated
the strongest player on American soil, Frank J. Marshall.
Capablanca accepted the invitation for the tournament in the Russian capital even
before embarking on the Saratoga on August 23 to Cuba, where another chess competition
was being organized for 1914. In Havana, Manuel Márquez Sterling asked his help to give
new life to the chess club of the city that, despite the presence of such a prestigious figure
as himself, was financially in ruins. The proceeding of the institution on August 9 and 23
mentioned that the situation was critical, to the extent that at the time the club had not paid
their monthly rent to the Hotel Plaza for five months. To make the situation even worse,
the treasurer of the club, Mr. Andrés Pous, allegedly took the money from the coffers and
disappeared. The directors had no choice but to inform the police about the embezzlement,
and that led to his detention. In order to avoid bankruptcy a Triangular Series was organized,
that Capablanca played in simultaneous displays with clocks against Juan Corzo, Rafael
Blanco and René Portela, to which the public had to pay admittance. Also there was an issue
of 250 bonds at two dollars (not in Cuban pesos) each. Thanks to these measures the club
had a break of two years, until 1915, when the situation became desperate again.
The series was played to triple rounds at a rate of 20 moves per hour. The rounds were
held on 7, 8 and 9 September, and Capablanca won all nine games. In the first round of the
series, Capablanca took revenge for the defeat he suffered in 1909 against Portela. But it
could have been otherwise.
Capablanca–René Portela [A03]

Simultaneous Game with Clock, Havana, 7 September 1913
1. f4 d5 2. e3 c5 3. Nf3 Nc6 4. b3 Bg4 5. Bb2 e6 6. Bd3 Nf6 7. h3 B×f3 8. Q×f3 Nb4
9. Nc3 Or 9. Bb5+ Nd7 10. Na3 a6 11. Be2 Nf6 12. 0–0 Be7 13. c3 Nc6 14. c4 0–0 with an
186
even game. 9. … N×d3+ 10. c×d3 Qd7 11. 0–0 Be7 12. Rac1 Rc8 13. g4 d4 14. Ne4 N×e4
15. d×e4 0–0 16. e×d4 c×d4 17. Qd3 Bc5 18. Rc2 Bb6 19. Rfc1? It was necessary 19. R×c8
R×c8 20. Kh2 with an even game (see diagram)
19. … f6? Portela missed his second victory against Capablanca with 19. … Rc3! 20. Kf2
Now it is a trap 20. … Rc3? 21. d×c3 d×c3+ 22. Ke2. 20. … e5
21. R×c8 R×c8 22. R×c8+ Q×c8 23. f5 Qc5 24. Kf3 g5 wDrDw4kD
25. f×g6 h×g6 26. h4 Kg7 27. Qc4 Q×c4 28. b×c4 Bc5 29. Ke2 0pDqDp0p
f5 30. g×f5 g×f5 31. e×f5 Kf6 32. Kf3 K×f5 33. d3 Be7 34. h5 wgwDpDwD
Bg5 Better is 34. … Kg5 35. Bc1+ K×h5 36. Ke4 Bd6 37. Kf5 DwDwDwDw
Kh4 38. c5 B×c5 39. K×e5 Kg4 40. Bb2 Kf3 41. B×d4 b6 42. Bb2 wDw0P)PD
Bf8 43. Ke6 Ke2 44. d4 Bg7 45. Kf7 Bh8 46. Kg8 Bf6 with a DPDQDwDP
draw. 35. Ba3 Bh6 36. Bb4 Bg7 37. Bd2 Bf6 38. h6 a6 39. Bb4 PGR)wDwD
Kg6 40. Bf8 Kf7 41. Bd6 Kg6 42. Ke4 K×h6 43. B×e5 Be7 Dw$wDwIw
44. K×d4 Kg6 45. Kd5 Kf7 46. Bd6 Bd8 47. c5 and Black After 19. Rfc1
resigned. 1–0.
Yet already in December 1911, Juan Corzo wondered in El Fígaro: “Why does Capa-
blanca not play with the local amateurs, as he has done on other occasions, and as always
did the great masters who have visited us? To Capablanca that may not represent much work
and for our amateurs it would serve as pride and stimulus to cross their swords with such a
seasoned paladin. To have the Cuban Morphy among us and not find the opportunity to
admire his portentous combinations is, indeed, incomprehensible.”
Capablanca never answered this question, at least not publicly. Corzo did not put forth
the issue again until many years later in 1941, when Capablanca proposed a formula so that
those who wanted to play formal matches against him could earn that right. Capablanca
understood, after his surprising defeats against Portela, in Havana 1909, and Alberto Palacio,
in Buenos Aires 1911, that his prestige ran the risk of being damaged in informal games,
whose impact went far beyond their actual values. If in 1911, 1913 and 1914 he played many
individual exhibition games, both in Argentina and in Europe, it was because he was paid
for doing so. As a chess professional, those encounters were part of his livelihood. Instead,
asking for money in Cuba to play against his countrymen would have been interpreted as a
sign of greed and a lack of gratitude. Facing that dilemma, Capablanca opted for an inter-
mediate solution: face the best Cuban players, giving them odds, or performing in simulta-
neous displays.
After the Triangular Series, Capablanca held another two sessions of simultaneous dis-
plays. The first, on September 10, was against 11 opponents in the Union Club; he won all
the games. The second was the following day, against 10 of the best players of the Havana
Chess Club, among them Corzo himself, to whom he lost, in addition to granting two draws:
against Portela and José Van der Gucht. After that brief one-month stay in Cuba, Capablanca
returned to New York on September 20 in the steamer Havana with financial assurances by
Fernando Freyre de Andrade of a new tournament in 1914. Everything seemed so good that
the American Chess Bulletin announced excursions of 21-day trips to Havana, from December
27 to January 17, for an initial fee of $150 to $200 per person, which included the boat cabin,
the hotel room and tourist walks in the city. But in the end, the budget was not approved
and the tournament was never held.
From New York, Capablanca departed on October 2 to Europe aboard the ocean liner
Kaiserin Augusta Victoria. The Cuban began his third European tour on October 13, 1913,
at the City of London Chess Club, with a simultaneous exhibition against 28 players of first,
second and third categories of the institution. The result was 18 wins, 7 losses and 3 draws.
The Sunday Times of October 19, 1913, described in detail the development of the event:
The games were all concluded in four and a half hours, an average of something less than ten
minutes per game. Perhaps no chess player alive could undertake such a task and emerge quite a
hero. It is really too much for any master to attempt, unless perhaps, he were afforded ample
time to deliberate over his moves, in which case the exhibition would last for so long as to be
tedious and worrisome.… At least two of the games lost by the master can hardly be described as
masterly, he having lost them practically in the opening. But the majority was interesting and
instructive. And, in several, he made brilliant sacrifices and brought about pretty endings. On
the whole, considering the brief time in which the games were contested, it was a big achieve-
ment, and it is doubtful whether any other expert could have made as good a score in four and a
half hours against so formidable a team.
The newspaper recalled that among the rivals of Capablanca there were several of the
best players in the country, such as Reginald Price Michell, English amateur champion in
1902; Philip Walsingham Sergeant, who later wrote books about Paul Morphy; the Hun-
garian chess player Rudolf Charousek; and Harry Nelson Pillsbury. Among those present at
the exhibition was also the world champion Emanuel Lasker, who was passing through the
British capital. But neither the newspapers of London nor Capablanca said whether the two
masters talked, or if they even said hello to each other, which would have been news given
the state of animosity between them. Four days later, in the Coffee House Divan Strand,
Capablanca defeated all seven players he met, among them the German Edward Lasker, a
future five-time “Open Champion” of the United States. The next day (October 18), the
Cuban went to Paris, where he faced 27 opponents, with a result of 24 victories, two draws
and a defeat. There he played, and won, an exhibition game against two consultants, the
Frenchman Léonard Tauber and the Polish-French Arnold Aurbach. He also played two off-
hand games against Aurbach, losing one and winning the other. On October 25, he faced
33 Parisians and defeated 28, while two of them managed to defeat him and three drew. In
Frankfurt, Germany, he played on November 7 against 25 opponents, winning 23 games,
with 1 loss and 1 draw.1
Two days later, on November 9, there was so many people at his exhibition in Berlin
against 30 opponents that the local chess directors asked him to stay in the city for a longer
time. They sought to organize other simultaneous displays, as well as short series against the
Germans Jacques Mieses and Richard Teichmann. To be able to please them, Capablanca
needed a permit from the Secretary of State of Cuba. Luckily, the Cuban ambassador in
Germany, Gonzalo de Quesada y Aróstegui, understood that the diplomatic appointment
of the young chess player went beyond a mere administrative and bureaucratic function.
Therefore, he took upon himself the decision to postpone the departure of Capablanca to
St. Petersburg, after which he informed to his superiors in Havana2:
Berlin, November 10 1913
Capablanca going Petersburg. He played last night thirty simultaneous strongest players
Berlin Club getting sensational triumphs. Twenty-one seven two. It was attended by diplomats.
Congratulated press. Insisting he will play next Friday in view renowned Cuba I authorized him
delay travel.
Quesada.
From Havana, the Undersecretary of State replied to him:

Havana, 12 November 1913
Mr. Gonzalo de Quesada, Minister of Cuba in Germany, Berlin.
Mr. Minister
Having the honor to acknowledge to you receipt of your cablegram dated the current 10th, I
am pleased to express my satisfaction with the success obtained by Mr. Capablanca in the chess
games that he played, and that of course it has been granted the authorization given by you to
delay his trip [to St. Petersburg] in order to play again on Friday.
I reiterate to you my distinguished consideration.
Patterson, Undersecretary3
Thanks to the intervention of Quesada, the Berliners had several more opportunities
to enjoy the Cuban’s chess art, as on November 14 and 21, when he faced groups of 30 and
39 rivals, respectively. In the exhibition on the 14th, he suffered only 1 defeat and granted
6 draws, winning 23; while in the one on the 21st, he won 31 games, lost 2, and 6 players
managed to draw him. Also thanks to his longer stay it was possible to arrange two series
against the masters Mieses and Teichmann, which left games full of interest that have been
included in numerous anthologies.
Here are two of the encounters of these series:
Jacques Mieses–Capablanca [C22]

Exhibition Game, Berlin, 18 November 1913
1. e4 e5 2. d4 e×d4 3. Q×d4 Nc6 4. Qe3 Nf6 5. Nc3 Bb4 6. Bd2 0–0 7. 0–0–0 Re8
8. Qg3 Now it is considered better to go 8. Bc4 B×c3 9. B×c3 N×e4 10. Qf4 Re7 11. B×f7+
R×f7 12. Q×e4 with an even game. 8. … N×e4 Black could play 8. … R×e4! with a better
position. 9. N×e4 R×e4 10. Bf4 Qf6 11. Nh3 If 11. B×c7 d6 12. B×d6 Qh6+ winning. 11. …
d6 12. Bd3 Nd4 Better is 12. … Re8 (Capablanca). 13. Be3 Bg4 Black had two better con-
tinuations: 13. … Rg4 14. B×d4 R×d4 15. c3 B×c3 16. b×c3 Rg4 17. Qe3 Q×c3+ 18. Bc2
Q×e3+ 19. f×e3 R×g2 with four pawns for the piece and a better position. Or 13. … Nf5
14. Qf3 Re8 15. Bg5 Qe5 16. Bf4 Nd4 17. B×h7+ K×h7 18. Qd3+ Qf5 19. Q×d4 Bc5 with
a better position. 14. Ng5! Now White wins at least the exchange. 14. … R×e3 15. Q×g4
Ne2+ 16. B×e2 R×e2 17. Ne4 R×e4 18. Q×e4 Qg5+ 19. f4 Qb5 20. c3 Bc5 21. Rhe1 Qc6
22. Rd5 White can play 22. Q×c6 b×c6 23. Re7 Bb6 24. Rde1 Kf8 25. f5 with a winning
position. 22. … Qd7 23. f5 c6 24. Rd2 d5 25. Qf3 Be7 Moving the bishop to the a1–h8
diagonal to help in the attack against the White king. 26. Rde2
Bf6 27. Qh5 h6 28. g4 Kh7 29. Kb1 Not 29. h4? g6 winning. wDw4wDwD
29. … Rd8 30. Rd1 c5 31. Qh3 Qa4 32. Red2 Qe4+ 33. Ka1 0wDwDp0k
b5 34. Qg2 Qa4 35. Kb1 If 35. R×d5 Q×d1+ winning. 35. … wDwDwgw0
b4 (see diagram) Dw0pDPDw
36. c×b4 Q×b4 37. a3 Better is 37. h4. But not 37. R×d5 q0wDwDPD
R×d5 38. R×d5 B×b2 winning. 37. … Qa4 38. R×d5 Rb8 Now Dw)wDwDw
Black’s attack is very strong. 39. R1d2 c4 40. Qg3 Rb3 41. Qd6 P)w$wDQ)
c3 Also 41. … B×b2! 42. R×b2 c3! winning. 42. Rc2 c×b2 DKDRDwDw
43. Rd3 Qe4 44. Rd1 Rc3 White resigned. If 45. Qd2 R×a3 After 35. Kb1
and mate in at most four moves. 0–1.
On November 20, Capablanca played the second and last game of the series against
Teichmann, whom he had already defeated on November 15. About this confrontation he
wrote:
In this game, practically from the opening, White aimed at nothing but the isolation of Black’s
d Pawn. Once he obtained that, he tried for and obtained, fortunately, another advantage of
position elsewhere which translated itself into the material advantage of a Pawn. Then by accu-
rate playing in the ending he gradually forced home his advantage. This ending has the merit
of having been played against one of the finest players in the world [Chess Fundamentals,
page 215].
Capablanca–Richard Teichmann [D63]

Exhibition Game, Berlin, 20 November 1913
1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. c4 e6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. Nc3 Nbd7 6. e3 0–0 7. Rc1 b6
8. c×d5 e×d5 9. Bb5 Capablanca’s novelty. 9. … Bb7 10. 0–0 a6 Black should play 10. …
c5. 11. Ba4 Rc8 If 11. … c5 12. B×d7 N×d7 13. B×e7 Q×e7 14. d×c5 N×c5 15. N×d5 with
advantage. 12. Qe2 c5 13. d×c5 N×c5 14. Rfd1 N×a4 15. N×a4 b5 16. R×c8 Q×c8
17. Nc3 Qc4 Better is 17. … h6 18. B×f6 B×f6 19. Nd4 Qc4 20. a3 Q×e2 21. Nc×e2 Rc8
22. g4 g6 23. Kg2 Kg7 24. Nf4 Be5 25. Nd3 Bf6 with an even game. 18. Nd4 Q×e2 19. Nc×e2
Rc8 20. Nf5 Kf8 If 20. … Bd8 21. Nd6 Rc7 22. N×b7 R×b7 23. B×f6 B×f6 24. R×d5
Rc7 25. Rd2 with a winning position (Capablanca). 21. N×e7
wDrDwDwD K×e7 22. Nd4 g6 23. f3 (see diagram)
DbDwipDp With the idea of moving his king to e5, winning. 23. … h6
pDwDwhpD 24. B×h6 White has a winning position. 24. … Nd7 25. h4 Nc5
DpDpDwGw 26. Bf4 Ne6 27. N×e6 K×e6 28. Rd2 Rh8 29. Rc2! Rc8 If 29. …
wDwHwDwD R×h4 30. Rc7 Ba8 31. Ra7 Bc6 32. R×a6 winning. 30. R×c8
DwDw)PDw B×c8 31. Kf2 d4 32. e×d4 Kd5 33. Ke3 Be6 34. Kd3 Kc6
P)wDwDP) 35. a3 Bc4+ 36. Ke3 Be6 37. Bh6 Kd5 38. Bg7 Black resigned.
DwDRDwIw If 38. … Bf5 39. Kf4 Bd3 40. Kg5 Ke6 41. g4 Bc2 42. f4 Bd3
After 23. f3 43. f5+ g×f5 44. g×f5+ B×f5 45. d5+ winning. 1–0.
After that first victorious encounter against two of the strongest players of Europe,
Capablanca set course to the East. In Warsaw he offered two simultaneous displays, on
November 24 and 25, with results of 25 wins, 3 losses and 3 draws in the first; and 24 victories,
4 losses and 3 draws in the second. Then, he went to Lvov, Poland, and on November 27 he
beat a strong team of consultants composed of George Salwe, winner of the Russian Cham-
pionship of 1906, along with Aronson, Goldfarb, Gottesdiener, Hirszbajn and Rosenbaum.
On December 5, he arrived in St. Petersburg, assuming charge of the Consulate of Cuba
when he signed both for the office and for the equipment that was now under his care. Since
the first moment of his arrival in the city of the Neva, his magnetism and personality became
the subject of conversation in the social and intellectual circles. “[H]e is an utterly irresistible
person, handsome, lively, quick-witted and, this is the point—a genius,” the Russian composer
Sergei Prokofiev described him enthusiastically in his diary.4
On December 12, Capablanca started three two-game series against Eugene Znosko-
Borovsky, Alexander Alekhine and Fyodor Dus-Khotimirsky, sponsored by the St. Petersburg
Chess Club. The first game of the series was against Znosko–Borovsky, an adversary to
whom the Cuban had perhaps a particular interest in demonstrating his class and ability,
given the booklet that Znosko-Borovsky had written about him after the San Sebastián 1911
tournament. In addition, at stake was a gold cup that Capablanca could win if he defeated
all his rivals, or it would go to the Russian with the best score against the Cuban. In the
game Capablanca overlooked a strong tactical move and was fortunate not to lose the game.
Eugene Znosko-Borovsky–Capablanca [C90]

Exhibition Game, St. Petersburg, 12 December 1913
9. Bc2 c5 10. d3 Nc6 11. Nbd2 Be6 12. Nf1 0–0 13. Qe2 Nh5! 14. Ng3 If 14. N×e5 N×e5
15. Q×h5 Bg4 winning. 14. … N×g3 15. f×g3 If 15. h×g3 Bg4 followed by … f5. 15. … f5
16. e×f5 B×f5 17. Bb3+ Kh8 18. Bd5 Rc8 19. a4 Bf6 20. a×b5 a×b5 21. Bd2 Ne7 22. Be4
c4 23. Ng5 d5 24. B×f5 N×f5 25. Qh5 B×g5 26. B×g5 Qb6+ 27. Kh1 Rce8 28. g4 Nd6
29. Be3 d4 30. Bg1 c×d3 31. R×e5 R×e5 32. Q×e5 Nc4? Better
is 32. … Re8 33. Qf4 Qc6 34. B×d4 Kg8 35. Rf1 Qd5 with an wDwDw4wi
even game (see diagram) DwDwDw0p
33. Rf1? Losing his better chance with 33. Qf5! Qd8 w1wDwDwD
34. Q×d3 d×c3 35. Q×c3 and White is better. In some ways, DpDw!wDw
this has a similarity to the game Capablanca–Thomas, Hastings wDn0wDPD
1919,5 in which the Cuban overlooked his rival’s strong reply. In Dw)pDwDw
both cases they missed it. 33. … Qd8 34. Q×d4 Re8 w)wDwDP)
35. Qa7? He should had played 35. Re1 d2 36. R×e8+ Q×e8 $wDwDwGK
37. g5 Qf8 38. Qd5 Qg8 39. Qd7 Qf8 40. Qd5 with an even After 32. … Nc4
position. 35. … d2 36. Bd4 Re7 37. Qc5 Re1 White resigned.
0–1.
Two days later, after that dramatic struggle, it was the turn of Alekhine in the first of
his 49 games against the Cuban. The encounters between the two players were 25 days short
of covering a quarter of a century (from December 14, 1913, in which they clashed for the
first time, until November 19, 1938, when they did for the last time). Just few weeks before,
on October 31, Alekhine had reached 21 years of age, but he was already a veteran of the
board, with a total of 182 serious games played in tournaments, matches or exhibition games.
Of them, he had won 107, lost 42 and drawn 33, for a 67.85 percent effectiveness. His per-
formances until then were very uneven: he could sweep away the opposition as he did in the
Sixth All-Russian Tournament in 1909, where he obtained a full point lead over Gersz
Rotlewi, who the following year would win a strong tournament in Hamburg; but he could
also finish in fifth place, as in the Spring Tournament of the Moscow Chess Club of the same
year. His matches found an equal imbalance: he swept the German Curt von Bardeleben
3–1 with a single draw in 1908, but months later he lost against his compatriot Vladimir
Nenarokov, who defeated him the first three games in a match of six, so Alekhine decided
not to play the last three games and abandoned the contest. His performances in international
tournaments doubled those of Capablanca despite his being four years younger. While the
Cuban had only participated in two international tournaments (San Sebastián 1911; and
Havana 1913), Alekhine had competed in Düsseldorf 1908; Hamburg 1910; Carlsbad 1911;
Stockholm 1912; and Scheveningen 1913.6 Since then it became well known that for Alekhine
there was nothing able to capture his attention so much as chess and that he trained carefully
against each opponent.
Capablanca–Alexander Alekhine [D30]

1. d4 d5 2. c4 c6 3. e3 Nf6 4. Nf3 e6 5. Nbd2 Nbd7 6. Bd3 Be7 Black could play 6. …
Bd6 7. 0–0 0–0 8. Qc2 Re8 9. e4 e5 10. c5 Bc7 11. e×d5 c×d5 12. d×e5 N×e5 13. N×e5
R×e5 14. Nb3 g6 with an even game. 7. 0–0 0–0 8. Qc2 d×c4 Better seems 8. … b6.
9. N×c4 c5 10. Nce5 c×d4 10. … h6 should be considered although White is already better.
11. e×d4 Nb6 12. Ng5! g6 13. Ngf3 Kg7 14. Bg5 Nbd5 If 14. … h6 15. B×g6 h×g5
16. B×f7 Rh8 17. Qg6+ Kf8 18. N×g5 winning. 15. Rac1 Bd7
rDwDw4nD 16. Qd2 Ng8 17. B×e7 Q×e7 18. Be4 Bb5 19. Rfe1 Qd6 (see
0pDwDpip diagram)
wDw1pDpD 20. B×d5! e×d5 If 20. … Q×d5? 21. Rc5 winning. 21. Qa5
DbDnHwDw a6 22. Qc7 Q×c7 23. R×c7 h6 If 23. … Rab8 24. Ng5 Be8
wDw)BDwD 25. Ne6+ winning. 24. R×b7 Rac8 25. b3 Rc2 26. a4 Be2
DwDwDNDw 27. Nh4 h5 If 27. … g5 28. Nf5+ Kh7 29. Ng3 winning the bishop.
P)w!w)P) 28. Nh×g6 Re8 29. R×f7+ Kh6 30. f4 a5 31. Nh4 R×e5
Dw$w$wIw 32. f×e5 Kg5 33. g3 Kg4 34. Rg7+ Kh3 35. Ng2 and mate on
After 19. … Qd6 the next move. Black resigned. 1–0.
Regarding Alekhine’s defeats from this time against Capablanca, the Russian master
Piotr Romanovsky wrote that his compatriot did not even expect to draw them, because
Alekhine said that the Cuban’s play eclipsed that of all his rivals. It seems that at that time,
when Alekhine saw Capablanca playing live, he had changed his initial view regarding his
style, since his games had previously not impressed him so much. Alekhine, in his recollec-
tions after the death of Capablanca, wrote:
The first time I heard of Capablanca was in 1909, as indeed did all my contemporaries, when he
won his match against Marshall in such an astonishingly convincing fashion. Then he was
twenty and I was sixteen years of age. Neither his chess performance nor his style impressed me
at the time. His game seemed “new,” but lacking in uniformity. And then, when he won so fine a
victory from the competitive point of view at San Sebastián, 1911, most of his games were
decided by surprising tactical resources [107 Great Chess Battles, Dover, 1980, pages 157–158].
Now, instead, Alekhine had very high regard for the skills of Capablanca, according to
remembrances by Romanovsky in the magazine Shakmaty v SSSR, March 1956: “Capablanca
always sacrifices correctly and his entire game is so very beautiful, and so logical. He has
lifted the combination of these two elements of the chess fight to a higher level,” Alekhine
said. He regretted that Schlechter had lost his match against Lasker in 1910 because, in his
opinion, “if Schlechter had won the match, we would now be witnessing a great contest
between him and Capablanca.” Of course, Alekhine had the firm belief that Capablanca
would defeat Lasker and would be the next world champion. “For Lasker, Capablanca is
more dangerous than Rubinstein,” he told Romanovsky, who was flabbergasted when his
talented compatriot told him that he was already preparing for the fight for the world cham-
pionship against the Cuban.
In 1913, Capablanca and Alekhine formed a very close friendship. But the rivalry of chess
demoted it to a mutual disdain, as has happened so many times among leading figures of the
game, especially those who have met in a world championship. Various contemporary
accounts described them visiting together the mansions of the most prominent families of
St. Petersburg, where Capablanca, as Alekhine said in his recollections of the Cuban men-
tioned previously, was “the darling of the ladies.” Or both walking along the Nevsky Avenue,
three or four times, often in the company of the elder brother of Alekhine, Alexei.
It seems that both analyzed together several positions and one of the few times, perhaps
no more than two, that Capablanca mentioned a chess player as his study companion for a
variant of opening, he named Alekhine, when in the comments of his game against Janowski
in St. Petersburg, 1914, that appeared in Chess Fundamentals (page 221), he wrote: “I played
this move (1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. B×c6 d×c6 5. Nc3) after having discussed it
with Alechin on several occasions. Alechin considered it, at the time, superior to 5. d4, which
is generally played. He played it himself later in the Tournament, in one of his games against
Dr. E. Lasker, and obtained the superior game, which he only lost through a blunder.”
One more occasion on which Capablanca spoke of having analyzed a variant of opening
with a master was with Janowski, when commenting on a move by Tarrasch (against Lasker in
St. Petersburg 1914) “that has made so much noise among masters.” He added that before,
“Janowski in Paris had shown me that same move, and both were in agreement about its possible
effectiveness and that in any event it should be tried.”7 Some master like Ståhlberg (Moscow
1935) or Rokhlin (Moscow 1936) or a lesser known player such as the Venezuelan Martin
Ayala, told the Cuban about new variations, but Capablanca admitted having studied the open-
ings thoroughly on only one occasion, when he began to give lessons to the girl María Teresa
Mora in 1915, his only known student of chess. Gelabert related that at least once he saw Capa-
blanca taking chess books from the library of the Union Club, which he later returned with
his own annotations, but he did not mention what kind of chess books or when that happened.
In his chess studies with Alekhine, Capablanca was rather naive in disclosing his inter-
pretation of some positions to the Russian master because ever since that time Alekhine had
a secret agenda regarding him. Perhaps Capablanca never considered Alekhine an opponent
capable of defeating him, because he believed that in his eagerness of attack, the Russian
master did not properly understand the essence of the positions; or since he did not under-
stand properly the positions, he launched premature attacks. This criterion possibly started
to form in the Cuban’s mind from the game he annotated between Alekhine and Nimzo-
witsch in Vilnius 1912, mentioned in the previous chapter. There is no doubt that for
Alekhine, this brief stage of close contacts with Capablanca in the winter of 1913 and the
spring of 1914 was very fruitful, since seeing the Cuban evaluating positions almost certainly
improved his strategic understanding of chess. Since then, Alekhine’s style began to be pol-
ished, a process that bore fruit 13 years later, during the match of Buenos Aires in 1927.
In the last game of the first cycle of the exhibition matches, the Cuban handled Dus-
Khotimirsky in an instructive manner.
Capablanca–Fyodor I. Dus-Khotimirsky [C90]

9. Bc2 c5 10. d4 Qc7 11. Nbd2 Nc6 12. Nf1 Capablanca later suggested 12. d5. 12. … c×d4
13. c×d4 Bg4 14. d5 Nd4 15. Bd3 0–0 Better is 15. … Nh5 16. Be3 N×f3+ 17. g×f3 Bd7
18. Ng3 Nf4. 16. Be3 Rac8 He should have played the other rook instead (Capablanca).
17. B×d4! e×d4 18. a4! Qb6 19. a×b5 a×b5 20. h3! B×f3 If 20. … Bh5 21. g4 and the bishop
is out of play. 21. Q×f3 Nd7 22. Rec1 Nc5 23. b4 Na4 Better is 23. … N×d3 24. Q×d3 Bf6
(Capablanca). 24. R×c8 R×c8 (see diagram)
25. e5! g6 If 25. … d×e5 26. Qf5 winning. 26. e6! Rf8 If
wDrDwDkD 26. … f×e6 27. Qg4. 27. Ng3 Qb7 If 27. … f5 28. B×f5 g×f5
DwDwgp0p 29. N×f5 winning. 28. Nf5! f×e6 If 28. … g×f5 29. Q×f5 Kg7
w1w0wDwD 30. Q×h7+ Kf6 31. e×f7 Qd7 32. Qg6+ Ke5 33. Re1+ K×d5
DpDPDwDw 34. Qe4 mate. 29. d×e6 Qc7 30. Qc6! Qd8 31. N×e7+ Q×e7
n)w0PDwD 32. B×b5 Nc3 33. Qd7 Q×d7 34. B×d7 Rb8 If 34. … Nd5
DwDBDQDP 35. Rd1 Rf4 36. g3 Re4 37. Bc6 Re5 38. R×d4 Ne7 39. R×d6
wDwDw)PD winning (Capablanca). 35. e7 Kf7 36. Re1 Re8 Or 36. … d3
$wDwDNIw
37. e8=Q+ R×e8 38. B×e8+ Kf6 39. Re3 d2 40. Ba4 N×a4
After 24. … R×c8 41. Rd3 and wins (Kasparov). 37. B×e8+ K×e8 38. Re6 d5
39. Kf1 Nb5 40. Ke2 Nc7 41. Re5 Na6 42. b5 Nb4 43. b6 d3+
44. Kd2 Kd7 45. e8=Q+ Kd6 46. Qe7+ Kc6 47. Q×b4 Black resigned. 1–0.
It seemed that the gold cup would go into the hands of Capablanca and that he would
not lose any game against his opponents. But after scoring three straight wins, he fell to
Znosko-Borovsky in his only defeat in the formal games of exhibition against masters on
the European tour. The previously lost game against the Polish-French Arnold Aurbach in
Paris, October 23, 1913, was an offhand game without the formal character of the others.
After the series of exhibition games, the Cuban traveled to Riga, Latvia, where he
offered simultaneous displays on December 25 and 26, and of a total of 51 games, he just
lost 2. It was a very busy Christmas season, because he also faced 26 opponents in Liepaja
(Libau), Latvia, on December 28, of whom only two managed to beat him. On December
30, Capablanca defeated Nimzowitsch spectacularly in an offhand game despite the presence
of opposite-colored bishops. What the Cuban did to bid farewell to the year is unknown,
but it is clear that he was not in bed early. As the result, on the first of January in the Estonian
city of Tartu, he played exhausted against 27 opponents; he drew 3 games and lost 5, one of
them in just 10 moves.8 The newspaper Nordlivländisch Zeitung said that Capablanca had
a cold this day.
In the Russian city of Pskov, Capablanca had a perfect score of 31 victories on January
16, 1914. On January 20, he faced 20 chess players of St. Petersburg, with a result of 17 wins,
2 losses and 1 draw. At the end of January he paid his first visit ever to Moscow, where the city
fans showed him how strong they were: in a simultaneous display on January 30, the Cuban
master was defeated 7 times, while he won 21 and drew 4 games. On February 4 Capablanca
faced Ossip Bernstein again, in the first of two exhibition games. In the initial one Capablanca
used a concept not in vogue then, but utilized by Nimzowitsch at least once several years before.
Ossip S. Bernstein–Capablanca [D63]

Exhibition Game, Moscow, 4 February 1914
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Nf3 Be7 5. Bg5 0–0 6. e3 Nbd7 7. Rc1 b6 8. c×d5
e×d5 9. Qa4 Bb7 If 9… c5 then 10. Ba6 c×d4 11. e×d4 B×a6 12. Q×a6 Qc8 13. Qb5 Qb7
14. 0–0 a6 15. Qb3 Bd6 and White is a little better (Makarychev). 10. Ba6 B×a6 11. Q×a6 c5
12. B×f6?! Better seems 12. 0–0 c4 13. Rfd1 Qc8 14. Q×c8 Ra×c8 15. Ne5 Rfd8 16. Nb5 a6
17. Na7 Rc7 18. Nac6 N×e5 19. N×e7+ R×e7 20. d×e5 R×e5 21. B×f6 g×f6 22. R×c4 d×c4
23. R×d8+ Kg7 and the consultation game Bogoljubow and Bohatirchuk versus Capablanca
and Evenson, Odessa 1914, ended in a draw in 54 moves. 12. … N×f6 13. d×c5 b×c5 14. 0–0
Qb6 15. Qe2 c4 “All the onlookers, and most annotators, considered this last move of Black’s
as weak” (Capablanca). This idea influenced future generations. See, for example, the games
Bertok–Fischer, Stockhom 1962; Winnants–Kasparov, Brussels 1987; and Timman–Short,
El Escorial 1993. But it is interesting to mention that in the game Rubinstein–Nimzowitsch,
Carlsbad 1907, after 1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 e6 3. c4 c5 4. c×d5 e×d5 5. Nc3 Nc6 6. Bf4 c×d4 7. N×d4
Bb4 8. e3 Nf6 9. N×c6 b×c6 10. Bd3 0–0 11. 0–0 Bd6 12. Bg3 B×g3 13. h×g3 c5 14. Rc1 Be6
15. Qa4 Qb6, Nimzowitsch wrote in Die Praxis meines Systems (The Practice of My System),
1929: “At that time it was already clear to me that c5–c4 and not d5–d4 would be the right
plan, because the attempt to break through d5–d4 would push the ‘dynamics’ to the extreme
and thus be very wrong. Less dynamics would be better here: c5–c4, this plan gives a certain
security (our ‘blocked security’) and makes it possible on the other hand to develop a limited,
however reasonable, initiative.” The game Rubinstein–Nimzowitsch followed 16. Qa3 c4! and
ended with a Black victory on move 44 (see Aron Nimzowitsch: On the Road to Chess Mastery,
1886–1924, Per Skjoldager and Jørn Erik Nielsen, McFarland, 2012, pages 77–79). 16. Rfd1
Rfd8 17. Nd4 Kasparov suggested 17. e4 d×e4 18. N×e4 N×e4 19. Q×e4 Bf6 20. Q×c4 Q×b2
“with a position better for Black, but objectively drawn.” 17. … Bb4 18. b3 Giving Black a passed
pawn. Better is 18. Qc2 (Panov). 18. … Rac8 19. b×c4 d×c4
20. Rc2 B×c3 21. R×c3 Nd5! 22. Rc2 If 22. R×c4 Nc3 winning. wDw4wDkD
22. … c3 23. Rdc1 Rc5 24. Nb3 Rc6 25. Nd4 Rc7 26. Nb5 Bet- 0wDwDp0p
ter is 26. h3 (Kasparov). For example: 26. … Qb4 27. a3 Qa5 w1wDwDwD
28. Qf3 Rc4 29. Ne2 Re8 30. e4 Rc×e4 31. N×c3 N×c3 32. R×c3 DwDwDwDw
g6 33. Rc7 with an even position. 26. … Rc5 27. N×c3? Falling wDwDwDwD
in the trap. 27. … N×c3 28. R×c3 R×c3 29. R×c3 Maybe expect- Dw$w)wDw
ing 29. … Qb1+ 30. Qf1 Q×a2 (see diagram) PDwDQ)P)
29. … Qb2! “Simple and—let’s not be afraid to use the DwDwDwIw
word—a stroke of genius” (Botvinnik). White resigned. 0–1. After 29. R×c3
On January 5, before playing the second game—which ended in a draw—Capablanca

requested permission from Havana to participate in other European exhibitions and leave for
two months his responsibilities in St. Petersburg.9 On his way to Austria, Capablanca passed
through the Ukrainian city of Kiev, where on March 5 he faced the strong Ukrainian consultant
team composed of Efim Bogoljubow, who would play two matches for the world championship,
and Fyodor Bohatirchuk, who would win the Soviet Championship tied with Romanovsky in
1927. In the game, which ended as a draw, the Cuban was accompanied as consultant by the
Ukrainian A.M. Evenson. He also won against Bogoljubow and drew against Bohatirchuk in
games played at thirty moves an hour, in the apartment of Baron Engelhardt. These games have
not been found.10
From Ukraine, Capablanca traveled to Austria as a guest of the Wiener Schachklub to
play an exhibition game against the Czech Richard Réti. But following the interest shown by
the Viennese, he agreed to play two games against another master, the Polish-French Savielly
Tartakower. He also played one game in which Réti was his partner against the consultants
Hugo Fähndrich and Dr. Arthur Kaufmann; and another one against the consultants Fähn-
drich and Kaufmann in which Tartakower was his partner.
Réti and Tartakower’s visit to Vienna prompted the Austrian city to be later called the
“Capital of the Hypermodernism.” Tartakower coined the term hypermodernism in his 1924
book Die Hypermoderne Schachpartie, a title that many think was a response to Tarrasch’s
book of 1912, Die Moderne Schachpartie. In this way Capablanca met in Vienna two of the
champions of the new forces that were gestating in chess.
Tartakower, a year and almost nine months older than Capablanca, was treated by the
Cuban to a game full of dynamism, without caring that his pawns were divided into three
groups.
Savielly S. Tartakower–Capablanca [C45]

Exhibition Game, Vienna, 13 March 1914
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 e×d4 4. N×d4 Nf6 5. N×c6 b×c6 6. Bd3 Preferred nowadays
is 6. e5. 6. … d5 7. e×d5 c×d5 8. Bb5+ This exchange of bishops favors Black. Better is
8. 0–0 Be7 9. Nc3 0–0 10. Bg5 c6 11. Re1 with an even game. 8. … Bd7 9. B×d7+ Q×d7
10. 0–0 Be7 11. Nd2 Better is 11. c4 d×c4 12. Qc2 0–0 13. Nd2 c3 14. Q×c3 Rfe8 15. Qc2
Nd5 16. Nf3 Rab8 with an even game. 11. … 0–0 12. b3 Rfe8 13. Bb2 Rad8 14. Nf3 Ne4
15. Qd3 Bc5 16. Rad1 Re6 17. c4 Rd6 18. Rde1 If 18. c×d5 R×d5 19. Q×d5 Q×d5 20. R×d5
R×d5 and Black is a little better (Capablanca). 18. … f5 19. Bd4 B×d4 Worth considering
is 19. … Bb4 20. Re2 c5 21. Be5 Re6 22. c×d5 Q×d5 23. Q×d5 R×d5 with a small advantage
for Black. 20. N×d4 Qf7? This is a mistake; better is 20. … Rh6. 21. Nb5? White lost a
great opportunity with 21. N×f5! Q×f5 22. c×d5 c6 23. R×e4. 21. … R6d7 22. Rc1 If
22. N×a7 d×c4 23. Q×c4 Nd2 24. Q×f7+ R×f7 25. Nc6 Ra8 26. a4 N×f1 27. K×f1 Rd7
with advantage for Black. 22. … d×c4 23. Q×c4 Q×c4 24. b×c4 c6 Now the White knight
has to go to a poor position. 25. Na3 If 25. Nc3 Rd2 (Capablanca). 25. … Rd2 26. f3 Nc5
27. Rc2 R8d3 28. Re1 f4 29. Kf1 Kf7 30. Re5 If 30. R×d2 R×d2 31. Re5 Nd3 32. Ra5
Rf2+ 33. Kg1 R×a2 34. R×a7+ Kf6 35. h4 Ne5 36. Ra6 Kf7 37. Ra4 c5 and Black is winning.
30. … Rd1+ 31. Ke2 (see diagram)
wDwDwDwD 31. … Ne6! Winning. 32. R×e6 If 32. Rb2 Nd4+ 33. Kf2
0wDwDk0p R×a3 winning. 32. … K×e6 33. c5 Rd5 34. Nc4 If 34. Nb5
wDpDwDwD c×b5 35. c6 Rg1 36. Kf2 Rdd1 37. c7 Rdf1+ 38. Ke2 R×g2+
Dwhw$wDw winning (Capablanca). 34. … Rh1 If 34. … Rg1 35. Kf2 Rdd1
wDPDw0wD 36. Re2+ (Capablanca). 35. Nd6 If 35. Nd2 R×h2 36. Kf2 Rd5
HwDrDPDw (Capablanca). 35. … Rg1 36. Kf2 Rdd1 37. Rc4 Rdf1+ 38. Ke2
PDRDKDP) Re1+ 39. Kd2 Re5 40. R×f4 R×g2+ 41. Kd3 R×c5 42. Ne4
DwDrDwDw Rd5+ 43. Ke3 R×h2 44. a4 Ra2 45. Rg4 Ra3+ 46. Ke2 Kf7
After 31. Ke2 47. Ng5+ Kg8 48. Kf2 a5 49. Rg1 R×a4 50. Ne4 Rf5 White
resigned. 0–1.
Against Réti, who was six months and nine days younger than he, the Cuban won again
with the presence of opposite-colored bishops, but with an additional rook per side. Another
game held in Vienna, against Fähndrich and Kaufmann with Réti as a partner, would be
used by Réti, in his book Modern Ideas in Chess, to show the importance of the contributions
of Capablanca to hypermodernism, something that Réti also did in other articles.
Fähndrich and Kaufmann–Capablanca and Réti [C01]

Exhibition Game, Vienna, 11 March 1914
1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. e×d5 e×d5 5. Bd3 c5 6. d×c5 B×c5 7. Bg5 Be6 8. Nf3
Nc6 9. 0–0 0–0 10. Ne2 Better is 10. Qd2 (Capablanca). 10. … h6! 11. Bh4 Bg4 12. Nc3
Now White cannot play 12. Ng3 or 12. Nf4 because of 12. … g5. 12. … Nd4 13. Be2 N×e2+
14. Q×e2 “A position was arrived at here in which the opportunity presented itself to develop
a hitherto undeveloped piece and indeed with an attack. The move 14. … Re8 would have
had that effect and was in accordance with the principles prevailing when I grew up and
which correspond almost entirely with Morphy’s principles (for he would without consid-
ering have chosen that move). To my great astonishment Capablanca would not even consider
the move at all. Finally he discovered the following maneuver by means of which he forced
a deterioration of White’s pawn position and thereby later on his defeat” (Réti).
14. … Bd4! 15. Qd3 B×c3 16. Q×c3 Ne4 17. Qd4 g5 18. Ne5
Bf5 “With this game began a revolution in my conviction as to the rDw1w4kD
wisdom of the old principle, according to which in the opening 0pDwDp0w
every move should develop another Piece. I studied Capablanca’s wDwDwhw0
games and recognized that contrary to all the masters of that period DwgpDwDw
he had for some time ceased to adhere to that principle” (Réti). wDwDwDbG
19. f3 If 19. Bg3 N×g3 20. f×g3 B×c2 21. Ng4 f5 22. Ne3 Be4 DwHwDNDw
23. Rad1 Qb6 24. N×d5 B×d5 25. Q×b6 a×b6 26. R×d5 R×a2
P)PDQ)P)
$wDwDRIw
and Black is better (Capablanca). 19. … g×h4 20. f×e4 B×e4
21. Rf2 If 21. Ng4 f5! (Capablanca). 21. … h3 22. Re1 f5 23. g×h3 After 14. Q×e2
Qf6? It was better 23. … Kh7 (Capablanca). 24. Nf3? Better is
24. R×e4 d×e4 25. Rg2+ Kh8 26. Rg6 Rg8 27. Nf7+ Kh7 28. Q×f6 R×g6+ 29. Ng5+ R×g5+
30. Kf2 and Black cannot win at all (Capablanca). 24. … Kh7 25. Q×f6 R×f6 26. Re3 Rb6
27. b3 Better is 27. Rb3 R×b3 28. a×b3 a5 (Em. Lasker). 27. … Rc8 28. Nd4 Rf6 29. Rf4 Kg6
30. c3 Kg5 31. Ne2 Ra6 32. h4+ Kf6 33. a4 b5 34. a×b5 Ra1+ 35. Rf1 R×f1+ 36. K×f1 Ke5
37. Nd4 f4 38. Rh3 Rg8 39. Ke1 Rg1+ 40. Ke2 Rg2+ 41. Kf1 Rb2 42. Ke1 h5 43. Kd1 Bf5
44. N×f5 K×f5 45. c4 If 45. Rd3 Ke4 46. Rd4+ Ke3 47. R×d5 f3 48. Re5+ Kf4 49. Re7 f2
50. Rf7+ Ke3 winning (Capablanca). 45. … Ke4 46. Rc3 f3 47. Ke1 d4 White resigned. 0–1.
It was in Paris on March 24, after his second victory in the routine two-games series
with Aurbach, where Capablanca finished his long string of exhibition games against
many of the long consecrated as well as newly famous masters of Europe, with the colossal
result of 15 points of 17, after his sweeps of 2–0 against Alekhine, Aurbach, Dus-Khotimirsky,
Mieses and Teichmann; his 1½–½ against Bernstein and Tartakower; his 1–0 against
Réti, and his 1–1 against Znosko-Borovsky, not counting an offhand victory against
Nimzowitsch, consulting games, or his rare defeat facing a King’s Gambit against Aurbach
in October of 1913, in a light game in the house of the French chess patron Léonard Tauber.
The games of this tour subsequently produced the second monograph written about
Capablanca, a booklet published in 1915 in Berlin by the Polish-German Bernhard Kagan
with the title 20 Partien Capablanca’s aus seiner letzten Europe-tournée. Europe could
not remember a similar whirlwind since the appearance of Morphy in 1858. It seemed that
everybody was interested in Capablanca; Lasker barely appeared in the press. Truly, it was
because the world champion had moved away from chess after returning from New York, to
deal with his philosophical research and experiment with racing pigeons in his country home
on the outskirts of Berlin. But, according to his biographer, the Austrian Dr. Jacques Hannak,
in this last hobby Lasker’s ignorance on the subject was such that he attempted to reproduce
a specimen with two male pigeons.
Initially, Lasker refused the invitation to participate at St. Petersburg, but at the insistence
of the organizers, he replied that he would do it if they paid him 250 rubles for each game that
he played there, although he would be willing to donate 500 of those rubles for the competition
expense funds. Only players with at least one first prize in an international event were invited
to the tournament. The initial list, in addition to Lasker, Capablanca, Rubinstein, Tarrasch,
Marshall, Janowski, Bernstein, Blackburne, Gunsberg and the winner of the Russian Cham-
pionship, included Důras, Maróczy, Schlechter, Teichmann, the Austrian Max Weiss and the
Polish Szymon Winawer. This was an attention getter, because several of them, such as Black-
burne, Günsberg, Weiss and Winawer, were veterans who for many years had been away from
chess. Political tensions between Russia and Austria-Hungary were such that Důras, Maróczy
and Schlechter decided not to attend. Teichmann telegraphed at the last minute to announce
that he would not be present. This facilitated the inclusion of Alekhine and Nimzowitsch,
who had finished tied in the All Russia Masters’ Tournament, even after a small tie-breaker
match, in which each defeated his adversary once and the other game was a draw.
Perhaps because of those last-minute changes, the tournament format was something
unusual, for which it received strong criticism. But it had some resemblance to what was proposed
the year before in Havana, with a qualifying event and then a final double round, which on this
occasion was only for the first five places in the preliminary phase. Lasker wrote his impressions
of the participants in the St. Petersburg newspaper Rech (The Speech, April 1914): “Capablanca,
a Cuban, 25, is a well-built handsome man of Spanish type. So far he has played relatively little.
But his match with Marshall, the San Sebastián Tournament and several second-rate American
tournaments have strengthened his ambitions. On the whole, he has played well. The coming
tournament is a hard task for him, as his admirers expect very much of him, perhaps too much.”
Lasker suggested in Rech (April 1914) that he had traveled to Russia for the express
purpose of playing against the leading candidates for the world championship, making a sly
reference to himself: “Lasker, your obedient servant, was born in Germany and traveled for
many years. I now live in Berlin and am 45. I came to St. Petersburg in order to play with
the masters who speak aloud of their claim to the world championship.” In another St. Peters-
burg newspaper, Den (The Day), Lasker regretted that a certain local writer had qualified
Capablanca as a genius. The world champion attempted to demonstrate in detail that it was
necessary to be very careful when using such an expression. This was paradoxical, since
Lasker had recently stated that Rubinstein was a genius chess player. Wondering himself if
one could apply that adjective to Capablanca, Lasker responded no, although he at least
admitted that the Cuban was a master of exceptional strength:
Capablanca is a player of exceptional strength. His playing reveals willpower, a firm resolution to
win, and such resolve generates a creative force. For this reason his calculations are exact and
correct. And since he has been calculating exactly and correctly for many years, he has developed
an ability superior to mere calculation and akin to intuition…. Capablanca will have to prove
that he is worthy of standing alongside the foremost players and that he deserves the praise that
has been heaped upon him in advance … [Den, April 1914].
Capablanca did not respond to the comments made by Lasker. However, several years
later, in My Chess Career, he described a conversation which occurred shortly before the
competition, which made it clear that in his view, Rubinstein was his favorite, since he “is
in excellent health and has prepared for this tournament for a long time.” With respect to
Lasker’s performance, he said: “It is uncertain, because he is a little out of practice.” And
talking about himself, there was again the mention of a mysterious illness: “My health just
now is not very good, and I will be satisfied if I finish second.” But Nimzowitsch, his first
opponent, did not find any problem with the health of the Cuban, who showed the new
winds that blew in chess. Capablanca played an opening the strategic idea for which was
based on the sacrifice of a pawn for positional compensations.
Aron I. Nimzowitsch–Capablanca [C62]

1st Round, Preliminary, St. Petersburg, 21 April 1914
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bb5 d6 5. d4 Bd7 6. B×c6 If 6. 0–0 e×d4 7. N×d4
Be7 8. b3 N×d4 9. Q×d4 B×b5 10. N×b5 Nd7 11. Ba3 a6 12. Nc3 Bf6 13. Qd2 (or 13. Qe3
0–0 14. Rad1 B×c3! 15. Q×c3 Re8 16. Rfe1 Rc8 17. Qh3 Ne5 18. Bb2 Qg5 with equality.
Em. Lasker–Capablanca, New York 1924) 13. … 0–0 14. Rad1 B×c3! was suggested later.
But not 14. … Re8 15. Rfe1 Nb6 16. Bb2 Qd7 17. a4 Qc6 18. a5 Nd7 19. Ba1 Re6 20. Nd5
and White is better. Tal–Larsen, Bled 1965. 6. … B×c6 7. Qd3 e×d4 8. N×d4 g6 If 8. …
Be7 9. Nf5 with initiative. 9. N×c6 White plays to win a pawn, but better seems 9. Bg5 Bg7
10. 0–0–0 Qd7 (if 10. … h6 11. Bh4 0–0 12. f4 Re8 13. N×c6 b×c6 14. e5 d×e5 15. Q×d8
Re×d8 16. R×d8+ R×d8 17. f×e5 winning; if 10. … 0–0 11. N×c6 b×c6 12. e5 d×e5 13. Qf3
Qe7 14. Ne4 winning) 11. h3 0–0 12. Rhe1 and White is better. Alekhine–Brinckmann,
Kecskemet 1927. 9. … b×c6 10. Qa6 Qd7 11. Qb7 Rc8 12. Q×a7 Bg7 13. 0–0 0–0 “Niem-
zowitsch, it is true, does not make the best moves now, but he has been unjustly criticised
for loosing this game, although none of the critics have given a satisfactory line of procedure.
They have all suggested moves here and there; but the games of the great masters are not
played by single moves, but must be played by concerted plans of attack and defense, and
these they have not given” (Capablanca, My Chess Career). 14. Qa6 Rfe8 15. Qd3 Better is
15. f3, maintaining the attack against the pawn on c6 (Znosko-Borovsky). 15. … Qe6 16. f3
Nd7 17. Bd2 Better is 17. Bf4 Ne5 18. B×e5 B×e5 19. Rab1. 17. … Ne5 18. Qe2 Nc4 19. Rab1
Ra8 20. a4 If 20. b3 N×d2 21. Q×d2 Ra3 and Black is better; If 20. Be1 d5 21. b3 Nd6
22. a4 f5 and Black is better. 20. … N×d2 21. Q×d2 Qc4
22. Rfd1 Reb8 Black is already better (see diagram) r4wDwDkD
23. Qe3 If 23. Qd3 Qc5+ 24. Kh1 Rb4 25. Ne2 R×b2 Dw0wDpgp
26. R×b2 B×b2 27. Qb3 Bf6 and Black is better. 23. … Rb4 wDp0wDpD
24. Qg5 Bd4+ 25. Kh1 Rab8 26. R×d4 Q×d4 27. Rd1 Qc4 DwDwDwDw
28. h4 R×b2 29. Qd2 Qc5 30. Re1 If 30. Ra1 R8b3 winning. PDqDPDwD
30. … Qh5! 31. Ra1 If 31. Qf2 R×c2 winning. 31. … Q×h4+ DwHwDPDw
32. Kg1 Qh5 33. a5 Ra8 34. a6 Qc5+ 35. Kh1 Qc4 36. a7 Qc5 w)P!wDP)
37. e5 Q×e5 38. Ra4 Qh5+ 39. Kg1 Qc5+ 40. Kh2 d5 41. Rh4 DRDRDwIw
R×a7 42. Nd1 White resigned. 0–1. After 22. … Reb8
This game, which opened a new space in the conception of chess, as happened later
with the Benko Gambit, was not fully understood at its time. Even Lasker said that Capa-
blanca had been in an inferior position. Other commentators claimed that the Cuban was lost
because of the disadvantage of a pawn down, without understanding either the dynamics of
Black’s position or the capabilities of his pieces to create constant troubles to the adversary
pieces. In My Chess Career (page 145), Capablanca wrote: “I have chosen this game as an
example of positional play. The apparently simple moves are in reality of a very complicated
nature, and they obey a preconceived plan. Such games are in fact of the highest and most
difficult type, and only the connoisseur can fully appreciate them.” And in his book Think
Like a Grandmaster (1971), Soviet Grandmaster Alexander Kotov wrote: “It was realized
long ago that, for the sake of positional pressure on open lines supported by the action of a
long-ranging Bishop, it was possible without any real risk to give up a Pawn.… An example
of this was provided long ago as 1914 by Capablanca in his game with Nimzowitsch in the
St. Petersburg Grandmaster Tournament.”
In the third round, Capablanca had to work very hard to resist the pressure from Rubin-
stein, who threatened to beat him for the second consecutive time. The Cuban could finally
draw a game where he needed to find the right maneuver all the time. The game remains as
a classic of defensive play, and the Estonian Grandmaster Paul Keres analyzed it extensively
in his article (date and publication unknown) “How to Defend Difficult Positions,” which
later formed part of his book with Alexander Kotov, The Art of the Middle Game, published
in English in 1964. “When one refers to defense in the game of chess, then one must not
forget one name, and that is Capablanca.” According to Keres, “Capablanca’s strength as a
defensive player has not been appreciated to the full.… Capablanca defended himself with
remarkable coolness and astonishing powers of resource.” And he added: “There existed
very few masters indeed skillful enough to utilize a small end-game advantage against Capa-
blanca, who understood as no other person how to avail himself of the smallest possible
chance.”11
In the sixth round Capablanca had to play with Alekhine, who came from beating
Rubinstein in just 28 moves and with the Black pieces.
Alexander Alekhine–Capablanca [C66]

6th Round, Preliminary, St. Petersburg, 29 April 1914
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 d6 4. d4 e×d4 5. N×d4 Bd7 6. Nc3 Nf6 7. 0–0 Be7 8. Nf5
B×f5 9. e×f5 0–0 10. Re1 Nd7 11. Nd5 Bf6 12. c3 Nb6 13. N×f6+ Or 13. Be3 N×d5
14. Q×d5 Qd7 15. Rad1 a6 16. Bd3. 13. … Q×f6 14. B×c6 Better seems 14. Qc2 Rfe8
15. Bd2. 14. … b×c6 15. Qf3 Rfe8 16. Be3 c5 17. Re2 Re5 18. Rae1 Rae8 19. Qb7?
Better is 19. Bf4 R×e2 20. R×e2 R×e2 21. Q×e2 Kf8 22. g4 with an even game (Hübner).
19. … Q×f5 20. Q×c7 Qe6 21. Q×a7 Nd5 22. Kf1 Correct is 22. Qa4 g5 23. Kf1 Nf4
24. Rd2 Qg4 25. Qc6 d5 26. f3 Qh5 27. Bf2 with an even game. 22. … Nf4 23. Rd2 (see
diagram)
wDwDrDkD 23. … N×g2 Stronger was 23. … Qg4 24. f3 Qe6 25. B×f4
!wDwDp0p R×e1+ 26. Kf2 Rh1 27. Kg3 Qg6+ 28. Kh4 Qf6+ 29. Bg5
wDw0qDwD R×h2+ 30. Kg3 Q×g5+ 31. K×h2 Qh4+ 32. Kg1 Re1 mate.
Dw0w4wDw 24. K×g2 Qg4+ 25. Kf1 If 25. Kh1 Rg5 26. Qb7 d5 win-
wDwDwhwD ning. 25. … Qh3+ 26. Ke2 R×e3+ 27. f×e3 Q×e3+ 28. Kd1
Dw)wGwDw Q×e1+ 29. Kc2 Qe4+ 30. Kb3 A better defense was 30. Kc1
P)w$w)P) Qf4 31. Kc2 Qf5+ 32. Kb3 Qe6+ 33. Kc2 g6 although Black
DwDw$KDw has a winning position. 30. … Qc6 Better seems 30. … Ra8
After 23. Rd2 31. Qd7 (31. R×d6 h6 32. Qd7 Rb8+ 33. Ka3 Qc2) 31. … c4+
32. Kb4 Rb8+ 33. Ka3 Qe3 34. Rd5 Qb6 winning. 31. a4 If 31. a3 f5 32. c4 f4 and Black
is winning. 31. … d5 Not 31. … Ra8 32. R×d6!. 32. a5 Qb5+ 33. Ka3 If 33. Kc2 Qa4+
34. b3 Qa2+ 35. Kd3 Qb1+ 36. Rc2 Qf1+ 37. Kd2 Re2+ 38. Kd3 Qf3 mate; if 33. Ka2
Qa4+ 34. Kb1 Re1+ 35. Rd1 R×d1 mate. 33. … Rb8 34. Ka2 h6 35. a6 Qb3+ White
resigned. If 36. Kb1 Re8 37. Rc2 Re1+ 38. Rc1 Re2 39. Qb7 R×b2+ 40. Ka1 Ra2 mate.
0–1.
Bernstein was the next to sit in the hot seat.
Capablanca–Ossip S. Bernstein [D53]

7th Round, Preliminary, St. Petersburg, 1 May 1914
1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. c4 e6 4. Nc3 Nbd7 5. Bg5 Be7 6. e3 c6 7. Bd3 d×c4 Or
7. … 0–0. 8. B×c4 b5 9. Bd3 a6 10. e4 e5 If 10. …c5 11. e5 Nd5 12. B×e7 Q×e7 13. N×d5
e×d5 14. 0–0 and White is a little better. 11. d×e5 Ng4 12. Bf4 Bc5 Better is 12. … Qc7
13. Rc1 Nd×e5 14. N×e5 N×e5 15. 0–0 with only a small advantage to White. 13. 0–0
Qc7 14. Rc1 f6 If 14. … Ng×e5 15. N×e5 N×e5 16. Qh5 Bd6 17. Nd5 Qb8 18. B×e5 B×e5
19. R×c6 0–0 20. Rb6 Bb7 21. R×b7 winning. 15. Bg3 f×e5 16. b4! Ba7 If 16. … B×b4
17. Nd5 Qa5 18. N×b4 Q×b4 19. R×c6 winning (Capablanca). If 16. … Bd6 17. B×b5
a×b5 18. N×b5 c×b5 19. R×c7 B×c7 20. Qd5 Ra6 21. Rc1 Ngf6 22. Q×b5 winning (see dia-
gram)
17. B×b5! a×b5 18. N×b5 Qd8 19. Nd6+ Kf8 20. R×c6
Nb6 If 20. … Ndf6 21. Qb3 Qd7 22. Qc4. 21. Bh4 “This is to rDbDkDw4
my mind the finest move in the game. Before making it I had to gw1nDw0p
plough a mass of combinations which totaled at least one hun- pDpDwDwD
dred moves. The text combination is one of them, and I had to DpDw0wDw
see through the whole thing to the end before I decided on this w)wDPDnD
move. Otherwise the simple continuation 21. N×e5 would have DwHBDNGw
been adopted” (Capablanca). 21. … Qd7 22. N×c8! Q×c6 PDwDw)P)
23. Qd8+ 23. Be7+ Kf7 24. Ng5+ Kg6 25. Q×g4 Q×c8
Dw$QDRIw
26. Ne6+ also wins (Tarrasch). 23. … Qe8 24. Be7+ Kf7 After 16. … Ba7
25. Nd6+ Kg6 26. Nh4+ Kh5 26. … Kh6 27. Ndf5+ Kh5
28. Ng3+ Kh6 29. Bg5 mate. 27. N×e8 R×d8 28. N×g7+ Kh6 29. Ngf5+ Kh5 30. h3 Nc8
If 30. … Rdg8 31. h×g4+ R×g4 32. f3 Nc8+ 33. Kh2 N×e7 34. f×g4+ K×g4 35. N×e7 K×h4
36. a4 winning (Capablanca). 31. h×g4+ K×g4 32. B×d8 R×d8 Black is totally lost, but
the game still continued: 33. g3 Rd2 34. Kg2 Re2 35. a4 Nb6 36. Ne3+ Kh5 37. a5 Nd7
38. Nhf5 Nf6 39. b5 Bd4 40. Kf3 Ra2 41. a6 Ba7 42. Rc1 Rb2 43. g4+ Kg6 44. Rc7
R×f2+ 45. K×f2 N×g4+ 46. Kf3 Black resigned. 1–0
About this game, which received the First Brilliancy Prize of the tournament, Capa-
blanca wrote that it was “one of the most profound and original combinations ever played”
and “This game is perhaps the best I ever played.” Tarrasch, who won a beautiful game against
Nimzowitsch in the tournament, protested his not receiving the First Brilliancy Prize and
having to settle for the Second. But the jurors explained that to make their decision, they
took into account the fact that Capablanca’s combination was original, while the sacrifice
of both bishops by Tarrasch had the precedent of Lasker’s victory against Bauer in the Amster-
dam tournament of 1889. On May 3, 1914, Capablanca faced Janowski, and the Cuban used
the aforementioned recommendation of Alekhine.
Capablanca–Dawid M. Janowski [C68]

9th Round, Preliminary, St. Petersburg, 3 May 1914
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. B×c6 d×c6 5. Nc3 Alekhine’s recommendation. 5. …
Bc5 6. d3 Bg4 7. Be3 B×e3 8. f×e3 Qe7 8. … f6 (Kasparov). 9. 0–0 0–0–0 Better is 9. …
Nh6 10. Qe1 0–0 11. Qg3 f6 12. Nh4 although White is better. 10. Qe1 Nh6 11. Rb1! This
Capablanca idea is a model for this kind of position. 11. … f6
wDk4wDw4 12. b4 Nf7 13. a4 B×f3 14. R×f3 b6 “The only alternative would
Dw0w1n0p have been 14. … b5 which on the face of it looks bad” (Capa-
p0pDw0wD blanca). But anyway Black has a bad position (see diagram)
DwDw0wDw 15. b5! c×b5 16. a×b5 a5 17. Nd5 Qc5 18. c4 Ng5 19. Rf2!
P)wDPDwD But not 19. Rf1 Ne6 20. Qc3? R×d5 21. e×d5 Q×e3+ 22. Kh1
DwHP)RDw Nc5 (Kasparov). 19. … Ne6 20. Qc3 Rd7 21. Rd1 Kb7 Better
wDPDwDP) is 21. … Qd6. 22. d4 Qd6 23. Rc2 e×d4 24. e×d4 Nf4 25. c5!
DRDw!wIw N×d5 26. e×d5 Q×d5 27. c6+ Kb8 28. c×d7 Q×d7 29. d5 Re8
After 14. … b6 30. d6 c×d6 31. Qc6 Black resigned. 1–0.
After Capablanca’s victory, a question was opened to the fans of the game: Is chess so
easy? In the second edition of his book Mittelshpil: Kombinatsia, published posthumously
in the Soviet Union in 1963, Romanovsky said of this game:
The main playing strength of the Cuban chess player, Capablanca, consisted of the fact that he
was always guided by the spirit of the position. Nobody could compare with him in the ability
to quickly and faultlessly understand the core of a position, its spirit. Capablanca could make a
mistake in calculation, not choose the best variation, but he did not make a mistake in the
assessment of a position when it was a question of its spirit, its main point, the important and
essential in it.
Gideon Ståhlberg and Paulino Alles Monasterio wrote about the Cuban’s game in their
book: “There is not in his games a single combination that does not make the most perfect
unity of dense and accurate thinking with the noblest expression of the beauty of chess.”
In the eighth round, Tarrasch, despite playing with White, had to fight for the draw,
which he finally obtained after 59 moves. In the last rounds of the preliminary tournament,
Capablanca easily liquidated Gunsberg and Blackburne at just 26 and 31 moves respectively.
In reality, these two formidable masters were in their twilight; Gunsberg was 59 years old
and Blackburne, 72.
It is difficult to find a collection of games of such serene harmony as those played by
Capablanca in the preliminary round of St. Petersburg. This run of games can begin even
from the tournament of the Rice Chess Club in 1913, without losing its essential quality.
The year 1914 perhaps could be seen as representing the highest point of the career of the
Cuban, although for him personally that happened five years later, in 1919, in his match
against the Serbian Boris Kostić. As Alekhine acknowledged, first to his close friends, and
then in his recollection already mentioned, Capablanca was, in St. Petersburg in 1914, at
least of the same strength as Lasker: “His real incomparable gifts first began to make them-
selves apparent at the time of St. Petersburg, 1914, when I came to know him personally, too.
1914 St. Petersburg Preliminary

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
1 Capablanca, José R. • ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 8
2 Tarrasch, Siegbert ½ • ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 1 0 1 1 61⁄2 29.25
3 Lasker, Emanuel ½ ½ • ½ ½ 1 0 ½ 1 1 1 61⁄2 28.25
4 Marshall, Frank J. ½ ½ ½ • 0 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 6 27.50
5 Alekhine, Alexander 0 ½ ½ 1 • 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 6 26.50
6 Rubinstein, Akiva ½ ½ 0 ½ 0 • ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 5 21.00
7 Bernstein, Ossip 0 0 1 0 ½ ½ • ½ 1 ½ 1 5 20.25
8 Nimzowitsch, Aron 0 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ • ½ 0 1 4
9 Janowski, Dawid 0 1 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ • 1 ½ 31⁄2 15.50
10 Blackburne, Joseph 0 0 0 0 ½ ½ ½ 1 0 • 1 31⁄2 13.00
11 Gunsberg, Isidor 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 • 1
Neither before, nor afterwards have I seen—and I cannot even imagine as well—such a flab-
bergasting quickness of chess comprehension as that possessed by the Capablanca of that
epoch. Enough to say that he gave all the St. Petersburg masters the odds of five minutes to
one minute in quick games—and won!”
Lasker had no choice but to retract his comments prior to the final phase:
The impetuous Capablanca has had a series of brilliant victories and he is going on the top of
the classification. Getting eight points from ten possible is worthy of attention! Rarely does he
who occupies the first place win more than three quarters of the games played in a competition,
and this percent tends to decrease, which can be seen and proven in recent tournaments. The
success of Capablanca should not be attributed to blind luck, but to his brilliant performance.12
However, Capablanca did not keep such a pace in the second part of the competition,
where his attention seemed shared with “other interests,” as some newspapers in the city discreetly
said. In the eight games of the final part, the Cuban lost one with Lasker and another with Tar-
rasch, and obtained a total of five points; but Lasker scored seven points out of eight, which,
added to those of the preliminary phase, allowed him to finish with half a point above Capa-
blanca. Then the legend was born that the victory in the tournament was provided to Lasker
by a beautiful lady, lover of the Czar’s brother, who used to accompany the Cuban too many
hours of the day and evening. At least this does not seem true of the evening before his big
mistake against Tarrasch, since Capablanca was taking a walk through the Nevsky Avenue with
Alekhine, not with a lady. Anyway, it would always be wondered what Alekhine meant by the
phrase “youthful levity,” on which he put the blame for Capablanca’s failure to win the tourna-
ment at a time when he was the most impressive player in the competition. On the same subject,
the Russian composer Prokofiev wrote in his diary: “Sosnitsky [the vice president of the St.
Petersburg Chess Club] told me that Capablanca has been boozing until five in the morning in
the ‘Aquarium’ where he had been dragged by a woman friend who would not leave him alone.”13
This second-hand description about the consumption of alcohol by Capablanca is sur-
prising, because in an interview with the Yorkshire Evening Post, published on October 8,
1919, the Cuban said: “One has to keep fit or one cannot play chess. That is why I do not
smoke and drink very little wine.” In addition, several people who personally knew Capa-
blanca always said that they rarely saw him drinking alcohol. At most, one or two glasses of
wine, and that socially. On another page of his diary, Prokofiev identified a lady, perhaps the
same one by whom Capablanca was captivated, as one Mme. Strakhovich: “It was due to her
that he had failed to capture the first prize.”
World chess champion Mikhail Botvinnik also agreed that in 1914, the Cuban was the
most feared of the players who took part in the final phase of the competition, the famous “Five
Grandmasters,” as Czar Nicholas II proclaimed Lasker, Capablanca, Alekhine, Tarrasch and
Marshall in the closing banquet of the tournament. Marshall took the praise with humor, as
when he sent a photo of the group to his wife Carrie, he called them “The Five Woodshifters.”
The loss to Lasker in the second game of the second phase was painful. After surren-
dering, Capablanca remained for two or three minutes at the game table with his hands on
his head, as Romanovsky recalled. This is an image of the Cuban that contrasted radically
with his air of security and not letting himself be put down by setbacks. Twice before, in the
same tournament, Capablanca had Lasker against the ropes, but could not break the resist-
ance of his rival. After that game, Lasker had to wait 21 years (and 18 games) until the next
time that the Cuban knocked his king over before him. The argument of Capablanca’s “other
interests” cannot excuse the fact that he had not finished in first place in that competition.
The Cuban later wrote that he played sick the second part of the tournament, and that he
was exhausted. But against that excuse it should be noted that he was 25 years old and Lasker,
45. In third place in the competition finished Alekhine, three points behind the Cuban. It
then became evident that Lasker and Capablanca formed a category apart over the rest of
the best players in the world, and that only a match between them could settle the matter
of the world chess championship.
Through the chronicle that Capablanca sent to the magazine which he headed in Cuba,
he began by saying, “Once more luck has smiled on the world champion.” He also told his
compatriots about the praise of his style that he said was published in London by The Field
and announced his reconciliation with Lasker:
And finally, the most important fact, from a practical point of view; before last evening, after
the official distribution of prizes, the tournament Committee Director gave us a dinner. When
Mr. P.P. Sabouroff, President of the Association of players of Russia, toasted me, Dr. Lasker and
his wife came with their glasses of champagne where I was to drink to my health and success.
Already reconciled shortly thereafter, Dr. Lasker spoke to me about the question which is of
interest to everybody: the World Championship. As it is well known, he has to play with Rubin-
stein, and once he is finished with the match, I am convinced that there will be no difficulty in
fixing the conditions under which I shall play with the winner.14
After the tournament, Capablanca gave three other exhibitions in St. Petersburg on
May 24, 28 and 29, in which he won 71 games, lost 4 and drew 5 of a total of 80 encounters.
He spent the month of June waiting for an answer from Havana to his request of a transfer
to Buenos Aires. But at the end of that month he received the news from Quesada y Aróstegui
that his new assignment would be in Berlin, as the general consul there was moved to Ver-
acruz, Mexico, to leave him that vacant post.15 On July 13, Capablanca made the handover
of the Cuban consulate in St. Petersburg to his replacement.
rt
1914 St. Petersburg Final o -pa l
1 2 3 4 5 Total Tw Tota
1 Lasker, Emanuel • ½-1 1-1 1-½ 1-1 7 13½
2 Capablanca, José R. ½-0 • ½-1 1-0 1-1 5 13
3 Alekhine, Alexander 0-0 ½-0 • 1-1 1-½ 4 10
4 Tarrasch, Siegbert 0-½ 0-1 0-0 • 0-½ 2 8½
5 Marshall, Frank J. 0-0 0-0 0-½ 1-½ • 2 8
After relinquishing his diplomatic position—renouncing his appointment as chancellor

in Berlin, for reasons never fully explained; even Corzo was surprised—on July 13 Capablanca
gave the Cuban consulate’s local post in St. Petersburg to his number two, Manuel Calvo,
along with the formalities of the case, which included official documents, records and other
belongings according to the inventory of the previous June 30.”16 Regino Truffin, mentioned
in Havana as a candidate for the new post of Cuban ambassador or minister in St. Petersburg,
never showed up. One copy of the transfer was sent to Havana and another to Quesada, the
senior Cuban official in central Europe. That way Capablanca ended his diplomatic post in
the capital of Russia and left the country on an indeterminate date in July. Capablanca’s
diplomatic file does not offer any hint about the reasons for his departure, but St. Petersburg,
so far away, did not offer him any inducement to remain.
Nevertheless when the Cuban received an invitation to take part in a tournament in the
German city of Mannheim that was to start on July 20, he politely declined with the excuse that
he needed permission from the Cuban diplomatic service to leave his post in St. Petersburg. Later
he told the truth when he wrote that the prizes “were insignificant” and that was the real reason
why neither Lasker, Rubinstein, Schlechter, Teichmann nor himself had participated. Also he
was planning his trip to Argentina. It was a wise decision, because Europe was on the threshold
of war, with belligerent offensive movements from all parts. Alekhine, instead, accepted the
invitation to play in Mannheim at the last minute, when he received assurances that Capablanca
would not participate. Then he said to Romanovsky that if the Cuban had been in the tourna-
ment, he would have refused to play, because it was in his plans to attain a distinguished record,
and a result behind Capablanca would dim it. As a matter of fact, Alekhine finished ahead of
the Cuban in a competition only once, in the AVRO tournament of 1938, in which he finished
tied for fourth, fifth and sixth place with Euwe and Reshevsky, while Capablanca ranked seventh,
with one point less. In total they participated jointly in six international chess tournaments.
The history of the 33 days from the assassination of Austro-Hungarian Archduke Franz
Ferdinand on June 28, 1914, until the declaration of war on Russia by Germany on August
1, has given rise to a copious literature that is not necessary to reproduce here. How was it
possible that so many chess players, mostly from Russia, came to Mannheim in such a carefree
way? Apparently, it was a widespread blindness common to all Europeans, whose heady and
innocent trust in their respective governments was described by the Austrian writer Stefan
Zweig in his autobiography of 1942 Die Welt von Gestern (The World of Yesterday). Alekhine
and other players who found themselves in a country that had suddenly become a fierce
enemy, had marched confidently to Germany in a moment in which the atmosphere was
loaded with bellicose proclamations, military marches and mobs that roamed some of the
main European cities crying out for war.
Capablanca was at the center of the storm in Berlin those
mid–July days, in which the German Kaiser Friedrich Wilhem II w$wIwDwD
had already given instructions to be ready to his General Helmuth iwhwDwDw
von Moltke, while the Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Sazonov N0wDwDwD
had convinced the Czar to mobilize the Russian army. But the DPDnDwDw
Cuban master later confessed that the outbreak of war surprised wDwDwDwD
him. Capablanca and Lasker agreed in Berlin to a series of 10 blitz DwDwDwDw
games that the Cuban won by a score of 6½–3½. From that series wDwDwDwD
only a position remains (see diagram): DwDwDwDw
1. N×c7 N×c7 2. Ra8+! N×a8 If 2. … K×a8 3. K×c7 Ka7 White to move
4. Kc6 Kb8 5. K×b6 (or 4. … Ka8 5. K×b6 Kb8 6. Ka6 Ka8 7. b6 Kb8 8. b7 winning) 5. K×b6
Ka8 (if 5. … Kc8 6. Ka7 winning) 6. Kc7 Ka7 7. b6+ winning. 3. Kc8 winning. Because if
3. … Nc7 4. K×c7 Ka8 5. K×b6 Kb8 6. Ka6 (not 6. Kc6? Ka7 7. Kc7 Ka8 draw) 6. … Kc7
7. b6+ Kb8 8. b7 Kc7 9. Ka7 winning.
At first it was believed that Lasker had won this game; then the critics said it was a vic-
tory for Capablanca. The truth is that it was neither one nor the other. Both grandmasters
had played a position of the same nature in one of the victories of the Cuban, as Capablanca
explained, and this prompted both players to remove some elements and add others to com-
pose an endgame of some similarity with the real game. The Cuban offered this information
in the Capablanca Magazine, number 40, September 30, 1914. In the American Chess Bulletin
( January-February 1915, page 1), the same information was offered, but with an additional
and important comment. After finishing the series, Lasker said to Capablanca: “It is remark-
able; you do not make mistakes.” A high compliment from the world champion that reminds
one of Rubinstein’s praise at San Sebastián in 1911.
When Capablanca arrived in Berlin, his resignation from the post of general consul in
the German capital had already been accepted as of June 25. Apparently, Quesada explained
to him that the Cuban diplomatic service did not contemplate another license, so he had
no alternative but to resign and then request his reinstatement. While Mario García Menocal
was president of Cuba, such proceedings would not encounter obstacles, at least in his case. 17
Meanwhile, the diplomatic career of Capablanca had come to a provisional end after
exactly one year of exercising it: from June 25, 1913, to June 25, 1914. From Berlin he traveled
to Paris and from there to the French town of Cherbourg, where he took the German ship
Cap Vilano, which covered the route Hamburg–La Plata–Buenos Aires. At the outbreak of
the war, the ship headed for Pernambuco, Brazil, where its arrival was delayed because despite
going at full speed it had to execute evasive maneuvers to avoid the English battleships. “At
night we traveled without light,” wrote Capablanca, “and once inside the neutral port, we
waited for two days the arrival of the Amazon that returned us on the way.”18
From Lisbon, Capablanca sent a postcard of the ocean liner Cap Vilano to his parents.
To Corzo, he sent a theoretical comment about the Ruy Lopez opening, his second article
on St. Petersburg 1914. Before, he had sent a summary of the competition with the title
“After the tournament,” published in the June 1914 issue of Capablanca Magazine, where he
offered the news of his reconciliation with Lasker, as well as the new plans for the world
championship. He was not imagining yet the magnitude of the tragedy that was coming,
nor suspecting its duration or the aftermath of destruction that it would leave.
In Pernambuco, many passengers got off the German boat and changed to the Amazon.
It was the same ship Capablanca had used for his first trip to Buenos Aires in 1911. But to
his surprise and anger, on this occasion he had to pay for the last stretch double the usual,
38 pounds sterling, which he acquired the disadvantageous exchange of 30 French francs
per pound. Back in New York, he joked that he had not decided yet if he would help Germany
in its war effort, but that he would not forget for a long time the rapacious attitude of the
English captain of the Amazon.
In My Chess Career (pages 145–146), Capablanca took stock of his chess strength:
Looking back to this period from San Sebastián to St. Petersburg, it will be found that the play
has gradually developed in strength. The endings are more than ever before of a high type, the
imagination has reached its full scope.… The openings are much better played, and in fact there
seems to be no special weakness in any of the departments of the game. I think I might be said to
have reached the height of my power as a chess master. It is only in the openings that I have yet a
great deal to learn.…
Perhaps Capablanca did not realize that both the routes of Cap Vilano first, and the
Amazon after, by taking him away from the warlike European shores, also distanced him
from his dearest ambitions. During the next five important years, the Cuban had to keep
almost completely to himself the strong level he had achieved.
8. A King in Waiting
In 1914 a king was waiting for his investiture.

The war in Europe, however, put a stop for a while to any plan to hold a world chess
championship. Capablanca was obliged to accept that reality and wait, but his pain was less
severe than the calamities that were now afflicting millions of Europeans, Lasker and Alekhine
amongst them. Some of the chess players at the time did not survive the effects of the catas-
trophe: the gentle Karl Schlechter, for instance, died in Budapest of starvation on December
27, 1918.
When the Cuban arrived in Buenos Aires on August 17, 1914, his original idea was to
remain there for six weeks, but he had to stay in Argentina for a total of four months, because
of the intense warfare being waged in the South Atlantic and the lack of transoceanic liners.
Exaggerated rumor had it that German submarines or battleships were sinking all vessels
suspected of transporting goods for the Allied nations, or even neutral passenger ships.
Weighing this eventuality, Capablanca decided to wait. Over this time in Argentina he played
10 individual games and six in consultation, with victories in all of them. He also offered six
sessions of simultaneous display with a total of 180 games. His winning percentage was close
to 95, which the Buenos Aires press considered “colossal.”1
His last lecture in Argentina was in the library of the National Council of Women.
Since his previous visit, Capablanca noted that several ladies participated in simultaneous
exhibitions. This tradition had been inaugurated by Enriqueta Lynch in 1910, playing in one
simultaneous display against Emanuel Lasker. One of the liveliest games of this stage in
Argentina was against one of the main promoters of the game in the South American coun-
try.
Benito H. Villegas–Capablanca [D04]

Casual Game, Buenos Aires, 25 August 1914
rDwDkDw4
1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. e3 c6 4. Nbd2 Bg4 5. Be2 Nbd7 0p1ngpDp
6. c4 e6 7. 0–0 Better is 7. Ne5 (Capablanca). 7. … Bd6 8. Qc2 wDpDphwD
Qc7 9. h3 A possibility is 9. c×d5 c×d5 (9. … e×d5 10. e4) Dw)pDw0w
10. Q×c7 B×c7 11. b3 with an even game. 9. … Bh5 10. c5 Better w)w)wDPD
is 10. e4 (Capablanca). 10. … Be7 11. b4 Better is 11. e4 (Capa- DwDQ)NDP
blanca). 11. … g5 12. g4? 12. e4 (Capablanca). 12. … Bg6 13. Bd3 PDwHw)wD
B×d3 14. Q×d3 (see diagram) $wGwDRIw
14. … h5! 15. g×h5 R×h5 16. Kg2 g4 17. h×g4 N×g4 After 14. Q×d3
208
18. Bb2 0–0–0 19. Rg1 If 19. Rh1 Rg8! 20. R×h5 Nge5+ winning. 19. … Rh2+ 20. Kf1 If
20. N×h2 Q×h2+ 21. Kf3 Q×f2+ 22. K×g4 Nf6+ 23. Kg5 Rg8+ 24. Kh6 Qh4 mate. 20. …
R×f2+ 21. Ke1 Ndf6 22. Ne5 N×e5 23. d×e5 Ne4 24. Bc3 If 24. N×e4 d×e4 25. Qc3
(25. Q×d8+ Q×d8 26. K×f2 [26. Rd1 Qh8 27. K×f2 Qh2+ 28. Kf1 Bh4 29. Rg2 Qh1+
30. Rg1 Qf3 mate] 26. … Qd2+) 25. … Bh4 winning (Capablanca). 24. … Bh4 25. Kd1
R×d2+! White resigned. If 26. B×d2 Nf2+. 0–1.
Capablanca could at last depart from Buenos Aires on December 18, 1914, thanks to
the efforts of the foreign and marine minister of that country, Dr. José Luis Murature, who
managed to allow him to travel on the navy ship Chaco. Part of the crew had been assigned
to the new combat cruiser Mariano Moreno (Capablanca later wrote that it was the twin
ship Rivadavia) that was receiving its finishing touches at the Philadelphia shipyard. It was
during this journey that Capablanca advised the crew of the Chaco in a wireless game against
the sailors from the other boat that accompanied them, as already mentioned above.2
The chess game was not the most exciting moment of the journey, but instead a tropical
storm disturbance that surprised the small flotilla out of San Juan, Puerto Rico, where it had
made a stopover to refuel. The “tail” of the hurricane shook the ships for two days. In order
to eat, they had to grasp the guardrails of the boat. For Capablanca “it looked anything but
a tail.” He told of his adventures as a jubilant boy and his mischief-making to those gathered
at the Manhattan Chess Club, when he arrived there unexpectedly at nightfall on January
18, 1915. Without much money in his pockets, Capablanca needed immediately to put up
an activity to cover his expenses, but
these arrangements would take one week
at least. Consequently, his first exhibi-
tion did not occur until January 26 in
Brooklyn, as a preamble to his new tour
of exhibitions in the United States, the
fifth, as Brandreth and Hooper described
it.3
During that stay in New York,
Capablanca went to the studio of Ben-
jamin J. Falk, a photographer who had
made his name with portraits of
famous tenors and sopranos. Thanks to
the photos taken of the Cuban there,
not only has one of his most famous
images in black and white as a young
man been preserved, but also a small
series in “four color” that he auto-
graphed and sold at a cost of one dollar Capablanca in a splendid moment of his youth.
each, including the costs of mailing, Always careful of his professional appearance, the
according to American Chess Bulletin young master went in 1915 at least twice to the studio
of March 1915. The magazine also of Benjamin J. Falk, famous for his artistic portraits
included the following promotion: of opera singers. There was also a small series in “four
color” that he autographed and sold for a dollar each,
“The champion is also ready to take including the costs of mailing (courtesy of Mercedes
private pupils, special arrangement at Capablanca).
half price being made for series of ten lessons. For further particular inquiries you should
see Mr. Capablanca either at his office or at the clubrooms of the Manhattan Chess Club,
Carnegie Hall, Seventh Avenue and Fifty-sixth Street, New York. Amateurs desiring to play
chess with Mr. Capablanca by correspondence can do so at the rate of $10 for two games
conducted simultaneously.”
Capablanca gave two more exhibitions in the Manhattan Chess Club: on February 4
and February 12. The first was like a warmup for the second, a giant display initially conceived
against 64 opponents (at the end there were 65), and sponsored by the Brooklyn Daily Eagle
newspaper. The night before the February 12 simultaneous, Capablanca joked that if one of
his friends should appear in the site of the exhibition with a taxi, they should not be surprised
that he would take it after the exhibition ended, as he would be very exhausted. Actually, it
did not happen that way, because the Brooklyn Daily Eagle editors invited him to dinner at
the Clarendon, a restaurant in vogue among journalists. What Capablanca did not foresee
was that he would wake up with a terrible headache the day of the simultaneous display. It
was only relieved while he was walking towards the auditorium of the newspaper from the
home of his old acquaintance William M. Visser, champion of the State of New York in
1899, with whom he had lunched. This little known episode may be another indication that
his high blood pressure problems could have affected him long before they are usually esti-
mated to have appeared. In the event Capablanca won 48, lost 5 and drew 12.
The news of his discomfort on the day of the big simultaneous display soon arrived in
Havana, where one of the newspapers published it in an alarmist tone. This caused the con-
sequent fright of Capablanca’s mother, María Matilde, who immediately wrote to him to ask
about his health. To calm her, Capablanca wrote back while he was in Ohio.
Statler Hotel
Cleveland Ohio
March 17/ 1915
My dear Mom:
Yesterday, I received your letter and the one from [Salvador] Tadeo. What you say of Brook-
lyn did not happen that way. I had a headache before the beginning and because of that I did not
have a better result. After it finished, I felt better and a few moments later, it all had gone. It was
not any effort. I know well what I do. Do not worry about that. I am now in very good health.
When I will go to Havana, I will publish an article about all that. There, they are brutes in those
things, as is the case in almost all the rest of the world.
Congratulate Dad on my behalf. If not for your letter, I would not have even known that my
saint’s day was on the 19th. I do not worry about those things anymore.
If Nene [Ramiro Capablanca] owes Dad $15, when you receive this letter tell Dad on my
behalf to give you $20 and then give them to Nene to pay Dad. Tadeo is asking me for money.
He must know that I am very short of dough and for the moment, I cannot send him what he
wants.
Regards to everyone and embraces for you, your son,
Raúl
You do well to see the director so he can get something for Tadeo.4
Despite his headache, the display was a total success for Capablanca. In 65 boards he
faced 84 registered adversaries in consultation (others calculated at least 105). With this he
established a record for the United States, playing eight games more than Marshall, who on
April 13, 1913, had faced 57 opponents in Pittsburgh. According to the American Chess Bul-
letin, March 1915, the attention attracted by the Cuban was such that “the hall was not
Mysterious explanations. Page 2 of a three-page letter home. In Cleveland, on March 17, 1915,
Capablanca finds time to explain to his mother that he had a headache at the beginning of the giant
simultaneous display against 65 boards in Brooklyn, “but minutes later it had already passed.” This
kind of cryptic communication about his physical ailments was common between them starting in
1904, when he traveled for the first time to New York (courtesy of Mercedes Capablanca).
merely crowded; at times it was actually mobbed. People who came early and were once
inside were unable to get out until the crowd had thinned away around supper time.”
When Capablanca arrived at the place of the exhibition, it was difficult for him to get
to the boards, so great was the number of people gathered there. Although officially the
opponents of the Cuban were 84 in consultation, he actually had to face the joint force of
many more, since each attendee had in mind his “winning move” and each wanted to be
heard:
The chief diversion of the spectators, who were packed closely back of the line of players, was to
form consultation bodies, which discussed the position in front of them in the liveliest fashion.
Whether the players wanted to or not, they had to admit these ready and insistent volunteers into a
partnership that was anything but silent, for they simply would not be denied. The result was that
Capablanca, at a conservative estimate, had the wits of perhaps two hundred persons opposed to
him.… In short it was a genuine chess picnic … [American Chess Bulletin, March 1915, page 42].
The chess party lasted six hours and 45 minutes. A viewer who did improvised statistics
calculated that Capablanca consumed an average of about 10 minutes for each of the first
40 rounds, when almost all rivals remained in the fight: “The longest time for the circuit of
the boards was 20¼ minutes for the ninth round. Thereafter the time seesawed between 16
and 17 until the nineteenth round when it went down to 13½. With only nine players in
line, the Cuban got around in two minutes.”5
From his games in this simultaneous display, his encounter against the strong Danish
player Einar Michelsen stands out. In 1903, Michelsen was one of the founders of the chess
magazine Skakbladet in his country. He emigrated to the United States in 1905, and in 1907
won the championship of the Western Chess Association in Excelsior, Minnesota. In 1909,
won the Chicago Chess and Checker Club championship. And in 1945 at age 60, he finished
fourth in the U.S. Open. The game has the particular significance that Capablanca made a
positional exchange sacrifice, something that many years later was one of the specialties of
another future world champion, the Armenian Tigran Vartanovich Petrosian.
Capablanca–Einar Michelsen [B38]

Simultaneous Game, New York, 12 February 1915
1. e4 c5 2. d4 Nc6 3. Nf3 c×d4 4. N×d4 g6 5. c4 Nf6 6. Nc3 d6 7. Be3 Bg7 8. Be2
0–0 9. 0–0 Bd7 10. f3 a6 Nowadays the main variation for Black is 10. … N×d4 11. B×d4
Bc6 12. Qd2 a5 13. b3 Nd7 14. Be3 Nc5 15. Rab1 Qb6 16. Rfc1 Rfc8. 11. Qd2 Rc8 12. Rac1
Re8 13. b3 Qa5 14. Rfd1 Nh5 15. g3 If 15. Nd5 Q×d2 16. R×d2 N×d4 17. B×d4 Bh6 18. Be3
B×e3+ 19. N×e3 with an even game. 15. … f5 16. e×f5 g×f5 17. Nd5 Now this move is
stronger. 17. … Q×d2 18. R×d2 N×d4 19. B×d4 Bc6 20. f4
wDrDnDrD B×d5 21. B×g7 N×g7 22. R×d5 Kf7 23. Rcd1 Kf6 24. h3 Rg8
DwDwDwDp 25. Kf2 Ne8 26. g4 e6 27. R5d3 b5 (see diagram)
pDw0piwD 28. R×d6! N×d6 29. R×d6 b4 30. Bf3 a5 31. Ke3 h5?
DpDwDpDw Giving White a passed pawn. Better is 31. … Rgd8 but White is
wDPDw)PD better after 32. Ra6 f×g4 33. h×g4 Rc5 34. Ra7. 32. g5+ Ke7
DPDRDwDP 33. Ra6 Rc5 34. Kd4 Rc7 If 34. … Rgc8 35. Bb7 R8c7 36. h4
PDwDBIwD Kd7 37. Bf3 winning. 35. R×e6+! K×e6 36. Bd5+ Kd6
DwDRDwDw 37. B×g8 Re7 38. c5+ Kc6 39. Bd5+ Kb5 40. g6 Black resigned.
After 27. … b5 1–0.
After Marshall received the news of Capablanca’s success in the giant simultaneous dis-
play, he organized, with the help of the chess club of Oregon, a bigger one of 92 boards which
was held on February 23. This moved Marshall very close to the world record of the Swiss
Hans Fahrni, who on June 29, 1911, had played 100 simultaneous games in Munich, Germany.
On the next day of the simultaneous display in Oregon, Capablanca got a call from the
Brooklyn Daily Eagle to inform him that Marshall had surpassed his American record. The
Cuban, far from taking it as something personal, considered it proof that despite the difficult
times, enthusiasm for promoting a peaceful pastime like chess still existed: “Extraordinary,
very good! They must be going crazy about chess over there. I had no idea they could get
together such a crowd out in Oregon…” (American Chess Bulletin, March 1915, page 49).
After the tour of 10 cities and five weeks (from March 1 to April 7), Capablanca
returned to New York on April 13 from New Orleans to participate in the American National
Tournament of 1915, which would begin on April 19 with the participation of eight players
in a double round competition. There he met again with Marshall, who was returning from
his tour of six weeks that took him to Vancouver, Seattle and San Francisco. The two masters
had not seen each other since the end of the tournament of St. Petersburg the previous year.
Both had adventures to tell of their Atlantic travels: Capablanca, about the Cap Vilano fleeing
from the English cruisers; Marshall, of his odyssey after the interruption of the tournament
of Mannheim, and his luck of being a citizen of the United States, a country still neutral in
the conflict. “Good old Uncle Sam’s passport proved a real friend to me throughout my trav-
els,” he said.
When Capablanca heard Marshall’s stories, he understood that his adventures in the
Cap Vilano paled by comparison to the eventful journey of his interlocutor. The boat in
which the American was traveling had almost been blown up by a mine a few miles from the
English coast. Then, Marshall had to travel to New York on the French liner Rochambeau,
packed with refugees, who were in poor hygienic conditions, fearful of the German sub-
marines and with rapidly dwindling reserves of food.
Two days before the beginning of the American National Tournament, the participants
were invited to the film studio Pathé News, where they were filmed while they played and
scored their games, as if it were the first round of the event. This brief cinematographical
news of the competition was then exhibited in numerous cinemas in the United States, in
what must have been one of the first times chess players appeared on the big screen.
The American National Tournament of 1915 showed the Cuban’s enormous chess
strength in a phase of his life when his desire to succeed in each game was powered by the
ambition to be recognized as the number one challenger to the crown. In that tournament,
Capablanca won 12 of his 14 games, and his only two half-point draws, he granted, both
against Marshall, were not grandmaster draws but emotive struggles, as the next battle shows:

9th Round, American National Tournament, New York, 30 April 1915
1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. c4 e6 4. Nc3 Nbd7 5. Bg5 Be7 6. Rc1 0–0 7. e3 b6 8. c×d5
e×d5 9. Bb5 Nowadays the main variation is 9. Qa4 c5 10. Ba6 c×d4 11. e×d4 B×a6 12. Q×a6
Qc8 13. Qb5 Qb7 14. 0–0 a6 15. Qb3 Bd6. 9. … Bb7 10. Qa4 a6 11. B×d7 N×d7 12. B×e7
Q×e7 13. 0–0 c5 14. d×c5 b×c5 15. Rfd1 (see diagram)
15. … d4?! In search of complications. Black could play 15. … Rac8 16. Qf4 Nf6 17. Rc2
rDwDw4kD Rfd8 with an even game. Mikhalchishin–Zheliandinov, Ptuj

DbDn1p0p 1993. 16. e×d4 B×f3 17. g×f3 Qg5+ 18. Kh1 Qf5 19. Qc6 Nf6
pDwDwDwD 20. Ne2 c×d4?! Better is 20. … Nd5 21. d×c5 Q×f3+ 22. Kg1
Dw0pDwDw Qg4+ 23. Ng3 Nf4 with compensation for the pawn. 21. N×d4
QDwDwDwD Qf4 22. Ne2 Better is 22. Qc7! Nd5 23. Q×f4 N×f4 24. Nc6
DwHw)NDw Rfe8 25. Rc4 and White is better. 22. … Qe5 23. Nc3 Qf5
P)wDw)P) 24. Ne2 Qe5 25. Rg1 Losing the advantage; better is
Dw$RDwIw 25. Rc2. 25. … Q×b2 26. Nc3 Nh5 27. Qh6 g6 28. Ne4 Not
After 15. Rfd1 28. Q×h5? Q×c1! winning. 28. … Qg7 29. Qg5 h6 30. Qh4
Rac8 31. Rcd1 Rc6. Draw. ½–½.
In that tournament, Capablanca also played games of theoretical importance, as against

Chajes, an Open Variation of the Ruy López, in which the Cuban used the analysis that he
had made a few months before:
Capablanca–Oscar Chajes [C83]

6th Round, American National Tournament, New York, 25 April 1915
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. c3 Be7 10. Nbd2 Nc5 11. Bc2 d4 12. Ne4 d×c3 Nowadays Black plays 12. … d3
13. N×c5 d×c2 14. Q×d8+ R×d8 15. N×e6 f×e6 16. Be3 Rd5 17. Rac1 N×e5 18. N×e5
R×e5 with an even game. 13. N×c5 B×c5 14. Be4 Qd7 15. b×c3 Or 15. Qc2 Bd5 16. b×c3
Rd8 17. Bg5 with advantage (Capablanca). 15. … Rd8 16. Q×d7+ B×d7 17. Rd1 Ne7 If
17. … 0–0 18. Be3 (also 18. Bg5 Ne7 19. Nd4 with advantage). Or according to Capablanca
18. … B×e3 19. R×d7 R×d7 20. B×c6. (A.N.: But Black can play 20. … Rd3 21. f×e3 R×c3
22. Bd5 c6 23. Be4 c5 24. Kf2 Rd8 with an even game.) 18. Nd4! h6 19. Nb3 Bb6 20. Ba3
h5 21. Rd3 Bg4 Better is 21. … Rh6 22. Nc5 Bc6 23. R×d8+ K×d8 24. Rd1+ Ke8 25. Nb7
B×b7 26. B×b7 Ba5 with an even game. 22. R×d8+ K×d8 23. Nc5 Rh6 24. h3 Bc8
25. Rd1+ Ke8 26. Kf1 g5 27. Nd3 f5? Better is 27. … Be6. This opening up of the position
favors White. 28. e×f6 R×f6 (see diagram)
wDbDkDwD 29. Re1! Be6 30. Bf3! Rh6 If 30. … g4 31. h×g4 h×g4
Dw0whwDw 32. B×g4 B×g4 33. R×e7+ Kd8 34. Rg7 winning (Capablanca);
pgwDw4wD If 30. … h4 31. Bg4 (Capablanca). For example 31. … Kf7
DpDwDw0p 32. B×e7 K×e7 33. Re5 c6 34. B×e6 R×e6 35. R×g5 with advan-
wDwDBDwD tage. 31. B×h5+ Kd7 32. Bg4 Nc6 33. R×e6 R×e6 34. Bc1 win-
Gw)NDwDP ning. The rest is easy. 34. … Kd6 35. B×e6 K×e6 36. B×g5 Ba5
PDwDw)PD 37. Bd2 Kd5 38. h4 Ne5 39. N×e5 K×e5 40. h5 c5 41. g4 Kf6
DwDRDKDw 42. Ke2 c4 43. f4 Kf7 44. Kf3 Bd8 45. Ke4 a5 46. Kd5 Be7
After 28. … R×f6 47. g5 Kg8 48. f5 Black resigned. 1–0.
In the competition, the Cuban faced for the first time Edward Lasker, a distant relative
of world champion Emanuel Lasker, in an official game. Edward was a nice person and a
lively narrator. In addition, everybody already admired his game against the English master
Sir George Alan Thomas in the London tournament of 1912. Edward Lasker became
sufficiently close to Capablanca that when he was invited in 1925 to Cuba to play a match
against Dr. Rosendo Romero, one of the young masters who were beginning to stand out
on the island, Capablanca did him the courtesy of going to the docks to receive him per-
sonally.6 In the game of the second cycle, Capablanca and Edward Lasker engaged them-
selves in a theoretical line of the Open Variation of the Ruy López that had the appearance
of having been previously studied by both players.7
Capablanca–Edward Lasker [C80]

8th Round, American National Tournament,
New York, 29 April 1915
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. 0–0 N×e4 6. d4 e×d4 7. Re1 d5
8. N×d4 Bd6 9. N×c6 B×h2+ 10. Kh1 Qh4 11. R×e4+ d×e4 12. Qd8+ Q×d8 13. N×d8+
K×d8 14. K×h2 Be6 15. Be3 f5 Better is 15. … b5 16. Bb3 Kd7 17. Nc3 B×b3 18. a×b3 Rhe8
19. b4 f5 20. Kg3 Ke6 21. f3 e×f3 22. g×f3 Kf7 23. Bf4 c6 with an even game. 16. Nc3 Ke7
17. g4 g6 18. Kg3 18. g×f5 g×f5 19. Ne2 (Liviu-Dieter Nisipeanu). 18. … h5 19. g×f5 h4+
20. Kh2 g×f5 21. Ne2 b5 21. … Rag8 (Nisipeanu). 22. Bb3 B×b3 23. a×b3 Rhg8 (see dia-
gram)
24. Rd1! Rad8 24. … c6 was the only chance (Edward
Lasker). But White plays 25. Nd4 winning a pawn. 25. R×d8 rDwDwDrD
K×d8 26. Nd4 Kd7 27. N×f5 a5 28. N×h4 a4 29. b×a4 b×a4 Dw0wiwDw
30. Ng2 Rb8 31. Bd4 Rb4 32. Bg7 Rc4 33. Ne3 Rc6 34. c4 pDwDwDwD
Rg6 35. Bc3 Kd6 If 35. … Rd6 36. Kg3 Rd3 37. Bb4 Rb3 38. Ba3 DpDwDpDw
winning. 36. Bd4 Kd7 37. Nd5 Rc6 38. c5 Rg6 39. Be3 c6 wDwDpDw0
40. Nc3 Ke6 41. N×a4 Rg8 42. b4 Ke5 43. Nb6 Rg7 44. Nc4+ DPDwGwDw
Kd5 45. Nd6 Rg8 46. b5 c×b5 47. N×b5 Rg6 48. Nc3+ w)PDN)wI
Quicker was 48. Na7 Rg7 49. c6. 48. … Ke5 49. Ne2 Ra6 $wDwDwDw
50. Nd4 Kd5 51. c6 Ra7 52. Kg3 Rg7+ 53. Kf4 Rf7+ 54. Kg5 After 23. … Rhg8
Rg7+ 55. Kf6 Rh7 56. Kg6 Also winning is 56. Bf4 K×d4 57. c7
Rh8 58. Ke6 Kc5 59. Be5 Ra8 60. Kd7 Kd5 61. Bf6 Ra7 62. Kd8 Ra8+ 63. c8=Q R×c8+
64. K×c8. 56. … Rc7 57. Bf4 Rc8 58. Be3 Rc7 59. Kf5 Rf7+ 60. Kg4 Rg7+ 61. Kh3
Rh7+ 62. Kg2 Rg7+ If 62. … Ra7 63. Kf1 Ra2 64. c7 Ra8 65. Nb5 Kc6 66. c8=Q+
R×c8 67. Na7+. 63. Kf1 Ra7 64. Ke2 Ra2+ Or 64. … Ra4 65. c7 Rc4 66. Nb5 Ke6 67. Bb6
Kd7 68. Na7. 65. Kd1 Kc4 66. c7 Ra8 67. Nf5 Kd3 68. Nd6 Rh8 69. Kc1 Black resigned.
1–0.
After his victory in the tournament, Capablanca departed from New York to Cuba on
May 27, but before he arrived in his country, he visited Tampa, Florida. Since the 19th century,
New York 1915

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
1 Capablanca, José Raúl • ½-½ 1-1 1-1 1-1 1-1 1-1 1-1 13
2 Marshall, Frank James ½-½ • 1-½ 1-1 ½-1 1-1 1-1 1-1 12
3 Chajes, Oscar 0-0 0-½ • 0-1 ½-0 1-0 1-1 1-1 7 30.75
4 Kupchik, Abraham 0-0 0-0 1-0 • 0-1 1-0 1-1 1-1 7 28.00
5 Lasker, Edward 0-0 ½-0 ½-1 1-0 • ½-½ ½-½ ½-1 61⁄2 35.00
6 Bernstein, Jacob 0-0 0-0 0-1 0-1 ½-½ • 1-1 1-½ 61⁄2 27.50
7 Hodges, Albert B. 0-0 0-0 0-0 0-0 ½-½ 0-0 • 0-1 2 8.50
8 Michelsen, Einar 0-0 0-0 0-0 0-0 ½-0 0-½ 1-0 • 2 8.50
that city had held a large Cuban population dedicated to the manufacture of cigars. The
reception he had was as enthusiastic as in Havana: “Capablanca landed in Tampa on May
28 and was met by a large crowd of Latin American people, with a brass band playing as he
stepped off the train. Thousands of people cheered him as he was carried to the automobile.
He was followed by a procession and the brass band to his hotel,” wrote the president of the
local chess club to the editors of the American Chess Bulletin ( July-August 1915). On the
next day, Saturday the 29th, Capablanca offered a simultaneous exhibition against 32 oppo-
nents, conceding 1 draw. On Sunday, after a picnic in his honor, he played against 30 oppo-
nents, and again, only one of them managed to draw him. Capablanca said that never before
had a chess master outside his native land been received in such a way as he had been in
Tampa. From this city he traveled to Havana on June 3 aboard the small mail steamer Olivette,
arriving on the evening of Friday, June 4, 1915, after 20½ months out of his country.
Havana’s music band awaited him at the docks, as well as the chief of police on behalf
of the mayor. Newspapers pointed out that all his family members were there, as well as a
delegation from the Havana Chess Club. When Capablanca landed, he declared, for the
first time, his project to write one or more chess books. When asked about rumors of an
upcoming tournament in Havana, he said that it was impossible: because of the armed con-
flict, many masters could not attend.8 In those days, Emanuel Lasker wrote to the American
Chess Bulletin from Germany saying he had played several exhibition games against army
officers. He also wrote that he was carrying out tasks of “practical” research (there were
rumors that they were intended to design a new battle tank). Some newspapers argued later
that the world champion made unwarranted offensive comments about the poor Anglo-
Saxon morale, or about the Allied Powers, which the United States joined in 1917. This
harmed Lasker for a time after the end of the conflict, particularly in England, where he was
seen for some time as persona non grata.
Meanwhile, Capablanca had to resolve the matter of his professional status in the diplo-
matic service. To this purpose, his personal friendship with President Menocal helped him,
despite the latter’s being overwhelmed by his elder son’s attack of appendicitis. At the time
there was no vacancy in the State Department, so the solution was to give Capablanca an
administrative post of a similar category in another department of the government and move
him to Foreign Affairs on assignment. This took time: first it was necessary to appoint him
to the Department of Agriculture, Commerce and Labor, also by a presidential decree; then,
on September 1, Menocal completed the maneuver through another executive order:
Using the powers given to me by Article 69 of the Organic Law of the Executive Power,
I declare:
That Mr. Raul Capablanca, administrative official of 5th [class], who provides his services in
the Department of Agriculture, Commerce and Labor, move to provide them to the State
Department, while continuing to be bonded to the section of immigration.
Given in Durañona, Marianao, September 1, 1915.
Mario G. Menocal
President.9
Two weeks later, Guillermo Patterson, undersecretary of state, acknowledged receipt

of an official communication from Emilio Núñez, secretary of agriculture, commerce and
labor, informing him of the presidential decree and the decision that Capablanca continue
working in Foreign Affairs:
Havana, September 15, 1915.

Mr. Secretary:
I have the honor to acknowledge to you your attentive communication Nr. 38,088 dated 1st
of the current month, received the 9th, in which you enclosed to me a certified copy of the
decree that the president graciously dictated stipulating that Mr. Raoul [sic] Capablanca, Official
of 5th [administrative class] of that department under your worthy direction, proceed to provide
his services to this department.
Yours respectfully,
By permission of the Secretary.
G Patterson, Undersecretary.10
At the end of October, the new instructions were given to Capablanca:
Havana, October 28, 1915
Mr. Raoul [sic] Capablanca
Dear Sir:
By a resolution of this date, the secretary [of state] has decreed that you should go to New
York and put yourself under the order of the Consul General Inspector of Consulates, Mr. José
Viera Caro, to carry out studies relating to the current in force materials on immigration in the
United States of America.
This I am pleased to inform you for your knowledge and effects.
Yours sincerely,
G. Patterson, Undersecretary.11
Capablanca arrived in New York on November 3, aboard the Saratoga. Although it
seemed an excuse, the commission to study the United States immigration system could
have been a genuine request, because Cuba was then very interested in increasing its popu-
lation. Furthermore, it was also a time in which many U.S. laws were incorporated into the
Cuban constitutional system. The diplomatic documentation published by the Ministry of
Foreign Affairs of Cuba in 2002 regarding Capablanca’s dossier was limited. The reports he
sent to his superiors are unknown so far.
On November 13, Capablanca offered a simultaneous display in the Brooklyn Institute
of Arts and Sciences: 28 victories, 1 loss, 1 draw. On November 19, the day he turned 27, he
faced 17 opponents in the Franklin Chess Club of Philadelphia, with 15 games won, 1 lost
and 1 drawn. From there, his simul tour took him to Washington, D.C., Indianapolis and
Chicago. He gave one exhibit each in the first two cities and three in Chicago, on December
4, December 8 and on an unknown date. The biggest, on December 4, was against 50 oppo-
nents, the third largest until that time in his career. In this display he won 45 games and lost
5. On December 8, he defeated 18 opponents, among them Edward Lasker for the second
time in an exhibition. In the last simul in Chicago he faced 23, with 1 loss and 1 draw. Upon
his return to New York, he showed his talent to the students of nearby Princeton University,
in New Jersey. The results of his November and December tour, including the simul on
November 13 in Brooklyn, were: 209 wins, 8 losses and 5 draws, according to the American
Chess Bulletin, December 1915, page 236.
Capablanca went to Havana once again for Christmas and returned to New York in
the first week of 1916. On January 11 he gave a simultaneous exhibition against 33 opponents,
with the result of 30 victories, 1 defeat and 2 draws. His next tournament started on January
18 in memory of Professor Isaac Leopold Rice, who had died on November 2, 1915. This
time, the competition would have the presence of the Serbian master Boris Kostić.
1916 New York Rice Memorial Preliminary

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14
1 Capablanca, José • 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 12
2 Janowski, Dawid R. 0 • 1 0 ½ 1 ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 ½ ½ 81⁄2 48.50
3 Kostić, Boris ½ 0 • 1 ½ 1 0 0 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 81⁄2 47.50
4 Kupchik, Abraham 0 1 0 • 0 1 0 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 81⁄2 44.50
5 Chajes, Oscar 0 ½ ½ 1 • ½ 1 ½ 0 0 1 1 1 1 8
6 Rosenthal, Jacob ½ 0 0 0 ½ • 1 ½ 1 1 1 ½ ½ 1 71⁄2
7 Fox, Albert W. 0 ½ 1 1 0 0 • 1 0 ½ 1 1 0 1 7 41.25
8 Bernstein, Jacob 0 ½ 1 0 ½ ½ 0 • ½ 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 7 38.25
9 Schroeder, A. 0 0 0 0 1 0 1 ½ • 0 1 ½ 1 ½ 51⁄2
10 Hodges, Albert 0 0 0 0 1 0 ½ 0 1 • ½ 0 1 1 5 24.50
11 Black, Roy T. 0 0 ½ ½ 0 0 0 ½ 0 ½ • 1 1 1 5 23.00
12 Tennenwurzel, E. 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ 1 0 • ½ 1 31⁄2
13 Perkins, C.F. 0 ½ 0 0 0 ½ 1 0 0 0 0 ½ • ½ 3
14 Banks, Newell 0 ½ 0 0 0 0 0 ½ ½ 0 0 0 ½ • 2
The tournament, which had the participation of Janowski but not of Marshall, was
played along the guidelines of St. Petersburg 1914, with a preliminary group of 14. The
Cuban won this stage with 12 points out of 13 possible, and the only ones who managed to
draw him were Kostić and Jacob Carl Rosenthal, a Polish-Dutchman who subsequently
immigrated to the United States, where he became a naturalized citizen. In the final stage,
Capablanca was defeated by Oscar Chajes, but he still finished in first place with 14 points,
3 more than Janowski, who finished second with 11. Capablanca won the “Second Brilliancy
Prize” in his game against Albert Schroeder, who represented the Brooklyn Chess Club. The
game served the Cuban as an example for a lecture that he offered on February 12 in the
Ansonia Hotel, as preamble to a simultaneous series against 17 rivals, all of whom he defeated.
Capablanca–Alfred Schroeder [D63]

10th Round, Preliminary, Rice Memorial Tournament,
1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 e6 3. c4 Nf6 4. Nc3 Nbd7 5. Bg5 Be7 6. e3 0–0 7. Rc1 a6 8. Qc2
Today 8. c5 or 8. c×d5 or 8. c5 are preferred. 8. … Re8 9. Bd3 d×c4 10. B×c4 b5 11. Bd3
Bb7 12. a4 Better is 12. B×f6 N×f6 13. Ne4 h6 14. N×f6+ B×f6 15. 0–0 Rc8 16. Bh7+ Kh8
17. Be4 with a small advantage for White. 12. … b4 Black could play 12. … c5! 13. B×f6
N×f6 14. d×c5 Qa5 15. Nd4 Rec8 16. a×b5 a×b5 17. 0–0 B×c5 with an even game. 13. B×f6!
N×f6 14. Ne4 N×e4 15. B×e4 B×e4 16. Q×e4 c5 17. d×c5 Qa5 18. b3 B×c5 19. Ng5 h6
Better is 19. … g6 20. Qf4 Rf8 21. Qh4 h5 22. Ne4 Rfc8 23. 0–
rDwDriwD 0 Bf8 24. Rcd1 Bg7 25. Rd7 Rd8 26. Rfd1 R×d7 27. R×d7 Qe5
DwDwDp0Q with an even game. 20. Qh7+ Kf8 (see diagram)
pDwDpDw0 21. Qh8+ Better is 21. Ne4! (Khalifman) For example: 21. …
1wgwDwHw Bb6 22. Nd6 Red8 (if 22. … Reb8 23. Nc8 R×c8 24. Qh8+
P0wDwDwD Qe7 25. R×c8 R×c8 26. Q×c8 winning) 23. 0–0 Qd5 24. Nc8!
DPDw)wDw Ra×c8 25. R×c8 Q×b3 26. Qh8+ Ke7 27. R×d8 B×d8 28. Q×g7
wDwDw)P) winning. 21. … Ke7 22. Q×g7 h×g5 23. Q×g5+ Kd6 24. Ke2
Dw$wIwDR Rac8? A better defense is 24. … Kc6 25. Qf4 f5 26. Rhd1 Rad8
After 20. … Kf8 27. R×d8 Q×d8 28. Q×b4 Qb6 29. Qc3 a5 30. Qe5 Qa6+
rt
1916 New York Rice Memorial Final o -pa l
1 2 3 4 5 Total Tw Tota
1 Capablanca, José R. • 1 0 ½ ½ 2 14
2 Janowski, Dawid 0 • 1 ½ 1 21⁄2 11
3 Chajes, Oscar 1 0 • 1 ½ 21⁄2 101⁄2
4 Kostić, Boris ½ ½ 0 • ½ 11⁄2 10
5 Kupchik, Abraham ½ 0 ½ ½ • 11⁄2 10
31. Kf3 Qa7 32. h3 Qe7. 25. Rc4 Kc6 If 25. … Rc6 26. Rd1+ Kc7 27. Qe5+ Kb6 28. Rd7
Rf8 29. h4 winning. 26. Rhc1 Kb6 27. h4 f5 Capablanca said he received the second brillancy
prize by showing the committee a variation that never happened in the game: 27. … Rc7
28. h5 Rec8 29. h6 Bd6 30. Q×a5+ K×a5 31. R×c7 R×c7 32. R×c7 B×c7 33. f4 Bd8 34. g4
Bf6 35. g5 Bh8 36. e4 Kb6 37. f5 e×f5 38. e×f5 Kc5 39. g6 f×g6 40. f×g6 winning. 28. Qg7
Re7 29. Qe5 Rc6 If 29. … Rec7 30. Q×e6+ Rc6 31. Q×f5 winning. 30. R×c5! Black resigned.
If 30. … R×c5 31. Qd6+ winning. 1–0.
At that time Capablanca received a challenge from Marshall “to decide the title of Pan
American Champion.” The Cuban replied that this matter had been resolved in the match
they had played in 1909 and he already held the title. Marshall had to redo the text of his
challenge, saying in the new version:
Mr. Jose R. Capablanca,
Pan-American Chess Champion, New York:
Sir:
Advised that you will defend your title against me, I hereby challenge you for the title upon
such conditions of match play, as shall be mutually agreeable, and thank you for the courtesy of
your prompt acceptance.
Yours truly
Frank J. Marshall
United States Chess Champion [American Chess Bulletin, April 1916, front page].
On February 28, Capablanca responded with the same conditions of the rules for the
chess world championships he had suggested to the participating masters in St. Petersburg.
However, he added: “As the Pan-American Chess Championship is not of the same impor-
tance, I will reduce the amount of the purse and the side bet to one-half, making it therefore
$2,500 respectively.” He wrote that if all the conditions were met, the match would begin
one year from his approval, and if he did not play, he would lose his status as monarch of
North, Central and South American, a title that was his creation in 1909. To demonstrate
his willingness to play the match, Capablanca deposited the sum of $500 in the account
of Felix E. Kahn, treasurer of the Manhattan Chess Club, and urged Marshall to do the
same. But the American decided not to risk the deposit money without being sure to
receive financial backing from any promoter, so the match was never played. When the Amer-
ican Chess Bulletin published the correspondence between Capablanca and Marshall in its
issue of April 1916, it gave the news of another challenge for the Pan-American Champi-
onship, this time from Janowski. But because of the lack of support, it was not mentioned
further.
At that time, Marshall was doing very well in his simultaneous exhibitions. On March
21, he had established a world record when he played against 105 boards at the Washington
Press Club. Even though Capablanca was 11 years and three months younger than the American,
the Cuban did not try to compete against him for the larger number of boards in a simul-
taneous display. At least, not then. The greatest efforts that Capablanca made at that time,
in addition to his short duration record in Brooklyn, were against 51 boards in Chicago, on
March 20, 1915; against 50 in that same city, on December 4 of the same year; and against
52 in Pittsburgh on May 3, where only one opponent managed to draw. It was in Pittsburgh,
on May 3, 1916, that Capablanca, in a conversation with Howard L. Dolde, chess editor of
the newspaper Gazette-Times, made his boldest statements on his innate ability for the game.
• “I know more about chess than any living person.”
• “I could play 30 of the best players of the United States at one time and not lose a game.”
• “When I visit the chess centers the players are astonished, and they no longer are of the
same opinions of chess masters.”
Dolde did not understand the last assertion of the Cuban very well, so he asked him
to explain it in greater detail. Capablanca told him: “I know at sight what a position contains.
What could happen? What is going to happen? You figure it out. I know it.”12 For Dolde it
was “an excellent opportunity for studying the character of this great player,” and his unlim-
ited faith in himself. Such was the impression that these statements left, that half a century
later, the Yugoslavian Grandmaster Svetozar Gligorić wrote about the world champion in
those moments, Anatoly Karpov: “He, as Capablanca, knows; the others figure it out.”
Before the visit to Pittsburgh in May, Capablanca finally traveled to Oregon and Cali-
fornia on his seventh tour of the United States. On this occasion he was presented in Col-
orado Springs, Salt Lake City, Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, San Diego, San Antonio,
Austin and Dallas. When he returned, he again visited New Orleans and Pittsburgh.13 The
visit to California was memorable. Many local fans who were waiting at the train station of
Oakland accompanied him on the ferry to cross the Bay and to his hotel in San Francisco.
In that city, he won 49 of 52 games without losing any. The exhibitions were at the famous
chess club the Mechanics’ Institute, the oldest in the United States, since its first meeting
was held on December 11, 1854.
In fast games at a rate of 10 seconds per move, the Cuban was invincible yet again, win-
ning all 14 that he played. A chronicle of the event sent to the magazine American Chess
Bulletin (May–June 1916, page 200) noted:
In the evening Capablanca showed his skill at ten-second chess, playing two games apiece with
the following and winning every game: Messrs Starmer, Fink, W. Smith, De Long, Professor
Ryder, Hallwegen and Gruer. Thus he played fourteen games in forty-five minutes, an average of
about one game every three minutes. This was probably Capablanca’s most impressive exhibi-
tion, and the one providing the liveliest entertainment for the spectators. It is worth mentioning
that the master never faltered, never was at a loss for plausible continuation and never, so far as
could be noticed, made a move solely because of the call of time. His play was apparently the
result of a plan and possessed coherence and objectivity.
When the Cuban returned to New York, he was the main attraction of the winter
season of the Manhattan Chess Club, which opened on October 26 with a simultaneous
display against 28 opponents, and a result of 24 victories, 1 loss and 3 draws. He gave three
lectures on November 3, 16 and 24, and on each occasion they were followed by sessions of
questions from the audience. Before returning to Cuba for Christmas, Capablanca offered
a simultaneous exhibition in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, where the only one who managed
to draw him in 33 games was a young Mexican identified with the name of R. Flores. (Not
the child prodigy Rodrigo Flores, future champion of Chile, who was then only three years
old.) On November 10, the Cuban offered a new simultaneous display against 22 opponents
in Philadelphia, where he lost 1 game and drew another. The next day, back in New York,
he won a tournament of blitz games.
Meanwhile, in Cuba there were things happening that are hard to understand, except by
considering that Capablanca’s position in New York, although of a lesser rank, was highly cov-
eted. It is not unreasonable to assume that many intrigues were brewing to demote him from
his post and satisfy the ambitions of other people with political connections. For example, on
October 9, Capablanca received a cablegram from Havana that said: “[Because] inspector
general must stay some time in this [city, i.e., Havana] doing special work and requiring your
services here, proceed immediately to embark.” Signed by Pablo Desvernine, secretary of
state.14 However, eight days later, the same Desvernine sent him another cable with different
instructions: “Suspend embark. General Consul informed [in New York] that you will serve
in that office.”15
Capablanca embarked on December 16 in the Saratoga from New York for his Christmas
vacation, arriving in Havana four days later. The year of 1917 was similar to 1907, in the sense
that Capablanca disappeared from the pages of the world newspapers and almost nothing was
known about him during the first months of the year, except that he assumed the presidency
of the Havana Chess Club. At least on this occasion there was a compelling reason: the world’s
attention was focused on the war in Europe. When he arrived in Havana on December 20, the
country was in a potential state of internal war. In November, Menocal had been reelected
president, not without having been accused of a massive fraud by the opposition. The main
figure of the Liberals, former president José Miguel Gómez, was calling his followers to arms.
American correspondents sent to cover the events in Cuba, such as H.L. Mencken, recounted
the months of violence as if they were a farce, even though the clash left more than 200 dead.16
In his chronicles about Cuba, later titled Gore in the Caribbees, Mencken described the
events through a fictitious police officer who was his confidant, so his readers in the United
States considered his stories fully reliable. In reality, there was not much difference between
what Mencken was sending to his newspaper, the Baltimore Sun, and what was actually hap-
pening on the island. In one of these reports, the unknown policeman “explained to him” how
the things stood: “The issues in the revolution,” he said, tackling the business in hand at once,
are simple. Menocal, who calls himself a Conservative, is president, and José Miguel Gómez,
who used to be president and calls himself a Liberal, wants to make a come-back. That is the
whole story. José Miguel says that when Menocal was reelected last year the so-called Liberals
were chased away from the so-called polls by the so-called army. On the other hand, Menocal
says that José Miguel is a porch-climber and ought to be chased out of the island. Both are right
[as reprinted in H.L. Mencken’s autobiography, Volume 3, Heathen Days, Johns Hopkins Univer-
sity Press, 2006, pages 163–164].
The U.S. government supported Menocal, even with military actions, weapons and
ammunition. When American troops occupied the city of Santiago de Cuba, it was to deliver
it to the soldiers loyal to the president. Gómez’s great mistake was thinking that his rebellious
actions would provoke the intervention of the United States, the deposition of Menocal and
a call for general elections, which supposedly would return him to power. But he chose a
wrong political moment, because the United States had declared war on Germany and
urgently required Cuban sugar, so the mood in Washington was not in favor of populist
uprisings on the island. To make matters worse, Gómez launched calls to burn the sugar
cane plantations, which caused alarm at the White House and gave rise to Menocal’s accu-
sations that he was a Kaiser ally. Menocal’s forces finally captured Gómez, but he was par-
doned shortly afterwards, and went into exile in the United States.
As any other citizen or state official, Capablanca should have followed these develop-
ments with concern, especially since he owed favors to both Gómez and Menocal. At least
he had the good news that Cosme de la Torriente had returned to the office of secretary of
state instead of Desvarnine, who had tried so urgently to pull him out of New York. Accord-
ing to his account in My Chess Career, Capablanca had been ready to return to the United
States since the early days of June 1917.17 But suddenly he got sick: “I was very ill and had to
stay in Havana the rest of that year, and part of the next.”
A significant fact in Capablanca’s long stay in Havana, from December 1916 to the
spring of 1918, was the appearance of a 14-year-old girl with a great talent for chess, María
Teresa Mora. Capablanca offered to give her lessons, as he expressed in My Chess Career:
There was in Havana a young girl of from twelve to fourteen years of age who interested me a
great deal. Not only was she intelligent and modest in every respect, but what is more to the
point, she played chess quite well.… I offered to give her a few lessons before I sailed. My offer
was accepted, and I decided to teach her something of the openings and the middle game, along
general principles and in accordance with certain theories which I had had in my mind for some
time, but which I had never expounded to anybody.…18
The lessons given by Capablanca to Miss Mora in 1918 helped him to get his chess
thoughts in order. “Thus it happened that I actually learned more myself than my pupil…”
(My Chess Career). It was one of the few times he acknowledged having devoted time to the
study of openings theory. It is possible that on this occasion he had referred to a systematic
and deep study, not to the occasional review of certain variants. But it is necessary to empha-
size that My Chess Career was published for the first time in 1920, before his encounters
against Lasker in 1921 and Alekhine in 1927, occasions in which it is natural to suppose that
he returned to the study of the openings.
During his long stay of 18 months in Cuba, Capablanca offered two simultaneous dis-
plays: the first in Havana against an unidentified number of boards; the other in Cienfuegos
against 20 opponents. In one of the boards four ladies of the city played in consultation.
Capablanca had the courtesy of offering a draw. As long as the result would not affect other
goals, he always tried to attract women to chess, convinced that to broaden the social base
of the game, their presence was essential. This exhibition took place on March 15, and the
next day a dance was organized in his honor, in which he played a blindfold game at the
same time he engaged in conversation with some young women. In Morphy’s old style, he
socialized while he played against his opponents.
On March 11, Capablanca sent a letter to Helms, informing him of his return to New
York. This time he made clear that he did not plan to travel too much and that any club
interested in his exhibitions would also have to pay his fare. Before leaving Cuba on April
27 aboard the steamship Mexico, Capablanca resigned the presidency of the Havana Chess
Club. On May 8, back in New York, the Cuban faced 38 opponents at the Manhattan Chess
Club, beating 35 and drawing with the remaining 3. On May 11, he won a blitz tournament
above Janowski. But he could not repeat his victory in a similar tournament in July, when
he was defeated by the Polish-French master.19
The First World War limited to a minimum the chess activity in the United States, and
of course much more so in Europe. Chess publications and columns highlighted now the
names of those who had been called to duty and, above all, those who fell in combat, such
as Frank P. Beynon, member of the main clubs in New York; two sons of Tarrasch; and a
grandson of Robert J. Buckley. Or those who, like Blackburne, were injured as a result of an
air attack on London. About Emanuel Lasker, whose columns in the Saturday Evening Post
were canceled, there was mention of his simultaneous exhibitions in Hungary, and his match
against Tarrasch, in 1915. From Vienna and Berlin information arrived about two tourna-
ments of reduced participation, both won by Vidmar. In many cases the prize consisted of
extra coupons of the rationing quota. The war made a dent in the psychological health of
Rubinstein, who lost six games in the Berlin 1918, a competition won by Vidmar, that also
saw the participation of Mieses and Schlechter. The latter died of pneumonia and starvation
on December 27, 1918, a month after the conflict ended, probably as a result of the shortages
he suffered during the conflagration.
Capablanca informed his readers of Alekhine’s doings after receiving a letter from the
Russian. In an article published in the Cuban weekly Bohemia, on June 10, 1917 (page 13),
the Cuban wrote: “Among them, Alechin, who escaped through I do not know which skill
[from Germany] and reached his hometown, Moscow, safely. From there, he wrote to me with
the news that twice he had been threatened with death, and was harshly abused by the Ger-
mans during his captivity.”
At the end of September, Capablanca offered two simultaneous sessions, the first one
in the Manhattan Chess Club against 22 opponents, with a perfect score. The other was in
Philadelphia against 30 players, of whom two managed to draw. That was his training for a
tournament suddenly summoned by Arístides Martínez, who called it the “Manhattan Chess
Club International Master Tournament,” because besides the Cuban, Janowski, Kostić and
the Canadian John Morrison, then two-time champion of his country, would also participate.
The first round of the tournament was played with a day of delay, on October 23, to give
time to some of the participants to arrive in New York. Marshall, for example, though he
played, complained that his invitation came very late. That afternoon (the rounds began at
2:30 p.m.) the American employed an interesting pawn sacrifice with the Black pieces against
a Ruy Lopez of Capablanca, which has come to be known as “The Marshall Attack.” Capa-
blanca explained in My Chess Career (pages 178–179):
I had not played a single serious game of chess for nearly two years. In this condition I was to
meet successfully on the very first day what might be called the supreme test of mastership in
chess. I with the White Pieces had Marshall for an opponent, and to my surprise he allowed me
to play a Ruy Lopez, something which he had not done for some ten years, since our historic
match. The reason was that he had found and prepared a variation for me, and had kept it for
two years, awaiting the opportunity of playing it in a tournament against me.
Curiously, however, as Edward Winter stressed (Kings, Commoners and Knaves, 1999,
page 151), this pawn sacrifice was employed for the first time by four Cuban players in con-
sultation (Conill, Ostolaza, López and Herrera) against the German master Carl Walbrodt,
in a game played in Havana on February 18 or 19, 1893. According to Winter, the game was
published on pages 22–23 of the February 1893 issue of The Chess World, which took it
from the New York newspaper The Sun. It also was published by the German magazine
Deutches Wochenschach in its issue of April 2, 1893. In addition, the same Marshall had played
a game in 1917 (apparently informal) against Walter Frère in which he had already employed
his famous gambit that begins with 8. … d5.

1st Round, Manhattan Chess Club Championship,
New York, 23 October 1918
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. 0–0 Be7 6. Re1 b5 7. Bb3 0–0 8. c3 d5
9. e×d5 N×d5 10. N×e5 N×e5 11. R×e5 Nf6 Nowadays the main line begins with 11. …
c6. 12. Re1 Played today is 12. d4 Bd6 13. Re1 Ng4 14. h3 Qh4 15. Qf3. 12. … Bd6 13. h3
Ng4 14. Qf3 If 14. h×g4 Qh4 15. Qf3 (15. g3 B×g3 16. f×g3 Q×g3+ 17. Kf1 B×g4 winning)
15. … Bh2+ 16. Kf1 B×g4 17. Qe4 Bf4 18. g3 Qh2 19. B×f7+ K×f7 20. Qd5+ Kg6 21. Re6+
B×e6 22. Q×e6+ Kh5 23. Qd5+ Bg5 24. Qg2 R×f2+ 25. Q×f2 Qh1+ 26. Ke2 Re8+ winning
(Tal). 14. … Qh4 15. d4 If 15. h×g4 Bh2+ 16. Kf1 B×g4 17. Qe4 Bf4 18. g3 Qh2 19. Re3
Rae8 20. Qd5 B×g3 21. R×g3 Be2+ 22. Ke1 Bf3+ and mate in three moves. 15. … N×f2 If
15. … h5 (Shamkovich) 16. Re2! Nf6 17. Re5 B×e5 18. d×e5 Ne4 19. Bd5 Ng5 20. Qe3
N×h3+ 21. g×h3 and White is winning (see diagram)
16. Re2 If 16. Bd2 B×h3 17. g×h3 N×h3+ 18. Kf1 Ng5
rDbDw4kD 19. B×g5 Q×g5 20. Na3 c5 21. Rad1 “with an obvious advantage
Dw0wDp0p to White” (Kasparov). But after 21. … c4 22. Bc2 Rae8 “Black has
pDwgwDwD decent compensation for the piece” (Vladimir Tukmakov, Modern
DpDwDwDw Chess Preparation, New in Chess, 2012); if 16. Q×f2 Bh2+ 17. Kf1
wDw)wDw1 Bg3 18. Qd2! (but not 18. Qe2 B×h3 19. g×h3 Rae8 “and White
DB)wDQDP is in trouble”—Kasparov) 18. … B×h3 19. g×h3 Q×h3+ 20. Qg2
P)wDwhPD Qf5+ 21. Kg1 B×e1 22. Nd2 with “A totally unclear position”
$NGw$wIw
(Tukmakov). 16. … Bg4 Better is 16. … Ng4 17. g3 Q×h3
After 15. … N×f2 18. Q×a8 B×g3 19. Qg2 Qh4 20. Nd2 “and there is everything
to play for” (Kasparov). 17. h×g4 If 17. Q×f2 Bg3 18. Qf1 B×e2
19. Q×e2 Rae8. 17. … Bh2+ If 17. … N×g4 18. Bf4. 18. Kf1 Bg3 If 18. … Nh1 19. Re3 winning.
19. R×f2 Qh1+ 20. Ke2 B×f2 If 20. … Q×c1 21. B×f7+ Kh8 22. Q×g3 Q×b2+ 23. Nd2
Q×a1 24. Rf1 Qb2 25. Qd3 Rae8+ 26. B×e8 R×e8+ 27. Kf3 winning. 21. Bd2 Bh4 22. Qh3
Rae8+ 23. Kd3 Qf1+ 24. Kc2 Bf2 25. Qf3 Qg1 If 25. … Re2 26. a4 Qe1 27. a×b5 R×d2+
(27. … Be3 28. Q×e3) 28. N×d2 Q×a1 29. Q×f2 a×b5 30. Nf3 winning (Kasparov). 26. Bd5
c5 27. d×c5 B×c5 28. b4 Bd6 29. a4 a5 30. a×b5 a×b4 31. Ra6 b×c3 32. N×c3 Bb4 33. b6
B×c3 34. B×c3 h6 If 34. … Re3 35. Q×f7+ winning. 35. b7 Re3 36. B×f7+ Black resigned.
If 36. … R×f7 (36. … Kh7 37. Qf5+ Kh8 38. R×h6 mate) 37. b8=Q+ Kh7 38. R×h6+ K×h6
39. Qh8+ Kg6 40. Qh5 mate. 1–0.
After the tournament Capablanca traveled to Hartford, Connecticut, where he beat his
29 rivals in a simultaneous display; and then to Philadelphia, where he played against 16, and
1918 New York Manhattan CC

1 2 3 4 5 6 7
1 Capablanca, José R. • ½-½ 1-1 1-1 1-1 ½-1 1-1 101⁄2
2 Kostić, Boris ½-½ • ½-1 ½-1 ½-1 ½-1 1-1 9
3 Marshall, Frank James 0-0 ½-0 • 1-0 ½-1 1-1 1-1 7
4 Chajes, Oscar 0-0 ½-0 0-1 • 1-0 1-1 1-½ 6
5 Janowski, Dawid M. 0-0 ½-0 ½-0 0-1 • 0-1 1-0 4
6 Black, Roy T. ½-0 ½-0 0-0 0-0 1-0 • ½-1 31⁄2
7 Morrison, John S. 0-0 0-0 0-0 0-½ 0-1 ½-0 • 2
Arístides Martínez, standing, watches the game between Oscar Chajes and Capablanca, New
York, 1918. When Capablanca arrived in New York, August 1904, his access to the Manhattan
Chess Club was facilitated by the president of the institution, Martínez, also from Cuba, who
two years before, in 1902, donated a silver cup for the championship of Cuba in the belief that
the young Capablanca would win the tournament. He was president of the Club for 20 years.
conceded 2 draws. According to the Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev, Capablanca

invited him to the Metropolitan Museum of New York and several parties in apartments
of the city’s high society around that time. It was on one of those occasions that Capa-
blanca introduced Eleonora Young to him, with whom, according to Prokofiev, the Cuban
had lived for six years. Young made a great impression on the Russian musician: “She is
a most refined young woman, slender, pale, charming and very American.”20 On Septem-
ber 12, despite his status as a Cuban diplomat, Capablanca had to register in the military
service of the United States, at a time when the war seemed very close to its end. His
brother Ramiro, then resident in New York, also had to meet the same requirement. 21
The story that Capablanca returned to Cuba in December 1917 to prevent recruitment
is totally unfounded, since he was not even in the United States in December. When
Washington declared war on Germany in April 1917, Capablanca was ill, in Cuba.
The hostilities of the First World War ended with the Armistice of November 11, 1918,
and the following December 15, the Serbian Kostić asked the Cuban grandmaster what his
conditions would be to play a match between them.
José Raúl with a beautiful young woman in an unidentified location. Once the legend of Capa-
blanca as a new “Don Juan,” “Valentino” or “Latin Lover,” or the way Alekhine described him,
“the darling of the ladies,” began to grow, there was no way to stop it (author’s collection).
Dear Mr. Capablanca:

I have the honor to formally challenge you to a match. Kindly let me know at your earliest
convenience what your conditions will be.
Very sincerely yours,
Boris Kostić.
To Capablanca, the challenge could have not arrived at a better time, because chess
activities were at a standstill despite the end of hostilities. Furthermore, the price of sugar
on the world market seemed to climb by the hour, which was great news for the Cuban mas-
ter, as many of his acquaintances in Cuba were figures involved in the market of that product.
Since there was also talk of a possible match between Edward Lasker and Kostić in Chicago,
Capablanca considered that it was better to hurry up, and he responded to the Serbian in
less than 24 hours. All the letters were published in the American Chess Bulletin, January
1919 (page 36).
New York, December 16, 1918.
Dear Mr. Kostić:
Your challenge dated December 15, duly received. I will be glad to play you a match under the
same conditions I stipulated to Mr. Marshall when he challenged me a couple of years ago.
Those conditions you will find in the American Chess Bulletin for April 1916. You will notice
that the conditions call for a purse no less than $2,500 and give me the right besides of demand-
ing a side bet of $1,000.
J.R. Capablanca.
Kostić answered:
New York, December 17, 1918.
Dear Mr. Capablanca:
I received your letter of December 16, naming your conditions which are acceptable to me. I
will immediately bend my efforts to obtain the sum required and as soon as I obtain proper
assurance will be ready to post my forfeit to show my readiness to meet the stipulated conditions.
Boris Kostić.
In Havana, living once again a period of abundance that brought to mind the first half
of the 19th century, the idea of a match against Kostić immediately found great support.
One of the first to back it was President Menocal, who contributed 500 pesos. 22
Although both masters had been in the Cuban capital since Sunday, March 16, where
they arrived together aboard the steamer Mexico, the match began in Havana on Tuesday, March
25, 1919, at the Union Club, after a speech by the mayor Freyre de Andrade. The delay was due
to Kostić’s claim of not being in good health since his arrival, as well as his concern with the
high costs of the hotel and the difference in climate and food. He also mentioned the news
arriving from Hungary, where there had been a major revolt. We must remember that Kostić
was born in the Hungarian city of Versecz, which then belonged to Austria-Hungary. (In the
21st century the city is called Vrsac and belongs to Serbia.) Kostić maintained an even game
in the first encounter, although he ultimately lost it. But after being defeated in the second
game, he was ready for the final collapse. This occurred after the following third game of
the match:
Capablanca–Boris Kostić [C42]

Match, 3rd Game, Havana, 29 March 1919
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. N×e5 d6 4. Nf3 N×e4 5. d4 d5 6. Bd3 Be7 7. 0–0 Nc6 8. Re1
Preferred nowadays is 8. c4 Nb4 9. Be2 0–0 10. Nc3 Bf5 11. a3 N×c3 12. b×c3 Nc6 13. c×d5
Q×d5. 8. … Bg4 9. c3 f5 10. Nbd2 0–0 11. Qb3 Kh8 12. Nf1?! Better is 12. h3 Bh5 13. Q×b7
Rf6 14. Qb3 Rg6 15. Be2 Bd6 16. Qc2. 12. … Qd7 Better is 12. … B×f3 13. g×f3 Ng5 (or
13. … N×f2 14. K×f2 Bh4+ 15. Ng3 f4 16. B×f4 R×f4 17. Q×b7 Rf6 18. Qb3 Qd6 and Black
has compensation for the pawn) 14. B×g5 B×g5 15. Q×b7 Ne7 and Black has compensation
for the pawn (Botvinnik). 13. N3d2? Better is 13. Q×b7 Rab8 14. Qa6 Bd6 15. Ng3 with a
small advantage. 13. … N×d2? Better is 13. … Bh4! with advantage. 14. B×d2 f4 15. f3! Bf5
16. B×f5 R×f5 (see diagram)
17. Q×b7! Now White can take the pawn safely. 17. … Rg8
rDwDwDwi If 17. … Rb8 18. R×e7! winning. 18. Qb5 Bh4 If 18. … Rf6
0p0qgw0p 19. Qd3 Re8 20. Re2 and White is better. 19. Re2 h5 If 19. …
wDnDwDwD Rb8 20. Qd3 R×b2? 21. Q×f5! winning. 20. Qd3 Be7 21. Rae1
DwDpDrDw Bd6 22. b3 Nd8 23. c4 c5 24. d×c5 B×c5+ 25. Kh1 Nc6
wDw)w0wD 26. c×d5 R×d5 27. Qc4 Winning another pawn. The rest is easy.
DQ)wDPDw 27. … Rf8 If 27. … g5 28. Re6 winning. 28. B×f4 Bb4 29. Re8!
P)wGwDP)
$wDw$NIw Rd4 If 29. … R×e8 30. R×e8+ Q×e8 31. Q×d5 winning.
30. R×f8+ B×f8 31. Qe6 Q×e6 32. R×e6 Rd1 33. Kg1 Bc5+
After 16. … R×f5 34. Be3 B×e3+ 35. R×e3 Ra1 36. Re6 Nb4 If 36. … Nd4 37. Re4
Nc2 38. a4 Rb1 39. Kf2 R×b3 40. Ng3 g6 41. Re8+ Kg7 42. Re7+
Kf6 43. R×a7 winning. 37. Re5 g6 If 37. … R×a2 38. R×h5+ Kg8 39. Rh4 Nd3 40. Rd4 Nc5
41. b4 Ne6 42. Re4 Kf7 43. Ne3 winning. 38. Re8+ Kg7 39. Re7+ Kf6 40. R×a7 R×a2
41. R×a2 N×a2 42. Kf2 Ke5 43. Ke3 Kd5 44. Kf4 Ke6 45. Kg5 Kf7 46. Nd2 Nb4 47. Nc4
Nd3 48. b4 Black resigned. 1–0.
The fifth and final game lasted just 15 moves:
Capablanca–Boris Kostić [C10]

Match, 5th Game, Havana, 4 April 1919
rDw1w4kD 1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 d×e4 5. N×e4 Nbd7
0b0ngp0w 6. Nf3 Be7 7. N×f6+ N×f6 Preferred nowadays is 7. … B×f6.
w0wDpDw0 8. Bd3 b6 9. 0–0 Bb7 10. Qe2 0–0 11. Rad1 h6 12. Bf4 Qd5?!
DwDwHwDw Better is 12. … Bd6 13. Ne5 Qe7. 13. c4 Qd8 If 13. … Qa5
wDP)wGwD 14. B×c7 B×f3 15. Q×f3 Q×a2 16. d5 with a winning position.
DwDwDwDw 14. Ne5 Nd7 15. Bb1 (see diagram)
P)wDQ)P) Black resigned. If 15. … Nf6 (if 15. … N×e5 16. d×e5 Qc8
DBDRDRIw 17. Qd3 f5 18. e×f6 B×f6 19. Qh7+ Kf7 20. B×h6 winning )
After 15. Bb1 16. Qe3 Bd6 17. B×h6 winning. 1–0.
Is it chess or a sham battle? wondered an analyst; then: It is Chess 100 percent and not
a mediocre substitute, replied the same commentator to himself. Capablanca subsequently
considered that never in his career had he reached a point of such understanding of the game
as in the moments in which, at 30 years old, he played this match against Kostić. For some
unknown reason Capablanca’s relations with the Serbian master deteriorated in such a way
that when the Cuban became world champion, he demanded Kostić not be invited, setting
a precedent which was very harmful in the years following his defeat by Alekhine in Buenos
Aires, 1927.23
Apparently, a few of Kostić’s statements after the match also contributed to this dis-
tancing: “Kostich states that he left New York without genuine ambition for the match, feel-
ing that the odds were all against him, when he needs every possible advantage against an
opponent of the Cuban’s caliber. But he had given his word and could not go back on it”
(American Chess Bulletin, May-June 1919, page 137).
After his decisive 5–0 victory over Kostić, Capablanca departed to New York on June 4
aboard the ship Mexico, the same one that took him to Havana in March. This time he was
entrusted to represent Cuba at various official celebrations in England for the triumph of the
Allied Powers over Germany in the First World War. As a part of these festivities, a tourna-
ment called “Victory Congress” would be held in Hastings. Capablanca explained in the last
chapter of My Chess Career: “Although the prizes and inducements offered were practically of
no account, I felt that, as the leading player of the Allied and Neutral countries, I was morally
obliged to play.”24 He arrived in Southampton, England, on August 2, aboard the Aquitania.
The British press mentioned that it was the rebirth of chess in the kingdom after the stormy
years of war. Many referred to the Cuban as “World Champion,” as if Lasker had disappeared
in the mist of the battles. It should be mentioned that since the beginning of hostilities in 1914,
both Lasker and Tarrasch were dispossessed of their honorary memberships in the London
Chess Club, something awarded to Capablanca in 1918. Before the start of the competition
there were two tournaments of blitz games, at 10 seconds per move, which Capablanca won.25
Capablanca–Reginald P. Michell [C49]

Blitz Game, Hastings, 9 August 1919
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. Nc3 Bb4 5. 0–0 0–0 6. d3 d6 7. Bg5 B×c3 8. b×c3
h6 9. Bh4 Qe7 10. Re1 Nd8 Preferred nowadays is 10. … g5 11. Bg3 Bg4 12. h3 Bh5 13. d4
Rad8 14. Rb1 Nb8 15. Bf1 c5 16. Qd3 Nc6 17. d5 Na5 18. Nd2 Bg6 19. f3 Nh5 20. Bf2 f5
Draw. Christiansen–De Firmian, Essen 1999. 11. d4 c6 12. Bf1 Bg4 13. h3 Bh5 14. g4 Bg6
15. Bd3 Qc7 Better is 15. … h5 16. Nh2 Qe6. 16. Qd2 Kh7 Better is 16. … Nd7. 17. Bg3 Nd7
18. Nh4 Ne6 19. f4 e×f4 20. B×f4 N×f4 21. Q×f4 Rae8 22. Nf5
B×f5 23. g×f5 f6 24. Kf2 Re7 25. Bc4 Rfe8 26. Re3 Nf8 Better wDwDrhwD
is 26. … c5 searching for counterplay in the c file. 27. Bb3 Qd7 DwDq4w0k
27. … c5 28. Rg1 a5 29. c4 b5? Better is 29. … c5 (see diagram) wDp0w0w0
30. c×b5! c×b5 31. Bd5 Now White has a winning posi- 0pDwDPDw
tion. 31. … Qc7 32. c3 b4 33. c4 a4 34. Rb1 Rb8 35. Qg3 Qa7? wDP)P!wD
A mistake in a difficult position. 36. Q×d6 Rbe8 37. c5 Qa5 DBDw$wDP
38. Qb6 Forcing a winning endgame. 38. … Q×b6 39. c×b6 PDPDwIwD
Nd7 40. R×b4 Rc8 41. b7 Rc2+ 42. Re2 R×e2+ 43. K×e2 DwDwDw$w
Nb8 44. R×a4 Black resigned. 1–0. After 29. … b5
One of the moments of interest in the tournament was Capablanca’s game against Sir
George A. Thomas, mentioned before in this chapter, in which the Englishman resigned
when he had at his disposal a tactical resource that guaranteed him at least a draw. In his
game of the ninth round against Kostić, the Cuban employed three minutes for his first 15
moves, further evidence that he was not then at his most fecund period, oblivious to the
evolution of the theory of the openings.
Another of Capablanca’s memorable games at Hastings 1919 was played in the fifth
round. In it appeared a recurring theme in the Cuban master’s productions: a piece entombed.
Capablanca addressed this topic later in his book Chess Fundamentals.
William Winter–Capablanca [C49]

5th Round, Hastings, 15 August 1919
r4wDwDwD 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bb5 Bb4 5. 0–0 0–0

DwDwDwDw 6. B×c6 d×c6 7. d3 Bd6 8. Bg5 h6 9. Bh4 c5 10. Nd5?
wDpgk0wD 10. Nd2. 10. … g5! 11. N×f6+ Q×f6 12. Bg3 Bg4 13. h3 B×f3
0p0w0w0w 14. Q×f3 Q×f3 15. g×f3 f6! “A simple examination will show
PDwDPDwD that White is minus a bishop for all practical purposes” (Capa-
DPDPDPGw blanca). 16. Kg2 a5 17. a4 Kf7 18. Rh1 Better is 18. c4! c6 19. Rfc1
RDPDw)KD Rfb8 20. b3 b5 21. Rc3 “to create a fortress” (Kasparov). 18. …
$wDwDwDw Ke6 19. h4 Rfb8 20. h×g5 h×g5 21. b3 c6 22. Ra2 b5 23. Rha1
After 23. Rha1 (see diagram)
23. … c4! 24. a×b5 If 24. d×c4 b×c4 25. b×c4 Rb4. 24. …
c×b3 25. c×b3 R×b5 26. Ra4 R×b3 27. d4 Rb5 28. Rc4 Rb4 29. R×c6 R×d4 White
resigned. 0–1.
Some of the sharpest journalists of chess in England noted that the methods employed
by the Cuban seemed easy to imitate but in reality were not. In the Morning Post (September
1, 1919), its chess editor wrote:
The games [of Hastings 1919] are being sedulously studied by ambitious young players, who,
however, may be stimulated to mistaken emulation by Capablanca’s facile methods. The right
style for Capablanca may be a wrong one for others not similarly endowed with rapid and dis-
criminating penetration. To discern or create a microscopic weakness in the opposing ranks, and
to concentrate on it without troubling to make attacking combinations, until the weight of the
position would force a climax, seems to be a simple plan, but it needs a Capablanca to carry it
into effect.
In My Chess Career, Capablanca commented on two of his games at Hastings; here is one:
Capablanca–Roland H. Scott [D46]

6th Round, Hastings, 16 August 1919 wgr4wDkD
0b1wDp0w
1. d4 d5 2. c4 c6 3. Nf3 Nf6 4. e3 e6 5. Nbd2 Nbd7 6. Bd3 w0pDphw0
Bd6 7. 0–0 0–0 8. e4 d×e4 9. N×e4 N×e4 10. B×e4 Nf6 After DwDwDNDw
10. … h6 11. Bc2 e5 12. Re1 Bb4 13. Bd2 B×d2 14. Q×d2 e×d4 wDP)wDwD
15. Q×d4 White is a little better. 11. Bc2 b6 12. Qd3 h6 13. b3 DPDwDQ)w
Qe7 14. Bb2 Rd8 15. Rad1 Bb7 16. Rfe1 Rac8 17. Nh4 Bb8 PGBDw)w)
18. g3 Kf8 19. Qf3 Kg8 20. Nf5 Qc7 (see diagram) DwDR$wIw
21. N×h6+ Kf8 22. d5 c×d5 23. B×f6 g×f6 24. Q×f6 Ke8 After 20. … Qc7
If 24. … Rd6 25. c×d5 B×d5 26. R×d5 Ke8 27. N×f7
winning. 25. R×e6+ f×e6 26. Q×e6+ Kf8
27. Qf6+ Black resigned. If 27. … Ke8 28. Re1+ Kd7
29. Qe6 mate. 1–0.
As it was expected, Capablanca won the Vic-

tory Congress with 10½ points of 11 possible,
although he was constantly followed by Kostić, who
finished a point behind, also unbeaten. The relative
ease of the triumphs of the Cuban made some jour-
nalists say that he hypnotized his opponents with
his gaze, as Hatton Ward hinted in the Daily Mirror,
under the subjective title “A New Napoleon of the
Chess Board”:
The young Cuban Master has dominated the Hast-
ings Congress in a way that is almost uncanny. He
has exercised a sort of mesmerizing influence over
some of his opponents. Their play has suggested sub-
jection to preconceived apprehension. In other
words they have really been beaten before they
started. The slightest error on the part of his oppo-
nent is quite enough for our chess Napoleon…. Cosme de la Torriente, an influential
Some chess players are painful to watch, but Capa- Cuban politician at the beginning of the
blanca is a delightful study. His pose is graceful and 20th century. He had family ties with
he makes his moves with easy and swift, yet unerring Celso Golmayo Zúpide and was a pro-
precision.…26 tector of Capablanca from his high post
as Cuban Minister of Foreign Affairs.
A day after the conclusion of the Hastings He gave Capablanca his job in the
Cuban diplomatic service.
tournament, Capablanca began one of his most cel-
ebrated tours that took him to 28 cities in England,
Ireland and Scotland, including an intermediate trip to Paris. Some of the simultaneous
exhibitions were simply spectacular, as in Stoke, Leeds, Ipswich, St. Albans, Wrexham, Guil-
ford, Bury St. Edmunds, Dudley Staffs and Luton. In this part of the tour he played a total
1919 Hastings Victory Congress

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
1 Capablanca, José Raúl • ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 101⁄2
2 Kostić, Boris ½ • ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 91⁄2
3 Thomas, George Alan 0 ½ • ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 7 30.75
4 Yates, Frederick 0 0 ½ • ½ 1 1 1 1 1 0 1 7 29.75
5 Wahltuch, Victor L. 0 ½ ½ ½ • 1 1 0 0 0 1 1 51⁄2 26.25
6 Michell, Reginald Pryce 0 0 ½ 0 0 • 0 1 1 1 1 1 51⁄2 20.00
7 Scott, Roland Henry 0 0 0 0 0 1 • 1 1 1 0 ½ 41⁄2 18.25
8 Olland, Adolf Georg 0 0 ½ 0 1 0 0 • 0 1 1 1 41⁄2 17.00
9 Marchand, Max 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 1 • 0 1 1 4
10 Conde, Adrián García 0 0 ½ 0 1 0 0 0 1 • 0 1 31⁄2
11 Winter, William 0 0 0 1 0 0 1 0 0 1 • 0 3
12 Cole, Harold Godfrey 0 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 1 • 11⁄2
of 302 games, winning them all. The total of this tour, including the first simultaneous
display offered in London on August 28, was 1,273 victories, 31 losses and 71 draws in 1,374
games, for an effectiveness of 95.16 percent.27
Of course, for Capablanca the result of the simultaneous challenge was important, but
the real meaning that he saw in these exhibitions is that they served to stimulate the people’s
interest in chess. His criteria about games with living pieces were similar, since they identified
the game with an artistic form, in this case with dance and art in general. In the same way,
he encouraged the presence of women in simultaneous games and chess tournaments.
On December 2, 1919, Capablanca was the object of a tribute in the English House of
Commons as the top chess figure of the Allied Powers. There, he had the privilege of giving
a simultaneous exhibition against 38 opponents, many of whom were members or former
members of this legislative body, or important British judges, as well as some of the accredited
journalists who covered the House’s sessions. It was a much-discussed event that received
wide publicity. In Havana, the news was highlighted in the media, which congratulated both
President Menocal and State Secretary Torriente on the good idea of appointing him as
Cuba’s traveling ambassador.
The chess world was eager for a new monarch, and Capablanca, as a part of the victo-
rious Allies’ world, was the natural heir.
9. The World Chess
Championship, 1921
This world chess championship began in the shadows. The first contacts between the
reigning champion and his challenger were made discreetly. The relative silence of Capa-
blanca in England about Lasker was a diplomatic gesture for the English, but it did not mean
that he did not understand the only solution to the championship issue should be a battle
between him and Lasker. For a few months this seemed a hazy possibility, because it was not
even known the world champion’s willingness or his health status.
This began to be clarified in a letter from Lasker to Walter Penn Shipley published in
the American Chess Bulletin (November 1919, page 249), in which the German weighed up
the opinion of the American public toward his person. The contents of the letter showed
the enormous wear and tear that the war had brought on Lasker: “My power of endurance
is nearly used up, not physically but morally.” Lasker wanted to leave Europe, which he
described quite rightly as “the center of the tempest.” And he confessed: “I am rather sick
of war, famine, revolution, immorality and violence.”1
In response, Shipley offered him a couple of presentations at the Franklin Chess Club
of Philadelphia, but apparently not covering his transatlantic expenses, in the hope that other
institutions would follow suit. It seems for a while the name Lasker was not well received in
the United States. For example, the Manhattan Chess Club took note of the letter and prom-
ised to discuss the issue at its meeting of directors. But if it did, the decision was never unveiled.
The coasts of England and the United States seemed closed to the world champion.
A press release dated in London referred to Capablanca’s plan to discuss personally
with Lasker the conditions for a match at the summit, despite the fact that just before, during
the Cuban’s tour across Great Britain, many local newspapers identified him as “The World
Chess Champion” after his triumph in the so called “Victory Tournament” of Hastings 1919.
But the Cuban did not pay attention to the gratuitous title awarded to him by the Allied
Nations, and the London Times ( June 19, 1920) found out that Capablanca was in negoti-
ations with Emanuel Lasker, and he would soon go to The Netherlands where he had
arranged an appointment with the German master. In an interview with the newspaper, the
Cuban said that he would not accept an offer from the Club Argentino de Ajedrez of about
25,000 Argentinian pesos, with 60 percent for the winner, so that the games were played in
Buenos Aires, because it seemed not enough to make such a long journey.
At that time the Argentinian peso traded at 2.3209 per dollar, making the purse worth
about $10,700. Capablanca’s rejection of the offer was a clear signal that he was aiming high.
233
The newspaper added that Capablanca was specific on two issues. First, that he would not
accept any other title than the one acquired in a battle with Lasker. And second, that the
match would be carried out in the city that offered the best purse.
One day after this information was published, Lasker and Capablanca arrived at a
mutual understanding on the issue. The American Chess Bulletin (May-June 1920) showed
photographic evidence of the lunch at the home of the treasurer of the Dutch Chess Feder-
ation, in which Lasker and Capablanca appeared in a group around a table, and it also high-
lighted the presence of Richard Réti, then in The Netherlands. On January 25, both made
public the contract bases. The obvious rapidity with which an agreement was reached this
time was explained by some as Lasker necessities.
Speculations that the meeting was the result of chance or just a coincidental encounter
between them were inaccurate. For example, in the American Chess Bulletin it was published:
“Capablanca has completed his list of engagements in Great Britain and is reported to be
on his way to Madrid, by way of The Netherlands, where according to advices from Haarlem,
he was expected to stop off for a brief period, and, incidentally, encounter Dr. Emanuel
Lasker in an unofficial and friendly way.”2 In reality, it was a date planned by the Dutch
Chess Federation and was on the verge of not taking place, as Capablanca himself explained:
In 1919, while in London, I received a letter from the Netherlands Chess Association, asking me
whether I would be willing to play Dr. Lasker and, if so, under what conditions. I replied imme-
diately that I would be very glad to play for the championship and suggested that a meeting
should be arranged in Holland to discuss the matter personally. After a long delay, when I had
practically given up all hope, I received word that Dr. Lasker would meet me at The Hague.3
Another debatable point is that several historians and journalists wrote that the only
reason Lasker agreed to play the match was the $20,000 (about $270,000 in 2015) purse
that was at stake. As we will see later, the initial agreement between them was not playing
for less than $8,000 ($108,000), a figure that was difficult to obtain at the beginning, although
the reaction of the clubs seemed to indicate the opposite. The clauses released in The Hague
on January 23, 1920, said:
The Nederlandse Schaakbond had called us to a meeting in order to discuss rules for a match for
the Chess Championship. We thank the Nederlandse Schaakbond for this initiative and for its
courtesies extended to us and beg to make the following remarks and proposition:
Señor Capablanca having formally challenged Dr. Lasker to a match for the Chess Champi-
onship of the World, Dr. Lasker submits for the Nederlandse Schaakbond’s consideration and
for the consideration of the chess world at large the following conditions, which have been
accepted by Señor Capablanca:
1. The match to be of eight games up, draws not counting, but if after thirty games neither
player has obtained eight victories the match and the title of champion shall go to the player
having the highest score. In case of draw, the champion retains the title.
2. There shall be six days of play every week, in sessions of four hours, no two sessions, nor
two games to take place the same day.
3. The time limit shall be fifteen moves per hour.
4. A referee shall be appointed by mutual consent of the two players. In case they cannot
agree, the club or organization under whose auspices the match takes place shall appoint the ref-
eree. The referee’s decision upon any point will be final.
5. Each player shall be entitled to three days off at his pleasure, provided on each occasion he
notifies in writing either his opponent or the referee in advance of the time the game is sched-
uled to begin.
6. In consideration of the interest aroused by such a match, due to the reputation of the two
players involved, and the long time the preparation and playing of the match may take, no offer
below eight thousand dollars as a purse for the whole of the match can be considered.
7. In addition to his share of the purse, each player shall receive return traveling expenses,
and also living expenses from the beginning of the match.
8. Of the total of the purse the titleholder shall receive sixty percent, and the challenger
forty percent, independently of the result of the match.
9. In the case of several bids for the whole or a part of the match are made, Dr. Lasker agrees
to consider each bid upon its subjective merits.
10. Dr. Lasker shall give Senor Capablanca three months’ notice, counting from the time the
message reaches Senor Capablanca’s home address at Havana, as to the place and other final
arrangements of the match.
11. Both Players agree to join in publishing a book of the match, issued in a limited edition,
each player annotating the games of the match for this purpose.
12. The players reserve to themselves the right of publication of any game singly or in a book.
13. Pending the final choice of the referee, both players agree to name Mr. Walter Penn Ship-
ley, of Philadelphia, to act provisionally in that capacity.
14. Senor Capablanca, due to well founded reasons, cannot agree to begin the match before
January 1, 1921.
15. In view of clause 14, Dr. Lasker has the right to engage anyone before 1921 in a match for
the world’s championship. Should he lose, this contract is void. Should he resign the title, it
reverts to Senor Capablanca.
The Hague, 23rd January, 1920 [American Chess Bulletin, March 1920, pages 45–46].
The published news about the contract largely gave the impression that many cities
or chess clubs were interested in organizing this competition, which was called the “match
of the century.” But all such speculations lacked any real basis. After signing the clauses of
the match with Lasker and having culminated his Spanish tour in Barcelona on February
26,4 Capablanca returned to Paris and from there he went to the French port of Le Havre.
There he boarded La France, which brought him to New York, where he landed on March
14. After a simultaneous display in Baltimore on March 26, in which he defeated his
26 opponents; the next day he boarded the Morro Castle to Havana, where he arrived on
March 31.
The same day that Capablanca disembarked in Havana after his most illustrious tour,
his autobiography My Chess Career was put on sale by the publishing houses G. Bell & Son
Ltd., London, and Macmillan Company, New York. It featured a foreword by French-British
writer Julius du Mont, which commented on the objectivity with which the Cuban player
had written the book: “He speaks of himself not as a ‘master,’ that were false modesty, but
as ‘one of the greatest players in the world,’ and this rather denotes consciousness of his
powers and says barely enough.” The book’s title was a personal reaffirmation of his self-
esteem, devoid of any hint of humility. The use of the possesive My in the title broke a taboo
and, as had happened many times with his actions, many chess masters of today have followed
in his steps.5
When the book came out, the highest praise came from literary circles, astounded about
the facility with which the author had made so palatable for the common reader a subject
as dry as the chess game. Professional chess players, on the other hand, blasted what they
considered the arrogance and lack of humility of the author, while the average chess afi-
cionado found it a delicious read. For Capablanca, My Chess Career fully achieved its pro-
motional goal at a time he was in search of financial backing for his match against Lasker.
Perhaps the legacy of My Chess Career is less than that of Chess Fundamentals (1921), but it
was a memorable book. In a long, two-page review, the American Chess Bulletin (April 1920,
pages 65–66) wrote: “Of all of Capablanca’s varied achievement none, we venture to say,
will be hailed with greater delight that his latest and best contribution to the literature of
the game that has made of him a star in Caissa’s firmament more resplendent that any other
save that of Morphy alone.”6
To Capablanca’s surprise, when he arrived in Havana his reception by the press and the
official circles was not as warm as he expected, nor was the publication of My Chess Career
mentioned. That made him doubt in the beginning that he would be able to find in Cuba
any financial backing for the world championship match, even though at the time the econ-
omy was flush, since the price of sugar was up. On March 27, the day Capablanca left New
York, the price of sugar was at 12 cents (about $2.80 in 2015) per pound, compared to the
average 1919 price of 6.5 cents (about $1.45). Two weeks after his arrival in Havana, April
15, it was 18 cents ($4.15); at the end of May, 22.5 cents ($5.30). In the opinion of the econ-
omists, sugar selling at 5.5 cents ($1.30) was enough “to spur the island to the utmost extremes
of prosperity.”7
Upon realizing the situation, some journalists called attention to it. For instance, El
Mundo (April 6, 1920, page 12) published the following Guillermo Pi story:
CAPABLANCA IS SAD AND DISCOURAGED

The winner of the Victory Congress is received in his own country with the utmost indifference.
We have barely registered the arrival of the illustrious chess master after an absence of almost
a year during his glorious tour through the capitals of the civilized world, where he conquered
the most select laurels of glory for Cuba. The obligatory reference in the port rolls, one more
person that made it by the passenger plank, and perhaps a passing mention or two lost in the far-
rago of daily news; those have been the sole indications that José Raúl Capablanca is back in his
homeland, at the home of his elders. His mood is understandably dejected. I saw him yesterday
at his home, and he provided me with a world of fresh, exciting news, which should be
immensely joyful for those who love Cuba, those who bask in her greatness and suffer through
her vicissitudes.... He came and went, invited everywhere, feted everywhere, surrounded as by a
halo by his glory and his success, hopping from one great culture center to another, causing the
name of Cuba to be pronounced in admiration everywhere, embodying the most splendid adver-
tisement of our culture.
And, what does Capablanca receive from his country in exchange for giving it so much? A
salary so modest, so puny, that not even doubling its amount would suffice for expenses of repre-
sentation in the high spheres where his genius shines with unequaled fulguration. This injustice
that is being visited upon the wonderful chess champion is as enormous as it is detrimental to
the interests of Cuba.
The subject was brought up again by Pi in Bohemia (April 11):

This time, coming like the previous ones heavily laden with freshly won laurels, I found him
somewhat disconsolate, his mood darkened by the coldness, the emptiness he finds growing
around him, upon realizing that neither official nor private circles have made the slightest ges-
ture of appreciation toward him. His arrival has gone mostly unacknowledged. After an in-depth
conversation about the transcendence of his tour, his victories, and his agreement with Lasker,
this reporter addressed the thorniest issue:
“Since you have informed me so thoroughly about the artistic and the scientific sides of your
invaluable tour, which has given Cuba such renown abroad, could you go a little into the finan-
cial aspect of it?”
“Let’s not get into that,” said Capablanca. “It is such a delicate matter that has me like I am on
pins and needles. You go on these trips to cultivate honors, satisfactions, to strike friendships, to
strengthen ties of amity and affection, whatever you want, but never in search of money, not
even to subsist. As you can imagine, you have to dress the part, you have to mingle, to return the
attentions, and that—do you know how much that costs in this day and age? In London I paid
four pounds for a dozen roses I gave to a distinguished lady, wife of a well-known English gentle-
man who took me everywhere in his luxury automobile. And if a dozen pretty roses cost four
pounds, a quarter-hour trip by taxicab costs five or six; hotels, trains, steamboats, clothes, shoes,
the theater, returning invitations to people who have been kind to me. You simply cannot imag-
ine how much all that can cost. With what the Cuban government pays me, even adding to it
what I collect when there are cash prizes in the tournaments, putting it all together and stretch-
ing my budget to ridiculous extremes, it does not even suffice to tip the valets. I am disappointed
at not finding the needed understanding of all the publicity I do in my career. I will have no
choice, if I continue meeting with this lack of attention, this coldness toward me, but to surren-
der to circumstances and do what Cachupín did—stay home.”
Pi did not let the matter rest and went back to battle once more in the April 17 (page
7) edition of El Mundo:
In view of the news that pops up, sometimes in a vague fashion and sometimes professing to be
exact, regarding the time and the place where the Lasker–Capablanca match is to be fought, I
resolved to interview again the Cuban champion—who is also the champion of all of the Ameri-
cas—in the 17 Street of our peaceful neighborhood of El Vedado, where I was received with the
unfailing courtesy that distinguished any good Cuban family, not to mention that we are already
old friends.
A few moments later I was in a small parlor, warmly shaking the affectionate hand of José
Raúl Capablanca, a pinnacle of the glory brought to Cubans by the labyrinthine machinations of
Fortune.
“What was published by El Mundo days ago of our interview at the Union Club has not suf-
ficed,” I told José Raúl. “The public is insatiable, and the readers of the popular journal want to
know more about the world chess championship for which you and Lasker will face off.”
“I have some news for the readers of El Mundo. I have been pledged here a sum significantly
higher than what has been offered anywhere else, so I will insist that the match be hosted here.”
“These Cuban offers, do they come from the official spheres of government, or are they from
private citizens, from friends?”
“The official spheres have feigned deafness in this case, and you will understand that I cannot
do, I ought not do, what Moses did with the mountain upon seeing it did not come to him. My
case is very different. The government of my country knows perfectly well the financial situation
I am in.”
“So, it was only your friends who offered their assistance for the match not to be held
abroad?”
“Friends of mine and friends of patriotism; Cubans who would feel affronted that a lack of
resources—more so in this moment of riches unequaled in Cuban history—would force me to
go elsewhere, no matter how well I would feel there, to hold the great match, the great battle for
the world supremacy in the game of kings.”
Actually, although there had not been support “from the official spheres,” it had been
President Menocal who pledged to him, in a personal capacity, a contribution of 5,000 pesos
($60,000 in 2015). Truffin and Aníbal Mesa, both of them patrons of the match against
Kostić, promised the same amount. When Casino de la Playa offered its saloons plus another
5,000 by mid–June, for a total of 20,000 pesos, Capablanca seemed to have been guaranteed
a fund at his disposal unimaginable to that point in the chess world.
In the midst of a situation that seemed to be improving by the day, an unexpected turn
of events sounded an alarm. In the morning of June 26, Capablanca received a call from the
offices of La Discusión newspaper to inform him that Lasker had renounced his plans to play
the match and was conceding to him the title:
Amsterdam, June 26.—Emanuel Lasker, world chess champion, has written José Raúl Capa-
blanca, the Cuban champion, with whom he had a pending game, a letter which says the follow-
ing:
“From all points of view, I think that the chess world is not willing to agree to the conditions
of our agreement. I cannot play a match knowing that its rules are completely unpopular. Thus, I
renounce the title of world’s champion in your favor. You have earned the title not by the formal-
ity of a formal challenge, but by your brilliant mastery. In your further career I wish you much
success” [American Chess Bulletin, July-August 1920].
Capablanca immediately made a press statement that appeared in many newspapers
the following day, among them the New York Times edition of June 28:
HAVANA, June 27.—José R. Capablanca, the Cuban chess expert, said today that unless unfore-
seen developments intervened he would not change his plan to go to Europe and confer with Dr.
Emanuel Lasker with regards to arranging a match for the championship of the world. Dr.
Lasker last week yielded the championship to Capablanca.
It was said by Capablanca today that one of the complaints of Dr. Lasker with regards to a
contest for the championship concerned the long duration of the matches. Capablanca was of
the opinion that this hitch could be smoothed out.
Capablanca also said that it was his opinion that Dr. Lasker in yielding his title believed that
the regulations for the match could not be changed, but that he was convinced that modifica-
tions could be arranged and a match for the championship played. As yet Capablanca has not
received Dr. Lasker’s letter forfeiting the championship.
But Lasker did not know about the progress made by Capablanca since his arrival in
Havana, where thanks to his efforts he had gradually won support for the match. Of course,
it is to be presumed that the Cuban capital was certainly not the place Lasker would choose
to hold it.
The whole situation was also aggravated by Lasker’s misinterpretation of a strange and
fortuitous occurrence. Dr. Benito Pérez Mendoza had written Lasker two letters from Buenos
Aires; the first, April 25, 1919, and the second a year later. This second letter was lost, never
to be seen again, but Lasker received the 1919 letter a year late, in 1920, and thought it con-
tained a harsh criticism of the conditions he agreed on with Capablanca, when Pérez Men-
doza was actually alluding to the conditions stipulated by Lasker back in 1911—not in
1920. Since he also deeply resented the hostile attitude of the British, Lasker decided to
renounce the title that, according to the agreement he had signed with the Cuban player,
corresponded to the challenger.8
Lasker’s withdrawal should be interpreted taking into account his state of agitation
and mental insecurity after the disaster that for him was the war’s and, above all, Germany’s
defeat. So much so that, less than 24 hours after announcing that he had renounced his
crown, he reviewed Dr. Pérez Mendoza’s letter and realized the mistake he had made:
Distinguished Pérez Mendoza,
Yesterday I received your letter of April 1919, which has taken over a year to arrive here. At
first I thought the letter was dated April 25, 1920. Under this impression I decided to do what I
have been pondering for a while; I thought that you disapproved of my deference to Capablanca.
The world of chess is filled with prejudice of all sorts, and it is incapable of acting in unanimity.
And, well, all that has affected me, and I declined the title in favor of José Raúl Capablanca.
The letter in which I was sending my decision to Capablanca was included in another
addressed to Walter Penn Shipley, which was sent yesterday, and one that cannot express disap-
proval of my actions. However, the decision has already been taken.
Moreover, my renunciation has a positive side; the young masters will be able to come for-
ward. They have talent enough to combine matches for the championship in the future.
I expect to keep your friendship, which makes me proud.
Sincerely yours,
Emanuel Lasker [Revista del Club Argentino, number 69, June-September, 1920].
At the news of Lasker’s resignation, Capablanca tried everything that was in his power
to save the match. On June 29, the Cuban boarded the Morro Castle again and arrived in
New York on July 2. There he boarded the Rotterdam ( July 21) that took him back to the
Netherlands for a new round of negotiations with Lasker. In the New York Times of July 22
it was explained: “He [Lasker] did not know that Havana had offered $20,000 (about
$230,000) for this contest.…” Finally the international press circuits transmitted the follow-
ing information: “T HE HAGUE, August. 9.—Dr. Emanuel Lasker, holder of the world’s chess
championship for twenty-six years, and José R. Capablanca, the Cuban chess champion,
concluded an agreement today to play a match for twenty-four games for the world’s chess
championship. The match is to take place in Havana.”
After the signing of the new agreement, Capablanca went to Paris, where he had the
good fortune to meet with Regino Truffin, one of the financiers of the encounter and then
president of the Union Club. Thence Truffin told Lasker the purse money was insured. A
few weeks later, from Havana, Truffin reiterated the assurances to Lasker in a cable that was
published in the American Chess Bulletin, January 1921, page 2:
Havana, December 24.
[Dr. Lasker. Berlin:]
We will wire $3,000 [almost $35,000 in 2015] provided you cable back you will come, giving
date for match to begin. Weather here fine till end of April. Capablanca already here. Our
answer delayed due to absence of principal contributors.
Truffin.
To which Lasker responded by wire: “Begin match March 10.” The text of the response
telegram was quoted in the same New York chess magazine. But further problems arose in
a letter Lasker sent to Capablanca, who explained the details in a missive to the British Chess
Magazine, October 1922 (here quoted in part):
… Unfortunately, in this letter [Lasker to Capablanca, November 1920] he also wrote that he
wanted a number of things that were nothing in fact but a lot of new demands, for which there
were no grounds whatever in the articles which he had just signed. These demands were of a
totally absurd character and might have been considered insulting. Although the match was only
to start on [sic] January 1921, he demanded that $3,000 [almost $35,000 in 2015] should be put
at his disposal in Amsterdam sometime in October 1920. Then that $4,000 [$46,000] more
should be paid to him 24 hours before the match started. The reader can draw his own conclu-
sions about this matter. Such demands could certainly be construed as an insult to the good faith
of the generous contributors to the purse. Dr. Lasker in return offered no guarantees whatever,
except his word. Dr. Lasker wrote a similar letter to Judge Alberto Ponce, which elicited the
reply given by Dr. Lasker in his book of the match. Since Judge Ponce had nothing to do with
the financial arrangements of the match, he could not, of course, satisfy Dr. Lasker’s demands.
Besides, at the time, Judge Ponce was not aware of Mr. Truffin’s letter, or else he probably would
have told Dr. Lasker to address himself to Mr. Truffin….
The peculiarities of 1920 were totally different from 1893 and 1906, when Lasker visited
Cuba invited by the Havana Chess Club. Now, efforts were almost purely personal by Capa-
blanca, without the intervention of that institution in the slightest of the financial obligations
of the contract. However, Gelabert in his biography of Capablanca wrote that Pazos was the
key figure to gather the funds for the match. The urgent travel to the Netherlands should
have been expensive to Capablanca, but due to his popularity he was able to recover part
(or all) of the money spent on his trip to The Hague, thanks to several simultaneous exhi-
bitions in England and the Netherlands, starting October 9th in Bristol and finished the
23rd in Hortogenbosch, Netherlands. The results of this small tour were 184 victories, 7
losses and 11 draws in 202 games.
The 1921 match seems to be the only one in which the means of preparation for the
contest by the two rivals were the exhibition of simultaneous displays, as Lasker also took a
long tour in the Netherlands. Something that also surprised Capablanca, once the new diffi-
culties were apparently resolved, is that Lasker had requested to begin the match in March
and not in January 1921, which was a much more auspicious date from the point of view of
the weather. January and February were the months used par excellence in the famous encoun-
ters of chess in Havana in the 19th century. Capablanca sailed back to America from the
French port of Cherbourg on November 3.
In New York more than a dozen journalists awaited the steamer Olympic of the White
Star Line, the biggest transatlantic at that time, and the only survivor of her sister ships
Titanic and Britannic. There was no precedent for such an interest from the press in a chess
player. In fact, it was the first time that a son of Caissa was treated as an equal to a movie or
a baseball star. When the port authorities lifted the brief quarantine of the Olympic after the
usual sanitary inspection, the journalists followed the famous passenger to the nearby Penn-
sylvania Hotel. Those who could not interview him personally called by phone to his room
to ask about his plans and the way in which he learned to play chess. For all of them it was
absolutely amazing that in such a short time he could speak and understand English, although
they mentioned that he did it with some difficulty.
The object of such unusual attention was not Capablanca, but the new child prodigy
of chess, the Polish Szmul Rzeszewski (later Samuel Reshevsky), who first arrived on Amer-
ican soil on November 3, 1920. So several days later, when Capablanca disembarked from
the Adriatic on November 12, the paramount interest of journalists was his opinion about
the new genius who had appeared in chess, although perhaps the Cuban did not know any
more about him than what he could have read in the press of London or Paris. If it was so,
it was enough for him to understand that this was the emergence of a figure of the first mag-
nitude. Capablanca said very seriously to the New York Times (November 14, 1920): “The
little fellow is in a class a shade below that of the international masters.” And added that, in
his opinion: “There are not many players in this country who could defeat the child in a
serious match.”
Capablanca recalled the concern of his parents when he was a child, so he suggested:
“The best care must be taken of the boy.” Of course, the Cuban was very pleased with the
interest the child had created, because of how much it could mean for the popularity of
chess. In fact, everyone wanted to see the boy in action and to appreciate his skills. An
example of the huge interest in the child was that for a transcontinental tour of Rzeszewski
the formalities were arranged faster than the record time that got the American Chess Bulletin
in 1909 to present the Cuban at many clubs in the United States.9 When Capablanca returned
from New York to Havana on December 18, he was not yet sure whether his match with
Lasker would be played, which became clear in a note published in the New York Times
(December 19, 1920) the day after his departure:
Bound for the scene of the contemplated world’s chess championship match, concerning which,
however, there is still considerable doubt, Jose R. Capablanca, title holder by grace of Dr.
Emanuel Lasker, undefeated champion for twenty-six years, sailed for Havana yesterday on
board the steamship Mexico of the Ward Line. Up to the time of his departure, the Cuban mas-
ter had not received additional tidings as to the intention of Dr. Lasker, either from Berlin or
from Havana, where a purse of $20,000 was subscribed.
Willing to play the match at any cost, Capablanca accepted the gratuitous title, since
otherwise Lasker would not sit to play. In tune with the libretto and to satisfy the German,
he made some statements as “Chess Champion of the World,” which were published in the
American Chess Bulletin, September–October 1920, under the heading: “STATEMENT OF
THE NEW WORLD’S CHAMPION,” in which he promised that if he succeeded in defending
his title, he would propose a way for the organization of future meetings at the summit that
would be subject to the approval of the major figures of chess:
In case the match with Dr. Lasker is played and I remain the Champion, I shall insist in all
future championship matches that there be only one session of play a day of either five or six
hours, preferably six. My idea is that the chess public in general would like to have as many
games as possible finished in one sitting. They think rightly. I believe that adjournment makes
for analysis and that the champion should be the man capable of playing best over the board, not
the man who can best study the game at home, and has more patience to work out the variations
that may arise; also, that the adjournment, by breaking the continuity of the game, somewhat
lessens the interest of the onlookers. As the champion of the world, I shall insist on introducing
modifications in the playing rules of matches and tournaments that will tend to make them more
attractive to its supporters, at the same time always safeguarding the interest of the real masters.
In whatever modifications I may introduce in the championship rules I shall look for no per-
sonal advantage either of psychological character or otherwise, but always be guided by three
things, viz: 1. the interest of the chess masters; 2. the interest of the chess public, and 3. last but
not least, the interest of chess, which, to me, far more than a game is an art.
J.R. CAPABLANCA. Chess Champion of the World.10
The concession of the title by Lasker was something amazing, but for the Cuban it did
not make sense to object to it. It is true that he wished to win the crown over the board, but
we cannot forget that if the match was not held, Capablanca would not get his share of the
purse, a considerable amount then. So, in his persistence that the match be played, besides
the sports factor, the economic must also be taken into consideration. A rhetorical question
that emerges from Lasker’s attitude to play as a challenger is: What would happen then if
the match finished tied? The clauses established that in this case the “champion” retained
the crown. But the champion, according to Lasker, was not he, but Capablanca. Luckily the
match did not end tied.
When Lasker finally agreed to a payment of 11,000 pesos (about $142,000 in 2015) as
“challenger,” while the “champion,” Capablanca, would receive no more than 9,000
($115,500), the difference was explained in terms of expenses of travel and accommoda-
tion. As Capablanca feared, this was not the end of uncertainties. Lasker was stubborn
about not traveling directly to Cuba, but to the United States, and wished to play some exhi-
bitions over there in order to afford his Atlantic crossing. Hence, his request to start the
match in March, and not in January or February. Capablanca learned immediately of Lasker’s
reasons thanks to his American friends. This was corroborated later in the visa application,
where the German wrote that the purpose of his trip was “to visit chess clubs in the United
States.” Lasker did not seem to understand the delicacy of his situation as a German citizen,
when technically the United States and Germany were still at war.
NO PASSPORT FOR LASKER
Chess Champion’s Application
Reported Refused at Washington
BERLIN, Feb 1.—The American State Department has not given Dr. Emanuel Lasker, the
world’s chess champion, a visa for his proposed trip to New York and Cuba to meet José Capa-
blanca, the Cuban chess master. Dr. Lasker’s first application for permission to enter the United
States was refused at Washington. The application set forth that his intention was “to visit chess
clubs in the United States.” It failed to specify that the primary purpose was to meet Capablanca
in a championship match at Havana.
Dr. Lasker informed the Associated Press that his trip was in abeyance owing to the State
Department’s refusal to issue a visa for himself and his wife. He doubted that the match would
begin on March 10, as the only opportunities to make the voyage that would suit him were
afforded over ship lines touching at American ports.11
The visa issue was resolved through personal efforts of the new president of the Manhattan
Chess Club, Herbert R. Limburg, who pleaded the case to Bainbridge Colby, a former member
of the club who was then U.S. Secretary of State. When that happened, on February 8, it was
evident that if Lasker could arrive in Havana on the date set, his desire to “visit chess clubs” in
the United States to pay for the costs of his trip from Germany was already unattainable. On
January 4, a month before the refusal of the visa was known, Lasker had declared in Berlin that
the match would not start until March 10. Finally, on February 16, 1921, Lasker sailed from
Amsterdam directly to Havana aboard the ship Hollandia. But before embarking he sent the
first of his articles about the match to the Dutch newspaper De Telegraaf:
I think the result of this match would not depend on external factors, but on the essence of the
problem of the strategy. It is that I face this problem quite differently than does Capablanca.
Generally speaking, Capablanca is not a theorist; he is a brilliant representative of practice. He is
and he wants to be. He probably considers suspicious any theories which are not clear and
immediately applicable. He is shrewd, skillful, strong and inventive. I think his ideal is Ulysses.
For my part, I have always been a theorist, a philosopher. I am more interested in the meaning of
an event that in the event itself, the rule rather than the exception. I want to dominate the
moment trying to understand its meaning. My ideal is Julius Caesar, who always directed his
forces against the lowest resistance and thus tried to estimate things according to their real value
[American Chess Bulletin, May-June 1922, page 86].
Emanuel and Marta Lasker arrived in Havana on Monday, March 7. This was reported
on the first page of the main newspapers in the city, although many of the stories had inac-
curacies. For example, one of them said that Lasker had defeated “Tchigorine” in the Cuban
capital in 1906. In reality, the only link with Chigorin was that the match would be played
on the same table the Russian master and Steinitz used in 1892. After the reception at the
port by Dr. Rafael de Pazos and other members of the board of directors of the Havana
Chess Club, Lasker and his wife were driven up to the luxurious Hotel Trotcha, in Calzada
Avenue, El Vedado, then an exclusive residential area of Havana, very close to the sea. Its
rooms were oriented towards the north with the aim that they never receive the rays of the
sun directly. Between the hotel and the shore there was not any other construction, so sea
air came directly to it.12
The next day at the Union Club the practical details of the match were completed,
such as to play 24 games, five games every week, except on Sundays, as well as another day
for adjourned encounters. Only one game per day would be played, in a session of four hours,
at a rate of 15 moves per hour. The playing time, both regular sessions and adjourned game
resumptions, would always begin at 9:00 p.m., a very unusual late hour for a game of chess.
Judge Alberto Ponce was chosen as the referee of the match. Dr. Pazos would attend Lasker
as his “godfather,” and Márquez Sterling would fulfill the same role with Capablanca. Hartwig
Cassel, who reported the match for the New York Evening Post and the American Chess Bul-
letin, said that the first time he saw Lasker after his arrival, he did not seem to him a healthy
person. “To begin with, he [Lasker] was not physically fit to play. The suffering he experienced
during the war naturally weakened his faculties and when he arrived at Havana early in
March he did not by any means look like a healthy person.”13 On the other hand, when the
match ended, Cassel acknowledged, in statements to the same issue of the American Chess
Bulletin (May-June 1921), that Lasker had already bounced back. This is the opposite of
what usually has been written, that Lasker arrived healthy and returned ill: “After Dr. Lasker
had resigned, without playing ten of the scheduled games, and the match had gone into His-
tory, the ex-champion,” according to Mr. Cassel, “made a quick recovery, soon became quite
chipper and, before he sailed for Spain, was much his old self.”
The first game was played on March 15 in the halls of the Union Club. Dr. Angel Albear,
a future president of the Cuban Chess Federation (Federación Cubana de Ajedrez) who
served as chauffeur to Lasker during his stay in Havana, said that for the initial meeting and
the drawing of colors, he, in the company of Pazos, picked up the German in his car at his
hotel a little after 7:00 p.m. The group arrived in advance at the Union Club, which was
about 20–25 minutes away. There, the rest of the board of directors awaited both rivals.
That same evening, without an opening ceremony, they proceeded to draw the color of the
pieces for the first game, in which Capablanca won the right to play with White. 14
Capablanca–Emanuel Lasker [D63]

World Championship, 1st Game, Havana, 15 March 1921
1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 e6 3. c4 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 Nbd7 6. Nc3 0–0 7. Rc1 b6 8. c×d5
e×d5 9. Bb5 Preferred nowadays is 9. Qa4 c5 10. Ba6 c×d4 11. e×d4 B×a6 12. Q×a6 Qc8
13. Qb5 Qb7 14. 0–0 with a little advantage for White. 9. ... Bb7 10. Qa4 a6 11. B×d7
N×d7 12. B×e7 Q×e7 13. Qb3 Qd6 14. 0–0 Rfd8 15. Rfd1 Rab8 16. Ne1 Nf6 17. Rc2 c5
18. d×c5 b×c5 19. Ne2 Ne4 Black has an interesting possibility with 19. ... c4 20. Qc3 Bc6
21. Nd4 Bd7 22. f3 Re8. 20. Qa3 Rbc8 21. Ng3 N×g3 22. h×g3 Qb6 23. Rcd2 If 23. Rdc1
d4 24. R×c5 R×c5 25. R×c5 [A.N.: Better seems 25. Q×c5 Q×c5
26. R×c5 and if 26. ... d3?—better is 26. ... d×e3 27. f×e3 Kf8 wDrDwDkD
with an even game—27. N×d3 R×d3 28. Rc7 with a winning DwDwDp0w
position] 25. ... d3 26. N×d3 R×d3 27. Q×d3 Q×c5 28. Qd7 p1wDwDw0
Ba8 (Lasker). 23. ... h6 24. Nf3 d4 25. e×d4 B×f3 26. Q×f3 Dw0wDwDw
R×d4 (see diagram) wDw4wDwD
Better is 26. ... c×d4 (Lasker). 27. Rc2 R×d1+ 28. Q×d1 DwDwDQ)w
Rd8 29. Qe2 Qd6 30. Kh2 Qd5 31. b3 Qf5 32. g4 Qg5 33. g3 P)w$w)PD
Rd6 34. Kg2 g6 35. Qc4 Re6 36. Q×c5 Q×g4 37. f3 Qg5 DwDRDwIw
38. Q×g5 h×g5 39. Kf2 Rd6 40. Ke3 Re6+ 41. Kd4 Rd6+ After 26. … R×d4
42. Ke3 Or 42. Kc5 Rd3 43. Rf2 g4 44. f×g4 R×g3 45. Rf4 with a small advantage for
White. But Black can play 45. ... Kg7 46. Ra4 g5 47. Kb6 f5 48. g×f5 Rf3 49. K×a6 Kf6 with
a probable draw. 42. ... Re6+ 43. Kf2 Rd6 44. g4 44. Ke2!? Re6+ 45. Kd3 Rd6+ 46. Kc3
with a little advantage to White (Khalifman). But Black can play 46. ... Rf6 47. Rf2 Kg7
48. Kd4 g4 49. f4 Rd6+ 50. Ke3 Re6+ 51. Kd2 Rd6+ 52. Kc2 Rc6+ 53. Kd3 Rc1 with an
even endgame. 44. ... Rd1 45. Ke2 Ra1 46. Kd3 Kg7 47. b4 Rf1 48. Ke3 Rb1 49. Rc6
R×b4 50. R×a6 Rb2 Draw. If 51. Ra7 (51. Ra8 f5 52. Ra6 Kf7 53. g×f5 g×f5 54. a4 Rb3+
55. Ke2 Ra3 56. a5 Ke7 57. Ra7+ Ke6 58. a6 Ra2+ 59. Ke3 Kd5 60. Rd7+ Kc6 61. Rg7 R×a6
62. R×g5 Ra3+ draw) 51. ... Kf6 52. a4 Rb3+ 53. Ke4 Rb4+ 54. Kd5 Rf4 55. a5 R×f3
56. Ra6+ Ke7 57. Rb6 Ra3 58. a6 f5 59. Rb7+ Kf6 60. Rb6+ Ke7 Draw. ½–½
Apart from chess itself, there was another little-known issue concerning this first game:
Lasker complained that his clock went quicker than Capablanca’s. Ponce, who had taken
steps against any complaint of that kind, immediately showed him a certificate that the
instrument was in good condition, signed by a German clockmaker. What actually happened
is that after one of his moves, Lasker failed to press the button that stopped his clock. Capa-
blanca agreed to have 20 minutes added to his time and to discount this from his rival. With
this, a major conflict was avoided. At the end of the game, the time spent by Capablanca was
2 hours and 44 minutes; Lasker, 2 hours and 35 minutes.15
The match was followed with great interest everywhere. The Argentine newspaper La
Nación bought the rights to daily receive the development of the game, at a cost exceeding
1,000 pesos. In distant Moscow, as Vasily Panov wrote in USSR magazine, June 1960, the
news from Havana was expected with impatience:
The slim Alekhine, with leather jacket and rubber boots for snow, was playing a game at the club
when suddenly someone entered with a newspaper in his hand. “The Capablanca–Lasker match
has begun!!” he yelled. Alekhine got up quickly, grabbed the newspaper, and started to analyze
the game on a board. Next day, in the same club, the Muscovite master Nicolai Grigoriev read an
analytical report of Capablanca’s game and expressed the firm conviction that Capablanca would
very soon be the champion of the world.
After the first game held at the Union Club, the remaining were played in the Casino
de la Playa (also known as Casino de Marianao), which was located in the west side of Havana,
at the top of a small hill close to the sea. The room reserved for the games had direct access
to the gardens of the casino. According to the aforementioned letter of Capablanca to the
British Chess Magazine of October 1922, sometimes the marine air blew with such force that
it was necessary to close the windows of the room. Lasker asked Albear to pick him up at 7:45
p.m., with time enough to arrive even with some unexpected surprise at the Casino de la
Playa, because before the beginning of the games, he liked to sit and meditate on one of the
benches in the garden, or simply chat with fans or personalities of the Havana Chess Club
who were there. As Albear recalled, Lasker was not always ready when he came, so in many
cases they departed late. Albear’s task was one of the most difficult in the competition,
because besides the evening journey which used to end around 2:00 a.m., when he left Dr.
Lasker at his abode, the next day he had to take the German and his wife Marta to lunch, or
to the multiple invitations that the master was receiving from Cuban professionals, or from
the German or Jewish colony in Havana, which had grown greatly after the war.16
One of those invitations was to one of Havana’s most important cigar factories, whose
founder Herman Upmann was a German. Upmann made history in the industry of the
habano (the pure Havana cigar), both with his products and with the innovation of packing
them in luxurious and aromatic cedar boxes, several of which were given or sold to Lasker
during his visit. In his aforementioned article in the American Chess Bulletin (May-June 1920),
Hartwig Cassel commented: “Moreover, he [Lasker] made it a practice to come to the business
part of the city for luncheon at the time when it is hottest in town, on the plea that the food
given to him at the hotel was not palatable. Beside this practice, which could do him no pos-
sible good, he took in the sights of Havana, besides attending luncheons and dinners given
to him in his honor.”17 In fact, it was not the food in the first hotel that was bad, but the one
in the place Lasker had moved into a few days after arriving in Havana, a guest house at the
corner of 25th Street and D, in the same neighborhood of El Vedado, but relatively distant
from the shore, at about one mile. The guest house was owned by a Jewish lady whose surname,
according to Albear, sounded similar to Lasker’s: Laisker or Laisher. By leaving the Hotel
Trotcha (or the Hotel Almendares) for a site less expensive, the German master faced the lack
of a restaurant (or the poor kitchen of the owner of the guest house), which forced him and
his wife to travel every day to the center of the city for their afternoon meal.
Cuban newspapers highlighted that Sunday, March 19, normally a day of rest for people
in Havana, was a day of hard work for Lasker and Capablanca. They resumed the second game
and battled for four hours over a virtually even position. The final result was another draw.
Emanuel Lasker–Capablanca [D37]

World Championship, 2nd Game. Havana, 19 March 1921
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Nf3 Nbd7 5. e3 Nowadays 5. Bf4, 5 c×d5 or 5. Bg5
are preferred. 5. … Be7 6. Bd3 0–0 7. 0–0 d×c4 8. B×c4 c5 9. Qe2 a6 10. Rd1 b5 11. Bd3
Bb7 12. e4 c×d4 13. N×d4 Ne5 14. Nb3 Better is 14. Bc2 (Em. Lasker). 14. ... N×d3 Better
is 14. ... b4 15. Nb1 N×d3 16. R×d3 Qc7 with a big advantage for Black. 15. R×d3 Qc7
16. e5 Nd5 17. Rg3 N×c3 18. R×c3 Qd7 19. Rg3 Rfd8 20. Bh6
g6 21. Be3 Qd5 22. Na5 Rac8 23. N×b7 Q×b7 24. Bh6 Qd5 wDr4wDkD
25. b3 (see diagram) DwDwgpDp
25. ... Qd4 Black has two interesting possibilities: 25. ... Bb4 pDwDpDpG
26. Bg5 Qd4 27. Rf1 Rd5 28. Bf6 Qd2 with advantage; or 25. ... DpDq)wDw
Rc5 26. Re3 Qd2 with advantage. 26. Rf1 Rd5 27. Re3 Ba3 wDwDwDwD
28. g3 Qb2 29. Re1 Rc2 30. Qf3 Be7 If 30. ... Q×a2? 31. Qf6 DPDwDw$w
Bf8 32. Rf3 Rd7 33. B×f8 K×f8 34. Qh8+ Ke7 35. Qg8 winning. PDwDQ)P)
31. R3e2 R×e2 32. R×e2 Qb1+ 33. Kg2 Bf8 34. Bf4 h6 35. h4 $wDwDwIw
b4 Interesting was 35. ... Bg7. 36. Qe4 Q×e4+ 37. R×e4 Kg7 After 25. b3
38. Rc4 Bc5 39. Kf3 g5 40. h×g5 h×g5 41. B×g5. Draw. ½–½.
After yet another draw in the third, in the fourth game, the fans at the Casino de la
Playa experienced a bit of panic when, on the demonstration chess board in the spectator’s
room, Lasker’s queen was moved to c6, which along with a rook at a7 seemed to give
the champion a decisive attack. The mood of the fans was restored when Capablanca
exchanged queens, whereupon the ghost of defeat turned away. The new draw displeased
those who traveled to the distant site of the match, as it was reflected in a Havana news-
paper (a clipping; source not identified; courtesy Juan Morgado) of the time: “When the
gallery saw that they drew one more game, someone asked: Until when? To everyone it
appears that this is too much wood [in Spanish, the word for a draw is ‘tablas,’ which also
means ‘plank’: thus the next play on words] and it is because the two champions are made
of ‘jiquí’ [a type of wood difficult to cut], that is, very hard to defeat.”
In his weekly chronicle Lasker addressed the same issue in a different tone:
Chess is approaching its perfection; in it, the elements of chance and uncertainty are disappear-
ing. Now everything is too well studied! The best movements of the Queen’s Gambit or the Ruy
Lopez opening are known, so that every chess player feels very safe. There was a time when it
was possible to find emotional moments; today the thrill of the unknown is gone [Mein
Weltkampf mit Capablanca, Berlin/Leipzig, 1922].
The fifth game was, for some people, the culminating moment of the match.

World Championship, 5th Game, Havana, 29 March 1921
1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. c4 e6 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3 Be7 6. Nc3 0–0 7. Rc1 b6 Preferred
nowadays are 7. ... c6, 7. … h6 and 7. … d×c4. 8. c×d5 e×d5 9. Qa4 c5 10. Qc6 Rb8 11. N×d5
If 11. Bf4 Bb7 12. Qa4 Ra8 13. Ba6 Qc8 14. B×b7 Q×b7 15. Ne5 N×e5 16. B×e5 Rac8 and
Black has no problems. 11. ... Bb7 Interesting is 11. ... N×d5 12. Q×d5 Bb7 13. B×e7 Q×e7
14. Qg5 Q×g5 15. N×g5 c×d4 (Capablanca recommended 15. … h6 16. Nf3 B×f3 17. g×f3
c×d4 18. Rc7 Rfd8 and the game is even) 16. Rd1 (if 16. e×d4 Rfe8+ 17. Kd2 Nf6 with posi-
tional compensation—Teichmann). 16. ... Nf6 17. R×d4 Rbc8 with counterplay (Kasparov).
12. N×e7+ Q×e7 13. Qa4 Rbc8 Better is 13. ... B×f3 14. g×f3 c×d4 15. Q×d4 Ne5 16. Be2
Rbd8 17. Qc3 Rd5 (Em. Lasker). 14. Qa3 Qe6 15. B×f6 Q×f6 16. Ba6 B×f3! A good exchange
sacrifice. If 16. ... c×d4 17. R×c8 R×c8 (17. … B×c8 18. N×d4 B×a6 19. Q×a6 Nc5 20. Qc4
h6 21. 0–0 Ne6 22. Rd1 Rd8 23. f3 Qe5 24. Qc3 Kh7 25. a3 Qc5 26. Qd3+ Kg8 27. Qe4 with
White advantage) 18. 0–0 with a clear White advantage. 17. B×c8 R×c8 18. g×f3 Q×f3
19. Rg1 Re8 20. Qd3 g6 21. Kf1 A bad move, Capablanca told Gelabert after the first
adjournment. Better seems 21. Rg3 Qh1+ 22. Qf1 Q×h2 23. Qh3 Q×h3 24. R×h3 c×d4
25. Rd1 Kg7 26. R×d4 Nf6 27. e4 g5 28. f3 h5 29. Kf2 h4 30. Rh1 with White advantage. 21. ...
Re4 22. Qd1 Better is 22. d×c5 22. ... Qh3+ 23. Rg2 Nf6 Better is 23. ... c×d4 24. e×d4
(24. Rc4!—Kasparov) 24. ... Nf6 25. Qb3 Qf5 26. Kg1 Nd5 27. Rd1 Kg7 28. a4 Nf4 29. f3
Qh3 30. Rf2 Ne2+ 31. Kh1 Ng3+ 32. Kg1 with an even game. 24. Kg1 c×d4 (see diagram)
25. Rc4! d×e3 26. R×e4 N×e4 But not 26. ... e×f2+
wDwDwDkD 27. R×f2 N×e4 28. Qd8+ Kg7 29. Qd4+ winning. 27. Qd8+
0wDwDpDp Kg7 28. Qd4+ Nf6 29. f×e3 Qe6 30. Rf2 g5 31. h4 g×h4
w0wDwhpD 32. Q×h4 Ng4 33. Qg5+ Kf8 34. Rf5 Better is 34. Rd2 f6
DwDwDwDw 35. Qf4 Kf7 36. e4 with advantage (Lasker). 34. ... h5 If 34. ...
wDw0rDwD Q×e3+ 35. Q×e3 N×e3 36. Rf2 and White wins (Lasker).
DwDw)wDq 35. Qd8+ Better is 35. Q×h5 Q×e3+ 36. Kg2 Qd2+ 37. Kg3
P)wDw)R)
Dw$QDwIw Nh6 38. Rd5 Qe3+ 39. Qf3 Qe6 40. Rg5 Ke7 41. b3 f5 42. Kh4
Nf7 (if 42. … Qf6 43. Qb7+ Kd8 44. Qb8+ Ke7 45. Q×a7+ Kf8
After 24. … c×d4 46. Qa8+ Ke7 47. Kh5 winning) 43. R×f5 winning. 35. ... Kg7
36. Qg5+ Kf8 37. Qd8+ Kg7 38. Qg5+ Kf8 39. b3 Stronger
was 39. Q×h5 and White should win. 39. ... Qd6 40. Qf4 Qd1+ 41. Qf1 Qd7 42. R×h5
N×e3 43. Qf3 Qd4 44. Qa8+ Ke7 45. Qb7+ Kf8? 45. ... Kd6 and Black has the possibility
of a draw. Also 45. ... Kf6 46. Qc6+ Ke7 and White cannot make any progress. 46. Qb8+
Black resigned. 1–0. If 46. ... Ke7 47. Qe5+ winning. This was the first Capablanca victory
in the match and also his first against Emanuel Lasker.
It was only after the victory of Capablanca in this game that the Cuban Tourism Com-
mission offered a bonus prize of 5,000 pesos (almost $65,000 in 2015), due to the attention
towards the country that the match had attracted. For this reason, the total purse increased
to 25,000 pesos ($321,000), the same amount in dollars, according to the official exchange
rates of foreign currencies in the country, established by President Menocal. As was noted
at the end of the match, each game cost 1,785.71 pesos ($23,000), excluding other expenses
incurred by the Casino de la Playa, the Union Club, the Havana Chess Club, or even Albear,
who paid out-of-pocket for the pleasure to serve as Lasker’s driver and host.
After the fifth game there were four draws, and then:
Emanuel Lasker–Capablanca [D61]

World Championship, 10th Game, Havana, 8 April 1921
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 0–0 6. Nf3 Nbd7 7. Qc2 c5 8. Rd1
Qa5 9. Bd3 Preferred nowadays is 9. c×d5 N×d5 10. B×e7 N×e7 11. Bd3 g6 12. 0–0 c×d4
13. N×d4 Nf6 14. Ne4 Nfd5 15. a3 with a better game for White. 9. ... h6 10. Bh4 c×d4
10. ... Nb6! (Alekhine). 11. e×d4 d×c4 12. B×c4 Nb6 13. Bb3
Bd7 14. 0–0 Rac8 15. Ne5 Bb5 16. Rfe1 Nbd5 (see diagram) wDrDw4kD
17. B×d5 Better is 17. B×f6 B×f6 (if 17. … N×f6 18. Ng6 0pDwgp0w
f×g6 19. R×e6 winning) 18. B×d5 e×d5 19. Qf5 B×e5. Apparently wDwDphw0
the best defense (Kasparov). 20. R×e5 (better is 20. d×e5 Bc6 1bDnHwDw
21. Rd4 with initiative). 20. ... Bc4 21. a3 Qb6 22. Rd2 with some wDw)wDwG
pressure (Kasparov). 17. ... N×d5 18. B×e7 N×e7 19. Qb3 Bc6 DBHwDwDw
20. N×c6 b×c6 21. Re5 Qb6 22. Qc2 Rfd8 23. Ne2 23. Na4
P)QDw)P)
DwDR$wIw
was the best move (Em. Lasker). Although after 23. ... Qb8
24. Rc5 Nf5 25. R×c6 R×c6 26. Q×c6 N×d4 27. Qc4 e5 Black After 16. … Nbd5
would have retained a microscopic plus (Kasparov). 23. ... Rd5
24. R×d5 24. Re3 Nf5 25. Rb3 Qd8 26. Rb4 (Lasker). But after 26. ... Qd7 White has a
difficult position (Panov). 24. ... c×d5 25. Qd2 Nf5 26. b3 26. g3 (Lasker). 26. ... h5 27. h3
“A completely bad move, allowing Black to paralyze White pawns” (Lasker). But after 27. Ng3
N×g3 28. h×g3 Qc7 White, with his weak pawns, would all the same face a cheerless defense
(Kasparov). 27. ... h4 28. Qd3 Rc6 29. Kf1 g6 30. Qb1 Qb4 31. Kg1 a5 32. Qb2 a4 33. Qd2
Q×d2 34. R×d2 a×b3 35. a×b3 Rb6 36. Rd3 Ra6 37. g4 If 37. Nc3 Ra1+ 38. Kh2 Rc1
39. b4 Rc2 40. Kg1 Rb2 41. b5 Rb4 winning. 37. ... h×g3 38. f×g3 Ra2 39. Nc3 Rc2 40. Nd1
Ne7 41. Nc3 Rc1+ 42. Kf2 Nc6 43. Nd1 Rb1 If 43. ... Nb4 44. Rd2 Rb1 45. Nb2 R×b2?
46. R×b2 Nd3+ 47. Ke2 N×b2 48. Kd2 Kf8 49. Kc2 Nc4 50. b×c4 d×c4 51. Kc3 draws.
44. Ke2 Better is 44. Ke1 Na5 45. Kd2 R×b3 46. R×b3 N×b3+ but Black is winning. 44. ...
R×b3 45. Ke3 Rb4 46. Nc3 Ne7 47. Ne2 Nf5+ 48. Kf2 g5 49. g4 Nd6 50. Ng1 Ne4+
51. Kf1 If 51. Kf3 Rb1 52. Kg2 Rb2+ 53. Kf1 Ra2 54. Re3 Kg7 55. Nf3 f6 56. Ne1 f5 57. Nf3
f4 winning. 51. ... Rb1+ 52. Kg2 Rb2+ 53. Kf1 Rf2+ 54. Ke1 Ra2 55. Kf1 Kg7 56. Re3
Kg6 57. Rd3 f6 58. Re3 Kf7 59. Rd3 Ke7 60. Re3 Kd6 61. Rd3 Rf2+ 62. Ke1 Rg2 63. Kf1
Ra2 64. Re3 e5 65. Rd3 e×d4 66. R×d4 If 66. Ne2 Kc5 67. N×d4 Kc4 68. Rd1 Nc3 win-
ning. 66. ... Kc5 67. Rd1 d4 68. Rc1+ Kd5 White resigned. 0–1.
In his writings, Capablanca considered that this victory was one of his greatest sporting
achievements. The match was now 2–0 in his favor and this helped increase the influx of
visitors to the Casino de la Playa. The newspaper El Heraldo de Cuba noted that groups of
young ladies flocked to the place, not so much because of the casino roulette, but to be seen
by the most esteemed of Cuban bachelors. One of them, Gloria Simoni Betancourt, had
come as far as from the city of Camagüey, 350 miles east of Havana. She was one of the few
who had the joy of being introduced to the chess player, thanks to Gonzalo de Quesada
Miranda, a friend of her father and son of the diplomat Gonzalo de Quesada Aróstegui,
who did it at her request. The Quesada, Simoni and Márquez Sterling families were all from
that same locality of eastern Cuba.18

1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 e6 3. c4 Nf6 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3 Be7 6. Nc3 0–0 7. Rc1 Re8 8. Qc2
c6 9. Bd3 d×c4 10. B×c4 Nd5 11. B×e7 R×e7 Better is 11. ... Q×e7 12. 0–0 N×c3 13. Q×c3
e5. 12. 0–0 Nf8 Better is 12. ... N×c3 13. Q×c3 b6. 13. Rfd1 Bd7 14. e4 Nb6 15. Bf1 Rc8
16. b4 Be8 17. Qb3 Rec7 18. a4 Ng6 19. a5 Nd7 20. e5 b6 21. Ne4 Rb8 22. Qc3 Better is
22. Qa3 (Kasparov). 22. ... Nf4 23. Nd6 Nd5 24. Qa3 f6 24. ... Qe7 25. Bc4 Nf8 26. Ba2
f6 (Panov). 25. N×e8 Q×e8 26. e×f6 g×f6 (see diagram)
27. b5! Rbc8 28. b×c6 R×c6 29. R×c6 R×c6 30. a×b6 w4wDqDkD
a×b6 31. Re1 Interesting is 31. Bb5 Rc7 32. Re1 Qf8 33. Qb2 0w4nDwDp
Qe7 34. Qb3 Qd6 35. Nd2 Rc3 36. Qa4 Rc7 37. Ne4 Qe7 38. Bc4 w0pDp0wD
Nf8 39. Qb3 with White advantage. 31. ... Qc8 32. Nd2 Nf8 )wDnDwDw
32. ... Rc3 33. Qa1 (33. Qd6 Nf8 34. Ne4 Rc1! with the exchange w)w)wDwD
of rooks and a probable draw—Kasparov) 33. ... Nf8 34. Ne4 Rc7 !wDwDNDw
35. g3 White has a marked advantage (Kasparov). 33. Ne4 Qd8
wDwDw)P)
Dw$RDBIw
34. h4 Rc7 34. ... h6 (Capablanca). 35. Qb3 Rg7 36. g3 Ra7
37. Bc4 Ra5 38. Nc3! N×c3 39. Q×c3 Kf7 40. Qe3 Qd6 After 26. … g×f6
41. Qe4 Ra4 If 41. ... Ra7 42. d5 e5 43. Bf1. 42. Qb7+ Kg6
43. Qc8 Stronger was 43. h5+ Kh6 (if 43. … K×h5 44. Qg7 winning) 44. Qf7 Qd8 45. Bd3
R×d4 46. R×e6 R×d3 47. R×f6+ Kg5 48. Qg7+ Ng6 49. R×g6+ Kf5 50. Qf7+ Ke5 51. Qe6+
Kd4 52. Rg4+ Kc3 53. Rc4+ Kb3 54. Rd4+ winning. 43. ... Qb4 If 43. ... Qa3 44. Re4 Ra8
45. Qc6 Ra7 46. Kg2 Qe7 47. Rg4+ Kf7 48. d5 winning; if 43. ... Ra7 44. B×e6 N×e6
45. R×e6 Q×d4 with an even game (Lasker). But White can play 46. Qg8+ Rg7 47. Qe8+
Kh6 48. Qf8 Kg6 49. h5+ winning. 44. Rc1 Qe7 Or 44. ... Ra7 45. B×e6 N×e6 46. Q×e6
Q×d4 47. Rc6 Kg7 48. R×b6 winning. 45. Bd3+ Kh6 If 45. ... f5 46. B×f5+ K×f5
47. Qc2+ with a winning position. 46. Rc7 Ra1+ 47. Kg2 Qd6 48. Q×f8+ Black resigned.
1–0.
Emanuel Lasker–Capablanca [C66]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 d6 5. d4 Bd7 6. Nc3 Be7 7. Re1 e×d4 8. N×d4
0–0 9. Bf1 Re8 10. f3 Bf8 Black can equalize with 10. ... d5! 11. e×d5 (if 11. N×d5 N×d5
12. e×d5 Bc5 13. d×c6 R×e1 14. Q×e1 B×d4+ 15. Be3 with an even game—Keres) 11. ...
Bc5 12. R×e8+ B×e8 13. d×c6 Q×d4+ 14. Q×d4 B×d4+ 15. Kh1 B×c6 with an even game.
Moritz–Wagner, Frankfurt 1923. 11. Bg5 h6 12. Bh4 g6?! 12. ... Be7!? is also suggested by
new analysis. 13. Nd5 Bg7 14. Nb5 (see diagram)
14. ... g5 Better seems 14. ... Rc8 15. Nbc3 g5 16. Bf2 N×d5 rDw1rDkD
17. N×d5 Ne7. 15. Nd×c7 g×h4 16. N×a8 Q×a8 17. Nc7 Qd8 0p0bDpgw
18. N×e8 N×e8 Now White is a little better. 19. Rb1 If 19. c3 wDn0whp0
Be5 20. Qd2 Qf6 21. Qf2 Qf4 22. g3 h×g3 23. h×g3 Q×g3+ DNDNDwDw
24. Q×g3+ B×g3 25. Red1 with an even game. 19. ... Be6 20. c3 wDwDPDwG
B×a2 21. Ra1 Be6 22. Qd2 a6 23. Qf2 h5 Perhaps better is 23. ... DwDwDPDw
Bf6. 24. f4 Bh6 25. Be2 Better is 25. Bd3 and if 25. ... h3 26. Kh1
P)PDwDP)
$wDQ$BIw
(Lasker). 25. ... Nf6 26. Q×h4 N×e4? Better is 26. ... Qb6+
27. Qf2 Q×f2+ 28. K×f2 B×f4 29. g3 Bd2 30. Red1 N×e4+ After 14. Nb5
31. Kg2 Ne5. 27. Q×d8+ N×d8 28. B×a6! Now White is better.
28. ... d5 29. Be2 B×f4 30. B×h5 Bc7 31. Rad1 White is still better, but a draw was agreed.
½–½.
Fourteenth game: Lasker obtained an advantage in the opening that manifested itself
in his preponderance in the center and a more harmonious development of his pieces. A
tense moment occurred around the 29th move.
Emanuel Lasker–Capablanca [C66]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 Nf6 4. 0–0 d6 5. d4 Bd7 6. Nc3 wDbDrDkD
Be7 7. B×c6 B×c6 8. Qd3 e×d4 9. N×d4 Bd7 10. Bg5 0–0 DpDw4p0w
11. Rae1 h6 12. Bh4 Nh7 Better is 12. ... c6 13. Nb3 Be6 14. Rd1 pDp0whw0
Re8. 13. B×e7 Q×e7 14. Nd5 Qd8 15. c4 Re8 Now White is a DwDwDPDw
little better. 16. f4 c6 17. Nc3 Qb6 18. b3 Rad8 19. Kh1 19. h3 wDPHPDw1
(Lasker). 19. ... Nf6 20. h3 Bc8 21. Rd1 21. g4 instead was rec- DPHQDRDP
ommended. 21. ... Re7 22. Rfe1 Rde8 23. Re2 Qa5 24. Rf1 Qh5 PDwDRDPD
25. Kg1 a6 26. Rff2 Qg6 27. Rf3 Qh5 27. ... N×e4? 28. f5 win- DwDwDwIw
ning. 28. f5 Qh4 (see diagram) After 28. … Qh4
29. Kh2? A big mistake due to the lack of time. After 29. Rf1
N×e4 30. Nf3 Qf4 31. Ne1 Qh4 32. Nf3 Qf4 the game is even. wDwHwDwi
29. ... Ng4+ 30. Kh1 Ne5 31. Qd2 N×f3 32. N×f3 Qf6 33. a4 DwDRDwDw
g6 34. f×g6 f×g6 35. Re3 Bf5 36. Qd3 g5 37. Nd2 Bg6 38. b4 wDwDwDw0
Qe6 39. b5 a×b5 40. a×b5 Ra8 41. Qb1 Qe5 42. Qe1 Kh7 Dw0NDwDw
43. b×c6 b×c6 44. Qg3 Q×g3 45. R×g3 Ra3 46. Kh2 Rb7 47. c5 wDwDbDw0
d×c5 48. Nc4 Ra1 49. Ne5 Rc1 50. h4 Re7 Or 50. ... Rb3 winning. DwDwDwDK
51. N×c6 Re6 52. Nd8 g×h4 53. Rd3 Rf6 54. Rd7+ Kh8 55. Nd5 wDwDwDPD
Rff1 56. Kh3 B×e4 White resigned. 0–1 (see diagram) Dw4wDrDw
Final position
After the fourteenth game, Lasker did not show up in the
Casino de la Playa, although by then he had already used all of his three free days set out in
the terms of the competition. There is no evidence for the claim Dr. Hannak made in his
book Emanuel Lasker: The Life of a Chess Master, that Lasker had requested the match to be
moved to the United States. Something like that requires months of preparation, and at that
time, no American club had made a proposal to this regard. Not to mention that all the
money came from Cuba, so the suggestion that someone would pay for a show carried out
in another place is highly unlikely. During the weekend Ponce tried to persuade Lasker to
continue playing, even after providing him with the option to interrupt the process for
several days. But the German master had already made a determination to end the match
and resign the title, although this fact was not yet of public knowledge:
AT THE REQUEST OF DR . L ASKER , THE L ASKER–CAPABLANCA

MATCH HAS BEEN P OSTPONED UNTIL TUESDAY
(By the Associated Press)
HAVANA, April 23—Today, it was agreed by common accord that the fifteenth game of the
Chess Championship will be postponed until next Tuesday because of the indisposition that
afflicts Dr. Emanuel Lasker. Mr. José R. Capablanca did not submit any objection, refusing to
claim the Championship under previously established rules and declaring that he didn’t want a
victory which was not won over the board. The request for a postponement by Dr. Lasker has
been made after the champion noticed that he has not played with his usual expertise and bril-
liance, because of the climate. Dr. Lasker has already used the privilege of three rest days that
each player can enjoy under the conditions of the match. Of the 24 games, 14 have been already
played. Capablanca has won 4 and the outcomes of the 10 remaining have been draws.19
The explanation provided to the press was not true. It was a means to buy time, trying
to save face for Lasker, and not inform the public or the press what was really happening.
Lasker made things more complicated by attending to the lunches that his compatriots gave
him during Saturday and Sunday, or visiting picturesque places of Havana with Albear. Since
Capablanca in turn refused to accept that early capitulation, and did not even attend to the
game on Tuesday, April 26, so as not to obtain a victory by default, the situation became
untenable for Ponce, Márquez Sterling and other figures of the Havana Chess Club.
The next day, newspapers from everywhere were trying to understand what was really
happening, as the correspondent of the New York Times in Havana tried to explain in the
April 27 edition:
MAY RESUME PLAY FOR CHESS CROWN

Officials in Charge of Match Are Trying to Persuade Lasker to Continue
HAVANA, Cuba, April 26.—Neither Capablanca nor Lasker appeared tonight for the fifteenth
game of the world’s chess championship match. Nothing official has been given out by those in
charge of the match regarding its continuance, and it is understood they are endeavoring to per-
suade Lasker to finish the series.
It has been reported that Dr. Lasker wished to resign the match because of illness.
Neither contestant had made any announcement of his plans up to a late hour tonight, nor
would the members of the committee say exactly what the status of the interrupted series was. It
is known, however, that Dr. Lasker had sent a letter to the committee in charge. The committee
has the request under advisement.
Fourteen games of the twenty-four game series had been played when the interruption came.
Of these Capablanca won four and the remaining ten were drawn. On Saturday night, Dr.
Lasker asked the fifteenth game to be postponed until Tuesday evening, and reports became cur-
rent that he wished to resign the entire series.
This was opposed by Capablanca and the committee, the Cuban declaring that he wished to
win the title over the board and not by default.
It was necessary that both Ponce and Márquez Sterling convince Capablanca to accept
Lasker’s surrender, because there was no other honorable outcome, except the last and out-
landish extreme of considering a breach of contract by Lasker and not paying him the remain-
ing money, or deducting the part corresponding to games not played.
The correspondent of the New York Times in Havana sniffed out those discussions
behind closed doors in his note about the end of the match:
CAPABLANCA WINNER AS L ASKER RESIGNS
Cuban Wins World’s Chess Championship in 14 Games—Has 4 Victories, 10 Draws
Illness Cause of Action
German Master Physically Unable to Continue—Purse Divided
as If All Games Played.
HAVANA, Cuba, April 27.—The Tournament Committee in charge of the international chess
championship match between Dr. Emanuel Lasker of Germany and José R. Capablanca, the
Cuban expert, decided today to grant Dr. Lasker’s request to resign the series and concede Capa-
blanca the world’s championship title. The Cuban scored four victories and drew in ten games of
the fourteen games played. Dr. Lasker gave illness as the reason for his desire to cease playing.
The $25,000 [about $322,000 in 2015] involved in the match is being divided among the
players as though the full twenty-four games of the series had been played.
Fortunately, calmer minds managed to prevail over those who felt cheated by Lasker.
Cassel wrote in the introduction to the book of the match written by Capablanca:
If this match had been played anywhere except in Havana, it is very doubtful if Dr. Lasker would
have received the full amount of the sum guaranteed to him in the articles. It was no fault of the
committee that they were deprived of witnessing the full number of games, namely, twenty-four,
and they might rightly have refused to pay Dr. Lasker the full amount. There was a rumor afloat
that the committee would insist upon a reduction of the fee, but I am happy to say that it was
altogether groundless, the committee never intending to thus darken their well-known generosity.
According to Dr. Albear, it was Márquez Sterling20 who convinced Capablanca, making
him understand that his victory was unique in the annals of chess, because never before had
any challenger defeated the monarch without suffering a single loss. Albear added that, reluc-
tantly, Capablanca not only accepted, but he even visited Lasker in his guest house. In fact,
the meeting took place at the Union Club, on Wednesday April 27, in the small reception
room of the institution. According to Cassel, it was there that Capablanca was declared to
be the winner and the new world champion. To break the tension Lasker praised Márquez
Sterling’s practical way of dressing, as he was wearing one of the typical Cuban “guayaberas,”
while the rest of those present, including Capablanca and himself, wore three-piece suits,
very much in fashion then.
What was not published then is that Capablanca had refused to attend any public ceremony
for the transference of the title, as the directors of the Havana Chess Club wanted. The man-
agement of the Casino de la Playa, which had invested heavily in the match, also wanted to close
it with a formal reception. But they could not convince the new champion, who felt outraged
by Lasker’s behavior. On April 28, the newspapers of the world announced the exchange of
letters between Lasker and Judge Alberto Ponce, in which Lasker resigned the title.
Havana, April 27, 1921.
Judge Alberto Ponce
Havana Cuba
Esteemed Sir:
In your role as referee of the match, allow me to address this letter to you offering to resign
the match.
I would thank you if you would be kind enough to make clear to me whether this determina-
tion is accepted by my adversary, the committee, and yourself.
Yours sincerely,
Emanuel Lasker.
The answer said:
Havana, April 27, 1921.
Dr. Emanuel Lasker
Havana, Cuba.
Esteemed Sir:
In answer to your letter addressed to me in which you express your desire to resign the match
with Mr. Capablanca, I have the pleasure to notify you that Mr. Capablanca, as well as the
organizing committee of the match, accept your proposition, to which I also give my own
approval. In consequence of which the said match is hereby terminated.
Yours truly
Alberto Ponce.21
On April 30, Lasker dated in Havana the last of his chronicles to De Telegraaf (translated
by Dr. Maxwell Bokofzey, American Chess Bulletin, May-June 1922, pages 85–87):
This match, presenting as it did greater difficulties than any previous one, was a classic treat for
me. The outward conditions, to be sure, were unfavorable, but Capablanca’s chess represented
real lessons. His games are clear, logical and robust. There is nothing secretive, artificial or
affected about them. From his moves you glean his ideas even where he intends to be crafty.
Whether he is playing for a draw or win, or is afraid of losing, his every move proclaims aloud
what he feels. In spite of it, his moves, while not inscrutable, are by no means obvious, and often
deep. Capablanca favors neither complication, nor adventure. He wants to know where he steps.
His is the depth of a mathematician, not a poet’s. His mind is Roman, not Greek.
The combinations of Anderssen or Chigorin were extremely individual and possible only at
definite moments. Those of Capablanca do not depend on time. In almost every case he can,
with impunity, delay them. He hardly needs to modify them, since they are the product of a gen-
eral principle. Anderssen and Chigorin were guided by incidental occurrences; Capablanca con-
forms to the permanent characteristics of the position. He puts stock only in stability, such as
the solidity of his position, the pressure upon a weak spot, and he distrusts the accidental, a mate
problem, for instance.
Mason and Schlechter were precursors of Capablanca. He exceeds them, however, because he
possesses, in addition, the gift of devising subtle and keen combinations, a trait but rarely
revealed by Mason and Schlechter. In the fifth game of the match Capablanca, by such a combi-
nation, refuted an opening the possibility of which had been problematical for many years. You
cannot scare Capablanca with spurious or suspicious-looking material. Given sufficient time for
reflection, he minutely examines the combination of his adversary and exposes his weakness. He
plays as though he distrusted the style of Anderssen and Chigorin; more than that, as though he
detested and, maybe perhaps, feared it.
To use his brand of chess was quite agreeable. I was glad to find him an opponent of mettle,
albeit circumstances did not permit me to play in accordance with my plan. Under the influence
of climate and diet my powers diminished steadily. My positional judgment, the accuracy of my
combinations, in fact the mere beholding of the position, were enfeebled, confused and, as I
became fatigued, nearly demolished. I simply could not get away from this predicament; though
it failed to demoralize me, it had purely physical causes: Excessive perspiration, loss of weight,
inability to sleep soundly and hence, to concentrate for an extensive period. Although the effect
extended to my mentality, it did not influence my disposition, determination and self-respect.
Realizing that my health was menaced with permanent injury, I became alarmed. However, I
would not rely upon my subjective impression, so I consulted a physician, a Cuban, the family
doctor of mutual friends. He was quite learned and humanitarian and thoroughly familiar with
his native island. I had to talk to him in Spanish, reinforced with bits of French and Latin, all of
which I command but insufficiently. Nevertheless, we conversed at length and with interest.
When I had explained the symptoms of my trouble to him, the doctor most urgently advised
rest. He declared: “There is too much noise, light and heat for you here. The sunlight with us is
a great deal more active than in the North. The result is that the human body radiates and con-
sumes more energy than in darker and colder climates.” “Does that, then, account for my vehe-
ment and instinctive craving for rest, doctor? Is that the reason that my powers refuse to
function, however hard I try?” “Certainly! You need rest. Your brain does not respond to the
demands you impose upon it.” He entered into many details. His explanations confirmed my
experiences. He analyzed my attacks of dizziness and showed me why I was unable, after several
hours of playing, to employ positional judgment or even accurately see the pieces.
However, as I explained previously, these facts do not clear up everything. They were supple-
mented by an inherent defect in my chess play. For years I did not do a thing to improve my
playing strength. On the contrary, I actually hindered the development of my style. I stood in
need of my mental powers, most compellingly and unrestrictedly used for other purposes. Fur-
thermore, I was unwilling to aid the speedy progress of chess, since I held that this speedy
process imperils the very life of the game. I beheld how chess was losing its charm of adventure
and sport. I saw its problematical nature changing, more and more, into certainty and, thereby,
the game sinking to the level of mechanics and mnemonics. My heart grew sad because of the
swift advance of this evolution, which appeared to me needlessly rapid. I would not keep pace
with it, comprehending all the while that ultimately, it was as inevitable as it is inevitable that
man must die. This loss of years I could not retrieve during the match; for the time was scant
and the intrinsic conditions unfavorable.
Capablanca on the other hand seems to personify the automatic style. And now that I have
battled against him and thus felt its vitality, I’m reconciled. I see now that this style likewise is
destined to run its course of development and, with that, to offer problems. That reassures me,
because I cherish whatever is unexplored.
Of course chess is not going to remain problematical much longer. The old game approaches
its hour of destiny. Chess in its present form will die soon of the “draws.” The victory of cer-
tainty and mechanism, inevitable as it is, is going to seal the fate of chess. Then you will have to
invent new rules. Perhaps you will have to change the setting of the pieces and modify the grada-
tions of “win” or “lose” in order to increase difficulties and create new mysteries. For you cannot
afford to let the old game die.
Is Capablanca the ideal, the consummate chess master? I do not think so. All the same he
deserves to be the world champion. His is a style of an original stamp, accurate, inventive, logi-
cal, and energetic. Out of every combat he will emerge with honors.
Capablanca’s style astounds by its logic. It is a style begotten of sheer self-exertion with tremen-
dous willpower, that fails to hit upon the domain of politics or business, where it rightfully
belongs, but accidentally happens into the realms of chess spurred by youthful ambitions, and is
going to labor enormously to overpower a—to him incomprehensible—material resistance. Heed-
less of didactic comment he is bound to investigate the intrinsic nature of this matter. Such, then,
was Capablanca’s evolution. The result is a style still exhibiting the calluses of creative toil, a style
shaped by its goal. Capablanca, true son of a race directed toward the practical, allots to himself
the task to win against the proper opponent at the proper time; neither more nor less. Well, there
are other aims worthy of chessic reflection. For all that, though, the goal before Capablanca’s
eyes, legitimately pursued, is deserving of respect and its attainment as a fashion is of interest.
Purely tactical is the machinery of which Capablanca avails himself most generally: Deploy-
ment of his pieces in the center of the board; tediously prepared exchange of pawns. In that
manner he effects an alteration of the situation which he can utilize fully owing to the central
grouping of his pieces.
Capablanca’s fantasy is bridled. He wants to understand. Let his opponent grope, he is going
to see just where he steps. We are accustomed to imagine that all great geniuses are gropers, who,
seer-like, behold the things hidden from the view of others. Probably Capablanca suppressed this
trait of clairvoyance in him for the perils of failure are exceedingly great. Again, it is possible
that, his acumen being of a practical and logical mold, he does not desire to be a seer except in
that one respect. For all that it seems to me Capablanca’s fantasy does not have a great and free
flight.
When Steinitz realized he was lost in the last game of our match, he rose exclaiming: Three
cheers for the new world champion! I was moved by these words. It is for me a matter of pride to
repeat them now to the chess world [American Chess Bulletin, May-June 1922, pages 85–87;
other fragments were published in Partidas Clásicas de Capablanca by Ståhlberg and Alles
Monasterio, Buenos Aires, 1943].
In the majority of places, it was then taken for granted that the reign of the Cuban
would last for many years. “Capablanca is the player extraordinary,” wrote the American
Chess Bulletin (May-June 1921). “His skill, endurance and supreme generalship carried him
to the heights. There he sits enthroned. ’Twill take a mighty man indeed to bring him
down.”22
10. The Crowned King
Now that there was a new King, the world wanted to know more about him.
The media highlighted not his chess skill but his human attributes. His presence, they
wrote, was different from the previous one. He did not wear glasses nor have a beard. Nor
was he hidden by a cloud of smoke, and he looked more like a successful businessman than
an old hermit. Others praised him for shaving properly, dressing elegantly and having the
mold of a patriarch. He could even speak English fluently without an accent. According to
the New York Times, May 1, 1921, Capablanca was unlike old chess masters.
There was no fuss or fanfare in Havana after Capablanca’s triumph over Lasker. He
simply moved out from the footlights and did not even write for a local newspaper a summary
of the match, still upset over the way the confrontation ended. Capablanca never really
explained the reason of his victory until the end of his match against Alekhine, when he told
the Havana newspaper El Mundo (December 28, 1927): “A curious phenomenon occurs
when I play against Lasker. His quality as a fighter and his ardor to win even in a draw posi-
tion, irritate me from the chess point of view, but this increases my efficiency at the board,
and in such circumstances the fighting spirit is aroused in me.” In another moment, he said:
“I beat him with his own arms.” That’s it. No more explanations about the biggest triumph
in his life.
He wanted to be alone, but immediately after his victory, a lot of letters reached the
new monarch asking him to visit different cities in Cuba or abroad, all of which he refused
discreetly. The Cuban House of Representatives approved a bill by which it would give him
an annuity of 5,000 pesos (nearly $60,000 in 2015), but the proposal arrived late, because
the collapse of sugar prices brought on the so-called “lean cows” era. In one of his first exec-
utive orders after he came to power on May 20, 1921, the new Cuban president Alfredo
Zayas vetoed the bill.
After almost a year and a half of difficult negotiations with Lasker and the games of
the world championship, Capablanca wanted to enjoy his glory. But before the end of 1921,
Rubinstein and Alekhine challenged him for a new encounter at the summit. In his reply to
the Polish master, he wrote:
Havana, September 7, 1921
Mr. A. Rubinstein
Dear Sir:
Two days ago I received your formal challenge to play a match for the world’s chess champi-
onship. It will give me great pleasure to defend my title against you. I shall send my conditions in
a short time. I drew them up after my match with Dr. Lasker and I am now trying to have them
255
The end of bachelorhood. On December 29, 1921, Capablanca married Gloria Simoni Betan-
court. He had met her again after the championship, at the house of the son of the diplomat
Gonzalo de Quesada. From the badly damaged original text (not shown; this is a typewriter copy
made October 7, 1968) it is known that Domingo A. Pérez, a priest from the Order of Preachers,
presided over the wedding ceremony at the chapel of the Episcopal Palace of Havana, seat of the
Archbishop of Havana (author’s collection).
accepted by the U.S. Chess Association as the official rules to govern all future championship
matches.
I consider the proposed rules very fair both to the masters and the chess public in general. I
trust you will find them so.
Yours faithfully,
J.R. Capablanca.1
Capablanca received Alekhine’s challenge in November of the same year. His response
was to inform the Russian of his prior commitment with Rubinstein, as well as the term of
a year so the Polish master could fulfill the economic requirements. Alekhine made reference
to this in a letter to Capablanca on November 28, 1923, published in the American Chess
Bulletin, December 1923, page 187. It was in this same issue where the “London Rules” first
appeared to the public.
Despite not accepting a tour around Cuba similar to the one in 1912, Capablanca agreed
to visit the city of Colón, in Matanzas province, on July 29. This was a somewhat enigmatic
trip, because this small city was not one of the major chess venues in Cuba. At that time, an
incident happened in Colón that could have turned tragic. Too many people were in the second
floor of a wooden building, attending a tribute to Capablanca by the town’s civic association,
when the floor of the room began to collapse. Those present barely had time to evacuate. It
was hinted that the reason for the visit of this throng to Colón is that Capablanca was vaca-
tioning near by, in the thermal baths of San Miguel de los Baños. The sparse chronicles of the
event did not mention that he was accompanied, but it is difficult to imagine him vacationing
alone in an exotic bath place. A photograph of the event before the collapse of the floor shows
him in a group alongside a beautiful young woman who was identified as Balada Gómez.2
It was almost certainly one of his last adventures as a bachelor. In those months Capa-
blanca used to attend a social gathering organized by Gonzalo de Quesada y Miranda at his
home every Thursday. In one of these gatherings, he met again with Gloria Simoni Betan-
court, the same young woman who went with her sisters and friends to see him playing
during his match against Lasker. According to the account of another of his granddaughters,
Gloria Palacios Capablanca, “When my grandfather saw my grandmother, he fell madly in
love with her and there began the romance.”3 Not even the prestige of Capablanca was suffi-
cient to persuade the Simonis to allow their daughter go out alone with him in their courtship
stage. (His reputation as a Casanova did not help matters.) Testimonies of their granddaugh-
ters relate that they had to go accompanied by Amalia and Esperanza, Gloria’s sisters, as
chaperones when the world’s chess champion drove his convertible to see his fiancée in the
house of her Havana uncles. His status as one of the most eligible bachelors of Cuba came
to an end not much later, on December 29, 1921, when he married Gloria in the Chapel of
the Episcopal Palace, seat of the Archbishop of Havana.4 The bride was part of one of the
historical families of the island. Her aunt Amalia Simoni was the widow of one of the main
heroes of the island’s struggle for independence, Major General Ignacio Agramonte y Loinaz,
who had played a pivotal role in the uprising of the province of Camagüey in 1868 and died
in combat on May 11, 1873. Her mother, Angela, was part of the large clan Betancourt, which
counted among its members one of the most venerable Cuban patricians, the former president
of the Republic in arms, Salvador Cisneros Betancourt, Marquis of Santa Lucía.
In the middle of the comings and goings of the wedding of his brother Ramiro, sched-
uled for December 12, and his own on the 29th of the same month, Capablanca found time
on December 26 to respond to a criticism of Blackburne that appeared in the British
newspaper The Observer (December 4, 1921) on the occasion of the Briton’s 80th birthday.
Interviewed by Brian Harley, the veteran master referred to the games of the Capablanca–
Lasker match as “superior wood shifting.” The Cuban answered: “As I often suspect, are
the old players unable to understand the superior strategy of modern masters? It seems that
the difficult art of accumulating small advantages and turning the slightest slip of the oppo-
nent into a won game is not properly understood by them” (The Observer, January 15, 1922,
page 7).
While Capablanca’s exploits on the board had raised again the old sheen enjoyed by his
surname in the 18th century, his wedding with Gloria opened to him the doors of the circle
of families of greater pedigree and lineage in Cuba, although not of the richest. It is likely
that by then, the previously extensive personal assets of the ancestors of his wife had disap-
peared or diminished as a result of the seizures that Spain made in both Cuban independence
wars, 1868 and 1895, against the families of the insurgents. His union with Gloria did not
lead Capablanca to the top of the Cuban aristocracy, because by then it was formed by indi-
viduals or families with huge fortunes, whose intimate circles he could only observe as a
member of the Union Club, but the marriage did show the symbiosis that occurred after the
Cuban war of independence, when a new nation was founded: he, a descendant of Spanish
military; she, niece by law of one of the most illustrious generals of the insurgents.
Until the day of the event, the Capablanca-Simoni marriage did not cause a great display
of information in the newspapers of the Cuban capital. Diario de la Marina, in its section
“Habaneras” of December 17, mentioned it as something that would happen soon, but with
a wrong date: “On New Year’s Day, we will also have the wedding of our chess champion
José Raúl Capablanca and the pretty lady from Camagüey, Gloria Simoni.” It was in this
note that it was given to understand that Capablanca was previously married: he was referred
to as a “reoffender,” which was not true. Juan Corzo was no more forthcoming, but pompous
and epigrammatic in El Fígaro, November 27, 1921: “We should disclose in this section two
news items of our young and glorious champion, which is also of the whole world, José Raúl
Capablanca. First, the unbeaten at the board surrendered to the child god who plays blind.
Capablanca has asked the hand of Miss Gloria Simoni, a beautiful flower from Camagüey’s
delightful garden, and surely their wedding should not wait for a long time.”
The biggest chronicle about the wedding was published in Diario de la Marina (Decem-
ber 29, 1921, page 12) with a headline across the front page of the sports section: “The Chess
World Champion Will Marry Tonight.” It was written by Guillermo Pi with the clarification
that it was “José Raúl Capablanca’s last interview as a bachelor.” In it Capablanca correctly
predicted that Lasker would return to the board in a year or two, although he recognized
the German master “had not communicated it to anybody. But because of his somewhat
restless character and always demonstrated desire of wanting to be the first by his merits, it
is easy to guess that this will induce him to return to the great struggles of chess where he
has been world champion for 26 consecutive years.”
It is little known that in this interview Capablanca said that he would play against
Rubinstein or Alekhine “according to how they ended in the tournament,” in a reference to
the next competition in London, 1922. However, he had already accepted the challenge of
the Polish master, as long as he would meet the economic requirements that were later
expressed in the “London Rules.” In the same article, Pi revealed that Capablanca and his
wife would pass their “sweet honeymoon” in Majana Farm, owned by General Freyre de
Andrade, in the town of Campo Florido, amid gentle hills located near the beaches of Gua-
nabo and Santa María, on the north coast of Cuba, about 15 miles east from the city of
Havana. This was the same farm where Capablanca secluded himself before his match with
Lasker to study chess and rest, an episode very little known.
In December 1921, G. Bells & Sons, in England, and Harcourt Brace Co., in the United
States, published Chess Fundamentals. The American Chess Bulletin (December 1921, pages
201–202), had previously published a detailed review of My Chess Career with a negative
view “because of the decided emphasis placed upon the Ego.” This time it was highlighted
that “Capablanca goes far to disarm his critics for in Part 2 he gives the details of no fewer
than six of the games in which he was defeated.” The magazine did not lose the opportunity
to point out that for the first time “the chess public is afforded an opportunity of obtaining
an intimate glimpse of the inner workings of the brilliantly logical mind that made him
master of so complicated a problem as the study and practice of the ancient and ‘royal’ game
of chess.” The book, added the review, could be acquired at the cost of $2.60 (about $35 in
2015) including shipping costs. To Capablanca, Chess Fundamentals, his main literary legacy
in the field of chess, was the culmination of a perfect year.
On January 31, 1922, aboard the Havana–Key West ferry, Capablanca departed to the
United States accompanied for the first time by his wife Gloria. The shuttle was a new path
to the United States that opened on January 22, 1912, in connection with the coming of
operations of the Key West–Miami–New York train. Capablanca used it on many occasions
instead of the three-day journey by boat between the Cuban capital and Manhattan, espe-
cially when his destination was not the New York metropolis, but an intermediate city, or
one in the American Midwest.
Such was the case on this occasion; perhaps because he wanted to impress Gloria with
what he was able to do in chess, he faced, in Cleveland on February 4, the highest number
of boards until then in his record: 103, with the almost unbelievable result of 102 victories
and 1 draw. One of the witnesses, J.B. Clough, relayed to the American Chess Bulletin (Feb-
ruary 1922, page 22): “I saw him frequently playing two boards at one time with his right
and left hand.” Clough considered that if there had been more space the champion of the
world would have been able to face 30 boards more. The exhibition lasted until 4:00 a.m.
Three days later, on February 7, he continued his mini-tour in Chicago. Then he traveled
to South Bend, Indiana, on February 9, before arriving in New York on February 11, where
in his old operation site, the Manhattan Chess Club, he faced 40 players the evening of Feb-
ruary 23, defeating 37 and drawing 3. This was a result similar to his last exhibition in that
same site, on December 16, 1920, when he won 32 games and drew 3. From New York, he
went south to Philadelphia for another exhibition two days later, on February 25. There he
defeated 46, lost 1 and drew 6, for a total in this small winter tour of 283 games, of which
he won 264, drew 17 and lost 2.5
The newlyweds departed aboard the liner Paris to the French port of Le Havre on
March 15. Interviewed before the trip, Capablanca said that he planned on settling for a
time in the capital of France before traveling to England to take part in the London tour-
nament. Traveling by car had become one of his main predilections, so that among his plans
was to take the wheel and travel across Austria. In Paris, he offered a simultaneous display
against 40 opponents on May 15, of whom he defeated 38, drew 1 and lost 1. There, the cor-
respondent for the Times of London asked his opinion about the strength of contemporary
masters with respect to the figures of the past. His response had the stamp of universality;
because it could have been said by any stellar figure in any era:
Present players are better than the old players. They know more. They have studied more. I do not
say they have better natural gifts. The science of the game has advanced enormously in the last fifty
years. The matches of the past cannot be judged by today’s standard. Most of them would fail in
comparison. The only player of the past who could stand modern criticism was Morphy, and that is
because he followed the same principles as living masters. He relied not so much as admirers
think on the brilliant combinations produced in some of his games, but on his thorough under-
standing of the theories by which present players work [(London) Times, July 19, 1922, page 15].
Capablanca explained to his interviewer that old chess was a haphazard game, in which
the players ignored its technical essences. It was on that occasion that the Cuban said that
Slavic players were better in chess because they were educated in a direction that made them
good in that mental activity. His opinion about the large number of first-order masters of
Jewish origin was: “Jews play well because for generations they have devoted so much of
their time to chess.” And regarding when a man reaches his peak in chess, he replied: “I
should think he reaches the top of his form around thirty. If he is good enough to be one of
the best, he must show ability at about twenty.” About the climate and its influence, Capa-
blanca said that the men who lived in cold climates could maintain their power “until sixty
years of age; the men of hot climates not later than the fifty”(ibid.). Of course, that was in
a time when air conditioning in houses or public buildings did not exist.
Another response of interest occurred when the journalist asked him of his comments
about the future of chess: “I have been quoted as saying that chess has reached its limit. I
never said anything of the kind. Somebody else made such a remark, and even he was mis-
quoted.” Which was right, because it was Lasker in his comments about the match of 1921
in Havana who wrote: “The old game approaches its hour of destiny”; this hypothesis he
then expanded to “Chess in its present form will die of the ‘draws’ soon. The victory of cer-
tainty and mechanism, inevitable as it is, is going to seal the fate of chess.” Capablanca himself
began to suggest the need for reforms in the game in 1925.6
On July 31, 1922, on the very board contested by the Dutchman Max Euwe (with the
White pieces) and Capablanca, the leader of the Conservative Party and future prime min-
ister of Great Britain Andrew Bonar Law moved White’s king pawn two squares forward to
officially open the London International Tournament. It was the finest congregation of chess
players organized by the British Empire since 1895, the year of the unforgettable Hastings
Tournament. The English had not forgotten that Lasker had not been able to win the com-
petition when he debuted there as world monarch; and now they were awaiting impatiently
the performance of the new emperor of the Kingdom of Caissa. On this occasion, neither
Lasker nor any other German master received invitations to attend London. The American
Chess Bulletin published in 1927 a letter from the former world champion in which he said
that he had asked $500 for his participation in the tournament in the British capital, but
this was not accepted. Later, Lasker said that this had been a bad translation, because he was
not invited to London, but to Hastings 1922, and when they did not accept his fee of 100
pounds, he was replaced by Tarrasch. Despite the fact that the tournament’s participants
included Alekhine, Rubinstein, Vidmar, Bogoljubow, Réti, Tartakower and Maróczy, among
others, Lasker said that in London, 1922: “Capablanca had no worthy opposition,” meaning
he, Lasker, was not present.
The Times ( July 19) described the Cuban in this way: “He looks as young as he is. He
is short and slight, with black hair. He speaks good English; and laughs as readily as young
Englishmen do. You might suppose him an unaffected Latin who had come to the city to
learn his way about in English busi-

ness. When he illustrated his theory
of chess by a divergence to lawn ten-
nis, one could fancy him hitting
hard on the courts.” The initial vic-
tory of the Cuban in the tourna-
ment was at the same time his first
encounter against Euwe, a future
world champion, who seemed con-
vinced of the inevitable fate of the
fight. “A little more of steadiness
might have given him a draw,” wrote
the Cuban in his daily chronicle for
the (London) Times, August 1, a
journalistic work, round by round,
that he had never performed before.
In the second round, the
English Victor Lionel Wahltuch
believed that the change of pieces
could bring him a draw. But he was
defeated by the Cuban even with
the presence of opposite-colored
bishops. The next was Frederick
Dewhurst Yates. The English master
sacrificed a pawn on his 53rd move
but two moves later lost his best
chance to equalize, losing a game in An itinerant Cuban ambassador. The most famous
which he persevered in a strategi- Capablanca caricature, made by the artist Conrado Mas-
cally inferior position. It was a long saguer in 1922, depicts him carrying a Cuban flag on his
struggle in which it seemed that the shoulder while walking the earth. The text says: “His
Majesty the Champion of the World.”
champion’s strategic advantages,
such as the dominion over the b file
or his rival’s bad bishop, were insufficient to succeed. The start of the tournament was a
replica of the “Victory Congress” of 1919, in which Kostić had pursued the Cuban. This
time it was Alekhine who did not move an inch away from the trail of triumphs of the Cuban,
and even appeared for one week ahead of the competition, after the third-round adjourned
game between Capablanca and Yates.
On the fourth day, there were surprises and puzzles not fully clarified to this day, in a
game against the Canadian John Stuart Morrison. The critics declared that Capablanca gave
a very modern treatment to the opening. No pawn was attacking another; the pieces acted
from the rear and the Cuban was in for an easy game, as in his first game against Corzo in
the Tournament of Havana, 1913. The game gained notoriety because, at a given moment,
a wrong position occurred as the result of a mistake in the later reproduction of the sequence
of moves. Had that position been factual it would have given Morrison the advantage of a
pawn, and perhaps the victory. But there is uncertainty as to whether the game was played
as Maróczy scored it in the book of the tournament. Anyway, at that particular time Black’s
position looks bad. Here is the game with a diagram at a key moment according to Maróczy’s
comments:
John S. Morrison–Capablanca [A47]

4th Round, London, 4 August 1922
1. d4 Nf6 2. Nf3 e6 3. e3 b6 4. Bd3 Bb7 5. 0–0 Be7 6. b3 0–0 7. Bb2 Ne4 8. c4
8. Nfd2 with the idea of removing the knight from e4 through 9. f3 was more consistent.
8. … f5 9. Nc3 Qe8 10. Qc2 N×c3 11. B×c3 Qh5 12. Qe2 Na6 The purpose of this move
is unclear. More sound was 12. … d6. Capablanca confessed years later in an interview with
Guillermo Pi that he had not paid much attention to his moves against inferior players. 13. c5
Nb8 14. b4 Bf6 15. Rac1 Nc6 16. e4 Ne7 17. e5 Nd5 18. Bd2 If 18. e×f6 Nf4 19. Qe3 N×g2
20. Qg5 Q×g5 21. N×g5 Nf4 22. f7+ R×f7 23. Rfd1 Rf6 24. c6 B×c6 25. d5 B×d5 26. B×f6
g×f6 27. R×c7 f×g5 28. R×d7 B×a2 with an even endgame. 18. ... Be7 19. Ne1 Qf7
20. f4 Rab8 21. Bc4 b×c5 22. b×c5 h6 23. Nc2 g5 24. Rb1 g×f4 25. Rb3 Bc6 26. B×f4
(see diagram) [game score continues next page]
According to Maróczy, here Capablanca took the bishop at
w4wDw4kD f4. Following Maróczy, the game continued: 26. … N×f4
0w0pgqDw 27. R×f4 Kh7? losing a pawn after 28. R×f5. Instead, the actual
wDbDpDw0 continuation could had been 26. … Kh7 and the exchange of the
Dw)n)pDw knight for the bishop occurred when Morrison forced it with
wDB)wGwD 27. Ne3, after what if followed: 27. … N×f4 28. R×f4 Qg6.
DRDwDwDw Apparently, the first one who realized the possible transpo-
PDNDQDP)
DwDwDRIw sition of moves in Maróczy’s book was Steve Giddins, who, after
he saw a different move-order in Panov’s book on Capablanca,
After 26. B×f4 Russia 1951, advised the historian Edward Winter about this.7
But this is not properly clarified because some doubts remain,
one of them produced by Capablanca himself who wrote in the Times of August 7, 1922
(page 10), as follows: “Saturday I did not have such a bad time as the day before [Friday,
August 5th versus Morrison]. To begin with I had the white pieces, and my careless playing
on Friday which nearly cost me the game, made me think that I should pay a little more
attention to my own game when things are going well.” But this was something that Capa-
blanca did not say in his daily chronicle of August 5, when he referred to that same game in
the following way:
I had Morrison for an opponent, and I defended a Queen Pawn Opening somewhat irregularly.
After a little maneuvering I obtained what I considered a satisfactory position. Then I went on
to improve my game further, which I did by offering a piece on the move 17th. My opponent did
not take it, which was somewhat unfortunate, as the sequence would have been most interesting.
I soon had an exceedingly strong position, but instead of increasing the pressure I went in for a
very pretty combination, which yielded practically nothing. The result of it was that soon most
of the pieces were exchanged, and I had once more a most difficult ending to play. I had however,
slightly the better position, and when the game was adjourned at 6 o’clock I had hopes of win-
ning. On resumption at 8 o’clock I soon increased my advantage, and a few minutes before 10
Morrison resigned.
In other words, in his chronicle written the evening of the game, the Cuban did not
mention at all his subsequent comments about “careless playing.” At least in the edition of
the (London) Times, August 5, 1922, reviewed by the author in the New York Public Library,
it does not appear the newspaper published the Morrison–Capablanca game, while the full
text of the Cuban impressions is much shorter than the reproduction cited by Edward Winter
in his book “Capablanca: A Compendium….” The only possible explanation for the difference
of the length of the text and the lack of the transcript of the game between the copy preserved
in New York and the one cited by the English historian is that they are two (or more) different
editions of that day’s newspaper, which is frequent. If the copy preserved in New York is an
earlier edition, as it should be, it would clarify both the brevity of the text and the lack of
the game, but not the possible transposition of moves, and much less the drastic conclusions
of Capablanca on Saturday 7 that he was on the verge of losing this encounter. The matter
is still more confusing when in his summary of the tournament (Times, August 21, page 13)
the Cuban wrote: “From the onlooker’s point of view probably my prettiest game was against
Morrison, as on two occasions I offered a bishop during the course of the game. On either
occasion it would have been fatal to take it.”
26. ... Kh7 With the order of moves 26. ... N×f4 27. R×f4 Kh7 White has now the
possibility of 28. R×f5 Qg8 29. R×f8 R×f8 30. Bd3+ Kh8 31. Be4 with a winning position.
27. Ne3 White misses the chance of 27. B×d5 B×d5 28. Rh3 Rg8 29. Ne3 Be4 30. R×h6+
Kg7 31. Ng4 Rh8 32. R×h8 R×h8 33. Nf6 with advantage. 27. … N×f4 28. R×f4 Bg5
29. R×f5 B×e3+ 30. Q×e3 Qg6 31. Rf2 B×g2! 32. R×b8 Better seems 32. Qg3 (of course
not 32. R×g2 Qb1+!) 32. … Be4 33. Q×g6+ K×g6 34. Rg3+ Kh7 35. R×f8 R×f8 36. Ra3
with a little better position for White. 32. ... Be4+ 33. Qg3 R×b8 34. Q×g6+ K×g6
35. Rf6+ Kg7 36. Rf4 Better is 36. Bb3 a5 37. Kf2 Bc6 38. Ke3 a4 39. Bc4 Rb2 40. Rf2 Rb1
41. Rf1 Rb2 42. Rf2 with an even endgame. 36. ... Bf5 37. Rf3 Better seems 37. a3 Kg6
38. Kg2 Kg5 39. Kg3 Rb2 40. Rf2 Rb1 41. Rf1 with an even ending. 37. ... Rb1+ 38. Kf2
Rb2+ 39. Kg3 Rd2 40. Rf4 a5 41. h4? Better is 41. a3 c6 42. Ba6 Kg6 43. h4 Kf7 44. Bc4
Ke7 45. Rf2 R×d4 46. Rf4 Rd2 47. Rf2 Rd1 48. Rf1 with an even ending. 41. ... c6 42. Kf3
a4! 43. Ke3 Rc2 44. Ba6 R×a2 45. Bc8 Ra3+ Or 45. ... Ra1 46. Kd2 a3 47. Kc3 Rg1 48. Kb3
Rg3+ 49. Ka2 Bd3 winning. 46. Ke2 Rc3?! Better is 46. ... Ra2+ 47. Ke3 Ra1 48. Kd2 a3
winning. 47. B×d7 a3 48. d5 Better is 48. Rf1 a2 49. Ra1 Ra3 50. B×c6 Bd3+ 51. Kd2 Bc4
52. Be4 Kf7 53. Kc2 Ke7 54. Kb2 Rb3+ 55. Kc2 Rh3 56. h5 Kd7 57. Kb2 Rb3+ 58. Kc2
Rh3 59. Kb2 with an even endgame. 48. ... c×d5 49. c6 If 49. Ra4 R×c5 50. R×a3 d4
winning. 49. ... Kf7 50. Ra4 Ke7 51. Ra8 d4 52. Re8+ Kf7 53. Ra8 Be4 54. Ra7 Rc2+
55. Ke1 a2 56. Kd1 d3 57. Bc8+ Kg6 White resigned. 0–1.
The game against Znosko-Borovsky (Black) gives the fifth triumph to the Cuban.
Working on the queenside, the champion forced pawn moves that leave the Black queen
bishop without game. This defined the battle strategically. Capablanca wrote ([London]
Times, August 7), “After that his game was practically gone, as the two knights completely
controlled the board.” In the sixth round, Capablanca defeated Bogoljubow, a member of
the avant-garde chess movement of the postwar years. It was the first official game played
between them; the final lifetime count shows a big imbalance in the Cuban’s favor. In seven
official games, Capablanca won 5 and drew 2, in a period spanning from London 1922 until
their last clash in Nottingham 1936.
The end of their game in London was tense, because Black made the most of a passed
pawn. The Cuban wrote for the Times (August 8) that many viewers believed he was lost,
but the analysis showed that it was not true.
Capablanca–Efim D. Bogoljubow [C91]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. 0–0 Be7 6. Re1 b5 7. Bb3 d6 8. c3 0–0
9. d4 e×d4 Better is 9. ... Bg4. 10. c×d4 Bg4 11. Be3 Better is Em. Lasker’s suggestion 11. Nc3!
11. ... Na5 12. Bc2 Nc4 13. Bc1 c5 14. b3 Na5 15. Bb2 Better is Fischer’s 15. d5! 15. ... Nc6
16. d5 Nb4 17. Nbd2 N×c2 18. Q×c2 Re8 19. Qd3 h6 20. Nf1 Nd7 21. h3 Bh5 Better is
21. ... B×f3! 22. Q×f3 Bf6 (Capablanca). 22. N3d2 Bf6 23. B×f6 Q×f6 24. a4 c4 25. b×c4
Nc5 26. Qe3 b×a4 27. f4 Qe7 Better is 27. ... Bg6 28. Ng3 Rab8 29. f5 Bh7 and White f5
pawn is not supported by g2–g4 (Kasparov). 28. g4 Bg6 29. f5 Bh7 30. Ng3 Qe5 31. Kg2
Rab8 32. Rab1 f6 Or 32. ... Rb2 33. Re2 R×b1 34. N×b1 Rb8 35. Nd2 Rb2 with counterplay.
33. Nf3 Rb2+ 34. R×b2 Q×b2+ 35. Re2 Qb3 36. Nd4 Q×e3 Better seems 36. ... Q×c4!
37. R×e3 Rb8 38. Rc3 Kf7 39. Kf3 Rb2 40. Nge2 Bg8 (see diagram)
41. Ne6! Nb3 If 41. ... N×e4 42. K×e4 R×e2+ 43. Kd3
wDwDwDbD [A.N.: or 43. Kd4 Rd2+ 44. Rd3 R×d3+ 45. K×d3 h5 46. Kc3
DwDwDk0w h×g4 47. h×g4 Bh7 48. Kb4 g6 49. Nd4 winning] 43. ... Rh2
pDw0w0w0 44. Kd4 h5 45. c5 (Capablanca). 42. c5 d×c5 42. ... a3 43. c×d6
DwhPDPDw a2 44. Rc7+ Ke8 45. Re7 mate 43. N×c5 Nd2+ 44. Kf2 Ke7 If
pDPHPDPD 44. ... Nb1 45. Rc1 a3 46. Ne6 a2 47. Rc7+ Ke8 48. d6 B×e6
Dw$wDKDP 49. f×e6 Rb8 50. R×g7 Kf8 51. Rf7+ Kg8 52. Rb7 R×b7 53. d7
w4wDNDwD R×d7 54. e×d7 a1=Q 55. d8=Q+ Kf7 56. Qd7+ Kg8 57. Nd4
DwDwDwDw
Qa2+ 58. Kg3 Qa3+ 59. Kh4 Qf8 60. Nf5 winning. 45. Ke1
After 40. … Bg8 Nb1 46. Rd3 a3 If 46. ... Kd6 47. N×a4 Rb8 48. Nac3 Bf7 49. Kf2
Be8 50. Nd4 a5 51. Ne6 N×c3 (or 51. … Rb3 52. e5+ winning)
52. R×c3 Rb4 53. N×g7 R×e4 54. Ra3 a4 55. N×e8+ winning. 47. d6+ Kd8 48. Nd4 Rb6
If 48. ... a2 49. Nc6+ Kc8 50. d7+ and mate. 49. Nde6+ B×e6 50. f×e6 Rb8 51. e7+ Ke8
52. N×a6 Black resigned. If 52. ... a2 53. N×b8 a1= Q 54. d7+ winning. 1–0.
On August 10, the morning draw decided Capablanca’s afternoon rival to be Tar-
takower, who described this fight as “The Most Exciting Game I Ever Played.”8
Your Editor’s request conjured up at once from my memory a swarm of recollections. Some
laughed at me, some grimaced, some looked sarcastic, and some—the memories of chances
missed, looked sad and regretful. Nor was it easy to decide on one particular out of the many
strenuous tussles of my long career.
Should I tell of that game against Maróczy at Teplitz Schönau in 1922? I had Black. At the
moment, I was leading the tournament with a brilliant but brittle 100 percent, having won my
first three games in a row. Now again I went all out for a win, but there suddenly came to me the
chilling realization that my attack was completely premature, that I had overplayed my hand,
and that only superhuman efforts could hope to avert a crash. A move or two more and it
became plain that unless I were prepared to sacrifice a rook at once without more than the most
intangible compensation, my attack would vanish completely. A whole rook! What a dilemma.
To cut a long story short, I made the sacrifice. Playing with desperation, I found more in the
position than I had ever dreamed existed, and finally after many exchanges, I won!
Exciting as the game was, the sequel was little less so, for an army of critics assailed me,
demanding what I should have done in such-and-such a contingency, and so on. In this post-
mortem I made still further undreamed discoveries, and was able to prove that I had seen about
twenty moves deep in every variation—to the satisfaction of all of them, except one who mur-
mured nastily: The sacrifice was too deep to be correct!
After this experience, said Maróczy, You will never beat me again, for I shall always keep the
draw in hand against you. His prophecy was doomed to only partial realization, for I found
chinks in the genial Hungarian champion’s armor both at Nice in 1930 and Folkestone in 1933.
Or should I tell [of ] that game against Bogoljubow at Carlsbad in 1929? Playing my crash-
hand adversary game, I sacrificed a pawn for nothing in the course of the first few moves, and
bent every endeavor thereafter, not to recovering it, but towards rendering the game more
involved, complex and mysterious. As Bogoljubow participated in this tournament surrounded
by all the aura of a challenger for the world championship (his match against Alekhine started
two months later), everybody in it strained every nerve in their game against him and gave the
poor little fellow a grueling time.
This was a fantastic game in every way. When, ultimately, after the most weird and abra-
cadabral circumlocutions, and after five and a quarter hours of play I managed to force his resig-
nation on the forty-fifth move, I received the shock of my life. I was presented with a special
prize for the quickest win of the round. This prize had been donated on the spur of the moment
by a wealthy visitor, but the news had been kept from the masters in case it should influence
their play. The very round before, there had been a beautiful miniature game of fifteen moves,
but in this round it so happened that every one of the eleven games was contested with extraor-
dinary tenacity, that my little 45 moves—brevity—scooped the pool.
Or yet again, should I tell of my victory over Alekhine in 1933? As usual against Alexander
the Great, one had to beat him three times over to score a single point against him. I laboriously
gained a small advantage on the queen’s side, but battling fiercely, felt this gradually slipping
from my grasp; so I worked hard for compensation and, by the time his queen’s side advantage
had disappeared, I had the rudiments of an attack on the opposite wing. This attack came to
nothing, but enabled me, almost by accident, to pick a little pawn which clung to me through
various exchanges and which, as the end-game approached, made its presence more and more
pressingly felt. At adjournment time, I received many congratulations from the bystanders on
the win they thought I was about to score. Little did they or I realize the hours of mental toil
that yet stretched between me and my goal!
Alekhine always strove, in these International Team Tournaments, to make a better score than
any other first-board competitor. Also, in a couple of consultation games in Paris two months
before, he had registered partial success against me. So that now he was on his mettle.
I, however, always play better when playing for a team, and hung on grimly through the long
end-game which followed. When the second adjournment drew near, it became obvious that the
world champion was definitely lost. He had dropped a second pawn.
Still, he did not resign. His last chance was that some unexpected circumstance might prevent
me from turning up for the resumption of play, so that the game would go by default. Who
knows what might have happened? I might have had a stroke, or the hotel roof might have col-
lapsed, pinning me underneath the wreckage. All these hopes failed him and, when he saw me
turn up for play still hale and hearty, he resigned without making another move. At Nottingham
1936, however, he had a sumptuous revenge. On the whole that Folkestone encounter excited me
less than it did Alekhine, or the spectators, who always like to be in at the defeat of a champion.
No, I think that after all, the most terribly pulse-stirring fight of my whole chess career was
this one, played in the London tournament of 1922.
Capablanca–Savielly S. Tartakower [D58]

8th Round, London, 8 October 1922
Description and annotation by Tartakower
My encounter with the then champion of the world, reputed to be unbeatable, was for me the
great tit-bit of this tournament. There was one rather troublesome circumstance connected with
this tournament—nobody knew in advance who was to be his opponent on any particular day,
because the draw of the round was made only on the day of play. Not long afterwards did I learn
that the draw was posted during the morning, and that other participants had been regularly
apprising themselves of the desired information, either through a personal journey, or through
getting friends to telephone it to them. Here was I then arriving after an opulent lunch ten min-
utes or more late, to find that Fate had pitted me, this day of all days, against none other than
the immortal Cuban, Champion of the World. Another peculiar circumstance about this tour-
nament was the comparatively quick time limit (40 moves in two hours!). In view of which I
decided to play the opening nonchalantly. This explains my “instinctive” but premature check
on the 21st. move, but it failed to save me from time-pressure, which was solely to blame for my
sudden retreat on the 32nd. On the other hand, Señor Capablanca was obviously troubled, not
only by the paradoxical maneuvers in this well-known opening (e.g. my sixth and ninth moves),
but also by my obvious willingness to exchange blow for blow (for instance, see my eleventh). At
the very end, this game became sensational [Tartakover’s notes continue below].
1. d4 Nf6 2. Nf3 d5 3. c4 e6 4. Nc3 Be7 5. Bg5 0–0 6. e3 h6 The first little surprise
for Capablanca, imbued with classical ideas. The move was supposed to “weaken” the king’s
wing, but it has since been completely accepted at any rate, when followed up by the devel-
opment of Black’s queen bishop on his b7. Look up “Tartakower’s Variations” in Modern
Chess Openings. 7. Bh4 b6 Note that in developing my bishop in this old fashioned way, I
do it before moving my queen’s knight, so as to retain full control of my d6 and b6 squares,
which would be weakened by 7. ... Nbd7. 8. c×d5 e×d5 If 8. ... N×d5 9. Bg3 9. Qb3 This
pseudo-positional sortie seems to indicate that my great adversary has been just a little puz-
zled by my opening. 9. Bd3 followed by castles seems a more solid continuation and more
in keeping with his style. As for the more violent line (Marshall’s) 9. B×f6 B×f6 10. Bd3 Bb7
11. h4 etc., not only would such a treatment be quite foreign to his nature, but quite a lot of
the sting has already been taken out of the threatened advance of the rook’s pawn by my
“weakening” move h6. Psychology plays a big part in chess, particularly in the choice of
opening variations. Now I unsettled him further a bold change of plan. 9. ... Be6 A new sur-
prise. All the pedants would plump for 9. ... Bb7 with one voice. Its place is prepared for it.
There the bishop would be much more “naturally” developed—but to only half as much
effect! We are already far, far away from the books! 10. Rd1 c6 10. ... Ne4 at once would also
have been good. 11. Qc2 Thinking to prevent the advance of the knight—but I was deter-
mined to make it a wild game, rather than allow my opponent the quiet positional maneu-
vering he enjoys. 11. ... Ne4 12. B×e7 Q×e7 13. N×e4 Taking up the challenge. If 13. Bd3
then not 13. ... f5 because of 14. Ne5, but simply 13. ... N×c3 14. b×c3 Rc8 and Black is
beginning to press on the queen’s side. 13. ... d×e4 14. Q×e4 Qb4+ 15. Nd2 Or 15. Rd2
B×a2 16. Bd3 g6 [A.N.: However, after 17. Qf4 Kg7 18. Ne5 Qe7 19. 0–0 White has a big
advantage]. 15. ... Q×b2 Here 15. ... B×a2 would be a mistake because of 16. b3. 16. Bd3 g6
17. Qf4 Kg7 More exact play than 17. ... Kh7. 18. h4 Nd7 19. Ne4 Q×a2 Henceforth, unless
White can achieve something tangible through his attack on the
rDwDw4wD king’s side, his cause is lost, because of Black’s advantage on the
0wDnDpiw other wing. The news that the world champion was at bay spread
w0pDbDw0 around like lightning and all the other players gathered around
DwDwDw0P to look at the unusual spectacle! 20. h5 g5 A well planned
wDw)NDwD counter measure, for White cannot play the otherwise crushing
DwDB)w!w 21. N×g5 on account of the quiet intermediate check on 21. ...
qDwDw)PD Qa5+ followed by ... Q×g5. 21. Qg3 (see diagram)
DwDRIwDR 21. ... Qa5+ “Alas, this is the play of a wood-shifter; he sees
After 21. Qg3 a check—he gives it! Much more convincing would be 21. ... f5
at once, for the sacrifice 22. N×g5 now fails against 22. ... h×g5 23. Q×g5+ Kf7 24. h6 Rg8
25. Qh5+ Rg6 26. h7 Rh8 followed by Nf6 etc.; whilst the precipitate retreat 22. Nd2 would
be hardly less lamentable: 22. … f4 23. e×f4 R×f4 etc. 22. Ke2 Nicely sheltered; and now
thanks to his opponent’s kindness, White’s rooks are working together nicely. 22. ... f5 Quite
ready for the sacrifice which follows (in any case it is well to be on the alert for an opportunity
to sacrifice—the other man’s pieces!). 23. N×g5 h×g5 24. Q×g5+ Kf7 25. h6 Rg8 26. Qh5+
Ke7 26. ... Rg6 would be now too risky. 27. h7 Rh8 because of the maneuver now possible
for White 28. Ra1 followed by 29. R×a7. 27. h7 R×g2 I had staked everything on this counter
sacrifice; the timorous continuation 27. ... Rh8 28. Qg5+ Kd6 29. Qg3+ gives White a draw
at least. 28. Kf1 For, if at once 28. h8=Q R×h8 29. Q×h8 Qa2+ 30. Rd2 R×f2+ 31. K×f2
Q×d2+, and Black has two pawns and a knight for the rook, and the attack into the bargain.
28. ... Qd5 29. h8=Q R×h8 30. Q×h8 Qf3 Black’s attack still looks dangerous, but Capa-
blanca defends himself with fine skill. 31. Rd2 Bd5 Threatening 32,,,, R×f2+ 33. R×f2 Qd1
mate. 32. Ke1 Rg8 Instead of this tempting withdraw, I might have considered the rather
stronger 32. ... Rg5 ‘over-protecting’ the weak pawn on f5. 33. Qh7+ Kd6 34. Rf1 The only
move, for if 34. Rh3 Rg1+ 35. Bf1 Bc4 36. Rd3 R×f1+ 37. K×f1 B×d3+ and wins. 34. ...
Be6 35. Rc2 a5 36. Qh2+ Ke7 37. Be2 Qe4 38. Kd2 c5 Simpler would have been 38. ...
a4. 39. Bd3 Qg2 40. Qh4+ Qg5 41. Q×g5+ R×g5 42. Rb1 (see diagram)
“This is the move my opponent sealed at adjournment, the
threat being 43. d×c5. ‘Your advantage on the queen’s side looks wDwDwDwD
like becoming a disadvantage’ remarked a friend. ‘Wait until you DwDniwDw
see the rejoinder I have in store!’ I replied. I could still see the pos- w0wDbDwD
sibility of a win in the position, especially if my adversary should 0w0wDp4w
overestimate his chances. 42. ... f4! A crushing move! By a strik- wDw)wDwD
ing change of scene, Black once again takes over the initiative. DwDB)wDw
Capablanca now managed to find the one and only correct riposte, wDRIw)wD
DRDwDwDw
which consisted in the offer of a draw. He realized that 43. e×f4
would be disastrous, because of the new attack 43. ... Rd5 and After 42. Rb1
that he could save himself only by giving back the exchange by
43. d×c5 N×c5 44. R×b6 f×e3+ 45. f×e3 Rd5 46. R×c5 R×c5 47. Rb5 with an automatic
draw. The public would much rather have seen all this happen over the board, but I am to say
I disappointed them by agreeing to the draw there and then. I had had enough.” Draw. ½–½.
Games like this against Tartakower meant that in all rounds a small crowd were gathered
near the world champion’s table. The British journalist Brian Harley reflected on the atmos-
phere of adoration that existed then in England around the figure of the Cuban:
It is probable that no chess player, past or present, has ever been the object of so much hero-wor-
ship. All through the fortnight of the Tourney it was impossible to get near Capablanca’s board,
unless one belonged to the camp-stool brigade. Otherwise one obtained merely a back view of a
throng of worshippers sitting at the shrine of Capa. These devotees did not much watch his play
in itself. When, as often happened, the champion took a constitutional down the rope-in track,
their eyes following him adoringly. I noticed one small boy, who had been honored with the
sacred autograph, standing stock-still for a full five minutes, with a look of ineffable bliss upon
his face.9
After that stormy attack against his position by Tartakower, the world champion
remained ahead of the pack headed by Alekhine and Vidmar. Alekhine was his very next
opponent, but soon a draw in just 17 moves was agreed, which caused displeasure among
fans who came to witness the fight. Capablanca felt compelled to explain for about half an
hour to Brian Harley the need to play according to his position in the tournament table.
Then came the triumph against Richard Réti. Again a small advantage and a constant pressure
all throughout the game did in the winner of the tournament of Göteborg, 1920: The Con-
vention of the Hypermodernists, as it was called later.
Capablanca–Richard Réti [A48]

1. d4 Nf6 2. Nf3 g6 3. h3 Bg7 4. Bf4 0–0 5. Nbd2 d6 6. e3 Nbd7 7. c3 c5 8. Bc4 b6
9. 0–0 Bb7 10. Qe2 Qc7 Better seems 10. ... Ne4. 11. Bh2 Rae8 Again, better seems 11. ...
Ne4. 12. e4 c×d4 13. c×d4 e5 14. Rac1 Qb8 15. d5 Rc8 16. Bb5 R×c1 Better is 16. ... Rc7
17. Qe3 Rfc8 18. Nb3 Nc5. 17. R×c1 Rc8 18. Bc6 Bh6 Better is 18. ... Qa8 19. Nc4 Bf8. 19. b4
B×d2?! Better is 19. ... Qa8 20. b5 a6 21. a4 Nc5 22. Re1 (if 22. Ra1 a×b5 23. B×b5 Ba6)
22. ... N×a4 23. Nc4 Bf8 24. Ra1 B×c6 25. b×c6 b5 26. R×a4 b×a4 27. Nb6 Qb8 28. N×c8
a3 29. Kh1 Q×c8 30. Qc2 Qb8 31. Nd2 Ne8 32. Nc4 Qb4 33. Bg1 Nc7 with an even game.
20. N×d2 B×c6 21. d×c6 b5 22. Nb3 Nf8 23. Qd3 Ne6 24. Kf1 Preparing the relocation
of the bishop in g1. 24. ... Qb6 25. Na5 Qd4 26. Q×d4 N×d4
27. f3 Rc7?! Better is 27. ... Nh5 28. Ke1 Ng7 29. Kd2 Nge6 (see
wDwDwDkD diagram)
0w4wDpDp 28. Bg1! The winning move. 28. ... Kf8 If 28. ... Ne6
wDP0whpD 29. Nb7 winning. 29. B×d4 e×d4 30. Rd1 Ke7 31. R×d4 Ke6
HpDw0wDw 32. Ke2 Or 32. Nb7 d5 33. e×d5+ N×d5 34. Re4+ Kf6 35. Nd6
w)whPDwD R×c6 36. Ne8+ Kf5 37. g4+ Kg5 38. Re5+ winning. 32. ... Ng8
DwDwDPDP If 32. ... d5 33. Kd3 a6 34. Nb7 Rc8 35. e×d5+ N×d5 36. f4 Nb6
PDwDwDPG
Dw$wDKDw 37. Re4+ Kf6 38. Na5 winning. 33. Nb7 Nf6 34. R×d6+ Ke7
35. Ke3 Ne8 36. e5! Ng7 37. f4 h5 38. g4 h×g4 39. h×g4 Black
After 27. … Rc7 resigned. 1–0.
The Englishman Henry Ernest Atkins was Capablanca’s next opponent. Emanuel Lasker
commented that Atkins met the conditions to be a grandmaster, and even a world champion,
but had not wanted to venture down such a rough road. Capablanca took advantage of all
the positional miscues of his rival (who was strong in tactics) and led the game through the
trails of quiet maneuvering. After the exchange of queens, the advantages were to the cham-
pion, who won after 67 moves in a difficult ending.
In the next round, the English master Charles Gilbert Marriot Watson did not even
make a minimum of resistance. After that game, there was a livelier match against Milan
Vidmar, which appeared later in almost all of the Cuban’s game selections and in various
anthologies of master games.
Capablanca–Milan Vidmar [D64]

1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. c4 e6 4. Nc3 Be7 5. Bg5 Nbd7 6. e3 0–0 7. Rc1 c6 8. Qc2
d×c4 9. B×c4 Nd5 10. B×e7 Q×e7 11. 0–0 b6? Better is 11. ... N×c3. 12. N×d5! c×d5
13. Bd3 h6 If 13. ... Nf6 14. Qc7 Re8 15. Qf4 g6 16. Rc7 Bd7 17. Ne5 Rec8 18. Rb7 a6 19. g4
with a winning position. 14. Qc7 Qb4 15. a3! Qa4 If 15. ... Q×b2 16. Ra1! Rb8 (if 16. ...
Qb3 17. Qc6 Rb8 18. Bb5 a6 19. Rfb1 winning) 17. Rfb1 Rb7 18. Qc6 Nb8 19. Qd6 Qc3
20. Ne5 Rc7 21. Bh7+ K×h7 22. Q×f8 f6 23. Nf7 Qc6 24. h4 Qd7 25. Rc1 winning. 16. h3!
Nf6 If 16. ... Rb8 17. Ne5 Rb7 18. Qc6 Q×c6 19. N×c6 Kh8 20. Ne7 Rb8 21. N×c8 Rf×c8
22. Ba6 with a winning position. 17. Ne5 Bd7 If 17. ... Ba6 18. b3 Qa5 19. Nc6 winning; if
17. ... Qe8 18. Rc3 with a winning position. 18. Bc2 Qb5 19. a4 Q×b2 (see diagram)
20. N×d7 Stronger was 20. Rb1! Qa2 21. N×d7 (or 21. Bb3
Qa3 22. N×d7 winning) 21. ... Rac8 22. N×f6+ g×f6 23. Qg3+ rDwDw4kD
winning. 20. ... Rac8 21. Qb7 N×d7 22. Bh7+ K×h7 23. R×c8 0w!bDp0w
R×c8 24. Q×c8 With a winning position. 24. ... Nf6 25. Rc1 w0wDphw0
Qb4 26. Qc2+ Kg8 27. Qc6 Qa3 28. Qa8+ Kh7 29. Rc7 Q×a4 DwDpHwDw
30. R×f7 Qd1+ 31. Kh2 Qh5 32. Q×a7 Qg6 33. Rf8 Qf5 PDw)wDwD
34. Rf7 Qg6 35. Rb7 Ne4 36. Qa2 e5 37. Q×d5 e×d4 38. Rb8 DwDw)wDP
w1BDw)PD
Nf6 39. Q×d4 Qf5 40. R×b6 Q×f2 41. Qd3+ Kg8 42. Rb8+
Dw$wDRIw
Black resigned. If 42. ... Kf7 43. Rb7+ Ke6 (if 43. ... Kg8
44. Qd8+ winning) 44. Qa6+ Kf5 45. Qb5+ Kg6 46. Qb1+ Qf5 After 19. … Q×b2
47. R×g7+ winning. 1–0.
In the penultimate round, the champion drew with Rubinstein in 13 moves. And in
the last, the Italian Davide Marotti (Black) overlooked a move that led to the loss of a pawn
in a Dragon Variation of the Sicilian Defense. Before the start of the competition, Tartakower
predicted for a Vienna newspaper that in his opinion Alekhine has the better chances to win
the tournament, but Capablanca finished in first place with 13 points out of 15, a point and
a half more than Alekhine. From this tournament comes the anecdote that a fan and promoter
of chess in London, Christopher Ogle, invited Capablanca and Alekhine to a variety show,
where “Capablanca never took his eyes off the chorus, whilst Alekhine never looked up from
his pocket chess set.”10
Without questioning the authenticity of the story, it is necessary to observe that Capa-
blanca was in London with his wife Gloria. Maybe her absence from the musical revue was
London BCF Congress 1922

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
1 Capablanca, J • ½ 1 ½ 1 1 ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 13
2 Alekhine, A. ½ • ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 111⁄2
3 Vidmar, M. 0 ½ • 0 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 11
4 Rubinstein, A. ½ 0 1 • ½ ½ 1 1 ½ 0 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 101⁄2
5 Bogoljubow, E 0 ½ 0 ½ • ½ 1 1 0 1 ½ 0 1 1 1 1 9
6 Réti, R. 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ • ½ ½ 1 1 ½ 1 0 1 0 1 81⁄2 57.00
7 Tartakower, S. ½ ½ 0 0 0 ½ • ½ 1 0 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 81⁄2 52.25
8 Maróczy, G. ½ ½ ½ 0 0 ½ ½ • 1 ½ ½ 1 ½ 0 1 1 8 53.50
9 Yates, F. 0 0 0 ½ 1 0 0 0 • 1 1 1 1 1 ½ 1 8 44.00
10 Atkins, H. E. 0 0 ½ 1 0 0 1 ½ 0 • 0 1 ½ ½ 0 1 6
11 Euwe, M. 0 0 0 0 ½ ½ 0 ½ 0 1 • 0 1 0 1 1 51⁄2
12 Znosko-Borovsky 0 0 0 ½ 1 0 0 0 0 0 1 • 1 ½ 1 0 5 31.50
13 Wahltuch, V. 0 ½ 0 0 0 1 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 0 • 1 1 ½ 5 31.00
14 Morrison, J.S. 0 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 1 0 ½ 1 ½ 0 • 0 1 41⁄2 24.75
15 Watson, C.G. 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 ½ 1 0 0 0 1 • 1 41⁄2 24.50
16 Marotti, D. 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 ½ 0 0 • 11⁄2
because during the tournament she was about four months pregnant, hence the invitation
to Alekhine. Or perhaps someone created the story and did not take into account the presence
of Gloria in London, and therefore it is apocryphal. In any case, the account is illustrative
of how some chess stars act; this author witnessed something similar during the farewell
party of the Chess Olympiad of Havana, 1966, celebrated in the mansion of former Cuban
television mogul Goal Mestre. At that time the American grandmaster Nicolas Rossolimo
did not take his eyes off the Tropicana Cabaret dancers in a special performance there,
while Robert Fischer, seated at his side, doggedly followed a variation on his pocket chess
set.
During a free day in the middle of the tournament, Capablanca invited all participants
to submit for approval a set of precepts and rules that should govern the future matches for
the world chess championship. The fundamental significance of his action was his attempt
to establish some order in the chaotic world of championship matches. This was the most
important organizational action in chess since 1851, when Howard Staunton gathered (in
London, coincidentally) the most famous European masters to propose the creation of a
world body of chessplayers, and establish uniformity in the chess rules.
It was significant that in this new opportunity, the propositions were made by the world
champion himself. Some commentators rightly noted that such an initiative exalted Capa-
blanca, because ultimately the “London Rules” were a straitjacket for the champion, who
thereafter would be subject to a pre-established order. Capablanca believed that the regula-
tions he presented to the world of chess would end the absolutist reign of the world cham-
pions, as well as the arbitrary way of changing the demands of the matches at the summit in
correspondence to the power of the pretenders. Very little has been written about the sig-
nificance of the “London Rules.” Perhaps an exception is the American grandmaster Andy
Soltis, who wrote in his preface to the reissue in 2010 of the London 1922 book by Maróczy:
“Capablanca wanted to do away with this haphazard way of doing business. His idea could
codify transparency into the world championship.” The American Chess Bulletin (December
1923, pages 185–187) published the “London Rules”; They are:
LONDON RULES
1. The match to be one of six games up, draws not to count.
2. There shall be six play-days a week. One session each day and of five hours’ duration. Each
player has the right to take three off days during the course of the match. The player availing
himself of this right must notify the referee or his opponent of his intention at least one hour
before the time set for the commencements of the game.
3. The time limit shall be forty moves per two and a half hours.
4. Two games never to be started or played on any one play day.
5. A referee shall be appointed by mutual consent between the players. In case the players
cannot agree upon the referee, the champion shall have the right to request the presidents of any
three leading federations or clubs to appoint the referee, who will have to be accepted by both
players.
6. A stakeholder shall be appointed by mutual consent of the players. If they cannot agree,
the referee shall have the right to select one.
7. The champion must defend his title within one year after receiving a challenge. He will,
however, only be compelled to accept such a challenge from recognized international masters.
8. The champion will not be compelled to defend his title for a purse below 10,000 (ten
thousand dollars), in addition to which sum the traveling expenses both ways of both players as
well as their living expenses during the progress of the match must also be provided for.
9. Of the total amount of the purse the champion shall receive 20 percent as a fee. Of the
remaining 80 percent the winner to receive 60 percent and the loser 40 percent.
10. The champion shall have the right of naming the date for the beginning of the match as
well as the hours of the day for the five-hour sessions, but those hours can only be between 2
p.m. and 1 a.m. of the following day, unless by mutual consent between the players and the con-
tributors of the match. Should there be several offers by clubs or countries for the match, the
champion will be obliged to accept the highest bid, unless he can give satisfactory reasons to the
refree for the refusing such offer.
11. After a challenge has been accepted by the champion and a referee and a stakeholder
appointed, the challenger must put up a forfeit of $500 [about $7,100 in 2015] with stakeholder
as a guarantee of his good faith.
12. Three months before the date set for the beginning of the match, the challenger must put
an additional $500 and his amount must be covered by the champion, and at the same time the
subscriber to the purse must deposit with the stakeholder $3,000 [$42,000] on account of the
purse, and in the event of the balance of the purse not being deposited with the stakeholder, at
least twenty-four hours before the date set for the start of the match, then the amounts
deposited by the players are to be returned to them and the three thousand dollars ($3,000)
deposited by the subscriber be divided between the players in the proportion of 60 percent to
the champion and 40 percent to the challenger.
13. If the champion fails to play the match on account of serious illness, he forfeits his title to
the challenger, but his deposit money will be returned to him. In the event, however, of his fail-
ing to play for any other reason, then he not only loses his title to the challenger, but also forfeits
his deposit money. In the event of the challenger not playing because of serious illness, he will
forfeit one-half of his total deposit money, one thousand dollars ($1,000), but if he declines to
play for any other reason, then and in that event his whole deposit ($1,000) [$14,000] will be
forfeited.
14. Adequate traveling expenses of the player must be supplied by the subscriber on the date
to be fixed by the referee.
15. Any additional points not covered by these rules will be decided by the referee, whose
decision in any case shall be final.
16. The referee, when not present during the play, must name a substitute to act as umpire to
decide any dispute that may arise. In case the decision of the umpire is unsatisfactory to either player,
the said player has the right to appeal to the referee. If the dispute is with regards to the game in
progress, the game shall be continued under protest, pending the final decision of the referee. The
protest, however, must be filed at once by the protesting player, or his second, at the player’s request.
17. Each player has the right to select a second to be present during the course of the game.
18. Each player has the right to demand that play take place in a separate room, away from
the audience and its noise. In this room no other person can be admitted except the players, the
referee, the umpire, the seconds and, if necessary, one more person agreeable to both players, to
carry the moves as they are executed, from the playing room to the audience outside.
19. Each player shall keep a score of the game as it progresses.
20. The games to be played under the British Chess Code with the following modifications:
(a) No King penalty for false move, except for the written adjourned move.
(b) A game can be declared a draw at any time by mutual consent of the players.
(c) Where any player sets up a claim (as for draw because of the three-fold repetition of
position) which, upon investigation, turns out to be false, such player making false
claim shall have charged against his playing time of his clock so much of the time as
may be required for examination and demonstration of the claim. The penalty limits,
however, to be one-half hour.
(d) Any claim for exceeding the time limit must be made before the player, against
whom the claim is directed, has completed his 40th move. The referee or the umpire
must declare forfeited any game the moment they see that one of the players has
exceeded the time limit.
21. Any of the foregoing rules may be modified by mutual consent between the players and
the contributors to the purse, or the referee in case of inability of the contributors or players to
be represented, but such modification shall in no way establish a precedent in future cases.
At an informal meeting where Capablanca gave attendees champagne and snacks, seven
of the participants in the London tournament adopted the rules and pledged to follow them
in the event they won the supreme crown of chess. They were: Alekhine, Bogoljubow,
Maróczy, Réti, Rubinstein, Tartakower and Vidmar, all of them undoubtedly among those
who could challenge the monarch given their status as “recognized international masters.”
As a result of that meeting of the foremost players of the time, one where the absence of
Lasker was felt, and to a lesser extent that of Marshall and Spielmann, one more clause was
added to the rules, number 22:
22. The player winning the title must defend it under the above conditions proposed by
Señor J. R. Capablanca, and we hereby declare that these rules and no others should govern all
future championship contests, and that should any of us at any time become world’s chess cham-
pion, we will be ready to defend the championship under above conditions.
When the American Chess Bulletin published again the London Rules, in November 1926
(pages 133–134), in addition to the new clause 22, some changes appeared in clause 13, which
now read:
13. If the champion should be seriously ill at the time of the beginning of the match he shall
have the right to postpone the commencement for a period of not over forty (40) days, provided
such a postponement shall be accepted by the challenger and the subscriber of the purse. In the
event, however, that for any valid reason serious objections are being made by the challenger or
the subscriber to the purse to the postponement, then the champion shall forfeit one-half of
his total deposit money, but his title as champion shall not be lost. In the event, however, of
the postponement being agreed to by the challenger and the subscriber to the purse and a new
date set for the match, and the champion owing to illness or other reasonable cause being still
unable to play, he shall then forfeit his title, but his whole deposit will be returned. Should the
champion for any other reason than illness be unable to play the match as agreed upon, then
the question shall be left to the referee whether or not both title and deposit money to be for-
feited.
So for the first time in its history, chess had a methodological mechanism for the realiza-
tion of the world championship on equal terms for those aspiring to the crown. From the tech-
nical point of view, the “London Rules” laid out the forms later in vogue to play the official
games, both in tournaments and in individual clashes for a period of several decades, until
chess, pressured by commercial circumstances, began to be played at a faster pace. In his time,
Capablanca’s suggestion with regard to the two hours and a half of meditation for the first
40 moves looked like a contribution as important as the famous 90 feet between bases in base-
ball, but in the end it was not as decisive as the diamond measurement proved to be.
Apparently the first competition where the recommendation of the Cuban was applied
was in the Italian Championship of 1922, played in the northern city of Milan. The
players agreed to play at that pace and then applauded it. In the United States, the first inter-
national tournament played according to the new rules for timing was held in Lake Hopat-
cong, in 1926. Capablanca’s ideas in this sense served to put an end to many years of chaos
in the time allowed per move. Until then, chess masters could not get used to a rhythm of
meditation, because the pace of each competition was different. Still in 1922, it seemed a
problem without a solution. The perfected clock was a powerful ally of the Cuban in that
fight against absurdly long games, such as the ones in the match between Staunton and Saint
Amant, in which one of the games lasted fourteen and a half hours, during which the con-
tenders could not have for themselves more than a few minutes to eat something light. Or
one of the Morphy–Paulsen games from New York 1857, in which Paulsen took two hours
to make a single move.
A timeline of the slow advances that took place in this field appeared in the article
“The Time Machine,” written by Fred Reinfeld and published in Chess Review, in December
1946. The first chess clock was a device invented in 1883 by the Englishman Thomas Bright
Wilson, but while he showed it publicly, many places continued using hourglasses. In 1900,
the Dutchman Veenhof perfected Wilson’s balance beam mechanism and turned it into a
clock of pressure that stopped the progress of either side according to a simple system of
interruption. But with that instrument not all evils were eliminated. There were various
time controls which prevented the uniformity of the pace of play and the habit of meditation
among masters. Thus, for example, in the tournament of London 1883 a time control of 15
moves per hour was applied; but in the tournament of Nuremberg 1906 there was no time
control during the first six hours of play, i.e., each player could think at his discretion. After
that, there would be a control of 15 moves per hour. In other contests the time control was
20 moves in 60 minutes; Lasker wanted to play with Capablanca at a rate of 12 moves per
hour, with sessions of no more than four hours as a whole. But Capablanca complained,
alleging that this was to suspend the game in the opening, on move 24. Soltis, in his foreword
to the 2010 Russell Enterprises edition of the Maróczy book of the Tournament of London,
1922, gave as an example that the seventh game of the 1910 Lasker–Schlechter match was
suspended after the 16th move!
Although Lasker, Nimzowitsch, Marshall and Spielmann were not in the London tour-
nament, the rules invited other recognized masters to embrace them. So, contrary to what
Garry Kasparov suggested in My Great Predecessors, Part I, a lack of presence in London did
not exclude any renowned master, as long as he committed himself to respect the rules. The
most evident proof of this is that Marshall, 1923, and Nimzowitsch, 1926, challenged Capa-
blanca though neither of them were at London nor had they signed the agreement about
the rules.
Capablanca rested a few days, and then he made a short tour of simultaneous displays
in several English cities in October, in which he achieved a total of 204 wins, 5 defeats and
8 draws. On October 7, while he was in London to play a simultaneous exhibition, the Cuban
Arístides Martínez, former president of the Manhattan Chess Club, was being buried in the
All Saints cemetery of the Episcopal Church, in Great Neck, New York. He had died two
days before, on October 5, at the age of 87. Except for a brief note in the New York Tribune,
as well as a formal resolution of the Manhattan Chess Club, published in the American Chess
Bulletin, the chess world almost ignored his death. Not so in his native country, where for
several years Juan Corzo recalled his work as a patron of chess.
On November 2, Capablanca and his wife sailed back to New York from the English
port of Southampton, on board the ocean liner President Roosevelt. Although the passenger
list only mentioned two with the surname Capablanca, actually there were three return-
ing—or even five. Gloria was at an advanced stage of pregnancy with their first son, a child
whom they would baptize José Raúl, and his father would affectionately call him “Tuto.” In
addition, they also traveled with two beautiful Persian cats which gave their owner more
headaches than some of his games in London. After his landing in New York, Capablanca
had difficulties finding an animal shelter where he could leave them, while the married couple
stayed at the Ansonia Hotel. From Manhattan, Gloria went to Havana while her husband
remained in the city, because he had some commitments to fulfill, as well as others in Prov-
idence, Rhode Island, and Cleveland, Ohio.11
One of the games of the exhibitions in New York was against Anthony Edward San-
tasiere, then 17 years old, who later produced a certain impact on American chess. The game
was of some theoretical value, since Capablanca used a new move. It has been incorrectly
stated that the move was used for the first time by the Polish-Argentine grandmaster Miguel
Najdorf, who first did it three decades later, in 1953. Hooper and Brandreth rectified the
error in The Unknown Capablanca. With this game, the Cuban took revenge for a defeat
that the young Santasiere had inflicted on him a few days earlier, on November 16, in another
simultaneous display.
Capablanca–Anthony E. Santasiere [A33]

Simultaneous Game, New York, 29 November 1922
1. d4 Nf6 2. Nf3 e6 3. c4 c5 4. Nc3 c×d4 5. N×d4 Nc6
6. Ndb5 the new move mentioned before Bb4 7. Bf4 0–0 8. Bd6
wDwDw4kD B×d6 9. N×d6 Ne8 10. e4 N×d6 Better seems 10. ...
0bDpDw0p Qb6. 11. Q×d6 Qe7 12. 0–0–0 f5 13. f3 Q×d6 14. R×d6 b6
w0w$pDw4 15. Be2 Ne5 16. Rhd1 f4 17. b4 Ba6 18. b5 Bb7 19. Kb2 Rac8
DPDwhwDw 20. Kb3 Rf6 21. a4 Rh6 22. h3 Rf8 (see diagram)
PDPDP0wD 23. a5! White has a winning position 23. ... b×a5 24. R×d7
DKHwDPDP
Stronger was 24. Ra1. 24. ... N×d7 25. R×d7 Rb8 Better is 25. ...
wDwDBDPD
DwDRDwDw Rf7. 26. c5 Rf6 27. Bc4 a6?! Allowing two connected passed
pawns. Better is 27. ... Kf8. 28. b6 With a winning position. 28. ...
After 22. … Rf8 Bc8 29. Rc7 Rf7 30. R×c8+! R×c8 31. B×e6 Rb8 32. B×f7+
K×f7 33. Nd5 Black resigned. 1–0.
11. Slipups at the Summit
As usual, Capablanca managed his time until the last minute without leaving a margin
for contingencies and got in trouble. When he was headed back to Cuba by way of Key
West, the train he was traveling in suffered some delay, which in turn forced the ferry to
Havana to suspend its departure for one day. Perhaps a minor incident that foreshadowed
black clouds in the future, but then nobody saw it that way.
The new chess champion arrived on the island just in time to attend the birth of his
son, on January 2, 1923.1 The New Year, 1923, was one in which Capablanca was totally
inactive in chess. In one of his Viejas Estampas (Old Vignettes), Gelabert describe a homey
Capablanca, personal cultivator of a rose bush and an orchard, who loved to prepare succulent
soufflés and invite his close friends to dinner. But nobody spoke of chess with him. We never
saw him in the club in those months, wrote Gelabert.
In April, Gelabert himself published what would be recognized later as the first biog-
raphy of the Cuban world champion: Glorias del tablero: Capablanca (Wonders of the Chess-
board: Capablanca), which the American Chess Bulletin reviewed in its May-June issue (page
92) of the same year:
“Wonders of the Chessboard—Capablanca.” By Jose A. Gelabert, former President of the
Havana Chess Club—226 pages, 6 × 9½ inches, edited by the author at Havana, April 1923.
This book, written in the Spanish language, gives a detailed biography of the World’s Chess
Champion and contains 100 of his best games. A brief sketch on the exploits of the world’s chess
champion precedes the work. Then Capablanca’s career is followed step by step up to the present
day. His matches with Marshall, Kostich [sic] and Lasker are reported in full. The annotations
are extensive and reliable. They are based on actual commentaries made by such authorities as
Capablanca himself, Emanuel Lasker, Tarrasch, Janowski, Mieses and other masters of world-
wide range. The reader is therefore sure not to miss any of the fine points in the games. Crucial
positions are usually accompanied by diagrams. The volume contains furthermore many illustra-
tions, some of which are of considerable historical value. Among other items of interest, which
we have noticed in the book, is Capablanca’s short match with Delmar, which took place when
the former was only 18 years old. Giving the American expert the odds of Pawn and Move, he
won every game of the three that were played. We recommend the book as being the most com-
prehensive work yet published of Capablanca’s achievement, and we feel that it should find a
place in the libraries of all his admirers.
That year Capablanca built for his family a house on the Buena Vista hill, named after
the excellent sea view that is enjoyed from its heights. The hill was in the city of Marianao,
near to Havana, where in addition to exclusive clubs along the coast, the house was situated
in a high and wooded area close to the Casino de la Playa that hosted his match against
275
Lasker. In honor of his wife, Capablanca called it “Villa Gloria.” One of the curiosities of
the dwelling was that the ceiling of the dining room showed a mosaic made of ceramic tiles
with the final position of the fourteenth and last game of the match for the World Chess
Championship in 1921. Journalist Guillermo Pi visited the house on October 9, 1925, a day
before Capablanca left for a tournament in Moscow, and wrote:
Yesterday, I just visited him. He already expected me in his home, in the cute little chalet in
Buena Vista that occupies a corner with 180 meters of frontage on Fourth Avenue. The house is
at the center and all the space that surrounds it is garden. José Raúl showed me the fruits that he
has sown; the land is very fertile, as it is Cuban land, after all. There he has clumps of mango, of
different kinds, avocados, anemones, tamarinds, custard apple, plum and also a well-maintained
little fresh vegetable garden, which supplies the family. What abounds more in the garden is
spinach. There is a reason. The heir of José Raúl, a cute boy of three years and a half who is
named after his father, takes breakfast with boiled spinach and two eggs, in addition to milk.2
Buena Vista was then a residential area of the upper middle class, subject to enormous
land speculation because of its proximity to the sea and its being bordered on the southwest
by the so-called “Garden City” of Miramar, where the millionaires lived. At the same time,
it provided access from the east to the then unspoiled lands of the neighborhoods of Country
Club and Kohly, where the most sumptuous mansions of Cuba, surrounded by golf courses,
were built.3 It is difficult to know if the purchase of these properties was a good or bad invest-
ment for Capablanca, but the date coincided with the peak of speculation time. What leaves
no doubt is that he had fully gotten into the real estate business, as can be checked with the
readings of his certificate of divorce, the division of property following his death, as well as
the answer “landlord,” when he was asked his profession in some of his sea travels. The New
York World (October 25, 1925) highlighted his involvement in this kind of operation: “Capa-
blanca, besides being world’s chess champion, is a real estate man of considerable note in
Cuba, having large holdings in Havana, where he resides.”4 But at this stage of his life not
everything was a pleasant affair: On July 28 his father José María Capablanca died, at 60
years of age, as a result of a fall from his horse in the old property “El Destino”; the injury
caused him an infection that led to gangrene. The Havana newspapers published the news
about the death of the world chess champion’s father without informing readers that it
occurred as a result of an accident.5
In 1923, while Capablanca was enjoying home life in Havana, Lasker returned to chess
with a resounding victory in the tournament of Maehrich Ostrau (Moravska Ostrava), to
which Capablanca was also invited. But the Cuban did not attend, maybe because of his
business projects, but perhaps because he did not want to leave his wife alone, now that a
new member of the family was born. In addition, one of the problems facing Capablanca
when traveling to Europe was that the organizers of these events usually paid the passage for
European participants, but those from overseas had to afford their own tickets from America.
Sometimes, Capablanca managed to get those expenses paid by the Cuban government as
part of a diplomatic mission, or through contracts for exhibitions at the place of destination.
But it was not always that way.
On May 18, Capablanca received a letter dated in New York from the Austrian natu-
ralized American Norbert Lederer, a successful entrepreneur and active member of the Man-
hattan Chess Club. Lederer later became famous in literary circles for having recommended
that Willard Huntington Wright, better known by his pen name S.S. Van Dine, should
devote his life to writing crime novels. In the letter, Lederer mentioned to Capablanca the
general idea of organizing a tournament in New York City in 1924. In his reply, Capablanca
reiterated his decision of not playing in tournaments unless he received financial compen-
sation. He clarified, however, that he would make exceptions when circumstances required
it. In this specific case, he seemed inclined to participate in the event in order to stimulate
chess in the United States, provided that the prizes were not less than $1,000 for the winner
and $700 for second place, in addition to the regular expenses for the invited masters.
In the correspondence that Capablanca received that year there was a letter from Mar-
shall dated September 24 in which the American enquired about the conditions required
to play a match for the world crown, adding that perhaps there was some prior commitment.
The letter revealed that Marshall was not duly aware of the regulations adopted in the British
capital, except for some comments about them. It should be mentioned that the “London
Rules” were not fully disclosed by the press, perhaps with the exception of England’s. Even
there, the explanations were brief. For example, the (London) Times of August 10, 1922,
mentioned that the masters participating in the tournament had approved the conditions
proposed by the Cuban for future world chess championships; and the Observer, August 13,
qualified them as “entirely fair and reasonable.”6 Marshall’s challenge said:
Mr. Jose R. Capablanca, Chess Champion of the World
Havana, Cuba.
Dear Mr. Capablanca.
Upon the suggestion of several friends, I write to ask you upon what terms you would play me
a match. I know that there may be other masters in line, but should they fail to put up their for-
feits, I am ready to step into the ring and believe many Americans would like to see such a con-
test.
Hoping to have the pleasure of a reply, I remain sincerely yours,
Frank J. Marshall.
New York, September 24, 1923.7
Capablanca responded to Marshall in two parts, the first dated October 6:
Dear Mr. Marshall
Your letter of September 24th is at hand. Any match I play must be for the championship of
course. As the conditions are well known, all you have to do is meet them and I shall have no
objection to play. Let me know at your earlier convenience whether or not you can meet the
championship conditions, and, if you can, please let me know who will guarantee the required
purses, etc.
Sincerely yours,
J.R. Capablanca.8
The second, more extensive letter from Capablanca to Marshall was also published in
the American Chess Bulletin, in its December 1923 issue:
Union Club, Havana
December 11, 1923.
Dear Mr. Marshall:
Your letter reached me on time but illness in my family and urgent occupations prevented my
taking up the matter before. If you take the trouble to read the conditions for the World’s Chess
Championship carefully, you will find that all important points have been covered. It remains to
you, in order to continue these pourparlers, to deposit your forfeit of $500.00 [almost $7,000 in
2015] with the stakeholder. To that effect, I suggest Mr. F.E. Khan as stakeholder and Mr. Walter
Penn Shipley as referee. The championship conditions make it practically impossible for the
match to be played in more than two cities.
You will also be notified that in order for us to play under the above rules and regulations you
must agree, should you ever become champion, to defend the title under exactly the same condi-
tions. Please bear in mind that you must post your forfeit at once and that, in case you are
unable to obtain the funds required, etc., the $500.00 will become my property.
Let me know at your earliest convenience if you are ready to meet the requirements essential
to carry on these negotiations.
Sincerely yours,
J.R. Capablanca.
The epistolary exchange coincided with Alekhine’s first trip to North America. On
November 8, the Russian departed from the French port of Cherbourg to the Canadian city
of Montreal. Alekhine had arranged a considerable number of exhibitions in Canada and
the United States, clear evidence that his popularity was much larger than Rubinstein’s. One
of the main objectives of Alekhine’s trip, as he himself said, was seeking support for a match
for the world championship. This was written by him in a letter to Capablanca from Mon-
treal, dated November 28, to clarify some misinterpretations in one interview, in which he
spoke about his chances of victory in the event of a match against the Cuban. When the
correspondent of the London Times Weekly in Havana asked Capablanca about this new
encounter at the summit, the world champion replied that the imminence of this match
lacked a real foundation, as Alekhine himself acknowledged in his letter.
But the correspondence between Capablanca and Marshall got Alekhine nervous,
because the second letter from the Cuban to the American did not mention that there was
someone ahead of Marshall in the list of challengers, or someone with an official status of
exclusive preference, as Rubinstein enjoyed in 1922. In that, Capablanca was in the right,
because he had not received a formal challenge from any master, including Alekhine. Formal
defiance meant to Capablanca the deposit of the forfeit. However, press releases from those
years let it be known that after the Polish master, the Cuban would give priority to Alekhine.
In his responses to Marshall, Capablanca addressed the subject of the challenge of the Amer-
ican with a practical nature under the principle “first come, first served,” provided that the
candidate had the money to back up his challenge and was a “recognized master.” In Capa-
blanca: Third World Chess Champion, Isaak and Vladimir Linder wrote incorrectly that the
“London Rules” “allowed the champion to choose his opponent, who did not necessarily
have to be the strongest challenger.” Or even worse, that Capablanca repeatedly made use
of those “unfortunate stipulations.” On the other hand, without an organization that penal-
ized its breach the London regulations were rather more of a gentlemen’s agreement than a
contractual code with legal force.
In addition, the established purse of $10,000 (about $142,000 in 2015) was less than
half of what was gathered in Havana for the match between Lasker and Capablanca, which
ultimately reached $25,000 (more than $333,000). When a disillusioned Lasker wanted to
surrender his crown to Capablanca, he did so because “the chess world” had not been able,
or had not been interested enough, to meet even the $8,000 (about $105,000) that both
had agreed upon as a minimum purse for celebrating a competition so exhausting and requir-
ing such a long period of time. If in 1920, Lasker demanded, with the consent of Capablanca,
$8,000, then the figure of $10,000 was not an exaggeration, nor was it, as suggested the
Linders, “golden walls of protection” in order to avoid any challenge. Back in 1858,
Staunton refused a purse of $5,000, in addition to $1,000 of expenses, to play against Morphy
in New Orleans, because the Briton considered it too little money for a “too formidable
enterprise.”
Until then, the only first-class player who had a favorable record against Capablanca
was Rubinstein, with a victory and two draws in three games. Despite that, Capablanca had
in London the courtesy to grant him a full year, without a deposit of good faith, to put his
affairs in order. The Cuban did not act so gently with any other challenger. Alekhine himself
confessed in 1932 to a German magazine that in 1924, he had not a firm economic basis to
support his desire to play a match for the championship. Even on the date on which he tried
to encourage the possibility of a match against Capablanca during his first visit to New York,
his game had defects that needed to be remedied. However, that perception of his game was
not an obstacle to his promotion of the possibility of the championship. The most remote
antecedents of the intentions of the Russian master can be found in a letter he sent to the
Cuban from The Hague on November 7, 1921, after his victory in the tournament in that
city over Rubinstein. In the letter, Alekhine told Capablanca about his remarkable triumph
and his right to be considered as a legitimate challenger, which undoubtedly he was.
During his new endeavors in this same regard in New York, Alekhine was supported
initially by Lederer, although the latter estimated that collecting the necessary money for a
match against Capablanca was an uphill project. However, some influential people, such as
Harry Latz, manager of the Hotel Alamac, did not seem to consider the idea so bad the first
time they heard about it. But Latz made it clear that his contribution would be for a maximum
of $2,500 (about $35,000).
Although the idea of the match was unsuccessful, Lederer thought that the figure offered
by Latz provided a solid basis upon which to try to bring about the organization of a master
tournament. An impressive man six feet five inches tall, Latz promised to provide food and
lodging for the visiting masters, as well as to book one of the banquet rooms of the hotel to
play the competition. Lederer then took on the task of convincing Herbert Limburg, the
president of the Manhattan Chess Club, that this institution should contribute funds for
the event. Such were the origins of the New York tournament of 1924, in which Alekhine
played a prominent role with his presence in the city.9
While the Cuban had given his agreement to play in the tournament at the first of Feb-
ruary, his participation was in danger until the last minute because Gloria got sick; it was
necessary for her to have an operation, and she did not leave the hospital until March 2.
Therefore, for several days Capablanca had to give parental attention to small Tuto, who
also was sick with a high fever. Capablanca finally arrived in Key West aboard the ferry Cuba
on March 4. There he boarded the express train Havana Special, which took him to Penn
Station in Manhattan two days later.10 The tournament marked the world champion’s return
to chess after an absence of nearly 15 months, since his display of simultaneous games in
Cleveland on December 12, 1922.
When currently it is said that a player is inactive, it means that he has been a time with-
out participating in competitions, but he still regularly receives chess publications, and in
this way, he is kept up to date on what is happening internationally. But when the term was
applied to Capablanca, it was done in the true sense of the word. In 15 months he possibly
did not browse a magazine, or even play a blitz game, among other things, because there
were no rivals for him in Cuba. Nor is there evidence that he played a simultaneous exhibition
or gave a lecture on the island. Perhaps that is why when journalists asked him about his
chances in the tournament, he was pessimistic. The press commented that it was modesty
or a lack of objectivity from the world champion, but Capablanca had reasons not to be
optimistic about his performance.
On March 7, the world champion played against 33 rivals in the Brooklyn Chess Club,
defeating 25, with 4 losses and 4 draws. That day, Capablanca had a flu attack so strong that
he asked those present not to smoke. Colds were frequent for him, which does not seem to
have been because of a weak body, but because of his disregard of the danger. On one occasion,
referring to his winter experiences in Russia (from 1913 to 1914), he said that there he
was forced to use Siberian leather boots up to the knee and a mask that covered his face.
On the other hand, he explained that in New York, Boston, Philadelphia or Chicago, he did
not try to keep warm with wool socks, which he seems to have detested, or thick underwear.
His only defense against the cold, in addition to the coat and the shirt, was a regular T-
shirt.11
Despite his physical discomfort, Capablanca faced 41 members of the Franklin Chess
Club in Philadelphia the next day, with the result of 27 wins, 5 loses and 9 draws. On March
11, a blitz tournament (10 seconds per move) was carried out in New York with the partici-
pation of 18 players, of which seven were going to take part in the upcoming master tour-
nament. After losing a game in his qualifying group at the hands of Samuel Katz, Capablanca
won the final series held between him, Tartakower, Maróczy and other two first-rate fans of
the city. This competition and the simultaneous displays were the only training of the Cuban
for the tournament.
For the so-called hypermodern players, the tournament of New York 1924 was one of
the great real tests. As Reuben Fine wrote (The World’s Great Chess Games, 1983), “the Hyper-
modern School was essentially a revolt against the rigid formalism of Tarrasch and his fol-
lowers. The hypermoderns rebelled against both the man and his ideas.” The American
master also expanded his approach to hypermodernism this way:
Tarrasch had a simplified version of chess theory. White must open with P–K4 or P–Q4; who-
ever occupies the center and develops most quickly gets the better game. Not so, said the hyper-
moderns. It is not the occupation of the center per se that counts, it is control. In fact, it is often
disadvantageous to occupy the center too soon, because the occupation will shortly be chal-
lenged and the result will be a collection of weaknesses, they contended. … Since control is bet-
ter than occupation, the hypermoderns reasoned, flank development is better than central.
Hence all the flanchetto variations sprang up, for both White and Black, which constitute so
much of the modern master repertoire. … The opening must be treated as though it were a mid-
dle game. By this they meant that every opening move must fit into some well-conceived plan
and that the pawn formation must be played with a view to the endgame.
Probably one spark that contributed to hypermodernism was Capablanca’s concept of

the inititative instead of the simple development. The Cuban was less impressed with the
hypermodernist trend and in his foreword to the reissue of 1934 of his Chess Fundamentals,
wrote: “The Hypermodern Theory is merely the application, during the opening stages gen-
erally, of the same old principles through the medium of somewhat new tactics. There has
been no change in the fundamentals. The change has been only a change of form, and not
always for the best at that.”
Capablanca started the tournament slowly, with draws in his first four games. In some
of them he had to force the draw, as against Janowski (who played White) in the first round,
in which the Cuban’s sacrifice of a knight opened the door for a perpetual check in a clearly
inferior position. There was some tension on the board in his first encounter against Emanuel
Lasker (White) after their match of three years earlier, but it ended in a draw. Against Edward
Lasker (Black), he got a slight advantage in space, with combinatory possibilities. But, playing
with not much energy, this was insufficient to give him the victory. Perhaps his tentativeness
was due to his physical discomfort from the flu he suffered. With Alekhine (Black), the
Cuban got what seemed to be the decisive advantage of a pawn, but then he did not find a
winning strategy in a rook ending.
In the fifth round came the surprise of his famous defeat at the hands of Réti (who
played White), the Cuban’s first since he had surrendered his king against Oscar Chajes
on January 21, 1916, in the final phase of the Rice Chess Club Tournament. With this set-
back, Capablanca fell below the 50 percent mark. After his defeat against Réti, one of the
spectators (never named) said: “This is the end of Capa. He has been spoiled by continued
success and cannot stand defeat. He will drift downward now.” That was followed by a racist
statement as a supposed natural cause of his near collapse: “He is of a Latin race.” Horace
Bigelow, who heard the conversation and then reported it in the American Chess Bulletin,
responded with the famous anecdote that occurred in the ring at the Polo Grounds, New
York, on September 14, 1923, when he told a never identified spectator: “Firpo [Luis Angel,
the Argentinian boxer], also a Latin, got up after [ Jack] Dempsey knocked him down seven
times and then knocked Dempsey out of the ring.”12 The next day, Capablanca began his
slow recovery with a gem against Tartakower (Black). This game, immortalized by the sac-
rifice of two pawns in a rook ending, was later included by Réti in his book Masters of the
Chessboard.
Capablanca–Savielly S. Tartakower [A85]

6th Round, New York, 23 March 1924
1. d4 e6 2. Nf3 f5 3. c4 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. Nc3 0–0 6. e3 b6 7. Bd3 Bb7 8. 0–0 Qe8
Better seems 8. ... Nc6 9. Rc1 h6 10. Bh4 Ne4 11. B×e7 N×e7 12. B×e4 f×e4 13. Nd2 d5
14. Qg4 Rf6 15. Ne2 Qd6 with an even game. Nogueiras–Yusupov, Rotterdam 1989. 9. Qe2
Ne4 10. B×e7 N×c3 11. b×c3 Q×e7 12. a4 B×f3?! Better seems 12. ... Nc6 13. Rfb1
Rab8. 13. Q×f3 Nc6 14. Rfb1 Rae8 15. Qh3 Rf6 16. f4 Na5 17. Qf3 d6 18. Re1 Qd7 19. e4
f×e4 20. Q×e4 g6 21. g3 Kf8 22. Kg2 Rf7 23. h4 d5 24. c×d5 e×d5 25. Q×e8+ Q×e8
26. R×e8+ K×e8 27. h5! Rf6 28. h×g6 h×g6 29. Rh1 Kf8 30. Rh7 Rc6 31. g4 Nc4 If 31. ...
R×c3 32. B×g6 winning. 32. g5 Ne3+ 33. Kf3 Nf5 If 33. ... Nd1 34. B×g6! R×g6 35. R×c7
Rg7 36. Rc8+ Kf7 37. c4 d×c4 38. d5 c3 39. Rc7+ Kg8 40. d6 Nb2 41. f5 N×a4 42. R×g7+
K×g7 43. d7 c2 44. d8=Q c1=Q 45. Qe7+ Kg8 46. Qe8+ Kg7 47. f6+ Kh7 48. Qf7+ Kh8
49. Qg7 mate. 34. B×f5 g×f5 (see diagram)
35. Kg3! R×c3+ 36. Kh4 Rf3 If 36. ... a6 37. Kh5 b5 wDwDwiwD
38. Kg6 b×a4 39. K×f5 a3 40. Rh6 a2 41. R×a6 Rc2 42. Ke5 Kf7 0w0wDwDR
43. K×d5 Rf2 44. Ke5 Re2+ 45. Kf5 Rf2 46. Ra7 winning (Igor w0rDwDwD
Zaitsev). 37. g6 R×f4+ 38. Kg5 Re4 39. Kf6! Kg8 40. Rg7+ DwDpDp)w
Kh8 41. R×c7 Re8 42. K×f5 Re4 43. Kf6 Rf4+ 44. Ke5 Rg4 PDw)w)wD
45. g7+ Kg8 If 45. ... R×g7 46. R×g7 K×g7 47. K×d5 Kf7 Dw)wDKDw
48. Kc6 Ke7 49. d5 Kd8 50. Kb7 winning. 46. R×a7 Rg1 wDwDwDwD
47. K×d5 Rc1 48. Kd6 Rc2 49. d5 Rc1 50. Rc7 Ra1 51. Kc6 DwDwDwDw
R×a4 52. d6 Black resigned. 1–0. After 34. … g×f5
Capablanca continued his improvement in the standings when he defeated Yates (Black)
in the next round. The game was included by Tartakower in his 500 Master Games of Chess
and by Roberto Grau in his Tratado General de Ajedrez, Tomo IV: Estrategia Superior. After
a drawn game against Maróczy in round 8, there followed a classic triumph against
Bogoljubow.
Efim D. Bogoljubow–Capablanca [D05]

1. d4 Nf6 2. Nf3 d5 3. e3 e6 4. Bd3 c5 5. b3 Nc6 6. 0–0 Bd6 7. Bb2 0–0 8. Nbd2
8. a3 Qe7 9. Ne5 is more accurate (Kasparov). 8. ... Qe7 9. Ne5 c×d4 10. e×d4 Ba3 11. B×a3
Better seems 11. Qc1 B×b2 12. Q×b2 Bd7 13. a3. 11. ... Q×a3 12. Ndf3 Better is 12. N×c6
b×c6 13. Qc1. 12. ... Bd7 13. N×c6 B×c6 14. Qd2 Rac8 15. c3 15. Ne5 (Alekhine). 15. ...
a6 16. Ne5 Bb5 17. f3 Better is 17. c4 d×c4 18. b×c4 Bc6 19. Qe3 Qd6 20. Rfd1 Rfd8 with
chances for both sides. 17. ... B×d3 18. N×d3 Rc7 19. Rac1 Rfc8 20. Rc2 Ne8! Aiming for
b5 21. Rfc1 Nd6 22. Ne5 If 22. Nc5 b6 23. Na4 Rc6 (Alekhine). For example: 24. Qe2 Nb5
and Black is better. Black has another possibility with 23. ... Nf5 24. Nd3 a5 25. g4 Nd6
26. Nb2 h6 27. Qe5 Rc6 28. Na4 Nb5 and Black is better. If 22. Qe3 h6 23. g3 a5 24. Nc5
b6 25. Na4 Rc6 26. Re1 Nf5 and Black is better. 22. ... Qa5 23. a4 If 23. Nd3 Nb5 24. Nc5
b6 25. Na4 h6 26. Qd3 Nd6 27. Rd2 Qb5 28. Re1 Q×d3
29. R×d3 Rb8 30. Kf2 Rc6 and Black is better. 23. ... Qb6
wDrDwDkD 24. Nd3 If 24. Rb2 Nf5 25. Rcc2 f6 26. Ng4 e5 winning. If 24. b4
1wDwDp0p a5 25. b5 (if 25. b×a5 Q×a5 26. h4 h6 27. h5 Nc4 28. N×c4
pDwDpDwD R×c4 29. Rb1 b6 30. Rb5 Q×a4 31. R×b6 R×d4 32. c×d4 R×c2
0nHpDwDw 33. Rb8+ Kh7 34. Qd3+ f5 winning) 25. ... Nc4 26. N×c4 R×c4
wDr)wDwD 27. Ra2 f6 28. Raa1 e5 winning. 24. ... Q×b3 25. Nc5 Qb6
Dw)wDPDw 26. Rb2 Qa7 27. Qe1 b6 28. Nd3 Rc4 29. a5 If 29. Ra2 Qc7
wDwDRDP)
Dw$w!wIw 30. Ra3 Nf5 winning. 29. ... b×a5 30. Nc5 Nb5 31. Re2 (see
diagram)
After 31. Re2 31. ... N×d4! 32. c×d4 R8xc5! White resigned. 0–1.
In the next round, Capablanca lost the opportunity to obtain a full point against
Marshall (Black), who defended himself very well down a pawn, after he had let slip an
easy victory against Emanuel Lasker on the previous round. Then there followed an insipid
draw with Alekhine (White), since both players were more interested in the desperate posi-
tion of Emanuel Lasker against Janowski than in their own. When Lasker recovered one
more time, both interested spectators felt discouraged. Even though Capablanca defeated
Emanuel Lasker (Black) in the fourteenth round, he failed to reach him, because despite
that victory, the Cuban was still a point away from the German. In addition to the fight over
the board, the game was the beginning of a long and bitter controversy between Lasker and
Lederer.
In summary, this was what happened that day. According to Lasker, his clock had a
malfunction and scored more time against him. According to Lederer, the clock had no
problems, but Lasker simply forgot to press the button that stopped the working mechanism.
Lederer, without Lasker being present, stopped the clock in moments that both Capablanca’s
and Lasker’s were running at the same time. Then he restored eight minutes to the former
champion, although Lasker said the difference was 15, plus another 23 minutes by the delay
of repairing the clock. To Lasker’s complaint that this clock controversy left him pressed for
time, Lederer said that the Cuban was the only one pressed by time, as the chess notation
sheet of the tournament showed.13
Subsequent analyses, including Alekhine’s, showed that the Cuban let escape a winning
move: 29. N×d5. It may be assumed that this happened because of the time shortage
mentioned by Lederer. The tournament was played at the rate of 30 moves in two hours.
Lasker submitted a similar complaint during the first game of his match against Capablanca
in 1921, in which he also failed to press the button that stopped his clock. Therefore, it is
permissible to assume that Lasker again suffered such lapses in manipulating his clock, or at
least when he played against Capablanca. Lasker’s problem with clocks went beyond his
fights with these chess artifacts; even at home, when he felt that a clock did not keep correct
time he immediately threw it into the trash can with the phrase, “I will not suffer liars in
my house.” For him, as Dr. J. Hannak told in Lasker’s biography, “It is a clock’s business to
tell the time.”14

14th Round, New York, 5 April 1924
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 c6 3. Nc3 d5 4. c×d5 c×d5 5. Nf3 Nc6 6. Bf4 e6 7. e3 Be7 8. Bd3 0–
0 9. 0–0 Preferred nowadays is 9. h3 Bd7 10. 0–0 Qb6 11. a3 Na5 12. b4 Nc4 13. Ne5! Rac8
14. B×c4 d×c4 15. Bg5 Qd8 16. Qf3 Bc6 17. N×c6 R×c6 18. Rad1 Nd5 19. B×e7 N×e7
20. e4 a6 21. d5 with advantage. Portisch–Petrosian, Palma de Mallorca 1974. 9.... Nh5
10. Be5 f5 11. Rc1 Nf6 12. B×f6 g×f6 If 12. ... B×f6 13. Na4–c5 (Alekhine). 13. Nh4 Kh8
14. f4 Rg8 15. Rf3 Bd7 16. Rh3 Be8 If 16. ... Qf8? 17. N×d5 e×d5 18. N×f5 B×f5 19. B×f5
Rg7 20. Qb3! with “excellent chances of victory owing to the weakness of the adversary’s
white squares” (Alekhine). 17. a3 Rg7 18. Rg3 R×g3 19. h×g3 Rc8 20. Kf2 Na5 21. Qf3
“Plainly a loss of time” (Alekhine). 21. ... Nc4 22. Qe2 Nd6 23. Rh1 Ne4+ Alekhine con-
sidered this move premature and suggested 23. ... Qd7; or 23. ... Rc7. 24. B×e4 f×e4 25. Qg4!
f5 (see diagram)
26. N×f5! e×f5 27. Q×f5 h5 28. g4 Rc6 29. g5 Better is wDr1bDwi
29. N×d5 Rc2+ (If 29. . . . Bh4+ 30. g3 Rc2+ 31. Kg1 Rc1+ 0pDwgwDp
32. Kg2 Rc2+ 33. Kh3 h×g4+ 34. K×g4 Bd7 35. R×h4+ Q×h4+ wDwDpDwD
36. g×h4 B×f5+ 37. K×f5 R×b2 38. Ke6 Kg7 39. f5 Kf8 40. h5 DwDpDpDw
Ra2 41. f6 R×a3 42. h6 Ra6+ 43. Kf5 Kg8 44. Ne7+ winning wDw)p)QH
[Alekhine].) 30. Kg3 h4+ 31. Kh3 Qd6 32. Q×e4 Bc6 33. Q×c2 )wHw)w)w
Q×d5 34. Rf1 winning. 29. ... Kg8 Better is 29. ... Rd6 30. g4
w)wDwIPD
DwDwDwDR
Kg8 31. g×h5 Qd7 32. Q×d7 B×d7 “and the two Bishops would
have been quite able to withstand the pressure of the passed After 25. … f5
Pawns” (Alekhine). 30. N×d5 Bf7 31. N×e7+ Q×e7 32. g4
h×g4? “A simple drawing variation would have been 32. ... Rc2+ 33. Kg3 (after 33. Kg1 Qc7
Black would actually obtain a mating attack—Alekhine) 33. ... Re2 34. g6 h4+ 35. R×h4
R×e3+ 36. Kg2 Re2+ 37. Kf1 Re1+ “and White could not have escaped perpetual check”
(Alekhine). 33. Qh7+ Kf8 34. Rh6 Bg8 If 34. ... R×h6 35. Q×h6+ Kg8 36. g6 Bb3 37. f5
Qc7 38. Qh4! g3+ 39. Kg2 Bd1 40. f6 Bf3+ 41. Kh3 Qd7+ 42. K×g3 Qc7+ 43. Qf4 Q×f4+
44. K×f4 winning. 35. Qf5+ Kg7 36. R×c6 b×c6 37. Kg3 Qe6? Better is 37. ... Bd5
38. Q×g4 Qb7 39. b4 Qa6 “and, after the entrance of the Black queen, White could not
have avoided perpetual check” (Alekhine). 38. K×g4! Now White is winning 38. ... Q×f5+
39. K×f5 Bd5 40. b4 a6 41. Kg4 Bc4 42. f5 Bb3 43. Kf4 Bc2 44. Ke5 Kf7 45. a4 Kg7
46. d5! B×a4 47. d6 c5 48. b×c5 Bc6 49. Ke6 a5 50. f6+ Black resigned. 1–0.
Capablanca finally caught up with Emanuel Lasker (in point of fact, only nominally,
because he had played one more game than the German) when he won in good style against
Janowski (Black). This was the last time that the two would face each other. The Polish-
French master died on January 15, 1925, in Hyères, France.
Capablanca–Dawid M. Janowski [A09]

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 Better
is 8. Nbd2 (Capablanca). 8. ... c×d4 White is playing a Modern Benoni Reversed, called by
Alekhine a “White Indian Opening.” This is interesting, because it is thought that the first
Modern Benoni games with Black were Capablanca–Marshall and Nimzowitsch–Marshall,
both played in New York 1927. 9. a3 a5 10. Nbd2 Ng6 11. Re1 0–0 12. Qc2 Re8 13. b3 h6
Better is 13. ... f6 (Alekhine). 14. Rb1 Be6 15. h4 15. c5 Bf8 16. b4 a×b4 17. a×b4 Ra2 clearly
would have been premature (Alekhine). 15. ... Rc8 Just the kind of move for which White
had hoped. Better is 15. ... Qe7 (Alekhine). 16. c5 Bb8 If 16. ... Bf8 17. h5 (Alekhine). 17. Nc4
f6 18. Bd2 Kh8 19. b4 a×b4 20. a×b4 Na7 21. Qc1 Nb5 22. Nh2 22. B×h6 Nc3 23. Ra1
B×c4 24. d×c4 e4 is good for Black. 22. ... Qe7 23. Ra1 Rc7
wgwDr1wi 24. Ra5 Bd7 25. Nb6 Bc6 26. Qc4 Na7 27. Nd5 B×d5
hpDwDw0w 28. Q×d5 f5 29. Qf3 Qf6 30. h5 Ne7 31. g4! f4 32. Qe4 Nec6
wDnDrDQ0 33. Raa1 Rce7 34. Qg6 Qf8 35. Nf3 Re6 (see diagram)
Dw)w0wDP 36. Nh4! Rf6 If 36. ... Qg8 37. Bd5 (Alekhine). 37. Be4
w)w0w0PD Qg8 38. Bd5 Ne7 If 38. ... Qf8 39. Qe4 (Alekhine). 39. Q×f6
DwDPDNDw g×f6 40. B×g8 R×g8 41. f3 f5 42. B×f4 Nec6 43. Ng6+ Kh7
wDwGw)BD If 43. ... R×g6 44. h×g6 e×f4 45. Re8+ Kg7 46. R×b8 winning
$wDw$wIw (Alekhine). 44. B×e5 N×e5 45. R×e5 B×e5 46. R×a7 Black
After 35. … Re6 resigned. 1–0.
In the last rounds Capablanca scored five points of six possible. Yates and Marshall
narrowly escaped him, but not Edward Lasker, Tartakower, Réti and Bogoljubow. He thus
finished a brilliant second half in which he accumulated 7 wins and 3 draws, beginning
with wins over Emanuel Lasker and Géza Maróczy. The second game against Tartakower
(who was White) was a beautiful punishment. Simply put, you could not play a King’s Gam-
bit against Capablanca. The last player who had such audacity was Isidor Gunsberg in Saint
Petersburg, 1914, and the Hungarian-English player had lasted 26 moves. Tartakower reached
30.
Capablanca once told Hans Kmoch, in regard to a book the Cuban suggested they
write together, that any third-category amateur could beat a master if he was facing a King’s
Gambit. Since Kmoch had to put on paper what for the Cuban was easy to demon-
strate, but maybe not for him, the Austrian chose not to follow through with such a joint
project.
Savielly S. Tartakower–Capablanca [C33]

1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Be2?! d5 4. e×d5 Nf6 5. c4 c6 6. d4 Keres recommends 6. Nc3 c×d5
7. c×d5. But Black is better after 7. … N×d5 6. ... Bb4+ 7. Kf1 If 7. Nc3 Ne4; if 7. Bd2 Ne4
8. B×b4? Qh4+ 9. g3 f×g3 winning (Alekhine). 7. ... c×d5 8. B×f4 8. c5 (Alekhine). But after
8. … Ne4 9. Nf3 0–0 Black is much better. 8. ... d×c4 9. B×b8 Nd5! 10. Kf2 If 10. Bf4 Qf6. 10. ...
R×b8 11. B×c4 0–0 12. Nf3 Nf6 13. Nc3 b5! 14. Bd3 If 14. N×b5 Ne4+ 15. Kg1 a6 16. Nc3
N×c3 17. b×c3 B×c3 18. Rc1 Bb2 with a decisive advantage. 14. ...
Ng4+ 15. Kg1 Bb7 16. Bf5 B×f3 17. g×f3 (see diagram) w4w1w4kD
17. ... Ne3! 18. B×h7+ If 18. Qd3 Qg5+ 19. Bg4 B×c3 0wDwDp0p
20. b×c3 f5 winning. 18. ... Kh8 19. Qd3 B×c3 20. b×c3 Nd5! wDwDwDwD
Better than 20. ... Qg5+ 21. Kf2 Rfe8 22. Be4 (Alekhine). 21. Be4 DpDwDBDw
Nf4 22. Qd2 Qh4 23. Kf1 f5 24. Bc6 If 24. Bc2 Qh3+ 25. Kf2 wgw)wDnD
Qg2+ 26. Ke3 Rbe8+ 27. K×f4 g5 mate. 24. ... Rf6 25. d5 Rd8 DwHwDPDw
26. Rd1 R×c6 27. d×c6 R×d2 28. R×d2 Ne6 29. Rd6 Qc4+
P)wDwDw)
$wDQDwIR
30. Kg2 Qe2+ White resigned. 0–1.
After 17. g×f3
Despite his defeat against Capablanca, the tournament was
one of the biggest successes of Emanuel Lasker, who finished first with 16 points, followed
by Capablanca with 14½. Alekhine was third with 12 points. Thus, in a period of 10 years
after the St. Petersburg 1914 tournament, the Russian master had failed to advance a step
when competing in events where Lasker and Capablanca took part. Some pointed out that
Lasker was lucky in many games that were in a lost position, just as Capablanca had said of
the performance of the German in St. Petersburg, 1914. So once more there was pointless
talk of a “moral” winner against a “real” winner, but the truth is that Lasker had at least five
games on the verge of defeat, two of them (against Marshall and Janowski) in which he was
ready to resign.
As Fred Reinfeld wrote in The Human Side of Chess (1953, pages 130–131): “Tarrasch
wrote a book about Lasker’s match with Marshall [for the world championship; played in
five American cities in 1907], proving—to his own satisfaction, at least—that Marshall
should have won the match.” But, Reinfeld added, Tarrasch did not realize that “Post-
mortems can accomplish many things, but they cannot bring the corpse back to life.” In
addition, Capablanca’s performance was not immaculate, because in the last round he won
New York 1924

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
1 Lasker, Emanuel • ½-0 1-½ ½-1 1-1 1-1 1-1 ½-1 ½-1 ½-1 1-1 16
2 Capablanca, José R. ½-1 • ½-½ ½-½ 0-1 ½-1 1-1 1-1 1-½ ½-1 ½-1 141⁄2
3 Alekhine, Alexander 0-½ ½-½ • ½-½ 1-0 1-½ ½-½ ½-½ 1-1 ½-½ 1-1 12
4 Marshall, Frank J. ½-0 ½-½ ½-½ • ½-1 0-½ 0-1 ½-0 ½-1 1-½ 1-1 11
5 Réti, Richard 0-0 1-0 0-1 ½-0 • ½-½ 0-1 1-1 1-0 1-0 1-1 101⁄2
6 Maróczy, Géza 0-0 ½-0 0-½ 1-½ ½-½ • 0-1 ½-½ 1-1 ½-1 1-0 10
7 Bogoljubow, Efim 0-0 0-0 ½-½ 1-0 1-0 1-0 • 0-1 1-1 ½-1 0-1 91⁄2
8 Tartakower, Savielly ½-0 0-0 ½-½ ½-1 0-0 ½-½ 1-0 • 1-0 ½-0 ½-1 8
9 Yates, Frederick ½-0 0-½ 0-0 ½-0 0-1 0-0 0-0 0-1 • 1-1 ½-1 7
10 Lasker, Edward ½-0 ½-0 ½-½ 0-½ 0-1 ½-0 ½-0 ½-1 0-0 • 0-½ 61⁄2
11 Janowski, Dawid M. 0-0 ½-0 0-0 0-0 0-0 0-1 1-0 ½-0 ½-0 1-½ • 5
a poorly played game against Bogoljubow (Black). At the end, according to Hanon W. Russell
in his article “New York 1927,” in the American Chess Journal (number 1, 1992, page 90),
Capablanca received $1,500 (almost $21,000 in 2015) for participating in the 1924 tourna-
ment, plus travel and lodging expenses. This was in addition to his prize for the second place
in the tournament, which at the end was $1,000 (about $14,000), plus $25 ($350) for his
Third Brilliancy Prize for his game against Emanuel Lasker, for a grand total of $2,525 (about
$34,000).
Maybe Horace Ransom Bigelow was wrong when he wrote in the American Chess Bul-
letin (May-June 1924, page 105) that in New York, to paraphrase Julius Caesar, the hyper-
modernists “came, saw and were conquered.” It is true that none of the hypermodern theorists
present in New York (Nimzowitsch did not participate) achieved a prominent place at the
tournament table. But Réti, in addition to beating Capablanca and Alekhine in one of the
two games disputed against each of them, won the First Brilliancy Prize in his second
encounter against Bogoljubow.
When the tournament ended, Capablanca sent for his family in Cuba and waited for
Gloria and little Tuto in the dock when they arrived on May 6 on board the steamer Orizaba.
A photo of the family in Central Park in New York picked up that moment of tranquility,
after a series of family illnesses. When they all returned together to Cuba, Capablanca left
behind some doubt as to his return to active play, at least in tournaments. “I have participated
in the competition,” he said, “because for many years the fans of the city had not watched a
test of such a high level, but in the future I shall dedicate myself solely to exhibitions and
conferences.”
Capablanca received various tributes in Cuba, including one organized by the so-called
“Minority Group,” composed of Cuban political and cultural figures who emerged from a
public protest against the government of President Alfredo Zayas. The most representative
figure from this group was the left-wing leader Rubén Martínez Villena. But it also had many
names which were then illustrious, such as cartoonist Conrado Walter Massaguer. Another
of the habitual participants in the group was his sister Zenaida, also an active member against
the Zayas administration. In these encounters, called “sabbatical lunches,” Capablanca related
several anecdotes of his travels around the world.15
The statements by Capablanca that he would not play competitively anymore proved
to carry no weight. Less than a year later he received an invitation to attend an important
tournament organized by the Bolshevik government in Russia, newly renamed as the Union
of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR) in 1922.16 A letter from Bogoljubow explained to Capa-
blanca in detail the organization of the competition, adding the maximum quantity the
Organizing Committee was willing to pay him for his participation. Apparently the new
chess authorities in the USSR did not have the same international contacts as their prede-
cessors, so they used the good offices and personal relationships of Bogoljubow. The Ukrain-
ian master was enticed to return to Moscow in 1924 from Germany, where he resided. After
that, he won conclusively the Soviet Championships in 1924 and 1925. According to Ilyin-
Zhenevsky in his diary about the Moscow tournament of 1925 (Notes of a Soviet Master,
1986), the competition was “largely a brainchild of Bogoljubow. He spent much effort and
energy to organize it.”
Two things seemed to conspire against Capablanca’s participation. First was the birth
of his daughter Gloria de los Ángeles, “Tita,” June 23, 1925, whom her father would always
call “my little right eye.” Second was the cost of travel to Europe, because apparently,
Bogoljubow’s letter either did not mention this or said that the costs to Moscow were going
to be paid only from Europe. Under that impression, the news agency Associated Press wired
a cable from Havana: “Sept. 19 (AP).—It is unlikely that Raoul [sic] Capablanca, the Cuban
chess master, will take part in the international masters’ tournament at Moscow this year.
Heretofore the Cuban champion has been provided with money to defray his expense by
the Cuban Government. This year, however, the usual funds will not be forthcoming. Where-
fore Capablanca is said to have decided not to make the trip to Russia.”17
Some time after the exchange of letters between Capablanca and Bogoljubow, it seemed
that the Moscow authorities expanded the budget of expenditures and covered, beside Capa-
blanca’s transatlantic trip, Marshall’s, and even the one of the young Mexican master Carlos
Torre, both residents in New York. The New York Times said that the budget of the tourna-
ment rose to $25,000 (more than $350,000 in 2015). In the same period, before the apparent
change of attitude in Moscow, discomfort grew among members of the Union Club of
Havana that Cuba was not able to send its world champion to a very significant event, at a
time when money seemed abundant. From that indignation was born the idea of starting a
fundraiser, which managed to gather in three weeks the formidable figure of $3,105 (almost
$44,000), enough to send him to Moscow. It is noteworthy that several of the most generous
contributors were people who over the years had been described as opposing the trip for
political reasons, such as Gerardo Machado, who had newly been sworn in as president of
Cuba on May 20. The truth is that Machado contributed $250 from his own pocket; his jus-
tice secretary, José María Barraqué, another of those who also supposedly had been opposed
to the trip, gave $10018; Senator Clemente Vázquez Bello, killed years later by groups in
opposition to Machado, $100; and the former President Mario García Menocal, $200. The
largest contributor was Regino Truffin with $300.19
One month after having declared that he could not attend the Moscow tournament
for lack of funds, Capablanca stated that he had decided to accept the invitation after the
tremendous turnaround in his economic circumstances. The New York Times reported in
its edition of November 5 that Capablanca had received $5,00020 from the tournament
organizers to go to Moscow, a figure that exceeded by far the wildest dreams of any chess
player of the time. That amount was to be added to the $3,105 collected by the Union Club
for a grand total of $8,105 (nearly $115,000 in 2015).
But accepting the invitation to participate in Moscow did not mean that Capablanca
had no concerns. Back then, there was an atmosphere of great uncertainty regarding security
in the capital of Russia. A dispatch to the New York Times (April 16, 1924) was headlined
“Bolshevist terror revived in Russia.”21 This concern led him to write a dramatic letter to
young Tuto that looks like a farewell:
Union Club, Havana, 7 October 1925
My dearest son,
You must keep this letter to read it again when you are 21 because things that you do not
know and understand now you will know and understand then. First of all, you must always
respect and love your mother above all else. Try never to tell her lies; always tell her the truth.
Your father, writing these lines, has a reputation throughout the whole world for being a very
honest man—very truthful and honorable. Try to imitate me in all this. Be studious and strong
so that you can defend your mother and your sister with your head as well as with your hands.
Whatever wishes you may have to study a particular thing, remember that in any case you must
become a lawyer before anything else, so that you can defend your own interests and those of
your family. After you have become a lawyer you can, if you prefer something else, concentrate
on whatever you like. Do not forget that the best period of a man’s life is when he is a student. As a
boy this will not seem so to you, but when you have gone through that stage and reached the age of
40 you will see the truth of what I am telling you. On the physical side, there are two things you
must know how to do well—swim and box, so that you can defend yourself at sea as well as on land.
This does not mean that you should often fight, but that you must be prepared to do so if necessary.
Try to be a man of wide culture. There is nothing in the world as entertaining as books. It is
also necessary to be useful to humanity. If you can avoid it, never play cards, smoke or drink
alcohol of any kind. These are bad habits which greatly shorten life and weaken men physically
as well as intellectually and morally.
Be an honest and good man.
Your father embraces you with all his love.
J.R. Capablanca [courtesy of Mercedes Capablanca, who owns the original].
Capablanca sailed from Havana on October 1022 to Key West and got off the train
Havana Special in New York the evening of October 12. In the railway terminal a group of
friends and partners of the Manhattan Chess Club waited for him, despite a train delay of
four hours. A brief note in the New York Times (October 13, 1925) mentioned his plans:
“Capablanca will spend only today in town, as he is scheduled to sail at 1 a.m. tomorrow [to
Europe] in the Mauretania.” That day also Carlos Torre left aboard the ocean liner Lithuania.
Later that week, Marshall was underway aboard the ocean liner Paris. Capablanca arrived
in Southampton, England, on October 19. On the road to Moscow, he offered two simulta-
neous exhibitions in Berlin, on October 26 and 28, and another in Warsaw on October 30.23
In the Polish capital, Capablanca faced 30 of the most advanced players of that city
with a result of 15 wins, 3 losses and 12 draws. Hans Kmoch, who also went to Moscow to
report on the tournament, said that Warsaw master Dawid Przepiórka, who would be mur-
dered by the Nazis in 1940, informed him that Capablanca had recently left the city. “He is
incredibly strong,” said Przepiórka, for whom Capablanca autographed one of his books on
that occasion. Destiny directed that this action saved the life of another Polish player to
whom Przepiórka lent the book years later. A Nazi soldier of an execution squad, who was
enthusiastic about chess, browsed the work that was in possession of the prisoner, and when
he saw the autograph of the famous Cuban, he allowed him to escape.24
In Moscow, the Cuban was received at the railway station Belarus by Valerian Eremeyev,
one of the directors of the tournament, and other sports officials. “The train chugged in,
and in the doorway there appeared the smiling Capablanca, waving his hat. Handsome, ele-
gant, with the polished manners of a diplomat, and very communicative, he produced a
splendid impression,” according to Eremeyev’s memoirs, quoted by Isaak and Vladimir Linder
in their Capablanca book (page 109).
After very modest origins in 1919, in a basement without heating, and a warning from
Alekhine in 1920 during the first Soviet Championship to his organizer, Alexander Ilyin-
Zhenevsky, that he would not play “against hungry opponents,” in moments in which the
participants threatened to declare themselves “on strike” due to the poor food that they were
receiving, chess had achieved in the new Russia a popularity not known before in any place
in the world. This was part of a strategy developed by attorney general and president of the
Russian Chess Club Nicolai Vasilyevich Krylenko, a tireless man of intense fanaticism, totally
dedicated to serve his ideological creed, although at the end, he was crushed by the same
forces that he so fervently helped to unleash. Krylenko was committed to make the elitist
pastime a popular activity of the workers: “We must organize shock brigades of chessplayers
and begin immediately a five-year plan for chess.”25 Without a doubt, he succeeded.
And before the first five-year plan of chess, in which the game became something mas-
sive, with team clashes involving 50 or 100 rivals, plus tournaments with thousands of par-
ticipants, Krylenko came to the conclusion that it was already time to pay attention to the
call made by Ilyin-Zhenevsky in 1923: to hold a major international tournament, with the
participation of the leading world figures. Such an event would be used to check the strength
of the new players in the country, while it would give enormous publicity to the Bolshevik
government. These were broadly the antecedents of the 1925 Moscow tournament, which
received a new impetus when Emanuel Lasker visited the USSR in 1924, and went back to
Germany allegedly with a letter of invitation to Alekhine, who had left Russia in 1921.
During the dinner in honor of the participants, the most memorable moment was,
according to Walter Duranty, correspondent of the New York Times, a new scene of recon-
ciliation between Capablanca and Lasker. Duranty was unaware that a similar one had
occurred in St. Petersburg 1914, at that time as an initiative of the German master’s wife.
According to his note published in the New York Times on November 10,
Capablanca ended his speech of thanks for his welcome in Russia with a graceful reference to
Dr. Lasker’s conquest of the world’s championship from Wilhelm Steinitz in Moscow thirty
years ago, and, saluting the German master, referred to him as “a veteran who for thirty years has
been in the front rank of world chess as one of the best players the game has ever known.”
Deeply touched, Dr. Lasker shook Capablanca’s hand amid thunderous applause.
The first round began the next day, November 10, in the “Fountain Room” in the old
Hotel Metropol. On the initial day, Capablanca’s game was exhibited at three different loca-
tions in the hotel. The Cuban did not begin this tournament with a good rhythm either;
after three rounds he had achieved nothing more than draws against Lasker, Alexander Arse-
nievich Romanovsky and the Austrian Ernst Franz Grünfeld. As a result, from that moment
only one demonstration chessboard was assigned to the world champion to reproduce his
games. In the remaining two they began to reproduce the games of Lasker and Bogoljubow.
The game against Lasker on the first day had its moments of interest: According to Isaac
and Vladimir Linder (Emanuel Lasker: Second World Chess Champion, Russell, 2010), “When
Capablanca (White) obtained a positional advantage, Lasker clearly grew nervous and puffed
his cigar continuously, sometimes covering the entire board with a cloud of smoke. Capa-
blanca, a non-smoker, would frown at these moments, but tried not to show his discom-
fort.…”26
Some details related to the organization of the tournament were displeasing to Capa-
blanca, especially the pace of play of 30 moves in two hours, against which he protested vig-
orously. He later said that he would not participate in any tournament unless the first control
was at 40 moves, with five or six consecutive hours of play, or two sessions of four hours
each. Also, the chairs of the players seemed very low to him. This issue was resolved, at least
in his case, with a high seat lined in gold silk which, as Ilyin-Zhenevsky described, looked
like a throne. The matter of the throng of onlookers, with the consequent excessive heat in
the game room, did not have a definitive solution. Lasker, who because of his age was the
most affected, also commented that the atmosphere was oppressive, and the organizers put
in some extra exhaust fans. Capablanca joked, as he told Levenfish, that he would not be
opposed to going to the tournament playing-room in a swimsuit, alluding both to the heat
and the possibility of diving into the indoor fountains.27 Although numerous chronicles
refer to the way that the attendees kept a religious silence, sometimes the organizers had to
discourage their noisy applause when the most exciting games finished.
Vasily Panov, who wrote a valuable book about the Cuban, never translated into English,
recalled years later: “I watched as each day Capablanca, retiring from the chess table to
wander around among the spectators, returned to his site loaded with dozens of boxes of
chocolates and other gifts from his male and female fans. When Capablanca went out into
the street, the mounted militia was obliged to contain the push of the fans. An unforgettable
picture.”28
After beating Yates in the fourth round, a game in which Capablanca with Black
employed the Alekhine’s Defense, he got nothing but draws against Rubinstein and Abram
Isaakovich Rabinovich in the following days. The score of the Cuban was barely 58 percent.
Then came his unexpected defeat against Ilyin-Zhenevsky, who left a detailed account of
the process of meditation of the champion:
He is indeed very handsome, and his open and attractive features reflect his deep thought. You
can see he is fighting, but at the same time he is calmly and majestically thinking…. Capablanca’s
entire figure seemed to emanate comforting warmth…. Sometimes I too would be lost in
thought. Then Capablanca slowly would rise from his chair and go for a stroll among the tables
of other competitors. He seemed to be resting. But there would be a glint in his eye, a flickering
inner light and he would gaze at the audience with unseeing eyes, the same deep thinking about
the game.29
On November 19, Capablanca gave himself a present for his 37th birthday with an ele-
gant victory against the Ukrainian Bohatirchuk in a Sicilian Defense.
Fyodor P. Bohatirchuk–Capablanca [B85]

6th Round, Moscow, 19 November 1925
1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 c×d4 4. N×d4 Nf6 5. Nc3 d6 6. Be2 e6 7. 0–0 Be7 8. Be3
0–0 9. f4 Bd7 10. Nb3 a6 11. a4 Na5 Better seems 11. ... b6. 12. Qe1 Better is 12. e5! Ne8
13. N×a5 Q×a5 14. Ne4 Qc7 15. a5 Bc6 16. Bb6 Qd7 17. Bf3 Rc8 18. Rf2 with advantage
for White. 12. ... N×b3 13. c×b3 Bc6 14. Bf3 Qc7 15. Rc1 If 15. b4 b5! (Capablanca). 15. ...
Rac8 16. Qg3 Qa5 17. Rfd1 d5 If 17. ... Qb4 18. e5 Ne8 19. Rd3 B×f3 20. Q×f3 d×e5 21. f×e5
Q×b3 White can play 22. Qf1 Qb4 23. Nd5 R×c1 24. N×e7+ Q×e7 25. Q×c1 with com-
pensation for the pawn. 18. e×d5 If 18. e5 Ne4 19. B×e4 d×e4 20. f5 Kh8 21. f×e6 f×e6 and
Black is a little better. 18. ... B×d5 19. B×d5 e×d5 20. Bd4 Bc5
wDrDw4kD 21. Qf2 (see diagram)
DpDwDp0p 21. ... Ng4! 22. Qd2 If 22. Qf3 Qb6 23. Q×d5 Ne3 24. Qe5
pDwDwhwD Nf5 25. Q×f5 B×d4+ 26. Kh1 B×c3 27. b×c3 Q×b3 and Black
1wgpDwDw is better. 22. ... Rfe8 23. Kh1 Qb4 Stronger is 23. ... Ne3
PDwGw)wD 24. B×c5 Q×c5 25. Re1 d4. 24. N×d5? A big mistake. Better is
DPHwDwDw 24. B×c5 R×c5 25. Qd4 Q×d4 26. R×d4 with an even game.
w)wDw!P) 24. ... Q×d4 25. Ne7+ If 25. Q×d4 B×d4 26. g3 Nf2+ 27. Kg2
Dw$RDwIw N×d1 winning. 25. ... Kf8 26. Q×d4 B×d4 27. N×c8 Nf2+
After 21. Qf2 28. Kg1 N×d1+ 29. Kf1 Ne3+ 30. Ke2 White resigned. 0–1.
On November 20, during a free day, Capablanca traveled to the former St. Petersburg,
which since his last visit had changed its name, initially to Petrograd during the First World
War, and then to Leningrad in 1924. Hours after his arrival, the Cuban gave a simultaneous
exhibition against 30 opponents in the premises of the Philharmonic Orchestra. Half of his
adversaries were first-class players. One of his opponents was a slender young man who wore
glasses and a Ukrainian brown shirt that his mother had bought him for such a special occa-
sion. His name was Mikhail Botvinnik, and he was one of four players who defeated the
Cuban that day. According to some accounts, Capablanca pointed Botvinik out to Yacob
Rokhlin and others as his strongest opponent. But Botvinnik himself doubted this version,
because according to him, at the end of the game, “Capablanca shoved together the pieces
[to indicate that White resigned] and walked on. The expression on his face was far from
cheerful.” The exhibition lasted six and a half hours.30
Early the next day, Capablanca quickly took his way back in a private cabin, accompanied
by Rokhlin, and arrived in Moscow just in time to rest a few hours before he went out to play
on the evening of November 21. After that long journey the Cuban played very badly in the
opening against Boris Markovich Verlinsky, whose strength was unknown to Capablanca.
About three months earlier (September 6), Verlinsky had finished in fourth place at the Fourth
Soviet Championship with victories over Bogoljubow, Levenfish and Rabinovich, who occu-
pied the first three places in that order. Verlinsky’s performance at that competition was so
extraordinary that if the tournament had been nothing more than among the top 10 in the
standings, he would have won it with the monumental score of 7½ points out of 9 possible,
without any defeat. The bewilderment of Capablanca in his game against Verlinsky was such
that despite playing with the White pieces, his position after the 13th Black move could be
considered absolutely lost. “Capa’s playing the opening of this game is difficult to understand,”
wrote C.S. Howell in American Chess Bulletin (November-December 1925).
In moments in which his game against Verlinsky had not yet been resumed, it seemed
that his bad streak was going to be extended in his game against Réti (White) the next day,
November 22. But the players agreed to a draw in the 33rd move, when the Czechoslovak
master had a small advantage. That game on the brink of the precipice was followed by
another against Torre (Black), in which Capablanca arrived at an ending that his advantage
of two pawns was insufficient to win. Alekhine mentioned that game in his book of the 1927
New York tournament, to say that the Cuban was not infallible in the endgame. Who was
that Carlos Torre, who at that moment was leading the Moscow tournament in a tie with
Bogoljubow? The world heard of Torre for the first time in 1924, when Alekhine wrote
about him. Lasker also praised his talent. Actually, Torre’s career was one of the most meteoric
in the annals of the game: from 1924 to 1926, although he lived until 1979.
After his defeat at the hands of Verlinsky in the adjourned game, the position of Capa-
blanca in the tournament was very bad, with 5½ points of 11 possible. He was at the brink
of the abyss. The journalist Hans Kmoch faced difficulties in meeting the assignment of an
important international news agency that had in the newspaper La Nación of Buenos Aires
an avid client for the news and opinions of the world champion. At first everything went
well. “[Capablanca] showed great respect for the United Press, giving me all the information
I needed including a number of extensive interviews.” When the world champion lost his
game against Ilyin-Zhenevsky he said to Kmoch: “I played like a lunatic,” and not one word
more. The toughest test for Kmoch was when the news agency requested him to ask Capa-
blanca, on the same day of his defeat against Verlinsky, his impressions of the competition.
When Kmoch mustered up his courage and asked, Capablanca replied: “Tournament’s
impressions better left unsaid” (Kmoch, “My Recollections”).
Kmoch tried to explain this to his readers: “It is hard to blame Capablanca either,
though. For it was, despite all his ingenuity, not given to him to understand how he could
normally lose a game. He had to say something, but did not know what. Claiming ill health,
as is usually done, was beneath his dignity. Nor would he adopt Spielmann’s ultima ratio,
stating his opponent played like a superman.”31 But after this, Kmoch had no difficulties in
pleasing his Argentine customer, since Capablanca scored 8 points in the last 9 games.
The twelfth round witnessed a game in which Capablanca made one of his his typical
pawn sacrifices for positional compensation. His rival, Fyodor Ivanovich Dus-Khotimirsky
(White), was unable to solve his problems and his pieces remained constrained.
Fyodor I. Dus-Khotimirsky–Capablanca [A48]

12th Round, Moscow, 25 November 1925
1. Nf3 Nf6 2. d4 g6 3. e3 Bg7 4. Bd3 0–0 5. 0–0 d6 6. e4 Nbd7 7. h3 c5 8. c3 e5
9. d×e5 d×e5 10. a4 Qc7 11. Na3 c4 An interesting pawn sacrifice. Black has plenty of com-
pensation. 12. N×c4 Nc5 But not 12. ... N×e4 13. B×e4 Q×c4 14. Bd5 Qc7 15. Re1 and
White is better. 13. Qe2 N×d3 14. Q×d3 Rd8 15. Qe2 Be6 16. Na3 Better seems 16. Nc×e5
Nd7 17. Nd3 (if 17. N×d7 Bc4 18. Bf4 Qc8 19. Qc2 B×f1 20. R×f1 Q×d7 with a complicated
game) 17. ... Bc4 18. Qe3 Qd6 19. Nd4 (if 19. Rd1? Nc5 winning) 19. ... Ne5 20. N×e5 B×f1
21. Ng4 Bc4 with an unclear position. 16. ... h6 17. Re1 If 17. Be3 N×e4 18. B×h6 N×c3
19. b×c3 B×h6 20. Q×e5 Q×e5 21. N×e5 Rac8 and Black is better. 17. ... a6 18. Qc2 Bd7
19. Be3 Bc6 20. Nd2 b5 21. a×b5 a×b5 22. f3 Nh5 23. Rad1 Better is 23. Qb3 Qb7 24. Nc2
Bd7 25. Nb4 Be6 26. Nd5 and White is a little better. 23. ... Bf8 24. Nab1 Bd7 25. Nf1 Nf4
26. Ng3 If 26. Rd2 Re8 27. b3 Be6 and Black is a little better. 26. ... b4! Black is already
better. 27. Ne2 g5 28. Nc1 If 28. N×f4 g×f4 29. Bf2 Rdb8 with initiative. 28. ... Rdc8 29. c4
If 29. Qd2 Ba4 30. b3 b×c3 31. N×c3 Q×c3 32. Q×c3 R×c3 33. b×a4 R×a4 with a little
advantage for Black (see diagram)
29. ... b3! 30. N×b3 If 30. Qc3 Be6 31. N×b3 B×c4 32. Nc1 Qe7 and Black is better.
30. ... Ba4 31. N1d2 Better is 31. B×f4 g×f4 32. Rd3 Q×c4 with
rDrDwgkD only a small advantage for Black. 31. ... Bb4 32. g3 Ne6 Of course
Dw1bDpDw not 32. ... N×h3+ 33. Kh2. 33. Qd3 Rd8 Black has a winning
wDwDwDw0 position. 34. Qe2 Rab8 35. Rf1 B×d2 36. N×d2 B×d1
DwDw0w0w 37. Q×d1 R×b2 38. Qc1 Ra2 39. Rf2 Rd3 40. Nf1 Raa3 41. f4
w0PDPhwD Rac3 42. Qe1 e×f4 43. g×f4 N×f4 44. B×f4 g×f4 45. Qe2 f3
DwDwGPDP 46. Qa2 Rc1 47. R×f3 If 47. e5 Q×e5 48. R×f3 Qg5+ 49. Kh2
w)QDwDPD R×f1! 50. R×f1 (if 50. R×d3 Qg1 mate) 50. ... Qg3+ 51. Kh1
DNHR$wIw Q×h3+ 52. Kg1 Rg3+ 53. Kf2 Rf3+ and mate in at most three
After 29. c4 moves. 47. … R×f3 46. Qg2+ Rg3 White resigned. 0–1.
Capablanca continued his march, winning in an impeccable way against Marshall

(Black), but then the Cuban fell into a position requiring a very careful defense against
Levenfish (White). In the end, the game was a draw. After that tense encounter followed a
magnificent execution against Tartakower (Black). Then half a point escaped him in a rook
ending against Spielmann, where he had to do something similar to what had taken place
a year earlier in New York against Tartakower: introduce his king deep into the enemy posi-
tion at the cost of his pawns. Against Nikolai Mikhailovich Zubarev (Black), Capablanca
made a beautiful combination that earned him the Second Brilliancy Prize of the tourna-
ment.
Capablanca–Nicolay M. Zubarev [D21]

17th Round, Moscow, 2 December 1925
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nf3 d×c4 4. e4 c5 5. d5 Better is 5. B×c4. 5. ... e×d5 6. e×d5 Nf6
7. B×c4 Bd6 8. 0–0 0–0 9. Bg5 Bg4 Better is 9. ... a6 10. a4 h6 11. B×f6 Q×f6 12. Nc3 Bf5!
(Ståhlberg and Alles Monasterio). 10. Nc3 Nbd7 11. Ne4 Qc7?! Better is 11. ... Be5 12. h3
B×f3 13. Q×f3 Qb6 14. Rab1 N×e4 15. Q×e4 Qd6 16. Qc2 h6 17. Be3 Nb6 18. b3 Rac8
with an even game. Belavenets–Gergenreder, Moscow 1936. 12. B×f6 N×f6 13. N×f6+
g×f6 14. h3 Bh5 15. Re1 Rfe8 16. Qb3 a6 17. a4 Bg6 18. Bd3 Qd7 19. Nd2 Re7 20. B×g6!
f×g6 Better is 20. ... h×g6 21. Ne4 Kg7 22. Qf3 Be5! 23. N×c5 Qd6 24. Nd3 Rd8 with an
even game. 21. Ne4 Kg7 22. Qc3 Interesting is 22. N×d6 Q×d6 23. R×e7+ Q×e7 24. d6
Qe4 25. Rc1 Rd8 26. Qb6 Rd7 27. Q×c5 Qf4! 28. Rc4 b6 29. R×f4 b×c5 30. Rc4 R×d6
31. R×c5 Rd1+ 32. Kh2 Rd2 33. Kg3 R×b2 34. Rc7+ Kh6 35. Rc6 with a better endgame.
22. ... Be5 23. Q×c5 B×b2 Better is 23. ... Rae8 24. Nc3 Bd6 25. R×e7+ Q×e7 26. Qc4
Qe1+ 27. Qf1 Qd2 28. Qc1 Qd4 29. Qd1 Qb4 and White is only a little better. 24. Ng5
Rae8 25. Ne6+ Kf7 26. Rab1 Be5 27. Qc4 Rc8 28. Qb3 Bb8 If 28. ... Rc3 29. Qa2 b5
30. a×b5 a×b5 31. Red1 Bd6 32. Qd2 Rc8 33. Qd4 b4 34. Rd3 Qa7 (if 34. ... Rc2 35. Rf3
winning) 35. Qh4 with advantage. 29. g3 Qd6 30. Nf4 Rce8 If 30. ... R×e1+ 31. R×e1 Re8
32. Re6 R×e6 33. d×e6+ Kf8 34. Q×b7 Bc7 35. Nd5 winning (Ståhlberg and Alles Monasterio).
31. Re6 Qd7 32. R×e7+ K×e7 33. Q×b7 B×f4 (see diagram)
34. Re1+! If 34. g×f4 Q×b7 35. R×b7+ Kd6 and the wDwDrDwD
endgame is not clear. 34. ... Be5 If 34. ... Kd6 35. Qb6+ K×d5 DQDqiwDp
36. Rd1+ winning. If 34. ... Kd8 35. Qa8+ Kc7 36. R×e8 win- pDwDw0pD
ning. 35. d6+! Ke6 If 35. ... Kd8 36. Qb6+ Kc8 37. Rc1+. DwDPDwDw
36. Qb3+ Kf5 If 36. ... K×d6 37. Rd1+ Ke7 38. R×d7+ K×d7 PDwDwgwD
39. Qb7+ Bc7 40. Q×a6 winning. 37. Qd3+ Kg5 If 37. ... Ke6 DwDwDw)P
38. Qc4+ K×d6 39. Rd1+ Ke7 40. R×d7+ K×d7 41. Q×a6 win- wDwDw)wD
ning. 38. Qe3+ Kf5 If 38. ... Kh5 39. g4+ Kh4 40. Qh6 mate. DRDwDwIw
39. Qe4+ Ke6 If 39. ... Kg5 40. Qh4+ Kf5 41. Qg4 mate. After 33. … B×f4
40. Qc4+ K×d6 41. Rd1+ Ke7 42. R×d7+ K×d7 43. Q×a6
There is something curious in all this: when he lost his game against Ilyin-Zhenevsky,
Capablanca wrote in Shakhmatny Listok: “It is impossible for me to play in violation of prin-
ciples that I am profoundly convinced are correct. I do not believe in attacks of this kind,
which do not lend themselves to exact calculations, and which give the opponent too many
chances.” But in reality there was a predominance of the tactical element in all the games of
Capablanca in the second part of the Moscow tournament, although this did not mean
under any circumstances that his rivals had as many opportunities as Ilyin-Zhenevsky.
On the following day, Capablanca defeated in 28 moves Friedrich Sämisch (White),
who, when he believed he could save himself, found his illusion was just a dream.
Friedrich Sämisch–Capablanca [D48]

1. Nf3 Nf6 2. d4 e6 3. c4 d5 4. Nc3 c6 5. e3 Nbd7 6. Bd3 a6 7. 0–0 d×c4 8. B×c4
b5 9. Bd3 c5 10. Qe2 Bb7 11. Rd1 Qc7 12. e4 c×d4 13. N×d4 Bc5 14. Nb3 Better is
14. Be3 Qb6 15. Bc2 0–0 16. a3 with an even position. Renaze–Boudre, Cannes 1997. 14. ...
Bd6 15. h3 b4 16. Nb1 If 16. Na4? Bc6 winning. 16. ... Ne5 17. Bf4 0–0 (see diagram)
18. B×e5 Better seems 18. a3 a5 19. Rc1 Qe7 20. B×e5 B×e5
rDwDw4kD 21. a×b4 a×b4 22. R×a8 R×a8 and Black is only a little better.
Db1wDp0p 18. ... B×e5 19. N1d2? White is giving a pawn in search of the
pDwgphwD development of his pieces. But there is no compensation. 19. ...
DwDwhwDw B×b2 20. Rab1 Bc3 21. Nc4 a5 22. e5 Nd7 23. B×h7+ If
w0wDPGwD 23. Nb×a5 R×a5 24. N×a5 Q×a5 25. B×h7+ K×h7 26. R×d7
DNDBDwDP Bd5 winning; if 23. f4 a4 24. Nc1 Bd5 25. Ne3 Qc5 with a win-
P)wDQ)PD ning position. 23. ... K×h7 24. Qd3+ Kg8 25. Q×d7 Q×c4
$NDRDwIw 26. Q×b7 a4 27. Nd2 If 27. Nc1 Rfd8 28. Qf3 B×e5 winning.
After 17. Bf4 27. ... Q×a2 28. Nf3 Qe2 White resigned. 0–1.
In the penultimate round it was the turn of the leader of the tournament, Bogoljubow
(Black). The bishop sacrifice made by the Cuban is not a product of real calculation, nor
was it completely a speculation.
Capablanca–Efim D. Bogoljubow [D24]

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nf3 d×c4 4. e4 c5 4. ... b5. 5. B×c4 c×d4 6. N×d4 Nf6 7. Nc3
Bc5 8. Be3 Nbd7 Better is 8. ... 0–0 9. e5 Nfd7 10. f4 Qb6 11. Qd2 Nc6 12. Na4 Bb4
13. N×b6 B×d2+ 14. B×d2 N×b6 15. N×c6 N×c4 although White is a little bit ahead (see
diagram)
9. B×e6! f×e6 10. N×e6 Qa5 If 10. ... Qb6 11. N×c5 N×c5
rDb1kDw4 12. 0–0 Qc6 13. Rc1 Nc×e4 14. N×e4 Q×e4 15. Re1 0–0 (if
0pDnDp0p 15. ... Kf7 16. Rc7+ Kg6 17. Bd4 Qf4 18. Ree7 Rg8 19. Be3 Qb4
wDwDphwD 20. a3 Q×b2 21. Rc5 Bf5 22. R×f5 K×f5 23. Qf3+ Kg6 24. Qg3+
DwgwDwDw and mate in two moves) 16. Bc5 Qd5 17. B×f8 K×f8 18. Q×d5
wDBHPDwD N×d5 19. Rcd1 Nc7 (if 19. ... Nb6 20. Rd8+ Kf7 21. Ree8
DwHwGwDw g6 22. f4 a5 23. Kf2 a4 24. Rh8 with advantage to White)
P)wDw)P) 20. Rd8+ Kf7 21. Rc1 Ke7 22. Rh8 Ne8 23. R×h7 Be6 and White
$wDQIwDR
is better. 11. 0–0 B×e3 12. f×e3 Kf7 13. Qb3 Kg6 14. Rf5! Qb6
After 8. … Nbd7 15. Nf4+ Kh6 16. g4 Better is 16. Qf7 g6 17. Ne6 Q×e3+ 18. Kh1
Rg8 (if 18. ... g×f5 19. Qg7+ Kh5 20. Rf1 Rg8 21. R×f5+ Kh4
22. g3+ Kh3 23. Nf4+ Q×f4 24. R×f4 Ng4 25. Q×h7+ Nh6 26. Rh4 mate) 19. Nd5 Q×e4
20. R×f6 N×f6 21. N×f6 Q×e6 22. N×g8+ Kg5 23. h4+ K×h4 24. Qf4+ Kh5 25. Nf6+
winning. 16. ... g5! 17. Q×b6 Better is 17. Qf7! Rf8 18. Qe7 Q×e3+ 19. Kh1 g×f4 20. Rg1
Qf3+ 21. Rg2 Qf1+ 22. Rg1 Qf3+ and draw. 17. ... a×b6 18. Rd1 Rg8? Better is 18. ... g×f4
19. g5+ Kg6 20. Rd6 (if 20. g×f6 f×e3 21. f7 Kg7 22. Kh1 Nf8 and Black is winning) 20. ...
f×e3 21. g×f6 Kf7 22. e5 Re8 and Black is winning. 19. Nfd5 N×g4 Better is 19. ... N×d5
20. N×d5 (if 20. Rd×d5 Rg6) 20. ... Nc5 21. Rf7 (if 21. Ne7 Re8 22. N×c8 Re×c8 23. Rd6+
Kg7 24. R×g5+ Kh8 25. R×b6 R×a2 and Black is winning) 21. ... B×g4 and Black is winning.
20. Ne7! Rg7 21. Rd6+ Kh5 22. Rf3 Ngf6 23. Rh3+ Kg4 24. Rg3+ Kh5 25. Nf5 Rg6
26. Ne7 Better is 26. Rh3+ Kg4 27. Kg2 Nc5 28. Ng3 Ne6 29. e5 Ne8 30. Rd4+ N×d4
31. Rh5 Ne6 32. h3 mate. 26. ... g4? Better is 26. ... Nc5! 27. Rf3 Nc×e4 28. N×g6 N×d6
29. R×f6 Nf5 30. Ne5 Ra5 31. Nc4 Rc5 32. N×b6 N×e3 with an even position. 27. N×g6
K×g6? Better is 27. ... h×g6 28. e5 Ne8 29. Re6 Ng7 30. Re7 Nf5 31. Re8 N×g3 32. e6 Ne2+
33. N×e2 Nf6 34. Rf8 Kg5 35. e7 Ra5 36. R×f6 Re5 37. Rf7 Bd7 38. Kf2 Be8 39. Rh7 Kf6
40. Nc3 and White is only a little better. 28. R×g4+ Kf7 29. Rf4 Kg7 30. e5 Ne8 31. Re6
Nc7 32. Re7+ Black resigned. 1–0. If 32. ... Kg6 33. e6 Nc5 34. R×c7 N×e6 35. Rg4+ Kf5
36. Rcc4 b5 37. Rb4 winning. This was the most exciting game of the tournament in Moscow.
1–0.
In the 20th round of the tournament, Capablanca acquired an evident superiority in

the center and the kingside, thanks to the advance of his pawns and the exchange of the
bishop that defended the white squares. His rival, Solomon Borisovich Gothilf, believed he
suddenly had found a plan on the queenside that would seemingly balance the actions and
would give his pieces the long-awaited freedom of action. But an accurate tactical blow by
the Cuban ended the game in just 24 moves.
Solomon S. Gothilf–Capablanca [E16]

1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nf3 b6 4. g3 Bb7 5. Bg2 c5 6. d×c5 6. d5 6. ... B×c5 7. Nc3
Nowadays is preferred 7. 0–0 Be7 8. Nc3 0–0 9. Bf4. 7. ... Ne4 8. N×e4 B×e4 9. 0–0 Nc6
10. Nd2 B×g2 11. K×g2 d5 12. Qa4 Rc8 13. Nb3 0–0 14. Rd1
Better is 14. c×d5 Q×d5+ 15. e4 Qd3 16. N×c5 b×c5 17. Bf4 wDw4w4kD
Nb4 18. f3 Qd4 19. Rf2 with an even game. 14. ... d4! Now Black DqDwDw0w
is better. 15. N×c5 b×c5 16. a3 Qb6 17. Bd2 a5 18. Qc2 e5 Inter- wDnDwDw0
esting is 18. ... Ne5 19. Kg1 d3! and if 20. e×d3 Nf3+ 21. Kf1 0w0w0pDw
Nd4 22. Qb1 Qb7 winning. 19. Rab1 f5 20. h3 h6 21. b3 Rb8 w)P0wDwD
22. Rb2 Qb7 23. Kh2 Rbd8 24. b4 Better is 24. Qc1 e4, but )wDwDw)P
Black has a winning position (see diagram) w$QGP)wI
24. ... d3! White resigned. If 25. e×d3 Nd4 26. b×c5 Qf3 DwDRDwDw
winning. 0–1 After 24. b4
When the tournament in Moscow began, forecasts were that Capablanca, Lasker and
Bogoljubow would occupy the top three places. In fact, this happened in reverse order.
Bogoljubow won the tournament with 15½ points, one more than Lasker and two over the
world champion. Like Capablanca, Bogoljubow lost two games. But his 9½ points against
the last 10 in the standings was devastating. On the other hand, against those same com-
petitors Lasker made 7½ points and Capablanca 7. Capablanca’s presence in Moscow was
immortalized in a gem of a short movie: Chess Fever, by Vsevolod Illarionovich Pudovkin.
The Cuban master starred as himself in a romantic comedy where a chess craze that had
Moscow in its grip drove the heroine to the brink of suicide; because of her husband’s
“fevered” passion for the game he forgot his own wedding. It was in that short—based on a
script by Nikolai Shpikovsky—that Capablanca pronounced a statement not too removed
from his real life: “In the company of beautiful women, I too hate chess.”
It was also during his Moscow stay that Capablanca proposed modifying chess through
the addition of pieces and squares. Like the time in 1922 when he proposed new rules for
the world championship, he chose a momentous occasion so his words reached the biggest
Moscow 1925
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21
1 Bogoljubow, Efim • ½ 0 ½ 1 1 0 ½ 1 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 151⁄2
2 Lasker, Emanuel ½ • ½ 1 ½ 0 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 0 ½ 1 ½ ½ 1 1 14
3 Capablanca, José R. 1 ½ • 1 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 1 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 1 131⁄2
4 Marshall, Frank J. ½ 0 0 • ½ 0 1 1 ½ 0 1 1 1 1 1 1 ½ 0 ½ 1 1 121⁄2
5 Tartakower, Savielly 0 ½ 0 ½ • ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 12 112.25
6 Torre R., Carlos 0 1 ½ 1 ½ • ½ 0 ½ ½ 0 1 ½ ½ 1 ½ 0 1 1 1 1 12 111.25
7 Réti, Richard 1 ½ ½ 0 0 ½ • 1 0 1 1 ½ 0 ½ ½ 1 1 ½ 1 ½ ½ 111⁄2 111.75
8 Romanovsky, Piotr ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ 1 0 • 1 0 ½ 1 0 0 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 111⁄2 102.25
9 Grünfeld, Ernst 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 0 • 1 ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ 1 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 101⁄2 100.25
10 Ilyin-Zhenevsky, A. 0 0 1 1 ½ ½ 0 1 0 • ½ 0 1 ½ 0 ½ 1 ½ ½ 1 1 101⁄2 97.00
11 Bohatirchuk, F. ½ 0 0 0 ½ 1 0 ½ ½ ½ • ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 10
12 Verlinsky, Boris 0 0 1 0 0 0 ½ 0 ½ 1 ½ • 1 1 1 ½ 0 1 ½ 1 0 91⁄2 88.00
13 Spielmann, Rudolf 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ 1 1 ½ 0 ½ 0 • 1 1 ½ ½ 1 ½ 0 1 91⁄2 86.50
14 Rubinstein, Akiva ½ 0 ½ 0 0 ½ ½ 1 1 ½ 0 0 0 • 1 0 0 1 1 1 1 91⁄2 86.00
15 Levenfish, Grigory 0 1 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ 1 ½ 0 0 0 • 1 1 ½ ½ 1 ½ 9
16 Rabinovich, Ilya 0 ½ ½ 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ 1 0 • 1 ½ 1 1 1 81⁄2
17 Yates, Frederick 0 0 0 ½ 0 1 0 0 0 0 ½ 1 ½ 1 0 0 • 1 ½ 0 1 7
18 Sämisch, F. 0 ½ 0 1 ½ 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 0 0 ½ ½ 0 • 0 1 0 61⁄2 67.25
19 Gothilf, S. 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ 0 0 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ 1 • 0 ½ 61⁄2 61.00
20 Dus-Khotimirsky, F. 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 1 0 0 0 1 0 1 • 1 6
21 Zubarev, N. 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 0 1 0 0 ½ 0 0 1 ½ 0 • 41⁄2
possible audience. Walter Duranty, a correspondent for the New York Times (November 9,
1925, page 16), wrote immediately about the daring changes proposed by the Cuban master,
wondering whether “Capablanca was a revolutionary.” To better defend the rationality of
his ideas in the Russian language, the Cuban master enlisted the help of Tartakower, whose
mother tongue was Russian. It was at that time and place that Capablanca stated: “We should
discard mechanical rules, abandon the scientist theories and strive for a new battle of ideas.”32
It was a mystery how such statements could have been made by the man known as the
Chess Machine, of whom Tartakower himself had said that he would like to see Capablanca
make a mistake just to verify his humanity. Did that mean a complete reversal of all his
values? Certainly not; for him, “scientific” theories were nothing more than professional or
amateur discussions of chess openings, or simple magazine controversies on the theme. But
Capablanca seemed unaware that the way he faced chess from the moment he made his first
move in a game was not about battle or beauty, but rationalism—albeit with some artistic
undertones. For more than a few, such rationality was the equivalent of a “scientific move-
ment” in chess. But such an explanation was against the grain of the Cuban master’s feelings.
Despite the fact that the history of chess has called the great attacking artists of the game
“Romantics,” Capablanca was probably the only really romantic, idealistic player, since he
never carried in his travels a suitcase full of books, sometimes not even a chess set, and he
was in principle opposed to adjournments. In fact, he gave an impression at several stages of
his career of despising the study of openings in its entirety.33
This did not mean that, in the field of ideas, Capablanca was lagging behind his time.
He was seen innovating opening variants that for many years were played at the highest
levels. He efficaciously used the Double Fianchetto system without moving forward the cen-
ter pawns; he developed, on the fly, variants for the Queen’s Gambit and the Nimzo-Indian
Defense that have since endured; he developed original lines for the Ruy López, such as the
Siesta Defense. But he could not fathom the need for a tortured search for new opening
variations in the practice of chess. In his opinion, such was a memory exercise, not a battle
of the talents. In his drive to eliminate extra sessions, he proposed increasing to six hours
the regular play sessions, even when many warned that it would turn against him as he grew
older. For him, all the wit of the chess player had to be focused on the chessboard at the time
of the game; devoting time to chess before or after a game was simply beneath him. But
while in Moscow, however, Capablanca did not make clear that his proposal to add pieces
and squares to the game was not intended to happen immediately. It was not until his return
to New York that he realized that he had been misinterpreted. In the December 23 edition
of the New York Times, he elucidated that, according to his opinion, such changes were not
necessary at the time, but instead much later. “This might become necessary in 50 years [italics
added] if the intensive study to which the game is subjected by modern experts is kept up.”
In the meantime, when he left Moscow after his game against Gothilf, critics immedi-
ately started to comment about the champion’s weak performance and his second consecutive
bad outcome in a tournament. Lasker declared that the Cuban master’s game was on the
decline, and Capablanca later agreed. His proposals about changing the game of chess itself
were also the target of more criticism than praise. Lasker, for instance, said that those were
“cheap” changes, and based on a misinterpretation of his own ideas. In Cuba, the writer José
Lezama Lima later called Capablanca’s proposals “Baroque,” because this art trend intrinsi-
cally carries the intention of exhausting its own resources. Without meaning to, Capablanca
had opened a Pandora’s box.
Capablanca left Moscow a day before the final round, because that was his free day. His
purpose in doing so was not to repeat his late arrival in Havana of 1922, when he could not
be with his family at Christmas. Before leaving the island for Moscow, Capablanca assured
both Gloria in private, and, in public, Diario de la Marina’s Guillermo Pi (October 10, 1925,
page 17), that he would be back “around the third week of December. I want to have Christ-
mas pork with my family, with tender lettuce and radishes from my own garden.” Once
more, these plans were frustrated by circumstances beyond his control—the first one being
that the Moscow tournament was postponed to November 10 from the 5th, something he
only learned upon arriving in the Soviet capital on November 2.
Capablanca arrived back in New York on December 21 on board the ship Leviathan,
from Southampton, England, after a brief sojourn in London—where on December 13 he
had offered a simultaneous exhibition against 46 adversaries, with an outcome of 34 victories,
4 defeats, and 8 draws. On this occasion, the members of the House of Commons regaled
him with a gala dinner. Capablanca, however, ran into trouble with customs in the United
States, where he was retained several hours on the ship due to irregularities with his travel
papers. In the passenger logbook the following annotation appears: “Visa requirements
waived.” On that trip Capablanca identified himself as a “landowner” residing at the Cecil
Hotel in London, because at the time he was not a member of the Cuban diplomatic service,
as it had been inaccurately said.34
Additional evidence that Capablanca was away from diplomatic service from 1923 to
the beginning of 1927 is that during his travels at that time he identified his profession in
several different ways. Upon departing for Moscow (via New York) from Havana, and arriving
first at Key West on October 10, 1927, he listed himself as “chess champion.” The documen-
tation summary of his diplomatic trajectory published in Cuba in 2002 does not seem to have
included all the information from his records. Conflicts between the diverse political powers
on the island could have influenced appointments, or their cancellation. A possible example
of such conflicts took place on April 25, 1922, when the secretary of state was instructed by
the presidential office of Alfredo Zayas to file away the appointment of Capablanca as “Com-
mercial Attaché in America” because the Senate had opposed it, saying that Capablanca did
not meet the requirements stipulated by a foreign service law approved in July of 1921. This
happened when Capablanca had just won the world chess championship, and it was to be
expected that everything in the world would be within his reach. Proof of the struggle is that
the Cuban Congress had approved at the time a bill for bestowing upon him a lifetime pen-
sion of 5,000 ($70,000 in 2015) pesos a year, which Zayas vetoed. Zayas, however, later
received a similar pension to write a history of Cuba. Apparently, Capablanca was caught
in the maelstrom of the old struggle between the executive and legislative powers in Cuba,
even between the divided Congress, the House and the Senate that usually fight each other.35
His landing setback in New York was followed by another at Penn Station, because in
the turmoil of his tardy arrival, overburdened by traveling trunks, Capablanca lost his wallet,
with his IDs plus “a substantial amount of money,” according to the press (New York Times,
December 22, 1925, page 17). The Goddess Caissa, who had neglected her favorite child,
was forced to send straightaway to his aid an angel in disguise, station police Lt. John F. Rothlen,
who returned all the lost items to their rightful owner. Despite this miracle, Capablanca missed
his train to the Florida Keys. He was unable to start his return journey to Havana via Key
West till the following day, December 23, already late for Nochebuena (Christmas Eve), but
at least he could be there for Christmas Day … if he did not encounter a new obstacle.
Early Friday, December 25, Havana newspapers published on their front pages the news
of the “Terrible crash of the Havana Special.” The alarming reports stressed that at a South Car-
olina location known as Moncks Corner, the West Indian Limited and Havana Special had
crashed head-on. The first reports mentioned an indeterminate number of injured persons and
an equally indeterminate figure for the death of drivers and stokers of both trains. For Gloria
and other members of the Capablanca family, it was the worst Christmas news possible, after
the uncertainty already caused by learning on the afternoon of the 24th that the Key West
shuttle had canceled its trip because of a “train disaster” of huge proportions. It was not known
until hours later that the crash had involved the Havana Special headed for New York, but the
incident paralyzed for many hours all service on the whole rail corridor of the eastern United
States. Capablanca did not arrive in Havana until the wee hours of December 26, on board the
ferry Governor Cobb. Once more, he missed his Nochebuena engagement and Christmas.36
A summary of the years 1924 and 1925 shows that they were very fruitful for chess, which
seemed to have recovered from its crisis during the First World War. From 1924, an increase was
seen in the number of international tournaments, and the huge presence of the public attested
at the same time to a growing interest. At Moscow 1925, there were hundreds of fans standing
outside the game hall who could not fit in, and hence could not see the games, while in New
York 1924, the spectators became so numerous that the New York Times published an editorial
under the title “Chess Takes Its Place Among the Popular Indoor Sports.” According to it, even
second-hand chess books had become hard to find. When interviewed by the newspaper, Her-
mann Helms explained: “While there has been a growing interest in chess in America for
the last three decades, the greatest impetus of all was felt in 1921, the year of the Capablanca–
Lasker championship match at Havana, and the following by the American tour of Samuel
Rzeschewski.”37 At the start of the New York tournament of 1924, the enthusiasm it triggered
was reflected in a New York Times headline: “Hundreds of spectators flock to watch Capablanca,
Lasker, Réti, Marshall, Bogoljubow and other masters competing at the Alamac Hotel.”
And regarding the Moscow tournament, Capablanca, back in Havana, described mul-
titudes struggling to buy tickets for the tournament in the Soviet capital. His indirect evalu-
ation of life in Russia under the Bolshevik power was very positive, which is why some started
to question whether “Capablanca was a Red,” or at least naïve regarding politics, since at the
time the expression “fellow traveler” had not yet been coined. His views about the support
given to chess by the Soviet regime contrasted with other news dispatches about the new Rus-
sia, which were gloomy and filled with atrocities.38 He said to Diario de la Marina’s Lorenzo
Frau Marsal ( January 19, 1926, page 17) that the passion for chess in Russia was gigantic. “It
is taught to children in school, and also taught in workers’ clubs and factories.” This time, at
least, he and Lasker were in complete agreement about the support that the USSR government
gave to the game. However, when someone asked about any subject outside of chess, his
responses were always carefully guarded. When, upon returning to New York, he was ques-
tioned about Alekhine’s absence from the tournament, Capablanca gave as a response “political
reasons,” without going into further detail. The Cuban master included Vidmar among the
players who did not attend also for political reasons. He omitted any mention of Nimzowitsch,
whose strong anti–Bolshevik opinions were well known, since he had described his experi-
ences in Bolshevik-controlled Riga, in talks that were published in Denmark in 1923. 39
Finally in Havana after such a bumpy ride from New York and the upheavals of 1924
and 1925, the world chess champion decided to reduce his schedule of play, already not as
vigorous as some would have liked.
12. More Challenges, New Triumphs
Capablanca decided to make 1926 into a sabbatical, which is probably why he refused to
attend some of the main European tournaments of that year. When the possibility of a match
against either Lasker or Bogoljubow was brought up in Moscow, the Cuban master mentioned
that he would agree as long as his financial conditions were met and that the match took place
the following year, in 1927. In the end, there was no firm offer of the sort, because apparently
Bogoljubow’s defeat at his hands dampened the enthusiasm of his Moscow hosts. The New
York Times ( January 9, 1926) quoted Lasker as saying that Capablanca had refused to defend
his title against Bogoljubow, a statement that Lasker himself corrected afterwards in the Jan-
uary 20, 1926, edition of the Times. In any case, it became evident that after the end of the
Moscow tournament, Bogoljubow had fallen out of favor with the Soviet sports authorities.
The New York Times (December 27, 1926, page 13) explained it this way:
The winner of the Moscow Tourney has been as eager as any to meet Capablanca in a champi-
onship match. In fact, backing had been virtually pledged to him by the Russians at the time he
won the Moscow competition, although the ardor of the Soviets cooled somewhat when Capa-
blanca defeated their champion in the final [sic] game of the tourney. Since then, Bogoljubow is
reported to have incurred the displeasure of the Russian chess authorities because he competed
in a tourney not approved by the Soviets, and his backing by that country now seems to be
extremely remote.
This was accurate. Since November, a resolution signed by Krylenko had stripped
Bogoljubow of his title of chess champion of the USSR and had expelled him from the chess
association of the country, both for not following the discipline rules of the organization
and for his comments that his condition as a Soviet citizen was hurtful for him at a personal
level, because he was denied invitations such as the tournament at Merano, Italy. Although
Capablanca was tight-lipped about the reasons why Alekhine did not participate in the Mos-
cow tournament, Krylenko’s denunciation of Bogoljubow was not moderated in any way:
“Citizen Bogoljubow, following the footsteps of Alekhine, being neither the first nor the
last renegade in this province, has placed himself outside the ranks of the chess organizations
of the U.S.S.R., and the Chess Section has made the decision: (1) To strip citizen J.D.
Bogoljubow of his title of chess champion of the U.S.S.R; (2) To expel citizen Bogoljubow
from the ranks of the chess organization of the U.S.S.R., and (3) To give this decision the
widest publicity.” On December 12 of the same year, Bogoljubow surrendered his passport
at the Soviet Consulate in Berlin, and thus made publicly known that he was a citizen of
that nation no more.1
The high point in the life of the Cuban master in 1926 was neither the Lake Hopat-
300
cong Tournament, nor a short exhibition tour he went on from early May to late June,2 but
instead the challenges he received from Nimzowitsch and Alekhine. Nimzowitsch, then per-
manently based in Copenhagen, Denmark, announced his challenge to the press after win-
ning the strong, albeit small, Dresden tournament in Germany, which took place April 4–14.
There, Nimzowitsch overcame Alekhine by a point and a half. Alekhine also finished second
in Semmering, Austria, behind Spielmann, although ahead of Vidmar, Nimzowitsch, and
Tartakower, among others. Nimzowitsch, Alekhine and Bogoljubow considered themselves
the best suited to face off in the world tournament, but it was difficult for any of them to
secure in Europe the financial backing that they needed. Alekhine made fun of Nimzowitsch’s
challenge and called it “platonic,” but perhaps he feared that the former could have a card
up his sleeve and would trump him.
Nimzowitsch’s challenge, published in 1926, issue number 13, of the magazine Deutsche
Schachblatter, said:
To the World Champion Capablanca in Cuba
Most respected Mr. Champion of the World:
I permit myself hereby to respectfully inquire, if you would be willing to play a match with
me. Please communicate to me your conditions. Awaiting your decision respectfully,
A. Nimzowitsch.
As a matter of fact, Nimzowitsch was a fantastic lecturer who dotted his conferences
and simultaneous chess games with games of checkers and simultaneous letter dictation,
which delighted the audience. If his chess strategies were occasionally criticized as needlessly
convoluted, his lectures were readily understood and enchanting. He enjoyed an enormous
popularity in Denmark, so it could not be discounted that he would find the financial backing
necessary for facing off against Capablanca. Eventually, history proved that, of the three of
them, Alekhine was the only one who moved energetically enough to break the vicious circle
they all were trapped in, and the only one to understand that the financing for such a match
could only be turned into reality on the west side of the Atlantic. On November 28, 1925,
the same day Capablanca faced Levenfish at the Moscow tournament, Alekhine signed an
exhibition contract with the Argentine Chess Club, a first step in his struggle for getting
that institution to back up his ambitions for a world championship.
Meanwhile, Capablanca departed May 5 on board the Abangarez for New Orleans,
arriving two days later. On May 6, the Cuban master started a short exhibition tour through
the Midwest U.S., with performances in Chicago, May 6; and Cleveland, May 22–23.3 He
made his habitual stop in Philadelphia and continued from there to New York, where he
was joined by his family, who had arrived June 8 on the steamship Orizaba.4 During his last
major event of 1926, the Lake Hopatcong tournament, Capablanca seemed more interested
in hitting tennis balls than paying attention to his results, which on the other hand were
magnificent. In a competition attended by Marshall, Maróczy, Edward Lasker, and Kupchik,
the Cuban master achieved 3½ points of 4 during the first cycle. This allowed him to devote
more time to his favorite outdoor sport. According to Helms, who wrote a book about the
Lake Hopatcong tournament, the idea of these holidays in the pure air of the mountains was
Capablanca’s as much as Lederer’s, with the close cooperation of Harry Latz, who managed
the Alamac Resort in the Poconos Mountains, New Jersey, not too far from New York. Capa-
blanca and his family went there to enjoy Latz’s hospitality, while he joined the participants.
Among the ones who received invitations was the Mexican star Carlos Torre, who did not
attend. Despite the modest roster, the competition was called “Pan American Chess Tour-
nament of the Alamac-in-the-Mountains Hotel.”
However, at the Lake Hopatcong tournament there was more struggle and more inter-
esting games than its brevity might suggest. As was mentioned before, the competition made
history in the sense that the game time proposed by Capablanca, 40 moves in two and a half
hours, was used in an international tournament for the first time (not counting the Italian
championship), according to Lederer. Capablanca won the First Brilliancy Prize for his sec-
ond-cycle game against Edward Lasker, with a pawn sacrifice based on long-term positional
compensations. In the next-to-last round, to get a half point, the Cuban master had to neu-
tralize a shrewd strategy from Marshall (White), who used a Danish Gambit.
Frank J. Marshall–Capablanca [C44]

9th Round, Lake Hopatcong, 17 July 1926
1. e4 e5 2. d4 e×d4 3. c3 d5 4. e×d5 Q×d5 5. c×d4 Nc6 6. Nf3 Bb4+ 7. Nc3 Bg4
8. Be2 B×f3 9. B×f3 Qc4 10. Be3 If 10. B×c6+ b×c6 (or 10. ... Q×c6 11. 0–0 Ne7 12. Qb3
a5 13. Bf4 with an even game) 11. Qe2+ Q×e2+ 12. K×e2 0–0–0 13. Be3 Ne7 14. Rhd1
Rhe8 15. a3 Ba5 16. Kf3 Bb6 17. Na4 Nf5 with an even game. Miles–Nunn, Islington
1970. 10. ... B×c3+ 11. b×c3 Q×c3+ 12. Kf1 Qc4+ 13. Kg1 Nge7 14. Rc1 Q×a2 15. Ra1
If 15. d5? Ne5 16. Be4 f5 17. Rc2 (if 17. d6 c×d6 18. B×b7 Rb8
rDwDkDw4 19. Q×d6 R×b7 20. Q×e5 0–0 and Black is better) 17. ... Qb3
0p0whp0p 18. d6 Rd8 19. Qh5+ g6 and Black is winning. Herzog–Flear,
wDnDwDwD Graz 1984. 15. ... Qc4 16. Rc1 Qa2 17. Ra1 Qc4 18. Rc1 Draw
DwDwDwDw (see diagram)
wDq)wDwD Black could try 18. ... Qb4 19. Rb1 Qd6 20. R×b7 0–0 21. g3
DwDwGBDw Rab8 22. Bf4 Qg6 23. R×b8 R×b8 24. Kg2 Nf5 25. B×c7 Rc8
wDwDw)P) 26. Re1 Nh4+ 27. Kg1 N×f3+ 28. Q×f3 N×d4 29. Qe3 Qe6
Dw$QDwIR with a better position. But with the draw Capablanca secured
After 18. Rc1 the first prize in the tournament. ½–½
A month after the end of the event, while he was still enjoying Latz’s hospitality at Lake
Hopatcong, Capablanca received the news of Alekhine’s challenge, which he responded to
in comments published by the New York Times on August 27. Barely a month earlier, the
newspapers had made reference to the pending steps to celebrate the world tournament, but
Alekhine’s name was not among the ones mentioned at the time: “Independent negotiations
also are said to be pending between Capablanca and Bogoljubow and Capablanca and Niem-
zowitsch [sic],5 but these are being held in abeyance to await the outcome of the present
Russian plans.” Since all this was information about challenges repeated through the last
half-decade, “Capablanca said that while for the last five years several of the masters have
been reported as willing to play for the title, the truth is that not one of them has been able
to obtain sufficient support from the chess public to warrant such a match,” as was published
by the New York Times on July 20, 1926.
The “Russian plans” mentioned by the New York newspaper involved a possible super sex-
tuple round-robin that would have taken place in Moscow in the spring of 1927, with the par-
ticipation of Capablanca, Emanuel Lasker, Bogoljubow, and even Alekhine, although in the
latter’s case it was observed that his dubious assistance was the only obstacle to holding the com-
Lake Hopatcong 1926

1 2 3 4 5
1 Capablanca, José Raúl • 1-½ 1-½ ½-½ 1-1 6
2 Kupchik, Abraham 0-½ • 1-½ ½-1 1-½ 5
3 Maróczy, Géza 0-½ 0-½ • 1-½ 1-1 41⁄2
4 Marshall, Frank James ½-½ ½-0 0-½ • 1-0 3
5 Lasker, Edward 0-0 0-½ 0-0 0-1 • 11⁄2
petition. Asked about the new tournament in the Soviet capital, Capablanca answered that he
had not received a direct communication of any kind, and that if it happened in an official
fashion he would give the conditions the most careful scrutiny. Before his return to Havana,
Capablanca wrote to both Alekhine and Nimzowitsch on September 21 from New York,
and four days later to Lizardo Molina Carranza, president of the Argentine Chess Club.6
The following is the text of those three letters:
New York, September 21, 1926.
Dear Dr. Alekhine:
I have been postponing this letter due to the number of things I have had to ponder before
writing it. You may know that Mr. Nimzowitsch challenged me before you did, and that the
negotiation of a matter such as a chess match cannot be done by wire without incurring great
expenses. Why then telegraph instead of writing me a letter? Until I receive a letter from you
and another from the Argentine Chess Club, explaining the essential details, I will be unable to
discuss the matter in any depth. I certainly will not be able to set aside Mr. Nimzowitsch.
Enclosed you will find a copy of a letter I wrote him. As you well know, he was not present at
the London meeting, and it is highly possible he is not familiar with the regulations. This letter,
I believe, covers the matter in its entirety for him as well as for you.
As for the Argentine Chess Club, it is necessary for me to receive a letter from that institution
with an offer in writing, and, if at all feasible, indicating at the same time how far are they will-
ing to go as far as expenses are concerned. Please bear in mind that I would need 25 days to
travel from Havana to Buenos Aires, and another 25 days for the return trip; that I should arrive
in Buenos Aires about ten days before the beginning of the match; and that I could see myself
forced to stay some more days in Buenos Aires after the match, waiting for the departure of the
steamship to return; that for the match at least four weeks will be needed, perhaps even six or
eight, and the total time would then be no less than three months, probably four. Being the chal-
lenger, you may find satisfaction in the time spent to win the disputed title; there is, however, no
such compensation for me. The remuneration obtained is all that there is in it for me there.
Please submit these points to the consideration of the Argentine Chess Club, since, as
extremely much as I would like to play a match with you, my expenses are going to be consider-
able, and, unless they are inclined to be liberal in this particular, I will not be able to risk my
title. I plan to charge twenty dollars per day from my arrival in Buenos Aires until the conclu-
sion of the match, plus my travel expenses from Havana and back, which I surmise could be
somewhere around U.S. $1,500. Let me know what the ideas of the Club are in this respect.
Regards,
J. R. Capablanca.7
The letter to Nimzowitsch read:
New York, September 21, 1926
Mr. A. Nimzowitsch
Copenhagen
My Dear Mr. Nimzowitsch:
I have read news reports and articles in chess magazines in which you challenged me to play a
match for the world chess championship. So far I did not get anything directly from you to that
effect. Meanwhile I got a cable challenge by Mr. Alekhine and an offer to deposit a forfeit to
guarantee the match. While I’m quite ready to play against you, at the same time I can not disre-
gard the rights of Mr. Alekhine. Therefore it is up to you to show that you are able to obtain the
necessary funds for the match. I’m ready to give you until January 1, 1927, to show results. If by
that time you can deposit a forfeit of U.S. $500 dollars [about $6,800 in 2015] with the Ameri-
can Chess Bulletin to guarantee the match to take place during 1927 at a date designated by me,
very well. If not, I should consider your challenge to be void, and I will consider the one by Mr.
Alekhine.
We mutually understand, of course, that your forfeit will guarantee the match in correspon-
dence with the world’s chess championship rules of London 1922, a copy of with I enclose, and
therefore if the match does not take place for any reason, whatsoever, you will then lose your for-
feit.
Please take note that the club or institution putting up the purse is compelled to post a forfeit
of three thousand dollars three months before the start of the match and that you as well as I
must deposit an additional $500 in order to bond and cover the entire operation.
Let me hear from you at your earliest convenience.
J.R. Capablanca.8
Last came the letter to Lizardo Molina:

New York, Sept 25, 1926
Mr. Lizardo Molina
Pres. A.C. club
Buenos Aires
My distinguished friend:
I received your wire as well as Alekhine’s. I answered Alekhine’s days ago, and today yours as
follows: “Accept in principle published cable to Alekhine correct, letter follows.” I am attaching
a copy of my letter to Nimzowitsch and of the conditions for the World Championship. As you
will see, nothing certain can be done until it is known what Nimzowitsch is willing to do. More-
over, if I receive a bigger offer than yours for the match with Alekhine, I shall be under the obli-
gation of accepting the bigger offer. This, however, will not occur, I believe. I do not think there
is another institution interested in the match with Alekhine; therefore, for the sake of saving
time we can start discussing certain points. The most important thing in my regard is the
expenses. I have estimated that my travel expenses of my round trip from Cuba will be, in round
numbers, fifteen hundred dollars. [underlined in the original; more than $20,000.] I will have to
journey here from Cuba to take the Lamport and Holt’s [steamship] Voltaire, where a single
stateroom equipped with a bathroom costs five hundred dollars [underlined in the original;
about $6,800], from here to Buenos Aires. I also expect to receive twenty dollars for daily
expenses in Buenos Aires for the duration of the match, from my arrival in B.A. until the conclu-
sion of the match. [Underlined in the original.] A nice hotel in that city can be very expensive,
and during a match of that nature where my title is at stake, naturally I cannot be thinking about
savings. Please be so kind as to inform me whether you are in agreement with these particulars.
Please tell D. José Pérez Mendoza that I am counting on him to be so gracious as to act as the
Referee for this match in case it takes place, and that I would be obliged if he can write me a few
lines to this address about the subject.
Awaiting your reply, I remain at your disposal.
J.R. Capablanca.9
Capablanca’s response to Molina, which was received in Buenos Aires October 25, was
the most enlightening of the three, since it not only “accepted in principle” Alekhine’s chal-
lenge, but also delved into other matters such as travel expenses and choosing an arbiter.
Capablanca and Alekhine’s correspondence with the Argentine Chess Club clearly establishes
that long before the New York 1927 tournament, both had reached an agreement for the match,
contrary to what was later suggested by Alekhine. This is a fragment of the letter in which Capa-
blanca accepts “in principle” Alekhine’s challenge (courtesy of the Argentine Chess Club).
The other two were of a more informative character, especially the one addressed to Alekhine,
although they mentioned in general terms details such as travel and lodging costs, suggesting
the need for a generous sponsor, as was the case in Havana in 1921. It is somewhat surprising
that in the space of four days Capablanca would write three letters that to some level excluded
each other: the one to Molina, accepting “in principle” the proposal to play in Buenos Aires;
the one to Alekhine, saying that he would “not be able to set aside Mr. Nimzowitsch”; and
the one to Nimzowitsch himself, who had until January 1, 1927, to make his challenge official.
(This last letter seems more a courtesy acknowledgment of receipt than anything else.)
But it follows from this correspondence that at the moment Capablanca was not happy
about the idea of having to travel to Buenos Aires and stay there for the time the match
demanded—a match that from the very beginning he knew would be a long and arduous
one. His wished the match to be played in the United States, financed by New York and
Philadelphia, but in a few weeks he understood this to be no more than an illusion. In answer-
ing Alekhine’s wires, the Cuban master estimated that “for the match at least four weeks will
be needed, perhaps even six or eight, and the total time would then be no less than three
months, probably four.” The possibility of spending so much time far from home and in
such a distant place was not to his liking, as evidenced by this passage from his letter to
Alekhine:
Please bear in mind that I would need 25 days to travel from Havana to Buenos Aires, and
another 25 days for the return trip; that I should arrive in Buenos Aires about ten days before
the beginning of the match; and that I could see myself forced to stay some more days in Buenos
Aires after the match, waiting for the departure of the steamship to return….10
The financial commitments started to be formalized step by step from September 1,
1926, when the Argentine Chess Club informed Alekhine in writing about their latest agree-
ments:
Buenos Aires, September 1, 1926.
Dr. Alejandro [sic] Alekhine.
Present.
Dear Sir:
The Board of Directors of the Argentine Chess Club unanimously resolved at the date of this
meeting to sponsor and organize, to be held in Buenos Aires, on the basis of the London Rules
of 1922, the match for the World Chess Championship.
To this effect, it puts at your disposal the amount of $500 (five hundred dollars) [more than
$6,800 in 2015], whose deposit said Rules call for, to make official the challenge to the Cham-
pion Don José Raúl Capablanca.
Sincerely Yours.
President [unsigned] Secretary [unsigned][courtesy Argentine Chess Club Archives.]
After a wire alerting Capablanca was sent, the matter caused immediate ripples in the
press. A dispatch from the Associated Press in Buenos Aires dated September 3 and published
in the New York Times (September 4, page 9) informed readers that Alekhine had made his
challenge known to Capablanca by wire and made his $500 deposit, at the same time that
it was said that the Argentine Chess Club would pay, besides the $10,000 purse (more than
$130,000 in 2015), the travel and lodging expenses in the Argentinian capital of both par-
ticipants. In regards to these two things, however, the press was ahead of reality. On Sep-
tember 21, when Capablanca wrote his notes both to Alekhine and Nimzowitsch, all the
Cuban master had in his hands were the wires alerting him of Alekhine’s challenge, since
although almost three weeks had passed he had had no other communication from Buenos
Aires clarifying the matter. On September 27, he answered Molina’s wires:
New York. Date 27. 9. 1926
ACCEPT ON PRINCIPLE PUBLISHED CABLE TO ALEKHINE. CORRECT LETTER FOL-
LOWS.
CAPABLANCA.
It was Molina’s positive answer to this letter which for the first time gave solid ground
to Alekhine’s challenge, since it formally accepted the Cuban master’s financial terms, such
as a $1,500 (more than $20,000 in 2015) budget for travel expenses for his Havana–New
York–Buenos Aires round trip, as well as a daily $20 (about $260) allowance for expenses
during the match. The board of the Argentine Chess Club approved these conditions set by
Capablanca on November 19:
Argentine Chess Club
Buenos Aires, November 9, 1926.
Mr. José Raúl Capablanca
c/c H. Helms / 150 Nassau Street
NEW YORK
My dear friend:
I have the pleasure to respond to your letter from September 25, whose content I have thor-
oughly examined, and with respect to which I would like to comment as follows.
1st. The Board of Directors has duly noted what is stated in your letter in regard to the
Championship and the total expenses for your round-trip and stay.
2nd. The Board has decided to accept the total sum of those expenses, namely 1,500 dollars
plus a daily allowance of 20 dollars for the course of the match.
As for the matter of making Don José Pérez Mendoza the match referee, I will discuss the sub-
ject with him in a timely manner and will directly transmit to you the corresponding answer.
It is my conviction, as well as the wish of all chess lovers, that the World Tournament will be
played here next year, and that you will be so kind as to grace us with your presence and be
among us again, so we can enjoy such a noted match to the fullest.
Lizardo Carranza [both telegrams courtesy Argentine Chess Club Archives].
Once these obstacles had been overcome, and after Alekhine’s late response from Paris
on December 7 to Capablanca’s September 21 letter, the date for the match was still pending.
In this regard, Capablanca informed Carranza that he and Alekhine would come to some
arrangement once they met in person at the New York tournament, which by the end of the
year 1926 was assumed to be a sure thing. An unexpected obstacle appeared when the New
York organizers, without knowing how far advanced were the negotiations for the Buenos
Aires match, started to promote their own competition as an event where whoever won or
took second place (in case Capablanca won) would challenge the Cuban master, something
that enraged Alekhine and made him uneasy. This idea would not have been too outlandish
before Capablanca and Alekhine came to an agreement about the tournament, but after that
just made no sense.
On January 6, 1927, Capablanca sent Alekhine a telegram reassuring him that the New
York event had nothing to do with their personal agreement for the match in Argentina, in
the following terms: “Alekhine, Paris. N.Y. Tournament has no connection whatsoever with
our negotiations. Capablanca.” To ensure that he was understood, a day later Capablanca
sent him a more elucidatory wire: “As written and cabled before our match will take place
independent of results of New York Tournament provided all London Championship rules
are met naming of treasurer at present unnecessary when you reach N.Y. will get together
regarding referee, treasurer, etc. Capablanca” (American Chess Journal, Volume I, 1992).
And in a letter to Lederer, also quoted in its entirety by Russell in his American Chess
Journal, Capablanca asked him to explain to Alekhine that the program of the New York
tournament, which contained the misinformation about selecting the challenger, had been
printed before he and Capablanca had agreed to play the match, and therefore “it is not the
desire of the committee to interfere with it.” On January 14, despite the two telegrams
received from Capablanca (Lederer’s letter had obviously not had time to reach him),
Alekhine sent Lederer a wire stating that he would not play unless the organizers would
explicitly confirm that their “tournament will have no connection whatsoever [with] our
match.” This makes abundantly clear that Alekhine did not deem sufficient the assurances
Capablanca had made in both his wires.
Alekhine would later misrepresent the whole situation. Both in the introduction to his
own book about the 1927 New York tournament and in his book On the Road to the World
Championship 1923–1927, he wrote that the matter of the match remained open until the
spring of 1927. However, the telegrams and letters exchanged between him and Capablanca
gave evidence that in December 1926 they were both in agreement on all aspects except the
exact starting date and some minor details such as the names of the arbiter and the treasurer.
Since Alekhine perhaps did not have at hand his correspondence with the Cuban master, he
can be given the benefit of the doubt in not remembering the exact timetable of the facts.
But, in any event, there seems to be a conscious effort on his part to recollect in a negative
light the negotiations that led to the Buenos Aires match.
Thus, when the New York Times announced on December 27 that Alekhine would also
participate in the tournament, the matter was not yet settled, since they were also still waiting
for Emanuel Lasker’s confirmation. The comment that appeared under the section “Topics
of the Times” was unsigned, as was customary in this section devoted to the most important
sporting events, but it was plain that its anonymous author (probably Hermann Helms) was
a chess Olympus insider. The comment about Alekhine and the influence of Capablanca in
the development of the former’s talent is of great historical significance:
Alekhine is considered by many to be one of the few players conceded to have more than an out-
side chance of lifting Capablanca’s world title in a championship match. His play combines vir-
tually all that has been brought out in chess—the combinative brilliances of early days, the
sounder development maneuvers of the Morphy and Steinitz era, and, lastly, the highly devel-
oped positional technique as exemplified by Capablanca. Indeed it is said, that it was largely
through Capablanca’s own influence, through their association over a period, that Alekhine acquired
that soundness of play which rescued him from being styled merely a spectacular player. From Capa-
blanca he gained that stability which, added to his own dynamic style, has made him one of the
truly great masters of the day [italics added].11
The possible influence of Capablanca on Alekhine was corroborated by the Cuban master
in his first article on the New York tournament, published also in the New York Times on February
19, 1927: “Early in 1914 Alekhine’s brother came from Moscow to St. Petersburg. We became
good friends with the result that very soon the three of us went out together a great deal. In that
way the writer was somewhat influential in shaping the development of Alekhine’s game.”
Capablanca, who by that time had developed a certain aversion to traveling by boat
between Havana and New York, maybe a sign of seasickness, took again the route of the
Florida Keys on board the shuttle Governor Cobb. It has to be taken into account that, during
the winter months, storms and strong winds batter all of the U.S. East Coast; so taking the
Key West route was a way to avoid rough seas. When Capablanca disembarked, he gave as
his profession “Proprietor,” further evidence that he was not serving in the Cuban diplomatic
corps at the time. Before heading for New York, Capablanca suffered the loss of his mother,
Matilde María, who died on December 6. She was buried in the tomb the family had built
in the Cristóbal Colón Cemetery in Havana, by the side of her husband José María. With
her went the last vestiges of Capablanca’s childhood.
On February 2, Capablanca arrived in Manhattan and went straight to the Central
Square Hotel, which at this time was able to offer better lodgings by far than Harry Latz’s
Alamac Hotel. From the beginning of January, it became clear that Emanuel Lasker and
Bogoljubow would not participate in the tournament. It is lamentable that chess historians
and even leading figures of the game have had so little respect for the facts as to write that
Emanuel Lasker was not invited in order to “accommodate” Capablanca’s wishes, when there
is not a single shred of evidence that corroborates such an accusation. By contrast, Hanon
W. Russell’s article in the American Chess Journal (number 1, 1992) detailed the efforts that
were made in order to bring the German master to the event, especially the pressure exerted
by Harold M. Phillips, one of the most respected figures in American chess. Phillips went
so far as to warn that he would not cooperate with the organizational efforts for the 1927
New York tournament unless Emanuel Lasker was invited.
According to Russell’s account, Lederer sent the former world champion a long, five-
page typewritten letter explaining his terms in minute detail, in order to avoid any misin-
terpretation. Lasker said that he received an ultimatum in disrespectful terms: either he
accepted, or Tarrasch would take his place. Lasker included the Cuban master’s name among
the members of the organizing committee that were supposedly against his participation.
This was in direct contradiction to the interest shown by Capablanca in inviting him to a
tournament to be held in Havana, immediately after the New York tournament was over.
Like many such events organized in Cuba, it was a makeshift project whose odds of actually
being held were slim. In turn, this uncertainty did not allow enough time for sending invi-
tations beforehand, so they chose some of the participants in the New York tournament.
Capablanca’s letter of invitation to Emanuel Lasker shows that the Cuban master was not
interested in excluding him from the New York or the Havana competitions. Moreover, his
offer of $2,000 (more than $26,000 in 2015) for travel and lodging expenses was even higher
than the one asked by himself for his own in his negotiations with the Argentine Chess
Club.
Here is the text of Capablanca’s letter inviting Lasker to the Havana tournament:
New York, March 1st, 1927
Dear Dr. Lasker:
A Tournament been arranged in Havana to take place right after the close of the New York
Tournament. It will thus begin around March 28, 1927. All the participants in the New
York Tournament will be invited, and besides, Maróczy, Dr. Tartakower and Réti. It will be
a double round affair at the rate of 40 moves in 2½ hours. Play to take place every day during the
week. The schedule will be arranged according to the final number of participants in order to
make the Tournament as short as possible without interfering with the absolute necessities of
the players’ welfare. The prizes will be as follows: 1st $1,500 or $1,600 [about $20,000 or
$21,000 in 2015]; 2nd $1,200 or $1,100 [about $16,000]; 3rd $800 or $700 [$10,000];
$9,105]; 4th $400 [$5,000]. In addition $50 [$700] a point will be paid to the non-prize win-
ners. Those prizes might be enlarged but not diminished. As there is no time for correspondence
or negotiations of any sort, the directing hands, one of whom is Dr. Ponce who signs with me,
have decided to offer you at once the maximum they are ready to offer, viz: $2,000 (two thou-
sand dollars) [more than $26,000] to cover your playing fee and your traveling expenses from
Europe and back. Once you are here you will be taken care of in the same form as the other play-
ers. This is of course independent of any prize money you may win.
Upon receipt of this kindly cable YES or NO to: Doctor Alberto Ponce, Union Club, Havana.
YES, of course, will mean that you accept to come and be here on time to play on the above
named tournament that will begin the first of April. NO will mean that you will not play. If you
cable YES, we will forward by cable to the same address as this letter, one thousand dollars. The
other thousand to cover your fee and traveling expenses will be given to you within 24 hours
after your arrival. Dr. Ponce wishes to be excused from writing on account of his lack of knowl-
edge of the English language. He says he would be delighted to see you here once more.
Hoping to obtain a favorable answer, I remain
Sincerely yours,
J.R. Capablanca
(Agreed to in every respect: Alberto Ponce.)12
The German master cited Capablanca’s letter as another example that he had inten-
tionally been invited to Havana too late, in order for him not to be able to attend. However,
everything seems to indicate that Capablanca did not send it earlier due to a lack of certainty
about raising the funds for the competition, which in the end were never raised. Lasker
admitted that the letter was written January 26 and that Ponce did not release it with his
approval until February 22, when he sent it to Capablanca in New York. From there Capa-
blanca resent it to Lasker in early March. Attached to this invitation there was another letter
to Lasker from Capablanca, in which the Cuban master advised him in an irate tone that,
unless Lasker apologized, he would sever relations with him as a consequence of the accu-
sations made by the ex-world champion regarding Capablanca’s alleged role in the maneuvers
for his invitation to the New York tournament. Such a gratuitous attack had topped Capa-
blanca’s patience. On the other hand, it is not hard to interpret this letter as a sort of payback,
given the similar demands for a retraction that Emanuel Lasker had made him in 1911.
Dr. Emanuel Lasker.
Dear Sir:
The enclosed letter was written before I left Havana, when the tournament seemed
already assured and before you undertook once more to attack me through the press without
any provocation on my part. Réti and Tartakower are not here, therefore they may not play.
As far as you are concerned the enclosed letter is an invitation which speaks for itself. I
must add, however, that unless you apologize and retract through the press all that you have
said against me I shall never play (after Havana) in any Tournament in which you participate. As
you might claim that my decision is an excuse to avoid a match with you, I wish to state that
should you challenge and deposit a forfeit to bind the challenge I cannot very well refuse to play,
but I shall insist in your case and only in your case, that once my 20% fee be taken from the
purse, the rest of it shall all go to the winner.
I wish to add that I shall not accept any communication from you unless preceded by a com-
plete apology.
Yours truly,
J.R. Capablanca13
Starting with its January 26, 1927, edition, the New York Times echoed the scandal that
was rocking the Olympus of chess:
Chess Falls Prey to Scandal Vogue

Dr. Lasker, Ex Champion, Makes
Charges of Crooked Clocks
and Palmed Gate Receipts.
Tournament Committee Man says
Master smoked out Rivals, Used
Unfair ventilation Methods
Following the example of baseball or football, chess is having an upheaval, with charges of bru-
tality, crooked timing of moves, palming the gate receipts, regulating the ventilation so as to dis-
turb the opponent and everything but sloughing games and monogramming noses with seal rings.
Dr. Emanuel Lasker, the former world champion, has rejected all overtures to take part in the
international grandmaster’s chess tournament next month, alleging that in the tournament here
in 1924 he had been clocked by a highly sophisticated timepiece and that his share of the “gate”
had not been delivered to him. Dr. Lasker also alleges that both in 1924 and this year arrange-
ments for the tournament were designed to exclude him from the competition.
As it was to be expected, the matter went beyond the borders of Manhattan Island.
From Philadelphia, Walter Penn Shipley went above and beyond what was permissible regard-
ing such a respected figure as Emanuel Lasker by calling him “cantankerous.” In turn, Lederer
publicly denied the accusations, but instead of limiting himself to the facts such as they were,
or as he said they had been, he referred to Emanuel Lasker in a derogatory fashion, implying
that his complaints were a result of the infirmities of old age, and said, “I imagine that Capa-
blanca is a thorn in his side.” Spielmann took Lasker’s place in the New York tournament.
As Hanon Russell sadly described the affair (in his November 1992, American Chess Journal
article, pages 91–92), “One of the greatest events of all time was held without one of the
greatest players of all time.”
As for Bogoljubow’s absence, his impulsive telegram to Lederer is well known, in which
he told him that instead of a “mediocre tournament,” the money and efforts should be going
into organizing a match between him and Capablanca. However, less well known is his letter
to Capablanca of December 9, 1926 (Russell collection number 78, also quoted in American
Chess Journal, page 91), where at some points he soberly argued about the need that chess
masters be adequately compensated: “The sum of $2,000 [nearly $27,000 in 2015] as first
prize is insufficient to induce me to put forth my best effort. The reason is that from this
money I could only live at the most three quarters of a year with my family, although I have
my own house.”
This logical reasoning contrasted with other, somewhat off-color comments he made
in the same letter, where he talked about his poor relationship with other masters such as
Alekhine, Spielmann or Vidmar, and at the same time rated himself above Alekhine, since
despite his opinion that Alekhine was an “exceptionally successful master, he has never had
results even approaching my result in Moscow in 1925.” He also displayed a complete pro-
fessional disdain for Nimzowitsch: “You know as well as I do that he, notwithstanding his
fairly good results, is hardly a real grandmaster.” In regard to receiving his due at the time as
a top chess star, as well as in his comments comparing his and Alekhine’s results up to 1927,
he had a point, since Alekhine had not ranked above Emanuel Lasker and Capablanca in
any competition. Andy Soltis observed in his prologue to Alekhine’s book about the 1927
New York tournament (translated into English in 2011 by Russell Enterprises) that Bogoljubow
and Emanuel Lasker, according to Chessmetric, were the highest-rated chess players in the
world after Moscow 1925. What Bogoljubow did not know was that Alekhine had set as the
foremost condition for his own participation that they did not invite Bogoljubow. To make
the slight even more biting, the organizers gave Alekhine the financial compensation that
they did not want to bestow on the Ukrainian-German player.
The New York tournament began February 19, 1927. From his arrival in the city, the
world champion started writing an eight-article series for the New York Times. Capablanca
devoted almost a third of one of these articles (February 19) to Alekhine, alleging that he
did not believe that the Russian could be a dangerous rival in any match: “The writer believes
that he has not the proper temperament for match play. We think that he has not the proper
combative spirit. Furthermore, he is extremely nervous, qualities both of which should work
to his detriment in a long and protracted struggle against a cool and resourceful opponent.”14
A somewhat forgotten detail of the New York Tournament 1927 is that over the years some
writers, such as Fred Reinfeld, have said that it was a tournament for candidates to the crown,
which was an absolute falsehood. Alekhine contributed enormously to this reputation when
he said that the best player outside of Capablanca would be the challenger for the champi-
onship, which explained his weak playing and tribulations.15
As evidenced by the letters and telegrams sent between all parties involved, when the
tournament started Capablanca and Alekhine had already arranged their match; the initial
date was still pending, since there were letters sent from New York to Buenos Aires and from
Buenos Aires to New York or Havana that never made it to their destinations. An impasse
in the correspondence sent from Argentina made both Capablanca and Alekhine believe
that the match organizers had changed their minds, whether because of the outcome of the
tournament or difficulties in raising the considerable funds required, or both. Through
Ricardo Illa,16 Capablanca received confidential firsthand information on the discussions
about the match in the Argentine Chess Club. His worries on the matter are evidenced in
the two letters that follow, both written after the end of the New York tournament.
UNION CLUB—HAVANA
June 2/927
Mr. Lizardo Molina
Pres. A.C.C.
My dear friend,
I have received a wire from Dr. Alekhine telling me that you had not received the letter we
sent you from New York, which I thought extremely odd.
Just yesterday, I sent a wire to you and another to Dr. Alekhine, reiterating my purpose of
beginning the match in your city on September 1. In my latest letters, to which I have yet to
receive an answer, I named Mr. Ricardo Illa as treasurer for the match, and Mr. José Pérez Men-
doza as arbiter. Dr. Alekhine has agreed to both nominations, and I hope that those two gentle-
men agree as well. Please be so kind as to beg them in my name to accept. I await your
immediate answer to American Chess Bulletin, 150 Nassau St. New York City, because I am trav-
eling to that city by ship in two to three weeks. I also beg you to send me a wire to the following
address: “Chess” New York, letting me know if you are amenable to everything, and I beg you to
send me at the same time the money stipulated for my travel expenses.
Since I have been notified of rumors to the effect that the club perhaps would not hold the
match already arranged, due to the outcome of the last New York tournament, I must warn you
that, in case that is true, I expect a compensation of no less than two thousand dollars ($26,000
or more in 2015), as well as a contract at your club for no less than two weeks at the rate of $150
(over $2000) per session and no less than four sessions a week, with the club also picking up my
round-trip travel expenses in the way stipulated by the match contract. In such case, my expenses
during my Buenos Aires stay would come out of my pocket.
Notwithstanding, I expect that the match will take place, because otherwise the failure would
be difficult to explain.
Please be so kind as to pay my respects to the Club Board.
Sincerely Yours,
J.R. Capablanca17
At the start of the New York tournament, Capablanca was as out of shape as usual. He
was soon seen in an uncomfortable position playing White against Spielmann, but the mis-
takes of his rival soon led to a draw on move 28. But the second round saw a memorable win
against Nimzowitsch.
Aron I. Nimzowitsch–Capablanca [D30]

2nd Round, New York, 20 February 1927
1. c4 Nf6 2. Nf3 e6 3. d4 d5 4. e3 Be7 5. Nbd2 0–0 6. Bd3 c5 7. d×c5 Better is 7. b3
(Alekhine). 7. ... Na6 8. 0–0 Better is 8. Nb3 d×c4 9. B×c4 Q×d1+ 10. K×d1 N×c5 11. N×c5
B×c5 12. Ke2 with an even game (Alekhine). 8. ... N×c5 9. Be2 b6 10. c×d5 Better is 10. b3
(Alekhine). 10. ... N×d5 11. Nb3 Bb7 12. N×c5 B×c5 Black is already much better. 13. Qa4
Better is 13. Bd2 Qf6 14. Qb3 e5 15. Bc3 (Alekhine). 13. ... Qf6! 14. Ba6 B×a6 15. Q×a6
Nb4 16. Qe2 Rfd8 17. a3 Nd3 18. Ne1 If 18. Rd1 Ne5 19. N×e5 Q×e5 and Black is better.
18. ... N×e1 19. R×e1 Rac8 20. Rb1 Qe5 21. g3 If 21. Bd2 Bd6 22. g3 Rc2 23. Qd3 R×b2
24. Bc3 R×b1 25. B×e5 R×e1+ 26. Kg2 Rc1 and Black is better. 21. ... Qd5 “This maneuver
is the key to Black’s combination. It involves, later on, the possible sacrifice of the queen
and, incidentally, it shows the difference between ordinary play and master play. The average
contestant plays as the game goes. The master visualizes the position as a whole and tries to
provide for all future contingencies. The object of this move is manifold. It reinforces the
control of the open d file, for the moment at least; it threatens to go to either b3 or a2, as
the occasion may demand, and finally it provides, if necessary, by means of Qd3, a way to
oppose the inroad of White’s queen via a6, into Black’s pawn position” (Capablanca). 22. b4
Bf8 23. Bb2 Qa2 24. Ra1 Better seems 24. Rbd1 R×d1 25. R×d1 a5 26. b×a5 b×a5 and
now White could play 27. Rd2! After 27. … a4 Black has only a
small advantage. 24. ... Qb3 25. Bd4 Rc2 26. Qa6 (see diagram)
26. ... e5! 27. B×e5 Rdd2 28. Qb7 If 28. Rf1 Q×e3! 29. Bf4 wDw4wgkD
R×f2! winning. If 28. Qf1 Qd5 29. Bf4 Qh5 30. h4 h6 31. Rac1 0wDwDp0p
R×f2 32. Q×f2 R×f2 33. K×f2 g5 34. h×g5 h×g5 35. Be5 (if Q0wDpDwD
35. Rh1 Qg6 36. Bc7 Qf6+ 37. Ke2 Qb2+ with a winning posi-
DwDwDwDw
w)wGwDwD
tion) 35. ... Qh2+ 36. Kf1 Bg7 37. Bd6 Bb2 and Black is winning.
)qDw)w)w
28. ... R×f2 29. g4 Qe6 30. Bg3 R×h2! 31. Qf3 If 31. B×h2 wDrDw)w)
Q×g4+ 32. Kh1 Qh3 and mate. 31. ... Rhg2+ 32. Q×g2 R×g2+ $wDw$wIw
33. K×g2 Q×g4 34. Rad1 h5 35. Rd4 Qg5 36. Kh2 a5 37. Re2
a×b4 38. a×b4 Be7 39. Re4 Bf6 40. Rf2 Qd5 41. Re8+ Kh7 After 26. Qa6
In the next round Capablanca continued his good pace with delicate positional work.
Capablanca–Frank J. Marshall [E11]

3rd Round, New York, 22 February 1927
1. d4 Nf6 2. Nf3 e6 3. c4 Bb4+ 4. Bd2 B×d2+ 5. Nb×d2 d5 Nowadays 5. ... d6 is pre-
ferred. 6. g3 0–0 7. Bg2 Nbd7 8. 0–0 Qe7 9. Qc2 b6 10. c×d5 N×d5 11. e4 Nb4 12. Qc3
c5 13. a3 Na6 If 13. ... Nc6 14. d5 with advantage (Alekhine). 14. d×c5 Alekhine recommends
14. Rfe1! Bb7 15. d5. 14. ... b×c5 Better is 14. ... Q×c5 15. Rac1 Q×c3 16. R×c3 Bb7 17. b4
Nf6 with an even game (Alekhine). But after 18. e5 Nd7 19. Rfc1 Rac8 20. Bf1 White is bet-
ter. 15. Nc4 Bb7 16. Nfe5! N×e5 17. Q×e5 Rad8 18. Rfd1 f6 19. Qc3 R×d1+ 20. R×d1
Rd8 21. Rd3 Nb8 22. R×d8+ Q×d8 23. Qb3 Ba6 Interesting is 23. ... Bc6. 24. Bh3 (see
diagram)
whw1wDkD 24. ... Nc6 Better is 24. ... Kf7 25. Ne3 Qc8 and now not
0wDwDw0p 26. B×e6+ Q×e6 27. Q×b8 Q×e4 28. Q×a7+ Bb7 with coun-
bDwDp0wD terplay (Alekhine), but after 26. Qd1 Qc6 27. Bg2 Qb5 28. Qh5+
Dw0wDwDw Kg8 29. Bf1 Qc6 30. B×a6 N×a6 31. e5 f5 32. Qh4 Nc7
wDNDPDwD 33. Qd8+ Kf7 34. Nc4 White has a big advantage. 25. B×e6+
)QDwDw)B Kh8 26. Bd5 With a winning position. 26. ... Nd4 27. Qa4
w)wDw)w) B×c4 28. Q×c4 Qc8 29. Kg2 Qg4 30. e5 f×e5 31. Q×c5 h5
DwDwDwIw 32. Qf8+ Kh7 33. Bg8+ Kh6 34. Qd6+ g6 35. Qf8+ Black
After 24. Bh3 resigned. 1–0.
When Capablanca beat Alekhine (White) in the fifth round of the tournament, the
Cuban held on to first place with 4 points of 5 possible.
Alexander A. Alekhine–Capablanca [E16]

4th Round, New York, 24 February 1927
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nf3 b6 4. g3 Bb7 5. Bg2 c5 Nowadays the main line is 5. ... Be7
6. 0–0 0–0 7. Nc3 Ne4 8. Bd2 f5 9. d5 Bf6 10. Rc1 Na6 11. a3 c6 with an even game. 6. d5
e×d5 7. Nh4 g6 8. Nc3 Bg7 9. 0–0 0–0 10. Bf4 Better is 10. Bg5! h6 11. N×d5! B×d5 12. B×f6
Q×f6 13. Q×d5 Nc6 14. Q×d7 Ne5? (better is 14. … Rac8 but White is much better after
15. Rab1 Rfd8 16. Qb7 Na5 17. Qa6 g5 18. Bh3 Ra8 19. Nf5) 15. Qa4 Rae8 16. Bd5 g5 17. Ng2
Ng6 18. e3 Re7 19. Qc2 Rd7 20. b3 Ne7 21. Rad1 Rfd8 22. e4 Qg6 23. f4 Qh5 24. f×g5 N×d5
25. e×d5 h×g5 26. Qf5 Bd4+ 27. Kh1 with a winning position. Capablanca–Marshall, Carls-
bad 1929. 10. ... d6 11. c×d5 Nh5 12. Bd2 Nd7 13. f4 Better is 13. e4 Nhf6 14. f4 (Alekhine).
But Black is OK after 14. ... a6 15. a4 Re8 13. ... a6 14. Bf3 If 14. a4 (Alekhine), then 14. ...
b5! 15. a×b5 a×b5 16. R×a8 (if 16. N×b5 Qb6 17. Nc3 R×a1 18. Q×a1 Ra8 19. Qb1 Ba6 and
Black is a little better—Khalifman) 16. ... B×a8 17. N×b5 Qb6 18. Qa4 Nhf6 19. Ba5 Qa6
20. Ra1 N×d5 and Black is a little better (Khalifman). 14. ... Nhf6 15. a4 c4! 16. Be3 Qc7
17. g4 Maybe better is 17. b3 Rfe8 18. Bd4 c×b3 19. Q×b3 trying to eliminate the possible
weaknesses in b3 and d3. But after 19. ... Ne4 20. B×g7 Nd2 21. Qb2 Nc4 22. Qb4 K×g7
23. Rfc1 Qc5+ 24. Q×c5 N×c5 Black is a little better. 17. ... Nc5 18. g5 Nfd7 19. f5 Rfe8
20. Bf4 Be5 21. Bg4 If 21. Ng2 (Alekhine). 21. ... Nb3 22. f×g6 h×g6 23. Ra2 B×f4 24. N×f4
Qc5+ 25. Kh1 Qe3 and Black is winning. 21. ... Nb3 22. f×g6 h×g6 23. Rb1 (see diagram)
23. ... B×c3! The fate of d5 is sealed (Alekhine). 24. b×c3 rDwDrDkD
Qc5+ 25. e3 Ne5 26. Bf3 Nd3 27. Kh1 B×d5 With a winning Db1nDpDw
position. 28. R×b3 N×f4 Maybe stronger is 28. ... B×f3+ p0w0wDpD
29. N×f3 N×f4 30. Rb2 Nd5 29. Rb1 If 29. R×b6 B×f3+ DwDPgw)w
30. Q×f3 Q×b6 31. e×f4 Qe3 with a winning position. 29. ... PDpDwGBH
R×e3 The rest is easy. 30. Ng2 R×f3 31. R×f3 N×g2 32. K×g2 DnHwDwDw
Re8 33. Kf1 B×f3 34. Q×f3 Q×g5 35. Re1 R×e1+ 36. K×e1 w)wDPDw)
Qg1+ 37. Kd2 Q×h2+ 38. Kc1 Qe5 39. Kb2 Kg7 40. Qf2 b5 DRDQDRIw
41. Qb6 b×a4 42. Q×a6 Qe2+ White resigned. 0–1. After 23. Rb1
Capablanca wrote in his chronicle for the New York Times (February 27) that this game
provided great suspense for attendees to the tournament since they believed that Alekhine
“could successfully launch a direct attack against the King. The spectators were having a great
thrill, as we allowed the attack to proceed while we were building what to us (though perhaps
not to the spectators) seemed an impregnable position.… Our judgment proved sound, with
the result that very soon Alekhine’s game completely collapsed and he had to resign.”
Capablanca began the second cycle of the tournament with an easy victory against Mar-
shall, which Alekhine described as “horrible.” “It’s really unbelievable how self-consciously
and weakly Marshall always played against Capablanca! He put up quite a different resistance
opposite the other participants in New York—in spite of his apparently inferior shape,” wrote
the Russian in his book of the tournament (page 66). That day Alekhine also lost for all prac-
tical purposes his chance to fight for first place when he was defeated by Nimzowitsch. The
victory over Marshall was the only one for Capablanca in the second cycle of the tournament.
However, in the third cycle he returned to achieve four points of five possible.
The victory that Capablanca obtained against Spielmann in round 13 was another of
his memorable productions:
Capablanca–Rudolf Spielmann [D38]

1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 e6 3. c4 Nd7 4. Nc3 Ngf6 5. Bg5 Bb4 6. c×d5 e×d5 7. Qa4 The main
line nowadays is 7. Qc2 h6 8. Bh4 c5 9. e3 Qa5 10. Bd3 0–0 11. 0–0 c4 12. Bf5 7. ... B×c3+
Better is 7. ... Qe7 8. e3 c6 9. Bd3 h6 10. Bh4 0–0 11. 0–0 Re8 12. Rfe1 Qf8 (Alekhine). But
White is better after 13. a3 Be7 14. Qc2. 8. b×c3 0–0 9. e3 c5
Better is 9. ... Qe8 10. Qc2 (but not 10. Bd3? Ne5!—Alekhine). rDbDw4kD
10. Bd3 c4 11. Bc2 Qe7 If 11. ... Re8 12. 0–0 Re6 then 13. Bf5 DwDnDp0p
Ra6 14. Qc2 g6 15. Bh3 Nf8 16. B×c8 Q×c8 17. B×f6 R×f6 18. e4 pDwDwDwD
with advantage. 12. 0–0 a6 13. Rfe1 Qe6 If 13. ... b5 14. Qa5 Bb7 !pDqDwGw
15. Qc7 (Capablanca). For example: 15. ... Rab8 16. B×f6 g×f6 PDp)pDwD
17. Qg3+ Kh8 18. Qh4 winning. 14. Nd2 b5 15. Qa5 Ne4 If 15. ... Dw)w)wDw
Bb7 16. f3 with advantage. 16. N×e4 d×e4 17. a4 Qd5 If 17. ... wDBDw)P)
Rb8 18. Reb1 Qd5 19. Bf4 Rb6 20. a×b5 R×b5 21. R×b5 a×b5 $wDw$wIw
22. Rb1 with a winning position. But not 22. Ba4 Ba6! 23. Q×a6 After 17. … Qd5
Ra8 (see diagram)
“Here, in our opinion, we could have simply played 18. Bf4 and had a most satisfactory
game, but then there would have been no immediate victory and the final success could not
be said to be assured. We had, besides, two combinations, one by 18. Be7 Re8 19. a×b5 and
Black could not take the B because of Qd8+, but on the other hand he then could play 19. ...
Bb7 and come out of his immediate difficulties. Evidently that line of play would not do.
We had, therefore, to work out the only other combination left and see whether or not it
met all the requirements of the case. A careful examination showed us that Black had no
defense against that line of play and, consequently, to the great surprise of the spectators,
we proceeded to offer the immediate sacrifice of our B on g5” (Capablanca). 18. a×b5! Q×g5
19. B×e4 Rb8 If 19. ... Ra7 20. b6 Q×a5 21. b×a7 Bb7 (21. ... Q×a1 22. R×a1 Nb6 23. a8=Q
N×a8 24. B×a8) 22. R×a5 B×e4 23. R×a6 with material advantage (Alekhine). 23. ... Ra8
24. Re2 Bb7 25. Ra5 Kf8 26. Rb2 Bc8 27. Rb4 Ke7 28. R×c4 winning (Capablanca).
20. b×a6! Rb5 If 20. ... Q×a5 21. R×a5 Rb3 22. Rc1 Nb6 23. a7 winning. 21. Qc7 Nb6
22. a7 Bh3 23. Reb1 R×b1+ 24. R×b1 f5 25. Bf3 f4 26. e×f4 If 26. ... R×f4 27. a8=Q+
N×a8 28. Rb8+ Rf8 29. Q×c4+ Black resigned. 1–0.
In round 14, Capablanca had a difficult position against Alekhine.
Alexander A. Alekhine–Capablanca [B15]

1. e4 c6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 d×e4 4. N×e4 Nf6 5. Ng3 Nowadays, the main line is 5. N×f6+
5. ... e5 6. Nf3 e×d4 7. Q×d4 Q×d4 8. N×d4 Bc5 9. Ndf5 0–0 10. Be3 B×e3 11. N×e3
Be6 Better seems 11. ... Rd8 12. Be2 Be6 13. 0–0 Nbd7 14. Ngf5 Ne5 with an even game.
12. 0–0–0 Nbd7 13. Bc4 Nc5 Better is 13. ... Rfe8. 14. B×e6 N×e6 15. Ngf5 Ne4
16. Rhf1 g6 (see diagram)
17. Nd6 Alekhine considered that better is 17. f3 N4c5
rDwDw4kD 18. Nd6 a5 19. Nec4 with advantage. But Black could play 17. ...
0pDwDpDp Nf6 18. Nd6 b6 19. Rfe1 (if 19. Ng4 N×g4 20. f×g4 Rad8 with
wDpDnDpD an even game) 19. … Rad8 20. Rd2 Kg7 21. Red1 h5 22. b3 Nd5
DwDwDNDw 23. N×d5 R×d6 24. Nf4 R×d2 25. N×e6+ f×e6 26. R×d2 c5
wDwDnDwD 27. Rd6 Kf6 and Black can defends this endgame. For example:
DwDwHwDw 28. Rd7 Rf7 29. R×f7+ K×f7 30. Kd2 Kf6 31. Ke3 Kf5 32. h4
P)PDw)P) Ke5 33. a4 Kf5 34. g3 a6 35. c3 e5 36. Kd3 Ke6 37. Ke4 b5 38. a5
DwIRDRDw
Kd6 39. c4 b4 40. f4 e×f4 41. K×f4 Ke6 42. Ke4 Kd6 43. Kf4
After 16. … g6 Ke6 and draw 17. ... N×d6 18. R×d6 Rfd8 19. Rfd1 R×d6
20. R×d6 Rd8 21. R×d8+ N×d8 22. Kd2 Kf8 23. Kd3 Ke7
24. Kd4 Ne6+ 25. Ke4 f6 26. f4 Nc5+ 27. Kd4 Ne6+ 28. Ke4 Nc5+ Draw. ½–½.
In the following round, Capablanca scored another of his classic victories against Nim-
zowitsch (White). With that triumph the Cuban helped Alekhine to step forward in the
fight for second place.
Aron I. Nimzowitsch–Capablanca [B12]

1. e4 c6 2. d4 d5 3. e5 Bf5 4. Bd3 Nowadays, the main variations are 4. Nf3 e6 5. Be2,
or 4. Nc3 e6 5. g4 Bg6 6. Nge2. 4. ... B×d3 5. Q×d3 e6 6. Nc3 Qb6 7. Nge2 c5 8. d×c5
B×c5 9. 0–0 If 9. Qg3 Ne7 10. Q×g7 Rg8 11. Q×h7 R×g2 12. Nd1 Nbc6 13. Nf4 Rg8
14. Nd3 0–0–0 15. Q×f7 Nd4 with a winning position. 9. ... Ne7 10. Na4 10. a3 (Alekhine).
10. ... Qc6 11. N×c5 Q×c5 12. Be3 Qc7 13. f4 Nf5 14. c3 Better is 14. Rac1 Nc6 15. Bf2
h5 16. c4 d×c4 17. Q×c4 0–0 18. Rfd1 (Alekhine). 14. ... Nc6 15. Rad1 15. Bf2 h5 16. Rac1
(Alekhine). 15. ... g6 16. g4? Better is 16. Bf2 h5 17. Rd2 (Alekhine). 16. ... N×e3 17. Q×e3
h5 18. g5 0–0 19. Nd4 Qb6 20. Rf2 Rfc8 21. a3 Rc7 22. Rd3 Na5 22. ... Ne7 (Alekhine).
23. Re2 Re8 24. Kg2 Nc6 25. Red2 Better is 25. N×c6. “The exchange of knights would
have eased White’s defense!” (Kasparov). 25. ... Rec8 Better is 25. ... Ne7! 26. Re2 Better
is 26. N×c6. 26. ... Ne7 27. Red2 (see diagram)
“White’s idea in the above position is to hold the square wDrDwDkD
where his Kt. stands. If he can do so he can prevent the entrance 0p4whpDw
of Black’s pieces into the weak pawn line on White’s kingside. w1wDpDpD
Black’s plan, on the other hand, will be to overcome just that DwDp)w)p
resistance. For that purpose he will post his R at c4 and his K at wDwHw)wD
g7 so as to be ready to play Nf5 in order to either exchange the )w)R!wDw
White Kt. or drive it away from d4. Once the Kt. is exchanged
w)w$wDK)
DwDwDwDw
or driven away, Black will try to double his rooks along the fourth
row in order to attack White’s weak pawn at f4. Once that is After 27. Red2
accomplished he will then proceed to advance his b and a pawns
two squares and then advance his b pawn to b4 in order to force an exchange of pawns which
will leave the White b pawn weak. Then with White’s line of defense broken up and the
Black pieces having greater freedom of action a way will be found to exert sufficient pressure
against White’s several weaknesses, so as to obtain some material advantage which may decide
the issue. A look at the position will show that White can do nothing but wait, while Black,
having the open line for his rooks and controlling the square at c4, has more freedom of
action. Under these circumstances it may be feasible for Black to carry his plan into effect.
He, therefore, proceeds to try to carry out the plan explained above” (Capablanca). 27. ...
Rc4 28. Qh3 28. Qf2 (Alekhine). 28. ... Kg7 29. Rf2 a5 30. Re2 Nf5! “This is the opportune
moment to force the exchange of the knight” (Capablanca). 31. N×f5+ If 31. Red2 N×d4
32. R×d4 R×d4 33. c×d4 Qb5 34. Qf3 Rc1 and Black is better (Capablanca). 31. ... g×f5!
32. Qf3 “Should now White play 32. Q×h5, Black will answer with 32. ... Rh8, followed by
33. Qf3 Rh4 and the White pawn will fall” (Capablanca). 32. ... Kg6 33. Red2 Re4 34. Rd4
Rc4 35. Qf2 Qb5 36. Kg3 36. R×c4 Q×c4 37. Rd4 Qb3 with advantage for Black
(Alekhine). 36. ... Rc×d4 37. c×d4 Qc4 38. Kg2 b5 39. Kg1 b4 40. a×b4 a×b4 41. Kg2
Qc1 42. Kg3 Qh1! 43. Rd3 If 43. Re2 R×e2 44. Q×e2 Qg1+ (Panov). 43. ... Re1 44. Rf3
Rd1 45. b3 If 45. Kh3 Rd2! winning. If 45. Rb3 Qe4 46. R×b4 Rd3+ 47. Kh4 Rf3 winning
(Panov). 45. ... Rc1 46. Re3 Zugzwang. If 46. h3 Rg1+ 47. Kh4 Rg4 mate; if 46. Qd2 h4+;
46. Qe2 Qg1+ 47. Qg2 Q×d4; 46. Kh3 Rc2 (Kasparov). 46. ... Rf1. White resigned. If
47. Qe2 Qg1+ 48. Kh3 Re1! winning. 0–1.
This production deserved the prize for the best game of the tournament. It was Capa-
blanca’s fourth official victory over Nimzowitsch in the five games they had played until this
moment, with only one draw for the Danish master. In the fourth cycle of New York 1927, both
agreed to a draw. His performance in the third cycle made Capablanca play loosely in the fourth
and last cycle, where his only triumph was once again against Marshall. It was asserted that
the Cuban said he would not play to win his games in the last cycle against Alekhine, Nim-
Promoting a drink. In Diario de la Marina (March 24, 1927, page 2) this unusual advertisement
appeared, in which Capablanca promotes the sale of Tropical beer. It seems the idea was not to
the liking of the world champion, who considered it against his principles and the tone of the
1925 letter to his son, in which he advised him not to drink. The ad was withdrawn after appearing
just one time.
New York 1927

1 2 3 4 5 6
1 Capablanca, José Raúl • 1-½-½-½ 1-½-1-½ ½-½-1-½ ½-½-1-½ 1-1-½-1 14
2 Alekhine, Alexander 0-½-½-½ • ½-0-1-½ ½-½-½-½ 1-½-½-1 ½-1-½-1 111⁄2
3 Nimzowitsch, Aron 0-½-0-½ ½-1-0-½ • 1-0-0-½ 1-1-½-½ 1-½-½-1 101⁄2
4 Vidmar, Milan ½-½-0-½ ½-½-½-½ 0-1-1-½ • ½-½-½-½ ½-0-1-½ 10
5 Spielmann, Rudolf ½-½-0-½ 0-½-½-0 0-0-½-½ ½-½-½-½ • ½-½-1-½ 8
6 Marshall, Frank James 0-0-½-0 ½-0-½-0 0-½-½-0 ½-1-0-½ ½-½-0-½ • 6
zowitsch and Vidmar, so as not to interfere with

the fight for second place. There is a well-known
anecdote about his game against Nimzowitsch in
round 19. According to it, Capablanca was obliged
to tell the Latvian Dane, or send him a message
via the referee, that if he committed another mis-
take, he would be forced to win the game. But it
did not happen in such a colorful way. Simply put,
Capablanca did not play to win against any of the
three above-mentioned players, as the Cuban rec-
ognized in his articles for the New York Times on
March 27, in order to not hurt their chances for
second place.18 When the tournament ended,
Capablanca was first with a total of 14 points, 2½
more than Alekhine, who ended in second place
with 11½. Nimzowitsch was third with 10½.
After the competition, Hermann Helms
wrote a comprehensive chronicle of the Cuban in
the March 27 issue of the Sunday weekly the New
York World. Here are some excerpts:
Friday night Capablanca was the lion of the hour.
At the big dinner, which closed the masters’ tour-
nament, he appeared at his best. The light of tri-
umph gleamed in his eye. And small wonder.
Three prizes fell into his lap. One was cold cash—
a check for $2,000 [about $27,000 in 2015]. There
was a smaller check—a special prize. He gathered
in also a silver cup for playing the game that
showed the classiest strategy. Once more he was
the cynosure of all eyes. For him it was a Roman
holiday.…
Another similar advertisement but more benign,

about the consumption of malt, a non-alcoholic (or
with very little alcohol) beverage, also appeared just
once in Diario de la Marina, March 25, page 3, with
the suggestive title: “Thus you will always win!” Fol-
lowing that was the supplementary text: “Drink Tri-
malta and you will also gain in health and vigor”
(author’s collection).
The writer met the champion later for an interview. “What! Talk about chess?” he exclaimed.
“Have not I talked myself tired a score of times before? A questionnaire? Draft the thing; we’ll
go ahead.”
“What progress has chess made in the last 30 years?” he was asked.
“Nothing doing,” he replied, “I thoroughly covered that subject and many others in an article
I have sent to Montevideo. That’s not in the phone book? Cannot help it. Try it by radio.”
The chess champion was becoming fidgety. In a few hours he would be leaving for Phila-
delphia. In between he must get some sleep. In chess there is no player-writer rule. With rare
exceptions, most all of them do it. “Capa” is no exception. But he should write a little nearer
home.
“What about Dr. Lasker,” he repeated a query.
“Entirely taboo. Has not the public been surfeited with that already? Leave me out of it,
please.”
“Did not Bogoljubow recently allege that all the masters have learned your style and are no
longer afraid of it?”
“That’s his opinion; he’s entitled to it. If he is keen for a title match let him speak up. I may
have something to say to him on that score alone.”
“What about the match with Dr. Alekhine?”
“That awaits confirmation from Buenos Aires. The doctor and I are agreed. We may start in
September.”
“There are so many drawn games nowadays. Especially this is so between grand masters.
What’s the remedy? A faster time limit?”
“That’s all nonsense.” (A favorite expression with the champion.) “Those who know good
chess will not complain. Faster chess means poorer chess. I’m not in that business. Leave that to
the duds.”
“You have played much rapid-transit chess in your time. Was it helpful or otherwise?”
“Yes and no. You cannot do too much of it.”
“Whose contributions to chess literature do you consider the best?”
“Those of Dr. Tarrasch and Schlechter. Edward Lasker, too, has done his bit.”
Capablanca seemed to forget he was an author.
My Chess Career and Chess Fundamentals stand to his credit. He also published a booklet on
the match with Dr. Lasker. Before the year is out there’ll be another title page bearing his name.
“As to chess in America, how do we stand here?” was the next question.
“You need more tournaments. Give the young fellows a chance to show what they can do.
Marshall and I cannot last forever.”
“Last, but not least, what is the best way to improve?”
“There is only one recipe. First of all there must be the willingness to study. Secondly, practice
diligently and make it a point to meet stronger opponents. If that does not work, give it up. Be
content to be a wood shifter. That, too, has its joys and compensations.”
A friend passed through the foyer of the hotel. He caught the champion’s eye. “That’ll be
about enough for tonight. I must go.”
On his way to the Florida Keys, Capablanca offered simultaneous displays on March
22 in New York City, and four days later in Philadelphia, without losing in a total of 45
games. In New York, the exhibition took place in the headquarters of the Spanish-language
newspaper La Prensa, which had reserved a room for a chess club to which its founders gave
the name Filidor. The newspaper started publication in 1912, as the number of Hispanics
in the city was remarkable at that time.19
The shuttle20 Governor Cobb sighted the fuzzy silhouette of the fortress of El Morro
Lighthouse shortly after noon on Thursday, March 31. Before it did the usual maneuver of
turning to starboard to stand opposite the entrance of the Havana Bay, dozens of fireworks
escorted the ship. When it passed ahead of the small fortress of the esplanade, the passengers
saw hundreds of people waving their handkerchiefs and hats in greeting, and a noisy caravan
of cars followed the course of the ship while it searched for its usual place of mooring in the
“Arsenal Dock.” The tourists were astonished, perhaps believing that all the excitement was
due to them. Later the surprise must have been greater, because while the ship pulled its
ropes, a large band began to play without a break and thousands of people who crammed
around the Customs Office could not stop shouting loudly. The entertainment was actually
not for the visitors but for a special passenger on the ship, José Raúl Capablanca, who was
received as a true folk hero, as reported by the news in the evening newspapers of the city
and next day in the morning papers.
The international news agencies also echoed the clamor in the port:
Havana, March 31. (Associated Press)—José Raúl Capablanca, returning home today after win-
ning the chess master tournament of New York, received a rousing reception this afternoon.
Traffic was blocked for an hour while several thousand persons who greeted the world’s chess
champion set off aerial bombs and played music. Capablanca, who is an all around athlete, met
baseball men, fencers and other athletes on the official reception committee. At one time he
wanted to be a baseball pitcher, and he is also recognized as a good fencer.21
On that afternoon of March 31, 1927, Capablanca had the largest reception he would
ever receive. He was far from imagining that this was the time of his greatest glory.
13. The World Chess
Championship, 1927
As soon as the ship left the Morro Castle behind, it set its course northeast. A few miles
from Havana, the water lost its marine blue color to become deeply dark and bubbly. Some-
times the ship dragged remains of vegetation. When Capablanca met for the first time with
the mighty impetus of the Gulf Stream in 1904, he was impressed by the spectacle of a river
in a sea. Its flow would help the boat Siboney to cover the 1,314 nautical miles to New York
in three days, several hours less than the journey in the opposite direction.
July was a good month for traveling by boat, without the worries of high winds that
shake vessels from late November until the end of March; or the dangerous Northeast storms,
whose large waves pushed the boats to the shores of North America from Newfoundland to
South Carolina. Most of the passengers on the Siboney were tourists returning to New York.
Quite a few of them had been to Havana to escape Prohibition in the United States. The
ship itself had its whiff of impurity. On more than one occasion it had clashes with the U.S.
Customs agents, who searched its interiors looking for contraband alcohol. In 1922, for
example, they found a major load of illicit alcohol hidden in false panels. However, this time
the voyage lacked irregularities and there was no thorough searching when it docked, so the
four members of the Capablanca family landed smoothly in Manhattan on July 19.
The Capablancas were on vacation in New York for more than a week, staying at the
Hotel Alamac. Gloria returned with the children to Havana on July 27. Three days later,
Capablanca boarded the ship Western World bound for Brazil, in the first stage of his journey
to Buenos Aires. The world champion had no reason to doubt future good results. The
beginning of 1927 had been propitious to him, when he won outright the New York tour-
nament during February and March. With this victory the Cuban succeeded in making
everybody forget his bad times in New York in 1924 and Moscow in 1925. His record as
King of Chess recovered its dazzle, as when after his debut as champion, he won the tour-
nament in London, 1922. In six years, Capablanca competed in four first-level events, winning
two, finishing second in one and third in the remaining one, with a total of 38 wins, 3 losses
and 34 draws in 75 games, for an average of 73.33 percent.1
And following his victory at New York in 1927, Capablanca was reinstated to the diplo-
matic service by then Cuban President Gerardo Machado, who at the time enjoyed a hon-
eymoon with the people, the press and the turbulent political world of the island. As a
candidate for the presidency, Machado promised that the doors of the presidential palace
in Havana would be open to all. At least this was true for Capablanca, who visited him in
322
Capablanca in a family photograph after his return from the New York tournament in 1927—
with his wife Gloria Simoni Betancourt, José Raúl, Jr., and Gloría de los Angeles on Capablanca’s
arm (courtesy of Mercedes Capablanca).
the company of Secretary of Justice José María Barraqué, a complex man for whom the death
penalty was the ideal solution against serious crimes. Barraqué was famous for his phrase
that to the pleasure of forgiveness, he preferred the bitterness of not granting it. Machado
appointed Capablanca as government spokesman outside the island, with the official title
of Head of Information and Propaganda of the Government of Cuba Abroad. This was a
post of a political nature for which a presidential decree was enough. The world champion
departed in that function to New York on July 16, although he had not yet been sworn in.
Machado did not sign the decree until September 20, 1927; the annual salary for the post
was 4,800 pesos (about $64,000 in 2015).2
In one of the few known statements of Capablanca outside the world of chess, in this
case as a spokesperson of the Cuban government, he told the New York Times, in an article
headlined “President Machado Is Praised for Progress of Republic in Three Years of Admin-
istration,” the purposes of the new president of the island, who by then had not yet mentioned
his ambitions for a reelection.3 Capablanca added that the wishes of the president to extend
his term from four to six years had the intention of reducing political tensions. “No President
could carry out his administrative program in four years, so the only alternative was to seek
reelection, which needed political by-play in office, or to extend the term.” In the end,
Machado not only extended his term, but he also was reelected, which led to the unpopularity
of his government and its fall on August 12, 1933.
Before Capablanca departed to Buenos Aires from New York, there had been another
stalemate in his contacts with Lizardo Molina Carranza, president of the Argentine Chess
Club. Fearful that the South Americans would cease in their efforts to organize the match,
the Cuban forced them to seek a solution when he embarked without having reached agree-
ment with the Argentine Chess Club board members. The following letter was written
aboard the ship Western World, under the shipping company Holt & Munson’s letterhead:
July 30, 1927
Mr. Lizardo Molina Carranza.
Buenos Aires.
My dear friend:
Although without hearing from you, I decided to embark [italics added] to B.A. hoping that
any difficulty that might have arisen will be easily resolved once I arrive.
I hope to stay two weeks in Brazil and take the next boat of this company [to Buenos Aires].
I would appreciate it if you would send for me a telegram to Sao [sic] Paolo, to the Automo-
bile Club as soon as you receive this letter. Please retain the one thousand five hundred dollars
[more than $20,000 in 2015] for my travel expenses there until I arrive.
Hoping to have the pleasure of seeing you soon, at your service,
Yours truly,
J.R. Capablanca
[on the back] P.S. I guess Dr. Alekhine is in direct communication with you and will arrive more
or less about the same date as I, so that the match could start in the first week of September.
Capablanca [Argentine Chess Club Archive].
Molina Carranza had previously received a telegram from Capablanca, with the infor-
mation that he would embark from New York on July 30. This correspondence changes the
perception that the issue of the funds of the championship was definitely solved long before
the start of the match. At the same time it leads one to think that with his attitude, Capa-
blanca had much to do with the fact that the match was finally held, when he embarked for
Argentina without having received the money, or confirmation, for his travel.
In addition to this letter and a previous one from Havana dated on June 2, in which
the Cuban showed considerable concern because of the uncertainty regarding the progress
of the efforts to hold the World Championship, Capablanca had already mentioned his wor-
ries in a letter of June 5 to Molina Carranza.
Union Club, Havana / June 5/927
Mr. Lizardo Molina Carranza / Buenos Aires.
My dear friend.
Days ago I wrote to you immediately after sending you a cablegram. I do not see anything that
could impede the match except your desire of retiring from what has been agreed [italics added] and
I cannot believe that that is your intention. All the essentials have already been decided in
advance, as the letters in my possession prove.
Dr. Alekhine and I agree on everything related to the match and if there were some details to
fix, they could be easily solved before the beginning.
I want to be in Buenos Aires on August 20 or 21, this is to say, ten days before the beginning,
in order to prepare my life there for the contest I must carry out. I should be grateful then if you
would wire me the amount of my fees or travel expenses, as we have agreed, to depart from New
York in the steamer most favorable to the realization of my plans. As you know, the match
should begin the 1st of Sept, but if you need to delay it a couple of days there will be no problem
in this. If you would like to retire from the match [italics added], my letter of two or three days
ago clearly told you the compensation that I expect from you.
Regards to my friends and remaining at your service, your affectionate,
J.R. Capablanca.
My address: American Chess Bulletin, 150 Nassau St. NY. Telegraphic address: Chess, New York
[Argentine Chess Club Archive].
On July 14 of 1927, this letter was registered as document number 12 of the Argentine
Chess Club archives of the match for the World Championship of 1927. Apparently, Alekhine
was also lacking contact with Molina Carranza, but Capablanca kept him informed of
the situation. Therefore, the Russian master possibly had the same doubts about the
realization of the match, and he wrote to Capablanca asking his advice on what to do. Capa-
blanca advised him to continue demanding that the preparations continue and the match
be played.4
Months before, another communication from Capablanca to Molina Carranza, also
signed by Alekhine, from New York on March 29 (Document number 14 of the archives of
the match), showed the desires of the Cuban to formalize the preparations for the event and
to facilitate some of the procedures. The letter said in one of its paragraphs: “Please keep in
mind that the five hundred dollars [almost $7,000 in 2015] of the challenger and the three
thousand [$40,000] of the Club must be deposited with the Treasurer of the match Mr.
Ricardo ILLA [Rolando Illa’s brother] before June 1st. The other five hundred of the chal-
lenger, as well as the five hundred of the champion, we agreed to leave out of consideration
because we understand that they are not necessary in our case” [italics added].
The last of Alekhine’s worries disappeared when he received Capablanca’s telegram
informing him that he was on his way to Buenos Aires. On August 6, Alekhine demanded
of Molina Carranza the urgent delivery of $1,500 (about $20,000) for his passage and
expenses, the same figure agreed to by Capablanca. Despite his insistence, the wire trans-
fer did not reach Paris until the second week of August. The late departure of Alekhine in
the ship Massilia, from Bordeaux, France, on August 18, as a result of his not having received
money for his passage, forced them to postpone the start of the match at least until mid–
September.
In Brazil, Capablanca gave three sessions of regular simultaneous playing and two others
with clocks, with an overall result of 86 victories, 2 losses and 2 draws. His demonstration
of August 27 was unique, with 10 victories in a timed simultaneous display against several
of the best players in the country. The world champion re-embarked from São Paulo in the
ship American Legion, which arrived at the river port of Buenos Aires on August 30, after
a stay of several hours in Montevideo. The weekly El Gráfico (September 6, 1927) published
a good descriptive vignette of the Cuban after 13 years of absence from the Argentinian cap-
ital city: “The Capablanca that fortune returns today to us has a few pounds more, combs
the first gray hairs, is married, has two sons, plays tennis, uses a jacket, is upset with his pop-
ularity, but has also found all kind of satisfactions, moral and material, of the man who
enjoys a prominent position in the world.”5
As expected, the championship sparked a huge passion in Argentina. The radio stations
S.O.O. and L.O.R. signed contracts to regularly provide reports on the match. Radio Prieto
bought the rights to transmit the games as they developed and also got Capablanca to
give a lecture every week. The newspaper Crítica hired him to write a daily report about
the match, which was preceded by a series of articles by the Cuban on the history of the
leading chess players. These contents enrich significantly what Capablanca wrote about the
history of chess and its predecessors. Knowing that the informative exchange between
Argentina and Uruguay was close and continuous, the world champion took care in expand-
ing what was published in May of that same year in the Uruguayan chess magazine Mundial
(World). Those articles, never before published in English, are included in Appendix I of
this book.6
On Thursday, September 14, the opening ceremony of the World Championship was
held in the new premises of the Argentine Chess Club, at 449 Pellegrini Street, in one of
the most important intersections of Buenos Aires. The institution made every effort to have
the activity memorable for the 200 people who were invited.7 Marcelo Torcuato de Alvear,
president of Argentina, conducted the drawing of lots for the color of the pieces in the first
game of the match, with the result that Capablanca would play with White. Both rivals were
careful in their forecasts, especially Alekhine, whom the reporters tried to catch with ques-
tions about his future plans “once he was world champion.” The Slavic master responded in
a humorous but sensible way: “Just a minute. I don’t usually sell the skin of the bear before
killing it.” Attendees at the opening ceremony noticed that the challenger had quit smoking
cigarettes, whereas on his visit to Argentina the year before he smoked one after another. In
addition, he had become a teetotaler, while in 1926 “he willingly accepted any spirits, and
repeated the dose without any inconvenience,” as Paulino Alles Monasterio wrote (page 35)
in his book Match por el Campeonato Mundial 1927.
According to Alles Monasterio, when Alekhine arrived in Buenos Aires on September
7, it had been about a month since the challenger had been granted his citizenship in France.
However, the historians Vlastimil Fiala and Jan Kalendovský (Complete Games of Alekhine,
Volume Three 1925–1927, 1996) say that it was not until November 5, 1927, that the chal-
lenger obtained his French nationality. Those present at the opening ceremony of the match
also noted that the challenger was accompanied by his wife, Nadezhda Fabritzky, widow of
Capablanca and the Chilean prodigy Rodrigo Flores before the beginning of the 1927 match for
the World Chess Championship. The picture was published in Crítica September 16, 1927. During
the match there was no access for photographers (author’s collection).
the czarist general V. Vassiliev. In addition, they saw that she was several years older than
her husband. According to different versions, including the one appearing in the book Le
Guide des Échecs (Paris, 1993), she was an energetic and ambitious woman, who infused
Alekhine with the confidence that he could beat the man who was considered the favorite
son of Caissa. But the journalists who received Alekhine in the north port dock on September
7 did not notice it, describing her as timid and fearful of responding to questions. At least
they drew out a phrase about the rival of her husband, whom she had met during the New
York 1927 tournament. Nadezhda stated that Capablanca was a “kind and perfect gentleman.”
The issue that one of the opponents came to Buenos Aires with his wife and the other
did not, was little mentioned then, as once the games started, they eclipsed the remaining
aspects of the contest. The newspaper Crítica was, in an interview with Alekhine made
on September 7, one of the few that tried the family side of the two rivals: “It’s interesting
that you bring your wife to accompany you during your stay in Buenos Aires, while Capa-
blanca has not only come alone, but when questioned by us about whether he brought his
family, he responded to us with a categorical and Cuban: ‘No way, my friend!’” Alekhine
answered: “Ah, non. Je ne peu pas jouer sans ma femme” (“Oh no, I cannot play without my
wife”).
In one of his numerous articles about Capablanca, the historian Edward Winter cites
two divergent versions on the habits of the Cuban. In one of them, Edward Lasker stated
that Capablanca used to go to bed very late at night; he would go to have breakfast when
all were lunching. In the other, it was said that he went to bed early and got up at dawn. The
apparent contradiction is resolved when it is known that the one who said the latter was
Olga Chagodaef, the Cuban’s second wife. So it is natural to assume that the presence in
Buenos Aires of Capablanca’s wife, Gloria Simoni, would had prevented the nightlife of the
champion and would have forced him to a home life, such as that mentioned by Olga. How-
ever, with two small children to attend, it was difficult for Gloria to accompany her husband
for such an extended period of time.
On several occasions, Alekhine commented that in Buenos Aires the public favored
Capablanca, which apparently was true. But he did not say that the journalists of the main
newspapers in the Argentinian capital city were on his side. Although he hinted at it in his
book Auf dem Wege zur Weltmeisterschaft 1923–27 (On the Road to the World Chess Cham-
pionship, 1932) when he wrote: “I also remember with gratitude the objective approach of
the Argentinian press and its reporters, namely C. [Roberto Gabriel] Grau in La Nación,
A. [Arnoldo] Ellerman in La Prensa, C. [Carlos] Portela in La Razón and C. Celaja [Amílcar
Celaya] in La Crítica [sic].”
Some of these chroniclers did not conceal their support for Alekhine. A clear example
took place in the edition of September 14 of Crítica. That day Celaya published an open
attack in the form of a controversy between two opinions for and against the contenders,
“each from a prestigious Argentine amateur.” Celaya did not give the names of the fans, “as one
and the other have asked us to employ rigorous reserve about their names.” The title already
hinted at the content of the text: “Latin-Tropical Race Is Very Precocious but Declines Soon.”
The kind of life that Capablanca leads is not the most appropriate to preserve the fullness of his
intellectual faculties, or to acquire the physical and mental state essential for a champion who
wants to defend his title. It is true that he is a non-smoker and hardly drinks, but I hope he will
forgive my indiscretion: Capablanca is an incorrigible partygoer. To go every night to play his
games of tute codillo [an Italian card game popularized later in Spain], very well; but after it is
over he could go to bed quietly for at least one day. Capablanca is the typical example of the
Creole loafer who avoids any serious effort. Will he have enough interest in the World Champi-
onship of chess as to put all his senses to preserve it? I’m afraid not.
It seems impossible that a World Chess Champion could live so far from everything related to
the chessboard: he spends years without playing, does not read a word about chess, does not
want to talk about it, knows nothing of the numerous and profound theoretical studies. Now he
plays tennis for training.8
In spite of this, most of the specialists were in favor of the champion before the start
of the match. For example, the Hungarian Géza Maróczy predicted Capablanca’s victory,
while the Austrian Rudolf Spielmann said that Alekhine would not win even a single game.
The Yugoslav Milan Vidmar said that “Alekhine hasn’t even the shadow of a chance.” The
German-Russian Efim Bogoljubow predicted that the final result would be 6–3 in favor of
the Cuban. Another of those who gave no chance of victory to Alekhine was the German
Siegbert Tarrasch, whom Grau interviewed during the first World Chess Olympiad, held in
London in July 1927, the text of which was published in La Nación, on September 15, 1927. “I
think Capablanca is currently unbeatable. There is no master who can withstand without
fainting the irreproachable technique of the champion ... the soundness of Capablanca’s
game will make impossible to the Slavic master any possibility of complications of which he
is so fond.” So convinced was Tarrasch of his judgment that he concluded the interview with
these words: “I don’t understand how a master of this time can expect to beat Capablanca.”
But among those who had their doubts about the triumph of the Cuban was the
Czechoslovakian Richard Réti. Grau also published in La Nación of Buenos Aires, on Sep-
tember 14, the opinion that Réti expressed about the world champion, also during the
Olympiad in London: “Capablanca has an apathetic temperament, he does not have further
ambitions and he is incapable of preparing himself intensely for a match of this kind, since
it is annoying for him to have to think. By dint of his natural talent he has arrived where he
is, but he does not love chess. He is admirably instinctive but lacks the energy to undertake
strict training.” Réti was not the only one who thought so. After the 1925 Moscow tourna-
ment, Lasker wrote about a decline in the capabilities of the Cuban. And Tartakower, in the
Hungarian Maggyar Sakkvillag magazine of April 1927, said that despite Capablanca’s victory
by 3½ points at New York 1927, the match for the World Championship should be celebrated
more than ever, since Alekhine had showed himself stronger than those who stayed after
him.
Surprisingly, a very interesting comment came several years before the match from the
champion’s own land, when his fellow countryman, Dr. José A. Gelabert, wrote in 1923:
“Alekhine baffles everyone with his school of brilliance that is very powerful when he faces
inferior players, but against a Capablanca or a Lasker it is necessary to battle in their own
school, and the triumph will be up to the more precise player.... He knows that Capablanca
is the utter perfection in this school (the modern school) and with his own weapons he aims
to snatch from him the world scepter.”9
It should also be mentioned that one of the most beautiful actresses of the theater in
Buenos Aires, the Spanish actress Gloria Guzmán, told Crítica that Capablanca had replaced
Rodolfo Valentino in her heart. And then the Cuban was seen very often in the company
of another famous local star, the actress and singer Consuelo Velázquez,10 and to top it all,
she was very easy to spot in the company of the world champion in her bright red Rambler
sports car, as Alles Monasterio described in his aforementioned book. Adventures of this
nature by Capablanca in the Argentinian capital city were subsequently the theme of a novel
with the suggestive title Perdido en Buenos Aires (Lost in Buenos Aires),11 in which the deeply
Bohemian environment of the city cast an influence over the protagonist.
It may be that the alleged relationship of Capablanca with Gloria Guzmán was pure
gossip, because the Cuban never reserved seats in the Theatre Sarmiento where she acted.
On the other hand, he acquired boxes in the Emerald (later called Maipo, for being in the
street of the same name); and in the Porteño, on Corrientes Street, which later ceased to
exist. “All it took was for Capablanca to appear in one of the boxes of these theaters and the
actors began making jokes alluding to the great match,” according to Alles Monasterio in
his book. Since Dr. Alfredo Colmo, one of the main breeders of thoroughbreds in Argentina,
christened one of his colts “Capablanca,” this was an additional pretext for the champion to
go frequently to the Buenos Aires racetrack. His rival also attended there sometimes, because
another owner of thoroughbreds named one of his “Alekhine.”
The attack in Crítica and picturesque statements about the actress Guzmán had a greater
impact when, in the inaugural game of the championship, contested on September 16, came
the first surprise: the defeat of Capablanca. This made many think that the comments about
the decline of the forces of the champion were not too far-fetched. Capablanca opened for
the first and last time in the match with the king’s pawn, which some took as a surprise.
Alekhine followed with the French Defense (1. ... e6), which some also regarded as the second
biggest surprise of the day. However, it is enough to see the Capablanca–Bogoljubow game
from the 22nd round in the New York 1924 tournament12 to understand his reasons. On
that occasion against Bogoljubow, Capablanca could not castle and had to fight all the time
This is one of the very few original images reuniting Capablanca and Alekhine face to face in a
posed shot, before the start of the 1927 match. It was published in Crítica, Buenos Aires, on Sep-
tember 16. Another photograph of them appeared in Crítica the day before, on September 15,
and was reproduced many years later, March 9, 1942, in the Crítica obituary of Capablanca.
Though it is a poor image, and probably retouched, it is of extraordinary historical value (author’s
collection).
to save the game. Besides, the last time that Capablanca and Alekhine clashed before the
match in Buenos Aires, in the final round of the tournament in New York in 1927, Alekhine
(Black) played a French Defense, although this certainly happened by transposition of moves.
Capablanca had previously lost two famous French Defenses: one against Eugene
Znosko-Borovsky (Black) in the series he played against him, Alekhine and Fyodor Dus-
Khotimirsky in Petersburg in 1913; and the other against Oscar Chajes (White), in the Rice
Chess Club Tournament in 1916, in his last defeat before the Cuban began the eight-year
period in which he did not lose a game. From the chess point of view, the game had a special
meaning, and not only because Capablanca had lost his status as unbeaten by Alekhine, but
because from the first moment it showed the huge difference in preparation between the
two players. While for Capablanca chess was a struggle over the board, for Alekhine it was
a bout before starting the game, over the board, and even after the encounter was finished.
For this reason, no one must have felt surprised that the Cuban did not develop a plan of
technical training, except, according to his own words, to keep himself in good health and
physically ready.
In his comments about the Capablanca–Alekhine match (which appeared in the CD
World Champion Capablanca, 2005), the German grandmaster Robert Hübner extended
himself through two paragraphs to analyze the way in which Alekhine prepared for the
match. Mentioning the Cuban’s pre-game behavior, he wrote, “There is nothing I am able
to say about Capablanca’s preparation.” We should add that other Argentine commentators,
in particular Grau, mentioned that Capablanca consumed a lot of time in the following
games, solving problems in theoretical positions of the opening. Grau said that on many
occasions Capablanca reached the middle game unnecessarily exhausted, because of his lack
of preparation. However the Cuban consumed more thinking time than his rival in only
two games, one of them, the last, by a wide margin.
Capablanca–Alexander A. Alekhine [C01]

World Championship, 1st Game,
Buenos Aires, 16 September 1927
1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e×d5 e×d5 5. Bd3 Nc6 6. Nge2 Nge7 7. 0–0 Bf5
8. B×f5 N×f5 9. Qd3 Qd7 10. Nd1 “Capablanca is probably acting on terrain unknown to
him. This move cost the champion about 40 minutes of analysis, an unusual fact given that
he is the fastest of all existing masters. In the congestion of the face of Capa, in the apparent
efforts to clear his brain, a sluggishness and mental drowsiness was noted, which alarmed
everyone. The prolonged wait [for his tenth move] of the people following the game on the
lower floor was the first [alarming] indication to the many supporters of the champion [that
something was wrong]” (Celaya, in Crítica). 10. ... 0–0 11. Ne3 N×e3 12. B×e3 Rfe8 13. Nf4
Better is 13. Ng3 with an even game (Euwe). Or: 13. Bf4 Re4 14. c3 Bd6 15. B×d6 Q×d6
16. Ng3 with an even game (Alekhine). 13. ... Bd6 14. Rfe1 According to Celaya, the Cuban
was very doubtful of this move, as he put his hand over this rook several times, without
touching it. If 14. N×d5 B×h2+ 15. K×h2 Q×d5 16. c4 Qh5+ 17. Kg1 Rad8 18. d5 Ne5
19. Qc3 Nf3+ (if 19. ... Rd6 20. Bf4 with an even game) 20. g×f3 Rd6 21. Rfd1 f5 22. Kf1
Q×f3 with the threat ... f4. 14. ... Nb4 15. Qb3 Qf5 16. Rac1? (see diagram)
Better is 16. Nd3 (Capablanca). For example: 16. ... N×d3
17. Q×d3 Q×d3 18. c×d3 Bb4 19. Rec1 c6 20. Kf1 although Black rDwDrDkD
has a better endgame. 16. ... N×c2 Also strong was 16. ... a5 17. c3 0p0wDp0p
a4 18. Qd1 N×a2 19. Ra1 B×f4 20. B×f4 R×e1+ 21. Q×e1 Q×f4 wDwgwDwD
with a winning position. 17. R×c2 Q×f4! 18. g3 Qf5 19. Rce2 DwDpDqDw
b6 20. Qb5 h5 21. h4 Re4 22. Bd2! If 22. a3 R×h4 23. Rd1 (if whw)wHwD
23. g×h4 Qg4+ 24. Kh1 Qh3+ 25. Kg1 Qh2+ 26. Kf1 Qh1 DQDwGwDw
mate) 23. ... Qh3 winning. 22. ... R×d4 23. Bc3 Rd3 Stronger P)PDw)P)
is 23. … Rg4! (Nikonov, Shakhmaty v SSSR, Number 6, 1986). Dw$w$wIw
24. Be5 Rd8 Better is 24. … Bc5! (Nikonov). 25. B×d6 R×d6 After 16. Rac1
26. Re5 Qf3 27. R×h5 Q×h5 28. Re8+ Kh7 29. Q×d3+ Qg6
30. Qd1 Re6 Better is 30. ... d4 31. Qf3 Rf6 32. Qa8 Qf5 33. Qe4 c5 34. Kf1 Q×e4 35. R×e4
Re6 with a winning position. 31. Ra8 Re5 Better is 31. ... d4 32. R×a7 (if 32. Q×d4 Re1+
33. Kh2 Qc6 winning.) 32. ... c5 with a winning position (Averbach). 32. R×a7 c5 33. Rd7
Better is 33. Qf3 Rf5 34. Qd3 d4 35. b3 with only a small advantage for Black (Khalifman).
33. ... Qe6 34. Qd3+ g6 35. Rd8 d4 36. a4 Re1+ Quicker was 36. ... Qe7 37. Rb8 Qc7
38. Qb3 (If 38. Rf8 Kg7 39. Ra8 Re1+ 40. Kh2 Qc6 winning [Tartakower]). 38. ... Re6
39. Ra8 Qb7 winning (Alekhine). 37. Kg2 Qc6+ 38. f3 Re3 39. Qd1 Qe6 40. g4 Re2+
41. Kh3 Qe3 42. Qh1 Qf4 43. h5 Rf2 White resigned. 0–1.
After Capablanca sealed his move in a totally lost position, he was unwilling to take to
the streets, although the public congregated there cheered him despite his poor performance.
“It doesn’t matter that he has lost, we applaud him because he is the champion,” explained
several who were waiting for the Cuban. According to Celaya’s chronicle the following day
in Crítica, Capablanca waited until the street was cleared to leave the premises of the club.
Before departing, he said that he had not abandoned the game because that way he would
not have to start a new one the next day, as though he would come to the club for nothing
else except to give up. According to the rules of the match, two games could never be played
the same day. This would allow him to rest Saturday and Sunday and resume the combat on
Monday. Alekhine also used this resource, which was one of the reasons the contest extended
beyond the two months it was supposed it would last. Capablanca commented on the devel-
opment of the encounter for Crítica (September 17) in this way: “The fact is that since my
first match with Corzo for the Championship of Cuba, when I was only 12 years old, this
is the first time that my adversary has taken the lead in a match, which has at least the merit
of novelty.”
It was immediately said after his defeat in the first game that the champion was “out
of practice” or “rusty.” But this was nothing new in the history of world championships.
During the 1908 Lasker–Tarrasch match, comments appeared in the magazine Moskauer
Deutschen Zeitung, which was published in German in Moscow, that warned of the rusty
character that was observed in the games of the then champion: “This [his many bad posi-
tions against Tarrasch] shows that Lasker has considerably diminished in the last few years,
and as well that even a champion must take part industriously in international play like any
other or his mental mechanism will turn to rust.” However, it should be remembered that
Lasker won 10½–5½ on that occasion.
As the superstitious man he was, after the first game Capablanca ceased to write down
the games in English and began to do so in Spanish. Very few knew it, but the Cuban had
a chess pawn in one pocket of his trousers that was his good luck charm, as it was told years
later by Olga Chagodaef. His rival also found a talisman in Buenos Aires, a horseshoe that
he picked up in Suipacha Street, his usual path in 1927 to go from his hotel to the Argentine
Chess Club. “It was expecting me!” said a jubilant Alekhine to several of his friends of the
institution. After that, it was said that Alekhine preferred that route because his wife liked
the display windows with women’s fashion clothing, but it could also be because he found
the talisman there. (The anecdote was narrated by Paulino Alles Monasterio in his book
Match por el Título Mundial Capablanca-Alekhine, 1927, page 35.) In any case, the defeat of
the champion in the first game was compensated for in the third game, when Alekhine almost
played as badly as Capablanca had in the first.
Capablanca–Alexander A. Alekhine [A47]

World Championship, 3rd Game,
1. d4 Nf6 2. Nf3 b6 3. g3 Bb7 4. Bg2 c5 5. 0–0 c×d4 6. N×d4 B×g2 7. K×g2 d5
Better seems 7. … Qc8 8. Qd3 d5 9. Bg5 Nbd7 10. B×f6 N×f6 11. Nd2 e5 12. N4f3 e4
13. Qb5+ Qd7 14. Q×d7+ K×d7 with an even game. Hübner–Granda, Groningen
1993. 8. c4 e6 8. … Qd7 9. c×d5 N×d5 10. e4 Nc7 11. Nc3 (11. Bf4!?—Capablanca). 11. …
e5 12. Nf5 Q×d1 13. R×d1 Nba6 14. Be3 Rd8 15. R×d8+ K×d8 16. a4 (interesting is
16. Rd1+ Kc8 17. Bg5 f6 18. Be3 Nb4 19. f3 g6 20. Nd6+ B×d6 21. R×d6 with advantage)
16. … Kd7 17. Nb5 (if 17. a5 Kc6 18. Rc1 g6 19. Nh6 B×h6 20. B×h6 Nc5 21. Na4 N7a6
22. a×b6 a×b6 23. N×c5 b×c5 24. Bg7 Re8 with an even game) 17. … g6 18. Nh4 (18. Nh6!—
Capablanca) 18. … Bc5 19. N×a7? (if 19. B×c5 N×c5 20. Rd1+ Kc6 21. Rd6+ Kb7 22. Nf3
N×a4 23. Rd7 Kc6 24. R×c7+ K×b5 25. R×a7 f6 26. Rf7 N×b2 27. R×f6 Nc4 28. Re6 Rb8
29. Kf1 Kc5 30. Ke2 b5 31. N×e5 N×e5 32. R×e5+ Kc4 and the endgame should be drawn)
19. … B×e3 20. f×e3 Nc5 21. Nb5? (better is 21. Rd1+ Ke6 22. Nc6 N×a4 23. Nd8+ Ke7
24. Nc6+ Ke6 and draw) 21. … N×b5 22. a×b5 Ke6 (or 22. … N×e4 23. Ra7+ Ke6 24. Rb7
Rc8 25. R×b6+ Kd5 26. Rc6 Rb8 27. Rc2 R×b5 and Black is better) 23. Kf3 Rd8 with a
much better position. Ilyin-Zhenevsky and I. Rabinovich (in consultation)–Capablanca,
Leningrad 1936. The game ended 24. b4 Nb3 25. Ra7 Nd2+ 26. Kg2 N×e4 (with a winning
position) 27. Nf3 Rd5 28. Ra8 R×b5 29. Re8+ Kf6 30. g4 Ng5 31. N×g5 K×g5 32. Kg3 Kf6
33. Rc8 R×b4 34. Rc6+ Kg7 35. g5 h5 36. Rc8 Rg4+ 37. Kh3 Re4 38. Rc3 b5 (0–1) 9. Qa4+!
Qd7 If 9. … Nbd7 10. c×d5 N×d5 11. e4 N5f6 12. Bg5 Be7 13. Nc3 a6 14. Nc6 with an
almost winning position. 10. Nb5 Nc6 11. c×d5 e×d5 If 11. … N×d5 12. e4 Nf6 13. Bf4 Rc8
14. N1c3 with a big advantage. 12. Bf4 Rc8 13. Rc1 Bc5 If 13. … Nh5 14. Be3 Be7 15. Nd4
Bf6 16. R×c6 R×c6 17. N×c6 B×b2 18. Bd4 B×a1 19. B×a1 with a winning position (see
diagram)
14. b4! B×b4 15. R×c6 R×c6 16. Q×b4 Ne4 17. Nd2
N×d2 18. Q×d2 0–0 19. Rd1 Interesting was 19. e4 Rc5 (if 19. … wDrDkDw4
Rd8 20. Rd1 Rc5 21. Nc3 d4 22. Nd5 with a winning position; 0wDqDp0p
for example: 22. … Qa4 23. Q×d4 Q×d4 24. R×d4 winning) w0nDwhwD
20. Nc3 d4 21. Nd5 f5 22. Q×d4 Qe6 23. Be3 Re8 24. Rd1 f×e4 DNgpDwDw
25. Qd2 with a winning position. 19. … Rc5 20. Nd4 Re8 QDwDwGwD
21. Nb3 Rcc8 22. e3 Qa4 23. Q×d5 Rc2 24. Rd2 R×a2 DwDwDw)w
25. R×a2 Q×a2 26. Qc6 Rf8 27. Nd4 Kh8 A better defense is P)wDP)K)
$N$wDwDw
27. … Rd8 28. e4 h6 29. Be5 Qd2 30. Nf5 Qd7 31. N×h6+ Kh7
32. Q×d7 R×d7 33. Nf5 f6. 28. Be5! (with a winning position) After 13. … Bc5
28. … f6 29. Ne6 Rg8 30. Bd4 h6 31. h4 Or 31. N×g7 R×g7
32. Q×f6 Qd5+ 33. Kg1 Qg5 34. Qf8+ Kh7 35. e4 Qe7 36. B×g7 Q×g7 37. Qf5+ Qg6
38. Qd5 with a winning but difficult ending. 31. … Qb1 32. N×g7! Qg6 If 32. … R×g7
33. Q×f6 Qe4+ 34. Kg1 Qb7 35. Q×h6+ Kg8 36. Q×g7+ Q×g7 37. B×g7 K×g7 38. Kf1
winning. 33. h5 Qf7 34. Nf5 Kh7 35. Qe4 Re8 36. Qf4 “It is curious to note that although
we had foreseen this situation at move 21, calculating that 36. Qd3 was the strongest move,
at the last minute we nonetheless forgot out earlier calculations and played the text move,
which in some ways is not as strong as the other one” (Capablanca). 36. … Qf8 37. Nd6
Re7 If 37. … Rd8 38. B×f6 Q×d6 39. Qf5+ Kg8 40. Qg6+ Kf8 41. Q×h6+ Ke8 42. Qh8+
winning. 38. B×f6 Qa8+ 39. e4 Rg7 40. B×g7 K×g7 41. Nf5+ Kf7 42. Qc7+ Black
resigned. 1–0.
Despite his victory it is important to observe that for the first time in the match, Capa-
blanca mentioned that he forgot his earlier calculation. After the third game the match offi-
cials, responding to a request from both opponents, decided that the event should be played
thereafter closed to all spectators. It may be that Alekhine was already suffering during the
third game from the toothache that caused him shortly afterwards an emergency interven-
tion. However, his ailments were not reported in the press when that game was played, or
during the fourth game, which began at the Jockey Club on Friday the 23rd and resumed
on Saturday the 24th.
When the fourth game was adjourned after White’s 41st move, the position was slightly
superior for Capablanca. The Cuban insisted on resuming the game, to the annoyance of
his rival, who later wrote that these last moves could have been saved. This indicates that at
least in this early phase of the match, Capablanca had the will to continue playing positions
where he kept a minimum advantage without a risk of losing. Meanwhile, Alekhine said that
although he had White and he could not win, it was always beneficial for him to play as
many games as possible against the Cuban “to know him better,” because despite the many
years in which they had mutually competed, there were very few games played against each
other. During the resumption of the fourth game, which was a draw after nine more moves,
Alekhine’s dental discomfort was not evident either.
But on Sunday, a free day, they had to take the Slavic master urgently to the dental cab-
inet of Dr. José Dueñas at 10:00 p.m. “as a result of a toothache that arose in the lower jaw”
(Alles Monasterio). The next day, Alekhine took one of his sick days off. His infection was
of such magnitude that he required another extra session to extract more teeth, six in total,
as Alekhine informed later.
After the fifth game, played on Tuesday the 27th, Capablanca said: “I think Alekhine
has escaped me” (Crítica, September 28).
Capablanca–Alexander A. Alekhine [D51]

World Championship, 5th Game,
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3 c6 6. a3 Be7 7. Nf3 0–0 8. Bd3 d×c4
9. B×c4 Nd5 10. B×e7 Q×e7 11. Rc1 N×c3 12. R×c3 e5 13. d×e5 N×e5 14. N×e5 Q×e5
15. 0–0 Be6 16. B×e6 Q×e6 17. Rd3 Qf6 18. Qb3 Qe7 19. Rfd1 Rad8 20. h3 R×d3
21. R×d3 g6 22. Qd1 Qe5 23. Qd2 a5 24. Rd7 b5 25. Qc3 Q×c3 26. b×c3 Rc8 27. Kf1
Kg7 28. Ra7 a4 (see diagram)
29. c4 This is the kind of position with a clear strategic plan
wDrDwDwD to follow, that Capablanca explained in the following way: “I
$wDwDpip think that if at that time I would have continued with 29. Ke2,
wDpDwDpD instead of 29. c4, followed by Kf3 and e4, I not only had pre-
DpDwDwDw vented the passage of the Black king, but also would have secured
pDwDwDwD a clearly superior game and the best possibilities.” This view
)w)w)wDP was later supported by another world champion, Vasily Smyslov,
wDwDw)PD in Teoria Ladienykh Okonchanii (Fizkultura, Moscow, 1957; in
DwDwDKDw
English, it was titled Rook Endings). In this work, written jointly
After 28. … a4 with Grigory Levenfish, the authors called this plan “widening
the bridgehead.” 29. … Kf6! With an even game. 30. Ra5 Ke6
31. Ke2 b×c4! If 31. … Kd6 32. Kd3 Kc5 33. c×b5 Kb6 34. R×a4 c×b5 35. Rb4 Ra8 36. Rb3
Kc5 37. e4 with advantage. 32. Rc5 Kd6 33. R×c4 Ra8 34. Rd4+ Ke6 35. Kd3 c5 Or 35. …
h5 36. Kc4 Ra5 37. Kb4 Rb5+ 38. K×a4 Rb2 39. Re4+ Kd5 40. Rf4 f5 with counterplay
(Smyslov). 36. Rh4 h5 37. g4 h×g4 38. R×g4 Kd6 39. Rf4 f5 40. Rh4 Kd5 41. Kc2 Ra6
42. Kc3 Draw. ½–½.
Capablanca was in an inferior position in the sixth game, but he managed to equalize
with an accurate defense. The seventh game has a history that precedes what took place on
the board. According to Alles Monasterio in his book of the match (pages 64–65), the origin
of the opening chosen by Alekhine was a magazine he received from Europe: “The evening
the champions were going to play the Fifth Game, Ellerman appeared early at the club, and
with a mysterious tone he asked me if Dr. Alekhine had arrived, to which I replied negatively.
Intrigued by the reserve and the tone of the question, I asked in my turn about what was
going on, until he told me that he had received a European chess magazine, with the assignment
to give it to Dr. Alekhine, and after requesting that I not make any comment, he left.…”
Alles Monasterio explained later that the magazine, the Yugoslav Šahovski glasnik (Chess
Journal), contained some analyses done by the Yugoslavians Vidmar and Vladimir Vuković,
and the Hungarian Lajos Asztalos, extending previous works of Bogoljubow and Tartakower
on the so-called Cambridge Springs Defense.
Before the beginning of this game, Celaya, covering with the help of Juan Carlos Portela
the championship for the evening paper Crítica, asked Capablanca if he planned any specific
opening for the game. The characteristic answer of the Cuban was: “No way. All openings
are the same!”

Buenos Aires, 1 October 1927
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Nf3 Nbd7 5. Bg5 c6 6. e3 Qa5 7. Nd2 Bb4 8. Qc2
0–0 9. Bh4 c5 If 9. … e5 10. d×e5 Ne4 11. Nd×e4 d×e4 12. e6 Ne5 13. e×f7+ R×f7 14 .0–
0–0 Bf5 15. a3 Nd3+ 16. B×d3 e×d3 17. a×b4 d×c2 18. b×a5 c×d1=Q+ 19. R×d1 with a
little White’s advantage. 10. Nb3 Qa4 If 10. … Qc7 11. Bg3 Qc6 12. d×c5 d×c4 13. B×c4
Q×g2 14. 0–0–0 N×c5 15. Rhg1 with White’s initiative; for example: 15. … Qh3 16. Be5
Ne8 17. N×c5 B×c5 18. Ne4 Be7 19. Rg3 Qh5 20. B×g7 N×g7 21. Rdg1 11. B×f6 N×f6
12. d×c5 Ne4 13. c×d5 Or 13. Bd3 B×c3+ (if 13. … d×c4 14. B×e4 c×b3 15. 0–0 b×c2
16. N×a4 Bd7 17. a3 Bd2 18. B×c2 Bb5 19. Rfd1 Rfd8 20. Nc3 B×c3 21. b×c3 with a small
White advantage) 14. b×c3 d×c4 15. B×e4 c×b3 16. B×h7+ Kh8 17. Qe4 Qa5 18. Qh4 g5
19. Qh6 Q×c3+ 20. Ke2 Qg7 21. Q×g7+ K×g7 22. Bd3 b×a2 23. R×a2 with an even game.
13. … B×c3+ Better is 13. … N×c5 14. Rc1 N×b3 (or 14. … Ne4 15. Bd3 e×d5 16. 0–0 B×c3
17. b×c3 Be6 with an even game) 15. a×b3 Qa5 16. Be2 e×d5 17. 0–0 Be6 with an even game.
14. b×c3 N×c5 15. Rd1! e×d5 16. R×d5 N×b3 17. a×b3 Qc6
18. Rd4 Re8 (see diagram) rDbDrDkD
19. Bd3! Q×g2 20. B×h7+ Kf8 21. Be4 Qh3 22. Qd2 Be6 0pDwDp0p
23. c4 a5 24. Rg1! Q×h2 25. Rh1 Or 25. Rg3 g6 26. Qb2 a4 wDqDwDwD
27. Qa3+ Kg7 28. b×a4 Qh5 29. c5 Rab8 30. Qd3 Q×c5 DwDwDwDw
31. B×g6 with a winning attack. 25. … Qc7 26. Qb2 Qc5 27. Bd5 wDw$wDwD
Ra6 28. Re4 Rd6 Better is 28. … Kg8 29. Rg1 Qf8 30. B×b7 DP)w)wDw
Rb6 31. Bd5 Reb8 32. B×e6 R×b3 33. B×f7+ Q×f7 34. Re8+ wDQDw)P)
R×e8 35. Q×b3 although White is better. 29. Rh7! Ke7 DwDwIBDR
30. Q×g7 Kd8 31. B×e6 f×e6 32. Q×b7 Qb4+ 33. Q×b4 a×b4 After 18. … Re8
34. c5 Rc6 35. R×b4 R×c5 36. Ra7 Black resigned. 1–0.
When the encounter ended with the triumph of the champion, the newspapers from
Buenos Aires agreed that it was a magnificent production. After this game, which put the
world champion for the first time in front on the scoreboard, the match officials added a
new statutory provision which allowed the loser to take a bye the next day, so that the defeat
would have the least possible influence on his mood.
The eighth game had an impact that lasted many years. Alekhine, with White, used
the old Frank Marshall move 7. Qc2 (After 1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 d5 4. Bg5 Nbd7 6. Nf3
0–0), although the American master employed it with the idea of castling long. The move,
made with the idea of castling short, was thoroughly analyzed by the Argentinian master
Damián M. Reca, who would later be joined by Luis Palau, Grau and Alles Monasterio in
the investigations. It was Alles Monasterio who revealed the story of what happened: “When
Alekhine came to Buenos Aires to contest the World Championship with Capablanca, Reca
introduced to him the studies with the move 7. Qc2. Alekhine praised the job done and said
that as a tribute to it and as a demonstration of his opinion of such analyses, he would play
this variant, which he estimated should be called the ‘Argentinian Variation,’ in his match
against Capablanca. And so he did when he played 7. Qc2 in the Eighth Game of the cham-
pionship.”13
As mentioned before, with the exception ofAlles Monasterio, the rest of the group of
analysts were more sympathetic to Alekhine (the “alekhinist”) than to Capablanca. According
to Argentine chess historian Juan S. Morgado, together with their preferences for the way
in which the Slav interpreted chess, all of them were also part of the Círculo de Ajedrez
(Chess Circle), whose members were distanced from the Argentine Chess Club, where most
were “capablanquists.” According to Alles Monasterio, those same people approached the
Cuban to inform him about their studies. But the world champion, “for whom it was not
customary to prepare for tournaments or matches, responded that it was not advisable to
study when you were already facing the test, and that he used the lines of play that the
position dictated to him.”14
This exchange of theoretical information between Reca, Palau and Grau with Alekhine,
involving perhaps analyses of adjourned games, was later described in a derogatory manner
as cheap help by Capablanca, which Alekhine took as a personal offense. Apparently, the
intention of the Cuban was to taunt the group of “alekhinists,” not his rival. At least that
was how the remark was interpreted in Buenos Aires for many years and is still the view of
Morgado. In two of the games of the match (eighth and tenth) Alekhine played 7. Qc2. Both
ended tied, so the Russian master did not use it again, because according to him, “It doesn’t
give more than a draw.”
Years later, the Czechoslovakian master Salo Flohr said that the variation allowed White
to play for a win without risking too much, as he showed in his victory against Vidmar in
Nottingham 1936. More recently, the Norwegian Magnus Carlsen adopted the variation
with a slight transposition of moves in the 2007–2008 Bundesliga against the German-Rus-
sian Artur Yusupov. But Black managed to even the game, which ended in a draw after 27 moves.
The next three games of the match were draws. Then came the eleventh game.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3 c6 6. Nf3 Qa5 7. Nd2 Bb4 8. Qc2
d×c4 9. B×f6 N×f6 10. N×c4 Qc7 11. a3 Be7 12. Be2 Capablanca improved with 12. g3
in the 29th game. 12. … 0–0 13. 0–0 Interesting is 13. b4 b6 14. 0–0 Bb7 15. Bf3 Rac8
16. Rfc1 Rfd8 17. Rab1 Ba8 18. h3 h6 19. Qb3 Qb8 20. Ne4 N×e4 21. B×e4 with White’s
advantage. Ribli–Smyslov, Las Palmas 1982. 13. … Bd7 14. b4 b6 15. Bf3 Better seems
15. Rfc1 c5 16. d×c5 b×c5 17. b5 with White advantage. 15. … Rac8 If 15. … a5 16. Ne5
a×b4 17. a×b4 (if 17. Nb5 Qc8 18. B×c6 b×a3 with an even game) 17. … R×a1 18. R×a1 Rc8
19. Qb2 Be8 with a little advantage for White. 16. Rfd1 Rfd8 17. Rac1 Be8 18. g3! Nd5
19. Nb2 Qb8 20. Nd3 Bg5 21. Rb1 Qb7 22. e4 N×c3 Interesting is 22. … Nc7 23. Ne2 Nb5
24. Qb2 Bf6 25. Ndf4 Qd7 26. e5 Bg5 27. a4 Nc7 with an even game. 23. Q×c3 Qe7 24. h4!
This put the Black king bishop out of play for a while. 24. …
Bh6 25. Ne5 g6 (see diagram) wDr4bDkD
26. Ng4 Better is 26. Nc4, followed by e5 and Nd6, with 0wDw1pDp
advantage for White. 26. … Bg7 27. e5 h5 28. Ne3 c5! 29. b×c5 w0pDpDpg
b×c5 30. d5 Interesting was 30. Rb7 Rd7 31. R×d7 B×d7 32. d5 DwDwHwDw
e×d5 33. N×d5 Qe6 34. Nf4 B×e5 35. N×e6 B×c3 36. R×d7 w)w)PDw)
f×e6 37. Be4. 30. … e×d5 31. N×d5 Better seems 31. R×d5 R×d5 )w!wDB)w
32. N×d5 Qe6 33. Rb7 B×e5 34. Qe1 Bd6 35. Q×e6 f×e6
wDwDw)wD
DRDRDwIw
36. Nf6+ Kf8 37. Nh7+ and draw. 31. … Qe6 32. Nf6+ B×f6
33. e×f6 R×d1+ 34. R×d1 Bc6! 35. Re1 Worth consideration After 25. … g6
is: 35. B×c6 R×c6 36. Rd8+ Kh7 37. Qd2 Q×f6 38. Rd7 Kg7
39. Qd5 Rc8 40. R×a7 c4 41. Ra5 with a probable draw. 35. … Qf5 36. Re3 c4
37. a4 Better seems 37. Kg2 B×f3+ 38. R×f3 Qd5 39. Kh2 Rb8 40. Rf4 Rb1 41. Qf3 Q×f3
42. R×f3 Rb3 43. Rf4 c3 44. Ra4 c2 45. Rc4 R×a3 46. R×c2 Ra6 47. Rc7 R×f6 48. R×a7
R×f2+ 49. Kh3 and the endgame is a draw. 37. … a5 Better is 37. … B×a4 38. Be4 Qc5
39. Bf3 Bc6 40. Re5 Qd6 41. B×c6 R×c6 42. Re4 Kh7 43. Rf4 Qd5 44. Kh2 a5 45. Qa3
Rc8 46. Qc3 a4 47. Qc1 a3 48. Q×a3 c3 with a winning position (Sorohtin). 38. Bg2 B×g2
39. K×g2 Qd5+ 40. Kh2 Qf5 41. Rf3 Qc5 42. Rf4! Kh7 If 42. … Qb4 43. Qe3 Q×a4
44. Rf5 Qe8 45. Q×e8+ R×e8 46. R×a5 Rc8 47. Ra2 Kf8 48. Kg2 Ke8 49. Kf3 Kd7 50. Ke4
c3 51. Rc2 Ke6 52. Kd4 K×f6 53. R×c3 R×c3 54. K×c3 with a draw. 43. Rd4 Qc6
Better is 43. … Qb6 44. Rf4 Kg8 (Alekhine). 44. Q×a5! c3 45. Qa7 Kg8 46. Qe7
Qb6 47. Qd7? Better is 47. Rd7 Q×f2+ (if 47. … Rf8 48. Qe3! Q×f6 49. Rc7 with a draw—
Tarrasch) 48. Kh1 Qf1+ 49. Kh2 Qc4 50. Rd8+ R×d8 51. Q×d8+ Kh7 52. Qf8 Qe2+
53. Kg1 and draw. 47. … Qc5 “I overlooked this simple reply” (Capablanca). 48. Re4 Q×f2+
49. Kh3 Qf1+ 50. Kh2 Qf2+ 51. Kh3 Rf8 52. Qc6 Qf1+ 53. Kh2 Qf2+ 54. Kh3
Qf1+ Better is 54. … Qf3 55. Kh2 Kh7 56. Qc4 Qf2+ 57. Kh3 Qg1 55. Kh2 Kh7 56. Qc4
Better is 56. Re7! Qf2+ 57. Kh3 Qf5+ 58. Kh2 Qc2+ 59. Kh3 Qd1 60. Rd7 c2 61. Rc7
and draw. 56. … Qf2+ 57. Kh3 Qg1 58. Re2 Qf1+ 59. Kh2 Q×f6 60. a5 Better is 60. Rc2
Re8 61. Kg2 Rd8 62. Q×c3 (Sozin). 60. … Rd8 Better is 60. … Qf1 61. Qe4 Rd8 62. a6
Rd1 63. Rg2 Rd2 64. R×d2 c×d2 winning. 61. a6 Better is 61. Kg2 Kg7 62. a6 Rd1 63. Rf2
Rd2 64. R×d2 c×d2 65. Qc2 Qd4 66. Qd1 Qe3 67. a7 Qe1 68. Q×e1 d×e1=Q 69. a8=Q
with only a little advantage for Black (Khalifman). 61. … Qf1 With a winning position.
62. Qe4 Rd2 63. R×d2 c×d2 64. a7 d1=Q 65. a8=Q Qg1+ 66. Kh3 Qdf1+ White resigned.
0–1.
“Alekhine can be champion.” This was one of the conclusions which appeared in the
newspaper Crítica following the Russian’s victory in the eleventh game, where he equalized
the score of the match. However, according to Capablanca in his comments, his opponent
“very shortly after the opening was in a very difficult position, in which, in our view, he
should have been lost at some point.” Alekhine himself considered the final part of this game
as “a true comedy of errors.” The comments of Capablanca on the move 47. Rd7, where he
admits again that he forgot the analysis, are indicative that something was not working so
well in the brain of the world champion. At least on two other occasions during the match
he transposed the opening moves when “he believed” that he had already made the previous
move. Examples of this are the Sixth Game, when he checked prematurely on b4 with his
queen, believing that he had previously played … N5f6. And subsequently in the twenty-
third game, in which he castled on move 10 when he thought that he had already played
Qc2.
Despite the ups and downs of the game, Capablanca the next day had compliments for
Alekhine in his article in Crítica: “With the result of this game the match once again creates
greater interest and demonstrates what we have assured on several occasions, i.e. that Dr. Alekhine
is one of the first three players in the world, and that he could take first place at any time.”
Alexander A. Alekhine–Capablanca [D64]

1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 d5 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3 Be7 6. Nf3 0–0 7. Rc1 c6 8. Qc2 a6
9. a3 h6 10. Bh4 Re8 11. Rd1 Alekhine played 11. c×d5 in the 14th game. 11. … b5 12. c×b5
c×b5 13. Bd3 Bb7 14. 0–0 Rc8 15. Qb1 Qa5 16. Ne2 Nb6 Better is 16. … b4 with an even
game. 17. Ne5 Alekhine recommends 17. B×f6 g×f6 (if 17. … B×f6 18. b4 Qa4 [but not 18. …
Q×a3 19. Bh7+ Kh8 20. Rd3 Qa4 21. Nc3 with advantage] 19. Rd2 Nc4 20. Ra2 Be7 21. Qa1
Nb6 22. Rb1 winning) 18. Nf4 Nc4 19. N×e6 f×e6 20. B×c4 R×c4 21. Qg6+ Kf8 22. Q×h6+
Kg8 23. Qg6+ Kf8 24. Ng5! f×g5 25. f4 Bd8 26. f×g5+ Ke7 27. Qf7+ Kd6 28. Q×e8 winning.
17. … Nc4 18. B×f6 B×f6 19. Bh7+ If 19. Nf3 Be7 and Black is a little better. 19. … Kf8
20. Nd7+ Ke7 21. Nc5 (see diagram)
21. … Qb6? Missing a big and easy opportunity. After 21. …
wDrDrDwD R×c5! (Capablanca) and Black has a winning game; for example:
DbDwip0B 22. b4 N×a3 23. Qb2 (if 23. Qb3 Qa4 24. Q×a4 b×a4 25. b×c5
pDwDpgw0 g6 26. Ra1 Nc4 27. R×a4 a5 28. Nc3 Bc6 29. Ra2 Rh8 30. B×g6
1pHpDwDw f×g6 31. Rb1 Rd8 32. h3 e5 and Black is winning) 23. … Qc7
wDn)wDwD 24. b×c5 Q×c5 with a better position. 22. N×b7 Better seems
)wDw)wDw 22. Bd3 N×b2 23. Q×b2 Q×c5 24. a4 Qb6 25. a×b5 Kf8 26. Rb1
w)wDN)P) with an even game. 22. … Q×b7 23. Bd3 Rc7 Better seems 23. …
DQDRDRIw
Kf8 24. Qa2 Be7 and Black is better. 24. Qa2 Rec8 25. b3 Nd6
After 21. Nc5 26. Qd2 Qb6 27. Rc1 Kd7 28. R×c7+ R×c7 29. Bb1 Be7
30. Nf4 Kc8 31. Qe2 g6 32. Nd3 Ne4 Better seems 32. … Qa5
33. Qa2 Rc3 34. a4 b×a4 35. Nc5 a3 36. Na4 Rc7 with an even game. 33. b4 Rc3 34. Qb2
Qc7? Better is 34. … Rc7 35. Nc5 Nd6 36. Bd3 with a small advantage to White’s . 35. Nc5
With a winning position. 35. … B×c5 36. d×c5 Qe5 37. f4 Qg7 38. B×e4 d×e4 39. Kf2
Or 39. Rf2 g5 40. Rc2 39. … Qf6 40. g3 g5 41. Rc1 Black resigned. 1–0.
“The world champion quietly descended from the room where his title is at stake, and
organized a hard-fought match of dominoes, which he let us interrupt to require his impres-
sions of the adjourned game. ‘I’m completely lost,’ Capablanca said to us quite naturally:
‘41. Rc1 wins and anything else wins too. I think that I should have sacrificed the exchange
on my move 21, a moment in which I had obtained a very favorable position. I don’t know
what happens to me; I am as poor Janowski in his later years: I get splendid openings and
then I cannot crown them as necessary’” (Crítica, November 11, 1927).
Capablanca was now down 2 to 3 in the score.
This was the third and last time in his life in which Capablanca lost two consecutive
games. The first time he was a child against Juan Corzo in 1902. That time he could climb
the slope and win the match. But on the second occasion, in St. Petersburg 1914, against
Emanuel Lasker and Tarrasch, he could not recover and Lasker won the tournament. It is
difficult to assess how much the loss of this game affected the Cuban. In 1922, Capablanca
said to the publication English Review that when things like this happened, his memory was
prepared to forget them. According to the Cuban, he forced him to do so because: “Thus I
can go and sleep right after a game, whether I win or lose.”15
According to Garry Kasparov, after his defeats in the eleventh and twelfth games, the
Cuban followed the same strategy as Emanuel Lasker in 1921: “Capablanca came down to
earth, gathered his strength and began making draws, in order to gradually come to, get back
to his best and begin a new offensive.” In the days after the twelfth game, the Buenos Aires
newspapers began to publish that the Cuban was now seen more on the tennis courts than
in theatres. But they added that after a few days of daytime exercises under the Buenos Aires
sun, Capablanca returned to his usual evening activities.
On October 15, before the fifteenth game and with the score 3–2 with 9 draws, in favor
of the challenger, Capablanca wrote a letter to Julius Finn, published later in British Chess
Magazine ( January 1928). In the letter, the champion considered that the match would end
without victor or vanquished since both rivals would understand the futility of the effort.
[Letterhead of the Argentine Chess Club]
15 October 1927
Mr. Julius Finn.
Dear Mr. Finn:
I am not doing as well as expected. I believe, however, that should another match be arranged
in New York, for say, the beginning of 1929, I could do much better. I am, therefore, writing to
you to ask you take interest in this affair and do your best to arrange for me a return match in
January, February or March of 1929.
I have spoken to Alekhine about this, and he says he would be very glad to play. I have written
to both Lederer and Roosevelt.16 Please, therefore, speak to Lederer.
Should the match here end in a draw, [italics added] I suggest that the next match be limited
to twenty games, the winner of the majority to win the match. Please attend to this for me.
With my very best regards, I remain sincerely yours,
J.R. Capablanca.
In a fragment of another letter of the same day to Lederer (published in Chess Horizons,
November-December 1928, page 6), the Cuban reiterated the same theme, always noting
that it would happen should the match then being played end in a draw, obviously by mutual
agreement of the parties, since the London Rules did not provide another possibility. In the
postscript, the Cuban reiterated to Lederer that Alekhine was in agreement to the main idea
of a similar solution. This seems to have been possible, as Alekhine showed him the letter
which, in turn, he had written to Lederer. It is remarkable that although in both letters it is
clearly established in conditional form “should the match here end in a draw,” Alekhine
insisted later on interpreting this as a change in the “London Rules.”
The sixteenth game, played at the Jockey Club, was a draw in 24 moves after both oppo-
nents complained about the noise in the playing room. Alles Monasterio’s explanation about
the origin of the noise was as follows:
This game was played again in the Boguereau Room, where the Fourth had been played, which
was on the first floor of the palace at 559 Florida Street, on the left wing of the building, up the
wide main staircase. At a certain distance and in one of the aisles away from where the game was
played, there was a room called “the madhouse” by those who frequented it, and there was put
together that night and at that time, the buzz that Alekhine mentioned, which prevented him
from being able to continue playing.17
Celaya wrote a different version in Crítica, according to which the attendees to the
playing room themselves were the cause of the disorder, forcing arbiter Carlos Querencio to
suspend the game for 15 minutes. According to Celaya: “Some enthusiasts of the great Buenos
Aires institution forgot, in their love for the noble game, the essential silence that must be
kept in a match of this nature. Furthermore, the enthusiasm of the members was so intense,
that they hardly obeyed—in any case they obeyed insufficiently to comply with them—the
repeated signs and hisses inciting them to a greater calm.…” At the end of the game, both
players claimed to be in a better position. The truth is that it slightly favored the challenger.
Before the draw both engaged in some inaccuracies.
The seventeenth game brought another disappointment to the world champion, who
after building a position of undeniable strategic advantage saw all his efforts evaporated by
the absence of his usual technique to turn small advantages into magnificent victories, some-
thing which had raised him to the heights. This game was played again at the Jockey Club,
despite a letter of protest by Alekhine because of the noise level there. Alekhine agreed to
play again in the Jockey Club after receiving assurances that the incident would not occur
again. But it must also be mentioned that that association contributed 15,000 pesos ($88,000
in 2015) for the match, in exchange for which it would serve as headquarters to the cham-
pionship on a number of games. Therefore, it was very difficult to say no to the Jockey Club,
especially since there was a written contract.
Capablanca–Alexander A. Alekhine [E12]

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3 Be7 6. Nf3 0–0 7. Rc1 a6 8. a3 b6
9. c×d5 e×d5 10. Bd3 Bb7 11 .0–0 c5 12. d×c5 b×c5 13. Qe2 Re8 14. Bc2 If 14. Bf5 h6
15. Bh4 d4 16. e×d4 c×d4 17. N×d4 B×a3 18. Qd2 Bd6 with an even game. 14. … Qb6
15. Rfd1 Rad8 Better is 15. … d4 16. e×d4 c×d4 17. N×d4 B×a3 18. Na4 Qa5 19. Be3 Bf8
with an even game. 16. Na4 Qb5 17. Q×b5 a×b5 18. Nc3 Bc6 If 18. … Ne4 19. B×e4 d×e4
20. B×e7 R×e7 21. Nh4 Bc6 22. Nf5 Re5 23. Nd6 and White is better. 19. Bd3 Interesting
is 19. Bf5 h6 20. Bf4 Ra8 21. h3 Red8 22. Bd3 b4 23. a×b4 c×b4 24. Nd4 b×c3 25. N×c6
c×b2 26. N×e7+ Kf8 27. Rb1 K×e7 28. R×b2 with White advantage. 19. ... c4?! Better is
19. ... b4 20. a×b4 d4 21. e×d4 B×f3 22. g×f3 c×d4 23. Nb5 Ne5 24. f4 N×d3 25. R×d3 h6
26. Bh4 Rb8 27. N×d4 R×b4 28. b3 Nd5 with an even game. 20. Bf5 b4 21. a×b4 B×b4
22. Nd4 Bb7 23. B×d7 R×d7 24. B×f6 g×f6 (see diagram)
25. Nde2 Better is 25. Nf5! Re5 26. g4 with advantage for wDwDrDkD
White. 25. ... Bd6! 26. Rc2 Be5 27. Rcd2 Rc7 28. Ra1 Kg7 DbDrDpDp
29. g3 Rc5 30. Ra7 Rb8 31. Nd4 Kg6 32. f4 Better is 32. Nf3 wDwDw0wD
Kg7 33. Kg2 Rcc8 34. Nd4 Re8 35. Ra5 Red8 36. Kf3 and White DwDpDwDw
maintains his advantage. 32. ... Bc7 33. Kf2 Ra5 Now the posi- wgpHwDwD
tion is even. 34. R×a5 B×a5 35. g4 h5 36. g×h5+ K×h5 37. Kf3 DwHw)wDw
Rg8 38. Rg2 R×g2 39. K×g2 Kg4 40. h3+ Kh4 41. Nf5+ Kh5 w)wDw)P)
42. Kg3 Bb4 43. Nd4 Kg6 44. Kg4 f5+! 45. Kg3 Kf6 46. Nf3 Dw$RDwIw
Bc5 47. Kf2 Bb4 48. Ne5 Bd6 49. Nf3 Bb4 50. h4 Kg6 51. Ne2 After 24. … g×f6
Bc8 52. Ng3 Be6 53. h5+ Kh6 54. Ke2 Be7 55. Kd2 Bd8
56. Nd4 Bc8 57. Kc2 Ba5 58. Kd1 If 58. Nd×f5+ B×f5+ 59. N×f5+ K×h5 60. Nd6 Kg4
61. N×f7 Kf3 with an even game (Alekhine). 58. ... Bb4 59. Ke2 Bd7 Draw. ½–½.
In his book about the match (page 90), Alles Monasterio wrote that journalists covering
the championship commented that Capablanca was depressed and had said: “If I didn’t win
this game, it is very difficult to believe that I could win the match.”
But not all was joy for the challenger. Alekhine, whom Celaya defined in Crítica, Octo-
ber 21, as “a real pile of nerves in continuing tension, propelled by a high voltage capable of
electrocuting half of humanity,” was so displeased with the theoretical commentaries of the
eighteenth game, that he approached the reporter and said in a challenging tone: “What
should be played instead of 15. Ke2 that I did in the game?” (Game 18: after 1. d4 Nf6 2. c4
e6 3. Nc3 d5 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 0–0 6. Nf3 Nbd7 7. Rc1 c6 8. Bd3 d×c4 9. B×c4 Nd5 10. B×e7
Q×e7 11. Ne4 N5f6 12. Ng3 Qb4+ 13. Qd2 Q×d2+ 14. K×d2 Rd8). When the Argentinian
replied that, according to the Austrian magazine Wiener Schachzeitung, 15. Bd3 was recom-
mended, this made the Russian explode, who after fixing Celaya with a glare, asked him with
hard irony: “And to 15. … e5 what is the response of the Wiener Schachzeitung?” The Argen-
tine recited to him the analysis 16. d×e5 Ng4 17. e6. To which Alekhine replied: “I don’t
think such a thing can be played because of the decisive … Nde5. All my pieces would be
stuck in a horrible situation; at least that is what I saw on the board.” But Alekhine revised
his judgment and employed 15. Bd3 in the twentieth game, so both the Viennese magazine
and Celaya got off lightly from the wrath of the Slavic master (Crítica, October 21).
The twentieth game, somewhat neglected because it was a draw, showed mistakes on
both sides again, especially when Capablanca made a losing 39th move and Alekhine did
not take advantage of it in his 40th.

1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 d5 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 0–0 6. Nf3 Nbd7 7. Rc1 c6 8. Bd3

d×c4 9. B×c4 Nd5 10. B×e7 Q×e7 11. Ne4 N5f6 12. Ng3 Qb4+ 13. Qd2 Q×d2+
14. K×d2 Rd8 Capablanca played 14. ... b6 in the 16th game. 15. Bd3 e5 16. d×e5 Ng4
17. e6 Nde5 18. N×e5 N×e5 19. e×f7+ K×f7 20. Rc3 b5 21. f4 If 21. Kc2 b4 22. Rb3 Be6
23. B×h7 B×b3+ 24. K×b3 g6 25. f4 Rd3+ and Black is better. 21. ... b4 22. f×e5 b×c3+
23. K×c3 Ke6 24. Ne2 K×e5 25. Nd4 Bb7 26. B×h7 c5 27. Nf3+ Kf6 28. Bd3 Re8 29. Re1
B×f3 30. g×f3 Rh8 31. Re2 Rh4 32. Be4 Rd8 33. a4 g5 34. a5 g4 35. f×g4 R×g4 36. Bd3
Ra4 37. Rf2+ Ke7 38. a6 Rf8 39. Rg2 (see diagram)
wDwDw4wD 39. ... c4? Better is 39. ... Ra1 40. Rg7+ Rf7 41. Rg2 Rc1+
0wDwiwDw 42. Kd2 Rh1 43. Kc3 Rc1+ with an even game. 40. B×c4?
PDwDwDwD 40. Rg7+ Kf6 (if 40. ... Rf7 41. R×f7+ K×f7 42. B×c4+ with
Dw0wDwDw advantage for White) 41. Rg6+ Kf7 42. Rg4 with advantage for
rDwDwDwD White (Alekhine). 40. ... Rc8 41. b3 R×a6 42. e4 Ra1 43. Kd4
DwIB)wDw If 43. e5 Rc1+ 44. Kb4 (or 44. Kd4 Rd1+; Or 44. Kb2 R8xc4
w)wDwDR) 45. b×c4 R×c4 46. Kb3 Rh4 with an even game) 44. ... a5+
DwDwDwDw 45. K×a5 R1xc4! with an even game (Alekhine). 43. ... Rh8
After 39. Rg2 Draw. ½–½.
The twenty-first game put the score 4–2 in favor of Alekhine after a masterful per-
formance by the challenger with a forceful final blow.18 When Capablanca resigned the game,
after shaking hands with Alekhine, he dropped his arms violently on his knees and whispered:
“I don’t know what is happening to me.” But it was not the first time he made this kind of
commentary. After this, it was said by some that he was sick, but no one offered concrete
evidence. It is possible that it was around that time that the Cuban was affected by high
blood pressure, hence his repeated mentions that he lost both the viewing of the games and
the correct order of moves. Less than two years later, during the tournament in Carlsbad
which began on July 25, 1929, a doctor, Lubomir May, put him under treatment. But it was
implicit in subsequent statements from Capablanca that the doctor did not make a correct
diagnosis about the source of his malaise. This at least suggests that he suffered from the
same ailment in 1927, and did not know it. It was published in Crítica (October 27) that
after the defeat, Capablanca “moved to the nearest restroom and there he dampened his
forehead, agitated by the [game’s] effort. He remained analyzing the game that he had lost
with only the help of two friends, and after that moment of moral depression, he descended
to the domino room, looking cool and quiet.”
Alekhine began the next game (the twenty-second) with his confidence strengthened
by the preceding victory. Capablanca lost opportunities to even the game at moves 24 and
26. The combination that Alekhine started with the move 32. B×e6 was extremely risky, as
it was impossible to calculate all its consequences. The sacrifice of the bishop on e6, with
the consequent tactical juggling, was a surprise for attendees to the game, who thought the
Russian master was lost after it.

World Championship, 22nd Game,
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 d5 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3 Be7 6. Nf3 0–0 7. Rc1 c6 8. Bd3
d×c4 9. B×c4 Nd5 10. B×e7 Q×e7 11. Ne4 N5f6 12. Ng3 Qb4+ 13. Qd2 Q×d2+
14. K×d2 Rd8 Capablanca played 14. ... b6 in the 16th game. 15. Rhd1 Alekhine played
15. Ke2 in the 18th game. 15. ... b6 16. e4 Bb7 17. e5 Ne8 18. Ke3 Kf8 19. Ng5 Alekhine
played 19. h4 in the 20th game. 19. ... h6 20. N5e4 Ke7 21. f4 f5 22. Nc3 Nc7 23. Nge2 g5
24. h4 g4 Alekhine recommends 24. ... g×h4 25. Rh1 Rg8 26. R×h4 R×g2 27. R×h6 Rag8
28. Rh7+ R8g7 29. R×g7+ R×g7 30. Rg1 with an even game. It is also possible 24. ...
b5 25. Bb3 g×f4+ 26. N×f4 c5 27. Kf2 Rab8 with an even game. 25. Ng3 a5 26. Bb3 Rac8
Capablanca played 26. ... b5 in the 24th game. 27. a3 Rf8 28. Rd2 Ba8 29. Rdc2 c5 30. d×c5
N×c5 Alekhine recommends 30. ... b×c5 in order to search for counterplay in the b column.
31. Na4 N7a6 32. B×e6 K×e6 33. N×b6 Rb8 If 33. ... Rc7 34. b4 a×b4 35. a×b4 N×b4
36. R×c5 R×c5 37. R×c5 B×g2 38. Ne2 Kf7 39. Rc7+ Kg8 40. Kf2 Be4 41. Nc8 Nd5 42. Rc5
Rd8 43. Nd6 and White is better. 34. N×a8 Rb3+ If 34. ... R×a8 35. Ne2 Nb3 36. Rc6+
Ke7 37. Rd1 and White is better (Alekhine). 35. Rc3 R×c3+ 36. b×c3 R×a8 37. Rd1 Rf8
38. Rd6+ Ke7 39. R×h6 Nc7 40. Rh7+ Kd8 41. c4 (sealed) (see diagram)
This sealed move was not shown on the board until Capa-
blanca went to sit at the playing table on the day of resumption, wDwiw4wD
Monday, October 31 at 7:00 p.m. Alekhine arrived early to the DwhwDwDR
game room and began to comment that he had analyzed 102 vari- wDwDwDwD
ants during three days, all of them winning, the longest of which 0whw)pDw
gave to his rival a maximum remaining 22 moves. According to wDPDw)p)
the note published in Crítica, the Russian explained to the mem- )wDwIwHw
bers on one board of the club how he would get one or two pawns
wDwDwDPD
DwDwDwDw
more, enough to get the victory. If this was true, it looks like a
violation by Alekhine to analyze the game with others in the play- After 41. c4
ing site before its resumption.
However, it was not only here that the rules of the match were put into question. Capa-
blanca arrived 15 minutes late and asked for a private room where he could analyze alone,
which he did for 53 minutes. After that, he went up to the playing room and made his move
41. ... N7e6 The game followed: 42. Ra7 Better is 42. Ne2 Kc8 43. Nc3 Rd8 44. Nd5 with
a winning position (Alekhine). 42. ... Nc7! 43. R×a5 N5e6 44. h5 Kd7 45. h6 N×f4!
46. K×f4 Ne6+ 47. Ke3 f4+ 48. Kf2 f×g3+ 49. K×g3 Rh8 50. Rd5+ Ke7 51. c5 R×h6
52. c6 Nf8 53. Rc5 Kd8 54. K×g4 Rg6+ 55. Kf3 Kc7 56. g4 Ne6 57. Rd5 Nd8 58. Rc5
If 58. Rd7+ Kc8 59. a4 R×c6 60. Rd5 Rc4 61. a5 Ne6 62. Kg3 Rc3+ 63. Kh4 Nc7 64. Rd2
Re3 with an even game. 58. ... Ne6 59. Rd5 Nf8 60. Ra5 R×c6 61. Ke4 Rc1 62. Ra7+ Kc6
63. Ra6+ Kd7 64. Ra7+ Ke6 65. Ra6+ Ke7 66. a4 Nd7 67. Rh6 Re1+ 68. Kd4 N×e5
69. a5 N×g4 70. Rh7+ Kd6 71. a6 Ra1 72. a7 Nf6 73. Rb7 Nd7 74. Rb2 R×a7 75. Rd2
Nc5 76. Kc4+ Kc6 77. Rh2 Ra4+ 78. Kc3 Rg4 79. Kd2 Rg3 80. Rh5 Kb5 81. Ke2 Kc4
82. Rh4+ Kc3 83. Kf2 Rd3 84. Rf4 Kd2 85. Kg2 Rd5 86. Kf3 Kd3 Draw. ½–½.
When the game ended, Alekhine complained to arbiter Querencio about the analysis
that the champion carried out behind closed doors, but the arbiter told the Russian that
there was no clause in the rules that prevented it. In fact, Capablanca had not gone up to
the private room where the games were played, nor was the sealed move shown to him, which
was not made public until he sat at the table to continue the game. But the claim embarrassed
Querencio.
The strange and certainly unusual attitude of Capablanca was one of Alekhine’s com-
plaints when he argued that improper situations occurred during the match. However, as
stated above, that afternoon, while waiting for the arrival of the Cuban, the Slav analyzed
the adjourned position with other members of the club in a room of the institution, according
to reports that appeared on the majority of Buenos Aires newspapers, especially in Crítica.
Alekhine also claimed that Capablanca was living in Querencio’s house, certainly a very
unusual arrangement between an arbiter and a player, especially in a championship. It is
known that during his first day in Buenos Aires, the Cuban resided at the Hotel Majestic,
the same one where his opponent lived later. After that, the Cuban was a guest of Querencio
at his home at 476 Libertad Street (the Hotel Majestic was nearby, at 121 Libertad), two
blocks from the club.
Without going into details about the unusual behavior of the Cuban in the twenty-
second game, the newspapers explained that during Saturday, Sunday and Monday, “we can
ensure, however, our readers that the analysis of the game did not require him [Capablanca]
many hours of these three days. Other more interesting activities occupied the attention of
the singular Cuban master” (Crítica, November 2, 1927). At the end of this game Capablanca
asked Alekhine to explain to him how he intended to win. According to Alles Monasterio,
other witnesses and press releases, Alekhine could not prove it, and finally faced with the
inability of showing a winning formula he said: “Et pour tant c’est gagné!” (“And therefore
it is won!”) He then rose from the table and left. The impossibility of prevailing in a possibly
winning position, in which he was also defeated in the analysis, caused a great mental exhaus-
tion in the challenger. When he descended from the playing room, he had to hold strongly
onto the stair railing to not fall down. Once in the room, where Nadezhda was waiting for
him, both came out together and again in the stairway entrance Alekhine would have fallen
down if not for her holding him. When Capablanca descended to the first floor and was
applauded by those who were there, he said: “I used to play like this before!”
After the twenty-fifth game, on November 6, in which Capablanca could not carry out
a strategic advantage that had guaranteed him the victory on many previous occasions, the
Argentine Chess Club directors met with both rivals to make them know the concerns about
the budget for the match. An explanation appearing in Alles Monasterio’s book (page 120)
said without many details “that both, champion and challenger, agree to suspend the match,
if necessary [italics added].” In this case, Capablanca would keep the title and Alekhine would
retain the priority right to challenge him next year. However, Alles Monasterio added that
“a number of prominent members of the Argentine Chess Club want to achieve a definitive
result, and are resolved to make every effort to obtain the necessary funds in order to cover
the unforeseen expenses.”
Then came the twenty-seventh game:

Buenos Aires, 9 November 1927
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3 Be7 6. Nf3 0–0 7. Rc1 a6 8. c×d5
e×d5 9. Bd3 c6 10. Qc2 Capablanca played 10. 0–0 in the 23rd game. 10... h6 11. Bh4 Ne8
Nowadays the main variation is: 11. ... Re8 12. 0–0 Nh5 13. B×e7 Q×e7 14. Rfe1 Nhf6 15. e4
d×e4 16. N×e4 Qf8 with a better game for White. 12. Bg3 Bd6 13 .0–0 B×g3 14. h×g3
Nd6 15. Na4 Re8 16. Rfe1 Nf6 17. Ne5 Nfe4 Better seems 17. ... Ng4 18. N×g4 B×g4 19. Nc5
Qg5 20. b4 Re7 21. a4 Bf5 with an even game. 18. Qb3 Be6 It seems better 18. ... Bf5 19. B×e4
B×e4 20. Nc5 Re7 21. a3 Qc7 with an even game. 19. Nc5 N×c5 20. d×c5 Nb5 21. a4 Nc7
22. Bb1 But not 22. Q×b7 Bc8 winning. 22. ... Bc8 23. Nf3 Ne6 24. e4 d×e4 25. R×e4
Re7 26. Rce1 Bd7 If 26... N×c5 27. R×e7 N×b3 28. Re8+ Q×e8 29. R×e8 mate. 27. Qc2
g6 28. Ba2 Qf8 29. Ne5 Qg7 30. N×d7 R×d7 31. B×e6 f×e6 32. Rg4 Kh7 33. R×e6 Rg8
34. Qe4 Rf7 35. f4 Qf8 36. Rg×g6 Q×c5+ 37. Kf1 Qc1+ (see diagram)
38. Kf2? A gross mistake in a winning position. 38. Ke2 wDwDwDrD

was the right move and the game is over after: 38. ... Q×b2+ DpDwDrDk
39. Kf3 Qb3+ (If 39. ... Qc3+ 40. Kg4 Kh8 41. R×g8+ K×g8 pDpDRDR0
42. Kh5 Qc5+ 43. Kg6 Rg7+ 44. K×h6 Kf7 45. Re7+ winning.) DwDwDwDw
40. Kf2 Qb2+ 41. Kg1 Qa1+ 42. Kh2 winning. 38. ... Qd2+ PDwDQ)wD
Draw. ½–½. “The jig is up,” said Capablanca to Helms in New DwDwDw)w
York in an interview for The Brooklyn Daily Eagle (February 12, w)wDwDPD
1928). Dw1wDKDw
The game was a heavy blow to Capablanca from the sporting After 37. … Qc1+
and moral points of view. But it was not definitive, as the Cuban
had the strength to continue playing games full of dramatic moments. An example is the
twenty-eighth game, where a true problem solution found by Alekhine in home analysis
enabled him to avoid defeat after having rejected a proposal of a draw on move 37.
In the 29th game, Capablanca maintained an advantage throughout but underestimated

his rival’s defensive capability with a pawn down. At the end, an undue continuation of the
challenger, as proved in subsequent analyses, gave the Cuban his third victory.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3 c6 6. Nf3 Qa5 7. Nd2 The modern
line is 7. c×d5 N×d5 8. Rc1 (also possible is 8. Qd2) 8. ... N×c3 9. b×c3 Ba3 10. Rc2 b6
11. Be2 Ba6 12. 0–0 B×e2 13. Q×e2 0–0 14. e4 Rac8 15. e5 Qa4 16. c4 RFe8 17. Rd1 c5
18. d5! and White won in 47 moves. Carlsen–Mamediarov, Shamkiev, 2014. 7. ... Bb4 8. Qc2
d×c4 Alekhine played 8. … 0–0 in the 7th game. 9. B×f6 N×f6 10. N×c4 Qc7 11. a3 Be7
12. g3 Capablanca played 12. Be2 in the 11th game. 12. ... 0–0 A possibility is 12. ... c5
13. Nb5 Qb8 14. d×c5 B×c5 15. Bg2 Bd7 16. Nc3 0–0 17. 0–0 Qc7 with an even game (Tar-
takower). 13. Bg2 Interesting is 13. b4 b6 14. Bg2 Bb7 15. 0–0 Rac8 16. Rfc1 Nd5 17. Ne4
with a little advantage to White. Ilievsky–Janošević, Zagreb 1977. 13. ... Bd7 Black can play
13. ... c5 14. Nb5 Qb8 15. d×c5 B×c5 16. Rd1 a6 17. Ncd6 Nd7 18. N×c8 Q×c8 19. Nd4 a5
20. Ne2 Bb4+ 21. Nc3 B×c3+ 22. b×c3 Qc7 23. 0–0 Rac8 with an even game. Yusupov–
Panchenko, USSR 1984. 14. b4! Now White has an advantage. 14. ... b6 15. 0–0 a5 16. Ne5!
a×b4 17. a×b4 R×a1 If 17. ... B×b4 18. Nb5 Qd8 (if 18. ... Qc8 19. Na7 Qe8 20. Qb3 Bd6
21. Na×c6 with a big advantage for White) 19. N×d7 N×d7 20. Q×c6 with advantage for
White. 18. R×a1 Rc8 If 18. ... B×b4 19. Nb5 Qc8 20. Na7 Qc7 21. N×d7 Q×d7 22. B×c6
with advantage for White. 19. N×d7 Q×d7 20. Na4 Qd8 21. Qb3 Nd5 22. b5 c×b5
23. Q×b5 Ra8 If 23. ... Nc3 24. N×c3 R×c3 25. Bc6 Ra3 26. Rb1 g6 27. Q×b6 with advantage
for White. 24. Rc1 Ra5 25. Qc6 Ba3 26. Rb1 Bf8 If 26. ... R×a4 27. Q×a4 Nc3 28. Q×a3
N×b1 29. Qb2 winning (Tartakower). 27. B×d5 R×d5 28. N×b6 Rd6 29. Qb7 h5 30. Nc4
Rd7 31. Qe4 Rc7 32. Ne5 Qc8 33. Kg2 Bd6 34. Ra1 Rb7 If 34. ... Qb7? 35. Ra8+ Bf8
36. Q×b7 R×b7 37. Rd8 winning (Tartakower). 35. Nd3 g6 36. Ra6 Bf8 37. Rc6 Better is
37. Ne5 Re7 (if 37... Kh7 38. N×g6 f×g6 39. R×e6 Rg7 40. Re8 winning) 38. Rb6 Qc7
39. Rb5 Bg7 40. Qa8+ Kh7 41. Nf3 Bf6 42. Qf8. 37... Rc7 38. R×c7 Hübner recommends
38. Rb6 “and Black could have looked forward to the greatest of difficulties, whereas after
the text move the position can probably no longer be won.” 38. ... Q×c7 39. Ne5 Bg7
40. Qa8+ Kh7 41. Nf3 Bf6 42. Qa6 Kg7 43. Qd3 Qb7 44. e4 Qc6 45. h3 Qc7 46. d5
e×d5 47. e×d5 Qc3 48. Q×c3 After 48. Qd1 Qc4 49. d6 Kf8 50. Qb1 Ke8 51. Qb7 Qc5
52. Qa8+ Kd7 53. Qa2 K×d6 54. Q×f7 Qf5 Black can draw the endgame. 48. ... B×c3
49. Kf1 Kf6 50. Ke2 Bb4 51. Nd4 Bc5 52. Nc6 Kf5 53. Kf3 Kf6 54. g4 h×g4+ 55. h×g4
Kg5? A big mistake. Black can draw with 55. ... Bd6 56. Nd8 (Or 56. Ke4 Kg5 57. Nd8 f5+
58. g×f5 g×f5+ 59. Kd3 Bh2 60. Nc6 Bd6) 56. ... Bc7 57. g5+ K×g5 58. N×f7+ Kf6 59. d6
Bb6; Or 55. ... Bb6 56 Ke2 Bc7 57. f3 Kg5 58. Ke3 f5 59. Nd4
wDwDwDwD Bb6 60. g×f5 g×f5 61. f4+ Kg4 62. d6 Kg3 63. d7 Kg4 64. Kd3
DwDwDpDw K×f4 (see diagram)
wDNDwDpD 56. Ne5! Bd4 If 56. ... f5 57. d6 f×g4+ 58. Kg2 Bb6 59. d7
DwgPDwiw Kf5 60. Nc6 winning. If 56. ... Ba3 57. d6 Kf6 58. d7 Ke7
wDwDwDPD 59. N×f7 K×d7 60. Ne5+ winning. 57. N×f7+ Kf6 58. Nd8
DwDwDKDw Bb6 59. Nc6 Bc5 60. Kf4! B×f2 If 60. ... g5+ 61. Kf3 Kf7 62. Ke2
wDwDw)wD Ke8 63. f3 Kd7 64. Kd3 Kd6 65. Ke4 Ba3 66. Nd4 Bc1 67. Ne6
DwDwDwDw Bd2 68. Kf5 Be3 69. N×g5 winning. 61. g5+ Kf7 62. Ne5+ Ke7
After 55. … Kg5 63. N×g6+ Kd6 64. Ke4 Bg3 65. Nf4 Ke7 66. Ke5 Be1 67. d6+
Kd7 68. g6 Bb4 69. Kd5 Ke8 70. d7+ Black resigned. 1–0.
For many, the turning point of the match came in the thirty-first game.

World Championship, 31st Game,
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3 c6 6. Bd3 Qa5 7. Bh4 d×c4 8. B×c4
b5 9. Bb3 Capablanca played 9. Bd3 in the 33rd game. 9. ... Bb7 10. Nf3 c5 11. d×c5 B×c5
12. 0–0 0–0 13. Nd4 a6 14. Qe2 If 14. N×e6 f×e6 15. B×e6+ Kh8 16. B×d7 Rad8 17. B×f6
R×f6 18. Qh5 Qc7 19. Bh3 Rh6 20. Qe2 b4 21. Nd1 Bc6! and Black has an enormous com-
pensation for the pawn. 14. ... b4 15. Na4 B×d4 16. e×d4 Nd5 17. Bg3 Bc6 18. Qc2 B×a4
19. B×a4 Rac8 20. Qd1 N7b6 21. Bc2 Better is 21. Bb3 Qb5 22. Re1 Nc4 23. Qe2 Rc6
24. Rac1 Rfc8 25. Rc2 with an even position. 21. ... Nc4 22. b3 Na3 If 22. ... Nce3?
23. B×h7+ K×h7 24. Qh5+ Kg8 25. f×e3 winning. If 22. ... Nde3 23. f×e3 N×e3 24. Qd2!
(Ståhlberg and Alles Monasterio) 24. ... N×c2 25. Rac1 Q×a2 (if 25... Na3 26. Bd6 winning)
26. Bd6 Rfd8 (if 26. ... Q×b3 27. B×f8 K×f8 28. d5! winning) 27. Qf2 Q×b3 (if 27. ... Rd7
28. B×b4! Q×b3 29. Bc5 winning) 28. Q×f7+ Kh8 29. Be5 Rg8 30. Rf3 Qb2 (if 30. ... Qd5
31. R×c2 R×c2 32. Q×g7+ and mate) 31. Rcf1 h6 32. Qg6 (or
wDwDwDwD 32. Rh3) winning. 23. Bd3 Nb5 24. Be5 f5 25. Bc4 Rfd8
4wDwDkDw 26. Re1 Qb6 27. Qd2 Qb7 If 27. ... Nbc3 28. a3 Ne4 29. Qd3 a5
pDRDpDwD 30. f3 Nec3 31. a×b4 Q×b4 32. Rec1 and White is better.
)wDnGpDp 28. B×d5! Q×d5 Better is 28. ... R×d5 but White maintains an
wDw)wDpD advantage with 29. Q×b4 Qd7 30. Red1 Nc3 31. Re1 Nb5.
DPDwDwDP 29. Q×b4 Rc2 If 29. ... N×d4 30. Q×d4 Q×d4 31. B×d4 R×d4
wDwDK)PD 32. R×e6 with advantage. 30. Qe7 Qd7 31. Q×d7 R×d7
DwDwDwDw 32. Kf1! Kf7 33. a4 Nc3 34. Rac1 R×c1 35. R×c1 Nd5 36. Rc6
After 39. … g4 Ra7 37. a5 g5 38. h3 h5 39. Ke2 g4 (see diagram)
40. Rc8? A gross mistake. Decisive was 40. Rb6! suggested by Grau in El Ajedrez Amer-
icano, April 1928. If now 40. ... N×b6 (if 40. ... g×h3 41. g×h3 N×b6 42. a×b6 Rb7 43. Bc7
Ke8 44. Kf3 Ke7 45. Kf4 Kf6 46. Bd8+ Kg6 47. Ke5 Kf7 48. Kd6 winning—Fridstein).
41. a×b6 Rb7 42. Bc7 Ke7 43. Ke3 Kd7 44. Kf4 R×c7 45. b×c7 K×c7 46. Ke5 Kd7 47. d5
winning. It is worth mentioning that Capablanca had a winning exchange sacrifice in the
12th game and he did not do it and lost the game. And in the 11th game, he could win an
exchange and he did not and lost the game. 40. ... Rb7 41. Rb8 R×b8 42. B×b8 Here,
Capablanca offered a draw. Hübner and Timman said that White can continue playing, but
as Timman added, the draw offer “can only mean that deep in your heart you have already
given up.” 42. ... Ke7 Draw. Timman considers that the endgame is even after: 43. Kd3 Kd7
44. Kc4 g×h3! 45. g×h3 Kc6 etc. ½–½.
After losing the opportunity to equalize the match 4–4, the Cuban had numerous
other opportunities to even the position in the thirty-second game, but the good moves
went out of his control and he ended up losing, which placed the score 5–3 in favor of the
challenger.
In the thirty-third game, the champion, despite playing with White, agreed to a draw
after just 18 moves. The thirty-fourth game, which began on November 26, was a great fight,
contested under huge strain.

1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3 c6 6. a3 Be7 7. Nf3 0–0 8. Bd3 It is
interesting that Capablanca played later this variation with White. For example: 8. Qc2 a6
(or 8. ... Re8 9. Bd3 [or 9. Rd1 Nf8 10. Bd3 d×c4 11. B×c4 Nd5 12. B×e7 Q×e7 13. 0–0 b6
Capablanca–Thomas, Hastings 1934/35. And now White can play 14. e4 N×c3 15. Q×c3
with advantage] 9. … d×c4 10. B×c4 Nd5 11. B×e7 Q×e7 12. Ne4 Rd8 13. 0–0 Nf8 14. Rfe1
b6 15. Rac1 Bb7 16. Qe2 a5 17. Ne5 f6 18. Nf3 Kh8 19. Nc3 N×c3 20. R×c3 e5 21. Rd1
e×d4 22. R×d4 R×d4 23. e×d4 Q×e2 24. B×e2 Re8 draw. Capablanca–Kashdan. New York,
1931) Or 9. c×d5 e×d5 10. Bd3 Re8 11. 0–0 Ne4? 12. B×e4 d×e4 13. N×e4 with a winning
position. Capablanca–Réti, Berlin 1928. 8. ... d×c4 9. B×c4 Nd5 10. B×e7 Q×e7 11. Ne4
N5f6 12. Ng3 c5 13. 0–0 Nb6 14. Ba2 c×d4 15. N×d4 g6 16. Rc1 Bd7 17. Qe2 Rac8 18. e4
e5 19. Nf3 Kg7 Better is 19. ... Bg4 20. h3 B×f3 21. Q×f3 Rfd8 22. Qe3 Rd4 23. Qg5 R×c1
24. R×c1 Kf8 with an even game. 20. h3 h6 21. Qd2 Be6 Better
is 21. ... Na4 22. Rfd1 (if 22. Qa5 N×b2 with an even game) 22. ... wDwDwDwD
Rfd8 with an even game. 22. B×e6 Q×e6 23. Qa5 Nc4 24. Q×a7 DwDwDpDk
N×b2 25. R×c8 R×c8 26. Q×b7 Nc4 Interesting is 26. ... Nd3 w1wDwDp0
27. a4 Rc5 28. Rd1 Rc3 29. Qb5 Rb3 30. Qa5 Qe7 31. Rd2 Ra3 4wDwDwDw
and Black has enough compensation for the pawn. 27. Qb4 PDwDwDwD
Ra8 28. Ra1 Qc6 29. a4 N×e4 30. N×e5 Qd6 31. Q×c4 Dw!wDwDP
Q×e5 32. Re1 Nd6 33. Qc1 Qf6 34. Ne4 N×e4 35. R×e4 Rb8 wDw$w)PD
36. Re2 Maybe quicker is 36. a5 Ra8 37. Ra4 Ra6 38. Qe3. 36. ... DwDwDwIw
Ra8 37. Ra2 Ra5 38. Qc7 Qa6 39. Qc3+ Kh7 40. Rd2 Qb6 After 40. … Qb6
(see diagram)
When the game was adjourned for the first time, it was clear that the possibilities were
with the challenger. Celaya asked Alekhine about the possible outcome and the Russian
replied: “I can only say that I am in a better position than my opponent, since I have a slight
advantage in my favor.” Capablanca also did not want to predict the outcome. “Is not less
reserved [original slang no es menos reservado—very discreet] this friendly Cuban, world
chess champion, who suffered setbacks night after night that could demoralize a statue with-
out losing his usual humor and calm.”
“Your impression about the game, master?”
“I already said it: it is very difficult.”
“Will it be a draw?”
“I’ve also said it: I do not know. It is difficult.”
“What else could you tell us in this regard?”
“Nothing. If you know everything and I know nothing, why do you ask me?” [Crítica, Novem-
ber 9, 1927].
Yet in New York they were waiting for a miracle after the first adjournment. An Asso-
ciated Press dispatch said that “the Cuban master’s fans hope that their favorite would not
be defeated, based on the fact that local chess experts are not in accordance with the ones
in Buenos Aires, who said Capablanca’s position was very difficult, and stating that Capa-
blanca can still perform some maneuver so that the game would end in a draw.” But Alekhine
himself, despite his sparring with words with journalists, was nearly euphoric and told every-
body that 26 was his lucky number (the game began on November 26.) He recalled that in
1926 he visited Argentina, and then it was guaranteed to him the $500 deposit for the match,
and on another 26th, he received confirmation by telegram that the match would take place.
The game was resumed on Monday, November 28.
41. Rd7 Qb1+ 42. Kh2 Qb8+ 43. g3 Rf5 44. Qd4 Qe8 45. Rd5 Rf3 46. h4 Qh8
47. Qb6 Qa1 48. Kg2 Rf6 49. Qd4 Q×d4 If 49. ... Qa2 50. Q×f6 Q×d5+ 51. Qf3 Qa2
52. Qa8 winning. 50. R×d4 Kg7 51. a5 Ra6 52. Rd5 Rf6 53. Rd4 Ra6 54. Ra4 Kf6 55. Kf3
Ke5 56. Ke3 h5 57. Kd3 Kd5 58. Kc3 Kc5 59. Ra2 Kb5
wDwDwDwD 60. Kb3 Kc5 61. Kc3 Kb5 62. Kd4 Rd6+ 63. Ke5 Re6+
DwDwDRDw 64. Kf4 Ka6 65. Kg5 Re5+ 66. Kh6 Rf5 67. f4 Quicker was
wDkDwDwD 67. Kg7 Rf3 68. Kg8 Rf6 69. Kf8 Rf3 70. Kg7 Rf5 71. f4
DwDwDwDK (Alekhine). 67. ... Rc5 68. Ra3 Rc7 69. Kg7 Rd7 70. f5 g×f5
wDwDw)w) 71. Kh6 f4 If 71. ... Rd5 72. Kg5 Rc5 73. Kf6 Rd5 74. K×f7 f4
DwDwDwDw 75. g×f4 Rf5+ 76. Kg6 R×f4 77. K×h5 winning (Smyslov).
wDwDwDwD 72. g×f4 Rd5 73. Kg7 Rf5 74. Ra4 Kb5 75. Re4 Ka6 76. Kh6
DwDwDwDr R×a5 If 76. ... Ka7 77. Kg7 Ka6 78. Kg8 (Tartakower). 77. Re5
After 81. … Kc6 Ra1 78. K×h5 Rg1 79. Rg5 Rh1 80. Rf5 Kb6 81. R×f7 Kc6
(see diagram)
c
When the game was adjourned for the second time, Capablanca told Alekhine that he
was lost (according to Celaya in Crítica) but preferred to send him a note of resignation
rather than do it in front of the public. When the Cuban left the playing room and saw Mrs.
Alekhine, whose face still showed a wild uncertainty, he congratulated her for the definitive
triumph of her husband. Capablanca would repeat a similar gesture, but much less dramat-
ically, during the tournament in Moscow 1935, when he approached an overwhelmed Marta
Lasker and told her not to worry because her husband had a better position against him.
Before Capablanca reached the exit door to the street, Celaya had time to intercept the
Cuban and try to get some words from him. Capablanca’s response was terse but left no room
for doubt: “I am in an idiotic position. I am completely lost.” 82. Re7 This was the sealed move,
which was not hard to envisage. And Black resigned without resuming the game. 1–0.
Although Alekhine personally knew the intentions of the Cuban to surrender, he was very
fidgety during the second resumption. Alles Monasterio left a written picture of the moment:
On Monday, November 28 [actually Tuesday, November 29], long before the time announced to
resume the game that had been put on hold, the headquarters of the Argentine Chess Club were
filled with fans eager to witness the epilogue of that World Championship. Grandmaster
Alekhine, whose triumph was regarded as granted, was pale and gripped by an extraordinary
nervousness, which he could not overcome despite his obvious efforts. Nowhere had he stopped
more than some counted minutes. It was clear that he was waiting the arrival of his adversary
with great emotion. As the time to open the envelope containing the sealed move approached,
Dr. Alekhine, who had already anticipated it, climbed to the second floor—where awaited the
arbiter of the match, Dr. José Pérez Mendoza, the associate arbiter, Dr. Carlos Augusto Queren-
cio, his [Alekhine’s] second Dr. Daniel Delétang and the second of his rival, notary Enrique
Ibáñez, who were later joined by Dr. Molina Carranza, president of the club—and sat in his
chair in front of the adjourned position.
Not far from there, the atmosphere was relaxed in Querencio’s home, where Capablanca
resided as if nothing extraordinary was happening at that time. At least that was the thought
by the journalist from Crítica sent to interview him. When a maid let him in the house, the
reporter found the Cuban in slippers, “wearing a gray robe de chambre, newly sitting with
wet hair, the eyes still swollen from sleeping, writing slowly, and occasionally pausing for
long moments to ponder what he is writing, or rereading what he has written.” These were
the last Capablanca’s minutes as world champion. Welcoming his guest, Capablanca told
him: “Hello! You find me working. Although I am not a journalist, or even any longer the
world chess champion, I am writing an article about the match for a newspaper in New York.
Do you want to sit a minute and wait for me?” The rest of the memorable interview, by the
anonymous reporter was:
“With pleasure, master.”
“I’m an old player, I have twenty years of adventures around the world and in relation to me,
Dr. Alekhine is a new player. I am calm, despite all.”
The newly arrived, who understood he was witnessing a historic event, wrote: “The still-
champion, and he is as we write these lines, although it is just a short while until the consecra-
tion of the Moscow master, because it is 6:18 p.m., sits back and rewrites. By what we were able
to see, he writes in English, a language that is familiar to him, and in which he has published a
volume of great technical value.”
There was a poignant silence. “From time to time, you heard the touch of feminine dresses
and tiny footsteps in the hall. It is the maid. There are no noises from the street. In the office,
slightly illuminated, there seems to be, together, nothing more than a world champion and a
restless reporter from Crítica. Capablanca writes, thinks and rewrites. It is, undoubtedly, a seri-
ous topic. And so serious that in it he will justify his defeat to the eyes of the world. There is
already a mournful silence, which is prolonged. And the reporter, restless, moves in his chair.
Capablanca gets up, stretches, smiles, sits comfortably on a couch in front of the visitor, and
playing with the pen between his fingers. He questions, ‘Well, and what’?”
The reporter, who wanted to be an Alekhine of journalism, feels troubled by this sudden
“opening,” and only manages “to play¨ this question: “Are you going to send a letter to the
club?”
“Yes.”
“Could you tell us something about it?”
“This is a letter that communicates that I resign a game which long before the crucial
situation—that I have not studied—I considered lost [and with it] the world championship.
You know the background of the epistle. I reserve the exact text because I consider that before
the public shall know it, the interested party must know it. That is all I have to say in this
regard.”
After these words, master Capablanca, reclining on the sofa, biting the pen, looks at us with
slit eyes. His forehead, with those characteristic wrinkles, indicates that while he is not looking,
he is thinking something. …
“And, master? We have lost. …”
“Yes. I am very calm. People will think I did not sleep last night, and it is not so. I slept very
well. For me, losing the championship is a very natural thing. I have nothing to say, nothing to
comment, nothing to argue. Everything is fine. The man [Alekhine] has earned it, he has played
better. And now he is the champion. There is nothing more to say”19 [Crítica, November 29,
1927].
When the letter arrived at the Club, according to Alles Monasterio, José Vázquez, the
club’s administrative assistant, entered the room and gave Querencio the envelope addressed
to Alekhine, with the clear and unmistakable handwriting of Capablanca. Doctor Querencio
approached the table and Dr. Alekhine, standing, received the envelope. Inside there was a
letter from Capablanca, written in French, which read:
Buenos Aires, November 29, 1927
Dear Dr. Alekhine:
I resign the game. You, therefore, are the world champion and I congratulate you on your suc-
cess.
My compliments to madame Alekhine.
Cordially yours.
J.R. Capablanca20
The match, as Znosko-Borovsky predicted, lasted exactly 34 games. For several days,
both Molina Carranza and the directors of the club harbored hopes of performing a public
closing ceremony, as Casino de la Playa wanted in vain to celebrate in 1921. But again, Capa-
blanca refused, and explained in writing to Carranza the reason for his attitude.
In his summary of the match, Hübner said that Capablanca was strategically superior
in the understanding of new positions that emerged in the openings, such as in games
3, 7, 11, 17, 20 and 27. But “by accepting to continually reel off again and again the same
variations, he deprived himself of his most important chess trump card,” which according
to the German grandmaster was “his superiority over Alekhine in a better understanding
of the strategic demands of the conduct of the game.” According to the analysis of Hübner,
Capablanca should have obtained a score of three wins and three draws from game 27
through 32.
At the end of the match, Alekhine promised a rematch in preference to any other chal-
lenge, provided that it was played with the same conditions as the one that had just ended.
But the new world champion knew very well how close he had been to losing. It is not unrea-
sonable to infer that his understanding of the danger he had encountered was the reason
why he did not offer the Cuban the opportunity of a rematch. All his subsequent “fury”
seems rather an elaborate charade.
Capablanca never received the opportunity he gave Alekhine. It was one of the most
famous chess contests never played.
14. The Eternal Challenger
The whereabouts of Capablanca for a while after his dethronement remains a mystery.
After his resignation letter, his delay in leaving Buenos Aires—not until January 7,
1928—is difficult to explain. There are different theories about his behavior. The simplest
explanation is that, after his defeat, profoundly embarrassed, he did not want to show up in
his own country. Another possibility could be that, after the end of the match, the Argentine
Chess Club did not have at hand the funds to fulfill its financial agreement with Alekhine
and Capablanca; however, the Argentinian press reported that those obligations were satisfied
on December 8, 1927. One popular bit of gossip at the time was Capablanca did not want
to part from a new love he had found in Buenos Aires, without mentioning her by name.
Another theory, the fourth, was that Capablanca, being a member of the Cuban diplomatic
corps, was instructed to stay in Argentina as part of the task force that prepared the invitations
for the Pan-American Conference, which took place in Havana in February of 1928 and was
attended by leaders from all over Latin America, and even the United States.
Before leaving Argentina, Capablanca denied having made the statements published
on November 29 by Buenos Aires’s La Prensa, where Ellerman quoted him as saying that he
found playing billiards or dominoes more interesting than playing chess. But, on November
30, 1927, Crítica published another article on chess written by the now ex-champion which
sparked the indignation of many chess lovers at the very moment that Capablanca least
needed it. It was a piece written under the influence of the emotional imbalance brought
about by his defeat:
We are especially interested in regard to our supposed “lack of love for chess.” In fact, we do not
feel the kind of love most players have for chess, but that is mainly because, since long ago, the
game has no secret of any sort for us, and because, for years, we have felt that chess needs to
expand so the imagination has a greater field of action, and to make steeper the mastering of its
technical part, which is purely mechanical in nature and within reach of any individual who
wants and can commit it to memory, and, therefore, without much merit.… To devote myself
exclusively to chess; to stay always on top of what is going on in the world concerning chess;
constantly studying, and, at the same time, investigating on my own—all that I simply cannot
fathom. This, in our opinion, can only be done for a short time, and in our leisure time.
No less surprising for the readers was to learn that Capablanca came to be world champion
“forced by circumstances,” since according to him “there was no need, on our part, to impose
on ourselves great sacrifices.” In a nutshell: it was not exactly a model of public relations. On
the other hand, it did not conform to reality. For one, it is enough to remember his repeated
trips from Cuba to The Netherlands in 1920 to convince Emanuel Lasker to face off
351
“Hey Macario! Some have so much, others so little. That must be a victim of the cyclone, and
yet we have not been able to raise our hut.” “No way! That’s Capablanca, who has returned from
Buenos Aires with lots of tablas.” Cuban newspapers satirized the number of draws (more word-
play: in some Spanish speaking countries, as Cuba, the word for “draw” is empate or tablas, but
tablas also means “boards”) during the match in Buenos Aires, as shown in this cartoon published
in one of the Havana newspapers (exact name and date unknown) after a hurricane caused damage
in several places on the island.
with him at the world championship. Such statements, however, were clear indications that
there were, in the personality of the Cuban master, serious emotional and psychological con-
flicts with respect to the role that chess played in his life.
Equally unfortunate were his conclusions about the outcome of the Buenos Aires match
in his final report for the New York Times (November 30, 1927), where, although he com-
plimented his rival on his victory, describing his game as “well rounded and of even tone
throughout. His playing in all departments is of a high order,” but nevertheless adding, “with-
out showing any salient features.”
While in Buenos Aires, the former world champion granted a candid interview that
was published in El Mundo of Havana on December 28. There Capablanca conceded he
had been in decline since 1917, because “my general infallibility in judging positions has dis-
appeared.” It was not usual for a chess master of such high class to recognize that his skills
were in decline, but he frankly admitted that this was what had happened. He summed up
the match in just few phrases: “(a) Now I know more about chess. I know more secrets about
the technique of the game … but I play worse than before; (b) at present it is really hard for
me to have to be enslaved for five hours in front of a chessboard engaged in intense mental
effort which in reality brings me no great personal satisfaction; (c) each year, or rather each
day, diminishes my interest in the game.” And about why he lost, he said: “On several occa-
sions I missed opportunities to win and only drew. I committed serious mistakes and suffered
a series of inexplicable instances of forgetfulness in some variations I had been considering.”
As the New York Times aptly commented (February 5, 1928), “Like Dempsey in
pugilism, Capablanca always has been an extremely colorful figure. … When Capablanca
speaks he invariably splits the chess world squarely in the middle. Half stand ready to agree
with him to the last, the other half disagrees with him just as violently.”
Capablanca’s comments dominated the information published about him throughout
the world after he left Buenos Aires for Rio de Janeiro, where the Cuban master ascertained
that his fall from Olympus had repercussions even in the most banal everyday events. When
he disembarked from the vessel Alcantara in Rio de Janeiro, a zealous health inspector denied
him entry if he did not get vaccinated first. The former world champion was able to avoid
the daunting needle thanks to the intercession of Octávio Mangabeira, minister of foreign
affairs of Brazil, who heard about the customs incident and ordered that the Cuban master
be admitted to the country without the jab.1
On January 23, Capablanca traveled from Río de Janeiro to New York aboard the
Voltaire,2 which on February 8 found a breach in the dense fog around the Verrazano Narrows,
behind which lies the isle of Manhattan. That stroke of luck allowed the Voltaire to move
inside the bay before the Berengaria, among whose passengers was the Polish master Akiva
Rubinstein, traveling to America for the first and only time in his life, in the company of his
wife.3 A few days later, Capablanca paid Rubinstein a courtesy call at the Majestic Hotel.
With Rubinstein and Marshall in New York, plus the possibility of a quick trip back by
Capablanca from Havana, Norbert Lederer tried to arrange a small tournament in April and
repeat the 1926 experience of Lake Hopatcong, but, not counting Capablanca’s fees, both
the American and the Polish players asked for more money than Lederer was able to pay
them for their participation. Thus the only opportunity to see Rubinstein play in a tourna-
ment on the west side of the Atlantic was missed.
Capablanca’s clarifications upon disembarking did not completely redeem him from the
unpleasant impression left by what he had written in Buenos Aires, or his supposed interview
with Ellerman. To the journalists waiting for him at the Alamac Hotel, he said: “It is simply
ridiculous that I prefer any other game to chess. I consider chess so far superior there is no
comparison” (New York Times, February 9, 1928). Also in New York, his private life came
under the spotlight when General Carlos García, son of Calixto García, hero of the Cuban
independence wars, injudiciously commented that, for Capablanca, “the conditions in Buenos
Aires, as well as in his home in Havana, were decidedly unfavorable for him.”4 García hit a raw
nerve. Capablanca had been away from his wife and children for seven months, from the third
week of July until the third week of February. It had been a long separation, perhaps a hard
one to swallow for his wife Gloria, although at the time she had met him, the Cuban master
was already leading the life of a globetrotter. Since no traces of their correspondence or other
signs of possible marital differences have survived, García’s comments are the only clues that
allow us to conjecture about conflicts between the Capablancas in late 1927 and early 1928.
The Governor Cobb weighed anchor on the morning of February 22 from the Stock Island
Quay in Key West. By 3:00 p.m., it was already within sight of the Morro Castle, but this time
there were no fireworks, no vessels full of vociferous people to escort it, and no cheering crowds
waiting for the ferry at the bay mouth. Nevertheless, a considerable group of people gathered
at the docks of the “Muelle del Arsenal” (Arsenal Docks) to receive him. It was a great relief
to Capablanca to see the warm tribute of his fellow countrymen. As soon as he was surrounded
by the warm presence of his old friends, members of his family, and his loyal fans, he cheered
up and announced: “Tomorrow, at five in the afternoon, I will receive in my Buenavista
house the people of the press, to whom I want to make some statements of general interest.”
The following day, during the press conference, the attendees did not notice any tensions
among the Capablanca family, for besides his wife Gloria and their children Tuto ( José Raúl
Jr.) and Tita (Gloria de los Ángeles), the ex–world champion was flanked by his brothers Salvador
Tadeo and Ramiro. Offering some comments in regard to the outcome of the world cham-
pionship, he suggested that it was little more than a temporary setback, like his having
achieved only second place in St. Petersburg 1914 and New York 1924, or third place in Moscow
1925. He also appeared to suggest that he had suffered not from illness, but from some unspec-
ified malaise during the tournament: “I lost, and that’s that. I wouldn’t try to convince anybody
saying that I had a headache or some other body discomfort. Those excuses are made by bad
losers.” Still, he added, “I feel fully confident that I shall regain my title. A lot of peace and quiet,
some exercise, and a little cold weather, and I shall be in the tiptop shape I was in February-
March of 1927, when I played the sexangular tournament in New York” (Diario de la Marina,
February 22, 1928, page 17). Such optimistic reaction was directly contrasted with his somber
declarations in Buenos Aires after the match when he said: “Perhaps I shall play another
match with Dr. Alekhine, but I would not venture to give an assurance in this respect, since I
do not know what my state of mind will be” (Crítica, December 30, 1927). The change of
scenery gave him a new strength, no doubt about it, but from now on the fate of a return
match was not in his hands.
It was noted the way he mentioned his plans to “regain my title,” as if it were his personal
property, an attitude he never dropped and one that made Alekhine sneer and respond that
it would be better for him to become accustomed to the fact that the title was not his any-
more. It crossed the minds of many people that, if chess was not important enough to Capa-
blanca for him to devote to it his full attention, then why would he bother to start on the
rocky way back to regain something that gave him so little incentive? But Capablanca had
to reiterate his aspirations to regain “his” title to be able to secure adequate financial backup
for his challenge. For that reason, the Cuban master showed signs at the press conference
that he was seriously planning a return match, and soon. But his rival did not share this haste
and had different plans for the future.
Also worth noting is his statement that he needed “a little cold weather” after leaving
Buenos Aires at the onset of the oppressive Argentinian summer. Capablanca was not aware
(and perhaps never learned) that cold weather was actually more harmful than beneficial to
him, due to the vasoconstrictive effects of low temperatures, which caused an increase in his
blood pressure, according to Dr. Orlando Hernández-Meilán, whose study of Capablanca’s
illness and death forms Appendix II. That afternoon, though, Capablanca dedicated
more time to explaining that the comments attributed to him in the Buenos Aires La Prensa
of November 29, where he had supposedly said that he found billiards or dominoes more
interesting than chess, were bogus. However, the same people who criticized Capablanca
for his supposed “lack of love” for chess were willing to overlook the fact that Alekhine,
during an event in his honor held in Paris on February 12, 1928, had poked fun at those who
had said that obtaining the world title had been for him the achievement of his lifelong
dream. “Thank goodness, the dream of my life goes beyond the sixty-four squares of the
game.”5
Meanwhile, the Dutch lawyer Alexander Rueb, president of FIDE (Fédération Inter-
nationale des Échecs), angered Capablanca by asking the U.S. Chess Federation to suspend
all attempts to organize a return match between Alekhine and Capablanca until after
the summer meeting of FIDE in The Hague. Rueb’s meddling probably triggered the
Cuban master’s short fuse. Capablanca wrote Rueb a letter dated February 10 explaining
his opinions about future world championships. Capablanca, however, did not clarify that
those changes proposed by him would have taken place after his second encounter with
Alekhine.
Essentially, Capablanca recommended that the “future” matches for the world cham-
pionship be limited to 16 games. In the event that both players ended with an equal number
of points, he proposed that the match should be considered a draw and the champion should
retain his title.6 In the first paragraph of his letter to Rueb, Capablanca said that he was writ-
ing him following Norbert Lederer’s suggestion. However, in a letter to Alekhine dated
March 21, Lederer assured the new world champion that he had tried to prevent Capablanca
from making those recommendations to the president of FIDE before arranging the return
match with Alekhine.7 Just as Lederer feared, neither the moment chosen by Capablanca
to write to Rueb, nor the contents of his letter, were opportunely chosen. But sometimes
the Cuban master did not weigh the repercussions of his actions as he ought to have, nor
listen to counsel from his friends, unless he had specifically asked for it. Lederer attributed
to Capablanca’s arrogance the wrong choice to ignore such warnings, according to his letter
to Alekhine.
An explosive passage of the letter to Rueb read: “Without a limit to the number of
games it is quite possible that the match may never be finished, or that it may last so long as
to make the result merely dependent on the physical and mental endurance of the players.
In other words it would depend on who would be exhausted first, and not on who was the
better player.” Although this was a logical argument based on his Buenos Aires experience,
Capablanca hinted that exhaustion had been one of the reasons for his defeat. He should
have understood that this was going to enrage Alekhine, the same way that Lasker had enraged
him in 1921 when the German tried to justify his failure in Havana by blaming it on his lack
of energy as a consequence of the hot weather.
From a historical point of view, Capablanca’s argument proved to be prophetic. At the
first Karpov–Kasparov match for the world championship, which started September 19,
1984, and ended February 15, 1985, after 48 games, with spells of 17 and 14 consecutive
draws, there was neither victor nor vanquished.
Alekhine’s response to Capablanca was thunderous. The Russian-French master replied,
summing up all I have said, after the match was over I made clear to you that I was willing to
play you again only on strictly the same conditions as the first time. You told me that you quite
agree with this. Now you have evidently changed your mind, and are endeavoring to obtain on
your own, modification of the rules of the Championship Matches.
You do not seem to know me very well if you can imagine that anything could induce me to
give up what I consider fair and sportsmanship.
If you wish to play a return match with me, you will have to submit to the rules that you fixed
yourself, and according to which the first match was played.
I won six games from you in fair play and I shall only recognize the superiority (from you or
another) who will also win six games from me....
This open letter to Capablanca, dated February 29, 1928, in Paris, was published that
year in the March edition of the American Chess Bulletin. This launched a four-year epistolary
exchange that, between 1931 and 1932, turned frankly hostile. Afterward, they started com-
municating only through intermediaries. It can be deduced from this correspondence that
the overwrought tone and the accusations in the press were not started by Capablanca, who,
as he wrote to Lederer, had to watch his words as well as his actions in his role as a diplo-
mat.
It is also true that Capablanca offered his opinion to Rueb in an unwise, badly timed
move, but Alekhine assumed the matter was a personal offense. In an interview for the Ger-
man magazine Deutsche Schachblatter, published in February 1929, Alekhine said that Capa-
blanca had accused him of unscrupulousness. This, however, cannot be found anywhere in
the known correspondence between them, nor can it be seen in any press information
reviewed by this or other authors. Therefore, if Lasker used in 1911 the word unfair as a pre-
text to sever ties to Capablanca, now Alekhine had handy the word unscrupulousness to
hinder the negotiations for the return match. When Capablanca learned of Alekhine’s reac-
tion, he was surprised. In a letter to Lederer dated March 31, 1928, he wrote: “See what an
absurd interpretation he has given to my letter to Rueb.”8 In the same letter to Lederer, Capa-
blanca admitted that he “must answer Alekhine in the most measured tone in order to avoid
a public quarreling through the press.” Capablanca clearly emphasized in the letter that “the
main thing is to avoid trouble and have the return match played. But from that moment on,
things took a turn for the worse. Capablanca’s gallant attitude also changed. In the letter
was evidence that he was waiting his turn to get even: “Then if I beat him there will be
plenty of time to put him where he belongs.”
While still in Havana, Capablanca received invitations to participate in two tourna-
ments in Germany: one in Bad Kissingen and another, with the word sent by Jacques Mieses,
for a double-round tournament in Berlin. With Mieses, Capablanca also arranged a simul-
taneous session with no more than 30 opponents for a fee of 500 German marks, a little
more than $100 at the time (about $1,400 in 2015).9 But in a letter to Mieses dated June 28,
sent from Havana’s Union Club, Capablanca set a condition to participate (reflecting an old
personal antipathy): “I must however make one condition and that is that [the Serbian Boris]
Kostić shall not play.” Such petty private wars put the tournament organizers into a serious
moral predicament, although, when faced with such demands, they always gave in to the
wishes of the leading players. In just a few years, Capablanca would learn firsthand the harm-
ful effects of such precedents.
Hoping to arrange the return match in 1929, Capablanca departed (without his family)
for Key West on the ferry Cuba on July 14, 1928. The Cuban Ministry of State facilitated
the trip by sending him on a diplomatic mission to Berlin.10 He arrived in New York by train
two days later and boarded the ship Mauretania towards Europe on July 25. Interviewed by
Helms in regards to Alekhine’s accusations that he pretended to change the world champi-
onship rules, he stated: “My suggestion to President Rueb, intending to modify the rules,
was with reference to other future matches and not mine, because as a matter of personal sat-
isfaction, if I am to regain my title, I would like to do it under exactly the same conditions
under which I lost it” (American Chess Bulletin, July-August, 1928, page 108, italics added).
Another controversy troubled Capablanca in the months following his defeat, this one
related to the chess reforms, which divided the amateur players, who did not understand the
ultimate goal of tweaking a game that was already so complicated for them. While some well
known figures such as C.S. Howell, regular contributor to the American Chess Bulletin, wel-
comed those changes by assuring that “all existing opening analysis would become useless
and go into the discard, or the large board would give scope for greater combination possi-
bilities,” others criticized the intentions of the Cuban master as a sort of “after me, the deluge”
position. Such a storm was unleashed because of Capablanca’s assertion that there were some
things that should be reviewed, not even at that time, but half a century later. Alekhine in
an interview for the British newspaper Evening Standard (date not available) berated his
rival: “If chess is too easy for him, how did he come to lose?” Another one who was harsh
in his criticisms was Emanuel Lasker, in a piece published in the Manchester Guardian on
December 31, 1928, where he described Capablanca’s proposals as “cheap and inartistic.”
When Capablanca started the Bad Kissingen tournament, some 150 kilometers from
Nürnberg, Germany, on August 12, 1928, his main goal was to test his mental faculties. His-
tory remembers dramatic cases such as that of Steinitz, who never fully recovered after being
defeated by Lasker. Bad Kissingen was a strong competition with almost all of the old guard
there. In addition to Capablanca, also playing were Bogoljubow, Rubinstein, Marshall,
Mieses, Nimzowitsch, Réti, Spielmann, and Tartakower. And so did Euwe, who was already
27 years old.
In the very first round, Capablanca (White) had to confront one of Tartakower’s endless
gambits, this time the so-called Budapest. It was a game full of emotions and tactical errors
on both sides. Almost certainly on purpose, Capablanca did not take advantage of the chance
to win a piece in his move 8, possibly because he thought that it was not necessary to go into
such complications to win. It was his first game as a former world champion and everyone
was surely looking at him. After move 16, by which time neither had played his best, things
went down for the Polish-French master in a rook and opposite-colored bishops ending, but
with two fewer pawns.
Capablanca–Savielly S. Tartakower [A52]

1st Round, Bad Kissingen, 12 August 1928
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e5 3. d×e5 Ng4 4. e4 d6 Nowadays the main variation is 4. ... N×e5
5. f4 Nec6 6. Be3 Bb4+ 7. Nc3 (if 7. Nd2 Qe7 8. a3 Q×e4 [worth considering is 8. ... Bc5
9. B×c5 Q×c5 with an even game] 9. Kf2 B×d2 10. Q×d2 0–0 11. Bd3 Qe7 12. Nf3 d6
13. Rhe1 Nd7 14. Bd4 Qd8 15. Bc3 and White is better) 7. ... 0–0 8. Bd3 B×c3+ 9. b×c3
Qe7 10. Nf3 Na6 11. 0–0 Nc5 12. Bc2 N×e4 13. Re1 and White is better. 5. e×d6 B×d6
6. Be2 f5 7. e×f5 Qe7? Necessary was 7. ... Ne5 but White is better after 8. Nf3 Nbc6 9. N×e5
N×e5 10. Nc3 B×f5 11. Be3 8. Nf3 White wins a piece after 8. c5 B×c5 9. Qa4+ Nc6
10. Q×g4 B×f5 (10... Nd4 11. Qh5+ Kf8 12. f6 g×f6 13. Bh6+
with a decisive advantage) 11. Q×f5 Rf8 12. Qg4 B×f2+ 13. Kd1 wDk4wDw4
with a decisive advantage. 8. ... B×f5 9. Bg5 Nf6 9. ... Qf7? 10. c5 0pDwDqDp
Be7 11. B×e7 (if 11. h3 Nf6 12. Ne5 Qe6 with equal opportunities wDpgw0wD
according to Tartakower, but now White can play 13. Bf4 B×b1 DwDNDbDw
14. R×b1 Nbd7 15. N×d7 0–0–0 16. 0–0 R×d7 17. Qc2 with wDP!wDwD
advantage) 11. ... Q×e7 12. Qd5 Be4? 13. Qh5+. 10. Nc3 Nc6 DwDwDwDw
11. Nd5 Qf7 12. 0–0 0–0–0 13. Nd4! N×d4 14. Q×d4 c6 If P)wDB)P)
14. ... N×d5 15. c×d5 Rde8 16. Bb5 Bd7 17. B×d7+ Q×d7 $wDwDRIw
18. Q×a7 winning. 15. B×f6 g×f6 (see diagram) After 15. … g×f6
16. Q×f6 Better is 16. Q×a7 c×d5 17. c×d5 Bb8 (or 17. ... Rdg8 18. Rad1 Kd7 19. Rfe1
winning) 18. Rac1+ Kd7 19. Qe3 Rc8 20. Bb5+ Kd8 21. Qb6+ Bc7 22. R×c7! winning.
16. ... Q×f6 Better is 16. ... Qg6! and if 17. g4 (if 17. Q×g6 h×g6 18. g4 B×h2+ 19. Kg2 Be4+
20. f3 c×d5 21. f×e4 d×e4 and Black is better) 17. ... Be6 18. Rac1 B×d5 19. Q×g6 h×g6
20. c×d5 B×h2+ 21. Kg2 R×d5 with an even game. 17. N×f6 Be5 18. Bg4! B×f6 Maybe
better is 18. ... B×g4 19. N×g4 B×b2 20. Rad1 and White is only a little better. 19. B×f5+
Kc7 Better is 19. ... Kb8 20. Rad1 R×d1 21. R×d1 B×b2 22. Rd7 h6 (Tartakower). But
White is winning after 23. g4 Rg8 24. Kg2 Rg7 25. Rd2 Bf6 26. f4 20. Rad1 B×b2 21. R×d8
R×d8 22. B×h7 Rd4 23. g3 R×c4 24. h4 b5 25. Kg2 a5 26. h5 Bg7 27. f4 Bh6 28. Re1
Ra4 29. Bg8 Rd4 30. Re7+ Rd7 If 30. ... Kd8 31. Re6 winning. 31. R×d7+ K×d7 32. Kf3
c5 33. g4 c4 34. g5 Bf8 If 34. ... Bg7 35. h6 Bf8 36. f5 c3 37. Bb3 Ke8 38. f6 winning. 35. h6
a4 36. f5 Kc6 37. h7 Bg7 38. f6 c3 39. Ke2 Or 39. f×g7 c2 40. Bd5+ Kc7 41. g8=Q c1Q
42. Qf7+ Kb6 43. Qe6+ Ka5 44. h8=Q winning. 39. ... Bh8 40. f7 Black resigned. 1–0.
Capablanca suffered his only defeat in the sixth round, and with the White pieces, at
the hands of Spielmann, in a game that was the only win for the Austrian player in the tour-
nament. In his game against Yates in round eight, Capablanca opened with 1. e4 for the first
time since his defeat against Alekhine in the first game of their 1927 match. As Alekhine
said, one of the pleasant surprises that he received in Buenos Aires was the Cuban non-use
of the king’s pawn opening, except in the initial game. Alekhine was sure that it was not the
psychology of the defeat that induced the Cuban not to play 1. e4 again in the march. Maybe
Capablance felt 1. d4 was a move less prone to surprises in the opening, or just as a super-
stitious person considered it inauspicious to reuse the king’s pawn opening. Alekhine in
Crítica (November 29, 1927) confessed:
When I arrived in Buenos Aires, I had no idea to play the Orthodox Defense against the Queen’s
Gambit but I did it later to imitate Capablance and to not suggest to him a new idea for the opening
that the champion would surely use against me. Since I defeated him, I have to believe that I
am more profound than Capablanca. Although my opponent surpasses me in the prodigious
speed of the use of his mind, it was a good tactic to resort to known openings, in order to prevent,
in the jungle of the combinations, when I was pressed by time, Capa’s using the greater agility
of his brain. My plan was to induce him to travel the most known roads. Without doubt 1. e4
is an excellent move to open the game, but I have never used it so it doesn’t occur to Capa to
imitate me.
Capablanca–Frederick D. Yates [A31]

8th Round, Bad Kissingen, 20 August 1928
1. e4 c5 2. Ne2 d6 3. d4 c×d4 4. N×d4 g6 5. c4 Bg7 6. Nc3 Nf6 7. Be2 0–0 8. 0–0
Nbd7 Nowadays the normal move is 8. ... Nc6 9. Be3 Nc5 10. f3 Bd7 11. Qd2 Rc8 12. Rfd1
a6 13. Rac1 Ne6 14. b3 Nh5 Or 14. ... N×d4 15. B×d4 Bc6 16. b4
b6 17. Qe3 Nd7 18. B×g7 K×g7 19. Qd4+ Kg8 20. f4 with a big w1wDrgkD
advantage for White. 15. N×e6 B×e6 16. Na4 Rc6 17. f4 Nf6 Dw4wDpDp
18. Bf3 Ng4 19. e5! N×e3 20. Q×e3 Rc7 21. c5 Qb8 If 21. ... d5 pHw$bDpD
22. Nb6 winning. 22. e×d6 e×d6 23. R×d6 But not 23. c×d6 Dp)wDwDw
R×c1 24. R×c1 (if 24. Q×c1 Rd8 25. Qd2 Bf8 with an even wDwDw)wD
game) 24. ... Rd8 with an even game. 23. ... Re8 24. Qd2 Better DPDwDBDw
seems 24. Qf2 24. ... b5 Black could play 24. ... Bf8 25. Rd3 Bf5 PDw!wDP)
26. Rd4 Bg7 27. Nb6 B×d4+ 28. Q×d4 Be6 with an even game. Dw$wDwIw
25. Nb6 Bf8 (see diagram) After 25. … Bf8
Bad Kissingen 1928

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
1 Bogoljubow, Efim D. • 0 ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 ½ 8
2 Capablanca, José R. 1 • ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 0 ½ 1 7
3 Euwe, Max ½ ½ • 1 ½ 1 0 1 0 ½ ½ 1 61⁄2 34.75
4 Rubinstein, Akiva K. 0 ½ 0 • 1 ½ 1 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 61⁄2 32.00
5 Nimzowitsch, Aron ½ ½ ½ 0 • ½ ½ 0 ½ 1 1 1 6
6 Réti, Richard 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ • 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ 51⁄2
7 Tartakower, Savielly S. ½ 0 1 0 ½ 0 • 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 5 26.75
8 Marshall, Frank J. 0 ½ 0 0 1 ½ 0 • 1 1 ½ ½ 5 25.25
9 Yates, Frederick D. 0 0 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 • ½ ½ 1 5 25.25
10 Spielmann, Rudolf 0 1 ½ ½ 0 ½ ½ 0 ½ • ½ ½ 41⁄2
11 Tarrasch, Siegbert 0 ½ ½ ½ 0 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ • ½ 4
12 Mieses, Jacques ½ 0 0 0 0 ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ ½ • 3
26. Nd5! R×c5 Or 26. ... B×d6 27. Nf6+ Kg7 28. N×e8+ Q×e8 29. Q×d6 with a winning
position. 27. Nf6+ Kh8 28. N×e8 R×c1+ 29. Q×c1 Q×e8 If 29. ... B×d6 30. Qc3+ winning.
30. R×a6 Qe7 31. Qc3+ Kg8 If 31. ... f6 32. Qe3 winning. 32. Qe5 b4 33. Be4 Qd8 34. h3
B×h3 35. Bd5! If 35. g×h3? Qd1+ 36. Kf2 Qd2+ 37. Kf3 Qd1+ 38. Kf2 (if 38. Ke3? Bc5+
winning) 38. ... Qd2+ and draw. 35. ... Qh4 36. Qf6 Bc5+ 37. Kh2 Black resigned. 1–0.
After beating Yates, Capablanca faced Bogoljubow in round nine. As at that time the
Ukrainian-German master had a tournament advantage of a point and a half over the Cuban,
the most natural outcome was to search for a draw, which Bogoljubow tried to do through
the exchange of pieces.
Efim D. Bogoljubow–Capablanca [E12]

9th Round, Bad Kissingen, 22 August 1928
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nf3 b6 4. Nc3 Bb7 5. Bg5 Be7 6. e3 Ne4 7. B×e7 Q×e7 8. N×e4
Or 8. Bd3 N×c3 9. b×c3 d6 10. e4 Nd7 11. 0–0 e5 12. Nd2 c5 13. d5 g5 14. a4 a5 15. Nb1
h5 16. Na3 0–0–0 17. Rb1 Kc7 18. Rb2 Ba6 19. Nc2 f5 20. f3 (better seems 20. e×f5 and if
20. ... e4 21. Re1) 20. ... f4 21. Na3 Rdg8 with a little advantage for Black. Vilardebo–Capa-
blanca, Barcelona 1929. 8. ... B×e4 9. Nd2 Or 9. Be2 0–0 10. 0–0 c5 11. Nd2 Bb7 12. Bf3
d6 13. B×b7 Q×b7 with an even game. Spassky–Tal, Bugojno 1984. 9. ... Bb7 10. Be2 Qg5
11. Bf3 B×f3 12. Q×f3 Nc6 13. Qg3 More enterprising is 13. 0–0 0–0 14. Ne4 Qg6 15. Rfd1
f5 16. Nc3 a6 17 .b3 13. ... Q×g3 14. h×g3 Ke7 15. g4 h6! 16. a3 Better seems 16. Ke2 16. ...
a6 17. Ke2 Rhb8 18. Ne4 b5 19. c5 d5 20. c×d6+ c×d6 21. f4
Better seems 21. Rhc1 Kd7 22. g5 21. ... Rc8 22. f5 Better seems wDrDwDwD
22. Rac1 Na5 23. Nd2 22. ... Na5 23. Kd3 If 23. Rac1 Nb3 DwDwDw0w
24. R×c8 R×c8 25. f×e6 f×e6 26. Nc3 Na5 27. Rc1 Nc4 28. Nd1 pDrDpiwD
Kd7 and Black is better. 23. ... Nc4 24. Rab1 Better seems 24. b3 DpDpDw0w
Na5 25. f×e6 f×e6 26. Rab1. 24. ... d5 25. Nc3 If 25. Nc5 e5 wDn)wDwD
26. a4 b×a4 27. N×a4 Rab8 28. b3 e4+ 29. Ke2 Nb6 30. Nc5 )wDK)wDR
Nd7 and Black is better. 25. ... Rc6 26. f×e6 f×e6 Black has a w)wDNDPD
winning position. 27. g5 h×g5 28. Rh5 Kf6 29. Rh3 Rac8 DRDwDwDw
30. Ne2 (see diagram) After 30. Ne2
30. ... a5! 31. Rf3+ If 31. Rf1+ Kg6 32. Rb1 e5 33. d×e5 N×e5+ 34. Kd2 Rc2+ 35. Kd1
Nd3 winning. 31. ... Kg6 32. g4 Nd6 Maybe stronger is 32. ... e5! 33. Nc3 b4 34. a×b4
a×b4 35. Nd1 If 35. Na2 Ne4 36. N×b4 Rc4 37. Na2 Rc2 38. Rd1 R×b2 39. Nc1 Rc3 mate.
35. ... Rc2! 36. Rf2 b3 37. Ra1 Ne4 38. Re2 R8c6 39. Rb1 If 39. Ra3 Rc1 40. Nf2 R6c3+
41. b×c3 R×c3 mate. 39. ... e5 40. Ra1 R6c4 41. Ra5 Nc5+ White resigned. If 42. d×c5 e4
mate. 0–1.
This was the only occasion in which Capablanca won two consecutive games in Bad
Kissingen. In Chess Review (December 1967, pages 362–363) under the title of “My Personal
Recollections of Capablanca,” Hans Kmoch wrote: “I’ll relate the talmudistic solution which
Capablanca found at the Kissingen Tournament, 1928, when he adjourned his game in a
favorable position against Bogoljubow. He called me to his room and let me analyze the
position while he himself only watched. From time to time, he said, ‘No.’ Then I had to
show him another variation, just like a salesman with his merchandise. Finally, Capablanca
suddenly exclaimed: ‘That’s it. That’s the old style!’ He won the game.”
A tournament with 12 participants was not the best stage for the Cuban to show his
qualities, especially for a master who always started somewhat cold in the competition. This
was shown by the result of 1 defeat and 6 draws in 11 games, although it is worth mentioning
that the draws against Nimzowitsch and Euwe were not precisely grandmaster draws. Euwe
escaped by a hair, when he found a move that was a true problem-solution in an ending that
seemed lost for him. On the other hand, the Cuban managed to save his game miraculously
against Nimzowitsch. Capablanca’s draw against Réti in the last round was also tense. For
this reason, his second place behind Bogoljubow did not seem a bad performance for him.
In a letter to Norbert Lederer dated August 29, 1928, from Berlin, the Cuban made him
know: “I’m very well satisfied because I have found out that I am yet capable of playing as
well as ever.”11
On receipt of a communication by Lederer that Alekhine had not accepted the way in
which the Cuban presented his challenge for a match, Capablanca rewrote it and sent it
again to the world champion.
Berlin, October 8, 1928.
Dr. A. Alekhine
Paris, France.
Dear Sir:
I hereby challenge you officially to a match for the Chess Championship of the world under
the accepted London World’s Championship rules of 1922.
Yours faithfully, J.R. Capablanca.
P.S. The above challenge is written to confirm Dr. Lederer’s letter of several weeks ago [italics
added], as I gather from a cable of his that you require the above written challenge. My forfeit of
five hundred dollars is in Dr. Lederer’s hands, as I believe he has notified you already.
J.R. Capablanca12
But for the chess world it was a surprise to know that in a letter dated October 12,
Alekhine responded to Capablanca that on August 29 (only nine months after having
received the letter of resignation of the Cuban in Buenos Aires), he had already accepted a
challenge from Bogoljubow for the World Championship.
Paris, October 12, 1928.

Mr. J.R. Capablanca
Legation of Cuba
Berlin, Germany
Dear Sir:
I beg leave to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of October 8, inst.
Having accepted, in principle, the challenge of E.D. Bogoljubow, under date of 29 August last,
for a match to take place in 1929, I regret that I cannot now consider the proposition of another
match for the championship.
However, I shall from now on keep your letter in mind and at the same time write to Mr.
Bogoljubow giving him three months’ time until January 25, 1929, so that he may arrange for
and give me the guarantee provided for under the rules of London 1922.
In case this guarantee should not be forthcoming, I would hold myself ready, after the above
mentioned date, to accept your challenge on the exact basis of the regulations of London
1922. In order to avoid a misunderstanding of any kind, I may add that a match between us
should not take place before the second half of 1929.
In case my match with Mr. Bogoljubow should take place and I should be fortunate enough to
retain my title (to the championship) I would then be ready to accept your challenge, after the
end of that encounter.
Please accept my distinguished salutations,
P.S. The letter from Dr. Lederer, which you mention, having no official character and which in
no way speaks of a forfeit, I see myself obliged to take into consideration the fact of your chal-
lenge solely from the date when forwarded and made, that is to say, from 8 October, inst. In so
doing, I take as a basis the precedents established by yourself during the time you were Cham-
pion, and, moreover, which I always have found to be equitable.
A. Alekhine13
In the postscript Alekhine left no doubt that the initial letter from Lederer (end of July
1928) on behalf of Capablanca was not an official document—and he was probably right.
But he never made public the full text of the document, just his interpretation of it. Alekhine
told the Reuters correspondent in Berne (Weekly Times, October 11, 1928) that the letter
was from “some of Capablanca’s friends in America,” not even mentioning Lederer by name,
and “there was nothing in the invitation to show there was any question of a meeting for the
World Championship.”
Maybe a letter from Lederer was a preliminary “be in touch” step to make clear the seriousness
of upcoming negotiations. But Lederer’s answer to the New York Times (September 24, 1928)
clearly indicates that it was more substantial than what Alekhine explained. For this reason, some
have suggested that Alekhine employed the following weeks to arrange his match against
Bogoljubow, knowing that he would receive at any time the Cuban’s challenge drafted in the
manner in which he demanded. When the New York Times (February 13, 1928) published a
notice that Alekhine had accepted the challenge of Bogoljubow, one of the most surprised was
Lederer: “When apprised of the latest news from abroad, Dr. Norbert Lederer of this city, Amer-
ican representative of José R. Capablanca, said yesterday that the action of Dr. Alekhine surprised
him greatly and he did not know what to make of it, especially in view of the fact that Dr. Alekhine
had not acknowledged receipt of Capablanca’s communication sent him fully two months ago.”
But the response of Alekhine did not catch Capablanca by surprise. In a letter of Octo-
ber 16, from Berlin, when the Cuban still did not know about the French-Russian master’s
letter which informed him of the challenge of Bogoljubow, the Cuban wrote to Lederer:
“Shall see now what he has to say.” In a premonitory way, Capablanca also informed Lederer
about his feelings on that topic, as he thought that Alekhine would try to avoid playing
against him. “I believe he will try to get out of the match.” 14 It should be noted that
Bogoljubow did not accompany his challenge with the $500 deposit, unlike the Cuban, who
did so immediately through the guaranty of Lederer. No less significant is the choice of
Bogoljubow, a master whom Alekhine even refused to compete with in tournaments, because
as he explained in a January 1927 letter to Lederer, the German-Ukrainian had offended
him. Alekhine wrote that his patience with Bogoljubow had run out. His presence in the
tournaments they played together created “an atmosphere of hate” (David DeLucia, In Memo-
riam, pages 76–77). In the same letter, Alekhine explained that he could do nothing else but
accept Bogoljubow’s challenge, because of their bad relationship, and he “had to act with
special consideration in formal matters.”
If Alekhine agreed to play in the New York 1924 tournament, it was due in part to the
appeal of Lederer (who accompanied it with a similar request of Capablanca himself ), asking
the Russian to participate for the sake of chess. However, in New York 1927, Alekhine was
adamant that he would not play if Bogoljubow was among the participants. It had later been
rumored that Alekhine played the match against Bogoljubow for a purse that was lower than
the $10,000 established in the London Rules. But as a matter of fact, these rules had not
specified that this was the minimum to play the match, but only that the champion was not
obliged to do so for a lesser figure. It is interesting to turn back in time and remember
Alekhine’s answers to Celaya about a possible rematch, which appeared in the Argentine
newspaper Crítica of November 30, 1927:
“Would you grant a rematch to Capablanca?”
“That depends exclusively on Capablanca. If he would challenge me, I would agree with greatest
pleasure to provide him with the opportunity of a rematch. Rarely have I found a more gentle and
chivalrous rival with more firmly rooted sportsmanship. You can anticipate that such conduct from
Capablanca has impressed me deeply and I will give priority to his challenge over any other master’s.”
And in the same interview, Alekhine acknowledged that outside Capablanca, “as to his
knowledge” there was not another chess player who could challenge him. But the same day,
Alekhine told the newspaper La Prensa that if there were others who challenged him, it
could be for less money. One of the essential differences in the whole affair is that when
Capablanca wrote the London Rules, they governed in the same way for all. In the hands of
Alekhine, the only one who had to adhere to them was the Cuban.
That was subsequently clear in an October 28, 1929, Capablanca’s letter to the Dutch
chess executive Dr. Gerard Oskam (Winter, Capablanca: A Compendium, page 217), explain-
ing to him how Alekhine did not respond to his challenges. In the letter, the Cuban delved
into the challenge he had sent in an open envelope to the world champion through Hans
Kmoch, whose version appeared in the Chess Review, “My Personal Recollections” article
mentioned above: “At this time,” wrote Kmoch, “Capablanca stayed in Paris and challenged
Alekhine to a return match, using myself as intermediary. I conveyed the closed letter [italics
added] to Alekhine, who kept it for about two weeks but then returned it to me, declaring
his unwillingness to accept any letter from Capablanca in this way.”
In his account of the events, Kmoch wrote that it was a sealed correspondence. According
to Capablanca, Alekhine returned the letter just because it was open. The Cuban told Oskam:
“I sent it open because I have been taught since my childhood that when you send a letter
through a friend to a third person it should not be sealed, but remain open, as the one I am
sending to you. If Alekhine does not know such fundamental principles of social etiquette
it is not my fault.” Capablanca mentioned to Oskam the text of the letter that Kmoch sent
him with the result of his unsuccessful mission: “Dear Mr. Capablanca. Immediately after
having received your letter I went to Alekhine and gave him the challenge. Alekhine read it
but asked me with indignation why the letter is open. I answered that you like to have an
assurance that he got the challenge. He meditated a little and then he gave me the letter back.”
As it can be seen, there are some differences between Kmoch’s letter and his later memoirs,
which could be attributed to the years that passed between one incident and the other. 15
After the competition in Bad Kissingen, thanks to the presence of Marshall and Capa-
blanca in Europe, Lazlo Toth, editor of the Hungarian chess magazine Magyar Sakvilag, organ-
ized a short tournament in Hungary with the help of Hans Kmoch, which was also attended
by Spielmann. In the very first round, Capablanca had the chance to repeat his thematic sac-
rifice of a bishop in e6 which he had employed against Bogoljubow in Moscow 1925.
Capablanca–Kornél Havasi [D24]

1st Round, Budapest, 21 September 1928
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nf3 d×c4 4. e4 c5 5. B×c4 c×d4 6. N×d4 Nf6 7. Nc3 a6 Or 7. ...
Bc5 8. Be3 Nbd7 9. B×e6! with a winning attack. Capablanca–Bogoljubow, Moscow
1925. 8. 0–0 Another possibility is 8. e5 Nfd7 9. Bf4 Nb6 10. Bb3 Nc6 11. N×c6 Q×d1+
12. R×d1 b×c6 with advantage for White. Flohr–Najdorf, Margate 1939. 8. ... Bc5 9. Be3
Nbd7 If 9. ... Qc7 10. Rc1 0–0 11. Na4 Ba7 12. N×e6 B×e6 13. B×e6 Nc6 14. B×a7 f×e6
15. Bc5 winning. 10. B×e6! f×e6 11. N×e6 Qa5 12. N×g7+ Quicker was 12. Nd5 Kf7 13. N×c5
N×c5 14. N×f6 K×f6 15. b4 winning. 12. ... Kf7 13. Nf5 Ne5 14. Qb3+ Kg6 15. Rac1 Bf8
16. Ne2 h5 If 16. ... N×e4 17. R×c8! 17. Rfd1 Rg8 Or 17. ... B×f5 18. e×f5+ Kh7 19. Bg5 Bg7
20. B×f6 B×f6 21. f4 Ng4 22. Qf7+ Bg7 23. Qg6+ Kg8 24. Qe6+ Kh7 25. Rd5 Qb4 26. Rd7
Rhg8 27. f6 winning. 18. Nf4+ Kh7 19. Bb6 Stronger is 19. Nd5
Nfg4 (if 19. ... N×e4 20. Rc7+ winning) 20. h3 winning. 19. ...
wDRDwgri
Qb5 20. Rc7+ Kh8 21. Q×b5 Stronger is 21. Ne7 B×e7 22. R×e7
Dp$wDwDw
Q×b3 23. a×b3 Nc6 24. Bd4 Rf8 25. N×h5 N×d4 26. N×f6 R×f6 wGwDwhwD
27. R×d4 with a winning position. 21. ... a×b5 22. Rd8 Better is DpDwDNDp
22. Nh4 Bh6 23. Nd5 Ne8 24. R×c8 R×c8 25. Ne7 Ng7 26. N×c8 wDnDPHwD
R×c8 27. g3 with a better position. 22. ... R×a2? Better is 22. ... DwDwDwDw
Bb4 23. R×g8+ K×g8 24. Nh6+ Kf8 25. f3 Nfd7 and Black can r)wDw)P)
defend this position. 23. Rd×c8 Nc4 (see diagram) DwDwDwIw
24. h3! N×b6 25. R×f8 Nfd7 Or 25. ... R×f8 26. Ng6+ Kg8 After 23. … Nc4
27. Nh6 mate. 26. Rf7 R×b2 27. Nd5 Black resigned. 1–0.
On September 27, in the game against Endré Steiner, Capablanca (Black) employed on
his fifth move what would be called later the Ruy Lopez Siesta Variation of the Steinitz
Defense Deferred. But actually, this move had been already employed by Marshall with Black
in the 14th game of his match against the Cuban in 1909!
Endré Steiner–Capablanca [C74]

6th Round, Budapest, 27 September 1928
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 d6 5. c3 f5 6. e×f5 B×f5 7. d4 The main variation
nowadays is: 7. 0–0 Bd3 8. Re1 Be7 9. Bc2 B×c2 10. Q×c2 Nf6 11. d4 e4 12. Ng5 d5 13. f3 h6
14. Nh3 0–0 15. Nd2 e×f3 16. N×f3 Qd7 17. Qg6 and White is a little better. Leko–Yusupov,
Vienna 1996. 7. ... e4 8. Bg5 Better is 8. Ng5 d5 9. f3 e3 10. f4 Nf6 11. 0–0 Bd6 12. B×e3
Ng4 13. Qd2 N×h2 14. Re1 0–0 with a complicated position. 8. ... Be7 9. Nh4 Be6 10. B×e7
Ng×e7 “It is evident that Black has the advantage, as White’s king knight is poorly placed.
The following phase is, however, very critical” (Capablanca). 11. Qh5+ g6 It is interesting
11. ... Bf7 12. Qg5 0–0 13. Nd2 d5 14. 0–0 Qd6 15. B×c6 h6 16. Nf5 N×f5 17. Q×f5 Be6 18. Qh5
Q×c6 and Black is better. 12. Qh6 Ng8 13. Qf4 “If 13. Qg7 Q×h4 14. B×c6+ [A.N.: Better
seems 14. Q×h8 0–0–0 15. Qg7 Nge7 16. g3 Qh3 17. B×c6 N×c6 18. Nd2 with an even
position] 14. ... b×c6 15. Q×h8 0–0–0 16. Na3 e3 17. 0–0–0 e2 18. Rde1 Nf6 19. Qg7 Qf4+
20. Kb1 Rg8 21. Qe7 Re8 22. Qg7 Q×f2 and White’s game is untenable” (Capablanca).
13. ... Nf6 14. Nd2 0–0 15. 0–0 “It is clear that after 15. N×e4 Nh5 16. Qg5 Rf4! White
would lose a piece” (Capablanca). 15. ... d5 16. Qg5 Nh5 17. Q×d8 N×d8 18. g3 Bh3
19. Ng2 Better seems 19. Rfe1 g5 20. Ng2 Ne6 21. Ne3 Rad8 22. Bd1 Nf6 23. f3 with an
even game. 19. ... Ne6 20. Bb3 c6 21. Bd1 If 21. f4 Nhg7 22. Rfe1 Rad8 23. Ne3 g5 24. f×g5
N×g5 and Black is better. 21. ... Rae8 Interesting is 21. ... Nhg7 22. Be2 Rf7 23. a4 Raf8
24. f3 B×g2 25. K×g2 Nf5 and Black is much better. 22. B×h5 g×h5 23. f4 Better is 23. Rfe1
Bg4 24. h4 Rf6 25. Ne3 Ref8 26. N×g4 h×g4 although Black is a little better. 23. ... h4
24. Rfe1 If 24. g×h4 B×g2 25. K×g2 N×f4+ 26. Kg3 Nd3 27. R×f8+ R×f8 and Black is bet-
ter. 24. ... h×g3 25. h×g3 B×g2 “He parts with the bishop, albeit reluctantly, in order to
prevent the knight from taking up a strong blockading post at e3” (Capablanca). 26. K×g2
Re7 27. Nf1 Better is 27. Nb3 h5 28. Rh1 Ng7 29. Nc5 Kf7 30. Kf2 Kg6 although Black is
a little better. 27. ... Rg7 Black has a winning position. 28. Kh1 h5 29. c4 If 29. Re2 h4
30. g×h4 N×f4 31. Rf2 Rh7 32. Ne3 R×h4+ 33. Rh2 R×h2+ 34. K×h2 Nd3 with a winning
position. 29. ... N×d4 30. Red1 Nf3 Stronger seems 30. ... Nf5 31. c×d5 e3 32. Re1 c×d5
33. N×e3 N×g3+ 34. Kg1 R×f4 35. Ng2 Rd4 with a winning position. 31. c×d5 (see diagram)
31. ... h4 “Many annotators have claimed that 31. ... R×f4!?
wDwDw4kD should have been played here. But this claim is erroneous: while
DpDwDw4w it is true that 31. ... R×f4 is an advantageous and probably win-
pDpDwDwD ning move, it is by no means so conclusive as the quieter text. It
DwDPDwDp is worth pointing out here that inexperienced players often have
wDwDp)wD confused notions about sacrificial combinations. Such moves are
DwDwDn)w brilliant if they are the strongest available, but they are anything
P)wDwDwD
$wDRDNDK but brilliant if they are objectively inferior moves. The master,
if he is a true artist, will seek perfection rather than fireworks
After 31. c×d5 whose chief object is to lead his opponent astray. The fact is when
I played 29. ... N×d4 I was intending 31. ... R×f4. But when that
possibility actually presented itself, further analysis showed that the quieter 31. ... h4 was
actually more forcing. Let us examine the consequences of 31. ... R×f4 32. d×c6 R×g3
33. N×g3 Rh4+ 34. Kg2 Rh2+ 35. Kf1 e3 36. Rd8+ Kf7 37. Rd7+ Ke6 38. Re7+ K×e7
39. Nf5+ Ke6 40. N×e3 b×c6 41. Nd1 Rc2 and while Black should win, this line of play
cannot be considered superior to the method actually adopted by him in the game” (Capa-
blanca). Interesting is 31. ... c×d5 32. R×d5 h4 33. Kg2 Rc8 34. Kh3 Rc2 with a winning
position. 32. d6 If 32. d×c6 h×g3 33. Kg2 Nh4+ 34. Kh3 Ng6 35. N×g3 N×f4+ 36. Kh4
Rf6 37. Nh5 N×h5 32. ... h×g3 33. Kg2 Nh4+ 34. Kg1 g2 “A grievous lapse; 34. ... Nf5
would have won easily” (Capablanca). 35. Nh2 R×f4 36. Rd4! “Well played. If instead
36. d7 Rf1+ 37. R×f1 (not 37. N×f1 Nf3+ and wins) 37. ... g×f1=Q+ 38. K×f1 R×d7 and
Budapest 1928
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
1 Capablanca, José R. • ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 7
2 Marshall, Frank J. ½ • ½ 1 0 ½ ½ 1 1 1 6
3 Spielmann, Rudolf ½ ½ • ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 0 ½ 5 22.75
4 Kmoch, Hans ½ 0 ½ • 0 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 5 19.25
5 Steiner, Endré 0 1 ½ 1 • 0 1 0 ½ ½ 41⁄2 20.00
6 Vajda, Arpad ½ ½ 0 ½ 1 • 0 ½ ½ 1 41⁄2 19.00
7 Steiner, Herman 0 ½ ½ 0 0 1 • ½ 1 ½ 4 16.00
8 Havasi, Kornél 0 0 0 ½ 1 ½ ½ • ½ 1 4 14.75
9 Balla, Zoltán 0 0 1 0 ½ ½ 0 ½ • ½ 3
10 Merenyi, Lajos 0 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ • 2
wins. The phase which follows is very difficult for Black, partly because of his mistake on
move 34, partly because of Steiner’s clever play” (Capablanca). 36. ... Rd7 37. Re1 Nf5
38. Rd×e4 If 38. Re×e4 N×d4 39. R×f4 Ne2+ winning. 38. ... R×e4 39. R×e4 R×d6
40. Nf3 Rg6 41. Re5 Nd6 42. Re2 Kf8 43. R×g2 Rf6 44. Ne5 Ke7 45. Rf2 Re6 46. Nd3
Re3 47. Nf4 Nc4 48. b3 Ne5 49. Ng2 “49. Re2 Rg3+ 50. Kf2 offered better drawing
prospects” (Capablanca). 49. ... Rc3 50. Re2 Kd6 51. Kf1 Rc1+ 52. Kf2 Nd3+ 53. Ke3
Nb4 54. a3 Interesting was 54. Ke4 Ra1 55. a4 Nd5 56. Rf2 Kc5 57. Nf4 Re1+ 58. Kd3
Re3+ 59. Kc2 a5 although Black should win. 54. ... Rc3+ 55. Kd4 Rc2 56. Re1 If 56. Ke3
R×e2+ 57. K×e2 Nc2 58. Kd3 N×a3 winning. 56. ... c5+ 57. Ke4 R×g2 58. a×b4 Rg4+
59. Kd3 R×b4 60. Kc3 a5 61. Ra1 b6 62. Ra2 Kc6 63. Ra1 Kb5 64. Ra2 a4 65. b×a4+
R×a4 66. Rb2+ Rb4 67. Rh2 Rg4 White resigned. 0–1.
This time Capablanca won the tournament, but not before a protest by Marshall, who
complained that the Hungarian master Arpad Vajda (White) did not play to win against
the Cuban in the final round, accepting a draw in 14 moves. According to Marshall, this
deprived him of the chance of winning the competition in case of a defeat of the Cuban by
Vajda and a Marshall victory over Endré Steiner. As Marshall lost to Steiner, the improbable
Vajda win would not have earned him much.
In addition to the presence of Capablanca, the Berlin tournament, played on double cycle
in the Café Koenig between October 12 and 29, was attended by Nimzowitsch, Spielmann, Tar-
takower, Réti and Rubinstein. Tarrasch retired sick after the third round, according to the issue
of American Chess Bulletin of November 1928, so his brief performance was not considered offi-
cial.16 The young Czechoslovakian Salo Flohr, who witnessed the tournament and saw Capa-
blanca there for the first time, recalled later, in the issue of September 1980 of the Soviet chess
magazine 64: “I was especially staggered by his confidence.… The loss of a title of world champion
is the greatest trauma for a player, and from such a crushing defeat you rarely manage to recover.”
Flohr was so surprised with the confidence of the Cuban that he believed it was merely acting.
In the fifth round the Cuban could finally take revenge of the defeat that Rubinstein
dealt him in San Sebastián 17 years earlier.
Capablanca–Akiva K. Rubinstein [D02]

5th Round, Berlin, 15 October 1928
1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 c5 3. d×c5 e6 4. e4 B×c5 5. e×d5 A modern example is 5. Nc3 Ne7
6. Bb5+ Nbc6 7. 0–0 0–0 8. e×d5 e×d5 9. Bg5 h6 10. Bh4 a6 11. B×c6 b×c6 12. Na4 Ba7
13. c4 f6 14. c×d5 c×d5 15. Bg3 with a complicated position. Ftáčnik–Seirawan, Haninge
1990. 5. ... e×d5 6. Bb5+ Nc6 7. 0–0 Nge7 8. Nbd2 0–0 9. Nb3 Bb6 10. Re1 Better seems
10. a4 10. ... Bg4 11. Bd3 Interesting is 11. h3 Bh5 (if 11. ... B×f2+ 12. K×f2 Qb6+ 13. Be3
B×f3 14. B×b6 B×d1 15. Bc5 winning) 12. c3 Qd6 13. Be3 B×e3 14. R×e3 Rad8 with an
even position. 11. ... Ng6 12. h3 B×f3 13. Q×f3 Nce5 Better seems 13. ... Nge5 14. Qf4
N×d3 15. c×d3 a5 16. d4 Nb4 17. Re2 Re8 18. Be3 Qd7 and Black is better. 14. Qf5 N×d3
15. Q×d3 d4 A mistake. Better seems 15. ... Qf6 16. Be3 (if 16. Re2 Rae8 17. Be3 B×e3
18. R×e3 Nf4 19. Qd2 Qg6 and Black is winning) 16. ... B×e3 17. R×e3 Q×b2 18. Q×d5 b6
19. Qe4 h6 and Black is a little better. 16. Bd2 Qf6 17. Re4 Rad8 18. Rae1 Qc6 19. g3 Rfe8
20. Ba5 White can play 20. R×e8+ R×e8 21. N×d4 R×e1+ 22. B×e1 Qd7 23. Nf5 winning
a pawn. 20. ... R×e4 21. Q×e4 Nf8 Better seems 21. ... Q×e4 22. R×e4 B×a5 23. N×a5 f5
24. Re2 f4 25. Kg2 d3 26. Rd2 f×g3 27. f×g3 Ne5 with an even game. 22. Q×c6 b×c6
23. Re7 Rd5 Better is 23. ... d3 24. c×d3 R×d3 25. B×b6 a×b6 26. Rb7 Nd7 27. Kf1 g6
28. Ke2 Rd6 and White is only a little better (see diagram)
24. B×b6! a×b6 25. Rb7 Now White is winning. 25. ...
wDwDwhkD Nd7 26. Rc7 Rd6 If 26. ... c5 27. Rc8+ Nf8 28. Nd2 b5 29. b3
0wDw$p0p d3 30. c4 b×c4 31. b×c4 Rd7 32. Kg2 Ra7 (if 32... g6 33. Kf3
wgpDwDwD Re7 34. a4 f5 35. Nb3 Kf7 36. R×c5 Nd7 37. Rd5 winning )
GwDrDwDw 33. Kf3 f5 34. Ke3 winning. 27. Rc8+ Nf8 28. Nd2 c5 If 28. ...
wDw0wDwD d3 29. c×d3 R×d3 30. Nc4 b5 31. Na5 Rd2 32. N×c6 winning.
DNDwDw)P 29. Nc4 Re6 30. Rb8 Re1+ 31. Kg2 g5 32. a4 Ra1 If 32. ... Rc1
P)PDw)wD
DwDwDwIw 33. Na3 c4 34. R×b6 Ra1 35. N×c4 R×a4 36. Nd6 winning.
33. N×b6 Kg7 34. Rc8 Ne6 35. Nd7 R×a4 36. N×c5 Rb4 If
After 23. … Rd5 36. ... N×c5 37. R×c5 Rb4 38. b3 winning. 37. Nd3 Rb5 38. Kf3
h6 39. b4 h5 40. g4 h×g4+ 41. h×g4 f6 42. Rc4 Kf7 43. Nc5
Nd8 44. Nb3 Black resigned. 1–0.
In the last round, Capablanca used the Siesta Variation again, this time against Réti.
Richard Réti–Capablanca [C74]

7th Round, Berlin, 27 October 1928
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 d6 4. c3 a6 5. Ba4 f5 6. d4 f×e4 7. Ng5 Better is 7. N×e5
d×e5 8. Qh5+ Ke7 9. B×c6 (if 9. Bg5+ Nf6 10. Nd2 Qe8 11. Qh4 Kf7 12. 0–0 Dvoirys–
Vorotnikov, USSR 1982; and now Black can play 12. ... Bf5 with advantage) 9. ... b×c6
10. Bg5+ Nf6 11. d×e5 Qd5 12. Bh4 Kd7 13. Qg5 Ke6 14. e×f6 Q×g5 15. B×g5 g×f6 with
Berlin Tageblatt 1928

1 2 3 4 5 6 7
1 Capablanca, José R. • ½-½ ½-½ ½-½ 1-½ 1-1 1-1 81⁄2
2 Nimzowitsch, Aron ½-½ • 0-½ ½-½ 1-0 1-1 1-½ 7
3 Spielmann, Rudolf ½-½ 1-½ • 0-½ 1-1 0-½ ½-½ 61⁄2
4 Tartakower, Savielly S. ½-½ ½-½ 1-½ • 0-0 0-½ ½-1 51⁄2
5 Rubinstein, Akiva K. 0-½ 0-1 0-0 1-1 • 0-1 0-½ 5 29.50
6 Réti, Richard 0-0 0-0 1-½ 1-½ 1-0 • ½-½ 5 27.50
7 Marshall, Frank J. 0-0 0-½ ½-½ ½-0 1-½ ½-½ • 41⁄2
an even game. Honfi–Ciocaltea, Reggio Emilia 1966/67. 7. ... e×d4 8. N×e4 Nf6 Or 8. ...
Bf5 9. Q×d4 Qe7 10. f3 b5 11. Qd5 Bd7 12. Bb3 Nf6 and Black is better. Cirić–Suetin, Sara-
jevo 1965. 9. Bg5 Be7 10. Q×d4? Better is 10. B×f6 although after 10. ... B×f6 11. Qh5+ g6
12. Qd5 Kf8 13. Bb3 Qe7 14. 0–0 Kg7 15. Nbd2 Rf8 16. Rae1 Bf5 17. Ng3 Qd7 Black is
better. And after 10. B×c6+ b×c6 11. Q×d4 0–0 12. B×f6 B×f6
13. N×f6+ R×f6 14. 0–0 c5 15. Qd2 Rg6 Black is a little better. wDk4wDwG
10. ... b5 11. N×f6+ g×f6 12. Qd5 After 12. Qe4 d5 13. Qf3 Db0qgwDp
f×g5 14. Qh5+ Kd7 15. Bb3 Qe8 16. Qg4+ Kd8 Black has a win- pDw0w0wD
ning position. 12. ... b×a4 13. Bh6 If 13. Q×c6+ Bd7 14. Qf3 DwDwhwDw
f×g5 15. Qh5+ Kf8 16. Qh6+ Kg8 Black is winning. 13. ... Qd7 pDwDwDwD
14. 0–0 If 14. Bg7 Qe6+ 15. Q×e6 B×e6 16. B×h8 Kf7 17. B×f6 Dw)wDwDw
B×f6 and winning. 14. ... Bb7 15. Bg7 0–0–0 16. B×h8 Ne5 P)wDw)P)
17. Qd1 If 17. Qd4 Nf3+ 18. g×f3 Rg8+ and mate in at most three $NDQDRIw
moves (see diagram) After 17. Qd1
17. ... Bf3! 18. g×f3 Qh3 White resigned. 0–1.
This was the last time that Capablanca and Réti faced each other. Réti died seven
months later, on June 6, 1929, at the General Hospital in Prague, the victim of scarlet fever.
He was only 40 years old. Tartakower, who met Réti in their initial years in Vienna, allegedly
wrote (per Chessquotes.com but unconfirmed): “Réti studied mathematics although he was
not a dry mathematician; represented Vienna without being Viennese; was born in old Hun-
gary yet did not know Hungarian; spoke uncommonly rapidly only in order to act all the
more maturely and deliberately; and would yet become the best chessplayer never to become
world champion.”
The Berlin Tournament prizes were not high. For first place, Capablanca received 2,000
Deutschmarks, which back then amounted to $475 (almost $6,700 in 2015). Hermann Helms
considered Capablanca’s tournament tour in 1928 to be the most successful performance as
a whole by the Cuban to date on the European continent, as he had never previously played
there more than one competition per year. In Bad Kissingen, Budapest and Berlin, Capablanca
played 32 games in all, winning 14, losing 1 and drawing 17, for an average of 70.31 percent.
Capablanca returned to America from Southampton, England, on board the Leviathan
on November 23.17 Once in New York (November 29), Capablanca told Helms that he did
not believe that the match of Alekhine against Bogoljubow was going to be played, because
the latter had not complied with the clause of the initial $500 deposit. The truth is that
Alekhine had given Bogoljubow three months to look for that money. According to Alekhine,
Bogoljubow did it on January 10, 1929, although it was not until January 29 that the New
York Times reported that Bogoljubow had made the deposit: “According to information
received yesterday from Holland the match for the world’s chess championship between Dr.
Alexander Alekhine of Paris, title holder, and E.D. Bogoljubow, of Triberg, Germany, chal-
lenger, is now assured. The sum of $500 has been posted by Bogoljubow as a guarantee with
Dr. J. Strick van Linschoten of Deft, Holland, the referee.”18 The London rules specified in
clause 11: “After a challenge has been accepted by the champion and the referee and a stake-
holder appointed, the challenger must put a forfeit of $500 with stakeholder as a guarantee
of his good faith.” Therefore, according to these rules, the warranty had to be deposited in
September or October, when Alekhine recognized Bogoljubow’s challenge over that of Capa-
blanca, who had already made the deposit.
At the annual meeting of FIDE in 1929, a commission was created composed of

Alekhine, Ossip Bernstein and Pierre Vincent, all of France; Sir George Thomas, England;
W. Robinson, Germany; and Rueb, The Netherlands, who would submit their recommen-
dations for the world championship. But Capablanca doubted that this commission had the
capacity to act, much less with Alekhine as part of it.
On December 19 Capablanca returned to Havana from Key West in the shuttle Gov-
ernor Cobb. Still on that date, the Cuban did not give credit to any real possibility of a match
between Alekhine and Bogoljubow, even before the palpable evidence of Alekhine’s rejection
of his challenge in his letter of October 12. When Evelio Bermúdez, of Diario de la Marina,
mentioned to him a press release published in La Nación of Buenos Aires, stating what
Alekhine had written in “The 1927 New York Tournament as Prologue to the World Cham-
pionship in Buenos Aires,” his introduction to the book Das New Yorker Schach-Turnier,
1927, Capablanca was very prudent: “I have nothing to say about that article or any statements
of Dr. Alekhine. I know nothing and therefore I should not worry about those versions when
we have always had cordial relations.”19 It is possible that Capablanca did not know about
the text then, since the new book, published in German, was not reviewed by the New York
Times until December 25.
While Alekhine’s analysis of style, strengths and weaknesses of Capablanca’s game has
been considered an example of great technical research, the writing also included a personal
attack against the Cuban. According to Andy Soltis, “Not only do you have one of the
greatest annotators of all time rendering some brilliant analysis, but he melds it with an
exceptional agenda, an anti–Capablanca agenda. The extraordinary bias is a rarity for tour-
naments books.…” To Soltis, “Since he [Alekhine] wrote it after defeating Capablanca in
their marathon match, he sounds like a sore loser [of the New York tournament] who became
a sore winner.”20 The tone of Alekhine’s writing also surprised the Argentine Roberto Grau,
who despite his admiration for the Russian-French master, could not explain to himself such
a change: “We don’t know the reason. We do not know if Capablanca has given cause to be
treated so rudely, but in any case the attitude of our good friend Alekhine seems inelegant.
Nothing justifies trampling Capablanca’s chess reputation.” Grau suspected that the cause
of Alekhine’s irritation was that the world’s fans continued to show Capablanca great admi-
ration despite his loss of the title. Lederer did not believe that these were Alekhine’s words;
they were “not of the Alekhine I know,” he said. Interestingly, Alekhine’s wife had already
said in statements to the Buenos Aires press on November 29, 1927: “Alekhine will soon be
one new and different from the current person.”
This time Havana retained Capablanca for less than three months. On March 14, he
departed on the ferry Cuba to Key West in the company of his wife Gloria and their two chil-
dren. Days earlier, on February 27, he had been appointed attaché to the Cuban Embassy in
London.21 Already at the end of 1928, Capablanca had received in New York an invitation to
take part in a tournament in Ramsgate, England, that this time would be a showdown among
seven foreign and seven national masters. After that competition, played out between March
30 and April 6, 1929, in which the Cuban accumulated 5½ against his seven British rivals,
there followed a series of simultaneous exhibitions in London. On April 8, 1929, the Cuban
beat 35 of 40 opponents, while 5 were able to draw him. The next day, he beat all of his 36
opponents. On April 10, he won against 40 other British fans without conceding a draw.22
It was during this stay in the British capital that Capablanca played an exhibition game
against Maróczy with a chess variant called “Double Chess,” on an oblong board of 192
squares and two sets of pieces. Both the Cuban and the Hungarian said that “it was inter-
esting, but very complicated,” because it took two to three days to complete a game.23
At the end of June, Capablanca arrived in Carlsbad, Czechoslovakia (today Karlovy
Vary, in the Czech Republic), where a major tournament was to be played. As Alles Monas-
terio and Ståhlberg wrote in Partidas Clásicas de Capablanca, it was “a competition organized
à la a Great Lord, in a meeting place of the great gentlemen of the world.” The participation
of Vera Menchik, who had all the signs of internationality, as she was born in Moscow of a
Czech father and English mother, meant that for the first time a woman was participating
in an elite chess tournament. By the number of players involved, 22, it was the most extensive
competition in the Cuban’s career. Nimzowitsch called it, in his book Izbrannye Partii
Turnira-Mezhdunarovno v Karlsbade 1929 (published in English in 1981 as Carlsbad Inter-
national Chess Tournament): “one of the strongest tournaments ever played.”
The same day in which Capablanca (Black) played against Rubinstein in the third
round, Alekhine, who was present as a chronicler of the tournament for the New York Times,
and Bogoljubow, who participated in the competition, there unveiled publicly the changes
that they agreed to in the format of the match for the world championship, which disengaged
in a radical way from the London Rules. This was hard to swallow for the Cuban and no
doubt influenced his results in the tournament, as well as his health. Capablanca obtained
a typical victory against the Austrian master Albert Becker (Black) in the eighth round.
With respect to the way in which the Cuban countered his rival’s threats, Nimzowitsch
wrote: “[H]is speedy victories over Becker and other masters show only that a naive attacking
strategy, which might not be out of place against a second-class master, is certainly inappro-
priate against Capablanca.”
Capablanca–Albert Becker [D37]

8th Round, Carlsbad, 9 August 1929
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nf3 Nd7 4. Nc3 Ngf6 5. Bf4 d×c4 6. e3 Nd5 7. B×c4 N×f4

8. e×f4 Bd6 Interesting is 8. ... Be7 9. d5 (to be considered is 9. Qc2) 9. ... Nb6 10. Bb5+
Kf8 11. d×e6 Q×d1+ 12. R×d1 B×e6 13. 0–0 c6 14. Be2 Nd5 15. N×d5 B×d5 16. b3 Rd8
17. Ne5 f6 18. Nc4 g6 and Black is a little better. Portisch–R. Byrne, Biel 1976. 9. g3 Nf6
10. 0–0 0–0 11. Qe2 b6 12. Rfd1 “Capablanca’s move demonstrates his wonderful intuition”
(Nimzowitsch). Another possibility is 12. Ne5 Bb7 13. a3 Qe7 14. Rfe1 c5 15. d×c5 B×c5
16. Rad1 Rad8 17. R×d8 Q×d8 (better is 17. ... R×d8) 18. b4 Bd6 19. N×f7! With a winning
position. Tartakower–Becker, Carlsbad 1929. 12. ... Bb7 13. Rac1 a6 Or 13. ... Qe7 14. a3
Rfd8 15. Ne5 c5 16. Nb5 c×d4 17. N×d4 B×e5 18. Q×e5 Qd6
19. Bb3 Q×e5 20. f×e5 Ne8 21. f4 with White’s advantage. rDwDw4kD
Botvinnik–Menchik, Hastings 1934/35. 14. Bd3 “Very simple, Db0wDp0p
but nonetheless a very difficult move to find. Only now does the p0wDphwD
depth of Capablanca’s conception become evident: in playing DwDqDwDw
12. Rfd1 and 13. Rac1, quite evidently he had already foreseen wgw)N)wD
his entire plan of action along the d3–h7 diagonal” (Nimzo- DwDBDN)w
witsch). 14. ... Bb4 Better seems 14. ... Qe7 15. Ne4 Rfd8 16. a3 P)wDQ)w)
N×e4 17. B×e4 c5 18. d×c5 B×c5 19. b4 Bd6 20. Nd4 although Dw$RDwIw
White is better. 15. Ne4 Qd5 (see diagram) After 15. … Qd5
If 15. ... N×e4 16. B×e4 B×e4 17. Q×e4 Bd6 18. Rc6 with White’s advantage. If 15. ... Nd5
16. Neg5 Nf6 17. a3 Bd6 18. Ne5 Qe7 19. Qc2 with White’s advantage.
16. Nfg5! “Just a little combination—une petite combinaison as Capa would put it—
but if one sees the combination as the final link in White’s strategic plan, the conception
cannot fail to enchant” (Nimzowitsch). Weaker is 16. R×c7 N×e4 17. R×b7 N×g3 18. f×g3
Q×b7 with an even position. 16. ... Ne8 If 16. ... Q×d4 17. Rc4 winning. If 16. ... Q×a2
17. N×f6+ g×f6 18. Qh5 winning. If 16. ... Qd8 17. N×f6+ Q×f6 18. N×h7 winning. If 16. ...
Kh8 17. R×c7 Rac8 18. R×b7 Q×b7 19. N×f6 g×f6 20. Qh5 winning. 17. N×h7 f5 18. Nhg5
Black resigned. If 18. ... Qd7 (or 18... f×e4 19. Bc4 winning) 19. Qh5 Nf6 20. N×f6+ g×f6
21. Qg6+ Kh8 22. N×e6 Q×e6 23. R×c7 Be7 24. B×f5 winning. 1–0.
Kmoch, who acted as arbiter of the competition, wrote in the book of the tournament:
The Cuban will always be considered a kind of chess wonder although he has lost the Champi-
onship. He has the sense of chess even in his fingertips. You should have seen him playing a tour-
nament! Dressed to the nines, properly seated, he makes the Pieces slide with a smile on the lips.
You cannot see in him any sign of effort; involuntarily, you have the feeling that chess is not a
profession to him, not even a game, but a real toy. For Capablanca’s misfortune, there is some
truth on this. The original easiness with which he plays is stuck in his body that there, where he
would like to stop and concentrate, the moves leave his grasp. This is how he is delayed by slight
errors [Carlsbad 1929].
In the sixteenth round, during Capablanca’s game against the German Friedrich Sämisch
(White), took place one of the most commented-upon episodes in the Cuban’s career.
Friedrich Sämisch–Capablanca [E24]

1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. a3 B×c3+ 5. b×c3 d6 6. f3 e5 7. e4 Nc6 8. Be3 b6
9. Bd3 (see diagram)
Capablanca played 9. ... Ba6? losing a piece after 10. Qa4
rDb1kDw4 although his opponent still had to sweat 52 more moves to win.
0w0wDp0p 10. ... Bb7 11. d5 Qd7 12. d×c6 B×c6 13. Qc2 0–0–0 14. Ne2
w0n0whwD Qe6 15. Bg5 h6 16. B×f6 Q×f6 17. 0–0 h5 18. f4 Qh6 19. Rae1
DwDw0wDw Rhe8 20. f5 Qe3+ 21. Kh1 Qc5 22. Qc1 f6 23. Rf3 Rh8
wDP)PDwD 24. Qb2 a5 25. Rb1 h4 26. Nd4 Bd7 27. Nb3 Qc6 28. N×a5
)w)BGPDw Qa8 29. Nb3 h3 30 .g3 g6 31. f×g6 f5 32. Qc2 Rhg8 33. Nd2
wDwDwDP) f4 34. g×f4 R×g6 35. f5 Rg2 36. Rg1 Rdg8 37. R×g2 h×g2+
$wDQIwHR 38. Kg1 Q×a3 39. Rg3 R×g3 40. h×g3 Ba4 41. Qb1 Q×c3
After 9. Bd3 42. Nf3 Bb3 43. K×g2 B×c4 44. B×c4 Q×c4 45. Kf2 d5
46. e×d5 e4 47. Nd2 Q×d5 48. Ke2 Q×f5 49. Q×e4 Qb5+
50. Kf3 Qa5 51. Nc4 Qa1 52. g4 Qf1+ 53. Kg3 Qg1+ 54. Kh4 Qh2+ 55. Kg5 Kb8
56. Kg6 Ka7 57. g5 b5 58. Ne5 c5 59. Qd5 Qc2+ 60. Kf6 b4 61. g6 b3 62. g7 Black
resigned. 0–1.
The original and more colorful story about this game’s blunder was made by the Peruvian-
Italian master Esteban Canal, who participated in the tournament and wrote two versions
of the incident. The first was for the magazine L’Italia Scacchistica of June 1958:
I can tell you about a Capablanca tragicomic adventure which I witnessed, and that few people
know. It took place at the tournament in Carlsbad 1929, one of the most famous of the century,
which was very important for him because his victory would pave the way for the rematch against
Aljechin [sic]. But rather than concentrating all his force to achieve the purpose, he was alternat-
ing chess battles with gallant skirmishes; everyone knows the bad relations of ladies with the game
of chess. To make things worse, suddenly they got complicated. Some days, towards the end of
the tournament, he had the habit of withdrawing in a sweet conversation with a sickeningly sweet
young lady of good family, who had come with her parents for the cure of thermal waters, in a
small room, lost in the maze of corridors and rooms of the Grand Hotel, away from the prying
eyes. One afternoon, when I was taking a walk, I saw a brunette lady in the lobby between a pile
of suitcases, with two young boys in short pants, asking the doorman about Capablanca. I figured
out the situation: no doubt the woman wanted to prepare a pleasant surprise and arrived without
prior notice. I’ve always had a lot of sympathy for the misfortunes of others, and I was also a good
friend of Capablanca, so I rushed to give him the alarm. He explained everything to me in a hurry;
I took his place beside the young woman, and he began to walk in front of us, as if we had been
discovered by chance at that moment and he wanted to tell me something important. The scene
was appropriate and timely because shortly afterward entered his wife and children. After first
greeting him with hugs, she went with him. By the look that the good woman had given him, I
realized that the charade had not succeeded. In fact, I found out later that the night was stormy
for the Cuban, a cyclone of the Antilles was unleashed upon him. The next day he appeared in
the tournament’s playing room smiling as always, but in the game against Sämisch the effects of
the storm were noticed: after only nine moves he lost a piece, the game and the first prize.
Years later in the Spanish magazine Ocho por Ocho Especial (April 1995), appeared
another version by Canal, edited by the Spaniard International Master Román Torán.24
I walked around the room waiting for my adversary’s move when, suddenly, I saw entering Capa-
blanca’s companion of recent months. Unaware of her arrival, Capablanca was talking with a
young woman in a small room of the casino stage of the tournament. I wanted to avoid an inci-
dent and hurried to warn Capablanca. With his usual quick reaction he told me: “Sit down
here,” so the miss remained between the two of us and it could not be known who accompanied
her. But this maneuver did not convince the newcomer, and she gave a thunderous scandal.
Capablanca rejoined the game and made a serious mistake that cost him a piece. Normally, he
would have resigned, but he wanted the anger of his companion to calm down, so he continued
playing and, to the general astonishment, was almost able to save himself.
As one can see, the two Canal versions are contradictory. In the first, the loss against
Sämisch happens the day after the incident and a “stormy” night. In the second, it happens
the same day. Most probably the second is closer to reality. Canal, who apparently did not
know that the Cuban was married, mentions Gloria as “Capablanca’s companion of recent
months.” All the Capablanca family were in Carlsbad after they traveled together to England
in March 1929 through New York.25
Sadly for Capablanca, on the very day of his game against the German master, the tour-
nament was moved from the old Hotel Kurhaus to the Majestic Hotel, and most probably
also all the participants of the tournament with their families or guests. That can explain
the presence of Gloria and the child in the tournament hall looking for help. The reference
of Canal to the luggage also can be interpreted as something due to a change of accommo-
dations. Capablanca’s old Cuban friends, such as the International Chess Arbiter Alberto
García, blamed Gloria and her obsessive jealousy for the costly defeat. However, García saw
everything through Capablanca’s eyes and Gloria was not a person to whom he was devoted,
as he confessed to the author.
Yet there is something of importance in the matter: the mental lapse by Capablanca.
Carlsbad 1929
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22
1 Nimzowitsch, Aron • ½ 1 ½ ½ 1 1 1 ½ ½ 1 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 0 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 15
2 Capablanca, José R. ½ • 0 ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 0 1 1 1 1 ½ 1 141⁄2 141.75
3 Spielmann, Rudolf 0 1 • 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 0 ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 141⁄2 138.75
4 Rubinstein, Akiva K. ½ ½ 1 • ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 1 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ 1 ½ 0 ½ 1 131⁄2
5 Becker, Albert ½ 0 ½ ½ • 1 1 1 0 0 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 0 12 126.25
6 Vidmar, Milan 0 ½ ½ ½ 0 • 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 0 ½ ½ 0 1 1 1 1 12 115.50
7 Euwe, Max 0 ½ ½ ½ 0 0 • ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 1 ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ 1 1 12 114.25
8 Bogoljubow, Efim D. 0 ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ ½ • ½ ½ ½ 0 0 1 1 1 1 0 ½ 1 1 1 111⁄2
9 Grünfeld, Ernst ½ ½ 0 0 1 ½ ½ ½ • ½ ½ ½ 1 0 ½ 0 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ 11
10 Canal, Esteban ½ ½ 1 0 1 ½ 0 ½ ½ • 1 ½ 0 0 ½ ½ 0 1 0 ½ 1 1 101⁄2 105.75
11 Matisons, Hermanis 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 • 1 1 1 0 1 1 1 ½ 0 ½ 1 101⁄2 99.00
12 Tartakower, Savielly S. 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ 1 ½ ½ 0 • ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 10 99.00
13 Maróczy, Géza ½ 0 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 0 1 0 ½ • 0 0 0 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 1 10 96.25
14 Colle, Edgar ½ 0 0 ½ ½ 0 0 0 1 1 0 ½ 1 • 1 ½ 1 0 ½ 0 1 1 10 94.50
15 Treybal, Karel ½ 0 0 0 ½ 1 0 0 ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 0 • ½ ½ 0 1 1 ½ 1 10 94.25
16 Sämisch, Fritz 0 1 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 1 ½ 0 ½ 1 ½ ½ • ½ 0 ½ ½ 1 0 91⁄2 99.75
17 Yates, Frederick D. 1 0 ½ ½ 0 ½ ½ 0 0 1 0 ½ 0 0 ½ ½ • 1 ½ ½ 1 1 91⁄2 92.75
18 Johner, Paul 0 0 0 0 ½ 1 0 1 ½ 0 0 ½ ½ 1 1 1 0 • ½ 0 ½ 1 9 85.00
19 Marshall, Frank J. ½ 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ ½ 0 1 ½ ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ ½ • 1 1 1 9 82.75
20 Gilg, Karl 0 0 0 1 0 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ 1 ½ 0 1 0 ½ ½ 1 0 • ½ ½ 8
21 Thomas, George ½ ½ 0 ½ ½ 0 0 0 0 0 ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ 0 0 ½ 0 ½ • 1 6
22 Menchik, Vera 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 ½ 0 • 3
When he played 9. ... Ba6, he did so in the belief that he had castled already, as the Cuban
admitted to the Latvian Hermanis Matisons in the book of the tournament. But the telling
thing is that this had already happened to Capablanca in some games of the match in Buenos
Aires. He acknowledged that a physician, Dr. Lubomir May, attended him in Carlsbad for
his hypertension problems. He must have felt very bad to go to a specialist whom he did not
know in a resort, according to a later letter to Mario Figueredo. This might explain very well
not only the blunder against Sämisch, but also what Kmoch referred to as small errors in
the conduct of his games in Carlsbad, when first he was in an advantageous position against
Thomas that ultimately could have lost; or the draws by perpetual check that Nimzowitsch
and Bogoljubow saved in positions that were advantageous for the Cuban.
Alekhine said, in his chronicle to the New York Times of August 25, 1929 (published
August 28), that similar blunders never occurred in the long careers of other masters like
Nimzowitsch or Vidmar. The case of Capablanca, he said, “is sporadical and nearly typical,”
citing the examples: “1914 St. Petersburg game with Tarrasch, 1916 game New York game
with Chajes, the London match in 1922 with Morrison, the Moscow test of 1925 with Wer-
linsky, the twelfth game at Buenos Aires in 1927 and the Kissingen game of the same year
[as a matter of fact, it was in 1928, not 1927] against Spielmann.” This chronological list
can also serve to provide clues about hidden health episodes through his life.
Capablanca lost against Spielmann (White) in the penultimate round and that dropped
him from first place, half a point behind Nimzowitsch. But in the final, he faced Maróczy
(Black), in a game in which the winner of the competition was still at stake.
Capablanca–Géza Maróczy [D64]

1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nf3 d5 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 0–0 6. Nc3 Nbd7 7. Rc1 c6 8. Qc2 h6
Preferred nowadays is 8. ... a6 9. a3 h6 10. Bh4 Re8 11. Bd3 d×c4 12. B×c4 b5 13. Ba2 c5
14. 0–0 c×d4 15. e×d4 Bb7 with an even game. 9. Bh4 a6 10. c×d5! If 10. Bd3 d×c4 11. B×c4
b5 12. Bd3 c5 with an even game. 10. ... N×d5 Better seems 10. ... e×d5 11. Bd3 Re8 12. 0–
0 Ne4 13. B×e4 B×h4 14. Bh7+ Kh8 15. Bd3 Be7 16. Rfe1 although White is a little better.
11. Bg3! Qa5 Better seems 11. ... N×c3 12. Q×c3 Nf6 13. Bc4 Ne4 14. Qc2 Qa5+ with an
even game. 12. Nd2! If 12. e4 N×c3 13. b×c3 b5 14. Bd3 Bb7 15. 0–0 c5 with an even game.
12. ... N×c3 13. b×c3 c5 Better is 13. ... b5 14. Be2 Bb7 15. Bf3 Ra7 16. 0–0 c5 with an even
game. 14. Nc4 Qd8 15. Rd1 c×d4 16. R×d4 Bc5 Better seems 16. ... b5 17. Nd6 e5 18. Rd2
B×d6 19. R×d6 Qe7 20. Qd2 Nf6 21. f3 Nh5 22. Be2 N×g3 23. h×g3 Be6 and Black has
not problems. 17. Rd2 Qe7 18. Be2 b6 19. Nd6 Nf6 20. 0–0 If 20. Bf3 Nd5 21. c4 B×d6
22. B×d6 Q×d6 23. c×d5 Ra7 24. d×e6 Q×e6 with an even
game. 20. ... Ra7 Better is 20. ... Nd5 21. N×c8 Rf×c8 22. Rd3 wDwDw4kD
Bb4 23. Bf3 Ba5 24. Qb3 b5 25. a4 b×a4 26. Q×a4 B×c3 4wDb1p0w
27. B×d5 e×d5 28. R×d5 with an even game. 21. Bf3 Now White p0wHwhw0
is much better. 21. ... Bd7 22. Rfd1 e5 If 22. ... Nd5 23. Ne4 Dwgw0wDw
Rc8 24. Qb3 b5 25. N×c5 Q×c5 26. Be5 Qe7 27. e4 Nb6 wDwDwDwD
28. Bd4 Rb8 29. Qb4 Q×b4 30. c×b4 and White is much better Dw)w)BGw
(see diagram) PDQ$w)P)
23. Bh4! g5 If 23. ... Be6 24. Be2 g6 25. c4 Bb4 26. Rd3 g5 DwDRDwIw
27. Bg3 with a much better position. If 23. ... Qe6 24. Nb7 e4 After 22. … e5
25. N×c5 b×c5 26. Be2 Rb8 27. B×f6 g×f6 28. Rd6 Qe8 29. Bc4 Ba4 30. Bb3 B×b3 31. a×b3
with a winning position. 24. Bg3 Kg7 25. Be2! b5 26. h4 Rc7 Better is 26. ... Qe6 although
White is much better after 27. h×g5 h×g5 28. Ne4 N×e4 29. Q×e4 f6 30. Bd3 27. h×g5
h×g5 28. Nf5+ B×f5 29. Q×f5 Black resigned. If 29. ... Kh6 30. B×e5 Rc6 31. Rd7! N×d7
32. Bd3 g4 33. Qh7+ Kg5 34. Bf4+ Kf6 35. Qh6 mate. 1–0.
As a summary of this game, Nimzowitsch wrote in his book of Carlsbad: “After under-
taking his attack on the d-file with a bare minimum of force, Capablanca proceeded to
demonstrate an amazing coolheadedness: ignoring his opponent’s rather transparent coun-
terattacks (and perhaps even counting on his opponent’s careful style), he gradually brought
all his reserves into the fray, and crushed his opponent completely. Undoubtedly, a singularly
impressive game.” But in that same final round, Nimzowitsch beat Tartakower, earning the
most important win of his career in a tournament, after which he occupied first place alone,
half a point ahead of Capablanca and Spielmann.
This was the only time that Capablanca finished below the Latvian-Danish master in
a tournament. It was also the last time they fought against each other, although Nimzowitsch
did not die until nearly six years later, on March 16, 1935. Nimzowitsch wrote in his Carlsbad
book: “The fact that Alekhine’s opponent in the World Championship’s match has turned
out to be Bogoljubow (whose play Capablanca regards none too highly), and not himself,
has depressed him somewhat.” And he added that even in some games, as the one against
Grünfeld, “he [Capablanca] played for a draw … without making a single effort to win.”
Maybe it was one of those days of intolerable headaches. If Capablanca had some satisfaction
in Carlsbad, it was the poor outcome of the challenger to the crown. Bogoljubow suffered
five defeats in the tournament and finished in eighth place, 3½ points out of first prize. In
his chronicles of the competition, Alekhine suggested that Bogoljubow used the tournament
as a form of training. Alekhine’s contract with the New York Times made Capablanca under-
stand another disadvantage of not being world champion: some of the most important news-
papers around the world did not ask him for his cooperation.26
From Carlsbad, the Capablancas went to Budapest, where a small competition was
organized, with the participation of several of those who played in Carlsbad, such as Colle,
Rubinstein, Tartakower and Thomas.
On September 2, before Capablanca began his game against the German master Alfred
Brickmann, President Machado vetoed in Cuba a 5,000-peso fund (about $70,000 in 2015)
approved by the municipality of Havana to help afford the rematch against Alekhine.27 In
fact, the possibility of Machado’s approval was almost nonexistent, as both Corzo and
Bermúdez wrote before the veto. But friends of Capablanca followed along with their project.
Capablanca felt that the moral weight of a deposit of $5,000, instead of the required $500
would press Alekhine not to deny him the rematch, as he subsequently told the Havana jour-
nalist Arturo Alfonso Roselló.28
The confirmation of the fund’s veto did not seem to make a dent in Capablanca, because
in addition to winning the Budapest competition with a point above Rubinstein, he obtained
an award for the most brilliant game for his outing against Kornél Havasi, as well as another
special award for his victory against the Prague master Ladislav Prokeš, most remembered for
his prolific collection of composed chess endings. The best chance to celebrate a match for the
world championship in those moments was in Bradley Beach, New Jersey, where there was a
commitment of funds for $5,000 plus the stay of the participants at the Hotel La Reine. Indeed,
Budapest 1929
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14
1 Capablanca, José R. • ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 101⁄2
2 Rubinstein, Akiva K. ½ • ½ ½ 1 1 0 1 ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 91⁄2
3 Tartakower, Savielly ½ ½ • 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 1 1 1 1 1 1 8
4 Vajda, Arpad 0 ½ 1 • 0 1 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ 71⁄2 45.75
5 Thomas, George A. ½ 0 ½ 1 • 1 0 0 1 1 ½ 0 1 1 71⁄2 44.50
6 Steiner, Endré 0 0 1 0 0 • ½ 1 0 1 1 1 1 ½ 7
7 Colle, Edgar 0 1 ½ 0 1 ½ • ½ 0 ½ 1 0 ½ 1 61⁄2 40.50
8 Havasi, Kornél 0 0 1 ½ 1 0 ½ • 0 0 1 ½ 1 1 61⁄2 36.75
9 Przepiórka, Dawid ½ ½ 0 ½ 0 1 1 1 • ½ 0 0 0 1 6
10 Canal, Esteban 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 0 ½ 1 ½ • ½ ½ 1 ½ 51⁄2 31.50
11 Monticelli, Mario ½ 0 0 ½ ½ 0 0 0 1 ½ • ½ 1 1 51⁄2 30.25
12 Van den Bosch, J. 0 0 0 0 1 0 1 ½ 1 ½ ½ • 0 0 41⁄2
13 Brinckmann, Alfred 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ 0 1 0 0 1 • 1 4
14 Prokeš, Ladislav 0 0 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 0 0 ½ 0 1 0 • 21⁄2
the confidence in attracting a lot of tourists fond of chess was so great, that a new building
with the name Bradley Hotel was built to greet the participants of the international tour-
nament of 1929, and which subsequently would serve for the world championship match.
Capablanca believed that Walter Penn Shipley could collect another $500 or $1,000 and
get the difference in some way or another, according to his letter to Lederer on July 6, 1929. It
was not unreasonable to assume at that time that if there was some deficit, Capablanca was
willing to use his own resources, as did the chess masters in the past. Moreover, years later
it was known that Capablanca had proposed to finance part of the second Euwe–Alekhine
match if there was a commitment that the winner would play against him. From Budapest,
where Capablanca won the tournament that ended on September 16, the Cuban traveled
with his family to Barcelona, Spain, where on September 25 began a tournament on the
occasion of the world’s fair, with the broad participation of local players. Among them was
Manuel Golmayo de la Torriente, son of Celso Golmayo Zúpide. Capablanca won the tour-
nament, defeating all opponents except Tartakower, who finished two points below him.
Capablanca–Edgar Colle [B36]

1st Round, Barcelona, 25 September 1929
1. c4 Nf6 2. Nf3 c5 3. Nc3 Nc6 4. d4 c×d4 5. N×d4 N×d4 Better is 5. ... e6. 6. Q×d4
g6 7. e4 If 7. Bg5 Bg7 8. Nd5 0–0 9. B×f6 e×f6 10. Qd2 d6 11. g3 Be6 12. Bg2 Gheorghiu–
Matulović, Skopje 1968. Black can now play 12. ... Rc8 13. Rc1 b5 14. c×b5 R×c1+ 15. Q×c1
Qa5+ 16. Nc3 f5 with an even game. 7. ... d6 8. Be3 Or 8. Bg5 Bg7 9. Qd2 Be6 10. Rc1 Rc8
11. b3 Qa5 12. f3 h6 13. Be3 0–0 14. Bd3 (if 14. B×h6 B×h6 15. Q×h6 b5 16. Qg5 Rc5
17. Qd2 Rfc8 and Black has compensation for the pawn) 14. ... Kh7 15. 0–0 a6 16. h3 Nd7
17. f4 f5 (interesting is 17... Nc5 18. f5 Bd7) 18. e×f5 B×f5 19. Be2 and White is a little better.
Polugayevsky–Beliavsky, USSR Championship 1975. 8. ... Bg7 9. f3 Qa5 10. Qd2 a6 Better
is 10. ... 0–0 11. Be2 Be6 12. Nb5 Q×d2+ 13. K×d2 Nd7 with an even position. 11. Be2 Be6
12. Rc1 Rc8 13. b3 Nd7 If 13... b5 14. Nd5 (or 14. c×b5 N×e4 15. f×e4 B×c3 16. R×c3
Q×c3 17. Q×c3 R×c3 18. Kd2 R×e3 19. K×e3 a×b5 20. B×b5+ and White is better) 14. ...
Q×d2+ 15. K×d2 b×c4 16. B×c4 and White is better. 14. 0–0 0–0 15. Nd5 Qd8 16. Qb4
B×d5 Maybe better is 16. ... Nc5 17. Rfd1 (if 17. B×c5 d×c5 18. Q×b7 Bd4+ 19. Kh1 Bd7
20. Rcd1 Rb8 21. Qa7 Ra8 22. Qb6 e6 23. Q×d8 Ra×d8 24. Nb4 a5 25. Nc2 e5 with com-
pensation for the pawn) 17. ... a5 18. Qb5 f5 19. B×c5 R×c5 20. Q×b7 Rf7 and Black has
compensation for the pawn. 17. c×d5 R×c1 If 17. ... b5 18. R×c8 Q×c8 19. Rc1 Nc5 20. g3
f5 21. B×c5 d×c5 22. R×c5 Qd7 23. Rc6 with advantage. 18. R×c1 Qb8 19. Qc4 Bb2 If
19. ... Nc5 20. b4 Na4 21. Qc7 Bb2 22. Rc2 Bf6 23. f4 with a big advantage for White. 20. Rc2
Bf6 21. f4 Rd8 22. Qc7 Qa8 If 22. ... Q×c7 23. R×c7 b5 24. Bg4 Nf8 25. Ra7 winning. If
22. ... Nc5 23. Q×b8 R×b8 24. e5 Bg7 25. B×c5 Rc8 26. b4 b6 27. B×a6 Rc7 28. a4 b×c5
29. b5 Ra7 30. a5 d×e5 31. b6 winning. 23. Bg4 Nc5 24. e5 Bg7
qDw4wDkD 25. Q×e7 h5 (see diagram)
DpDw!pgw 26. e6! h×g4 If 26. ... f×e6 27. B×e6+ N×e6 28. Q×e6+
pDw0wDpD Kh7 29. f5 g×f5 30. Rc7 Kh8 31. R×g7 K×g7 32. Bd4+ Kf8
DwhP)wDp 33. Qh6+ Ke8 34. Qg6+ Ke7 (if 34... Kd7 35. Qf7+ Kc8 36. Bb6
wDwDw)BD Qb8 37. Q×f5+ Rd7 38. Qf8+ Rd8 39. Q×d8 mate) 35. Qg7+
DPDwGwDw Ke8 36. Bf6 and mate in three moves. 27. e×f7+ Kh7 28. Qh4+
PDRDwDP) Bh6 29. f5 g5 If 29... Kg7 30. Q×h6+ K×f7 31. Q×g6+ Ke7
DwDwDwIw 32. Qg7+ Ke8 33. f6 and mate next move. 30. B×g5 Kg7
After 25. … h5 31. Q×h6+ Black resigned. If 31. ... K×f7 32. Qh7+ Kf8
33. Bh6+ Ke8 34. Re2+ Ne4 35. R×e4 mate. 1–0.
From Barcelona, Capablanca sent another challenge to Alekhine on October 1, even

though the Russian-French master’s match against Bogoljubow was not over. This match,
wrote Hans Kmoch, was something of an exhibition rather than a real competition at the
summit. The match was even suspended for several days so that Alekhine could come to a
FIDE meeting as a delegate of France. This time the Cuban did not want to give Alekhine
the pretext that someone else had taken the first step, as had happened the year before:
[Letterhead] Hotel de la Exposición, Barcelona, Plaza España.
1 October, 1929.
Dr. A. Alekhine, Heidelberg, Germany
Dear Sir.
In accordance with your request to Dr. N.L. Lederer, I hereby confirm my previous challenge
to play a match for the Chess Championship of the World. I have deposited the sum of five hun-
Barcelona 1929
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
1 Capablanca, José R. • ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 131⁄2
2 Tartakower, Savielly ½ • 1 ½ 1 1 ½ ½ 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 111⁄2
3 Colle, Edgar 0 0 • ½ 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 11
4 Monticelli, Mario 0 ½ ½ • ½ ½ 1 1 0 ½ 1 0 1 1 1 81⁄2 49.50
5 Rey Ardid, Ramón 0 0 0 ½ • ½ 1 0 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 81⁄2 42.75
6 Golmayo, M. 0 0 0 ½ ½ • 0 1 ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 1 8
7 Yates, Frederick D. 0 ½ 0 0 0 1 • ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 ½ 71⁄2
8 Menchik, Vera 0 ½ ½ 0 1 0 ½ • 1 ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 0 7 44.50
9 Vilardebo, José 0 0 0 1 0 ½ ½ 0 • ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 7 34.00
10 Soler, Plácido 0 0 0 ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ ½ • 0 ½ ½ ½ 1 5 26.75
11 Marín,Valentín 0 ½ 0 0 0 0 ½ ½ 0 1 • 1 ½ ½ ½ 5 26.50
12 Ribera, Angel 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 ½ ½ 0 • ½ 1 1 41⁄2
13 Font, Joaquím 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ ½ • 0 1 3 12.75
14 Aguilera, Juan 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 ½ ½ 0 1 • 1 3 10.00
15 Torres, Joaquín 0 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 1 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 • 2
dred dollars with Dr. Lederer to guarantee the above challenge in accordance with the London
Rules of 1922.
Awaiting your answer, I remain, yours truly,
J.R. Capablanca.
Légation of Cuba, 2 Rue Goethe, Paris, France29
When Alekhine published it in the review L’Echiquier ( July 1930, pages 859–860), he
noted it was franked by the post office on November 12, 1929. Edward Winter suggests it
was written on October l, but Capablanca did not post it until November 12, just after the
victory of Alekhine over Bogoljubow.
Before sending it, Capablanca announced it to the press. The news of the new challenge
appeared in the New York Times of November 14, 1929: “Capablanca Formally Issues Chal-
lenge to Dr. Alekhine.” The press note acknowledged the failed previous attempts to get a
positive response from the world champion: “Capablanca had previously sent challenges
through friends, but Alekhine insisted on a formal written challenge, which Capablanca has
mailed. The Cuban hopes that the challenge will be accepted shortly and expects that the
matches will be played either in New York or Bradley Beach, N.J.”
Capablanca finished that year of intense activity with his victory in the tournament in
Hastings which began on December 27 and ended on January 4, 1930. Also participating
were Vidmar, Yates and Maróczy, who finished in that order behind the Cuban. In 1929,
Capablanca participated in five tournaments, winning three, having the best score of the for-
eign players who clashed with the British masters in Ramsgate, and ended tied for second and
third in the remaining one. In 64 games played, he won 39, lost 2 and drew 23, for a 77.34
percentage. Adding this to his results of 1928, in those two years Capablanca played 96 games,
winning 55, losing 3 and drawing 40, for a 78.2 percentage. But in conclusion, 1929 ended
as 1928, amid great doubts about the possibility of the rematch for the championship.
It is true that on December 3, Alekhine responded to Capablanca’s challenge and the
news was published, among others, in the New York Times of December 4. But the response
of the world champion created new uncertainties due to the date chosen by him, September
or October. Alekhine specified New York as the site, although in fact it was the nearby town
Ramsgate 1929
7. Znosko-Borovsky, Eugene 3/7
6. Soultanbéieff, Victor I. 4/7
5. Koltanowski, George 41⁄2/7
4. Maróczy, Géza 41⁄2/7
3. Menchik, Vera 5/7
2. Rubinstein, Akiva 5/7
1. Capablanca, José Raú1 51⁄2/7
1 Thomas, George Alan ½ ½ 0 1 ½ 1 0 31⁄2
2 Yates, Frederick ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ 0 1 3
3 Tylor, Theodore ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ ½ 21⁄2
4 Winter, William 0 0 ½ ½ 0 ½ 1 21⁄2
5 Michell, Reginald P. 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ 0 1 21⁄2
6 Sergeant, Edward G 0 0 ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ 2
7 Price, Hubert E. 0 ½ 0 0 0 1 0 11⁄2
Results as a team: Foreign players 311⁄2–British players 171⁄2. Ramsgate was a team tournament.
Hastings 1929-30
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
1 Capablanca, José R. • ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 61⁄2
2 Vidmar, Milan ½ • ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 1 ½ ½ 51⁄2
3 Yates, Frederick D. ½ ½ • ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ 0 1 5
4 Maróczy, Géza ½ ½ ½ • ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 41⁄2 20.25
5 Thomas, George A. 0 ½ ½ ½ • ½ 1 1 0 ½ 41⁄2 19.50
6 Takács, Sándor ½ ½ 0 ½ ½ • 0 ½ 1 1 41⁄2 18.50
7 Sergeant, Edward G. 0 0 ½ ½ 0 1 • 1 ½ 1 41⁄2 17.50
8 Winter, William ½ 0 ½ ½ 0 ½ 0 • 1 1 4
9 Menchik, Vera 0 ½ 1 ½ 1 0 ½ 0 • 0 31⁄2
10 Price, Hubert E. 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ 0 0 0 1 • 21⁄2
of Bradley Beach, New Jersey, where a small international tournament—easily won by

Alekhine—had been played in the summer of 1928. Some media, like the New York Times
itself, were sure about the playing of the rematch: “Paris, Dec 3, [1929]: That a return match
for the chess championship of the world between Dr. Alexander Alekhine of this city, the
title-holder, and José R. Capablanca of Havana, former champion, is assured for 1930 was
definitely ascertained today when the Cuban made it known that he had received from Dr.
Alekhine an acceptance to the challenge which he recently addressed to him.”
The same day Capablanca wrote to Alekhine:
[Letterhead] Cuban legation in France
Dr. A. Alekhine, Paris, France
Dear Sir:
I received your answer dated 28 November to my letter dated 1 October 1929. I understood
from Dr. Lederer, before I left New York, that you only required such a letter in order to carry
out the arrangements for the match in accordance with the long conversation you had with him
on the subject. Your answer of 28 November puts a different aspect on the whole matter and I
am sending a copy of your letter in order to find out from Dr. Lederer if the arrangements can be
carried out on the dates you mention. As soon as I have an answer about it from Dr. Lederer, I
shall, I hope, be able to give you a definitive answer as to the place for the match, etc. Dr. Led-
erer may perhaps write to you directly. I hope so, as it would save time.
Yours faithfully,
J.R. Capablanca.30
The date chosen by Alekhine created an insurmountable obstacle, since the town of
Bradley Beach that made a living out of summer tourism and pledged to contribute $5,000
of the funds, plus the accommodations of the opponents, would not obtain any benefit from
a match celebrated after the closing of the beach season following Labor Day. Capablanca’s
challenge was based on the assumed understanding between Alekhine and Lederer to play
the championship in the spring of 1930. In a letter to Capablanca on December 24, 1929,
Lederer clarified why it would be impossible to play from October 15 to December 15 in
the New Jersey spa:
The date set for the match by A. [Alekhine] is likewise very unfortunate and A. knows this per-
fectly well: it was carefully explained to him by the Mayor of Bradley Beach that their whole
interest lies in the publicity which the town of Bradley Beach would get from the match and the
publicity is only of value, of course, if it precedes the season, in which case the hotels would
profit thereby. In the winter everything is closed and they feel that publicity gained in December
is of little or no value for the season starting the following July.31
Lederer’s letter warned Capablanca of the difficult financial conditions that existed
after the collapse of the New York Stock Exchange at the end of October 1929, as he indicated
to the Cuban, “You will have to supply the main effort yourself as without your help it will
be very difficult to raise the money.”
In regard to the Crash of 1929, it is necessary to observe that Capablanca followed
with concern the debates in the Congress of the United States and the negative conse-
quences of restricting trade through protectionist measures, such as the tariff asked for
by Senator Reed Smoot and Congressman Willis C. Hawley that taxed more than
20,000 import items. As Lederer explained to the Cuban, the affair had him very dis-
tressed, as his business depended in great part on products that he imported. Capablanca
responded in a prophetic way on July 6, 1929: “In my opinion people in the U.S. have
gone crazy. Unless they come to reason they will have a very hard time ahead.” 32 We do
not know the economic impact that the stock market crash caused in the personal finances
of the then former world chess champion, but everyone who owned shares on the New
York Stock Exchange in October 1929 would not be able to recover the value lost for more
than a quarter of a century. By the time the main indicator, the Dow Jones index, finally
returned in 1955 to the levels of early September 1929, Capablanca had been dead for 13
years.33
Meanwhile, the media found it difficult to distinguish the truth in the midst of this
war of words, but at least something became clear: some barriers were created due to the
uncertainties of the London Rules, which were not exactly a contract with a legal essence,
but simply a general plan. Capablanca asked various people to read the London Rules before
he showed them to the masters in London in 1922, among others the lawyer Walter Penn
Shipley, who did not consider them as a real legal contract. In addition, Shipley said to the
Cuban that the rules were very hard against the champion himself in the case that he could
not defend his title due to illness, so that clause was amended.34
One of the most serious problems is that the rules did not embrace the point of view
of those who financed the match. Alekhine, as a lawyer, soon found those aspects not properly
clarified. For example, he chose as the date of the hypothetical match the months of October
to November, which were not of interest to Bradley Beach hoteliers. If there had been
included a clause stating that those who financed the meeting had to give their approval of
the date, Alekhine would have had to adapt to it. Capablanca could claim that they were
unwritten rules, which were logical deductions. But this was not enough for his opponent,
who then suggested they celebrate the competition the months of July and August in New
York, an exhausting city in the summer. On the other hand, the refusal of Alekhine to play
in Havana was not covered by the rules, despite their inadequacy. The rules of London men-
tioned: “Should there be several offers by clubs of countries for the match, the champion
will be obliged to accept the higher bid, unless he can give satisfactory reasons to the referee
for refusing such offer.”
But since there were not “several offers” but two very specific ones, the one in Bradley
Beach in 1931, and another by the Hotel Nacional of Cuba in 1931, which offered its rooms
to the opponents, plus one of the halls for the competition, the world champion could not
invoke a right not stipulated. Capablanca felt that the match could be held in the Cuban
capital in December of 1931 or 1932. Reminding Alekhine that other European players such
as Chigorin, Gunsberg, Steinitz and Lasker had played in Havana, Capablanca attempted
to dampen the strength of Alekhine’s allegation. But actually the pretext of heat and the
tropical climate was definitely untenable since the inauguration in 1932 of the Hotel Nacional
in the Cuban capital, because that installation was located at the top of a hill, close to the
Atlantic Ocean.35
In answering a question from the journalist Arturo Alfonso Roselló in the magazine
Social, February 15, 1931, Capablanca said: “I don’t think that Alekhine will agree. To come
to Cuba he would demand much more than to go anywhere [else]. But the place is the least
[important matter]. Certainly I’d like to play in my homeland. But if Alekhine refuses, I am
ready to fight wherever he points to. Otherwise, it might seem that I was looking for the
advantage of the environment.” It was in that interview that the Cuban said the climate of
Buenos Aires affected him more than it did the French-Russian. “Alekhine, for example,
refuses to play in Cuba, alluding to the heat. And I think, precisely, that it is difficult to find
a human being whom heat affects more than it does me. In Buenos Aires, in the time in
which we played, the heat was horribly more stifling than in Cuba. I would play better against
Alekhine in his home country than in mine.”
In 1930 and 1931, Capablanca invested more energy in his correspondence with
Alekhine than on the chessboard. In addition, he was facing a downgrading of his post as a
result of budget cuts in Cuba, immersed, as was the rest of the world, in a huge economic
crisis. On July 30, 1930, Havana informed the Cuban Embassy in London that it had ter-
minated Capablanca’s services as Head of Information and Propaganda of the Government
of Cuba Abroad, which was communicated to the former world champion in Paris, where
he was at that time. So on August 7 Capablanca asked Secretary of State Rafael Martínez
Ortiz to be reinstated in the category he had before, “Chancellor first class.”
From December 29, 1930, to January 7, 1931, Capablanca played in the Hastings tour-
nament, which included the presence of an extraordinary natural player from India: Sultan
Khan, who defeated the Cuban in the third round, in a tournament in which Capablanca
was not very focused. In 1939, Capablanca said to the Buenos Aires magazine El Gráfico that
sometimes everything was erased from his mind, “like a sponge,” referring specifically to the
Nottingham tournament of 1936. But, as stated before, it is possible that the same had hap-
pened to him before. Nonetheless, Capablanca finished second in Hastings 1930-31, only
half a point behind Euwe. This broke an 11-year lucky streak in which the Cuban master
had won all the competitions he played in Great Britain.
It is worth revisiting his first round game against Colle from the Hastings 1930-31 tour-
nament.
Hastings 1930-31
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
1 Euwe, Max • ½ 1 1 1 ½ 1 0 1 1 7
2 Capablanca, José R. ½ • 0 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 61⁄2
3 Sultan Khan, Mir 0 1 • 1 ½ 1 0 1 ½ 1 6
4 Michell, Reginald P. 0 ½ 0 • 1 1 ½ 1 0 1 5
5 Yates, Frederick 0 0 ½ 0 • 1 1 ½ 1 ½ 41⁄2
6 Thomas, George A. ½ ½ 0 0 0 • 1 0 1 1 4
7 Winter, William 0 0 1 ½ 0 0 • 1 ½ ½ 31⁄2
8 Menchik, Vera 1 0 0 0 ½ 1 0 • ½ 0 3 14.75
9 Tylor, Theodore 0 0 ½ 1 0 0 ½ ½ • ½ 3 12.50
10 Colle, Edgar 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 ½ 1 ½ • 21⁄2
Capablanca–Edgar Colle [E34]

1st Round, Hastings, 29 December 1930
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. Qc2 d5 5. c×d5 Q×d5 6. Nf3 0–0 Nowadays the
main variation is 6. ... Qf5 7. Qd1 c5 8. e3 c×d4 9. e×d4 Ne4 10. Bd2 N×d2 11. Q×d2 0–0
with an even position. 7. Bd2 B×c3 8. b×c3 Nbd7 9. e3 c5 10. c4 Qd6 11. Rd1 b6 12. Bc3
h6 Better is 12. ... Bb7 13. Be2 c×d4 14. e×d4 Ne4 15. 0–0 N×c3 16. Q×c3 Rac8 with an
even position. 13. Be2 Bb7 14. 0–0 Qc7 15. d×c5 b×c5 Better seems 15. ... Q×c5 16. Qb2
Rfd8 17. Bb4 Qc7 18. Bd6 Qc6 19. Bf4 Rac8 with an even position. 16. Qb2 Rab8 17. Qa1
Ng4 Better is 17. ... Rfd8 18. Ne5 Ne4 19. N×d7 N×c3 20. Q×c3 R×d7 21. R×d7 Q×d7
22. Qe5 Rc8 23. Rd1 Qa4 with an even position (see diagram)
18. R×d7! Q×d7 19. B×g7 Qc7 If 19. ... Rfe8 20. Ne5 N×e5 w4wDw4kD
21. Q×e5 f5 22. B×h6 Kh7 23. Bf4 Qe7 24. Rb1 and White is 0b1nDp0w
winning. 20. B×f8 R×f8 21. g3 f6 If 21. ... Rd8 22. Qc3 Qe7 wDwDpDw0
23. Rb1 Be4 24. Rb5 Bc6 25. Ra5 Rb8 26. Nd2 Nf6 27. Nb3 Ne4 Dw0wDwDw
28. Qe5 Rd8 29. f3 winning. 22. Nh4 Ne5 23. f4 Qc6 If 23. ... wDPDwDnD
Nd7 24. Rd1 Be4 25. Bd3 B×d3 26. R×d3 Rb8 27. Qd1 Nf8 DwGw)NDw
28. f5 winning. 24. Kf2 Qe4 If 24. ... Nd7 25. Bf3 Qc7 26. Qb1 PDwDB)P)
winning. 25. Qb1 And not 25. f×e5? f×e5+ 26. Ke1 R×f1+ !wDRDRIw
27. B×f1 Q×e3+ 28. Be2 (if 28. Kd1 Bc6 29. a4 Qf2 and Black After 17. … Ng4
is winning) 28. ... Qg1+ 29. Bf1 Qe3+ and draw. 25. ... Q×b1
26. R×b1 Be4 27. Rb3 Nd7 28. Ra3 Ra8 29. Ra5 Kf7 30. Nf3 Ke7 31. Nd2 Bc6 32. Bf3
B×f3 33. K×f3 Kd6 34. Ne4+ Kc6 35. Ra6+ Nb6 36. N×f6 Kb7 37. Ra5 Rc8 38. Ne4
N×c4 39. Rb5+! But not 39. R×c5? Nd2+ Black resigned. Now the advantage would be
not of one, but two pawns. This brings to memory the question Botvinnik used to pose to
his young students about a position where the Cuban master had a one-pawn advantage:
“What did Capablanca do to win the game?” Seeing his students hesitate, Botvinnik would
answer his own question: “He won another pawn.” 1–0.
On January 14, Capablanca offered a simultaneous session in Newcastle, England, with

an outcome of 37 victories and 3 draws. On January 28, he and his family boarded the ship
Île de France at the French port of Le Havre. Before he left France, it was announced in New
York that he would face a record number of 200 opponents, divided among 50 boards, at
the Seventh Regiment Armory, 643 Park Avenue, Manhattan. Despite the economic reces-
sion, the news was enthusiastically received, since it distracted many people from the harsh
realities at hand. The New York Times, January 25, 1931, assured, “Capablanca match creates
interest. Many clubs reserving tables for Cuban’s exhibition against 200.” The event show-
cased the combined efforts of many of the chess clubs of the New York metropolitan area.
It was a gigantic organizational triumph for Hermann Helms, who was able to unite many
people to meet the ambitious goal. Another public notice added that Frank J. Marshall would
arbitrate, with the help of Albert B. Hodges and Edward Lasker as umpires. It was a publicity
stunt in a time of deep economic crisis, but very far from the record of 155 boards that Mar-
shall played in Montreal 1922, and even far short of the 103 boards that Capablanca faced
in Cleveland that very same year of 1922.
When Capablanca arrived in New York on February 3, 1931, after an absence of almost
two years spent in Europe, the newspapers said that this time he was not affected by
influenza—which had happened frequently—and that he had plans of getting ready for the
exhibition with long walks in Central Park. His response about the probability of his playing
for the world championship was not optimistic: “Capablanca said he had done his best to
arrange a match, but had failed.” One way or the other, it was obvious that the goal pursued
by the massive simultaneous exhibition was to rekindle interest for chess and create a possible
financial backing for the world championship. It was during this stay in New York that Capa-
blanca issued a legal statement as an open letter that, after going over Alekhine’s refusals to
concede him a return match, ended by threatening that if Alekhine did not defend his title
against him, “I will be compelled to claim the championship of the world by default and
will be prepared thereafter to meet all comers for the title in free and open competition.”
Alekhine answered by stating that he would hold on to his rights as champion, mocking the
tone of the letter, and accusing Capablanca of wasting his time. Both called for an impartial
jury, but the FIDE, through Rueb, refused to interfere. Alekhine alleged that he had a right
to the $500 given by Capablanca as a warranty, but later he agreed in a letter to Lederer to
relinquish the funds back to the Cuban master.
The exhibition in the afternoon of February 12 ended with 28 wins for Capablanca, 6
defeats and 16 draws after 8½ hours of play. One of the winning opponent-teams was the
Manhattan Chess Club, with their talented young player, Reuben Fine.36
On February 28, aboard the newer passenger ship Morro Castle, which had been in
service six months since her inaugural trip in August of 1930, the Capablancas left New
York and headed for Havana, where they arrived on March 3. Capablanca’s brother Ramiro
and his wife, Ana Bernal, were waiting for them at the docks. Being of French ancestry,
Bernal was the only member of the family who could understand little Tuto, who, after his
stay in Europe—mainly in Paris—had forgotten Spanish and only spoke French.
This time, Capablanca was returning to his homeland after joining the long global list
of the unemployed, for his return to the foreign service was far from a foregone conclusion.
The situation was alluded to by the Diario de la Marina, March 3, 1931, in a brief note
announcing his arrival: “The Secretariat of State will extend the usual courtesies to Mr. José
Raúl Capablanca, ex-world chess champion and ex-commercial attaché of the Republic in
Europe. Mr. Capablanca arrives today in Havana aboard the Morro Castle steamboat, and a
protocol member of our Foreign Office will welcome him at the docks.” On this occasion
he spent barely a month at the Cuban capital, and returned to New York by himself on April
15 in the Governor Cobb, another memorable ship in his life (which became in time the first
helicopter carrier in the world). On the other hand, the City of Washington, which took
Chigorin and Blackburne to Cuba, made its mark on history when her sailors rescued from
the waters of the Havana Bay the survivors of the explosion of the USS Maine, on the night
of February 15, 1898. The City of Alexandria, aboard which Steinitz traveled from New York
to Cuba in 1892 for his second match against Chigorin, exploded and sank within sight of
Cojimar, a coastal village not far from Havana on November 2, 1893, the home of the fictional
fisherman Santiago in Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. More than 30 people died
in the disaster. The most tragic end fell to the Morro Castle (second vessel by that name),
which in her last voyage caught fire and ran aground at Asbury Park, New Jersey, on Sep-
tember 8, 1934, causing the death of 158 people, including passengers and crew members.
There is no doubt, some ships have had close ties with the history of chess in Cuba.
President Machado reinstated Capablanca on March 14, 1931, in the diplomatic service
in a less important category and lower salary, starting April 13.37 In Havana, Capablanca
offered two simultaneous exhibitions, also with the intention of lifting the spirits of local
aficionados and to put chess in the headlines again, but his efforts failed to impress either
the official authorities or the wealthy. On Saturday, March 28, at the Automobile Club,
Capablanca faced the best chess players in Havana. At least four former or future chess cham-
pions of the island played against him that day: María Teresa Mora, Francisco Planas, Miguel
Alemán and the veteran Juan Corzo, the only one who was able to defeat him. The outcome
was 23 victories, 1 loss and 1 draw against 25 opponents. On April 4, Capablanca offered
yet another exhibition against about 25 players of a similar caliber at the Military Club, also
arranged by Dr. Angel de Albear and the Cuban Chess Federation. He won 22 games and
drew 3.
Capablanca returned to New York on April 15, on the Governor Cobb via Key West.
The passenger roster, however, shows that the rest of his family was conspicuously absent.
In an unsigned note in Diario de la Marina that same day (April 15, 1931), the anonymous
author expressed his worry that Capablanca was leaving Cuba for good: “The impression
left by his indefinite absence is food for thought; we fear that we are losing Capablanca.”
Apparently the author did not know that Capablanca had been readmitted to the foreign
service barely two days before his departure.38 Despite these facts, the anonymous reporter
at the Diario de la Marina added that Capablanca’s mood was very melancholy, as is in evi-
dence in his commentary:
He will later devote special attention to the world championship, which, despite the official
neglect and the social indifference shown in Cuba, he expects will be held. Capablanca will
suffer no shortage of other chess events that will compensate with glorious victories the grief
that he is indubitably carrying away from his homeland. His brief stay in Havana leaves in its
wake a trail of wonderful memories, an echo of his exquisite graciousness. We do not know if he
is taking with him memories as good as the ones he leaves behind. When we recounted to him
the efforts we had made and asked for his insight, his response was usually a kind smile; he could
not hide his disappointment.… Neither a complaint, nor a demand; he never made any request.
He yielded to our impulses and enthusiasm, without any hope. In saluting once more such an
illustrious, prominent Cuban, we hope for his personal happiness, for his victories in chess, and
for him to find among strangers the warm welcome he lacked among us.
Upon returning to New York, Capablanca participated in a tourney attended by young
American talents, plus Canadian Maurice Fox and Hungarian Herman Steiner—who had
resided in the States since his early youth. The Cuban master started with six consecutive
victories, until Steiner himself stopped his rampage with a draw in the seventh round. The
event, organized by Lederer, was played at the Japanese Room of the Hotel Alamac, the same
place that hosted the New York masters tournament in 1924. It was a significant opportunity
for a number of strong and promising young American players such as Isaac Kashdan, Arthur
W. Dake (who would defeat Alekhine himself a year later, at the Pasadena tournament in
1932), Isaac Horowitz, and Anthony Santasiere.
Things were not so rosy, however, for Marshall, who suffered six defeats, ending up
tied for 9th to 11th place among 12 players; or for Edward Lasker, who finished the same as
Marshall. The games of Capablanca in the tournament were marked by their freshness.
Against Isador Samuel Turover, a known promoter and patron of chess in the United States,
he used a Bird’s Opening, although giving it a treatment of a reversed Dutch Defense in
which he incorporated strategic ideas later used by the Danish grandmaster Bent Larsen.
Double Fianchetto systems were also observed against Al Horowitz and Anthony Santasiere.
Against Arthur Dake he played a sharp variation; when the Cuban committed inaccuracies
that easily could have lost, the young Dake overlooked first a chance to win and then to draw
the game.
The Réti opening used by Capablanca against Santasiere was also interesting.
Capablanca–Anthony E. Santasiere [A07]

1. Nf3 Nf6 2. b3 d5 3. Bb2 Bf5 4. g3 e6 5. Bg2 Nbd7 6. 0–0 Bd6 7. d3 h6 8. Nbd2
Qe7 Better is 8. ... 0–0. 9. Re1 White can play 9. e4! d×e4 10. d×e4 Bg4 (if 10. ... B×e4
11. N×e4 N×e4 12. B×g7 Rh7 13. Bd4 with advantage) 11. Nc4 e5 12. h3 Bh5 13. Qd3 0–
0 14. N×d6 Q×d6 15. Rad1 with advantage. 9. ... e5 10. c4 c6 11. c×d5 c×d5 12. e4 d×e4
13. d×e4 Be6 If 13. ... Bg4 14. Nc4 Bb4 15. Re2 0–0 16. a3 Bc5 17. b4 Bb6 18. Qd6 Q×d6
19. N×d6 with advantage. 14. Nh4 g6 If 14. ... Bg4 15. f3 Be6 16. Nf5 Bc5+ 17. Kh1 B×f5
18. e×f5 0–0 19. f4 with advantage. If 14. ... 0–0 15. Nf5 B×f5 16. e×f5 with advantage.
15. Nf1 0–0 16. Ne3 Rfc8 Better is 16. ... Bb4 17. Re2 Rfd8 18. Nd5 B×d5 19. e×d5 with
only a small advantage for White (see diagram)
17. Nhf5! g×f5 If 17. ... B×f5 18. e×f5 Rc7 19. f×g6 f×g6
rDrDwDkD 20. Nd5 N×d5 21. Q×d5+ Kh7 22. Rad1 Bc5 23. Bh3 Rf8
0pDn1pDw 24. Re2 Nf6 25. Q×e5 and White is winning. 18. e×f5 e4
wDwgbhp0 19. f×e6 Stronger seems 19. Ng4 Bb4 20. R×e4 N×e4 21. B×e4
DwDw0wDw Bc3 22. B×c3 R×c3 23. Qd4 Qc5 24. N×h6+ Kh7 25. f×e6+
wDwDPDwH K×h6 26. Qd2+ Kg7 27. Q×d7 Qc7 28. Qd4+ f6 29. B×b7 and
DPDwHw)w White is winning. 19. ... Q×e6 20. Bh3 Q×h3 21. Q×d6 Any-
PGwDw)B)
$wDQ$wIw way, White has a winning position. 21. ... Rc6 22. Qf4 Re8
23. Rac1 Nh5 24. Qf5 Q×f5 25. N×f5 Ree6 26. R×c6 b×c6
After 16. … Rfc8 27. Rd1 Ne5 If 27. ... Nf8 28. Rd8 winning. If 27. ... Nb6 28. Rd8+
Kh7 29. Rh8+ Kg6 30. Nh4+ Kg5 31. Rg8+ winning. 28. N×h6+
Kg7 If 28. ... Kf8 29. Nf5 Nd3 30. Ba3+ Kg8 31. f3 winning. 29. Ng4 f6 30. B×e5 f×e5
31. Re1 Kg6 32. R×e4 Kf5 33. f3 Ng7 34. Ne3+ Kf6 35. Ra4 Rd6 If 35. ... Re7 36. Ra6
winning. 36. R×a7 Rd2 37. Ng4+ Black resigned. 1–0.
In the game against Herman Steiner, the Cuban faced the Siesta Variation as White.
Capablanca–Herman Steiner [C74]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 d6 5. c3 f5 6. e×f5 B×f5 7. d4 As we said before,
the best for White is: 7. 0–0 Bd3 8. Re1 Be7 9. Bc2 B×c2 10. Q×c2 Nf6 11. d4 e4 12. Ng5
d5 13. f3 h6 14. Nh3 0–0 15. Nd2 e×f3 16. N×f3 Qd7 17. Qg6 and White is a little better.
Leko–Yusupov, Vienna 1996. 7. ... e4 8. d5 Better is 8. Ng5 d5 9. f3 e3 10. f4 Bd6 11. Qh5+
g6 12. Qe2 Qe7 13. Q×e3 Q×e3+ 14. B×e3 Nf6 15. 0–0 0–0 although Black has compen-
sation for the pawn. 8. ... e×f3 9. d×c6 b5 10. Q×f3 If 10. Bc2 f×g2 11. Rg1 Qe7+ 12. Be3
Be4 13. B×e4 Q×e4 14. Nd2 Q×c6 15. Qf3 Q×f3 16. N×f3 Nf6 17. R×g2 g6 and Black is
winning. 10. ... B×b1 11. Bb3 If 11. R×b1 b×a4 12. 0–0 Nf6 13. Re1+ Be7 14. Qe2 Kf7
15. Qe6+ Kf8 16. Bf4 Qe8 17. Qc4 Qf7 and Black is winning. 11. ... Bg6 12. 0–0 Nf6 (see
diagram)
rDw1kgw4 13. Bg5 If 13. Bh6 Be4 14. Rae1 d5 15. Qe3 g×h6 16. f3 Bg7
Dw0wDw0p 17. f×e4 0–0 18. e×d5 Kh8 and Black is better. 13. ... Be7 14. Rfe1
pDP0whbD Kf8 15. Re3 Interesting is 15. h4 Bh5 16. Qf5 Bf7 17. h5 d5
DpDwDwDw 18. h6 Rg8 19. Re5 Qd6 20. Rae1 Re8 21. R1e3 a5 22. Rf3 Bd8
wDwDwDwD 23. R×e8+ K×e8 with an even game. 15. ... h6 16. B×f6 B×f6
DB)wDQDw 17. Qd5 Better seems 17. Rae1 Rb8 18. Qg4 Bf7 19. B×f7 K×f7
P)wDw)P) 20. Qe6+ Kf8 21. Qf5 Kg8 (if 21. ... b4 22. Re7 Q×e7 23. R×e7
$wGwDRIw K×e7 24. Qd7+ Kf8 25. Q×c7 Re8 26. f4 b×c3 27. b×c3 with
After 12. … Nf6 an even game) 22. Qe6+ Kf8 23. Qf5 and draw. 17. ... h5 18. g3
Better is 18. Rae1 Rb8 19. Rg3 Be8 20. Rge3 Bg6 21. Rg3 Be8
22. Rge3 and draw. 18. ... Qc8 If 18. ... Rb8 19. Rae1 b4 20. Bc4 b×c3 21. b×c3 Qc8 22. Rf3
Be8 23. Qg5 Rh6 24. Qd5 Rh8 and draw. 19. Re6 Qd8 If 19. ... h4 20. Rae1 Qd8 21. g4 Bf7
22. g5 B×g5 23. Rh6 B×d5 24. R×h8+ Kf7 25. R×d8 R×d8 26. B×d5+ Kf6 with an even
game. 20. Re3 Qc8 21. Re6 Qd8 Black accepts the draw. But he could play 21. ... b4 22. c×b4
Rb8 23. R×d6 Qf5 (but not 23. ... c×d6 24. Q×d6+ Be7 25. Q×g6) 24. Qd2 h4 with a
better position. Draw. ½–½.
After his victory in the New York tournament, unbeaten and with a point and a half
ahead of Kashdan, Capablanca sent, dated May 15, 1931, one of the last key letters to
Alekhine. In it, the Cuban emphasized an essential point to resolve the impasse, that the
date for the celebration of the match “must be one acceptable to those who supply the money.”
In the same correspondence, Capablanca made the observation that his letter of July 15,
1930, to Alekhine was not included in the selection that the champion published in the
French magazine L’Echiquier. That letter was important to the Cuban, “as it clearly proved
beyond any doubt that certain statements made by you could not be reconciled.” The letter
also addressed another hot topic: the subject of the deposit of $500 held by Lederer. Capa-
blanca told Alekhine: “[W]hen Dr. Lederer wrote to you on 13 June 1930, about the forfeit,
you raised no objection to his returning it to me, which would evidently imply that the
matter thereby came to an end.”
Capablanca boarded the ship Île de France on June 5 to compete in a series of 10 games
against Euwe, agreed to be held in three different cities in The Netherlands from July 17. For
almost two decades, Capablanca had not played a series against a master in Europe. The games
would allow him to increase his visibility at a time when chess activities were affected by the
New York 1931

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
1 Capablanca, José R. • ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 10
2 Kashdan, Isaac ½ • 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 1 81⁄2
3 Kevitz, Alexander 0 0 • ½ 0 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 7
4 Steiner, Herman ½ ½ ½ • ½ ½ 0 1 0 ½ ½ 1 51⁄2 29.25
5 Horowitz, Israel 0 0 1 ½ • ½ 0 1 0 1 1 ½ 51⁄2 26.25
6 Kupchik, Abraham 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ • 0 1 ½ ½ 1 1 51⁄2 24.75
7 Santasiere, Anthony 0 0 0 1 1 1 • 0 0 0 1 1 5
8 Turover, Isador 0 ½ ½ 0 0 0 1 • 1 1 ½ 0 41⁄2
9 Lasker, Edward 0 0 0 1 1 ½ 1 0 • ½ 0 0 4 20.75
10 Dake, Arthur 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ 1 0 ½ • 0 1 4 19.25
11 Marshall, Frank J. 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 ½ 1 1 • 1 4 15.50
12 Fox, Maurice 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 1 1 0 0 • 21⁄2
economic constraints of the time. It would also assist him in the preparation for a possible
match for the world championship. The Dutch master had already carried out similar short
series against Alekhine and Bogoljubow, losing both by the minimum margin of one point.
The match against Capablanca had been announced since January 4, when both masters
were taking part in the tournament in Hastings.
Capablanca defeated Euwe by two points, without losing any of the games, but there
was more struggle and interesting details than that score might suggest. The match also
showed that to the Cuban it was hard to play the modern openings without problems. That
happened to him in the fifth game of the match and in the eighth and tenth. In these last
two games, Capablanca fell into a well-known trap of the Queen’s Indian Defense that bears
the name of the Italian master Mario Monticelli, as he used the tactical resource in his
encounter against Ladislav Prokeš, Budapest 1926. Following some mistakes by Euwe, Capa-
blanca was able to draw the eighth game. The Cuban re-entered the same trap in the tenth
and last game of the match, in which an improvement on his part made him draw again.
Roberto Grau said about that sequence in his book Estrategia Superior that Capablanca fell
into the trap, “Once by mistake and the other for self-esteem.”
The games in which Capablanca fell into the Monticelli Trap developed in this way:
Machgielis (Max) Euwe–Capablanca [E16]

Match, 8th Game, Amsterdam, 26 July 1931
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nf3 b6 4. g3 Bb7 5. Bg2 Bb4+ Nowadays the main variation is
5. ... Be7 6. 0–0 0–0 7. Nc3 Ne4 8. Qc2 N×c3 9. Q×c3 c5 10. Rd1 d6 11. b3 Bf6 12. Bb2
Qc7 13. Qd2 Rd8 with an even game. 6. Bd2 B×d2+ 7. Q×d2 0–0 8. Nc3 Ne4 9. Qc2
N×c3 (see diagram)
10. Ng5 The famous Monticelli Trap: White wins the
rhw1w4kD exchange. 10. ... Ne4 Or 10. ... Q×g5 11. B×b7 Nc6 12. B×a8
0b0pDp0p N×e2 13. Q×e2 R×a8 14. Qd3 Qa5+ 15. Kf1 d5 16. Kg2 Rd8
w0wDpDwD 17. Rhd1 Nb4 18. Qa3 (worth considering is 18. Qb3 d×c4
DwDwDwDw 19. Q×c4 Nd5 20. Rd3) 18. ... Q×a3 19. b×a3 Na6 20. Rac1 Kf8
wDP)wDwD with an even game. Portisch–Andersson, Tilburg 1983. 11. B×e4
DwhwDN)w B×e4 12. Q×e4 Q×g5 13. Q×a8 Nc6 14. Qb7 N×d4 15. Rd1
P)QDP)B) If 15. 0–0 N×e2+ 16. Kh1 Qc5 17. Qe4 Nd4 18. Rad1 e5 19. Qd5
$wDwIwDR
Van der Sterren–Korchnoi, Antwerp 1994. And now Black can
After 9. … N×c3 play 19. ... d6 with an even game. 15. ... Qe5 15. ... c5 Euwe–
Capablanca, Match (10) 1931. 16. e3 Nc2+ 17. Ke2 d5 18. Rd2
Q×b2 Maybe better is 18. ... Nb4 19. b3 d×c4 20. b×c4 Qc5 21. Qe4 Qa5 22. Ra1 but White
is much better. 19. c×d5 Qb5+ 20. Kf3 Nb4 21. Rc1 Stronger is 21. Q×c7 N×d5 22. Qe5
Qc6 23. e4 Nf6 24. Rhd1 and White is winning. 21. ... Qa5 Better is 21. ... N×d5 22. Q×a7
c5 23. Kg2 Qc6 24. e4 Nc7 25. Rcd1 Q×e4+ 26. f3 Qe5 with an even game. 22. d6 c×d6
23. Rc8 g6 24. R×f8+ K×f8 25. Qc8+ Ke7 If 25. ... Kg7 26. Qc3+ Kh6 27. Kg2 Qc5 28. Qf6
Qc6+ 29. Kh3 Qe4 30. Q×f7 and White is winning. 26. Qc7+ Kf6 27. Qc3+ Better is
27. Q×d6 Nd5 28. Rd3 Qe1 29. Kg2 Qb1 30. Qa3 Kg7 31. e4 Nf6 32. Qc3 e5 33. a3 and
White is winning. 27. ... Ke7 28. Qc7+ Kf6 29. Qd8+ Better is 29. Q×d6 Qf5+ 30. Kg2
Nc2 31. Qf4 Q×f4 32. e×f4 Nb4 33. a3 Nd5 34. Rc2 and White is winning. 29. ... Kg7
30. Q×d6 N×a2 31. Qd4+ e5 32. Qd5 Q×d5+ 33. R×d5 e4+ 34. Kf4 Nb4 35. Rb5 Better
is 35. Rd4 Nd3+ 36. K×e4 N×f2+ 37. Kf3 Nh3 38. Rd7 Ng5+ 39. Kg4 Ne6 40. R×a7 with
a winning position. 35. ... Nd3+ 36. K×e4 N×f2+ 37. Kd4 f5 38. Rb2 Ng4 39. h3 Nf6
40. Rc2 Ne4 41. g4 Kf6 42. g×f5 K×f5 43. Rc7 Ng5 44. R×a7 h5 45. Ra3 Nf3+ 46. Kd3
Ng1 47. Kd2 Better is 47. Kd4 Nf3+ 48. Kd5 g5 49. Ra8 g4 50. Rf8+ Kg5 51. h×g4 h×g4
52. Ke4 Nh4 53. Rb8 winning. 47. ... g5 48. Rb3 h4 49. R×b6 N×h3 50. Ke2 g4 51. Rb5+
Ke4 52. Rb4+ Kf5 53. Kf1 Kg5 54. Rb5+ Or 54. Kg2 Kf5 55. Rd4 Kg5 56. Rd8 Kf5 57. Rh8
Ke4 58. R×h4 K×e3 59. R×g4 Nf4+ and draw. 54. ... Kg6 55. Rb4 Kh5 56. Rb5+ Ng5
draw. ½–½.
Machgielis (Max) Euwe–Capablanca [E16]

1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nf3 b6 4. g3 Bb7 5. Bg2 Bb4+ 6. Bd2 B×d2+ 7. Q×d2 0–0
8. Nc3 Ne4 9. Qc2 N×c3 10. Ng5 Ne4 11. B×e4 B×e4 12. Q×e4 Q×g5 13. Q×a8 Nc6
14. Qb7 N×d4 15. Rd1 (see diagram)
15. ... c5 Capablanca played 15. ... Qe5 in the eighth game wDwDw4kD
of the match. 16. e3 If 16. Rd2 d5 17. Q×a7 Qe5 18. Kf1 Qg5 0Q0pDp0p
19. f4 Qg6 20. Kf2 Qe4 21. Rhd1 Nc2 22. Rd3 Nb4 with an even w0wDpDwD
game. 16. ... Nc2+ 17. Kd2 Qf5 18. Qg2 If 18. f3 Nb4 19. Ke2 DwDwDw1w
Qc2+ 20. Rd2 Q×c4+ 21. Kf2 with an even game. Goldin–Jail- wDPhwDwD
jan, USSR 1984. 18. ... Nb4 19. e4 Qf6 20. Kc1 N×a2+ 21. Kb1 DwDwDw)w
P)wDP)w)
Nb4 22. R×d7 Nc6 23. f4 e5 24. Rhd1 Nd4 25. R×a7 If 25. f×e5
DwDRIwDR
Q×e5 26. R×a7 Qe6 27. Rc1 Rd8 28. Ra6 h6 29. Rc3 Nc6
30. R×b6 (if 30. Qf3 Nd4 31. Qd3 Nc6 32. Qe2 Nb4 33. Ra1 After 15. Rd1
Rd4 34. Re3 Qd6 35. Rc3 Qe6 with an even game) 30. ... Rd1+
31. Rc1 R×c1+ 32. K×c1 Q×c4+ 33. Qc2 Qf1+ and draw. 25. ... e×f4 26. g×f4 Q×f4
27. Re1 Nf3 28. Re2 Nd4 29. Re1 draw. ½–½.
In this short match Capablanca was not aware of the development of the Bogoljubow–
Alekhine game of the tournament in San Remo 1930. When Euwe, astonished, asked him
if it was not known to him, the Cuban replied calmly: “How, if I wasn’t there?” Which did
not prevent him from improving Bogoljubow’s line and “destroying,” as he put it afterwards,
Alekhine’s opening analysis.
Capablanca–Machgielis (Max) Euwe [D17]

1. d4 Nf6 2. Nf3 d5 3. c4 c6 4. Nc3 d×c4 5. a4 Bf5 6. Ne5 rDwDkgw4
Nbd7 7. N×c4 Qc7 8. g3 e5 9. d×e5 N×e5 10. Bf4 Nfd7 11. Bg2 0pDwDp0p
Be6 Or 11. ... f6 12. 0–0 Be6 (interesting is 12. ... 0–0–0) wDpDbDwD
13. N×e5 f×e5 14. Be3 Bc5 15. Qc1 0–0 16. a5 h6 17. Rd1 B×e3 1wDwhwDw
18. Q×e3 a6 19. b4 and White is a little better. Stohl–Hübner, PDwDwGwD
Bad Worishofen 1993. 12. N×e5 N×e5 13. 0–0 Maybe better is DwHwDw)w
13. Qd4 f6 14. a5 a6 15. Ne4 Rd8 16. Qc3 Bd5 17. 0–0 with an w)wDP)B)
small advantage for White. Torre–Hübner, Tilburg 1982. 13. ... $wDQDRIw
Qa5 (see diagram) After 13. ... Qa5
Better seems 13. ... f6 14. Qc2 Bb4 15. Nb5 Qe7 16. Nd4 a5 17. Be4 g6 18. N×e6 Q×e6
19. Rad1 0–0 20. B×e5 f×e5 21. Rd3 with a small advantage for White. 14. Ne4 If 14. Qc2
f6 15. Ne4 Bb4 16. Rfc1 Rd8 with an even game. Bogoljubow–Alekhine, San Remo 1930.
14. ... Rd8 15. Qc2 Be7 If 15. ... Bb4 16. Ng5 Bc8 17. Rfd1 R×d1+ 18. R×d1 f6 19. Rd5 Qc7
20. B×e5 f×e5 21. Be4 with a winning position. 16. b4! B×b4 If 16. ... Qc7 17. Nc5 Bc8
18. Qe4 f6 19. Nd3 Bd6 20. b5 c5 21. Rac1 b6 22. B×e5 f×e5 23. f4 “and White wins a pawn
with a very strong position besides” (Capablanca). 17. Qb2 f6 18. Rfb1? “This is a mistake
leading to all kinds of complications. By simply playing the other rook to b1, White would
have won at least a pawn with a very safe position. Thus: 18. Rab1 Be7 19. Q×b7 Kf7
20. B×e5 f×e5 21. Q×c6 and White has a pawn more and a safe game” (Capablanca). 18. ...
0–0 If 18. ... Nc4 19. N×f6+ Kf7 20. Q×b4 Rd1+ 21. R×d1 Q×b4 22. Ne4 Re8 23. Rab1
Qa5 24. Ng5+ Kg6 25. Rd4 “and White would have an easy win on account of the exposed
position of the Black king” (Capablanca). But it seems that Black can defend this position
with 25. ... Bd5 26. e4 Qc5 27. Rbd1 h6. 19. B×e5 f×e5 20. Ng5 Bc3 Better is 20. ... Bf7
21. Rd1 R×d1+ (if 21. ... Bc3 22. Qc2 g6 23. R×d8 R×d8 24. Rc1) 22. R×d1 Q×a4 23. Rd7
h6 24. N×f7 R×f7 25. Q×e5 R×d7 26. Qe8+ Bf8 27. Q×d7 Qb5 28. Qe6+ Kh8 29. Be4
Q×e2 30. Qg6 Kg8 31. Qe6+ Kh8 32. Qg6 and draw. 21. Qc2 Bf5 22. Be4 g6 If 22. ... B×e4
23. Q×e4 g6 24. Qc4+ Rd5 25. Ra2 h6 26. e4 winning. 23. Qa2+ Now White is winning.
23. ... Kg7 24. R×b7+ Rd7 25. Rab1 Qa6 26. Qb3 Stronger is 26. R×d7+ B×d7 27. Rb8
Bc8 28. Bd3 Qa5 29. R×c8 winning. 26. ... R×b7 27. Q×b7+ Q×b7 28. R×b7+ Kg8
29. B×c6 Rd8 30. R×a7 Rd6 31. Be4 Bd7 32. h4 Bd4 33. Ra8+ Kg7 34. e3 Bc3 35. Bf3
In addition to being one of the most interesting games of the match, it also highlighted
a type of inaccuracy that occurred sometimes in Capablanca’s career: to move the wrong
rook with fatal consequences in some cases, which as already mentioned happened in one
of the three games he played against Tarrasch in the tournament of St. Petersburg 1914.
In Paris, Znosko-Borovsky wrote in the Russian newspaper Posledniye Novosti:
You might hardly expect that the match between two players such as Capablanca and Euwe, who
generally avoid all risk, could provide games so interesting and lively. Therefore, it is a great
surprise to note that almost all the games were played in a bold, vivid style with piece sacrifices
and combinations.... Such is the strength of Capablanca, even weakened, that he wins despite his
many faults, and despite his ignorance, because it is clear that sometimes he is not aware of the
new achievements of contemporary chess thought. If Euwe figured himself able to beat the
former champion in skill, he terribly deceived himself. Even in his current state, Capablanca
continues to be a formidable fighter. What is missing in Capablanca is his willingness to
overcome the opponent; in a superior position he does not make the effort to succeed [repro-
duced in El Ajedrez Americano, June-July 1932, pages 148–149].
Capablanca went back to Cuba from the French port of Le Havre on board the ship
Paris on August 25. Before leaving, he offered in Amsterdam on August 1 a simultaneous
display with the result of 26 wins, 3 losses and 3 draws. Three days later, in The Hague, he
won 26 and lost 2. It is possible that during that trip he played a simultaneous session in
London on June 14, which in the book of Brandreth and Hooper appears mistakenly as
April 14, when he was in Havana. A press release dated June 6 in New York mentioned that
the Cuban “sailed yesterday on the Île de France to give two exhibitions in London on June
13 and 14.” One of the results was 19 wins, 1 loss and 1 draw.
Capablanca was back in Havana on September 8 after he booked passage on the Morro
Castle, for a stay of less than a month; on October 13 he boarded the same boat from Havana
and returned to New York on October 16. The trip was another effort to arrange a rematch
which, as the chess publications began to suspect, every day became more and more unlikely.
The British Chess Magazine of November 1931, after lamenting that Capablanca was not
among the invitees to the tournament in the Slovenian town of Bled in 1931, mentioned in
addition: “The hopes of a return match between them [Alekhine and Capablanca] for the
championship appear to have been postponed to the Greek Calendar.”
In New York, Capablanca said that negotiations for the rematch were in the hands of
Harold M. Phillips, who was in Europe at the time. It was Phillips who declared to the New
York Times on September 20, 1931, that after meeting with Alekhine in Paris, he “had found
the title holder to be open to the discussion of negotiations along any reasonable lines that
may be suggested.” Phillips was also optimistic when he added: “The prospects [for the
championship] are bright and the United States is the logical country in which the contest
should take place.”
While he was in New York, Capablanca learned on December 6 about the death of
Julius Finn, whose blind simultaneous display in Brooklyn at the beginning of the century
served to introduce the Cuban to Emanuel Lasker. Finn was also one of Capablanca’s friends
whom the Cuban asked in 1927 to manage the organization of a second match against
Alekhine in case the confrontation in Buenos Aires ended by mutual agreement with neither
victor nor vanquished. Capablanca returned to Havana via Key West on December 22. He
still took one more trip to New York on January 12 via the Florida Keys on board the ferry
Cuba without any other apparent aim than to continue his efforts for a world championship
match. Capablanca returned to Havana on March 20, 1932, to court again the management
of the Hotel Nacional, which once again offered its support to serve as venue for the cham-
pionship. It was in that hotel where on Sunday, May 15, he had a simultaneous exhibition
against 330 rivals who played in consultation on 66 boards, of which Havana’s press said
that it was a new world record that exceeded the one set in Paris (February 22) by Alekhine
against 300 rivals in 60 boards. Since Capablanca won against 46 teams, lost against 4 and
drew with the remaining 16, that outcome was highlighted by the Havana press as an addi-
tional indicator that the Cuban was superior to the Russian-French master, who, in Paris,
achieved a result of 37 wins, 6 losses and 17 draws. The island’s journalists said, without any
kind of modesty, that since the Havana chess players are much stronger than the Parisians,
Capablanca’s feat is the more extraordinary. Also, the Cuban capital’s press made mockery
of the excuses of Alekhine. A respected editor, Arturo Alfonso Roselló, wrote that immedi-
ately after the Russian-French master won his crown he climbed with joy onto a bicycle and
since then, the only thing he does is ride away. Unfortunately, Cuba’s economic and political
crisis was much more serious than this festive chronicle by Roselló on Alekhine.
Disheartened by his unanswered challenge, Capablanca left the chess scene. Some feared
forever.
15. Twilight Intermezzo
If the world was in financial shambles, in Cuba it was a catastrophe. A part of the pop-
ulation was starving as at the end of the 19th century.
Unemployment rose to 50 percent, according to the critics of the Machado regime.
“This is not a crisis, this is an Armageddon,” wrote the influential journalist Luis Gómez
Wangüemert in Carteles magazine. Even President Franklin Delano Roosevelt was alerted
to the dramatic situation by a private letter from his friend George Miller of the Detroit
News, who wrote him after visiting Cuba: “Hungry and jobless men are swarming the cities,
and clamoring for the intervention of the United States.”1 Of course there was little hope
for a competition of the magnitude of a world chess championship. The sugar production
corresponding to the harvest of 1931–1932 was the lowest since 1915, while the global eco-
nomic downturn brought down the price of the product to less than a penny (about 18 cents
in 2015) for one pound.
To make matters worse the political repression now reached the Capablanca family,
three of whose members, Zenaida, Ramiro and Gloria’s brother-in-law Carlos Peláez, were
conspiring to overthrow the government. On June 7, Ramiro Capablanca, then a law professor
at the University of Havana, was arrested on charges of belonging to the opposition group
ABC, which was accused of terrorism. ABC members were mainly well-known figures of
the Cuban intellectual and financial worlds, and they fought Machado using any means—
from assassinating policemen or regime officials (what they called “execution of hit men”)
to bombings that many times killed innocent victims. Among the arrested in the same crack-
down was Dr. Eduardo Finlay, son of Cuban scientist Dr. Carlos J. Finlay. The dispatch sent
to the New York Times giving an account of the arrests, which was published on June 8, 1932,
ended by stating: “Secret operatives continue daily to make arrests of persons charged with
working against the present administration, but the public generally gives little credence to
the evidence of revolutionary plots.”
Ramiro Capablanca was able to get out of jail thanks to a habeas corpus petition filed
by his lawyer and went immediately into hiding until December 16, when he surreptitiously
boarded the shuttle Governor Cobb headed for Key West. On September 27, he had narrowly
avoided being killed at the residence of his friends, and perhaps fellow conspirators, the
brothers Leopoldo, Guillermo, and Gonzalo Freyre de Andrade, brothers of General Freyre
de Andrade who had organized the 1913 Havana chess tournament, and who had played a
key role in getting Capablanca accepted into the Cuban foreign service. General Andrade
had died on October 24, 1929, so his political influence could no longer protect his rebel
siblings. The Freyre de Andrade brothers were massacred in their house in retaliation for
390
the death, three days before, of Clemente Vázquez Bello, president of the Cuban senate, who
had been among the people who backed Capablanca’s trip to Moscow in 1925. According
to Zenaida Capablanca, his brother José Raúl was also visiting the Freyre de Andrade brothers
the night before the onslaught. Public figures who had helped Capablanca in his endeavors
were now dying violently on both sides of the war against Machado.
Under the circumstances, the invitation received by Capablanca to participate in August
in the Pasadena, California, international tournament was a godsend, as if Caissa had once
more interceded to protect her once favorite son. On June 28, Capablanca responded to
Henry MacMahon, the tournament organizer, that he would attend in the certainty that the
few pending details would indeed be resolved by then. The letter shows that, despite the
tough economic conditions prevalent in Cuba at the moment, Capablanca still allowed him-
self a certain freedom of negotiation concerning his travel expenses.
Union Club, Havana, 28 June 1932.
Dear Mr. MacMahon:
Your letter found me ill in bed. I’m now O.K. and up again.
I find that first class round trip is $285.00 [$5000 in 2015]. Travelling costs a great deal not
only because of tips, etc., but because there are always extra expenses, things unlooked for. As I
told you in my last letter I do not expect the $400 [$1700] to cover all my expenses. As much as
I would like to go, I am sorry to say I can no go further in the matter of terms. It will be the first
time I play without a substantial cash bonus since 1911.
Please remember me to Mr. Lippman and tell him I shall be glad to accept his hospitality for a
couple of days after the tournament.
During the tournament I must be totally free and that is why I have insisted all through my
letters upon a certain kind of accommodation in a first class hotel. This part, however, from
what you told me is already settled.
Hoping to see you soon, I remain
Sincerely yours,
J.R. Capablanca
P.S. When will the tournament begin and when will I have to be in Los Angeles? [Figueredo-
Romero Archives].
Some days before this letter was written, on June 12, the magazine Carteles reported
that Cuba was preparing to send five players to a Pan-American tournament of chess parallel
to the Los Angeles Olympic Games, for which a collection was made to raise 2,000 pesos
($34,000) in order to fund their expenses. President Machado denied the possibility of con-
tributing to it with public funds, but in his personal capacity donated 200 pesos.
The tournament never took place. In the midst of these arrangements, Dr. Angel de
Albear, president of the Cuban Federation of Chess, received a letter from MacMahon in which
he apologized for not being able to invite Capablanca—because Alekhine had asked for a fee
of $2,000 to participate in case the Cuban master came.2 After such news, Albear decided to
sever his ties to MacMahon “for the honor of the country,” and denounced his conduct.
When Manuel Golmayo asked, from the pages of the Madrid newspaper ABC, the
question: “Why does Capablanca not participate in international tourneys?” the answer
turned out to be that Alekhine was blocking him from participating by asking for special
fees if the Cuban master was invited. If Capablanca did not attend, however, the world cham-
pion did not request additional fees, or, if he did, they would be much lower, so his demands
were of a discriminatory character, and different from the practice, usual for the big stars,
of asking for a fee in exchange for their participation, regardless of who the other competitors
were. Rudolf Spielmann, too, accused the world champion of blocking his participation in
tournaments in his famous open letter “J’Accuse,” in the manner of Émile Zola. Spielmann
similarly mentioned that Alekhine was blocking Capablanca’s participation as well.3
On the other hand, when Aberlardo Fernández Arias, also from the influential ABC,
asked Capablanca, “When is the world chess championship going to be played?” the Cuban
master responded, “Whenever Alekhine wants.” Intrigued by the nuances in the answer, the
reporter asked: “Why are you telling me that?” Capablanca elaborated: “Because for the last
four years I have been challenging him, and he never makes up his mind about accepting it.
He never says ‘no,’ but the match is not being held. He is barricading himself behind inter-
pretations of the rules … he is dragging his feet so I cannot face him.”4 In that interview
Capablanca admitted that, upon winning in Buenos Aires, Alekhine “was exercising a legit-
imate right” to demand the enforcement of the London Rules, but not after his repeated
violations. Arias asked him: “But, isn’t there, like in every other sport, a federation or…?”
Capablanca’s answer was: “That’s the only thing I overlooked, a good regulatory body: the
creation of a jury with enough powers so these things did not have to happen. There is,
indeed, a commission of sorts based in The Hague, but it lacks the moral weight or the coer-
cive power to enforce the measures necessary to avoid cases like the present.”
There was no alternative left to the Cuban master other than to complain to the press
about MacMahon and Alekhine’s positions, as well as to express his appreciation for the act
of solidarity by Dr. Albear and the Cuban Chess Federation in breaking all ties with Pasadena.
On July 14 he wrote to Lederer: “Our friend A. [Alekhine] has asked the California people
for two thousand dollars for playing in case I participate, and nothing if I do not play. Then
he says he is not afraid and that he does not object or make difficulties about my participating
in any tournament in which he plays—I believe these facts should be published.…”5
Banned from the few international events held at that time, Capablanca had to go into
involuntary retirement from chess. That year, he gave two lectures on chess, one at the Com-
munications Club on May 17, and the other at the Havana Chess Club, on May 25. The
reviews of both lectures (Carteles, June 5, 1932) indicated that, whereas the first one was
dedicated to general theory,6 the second one, on May 25, “was of a more technical character,
and was at the same time more factual and practical than theoretical.” In that lecture Capa-
blanca analyzed the ninth game of his 1931 match with Euwe, and the Slav Defense based
on the Bogoljubow–Alekhine game at the 1930 San Remo Tournament.
Capablanca’s forced stay on the island was a pleasure for Cuban fans, and even an incen-
tive for Cuba’s most prominent players, since the former world champion attended on several
occasions the main tournaments, such as that of the Havana Chess Club. There is a story
about this time told by Antonio Alfonso Benítez, a childhood friend of Tuto’s. According
to Benítez, Capablanca came into the house while he (Benítez) was explaining to Tuto how
to place and move the pieces. The ex–world champion did not make any comment while he
observed a child initiating another in the mysteries of chess. When Benítez stopped talking,
perhaps daunted by Capablanca’s presence, the master told him that he was very good at
teaching chess and congratulated him.7
It was obvious that Capablanca did not want his son to develop a passion for the game,
although he never went so far as Blackburne, who supposedly once said that, if he learned that
his son was playing chess, he would kill him. What escaped little Antonio Benítez at the time
was that the several minutes Capablanca spent listening to him perhaps influenced the simple
language he would later use in A Primer of Chess, published in 1935, and in his unfinished
radio lessons from 1941 to 1942, known as Legacy or Capablanca’s Last Lectures. Later, a leg-
end became popular in Cuba: that Capablanca had thought that the best way to teach some-
body to play chess, especially children, was to initially show them only the placement and
movements of the pawns, with the only goal being that the first to promote a pawn would
win the game. According to this method, the rest of the pieces would be added one by one
as the apprentice showed progress during each phase. That way, by the time all the pieces
were on the chessboard, it was presumed that the student had a solid grip on the principles
and tactics of the game.
The present author remembers Dr. Gelabert teaching in this way the son of a prominent
member of the Capablanca Club in Havana, in 1962 or 1963. Alberto García also referred
to this method of teaching chess as the “Capablanca method,” but Capablanca himself did
not leave anything about it in writing. While Capablanca never taught chess to his children,
it is family lore that he did teach them to play tennis. Thanks to his granddaughters Gloria
and Mercedes, it is known that he attended his son Tuto’s baseball games, and that he took
him to the games of the Cuban professional baseball league, which at the time took place
at the Vedado Tennis Club or the so-called Gran Stadium Cervecería Tropical, closer to his
Buena Vista home. The brewery that owned the baseball fields was the same one that hired
Capablanca in 1927 to advertise its products, both beer and nonalcoholic malt. This was
one of the first times that a chess player was used to promote a commercial product.
In early 1933, Capablanca was a grandmaster distanced from practice, either as a con-
sequence of his own stalling in regard to the issue of a return match, or of the conditions
exacted by Alekhine every time Capablanca could be invited to a tournament. However,
there was no altercation when the world champion stepped on Cuban soil for the first time
on October 30, 1932. Alekhine was on his way to New York coming from Mexico, where,
after having participated in the Pasadena tournament, he played in a less important compe-
tition at the Mexican capital, where the only other renowned player was Kashdan. After sail-
ing from Veracruz to New York, Alekhine spent a few hours at the Cuban capital, and Dr.
Albear, who welcomed him at the dock, did not deem it appropriate to offer himself as a
host and take him in his car around the city, as he did with Lasker in 1921. So the world
champion visited the tourist attractions of Havana accompanied by the captain of the ship
he was traveling in, the Oriente. Alekhine told the members of the press who came to the
port to interview him that “it was not true that he did not want to face Capablanca.” He
also said, very diplomatically, that he “had been amazed” by Havana. A photograph of him
appeared on the front page of the sports section of Diario de la Marina the following day,
October 31; other newspapers mentioned his visit of just a few hours. It is highly plausible
that on the day of Alekhine’s brief visit, Capablanca took his son to watch the Almendares
baseball club’s right-handed pitcher Adolfo Luque, who won 1–0 against the Marianao team
in the Vedado Tennis Club that Sunday afternoon.
Back in Europe, Alekhine commented publicly that there was an enormous interest in
chess in Mexico, especially among high government officials. He said that Mexicans were
willing to raise $15,000 (almost $275,000 in 2015) to celebrate a world championship match
between himself and Capablanca. The news, of course, caused a stir and raised hopes in
Havana. However, when Capablanca contacted one of Mexico’s main chess figures, Joaquín
Araiza, Araiza told him that it was not true. Nevertheless, he invited Capablanca to come
on a tour, lecturing and giving exhibitions, to test the possibility of raising such funds.
On January 28, 1933, Capablanca jumped back into the action in Cuba with a simul-
taneous exhibition against 37 rivals. This time, he won 33 and drew 4. A month later, on
February 26, he faced 27 with an outcome of 26 victories and 1 draw. The most interesting
of his Havana performances in 1933 took place on Sunday, March 5, with an eight-board
simultaneous exhibition with clocks, with the characteristic that, while he only had a minute
for each move, his adversaries had three, and they could roll them over if they moved before
the allotted time was up. Some strong players, like Francisco Planas and Alejandro Meylán,
went against the ex-champion in a one-on-one fashion, but the other six boards were played
by teams of two to three persons, with the inclusion of well-known players such as the team
of chess reporters Evelio Bermúdez and José R. Florido. Thirty-three years later, in 1956,
Florido faced a 13-year-old Robert Fischer in Havana during the match between the Log
Cabin Chess Club, from New Jersey, and Havana’s Club Capablanca.8
The only one who was able to bring a game to a draw was Planas, after 48 moves. Capa-
blanca used 42 minutes, that is, less than a minute per move. Planas took 92 minutes, which
made his speed exceptional going against such a potent player as Capablanca. “The former
world chess champion turned in an extremely brilliant performance in the great exhibition
of timed games,” was the consensus of Havana newspapers the following day, after reminding
their readers that Capablanca was leaving that day on a long tour that would take him to
Panama and the United States. They could not predict the dangerous drama that Capablanca
would live through during the next few hours.
On the night of March 5, Machado’s police surrounded Capablanca’s house. The target
of the operation was not the former champion himself, but Carlos Peláez Cossío, husband
In 1932 before the split in the Cuban Chess Federation, Capablanca (right center) was invited
by Swiss diplomats to a dinner, together with Dr. Angel de Albear (front), then president of the
federation. Juan Corzo is seated at far left and journalist Arturo Roselló is seated at far right
between Capablanca and Albear (courtesy Mercedes Capablanca).
of Amalia Simoni Betancourt, Gloria’s sister. Peláez had been known as a conspirator since
the era of President Alfredo Zayas. Possibly, he was at the center of the press reports published
both in New York and Barcelona, at the beginning of May 1924, in which the then–world
champion was mentioned as the author of a proclamation against President Zayas. Capa-
blanca denied the rumors, but said the “rebels” were his friends. Peláez’s letters to Capablanca
in 1924 showed that he was trying to send weapons and armed expeditions to Cuba.9
Although Peláez was a member of the Liberal Party—which was also Zayas’s and Machado’s—
his group, led by followers of ex–President José Miguel Gómez (who had died in 1921), had
been railroaded by Machado at the 1924 Party Convention, where the future dictator gained
his nomination for the presidency of Cuba. Peláez was a part of the circle of “trusted men”
and minister of the interior of Miguel Mariano Gómez, the son of the former President
Gómez who would himself be president in 1936. In the political slang of the time, a “trusted
man” meant an individual who was willing to do anything for his boss, including acts of vio-
lence. Peláez was one of those people who saw themselves as destined for martyrdom for the
good of their motherland. Machado’s police reckoned him a dangerous man.
The account told by Zenaida Capablanca to this author about what happened that
night suggests that Capablanca helped Peláez escape through his back yard.10 Peláez made
it to the Mexican embassy, where he requested political asylum. The Mexican diplomat
Carlos Fruvas Garnica later mentioned that not only Peláez, but also Ramiro Capablanca
were granted asylum in the Mexican embassy in Havana. In that case the Machado police
were looking for both of them at Jose Raúl’s house in Buena Vista. After helping Peláez, and
probably also his brother, Capablanca then went in haste to the house of his neighbor, Dr.
José María Barraqué, Machado’s former Minister of Justice, but still somebody close to the
administration, to whom he explained what had transpired. Capablanca never talked publicly
about this episode but some close friends of his, like Alberto García or Armando Bucelo,
were aware of it, and at some time mentioned it in their remembrances about the master.
But Zenaida’s account is the only firm source about what happened that day in the wee hours
of the morning. According to her, Barraqué himself took Capablanca to the port in his car,
as a gesture of courtesy and protection. From Zenaida’s account in 1974 it is not clear if
Capablanca returned that night to his home; nor whether there was any danger to Gloria
and their children, or if he returned with Barraqué to pick up his luggage, albeit hurriedly.
Apparently that was the way it happened, because it was mentioned in Panama that he had
been seen shopping at Modas Marcos, a store on Avenida Central in the Panamanian capital
that sold fine clothing and imported neckties.11
The agents of Machado’s secret police never raided Capablanca’s house, perhaps waiting
for an order that did not arrive. As far as it is known, Machado’s police force rarely abused
the wives and children of the enemies of his administration. Moreover, Capablanca was
hardly an unknown, so maltreatment of this nature would have had international repercus-
sions, especially in the United States. Perhaps such a noisy maneuver with several patrol cars
was an act of intimidation, not a real raid. We will never know. Nor will we ever know if a
comment made by Capablanca at some point angered either Machado or any of his officials,
nor even if any of them acted without the dictator’s consent. Nine years later, in Capablanca’s
obituary, the New York Times observed that only on one occasion was Capablanca publicly
in disharmony with his country’s government; this was most likely it, but the incidents of
1924 in New York should not be ruled out either.
The ship Pennsylvania departed Havana with Capablanca on board the same day, March
6, headed for California, with a stopover in Panama. His visit to the latter country was
known at least since Monday, February 20, when the newspaper La Estrella de Panamá
announced that the chess players who would face off against the Cuban master in one of his
exhibitions had already been chosen. On Thursday, March 9, the main headline of the sports
section of the newspaper highlighted that the former world champion would be arriving the
next day, giving the news preference over the game between two of the main baseball teams
of the country, Panteras de Ancón and Fuerte Roxy. Admiral Noble E. Irwin, head of the
15th Naval District, who in late December of the previous year had invited Capablanca to
stay at his home in case he ever visited Panama, also expected Capablanca’s arrival.12
It is hard to pinpoint how a friendship was started between Capablanca and Admiral
Irwin—considered one of the pioneers of naval aviation in the United States. However, since
both their names appear listed in the passenger log of the ship Western World, which took
the then world champion to São Paulo, Brazil, in July of 1927, it can be safely assumed that
they met there. Irwin was on his way to the South American country, where he had been
assigned as naval attaché. During such trips on ocean liners the chess elite would get to meet
the world’s most famous people. On one of those trips, Emanuel Lasker had his meals during
the whole journey in the company of Thomas Alva Edison. In Irwin’s case, his admiration
for the Cuban master seemed to be genuine, for besides receiving him in Balboa with military
honors, and lodging him in his own home, he arranged a farewell reception for him on his
flagship, the battle cruiser Memphis. Three days later, when Capablanca offered his first
simultaneous session at the Cuban embassy in Panama City, he asked Cuban ambassador
Raúl Masvidal to set two additional tables: one for Irwin, and the other for the ambassador
himself. None of those encounters ended in a protocol draw, because Capablanca won all
20 games, although Irwin sent in his place one of his commanding officials, named Wilson,
while the ambassador ceded his own table to another guest.
A diligent local reporter, M.A. Gandásegu, wrote the games down move by move and
at the end counted a total of 674, with an average of 33.7 moves per board in less than two
hours. “His opponents’ time totaled 1,885 minutes, and the average time per move per player
was 2.79 minutes.” It was the first time that Panamanian chess players had had the oppor-
tunity of watching a star of such magnitude, and they were beside themselves.
It was intensely interesting to watch the champion in action and the spectators breathlessly
watched him as he passed from table to table. The excitement and the tension of both the
players and the audience were voiced in a subdued murmur, which at times threatened to break
forth in uncontrollable volume. Everyone who had the privilege of being present at this mar-
velous and wonderful exhibition felt that they had witnessed something which was not only
unique, instructive and interesting, but the likes of which would not be found again in this
country.13
Capablanca’s second exhibition took place at the Balboa Yacht Club on the night of
March 15, in front of another packed house. Capablanca defeated all 39 Pacific Chess Club
aficionados. Between his first and second exhibition, on Saturday, March 11, he attended as
a special guest a pro league baseball game, between the teams Unión 76 and Fuerza y Luz,
a fact that was commented on by the local press. His third exhibition took place on Friday,
March 17, at the “Centro de Estudios Pedagógicos” in Panama City against 40 adversaries,
of whom only R.L. Gómez achieved a draw. His last exhibition was held on the night of
March 21, after Capablanca went by train to the eastern port of Colón, where he defeated
the 19 players he faced. During his Panama tour, Capablanca amassed 117 wins and 1 draw,
according to the summary published by the Panama Star on Thursday, March 23.14 “When
the S.S. California leaves Friday for the coast of United States, she will carry away one of the
most notable celebrities ever to visit the Isthmus.”
In sharp contrast with the attention given in Panama to Capablanca’s coming, his arrival
in Los Angeles on April 1 was barely mentioned by the local press. On April 2, the Los Angeles
Times dedicated a five-paragraph column to him under the headline “Chess Star Arrives for
Exhibitions.” Curiously enough, among the people waiting for him at the docks was Henry
MacMahon, who had announced to Albear the withdrawal of Capablanca’s invitation to the
Pasadena tournament.
On April 8, Capablanca did a simultaneous exhibition at the L.A. Athletic Club; facing
32 opponents he lost 1 game and conceded 6 draws. Herman Steiner tried to organize a series
of exhibitions between them, but Capablanca refused. “He gave lack of time as the reason
for refusal,” said Steiner to the Los Angeles Times. Steiner had the opportunity to face Capa-
blanca on April 11, also at the Athletic Club, but apparently the game with living pieces was
arranged in advance to provide aesthetic enhancement to a human chess ballet, where the
essential part is the artistic show.15
From Los Angeles, Capablanca traveled to the border city of El Paso, Texas, where on
April 14 he won 17 games and drew 1 in a simultaneous exhibition, as a preamble to the exten-
sive tournée arranged for him in Mexico by José Joaquín Araiza, with the help of other chess
patrons of the country. That tour marked a moment when he traveled to the same places
that Alekhine had already visited, aiming to produce a spark that revitalized the efforts for
a world championship match among spectators who would like to see them face off. His
Mexico tour, from April 15 to May 17, was the most extensive Capablanca ever took in a
Spanish-speaking nation. His final outcome was 95.85 percent, thanks to 452 wins, 10 losses
and 20 draws in 482 games, if we include his exhibition in Texas; otherwise it would be 435
wins, 10 defeats and 19 draws in 464 games, for an average of 95.79 percent.16 In 12 Mexican
cities, Capablanca offered 21 exhibitions and played individual games. The variety of oppo-
nents found by the tour, especially in Mexico City, was noteworthy. He faced law students,
military officers and Spaniards and Americans. Some fans followed him from place to place
in order to play against him or simply watch him. According to Mexican diplomat Carlos
Fruvas Garnica, who accompanied Capablanca on the tour, everybody wanted to hear him
speak, because they liked his accent, saying that it was Andalusian, “almost Granada’s.” Some
compared his way of speaking to that of poet Federico García Lorca. Fruvas remembers him
as profligate. “Money is meant to roll,” Capablanca said to him once. Fruvas justly described
Capablanca as an “itinerant Cuban embassy.” Although at the moment he was free from his
post, he traveled with a diplomatic passport, courtesy of his former colleagues from the for-
eign service. Fruvas reminisced about his tour with Capablanca in his article “Todas las
mañanas del mundo” (“All the Mornings of the World”). According to his recollection,
Ramiro Capablanca joined them in the northern city of Torreón, although Fruvas Garnica
does not specify how long he stayed with them.17
Thanks to Fruvas Garnica’s memoir, we know that Capablanca shaved a couple of times
a day; that he had hurt his right hand, either playing tennis or jumping the back wall of his
house during the infamous night of March 5, so at the moment he wrote with his left hand,
thankfully being ambidextrous. He spoke very little about chess, but a lot about music and
baseball; he read the French writer Stendhal and the Spaniard Pío Baroja during their trips
by train between cities; he admired Cuban composer and pianist Ernesto Lecuona; and “he
knew how to dance any type of ballroom dance. Even danzón, on his toes, in the classic
Camagüey manner.” According to his observations, Capablanca kept a diary, albeit perhaps
it was just notes for an article he sent to New York and that, to all appearances, was never
published. Another detail Fruvas observed was that high blood pressure was bothering the
Cuban, who occasionally complained about it—highly probable, because of the great altitude
above sea level of the cities of Puebla and México, where he lived from at least April 20 until
May 10. There he was cared for by Dr. Francisco Vargas Basulto. In Fruvas’s view, Capablanca
received for each simultaneous exhibition “a generous stipend, although he never set a fee.”
He estimates Capablanca’s total emoluments in a month at around $1,500 ($27,500 in 2015).
The trip revived a fervor for chess in Mexico, but did not achieve its ultimate purpose, which
was to raise funds for the world championship. On the night of May 5, in a simultaneous
exhibition where Capablanca faced 38 opponents (with 36 wins, 1 loss, 1 draw), the people
who attended the event, held at the Casino Español of Mexico City, witnessed a beautiful
game on the part of the former world champion.
Capablanca–M. Glicco [D67]

Simultaneous Exhibition, Mexico City, 5 May 1933
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 d5 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3 c6 6. Rc1 Be7 7. Nf3 0–0 8. Bd3
d×c4 9. B×c4 Nd5 10. B×e7 Q×e7 11. 0–0 Rd8 If 11. ... N×c3 12. R×c3 e5 13. h3 e4 14. Nd2
and White is a little better. Vaganian–Radulov, Dubai Olympiad, 1986. 12. Ne4 N5f6
13. Ng3 h6 If 13. ... c5 14. e4 c×d4 15. e5 Ne8 16. Re1 Nf8 17. N×d4 Ng6 18. Qd2 b6
19. f4 Qh4 20. Nge2 Bb7 21. Qe3 Rac8 22. Bd3 Nc7 23. Be4 Nd5 24. Qf3 Qe7 25. a3 Qe8
26. R×c8 R×c8 27. f5 with advantage for White. Ivanchuk–Ehlvest, Yerevan Olympiad,
1996. 14. e4 e5? 15. Nf5 Qf8 16. Re1 g6? Better is 16. ... e×d4
rDb4w1kD but White is much better after 17. e5 Nb6 18. N×h6+ g×h6
0pDnDpDw 19. e×f6 (see diagram)
wDpDwhp0 17. B×f7+ Kh7 If 17. ... K×f7 18. Qb3+ Nd5 19. e×d5 g×f5
DwDw0NDw 20. d×c6+ winning. 18. B×g6+ K×g6 19. d×e5 Ng8 20. Rc3
wDB)PDwD Ndf6 If 20. ... Nb6 21. N3h4+ Kh7 22. Qg4 Qf7 23. Rg3 B×f5
DwDwDNDw 24. e×f5 Ne7 25. f6 Rg8 26. Qe4+ Ng6 27. Nf5 Qf8 28. Ne7
P)wDw)P) Qf7 29. h4 winning. 21. Qe2 Ne8 22. N3h4+ Kh7 23. Qh5
Dw$Q$wIw B×f5 24. e×f5 Rd7 25. f6 Ne×f6 26. Qf5+ Kg7 27. e×f6+
After 16. … g6 N×f6 28. Rg3+ Kf7 29. Qe6 mate. 1–0.
The last stop in Capablanca’s Mexico tour was the frontier city of Nogales, through
which he crossed back across the border into Arizona on May 19. Capablanca’s return to Los
Angeles and his almost eight-month stay in that city, or in nearby Hollywood, has no easy
explanation, since his exhibitions there from the end of May were very few. A note signed
by a Cliff Sherwood in the Los Angeles Times of April 9, in the wake of Capablanca’s arrival
from Panama, stated that the Cuban master would tour the United States but that never
happened. Aside from the April 8 simultaneous exhibition and the game with living pieces
four days later, there is but one record of any other exhibitions and that was on May 21 in
Hollywood, where he won 21 and drew 2.
From that day’s exhibition is his game against Mary Waiser Bain, who would finish
fifth in the 1937 women’s world championship. Capablanca played carelessly, and on move
10 made a mistake that cost him a piece. The story goes that Miss Bain did not want to
win in this way and offered a draw to the former world champion. According to some ver-
sions, Capablanca accepted the draw; according to others, he surrendered. The only sure
thing is that the published outcome of that exhibition does not show any defeat of the
Cuban. This is the game whose opponent could go down in history as “The Lady Who Par-
doned Capablanca.”
Capablanca–Mary Bain [C48]

Simultaneous Exhibition, Hollywood, 21 May 1933
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bb5 Bc5 5. 0–0 0–0 6. N×e5 Re8 7. Nd3 Bd4
8. Ne2 R×e4 9. N×d4 N×d4 10. Ba4 Ne2+ 11. Kh1 N×c1 Draw? ½–½.
It is fair to assume that Capablanca was under contract for several months as an enter-
tainer at the Hollywood Chess and Bridge Club, in which case, instead of group exhibitions,
he devoted his time to providing individual attention to the famous members of the club.
The confirmation that he “would be associated” at the local club for three or four months
was published in the Los Angeles Times on July 18, where it was assured that the Cuban
master had plans to make his permanent residence in southern California. “While here the
grand master will, of course, be available for exhibitions at various clubs. It is also announced
that he will conduct class lectures and private lessons.” On May 25, Capablanca gave a lecture
on Morphy at the Sierra Madre Chess Club.
There was always gossip in his wake, some of it involving ladies, in this case famous
movie stars. His summer stay at the actress Mae Clark’s home is almost certainly apocryphal,
and probably stemmed from the fact that there is a photograph in which they appear together
over a chessboard. However, it is a fact that he was a guest of the painter and movie producer
Warren Newcombe, as well as of Joseph Lippman, the Santa Monica judge. In all, very little
was published about him during this period, except that at the chess club he played host to
famous actors, directors or playwrights who were chess enthusiasts, but nothing memorable
has survived of it other than pictures of him with Mae and Finis Barton, and a rumor that
Cecil B. DeMille wanted to offer him a “Latin lover” role à la César Romero (the eternal
seducer, also of Cuban origins), which is also probably untrue. In any case, DeMille was a
solid fan of chess, and he arranged and served as an arbiter at the April 12 living chess game.
It is also said that he had been a patron of the Pasadena tournament in 1932.
By mid–August, Capablanca learned about the fall of the Machado regime in Cuba,
but he did not seem in any hurry to return to the island, probably because his contract had
not expired. The situation in Cuba was still chaotic with the lack of a firm government. The
Havana Hotel Nacional suffered an artillery attack when it became a haven for 300 officers
expelled from the military. The New York Times published on September 14 an analysis of
the Cuban political situation, which included a picture of a hurriedly patched-together gov-
erning board headed by Dr. Ramón Grau San Martín (a physician and university professor),
with Ramiro Capablanca figuring as “secretary of the presidency.”
Capablanca abandoned California after his prolonged stay and resurfaced in New York
on December 6 to win all nine games of a blitz chess competition at the Marshall Chess
Club, defeating young players Reuben Fine and Samuel Reshevsky. In a note published the
following day by the New York Times (December 7, 1933, page 31), Fine confessed that he
During his months in Hollywood, Capablanca promoted chess and was a personal instructor to
several luminaries, among them the actress Mae Clark pictured above (author’s collection).
had felt absolutely helpless before the Cuban’s brilliant fast game: “I could fight on almost
level terms with Alekhine at blitz chess, but Capablanca beat me mercilessly.”
Capablanca sailed to Havana on December 27 on the Morro Castle. Before his departure,
he challenged the ten best New York players in a simultaneous exhibition with clocks. “He
would face any kind of opposition, no matter how strong it might be.” The same press release
in the New York Times, December 24, 1933, mentioned that Capablanca had nothing to add
about the possibility of a return match against Alekhine, who had again accepted
Bogoljubow’s challenge for a second match for the world championship. When asked for
his prediction, Capablanca just responded that Alekhine would win again. Apparently even
before leaving New York for Havana, Capablanca was reinstated in the foreign service. Read-
ing his file does not clarify his situation very well, for although there is a decree (number
3185, December 23, 1933) naming him “Consul First Class, attached to the Cuban Embassy
in Washington,” supplanting the then-current consul, José A. Sera y Serrano, another pres-
idential document dated December 27 invalidated it, as regards Sera’s firing, because Sera
was confirmed in his post.18
But at that moment in Cuba no appointment was safe, not even a presidential one.
Grau’s government had to step down on January 15, 1934. The Carlos Hevia administration
that took its place on the 16th became history on the morning of the 18th. Hevia was replaced
by then Secretary of State Manuel Márquez Sterling, whose trajectory has been detailed
before. Márquez Sterling knew that he did not have any real backing (meaning the army’s)
to keep his post as “president.” He clearly saw that the corporals and sergeants that were at
the time in charge of the military selected the veteran of the Cuban independence war of
1895 Colonel Carlos Mendieta, whom he “named” as his replacement as president of Cuba.
That way, Márquez Sterling escaped the situation unscathed, keeping the Cuban embassy in
Washington, where he returned as soon as he was able to. Mendieta was in the end the man
chosen to rule by Sergeant Fulgencio Batista. Such was the political situation Capablanca
found upon his return from New York to Havana.
On July 25, 1934, Capablanca took the reverse trip aboard the Morro Castle. With
Cosme de la Torriente back as secretary of state, it was not hard for him to return to the for-
eign service. On July 14, brand new President Mendieta had given his official approval to a
suggestion by Torriente, and signed a decree naming Capablanca “Commercial Attaché to
the Cuban Legation in Paris.”19 Three months before, in March, while he was arranging his
return to the foreign service, the inevitable and false rumor of the return match had
reemerged, according to a brief note published in the New York Times on March 11. That
time, the news originated in Buenos Aires, where the national champion, Luis R. Piazzini,
told the newspaper Crítica on February 2 that the match for the world crown was feasible.
Piazzini, who did not hide his sympathy for the Cuban master, blamed Alekhine for the
match’s not having taken place, “because he carried a grudge against the defeated.” The
Argentinian’s offer, however, was born with an insurmountable capital sin: the offer of a
purse under $10,000. Alekhine had insisted over and over that he would never accept any-
thing under that sum. On top of that, Alekhine claimed now that it was “ten thousand dollars
in gold,” a jump of about 40 percent, with the argument that he did not want to accept a
devalued currency like the dollar bill.20
But nothing was further away at the time than the return match, because by then
Alekhine had agreed to a new match for the crown, this time against Euwe, to be held in the
final months of 1935. Interviewed in this respect by the New York Times upon arriving at
New York on July 28, Capablanca “expressed the opinion that Dr. Euwe in his forthcoming
championship match with Dr. Alekhine has an excellent chance to win the title.”21 But the
most important thing that happened to Capablanca after arriving in New York was meeting
the woman who would become his second wife: Olga Chagodaef, identified by the gossip
columns as a Russian princess. She later explained that the family of her ex-husband was
descended from a long dynasty in the Caucasus that could be traced back to the Mongol
emperor Genghis Khan. It has been alleged that upon learning these details, Alekhine made
fun of Olga’s ancestry and said that in the Caucasus any peasant could claim to be a princess.
This, however, is in sharp contrast with Alekhine’s statements in Havana on January 3, 1939,
when he answered an impertinent question about Capablanca’s marriage to Olga and her
supposedly noble origins saying, “Such subjects are Mr. Capablanca’s private matters.” 22
Years later, Olga wrote the story of how they had met, but with some discrepancies
between accounts. On one occasion she mentioned that it happened at a party given by the
Cuban consulate, while in another version she mentioned the house of a mutual acquain-
tance. According to her: “Everyone got up to dance except a man who, I had vaguely noticed,
sought to be near me. Quietly but distinctly he said, ‘Some day you and I will be married.’”
This was the beginning of a passionate romance, but also of great personal tribulations,
because Capablanca and Gloria were not yet legally separated. From Olga’s accounts it appears
that Capablanca was immediately smitten with her.23
Capablanca’s courtship of Olga was interrupted in early October, when he traveled to
Puerto Rico for two weeks, after being invited by the Caribbean island’s chess club. As in
his Mexican tour, he followed Alekhine’s tracks. It was important for Capablanca that his
image did not fade or become overpowered by that of his rival, who had traveled the same
route a year before. But Alekhine’s visit to Puerto Rico was not without incident. Alleged
comments by him in Chicago about his tour in the island were interpreted in San Juan as
harsh words. In the end, it was a confusing situation and neither the New York Times nor
the American Chess Bulletin mentioned it. Without another solid source it is difficult to
explain what really occurred. Maybe Alekhine was furious that his host in San Juan did not
give him the opportunity to break his own recent blindfold record of 32 games (Chicago,
July 16, 1933) when his proposition to face 40 Puerto Rican players in San Juan sans voir
was flatly rejected. (Or maybe there was some kind of mix-up, as happened to Marshall in
Cuba, 1913, when the American thought that his victory over Capablanca had inflamed
Havana fans when in reality they were cheering him.) Capablanca learned about this upon
arriving in San Juan on October 8 on board the Borinquen and seized the opportunity to
gently chide Antonio Coll Vidal, the chess director, for having invited Alekhine.
“You see,” said Capablanca to Coll Vidal, who also wrote about chess for the newspaper
El Mundo of San Juan, “you knew before inviting Alekhine how impossible he has made our
return match for the world championship. And, despite that, you invited him here. The same
has happened elsewhere. And, by the way, what he [Alekhine] did in Barcelona was much
worse than what he did in Puerto Rico.” But when the reporter wanted to know what had
happened in that Spanish city, he merely responded, “Hum. Just ask the people in Barcelona.”24
Coll Vidal, who did not want to drop the subject of the world championship, assured
Capablanca that Alekhine had told him that he would face Capablanca as soon as his match
against Euwe was over, to which the Cuban replied: “That is the myth everybody has been
buying into; Alekhine’s tall tale about him wanting to play with me. Do not believe it; you
should not believe that here. He will not play.” He added: “He said the same thing before
other matches; the same thing he has tried to make the fans swallow all this time. But the
moment will arrive, and Alekhine will not play.”
In San Juan, the Cuban had two simultaneous exhibitions. In the first one, at the Ateneo
on October 9, he beat the 31 players who faced him, among them the best of the place, such
as Francisco Benítez, champion of San Juan; Pedro A. Gotay, champion of Puerto Rico’s
chess club; and Miguel R. Cancio, champion of the island’s eastern region.
Capablanca–Pedro Gotay [C14]

Simultaneous Exhibition, San Juan, 9 October 1934
Gotay lost out when instead of accepting a draw offer, in a
wDwDkDwD position of perpetual check, moved his queen from c4 to c6 (see
0RDwDwDw diagram). The former world champion had blundered a piece on
wDqDNDwD move 26 and after that the young Puerto Rican played a very
DwDp)pDw aggressive game—but then found out how tenacious a defender
wDw)wDwD the Cuban was in desperate positions. Gotay misjudged his
DwDwDwDw chances at this moment and felt he could still win. The ending
w)wDwDwD that follows is very enlightening as it shows Capablanca had an
DKDwDwDw accurate intuition of where each piece would drop. While Gotay
White to move thought that his f-pawn would crown, the former world cham-
pion saw the maneuver to prevent it and save the game: 51. Ng7+ Kf8 52. R×a7 f4? Here
Gotay misses the last chance for a draw with 52. … Qb6 53. Rd7 Qb3 54. e6 Qd3+ 55. Ka2
Qa6+ 56. Kb1 Qf1+ and White cannot avoid the perpetual check with 57. Kc2 because of
Qc4+ 53. e6 f3 54. e7+ Kg8 55. e8=Q+ Q×e8 56. N×e8 f2 57. Nf6+ Kf8 58. Nh7+ Black
resigned. If 58. ... Kg8 (in case of 58. ... Ke8 59. Ra8+ Ke7 60. Rf8 winning) 59. Ra8+ Kg7
60. Rf8 winning. 1–0.
The next day, Capablanca defeated 29 rivals in a simultaneous display at the University.
The Cuban also played a game against Rafael Cintrón, champion of Puerto Rico, the evening
of October 10 at San Juan’s Spaniard casino, in which he won in a draw the right to play with
the White pieces. According to Hooper and Brandreth, this was Capablanca’s last individual
exhibition. Although maybe it is necessary to add: without offering any advantage, as he did
against Rosendo Romero, José Fernández León, and Rafael Blanco in Havana in 1941.
Capablanca–Rafael Cintrón [B44] rDb4wDkD

Exhibition Game, San Juan, 10 October 1934 Dw1wgp0p
1. e4 c5 2. Ne2 Nc6 3. d4 c×d4 4. N×d4 e6 5. Nb5 d6 p0n0phwD
6. c4 a6 7. N5c3 Nf6 8. Be2 Be7 9. 0–0 Qc7 10. Be3 0–0
DwDwDwDw
wDPDPDwD
11. Nd2 b6 12. Rc1 Rd8 (see diagram) DwHwGwDw
13. Nd5! Qb7 14. N×b6 Rb8 15. b3 Nd7 16. N×d7 B×d7 P)wHB)P)
17. Nb1 Be8 18. Qd2 Bf6 19. Rfd1 Ne7 20. f3 Bc6 21. Qa5 Nc8 Dw$QDRIw
22. e5 Bh4 23. e×d6 N×d6 24. Bf4 Qa7+ 25. c5 Nb7 26. B×b8
After 12. … Rd8
and Black resigned. 1–0.
Capablanca left Puerto Rico on October 11 in the same ship that took him there. He
arrived in New York on October 15. At the end of the year, rather than travel to Cuba, Capa-
blanca embarked to the English city of Liverpool on board the Britannic on December
18. But a few days before, on the evening of December 9, he received from the Cuban Embassy
in Washington an urgent phone call from his friend the diplomat Eugenio Castillo25 with
the terrible news of the death of Márquez Sterling, who had been in a coma since the previous
day, when he suffered a heart attack after a severe asthma seizure. Márquez Sterling died
after reaching what he considered the most important work of his life: the treaty for the
annulment of the Platt Amendment, which until that time had given the United States the
right to intervene in Cuba’s internal affairs.
Capablanca traveled to Washington to attend the church service in the Cathedral of
St. Matthew, as well as the transfer of the corpse in a gun carriage to the train at Union Sta-
tion, escorted by a ceremonial unit of cavalry and the U.S. Army band. An honor guard
accompanied his coffin in a train car placed at the disposal of the family by President Franklin
D. Roosevelt, to Miami, where his body was transported to Havana with military honors in
the cruiser Trenton.
Roosevelt’s administration highlighted the figure of the Cuban ambassador with
unusual honors of state, and even ordered Cordell Hull, the secretary of state, to apoint a
special envoy to accompany the family of Márquez Sterling, first by train, then to Havana,
where he was to attend the funeral as the special representative of the president of the United
States. The honors to Márquez Sterling as a head of a foreign state who died in the United
States can be explained because in the protocol of signature for the annulment of the Platt
Amendment, known as the Treaty of Relations, Márquez Sterling appeared not as a simple
“Plenipotentiary Ambassador” but as “Provisional President of Cuba,” although it was known
that he had not occupied that position since January 18, 1934.26
Back in Europe, none other than Max Euwe marked first the pause and then the restart of
Capablanca’s activities in chess. After the draw with the Dutchman on July 30, 1931, in the tenth
and final game of their match, the Cuban had no other official rival on the Continent until
December 27, 1934, when he shook hands with the same master and sat down to play his first
game of the Hastings tournament. The Cuban’s lack of practice was evident in the second round,
when playing with White against George Alan Thomas
he made two consecutive serious mistakes, the second of
which proved decisive when he overlooked a simple tac-
tical maneuver which made him accept an unfavorable
change of two minor pieces for his adversary’s rook. It did
not help much that, as always, he made a fierce defense,
as he had to resign on the 53rd move. Two successive vic-
tories against Vera Menchik and the Briton Philip Stuart
Milner-Barry improved his situation somewhat.
But Capablanca’s legendary intuition to foresee
danger was resting on the fifth round. That day, the
Hungarian Andor Lilienthal, an aggressive European
master of the new generation, made history when he
delivered the Cuban in 26 moves the second shortest
loss he had ever suffered in his career. (He lost to Mar-
shall in 25 moves in their 1908 match.) The game was
published in the major newspapers and chess magazines
Manuel Márquez Sterling, the mys- around the world, because as well as quick and forceful,
terious “Marquet,” patron of the it involved a nifty queen sacrifice. Some decades later,
Belgian tournaments of Ostend.
According to his own account, he in Sveti Stefan, Montenegro, after the fourth game of
anonymously wrote the invitation his exhibition match against Spassky, Fischer was at the
to Capablanca for the San Sebastián restaurant of the hotel when someone introduced
1911 tournament. When he died in Lilienthal to him. “Grandmaster Lilienthal, this is
Washington, D.C., in 1934, the U.S.
government granted his funeral the Bobby Fischer,” said the person handling the introduc-
higher category of foreign head of tion. Bobby boomed out, “Hastings, 1934-1935: the
state (author’s collection). queen sacrifice against Capablanca. Brilliant!”27
Hastings 1934-35
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
1 Euwe, Max • 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 1 ½ ½ 1 61⁄2 27.75
2 Thomas, George Alan 0 • ½ 1 1 1 0 1 1 1 61⁄2 24.75
3 Flohr, Salo ½ ½ • ½ ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 61⁄2 24.25
4 Capablanca, José R. ½ 0 ½ • 0 ½ 1 1 1 1 51⁄2
5 Lilienthal, Andor ½ 0 ½ 1 • ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ 5 21.50
6 Botvinnik, Mikhail 0 0 ½ ½ ½ • ½ 1 1 1 5 16.50
7 Michell, Reginald P. 0 1 0 0 0 ½ • ½ 1 1 4
8 Menchik, Vera ½ 0 0 0 ½ 0 ½ • ½ 1 3
9 Norman, George M. ½ 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ • 0 11⁄2 7.25
10 Milner-Barry, Philip 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 1 • 11⁄2 4.00
Andor Lilienthal–Capablanca [E24]

5th Round, Hastings, 1 January 1935
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. a3 B×c3+ 5. b×c3 b6 The main line nowadays is
5. ... c5 6. f3 d5 7. c×d5 N×d5 8. d×c5 Qa5 9. e4 Nf6 as in Wang Hao–Radjabov, Norway
2013. 6. f3 d5 7. Bg5 h6 8. Bh4 Ba6 9. e4 B×c4 10. B×c4 d×c4 11. Qa4+ Qd7 12. Q×c4
Qc6 13. Qd3 Nbd7 14. Ne2 Rd8 Interesting is 14. ... g5 15. Bg3 0–0–0 16. a4 although
White is a little better. 15. 0–0 a5 If 15. ... Ne5 16. Qc2 Nc4 17. d5 e×d5 18. Nd4 and White
is better. 16. Qc2 Qc4 17. f4 Rc8 18. f5 e5 19. d×e5 Q×e4 If 19. ... N×e5 20. Nf4 Nfd7
21. Rfd1 0–0 22. Nd5 and White is better. If 19. ... Qc5+ 20. Bf2 Q×e5 21. Bd4 Q×e4
22. Q×e4+ N×e4 23. B×g7 Rh7 24. f6 Ndc5 25. Rfe1 and White is better (see diagram)
20. e×f6! Q×c2 21. f×g7 Rg8 22. Nd4 Qe4 If 22. ... Qd2
23. Rae1+ Ne5 24. R×e5+ Kd7 25. Rd5+ Ke8 26. Re1+ winning. wDrDkDw4
If 22. ... Q×c3 23. Rae1+ Q×e1 24. R×e1+ Ne5 25. R×e5+ Kd7 Dw0nDp0w
26. Re7+ Kd6 27. f6 winning. 23. Rae1 Nc5 24. R×e4+ N×e4 w0wDwhw0
25. Re1 R×g7 26. R×e4+ Black resigned. If 26. ... Kf8 (or 26. ... 0wDw)PDw
Kd7 27. Re7+ Kd6 28. f6 Rh7 29. Bg3+ Kc5 30. B×c7 winning) wDwDqDwG
27. Be7+ Kg8 28. Bf6 Rh7 29. Nc6 Kf8 (if 29. ... Ra8 30. Ne7+ )w)wDwDw
Kf8 31. Rg4 winning) 30. Ne7 Re8 (if 30. ... Ra8 31. Rg4 Ke8 wDQDNDP)
$wDwDRIw
32. Rg8+ winning) 31. Ng6+ f×g6 32. f×g6 Rhe7 33. g7+ R×g7
34. B×g7+ winning. Playing against Capablanca the first day of After 19. … Q×e4
the new year proved again to be a good deal. 1–0.
The tournament was also memorable because it brought about the international debut
of one of the greats of the game, Mikhail Botvinnik, who finished tied with Lilienthal for fifth
and sixth, half a point behind the Cuban. Capablanca had not finished in fourth place in a
competition since the April 1902 Championship of Cuba, when he was 13 years old. Euwe,
Flohr and even Thomas finished above him, first, second and third. In his memoirs Botvinnik
left the impression of meeting the Cuban once again: There were just nine years since Botvinnik
had seen him, but Capablanca’s face reflected deep traces of physiognomic changes. His fea-
tures, formerly quiet, now expressed weariness and dissatisfaction. Only every now and then,
wrote Botvinnik, when he smiled, could you recognize in him the former champion.28
In Hastings, Capablanca received an invitation from Samuil Vainshtein, an arbiter and
a director of Soviet chess who was in England as a companion to the young Botvinnik, to
attend the second international chess tournament in Moscow, which would be held the com-
ing month of February. According to Botvinnik, a question Vainshtein wrongly asked Capa-
blanca about the celebration of the world championship caused a barely controlled attack
of rage in the Cuban. In addition to Capablanca and Botvinnik, other participants in Hast-
ings who attended the event in Moscow were Flohr, Lilienthal and Menchik. Also playing
was Emanuel Lasker, who then lived near London.29
Before coming to Moscow, Capablanca warmed up with several simultaneous displays
across Europe, beginning with the January 7 and 8 exhibitions in the northwestern English
city of Manchester. In the first exhibition against 40 opponents, he won against 39 and drew
1. The next day, the Cuban had to contend with 16 strong groups of opponents (among
them Reginald Joseph Broadbent, British champion in 1948 and 1950) who played in
consultation in groups of four. Capablanca won all 16 games. On January 19, in Rotterdam,
the Netherlands, he defeated 26 of 30 with 4 draws. From there he went to Paris, where in
the Cuban Embassy, he took possession of his post as “commercial attaché” in the European
countries, as it was established in his most recent appointment.30
From the French capital, where Capablanca beat 12 strong Parisians, he set off towards
Eastern Europe through routes known to him from his tours in 1911, 1913, 1925 and 1929. He
visited eight cities (Leipzig, Bayreuth and Berlin, in Germany; Prague and Ostrava, in
Czechoslovakia; Warsaw, in Poland; and Leningrad and Moscow, in the Soviet Union) with
a total of 15 exhibitions (from Manchester to Leningrad), in which he played 447 games
and won 328, lost 50 and drew 69, for an average of 81.09 percent.
The unusual number of losses was due to the strength of his rivals in Moscow and Len-
ingrad. For the Cuban, not only was the increase in the number of fans in Russia surprising,
but also the huge number of first-level players or close to the master level that he found since
his last visit to Moscow and Leningrad in 1925. In Moscow he suffered his poorest record
ever in a simultaneous display on February 10, when 14 rivals beat him and 9 others drew
him in a total of 30 games. It is true that he had just arrived from Warsaw by train, where
two days earlier he had offered another simultaneous display against 34, with 24 victories,
4 losses and 6 draws. It is assumed that he was exhausted, but that does not diminish the
performance of the Moscow fans, who, as Capablanca acknowledged, “were hard nuts to
crack.” In Leningrad, two days later, he did scarcely better against 30 opponents: 10 wins,
11 defeats and 9 draws. At least Capablanca learned the lesson. The following year, 1936,
when he was again invited to the tournament in Moscow, he asked Valerian Eremeyev, the
organizer of the competition, that if he got exhibitions for him, these should be with one
day of rest after arriving and another before the start of the competition.
On February 14, Capablanca returned to Moscow for the first round of the tournament,
which was held at the Museum of Fine Arts (now Pushkin Museum of Fine Arts) on the fol-
lowing day. The Cuban met a young player whom he did not know, Nikolai Nikolaevich
Riumin. Capablanca played the opening poorly and found himself in a situation difficult to
decipher. For the first time in his life, the Cuban lost a game, on his 29th move, by exceeding
the time limit (30 moves in two hours). The public and the remaining players were simply
astounded. Since Capablanca’s next five rivals were also Soviet players, the focus was on
which of them would be the next who would overcome the powerful former world champion.
To the disappointment of Muscovites, after his defeat by Riumin, the Cuban was the most
ruthless of the visitors against the local masters, with a score of 8½ points of 12 possible.
Those who followed the incidents of the tournament left records that while Capablanca
showed flashes of his legendary class, it seemed that his mind was occupied with the organ-
ization of a world championship that moved away from him day by day, or with the new
love interest he had found in New York.
In the second round Capablanca faced Botvinnik, the most promising of the new Soviet
players, who thought that the Cuban had committed a blunder on move 19 that cost him a
piece.
Capablanca–Mikhail M. Botvinnik [D90]

2nd Round, Moscow, 16 February 1935
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 g6 3. Nc3 d5 4. Nf3 Bg7 5. c×d5 N×d5 6. Qb3 Not very enterprising.
6. ... N×c3 7. b×c3 c5 8. e3 0–0 9. Be2 The main variation is 9. Ba3 b6 10. Rd1 Qc7 11. Be2
Nd7 12. 0–0 Bb7 13. c4 c×d4 14. e×d4 Rfe8 15. Rfe1 e5 with an even game. Pribyl–Smejkal,
Bratislava 1983. 9. ... Nd7 10. 0–0 Qc7 Or 10. ... b6 11. Rd1 Qc7 12. a4 Bb7 13. Ba3 Rac8
14. Rac1 e6 with an even game. 11. a4 b6 12. a5 b×a5 13. Qa3 Bb7 14. Q×a5 Rfc8 15. Q×c7
R×c7 16. Ra5 e5 17. Rd1 c×d4 18. c×d4 Rac8 (see diagram)
19. R×a7! “At the tournament in Moscow I played Black wDrDwDkD
and skillfully brought the game to even play, when, unexpectedly, 0b4nDpgp
Capablanca in the end ‘overlooked’ a man!? But—no! White had, wDwDwDpD
in fact, been preparing a quiet move and a variation in which he $wDw0wDw
could actually take a pawn. All of this was artfully concealed” wDw)wDwD
(Botvinnik). After pondering his response, Botvinnik found that DwDw)NDw
far from being a mistake, it was actually a well hidden trap. The
wDwDB)P)
DwGRDwIw
Russian master wrote of this experience: “Capa was phenomenal
at calculating positions, but he was also a shrewd tactician.” 19. ... After 18. … Rac8
B×f3 If 19. ... R×c1 20. R×b7 R×d1+ 21. B×d1 Rc1 22. Kf1
R×d1+ 23. Ke2 and White wins a pawn. 20. R×c7 R×c7 21. g×f3 Or 21. B×f3 e×d4
22. e×d4 B×d4 23. Bf4 Be5 24. R×d7 B×f4 with an even game. 21. ... e×d4 22. e×d4 B×d4
23. Bf4 Be5 24. R×d7 B×f4 Draw. Or 24. ... R×d7 25. B×e5 Re7 26. f4 f6 27. Bc4+ Kg7
28. Bd6 Rd7 29. Bb8 Rb7 and draw. ½–½.
In the balance of Capablanca’s games in Moscow, he showed a clear tendency to be in

uncomfortable positions from the very beginning. In the opinion of some, his victory against
Georgy Mikhailovich Lisitsin in the fifth round was the Cuban’s luckiest game of his life. How-
ever, it does not seem very different from others throughout the history of chess, in which
many players won over rivals who were weaker than they. Capablanca’s win against William
Winter in Nottingham 1936 could very well deserve that award of the “most fortunate” game
of his career. However, it is worth noting his beautiful victory in a queen ending in the encounter
against Lisitsin that deservedly found a place in many analyses of that part of the game.
Georgy M. Lisitsin–Capablanca [A11]

5th Round, Moscow, 21 February 1935
1. Nf3 d5 2. c4 c6 3. e3 Nf6 4. Nc3 Bg4 Or 4. ... e6 5. b3 Nbd7 6. Qc2 Bd6 7. Bb2 0–
0 8. Be2 b6 9. Rg1 Qe7 10. g4 Ba3 11. g5 Ne8 12. B×a3 Q×a3 13. h4 Nd6 14. Bd3 g6 15. h5
Nf5 16. c×d5 c×d5 17. h×g6 h×g6 18. B×f5 e×f5 19. Nd4 Ba6 20. b4 Q×b4 21. N×d5 Qc4
22. Q×c4 B×c4 23. Nf4 Ne5 24. f3 draw. Bischoff–Dreev, Hastings 1999-2000. 5. c×d5
N×d5 Better is 5. ... B×f3 6. Q×f3 c×d5 with only a small advantage for White. 6. Be2 e6
7. d4 Nd7 8. 0–0 Qc7 9. Bd2 Bd6 Better is 9. ... Be7 10. Ne4 N7f6 11. N×d6+ Q×d6
12. Ne5 B×e2 13. Q×e2 0–0 14. Rac1 Nb6 15. Nd3 Rfe8 16. Rfd1 Nbd7 17. h3 Qd5 If
17. ... e5 18. d×e5 N×e5 19. N×e5 R×e5 (if 19. ... Q×e5 20. Bc3 Qe6 21. B×f6 Q×f6 22. Rd7
with advantage) 20. Bc3 Rd5 21. B×f6 R×d1+ (if 21. ... Q×f6 22. R×d5 c×d5 23. Qb5 Qb6
24. Qd7 g6 25. Rc7 winning) 22. R×d1 Q×f6 23. Qd2 with White’s advantage (Lisitsin).
18. b3 Qb5 19. Bc3 Nd5 20. Qd2 N×c3 21. Q×c3 Rad8 22. a4 Qb6 23. b4 Nf6 24. Qc4
Ne4 Better is 24. ... a6 25. Qc5 Nd7 (if 25. ... Qc7 26. b5 a×b5 27. a×b5 and White is much
better) 26. Q×b6 N×b6 27. Nc5 Rb8 28. b5 [A.N.: To be considered is 28. a5 Nc8 29. e4
and White is much better] 28. ... a×b5 29. a×b5 Rec8 30. Rb1 Nd5 31. b×c6 b×c6 although
White is better (Lisitsin). 25. a5 Qc7 26. a6 Rc8 27. a×b7 Q×b7 28. Ra1 Rc7 29. Rdc1
Rb8 30. Qc2 Qc8 Better is 30. ... Rbc8. 31. Ra5 Stronger seems 31. Ne5 Nf6 (if 31... Nd6
32. N×c6 Kh8 33. R×a7 R×a7 34. N×a7 Q×c2 35. R×c2 R×b4 36. Rc6 winning—Lisitsin)
32. N×c6 Kh8 33. R×a7 R×a7 34. N×a7 Q×c2 35. R×c2 R×b4 36. Rc8+ Ng8 37. Nc6 Rb7
38. Rf8 h6 39. Nd8 Rb1+ 40. Kh2 winning. 31. ... Rb6 32. Qa4 Stronger is 32. Ne5 Nd6
(if 32. ... Nf6 33. Rc5 Nd7 34. N×d7 Q×d7 35. b5 winning) 33. Rc5 R×b4 34. N×c6 Rbb7
35. Ne7+ winning (Lisitsin). 32. ... Qb8 33. f3 Stronger is 33. Re5 Nd6 (if 33. ... Nf6 34. Rec5
Qb7 35. b5 winning—Lisitsin) 34. Rec5 Qb7 35. Ra5 with advantage for White. 33. ... Nf6
34. Rac5 Stronger seems 34. e4 h6 35. Rac5 Qd8 36. Qa1 with advantage. 34. ... Nd5
35. R×c6 Rc×c6 36. R×c6 R×c6 37. Q×c6 N×e3 38. Nc5 Nd5 39. b5 Better is 39. Na6
Qd8 40. Qb7 Nf4 (or 40. ... Nb6 41. Q×a7 Q×d4+ 42. Kh2 Qe5+ and draw) 41. Q×a7
Ne2+ 42. Kf2 N×d4 43. Qb8 Q×b8 44. N×b8 Kf8 45. Na6 Ke7 46. Ke3 e5 47. f4 Kd6 with
a probable draw. 39. ... Nb6 40. Nd7 Qd8 41. N×b6 a×b6 42. Qc4 (see diagram)
“Material is even, but White does have a couple of isolated
wDw1wDkD pawns to worry about. The natural result should probably be a
DwDwDp0p draw, as it usually is in queen endings of this sort” (Irving
w0wDpDwD Chernev, Capablanca’s Best Chess Endings). 42. ... h5 43. Kh1
DPDwDwDw g6 44. Kg1 Kg7 45. Kf1 Qd6 46. Kg1 Qf4 47. Qc3 Kh7 48. Kf1
wDQ)wDwD Qf5 49. Qc4 Kg7 50. Kf2 Qg5 51. Qe2 Kf6 52. Qb2 Qd5
DwDwDPDP 53. Ke3 e5! 54. f4 Better is 54. Qb4 e×d4+ (or 54. ... Ke6
wDwDwDPD
DwDwDwIw 55. d×e5 Q×e5+ 56. Kf2 with an even endgame) 55. Q×d4+
Q×d4+ 56. K×d4 Ke6 57. f4 f6 58. Kc4 and draw (Lisitsin).
After 42. Qc4 54. ... e×f4+ 55. K×f4 Ke6 56. h4 If 56. Qe2+ Kd6 57. Ke3 (if
57. Qe5+ Q×e5+ 58. d×e5+ Kd5 winning) 57. ... Qe6+ 58. Kd2
Q×e2+ 59. K×e2 Kd5 winning. 56. ... f6 57. Ke3 Qc4 58. g3 Better seems 58. Qe2 Q×e2+
(if 58. ... Qc3+ 59. Qd3 Q×d3+ 60. K×d3 g5 61. Ke3 g×h4 62. Ke4 h3 63. g×h3 h4 64. d5+
Kd6 65. Kf5 K×d5 66. K×f6 Kc5 67. Kg5 K×b5 68. K×h4 and draw) 59. K×e2 Kd5 60. Ke3
Kd6 61. Ke4 and draw. 58. ... g5 59. h×g5 f×g5 60. Qh2 Or 60. Qb1 Qc3+ 61. Ke2 Q×d4
62. Qg6+ Qf6 63. Q×h5 Qe5+ 64. Kd2 Q×b5 with a winning position. 60. ... Qb3+
61. Ke4 g4 62. Qe2 Q×g3 63. Qc4+ Ke7 64. Qc8 Qf3+ 65. Ke5 Qf6+ 66. Kd5 Qd6+
One of the best productions of the Cuban in the Moscow tournament was against Ilia
Abramovich Kan in the eighth round.
Capablanca–Ilia A. Kan [D67]

8th Round, Moscow, 24 February 1935
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 d5 4. Nf3 Nbd7 5. Bg5 Be7 6. e3 0–0 7. Rc1 c6 8. Bd3
d×c4 9. B×c4 Nd5 10. B×e7 Q×e7 11. 0–0 N5b6 The normal move is 11. ... N×c3 12. R×c3
e5. 12. Bb3 e5 13. Ne4 h6 If 13. ... Kh8 14. d×e5 N×e5 15. N×e5 Q×e5 16. Qd6 Qe8 17. Rfd1
Bg4 18. Rd4 Bh5 19. Ng3 (stronger seems 19. Qc7 Qb8 20. Qe7 Re8 21. Qh4 Bg6 22. Nd6
Rd8 23. Qe7 with a winning position) 19. ... Bg6 20. h4 h6 21. h5 Bh7 22. Rcd1 and White
is better. Eslon–Bjarnason, Stockholm 1978. 14. Qd3 “I thought for a long time over this
move, since it was here that I had to decide whether to continue the game in a pure positional
way or to play for an attack. The course of the game confirms the correctness of the choice:
to attack” (Capablanca). 14. ... Kh8 15. Ng3 e×d4 16. Bc2 Nf6 If 16. ... g6 17. e×d4
Nf6 18. Ne5 Nbd5 19. f4 Nd7 20. f5 N×e5 21. d×e5 Qc5+ 22. Rf2 Qe3 23. Q×e3 N×e3
24. f×g6 with a winning position. 17. e4 g6 18. Q×d4 Be6 19. h4 If 19. Rfe1 Rfd8 20. Qc3
Nbd7 21. Nf5 Qc5 with only a small advantage for White. 19. ... Rad8 20. Qc3 Kh7 21. Rfe1
Nbd7 22. Bb1 Rfe8 23. a3 Bg4 24. Nh2 h5 If 24. ... Qe5 25. Qb3 Be6 26. Q×b7 Rb8
27. Q×c6 R×b2 28. Nf3 Qb8 29. h5 with advantage for White. 25. f3 Be6 26. f4 Bg4 27. Qe3
a6 28. Qf2 Kg7 If 28. ... Be6 29. f5 Bb3 30. Qe3 Ba4 31. b3 Bb5 32. a4 winning. If 28. ...
Qe6 29. e5 Nd5 30. Ne4 Kg8 31. Ng5 Qe7 32. N×g4 h×g4 33. e6 winning. 29. e5 Nd5
30. N×g4 h×g4 31. h5 Rh8 32. h×g6 f×g6 33. e6 Nf8 If 33. ... N7f6 34. B×g6 K×g6
35. Qc2+ winning (see diagram)
34. B×g6! K×g6 35. Qc2+ Kf6 36. Qf5+ Kg7 37. Q×g4+ wDw4whw4
Kh7 38. Kf2 “An inexcusable mistake. Correct was 38. Re5 Nf6 DpDw1wiw
(if 38. ... Qg7 39. Rh5+ Kg8 40. Rg5 winning) 39. Qh4+ Kg8 pDpDPDpD
40. Rg5+. Now the struggle begins anew” (Capablanca). Also DwDnDwDw
strong is 38. Nf5 Qf6 39. e7 winning. 38. ... Qg7 39. Q×g7+ wDwDw)pD
“White overlooked that he cannot now continue 39. Qh4+ Kg8 )wDwDwHw
40. Q×d8 in view of 40. ... Qd4+ with a draw. [A.N.: As a matter
w)wDw!PD
DB$w$wIw
of fact, Black is winning after 41. Ke2 Qe3+ 42. Kf1 Q×f4+
43. Kg1 Q×g3.] He is forced to go into an ending, which still is After 33. .… Nf8
won for him, but not without difficulties. There was another way
to win: 39. Rh1+ Kg8 40. Q×g7+ K×g7 41. Nf5+ Kf6 42. R×h8 K×f5 43. Kf3 N×e6 [A.N.:
Better seems 43. ... K×e6 44. Re1+ Kf6 45. g4 N×f4 46. R×f8+ R×f8 47. K×f4 Kg6+ with
an even endgame] 44. g4+ Kf6 45. R×d8 N×d8. But I preferred the game continuation
instead of an ending with rook and two pawns against two knights” (Capablanca). 39. ...
K×g7 40. e7 Re8 41. e×f8=Q+ Re×f8 42. f5 Rh4 43. Rcd1 Rf4+ 44. Kg1 Rg4 45. Rd3
Kf7 46. Kf2 Rh8 47. Rb3 b5 If 47. ... Rf4+ 48. Kg1 b6 49. Ne4 Rd8 50. Rg3 R×f5 51. Ng5+
Kf6 52. Re6+ Kg7 53. R×c6 with a winning position. 48. Ne4 Rh6 49. g3 Rg8 50. Kf3 a5
51. Rd3 a4 If 51. ... b4 52. a×b4 a×b4 53. Ra1 Re8 54. Ra7+ with a winning position. 52. Rd2
“Black overstepped the time limit. His game is lost since 52. ... Rb8 is followed with 53. Nc3
N×c3 54. b×c3 and while the Black pawns are halted, the White rooks are able to invade
the Black position” (Capablanca). 1–0.
The game between the two former world champions in the ninth round concentrated
the attention of attendees to the playing room. Capablanca (Black) found himself in a bad
position against Lasker after employing a French Defense. Isaac and Vladimir Linder sug-
gested that perhaps Capablanca used it because he knew of Lasker’s two losses against the
French Defense in Zürich in 1934, or his two draws in the same Moscow tournament against
this defense. The game was adjourned with an obvious advantage for Lasker, but the Cuban
resigned before the resumption. In a well-known anecdote Capablanca, seeing a nervous
Marta Lasker, told her not to worry because her husband was in a better position.
Lasker’s victory in his individual game against Capablanca, which won the award for
the best game of the tournament (along with Botvinnik’s win against Riumin), as well as his
third place in the tournament, were extraordinary feats. This is especially so because of the
personal circumstances then surrounding Lasker, after being forced to flee from his homeland,
as the persecution of the Jews by the Nazis became institutionalized in 1933. That at 66
years of age and in such conditions Lasker achieved such sports scores was far beyond just
a feat of chess; it was a triumph of the human spirit.
Moscow 1935
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20
1 Flohr, Salo M. • ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 1 ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 1 ½ ½ 13 119.25
2 Botvinnik, Mikhail ½ • ½ ½ 1 0 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ 0 1 ½ 1 1 13 117.00
3 Lasker, Emanuel ½ ½ • 1 ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 1 1 121⁄2
4 Capablanca, José R. ½ ½ 0 • ½ 1 1 ½ 1 ½ ½ 0 1 ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 1 12
5 Spielmann, Rudolf ½ 0 ½ ½ • ½ ½ ½ 0 1 0 ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 11
6 Kan, Ilia A. ½ 1 0 0 ½ • ½ 0 1 0 1 1 ½ ½ 0 1 1 ½ ½ 1 101⁄2 92.75
7 Levenfish, Grigory Y. ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ • ½ ½ ½ 0 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 ½ 0 1 101⁄2 92.50
8 Lilienthal, Andor A. ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ • 0 ½ 0 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 1 1 ½ 10 92.75
9 Ragozin, Vyacheslav V. ½ 0 ½ 0 1 0 ½ 1 • 0 ½ 1 0 ½ ½ ½ 1 1 ½ 1 10 86.25
10 Romanovsky, Piotr A. 0 0 ½ ½ 0 1 ½ ½ 1 • 1 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 0 1 1 10 85.50
11 Rabinovich, Ilya L. 0 ½ ½ ½ 1 0 1 1 ½ 0 • 0 1 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ 1 1 91⁄2 84.25
12 Riumin, Nikolay N. ½ 0 ½ 1 ½ 0 0 0 0 1 1 • 0 ½ 0 1 1 1 ½ 1 91⁄2 82.25
13 Alatortsev, Vladimir A. ½ ½ ½ 0 0 ½ 0 ½ 1 ½ 0 1 • 0 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 1 91⁄2 81.75
14 Goglidze, Victor A. 0 0 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 • ½ ½ 0 1 1 1 91⁄2 79.00
15 Lisitsin, Georgi 0 ½ ½ 0 ½ 1 0 ½ ½ ½ 1 1 0 ½ • 0 ½ ½ ½ 1 9
16 Bohatirchuk, Fyodor P. 0 1 ½ ½ ½ 0 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ ½ 1 • ½ ½ 0 ½ 8 77.50
17 Ståhlberg, Gideon 0 0 ½ ½ 0 0 0 1 0 0 1 0 ½ 1 ½ ½ • ½ 1 1 8 65.25
18 Pirc, Vasja 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ 0 0 1 ½ 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ ½ • 1 1 71⁄2
19 Chekhover, Vitali ½ 0 0 0 0 ½ 1 0 ½ 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ 1 0 0 • 1 51⁄2
20 Menchik, Vera ½ 0 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 • 11⁄2
Despite Capablanca’s effort in the second half of the tournament, in which he accu-
mulated 6½ points of 10 possible, not to mention that he was much better against Fyodor
Parfenovich Bohatirchuk, or that he had a lost game against Gideon Ståhlberg, the Cuban
found himself in the last round with no possibility of reaching first place. However, he
wanted to make one of the top three places, which was possible if he defeated Grigory
Yakovlevich Levenfish, while Vasja Pirc won or at least achieved a draw against Lasker—but
the development of this last game must have been disheartening for the Cuban because Pirc
was already lost after his 12th move.
So, despite his victory over Levenfish and his indirect efforts to block his old rival’s
path, Capablanca finished for the third time half a point behind Lasker in tournaments held
in Russia. In his article “Botvinnik on His Meetings with World Champions,” the Russian
grandmaster confessed that he and Vyacheslav Vasilyevich Ragozin sought the aid of the
Cuban in the penultimate round to try to save the ending with the exchange down that
Ragozin had adjourned against Lasker. Botvinnik showed Capablanca the adjourned position
as well as his and Ragozin’s conclusions on how to draw in which, according to them, there
was an automatic line. After studying the position Capablanca said, as he gave them a smile
expressing doubts, that the analysis was doomed to failure because the game was lost. When
they confirmed that the Cuban was right, both Ragozin and Botvinnik “were impressed by
Capa’s strength in endings.” Botvinnik qualified it as “Capablanca’s fantastic understanding
of positions.” This game was finally a draw but that was due to a mistake from Lasker.
The victory of the Cuban against Levenfish was narrated by Ståhlberg in his book with
Alles Monasterio Partidas Clásicas de Capablanca, especially the history of how the Cuban
decided to confront his adversary with an idea that had recently been put into practice by
the young Swedish master in his match against Spielmann, held in Stockholm two years
before. Capablanca (White) had played one weak game against the Soviet master Abram
Isaakovich Rabinovich’s Slav Defense in the fourteenth round, which ended in a draw after
a repetition of moves in just 12 moves.
Capablanca–Grigory Y. Levenfish [D49]

19th Round, Moscow, 14 March 1935
1. d4 d5 2. c4 c6 3. Nf3 Nf6 4. e3 e6 5. Nc3 Nbd7 6. Bd3 rDb1kgw4
d×c4 7. B×c4 b5 8. Bd3 a6 9. e4 c5 10. e5 c×d4 11. N×b5 N×e5 DwDwDp0p
12. N×e5 a×b5 (see diagram) wDwDphwD
13. Qf3 Ståhlberg wrote: “This move, put into practice for DpDwHwDw
the first time in the match of Ståhlberg against Spielmann in the wDw0wDwD
city of Stockholm, 1933, is nowadays [1943] considered as the DwDBDwDw
refutation of the famous Meran Variation, conceived by Rubin- P)wDw)P)
stein.” Capablanca did not know the existence of this possibility, $wGQIwDR
but the evening before this game, during the dinner, he asked the After 12. … a×b5
Swedish master:
What could I play against the great Russian theorist Levenfish? Because if I play d4 he will repli-
cate with the Slav Defense that he knows inside out.
And why don’t you enter in the Slav Defense? Because if he plays the Meran Variation, he
won’t probably know my innovation against the Blumenfeld Variant.
The conversation ended with a blind analysis of the Ståhlberg’s variant, after which
Capablanca concluded: “You know, it seems to me a very good idea.”31
And this is how he put it into practice:
13. ... Ra5 Correct is 13. ... Bb4+ 14. Ke2 Rb8 15. Nc6 Bb7 16. Bf4 Bd6 17. N×d8
B×f3+ 18. K×f3 R×d8 19. B×b5+ Ke7 with an even game. Bronstein–Botvinnik, Moscow
1951. 14. 0–0 b4 15. Bf4 Be7 16. Rfc1 0–0 17. Qh3 Rc5 Better is 17. ... Rd5 18. Rc7 Bd7
and if 19. R×d7?! R×d7 20. Bg5 h5 21. B×f6 B×f6 22. N×d7 Q×d7 23. Q×h5 Rc8 Black is
OK. 18. R×c5 B×c5 19. Bg5 h6 If 19. ... h5 20. Rc1 Be7 21. Nc6 Qd7 22. N×e7+ Q×e7
23. Q×h5 N×h5 24. B×e7 Re8 25. B×b4 with a winning position. 20. Ng4! Be7 21. B×f6
Quicker seems 21. N×h6+ g×h6 (if 21. ... Kh8 22. Ng4+ Kg8 23. N×f6+ B×f6 24. Qh7
mate) 22. B×f6 B×f6 23. Q×h6 Re8 24. Bh7+ Kh8 25. Bg6+ Kg8 26. Qh7+ Kf8 27. Q×f7
mate. 21... g×f6 If 21. ... B×f6 22. N×h6+ g×h6 23. Q×h6 Re8 24. Bh7+ Kh8 25. Bg6+
Kg8 26. Qh7+ Kf8 27. Q×f7 mate. 22. N×h6+ Kg7 23. Qg4+ Kh8 If 23. ... K×h6 24. Qh4+
Kg7 25. Qh7 mate. 24. Qh5 Kg7 25. N×f7! Rh8 If 25. ... R×f7 26. Qh7+ Kf8 27. Qh8
mate. 26. Qg6+ Black resigned. If 26. ... Kf8 27. N×h8 Qe8 28. Qh6+ Kg8 29. Qh7+ Kf8
30. Ng6+ Q×g6 31. B×g6 d3 32. Qf7 mate. 1–0.
Ståhlberg related how, when the game was finished and Levenfish learned from Capa-
blanca himself that he had fallen into a novelty published in the Swedish chess magazine,
the Russian master complained that it seemed incredible that in a country like his, where
there was so much love for chess, they had heard no news of such an analysis. Capablanca
understood in Moscow 1935 that it was imperative for him to update himself on the new
ideas about openings. “I am now studying topical opening variations,” he acknowledged.
Apparently, Capablanca spent pleasant moments in Moscow 1935 while talking about chess
to the masters participating in the tournament. Piotr Arsenievich Romanovsky recalled in
Shakhmaty v. SSSR (March 1956, pages 87–89):“On several occasions I showed him [Capa-
blanca] my games and positions from them, and sometimes I was simply stunned by the
speed, clarity and precision with which he would offer solutions to my problems.”
The second Moscow international tournament did not award the participating masters
in the splendid form that had been the case in 1925. This time the earnings were much lower.
Flohr, by his tie in first place with Botvinnik, received $400 (about $6,500 in 2015); Capa-
blanca finished in fourth place and received $150, while Spielmann received $100 for his
fifth place. The native players were paid in national currency, which at the time had no value
in the foreign exchange markets, but it was usually considered very volatile, especially in the
black market, where the rate could range from 25 to 50 rubles for a dollar. Botvinnik won
5,000 rubles; Levenfish 2,250; Ragozin, Lilienthal (who then resided in Moscow) and
Romanovsky, 1,000 rubles. Botvinnik was also awarded for his effort with the title of “Grand-
master” by the Institute of Physical Culture, as well as a new car that the Minister of Heavy
Industry gave him.
From the monetary point of view, Capablanca received for the trip to Moscow, in addi-
tion to the $150 for fourth place, another $500 (over $8000) for participating, plus $200
for travel expenses up to the border of the Soviet Union.32 The tournament was so successful
that rather than waiting for another 10 years to celebrate a new competition at the highest
level, the Soviet sports authorities assured both Capablanca and Lasker that the next tour-
nament would be the next year, once the final permit was granted.
On March 16, while Capablanca faced 30 strong rivals in Moscow—7 defeated him
and 9 others drew—Aron Nimzowitsch died in Copenhagen. The Cuban respected the Lat-
vian-Danish master personally and once said that if Nimzowitsch had faced Alekhine in a
match for the world championship, he would have done better than Bogoljubow. When
Capablanca evaluated his main rivals in the tournament of New York 1927, he praised Nim-
zowitsch for his “original ideas in the openings and very profound conceptions of the the-
oretical character in the middle game.” The Cuban considered him not to be feared in a long
match, despite regarding him as “a most dangerous opponent, a player capable of upsetting
anybody’s score in a tournament.” One of the most interesting and amusing of Capablanca’s
judgments of Nimzowitsch was: “He plays such bizarre openings and such complicated
games that very often he is as much puzzled as his opponent.”33
Capablanca said goodbye to his fans in Leningrad, when in a simultaneous display on
March 21 he won 21 games, lost 3 and drew 1. It is known that one of the participants was
Alexander Kazimirovich Tolush, who was then 25 years old and who in the course of time
would be a grandmaster and trainer of the future world champion Boris Vasilievich Spassky.
En route to England, via France, Capablanca had to go to a doctor in Berlin, who found him
so sick that he ordered him to stay in his hotel room. In a letter to Eremeyev on March 31, he
explained that he was writing “from bed.” His discomfort was not so fleeting; he had to cancel
his plans to offer several exhibitions in the German capital and other cities in that country.
But British newspapers did not perceive any abnormality in the Cuban when he arrived
at the seaside resort of Margate, where the spring classic tournament was held starting April
24. This time the tournament, besides the additional attraction of Capablanca, would have
the participation of the young American master Samuel Reshevsky, at the age of 23, who
was discovering the international circuits of chess outside the United States, after debuting
in the Pasadena 1932 tournament. It was the game between the two in the fourth round that
decided the competition. Reshevsky, with a little better position, did not accept the draw
offered by the Cuban. At the end, the Polish-American won the game in 56 moves. Capa-
blanca had a high respect for Reshevsky’s talent. When the Cuban was in Puerto Rico the
previous year, he told the newspaper El Mundo, “That young fellow plays very well.” In Mar-
gate, Capablanca finished second, half a point behind the winner, the young Reshevsky. He
could at least take revenge for the defeat suffered against Thomas in Hastings.
In 1935, Capablanca’s popularity among English fans was still enormous, as recalled by
Heinrich Fraenkel, who under the nom de plume Assiac wrote “The Delights of Chess,” in
the prologue to Capablanca’s book Last Lectures, published in London in 1967. Fraenkel
Margate 1935
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
1 Reshevsky, Samuel H. • 1 ½ ½ 1 1 1 ½ 1 1 71⁄2
2 Capablanca, José R. 0 • 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 7
3 Thomas, George Alan ½ 0 • ½ 1 ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ 5
4 Klein, Ernst L. ½ ½ ½ • ½ 0 1 0 1 ½ 41⁄2 19.75
5 Sergeant, Edward G. 0 0 0 ½ • ½ ½ 1 1 1 41⁄2 14.75
6 Reilly, Brian P. 0 0 ½ 1 ½ • 1 ½ 0 ½ 4 16.25
7 Fairhurst, William A. 0 ½ ½ 0 ½ 0 • ½ 1 1 4 15.00
8 Milner-Barry, Philip S. ½ 0 0 1 0 ½ ½ • 0 1 31⁄2
9 Menchik, Vera 0 0 ½ 0 0 1 0 1 • 0 21⁄2 10.00
10 Mieses, Jacques 0 0 ½ ½ 0 ½ 0 0 1 • 21⁄2 9.25
recalled that one afternoon, while he was playing in the group “Premier Reserve,” more than
100 people swirled around his table but all of them giving him their backs, as they were
absorbed in Capablanca’s game against Reshevsky, being played about 15 or 20 feet away. Of
the same tournament, Fraenkel remembered that a child approached him to ask for his auto-
graph and when he told the boy: “There is no point on getting my autograph,” the boy dis-
agreed. “Oh yes, sir,” he said, “I must have your autograph too.” “But why on earth?” asked
an astonished Fraenkel. “It is not good for your collection.” “Oh, yes sir,” said the boy, his
face beaming, “I saw you talking to Capablanca!”
Despite its brevity, the game against Milner-Barry is packed with tactical details.
Capablanca–Stuart Milner-Barry [C78]

7th Round, Margate, 1 May 1935
1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. 0–0 Bc5 The modern way to play is 5. ...
b5 6. Bb3 Bc5 7. c3 d6 8. a4 Rb8 9. d4 Bb6 10. a×b5 a×b5 11. h3 0–0 12. Re1 Bb7 with a
complicated position. 6. c3 Ba7 Better seems 6. ... b5 7. Bc2 d6 8. a4 Bg4 9. h3 Bh5 10. b4
Bb6 11. a×b5 a×b5 12. R×a8 Q×a8 13. Na3 Na7 14. d3 0–0 15. Bg5 Nd7 16. Bb3 with
a complicated position. Illescas–Adams, Dos Hermanas, Spain 1999. 7. d4 N×e4 If
7. ... 0–0 8. Bg5 h6 9. Bh4 b5 10. d×e5 g5 11. e×f6 Q×f6 (to be considered is 11. ... g×h4
12. N×h4 Q×f6 13. Qg4+ Kh8 14. Bc2 d5 15. Qh5 Rg8 with chances for both sides) 12. e5
Qg7 13. Bc2 g×h4 14. N×h4 N×e5 15. Nf5 Qf6 16. Qh5 Re8 17. N×h6+ Kf8 18. Nd2 d5
19. Rae1 with White’s advantage. Tal–Keres, Tallin 1959. 8. Re1 f5 9. Nbd2 0–0 If 9. ...
N×d2 10. B×c6 N×f3+ 11. B×f3 0–0 (if 11. ... e4 12. B×e4 f×e4 13. R×e4+ Kf7 14. Qh5+
g6 15. Qd5+ Kg7 16. Qe5+ Qf6 17. Bh6+ Kf7 18. Rf4 winning) 12. Qb3+ Kh8 13. R×e5
c6 14. Re1 d5 15. Bf4 with White’s advantage. 10. N×e4 f×e4 11. Bg5 Qe8 12. R×e4 d6 If
12. ... Qg6 13. N×e5 Q×e4 14. Bc2 Q×c2 15. Q×c2 N×e5 16. d×e5 R×f2 17. Qb3+ Kh8
18. Kh1 b5 19. Bh4 Rf5 20. Qd5 Rb8 21. Re1 with a winning position. 13. d×e5 Qg6
(see diagram)
rDbDw4kD 14. Rf4! R×f4 If 14. ... N×e5 15. N×e5 d×e5 16. R×f8+
gp0wDw0p K×f8 17. Qd8+ Kf7 18. Qe8 mate; If 14. ... Bf5 15. e×d6 c×d6
pDn0wDqD 16. Qd5+ Be6 17. Q×d6 R×f4 18. B×f4 Bb8 19. Qd2 with a win-
DwDw)wGw ning position. 15. B×f4 Bg4 If 15. ... N×e5 16. B×e5 d×e5
BDwDRDwD 17. Qd8+ Kf7 18. Bb3+ Be6 19. N×e5 mate; If 15. ... d×e5
Dw)wDNDw 16. B×c6 Q×c6 17. Qd8+ Kf7 18. N×e5+ winning; If 15... Be6
P)wDw)P) 16. e×d6 c×d6 17. Ng5 Kh8 18. Q×d6 with a winning position.
$wDQDwIw 16. Qb3+ Qf7 17. Ng5 Q×b3 18. B×b3+ Black resigned. If 18. …
After 13. … Qg6 Kf8 19. e×d6 c×d6 20. B×d6+ Ke8 21. h3. 1–0.
That year A Primer of Chess, the sixth book written by Capablanca, was published in
the United States.34 The Cuban presented it as the second of a planned three volumes which
he was never able to complete. The third book of this unfinished collection would be on the
openings. Perhaps as an introduction to what the fans would encounter there, Capablanca
devoted one of the chapters of A Primer of Chess to the revision of several opening principles,
instead of theoretical lines. Some have suggested that this served as inspiration to Reuben
Fine for his book The Ideas Behind the Chess Openings, published in 1943, a year after Capa-
blanca’s death. Although volume one of the planned series, Chess Fundamentals, was about
chess principles, A Primer of Chess was a text for beginners, in which the author’s purpose
was that anyone who read it would learn the game without a teacher. Although the book
was released on February 7, it was not reviewed in the New York Times until March 17, when
two other chess books were also commented upon: The Game of Chess, by Siegbert Tarrasch;
and Chess for the Fun of It, by Brian Harley. A Primer of Chess never came to have the influence
of Chess Fundamentals.35
After Margate, Capablanca requested permission from Cuba to establish his residence
in Brussels, Belgium, “because,” as he wrote, “I intend to perform certain activities in that
nation.”36 It is probable he had good business contacts there from the era of Márquez Sterling,
but also in Brussels he was more discreet than in Paris and he was accompanied by Olga at
a time when he was trying to maintain his relationship with her out of the spotlight. Olga
clarifies that she did not attend the Royal Palace on the day in which Capablanca presented
his diplomat credentials to King Leopold III. According to the Cuban ambassador in Brus-
sels, the monarch walked enthusiastically towards Capablanca and told him: “Oh, Master,
all my life I have wanted to meet you. I have studied your games and now you are here in
person.” The anecdote, part of an ample article about Olga’s reminiscences, was published
by Edward Winter in his Chess Notes with the title: “The Genius and the Princess.”
The year culminated with the surprise victory of Euwe against Alekhine in the match
for the world championship. Capablanca knew about this in Spain, where he was offering
10 simultaneous exhibitions in seven different cities (results: 300 wins, 9 losses and 7 draws,
for an average of 96.04 percent).37 On December 20, the Associated Press, dateline Madrid,
said that Capablanca was ready once again for the supreme scepter battle: “José Capablanca,
chess expert, said today he had drafted a challenge to Dr. Max Euwe of Amsterdam, who
recently won the world’s title from Dr. Alexander Alekhine, offering to meet the champion
on the latter’s terms. Capablanca, who is a former holder of the world title, is the Cuban
Commercial Attaché for Europe” (New York Times, December 21, 1935, page 21).
But apparently the Cuban was unaware then that Alekhine had stipulated the right to
a rematch in a clause in the agreement for his match with Euwe. When Capablanca returned
to New York on board the liner Île de France on January 9, he said he visited Euwe. The New
York Times wrote that while he was most cordially received, he went away with only the
vaguest assurances. The newspapers reminded their readers that the Cuban grandmaster,
who once was hailed as the infant marvel of the chess world, became older every year and
that preparations for a new Euwe–Alekhine match would take at least a year. In an interview
with John Drebinger in the New York Times on January 11, 1936, Capablanca was opposed
to FIDE’s idea of deciding the world championship through a tournament. Instead, the Cuban
expressed again his idea that the best way was a match of 16 or 20 games. “The play each
day should consist of a four-hour session, a two-hour recess, and then a three-hour session,
with no analysis allowed at any time.” This suggested format can be seen as a sign that he
understood increasingly better the passing of the years and its negative influence on his body.
When Drebinger asked about the Moscow tournament and the performance of Lasker,
Capablanca replied: “He beat me in our game, and he did it fairly and squarely with no excuses.
He still is the most formidable player I know in a single game or a short match.” Although
1935 saw Capablanca return to international chess, he failed to win any of the three tournaments
in which he participated, but at least he was not a phantom anymore in the chess arena as
in 1932 and 1933, until he returned in the Hastings Christmas tournament of 1934-1935.
Next year, however, Caissa would smile upon him again.
16. Smiling Again
The year 1936 was to be a remarkable one.

Aboard the Oriente, the same ship that took him to Havana at the end of January, Capa-
blanca returned to New York on March 31, 1936. Even before leaving Cuba he announced
that he would return to Europe in a few months to participate in two major tournaments,
both in England: Margate in April and Nottingham in August. It is curious that he did not
mention the Moscow (1936) competition. Most likely he was awaiting the Soviets’ official
acceptance of his conditions. During his few weeks’ stay in Havana, Capablanca lived at the
Packard Hotel, further evidence that his marriage with Gloria was nearly ended. The Packard
was at the beginning of Paseo del Prado Boulevard, just across the narrow channel leading
to the Havana Bay. According to remembrances of Capablanca’s friends Alberto García and
Rosendo Romero, the former world champion could walk from the hotel to the Union Club,
diagonally opposite to the hotel, or go to La Bilbaína, a Basque restaurant that was his
favorite in Havana, also in El Prado Boulevard.
On April 4th, from New York, Capablanca boarded the luxury liner Île de France en
route to England to participate in the Margate International Chess Tournament. A brief
notice appeared in the New York Times of that day:
José R. Capablanca of Havana, who will sail for England today on the French liner Île de France,
visited the Manhattan [Chess Club] rooms after play started [the 2nd round of preliminaries of
the U.S. Chess Championship] and renewed acquaintances with many old friends. He chatted
also with Rafael Cintrón of Puerto Rico and discussed the possibility of his participation in an
international tournament being planned in San Juan early next year.
The results of the tournament in the English seaside town of Margate was a good begin-
ning for the year 1936. The event was limited to ten players in a single round, a format that
Capablanca disliked, despite his victory in Budapest 1928 or Hastings 1930-1931. But the
Cuban never won any of the three Margate events in which he participated. The first prize
was determined in the last round when Capablanca, despite beating Thomas, ended half a
point behind Flohr—who won against the Briton Edward Guthlac Sergeant in the regular
session of the ninth and final round and against Theodore Henry Tylor in 107 moves of a
game adjourned for the second time, which together made the difference between Flohr’s
7½ points and the 7 of Capablanca, who in the event just managed to draw against Tylor.
Shortly before the beginning of the competition the Cuban received a telegram from
Eremeyev, who told him that his conditions to participate in the Moscow chess tournament
were accepted, under the same terms of the previous year. In his response letter to Eremeyev,
April 13, Capablanca asked him whether he should go to Leningrad or to Moscow. He was
416
also worried about the intimidating border procedures going into the Soviet Union and
asked Eremeyev to “Kindly see that instructions are given at the frontier so that I am not
bothered about my luggage,” knowing that his petition will be handled by Krylenko (Linder,
José Raúl Capablanca, pages 203–204). Capablanca also asked his Soviet host not to arrange
any simultaneous display the same day of his arrival, a mistake made in 1935. Also “to leave
at least one day between the exhibition and the beginning of the competition.” Both suggestions
were instrumental in his victory in Moscow, the only one of his career in Russian lands.
This time the Moscow competition promised a real struggle because every master should
play two times against each rival, and there was a similar force in the composition of the
participants. In addition to Lasker and Capablanca, Flohr, Lilienthal and the Austrian Erich
Eliskases would take part as foreigners, as well as Botvinnik, Levenfish, Riumin, Kan and
Ragozin for the Soviets. According to Andy Soltis (Soviet Chess 1917–1991), Moscow 1936
was Botvinnik’s project in both its implementation and its format. In a letter to Krylenko,
Botvinnik indicated that the 1935 tournament had strong and weak players, proposing
instead a more balanced competition, with less chance that someone could win it by victim-
izing the bottom player in the tournament. He certainly was thinking about Flohr, who
accumulated 8 points of 10 possible against the lowest in the crosstable of the 1935 tourna-
ment, while Botvinnik made only 7 points against them in the same competition. This seems
to agree with the criticism of Alekhine about Flohr in the book of the Nottingham tourna-
ment on the occasion of the defeat of the Czechoslovakian master at the hands of Tylor.1
Capablanca arrived in Moscow by train on May 11; the tournament started just four days
later, May 15. As usual he was not in shape at the beginning. During the first round he drew his
game with the Soviet master Ilia Kan after missing several stronger moves. In the second round
Capablanca (Black) had to fight with disadvantages against Flohr, after an error in the opening,
but at the end Flohr was unable to impose his advantage and the game was a draw in 45 moves.
The Cuban received a significant gift in the third round against Riumin (Black), who
left his queen en prise in the middle of the board on move 26. It is no wonder that outlining
the Moscow tournament for the magazine Wiener Schachzeitung, Eliskases wrote: “Luck has
finally smiled on Capablanca.” To come out of the openings in difficult positions was usual
with Capablanca, but in Moscow it became a dangerous habit. However, when the Cuban
faced Botvinnik in round seven, both were ahead with a score of 4 out of 6 possible points.
Botvinnik built an advantageous position that perhaps on another occasion he would have
managed to transform into a permanent advantage, but not this time when the technical
defensive play of his rival made him consume too much time. On move 39, after an exchange
sacrifice which was not imperfect but also was not necessary, the Soviet master made a
mistake and lost the game. From then on, it was not hard to imagine that Capablanca was
the favorite to win the competition.
Mikhail M. Botvinnik–Capablanca [A30]

7th Round, Moscow, 22 May 1936
1. Nf3 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. g3 b6 4. Bg2 Bb7 5. 0–0 c5 6. b3 Nc6 Better is 6. ... Be7 7. Bb2
d5 (Capablanca). 7. Bb2 Be7 8. Nc3 0–0 Now if 8. ... d5 9. c×d5 e×d5 10. d4 White is better
(Capablanca). 9. d4 N×d4 If 9. ... d5 10. c×d5 N×d5 11. N×d5 e×d5 (if 11. ... Q×d5 12. Ne5
Qd6 13. d×c5 winning) 12. d×c5 b×c5 13. Ne1 Nb4 14. a3 Na6 15. Nd3 Nc7 16. Nf4 Rb8
17. e3 and White is better. 10. N×d4 B×g2 11. K×g2 c×d4 12. Q×d4 Qc7 “White has
played the opening accurately and has already gained a positional advantage. The continu-
ation chosen by Black leads to a passive defense, which will gradually lead to a hopeless posi-
tion. It is doubtful whether 12. ... Bc5 was better, since after, for example, 13. Qd3 d5 14. c×d5
N×d5 15. N×d5 Q×d5+ 16. Q×d5 e×d5 it will be very difficult for Black to hold his isolated
d-pawn” (Capablanca). 13. e4 Rad8 Interesting is 13. ... d6 14. Rfd1 Rfd8 15. Rac1 a6 16. f3
Qb7 17. Ba3 Rac8 18. Qe3 h6 19. Rd3 b5 with counterplay. Belozerov–Totsky, Maikop
1998. 14. Rad1 Qb7 15. f3 Ne8 16. Rd2 f5 “Black seeks counterchances on the kingside,
since in the center and on the queenside White’s advantage is undisputed. In addition, he
wishes to have the f7 square to defend his week pawn at d7 with the rook” (Capablanca).
17. Rfd1 Bg5 Better is 17. ... Bf6 (Capablanca). 18. Rd3 Bf6 19. e5 Be7 20. Qf2 Rf7 21. Qd2
Bb4 22. a3 Bf8 23. Ne2 Nc7 If 23. ... b5 24. c×b5 Q×b5 25. Nf4 Rc8 26. b4 and White is
better. 24. Nf4 g6 25. h4 b5 If 25. ... Qc8 26. a4 Bh6 27. Rd6 and White is better (Botvinnik).
If 25. ... Bh6 26. N×e6 N×e6 (if 26. ... B×d2 27. N×d8 Qc8 28. N×f7 K×f7 29. R3xd2 Ke8
30. R×d7 Q×d7 31. R×d7 K×d7 32. Kf2 winning) 27. Q×h6 f4 28. Rd6 Re8 29. g4 with a
winning position (Botvinnik). 26. c×b5 Q×b5 27. Rc1 Qb7 If 27. ... Qb8 28. Qa5 Nd5 (if
28. ... d5 29. e×d6 B×d6 30. Rcd1 Ne8 31. R×d6 R×d6 32. Qe5 Rg7 33. N×e6 winning)
29. N×d5 e×d5 30. Q×d5 winning; if 27. ... Qb6 28. Bc3 B×a3 29. Rc2 d5 30. Ba5 Qa6
31. B×c7 Rc8 32. Bd6 winning. 28. R×c7 White could win immediately with 28. Qa5 d5
29. e×d6 B×d6 (if 29. ... R×d6 30. Qe5 Bg7 31. Q×d6 winning) 30. Be5 (Botvinnik). 28. ...
Q×c7 29. N×e6 d×e6 30. R×d8 f4 31. g4 Qe7 32. Kh3 Qb7 33. Qd3 Kg7 34. b4 a5
35. b5 a4 36. g5 Bc5 37. Rd6 “By this point Botvinnik’s clock was showing almost two
hours (the control time). He made a move which involves a very complicated combination,
and therefore demanded accurate calculation. There was no necessity to force matters. By con-
tinuing calmly with 37. Kg4 White could easily have reached the 40th move, and at any event
retained his advantage” (Capablanca). 37. ... B×d6 38. e×d6+ Kf8 39. Bf6? Better is 39. Qc3
Ke8 40. Qc6+ Qd7 41. Bf6 e5+ 42. Kg2 Kf8 43. Qa8+ Qe8 44. Qd5 Rd7 45. Be7+ Kg7
46. Q×e5+ Kf7 47. Qf6+ Kg8 48. Qe6+ Kg7 49. Kh3 with a
wDwDkDwD winning position (Botvinnik). 39. ... Ke8 40. Be7? Better is
DqDwGrDp 40. Kg2 Kd7 41. Qc4 with a draw (Botvinnik) (see diagram)
wDw)pDpD 40. ... Rf5! 41. Qc3 If 41. Kg2 R×b5 winning. 41. ... Kd7
DPDwDw)w 42. b6 Qc6! If 42... Rb5 43. Qc7+ Q×c7 44. b×c7 Rb3 45. Kg2
pDwDw0w) with an even game. If now 45. ... R×a3? 46. c8=Q+ K×c8 47. d7+
)wDQDPDK winning (Botvinnik). 43. Qg7 Q×f3+ 44. Kh2 Qg3+ 45. Kh1
wDwDwDwD Q×h4+ 46. Kg1 Qe1+ 47. Kh2 Kc6 48. Qb2 If 48. Bf6 Qd2+
DwDwDwDw 49. Kh3 Q×d6 50. b7 Qd3+ 51. Kh2 Qg3+ 52. Kh1 Rb5 win-
After 40. Be7 ning. 48. ... Rd5 49. Qc2+ Kb5 White resigned. 0–1.
After the dramatic win over Botvinnik, Capablanca strengthened his position by beating
Lilienthal in round eight. With this win, the Cuban avenged the defeat the Hungarian
inflicted upon him in the Hastings tournament of 1934-1935.
Capablanca–Andor A. Lilienthal [A12]

8th Round, Moscow, 23 May 1936
1. Nf3 d5 2. c4 c6 3. b3 Bf5 4. Bb2 e6 5. g3 Nf6 6. Bg2 Nbd7 7. 0–0 h6 8. d3 Be7
9. Nbd2 0–0 10. Rc1 a5 11. a3 Re8 12. Rc2 Bh7 13. Qa1 Bf8 The modern treatment is
13. ... Qb6 14. Rcc1 Bc5 15. d4 Be7 16. e3 Ne4 17. N×e4 B×e4 with a good game for Black.
Stein–Tal, Moscow 1971. 14. Re1 Qb6 15. Bh3 Bc5 16. Rf1 Bf8 17. Rcc1 Rad8 18. Rfe1 Bc5
19. Rf1 Bf8 20. Bg2 If 20. Ne5 N×e5 21. B×e5 Nd7 22. Bb2 f6 (Capablanca). 20. ... Bd6
Better is 20. ... e5 21. N×e5 N×e5 22. B×e5 Nd7 23. Bc3 R×e2 with an even game. 21. Ne5
B×e5 22. B×e5 N×e5 23. Q×e5 Nd7 23. ... c5 was a better option. 24. Qb2 Nf6 Better is
24. ... c5! (Capablanca). 25. b4 a×b4 26. Q×b4 Q×b4 27. a×b4 Ra8 Better seems 27. ... e5
28. c×d5 N×d5 29. b5 c×b5 30. Rc5 Nf6 31. B×b7 (if 31. R×b5 e4 32. B×e4 B×e4 33. N×e4
N×e4 34. d×e4 R×e4 with an even game) 31. ... e4 32. Bc6 Re7 33. N×e4 B×e4 34. d×e4
N×e4 35. R×b5 Nc3 with an even game. 28. Ra1 Nd7 Better seems 28. ... e5. 29. Nb3 Kf8
30. Ra5! d×c4 Better is 30. ... Ke7 31. Rfa1 R×a5 32. R×a5 Kd6 33. Ra7 Kc7 34. Na5 Rb8
35. c5 (Capablanca). 31. d×c4 Nb6 32. R×a8 R×a8 33. Na5
Ra7 34. Rd1 Ke8 (see diagram) wDwDkDwD
35. N×b7! A winning combination. 35. ... R×b7 36. B×c6+ 4pDwDp0b
Rd7 37. c5 Ke7 38. B×d7 N×d7 39. c6 Nb6 40. c7 Bf5 41. Rd8 whpDpDw0
e5 42. Rb8 Nc8 43. b5 Kd6 44. b6 Ne7 If 44. ... Kc6 45. b7 HwDwDwDw
K×c7 46. b×c8=Q+ B×c8 47. Ra8 winning. 45. Rf8 Bc8 w)PDwDwD
46. R×f7 Nd5 47. R×g7 N×b6 48. Rh7 Nd5 49. R×h6+ K×c7 DwDwDw)w
50. e4 Ne7 51. f3 Kd7 52. h4 Ke8 53. Rf6 Ng8 If 53. ... Bd7 54. wDwDP)B)
h5 Ng8 55. Rg6 Kf7 56. Rg5 winning. 54. Rc6 Black resigned. DwDRDwIw
If 54. ... Bd7 55. Rc5 winning. 1–0. After 34. … Ke8
In the fifteenth round, Capablanca again confronted Lasker. Perhaps worried about
his defeat the previous year when he chose the French Defense, the Cuban was undecided
about the opening that he would play this time. Once again he went to the aid of another
guest at the dinner, on this occasion the Soviet Jacob Rokhlin, who acted as journalist at the
tournament. Rokhlin urged Capablanca to fight with the argument that perhaps this was
the last occasion in which Lasker and the Cuban would face off. “And what do I do if he
starts with e4?” asked Capablanca in French. “In that case you could answer with a Sicilian,”
replied Rokhlin. From the dining room they went up to the Cuban’s room at the National
Hotel in Moscow, where on a board Rokhlin showed some variants, but apparently not con-
vincingly as Capablanca said in a tone that seemed definitive that he would not play it. When
the game began, Lasker moved his e pawn to the fourth rank and Capablanca, without think-
ing too much about it, answered with the acute flank challenge of the Sicilian scheme. After
a few moves, Capablanca looked for Rokhlin and when he found him, gave him a wink with
his right eye.2
Emanuel Lasker–Capablanca [B83]

15th Round, Moscow, 3 June 1936
1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. d4 c×d4 4. N×d4 Nf6 5. Nc3 d6 6. Be2 Bd7 7. Be3 e6 8. Qd2
a6 9. f4 Qc7 10. Nb3 b5 11. Bf3 Rb8 12. Ne2 Better seems 12. a3. 12. ... Be7 13. 0–0 0–0
14. Ng3 a5 15. Nd4 a4 16. Rae1 Rfc8 17. Rf2 Ne8 18. N×c6 B×c6 19. f5 Better seems 19. a3
d5 20. e×d5 Rd8 21. f5 B×d5 22. Bf4 Bd6 23. B×d5 e×d5 24. Nh5. 19. ... e5 20. Nh5 Qb7
21. Bg5 f6 22. Be3 Nc7 23. Qd1 Rd8 Better seems 23. ... d5 24. e×d5 B×d5 and Black
is a little better. 24. Rd2 Kh8 25. a3 Rbc8 26. Bf2 d5 27. e×d5 N×d5 28. B×d5 Better
seems 28. Be4 Nb6 29. Qg4 Bf8 30. B×c6 Q×c6 although Black is better. 28... R×d5 29. Qg4
Bc5 But not 29. ... g6 30. f×g6 R×d2 31. g7+ Kg8 32. Qe6 mate. 30. Red1 B×f2+ 31. K×f2
Rcd8 32. R×d5 R×d5 33. R×d5 B×d5 34. Qb4 Better seems 34. h3 Qf7 35. Kg1 although
Black is better. 34. ... Qa7+ 35. Ke2 Bc4+ 36. Kf3 Qa8+ 37. Kf2 If 37. Kg3 Qd8 with a
winning position. If 37. Ke3 Q×g2 38. Qf8+ Bg8 winning. 37. ... Qd8 38. Qc3 If 38. Ke1
h6 39. b3 a×b3 40. c×b3 Bf7 41. Qg4 Qf8 42. b4 Bd5 (Capablanca) (see diagram)
38. ... Qd1 39. Ng3 h6 40. b3 If 40. h3 Kg8 and White is
wDw1wDwi in Zugzwang. 40. ... a×b3 41. c×b3 B×b3 42. Nf1 If 42. Ne2
DwDwDw0p Bc4 with a winning position. 42. ... Qb1 43. g4 Bc4 44. Ne3 If
wDwDw0wD 44. Ng3 Qa2+ 45. Kg1 Bd5 winning. 44. ... Qh1 45. N×c4 If
DpDw0PDN 45. Kg3 Be2 46. Ng2 B×g4 47. Qc2 Qd1 winning. 45. ... Q×h2+
pDbDwDwD 46. Ke1 Qg1+ 47. Kd2 Qf2+ 48. Kc1 Qf1+ 49. Kd2 b×c4
)w!wDwDw 50. a4 Qf4+ 51. Kc2 If 51. Ke1 Qe4+ 52. Kd2 Q×g4 53. a5
w)PDwIP) Qg2+ 54. Ke3 Qg3+ 55. Kd2 Qf2+ 56. Kc1 Qa2 winning (Capa-
DwDwDwDw
blanca). 51. ... Q×g4 52. a5 Q×f5+ 53. Kc1 Qf2 Or 53. ... e4
After 38. Qc3 54. a6 Qc5 55. Qb2 c3 56. Qb8+ (if 56. Qb7 Qf2 winning )
56. ... Kh7 57. a7 Qe3+ 58. Kb1 Qd3+ 59. Ka2 c2 60. a8=Q (if
60. Kb2 Qd2 winning) 60. ... Qc4+ winning (Capablanca). 54. Qa3 If 54. Q×c4 Qe1+ 55. Kc2
Q×a5 56. Qc8+ Kh7 57. Qf5+ Kg8 58. Qe6+ Kf8 59. Qd6+ Ke8 60. Qe6+ Kd8 61. Qg8+
Ke7 62. Q×g7+ Ke6 63. Qg8+ Kd6 64. Qf8+ Kd5 65. Q×f6 Qa4+ winning (Capablanca).
54. ... Kh7 White resigned. If 55. a6 c3 56. Q×c3 Qf1+ 57. Kc2 Q×a6 winning. 0–1.
That evening Capablanca thanked Rokhlin for his suggestions, although with the
remark that the variants he had shown him were for second-rate players. In the second cycle
of the tournament, the Cuban lost the opportunity to get another win against Botvinnik,
who always mentioned he had a winning position against Capablanca in their first con-
frontation in Moscow 1936, but never mentioned he had a loss in their second game in the
same event: another case of chess player selective memory.
Capablanca–Mikhail M. Botvinnik [A95]

16th Round, Moscow, 4 June 1936
1. Nf3 f5 2. g3 Nf6 3. Bg2 e6 4. c4 Be7 5. 0–0 0–0 6. d4 d5 7. Nc3 c6 8. Qb3 Kh8
9. Ne5 Nbd7 10. N×d7 N×d7 11. Rd1 Nb6 12. c×d5 e×d5 13. Na4 Nc4 14. Nc5 b6
Moscow 1936
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
1 Capablanca, José R. • 1-½ ½-½ 1-½ 1-½ ½-1 ½-½ 1-½ ½-1 1-1 13
2 Botvinnik, Mikhail 0-½ • 1-½ 1-½ 1-½ 1-½ ½-½ ½-½ 1-1 1-½ 12
3 Flohr, Salo N. ½-½ 0-½ • 1-½ ½-0 1-½ ½-0 1-1 ½-0 ½-1 91⁄2
4 Lilienthal, Andor A. 0-½ 0-½ 0-½ • ½-½ 1-½ ½-1 ½-½ ½-1 ½-½ 9
5 Ragozin, Vyacheslav V. 0-½ 0-½ ½-1 ½-½ • 1-½ ½-1 0-½ 0-½ ½-½ 81⁄2
6 Lasker, Emanuel ½-0 0-½ 0-½ 0-½ 0-½ • 1-½ ½-1 ½-½ 1-½ 8
7 Levenfish, Grigory Y. ½-½ ½-½ ½-1 ½-0 ½-0 0-½ • 1-0 ½-½ ½-0 71⁄2 70.75
8 Eliskases, Erich G. 0-½ ½-½ 0-0 ½-½ 1-½ ½-0 0-1 • ½-½ ½-½ 71⁄2 66.75
9 Kan, Ilia A. ½-0 0-0 ½-1 ½-0 1-½ ½-½ ½-½ ½-½ • ½-0 71⁄2 64.75
10 Riumin, Nikolay N. 0-0 0-½ ½-0 ½-½ ½-½ 0-½ ½-1 ½-½ ½-1 • 71⁄2 62.25
15. Nd3 Bf6 16. Qc2 Bd7 17. e3 Nd6 18. a4 a5 19. b3 Re8 20. Ba3 Ne4 21. f3 Ng5 22. Ne5
Rc8 23. Rac1 Kg8 24. Qd3 Nf7 25. f4 Be7 26. B×e7 Q×e7 27. Rc3 N×e5 28. d×e5 Qb4
29. Rdc1 Rb8 30. Qd4 b5 31. Ra1 Ra8 32. a×b5 Q×b5 33. Rc5 Q×b3 34. R×d5 Be6
35. Rd6 c5 (see diagram)
36. Q×c5 Decisive was 36. Qd2! Rac8 37. R×e6 R×e6 rDwDrDkD
38. Bd5 Qb6 39. Qa2 winning (Capablanca). 36. ... Rec8 If 36. ... DwDwDw0p
Rac8 37. Qb6 Qc3 38. Qd4 Kf7 39. Ra6 Red8 40. Q×c3 R×c3 wDw$bDwD
41. e4 with a winning position. 37. Qb6 Better is 37. Qd4 Rc4 0w0w)pDw
38. Qd1 Q×e3+ 39. Kh1 Rac8 (if 39... Re8 40. R×e6 R×e6 wDw!w)wD
41. Qd8+ Kf7 42. Bd5 winning) 40. R×e6 Rc1 41. Re8+ Kf7 DqDw)w)w
42. R×c8 R×d1+ 43. R×d1 winning (Capablanca). 37. ... Rab8
wDwDwDB)
$wDwDwIw
38. Q×b3 B×b3 39. Bc6 Better is 39. e4 (Capablanca). 39. ...
a4 40. g4 If 40. B×a4 B×a4 41. R×a4 Rc1+ 42. Kg2 Rb2+ After 35. … c5
43. Kh3 Rh1 with an even endgame (Capablanca). 40. ... f×g4
41. Kf2 If 41. B×a4 B×a4 42. R×a4 Rc1+ 43. Kf2 Rb2+ 44. Kg3 Rg1+ 45. Kh4 h6 with an
even endgame. If 41. Bd7 Rc3 42. Kf2 h5 43. B×a4 B×a4 44. R×a4 g5 45. f×g5 Rb2+ 46. Kg3
R×e3+ 47. Kf4 Rf3+ 48. Ke4 Re2+ 49. Kd5 Rd2+ 50. Rd4 R×h2 with an even endgame.
41. ... Kf8 If 41. ... Rb4 42. Kg3 with the better endgame. 42. Kg3 Draw. ½–½ If 42. Ra3
Rb4 43. Kg3 Rc4 44. Bd7 R8c7 45. Be6 Re4 46. K×g4 R×e3 47. B×b3 a×b3 48. Rb6 Re2
49. Rb×b3 R×h2 with an even endgame.
In the words of Ståhlberg and Alles Monasterio, the Cuban worked “with a greedy
power” against Eliskases in the last round of the tournament, because he needed to win the
game to ensure for himself first place, something he had not achieved in a competition of
such magnitude since 1928, when he triumphed in Berlin. At the end of the event, Capa-
blanca was a point ahead of Botvinnik. Capablanca’s triumph in Moscow 1936 was the last
by a foreigner in the Soviet Union, and was not repeated anywhere in the world over groups
of three or more elite Soviets grandmasters until a little more than a quarter of a century
later, when in 1962, the feat was achieved both by Bobby Fischer at the Stockholm Interzonal
Tournament, and by Miguel Najdorf, in Havana, in the first Capablanca Memorial tourna-
ment, dedicated to honor the legendary Cuban master. (One could, however, also include
the strong so-called “training” tournament in Moscow and Leningrad 1939, won by Flohr,
or the small competitions that Fine won in Leningrad and Moscow 1937.) From this visit to
Moscow comes a story Olga says was told her by Capablanca himself, that Stalin observed
some games of the tournament from behind a curtain. According to the story, when Capa-
blanca was introduced to the dictator, the Cuban complained that the native players made
quick draws with one another, while extending their games against him to exhaust him. The
story, which many doubt, reflects at least some trait of Capablanca’s character: not to be
afraid to express his feelings, even before the scary figure of Stalin.3
The Cuban’s stay in 1936 in the then Soviet Union was the longest of his three trips
there. While in 1925 and 1935 Capablanca visited only Leningrad and Moscow, this time
he toured various regions and cities. In seven different places—Moscow, Leningrad, Kalin-
ingrad (old Königsberg), Kiev, Dnepropetrovsk, Odessa and Kharkov—he faced 390 oppo-
nents in 13 exhibitions; he beat 269, lost against 42 and drew with 79, for an average of
79.10 percent, following the data collected by Hooper and Brandreth. According to the Rus-
sian chess journalist and historian Alexander Sizonenko, one of the winners against Capa-
An FBI suspect? Not according to the agency. Despite his travels to Moscow in 1925, 1935 and
1936, the Federal Bureau of Investigation of the United States has denied that Capablanca had
been under its investigation (author’s collection).
blanca in Dnepropetrovsk was Isaac Yefremovich Boleslavsky, then 16 years old but a future
grandmaster and chess crown aspirant.4 As he did after his visits in 1925 and 1935, Capablanca
did not hide his admiration for the support the Soviet government gave to chess, especially
by the teaching of the game in schools. His June 19 experience in Kiev against a group of 30
children aged 10 to 16 was narrated in his radio lecture on December 16, 1941.5
Capablanca also referred in the same lectures to the talented endgame-studies com-
posers who had learned from the school of Alexey Alexeyevich Troitsky and its followers,
particularly Nikolay Dmitriyevich Grigoriev. These composers discovered a new and rich
space, where aesthetics prevailed above everything else, but without affecting the needs of
practical play. Together with Lasker, who was a connoisseur of the matter, Capablanca used
to say that the development of the endgame studies offered more light upon the artistic face
of chess than the real games themselves. He added that if one followed closely the progressive
transformation in this branch of the game—rightly, perhaps, to be called its poetry—one
could appreciate the amplitude it provided.
According to accounts of Eremeyev, who accompanied Capablanca in his tour of Russia’s
diverse regions, the Cuban had never before traveled by plane. So when the former world
champion found to his surprise that he had to fly from Kiev to Dnepropetrovsk in a small
single-engine four-seater on June 21, he astonished his host when he wrote a will in haste.
The Cuban’s phobia for aircraft happened even though one of the pioneers of commercial
aviation on the island was his compatriot Aníbal Mesa, who contributed to his trip to Mos-
cow in 1925. After his Russian experiences in 1936, the Cuban began to travel to Cuba from
Miami by air, but apparently always in some shock.6 In 1939, before departing from Buenos
Aires to the Argentine city of Mendoza, where he boarded, with Olga, an aircraft to cross
over the Andes and travel to Santiago de Chile, Capablanca also made another testament in
the presence of Leonardo Bravo y Puig, Cuban consul in the Argentine capital.7
According to Eremeyev, Capablanca left Moscow by air on July 3 heading to Brussels.
Doubtless, the rapidity of this means of transport, in which less than two weeks ago he had
had his first experience, seemed sufficiently practical to him to tempt fate. Another reason
for his haste is that Olga was expecting him in that city. It has been suggested that Capablanca
asked about the possibility of bringing her to Moscow, but either the answer he received was
not positive, or he felt that her presence would be too public to be able to hide it. When he
departed, fans, officials and journalists went to the airport to say goodbye. In the working
notebook of one of the reporters the Cuban wrote: “I hope to return soon to the USSR.”
He would not. A month and a half after his departure, the first of the infamous “Moscow
Trials” began, with the procedures against Grigory Zinoviev and Lev Kamenev, former allies
of Stalin against Trotsky. With it, the country would be involved in the nightmare of Stalin’s
purges, which even Krylenko, “permanent head” of Soviet chess and a ruthless prosecutor,
did not escape. Krylenko died in prison, apparently in 1938, or was shot in the neck at the
headquarters of the political police, the gloomy Lubyanka prison, where Krylenko had sent
many people before he himself fell from grace. For many, Krylenko was just a cold executioner,
but not for Botvinnik, who appraised him as “kind, just, principled and he loved chess,” as
he told Genna Sozonko.8 A few months after saying goodbye to his friends at the airport in
Moscow, most probably Capablanca lost all contact with Eremeyev, who survived the purges
and lived until the 1980s.9
Little more than one month later, on August 10, 1936, there began in the English city
of Nottingham the strongest chess tournament ever played up to that time. The game had
had so far five official world champions in its history, four of whom were present in Not-
tingham: the holder of the crown, Max Euwe, plus three former owners: Alexander Alekhine,
José Raúl Capablanca and Emanuel Lasker, as well as a future monarch, Mikhail Botvinnik.
Three other participants were legitimate candidates for the supreme title: Flohr, Reshevsky
and Fine. The eight strongest players in the world at that time were present; hence the chess
statistician Jeff Sonas placed it as the strongest competition between 1890 and 1990. Only
missing were Lilienthal and the young Estonian Paul Keres, but at that time they ranked
ninth and tenth in the world, so the first eight of the 1936 rankings were in Nottingham.10
On behalf of the old guard were Bogoljubow, a former official contender, plus Tar-
takower and Vidmar. The competition was of enormous importance for the highest expo-
nents of the game since in one way or another it would have bearing on future arrangements
for the supreme title. All the players had a special incentive to do a good job. Euwe wanted
to vindicate his performance at Zandvoort (his debut as world champion), where he finished
in second place behind Fine. Since the public always wants a champion to come in first, it
was a debut that was considered unsatisfactory. It was not pleasant for the Dutch master to
note that British newspapers (and following that example, several more publications through-
out the globe) remembered that Capablanca had debuted as champion with a success in
London in 1922; or that Alekhine after Buenos Aires had woven a long and impressive string
of wins. Nottingham was to Euwe what St. Petersburg 1895-1896 turned out to be for Lasker
after Hastings 1895: the chance to redeem himself, his title and prestige.
The contest had for Alekhine no less importance, after the crisis of confidence that
arose during the match with Euwe, which someone called in a disrespectful way interregnum
intoxicatus. Evidence that the French Russian master was in recovery was his triumph shared
with Keres at Bad Nauheim, in May; his first prize in Dresden, in June; and his second place
in Bad Podiebrad 1936 (Poděbrady) after Flohr, a tournament that ended just two weeks
before Nottingham. For Capablanca, the tournament had the paramount importance that
his name could be chosen at the next FIDE meeting as the official challenger. This organi-
zation was determined to grip the reins of control over the meetings at the summit, if Euwe
retained the scepter. Otherwise, the Cuban already intuited that Alekhine would seek
another opponent as he did before.
Alekhine, Euwe and Botvinnik’s results in the first round of the competition (victories
against Flohr, Reshevsky, and Alexander, respectively) made the British press direct its atten-
tion to them. Capablanca was not taken into consideration because of his quick draw with
Tartakower. In the book of the tournament, A.J. Mackenzie wrote that Capablanca was
slightly ill, without clarifying that it was because of something he ate, and maybe because
he had been awake for longer than usual on the eve of a competition. This happened because
it was said that his first-day rival, Tartakower, had drowned in the River Thames after the
ferry which brought him from Rotterdam collided with another vessel in the fog and sank
in the vicinity of London. For the Cuban it was a surprise when, 20 minutes after his hapless
rival’s clock was started, to comply with the rules of the tournament, the ghost of Tartakower
appeared “with the utmost composure seated at his table, ready to give him a battle.” Tar-
takower, unaware that they thought he was dead, and that even a tournament participant
regretted that “from now on we’ll miss his coffee-house style,” understood immediately by
the facial expression of the Cuban that something unusual was happening: “Capablanca, on
the other hand, was taken aback. He played without his usual zest and offered me a draw as
early as the 20th move.”
Actually, Tartakower departed from Rotterdam to the port of Hull, not to London,
because his Dutch friend Dr. Gerard Oskam convinced him to do so. Once his corporeal
appearance left no doubt of his existence in the realm of the living, another problem arose.
The game was drawn in 19 moves, but the tournament rules prohibited a draw before 30
moves. Capablanca had no other choice but to request permission from Mackenzie to con-
clude the game. After explaining the rules, Mackenzie asked the Cuban: “What would you
do, Señor Capablanca, if you were in my position?” Capablanca’s prompt reply was: “If two
masters of the caliber of Dr. Tartakower and me were to appraise the position as even, I
would accept their opinion without the slightest hesitation.”11
But Mackenzie would have it worse the next day, when Capablanca and Alekhine
clashed for the first time since Buenos Aires 1927. Complications arose when Alekhine,
absorbed in his thoughts, did not put his sealed move into an envelope after 6:00 p.m., but
played it on the board at 6:15. When Mackenzie told Alekhine that his last move was the
sealed one, he protested. “His contention was, I believe, that he had not been told by the
Director of play, Mr. Mackenzie, to seal his move,” explained Capablanca in a letter to the
British magazine Chess (November 1936, No. 15).12 According to the Cuban, it was Alekhine’s
objection to this rule that brought about the incident, and not any complaint on his part,
as was wrongly written by Chess magazine in its September 1936 issue. The deadlock lasted
until 8:00 p.m., when an “informal committee” of officials changed Mackenzie’s ruling and
told Capablanca that his next move would be the sealed one. The Cuban did so, pending a
final decision by the Executive Committee of the British Chess Federation. In its meeting
of August 18, the British Federation confirmed the original rule of the arbiter, “but in view
of Señor Capablanca’s acquiescence in the request of the advisory committee summoned by
the Controller, we resolve that the game must proceed from the position created by the move
Señor Capablanca provisionally sealed.” The game was never resumed because Alekhine
resigned. But Mackenzie put some blame on Capablanca when he wrote in the Nottingham
tournament book that “The incident would probably not have occurred had ‘The Opponent’
[Capablanca] remained at the board at 6 o’clock in the ordinary way to make out the diagram
while ‘The Player’ [Alekhine] was about to seal.”13
Capablanca–Alexander A. Alekhine [A92]

2nd Round, Nottingham, 11 August 1936
1. d4 e6 2. Nf3 f5 3. g3 Nf6 4. Bg2 Be7 5. 0–0 0–0 6. c4 Ne4 7. Qb3 The modern
treatment is 7. b3 Bf6 8. Bb2 b6 9. Nbd2 Bb7 10. Ne5 d6 11. Nd3 Qe7 12. Qc2 Nc6 13. e3
N×d2 14. Q×d2 Nd8 15. d5 with a little advantage for White. Gaprindashvili–Gurielli,
Tbilisi 1980. 7. ... Bf6 8. Rd1 Qe8 9. Nc3 Nc6 10. Nb5 Bd8 11. Qc2 Better is 11. d5 Na5
12. Qc2 c6 13. d×c6 b×c6 14. Nd6 (Capablanca). 11. ... d6 12. d5 Better is 12. Be3 Bd7
13. Nc3 N×c3 14. Q×c3 Bf6 15. Rac1 with even chances. 12. ... Nb4 13. Qb3 Na6 Maybe
better is 13. ... a5 14. d×e6 Nc5 15. Qc3 Ne4 with an even game. 14. d×e6 Nac5 If 14. ...
B×e6 15. Nfd4 Nac5 16. Qc2 and White is better. 15. Qc2 N×e6 16. Nfd4 N×d4 17. N×d4
Bf6 18. Nb5 Better is 18. Be3 (Alekhine). 18. ... Qe7 19. Be3 a6 20. Nd4 Bd7 21. Rac1
Rae8 22. b4 b6 23. Nf3 Better is 23. Qb3 with an even game. 23... Nc3 24. Rd3 Better is
24. Re1 c5 25. b×c5 b×c5 with an even game. 24. ... f4 Better is 24. ... Ba4 25. Qd2 Ne4
26. Qe1 g5 (Alekhine). 25. g×f4 Bf5 26. Qd2 B×d3 27. e×d3 c5? Better is 27. ... Na4
(Alekhine). But White can play 28. Ng5 B×g5 29. f×g5 Qd7 30. Qd1 with even chances.
28. R×c3 B×c3 29. Q×c3 Qf6 Maybe better is 29. ... Kh8 although White is better. 30. Q×f6
g×f6 31. Nd2 f5 32. b5 a5 If 32. ... a×b5 33. Bd5+ Kg7 34. c×b5 Re7 35. Nc4 winning.
33. Nf1 Kf7 34. Ng3 Kg6 35. Bf3 Re7 36. Kf1 Kf6 37. Bd2 Kg6 38. a4 (see diagram)
“In this position the game was adjourned, and was resigned
wDwDw4wD a few days later without being resumed. White can win in various
DwDw4wDp ways, the most ‘scientific’ being as follows: Place his bishop at c3
w0w0wDkD (during this time Black can only make waiting moves), and then
0P0wDpDw advance his h-pawn to h5; Black will have to keep his king either
PDPDw)wD at h6, or (after advancing his pawn to h6) at h7 (the latter is of
DwDPDBHw course stronger). In both cases White will place his bishop at h3,
wDwGw)w) forcing Black to defend the f5 pawn with his rooks. With his
DwDwDKDw
king at h7, Black will have to move his king between h7 and g8.
After 38. a4 White will transfer his king to f3 and, when the Black king is at
g8, transfer his knight from g3–f1–e3–d5, when Black will be
forced to defend the b6 pawn with one of his rooks. White then gives a check at f6, forcing
Black to give up the exchange. White will then carry out a further regrouping and place the
Bishop at d5, while holding the long diagonal with his other bishop from c3. Black will again
end up in a stalemate [sic] position, and hence White will win another pawn, after which
Black’s resistance will be overcome” (Capablanca). Black resigned 1–0.
The next round also brought controversies.
Salomon (Salo) Flohr–Capablanca [D59]

3rd Round, Nottingham, 12 August 1936
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 d5 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 0–0 6. Nf3 h6 7. Bh4 b6 8. c×d5 N×d5
9. B×e7 N×e7 10. Be2 Bb7 11. 0–0 Nd7 12. Qa4 a6 13. Rfd1 Nd5 14. Rac1 Rc8 15. N×d5
e×d5 16. Bd3 c5 17. d×c5 N×c5 18. Qd4 Re8 19. Bf5 Rc7 20. Qf4 Rce7 21. Nd4 a5 22. Bd3
Re5 23. Bb5 R8e7 24. Qf3 Rg5 25. Qe2 Rg6 26. Bd3 Rf6 27. Bb1 Ba6 28. Qh5 Bb7
29. a3 a4 30. Qg4 Re5 31. Nf3 Re7 32. Nd4 Re5 33. Nf3 Re7 34. Qg3 Ba6 35. Nd4 Rd7
36. Bf5 Rc7 37. Bb1 (see diagram)
37. ... Qc8? Better is 37. ... Rd7 (Alekhine) 38. Nf5 Rg6
wDw1wDkD 39. Qe5 Kh8 40. Nd4 with a small advantage for White; or 37. ...
Dw4wDp0w Bc4 38. Nf5 Ne6 39. Qe5 Rc5 40. h4 b5 41. Qg3 Qc7 with a
b0wDw4w0 small advantage for White. Alekhine wrote in the tournament
DwhpDwDw book: “A terrible oversight which threw away a position which
pDwHwDwD was by no means desperate and which had improved in the last
)wDw)w!w twelve to fifteen moves.” The explanation of this blunder has
w)wDw)P) been given by Capablanca himself in the Soviet magazine 64
DB$RDwIw
(August 20, 1936.) He writes: “Both players were very short of
After 37. Bb1 time. When four moves remained to be made our table was sur-
rounded by a crowd of journalists, participants and others. It is
impossible to play under such circumstances. Max Euwe stood at the table, and spoke several
times to Flohr telling him the number of moves remaining to be made, as both players had
stopped writing down the moves. As I requested him to keep quiet he started to argue with
me, and tried to persuade me that he was entitled to speak. This interference on Euwe’s part
was absolutely inadmissible; but the tournament director [Mackenzie] was at that time busy
with his own correspondence. I made a grave error, losing the exchange.” The story is certainly
unusual due to the attitude of Euwe and that of the controller of the tournament, who was
not sufficiently forceful with Euwe. Mackenzie in his reviews of every round in the book of
the tournament did not blame Euwe. Instead he explained that his participation in the inci-
dent was minor: “Capablanca’s complaint is undoubtedly justified. Euwe (alone) apologizes
to the Controller for his small part in the affair and takes a mild ‘wigging’ in good part.”
38. Nf5 Rg6 If 38. ... g6 39. N×h6+ Kg7 40. Nf5+ Kf8 41. Qe5 winning. 39. Nd6 R×g3
40. N×c8 R×g2+ If 40. ... Rg4 41. N×b6 winning. 41. K×g2 R×c8 42. Ba2 Rc6 If 42. ...
Rd8 43. B×d5 R×d5 44. R×d5 Bb7 45. Rcd1 Kf8 46. f3 B×d5 47. R×d5 winning. 43. B×d5
Rg6+ 44. Kh1 Nd3 45. Rc2 Rd6 46. Bf3 Rf6 47. Be4 Rd6 48. B×d3 B×d3 49. f3 B×c2
50. R×d6 b5 51. Kg2 Bb3 52. Rb6 Bc4 53. Kg3 Kf8 54. Kf4 Ke7 55. Ke5 Be2 56. f4 Bc4
57. Rb7+ Kf8 58. f5 Maybe quicker is 58. Kd6 g6 59. Kc5 g5 60. f×g5 h×g5 61. R×b5 win-
ning. 58. ... f6+ 59. Kf4 h5 60. e4 Be2 61. e5 f×e5+ 62. K×e5 Bc4 63. Kf4 h4 64. Kg5
After that loss, Capablanca defeated the Englishmen Tylor and Thomas with interme-
diate draws against Lasker and Botvinnik. In the ninth round, the Cuban managed to defeat
Reshevsky after a complex endgame that was discussed extensively both by Irving Chernev
in Capablanca’s Best Chess Endings, and by Reuben Fine in his book Basic Chess Endings. It
was also meticulously commented on by Soviet grandmaster Igor Zakharovich Bondarevsky,
who found various possibilities for Reshevsky to save his game.
Capablanca–Samuel Reshevsky [E03]

9th Round, Nottingham, 20 August 1936
1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. c4 d×c4 4. Qa4+ Nbd7 5. Q×c4 e6 6. g3 a6 7. Bg2 b5 8. Qc6
Ra7 9. Bf4 Bb7 10. Qc1 c5 11. d×c5 B×c5 12. 0–0 0–0 13. Nbd2 Qe7 14. Nb3 Bb6 15. Be3
Rc8 16. Qd2 Ne4 17. Qd3 Nec5 18. N×c5 N×c5 19. Qd1 Ba8 20. Rc1 Rac7 21. b3 Nd7
22. R×c7 R×c7 23. B×b6 N×b6 24. Qd4 Nd5 25. Rd1 f6 26. Ne1 Bb7 27. B×d5 e×d5?
Better is 27. ... B×d5 28. Qb6 Bb7 with an even game. 28. e3 Qe4 29. h4 a5 30. f3 Q×d4
Better is 30. ... Qe5 31. Kf2 b4 with an even game (Alekhine). 31. R×d4 Rc1 32. Kf2 Ra1
33. Rd2 a4 34. Nd3 Rb1 35. Rb2 R×b2+ 36. N×b2 Bc6 37. Nd3 g5 38. h×g5 f×g5
39. Nb4 a×b3 40. a×b3 Bb7 41. g4 Kg7 Better is 41. ... Kf7 42. Ke2 (if 42. Nc2 Bc8
43. Nd4 Bd7 44. Kg3 Kf6 45. f4 Be8 46. Nf3 g×f4+ 47. e×f4 h5 with an even endgame)
42. ... Kf6 43. Kd3 Ke5 44. Nc2 Bc6 45. Nd4 Be8 46. Kc3 h5 47. g×h5 B×h5 48. Kb4 g4
49. f×g4 B×g4 50. K×b5 Ke4 51. Kc5 K×e3 with an even endgame (Bondarevsky). 42. Ke2
Kg6? Better is 42. ... Kf6 43. Kd3 Ke5 44. Nc2 (if 44. Kc3 d4+
with an even endgame) 44. ... Bc6 45. Nd4 Be8 46. Kc3 h5 wDwDbDwD
47. g×h5 B×h5 48. Kb4 g4 49. f×g4 B×g4 50. K×b5 Ke4 51. Kc5 DwDwDwDw
K×e3 with an even endgame (Bondarevsky). 43. Kd3 h5 wDwDwDwD
44. g×h5+ K×h5 45. Kd4 Kh4 46. N×d5 Kg3 47. f4 g4 48. f5 DpDw)PDw
Bc8 49. Ke5 Bd7 50. e4 Be8 51. Kd4 Better is 51. f6 Kf3 52. Nf4 wDwIwDwD
g3 53. Kf5 Bd7+ 54. Kg5 Be6 55. N×e6! g2 56. f7 g1=Q+ 57. Kf6 DPDwHk0w
winning (Bondarevsky). 51. ... Kf3 52. e5 g3 53. Ne3 (see dia- wDwDwDwD
gram) DwDwDwDw
53. ... Kf4? Better is 53. ... Bf7! 54. e6 Bg8 55. e7 Bf7 56. f6 After 53. Ne3
Kf4 with a draw (Bondarevsky). 54. e6 g2 55. N×g2+ K×f5 56. Kd5 Kg4 If 56... Kf6
57. Kd6 winning. For example 57. ... Kg7 58. Ne3 Bh5 59. e7 Bf7 60. b4 Kg6 61. Nd5 Kf5
62. Nc7 winning. 57. Ne3+ Kf4 58. Kd4 Black resigned. 1–0.
So Capablanca defeated Reshevsky in a game that, played correctly by both sides, should
have been a draw, while he lost against Flohr when he already had reached an almost even
position. Botvinnik understood that such events were a normal type of equilibrium occurring
in incidental and unavoidable ways. In 1967, the former world champion won against the
Cuban Eleazar Jiménez in the tournament in Palma de Mallorca, Spain, a game in which he
was worse. When Jiménez lamented having lost such a game, Botvinnik, with all his years of
experience, told him, “This is the compensation of the tournaments. I lost against [the Croa-
tian Mato] Damjanović with two pawns more in a game that I should win.”14
Capablanca traveled to England with Olga, but he did not want her to accompany him
initially to Nottingham, so she stayed in London until a few days later, when he finally asked
her to travel there. Ultimately, he was still a married man and he feared very much offending
the British sense of propriety if their relationship became known to the public. A photograph
of them together in the newspapers could be the cause for a petition of divorce due to adul-
tery. When someone started to take pictures of the wives of the masters competing in the
tournament for their publication in the magazine Chess (September 14, 1936), either Olga
had not yet arrived in Nottingham or she did not care to appear in the group where the
ladies of Euwe, Botvinnik and Flohr were. It was Olga, as usual, who left the best memories
of the tournament by a family member of any of those participating, including references
to other women, such as the wife of Flohr, whom she described as a “pretty girl with dark
curls, charmingly dressed, graceful, [who] possessed a quick understanding of people and
circumstances. She was a good friend, considerate and generous.”15
In the tenth round, Capablanca forced his hand against the Englishman William Win-
ter. This could have cost him dearly, but his opponent, after playing very well, made a serious
mistake that led him to defeat when he had at his disposal a winning move. In his radio con-
ferences of 1941–1942, Capablanca made the story of this game into an exaltation of Lasker’s
positional concept, but without mentioning against whom the game was played, so some
mistakenly believed that it was his victory over Alekhine:
Even toward the end, during the great Nottingham Tournament, his [Lasker’s] quick sight of the
board was still notable. In this connection I am reminded of the following incident: I had just
won a very important game and I was on the way back to the hotel. During the course of the
game my opponent had built up a magnificent position. At a certain point he saw the opportu-
nity to win the exchange, and did so. Yet he lost the game! Some of the world’s greatest masters,
who were present, began to study the game. All of them began their investigations from the
point where my opponent had won the exchange, for they assumed that this had been the proper
course, and that his error must have occurred later on. They spent a good deal of time on the
game, and meanwhile Lasker came in. They told him how the game had ended, and played it
over for him; but when they came to the point where my opponent won the exchange, he inter-
rupted them and said, “Oh, no, that move can’t be right.” The aged master had realized at once
what the others had failed to perceive: that the win of the exchange was an error which lost not
only the advantage, but the game itself. Lasker saw that it was not my opponent who had made a
combination, but I! Several hours later, he met me in the hotel and said, “You must have been
relieved when your opponent swallowed the bait.” Then he added, “These players are not as
strong as most people think.” And so Lasker had been the only one who had appraised the posi-
tion properly and had been fully aware of the possibilities it contained.16
If the Cuban was lucky in his game against Winter, Botvinnik could not complain—he
did not lose his game in the fourteenth round against Euwe just at the moment when, on move
56, Euwe had a direct way to a win. On the eve of the last round, when all adjourned games
from previous rounds had been resolved, Capablanca was tied in first place with Botvinnik
with 9½ points. The only ones who could reach the leaders were Euwe, Fine and Reshevsky,
as they had accumulated 8½ points, but for this they would have to win their respective games
while Capablanca and Botvinnik lost theirs. The Cuban’s last opponent was Bogoljubow.
Botvinnik would face Winter, so it was likely that both would win and share the first prize.
When Bogoljubow met Olga the evening before the final round, he jokingly asked, “Should
I hold [stop] the champion tomorrow?” “You could not,” she answered (Town & Country,
February 1945, pages 114–115, 133–136, 139).
Capablanca–Efim D. Bogoljubow [A26]

15th Round, Nottingham, 28 August 1936
1. c4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. g3 g6 4. Bg2 Bg7 5. d3 d6 6. Bd2 f5 7. Rb1 Nf6 8. b4 0–0
9. b5 Ne7 10. Qc2 h6 11. e3 a6 12. a4 c5 13. b×a6 R×a6 14. Nge2 Nc6 15. Nd5 N×d5
16. B×d5+ Kh7 17. h4 Qe8 18. Kf1 Ne7 19. a5 N×d5 20. c×d5 Qf7 21. Qc4 f4 22. g×f4
Bg4 23. Rg1 Bf3 24. e4 e×f4 25. N×f4 Be5 26. Ne6 Raa8 27. N×f8+ R×f8 (see diagram)
At this moment in which Capablanca had almost secured
the absolute first place in the tournament, as Botvinnik was in a wDwDw4wD
bad position against Winter without possibilities of counterplay, DpDwDqDk
the Cuban made a blunder: 28. Qb5? Correct was 28. Be3 Bh2 wDw0wDp0
(if 28. ... Qg7 29. Rb6 Bh2 30. Qb5 Rf7 31. Qb2 Be5 32. Qc2 )w0PgwDw
Bh2 33. Qb3 B×g1 34. K×g1 and White is better) 29. Qb5 B×g1 wDQDPDw)
30. K×g1 b6 (if 30. ... Qf6 31. Q×b7+ Rf7 32. Q×f7+ Q×f7 DwDPDbDw
33. a6 B×e4 34. d×e4 Qf3 35. a7 Qg4+ 36. Kf1 Qc8 37. Ra1 Qa8 wDwGw)wD
38. Ra6 Kg7 39. Bf4 c4 40. B×d6 Kf7 41. Be5 winning) 31. a×b6 DRDwDK$w
Qe7 32. Kf1 Q×h4 33. Ke1 and White is winning. 28. ... B×e4 After 27. …. R×f8
29. Q×b7 B×d3+ 30. Kg2 Be4+ At this time, Olga returned
Nottingham 1936
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
1 Capablanca, José R. • ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 0 ½ 1 ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 10 62.25
2 Botvinnik, Mikhail ½ • ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 1 1 ½ 10 61.50
3 Fine, Reuben ½ ½ • ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ 1 1 1 ½ 1 91⁄2 60.00
4 Reshevsky, Samuel 0 ½ ½ • 0 1 ½ 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 ½ 91⁄2 58.00
5 Euwe, Max ½ ½ ½ 1 • 0 ½ 0 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 91⁄2 56.25
6 Alekhine, Alexander 0 ½ ½ 0 1 • 1 ½ ½ 1 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 9
7 Flohr, Salo 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 • 1 1 ½ 1 0 0 1 1 81⁄2 57.50
8 Lasker, Emanuel ½ ½ 0 0 1 ½ 0 • ½ ½ 1 1 1 1 1 81⁄2 48.75
9 Vidmar, Milan 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ 0 ½ • ½ 1 ½ 1 ½ 1 6
10 Tartakower, Savielly ½ 0 ½ ½ 0 0 ½ ½ ½ • ½ 0 0 1 1 51⁄2 34.25
11 Bogoljubow, Efim ½ 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 0 0 ½ • 1 1 1 1 51⁄2 26.00
12 Tylor, Theodore 0 0 0 0 0 ½ 1 0 ½ 1 0 • ½ ½ ½ 41⁄2
13 Alexander, Conel H. 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 1 0 ½ • ½ ½ 31⁄2
14 Thomas, George A. 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ 0 0 ½ ½ • ½ 3
15 Winter, William 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 ½ ½ ½ • 21⁄2
from the salon, where she had gone with Flohr’s wife. She saw a dense crowd was gathered at
the landing (of the stair) and realized that there were many more people than usual. Something
about their expressions struck her, something she did not like. She pushed through the crowd
and the only familiar face happened to be a young journalist who had come to the tournament
with the Soviet players. She asked him in Russian breathlessly, “How is Capablanca doing?”
But the reporter didn’t know exactly. “Please run, find out,” Olga told him. According to her
recollection (Town & Country, February 1945, page 136), he returned in a few seconds. “Not
doing so well,” he said concernedly. Olga moved to the hall and looked for Capablanca, whose
face was congested. But here Capablanca found the best move of the last years of his career:
31. f3! If 31. Kh3 Bf5+ 32. Kg2 Bd7 33. Kh1 (if 33. f4 Rb8 34. Q×b8 Q×d5+ 35. Kf1 Q×d2
winning) 33. ... Rb8 34. Q×b8 Q×f2 winning. 31. ... B×f3+ 32. Kh3 B×d5 33. Q×f7+
R×f7 34. Rgf1 Be6+ 35. Kg2 Bf5 Better is 35. ... Ra7 36. Rf8 Kg7 37. Rd8 Bd5+ 38. Kg1
Kf6 39. Re1 Kf5 and Black is better. 36. a6! Be4+ 37. Kh3 Rg7 38. Rb6 Bf5+ (see diagram)
The game was suspended in this position. Capablanca led
Olga to the restaurant but he did not want to eat anything. Seeing wDwDwDwD
him saddened she replied: “You are not going to lose it! You can DwDwDw4k
win it!” He looked at her and told her disgustedly, forgetting that P$w0wDp0
she knew nothing about chess: “How on earth could I win.” And Dw0wgbDw
he began to explain the technical impossibility that such a thing wDwDwDw)
happened. He stopped in his comments when he understood the DwDwDwDK
situation and added in a softer tone: “You see what you do by
wDwGwDwD
DwDwDRDw
being so silly; I forget what I’m saying.” But Olga did not lose
her hopes that something extraordinary would happen. She told After 38. … Bf5+
him, “You can win this game just the same. The second move after
lunch Bogoljubow will make a mistake. You can win.” She wrongly thought that Capa won
this game. When the game resumed Capablanca made his sealed move: 39. Kg2 Then fol-
lowed 39. … Be4+ Or 39. ... Bd3 40. Rc1 Ra7 41. Bc3 B×c3 42. R×c3 B×a6 43. R×d6 c4 with
an even endgame. 40. Kh3 Re7 If 40. ... c4 41. Re1 Bf3 42. R×e5 d×e5 43. Bc3 Re7 44. Kg3
Bh1 45. Rb5 Ra7 46. Ra5 g5 47. h×g5 h×g5 48. B×e5 and draw. 41. Bf4 Rf7 42. B×e5 R×f1
43. B×d6 Rf3+ If 43. ... c4 44. Rb7+ Kg8 45. Re7 Bd5 46. a7 g5 47. h×g5 h×g5 48. Re5
Ra1 49. Bc5 Bh1 and draw. 44. Kh2 g5 45. h×g5 h×g5 46. B×c5 Draw. ½–½.
As Botvinnik also drew with Winter, the final positions were: 1–2. Capablanca and
Botvinnik, 10 points; 3–5. Fine, Reshevsky and Euwe, 9½; 6. Alekhine 9; 7–8. Flohr and
Lasker 8½; 9. Vidmar 6; 10–11. Tartakower and Bogoljubow 5½; 12. Tylor 4½; 13. Alexan-
der 3½; 14. Thomas 3; 15. Winter 2½. That evening after the awards, Capablanca and Olga
sat down to play bridge with other tournament participants. The co-winner of the compe-
tition ordered a bottle of champagne and whispered in her ear: “We are rich for a while, ma
chérie. The first prize was quite good, even divided. I can permit myself this little gesture.”17
Nottingham was a great triumph for Capablanca. The memorable year 1936 witnessed
Opposite: Princess Olga Chagodaef, from the Russian region of the Caucasus, infused new energy
into Capablanca’s life after they met in 1934. On October 20, 1938, they married in the small
town of Elkton, Maryland, known then as “the Wedding Capital of the United States.” This wed-
ding photograph was part of the archive of the Buenos Aires newspaper Crítica and probably
was published sometime in January 1939 (courtesy of Juan Morgado from the Archivo General
de la Nación Argentina).
two of his most important victories, particularly in Moscow, in which he finished unbeaten
in a stellar tournament. In total, in 1936 the Cuban played 41 tournament games, winning
20, losing 1 and drawing 20, for an average of 73.17 percent. As some commentators at the
time noted, Capablanca played with great self-assurance and a renewed energy because
Alekhine did not have the crown, and the Cuban was confident that with Euwe as the new
world monarch, the way was cleared for a match for the world championship. The sum of
these factors, plus the close presence of Olga, who undoubtedly instilled energy in his life,
were crucial for a year so important in his career, despite his growing health problems. On
November 25, the two boarded at Southampton the transatlantic Champlain heading to
New York, where they arrived on December 2.18
Once again Capablanca was at the peak of the Chess Olympus.
17. The Silent Killer
In his later years Capablanca’s mind became more and more blurred.
It was a condition that worsened as he aged. Such episodes had been recognizable since
he was a young man, but instead of being interpreted as signs of his chronic health problems
they were explained as results of his chess failures. His illness was palpable for him in his
match against Alekhine in 1927. In Carlsbad 1929, he already had to go to a doctor. In Not-
tingham 1936, despite winning the tournament, he confessed that the positions were “erased
from his brain like a sponge.” In Semmering-Baden 1937, the headaches were unbearable
after three hours of play. In the Netherlands 1938, he participated at the risk of his life.
In New York, on December 13, 1936, Capablanca discovered that not only Moscow
and Leningrad chess amateurs were already achieving positive results while playing against
him. That day, in a simultaneous display at the Manhattan Chess Club, he faced three teams
of three consulting players and could not beat any of them after seven hours of play. “Capa-
blanca was defeated by the team at Board No. 1 captained by Harold M. Phillips, president
of the club, who had as consultants Albert C. Simonson, runner-up in the United States
Championship, and James R. Newman” (New York Times, December 14, 1936). In the games
against the other two teams, which included well-known figures such as Arnold S. Denker
(who would become U.S. champion), Leonard B. Meyer, Oscar Tenner, and D. MacMurray,
he only managed to achieve 2 draws.
Capablanca departed on December 23 for Cuba on the ship Oriente, arriving at the
island three days later. In Havana he once more lodged at the Hotel Packard, although he
had been seen in New York accompanied by Gloria and their two children during the fifth
round of the Manhattan Chess Club championship. This can be explained by the fact that
his son Tuto, who was about to turn 13, was attending high school in New Rochelle, and
Gloria traveled from Cuba to escort him on his return trip, or to try for a reconciliation.
For Capablanca, this separation was on its way to becoming permanent, now that Olga’s
presence was gaining preeminence in his life. Not only was she with him at Nottingham,
but also in July of 1936 at the Czech city of Poděbrady while a chess tournament was played
there, although Capablanca did not participate. But, as he wrote in his last account about
the 1936 Moscow tournament for the Soviet magazine 64, he traveled to the city of Carlsbad
(now Karlovy Vary) to rest. That is the reason why, as Olga said, they met at Poděbrady after
the Moscow event.
It was in Poděbrady that an incident took place, later related by Olga: Alekhine had
approached her while she was speaking with the Swedish master Gideon Ståhlberg. Upon
Ståhlberg’s departure, Alekhine complained about Capablanca’s not greeting him in public,
433
a behavior everybody was keenly aware of. Olga responded that it was perhaps due to the
fact that he kept refusing Capablanca a return match, and asked him if he was afraid of
playing such a match. According to her, Alekhine made his excuses and left, and they never
spoke again. At the time, of course, Alekhine was not the champion.
While in Havana, Capablanca’s health was still frail. In a letter to the Cuban secretary
of state in early 1937, Capablanca explained that he was indisposed and requested a leave of
absence that would allow him to finish a medical treatment he was undergoing at the
moment.
[Hotel Packard letterhead]
Havana, January 9, 1937.
Mr. Secretary,
I have the honor to acknowledge receipt of your January 4 courteous communication instruct-
ing all Foreign Service officials to assume their posts.
I am taking the liberty to point out that I only just arrived in Havana on December 26, 1936,
and that being sick, and after the necessary consultations, I am undergoing a medical treatment
that I could not possibly follow while traveling.
Therefore, I ask of you that, if you deem it appropriate, you give me your permission to stay in
Cuba for a prudential lapse of time so I can regain my health.
You have the renewed assurances, Mr. Secretary, of my highest regard.
J.R. Capablanca
Commercial Attaché in Europe
To: General Rafael Montalvo.
Secretary of State.
City.1
The fact of not feeling well probably weighed in Capablanca’s decision not to participate
in the Margate tournament of that year, to which Alekhine was also invited and finished in
third place, 1½ points behind Fine and Keres, who tied at the top. The invitation to Capa-
blanca was published in the New York Times, January 31, 1937. Despite his illness, Capa-
blanca’s presence was noted at the spring training camp of the New York Giants baseball
game in Havana: “Among the afternoon’s distinguished visitors to the game was José R.
Capablanca, Cuba’s famous chess master who, unusual as it may seem, understands baseball
as thoroughly as he does the maneuvers on the chess board. A quarter of century ago Capa-
blanca played ball himself while attending Columbia University and later became a great
friend of John McGraw.”2
Capablanca also traveled briefly by air to Miami, where he offered a simultaneous display
against 22 players at the Biltmore Hotel on March 29, in which he won 21 and lost 1. The
press note about this exhibition also said that the Cuban champion organized a game with
live pieces, also called human chess, but without more details. Upon his return to Havana,
Capablanca inaugurated on April 1 the municipal chess tournament in that city. On April
17, he offered at the Asturian Center his biggest exhibition in Cuba—against 350 adversaries,
divided into consulting teams of five persons each, a total of 70 boards. Such a show seemed
excessively straining for his health, but in matters of this nature Capablanca lacked the intu-
ition he so abundantly had for chess, where he smelled the danger from afar. During more
than 12 hours—from Saturday, April 17, at 3:30 p.m. until Sunday, April 18, at 5:15 a.m.—
he faced the combined forces of his opponents. In the end, he won 50 games, lost 6 and
drew 14. That was his only simultaneous display at the time in Cuba.
The summer of 1937 was one of the few that Capablanca spent in Cuba, for he preferred
to stay on the island during the winter months. But this summer sojourn was not due to the
cumbersome matters of the state budget. This time it was more serious. After Capablanca
left for New York the night of Thursday, August 19, on board the liner Oriente, Evelio
Bermúdez’s chess column in Diario de la Marina (August 25, 1937) caused alarm among his
friends and fans of the game: “In delicate health a famous Cuban, full of glory, leaves his
homeland. Shortly after the unforgettable exhibition he gave at the Asturian Center, he
became ill and, when we sailed, he had not achieved a much-needed recovery. Much
aggrieved, we saw him depart in bad health and, naturally, disgruntled by the delay with
which certain problems are being resolved.” Bermúdez added that this was the first time
Capablanca was ill, which was not factual. But he was correct when he wrote “we are wor-
ried.”
Upon arriving in New York, Capablanca did not mention his indisposition, which
apparently went unnoticed. For instance, the Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported that the Cuban
master was en route to Europe to compete at the Semmering Baden tournament, near Vienna,
and added that the competition had been postponed to a later date as a courtesy to the
former champion. Capablanca’s participation in the tournament had been doubtful until
his arrival.3 Despite his ill health, Capablanca knew that he could not stay away from Europe
for so long. It was there, at the time, where the only international tournaments that were
truly worthwhile were held, and where the matters related to the world championship were
discussed. The Semmering Baden competition was one that he considered he could not
afford to pass up.4
When Capablanca arrived in the Austrian spa, his mind was burdened by the results
of the annual meeting of FIDE, which had been held in Stockholm during August 12–14.
At that meeting, the delegates voted Flohr as the official challenger for the chess crown in
1940, despite the fact that the commission of masters, including Alekhine, which FIDE
has appointed to suggest the worthiest challenger, had chosen Capablanca over Botvinnik
or Flohr. Even Alekhine himself was incensed by the decision. The October 1937 issue of
Chess magazine reproduced his comments, originally published by Czech magazine Šachový
Týden:
Everything about this decision is incomprehensible and astonishing, particularly the haste dis-
played. They might have awaited the result of my match against Euwe, on which so much
depends! The haste was all the more superfluous as the Flohr match is fixed for 1940. Are no
changes going to take place for the next three years? Furthermore, if the whole thing is a ques-
tion of adding up the successes of individual candidates, why was it necessary for the FIDE to set
up a special commission to make out a list of candidates in order of precedence? I was a member
of that commission which made out a list of candidates—mainly on the basis of the last known
results—and in it Capablanca came first, Botvinnik second.…
Other outstanding players, such as Fine, Tartakower, and Znosko-Borovsky, sharply

criticized FIDE’s decision. Fine accused Rueb of setting himself up as a dictator. The harshest
comments came from the British magazine Chess: “The FIDE has shown itself, at Stockholm,
supremely unfit for the task. It has shown already more bias, stupidity and incompetence
than any world champion ever did.” The publishers of Chess went so far as to call for Rueb’s
immediate expulsion. At least Capablanca had the consolation of knowing that Euwe had
stated his intention of playing a match against him in 1938 or 1939 in which the crown
would not be at stake. Euwe added that, in the eventuality that he lost his match against
Capablanca, he would cede him his rights to face Flohr. Of course, all of this depended on
Euwe’s retaining his crown against Alekhine at the end of the year.5
Such circumstances hardly foreboded that Capablanca would be in a suitable mental
shape for the Semmering Baden competition. Although, as he had said, he had trained himself
to forget the bad times when at the chessboard, his mind did not respond equally well to
other conflicts such as the decision of the FIDE against him barely three weeks before the
start of the tournament. The Austrian event was the first sign that the health status of Capa-
blanca would not allow him to achieve the great triumphs of earlier days. Never before in
his career had he had so many games that could have been decided in his favor with just one
move. One such mistake occurred in the opening day against Reuben Fine.
Capablanca–Reuben Fine [D19]

1st Round, Semmering Baden, 8 September 1937
1. d4 d5 2. c4 c6 3. Nf3 Nf6 4. Nc3 d×c4 5. a4 Bf5 6. e3 e6 7. B×c4 Bb4 8. 0–0
0–0 9. Qe2 Bg4 10. Rd1 Qe7 11. h3 Bh5 12. e4 Nbd7 13. e5 Nd5 14. Ne4 f6 15. e×f6 g×f6
16. Ng3 Bf7 17. Bh6 Rfe8 18. Ne1 Kh8 19. Nd3 Bd6 20. Qf3 Rg8 21. Nf4 N×f4 22. B×f4
B×f4 23. Q×f4 Nb6 24. Bb3 Rad8 25. Re1 Nd5 26. Qh4 Bg6 27. Ne4 f5 28. Q×e7 N×e7
29. Nc5 R×d4 30. R×e6 Nd5 31. N×b7 Bh5 32. B×d5 R×d5 33. Nd6 Rb8 34. Rc1 Rd1+
35. R×d1 B×d1 36. Re7 B×a4 (see diagram)
37. R×a7 Better is 37. N×f5 a5 (if 37. … Bc2 38. Nd6 R×b2
w4wDwDwi 39. R×a7 Rb1+ 40. Kh2 Rd1 41. Nc4 Be4 42. f3 Rd4 43. Ne5
0wDw$wDp Bd5 44. Rc7 Rd2 45. Kg3 Re2 46. N×c6 winning) 38. Re2 with
wDpHwDwD advantage. 37. … Bc2 38. Rc7 Better is 38. Rb7 Ra8 (if 38. …
DwDwDpDw R×b7 39. N×b7 winning) 39. b4 with a winning position. For
bDwDwDwD example: 39. … Bd3 40. Kh2 f4 41. Nf7+ Kg8 42. Nh6+ Kh8
DwDwDwDP 43. Rd7 Bc2 44. Nf7+ Kg8 45. Rd8+ R×d8 46. N×d8 Be4
w)wDw)PD 47. Ne6 f3 48. g4 winning. 38. … R×b2 39. R×c6 Kg7 40. Nc4
DwDwDwIw Ra2 41. Ne3 Be4 42. Re6 Kf7 43. Re5 Kf6 44. Rb5 Ra6
After 36. … B×a4 45. Kh2 Ra2 46. Kg3 Better is 46. f3 Bd3 47. Rb3 Rd2 (if 47. …
Be2 48. Nd5+ Ke5 49. Nc3 Rd2 50. N×e2 R×e2 51. Rb7 win-
ning; If 47. … Ba6 48. Rb4 Ke5 49. f4+ Kf6 50. Rb6+ winning) 48. Rb4 Ra2 49. Nd5+ Ke5
50. Nf4 Ba6 51. Kg3 with a much better position. 46. … Ra4 47. Kh2 Rd4 48. f3 Bd3
49. Ra5 Ke6 50. g3 Be2 51. f4 Bd3 52. Re5+ Kf6 53. Nd5+ Kf7 54. g4 f×g4 55. h×g4
Bc4 56. Rf5+ Kg7 57. Ne3 Re4 58. Rg5+ Kf6 59. Rf5+ Kg7 60. Ng2 Rd4 61. Ne1 Rd5!
With an even endgame. 62. R×d5 B×d5 63. Kg3 Kf6 64. Nf3 Be4 65. Ne5 Bc2 66. Kh4
h6 67. Nd7+ Kg7 68. f5 Ba4 69. Nc5 Bd1 70. Kg3 Kf7 71. Kf4 Be2 72. Ne4 Bd1 73. Nc3
Bb3 74. Ke5 Bc4 Draw. ½–½.
The next day, Capablanca played against the Latvian Vladimir Petrov, who shortly
before the tournament of Semmering Baden had been diagnosed with tuberculosis. Petrov
later died in 1943, a victim of Stalinism in one of the prison camps in Siberia. In the Buenos
Aires journal Crítica (September 7, 1939) Capablanca described Petrov as a “young player
of excellent qualities, in my opinion far superior to his reputation.” In his game against Petrov
in the second round, Capablanca lost an opportunity to decide the struggle at the start of
the game.
Vladimir Petrov–Capablanca [D17]

2nd Round, Semmering Baden, 9 September 1937
1. d4 d5 2. c4 c6 3. Nf3 Nf6 4. Nc3 d×c4 5. a4 Bf5 6. Ne5 Nbd7 7. N×c4 Qc7 8. Qb3
e5 9. d×e5 Nc5 10. Qa2 Na6 11. e4 N×e4 12. N×e4 B×e4 13. Nd6+ B×d6 14. e×d6 Q×d6
15. B×a6 (see diagram)
15. … b×a6 Better is 15. … B×g2 16. Rg1 (if 16. B×b7 Rd8 rDwDkDw4
17. Qb3 0–0 18. B×c6 Q×c6 19. Rg1 Rfe8+ with a winning posi- 0pDwDp0p
tion) 16. … Q×h2 17. R×g2 Q×g2 18. Bf1 Qg6 19. Be3 0–0–0 BDp1wDwD
with a winning position. 16. 0–0 0–0 17. Qa3 Qg6 18. f3 Bd5 DwDwDwDw
19. Bf4 Rfe8 20. Rfe1 h6 Interesting is 20. … h5 21. Bg3 Qc2 PDwDbDwD
22. Qb4 a5 23. Qd4 Qb3 with a little advantage for Black. 21. a5
DwDwDwDw
Q)wDw)P)
Rad8 If now 21. … h5 22. Bg3 Qc2 23. Qb4 Rad8 24. R×e8+
$wGwIwDR
R×e8 25. Re1 with an even game. 22. Qc3 Kh7 23. Bg3 R×e1+
24. R×e1 Rd7 25. b4 Draw. ½–½. After 15. B×a6
Against Reshevsky (White) in the fourth round, Capablanca made a mistake at move
18, when he had another possibility that would have given him the best position. Later in
the game the Cuban did not want to undertake any moves that might be risky, despite having
a slight advantage in the middle game with two bishops against two knights, and in addition
to the fact that the position of his opponent’s king could be compromised; the game ended
in a draw.
Much more disheartening was the game against the Soviet Vyacheslav Ragozin in the
fifth round:
Capablanca–Vyacheslav V. Ragozin [D64]

5th Round, Semmering Baden, 14 September 1937
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 0–0 6. Nf3 Nbd7 7. Rc1 c6 8. Qc2 a6
9. a3 b5 10. c5 Nh5 11. h4 f5 12. Bd3 Nhf6 13. Ne2 Qe8 14. Bf4 Ne4 15. Ne5 N×e5
16. B×e5 Qg6 17. Nf4 Qh6 18. B×e4 f×e4 19. Ke2 g6 20. g4 B×h4 21. g5 Q×g5 22. Rcg1
R×f4 23. e×f4 Qd8 24. f3 Bf6 25. f×e4 Ra7 26. Ke3 Rg7 27. Qh2 B×e5 28. f×e5 Qe7
29. Qh6 Bd7 30. Rf1 d×e4 31. Rf6 Be8 32. Rhf1 Bf7 33. Qf4 Qd7 34. Q×e4 h5 35. R×f7
R×f7 36. Q×g6+ Rg7 37. Q×h5 Rg3+ (see diagram)
38. Kf2 Decisive would have been 38. Ke2 Rg2+ 39. Ke1 wDwDwDkD
Rg7 40. Rh1 Rh7 41. Qg6+ Kh8 42. Rf1 Qe7 43. Rf6 a5 44. Qg2 DwDqDwDw
Qg7 45. Q×g7+ K×g7 46. R×e6 Rh4 47. R×c6 Re4+ 48. Kf1 pDpDpDwD
R×d4 49. Rb6 a4 50. R×b5 Rd5 51. Ke2 Kf7 52. Ra5 Ke6 Dp)w)wDQ
53. R×a4 R×c5 54. Kd3 K×e5 55. Rh4 winning. 38. … Rg7 wDw)wDwD
39. Ke1 Better is 39. Ke3 Rg3+ 40. Ke2 Rg2+ 41. Ke1 Rg7 )wDwIw4w
42. Rh1 Rh7 43. Qg5+ Kh8 44. Rg1 Rg7 45. Qh6+ Kg8 w)wDwDwD
46. R×g7+ Q×g7 47. Q×e6+ winning. 39. … Qd8 40. Rf6? Bet- DwDwDRDw
ter is 40. Rh1 Qe7 (if 40. … Q×d4 41. Qe8 mate; if 40. … Rd7 After 37. … Rg3
41. Qh8+ Kf7 42. Qh7+ Ke8 43. Qg8+ Ke7 44. Rh7 mate)
41. Qh8+ Kf7 42. Rf1+ Kg6 43. Rg1+ winning. 40. … Q×d4 41. Qe8+ Kh7 42. Qh5+
Draw. ½–½.
The first of his victories in the competition came against Flohr in the sixth round. With
it Capablanca took revenge for his defeat at the hands of the Czechoslovakian master at
Nottingham the year before.
Capablanca–Salomon (Salo) M. Flohr [D93]
6th Round, Semmering Baden, 16 September 1937
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 g6 3. Nc3 d5 4. Nf3 Bg7 5. Qb3 c6 6. Bf4 0–0 7. e3 d×c4 Nowadays
7. … Qa5 or 7. … e6 is preferred. 8. B×c4 Nbd7 9. 0–0 Nb6 10. Be2 Be6 11. Qc2 Nbd5 12. Be5
Bf5 13. Qb3 Qb6 14. Nd2 Q×b3 15. N×b3 Rad8 16. Bf3 Bc8 Better is 16. … b6 with an even
game. 17. Na5 e6 If 17. … N×c3 18. b×c3 Nd5 19. B×g7 K×g7 20. c4 and White is better. 18. a3
Nd7? Better is 18. … Rfe8 19. e4 Nd7 20. e×d5 N×e5 21. d×e5
wDb4w4kD e×d5 22. Rad1 B×e5 23. Rfe1 and White is a little better (see
0pDnDpgp diagram)
wDpDpDpD 19. N×d5! e×d5 If 19. … c×d5 20. Bd6 Rfe8 21. Bc7 win-
HwDnGwDw ning. 20. Bc7 With a winning position. 20. … Bf6 21. B×d8
wDw)wDwD B×d8 22. Nb3 Nb6 23. Nd2 Be6 24. Rfc1 Nc8 25. Nb3 Nd6
)wHw)BDw 26. Nc5 Bc8 27. b4 Be7 If 27. … Nc4 28. b5 Bg5 29. b×c6 b×c6
w)wDw)P) 30. Rc3 Be7 31. Be2 with a winning position. 28. Be2 Re8 29. a4
$wDwDRIw
b6 30. Nd3 Nc4 31. b5 Bd7 If 31. … c×b5 32. a×b5 with a win-
After 18. … Nd7 ning position. 32. b×c6 B×c6 33. Nf4 Black resigned. If 33. …
Na5 34. R×c6! N×c6 35. Bb5 Rc8 36. Rc1 winning. 1–0.
After his victory, Capablanca’s score in the tournament was 3½ points of a possible six,
although it could have been 6 points or at least 5½. The fatigue of the Cuban was noted in
a marked form when he played against the young Estonian Paul Keres in the last game of
the first cycle. Capablanca (Black) had another of his mental lapses that cost him a pawn on
just move 15. The Cuban had to fight from behind until the 56th move to get a draw due
to the opportunities that Keres offered him in the endgame. After several rounds of exhaust-
ing games, Capablanca’s high blood pressure problem reappeared, as it was evident in a ram-
bling letter to Mario Figueredo in Havana.6
Baden bei Wein Gutenbrun A-G
Sept. 20/937
My dear friend
I received your telegram here at Baden bei Wein.
Euwe has promised that if he wins against Alekhine, he will play with me before playing
against Flohr. It will be in August 1939 and probably in Argentina or Uruguay.
Semmering Baden 1937

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
1 Keres, Paul • ½-½ ½-½ 1-0 ½-1 1-0 ½-1 1-1 9
2 Fine, Reuben ½-½ • ½-½ ½-½ ½-½ ½-½ 1-½ 1-½ 8
3 Capablanca, José R. ½-½ ½-½ • ½-½ 1-½ ½-0 ½-1 ½-½ 71⁄2 52.00
4 Reshevsky, Samuel H. 0-1 ½-½ ½-½ • ½-½ 1-1 ½-0 1-0 71⁄2 51.50
5 Flohr, Salo ½-0 ½-½ 0-½ ½-½ • 1-½ ½-½ 1-½ 7
6 Eliskases, Erich G. 0-1 ½-½ ½-1 0-0 0-½ • ½-1 0-½ 6 43.25
7 Ragozin, Vyacheslav ½-0 0-½ ½-0 ½-1 ½-½ ½-0 • 1-½ 6 41.00
8 Petrov, Vladimir 0-0 0-½ ½-½ 0-1 0-½ 1-½ 0-½ • 5
Regarding what to do there, I have to tell you: it would be advisable that it were given to me
3,000 [pesos; more than $50,000 in 2015] to secure the match. If that was necessary, and if not,
for me to spend a couple of months before starting the match preparing mentally and physically
for it and to hire the services of a grandmaster for the studies that can be made about openings.
In the Netherlands, they are paying for the services of several masters to prepare Euwe since six
months ago.
Regards to friends and you know that I really appreciate you, your friend
J.R. Capablanca
P.S. In better health, although my pains have not fully gone. I’ve been drawing when I do not see
things clearly. Against Flohr I tightened his screws [Figueredo-Romero Archives].7
In the second cycle of the tournament, Capablanca suffered his only defeat, against the
Austrian Erich Eliskases (White), in the tenth round. After a long and tenuous defense he
reached a drawn position following a mistake from his opponent. But the Cuban committed
another mistake of his own in move 61 that brought him the defeat. Capablanca won his
second game of the tournament against Ragozin (White) in the twelfth round. The third
place which the Cuban obtained in Semmering Baden, after Keres and Fine, showed that
against young players of such strength his ill health was a serious obstacle. Optimistically,
Capablanca denied it and insisted on the need for official support on the island, now in the
event of a potential match against Euwe. In Semmering Baden, Capablanca, at 48, was by a
wide margin the oldest player. None of the others was 30 or older. Petrov followed in seniority
to the Cuban with 29 years (he turned 30 the last day of the tournament, since he was born
on September 27, 1907). The passage of time also manifested itself in other ways: Of the 14
masters whom Capablanca faced during his international debut in San Sebastián 1911, half
of them had died. Of the remaining, none was still a figure at the first level in chess.
Perhaps the most important occurrence from Semmering Baden was that Capablanca
realized the need for training and updating his theoretical knowledge at the beginning of
the game, as he said in his aforementioned letter to Figueredo. In Cuba a saddened Corzo
wrote after learning the results of Semmering Baden: “The tournament has finished, it is
not time to build illusions. We have to accept the facts.” Capablanca had written previously
to Corzo in the same tone as to Figueredo, telling him his difficulties after a few hours of
play. In Austria, despite his high blood pressure, Capablanca offered three simultaneous
exhibitions with the excellent results of 74 wins and 15 draws, for 80.33 percent. 8
From Vienna, Capablanca traveled to Brussels and thence to Paris, where in January a
small two-cycle tournament was held where his best-known opponents were Znosko-
Borovsky and a player of Ukrainian origin, Nicolas Rossolimo, who was then 27 years old.
Rossolimo would later win the championship of France (1948) and the United States Open
Championship (1955). Capablanca’s game against Rossolimo (Black) in the third round was
the Cuban’s most interesting outing in the event.
Paris 1938
1 2 3 4 5 6
1 Capablanca, J.R. • 1-½ 1-½ ½-1 1-½ 1-1 8
2 Rossolimo, N. 0-½ • 1-1 1-1 ½-1 1-½ 71⁄2
3 Cukierman, J. 0-½ 0-0 • 1-1 ½-1 1-1 6
4 Romi, M. ½-0 0-0 0-0 • ½-1 1-1 4
5 Znosko-Borovsky, E. 0-½ ½-0 ½-0 ½-0 • ½-1 31⁄2
6 Anglares, E. 0-0 0-½ 0-0 0-0 ½-0 • 1
Capablanca–Nicolas S. Rossolimo [D66]

3rd Round, Paris. 7 January 1938
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 d5 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e3 0–0 6. Nf3 Nbd7 7. Rc1 c6 8. Bd3 h6
9. Bh4 d×c4 10. B×c4 b5 11. Bd3 a6 12. a4 b4 13. Ne4 Interesting is 13. B×f6 g×f6 (if 13. …
N×f6 14. Ne4 and White is better) 14. Ne4 f5 15. Ng3 c5 16. e4 c×d4 17. e×f5 e5 18. Rc6
Nf6 19. Qc1 and White is better. Ribli–Hennings, Leipzig 1973. 13. … N×e4 14. B×e7
N×f2 15. B×d8 N×d1 16. K×d1 A new move; the usual continuation had been 16. Be7 Re8
17. K×d1 R×e7 18. R×c6 e5 19. Bf5 g6 20. Bh3 e×d4 21. e×d4 Bb7 22. Rc7 B×f3+ 23. g×f3
Rd8 24. Kd2 Kf8 with an even game. Vidmar–Asztalos, Maribor 1934. 16. … R×d8 17. R×c6
Bb7 18. Rc7 B×f3+ 19. g×f3 Nb6 Better seems 19. … e5 20. Be4
rDwDwDkD Rac8 21. R×c8 R×c8 22. Bb7 Rd8 23. B×a6 e×d4 with an even
DwDwDp0w game. 20. Rc6 N×a4 21. Kc2 Rdb8 22. Ra1 b3+ 23. Kc1 Rb4
B4wDwDw0 24. B×a6 Nb6 Better is 24. … Rb6 25. R×b6 N×b6 26. Ra3 with
Dw$whwDw a small advantage for White. 25. Kd2 e5 Better is 25. … Kf8
wDwDwDwD 26. Ra3 with a small advantage for White. 26. d×e5 Nc4+ Better
DpIw)PDw is 26. … Kf8 But after 27. Ra3 Nd7 28. f4 White is better. 27. Kc3
w)wDwDw) N×e5 28. Rc5 Rb6 (see diagram)
$wDwDwDw 29. Bd3! The hunter is hunted! Black resigned. If 29. … Re8
After 28. … Rb6 30. R×e5 winning. 1–0.
Capablanca won the tournament, but with only half a point over Rossolimo. In Paris,
with Olga, he began planning for his future life in France. The first step was to prepare the
conditions to better perform his functions as a commercial attaché of Cuba in several coun-
tries of the continent. For this purpose, a day before the start of the Paris Tournament, he
requested to have under his command an official with the rank of chancellor of legation, a
separate room, a typewriter, embassy stationery and travel expenses.9
Capablanca’s request shows that the post he held was more than just an honorific title.
This had already been indicated by an older reference to Capablanca as a commercial expert
that appeared in the Morning Oregonian, April 8, 1916: “Trained Diplomats Urged: Cuban
Says American Trade Can Be Extended to South.” According to the newspaper account,
Capablanca spoke at the meeting of the Oregon Civic League in Portland, addressing aspects
of the U.S. economic and diplomatic policy towards South America. There he argued that
the representatives of a government should be persons familiar with the country they rep-
resent and particularly with its industrial life. “With proper representatives the United States
would be able to capture some of the trade of South America.”
It is hardly surprising that Capablanca’s vast network of personal acquaintances helped
him close more than one business deal between Cuba and other countries, or suggest com-
mercial exchanges—as in the letter that he sent to Secretary of State Cosme de la Torriente
in 1934, recommending to him that Cuba should establish diplomatic and commercial rela-
tions with the Soviet Union.10 Unfortunately, Capablanca’s diplomatic records do not include
any correspondence about his personal dealings of this kind. The few stories alluding to his
work as a commercial attaché of Cuba in Europe or in the United States have as their sole
frame of reference the former Soviet Union, thanks to the writings of the Soviet master
Alexander Ilyin-Zhenevsky, or to the interest shown by Havana as well as Moscow for high-
lighting the Soviet connection. Surely there must be, buried in some archive or other, records
documenting his suggestions about opening commercial relations with other countries.
Not only because this was his job, but also, with his enormous popularity, Capablanca had
direct access to figures of politics, finance and commerce, something other Cuban diplomats
lacked.
On February 16, Capablanca left France aboard the Champlain for New York City,
where he arrived on the 23rd. Apparently on that occasion he had the discretion to reserve a
cabin for himself and a separate one for Olga. While in New York, on February 26, Capablanca
asked the Cuban Secretary of State Dr. Juan J. Remos for permission to return to the island
for personal reasons. In Havana, Figueredo and some other friends of his were advancing the
idea of obtaining a line of credit to finance Capablanca’s training for a world championship
match. At the time, Alekhine had regained the title and seemed willing to contend with any-
body who offered him an attractive purse. His return to the throne once more revived interest
in Argentina and Uruguay, nations that wanted to join efforts for hosting the world champi-
onship. Capablanca almost took the matter for granted because of the news that Luis R.
Piazzini, who had spoken to Alekhine in Europe, was sending him from Buenos Aires.
Another matter that Capablanca had to urgently attend to was his divorce. According
to what Olga wrote at a later date, the Cuban master was having difficulties because Gloria
did not want to grant him the official separation. Of course, his personal interest in solving
his legal affairs was not a matter fit to be included in the letter sent to the chief of Cuban
diplomacy when he asked for his permission to travel to Cuba.11
Before departing for Havana, Capablanca offered two simultaneous displays in the
United States. The first was on March 19, at Columbia University against 14 adversaries,
with an outcome of 13 wins and 1 loss. Two days later, at the Union League Club in Philadel-
phia, he won all 24 games. While in New York, Capablanca visited his son Tuto, who since
the previous year had been studying at Mount Saint Michael Academy in the Bronx. Together
they went shopping for clothes on Fifth Avenue, where “my father bought our coats, suits
and shirts, always at the same places,” as Tuto later reminisced (interview with the author,
1975). For him, weekends were his most eagerly awaited moments because then his father
would pick him up and take him to Manhattan.
When Capablanca on April 3 boarded the Oriente, which arrived in Havana three days
later, he considered that his divorce would take a few days. But it was not until the middle
of July that his marriage to Gloria was legally dissolved.12 Before Capablanca’s arrival in
Havana, a resolution to grant him 5,000 pesos (more than $85,000 in 2015) for expenses in
the preparation of the world chess championship was winding through the Cuban Congress.
Corzo (Carteles, March 13, 1938) wrote about it with optimism. Around those days, Argen-
tinian Master Roberto Grau wrote in Leoplán magazine (March 10, 1938) that a new attempt
to organize a world championship match between Alekhine and Capablanca seemed doomed
to failure, since the Cuban master rejected any reduction of his part of the purse. When
Corzo asked Capablanca to clarify the subject, he answered that there was a lack of equity
among those called to act as mediators between the two of them. Capablanca’s explanation
was that he had been asked to accept a lower remuneration whether he won or lost, to com-
pensate for Alekhine’s demand of being paid in “gold dollars.” Capablanca’s response was
that he would play under the condition that the entire purse would go to the winner. This
had the advantage of coming close to the $17,000 ($290,000) that Alekhine considered as
the value in gold of the $10,000 (about $171,000) played for in Buenos Aires in 1927. In
summary, the return match negotiations had once more arrived at a standstill.
It was during that seven-month stay in Cuba that Capablanca gave the second largest
number of exhibits in his own land surpassed only by the tour of 1912. One of them benefited
the Havana Chess Club. The proceeds of the simultaneous display of Saturday, May 7, in
Havana against 30 chessboards, with three consulting opponents at each, 5 pesos (nearly
$84 in 2015) each table, went to swell the coffers of the historic Havana club. That day,
Capablanca defeated 22 opponents, lost against 2 and drew against 6. On June 5, Capablanca
traveled to the city of Cárdenas, around 80 miles east of Havana, which he had already visited
in 1912. There, 25 players, some local and some from neighboring zones (like the city of
Matanzas), lost all their games. In Santiago de las Vegas, a city 12 miles southwest of Havana,
Capablanca faced 20 players on August 6 and lost only one game (to Vitelio Cruz). The
exhibition took place at the Palacio Municipal de Gobierno, where, according to an article
that appeared on Sunday, August 7, in El Mundo, 1,500 people swarmed to the event. After-
ward, he traveled to the city of Santiago de Cuba, about 861 kilometers (506 miles) southeast
of Havana, where on September 10 he faced 34 boards, with an outcome of 30 victories, 1
loss and 3 draws. He took advantage of the opportunity to tour around almost the whole
island by train and road, because he loved driving, and loved doing it fast, according to Olga.
On Saturday, October 1, Capablanca left Havana in a three-vehicle caravan and headed
for the city of Santa Clara, 354 kilometers (162 miles) east of Havana, the very place where
he had lived under such difficult conditions in 1897–1898 during the war for the independ-
ence of Cuba. He was accompanied by his daughter Gloria de los Ángeles, his brother Sal-
vador, and some of his close friends such as the artist Esteban Valderrama, painter of the
most famous portraits of the former world champion, and two future chess champions of
Cuba: Juan González and Rosendo Romero, among others. In Santa Clara, besides his simul-
taneous display against 27 players the day of his arrival, winning all, he gave the following
day a chess lecture at the city’s Sporting Club. The final result of his Cuban tour of five exhi-
bitions was 123 wins, 4 defeats and 9 draws in 136 games.13
A month and a half earlier, on August 14, the Gaceta Oficial de la República de Cuba
(Official Gazette of the Republic of Cuba) published the congressional resolution, approved
by the president on the 13th, to grant him 5,000 pesos to be used for sundry expenses related
to the world chess championship. The last time the Cuban legislative chambers had approved
a similar resolution, in 1929, Machado had vetoed it—perhaps rightly so, given the financial
difficulties of that era in Cuba. This time, circumstances were more favorable:
I, Federico Laredo Bru, President of the Republic of Cuba, certify that Congress has voted and I
have sanctioned the following:
Article 1: A five thousand pesos credit is granted that the executive branch will take from the
remnant of silver minting or of any other treasury fund not appropriated to other obligations,
and that will be put at the disposal of Mr. José Raúl Capablanca, so that he utilizes it for the
security deposit, arrangements, training and other such expenses of the world chess champi-
onship match.
Article 2: The Secretary of the Treasury is responsible for the enforcement of this law in its
entirety. Said law will become effective from the moment of its publication in the Official
Gazette of the Republic, and any laws, decrees and other provisions that preclude its fulfillment
are henceforth revoked. Therefore, I hereby order that the present law be enforced and executed
in its entirety.
Given at the Presidential Palace in Havana, on the 13th day of August, 1938.
Federico Laredo Bru
President14
But it was just a sad joke. Capablanca never received that money, and nobody ever
knew where it ended up, although he requested its disbursement through Figueredo, while
in Cuba as well as after his departure.
Capablanca’s trip to Europe was delayed because the French government rejected Cuba’s
request that he be appointed “commercial attaché”; there was at the Cuban embassy in Paris
another person with the same title already. A letter from the Cuban ambassador in France
to the Cuban secretary of state documented the obstacle. The solution was to request that
Capablanca should be appointed “commercial advisor” (or commercial attaché-at-large),
which France accepted on October 5.
Capablanca later wrote to Figueredo that he would have needed to embark for Europe
much earlier than when he finally did, starting the first leg of the trip from Havana to New
York on October 12, “because nowadays I cannot pull off miracles like I did 20 years ago.”
Besides all these worries about his divorce and the delays of his diplomatic appointment,
other developments also brought stress to his life. One such source of distress was the schism
between two groups inside the Cuban Chess Federation, founded on September 17, 1930,
by José A. Gelabert and Juan Corzo, and which, even before, in 1928, had asked to belong
to FIDE, according to American Chess Bulletin, December 1928.
But apparently both Gelabert and Corzo neglected their duties and the FIDE mem-
bership did not materialize until September 1939, a grave mistake, because they could have,
in association with the Mexican and other American federations, counterbalanced the Euro-
pean ones in matters such as the vote for Flohr. From 1936, the Cuban Chess Federation
was in the hands of José Víctor Regueiro González, although nominally the Cuban Feder-
ation’s presidents were other men, such as Dr. Angel de Albear.15
In 1938, the animosity between Regueiro and Corzo had reached such proportions
that Capablanca decided, together with Corzo, Romero and others, to create a new organ-
ization, the Federación Nacional de Ajedrez (National Chess Federation). A meeting of the
Havana Chess Club was convened for October 8 to ratify the decision of the members to
split from the Cuban Federation and enroll in the National. But, instead of an orderly vote,
the meeting ended in such a brawl that the police were called in. According to Corzo, the
melee was instigated by Regueiro so that they could not follow the democratic process of a
vote. Both Capablanca and Corzo, and also Regueiro and Albear, were present. Some of
them even had to go to the police station to testify about the events.16 In his recollections
for Carteles magazine, Corzo did not mention if Capablanca was one of the persons who
testified at the police station. Most probably Corzo relieved him of that duty.
Regueiro held true control over the Cuban Federation, of which he was general secre-
tary, until sometime after 1959, when he left for Mexico, never to be heard from again.
Although Corzo described him as a mediocre amateur who is trying to set himself up as dic-
tator of Cuban chess, Regueiro was well connected and had great organizational skills.
Thanks to his efforts, Cuba was able to send a team to the 1938 Central American and
Caribbean Games in Panama. He also organized for Francisco Planas, at the Hotel Nacional
on April 6, 1941, an exhibition against 600 consulting players, with the aim of eclipsing the
one held by Capablanca at the same place in 1932.17 This simultaneous display of 1941 was
attended by then President Fulgencio Batista, who had never been present at any of Capa-
blanca’s exhibitions. Regueiro occasionally sent mind-bending notes to the newspapers, as
when he proclaimed in 1939 that Alekhine was visiting Havana especially invited by the
Cuban Chess Federation, when in fact it was just a stopover of a few hours of the ship he
was traveling in; or when he alleged that 1,500 chess fans had welcomed Planas at the remote
and tiny village of Guanes, at the farthest end of the western Pinar del Río province. Regueiro
responded to the creation of the National Federation by divesting both Capablanca and
Corzo of their status as honorary members of the Cuban Federation. Worse, he informed
Alekhine of all these rifts between both groups during the champion’s stopover in Havana
on January 3, 1939, which allegedly gave Alekhine the opportunity to say that nobody wanted
Capablanca, even in his own country.
When, months before Capablanca left Havana on October 12, 1938, for New York
onboard the Oriente, after so many months of fighting in divorce court as well as his rivals
on the national chess scene, he also feared that he would be late for the big tournament spon-
sored by the Netherlands’ Algemene Vereniging Radio Omroep (AVRO), in which he had
agreed to participate without knowing the exact conditions of that competition. Capablanca’s
arrival in New York was highlighted by the New York Times (October 21, 1938, page 20)
together with another piece of news, his marriage to Olga:
PRINCESS CHAGODALF [sic] WED
MARRIED IN ELKTON, MD., TO J OSE
CAPABLANCA , E X-CHESS CHAMPION
ELKTON, Md., Oct. 20 (AP).—Princess Olga Chagodalf [sic] of the Russian house of Chago-
dalf, was married to José R. Capablanca, commercial attaché-at-large in Europe for the Cuban
Government, here today. Eugenio Castillo, Cuban Consul in Baltimore, was best man. The cou-
ple will sail in a week for the Netherlands, where Mr. Capablanca, noted chess player, will partic-
ipate in a championship contest. Mr. Capablanca was chess champion of the world from 1921 to
1927 and has written many books on the game. He has been an official of the Cuban State
Department since 1913.18
Capablanca and Olga married in Elkton, a small town 137 miles south of New York,
notorious for its lax marriage regulations, for which it was known at the time as “The Wed-
ding Capital of the United States.” When bride and groom arrived there in the afternoon
of October 20, 1938, there was no waiting period between the application for the marriage
license and the legal formalization of the union. Once the municipal court had issued the
document, the applicants could walk to one of the chapels aligned one next to the other on
the main street of the village, where the marriage was finalized with no more than a quick
signing. For photographs there was a small park, with flower gardens and a gazebo that still
(2013) exists. Many well-known figures traveled there to marry, despite the fact that beginning
at the end of 1938 a 48-hour delay was established.19
After the ceremony, the newlyweds traveled to Baltimore, where they celebrated by
dining with a select group of friends.20 From there, they returned to New York to finalize
the arrangements for their trip and to send to France the couple’s recently acquired Packard
automobile. Olga insisted that they buy the car instead of a diamond brooch that Capablanca
had reserved for her as a wedding present. At her urging, Capablanca accepted the switch
with pleasure, since one of his favorite pastimes was driving. The prospect of touring the
Loire Valley, with its magnificent chateaus and the beautiful twists and turns of the Loire
River, was extremely tempting. In the end, the car proved to be a bad decision because it
ended up being taken away during the German occupation of France.
Capablanca and Olga left late for the port of Le Havre, France, aboard the Île de France
on October 28, 1938, delayed by the wedding and other personal matters. Reshevsky, for
example, traveled with time enough to acclimatize to Europe, on the Queen Mary on October
Even during his honeymoon days with Olga, Capablanca was concerned about the rift among
Cuban chess supporters. In this letter he asked Rosendo Romero not “to ignore” the affairs of
the Federation and expressed disappointment that only eight players took part in the champi-
onships organized by the group he promoted (author’s collection).
19. Of course, Capablanca could not attend the inaugural ceremony of the AVRO tournament
on November 4, and was represented by the controller, the Polish-Dutch master Salomon
Landau.21 Capablanca’s decision to play in the event occurred despite the dire warning of
Dr. Domingo Gómez Gimeránez,22 who told him in Paris that he should not play because
his blood pressure levels were extremely high. It was he who warned Olga that if Capablanca
played in the AVRO tournament, he could even die.
Capablanca began the tournament with several missed opportunities, as in the second
round, when he faced Alekhine.
Capablanca–Alexander A. Alekhine [E17]

2nd Round, AVRO, The Netherlands, 8 November 1938
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nf3 b6 4. g3 Bb7 5. Bg2 Be7 6. 0–0 0–0 7. Qc2 Be4 8. Qb3
Nc6 9. Be3 d5 10. Nbd2 d×c4 11. Q×c4 Bd5 12. Qc3 h6 13. Rfd1 Rc8 14. Bf4 Qe8 15. a3
Na5 16. b4 Nb7 17. Ne1 B×g2 18. N×g2 c5 19. b×c5 b×c5 20. Qb2 Na5 21. d×c5 R×c5
22. Rab1 Qc6 23. Ne1 Nd5 24. Be5 Nc3 25. B×c3 R×c3
wDwDwDwD 26. Rdc1 Rc8 27. R×c3 Q×c3 28. a4 Q×b2 29. R×b2 Rc1
DwDwDwDk 30. Rb1 Rc3 31. Rb8+ Kh7 32. Rb5 Nc4 33. N×c4 R×c4
wDwDwDw0 34. Rb7 Bf6 35. Nd3 R×a4 36. R×f7 a5 37. Nc5 Ra1+ 38. Kg2
DwDwDw0w a4 39. Ra7 a3 40. N×e6 Bb2 41. Nf4 Bd4 42. Ra4 Bb2 43. e4
RDwDPHwD g5 (see diagram)
0wDwDw)w 44. Ra7+ Better is 44. Nd5 Rd1 45. f4 g×f4 46. g×f4 Rd3
wgwDw)K) 47. Kf2 Kg7 48. Ke2 with advantage for White. 44. … Kg8
4wDwDwDw 45. Nd5 Bd4 46. Ra8+ Kf7 47. Nb4 Rb1 48. Nc2 B×f2. Draw.
After 43. … g5 If 49. R×a3 (if 49. N×a3 Rb2 50. Nc4 Rc2 with an even game)
49. … Bb6 50. Kf3 Rf1+ with an even game. Draw. ½–½.
It was worse in the resumption of the game against Fine in the third round. During the
regular session, the Cuban had found one of the most unusual defense solutions in the history
of the game, when on move 24 he moved his king to f7.
Reuben Fine–Capablanca [C17]

3rd Round, AVRO, The Netherlands, 10 November 1938
1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. e5 c5 5. Bd2 c×d4 6. Nb5 B×d2+ 7. Q×d2 Nc6
8. Nf3 f6 9. Qf4 Nh6 10. Nd6+ Kf8 11. Bb5 Nf7 12. N×f7 K×f7 13. B×c6 b×c6 14. e×f6
g×f6 15. Ne5+ Kg7 16. Qg3+ Kf8 17. N×c6 Qd7 18. N×d4 e5
rDwDwirD 19. Nb3 Qf5 20. Qd3 d4 21. 0–0 Rg8 22. f4 Bb7 23. Rf2 Be4
0wDwDwDp 24. Qd2 (see diagram)
wDwDw0wD 24. … Kf7! 25. Re1 If 25. f×e5 R×g2+ 26. R×g2 B×g2
DwDw0qDw 27. N×d4 (if 27. K×g2 Rg8+ 28. Kh1 Qf3+ and mate; if
wDw0b)wD 27. Q×g2 Rg8 winning) 27. … Q×e5 28. K×g2 Rg8+ 29. Kf1 (if
DNDwDwDw 29. Kf3 Qd5+ 30. Ke3 Rg4 31. Nf3 Qc5+ 32. Kd3 Qc4+ 33. Ke3
P)P!w$P) Qc5+ and draw) 29. … Qe4 30. Rd1 Qh1+ 31. Ke2 Qe4+
$wDwDwIw 32. Kf1 and draw. 25. … Rg4 26. Nc5 B×g2 27. R×g2 Rag8
After 24. Qd2 28. Ree2 If 28. R×g4 Q×g4+ 29. Kf1 Qh3+ winning. 28. …
e×f4 29. Nb7 Qd5 30. R×g4 R×g4+ 31. Rg2 R×g2+ 32. Q×g2 f3 33. Qh3 Qg5+ 34. Qg3
Qc1+ 35. Kf2 Qe3+ 36. Kf1 Qe2+ 37. Kg1 Qd1+ 38. Kf2
Q×c2+ 39. K×f3 Better is 39. Kf1 Qe2+ 40. Kg1 Qe3+ 41. Kf1 wDwDwDwD
Qe2+ and draw. 39. … Qc6+ 40. Ke2 Q×b7 41. b3 Qe4+ 0wDwDkDp
42. Kd2 (see diagram) wDwDw0wD
42. … Qe5 Better is 42. … h5 43. h4 Ke6 44. b4 Kf5 45. a4 DwDwDwDw
Qd5 46. Qf2+ Kg4 with a winning position. 43. Qh3 Qg5+ Bet- wDw0qDwD
ter is 43. … Qe4 44. b4 (if 44. Qd7+ Kg6 45. Q×a7 Qe3+ DPDwDw!w
46. Kd1 Qg1+ 47. Kd2 Q×h2+ 48. Kd3 Qg3+ 49. Kc4 Qc3+ PDwIwDw)
50. Kb5 d3 with a winning position) 44. … Kg6 45. a4 h5 46. Qd3 DwDwDwDw
Kf5 with a much better position for Black. 44. Kd3! Draw. After 42. Kd2
½–½.
Capablanca thought rightly that his endgame against Fine in the tenth round, in Breda,
would be won.
Capablanca–Reuben Fine [E34]

10th Round, AVRO, The Netherlands, 20 November 1938
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. Qc2 d5 5. c×d5 Q×d5 6. Nf3 c5 7. Bd2 B×c3
8. B×c3 Nc6 9. Rd1 0–0 10. e3 b6 11. a3 Bb7 12. d×c5 Q×c5
13. b4 Qh5 14. B×f6 g×f6 15. Rd7 Rac8 16. Qb2 Rfd8 17. R×b7 wDwDwDRD
Ne5 18. Be2 N×f3+ 19. B×f3 Qe5 20. Q×e5 Rc1+ 21. Bd1 DwDwDpDw
Rc×d1+ 22. Ke2 R1d2+ 23. Kf3 f×e5 24. R×a7 e4+ 25. Kg3 wDwDpiwD
Ra2 26. Ra6 Rdd2 27. Rf1 Rdb2 28. R×b6 R×a3 29. b5 Kg7 DwDwDw0w
30. h4 Rab3 31. Kf4 R×b5 32. R×b5 R×b5 33. g4 Rb4 34. Rc1 wDwDpDw)
Rb2 35. Kg3 Kf6 36. Rc4 Ke5 37. Rc8 Kf6 38. Rg8 h6 39. g5+ DwDw)wIw
h×g5 (see diagram) w4wDw)wD
40. R×g5? Correct was 40. h5! Rb1 41. Kg2 g4 42. h6 Rb5 DwDwDwDw
43. h7 winning. 40. … Rb8 41. Kh3 e5 42. Rg1. Draw. ½–½. After 39. … h×g5
“He is no more the Capablanca of old: mistakes, false understanding of the position,
and lack of precision in all games. And however … here and there was the impression that
not all had ended: If another opportunity were provided to him, under favorable conditions,
he would again be able to do everything.” According to Euwe in his book with Prins Ajedrez
Immortal de Capablanca (Buenos Aires, 1959, page 287), against Euwe in the seventh round,
Capablanca obtained his best victory in the tournament.
Capablanca–Machgielis (Max) Euwe [E34]

7th Round, AVRO, The Netherlands, 15 November 1938
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. Qc2 d5 5. c×d5 Q×d5 6. Nf3 c5 Preferred nowadays
is 6. … Qf5 7. Qd1 c5 with a complicated position. 7. Bd2 B×c3 8. B×c3 c×d4 9. N×d4
e5 10. Nf5 Interesting is 10. Nf3 Nc6 11. Rd1 Qc5 12. e3 0–0 13. Be2 Bg4 14. 0–0 Rac8
15. Qb3 Qe7 16. h3 Bh5 17. Qa4 with a little advantage for White. Levenfish–Botvinnik,
Moscow-Leningrad, 1937. 10. … B×f5 11. Q×f5 Nc6 12. e3 0–0 13. Be2 Qe4 14. Qf3 Qc2
AVRO The Netherlands 1938

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
1 Keres, Paul • 1-½ ½-½ ½-½ 1-½ ½-½ 1-½ ½-½ 81⁄2 58.25
2 Fine, Reuben 0-½ • 1-½ 1-0 1-0 1-1 ½-½ 1-½ 81⁄2 56.25
3 Botvinnik, Mikhail ½-½ 0-½ • ½-0 1-½ 1-½ ½-1 ½-½ 71⁄2
4 Euwe, Max ½-½ 0-1 ½-1 • 0-½ 0-½ 0-1 1-½ 7 48.00
5 Reshevsky, Samuel 0-½ 0-1 0-½ 1-½ • ½-½ ½-½ 1-½ 7 46.75
6 Alekhine, Alexander ½-½ 0-0 0-½ 1-½ ½-½ • ½-1 ½-1 7 45.50
7 Capablanca, José Raúl 0-½ ½-½ ½-0 1-0 ½-½ ½-0 • ½-1 6
8 Flohr, Salo ½-½ 0-½ ½-½ 0-½ 0-½ ½-0 ½-0 • 41⁄2
Better seems 14. … Q×f3 15. B×f3 e4 16. B×f6 (if 16. Be2 Nd5 17. Bd2 Rfd8 18. Rc1 Ndb4
19. Rc4 Nd3+ 20. B×d3 R×d3 with an even game) 16. … e×f3 17. Bc3 f×g2 18. Rg1 f6
19. R×g2 Kf7 with an even game. Mengarini–Bisguier, New York 1954. 15. 0–0 Rad8 16. Bb5
Interesting is 16. Ba6 e4 (if 16. … b×a6 17. Q×c6 Nd5 18. Rac1 Qf5 19. Q×a6 N×c3 20. R×c3
Rd2 21. b4 Rfd8 22. h3 and White is better) 17. Qg3 Nh5 18. Qc7 b×a6 19. Q×c6 and
White is better. 16. … Rd5 17. Rac1 Interesting is 17. B×c6 b×c6 18. Rfe1 Rfd8 19. e4 Rd3
20. Rac1 Qa4 21. Qe2 and White is better. 17. … Qe4 Better seems 17. … Qg6 18. Ba4 e4
19. Qe2 Rg5 20. g3 but White is a little better. 18. Qe2 Rd6
wDwDw4kD 19. f3 Qf5 (see diagram)
0pDwDp0p 20. B×c6! R×c6 21. Qb5 Rfc8 22. Q×b7 Qd3 23. e4! Nh5
wDn4whwD If 23. … Qe3+ 24. Kh1 Nh5 25. Q×c8+ R×c8 26. Bd2 winning.
DBDw0qDw 24. g3! But not 24. Kh1 Ng3+ 25. h×g3 Rh6+ 26. Kg1 Qe3+
wDwDwDwD winning. 24. … Qe3+ 25. Kg2 Qg5 26. Kf2 f5 27. e×f5 Q×f5
DwGw)PDw 28. g4 Qf4 29. g×h5 Q×h2+ 30. Ke3 Qf4+ 31. Ke2 Qc4+
P)wDQDP) 32. Ke1 Qd3 If 32. … Qh4+ 33. Rf2 Qh1+ 34. Kd2 winning.
Dw$wDRIw
33. Qb3+ Kh8 34. Rc2 But not 34. Qc2 Qe3+ winning. 34. …
After 19. … Qf5 Rf6 35. Rd2 Qf5 36. Qc2 Qf4 37. Qe4 Qg3+ 38. Rff2 Qg1+
39. Ke2 Rff8 40. h6 Black resigned. 1–0.
The 14-round AVRO tournament was played in 10 different Dutch cities in the fol-
lowing order: round 1 Amsterdam; 2 The Hague; 3 Rotterdam; 4 Groningen; 5 Zwolle; 6
Haarlem; 7 Amsterdam; 8 Utrecht; 9. Arnhem; 10 Breda; 11 Rotterdam; 12 The Hague; 13
Leiden; and 14 Amsterdam. The constant moves from town to town, the lack of proper din-
ner after the rounds, and the ceaseless changes of hotel turned the tournament into what
Alekhine called a “macabre dance.” The AVRO was the only tournament of his life in which
Capablanca lost more than three games and came in below fourth place. This time, unlike
the competition in Moscow in 1935, where the distance between the first and his fourth
place was just one point, a total of 2½ points separated him from the AVRO’s winners: Keres
and Fine. It was also the first and only time Capablanca did not reach 50 percent of effec-
tiveness. His two wins over Euwe and Flohr did not match his defeats against Keres, Botvin-
nik, Euwe and Alekhine, the latter on the day in which Capablanca turned 50 years old.
A significant fact about the competition was the order of placement, in rigorous reverse
to the date of birth of each participant, with the exception of Flohr, who, being one of
the youngest, finished last. This probably was because he was troubled by the Nazi occupation
of the Sudetenland of Czechoslovakia just four weeks before the tournament. Capablanca’s
failure was a very hard blow. “I never saw him as downhearted as after Amsterdam,” Botvinnik
said years later. It is very likely that Capablanca suffered an ischemia attack during
the tournament, which appears from his and Olga’s stories, according to which her husband
nearly fainted the day of his game against Botvinnik in the second cycle. In a letter to
Figueredo on December 23 of that year, Capablanca wrote in part:
Don’t be surprised that I have not written you earlier more than a few lines; the reason is simple,
apart from being very busy and not in very good health, I was sure that there was nothing to
expect from Cuba. It has been already seven weeks since I left and I think that the same thing
will happen within a year….
You see, I was correct on wanting to leave Cuba 5 or 6 weeks before. I cannot do the miracles
of 20 years ago anymore. I’ve had at least five winning games that I drew because after 4 hours of
play I couldn’t cope with my soul, and with these beasts any small mistake ruins the game….
The year 1938 has been so bad and unpleasant for me that I want it to pass. However, I am
optimistic for 1939. I am trying to organize a short match against one of the top players in order
to show who is who. Apart from all this, tomorrow I will see doctor Gómez to undergo a general
analysis and if there is something wrong, to fix it [Figueredo-Romero Archives].
The colloquial language used by the Cuban is amusing. When writing about the super
new masters, as Keres, Fine or Reshevsky, he describes them as “bestias,” slang utilized in a
very informal way by people in Cuba, instead of “strong.” Qualifying a chess master as a
“beast” (bestia) in the context of the letter was a sign of the upmost respect for his talent.
When less than a year later the Buenos Aires magazine El Gráfico (September 15, 1939) asked
him about his poor results in the Netherlands tournament, Capablanca responded: “I played
in completely abnormal physical conditions. Although I am not aware of the chess literature,
I developed well all my games. But after the first three hours of play, I felt my head was a
drum. It was impossible for me to think and coordinate ideas…. But at the moment of trans-
forming my advantage into a triumph, I perceived that my head was not marching and I was
no longer playing with my brain, but with my hands.”
Once more Capablanca committed another grave error there which, as we have already
mentioned, was harmful rather than beneficial to him: “Despite the sharp cold splitting the
Dutch November, I plunged my congested head in ice water to clear my head.” In the same
long interview he explained further: “If this intellectual impotence had derived from a brain
failure, I would have retired from the chessboard. Capablanca would have said goodbye to
the game in which he was champion and to the scepter which he aspires to regain. But the
brain, fortunately, still works. My mental absences were due to a very high blood pressure
and related circulatory disorders that do not tarnish the clarity of judgment.”23
It was clear that Capablanca did not understand the gravity of his poor health.
18. His Last Bow
Europe was again on the brink of war.

In April 1939, Capablanca thought much of the rest of his life would be in France, so
he asked again for better working conditions to occupy his post of commercial counselor.1
But his reading of the political situation in Europe was wrong. Adolf Hitler had already
annexed Austria and on April 15 a large part of Czechoslovakia, while his claims about the
Polish city of Gdansk were growing by day. This would be one of the pretexts for the German
invasion of Poland on September 1, 1939, which triggered the Second World War. In Havana,
meanwhile, a decision was finally approved to send a delegation to the Buenos Aires Tour-
nament of Nations. On April 23, 1939, an agreement on how to form the Cuban team was
reached; Capablanca was awarded the captaincy as well as its technical management. Corzo
wrote at that time: “Cuban chess authorities must maintain cordial relations with Capa-
blanca, our undisputed national glory. To follow the opposite path, pretending to fight,
reduce or ignore him, is not only inconvenient and unfair, it is suicidal.” 2 In response,
Regueiro said that both he and the Cuban Chess Federation respected and admired Capa-
blanca. As a matter of fact, the Cuban Federation organized national acts for his 50th birth-
day in November 1938. Now, so many years later, it is difficult to draw a clear conclusion
about the reason for the division among Cuban chess directors, and in particular the ani-
mosity between Corzo and Regueiro, which it seems was the trigger for the conflict.
In the Margate tournament April 12–21, 1939, Capablanca met with his old rival of
twenty years, Sir George Thomas, as well as Keres and Flohr of the new generation. Also
present was Polish Moshe Najdorf, with whom the Cuban made a great friendship. Najdorf
was trying to get a visa to travel to America, so Capablanca asked Figueredo by letter to arrange
for the secretary of state to issue a permit of entry to Cuba. Capablanca commended Najdorf
and told Figueredo how beneficial his presence on the island would be for Cuban chess.3
Capablanca finished the tournament unbeaten, but he could not quite match the way
in which Keres got rid of those classified last in the final standings, with five victories over
them. The Cuban scored four points against the same players. The game against Najdorf
was Capablanca’s most exciting in the competition.
Capablanca–Moishe (Miguel) Najdorf [E34]

3rd Round, Margate, 14 April 1939
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. Qc2 d5 5. c×d5 Q×d5 6. Nf3 c5 Preferred nowadays
is 6. … Qf5 with a complicated position. 7. Bd2 B×c3 8. B×c3 Nc6 9. Rd1 0–0 10. a3 c×d4
450
11. N×d4 N×d4 12. R×d4 Qc6 13. e4 e5 Better seems 13. … b6 14. Rc4 Qd7 15. B×f6 g×f6
16. Rc7 Qd6 17. Be2 Bd7 18. Rc3 Rac8 with an even game. 14. Rc4 Qe6 15. Rc5 Nd7 16. Rd5
Qg6 17. f3 Nb6 If 17. … a6 18. Qd2 Qe6 19. Be2 and White is
better. 18. R×e5 Be6 19. f4 Qh6 20. g3 Nd7 21. Rb5 b6 22. Be2 rDwDw4kD
Nc5 (see diagram) 0wDwDp0p
23. b4 a6 24. R×b6 Bb3 25. R×h6 B×c2 26. Rh5 N×e4 w0wDbDw1
27. Ba1 f5 28. 0–0 Better is 28. Bc4+ Kh8 29. 0–0 Nd2 30. Rf2 DRhwDwDw
Rfd8 31. Be6 Ra7 32. B×f5 B×f5 33. R×f5 with a winning posi- wDwDP)wD
tion. 28. … Nd2 29. Rf2 Rfc8 30. Bd4 g6 31. Rh4 Ne4 32. g4 )wGwDw)w
Better is 32. Rf1 Ba4 33. Re1 Rc6 34. Bf3 with a little advantage
w)QDBDw)
DwDwIwDR
for White. 32. … N×f2 33. K×f2 a5 Better seems 33. … f×g4
34. B×g4 Re8 and Black is a little better. 34. Bc5 Interesting is After 22. … Nc5
34. Bf3 Be4 35. g×f5 g×f5 36. B×e4 f×e4 37. b5 with an even
position. 34. … a×b4 35. a×b4 Bb3 36. g×f5 Ra2! 37. f×g6 h×g6 38. Rh3 Bc4 39. Re3
Kf7 Interesting is 39. … Rca8 40. h4 B×e2 41. R×e2 R×e2+ 42. K×e2 Ra3 and Black is a
little better. 40. Kf3 B×e2+ 41. R×e2 R×e2 42. K×e2 Ke6 43. Kf3 Kf5 44. Ke3 Rh8
45. Kd4 R×h2 Interesting is 45. … Ke6 and Black is better. 46. Kd5! Draw. ½–½.
Some 27 years later, Najdorf would remember the incidents both on the board and
inside his head:
Vain and proud as I was, I thought I had “made it” as a chess player because I had a chance to do
battle with an acknowledged chess genius. Under the sway of my emotions, I came out with my
prepared opening; Capablanca meanwhile was totally relaxed. Two very pretty women were fol-
lowing his actions as if mesmerized. Without ever taking his eyes off them for long, he built up a
commanding initiative. My position went steadily downhill, and the most galling thing for me
was the sense of being disdained and made a fool of. In my desperation I tried reminding myself:
“Being beaten by Capablanca isn’t a calamity. It’s an honor just to have sat opposite him at a
chessboard.” Yet I couldn’t shake off the feeling of humiliation. “To hell with chess,” I thought.
“I’m going to devote myself to other things. I’m going to invent a new game.” With my head
spinning, I set a trap, and Capablanca, true to his usual practice, made his reply without think-
ing for very long. Luckily for me it was an oversight, and he was soon forced to give up some
material. Immediately he offered a draw. I refused.4
What does not seem to correspond with the time is the presence of the two ladies who
followed the actions of Capablanca as though hypnotized, since Olga accompanied him to this
competition. Perhaps she was one of those beautiful women to whom Najdorf was referring.
On April 30, returning from Margate, Capablanca sent a telegram to Jaime Mariné,
Cuban sports director, from France saying: “I will be happy to captain the team and play on
Board 1.” This at least would end the issue highlighted by Regueiro in an article published
on April 12 in Havana with the title “Capablanca and Us,” which stated that Capablanca did
not actually want to participate in the Buenos Aires Tournament of the Nations if at the end
of it the match between him and Alekhine for the World Championship would not take
place. But the issue of travel to Argentina was not entirely clear because the Cuban sports
organization said it did not have funds to pay Capablanca’s passage from France.5
On the other hand, there were problems in Argentina since the funds promised to cel-
ebrate the tournament had not been paid out completely, according to an article by Grau in
the weekly Aquí Está on May 11. It was not until mid–July that Havana received a letter
from Augusto De Muro, president of the Argentinian Chess Federation, with the news that
Margate 1939
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
1 Keres, Paul • ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 71⁄2
2 Capablanca, José Raúl ½ • ½ 1 ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 1 61⁄2 25.75
3 Flohr, Salo ½ ½ • 0 ½ 1 1 1 1 1 61⁄2 24.25
4 Thomas, George Alan 0 0 1 • ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 5
5 Milner Barry, Philip S. ½ ½ ½ ½ • 0 1 ½ ½ ½ 41⁄2
6 Najdorf, Moshe 0 ½ 0 0 1 • 0 1 ½ 1 4
7 Golombek, Harry 0 0 0 ½ 0 1 • ½ ½ 1 31⁄2
8 Sergeant, Edward G. 0 ½ 0 ½ ½ 0 ½ • 1 0 3
9 Menchik, Vera 0 0 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 • ½ 21⁄2
10 Wheatcroft, George 0 0 0 0 ½ 0 0 1 ½ • 2
the host country would pay for the tickets and accommodations of the teams, including
Capablanca’s and Olga’s from Europe. A chronicle published unsigned in Crítica (August
21) about Capablanca when he landed on August 20 from the ship Neptunia described the
Cuban as “a little man with the appearance of a monk who wore a habit, slightly tanned,
slightly sad, slightly short-sighted.” And “towing a scintillatingly beautiful woman.” Another
Capablanca silhouette in El Gráfico (September 15, 1939, page 22) highlighted the changes
through the passage of time: “Twelve years ago Capablanca was sharp and abrupt to converse
with; now, eternal and frustrated challenger and with twelve more years, without losing his
characteristic openness and sincerity, he is nicer, more humanized perhaps.”
Olga, whom the Buenos Aires press described as a “sculptural beauty” or a “Russian
goddess,” could not prevent, as her compatriot Nadezhda had not been able to in 1927, the
questions of the journalists. “I don’t know a word of chess,” said Olga. “Even though Louis
XIV, the Duke of Nemours and Peter the Great played it, I was never attracted. I prefer
music.” The siege after their arrival was soon raised by Cuba’s ambassador in Argentina,
Ramiro Hernández Portela, who invited the Capablancas, as well as the rest of the Cuban
team that two days earlier had arrived at the capital of Argentina from Chile, after they trav-
eled from Cuba aboard the ship Órbita, to a “roast with the hide” in a place close to the city.
In Buenos Aires, Capablanca rented a furnished apartment in Plaza San Martín and had at
his disposal a car with a driver, who used to take him for a ride, as well as to the hippodrome,
where another race horse had been baptized with his name.
On the opening day, Capablanca felt awe at the massive meeting of players and told
Crítica that he had never witnessed a spectacle so brilliant in all his years of international
chess competitions. Alekhine, who had a column in the journal El Mundo, agreed that the
beginning of the Tournament of Nations was splendid. The only detail that subtracted from
its magnificence was the non-attendance of the United States team, which had won the gold
medal in the four previous Tournaments of the Nations.
As captain of the Cuban team, Capablanca had to designate the order of boards, which
he made following the placement of a qualifying competition held in Havana. Those classified
for the Cuban team were, in this order: 1. Alberto López, Cuban Federation; 2. Miguel
Alemán, Cuban Federation; 3. Rafael Blanco, National Federation; and 4. Francisco Planas,
Cuban Federation.
This meant that Planas, who according to the former world champion was the second-
best player of the Cuban team, was relegated to the role of reserve. Capablanca did not want to
make the bad relations between the two Cuban federations a personal matter against Planas, so
he explained to him that as the strongest player of the Cuban team after Capablanca himself,
the right thing was that he faced weaker opponents on boards three and four, and thus earn
more points. Planas’s score of 3 wins and 2 draws in the qualifying phase, together with Capa-
blanca’s in the first board (1 win and 4 draws), proved decisive for the classification of the Cuban
team to the main group in the final stage of the Hamilton-Russell Cup.6 At the end, Planas was
the member of the Cuban team with the most games played, despite being in “reserve.”
After the draw in the first round of the qualifying stage against Moshe Czerniak
(White) of Palestine, Capablanca wrote for Crítica (August 25) an assessment about his
game in relation to his state of health:
My friends and many fans had no doubt thought that I should have won, and probably they were
right. But for me the most important thing was to test, to my own satisfaction, the state of my
forces, not only in the strategic part and the general understanding of the situation, but also in
relation to the easiness to view and deepen possible combinations in certain cases. In these vari-
ous elements of the game, I was quite satisfied. In the technical part was where I was weaker, as
has been happening to me for some time. But it is easily understandable if you take into account
that due to my occupations and the various non-chess interests I have, I often went whole months
without seeing a board, and what is worse, without thinking about chess. This continuing lack of
practice is what produces this weakness in terms of the technique of the game. Also as a result of
this lack of practice, there is a marked tendency to mental fatigue after three hours of play. Logi-
cally, this weakness should decrease and may disappear with the progress of the tournament.
It was against the same Czerniak, in the third round of the final stage, that Capablanca
obtained one of his memorable productions at the Tournament of Nations, in which, accord-
ing to Panov, the Cuban showed inventiveness and new ideas.
Capablanca–Moshe Czerniak [B22]

3rd Round, Final, Chess Olympiad
1. e4 c6 2. d4 d5 3. e×d5 c×d5 4. c4 Nc6 5. Nf3 Bg4 All the texts consider that 5. …
Nf6 is better. 6. c×d5 Q×d5 7. Be2 e6 8. 0–0 Nf6 9. Nc3 Qa5 10. h3 Bh5 11. a3 Rd8 If
11. … Be7 12. Be3 Nd5 13. Qb3 N×c3 14. b×c3 Qc7 15. c4 and White is better. Istratescu–
V. Georgiev, Halle 1995. 12. g4 Bg6 13. b4 B×b4 Better is 13. … Qc7 14. Qa4 a6 15. b5 a×b5
16. N×b5 Qa5 17. Q×a5 N×a5 18. Nc7+ Kd7 19. Bf4 Bd6 with an even position. 14. a×b4
Q×a1 15. Qb3 R×d4 16. Ba3 Bc2 17. Q×c2 Q×a3 18. Nb5 Q×b4 Interesting is 18. …
R×g4+! 19. h×g4 Q×b4 20. Ne5 0–0 with an even position. 19. Nf×d4 N×d4 20. N×d4
Now White is better. 20. … 0–0 If 20. … Q×d4 21. Rd1 winning. 21. Rd1 Nd5 If 21. … h6
22. Nf3 a6 23. Rb1 Qe7 24. Ne5 Nd5 25. Bf3 with advantage for
White. 22. Bf3 Nf4 23. Kh2 e5 24. Nf5 g6 25. Ne3 Ne6 26. Nd5 wDwDw4wD
Qa3 27. Rd3 Qa1 Or 27. … Qc5 28. Qb2 Nd4 29. Be4 f5 30. g×f5 DpDwDwip
N×f5 31. B×f5 R×f5 32. Ne3 and White is winning. 28. Rd1 pDwDw0pD
Qa3 29. Rd3 Qa1 30. Qd2 Kg7 31. Qe2 f6 32. Qe3 a6 33. Rd1 DwDw0wDw
Qb2 34. Nc3 Nd4 If 34. … b5 35. Rd7+ Rf7 36. R×f7+ K×f7 wDwhwDPD
37. Qa7+ Kf8 38. Bd5 winning (see diagram) DwHw!BDP
35. Rb1 Qc2 If 35. … Qd2 36. R×b7+ Kh8 37. Bg2 Q×e3 w1wDw)wI
38. f×e3 Nc2 39. Nd5 with a winning position. 36. Be4 Black DwDRDwDw
resigned. 1–0. After 34. … Nd4
Another full-voltage game was Capablanca’s victory against the Dutch Tjeerd (Theo)
Daniel Van Scheltinga in the fifth round of the final stage, in which the Cuban again claimed
to have had “a moment of mental absence and I forgot to make a basic move that was the
reason, for a long time, that I could mobilize neither the king rook nor the king knight, and
I couldn’t castle. As a matter of fact, I never castled and my king did not move from its
original square until the game was nearly finished.”
Capablanca–Tjeerd (Theo) Van Scheltinga [E32]

5th Round, Final, Chess Olympiad,
1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. Qc2 0–0 5. a3 B×c3+ 6. Q×c3 d6 Better is 6. … b6
7. Bg5 Bb7 8. f3 h6 9. Bh4 d5 10. e3 c5 11. d×c5 b×c5 12. B×f6 Q×f6 13. Q×f6 g×f6 14. Rc1
Nd7 15. c×d5 B×d5 with an even position. 7. g3 Qe7 8. Bg2 According to Alekhine, a trans-
position of moves. e5 9. d5 Preferred is 9. d×e5 d×e5 10. Nf3 Re8 11. 0–0 c5 12. Bg5 Nc6
13. Nd2 Nd4 14. Rae1 and White is a little better. Huzman–Balashov, Moscow 1989. 9. …
a5 10. b4 Or 10. b3 Nbd7 11. Nf3 Nc5 12. Nd2 Bf5 13. 0–0 Nfe4 14. N×e4 B×e4 15. f3 Bg6
16. Be3 b6 with an even position. Enevoldsen–Capablanca, Buenos Aires 1939. 10. … a×b4
11. a×b4 R×a1 12. Q×a1 Na6 13. Ba3 Ng4 14. h3 Or 14. Nf3 e4 15. Nd4 e3 16. f3 Nf2 17. 0–
0 Nh3+ 18. B×h3 (if 18. Kh1 Nf2+ 19. Kg1 Nh3+ and draw) 18. … B×h3 19. Rd1 Re8
20. Rd3 Qg5 21. Qc1 h5 22. Nc2 h4 23. R×e3 R×e3 24. Q×e3 winning. 14. … Nh6 15. Nf3
f5 16. b5 e4 Interesting is 16. … Nb8 17. 0–0 Nd7 18. Qc3 and White is only a little better.
17. b×a6 e×f3 18. B×f3 b×a6 19. c5 f4 If 19. … d×c5 20. Qc1 Re8 21. B×c5 Qd7 22. 0–0
and White is much better. 20. c×d6 c×d6 21. g×f4 R×f4 (see diagram)
22. Rg1 Rf6 If 22. … R×f3 23. B×d6! 23. Bh5 Better seems
wDbDwDkD 23. Bb2 Rg6 24. R×g6 h×g6 25. Bg2 Nf5 26. Qc1 Qb7 27. Qc3
DwDw1w0p with a much better position. 23. … Nf7 24. Rg3 Ne5 25. Re3
pDw0wDwh g6 26. Bg4 B×g4 27. h×g4 Qd7 Better seems 27. … Qf7 28. Qd4
DwDPDwDw Rf4 29. Re4 R×e4 30. Q×e4 Qc7 31. Qb4 N×g4 32. Q×g4 Qc3+
wDwDw4wD 33. Kf1 Q×a3 34. Qe6+ with an even game. 28. f3 Qa4 29. Bb2!
GwDwDBDP Qb4+ If 29. … Q×a1+ 30. B×a1 h5 31. g×h5 g×h5 32. B×e5
wDwDP)wD d×e5 33. R×e5 Rh6 34. d6 R×d6 35. R×h5 with a winning posi-
!wDwIwDR tion. 30. Bc3 Qb5 31. B×e5 d×e5 32. Q×e5 Rf7 33. Rc3 Qb1+
After 21. … R×f4 34. Kf2 Qb6+ 35. Kg2 Qd8 36. Qe6 Kg7 37. Rc8 Qg5 38. d6
h5 39. Rc7 Or 39. Qe8 Kf6 40. d7 and mate in at most eight
moves. 39. … R×c7 40. d×c7 Black resigned. 1–0.
This game has prompted interesting comments in the digital pages of chess forums, as
in the “Kibitzer’s Corner” section of Chessgames.com. For one of the regular participants
of “Kibitzer’s Corner,” who signs under the pseudonym “Visayanbraindoctor” (and not know-
ing the failure to castle was the result of a mental lapsus), this production was admirable:
I keep on being continually amazed at Capablanca games that I replay for the 1st time. Capa,
with years of Hypertension and probably repeated Transient Ischemic Attacks, in 1939 was no
longer a chess machine who played the nearly perfect, smooth, and almost errorless chess that he
did during WWI to 1922. Yet his recovery in this game recalls the magic of the old Capablanca
touch. After 13. … Ng4, almost all players would choose a plan that would inevitably lead to
White castling on the kingside. But Capa intuitively knew that his king was far safer left uncas-
tled in the center. Instead he developed his rook to the center in front of his king via g1, g3, and
e3, and won by totally dominating the center. By 29. Bb2, the position had radically changed to
favor White who now indeed totally dominated the center. The change of position from 13. …
Ng4 to 29. Bb2 comes about so smoothly as to be almost magical, but that’s the genuine magic of
the Capablanca touch.
This comment was reinforced by another participant on the Web site, “Whitehat1963,”
with the phrase: “So simple, typical Capablanca chess.”
Referring to Capablanca’s game against the Lithuanian champion Vladas Ivanovich
Mikėnas (Black), in the seventh round of the final phase, Grau asked in the magazine Leoplán
(September 15, 1940): “Would there be anybody who could take advantage [of Capablanca]
in the openings?” He answered himself: “It can be said that the answer is no.” The Argentine
explained that the Cuban “is one of the players who know less about technique, if to know
technique means remembering the openings by heart. But Capablanca has the full sense of
the positions, and constructs with the same ease that he destroys over the board” (Leoplán,
September 15, 1940).
“This variation,” wrote Grau about the opening of the game,
was used by Mikenas because it had been played by Botvinnik in Moscow. It was qualified as
extraordinary, perhaps by the mere fact that Botvinnik achieved a resounding victory with the
same and the Russian master won first place in the tournament. It was the last word of technique
in the Nimzowitsch Defense and was one of the technical secrets of the searchers of novelties to
surprise their opponents. I remember that in our place of concentration in Adrogué,7 Dr.
Alekhine had warned us against the variation, without imagining that its refutation was so near.
Meanwhile, Capablanca, as always, remained absent from these investigations, which he knows
are almost always artificial. Mikenas played the variation against him and a murmur rippled
among technicians. The Cuban grandmaster meditated a while and he found the total refutation
of the venture on the board, showing in a glaring way how the positional concept is more impor-
tant than the accumulation of crazy and strange ideas in the brain.
Capablanca–Vladas I. Mikėnas [E33]

1. d4 Nf6 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Bb4 4. Qc2 Nc6 5. Nf3 d5 6. a3 Preferred nowadays is 6. e3
0–0 7. a3 B×c3+ 8. Q×c3 Bd7 9. b3 a5 10. Bb2 Qe7 11. Bd3 Rfd8 12. 0–0 and White is a
little better. Rusele-Arnasson, Moscow 1994. 6. … B×c3+ 7. Q×c3 a5 8. b3 0–0 9. Bg5
Better than putting the bishop on b2 (Alekhine). 9. … h6 10. B×f6 Q×f6 11. e3 Bd7 11. …
Re8 gives better chances to even the game. 12. Bd3 Rfc8 13. 0–0 a4 14. b4 d×c4 15. B×c4
Na7 16. Ne5 Be8 Better seems 16. … Bb5 although White is still
ahead. 17. f4 b6 Better is 17. … Nb5. 18. Qd3 Rd8 (see diagram) rDw4bDkD
19. f5! b5 20. f×e6 b×c4 21. R×f6 c×d3 22. e×f7+ B×f7 hw0wDp0w
23. R×f7 Nb5 24. Rf2 Rd5 If 24. … Re8 25. Rd2 Rad8 26. Kf2 w0wDp1w0
Rf8+ 27. Ke1 Rd6 28. R×d3 with a winning position. 25. N×d3 DwDwHwDw
Re8 26. Rf3 Black resigned. 1–0. “His [Capablanca’s] victory is p)B)w)wD
due to a one good move: Bg5, instead of placing the bishop at b2 )wDQ)wDw
where it would be inactive for a long time. White used it to elim- wDwDwDP)
inate the only well-developed Black piece, the king’s knight” $wDwDRIw
(Alekhine). After 18. … Rd8
Among the games Capablanca played in Buenos Aires, some were not free of contro-
versy, such as his match-up against Grau (Black) in the ninth round of the final stage, which
has been ever since wrapped in an aura of mystery. The story of the outcome of this game
began when the Buenos Aires newspaper Nueva Palabra, in its edition of September 12,
1939, headed its information of the previous day’s competition with the sensational title
“Capablanca Took Back a Move Yesterday.”
Twenty years later, in 1959, the “taken back” move was a matter that the Spanish trans-
lator of the book by Euwe and Prins on Capablanca considered still important enough to
include a tagline to the comment that Euwe made on this encounter, in the sense that the
draw in the final position of the game has no explanation. “The authors,” wrote the translator
L.A. Asterblum, “while Prins was in the Buenos Aires tournament, do not conform to the
truth of the facts. In this game Capablanca at one point touched a piece and if he had played
it, he would have lost the game. Grau, with high sporting spirit, insisted that he make another
move, which Capablanca accepted, and a few moves later, although his position was better,
he proposed a draw. An unusual situation but that should be known.”
Almost three quarters of a century later, every chess fan in the Argentinian capital city
seemed to have his theory of what happened that afternoon during the resumption of the
games from the previous day. Here is what actually happened:
Capablanca–Roberto Grau [A26]

1. c4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. g3 g6 4. d3 Bg7 5. Bd2 The normal way of playing this variation
is 5. Bg2 d6 6. Rb1 a5 7. a3 Nf6 8. b4 a×b4 9. a×b4 0–0 10. b5 Nd4 11. e3 Ne6 12. Nge2 Re8
13. 0–0 Nc5 14. h3 h6 15. Bb2 Bd7 16. d4 e×d4 17. N×d4 Qc8 18. Kh2 c6 19. Qc2 Qc7
20. Ra1 R×a1 21. R×a1 h5 22. Kg1 Qc8 with an even position. Kasparov–Hort, Cologne
1988. 5. … Nge7 6. Bg2 d6 7. Rb1 0–0 8. h4 h5 9. b4 Nf5 10. b5 Ncd4 11. Nh3 Ne6 12. Ng5
Nc5 13. Nge4 Nd4 Better seems 13. … N×e4 14. B×e4 Nd4 15. 0–0 Rb8 16. Bg5 Qe8 17. Nd5
Bg4 18. f3 Bh3 19. Rf2 although White is a little better. 14. N×c5 d×c5 15. Bd5 Kh8 Better
seems 15. … c6 16. b×c6 b×c6 17. Bg2 Bg4 18. f3 Bf5 19. Ne4 although White is a little better.
16. e3 Nf5 17. Bc1 Ne7 18. Bf3 Bf5 19. B×b7 B×d3 20. B×a8 Q×a8 21. Q×d3 Q×h1+
22. Ke2 f5 Better is 22. … Nf5 23. Ne4 Qg2 24. Bd2 Re8 25. Re1 Nh6 26. Ng5 Nf5 27. Qd7
Rf8 28. N×f7+ Kh7 29. Ng5+ Kh8 30. Kd1 Q×f2 31. Ne6 although White is better. 23. Ba3
Qg2 24. e4 f×e4 Better seems 24. … Q×f2+ 25. K×f2 f×e4+ 26. Ke3 e×d3 27. B×c5 Nf5+
28. K×d3 Rd8+ 29. Nd5 N×g3 30. Rg1 although White is better. 25. N×e4 Nf5 26. B×c5
Nd4+ 27. B×d4 e×d4 28. Re1 Be5 29. Rf1 Better seems 29. Kd1
wDwDwDwD Rf3 30. Qd2 Kg7 31. Kc1 d3 32. Qb4 Bd4 33. Ng5 Re3 34. Ne6+
0w0wDwDk winning. 29. … Bg7 30. Nd2 Rf6 31. Qe4 d3+ Better seems 31. …
wDwDwDpg Qh3 32. Kd3 Kh7 33. Kc2 Re6 34. Qd3 although White is better.
)PDwDwDp 32. Kd1 R×f2 33. R×f2 Q×f2 34. Q×d3 Kh7 35. a4 Qf6
w1PDNDw) 36. Ke2 Qb2 37. Qb3 Qd4 38. Qe3 Qd6 39. a5 Bh6 40. Ne4
DwDQDw)w Qe7 At this time the first session ended. Capablanca wrote for
wDwDKDwD Crítica (September 12, 1939): “The game was adjourned after
DwDwDwDw Black’s 40th move in a position that, in my opinion, should be
After 41. … Qb4 easy to win.” 41. Qd3 Qb4 (see diagram)
The official score shows that Capablanca took his queen to d7 with check. 42. Qd7+
But according to Planas, who witnessed the resumption of the game, Capablanca slid his
queen to a square beyond the desired one, to d8, and said: “Check.” Grau, seeing that the
queen on d8 did not check, asked, astonished: “Where is the check, Capita?” Capablanca
said: “Oh, it is on queen seven [d7], sorry.” Grau did not object and said: “Okay, okay.” It
was a gentlemanly gesture by the Argentine master who was completely lost, by not requiring
that the queen remained in d8.8 A brief analysis shows that White was not lost after 42. Qd8
Q×c4+ 43. Qd3 because if Black persists on continuing with the capture of other queenside
pawns with the queen, as the one in a5 via the intermediate check in a2, White has perpetual
check starting in d7 with the queen and then with the knight in f6 and g8; or g5 and f7,
according to where the king or bishop moves. The game continued 42. Qd7+ Bg7 43. Q×c7
Qb2+ 44. Nd2 Qd4 45. b6 Qg4+ 46. Ke1 Qe6+ 47. Kd1 Qg4+ 48. Kc1 a×b6 49. a×b6
and in this position, which Capablanca should win easily, he offered a draw due to the earlier
gentlemanly gesture of Grau. ½–½.
The game with Grau convened a big turnout in front of the table of the two masters.
This was not unusual in Buenos Aires, where Capablanca, though no longer the world cham-
pion, was not only the most attractive figure, but the most beloved, according to a story
published in El Gráfico, September 15, 1939:
Now that the best players of the world are in Buenos Aires, we perceive, with pristine clarity, the
difference in popularity that exists between any of them, even the most famous names, and
Capablanca. The show is Capablanca. Newspapers dedicate their boldest headlines to him. Peo-
ple crowded around his game every night, live its incidents, suffer when he is in a difficult posi-
tion and rejoice when he wins. Buenos Aires has not learned that Capablanca lost the World
Championship, although he did it in our city. It has not learned, because it doesn’t want to
learn; and that is the reason why it will never learn it.
On the last day of the tournament, against the Brazilian master Octavio Figueira Trompov-
sky de Almeida (Black), Capablanca made the type of maneuver of simplification that led his
chess art to those heights of easiness that have been an inseparable part of his legacy.
Capablanca–Octavio F. Trompovsky [E01]

Final, 15th Round, Chess Olympiad,
1. c4 Nf6 2. g3 e6 3. Bg2 d5 4. d4 c5 5. c×d5 N×d5 6. Nf3 Nc6 The modern treatment
is 6. … c×d4 7. N×d4 Bc5 8. 0–0 0–0 9. Nb3 Be7 10. Bd2 Nc6 11. Nc3 Nb6 with an even
game. 7. 0–0 c×d4 8. N×d4 Be7 9. N×c6 b×c6 10. Qa4 Bb7 If 10. … Bd7 11. Rd1 0–0
12. e4 Nb6 13. Qc2 Qc7 14. Be3 c5 15. Na3 Rac8 16. Rac1 Rfd8 17. Bf1 and White is better.
Kohlweyer–Ernst, Gausdal 1993. 11. Rd1 0–0 Better seems 11. … Qb6 12. e4 Nf6 13. Be3
Qc7 (if 13. … Q×b2 14. Nd2 Qa3 15. Q×a3 B×a3 16. Nc4 Be7 17. Na5 Ba6 18. N×c6 and
White is winning) 14. e5 Nd7 15. f4 although White is better. 12. Na3 White could play
12. e4 Nb6 13. R×d8 N×a4 14. Rd7 Rfd8 15. R×b7 Rd1+ 16. Bf1 R×c1 17. R×e7 N×b2
18. Kg2 Nd1 19. Rb7 Nc3 20. e5 Rd8 21. a4 g5 22. a5 a6 23. Rb3 Nb5 24. Ra2 winning.
12. … Qb6 13. e4 Nf6 14. Nc4 Qb5 15. Qc2 Rfd8 16. Bf4 Rac8 Better seems 16. … c5
17. Bd6 B×d6 18. N×d6 Qc6 19. N×b7 Q×b7 20. Rac1 e5 although with advantage for
White (see diagram)
1939 Buenos Aires (Chess Olympics Games) Final Phase
(This crosstable shows results only among official first board players)
l
ta es
No. Name (Country) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 To am W L D Pts %
G
1 Capablanca (Cuba) • – ½ – – ½ 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 ½ – 10 6 – 4 8 80
2 Alekhine (France) – • – – ½ ½ – ½ – ½ 1 ½ 1 – 1 8 3 – 5 51⁄2 69
3 Petrov (Latvia) ½ – • – ½ ½ ½ 1 1 ½ 1 1 1 1 – 11 6 – 5 81⁄2 77
4 Eliskases (Germany) – – – • 1 ½ 0 ½ – ½ – 1 – 1 1 8 4 1 3 51⁄2 69
5 Keres (Estonia) – ½ ½ 0 • ½ 1 1 ½ – – 1 – – – 8 3 1 4 5 63
6 Ståhlberg (Sweden) ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ • – 1 ½ 1 – ½ 1 – 1 11 4 – 7 71⁄2 68
7 Opočenský (Bohemia) 0 – ½ 1 0 – • 0 – 1 0 – – – 1 8 3 4 1 31⁄2 44
8 Mikėnas (Lithuania) 0 ½ 0 ½ 0 0 1 • 0 ½ 1 – 1 1 1 13 5 5 3 61⁄2 50
9 Tartakower (Poland) ½ – 0 – ½ ½ – 1 • 0 0 ½ 1 – 1 10 3 3 4 5 50
10 Van Scheltinga (Netherlands) 0 ½ ½ ½ – 0 0 ½ 1 • 0 ½ 1 1 – 13 3 4 5 5 38
11 Czerniak (Palestine) 0 0 0 – – – 1 0 1 1 • – 0 – – 8 3 5 – 3 38
12 Trompovski (Brazil) 0 ½ 0 0 0 ½ – – ½ ½ – • 1 – 0 10 1 5 4 3 30
13 Enevoldsen (Denmark) 0 0 0 – 0 0 – 0 0 0 1 0 • ½ 1 12 2 9 1 21⁄2 21
14 Grau (Argentina) ½ – 0 0 – – – 0 – 0 – – ½ • ½ 7 – 4 3 11⁄2 21
15 Castillo (Chile) – 0 – 0 – 0 0 0 0 – – 1 0 ½ • 9 1 7 1 11⁄2 17
wDr4wDkD 17. Bd6! Ba6 If 17. … Bf8 18. e5 Ne8 19. a4 Qa6 20. B×f8
0bDwgp0p K×f8 21. b4 Ba8 22. Nd6 N×d6 23. e×d6 with a big advantage
wDpDphwD for White. 18. B×e7 R×d1+ 19. R×d1 Q×c4 20. Q×c4 B×c4
DqDwDwDw 21. b3 Bb5 22. a4 Ba6 If 22. … Be2 23. Rd2 Bh5 24. Bc5 a6
wDNDPGwD 25. b4 h6 26. f3 Ra8 27. g4 Bg6 28. a5 with a winning position
DwDwDw)w for White. 23. Bc5 h6 Of course, if 23. … Ra8 24. B×a7 winning.
P)QDw)B) 24. B×a7 Kf8 25. f3 Ke7 If 25. … c5 26. Rd6 Bb7 27. e5 Nd5
$wDRDwIw 28. Bf1 Nb4 29. Bb5 with a winning position. 26. Bc5+ Ke8
After 16. … Rac8 27. Kf2 Nd7 28. Bd6 c5 29. e5 Bb7 30. Rc1 Bd5 31. f4 B×g2
32. K×g2 c4 33. a5 c3 34. Kf3 c2 35. Ke2 Nb8 36. Kd2 Black
resigned. This was the last official game of Capablanca’s career. 1–0.
With this victory, Capablanca obtained the best percentage on first board in the final
stage of the Tournament of the Nations with 6 wins and 5 draws, for a total of 8½ points of
11 possible. With this, he won the gold medal at the first board, which was given to him in
the closing ceremony of the competition.9 When the last games of the Tournament of Nations
were finished on August 31, the Club Argentino de Ajedrez started working on putting an
end to a matter that had been pending since 1927: the return match between Alekhine and
Capablanca.
In a September 16, 1939, letter to De Muro, president of the Argentinian Chess Fed-
eration, Capablanca expressed his willingness to allow changes to the London Rules, espe-
cially the issue of the funds that would go to the loser of the match. “I recognize that of that
purse Mr. Alekhine has the right to receive 20 percent as a fee for being world champion.
The remaining 80 percent it is customary to divide in the proportion of 60 percent to the
winner and 40 percent to the loser, but if you wish to alter the proportion to 70–30 or 80–
20 or even all for the winner, I have not slightest objection to make.”10
After the summer of 1938, a joint Argentina-Uruguay committee proposed a formula
to reduce the expenses related to the prizes, a change which was highly unfavorable to the
Cuban master: $2,500 (about $43,000 in 2015) if he won, and $1,000 ($17,000) if he lost.
Alekhine would receive the rest of the $10,000 in gold that represented in 1939 close to
$17,000 (more than $280,000). In response, Capablanca stated that he was willing to play
if the whole purse would go to the winner (Carteles, July 17/August 28, 1938). Grau expressed
his doubts that Capablanca would have accepted such an arrangement when he was cham-
pion, to which the Cuban master responded from Paris in Mundo Latino magazine (quoted
in Carteles, April 30, 1939): “Mr. Grau is sorely mistaken, because on a certain occasion,
when I was champion, I stated orally and also in writing, under my signature, that I was will-
ing to play a return match with Dr. Lasker under those conditions” (see Chapter 12 for Capa-
blanca’s letter to Lasker). What Capablanca would not accept as a matter of principle was
that, if he won, he would receive less money than the defeated Alekhine. Grau’s argument
was that if Capablanca really wanted to play a match for the world championship, he would
accept any arrangement at hand.
The new negotiations started in early September under inauspicious circumstances,
since in responding to a letter sent by De Muro on September 13, Alekhine explained to him
that he would have to answer the summons for deployment as a reserve interpreter officer
of the French army. Those circumstances, however, seemed to have changed by October 28,
because on that date Alekhine wrote again to the president of the Federación Argentina de
Ajedrez: “At the moment I write these lines, my main difficulties have been overcome and
it is highly probable that your contract [for the world championship] will be financed by
the beginning of the upcoming week.”11
A letter from Capablanca to Figueredo dated October 23 corroborated his growing
sense of optimism about coming to an arrangement.
My dear friend,
I had not responded to you before so that I would be able to give you the good news about
the arrangement of the match for the world chess championship. It appears that everything is
going well and that all papers will be signed tomorrow.
You can imagine what this has cost me, especially since Cuba, as always, has left me high and
dry. Had I been given the five thousand here, everything would have been solved in a better,
timelier fashion. But, since that is now almost history, it will be more profitable to concern our-
selves with the future, and not the past. Right now, I need two or three thousand pesos [about
$50,000 in 2015] to get ready, because I have everything arranged with Eliskases, who trained
Alekhine for his last match with Euwe—who, by the way, is mad at A. [Alekhine]. There is no
better trainer than Eliskases, but I have to pay him and keep him during two months before the
match, and then two more months during the match, which would be another two months. I
need you to please do me a favor and find somebody who can talk with the President to see if he
can make them send me the money. Do not believe in what the Secretary of the Treasury [of
Cuba] is telling him, because I think he is not telling the truth.
Through Portela, our minister [in Buenos Aires], I am sending you the Tournament of
Nations bulletins.
Mr. Portela will stay at the Hotel Presidente, and I would like you to go there and talk to him
about the money I need and the way to obtain it.
Give my best to your family, and to my friends and comrades at our Federation.
Best regards,
Your friend,
J.R. Capablanca [Figueredo-Romero Archives].
As usual, no agreement was ever reached. Nor did Capablanca receive the funds
approved by the Cuban Congress and authorized by the president of the nation to cover
expenses related to the world chess championship.
According to Paulino Alles Monasterio, what transpired on this occasion was that,
when after much effort one of them approved one of the clauses, the other would modify
it. The supposedly final documents that had to be reverted to drafts were more than thirty.
In the end, when apparently all disputed matters were approved by both, one of the two
masters declined to sign the final version. Luis R. Piazzini, who was in charge of the nego-
tiations, did not want to disclose which one of them gave the last denial—if, indeed, that is
the way it happened, because his account ignores the fact that the funds, 90,000 Argentinian
pesos (more than $280,000 in 2015), were never completely raised.
The official magazine of the 1939 FIDE Congress (Buenos Aires, November 1939, pages
10–12) published a different account of the events:
Long negotiations were undertaken by a special committee designated by the Club Argentino to
bring the two masters to an agreement in the regulatory and financial issues. The inflexible con-
dition imposed by Alekhine of a purse of $10,000 in gold [$17,000 in 1939, or more than
$280,000 in 2015] seemed easy to achieve in the beginning, but complications derived from the
European situation soured some proposals, and the organizers froze the negotiations once the
other difficulties were solved.
They appealed to FIDE president Don Augusto De Muro,12 for him to find a financial solu-
tion for the match. In a meeting with Alekhine, De Muro proposed to play the match with a set
purse of 50,000 Argentinian pesos [about $158,000 in 2015], since the 90,000 Argentinian
pesos, equivalent to $10,000 in gold, were unattainable. Dr. Alekhine said that to reduce the
purse for the match against Capablanca would break a line of conduct that he had inflexibly
maintained since 1927, and thus ended De Muro’s involvement, who stated that in no case would
the match be done with a disbursement over the amount he had himself proposed.
Grau wrote later a summary of those events (Aquí Está, December 28, 1939). However,
instead of shedding light, he clouded them with his insistence that Capablanca should make
concessions in principle if he really wanted to play against Alekhine. Grau headed the Círculo
de Ajedrez (Chess Circle) group opposed to the Club Argentino de Ajedrez, whose directors
were the main promoters of the match. Some of the latter felt guilty for having induced
Capablanca to defend his crown in Buenos Aires, not foreseeing Alekhine’s position of never
facing Capablanca again. Among them, one who pushed the situation to the limit was Carlos
Querencio, the arbiter of the 1927 match, who published a harsh open letter to the world
champion and harassed him everywhere, demanding that he give Capablanca once and for
all the opportunity to fight for what he had lost. On one occasion, Alekhine had no alter-
native but to seek refuge in the Club Argentino restrooms, where he stayed for a while until
calmer minds were able to convince Querencio to abandon his aggressive pestering.
Alekhine left Buenos Aires in early December, and weeks later he wrote in Lisbon that
the Argentinians had lied to him about having strong funding for the match, a comment
that angered even Grau, one of his most stalwart defenders. In Leoplán (March 12, 1940)
Grau addressed the world champion, expressing that such a statement had been an act of
ingratitude after the many courtesies that Argentina had bestowed on him. On January 17
without an agreement, Capablanca flew to Chile, with a stopover at the Argentinian city of
Mendoza, at the foot of the Andes, after soliciting permission from his superiors in Cuba
to travel to Havana due to the war in Europe.13
Upon learning about the departure of Capablanca, one of his 1927 critics, Amílcar
Celaya, said his farewells with a note in Noticias Gráficas ( January 17, 1940), which seethed
with cruelty and resentment: “After arriving by sea, this morning departed by air the man
who, after rounding the cape of his half a century of existence, roams America and Europe
in pursuit of vindication as a chess player.… And then, exhausted, aged, his eyesight weak,
and his blood pressure high, Capablanca will descend from the plane arm in arm with a Rus-
sian princess. Perhaps there will be nobody waiting for him on the tarmac.”14
During the stopover of the plane (from the Panagra airline) in Mendoza, a journalist
from the newspaper Diario de los Andes ( January 19, 1940) interviewed him at the gate.
Capablanca did not blame Alekhine for the failure of the negotiations. He settled for explain-
ing that he understood the financial reasons for which it was an impossibility to raise the
sum of 90,000 Argentinian pesos after the enormous expenses of the Tournament of Nations.
When the reporter asked him about his projects, Capablanca responded with a melancholy
summary of his life. “When, in the capital of the Czars, I faced masters consecrated by years
and prestige, I was 23. [Actually, he was 25.] Today I am already 51. And have I played chess
all during this time! I do not know if I will play in Santiago de Chile, and I cannot preoccupy
myself with it.” According to the newsman, Capablanca looked at the foggy peaks on the
horizon and took his leave with a resigned comment: “I am nothing but a traveler who, in
just a few minutes, will fly over the Andean massif.”15
When the ship Santa Elena from Valparaíso entered the port of Havana on February
17, Capablanca’s daughter Gloria de los Ángeles was awaiting him, as well as Figueredo,
Corzo, fencer Ramón Fonst and painter Esteban Valderrama. During his stay, Capablanca
offered an exhibition on April 13 with the purpose of raising funds for the Federación
Nacional de Ajedrez, with an outcome of 22 wins and 4 draws. The exhibition was played
at the Club Cubanaleco of Havana, then at a location in the neighborhood of El Vedado,
where years later one of the landmark skyscrapers in the skyline of the Cuban capital, the
Focsa tower, would be built. Capablanca realized that there was no reason to return to Europe
at a time when a transoceanic crossing was not viable, so he requested to be transferred to
the United States. It took two months, until May 18, for his request to be approved, when
the Cuban Department of State decided that he should serve in the U.S. capital, albeit
stipulating that Capablanca would have to pay for his own travel there, a very unusual require-
ment.16 Once the issue of his new destination was resolved, Capablanca asked Olga to
go to New York in order to find an apartment, which she did on May 28 aboard the Santa
Clara.17
On July 23, 1940, five weeks after Paris surrendered to the German army, the consul in
the French city of Marseilles sent an urgent cable to the director of sports in Cuba: “Lieu-
tenant Colonel Mariné. Havana Cuba. World Champion Alexander Alekhine requests of
you entrance to Cuba to finalize arrangement for his match with Capablanca. Signed: Consul
Estrada” (Carteles, September 15, 1940). When the press caught wind of the matter, they
asked Capablanca for his opinion. He responded to Carteles. “All I can say is that I am as
willing to play as I have always been, as I have been at all times. Everything depends on the
cooperation of the Cuban authorities and on Dr. Alekhine making viable propositions con-
cerning the match.” Mariné asked Capablanca to give him a written account of his views
regarding the topic. The whole thing took the former world champion by surprise, since he
was getting ready to depart for New York a few days later. In any event, it was clear that the
money for the purse would not be found in Cuba; if anything, just the funds to pay for
Alekhine’s fare from Europe to Havana. That was implicit in Mariné’s words, in the sense that
his role as director of sports would be limited to requesting a visa for the world champion.
Capablanca was afraid that, once in Cuba, Alekhine would leave for the States, leaving
him in the lurch once again. From the information in Carteles on September 15, it could be
inferred that Mariné, who was at the same time the executive assistant of Cuban ruler Ful-
gencio Batista, had Alekhine’s visa authorized, so Carteles, El Mundo and other Cuban news-
papers stated that the arrival of the world champion was expected at any time.
Mariné left the matters in the hands of Dr. Albear,18 who was his official chess advisor
as well as vice president of the Federación Cubana de Ajedrez, since Dr. Miguel Urrutia
Lleó, brother of a future president of the island, Dr. Manuel Urrutia Lleó, had succeeded
him as president of that institution in the latest elections, while Regueiro as general secretary
kept the real power. Capablanca, who doubted that Albear was as astute as Alekhine, and
was therefore not the ideal person to conduct such negotiations, asked Figueredo to do it,
which Mariné did not authorize. Holding very little hope in the success of those negotiations,
Capablanca embarked on the Oriente on July 30, the same date as his first trip to the States
in 1904. He arrived in New York on August 2, the 36th anniversary of his arrival in that
city. A small press note in the New York Times on August 3 did not make any mention of
Alekhine’s visit to the Cuban Consulate in Marseilles. Instead, it mentioned Capablanca’s
willingness “to play a match with anyone if arrangements can be made.”
Once in New York, as told by Olga to Gennadi Sosonko, Capablanca’s amazement was
very genuine when he entered for the first time the apartment she had rented in the city.
Such was his joy that he called one of his friends to tell him, “Come at once and see what
an apartment Olga has prepared for me.”19 Capablanca had good motive to be so joyful—
despite the fact that much of the furniture that Olga bought for it was second-hand—because
that small apartment was his first true home after his divorce. During all the years that had
lapsed between his separation from his first wife until that moment, he had lived in boarding
house rooms or hotel rooms, with only the exception of the months in Buenos Aires, where
he had rented a fully furnished apartment.
Besides being in a centrally located, coveted area of New York, the apartment had the
advantage of being right across the street from the Russian Tea Room, a restaurant where
they went almost every day for lunch. In that apartment, Capablanca received on weekends
his son Tuto, who was then 17 years old and studying at the exclusive Riverdale Country
School in the upper west side of the Bronx. (Years later, the brothers John, Robert and
Edward Kennedy attended that same school.) As before, Tuto was happy to spend time with
his father every weekend. But in his visits to the apartment he suffered from shortness of
breath and had asthma attacks because the place was saturated by Olga’s strong perfumes.20
Meanwhile, there was a certain worry in New York about Alekhine’s fate because very
little was heard from him after his departure from South America. The cablegram from the
Cuban Consul in Marseilles brought him back to the pages of newspapers and magazines.
A humorous note about the subject, “The Missing Chess Man,” signed by John Kieran,
appeared in the New York Times on September 1, 1940. It purported that the unknown char-
acter who eagerly sought to find any traces of the world champion was Capablanca himself.
But things took a tinge of seriousness when a week later, on September 8, the newspaper
published the note “Alekhine is safe; proposes match…. What action, if any, will be taken
in connection with this request is not known. The outstanding fact is that the champion,
having found the field for his activities in Europe enormously restricted, is anxious to come
to North America.” The information was not new, because it cited once again, more than a
month later, the old cablegram from the Cuban Consul in Marseilles.
Capablanca received a call from the newspaper asking for his opinion. “He was inter-
ested in but not greatly excited about his rival’s plan. The latter, he said, might come to
Cuba, but that would not necessarily mean that match negotiations would follow.” Capa-
blanca explained his reasons: “The logical thing would have been for Dr. Alekhine to apply
for a passport to Argentina. There, in Buenos Aires, the leading chess club cooperating with
the Argentina Chess Federation has been ready for a long time to arrange a second match.”
Capablanca let the interviewer know that “he does not take his rival’s latest move seriously.”21
The next time Capablanca’s name appeared in the New York Times, on December 8,
1940, the news had nothing to do with Alekhine, but with Planas’s famous exhibition at
Cuba’s Hotel Nacional, which we mentioned before. The note reminded the readers that
those mass chess games became fashionable after Capablanca faced 200 adversaries divided
among 50 boards at the Seventh Regiment Armory on February 12, 1931, an occasion on
which a crowd of 3,000 fans came to witness the chess festival. Planas was indeed very suc-
cessful in his gigantic simultaneous display, but the newspaper barely mentioned him again.
In contrast, the New York Times once again mentioned Capablanca as well as Lasker
in the long article “Rediscovering Chess” (December 1, 1940, page SM 10), which made an
inventory of places, activities and characters in the city related to the game. “Some of the
greatest living masters are right here in New York this winter.” In the halls of the Manhattan
Chess Club, the Hotel Alamac on Broadway, or at the Marshall Chess Club, “you can see
an old man, now in his seventies, with a mop of gray hair, a faintly guttural accent and a
cigar, always a cigar, you hardly know him without his cigar. That will be the venerable Ger-
man master, Dr. Emanuel Lasker, who was champion of the world from 1894 to 1921 and is
still a redoubtable old warrior.” About Capablanca, it said: “The Cuban master José Capa-
blanca, who dethroned Dr. Lasker at Havana in 1921, has been here since July, a bit aloof as
always and looking more than ever like a prosperous stockbroker.” This suggests that maybe
Capablanca followed the advice of his friend, the economist Benjamin M. Anderson, who
having been asked by Capablanca about the stock market pointed out a block of shares sug-
gested to him by professional stockbrokers.
In early December, Capablanca requested permission to travel to Havana for personal
reasons. On the 13th he received an answer: “Advise attaché Capablanca authorized come
Cuba ten days travel expenses on his own.” There was a footnote: “This authorization was
made by Senator Verdeja through his son Santiago. Signed by Cortina, Secretary of State.” 22
Capablanca arrived in Havana on Saturday, December 28, on a Pan American flight from
Miami. Awaiting him were his children Tita and Tuto, his sister Graciela, and some of his
friends. His former brother-in-law, Carlos Peláez, the man he had hid from Machado’s polit-
ical police, and with whom he had jumped his backyard fence to take him to safety on March
6, 1933, was also there waiting for him, as well as his disciple María Teresa Mora and that
venerable figure of Cuban chess, Rafael de Pazos. Another one who left his sickbed and his
retreat to wait for him at the airport was Juan Corzo, whose illness had forced him to give
up writing his weekly chess column in Carteles. In the last of his articles, published September
30, 1940, Corzo defended Capablanca against the accusation that he was responsible for the
poor results achieved by the Cuban team in Argentina—11th place out of 15 in the final.
From the week that followed Corzo’s retirement, the chess column was taken over by
an anonymous writer who signed himself “Interino” (Interim), and who was none other
than Figueredo. Afterwards, a person using the pen name “Ruy López” (and who was actually
Corzo’s own nephew, Enrique) followed in his footsteps. Corzo died on September 27, 1941.23
It is not clear why Capablanca stayed in Cuba until May 27, when his permit had been
for 10 days only. Perhaps he felt indisposed again and asked for an extension. Planas remem-
bered later that Capablanca was not seen much in public during this visit and that there
were rumors that he was in poor health. During the nearly five months of his stay on the
island, Capablanca gave two regular simultaneous sessions and another with clocks.24 The
first one was in the city of Pinar del Río, on March 8, in an act with great festivities, because
in addition the “José Raúl Capablanca Chess Club” of that city was inaugurated. There he
Opposite: Published three years later, in 1944, as a cover (slightly cropped here) of Capablanca
Magazine era II, is a photograph of the inauguration March 21, 1941, of the matches against
Rafael Blanco, shown facing Capablanca, and Rosendo Romero and José Fernández León. Olga
Chagodaef Capablanca is on the arm of Capa’s chair and at her side (obscured) is Matilde, a
younger sister of Capablanca. The young woman on the arm of Blanco’s chair is the wife of one
of the assistants named Emilio Canovaca and not Capa’s daughter Gloria de los Angeles as incor-
rectly identified in some periodicals. Juan Corzo, in a white suit, is standing just above Capa-
blanca; at his side is Dr. Mario Figueredo (dark suit), followed by the painter Esteban Valderrama;
the Olympic fencing gold medalist Ramón Fonst (tall at center); Dr. Rosendo Romero (grinning,
thin tie); Dr. Armando Bucelo just above the seated Blanco; Fernández León at the extreme right
edge, and the black man behind the shorter man at the rear right in the doorway is the journalist
Carlos A. Palacio—all of them part of the grandmaster’s inner circle (author’s collection).
won 28 games and drew with a 15-year-old boy named Enrique Gavilondo. The second of
his exhibitions was on May 3 at the Havana Institute of Secondary Education (high school),
where Capablanca lost against his only known pupil, María Teresa Mora.
Capablanca–María T. Mora [C25]

Simultaneous Exhibition, Havana, 3 May 1941
1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. f4 e×f4 4. Nf3 d6 The modern line is 4. … g5 5. d4 g4 6. Bc4
g×f3 7. Q×f3 d5 8. N×d5 N×d4 9. Q×f4 Bd6 10. Qf2 Nc6 11. Bf4 with a complicated posi-
tion. Mortazavi–Miles, London 1994. 5. d4 g5 6. Bb5 It seems better 6. d5 Ne5 7. Bb5+
Bd7 8. B×d7+ N×d7 9. h4 Bg7 10. h×g5 Qe7 11. Qe2 and White have a better position.
6. … Bd7 7. 0–0 Bg7 8. d5 Ne5 9. B×d7+ N×d7 10. Nd4 Ne7 11. g3 Ng6 12. Nf5 Be5
Now Black is better. 13. Qh5 Nc5 14. Bd2 Qf6 15. Rae1 0–0–0 16. Nh6 Kb8 17. h4 Very
risky. It seems better 17. Kh1 although Black is better. 17. … g×h4
wiw4wDw4 18. g×f4 (see diagram)
0p0wDpDp 18. … Bd4+ Better is 18. … N×f4! 19. Qg4 (if 19. Qf3 Qg6+
wDw0w1nH 20. Kh1 Nh5 with a winning position) 19. … Q×h6 20. B×f4 Rhg8
DwhPgwDQ 21. B×h6 R×g4+ 22. Kh1 B×c3 23. b×c3 N×e4 24. R×f7 N×c3
wDwDP)w0 25. Bd2 N×d5 with a winning position. 19. Kh2 Rde8 20. f5
DwHwDwDw Qe5+ 21. Kh1 Qg3 22. Rf3 Nf4 23. Qg4 Q×g4 24. N×g4 Nh5
P)PGwDwD 25. Kg2 Ng3 26. Rf4 Better is 26. e5 d×e5 27. Nf6 Rd8 28. Kh3
DwDw$RIw Rd6 29. Bg5 although Black is still a little better. 26. … Rhg8
After 18. g×f4 27. Kh3 B×c3 28. B×c3 R×e4 29. Re×e4 Ng×e4 30. K×h4
N×c3 31. b×c3 Kc8 32. Kh5 Kd8 33. c4 Nd7 34. Nh6 Better
seems 34. Kh6 Ke7 35. Re4+ Kf8 36. Rf4 Ne5 37. Nf6 Rg2 38. N×h7+ Ke7 39. f6+ Kd7
although Black has a winning position. 34. … Rg7 35. Rf3 Ke7 36. a4 Nf6+ 37. Kh4 Rg2
38. a5 Rh2+ 39. Kg5 Rh5+ 40. Kf4 R×h6 41. Re3+ Kf8 42. Kg5 Kg7 43. Re7 Rh5+ 44. Kf4
Rh4+ White resigned. A nice victory by María Teresa. This game does not appear in Rogelio
Caparrós’ The Games of José Raúl Capablanca, nor in Hooper and Brandreth. 0–1.
The simultaneous display with clocks against eight players was held at the Press Asso-
ciation on April 2, resulting in 6 wins and 2 draws, one obtained by the future Cuban cham-
pion Juan González25 and the other by Armando Bucelo, who achieved his fourth consecutive
draw in simultaneous displays against the former world champion. Capablanca was for a
long time on the verge of losing his game against González.
Capablanca–Juan González [C00]

Simultaneous Exhibition, Havana, 2 April 1941
1. e4 e6 2. Nc3 d5 3. Nf3 d4 4. Ne2 c5 5. c3 Nc6 6. d3 e5 7. g3 Nf6 8. c4 The modern
treatment is 8. Bg2 Be7 9. 0–0 0–0 10. h3 Ne8 11. Ne1 Be6 12. c4 a6 13. f4 f6 with an even
game. Tseitlin–Faibisovich, USSR 1967. 8. … Be7 9. Bg2 0–0 10. h3 b5 11. b3 b×c4 12. b×c4
Qa5+ 13. Bd2 Qa3 14. Qb3 Q×b3 15. a×b3 Rb8 16. Nc1 Bd7 17. Kd1 Ne8 18. Ne1
Nd6 19. f4 f6 20. Kc2 a5 21. Nf3 Ra8 22. Ne2 Rfb8 23. Ra3 Nf7 24. Rha1 Bd8 25. g4
Nb4+ 26. B×b4 c×b4 Also good is 26. … R×b4 and Black is better. 27. R3a2 a4 28. Nd2
a3 29. Rf1 Be7 30. Kb1 Bd6 31. Nf3 Nd8 32. f5 Nb7 33. Nc1 Nc5 34. Raf2 Kf7
35. Ka2 h6 36. Rh1 Bc6 37. Re2 Rd8 38. h4 Rac8 39. Bf1 Ke7 40. g5 h×g5 41. h×g5
Rh8 42. Reh2 R×h2+ 43. R×h2 f×g5 44. N×g5 Kf6 45. Nh7+ Kf7 46. Be2 Be7 47. Bh5+
Kg8 48. Bg6 Be8 49. B×e8 R×e8 50. Kb1 Ra8 51. Rh5 Kf7 52. Ng5+ B×g5 53. R×g5
Rh8 54. Rg2 Rh1 55. Kc2 R×c1+ Better is 55. … N×d3 56. K×d3 (if 56. N×d3 a2 winning)
56. … R×c1 57. c5 (if 57. Ra2 Rc3+ 58. Ke2 R×b3 winning) 57. … Rc3+ 58. Kd2 R×b3 59. Rg1
Rc3 winning. 56. K×c1 N×b3+ Better is 56. … N×d3+ 57. Kb1 Nc5 58. Re2 d3 59. Rd2
N×b3 60. Rd1 (if 60. R×d3 a2+ 61. K×a2 Nc1+ winning) 60. …
wDwDwDwD Kf6 61. Ka2 Nc5 62. Rd2 Kg5 63. Rg2+ Kf4 64. R×g7 d2 65. Rg1
DwDRDw0w N×e4 66. Kb3 K×f5 67. K×b4 a2 68. Kb3 Nf2 69. c5 d1=Q+
wDwDwiwD 70. R×d1 N×d1 71. K×a2 e4 winning. 57. Kb1 Nc5 58. Rg6 N×d3
DwDw0PDw 59. Rb6 Nc5 60. R×b4 N×e4 61. Rb7+ Kf6 62. Ka2 d3 63. Rd7
wDPDnDwD d2 64. K×a3 (see diagram)
IwDwDwDw 64. … K×f5? Better is 64. … Nc3 65. Kb3 d1=Q+ 66. R×d1
wDw0wDwD N×d1 67. c5 Ne3 68. c6 Ke7 69. c7 Kd7 70. Kc3 N×f5 winning.
DwDwDwDw Capablanca now finds a way to save the game. 65. Kb4 Kf4 66. c5
After 64. K×a3 N×c5 67. K×c5 e4 68. R×d2. Draw. ½–½.
However, the games Capablanca played in double cycle against Rafael Blanco, José Fer-
nández León and Rosendo Romero, granting them the advantage of pawn and move, from
the 21st to the 31st of April, were the ones that aroused greater interest. This was due to the
former world champion’s having agreed to play without advantage in an upcoming visit to
Cuba against any one of them who beat him or tied him in the series. Romero accomplished
this feat with two draws, but Capablanca’s premature death prevented it. Since the partici-
pants in these exhibition games were chosen in a qualifying tournament, they were paid a
cash prize of 1,000 pesos (more than $16,000 in 2015) donated by the mayor of the city of
Havana. The award was divided into four equal parts, as Capablanca was also included. For
reasons not clear, most probably involving the old feud between the federations, Planas and
Alemán did not participate in that qualifying tournament, although they were invited.
On January 12, after Capablanca had returned from Pinar del Río, where he went for a
few days’ vacation at the home of Judge Antonio Barreras y Martínez Malo, the chess jour-
nalist Carlos A. Palacio called him to the Sevilla Hotel to inform him of the death of Dr.
Emanuel Lasker, at the age of 72. The previous January 9, a request had appeared in the Brooklyn
Eagle for a blood donation for Lasker, which was responded to by Dr. Joseph Platz. After that,
Hermann Helms published the comment, “Dr. Lasker reacted favorably to the transfusion.” At
the behest of Harold M. Phillips, president of the Manhattan Chess Club, a collection was
started to help pay Lasker’s hospital costs, which the former world champion probably never
knew. This was best, as Lasker was always a man who, even in the worst circumstances, refused
to live off public charity, as Dr. J. Hannak wrote in his biography of Lasker. But Hannak never
clarified what Lasker’s disease was. Obituaries that appeared in the New York Times and the
Brooklyn Daily Eagle indicated that it was an infection of the liver or the bladder.
Nor is it clear in Hannak’s book why Lasker did not return to Moscow from the United
States in 1938. It was attributed to the worsening of his health, which prevented him from
undertaking a journey of that magnitude. Some historians have questioned this explanation
because they consider that the downfall of Prosecutor General Nikolai Krylenko in the midst
of Stalin’s repression targeting sectors of Jewish intelligentsia, was the factor that weighed
in Lasker’s decision not to return to the Soviet Union, without ruling out his sickness. On
Saturday, January 11, at New York’s Mount Sinai Hospital, Lasker ceased to exist. “The King
of the World” was his last whisper to Reuben Fine, who visited him one day before his death,
according to Hannak.
When Capablanca learned of the death of his old rival he told Palacio: “You can say
that of all the masters I’ve known in the world, Lasker was the best.” Palacio published the
comment in the Havana newspaper El Mundo on January 18, 1941, remarking that such
brevity was typical of the laconic Cuban. One or two days later, Capablanca called Palacio
by phone and said to him: “Look for paper and pencil because I am going to dictate to you
an article about Lasker.” Such dictation was the essential basis of two full pages with numerous
illustrations that the newspaper El Mundo, with the byline of Palacio, dedicated to Lasker
on February 14, 1941. Capablanca took the text from his interview with the magazine El
Gráfico (September 15) of Buenos Aires in 1939, where he deeply praised Lasker.26 The night
of January 18, during the dinner to commemorate his taking possession of the new leadership
of the National Chess Federation at the Inglaterra Hotel Banquet Hall, Capablanca and the
other assistants kept a minute of silence in honor of the great German master.
The relationship of more than 35 years (1905–1941) between Capablanca and Lasker
had its tense moments, but despite the misunderstandings caused by the chess rivalry, it was
evident that there was a mutual respect and admiration between them. It was in Lasker’s
Chess Magazine, February 1905, that the word “Master” was first ascribed to Capablanca
(though the significance is debatable). There, Lasker or a member of the staff used fragments
of an article by Hermann Helms that had appeared in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle on January
8, 1905. In Helms’s chronicle the text said: “He [Capablanca] is now an American attending
the Woodycliff School at South Orange, N.J.” The Lasker’s magazine article replaced the
pronoun “He” with the denomination “Master,” in the following way: “Master Capablanca
is now sixteen years of age and is a pupil of the Woodcliff School, of South Orange.” It
should be noted that it was common in the United States of that era to use the term “Master”
for a boy not old enough to be called “Mister”; this seems the likeliest explanation.
On May 10, Capablanca accompanied Dr. Rosendo Romero to the town of Bejucal,
bordering on Havana City, where the latter offered a simultaneous display. Capablanca’s par-
ticipation was limited to making the opening move on the board of Professor Miguel
Valladares Faulín, but the original invitation was for Capablanca to conduct the demonstra-
tion. According to Palacio, he also gave a simultaneous exhibition originally accepted by
Capablanca, who later withdrew because of his health problems. Meanwhile Alekhine’s news
from Europe brought the Cuban yet another surprise. On March 22, a United Press dispatch
from Lisbon gave details as to why it was in the interest of the world champion to finally
celebrate the match for the world championship of chess against the Cuban:
Lisbon, March 22 (UP)—Before a large group of enthusiastic chess players of this city, Alexan-
der Alekhine, current world champion of the game, said he is willing to enter into negotiations
to hold a rematch against José Raúl Capablanca of Cuba, at stake to be the title that he won by
beating the Cuban Grandmaster several years ago.
Alekhine, who arrived at eleven in the morning from France, said that his wife, who is Ameri-
can, was trying to recover what was left in the villa that they possessed in Paris. [Actually in St.-
Aubin-le Cauf, near the coastal city of Dieppe.] The villa was occupied by the Germans after a
large number of refugees had passed through it. The veteran chess player was with the French
government until his demobilization as an interpreter. Then he needed nine months to obtain
the necessary exit permits and finally managed to leave for Portugal thanks to the efforts of the
Ministry of Foreign Affairs of that country.
Questioned by journalists, Alekhine said that although he had a visa in his passport to travel
to Brazil, he will remain in Lisbon some time to rest and practice chess a little, in order to be
ready for his next match with the Cuban Capablanca, which according to him, will take place
anywhere and at any time as it best suits both. Monday, Dr. Alekhine will be received by the
Cuban Minister in this city, and it is expected that the procedures for the holding of this impor-
tant event will be initiated.27
Five days later, it was confirmed that Alekhine visited the Cuban Embassy in Portugal
and met with the ambassador, which El Mundo published March 27 under a wrong headline:
“Alekhine finally challenges Capablanca”: “Lisbon, March 26 (AP)—The Cuban diplomatic
representative received today the visit of Dr. Alekhine, World Chess Champion, who visited
the Legation to launch a challenge to Capablanca in order to organize a rematch for the
title. The Cuban diplomatic representative suggested to the chess champion to write a chal-
lenge letter that he would immediately send to Havana.” But the dispatch caused no com-
motion in the Cuban capital. In Carteles and El Mundo the match that the journalists were
interested in was Capablanca’s against Blanco, Romero and Fernández León. Only Enrique
Corzo, Jr., spent a few words on Alekhine’s proposals in Carteles, April 13, the same issue in
which appeared a photograph of Planas in his famous “Charge of the 600” at the Hotel
Nacional, in a graphic news page.28
The Havana press did not publish anything more about Alekhine’s travels. In this new
opportunity, Mariné told Capablanca that he would authorize the visa for the world cham-
pion, but he would not pay for his travel to Cuba. Capablanca calculated that Alekhine
might not have the slightest chance of meeting those expenses, and recommended they be
paid if the Russian-French master promised to play the match at an immediate date. “In that
case,” replied Mariné, “you must tell us which institutions are going to cover the Champi-
onship funding, for us to request the corresponding credit with the idea to offer Dr. Alekhine
some amount that will help him make the trip.”29
The last hope of Capablanca was to revive the issue of the funds approved by the Con-
gress of Cuba in 1938. With such an economic base, the support of the Hotel Nacional, 30
as well as the contribution of important figures of Cuban politics and the economy, as hap-
pened before in 1919 and 1921, the match could be performed. Capablanca found in this
latest offensive the support of Figueredo, who was joined by Luis Gómez Wangüemert,
another major figure in Cuban journalism. Both called for, in their news articles, the dis-
bursing of the credit approved for the world championship in the dates and proportions
that Capablanca set. But this call stumbled across the obstacle that since October 10, 1940,
there was a new Congress and another president in Cuba, both elected after the adoption
of a new Constitution that year. Capablanca, anyway, did not trust Alekhine’s words.
As time passed, the former president Laredo Bru and his former minister of finances
Manuel Giménez Lanier were accused of having taken these funds. But these charges were
never proven. To the failure of those efforts, Alekhine contributed statements of wanting to
face Samuel Reshevsky in the United States for the world championship, whereupon the
suspicion grew that his real interest was to leave Europe under any premise. The indifference
in Cuba was also the reason why Capablanca flew, deeply disillusioned, toward Miami, bound
for New York. Years later, Olga would remember that many times he spent weeks without
talking to anyone, not even with her, in what a psychiatrist might call a severe depression.
The physician Gómez Gimeránez, who examined Capablanca again in Havana in 1940,
recommended that he put himself under the care of Dr. A. Schwartzer in Manhattan, whom
Gimeránez knew personally, as both offered lectures on dynamic arterial tension at Columbia
Capablanca’s last entry record to the United States, issued by United States Customs, at Miami
Airport, on May 27, 1941. In his last trips between Cuba and the States, Capablanca regularly
used Pan American Airways to fly to Havana (author’s collection).
University. Capablanca began seeing Schwartzer around the date of his 52nd birthday, on
November 19, 1940, when his blood pressure was on the verge of an outbreak, between 210
for the systolic or high, and 180 for the diastolic or low. With the treatment, it fell to 180
over 130, still at a very dangerous level. But after his return from Cuba in 1941, when appar-
ently all had lost meaning for him, plus the lack of interest of the Chess Federation of the
United States to promote the championship match, his blood pressure worsened suddenly,
with the high between 200 to 240, and the low above 160.
A hard blow to the rematch between Capablanca and Alekhine ensued with the pub-
lication of the anti–Semitic articles “Aryan and Jewish Chess” that, with the signature of the
world champion, appeared between March 18 and 23, 1941, in the official organ of the Ger-
man occupation of France, the Pariser Zeitung, published in German. Alekhine defended
himself against those articles in 1944, just after the liberation of Paris, and said that they
were distorted by the authorities of Nazi propaganda. On September 27, 1941, from New
York, Capablanca wrote Figueredo about his suspicions of the true intentions of Alekhine
on his trip to America:
The news about Alekhine is not new for me: but everything that comes from that man must be
taken with care. I know he would play with me today because he is desperate to leave Europe; but
for that he would ask double the amount he would ask to play with Reshevsky, with whom he
really wants to play. All this must stay between us, because we shouldn’t miss the opportunity to
try to work things out. On the other hand, I have private reports that make me believe that it
would be very difficult for Mr. Alekhine to obtain a visa to this country. As I have been
informed, he wrote a chess article in a Dutch newspaper attacking Jews in general, and at the
same time the English. I think that all of this has been done with the idea of currying favor with
the Germans. As I have said, he has gone to Germany to participate in a tournament there. It is
clear that this situation lends itself to negotiate, advantageously, a match in Cuba for the Cham-
pionship. I hope to have cleared the topic for the purposes that you consider suitable…. For you,
a big hug from your friend J.R. Capablanca [letter courtesy of the archives of Rolando Sánchez,
Havana].
On November 6th, Capablanca granted a request to play a simultaneous exhibition at

the Marshall Chess Club. Hermann Helms announced the activity in the Brooklyn Daily
Eagle (November 6, 1941), without imagining that it would be the last in the Cuban’s life.
Twenty six years ago chess enthusiasts from near and far fairly swamped the Eagle Auditorium to
watch Jose R. Capablanca play simultaneously 84 opponents at 65 boards. This evening at the
Marshall Chess Club in Manhattan, the former world chess champion will take on all comers in
a similar test. He will play at 30 boards or even more, up to the limit of the club capacity.
Helms said that the entire main floor will be given over to the performance. According
to his experience, the exhibition will be at its most crowded after 8 o’clock, full of spectators.
Helms remembered that the Cuban’s greatest feat in New York occurred ten years before, in
1931, at the Seventh Regiment Armory, when he faced 200 opponents at 50 boards.
But the anguish of the war in Europe and the increasing tension with Japan made Helms’
predictions too optimistic. Only 22 fans came that evening to play against the man who just
a few years ago would have caused a congested crowd. Capablanca was introduced by Louis
J. Wolff, of Brooklyn, his former teammate from Columbia University. When the exhibition
started there were 21 rivals, but Mona May Karff, former United States Women’s Chess
Champion and the strongest female player in the country, appeared in the club and was
invited to take a board. Karff, who would recover her title in a few weeks, was very lucky in
her victory against the Cuban because she had a totally lost position. It is interesting to
observe that two of the last three losses of Capablanca in exhibitions were against female
rivals: Maria T. Mora, Havana, May 3, and Mona Karff, New York, November 6.
Apparently the results were good: 19 wins, 2 losses and 1 draw (Theodore Angel), but
there were several serious symptoms of decline in the playing style of the former champion,
reflections of his gloom. It was true that it was nothing more than a simultaneous display, but
what stood out was Capablanca’s lack of concentration and the loss of his sublime sense of
positional understanding that had accompanied him during a great part of his career. An
ominous detail was his defeat by Joseph Lewis, in which the latter showed a gift for combi-
nation in several phases of the game, culminating his work with an attack that included a
rook sacrifice. When Lewis transferred his queen to h5 on move 36, it was also the last time
that someone gave checkmate to Capablanca, perhaps an omen of what would soon happen
in real life. For many of the old timers of the club it was a surprise to see the extreme slowness
of Capablanca’s pace which took four hours to complete the exhibition, sweating and dubious
of his moves. Years before he would have completed the task in less than half that time.
Despite all of this, one of his victories still evoked better moments.
Capablanca–Henry O. Forsberg [D94]

Simultaneous Exhibition, New York, 6 November 1941
1. e3 g6 2. d4 Bg7 3. Nf3 d5 4. c4 e6 5. Nc3 Nf6 6. Be2 0–0 7. 0–0 b6 8. c×d5 e×d5
9. Ne5 c5 10. b3 Ba6 11. Ba3 Re8 12. B×a6 N×a6 13. f4 c×d4 14. e×d4 Nc7 15. Rc1 a6
Better is 15. … Ne4 with an even game. 16. f5 Nb5 17. f×g6 h×g6 18. Bb4 N×d4? An
incorrect combination; better is 18. … N×c3 19. R×c3 Ne4 20. Rcf3 and White has only
a minimum advantage. 19. Q×d4 Nd7 20. N×d5 Capablanca missed the opportunity to
finish the game brilliantly with 20. R×f7! N×e5 (if 20. … R×e5 21. Rcf1 Qe8 22. R×g7+
K×g7 23. N×d5 Ra7 24. Bc3 winning. If 20. … B×e5 21. Q×d5 B×h2+ 22. K×h2 Qh4+
23. Kg1 Re1+ 24. Rf1 discovered check, winning) 21. R×g7+ K×g7 22. N×d5 winning.
wDwDqiwD 20. … R×e5 Better is 20. … N×e5 21. Qf2 f5 22. Rfd1 Re4
Dw$nDwDw 23. Bc3 Stronger was 23. Ne7+ R×e7 24. B×e7 Q×e7 25. Rc7
p0wDwDpD Rd8 26. Qd2 winning. 23. … Rc8 24. B×g7 R×c1 25. R×c1
DwDNDpDw K×g7 26. Rc7 Kf8 26. … Re6 was more tenacious, but after
wDwDrDwD 27. Qg3 White has a winning game. 27. Qd2 Qe8 (see diagram)
DPDwDwDw 28. Nf6! Re1+ 29. Kf2 Re2+ There was nothing else to do.
PDw!wDP) 30. Q×e2 Q×e2+ 31. K×e2 N×f6 32. Rc6 Nd5 33. Rd6 Black
DwDwDwIw resigned. 1–0
After 27. … Qe8
The depressed state of Capablanca was worsened by the
news of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, on December 7, 1941, and the entry of the
United States into the Second World War. This turn of events proved decisive. Capablanca
surely thought that his long battle of almost 15 years for the rematch had expired. His only
relief was when an American journalist of Argentinian origins, Eloy “Buck” Canel, invited
him to offer a series of radio lectures on chess for the National Broadcasting Company,
through its shortwave programs, where Canel was the head of its Latin American section.
He was already a well known figure on the radio with his broadcasts of the baseball World
Series in Spanish to Latin America. His fame grew later to the level of a star of the first mag-
nitude with the show Cabalgata Deportiva Gillette (Gillette Sporting News), which began
airing on television with the Major League baseball games, as well as the World Series from
1951. Canel was posthumously admitted to the United States Baseball Hall of Fame in 1985.
Perhaps Canel knew about the experiences of Capablanca in the Buenos Aires radio stations
L.O.O. and L.O.R. in 1927. When he introduced Capablanca to the listeners, Canel said to him
that surely, after so many years of battle on the board, he knew much about chess, to which
the former champion replied: “I have learned a pawn.”31 Capablanca’s lectures ended abruptly
on Thursday, February 19, 1942. Neither in the last week of February nor in early March did
Capablanca go to the station, possibly because of the worsening of his health condition. The
cycle of lectures was concluded when Capablanca rounded the last one with a portrait of the
Hungarian master Géza Maróczy, and made no reference to the fact that he was finishing his
talks that day. The end was changed in subsequent editions that were made into book form,
but in the original copies of the scripts, lecture number 26 ends with Maróczy’s portrayal. In
the first edition of the book in English, in 1966, the final chapter concluded with the analysis
of Capablanca’s game against André (or Endré) Steiner in the Budapest tournament of 1928.
On Friday, March 6, Capablanca visited Dr. Schwartzer for the last time. That day his
blood pressure was above 200. The doctor told him to remain lying down all the time that
he could; to avoid all unnecessary effort; to maintain a strict diet; but especially to relax his
body and mind. The response of the Cuban did not leave doubts about his mood. “To my
regret,” wrote Schwartzer in a letter to Olga, “Mr. Capablanca replied that at the moment
he was absolutely unable to obey me as he had some terrible troubles with his former wife
and children.” The Cuban told him that they had begun a legal procedure against him, so
he would have to fight against these unreasonable demands. Schwartzer warned him that if
he did not comply with these instructions, his life was in grave danger. For the doctor, Capa-
blanca’s health was not deteriorating from day to day, but hour by hour.32
Saturday, March 7, was one of those days with miserable weather that New Yorkers accept
with resignation. At least the forecast promised an improvement for Sunday, with a warm tem-
perature of 65 degrees Fahrenheit (18° Celsius), which meant the first glimmer of spring in the
saddest winter the city remembered in a long time. So for several hours more the New Yorkers
would have to endure this fine and persistent rain typical of March, with temperatures of
around 40 degrees Fahrenheit (4½° Celsius) and a high rate of humidity. The anguish of war
was reflected in the faces of the city’s residents. Almost all the foreign news that arrived were
bad omens. The daily edition of the New York Times, severely censored, recognized that the
exhausted defenders of the Indonesian island of Java were retreating because of the continuous
harassment of the Japanese. Other information sought to balance the grim military episodes
with optimistic statements. In one of them, U.S. General Douglas MacArthur assured every-
one that his pilots had caused thousands of casualties to the Japanese invaders in Subic Bay
in the Philippines. Another war press release mentioned a large naval force heading to rein-
force Australia. But the truth knocked mercilessly at the gate, as parents and wives of soldiers
and sailors continued to receive telegrams reporting the deaths of their sons and husbands.
Another four cargo vessels were known to have been sunk by German submarines off the
coast of Delaware and in the Caribbean.
The war dispatches occupied many interior pages, but in one or another part reporters
opened up with other information that tried to recall instants when life was normal. One of
them mentioned that in an intimate ceremony in the elegant Pierre Hotel of New York, the
daughter of Dominican ruler Leónidas Trujillo, Flor, married an elegant city gentleman, Dr.
Maurice Marshall Beck. In reviews of music, Olin Downes praised Yehudi Menuhin for his
“brilliancy of tones and authority of style in the performance of Dvořák’s violin concerto,” at
Carnegie Hall, just across the street from the Capablancas. In the sports section, baseball fans
knew that the superstar Joe DiMaggio did not go the day before to spring training in St. Peters-
burg, Florida, offended by an increase in his salary of just $2,500 (more than $40,000 in
2015). Although the offer by his team, the New York Yankees, boosted DiMaggio to $40,000
(about $650,000) a year, he figured that it was a poor reward for his 1941 season, when he
batted .357 and established a still existing record by hitting safely in 56 consecutive games.
Invited by some friends, Capablanca, accompanied by Olga, faced the cold drizzle and
attended a dinner that evening. Upon his return home, his headaches became stronger than
usual, so the couple turned away from the routine they had established of going together to
the nearby Manhattan Chess Club, where they spent many nights playing pinochle, a card
game that Capablanca learned at Columbia University. For old Columbia students, pinochle
became a sort of sacred rite of loyalty and pride, as it identified them as part of an exclusive
group of that alma mater.33
Capablanca wrongly thought the cool air would relieve his discomfort and walked to
the Manhattan Chess Club, as if destiny led him there to glance for the last time upon those
chess pieces he had handled with such magic. It was a short walk. In October 1941, the insti-
tution had been moved from the Alamac Hotel, at 71st Street and Broadway, to 100 Central
Park South, five minutes from his apartment. (On October 8, 1941, the Manhattan Chess
Club inaugurated its new premises with the presence of Capablanca and Marta Lasker as
the main celebrities, as well other historic figures of American chess, such as the veteran
Albert B. Hodges, who among his stories, told of being one of the hidden operators of the
Ajeeb Automaton. Many of the persons at the October 8 affair had been surprised to discover
that Capablanca did not honor with his presence the select list of 10 participants in the blitz
tournament of 10 seconds per move that was held to highlight the opening ceremony, where
shone the names of Reuben Fine, Isaac Kashdan, Arnold Denker and Isaac Horowitz.)
The likely route Capablanca took the night of Saturday, March 7, 1942, on the way to
the Manhattan Chess Club was going west on 57th Street, turning right on Seventh Avenue
to head north for two blocks until 59th Street, called Central Park South. At that corner he
would have turned once again to the right, so that after a few more steps he entered the club
some time after 9 p.m. Apparently he did not find his regular card-playing fellows, so Capa-
blanca sat in front of the chess table where two regular amateurs of the place, Charles Saxon
and Sidney Kenton, were playing.34
What happened that night is better known from the narration of Alfred A. Link, a
club veteran, to the news agency Associated Press, which he later amplified to Cuban diplo-
mat Carlos G. Peraza.35 The AP was more detailed than the New York Times version of March
9, although some data, such as the time Capablanca arrived, differ from the ones that
appeared in the newspaper. It is possible that Peraza’s story is more accurate. According to
what the diplomat wrote, Capablanca said to Link that he did not feel very well because all
week he had suffered strong headaches. The external appearance of the Cuban confused
Link, who said that he seemed healthy, without knowing of course what had happened the
previous day in Schwartzer’s medical office. As was customary, Capablanca hid his true emo-
tional state, and according to Link, the Cuban even made some jokes about the moves of
both rivals. Such was the public façade of Capablanca, even in his worst moments.
That evening, as noted in the New York Times, Capablanca did not take off his coat in
the club, perhaps a sign that his headaches had worsened and he had thought to go back home.
“Suddenly,” explained Link, “he stood up exclaiming with a weak and distressing voice: ‘Help
me to take off my coat!’” It was also asserted that he said: “I have an unbearable headache.”
Abruptly, according to the account of Link to Peraza, “his face shrank and his eyes acquired
the glassy color caused by suffocation. When he collapsed on the floor, all of us extended
our arms towards him, and conducted his inert body toward a sofa.” There, apparently, he
still had time to whisper to them to bring him paper and pencil, obsessed by trying to make
his will clear. He apparently did not have time to fulfill his wish. All indications are that he
immediately fell into a coma from which he never awoke. He lay unconscious until he was
attended some minutes later by Dr. Eli Moscowitz, who called an ambulance after under-
standing the seriousness of the case. When the telephone rang at number 228–7634 in Olga’s
apartment, she left immediately for the club and arrived when Capablanca was unconscious.
Doctors who examined him in the Mount Sinai emergency room diagnosed he was in
a serious condition, in a coma so deep that he did not react to stimuli. The dilation of his
pupils was uneven; one of them, the left, was insensitive to light; he had facial paralysis and
a blood pressure of 280 over 140. In the opinion of Dr. Orlando Hernández-Meilán, “The
acute, severe, destructive and massive hemorrhagic stroke suffered by the former World Chess
Champion was a lethal event. In spite of the emergency treatment that he received, he could
not have been saved.” The power of the stroke was so strong that according to Dr. Hernán-
dez-Meilán, “he was beyond the point of no return, not only at the time, but would have
been even today.”36
Even without the delay in waiting for the arrival of Dr. Moscowitz and the ambulance,
that period of time would have made no difference in the final outcome. At 6 a.m. on March
8, according to the official autopsy issued by the hospital, José Raúl Capablanca died.
The first report of his death, issued a few hours later by the Associated Press, was a very
hard blow to his friends in all parts of the world. An urgent phone call notified his daughter
Gloria de los Ángeles and son José Raúl, Jr.,37 at the Hotel Presidente in Havana, where his
ex-wife Gloria lived with her children while she rented out her Buena Vista house. The New
York Times in its obituary of the Cuban champion, appearing a day after his demise, said
that Capablanca was one of the best chess players ever, while it pointed out that he had been
a great find for Cuba in the diplomatic service. The Washington Post regretted that geniuses
like him seemed to be disappearing from the human species. On the other side of the Atlantic,
the London Times (March 10, 1942) praised his integrity and high reputation. “As very few
of the remaining masters of chess he seemed to all that he was a man who would have been
able to succeed in any career he had chosen.” British Chess Magazine explained that Capa-
blanca had captured the public’s imagination and thus gave new life to chess.
Alekhine learned of the sad event while he was in Germany, where the directors of the
Grossdeutsche Schachbund, a new state-supported chess federation, asked him a month later
to give in Frankfurt on April 12, 1942, a talk on Capablanca in which he explained three of
the former world champion’s games on a demonstration board.38 Many years later, in 1980,
appeared his posthumous commentaries on the Cuban: “Capablanca was snatched from the
chess world much too soon. With his death we have lost a very great chess genius whose like
we shall never see again.”39
According to Yacob Rokhlin40: Mikhail Botvinnik was in the Urals when an acquain-
tance approached and said, alarmed: “Have you listened to the radio? Capablanca has died.”
The information caused such an emotional reaction in Botvinnik that he was momentarily
speechless. When in New York a reporter from United Press International called to tell
Frank J. Marshall, on March 9, his old rival stated: “The chess world mourns Capablanca
today. In the coming centuries his name will be remembered and his playing system will be
continued. This will be the eternal monument to his glory.”
Official cablegram notice of Capablanca’s death. The Cuban Ambassador in Washington informs
the Cuban Secretary of State and asks what to do with the corpse (author’s collection).
At noon on March 8, the Cuban ambassador in the United States, Aurelio Fernández
Concheso, sent a cable to Havana to the secretary of state in which he officially reported the
death and asked for instructions.
EGVZ7 WASHINGTON DC 19 CUBANGOVT8TH 12:48 pm.
HAVANA BASKET
24. This morning died commercial attaché Capablanca. I wait for you to tell me or Cuban con-
sul NY what to do with the corpse.
Concheso.
The cable was received at the Foreign Ministry at 1:22 p.m. Next day Havana responded
to its ambassador in Washington: “610 your 24. We gave telephone instructions Cuban Con-
sul New York embalm body and prepare everything to bring it to Cuba [Expenses] will be
paid by this Government. Engineer Aquiles Capablanca embarked yesterday with facilities
offered by this Ministry to arrange [all the details] with Consul in New York and to accom-
pany corpse [to] Cuba.”41
The wake for Capablanca was held at the Cooke Funeral Home, at 117 West 72nd
Street in Manhattan, until the moment in which his body, in a coffin of steel, was taken to
Penn Station, to be sent to Miami, where one of the ferries of the regular service to Havana
would transport it to Cuba.42 That Thursday, the ferry that was to take the body of Capa-
blanca in a railway carriage was detained in Miami’s port. Its late departure was not due to
a breakdown, as stated, but because on Thursday, March 12, and Friday, March 13, a general
alarm was proclaimed in the coastal waters of Florida, the Bahamas and Cuba. A German
submarine sank the American-flagged tanker Colabee a few miles north of the Cuban port
of Nuevitas, from which it had departed with a cargo of sugar and other products. Other
dispatches pointed to the presence of German submarines in the keys off the northern coast
of Cuba, as well as in the vicinity of the cities of Caibarién and Matanzas, the latter in the
middle of the sea route from Miami to Cuba.
The delay of a day in the departure of the ferry shuttle complicated the arrangements
for the state funeral schedule by the authorities in Cuba, who were awaiting the body of
Capablanca on the afternoon of Friday, March 13. That day, more than 300 people waited
in vain for the arrival of his remains at the Arsenal Docks, but wartime censorship did not
allow disclosing boats’ schedules or names. The people of Havana, however, knew the hours
at which ferries usually arrived from Key West and Miami.
Shortly after 2 p.m. on Saturday, March 14, more than two hours late, perhaps due to
zigzag-sailing because of the threat of German submarines, the ferry shuttle lowered its speed
approaching the city of Havana and now, barely heaving, while her propeller’s frothy wake
died out, stood in front of the old silhouette of the Morro Castle. The officer in charge of
the port maritime traffic ordered to half-mast the Cuban flag that waved at the top of the
fortress when the ferry shuttle resumed its slow pace. The solemn drama mixed with the
relentless routine of centuries.
It was just another boat avoiding the reef and currents through the narrow entrance of
the bay.
Epilogue
On March 14, 1942, the corpse of José Raúl Capablanca was held at a wake for less than
an hour in the Cuban capitol, home of the Congress, with the honors of “Colonel Fallen in
Campaign,” the maximum posthumous honor in the army on the island. On the chest of his
dark blue suit was placed the medal of the order “Carlos Manuel de Céspedes,” then the
supreme award of the Republic of Cuba. It was only the second time ever granted, after Gen-
eralissimo Máximo Gómez, commander in chief of the Cuban Independence Army. The
sculptor Florencio Gelabert barely had time to make a death mask. When he completed his
task, the public was allowed to enter the premises for a very brief time.
Among the members of the first guard of honor were his son José Raúl Jr. and his broth-
ers Ramiro, Fernando Aquiles and Carlos. In the second guard were his friends from the
Cuban National Chess Federation, Mario Figueredo and Armando Bucelo. The third and
last honor guard was made up of such government figures as Vice President Gustavo Cuervo
Rubio; José Agustín Martínez, Minister of Education; José Manuel Cortina, Minister of
State; as well as the former president of Cuba José Barnet. President Fulgencio Batista, elected
democratically to the post in 1940, did not attend the funeral but sent a wreath of flowers.
The band and a company of the army accompanied the corpse from the capitol to the
Necropolis of Colón, a distance of three and one-half miles (5.7 kilometers). The procession
took a shorter and unusual route to the cemetery, whose regulations did not allow burials
after 6:00 p.m. Because of the change of itinerary, hundreds of people who were waiting for
its passage along the usual route were left waiting for it. In its impromptu tour the funeral
cortege passed the foot of the hill of the Castillo del Príncipe fortress, where Capablanca
had been born 53 years earlier.
On behalf of the family, a farewell speech was made by Vice President Cuervo Rubio,
an old schoolmate of José Raúl’s brother Ramiro. The minister of education spoke for the
government. Capablanca was buried shortly before sunset. His body was laid in the tomb
his father bought in a very special month and year of his life, April 1921, when José Raúl was
proclaimed world chess champion.
Four decades later, Florencio Gelabert sculpted a chess king which the family consented
to be placed on the tomb, and today is a distinctive symbol. The tomb is situated in the
first quadrant, 8th corridor between the alleys A and B in the northwest part of the grave-
yard, close to the main entrance, the exterior wall and Zapata Street.1 José Ignacio Rivero,
publisher of Diario de la Marina and a friend of Capablanca, suggested engraving on the
white marble the epitaph: “Here lies Capablanca, not infatuated by the universal applause
or blinded by the light of his genius,” but his suggestion was not taken into consideration.
477
478 EPILOGUE
Instead there rests on the tombstone a simple flower vase with the inscription: “José Raúl
Capablanca, 1888–1942.” While the coffin was lowered into the grave, a squad of riflemen
fired three volleys into the air, after which there was a profound silence interrupted only by
the distant sound of the birds that took flight frightened by the noise.
Alexander Alekhine survived Capablanca a little more than four years. Like the Cuban,
the Russian-French master also died in the month of March, and also at 53 years of age. Both
died suddenly, as did Morphy. But unlike Capablanca or Morphy’s death, which caused no
controversy about its cause, Alekhine’s has been the subject of enormous speculation. In
March 1956, the remains of Alekhine were exhumed in Portugal, where he had died, and
moved to the Montparnasse cemetery in Paris.
The first wife of Capablanca, Gloria Simoni Betancourt, lived until February 23, 1996,
when she died in Miami, Florida, in a nursing home after a long illness. She never married
again and had a life very distant from the limelight of her former husband. She lived devoted
to her children and grandchildren, who called her “Tatatona” or “Mama Bella” (Beautiful
Mother). Rafael Palacios Capablanca, the only son of her daughter Gloria de los Ángeles,
remembered her as if she were a widow. At least that was what he believed as a child, because
his grandmother always dressed as in eternal mourning and seldom went to parties; but she
was not a bitter woman and was very sweet with her grandchildren. It was not until many
years later, while reading a newspaper, that Rafael learned that his grandfather was married
to another woman when he died.
Gloria Simoni survived her son José Raúl Jr. by 12 years. Nobody told her that Tuto
had died in Cuba in 1984. Sometimes during lucid periods she remembered her long-distant
past and told her granddaughter Mercedes anecdotes of the family, the flowers and the trunk
of gifts given to her husband. Several times she confused Mercedes’s husband with Capa-
blanca and told her, “My husband is here.” One day during a party for the nursing home
patients, Mercedes asked her: “Granma, don’t you want to dance?” And she responded: “My
husband never dances; we never danced.”2 At that time of her life she never mentioned Capa-
blanca as her former husband, but always as if they were still married. She was survived by
her daughter Gloria de los Ángeles by more than a decade; Gloria de los Ángeles died, also
in Miami, on October 9, 2007. She had married Rafael Palacios Moreno and had four chil-
dren, Gloria, Alicia,3 María and Rafael.
For Olga Capablanca-Chagodaef, life was not easy in the first years after the loss of her
husband in 1942. Her troubles were palpable in a letter of December 15, 1943, to Mario
Figueredo. In it, she wrote in a kind of cryptic way:
They tell me from everywhere that I should write my book on José Raúl. But still I cannot do so
in an objective manner. There are too many bitter things and cruel truths. It is very difficult to
talk about his life without explaining situations and very painful things to mention. You know
what we have suffered. However, I remember the words of Raúl just days before his death. “I
want the whole truth to come to light one day” [Figueredo-Romero Archives].
On June 26, 1944, Olga wrote again to Figueredo to give him the address of her sister,
with whom she had moved in, because she had not enough resources to keep the 57th Street
apartment in New York: “Throughout this time I have maintained all by myself the apart-
ment where Raul lived. It hurts me a lot not to have the means to send flowers to the cemetery.
I have been very poor all this time especially in the last two years since I have maintained
the apartment. It was too much for me, almost crazy on my part.” In those months Figueredo
was managing the business end of an article she had written about the Nottingham tourna-
Epilogue 479
ment that was published in Cuba. She asked him, from the payment for such collaboration,
to “deliver the first ten pesos to my sister [in-law] Zenaida to buy flowers for the grave of
my husband”( Figueredo-Romero Archives).
Olga remarried twice, but the memory of José Raúl was never erased from her mind.
She did not know chess, but the legacy that she left in her writings and memoirs about José
Raúl Capablanca is the most comprehensive and tender tribute ever received by a legend of
the game from his wife. Olga died in New York on April 24, 1994, at the age of 95.
In early 2013 all of Capablanca’s grandchildren were alive, but on May 17 of that year
tragedy struck the family when María Brígida Palacios Capablanca died at the age of 55 in
a car accident in New Mexico, where she lived. Of the seven survivors, two of them are living
in Cuba, the rest in the United States of America, as though imitating the life of their immor-
tal ancestor, who shared his existence between the two countries. In both, José Raúl Capa-
blanca is remembered with respect and admiration.
Capablanca’s Matches
Havana, 1901
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
Capablanca 0 0 ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 1 ½ 1 ½ 0 7
Juan Corzo 1 1 ½ 0 ½ ½ ½ 0 0 ½ 0 ½ 1 6
New York; Morristown, New Jersey;

Scranton and Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, 1909
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
Capablanca ½ 1 ½ ½ 1 1 0 1 ½ ½ 1 1 1
Frank James Marshall ½ 0 ½ ½ 0 0 1 0 ½ ½ 0 0 0
14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23
1 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 15
0 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 8
Havana, 1919
1 2 3 4 5
Capablanca 1 1 1 1 1 5
Boris Kostić 0 0 0 0 0 0
Havana, 1921
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14
Capablanca ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 1 ½ ½ 1 9
Emanuel Lasker ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 0 ½ ½ 0 5
Buenos Aires, 1927

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
Capablanca 0 ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ 0 0 ½
Alexander Alekhine 1 ½ 0 ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ ½ ½ 1 1 ½
… 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26
½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½
½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½
… 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34
½ ½ 1 ½ ½ 0 ½ 0 15½
½ ½ 0 ½ ½ 1 ½ 1 18½
Amsterdam, 1931
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Capablanca ½ ½ 1 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 1 ½ 6
Max Euwe ½ ½ 0 ½ ½ ½ ½ ½ 0 ½ 4
480
Appendix I:
Capablanca on
Four Great Predecessors
During the period of September 3–15, 1927, before he began his match for the world cham-
pionship against Alekhine, Capablanca wrote for the newspaper Crítica of Buenos Aires a series of
articles about the evolution of chess, his predecessors as world champions, and reviews of the great
masters of the past and present.
With respect to those who preceded him as world champion, Capablanca used some ideas
from his article for the Uruguayan chess magazine Mundial in May of that same year, but the scope
of the material published in Crítica went further in length and in some cases in conceptual depth.
These evaluations have never until now been reproduced in any language*; they are presented
here in translation with some necessary editing for continuity. This summary of the opinions of
Capablanca is not complete, because some pages or parts of the newspaper Crítica in the central
library of Buenos Aires could not be copied because of their poor condition.
ADOLPH ANDERSSEN. In 1850, the German Adolph Anderssen began to show his strength,
maintaining supremacy in chess for seven years until he had to resign himself to the superiority of
Paul Charles Morphy. Anderssen was already a great player, as he demonstrated on several occasions,
not only by overcoming serious opponents but also playing games that have endured as remarkable
examples of great powers of combination and a fertile imagination.
It can be said without hesitation that Anderssen was the world’s strongest player until the
advent of Morphy in 1858. At the time of Anderssen there were already some notable players, such
as Harwitz and Paulsen, who began to adopt a slower system of development that contained ideas
completely opposite to those proclaimed and generalized by the strongest previous masters.
So we already frequently have the Queen’s Pawn Opening and the Sicilian Defenses, with the
Paulsen Variation, which have survived until our day, thus demonstrating that the author had a
good idea of what he was doing. The same Anderssen who stood out foremost by the strength of
his combination sense also experienced difficulty sometimes of overcoming resistance from some
of his more renowned opponents when they adopted slow but solid developments.
We have no doubt that his encounters with Morphy must have influenced the mind of the
mathematics professor of the University of Breslau. We do not doubt for a moment that he had
studied and collected the fruits of that study, since after his match against Morphy we see him fight
victoriously in a game in which he mostly considers the “position,” which was understood and
exploited for the first time by the master Morphy.
It was easily understood how a master of the stature of Anderssen [before the advent of Mor-
*At the end of this appendix the original Crítica texts in Spanish are presented as a service to researchers.
481
482 APPENDIX I
phy], reinforcing his play at the most important point, could become a formidable adversary. Log-
ically, his games offer a more harmonious whole and are due to a better designed plan. His style,
of course, was closer to the modern style in those last years. Though, as is natural, there persists the
original trend to the open game and the violent attack.
PAUL MORPHY. Morphy arrived in Europe on June 21, 1858. [The morning of June 20 accord-
ing to David Lawson.] He sailed back to the United States on April 30, 1859. You can say that his
great career as a chess player happened in that space of time, because while it is true that he played
before and after those dates, all his major matches took place during that short period of time.
In the United States prior to that date, he could only find one worthy opponent to play against
him: Louis Paulsen, the famous master who was the first to play 10 simultaneous games without
seeing the board. And after Morphy returned to his homeland, Paulsen embarked to Europe, after
which there was in this part of the globe no player to whom he could not give a material advantage
and still win. This was so true that Morphy refused to play with any of them unless he gave them
knight odds.
It is thus through his encounters with Paulsen in 1857, and in Europe with Löwenthal, Harwitz
and especially Dr. Adolph Anderssen, that we must judge the American grandmaster. One can also
take into consideration other matches he undertook against players of recognized strength in Europe
at that time.
Curiously, if we are to judge Morphy’s strength by most of the books written by historians
and admirers, we would not form as good an opinion of him as he actually deserves. The rival who
could undoubtedly offer the best point of comparison is Professor Anderssen, without dispute a
great player. Morphy played a match against him in Paris and won with the following score: 7 wins,
2 losses, 2 draws.
But, unfortunately, this match took place in conditions not very appropriate for a struggle of
that kind; and circumstances prevented Morphy from carrying out a later visit to Germany, which
would have made possible a second match and offered a greater opportunity for an accurate judg-
ment.
For the Paris match, Dr. Anderssen had to abandon his Easter feast. Arriving in the City of
Light, he found that Morphy was sick in bed—nothing serious, but not in good enough condition
to play the match. Ever the gentleman, Anderssen waited for Morphy to be fit to play, and then,
abruptly, the match was held. I say abruptly, as Dr. Anderssen needed to return to Breslau to resume
his professorship. It is clear that neither of the two adversaries could adequately demonstrate his
strengths.
Despite the small number of matches against opponents worthy of his strength, we have
enough information to make a critical judgment of Morphy’s chess play.
A rigorous review of his games will show us that, like some of the great masters of the modern
era, the American had no weak points of any kind, and that, to win against him, it would have been
necessary to be an adversary like him, flawless and with great powers in one or more aspects of the
game.
Morphy played the openings very well and had an excellent positional understanding, qualities
that put him above the other players of the era, who failed to perceive, unlike Morphy, the great
value of the exact comprehension of this aspect of the game.
The American master was also strong in combinations and in the endgame; he had great
powers of resistance in defense, as well as a great push in the attack, and he accommodated himself
equally to an open game as to a closed one, although he undoubtedly had a marked preference for
open play, as evidenced, more than anything, by his own statements.
Perhaps the only significant weakness perceptible through his actions and statements is a lack
of understanding of the real strength of his opponents.
Various remarks made by him, assertions about which there can be no doubt, seem to indicate
that the American grandmaster did not appreciate at their fair value the remarkable faculties of
Capablanca on Four Great Predecessors 483
some of his opponents, mainly those of the aforementioned Anderssen. And, on the other hand,
the fact that a determined player had a relative success against him influenced his judgment to con-
sider that rival to have greater powers than he actually possessed. That is, it seems as if the American
grandmaster did not have—in terms of the strength and personality of his opponents—the same
perception that he had over the board.
WILHELM STEINITZ. Wilhelm [later, “William”] Steinitz was born in Prague, Bohemia,
on May 17 [i.e., 14], 1836, and was 30 years old when he beat Dr. Anderssen and was proclaimed
world champion, ready to defend his title against any adversary.
Morphy’s games influenced Steinitz in his youth, as they did all players for many years. So that
we can see the new world champion—who later established many of the principles of the so-called
“modern school”—play in a style completely different from the one he would use later in various
games in defense of the scepter.
Until the time he won the world championship, the Bohemian master distinguished himself,
above all, for his enterprising and brilliant play. His desire, like that of all the masters of the time,
was to imitate the style of the great American player, believing, erroneously, that the strength of
Morphy was mainly in the brilliance of the attack, when in reality, as we have said, his superiority
was based more than anything on his knowledge and understanding of the importance of the “posi-
tion.”
It is strange to note that later, when Steinitz was devoted to the study and research of what
he considered to be basic principles of the strategy and tactics of chess, it is strange, we repeat, that
even then—and we could almost say until the end of his life—he persisted in the error of not under-
standing exactly that the great strength displayed by the American master had as its basis the com-
prehension of the value of the “positional” game.
Steinitz was a formidable researcher, and with an admirable perseverance. He devoted himself
with special effort to plumb the secrets of chess. With him we took a big step forward in the history
of the game, perhaps more than with any other player. Many of today’s principles, within the reach
of any outstanding player, were set out and revealed by him for the first time.
His long and deep research throughout his 28-year world championship has formed the basis
for almost all developments of later years. Steinitz stated and explained a large number of principles,
including those relating to the different formations of the pawns. The weakness that was created
when there was a “hole” in the pawn formation, as well as the disadvantage that certain formations
carry, should produce an inferiority in your position that in the course of the game could benefit
your adversary.
He was also the one who proclaimed for the first time the superiority of the bishop over the
knight, and who practiced the general theory that establishes the exploitation of small material
advantages based on the resistance to an attack, often knowingly—e.g., winning a pawn in order
to deliberately submit to an attack which, he believed, would not succeed against a proper defense.
Once the attack was exhausted, he could in turn take the offensive and through his small material
advantage force the game and get the pawn to prevail after any truly dangerous situation resulting
from the attack he had voluntarily endured.
This general idea, which contains a very deep understanding that he put into practice success-
fully for so many years, is a double-edged weapon that needs to be handled with extreme caution.
Unfortunately, towards the end of his reign Steinitz did not always have the necessary equilibrium
to apply this and some other excellent principles and criteria, and carried them to such an extreme
that, so to speak, he turned good principles into small errors, and therefore suffered a number of
defeats that he would perhaps have been able to avoid, if he had proceeded with judiciousness in
the implementation of all these principles.
The Bohemian master was a player of great imagination and extraordinary powers of combi-
nation. After some time, he began however to adopt a system of play that he believed more appro-
priate to the implementation of his premises, and we rarely see the use of those great powers except
484 APPENDIX I
to demolish the combinations of the adversary. His style and another principle he enunciated—
restrain one’s pawns from going beyond the fourth rank and try to place pieces on the farthest two
ranks of the board,1 whenever possible—have served as the basis for the so-called “Hypermodern
School,” which has had recently a marked boom due to the writings of Réti and other prominent
contemporary masters; a school that has already committed the same errors of reasoning that Steinitz
committed only after reaching a certain age. We need to clarify here that we do not want to say with
the foregoing that certain ideas of Steinitz and the “Hypermoderns” are completely wrong, but only
that they have but a share of the truth and, accordingly, the rest necessarily constitutes an error.
What is the good part and what is the bad part? We cannot pretend to explain it in these articles.
This would require a highly technical dissertation with practical examples [original note 1 below].
Talking about Steinitz, what we propose is to draw attention to the following circumstance:
that thanks to his research chess has, in such a short space of time, become what it is today. So to
speak, between the “position” of Morphy and Steinitz’s principles, we have almost all the funda-
mental principles of chess theory.
To complete these principles we will only have to add one or two established by the former
world champion Dr. Lasker, and one or two more established by the author of these lines, all of
which have been exposed in a rigorously clear way in my work Chess Fundamentals, published in
1921.
E MANUEL L ASKER . Emanuel Lasker was born on December 25 [i.e., 24], 1868, at
Berlinchen. He was not yet 26 years old when he beat Steinitz in 1894, in a match for the world
championship, with the score of 10–5. However, it was not until a few years later that the German
master acquired the full measure of his strength.
During Lasker’s reign, chess took the biggest progressive step in its history; an advance not
only because of the projections of the great German master, but also the efforts and investigations
made by his greater competitors.
Lasker was world champion for 27 years and during that time there was a large number of
strong players who, if not for having to oppose the colossal figure of the German master, would
have been easily able to occupy the throne [original note 2 below].
From the above is clearly seen the enormous task of Dr. Lasker in maintaining his superiority
over the years against such a formidable group of masters. The former champion is an extraordinary
fighter, and at the same time, as we have already said, a philosopher of chess. His idea was always
somehow to find the weak point of the adversary, to lead the attack against this weakness. Once
he found any weak point in the armor of an adversary, he had an absolute conviction he could beat
him, because no one before had the ability to exploit any such adversarial deficiencies.
Lasker was also a profound researcher, and it was he who added to general chess theory a very
broad general principle, that one should not violently attack the enemy king without having an
absolute certainty of the success of the attack, or else the absolute certainty that once the attack
was exhausted, one could obtain the balance, so to speak, of the position—or that one could in
some way reposition the pieces once the attack was exhausted to give an overall balance to the
game.
His idea, very fair by the way, was that a failed violent attack, in which the pieces were piled
up, so to speak, in a small part of the board without achieving a greater effect, would produce a
manifest imbalance in the position of the attacker, an imbalance which the opponent could take
advantage of to attack the uncovered side and obtain the victory.
In addition to all this, Lasker expanded and perfected the basic principles set forth by Steinitz.
The former world champion [Lasker] has no weakness in his game. He has lots of imagination and
great powers of combination, and there is no better player than he in the endgame, an aspect in
which, for many years, he had no rival.
Despite his 58 years of age he is, even today [1927], with the possible exception of Dr. Alekhine,
the world’s strongest player.
Note 1: Capablanca, in his foreword to the 1934 reissue of Chess Fundamentals (New York: Harcourt,
Brace) was much more critical of the “Hypermodern School.” There he wrote: “Chess Fundamentals
was first published thirteen years ago. Since then there have appeared at different times a number of ar-
ticles dealing with the so-called Hypermodern Theory. Those who have read the articles may well have
thought that something new, of vital importance, had been discovered. The fact is that the Hypermodern
Theory is merely the application, during the opening stages generally, of the same old principles through
the medium of somewhat new tactics. There has been no change in the fundamentals. The change has
been only a change of form, and not always for the best at that.”
Note 2: Of Lasker’s rivals who could have held the crown, Capablanca referred among others to the
following players (fragments):
Akiba Rubinstein: He came to be regarded, by the years 1911 and 12, as the player of greater knowledge
about the technique of the openings. Endowed with an extraordinary memory for chess, it was said of
him at that time that there was no game played by any master, over a period of 20 years, that he did not
know by heart, in addition to remembering all the games of Morphy, Anderssen, Steinitz, etc. An ad-
mirable strategist, with a deep sense of the “position,” at the same time a grand endgame player, in whose
department he had only as a rival Dr. Lasker.… If the match had been played [against Lasker], Rubinstein
would have failed.
Schlechter: During the reign of Lasker we also have the great Austrian master C. Schlechter, who
came to be regarded as the only possible rival to Dr. Lasker, to the extent of playing a 10-game match in
Vienna, in which the former world champion was on the verge of losing the title, since it was necessary
for him to win the tenth game to tie the match. So that readers will not form an incorrect judgment
about the relative strength of these two great masters, we need to clarify that, in our opinion, Dr. Lasker—
who had to undergo an operation on an eye—resented this very important member and was not at his
height. In addition, the Austrian master was for him what Pillsbury had been previously: an enigma.
The Austrian master actually had no weak points in his armor and with equal dexterity played any style
of play, never forgetting to take the initiative at the earliest opportunity. He was, moreover, of a tem-
perament extremely fair and was left not impressed in the least by any adversary that he might oppose.
Janowski: A great admirer of Morphy, who tried always to imitate the style of the great American
master. A player who feared nothing from any adversary, since he always believed himself able to beat
him. Possessed of the idea that in chess he always had to attack and that the “position” was the only thing
to take into account, he produced as a consequence of the above, and his nervous and aggressive tem-
perament, a series of interesting games, to such an extent that you could hardly find a collection of games
from any master that is more interesting than the collection of games from Janowski for the past 30
years. Some of these games were poor, but in general, even the lost games possessed a special tone that
can only be from the hand of a great master.
Marshall: He is another player who has produced interesting games, and has also been a tenacious
investigator of general openings technique, to such an extent that many of his discoveries remain today
as the best variations in certain positions.
Tarrasch: A highly methodical player and analyst, who has devoted most of his life to deep research
into openings technique and some kinds of endgames. To him is due in large part the established fashion
of investigations in various openings and different kinds of endgames.
Maróczy: In our opinion the top player—back in the years 1900–1906—of all the players of the pe-
riod.
Pillsbury: A deep researcher of openings technique, especially the Ruy Lopez and Queen’s Gambit,
who has left memorable games. He has also been at least the first or the second in the world among
players of simultaneous games without seeing the board. Endowed with a prodigious memory and a re-
silience to the incomparable mental labor, he came, while playing in a major international tournament,
to choose the only day of rest that he had in the week to play against all the players (21 in number)
taking part in a second international tournament. It was one of most remarkable simultaneous sessions
in the history of blind chess, since taking part in the second tournament were players who quickly
revealed the great qualities that place him in the first rank among the top dozen in the world.
486 APPENDIX I
Articulos sobre sus predecesores en Crítica, 1927

A partir de septiembre 3 y hasta septiembre 15 de diado y recogido el fruto de ese estudio, puesto que
1927, antes de que comenzara el match por el campe- [posterior a su encuentro contra Morphy] lo vemos
onato mundial, Capablanca escribió para el periódico luchar victoriosamente con un juego en que ya toma
Crítica de Buenos Aires una serie de artículos sobre la la mayor parte la “posición,” punto que como ya hemos
evolución del ajedrez, sus predecesores, así como dicho, en los artículos anteriores, fue comprendido y
breves valoraciones de los maestros de entonces, explotado, por primera vez, por el maestro Morphy.
incluso Janowski que ya había fallecido. Respecto a Se comprende fácilmente como un maestro de la
quienes le precedieron como campeones mundiales talla de Anderssen [antes del advenimiento de Mor-
utilizó en numerosas ocasiones párrafos, frases e ideas phy] reforzando su juego en el punto más importante,
que tomó de su artículo para la revista de ajedrez se convertiría en un formidable adversario. Sus par-
uruguaya Mundial de mayo de ese propio año, pero el tidas, lógicamente, ofrecen un conjunto más armónico
alcance de lo publicado en Crítica fue mucho más allá y obedecen a un plan mejor concebido. Su estilo, nat-
en tamaño y profundidad conceptual. Esta valoración uralmente, se acerca más en ésos últimos años, al estilo
ampliada de Capablanca sobre sus predecesores nunca moderno. Aunque, como también es natural, persiste
se ha reproducido hasta ahora en ningún idioma. Se la tendencia original al juego abierto y al ataque vio-
agrega aquí con algunas ediciones necesarias pues lento.
debido a que se trataba de un serial y los lectores PAUL MORPHY—Morphy llegó a Europa el 21 de
podían no haber conocido los artículos anteriores, julio de 1858. Embarcó de regreso para los Estados
ciertos datos básicos de continuidad se repetían en Unidos el 30 de abril de 1859. En ese espacio de tiempo
unos y en otros. El resumen actual de las opiniones de puede decirse que está encerrada su gran carrera como
Capablanca sobre sus predecesores abarca sus más ajedrecista, pues si bien es cierto que con anterioridad
importantes comentarios pero no es completo, pues y posterioridad a esas fechas, todos sus matches impor-
algunas de las páginas de Crítica en la biblioteca cen- tantes tuvieron lugar durante ese corto período de
tral de Buenos Aires ya no estaban en condiciones de tiempo.
ser copiadas. Aún así las siguientes valoraciones de En los Estados Unidos con anterioridad a esa fecha,
Capablanca sobre sus predecesores son las más deta- sólo pudo encontrar un jugador digno de enfrentarse
lladas que escribió. con él: Louis Paulsen el famoso maestro que fue el
ADOLF ANDERSSEN—Allá por el año 1850, empezó primer jugador de ajedrez que llegó a jugar diez par-
a demostrar su fuerza el alemán Adolph Anderssen, tidas simultáneas sin ver el tablero. Y después del
que mantuvo la supremacía del ajedrez durante siete regreso de Morphy a su patria, Paulsen se embarcaba
años, hasta que hubo de resignarse ante la superioridad para Europa, con lo cual no quedaba en esta parte del
de Paul Charles Morphy. Anderssen sí era ya un gran globo ningún jugador a quién el maestro que me ocupa
jugador, como pudo demostrarlo en varias ocasiones, no pudiera darle ventaja de material y vencerlo. A tal
no sólo venciendo a serios adversarios sino también extremo era cierto esto que acabamos de decir que el
haciendo partidas que han perdurado como notabilísi- mismo Morphy se negó a jugar con ninguno de ellos,
mos ejemplos de un gran poder de combinación y de a menos de darle la ventaja de un caballo.
una imaginación fecunda. Es pues a través de sus encuentros con Paulsen en
Anderssen, puede decirse sin ningún temor, fue el 1857, y en Europa con Löwenthal, Harwitz y sobre
jugador más fuerte durante algunos años, hasta el todo con el Dr. Adolph Anderssen, que debemos juz-
advenimiento de Morphy en 1858. En la época de gar al gran maestro americano. También se puede
Anderssen había ya algunos notables jugadores como tomar en consideración alguna que otro match jugado
Harwitz y Paulsen, que empezaron a adoptar un sis- en Europa contra jugadores de reconocida fuerza en
tema de desenvolvimiento más lento, que encerraba esa época.
ideas completamente opuestas a las preconizadas y Es curioso que si hemos de juzgar bajo el punto de
generalizadas por los más fuertes maestros anteriores. vista del maestro la fuerza de Morphy a través de la
Así tenemos ya con frecuencia, apertura de la Dama, mayor parte de los libros escritos por sus historiadores
defensas sicilianas con la variante Paulsen, que han per- y admiradores de la época moderna, no formaríamos
durado hasta nuestros días demostrando con ello que su tan buen criterio de él como en realidad merece.
autor tenía muy buena idea de lo que hacía. El mismo El contendiente, que sin duda, debiera ofrecer el
Anderssen que sobresalía más que nada por su poder mejor punto de comparación es el profesor Anderssen,
y concepción general de la combinación, se daba alguna puesto que éste, a su vez, era sin lugar a disputas, un
cuenta de la dificultad que ofrecía vencer la resistencia gran jugador. Morphy jugó con él un match en París
de algunos de sus adversarios más connotados cuando que ganó con el score siguiente: 7 partidas ganadas, 2
éstos adoptaban desenvolvimientos de índole lenta perdidas y 2 tablas.
pero sólidos. Pero, por desgracias, este encuentro se verificó en
No dudamos [que sus encuentros con Morphy] condiciones no muy apropiadas a una lucha de tal
tienen que haber influido en la mente del profesor de índole; y las circunstancias impidieron que Morphy,
Breslau. No dudamos por un instante que haya estu- más adelante, llevara a cabo una visita a Alemania, que
hubiera hecho posible un segundo encuentro que 30 años cuando venció al Dr. Anderssen y se proclamó
habría ofrecido mayor oportunidad para realizar un campeón mundial, dispuesto a defender su título con-
juicio más exacto. tra cualquier adversario.
Para el match de París, el Dr. Anderssen tuvo que Las partidas de Morphy influyeron sobre Steinitz
abandonar su festividad de Pascuas. Al llegar a la ciu- hasta esta época, como lo hicieron sobre todos los
dad Luz, se encontró con que Morphy estaba en cama, jugadores, por muchos años. Así es que vemos al nuevo
enfermo, no de gravedad pero tampoco en buenas campeón mundial—que había más tarde de establecer
condiciones para poder realizar el match. muchos de los principios de la llamada “escuela mod-
Caballerosamente, Anderssen esperó a que Morphy erna”—jugar en un estilo completamente distinto al
estuviera en condiciones para jugar y, entonces, pre- que después había de jugar en las diversas partidas en
cipitadamente, se llevó a cabo el encuentro. Digo pre- defensa del cetro.
cipitadamente, pues el doctor Anderssen, que era Hasta la época que ganó el campeonato, el maestro
profesor de matemáticas de la Universidad de Breslau, bohemio se distinguió, sobre todo, por su juego
tenía necesidad de volver a esa ciudad a hacerse cargo emprendedor y brillante. Su deseo, como el de todos
de la cátedra. los maestros de entonces, era imitar el estilo del gran
Por lo antepuesto, se ve, claramente, que ninguno jugador americano, creyendo, erróneamente, que la
de los dos adversarios podía desarrollar todas sus fuerza de Morphy estribaba, principalmente, en la bril-
grandes facultades. lantez del ataque, cuando en realidad, como lo hemos
A pesar del corto número de matches con adversar- dicho, la superioridad de aquél se fundaba más que
ios dignos de su fuerza, tenemos suficiente para poder nada en su conocimiento y comprensión de la impor-
hacer un juicio crítico de la obra ajedrecística del gran tancia de la “posición.”
maestro americano. Es raro notar que más adelante, cuando Steinitz se
Un examen riguroso de sus partidas nos demostrará dedicó al estudio y a la investigación de los que él con-
que al igual de algunos de los grandes maestros de la sideraba como principios elementales de la estrategia
época moderna, el americano no tenía punto débil de y táctica del ajedrez, es raro, repetimos, que aun
ninguna clase, y que, para ganarle, hubiera sido nece- entonces –y casi podríamos decir, hasta el final de su
sario un adversario como él, sin fallas y con mayores vida, haya persistido en el error de no comprender
poderes en uno o más departamentos del juego. exactamente que la gran fuerza desplegada por el maes-
Morphy jugaba muy bien las aperturas y tenía una tro americano había tenido como base, la comprensión
comprensión excelente de la ‘posición,’ cualidad ésta del gran valor del juego de “posición.”
que lo ponía por encima de los demás jugadores de la Steinitz era un investigador formidable, y de una
época, los cuales no llegaban en aquél entonces a com- perseverancia admirable. Se dedicó con especial
prender, como Morphy, el gran valor de la compren- empeño, a profundizar los secretos del ajedrez. Con él
sión exacta de este departamento del juego. damos un gran paso de avance en la historia del juego,
El maestro americano era fuerte, también, en las quizás más que con ningún otro jugador. Muchos de
combinaciones y en los finales; tenía gran poder de los principios de hoy día al alcance de cualquier
resistencia en la defensa, como gran empuje en el jugador aventajado, fueron enunciados y expuestos por
ataque, y lo mismo se amoldaba a un juego abierto que él por primera vez.
a uno cerrado, aunque, indudablemente, tenía una Sus largas y profundas investigaciones a través de
marcada preferencia por el juego abierto, como lo sus 28 años del campeón del mundo han formado la
demuestran, más que nada, sus propias aseveraciones. base para casi todos los progresos de los años posteri-
Quizá la única debilidad grande que se vislumbra a ores. Steinitz enunció y explicó un gran número de
través de sus hechos y sus declaraciones, es la falta de principios, entre ellos, los referentes a las diversas con-
comprensión de la verdadera fuerza de sus adversar- formaciones de los peones. La debilidad que se creaba
ios. cuando debido a la conformación de los peones existía
Diversas manifestaciones hechas por él mismo, asev- un ‘hueco’ así como la desventaja de tener ciertas con-
eraciones sobre las cuales no puede haber duda alguna, formaciones que, según él, debían producir en el tran-
parecen indicar que el gran maestro americano no scurso de la partida, debilidades de las cuales podría
apreciaba en su justo valor las grandes facultades de sacar partido el adversario Fue él también quien
algunos de sus adversarios, principalmente las del ya proclamó por primera vez la superioridad del alfil sobre
citado Anderssen. Y, en cambio, el hecho de que deter- el caballo y quien practicó la teoría general, que
minado jugador tuviera un éxito relativo en contra estableció, de la explotación de pequeñas ventajas
suyo, lo inclinaba, por esa mera circunstancia a con- materiales a base de resistencia al ataque, es decir que
siderarlo de fuerza superior a la que en realidad poseía. a menudo y a sabiendas, ganaba un peón con el
Es decir, tal parece, como si el gran maestro americano propósito deliberado de someterse a un ataque de su
no tuviera—en cuanto a la fuerza y personalidad de adversario, que él creía no había de tener éxito contra
sus adversarios—la misma percepción que tenía ante una defensa adecuada, considerando que una vez ago-
el tablero. tado el ataque, él podría, a su vez, asumir la ofensiva y
WILHELM STEINITZ—Wilhem Steinitz nació en mediante esa pequeña ventaja de material forzar el
Praga, Bohemia, el 17 de mayo de 1836 y tenía, pues juego y obtener del peón para extricarse de cualquier
488 APPENDIX I
situación verdaderamente peligrosa que pudiera Durante el reinado de Lasker, el ajedrez dio el paso
sobrevenir como resultado del ataque a que voluntari- de avance mayor en su historia; avance debido no sólo
amente se había sometido. a las proyecciones del gran maestro alemán sino tam-
Esta idea general que contiene en sí apreciaciones bién a los esfuerzos y las investigaciones hechas por
muy profundas y que él puso en práctica con éxito sus más grandes competidores.
durante tantos años, es un arma de dos filos que nece- Lasker fue campeón del mundo por 27 años y durante
sita ser manejada con muchísimo cuidado. Por desgra- esa época hubo un gran número de grandes jugadores
cia, no siempre tuvo Steinitz la necesaria ecuanimidad que de no tener enfrente la figura colosal del maestro
de criterio para aplicarla y hacia el fin de su reinado, alemán hubieran podido fácilmente ocupar el trono.**
tanto éste como algunos otros principios excelentes, De lo anteriormente dicho, claramente se ve la
los llevó a tal extremo que, por así decir, convirtió enorme tarea del doctor Lasker en mantener la supe-
buenos principios en pequeños errores y, por consigu- rioridad a través de los años en contra de una colección
iente, sufrió un gran número de derrotas que quizá tan formidable de maestros. El ex campeón es un
hubiera podido evitar, de haber procedido con la luchador formidable, a la par que, como hemos dicho,
debida ecuanimidad en la aplicación de todos esos ya, filósofo del ajedrez. Su idea siempre fue encontrar
principios. de alguna manera el punto débil del adversario, para
El maestro bohemio era un jugador de gran imagi- dirigir contra esa debilidad el ataque. Una vez que él
nación y de un extraordinario poder de combinación; encontraba cualquier punto débil en la armadura del
sin embargo, después de cierta época, en que empezó adversario tenía la seguridad absoluta de vencerlo, pues
a adoptar un sistema de juego que él creía más ade- nadie como él ha tenido la habilidad de explotar
cuado a la aplicación de sus premisas, rara vez vemos cualquier deficiencia del adversario.
el uso de esa gran facultad, excepto para demoler las Lasker fue además un investigador profundo y fue
combinaciones del adversario. Ese estilo suyo, unido a él quien añadió a la teoría general del ajedrez un prin-
otro principio por él enunciado, que proponía conser- cipio muy amplio de orden general, al efecto de que
var los peones no más delante de la cuarta casilla y las no debía atacarse violentamente contra el Rey adver-
piezas en las dos últimas líneas del tablero—siempre sario sin tener la seguridad absoluta del éxito del
que fuera posible—han servido de base para la llamada ataque o, de lo contrario, la seguridad—absoluta tam-
“escuela hipermoderna,” que ha tenido recientemente bién,—de que una vez repulsado el ataque, se podría
marcado auge, debido a los escritos de Reti y otros obtener el equilibrio, por así decir, de la posición; o
prominentes maestros contemporáneos; escuela ésta que se podría de alguna manera, rehacer la posición
que en su juventud ha cometido los mismos errores de de las piezas una vez agotado el ataque, al extremo de
razonamiento que Steinitz sólo cometió ya después de darle equilibrio general a la partida. Sin esa seguridad
cierta edad. Debemos aclarar aquí que no queremos absoluta, no debía, a su juicio, conducirse un ataque
decir con lo antepuesto, que tanto ciertas ideas de violento contra el Rey adversario.
Steinitz, como las ideas de los hipermodernistas sean Su idea, muy justa, por cierto, era que un ataque vio-
totalmente erróneas, sino que sólo tienen una parte de lento fracasado, en que las piezas quedasen amonton-
verdad y, por consiguiente, el resto, forzosamente con- adas, por así decir, en una pequeña parte del tablero
stituye un error. ¿Cuál es la parte buena y cuál es la sin producir mayor efecto, produciría un desequilibrio
parte mala? No podemos pretender explicar en estos manifiesto en la posición del atacante; desequilibrio
artículos, para ello sería necesaria una disertación alta- del cual podría aprovecharse el adversario para acome-
mente técnica con demostraciones prácticas.* ter contra el lado descubierto y así obtener la victoria.
Al hablar sobre Steinitz, lo que nos proponemos es Además de todo esto, Lasker amplió y perfeccionó
llamar atención acerca de la siguiente circunstancia: los principios fundamentales expuestos por Steinitz.
de que gracias a sus investigaciones el ajedrez ha lle- El ex campeón del mundo no tiene punto débil en su
gado en tan corto espacio de tiempo a ser lo que es hoy. juego. Tiene mucha imaginación y gran poder de com-
Por así decir, entre la “posición” de Morphy y los prin- binación y no tiene superior en los finales de partida,
cipios de Steinitz, tenemos casi todos los principios departamento en el cual, durante muchos años, no
fundamentales de la teoría del ajedrez. tuvo rival alguno.
Para completar estos principios sólo habrá que añadir A pesar de sus 58 años es, aún hoy día, con la posible
uno o dos establecidos por el ex campeón mundial, doc- excepción del doctor Alekhine, el jugador más fuerte
tor Lasker y uno o dos más establecidos por el autor del mundo.
de estas líneas, todos los cuales han sido expuestos de
manera rigurosamente clara en mi obra “Chess Fun- *Capablanca en su prólogo a la reedición en el año
damentals,” que publicamos en el año 1921. 1934 de Chess Fundamentals (Harcourt, Brace and
E MANUEL L ASKER—Emanuel Lasker nació en Company, New York) fue mucho más crítico con la
Berlinchen el 25 de diciembre de 1868. No tenía pues “Escuela Hipermoderna.” Allí escribió: Fundamentos
26 años cuando venció a Steinitz, en 1894, en un match del Ajedrez se publicó por primera vez hace trece años,
por el campeonato del mundial, con el score de 10 a 5. Desde entonces han aparecido numerosos artículos
No fue, sin embargo, hasta unos años más tarde que el bajo el título, por lo general, de “teoría hipermoderna
maestro alemán adquirió la plenitud de su fuerza. del ajedrez.” Quienes los hayan leído bien pueden
haber pensado que estaban en presencia de algo Nuevo [Capablanca se refirió en menor grado a Janowski,
y de vital importancia. / La verdad es que la teoría Tarrasch, Marshall y Maróczy en estos términos:]
hipermoderna no es otra cosa que la aplicación, durante Janowski: Gran admirador de Morphy, trató siempre
el desarrollo de la apertura, de los mismos viejos prin- de imitar el estilo del gran maestro americano. Jugador
cipios, pero poniendo en práctica tácticas un tanto que no temía nada a ningún adversario, puesto que
novedosas. No ha habido alteración en lo fundamen- siempre se creía capaz de vencerlo, poseído de la idea
tal; la novedad ha consistido únicamente en un cambio de que en el ajedrez siempre había que atacar y que la
de formas, y no siempre se ha conseguido obtener con “posición” era lo único que había siempre que tener en
ello lo mejor.” cuenta, produjo como consecuencia de lo anterior y de
su temperamento nervioso y agresivo, una serie de par-
**Entre aquellos rivales de Lasker que pudieron tidas interesantísimas, a tal extremo que difícilmente
ostentar la corona, Capablanca se refirió entre otros a se podría encontrar una colección de partidas de
los siguientes: (fragmentos) cualquier maestro que sea más interesante que la colec-
Akiba Rubinstein: Llegó ser considerado, por los ción de las partidas de Janowski durante los últimos 30
años 1911 y 12 como el jugador de mayores conocimien- años. Alguna que otra se encontrará deficiente pero, en
tos respecto a la técnica de apertura. Dotado de una general, aun las partidas perdidas, poseía un tono espe-
memoria extraordinaria para el ajedrez se decía de él cial que sólo puede dar la mano de un gran maestro.
en esa época, que no había partida jugada por ningún Marshall: Es otro jugador que ha producido par-
maestro, en un período de 20 años, que él no supiera tidas interesantísimas y, además, ha sido un investi-
de memoria, a más de recordar todas las partidas de gador tenaz de la técnica general de las aperturas, a tal
Morphy, de Anderssen, de Steinitz, etc. Estratega extremo que muchos de sus descubrimientos perduran
admirable, con un profundo sentido de la ‘posición,’ a hoy día como las mejores variantes de determinadas
la par que gran finalista, en cuyo departamento sólo posiciones.
tenía como rival al doctor Lasker (…) De haberse lle- Tarrasch: Jugador y analista sumamente metódico,
vado a cabo el match [contra Lasker] Rubinstein que ha dedicado la mayor parte de su vida a llevar pro-
hubiera fracasado. fundas investigaciones sobre la técnica de las aperturas
Schlechter: Durante el reinado de Lasker tenemos y de cierta clase de finales. A él se debe en gran parte,
también al gran maestro austriaco C. Schlechter que la moda implantada de las investigaciones en las diver-
llegó a ser considerado como el único rival posible para sas aperturas y en las diversas clases de finales.
el doctor Lasker, al extremo de jugar un match en Maróczy: En nuestra opinión jugador superior—allá
Viena, de 10 partidas, en el que estuvo a punto de por los años 1900-1906—a todos los demás jugadores
perder el título el ex campeón del mundo, puesto que de ese período.
le fue necesario ganar la décima partida para empatar Pillsbury: Profundo investigador de la técnica de las
el match. Para que nuestros lectores no vayan a formar aperturas, especialmente del Ruy López y del gambito
un criterio equivocado sobre la fuerza relativa de estos de la Dama, que ha dejado partidas memorables.
dos grandes maestros, debemos aclarar que, en nuestra Además ha sido el primero o el segundo, por lo menos
opinión, el doctor Lasker—que acababa de sufrir una en el mundo, entre los jugadores de partidas simultáneas
operación en un ojo—se resentía de ese miembro impor- sin ver el tablero. Dotado de una memoria prodigiosa y
tantísimo y no estuvo a su mayor altura. Además, el de una resistencia al trabajo mental incomparable, llegó,
maestro austriaco era para él lo que había sido Pillsbury mientras jugaba en un gran torneo internacional, a elegir
con anterioridad: es una decir un enigma. el único día de descanso que tenía a la semana para jugar
El maestro austriaco no tenía en realidad ningún contra todos los jugadores (21 en número) que tomaban
punto débil en su armadura y jugaba con igual destreza parte en un segundo torneo, internacional también. Es
cualquier estilo de juego, no olvidando nunca asumir una de las sesiones simultáneas a la ciega más notable
la iniciativa en la primera oportunidad. Era, además, de la historia del ajedrez, puesto que en ese segundo tor-
de un temperamento sumamente ecuánime y no se neo tomaban parte jugadores que no tardaron en
dejaba impresionar en lo más mínimo por ningún demostrar sus grandes cualidades para colocarse en
adversario que pudiera tener enfrente. primera fila entre la primera docena del mundo.
Appendix II:
The Illness and Death of
By DR . ORLANDO HERNÁNDEZ -MEILÁN, Neurologist*
Numbers in brackets refer to references in the bibliography at the end of this appendix.
Several members of the Capablanca family [10] were diagnosed with arterial hypertension.
José Raúl, in 1921 at age 33, began to suffer certain vague symptoms which were called “blood dis-
orders,” and he indicated that he felt better at high altitudes where the air was purer. In 1927, at age
39, he had gained some weight and, in June of 1929, five months before his 41st birthday, the former
World Chess Champion was diagnosed with arterial hypertension.
In spite of his prescribed treatment for hypertension, his blood pressure was unable to be ade-
quately controlled for many years. Later, in 1938, at age 50, Capablanca had trouble analyzing his
chess moves accurately after the fourth hour of a game. On several occasions, during his games, he
had to dampen his forehead with ice water seeking some relief from his headaches.
Around 1939 his hypertension was more or less under control, but in 1942, at age 53 and coin-
ciding with some personal and professional problems, his arterial tension began to rise sharply again,
reaching 210/180mm Hg. Under treatment, it was able to be lowered, but only to 180/130 and just for
a short time. Nevertheless, two days before suffering his cerebral hemorrhage, his blood pressure had
risen sharply again, and fluctuated between 200/160 and 240/160.
On the night of March 7, 1942, Capablanca [10] had a severe headache. He was in the Man-
hattan Chess Club watching two of his friends play a game when, after 9:00 p.m., he suddenly
stood up, asked them to help him take off his coat, and fell into a coma. Dr. Eli Moschkowitz, who
was in the Club at the time, began to give him first aid.
He was taken by ambulance to Mount Sinai Hospital where he was admitted [5] as Patient
No. 486592, E Ward, and Bed 10. His physical examination at the time showed: Patient critically
ill in deep coma, unreceptive to nociceptive stimuli, unequal pupils with the left one dilated (fixed
and unresponsive to light), left facial palsy, left hemiplegia, globally depressed tendinous reflexes,
and arterial tension 280/140. A lumbar puncture was performed which showed hemorrhagic cere-
bral spinal fluid (CSF) with a pressure of 500 mm of water.
*This report was written especially for the present work. Dr. Orlando Hernández-Meilán is a graduate of the
School of Medicine at the University of Havana, 1974, and a graduate as a specialist in neurology of the Institute
of Neurology and Neurosurgery (INN), Havana, 1980. He served as a professor of neurology at the INN from
1985 to 1997 and as a professor at the Manuel Fajardo School of Medicine, Medical Science Institute of Havana,
from 1991 to 1997. He lives in Miami.
490
The Illness and Death of José Raúl Capablanca 491
The physicians diagnosed a spontaneous intracerebral hemorrhage caused by his uncontrolled

arterial hypertension. In spite of the emergency treatment he received, Capablanca died the next
day, March 8, at 6:00 a.m. [4, 5], approximately 8 or 9 hours after losing consciousness at the Man-
hattan Chess Club.
The full autopsy, No. 12119, performed by Drs. Moschkowitz, Prill and Levin, ended at 10:46
a.m. and the most important findings[5] were as follows:
Brain: The magna cistern was filled with blood and the CSF was bloody on the surface of the
hemispheres. The gyri were flattened and the sulci and fissures were narrowed. There was an almost
total destruction of the right thalamus from a massive hemorrhage there, and also on the adjacent
part of the corpus striatum. Remnants of the right thalamus were found in the anterior horn of the
right lateral ventricle. The whole area was replaced by a hematoma which was approximately two
inches wide and two inches high. That mass extended the entire length of the right thalamus and
its contiguous structures. The entire ventricular system was massively flooded with blood which
included the third ventricle, mesocephalic aqueduct (Silvio’s), and the fourth ventricle. The ven-
tricular system was dilated throughout under pressure and displaced somewhat to the left.
Heart: It weighed 575 g, the pericardia bag was filled with 15 ml of a yellowish fluid, the right
auricle and ventricle were dilated without hypertrophy. There was no valvular lesion and the oval
foramen was closed. A noticeable left ventricle wall hypertrophy of more than 3 cm was found,
along with hypertrophied papillary muscles. There were numerous scattered small punctate and
linear areas of subendocardial hemorrhage on the left ventricle wall. The coronary arteries were
sclerotic, with occasional areas of mild focal narrowing. The aorta had a yellowish color and showed
moderate arteriosclerotic changes.
The other viscera and organs revealed marked arteriosclerotic changes which included the
small seminal vesicles. There was pulmonary edema and hemorrhage with recent broncho-
pneumonia due to bronchoaspiration.
A benign tumor was found on the right
kidney with some hemorrhage. Cysts
were found on both kidneys. There
was a leiomyoma on the jejunum and
a small polyp on the transverse colon.
Clinical-Pathological
Discussion
It is important to point out that
there are many known cerebrovascular
risk factors such as arterial hypertension,
diabetes mellitus, hypercholesterolemia,
cerebral arterial stenosis, cardiac arrhyth-
mia, valvular heart disease, blood disor-
ders, etc. Of these, arterial hypertension
is the most dangerous and led to the
death of José Raúl Capablanca.
In the case of the former World
Chess Champion, his non-reversible coma
with sudden onset, left hemiplegia, and
very high arterial tension indicate a clini-
cal diagnosis of a spontaneous intracere-
bral hemorrhage, located in the depth of Figure 1
the right cerebral hemisphere. As the Coronal section of a brain immediately in front of pons
492 APPENDIX II (DR . ORLANDO HERNÁNDEZ-MEILÁN)
autopsy showed, the hemorrhage occurred on the right thalamus (Figs. 1, 2) whose etiology was a
severely uncontrolled arterial hypertension. The fact that the lumbar puncture showed a hemorrhagic
and hypertensive CSF (500 mm of water), allows us to postulate two more facts: that Capablanca
developed severe intracranial hypertension because of the hemorrhage, and, being so massive, the
blood drained to the ventricular system, leading to a flooding of the whole system.
According to the statistics [1, 8, 9] of all neurological diseases, cerebrovascular diseases rep-
resent 55 percent of all cases. Based on annual percentage statistics, 10 percent to15 percent of all
strokes are intracerebral hemorrhages as reported as the annual incidence in 10 to 30 new cases out
of 100,000 people. [9] In general, it is considered that two-thirds of the patients who have suffered
a spontaneous intracerebral hemorrhage have had a history of arterial hypertension for many
years.
In a study of 1,000 consecutive autopsies [3] of patients with neurological illnesses, cerebrovas-
cular disease was the second most prevalent cause of death. It was responsible for 257 deaths out
of which 57 (22.1 percent) had intracerebral hemorrhage due to hypertensive etiology.
There is a certain variability regarding the location of intracerebral hemorrhages. It has been
established that subcortical (in the cerebral lobes) hemorrhages represent a large percentage of
them. However, when one specifically considers the intracerebral hemorrhage whose etiology is
arterial hypertension, we can observe that, in 50 percent of the cases, such hemorrhage occurs on
the basal ganglia, which are located in the depth of the cerebral hemisphere, as was Capablanca’s
case. Regarding the location of the hemorrhage on the basal ganglia, it has been reported in many
case studies [2] that the first tar-
geted location is the putamen (45
percent–60 percent) and the sec-
ond (10 percent–15 percent) is the
thalamus (Fig. 2).
Capablanca’s autopsy also
confirms severe intracranial hyper-
tension which caused flattening of
the gyri and narrowing of the sulci
and incisures. In addition, the cere-
bral and ventricular hemorrhage is
confirmed by necropsy data which
showed the CSF on the surface of
the hemisphere was bloody and
the magna cistern was filled with
blood. Normally, the cerebral ven-
tricles and the magna cistern only Figure 2
have CSF, which normally is clear A photograph of the coronal section of an actual brain show-
and transparent like water. ing a massive hemorrhage in the right thalamus with inunda-
An intracerebral hemorrhage tion of the right lateral ventricle. Note: This is not Capablanca’s
as massive as Capablanca’s can pro- brain.
duce cerebral herniation due to
severe intracranial hypertension. This is caused by the mass effect produced by the growing hematoma
that pushes and displaces the contiguous cerebral tissue. This event leads to various types of hernias.
There are two of them that may be considered in Capablanca’s case: the uncial and tonsilar hernias.
The transtentorial hernia of the uncus of the temporal lobe, commonly called an uncial hernia
(Fig. 2), through the space between the mesencephalon (the upper part of the brainstem) and the
free margin of the tentorium cerebelli (Fig. 5) leads to a space conflict with compression of the third
cranial nerve (the common ocular motor nerve) from the same side of the hemorrhage, causing
pupillary dilation without response to light. This event happens because the parasympathetic fibers
are on the surface of the third cranial nerve and those fibers are easily compressed. The function
of the parasympathetic system is

to keep the pupils narrowed, but
when the third cranial nerve is
compressed, the pupil is left at
the mercy of the sympathetic sys-
tem only, whose function is to
keep the pupil dilated.
More important than pupil-
lary dysfunction, the uncial her-
nia unchains a series of events
which affect the brainstem. These
consist of rostrocaudal progres-
sive deterioration of the brain-
stem, which compromises the
mesencephalon, the pons and the
medulla oblongata functions,
which then leads to brain-death.
The fact that Capablanca’s
autopsy showed the existence of
a dilated left pupil unresponsive
to light leads one to think ipso
facto about a possible develop- Figure 3
ment of a left uncial hernia, due Mesal aspect of the brainstem in a median-sagittal plane showing
to the series of events explained the Cisterna magna, the Cerebellar tonsils, the Third and Fourth
above. The incongruence with ventricles, and the Mesencephalic Aqueduct
this finding is that his hemor-
rhage occurred in the right cerebral hemisphere, and therefore the right pupil should have been the
one to be dilated and fixed. Thus, it is difficult to support the existence of a right uncial hernia.
There is a probable explanation about why the left pupil, and not the right one, was dilated.
It is due to the right-to-left-side displacement of the structures, among them the mesencephalon
(midbrain) (Figs. 3 and 4). The left common ocular motor nerve would be compressed by the left
cerebral peduncle (the principal structure of the mesencephalon) against the free margin of the
tentorium cerebelli (Fig. 5), creating the cited left pupillary dilation without any lesion of the pedun-
cle. Ipso facto the so-called Kernohan phenomenon is not plausible because of the absence of Duret
hemorrhages on the left peduncle and upper part of the pons.
We can clinically discount the diagnosis of a subarachnoid hemorrhage due to an aneurism
of the left communicating artery because, in spite of its extreme proximity to the common ocular
motor nerve which is compressed by the aneurism, the following clinical findings were not present
in Capablanca’s case: palpebral ptosis, nuchal rigidity and no limitation to the movement of the
limbs.
The tonsilar herniation, first described by Harvey Cushing in 1917, which is a hernia of the
cerebellar tonsils (Figs. 3 and 4), is even more serious than the uncial hernia because it produces
tonsilar embedding through the foramen magnum towards the spinal canal. This event causes com-
pression of the medulla oblongata and also compression of the upper part of the cervical spinal
cord. The medulla oblongata is the lower part of the brainstem. Its compression and distortion, due
to the pressure coming from above, damage the nuclei and fibers of both pneumogastric nerves
(tenth cranial nerves), also called vagal nerves, which have a parasympathetic function, and this,
in turn, leads to cardio-respiratory arrest and death.
At this point in our clinical-pathological discussion it is necessary to make some observations.
Capablanca’s diagnosis of intracerebral hemorrhage could have been made by simply analyzing the
clinical profile of the case including the sudden onset and the findings during the physical exami-
Figure 4
Mesal aspect of a brain in the median-sagittal plane
nation. A lumbar puncture is formally contra-indicated in an acute neurological event with severe
intracranial hypertension and high suspicion of massive intracerebral hemorrhage. This is due to
the fact that extracting CSF from the spinal canal, which is located below the cranial cavity, unfor-
tunately eliminates the resistance that the volume of CSF produces to fight the mass effect and the
growing intracranial hypertension. As a result, the reduction in the volume of the CSF along with
the hemorrhage causes downward pressure, which facilitates the creation of those two types of cere-
bral hernias explained above.
The above analysis allows us to infer that the lumbar puncture could have, in some way, con-
tributed to the irreversibility of Capablanca’s cerebral lesion. Although cerebral hernias were not
explicitly mentioned in the autopsy report, the presence of an unequal pupillary dilation and the
fact that the cerebral ventricular system was under pressure and displaced to the left, imply the
presence of a mass effect due to the hematoma, with the consequent space conflict created in the
right thalamic region.
The average weight of a normal male heart ranges from 300 g to 350 g (10.58 ounces to 12.34
ounces). Capablanca’s heart weighed 575 g, which was very evidently above average. This was caused
by left ventricular wall hypertrophy (more than 3 cm), due to his uncontrolled arterial hypertension
for many years.
There was something noteworthy in the macro-microscopic study of the heart which turned out
to be a remarkable and important finding [5] at the time. There were numerous scattered, small
punctate and linear areas of subendocardial hemorrhage found on the left ventricle wall. Suben-
docardial hemorrhage reports in autopsy studies of patients who died due to intracranial hemorrhages
were published for the first time twenty-two years later by P. Koskelo et al. [7] in 1964. Koskelo
stated that the production of such

subendocardial hemorrhages was
closely related to the development of
acute and severe intracranial hyperten-
sion which, in turn, produced the
release of a large amount of vasoactive
substances into the bloodstream.
Among these substances were acetyl-
choline (parasympathetic activity),
adrenaline and noradrenaline (sympa-
thetic activity), the latter ones being
the main cause of subendocardial hem-
orrhage, as well as electrocardiographic
changes, which mimic an acute
myocardial infarction [3, 6, 7] in this
type of neurological event, and was
what Capablanca [5, 6] suffered.
At the time, pharmacological sci-
ence was not as developed as it is today.
If it had been, Capablanca would have
had better treatment for his arterial
hypertension from the moment he was
first diagnosed and it would have been
kept under control.
A hypertensive patient, who is con- Figure 5
trolled by treatment, can avoid, in large Seen from above. Close relationship between the free
part, the production of irreversible margin of Tentorium cerebelli and the Oculomotor nerves
lesions in the cerebral arterial vessels. (third pair of cranial nerves).
Arterial hypertension, left uncontrolled
for many years, undermines and deteriorates the integrity and strength of the walls of the terminal
arteries in the depth of the cerebral hemispheres, cerebellar hemispheres, and in the pons. Those
locations are the three main targets of damage in the brain of hypertensive patients. The resultant
weakness of those terminal arteries leads to the production of the so-called Charcot-Bouchard micro-
aneurisms, and later, as a result, the walls of those terminal arteries become so weak and fragile that
spontaneous bleeding is imminent. At that point, the arterial tension need not be elevated for those
damaged terminal arteries to bleed spontaneously. That is why it is called spontaneous hypertensive
intracerebral hemorrhage.
Arterial hypertension, uncontrolled for years, also brings with it a high risk of cerebral infarct,
cardiac infarct or infarct in any other artery of the body. This is because it facilitates the build-up
of cholesterol plaque on the arterial endothelium, which is then followed by plaque calcification
(atheromatosis), and later, followed by fibrosis of the plaque (arteriosclerosis). All three of these
stages produce narrowing and closing of the arterial lumen, which, in turn, lead to thrombotic
cerebral infarct, and infarct of other organs as described above.
The acute, severe, destructive and massive hemorrhagic stroke suffered by the former World
Chess Champion was clearly a lethal event. In spite of the emergency treatment that he received,
Capablanca could not have been saved. He was beyond the point of no return, not only at that time
(1942) but would have been even today, in the 21st century, with our advanced medical and tech-
nological knowledge.
The severe and explosive devastation of the right cerebral hemisphere, specifically in the right
thalamus (Figs. 1 and 2) and its neighboring structures, combined with total cerebral ventricular
inundation, practically shutting down the whole ventricular system (Figs. 1, 2, 3 and 4), plus acute
and severe cerebral edema, are clearly what caused Capablanca’s death. As previously stated in our
Granma newspaper article [4] of 1988, “Capablanca’s case is a clear-cut example of what might
await any hypertensive patient who cannot control his or her arterial hypertension.”
The lapse of time between the onset of Capablanca’s cerebral hemorrhage at the Manhattan
Chess Club and his arrival at Mount Sinai Hospital would not have made any difference to the
fatal outcome of his hemorrhagic stroke. There was little the physicians could have done to avoid
his imminent brain-death.
SOURCES OF THE IMAGES
Figures 1, 3, 4, and 5 were obtained from Anatomy of the Human Body (Gray’s Anatomy).
Philadelphia: Lea & Febiger (1918), and are in the public domain. A photograph (Fig. 2) was a
courtesy from the slide collection of the late Dr. Charles Kuhn, reprinted with the permission of
Prof. Calvin E. Oyer, M.D., Alpert Medical School at Brown University.
Acknowledgments: I am very grateful to Dr. Steven Dikman of the Department of Pathology
at Mount Sinai Hospital, New York, NY. At my request, he very graciously sent us a photocopy
of Capablanca’s entire autopsy report in 1987. I also wish to deeply thank Professor Calvin E.
Oyer, M.D., who authorized us to use the photograph of a brain from his files (Fig. 2). On a
personal note, I especially want to thank my wonderful wife, Barbara Armstrong, for her patience
in reviewing this text and offering her suggestions.
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ity of Care and Outcomes in Research Interdisciplinary Working Group. Circulation (2007); 116 (16): 391–413.
2. Gorelick, PhB: Cerebrovascular Disease. Pathophysiology and Diagnosis. Nursing Clinics of North America
(1986); 21 (2):275–288.
3. Hernández-Meilán, O: ECG y las hemorragias intracraneales. Tesis de grado en Neurología (1980). Instituto
de Neurología y Neurocirugía de La Habana.
4. Hernández-Meilán, O, and Hernández-Meilán, M: Como murio Capablanca. Granma Newspaper. Havana,
January 16, 1988: 4.
5. Hernández-Meilán, O, and Hernández-Meilán, M: Historia Clínica Cerebrovascular de José Raúl Capa-
blanca. Revista del Hospital Psiquiatrico de La Habana (1991); 32 (1): 493–503.
6. Hernández-Meilán, O; Hernández-Meilán, M, and Machado Curbelo, C: Capablanca’s Stroke: An Early
Case of Neurogenic Heart Disease. Cuban-World-Champion of Chess 1921–1927. Journal of the History of the
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Chapter Notes
Chapter 1 5. Antón Ruíz de Valdespino, Bayamo y sus cosas

(Barcelona, 1835).
1. According to a late 19th century edition of the 6. Manuel Moreno Fraginals, Cuba/España, Es-
Encyclopædia Britannica, “Havana is still as a whole paña/Cuba Historia Común (Barcelona: Grijalbo-
a city of smells and noises. There is no satisfactory Mondadori, 1995).
cleaning of the streets or draining of the sub soil and 7. Besides being the largest sugar producer in
the harbor is rendered foul by the impurities of the the world, it was also, during the first decades of the
town. The Cubans boast that there are 6,000 volan- 19th century, a coffee, molasses, rum and copper pro-
tas [typical carriages pulled by horses] and other ve- ducer. Moreno Fraginals, op. cit., p. 235.
hicles are driven through the thoroughfares with the 8. “The wealth obtained through the immense
utmost recklessness; and the tramways and railways development of sugar reaches lavish proportions;
in the American fashion contribute to the confu- and the opulence created a magnificent if somewhat
sion.” Thomas Spencer Baynes, Encyclopædia Britan- demoralized society. It was possible to become a mar-
nica, 1880–1890. quis by paying $45,000, a count for $25,000 to
2. Letter from von Heydebrand und der Lasa to $30,000.” Hugh Thomas, Cuba: The Pursuit of Free-
Vázquez, from New Orleans, signed March 9, 1888. dom (New York: Harper & Row, 1998), p. 142. Also
Published by Revista de Ajedrez, January 22, 1889, see Leví Marrero, Cuba, Economía y Sociedad (Madrid:
pp. 17–18. Editorial Playol, 1979), vol. 13, p. 36.
3. “The Havana Chess Club is not only most dis- 9. Especially damaging for Maelzel was the de-
tinguished for its generous patronage of active play scription of the automaton published in 1836 by the
among the masters, but the society can also boast Parisian magazine La Palamède, and reprinted on
that one of its leading spirits, Señor Vázquez, the February 6, 1837, in Washington by the National
Mexican Consul General in Cuba, is the most pro- Gazette. Among the belongings found in his luggage
lific chess author of the day. Within a few years Señor after his death was a copy of the article from the
Vázquez has, with indefatigable industry, produced American magazine.
a series of chess works which have made their mark 10. Diario de La Habana, May 7, 1838. It is rele-
in universal chess literature.” William Steinitz, In- vant to indicate it did not mention the automaton,
ternational Chess Magazine, May 1891, p. 141. since Schlumberger died in April.
4. The summarized text of Vázquez’s narration is 11. William Schlumberger was born around
the following : “On a peaceful night during the 1800. Most texts indicate that he was at least six feet
month of March 1888 we chatted in the marbled tall, a fact that would not prevent him from hiding
halls of the Union Club, in this capital, Mr. Steinitz, inside the rectangular box upon which sat the Turk.
Mr. D. Celso Golmayo and the author of these para- His work relationship and friendship with Maelzel
graphs…. Then we began to discuss the most ad- lasted more than 10 years. Professor George Allen,
vanced champions that could show their mettle in his article “The History of the Automaton Chess
against Mr. Steinitz. Several eyewitnesses mentioned Player in America,” published in a book on the First
the distinguished names of Winawer, Blackburne, American Chess Congress in 1857, seems to hint that
Mackenzie and Burn. All of a sudden, Mr. Golmayo they had a homosexual relationship, although at an
and the rest of us, almost simultaneously, spoke of earlier stage it is referred to as “like a father and son.”
Chigorin, the young son of the Neva region, a man Either hypothesis could explain the deep depression
of burning gaze and black hair…. At that point that engulfed Maelzel in his last days, after Schlum-
sprang up the idea of the first Steinitz–Chigorin berger’s demise.
match….” Andrés Clemente Vázquez, El Fígaro, Feb- 12. Neither in the tale appearing in Tom Standage’s
ruary 24, 1892. afore mentioned book, The Turk, nor in Professor
497
498 NOTES —CHAPTER 1
George Allen’s article in the book of the First Amer- lost his “title” by a wide margin to Celso Golmayo
ican Chess Congress, edited by Daniel Willard Fiske, Zúpide, but there are no records anywhere about the
is yellow fever ever mentioned as Maelzel’s cause of results of that match, or where it was held.
death, although it can be assumed that if he had 19. Andrés Clemente Vázquez, El Pablo Morphy,
shown symptoms of that disease, perhaps Captain Revista Mensual de Ajedrez 1, no. 3 (September 15,
Nobre would not have allowed him to leave his cabin, 1891), pp. 49–50.
to prevent contagion on board. The theory of 20. “Mr. D. Antonio Fiol, distinguished chess
Cuban scientist Carlos J. Finlay that yellow fever was player and resident of this island, in the Jaruco ju-
transmitted by the Aedes aegypti mosquito was still risdiction, was Morphy’s classmate (and one of his
many years away. The story of Maelzel’s final voyage first victims in chess) at the Mobile Institute, Spring
appeared in pp. 185–186 of Standage’s book, and a Hill College.” Andrés Clemente Vázquez, El Pablo
more detailed version was provided in George Allen’s Morphy 1, no. 1 (October 15, 1891), p. 8.
long article. The elements for reconstructing Maelzel’s 21. The Spanish ambassador to the United States,
trips to Cuba have been culled from those two works Gabriel García y Toscana, in a wicked exchange of
and Havana’s newspapers of the time. complaints with American Secretary of State William
13. Ohl acquired the automaton for $400 and H. Seward, argued that the 80 persons who boarded
later sold it for $500 to John Kearsly Mitchell, Poe’s the Blasco de Garay and two other Spanish warships
family doctor. Tom Standage, op. cit., pp. 189–191, is in September 1862 were political refugees. During
also mentioned in Professor George Allen’s article. those months, Spain and the United States were en-
14. Rafael María Mendive (Havana, 1821–Matan- tangled in a diplomatic spat regarding navigation
zas, 1886) is recognized as the leading intellectual in- rights and delays at customs inspections, as a result
fluence on the Cuban independence hero José Martí, of Madrid’s recognition of Jefferson Davis’s Con-
having been his teacher at the San Pablo School in federate government. The Blasco de Garay incident
Havana. was not an isolated case arising from the poor rela-
15. Revista de La Habana, vol. 2, September 15, tions between the two countries at that time. The
1853–March 1, 1854, p. 16, for the chess notes and letters between Seward and Toscana had a very bel-
p. 140 for the problem. Solution: 1. Re2 Kc5 2. Rb2 licose tone that only subsided after the second half
Kd5 3. Rb5 mate. In all, four problems and their re- of 1863. James Porton, General Butler in New Or-
spective solutions were published. leans (New York, 1864), p. 264; James Cortada,
16. “The players of the first [class] shall obtain, “Spain and America: Civil War Relations at Mid
besides the joy of victory, a magnificent set, beauti- Century,” Transactions of the American Philosophic
fully carved, with its matching Chinese board, and Society 70, no. 4 (1980), p. 74. The other Seward and
a copy of Mr. [Howard] Staunton’s Chess Players Toscana letters can be found in: Foreign Relations of
Companion. The seconds shall vie for the possession the United States: Diplomatic Correspondence (Wash-
of another precious Chinese board, a rather unique ington, D.C., 1863), which includes the events ac-
set, Alexander [McDonnell]’s famous work, and one cording to the letters of General Benjamin Franklin
copy of [François-André Danican] Philidor in Span- Butler, chief of the Union troops occupying New
ish. Many of us rejoice to see so much excitement Orleans, to Secretary of War E.M. Stanton.
for the most worthy of all entertainment games and 22. Although Morphy’s games against local play-
for which we believe the present tournament will ers were held for the first time on October 18, he had
spark more interest.” Diario de La Habana, vol. 2, the day before visited Fésser’s house, along with his
September 15, 1853–March 1, 1854, p. 76. It is fair cousin Charles Amédée Maurian, and they were
to assume that Félix Sicre won those tournaments. feted by the host. According to El Siglo, on that af-
His name was mentioned among the stock owners ternoon of October 17, Maurian faced “one of our
of the society in several log books of the Lyceum of strongest players,” but the paper does not identify
Havana. him, nor does it mention the outcome of the game.
17. There’s a story that during the war, Céspedes Fésser’s house, where some of the 1862 and 1864 en-
used to carry his chess set along with letters and a counters took place, no longer exists; a nursery was
few books on a donkey that, when scared by gunfire, built on the site, according to information furnished
had a tendency to run away. On one occasion, the to the author by Cuban historian Rafael Acosta, who
donkey ended up behind Spanish lines, and upon visited the place to verify the fact.
searching the pack, the officers sent him back with 23. George Alcock McDonnell, Chess Life and
all the private letters and some books, but kept the Pictures (London, 1883).
chess set, allegedly because it could be used to devise 24. Nothing else is known about the slave José
plans and military strategies. Carlos A. Palacio, Aje- María Sicre, except that when Vázquez first revealed
drez en Cuba: Cien Años de Historia (Havana, 1960), the secret about the game against Morphy, by pub-
p. 101. lishing the story in the March 26, 1893, issue of El
18. Historically, Félix Sicre has been considered Fígaro, he explained that the annotations of the
Cuba’s “first chess champion.” It is known that he game had been saved by José Martín Rivero, in a
Notes—Chapter 1 499
book of handwritten notes gathered by his father. Spanish government for his years of service. This
Vázquez never doubted the authenticity of the game. was documented in the registry of Jubilados de Ul-
In the same article he described José María Sicre “as tramar (Retiree Overseas Index) 1869–1911 (Madrid,
a young negro, with excellent qualities … without 1979), p. 226, although he apparently remained in
books and without teachers, just by watching his Cuba, or visited the island frequently, as suggested
master play, learned the game of chess, and, was soon by his games against Lasker in 1906. Both of them
giving visible samples of an extraordinary advance, had Cuban descendants. Well known in the chess cir-
enough to be considered a worthy opponent of the cles were Celso and Manuel Golmayo Torriente; the
famous Morphy.” El Fígaro, March 26, 1893. latter was champion of Spain for many years and a
25. Capablanca in the Uruguayan chess magazine chess writer for Madrid’s Diario del ABC. Celsito
Mundial, May, 1927, wrote about the American chess Golmayo was the de facto Cuban chess champion in
genius: “Morphy was a great stylist. In the opening 1897, at the age of 18, when he tied Andrés Clemente
he pushed for developing all the pieces quickly. … Vázquez for first place in a Havana Chess Club tour-
Thus, from the point of view of style, he was com- nament, and later defeated Vázquez in a short series.
pletely correct. In his time, except for himself, the The fact that his brother Manuel was Spain’s cham-
concept “position ” was not properly understood.” pion is curious, because their father, a Spaniard, was
More recently, another world champion, Garry Kas- considered a Cuban champion, whereas Cuban-born
parov, wondered, What was the secret of Morphy’s Manuel was a Spanish champion. Regarding Laura
invincibility? And concluded: “Like Philidor previ- Carvajal del Camino, she was born in Havana on
ously, Morphy was greatly ahead of his time. He August 28, 1869, and registered in the Church of the
spontaneously established the three main principles Holy Spirit, book 45 of the “whites.” She graduated
of opening plays: (1) the rapid development of the from the Havana University Medical School on July
pieces; (2) the seizure of the center; (3) the opening 15, 1889. One of the last references to Vicente
of lines.” Garry Kasparov, My Great Predecessors, vol. Martínez Carvajal was found in The Chess Weekly
1 (London: Everyman Chess, Gloucester Publishers, magazine, December 19, 1908, p. 30, on the occasion
2003), p. 43. of his visit to Manhattan Chess Club, where he won
26. Philip W. Sergeant in his biography, Morphy’s a game against a “strong team consulting.”
Games of Chess (New York: Dover, 1967), p. 293, 31. Francisco del Hoyo was a well-known Creole
says that Morphy agreed to play on equal conditions merchant and financier, and came from an old As-
against his “old acquaintance,” Félix Sicre. However, turian family. He had an office at 20 South William
there is no record of that previous relationship. Per- Street in Manhattan, where, among other things, he
haps Sergeant confused the dates of Morphy’s sec- was a bail bondsman.
ond visit to Havana in 1864, because he had known 32. For example, Carlos A. Palacio does not men-
Sicre since 1862. The one Morphy knew before going tion Steinitz’s visit in his book Ajedrez en Cuba: Cien
to Havana was Antonio Fiol, who had been his class- Años de Historia, and after him, all those who took
mate in Alabama, as mentioned before. facts from his texts, including this author in his 1978
27. Clemente Vázquez, in his book, En el Ocaso: version of the present work.
Reminiscencias americanas y europeas (Havana, 33. The Havana–Philadelphia match was left
1900), p. 237, says that his father, Dr. Francisco unfinished at a point in which both games slightly
Vázquez, used to play chess with a group that met at favored the latter, according to the book Chess in
José María Espinosa’s pharmacy, years before Mor- Philadelphia (Philadelphia: Billstein & Son, 1899),
phy’s first visit to Havana in 1862, in what today is by Gustavus Charles Reichhelm and Walter Penn
known as Old Havana, or Colonial Havana. Shipley. Apparently, this was the first international
28. New data suggest that it was probably Havana chess competition for a Cuban club.
University professor José María Céspedes who was 34. In three different series held in Philadelphia,
mentioned in the article. in 1882 and 1883, Martínez beat Steinitz in one
29. Brooklyn Chess Chronicle 1, no. 21 (August 1, game, lost 19 and drew five. “In the second series that
1883): p. 178. followed [against Steinitz], Mr. Martinez made a
30. Guía Oficial de España (Madrid, 1895), p. strong fight, and out of the seven games, he won one
766, shows that Golmayo Zúpide was governor of and drew three. Several games in the second series
the Matanzas province in 1894. A similar reference are masterpieces of play,” according to Reichhelm
book for the year 1896 also lists him with the same and Shipley in Chess in Philadelphia, p. 14. General
position and in the same place. Before, as indicated information about the Steinitz versus Martínez
by Vázquez several times, he was “President of the match was taken from Kurt Landsberger’s book
Administrative Court” after 1887. Some references William Steinitz, Chess Champion. Jefferson, North
about Carvajal’s first years in Cuba are found in Carolina: McFarland, 2006), p. 406.
Cuba, estudios políticos (Havana, 1873), p. 172. Gol- 35. The Commissioners of Patent Journal, number
mayo died in Havana in 1898. Carvajal, at the end 168,404, November 12, 1875, p. 2976.
of the war, received as of 1900 a pension from the 36. Dionisio Martínez wrote Vázquez, telling him
that although ill, he would participate in the Sixth 44. Carlos A. Palacio, op. cit., pp. 21–22. The Ha-
American Chess Congress if his health improved. vana Chess Club survived until early 1960, but its
Eventually he did. death sentence was actually decreed in June 1947
37. The excerpt from Steinitz’s interview pub- with the founding of the Capablanca Chess Club of
lished in the April 6, 1883, issue of Turf, Field and Havana. In all, the Havana Chess Club existed for
Farm, p. 14, was taken from an undated copy of the 80 productive years.
Boston Herald. 45. This victory by Golmayo Zúpide was pub-
38. In other noteworthy results, Dionisio M. lished by El Moro Muza on March 13, 1864. In a se-
Martínez played in 1876 a long series of light games ries of encounters against Golmayo in February
against English master Henry Edward Bird, who lost 1864, Morphy tried to give him odds of a knight,
by a narrow margin of 24–21 and two draws; tied and ended with a negative balance of games won.
2–2 in a series in 1880 against Captain Mackenzie; 46. Andrés Clemente Vázquez, El Sr. J. H. Black-
and won over A.G. Sellman by 2–0 that same year. burne en La Habana (Havana, 1891), p. 4.
His son, Charles S. Martínez, won the junior cham- 47. The International Chess Magazine, April 1888,
pionship at the Franklin Chess Club in 1886 and p. 81.
later tied a 3-game series against Isidor Gunsberg (1– 48. El Fígaro, January 22, 1889.
1 and 1 draw); in 1889, he lost by the minimum, 2– 49. The old argument that the Steinitz–Chigorin
1 and 1 draw, against Hungarian master Mitsa (Max) match of 1889 was not a competition for the world
Weiss; tied Bird at 4–4 and 4 draws. In an even terms championship was resurrected again, more than a
game in 1902, Charles, born in Cuba in 1868, de- century later, by the Swede Anders Thulin, who was
feated the world chess champion Emanuel Lasker also unable to reach any definitive conclusion in his
(Reichhelm and Shipley, Chess in Philadelphia). study, but he was leaning toward considering that it
39. The Muñoz brothers were born in Venezuela was not for the championship.
and grew up in Cuba and the United States. Their 50. The most outstanding foreign visitors of the
father, Manuel Muñoz y Castro, was Venezuela’s con- 1883–1895 period were: Steinitz, in 1883, 1888, 1889
sul general in Cuba and later ambassador (at the time and 1892; Mikhail Chigorin in 1889, 1890 and 1892;
called “ministro”) of Caracas in Washington during Tassilo von Heydebrand und der Lasa, 1889; Isidor
President Ulysses S. Grant’s administration. At the Gunsberg, 1890; Henry Blackburne, 1891; George
time of his death, he worked in New York for the Mackenzie, 1887, 1888, 1889 and 1891; Mordecai
brokerage firm of the Spaniard-Cuban broker Manuel Morgan, 1890; Emanuel Lasker and Carl August
Ceballos. Walbrodt, 1893; Jean Taubenhaus, and Francis Lee,
40. El Museo, a weekly magazine published in Ha- 1894.
vana, states that Steinitz arrived on March 2, not be- 51. Vázquez, El Sr. J.H. Blackburne en La Ha-
fore, and on the same date played two blindfold bana, Havana, op. cit., pp. 3–4.
games, not just one, against Emilio J. Hidalgo, who 52. International Chess Magazine, (March 1892):
won the second one, having received knight’s odds. pp. 360–361.
Also reported was that on March 5, Steinitz’s rivals 53. Chigorin’s daughter from his second mar-
in the blindfold simultaneous games were Antonio riage, Olga Kusakova-Chigorina, wrote that her fa-
Fiol, Plácido Domínguez, Francisco Carricarte and ther was “a very nervous man who couldn’t stand
Eugenio Bernal. The exhibition began at 8:30 p.m. smells, especially tobacco’s. Hence, it is easy to imag-
and ended the next day at 1:30 a.m. (El Museo, Se- ine Chigorin’s discomfort.
manario Ilustrado de Literatura, Artes y Ciencias, 54. The history of the last game of the Steinitz–
March 11, 1883, p. 119). Chigorin 1892 match, with Dr. Finlay’s analysis, was
41. The Cuban Government confiscated the described by Andrés Clemente Vázquez in El Pablo
Union Club in 1960, which at the time had already Morphy, Vol. I, number 5 (February 15, 1892), p. 154.
moved from its original location in Zulueta and Nep-
tuno Street to 17 San Lázaro Street, close to Paseo
del Prado. Currently, the premises are part of the of- Chapter 2
fices of the City of Havana’s official historian.
42. The Brooklyn Chess Chronicle reported that 1. Because of the similarity in names, Capa-
the chess group used to meet at Corujo’s jewelry blanca’s great-grandfather will be identified as Judas
shop, but withheld the establishment’s name. It Tadeo, and his grandfather just as Tadeo. Judas
would be identified later in Gerardo Castellanos’s Tadeo Capablanca Diez was the son of Domingo
book, Panorama Histórico: Ensayo de Cronología Capablanca and María Josefa Diez Barceló. He grad-
Cubana desde 1842 a 1933 (Havana, 1935). uated with a bachelor of laws and canons degree
43. The Lyceum’s publication was called Periódico from the University of Alcalá de Henares, where in
del Liceo del Club de Matanzas (The Matanzas Liceo 1810 he taught canonic institutions and national
Newspaper.) Each issue used to include a game of local laws as a substitute. During 1812 he joined the
players, a chess problem, news and history of chess. Majorca Bar Association, since he could not do so
on the mainland because of the French occupation. 5. The lawyer Walter Penn Shipley, born June
His first official appointment came on May 27, 1815, 20, 1860, was one of the main chess players in, and
when the King named him corregidor (mayor) of the directors of , tournaments in Philadelphia, and for
Villa de Chinchón, 31 miles southeast of Madrid. many years was Capablanca’s host in that city. He
Judas Tadeo did not receive any official appointments wrote the Philadelphia Enquirer’s chess column for
from 1823 to 1833, probably as a consequence of his 34 years, coauthored the History of Chess in Philadel-
liberal position after the 1820 Revolution. The new phia, and won numerous city and state tournaments
French occupation in 1823 and the second abolition as an amateur player. He died at his home in Ger-
of the 1812 Cádiz Constitution brought a period of mantown, on February17, 1942, at the age of 81. New
repression that Judas Tadeo was unable to avoid, al- York Times, February 18, 1942, p, 19, section 3.
though as a child he had been a playmate of Fernando 6. Birth record of Domingo Capablanca Escot.
VII (born in 1784, like Judas Tadeo) at the Royal Family archive of Fernando A. Capablanca, Jr.
Palace, as documented in a letter from him to the 7. Ibid.
monarch, dated April 3, 1819. His proximity to the 8. “Quality testimonies” required for admission
king was due to the fact that his father, Domingo, to the officer’s school. Military dossier of Rafael
was the butler at the Royal Palace, according to the María Capablanca. General Military Archives of the
letter and also by testimony of Miguel Capablanca Ministry of Defense, Segovia, Spain. Ref.: 504/
González, his direct descendant. From his marriage AGMS S.T. No. 29751.
to María Mercedes Tentor there were two children: 9. Rafael María Capablanca Tentor y Marcoleta,
Rafael María and María Loredo; from his second mar- born in Madrid on September 4, 1808, was in the
riage, to María Josefa Broca, were born Trinidad, Spanish Army until May 30, 1860, and held the rank
Tadeo, Josefa María, María Patrocinio and Ana María. of colonel when he was discharged after 35 years of
Judas Tadeo died in Madrid on July 4, 1846. These service. The September 1, 1854, issue of the Madrid
facts are taken from his will, dated September 15, 1834, newspaper La Iberia, said, “Lieutenant Colonel Don
and from his “extracts and merits of the State Council Rafael Capablanca Marcoleta, son in law of General
Secretariat, pertaining to Grace, Justice, Proposals and Garrigó, has been named bayle [royal administrative
Government, Spain, June 12, 1820.” (Family archives representative] of the loyal patrimony of Valencia.”
of Fernando A. Capablanca, Jr., Miami, Florida, and According to Miguel Capablanca González, the Re-
Miguel Capablanca González, Valencia, Spain.) gent Queen María Cristina set up a trust in her will
2. Judge Judas Tadeo Capablanca Diez’s 282-page for the purpose of funding the military academy ex-
dossier can be found at the Spanish National Archives, penses of Rafael María Capablanca, as well as those
Ministry of Justice, file: FC-MO_JUSTICIA_ of his sons and grandsons who opted for a military
MAG_JUECES, 43060, EXP 1891. career. His first son Rafael Capablanca y Garrigó,
3. Francisco Fuertes Pérez, “Un hombre ilustre born in Madrid on December 29, 1866, also rose to
del Boisán,” Argutorio magazine, Asociación Cultural colonel of the General Staff and was retired on De-
Monte-Irago, Spain, no. 22/23 (1st Semester 2009). cember 20, 1923. He was with the reinforcements
4. The Capablanca surname (literally White sent by Spain to Cuba in 1895, when military hos-
Cape) comes from the sobriquet given to those who tilities were renewed. Capablanca Garrigó’s son,
stood out by the use of a white cloak, typical of sev- Rafael Capablanca Moreno, born on September 23,
eral religious orders during the Crusades. Fernando 1895, died in Morocco on July 23, 1920, with the
Aquiles Capablanca, Jr., José Raúl’s nephew and son rank of captain, when the native troops under his
of the well-known Cuban architect of the same command rebelled and killed him. (Information on
name, speculates that the name could have come the military career of Rafael Capablanca Marcoleta,
from a distant ancestor (Tessio Cappabianca) who his son and grandson is from the family archive of
was a member of the Order of Malta, whose uni- Fernando A. Capablanca, Jr., and Miguel Capablanca
forms included a distinct white cape with red crosses González.)
over the chest and back. Other orders, such as Cala- 10. Military dossier of Major Tadeo Capablanca
trava and the Teutonic Knights, among many others, Broca, Army of the Island of Cuba, General Military
also wore a luxurious white cape, but singling out the Archives, Segovia, Spain. From this point on, unless
Order of Malta, like Fernando A. Capablanca, Jr., indicated otherwise, all military references about
does, has the advantage of geographic proximity to Tadeo Capablanca are taken from his army records.
the place where the surname is assumed to have been Likewise, the quotations from José María Capa-
used for the first time. Besides, the island of Malta blanca come from his military records. Documents
was at the time a Spanish possession. Fernando also were obtained by the author thanks to the help of
found the earliest record of the surname Cappabi- the Sevilla writer and journalist Domingo del Pino
anca in the town of Aversa, near Naples. But docu- Gutiérrez.
ments of Domingo and his father Santiago show 11. The practice persisted 28 years after Tadeo’s
the Castilian family name of Capablanca and not arrival, when the birth of his grandson José Raúl was
the Italian Cappabianca or Capabianca. registered in the Book of Whites. Later, in the popu-
lation censuses a distinction was made between impression on him, and the feeling that the crime
whites born in Spain, and whites born in Cuba. covered Spain in opprobrium. According to Vázquez
12. In Cuba, Isla Abierta, Poblamiento y Apellidos in El Ajedrez Elemental, Havana, 1900, not only the
(San Juan, Puerto Rico: Capiro Editions, 1995), Cuban people, “but all men of tender heart loved
Cuban historian Leví Marrero indicates that the Ca- Golmayo since one cold and raining November
pablanca patronymic arrived in Cuba during the 19th morning, after arriving early at the Chess Club of
century. Marrero does not attempt to identify the Havana, and not knowing he was alone, tears rolled
subject that originated the first insular link, but just down his cheeks while reading a book about the hor-
leaves a record of the appearance of the initial signs rendous crime. Suddenly he threw it on a table and
of the patronymic in official documents, such as pas- exclaimed: “I cannot read this because I have chil-
senger lists, birth registries, baptisms and business dren and I am Spanish. The shooting of the students
contracts. In the case of the Capablanca surname the was a mistake, a huge misfortune, which I will clarify,
evidence points out with almost total certainty that and I will vindicate my country as a sign of harmony,
it was brought to Cuba by Tadeo Capablanca in love and lofty morals.”
1860. At least in Leví Marrero’s work there are no 15. Besides José María, they had Antonia, María,
traces on the island of Giácomo Perano’s son, a native Pilar, Alfonso, Antonio and probably others. In the
of Genoa, Italy, named Giácomo Capablanca and case of Alfonso, an uncle of José Raúl on the father’s
briefly identified as a “soldier and adventurer who side, his name was similar to Paul Morphy’s father,
was in the Flanders wars with the troops of Carlos I Alonzo. Capablanca once wrote that his father was
and Felipe II, and went on to Portugal where he had a poor chess player, unlike some of his uncles. In line
a bastard son with Princess Ana. That son later fled with his laconic style, he didn’t specify which ones.
to Cuba in 1620.” This laconic remark, appearing in It would have been a nice coincidence to learn that
digital reference heraldry, provides a more promising Alfonso was the sharpest of them.
lead if we consider that Giácomo’s nickname was Ca- 16. Tadeo applied for his marriage license on June
pablanca. Philologists have established that several 16, 1867, more than four years after the birth of his
nicknames, including those based on clothing, such son José María. It was granted in Madrid on October
as gamuza (suede) or a white cloak, have become sur- 18 of the same year, while he was deployed in the
names. In the case at hand, the possibility exists that city of Matanzas. When José María Capablanca was
Giácomo Perano’s descendants could have been born in 1863, the probative documents issued by the
called by the father’s nickname, Capablanca, whether Bayamo parish assured that he was the son of a “le-
in Portugal, Spain or Italy. gitimate matrimony.” Archbishop Claret’s concern
13. According to data provided by Cuban histo- to make sure that common law unions were conse-
rian Rafael Acosta, Carlos Manuel de Céspedes was crated in a Christian manner is explained in detail
able to face rivals without seeing the board, a clear in Leví Marrero’s Cuba, Economía y Sociedad, vol. 13
indication that he had a substantial grasp of the (Madrid: Editorial Playol, 1986), pp. 29–30.
game. On the date of Morphy’s second visit to the 17. Moreno Fraginals, op. cit., pp. 268–269.
island, Céspedes had already finished his law studies 18. It is not easy to establish an exact parallel be-
in France and Spain, but there is no evidence that tween Céspedes and the heroes of the U.S. war of
Carlos Manuel de Céspedes met Morphy in 1862 or independence. He was not a general in chief like
1864. George Washington, and unlike the latter did not
14. Hugh Thomas, Cuba: The Pursuit of Free- join the war but rather started it. Nor did he live to
dom, vol. 1, pp. 227–228. Thomas mentions with dis- see the end of the war, so he could not become the
dain the paramilitaries that became a great source of first head of state, although he was “President of the
contention between the Spanish upper and middle Republic [of Cuba] in Arms,” the executive body of
classes and the criollos in Havana. In November 27, the insurrects. He freed his slaves from the first day
1871, a group of those volunteers forced the execu- of the war, a decision that was ratified by the Cuba
tion of eight medical students, falsely accused of des- Constituent Assembly of Guaimaro, on April 10,
ecrating the tomb of a Spaniard journalist. In their 1869. Before Céspedes, Narciso López, a Spanish
intransigence, the volunteers also rebelled against the army general born in Venezuela, led armed expedi-
island’s governor, Domingo Dulce, and forced him tions against the colonial power on the island, losing
to return to Spain, for what they considered his his life after his capture in the last expedition. Cuban
weakness in dealing with Carlos Manuel de Céspedes historiography recognizes Céspedes as Father of the
and his supporters in Havana. The person in charge Homeland and sets him apart from López, whose
of the infamous platoon of executers was Ramón L. merits were diminished by his position favoring an-
Ayala, captain of the paramilitary’s volunteers. Ayala nexation by the United States. Being born in Cuba
was the same person who offered Celso Golmayo a instead of South America, and starting a genuine
room in the building of the postal administration popular rebellion that included the participation of
for a chess club in 1875. But Golmayo was a man of blacks and others of mixed race, gives him an enor-
honor, and the shooting of the students left a deep mous historical legitimacy in comparison to López,
whose expeditions were mainly integrated by merce- audited decree of H[is] E[xcellency] the Captain
naries paid by Cuban sugar interests, but also by General on October 16 as a result of the summary
slave-owning landholders and politicians of the proceedings of the soldier from his squadron Judas
southern United States interested in annexing Cuba Tadeo Simón—who was charged with offending him
and keeping the slavery system in the island. Regard- in deed—because of the little tact and scarce energy
ing Céspedes’ fondness for chess, it would be more he showed the day of the incident by not reducing
accurate if we compared him to Benjamin Franklin, the insubordinate to obedience and to cutting short
who has been recognized as the first renowned U.S. the racket he was making, almost letting the soldier
chess player, eventually in 1999 inducted into the trample all over him to the great detriment of mili-
U.S. Chess Hall of Fame for his pioneering status. tary discipline.”
This honor has been denied to Céspedes so far, be- 3. Interviews with Dr. José Raúl Capablanca, Jr.,
cause there does not yet exist in Cuba a Chess Hall and his aunts Graciela and Zenaida Capablanca.
of Fame. They corroborated that Loño was the officer who
19. Fraginals, op. cit., p. 296. In the same period, was playing with José María Capablanca.
163,176 civilians arrived in Cuba from the península 4. José A. Gelabert, Glorias del Tablero, Capa-
(continental Spain) and the Canary Islands, most of blanca (Havana, 1923), p. 15. Gelabert, a personal
them settling in Havana and other areas of the is- friend of Capablanca’s, wrote the first biography of
land’s west. The casualty list includes 80,686 missing Capablanca. His articles “Viejas Estampas del ajedrez
soldiers and officers. Fraginals considers that many cubano” (“Old Scenes of Cuban Chess”), published
of those were deserters whose numbers swelled the in different magazines at various times, offer unique
immigration flux to Cuba, and he shows evidence of (though not always accurate) details which otherwise
almost entire military units that went into hiding in would have been lost to posterity.
order to avoid being shipped back to Spain. 5. José R. Capablanca, “How I Knew to Play
20. As a child Tadeo was identified by his own fa- Chess,” Munsey’s Magazine, June 1916.
ther as José María, but after his progenitor’s death 6. Besides the historical anachronism, this ac-
he assumed the name Tadeo, a rather common prac- count by Gelabert cannot withstand the rigors of
tice at the time, for the purpose of preserving the historical analysis, for at the time the Steinitz–Chig-
family’s leading name. orin match was played ( January–February 1892),
21. Excepting the academies for lower ranking of- Capablanca’s father was on duty in Matanzas, and
ficers, Spain did not admit Cuban Creoles to its war later on campaign against rustlers from September
schools, unless they lived on the mainland. Military 15, 1892.
academies in Cuba graduated only low-ranking offi- 7. This reference to General Loño indicates the
cers, and in very low numbers. The class of José oldest of them, Emiliano, because Division General
María Capablanca, for example, had six members. Francisco did not come back to Cuba until 1896.
The colonial apprehension becomes understandable Olga Chagodaef-Capablanca was the first to men-
when we consider that many of the South American tion the identity of Loño for the American press in
independence leaders had been criollos educated in the magazine Chess World, 1964. All military refer-
the military arts by the Spanish army. ences about Emiliano Loño Pérez are taken from his
22. The last entry in Tadeo’s military record is army records: Army of the Island of Cuba, 504/
dated May 30, 1882. AGMS. S.T. 1879. Military Archive, Segovia, Spain.
23. “In Puerto Príncipe [presently Camagüey, 8. José R. Capablanca, “How I Knew to Play
Cuba], Cavalry Major D.[Don] Tadeo Capablanca, Chess,” Munsey’s, op. cit. In this account Capablanca
has committed suicide, after killing his wife, who ac- says that he learned to play as soon as he turned four.
cording to public knowledge was a model of virtue At that time, November or December 1892, he was
and honesty. This sad event was attributed to a fit of still living in Matanzas, but Loño had already been
mental alienation of the unfortunate suicide victim.” transferred to Havana; so it most likely happened in
La Correspondencia de España, Madrid, April 24, Havana during the first months of 1893. Capablanca
1884, front p. also wrote in the same article that his first fortuitous
encounter with chess took place at the fortress of El
Morro, but most probably took place in the nearby
Chapter 3 fortress of La Cabaña, the seat of an important
brigade and cavalry regiment, which was the military
1. Source: Military dossier of Captain José garrison where his father was transferred as Loño’s
María Capablanca Fernández, Army of the Island of aide-de-camp in January 1893, as shown in his and
Cuba, Military Archives, file 504/AGMS. S.T No. General Loño’s military records. For example: José
29751, Segovia, Spain. María Capablanca, military dossier, pp. 2.1–2: “…
2. José María’s military file shows that on No- until end of December [1892] discharge from 3rd
vember 27, 1886, he “went to Havana to undergo a Cavalry Regiment [Matanzas] and transfer January
one-month detention at the Castillo del Príncipe by 1 to Cabaña Fortress in active commission as aide of
Brigadier General don Emiliano Loño.” Vázquez in second in command of the Civil Guard (gendarmerie)
El Fígaro, October 8, 1893, wrote: “His father, the of Cuba.
honorable first lieutenant of Cavalry (of de la 16. Alexander Alekhine, Legado: Introducción al
Cabaña).” And in General Loño’s dossier, “By royal Curso de Ajedrez a Arturo Pomar (Madrid, 1946).
decree of December 7 [1892] is named Military 17. British Chess Magazine, March 1893, pp. 131–
Governor of the fortress of La Cabaña….” The doc- 132: “We regret to observe that by the latest news
uments were signed by the Queen Regent of Spain, from Havana there seems to be now little prospect
María Crístina, and published in the official news- of a match taking place there between Messrs. Lasker
paper of the Ministry of War, Diario Oficial, and Walbrodt. The whole world of chess was eagerly
Madrid, December 10, 1892, front page. looking forward to this contest, and it was fully un-
9. Munsey’s, op. cit. derstood long since that the two masters had been
10. The full-length photograph of the child Ca- invited by the generous Havana players to meet there
pablanca next to a chess board was first published in for that purpose, and that both accepted the invita-
the Havana magazine El Fígaro, on October 8, 1893, tion on those terms. It will therefore be a general dis-
when José Raúl was 4 years, 10 months and 19 days appointment to our readers to hear that the commit-
old. It most probably was taken a few weeks earlier tee of the Havana Club has failed in its repeated
by Taveira. efforts to bring about the match. There is no unwill-
11. Munsey’s, op. cit. ingness mentioned on the part of Herr Walbrodt,
12. Ibid. but only on that of Herr Lasker, who first declined
13. The first time José Raúl Capablanca visited to play for a stake of $750 a side, and then refused
the Havana Chess Club, it was located at 93 Prado to engage in a series of off-hand games for $5 each
Street, corner of Pasaje Alley (between Prado Boule- game. Next, consultation games were proposed for
vard and Zulueta Street, later named Ignacio Agra- $50 a side and finally six off-hand games for a purse
monte Street), just at the side of the El Pasaje cafe- of $150 to go to the winner of the majority….” De-
teria, part of the building of the Grand Hotel El spite his declining to face Walbrodt in Havana,
Pasaje. The information was provided by Vázquez Lasker played in 1893 a match against Jackson W.
in his magazine El Pablo Morphy 1 (1892), p. 159: Showalter, champion of the United States. The so
“After completion of the brilliant campaign of called first part of the event (Logansport, Indiana,
the Steinitz–Tchigorin match, the Havana Chess December 14–16, 1892) ended with a victory for
Club is set in a beautiful saloon, next to Café each opponent in what appeared to be a balanced
del Pasaje (Prado St., No. 93).” The place collapsed fight. But the resumption of the meeting on April 9,
on February 23, 1982. Presently there is a gym and 1893, in Kokomo, Indiana, resulted in an over-
boxing arena with the name of another Cuban leg- whelming victory by Lasker. If in 1892 (New York
end, Eligio Sardiñas, Kid Chocolate. The number is Sun, November 14, 1892) Lasker said he was not yet
now different, 519. fit to “meet the champion of the world,” the new vic-
14. Fragments of Vazquez’s article were rep- tory gave him the confidence to challenge Steinitz.
roduced in Barcelona, Spain, by La Ilustración The prowess and high rank of Lasker was more than
Artística, December 11, 1893, p. 802. So far, this evident after his resounding victory in the tourna-
is the first evidence of Capablanca’s name and feats’ ment of the Manhattan Chess Club (New York,
being mentioned outside of Cuba, but because October-November 1893) where he defeated all 13
of the extensive working relationships of Vázquez of his rivals, Pillsbury and Showalter among them.
in Spain, Mexico and South America, it cannot 18. In 1897, Vázquez knew that José María had
be ruled out that other magazines or newspaper been transferred from La Cabaña fortress to another
also printed the historical article or mentioned destination where “he fights bravely, fulfilling his mil-
it. itary duties.” In El Fígaro, March 1897, he wrote: “I
15. In the same edition of El Fígaro, October 8, know [ José Raúl] Capablanca lives and works hard
1893, Vázquez mentioned that it was the adminis- on his elementary studies, the pride and joy of his
trative army officer Captain Domingo Pérez del family.”
Castillo, a friend of Capablanca’s father, who took 19. Military dossier of José María Capablanca.
the boy for the first time to the Havana Chess Club. 20. José Raúl Capablanca was born at 1:45 a.m.
Pérez del Castillo was known to be a member. Capa- November 19, 1888, less than two hours after the end
blanca’s opponent in his first known game, Ramón of the day dedicated to St. Odon, a tragic religious
M. Iglesias, was another regular at the club; he was figure. His birth certificate does not mention where;
part of the “allies” party that played against Macken- it only says that his father was a resident in the “mil-
zie in his last game in Havana. Vázquez hints that itary hotel” and that his mother lived at the same
Capablanca’s father also was present at the place, ac- place. Two witnesses signed the certificate: Gabriel
companying his son, because in the same article he Vigil y Magon, second lieutenant of cavalry, also a
mentions a conversation with him about General resident of the military hotel, as well as Agustín
Loño. At the time, September 1893, Loño was the Morales y Escobar, single, and a mechanic by profes-
sion, residing at 18 Velázquez Street. The birth was Graupera, wife of Captain José Capablanca Fernán-
not registered until a full month later, December 18, dez, in the company of their children Salvador, Raúl,
1888. The “military hotel” was probably a guest Alicia, Graciela, Ramiro and María, respectively of
house for officers at the Príncipe Hill, just outside 12, 8, 6, 4, 3 years and 9 months of age, to be trans-
the walls of the fortress, where Capablanca’s 50th ported at the expense of the state, which will be re-
anniversary tribute plate was placed in November 19, funded from his salaries….” The military dossier of
1938, by Mario Figueredo and the Cuban National José María does not record his travel to Spain or any
Chess Federation. The original registration of Ca- further army destination while in the metropolis. For
pablanca’s birth was made at the Civil Registry of this reason, the author is convinced that the family
the El Pilar municipality, actually the El Cerro mu- trip out of Cuba never happened.
nicipality, Havana, Act 674, Tome 9; folio 160 V, by 27. People were reduced to eating practically any-
the judge Francisco Tabernilla García, and signed by thing they could find, because by 1899 there was
Leopoldo Irizar Domínguez, in charge of the civil barely an eighth left of the number of beef cattle
registry. that had been on the island in 1895, according to the
21. In the course of his inquiries, the author 1899 Cuban census, quoted by Thomas, op. cit., p.
could not find that the name Raúl had been used be- 553. See also the New York Times, February 16 and
fore him by any of the Capablanca ancestors on his 18, 1896.
father’s side. Maybe it was part of the full name of 28. Between September 3, 1896, and July 23,
Salvador, his maternal grandfather. At that time the 1897, two grandsons of Judas Tadeo Capablanca
full name of a person was up to ten different words fought in Cuba as officers of Spain: Captain José
long, as in the aforementioned case of Domingo, María and his first cousin, Captain Rafael Capa-
great-great-grandfather of Capablanca. blanca Garrigó, son of Colonel Rafael María Capa-
22. José Raúl Capablanca’s “bachillerato” of arts blanca, who on August 21, 1896, boarded the ship
and sciences diploma, given in Matanzas, July 1904, Antonio López in Cádiz as part of the reinforcements
includes an academic report card showing that he being sent to the island. Source: military records of
passed with an “Outstanding” mark his entrance Colonel Rafael Capablanca Garrigó (archive of Fer-
exams for the Institute for Secondary Education in nando A. Capablanca, Jr.).
Havana, dated September 10, 1897, when he was less 29. The Loño Pérez brothers, born on the island,
than 9 years old. are another example of the divided loyalty in a
23. Profesor Joaquín Mestre Jordi, Pasajes de Ca- Cuban family. While two of them, Emiliano and
pablanca en Matanzas, 1892, Serie Historia del De- Francisco, were generals of Spain, another one, Mar-
porte en la Provincia [de Matanzas] No. 2, Matanzas iano, was killed in action in 1870 as a colonel of the
1992 (series: Sport History of Matanzas). Mestre rebel troops after serving in the Spaniard army in
had the courtesy to research for the present work the Morocco.
information related to the tomb of the Capablanca 30. It has been incorrectly claimed that Capa-
family at the Havana cemetery. blanca’s maternal grandmother was born in Catalo-
24. The house where the Capablanca family lived nia, and that she taught the Catalonian language to
in the city of Santa Clara was on Buen Viaje Street, her grandson. Neither of these statements is correct.
close to its intersection with another street that José Raúl Fausto Capablanca’s birth certificate in the
would later be named Antonio Maceo, honoring the city of Havana identifies his maternal grandfather
hero of Cuban independence who fell in battle De- and grandmother as natives of Cataluña and Cuba,
cember 7, 1897. Unfortunately, the house number was respectively: Salvador Graupera y Segrera, born in
not included in a monograph written by local chess Canet del Mar, Barcelona, Spain; and Matilde Marín
historian Alberto Entrialgo, Ajedrez en Santa Clara de Noda, from “Artemira [Artemisa] in this prov-
(Santa Clara: Ediciones INDER, 1979). The Cuban ince.” The Cuban lineage of Capablanca’s maternal
International Chess Master, Ciro A. Fernández, was grandmother is also established on his baptismal
involved in the search for the house of the Capa- record: “book 11 of whites, p. 143, number 374” in
blanca family in Santa Clara. Matanzas, on March 9, 1889, where Matilde Marín
25. Letter to the author from Graciela Capa- de Noda appears listed (incorrectly) as a “native of
blanca, 1975. that city.” Capablanca’s maternal grandmother was
26. The document, part of the archive of Fer- related to the Cuban naturalist and learned Tran-
nando A. Capablanca, Jr., “Application for a passport quilino Sandalio de Noda, born in 1808 in Artemisa,
for the wife of Captain of Cavalry D. José Capa- Havana. In the magazine Good Companion 9, April
blanca Fernández and his 6 children. “Your Excel- 1922, Capablanca confirmed that he had three Span-
lency [Captain General of Cuba] I have the honor ish grandparents (Tadeo, Josefa María and Salvador)
of proposing to Y.[our] E.[xcellency], by virtue of and a Cuban one (Matilde). Both of Capablanca’s
the time left for evacuation [Spain had agreed to grandfathers (Tadeo and Salvador) had already died
evacuate all troops from Cuba by December 31, when he was born.
1898], that a passport be expedited for Mrs. Ma. 31. The last military entry of Captain José María
Capablanca is dated August 4, 1900, in Madrid, 38. On January 26, 1956, another 12-year-old
signed by the Secretary of the Queen Regent on be- child prodigy, Bobby Fischer, held a simultaneous
half of King Alfonso XIII, and it concedes to him exhibition at the Capablanca Chess Club in Havana
a “retirement to Madrid” with a monthly sum of 75 with 10 wins and 2 draws. His first exhibition of this
pesetas. As mentioned before, the Capablanca family type was held November 26, 1955, against 12 chil-
almost certainly never left Cuba. The late entry, dren of ages between 7 and 12, all of whom he beat.
when José María was not any longer part of the Army Alekhine made his debut as a player of simultaneous
of Spain, can be explained because the government games on February 19, 1910, in Moscow at 18 years
in Madrid took more than two years (since the end of age against 22 opponents, with a result of 15 wins,
of the war in Cuba) to make a decision about how 1 defeat and 6 draws.
much to pay the troops for their back wages. Evi- 39. Capablanca, My Chess Career (Devon, En-
dence that José María was not in Madrid include Ca- gland: Hardinge Simpole, 2003), p. 4.
pablanca’s recollections in Munsey’s magazine, 1916, 40. From the official point of view Capablanca
and Crítica, Buenos Aires, September 20, 1939, that was right, because the rules of the match published
his father took him to Pillsbury’s exhibitions during in Diario de la Marina (November 16, 1901) stated:
the month of March 1900. “The match will be held under the rules of the
32. Crítica, op. cit. Two different issues of the Hand-Book for serious confrontations. The winner
British Chess Magazine, May and June of 1900, re- will be whoever achieves the better score in seven
ported Pillsbury’s visit. The most extensive informa- games, draws not counting.”
tion appeared on p. 189 of the May edition: “We 41. Capablanca, My Chess Career, p. 6. When in
have received an interesting letter from José O’Farril, 1927, the Argentinian master Arnoldo Ellerman
the energetic Secretary of the Havana Chess Club, asked Capablanca why he had never mentioned that
giving an account of Mr. Pillsbury’s visit. He arrived Gyula Breyer’s famous analysis of the opening of the
by invitation from the Club on March 12 and stayed 10th game of his 1921 match with Lasker was inac-
at Havana a week, during which he played several curate, to which Capablanca responded: “I did know
single offhand games with Señor Ruiz, Corzo and that Breyer was wrong, but did not see the point of
Vazquez, Dr. Reyes Gavilán, with great success; a saying it” (Mundo Argentino, November 1, 1949).
consultation game against Señor Blanco, Delmonte 42. Capablanca introduction’s words to My Chess
and Ruiz, which was drawn; 42 simultaneous games, Career, op. cit., pp. xv–xvi.
mostly allowing his opponents to consult with oth- 43. José A. Gelabert in his article “Corona Fúne-
ers, of which he won 38; and two blindfold exhibi- bre a José Raúl Capablanca,” reproduced in Tribute
tions, in the first of which with ten opponents, he to Capablanca (Havana, 1943), pp. 60–70, included
won 8, and in the second with 16 opponents, he won the only known reference about Capablanca’s child-
11, lost 4 and drew 1….” In the other edition ( June hood outside of chess, when Gelabert described a
1900, p. 231) the magazine added: “In the blindfold young Capablanca participating in a children’s “sack
games he often took only one or two seconds to make race” in the town of Aguacate.
the moves.” As a result of his successful visit the 44. In this tournament, Corzo ended in first place
board of Havana Chess Club made the decision that: with 8½. When the crosstable was published for the
“His portrait will be placed among those celebrated first time in Diario de la Marina, April 30, 1902, it
players which adorn the walls of the club.” was printed vertically in order to save space, so the
33. On the demise of Golmayo, Vázquez wrote: readers had to rotate the newspaper 90 degrees to
“Just a few days before his death, after having sur- the left in order to read it, something highly unusual.
vived a violent lung paroxysm, he called on me at the The crosstable was reproduced in the classic book
Consulate General of Mexico, and told me with gen- The Unknown Capablanca, by David Hooper and
tle melancholy: “As long as you live, my name will Dale Brandreth (New York: R.H.M. Press, 1975), p.
not perish. I know that your indefatigable pen will 117.
always evoke his friend of forty years… .” Andrés 45. This game was originally published in Diario
Clemente Vázquez, El Ajedrez Magistral, vol. 3 (Ha- de la Marina, February 5, 1902, and identified the
vana, 1900), p. 88. White player as Juan, not Enrique, Corzo. Juan
34. Juan Corzo, El Fígaro, April 25, 1909. Corzo himself, in Revista de Ajedrez de México, Feb-
35. J.R. Capablanca, My Chess Career. ruary 1938, clarified that White had been his brother
36. Manuel Márquez Sterling identified Marceau Enrique. Miguel Alemán, former Cuban chess cham-
as a “Puerto Rican chess player” in the Revista del Club pion, alerted the author that it had been a game be-
Argentino de Ajedrez, October-December 1907, p. 149. tween Enrique Corzo and Capablanca.
37. Rafael Blanco Esteras (1885–1956) later be- 46. Graciela Capablanca recounted colorful de-
came one of Cuba’s leading chess players, and one of tails of the life of her family in Aguacate, where var-
the nation’s most famous cartoonists. He accompa- ious sources confirm that her father served as judge.
nied Capablanca to the 1939 Tournament of Nations A letter by Capablanca dated July 25, 1904, is written
in Buenos Aires. on stationery with the letterhead of Aguacate’s mu-
nicipal court. Also the U.S. national chess master life from the mid–1930s, when he helped the former
Waldo Serrano, who was born in Aguacate, Cuba, champion to obtain a grant from the Cuban govern-
recalls that the marriage certificate of his paternal ment for his revenge match against Alekhine. The
grandparents, dated 1906 or 1907, had been signed grant never materialized. For many years, up to the
by Judge José María Capablanca. mid–1950s, he was in correspondence with Olga Ca-
47. That house was declared a provincial land- pablanca. Figueredo died in Havana, January 8, 1960.
mark in 1990. The plaque placed on its façade says: 57. Family archive of Mercedes Capablanca, who
“In this house lived while studying at the Instituto owns the original.
of Matanzas Cuban Chess Genius Jose Raul Capa- 58. American Chess Bulletin, February 1907, pp.
blanca y Graupera. On the 102nd anniversary of his 23–27.
birth. Sports History Comission.”
48. Regarding Mateo Fiol role as tutor: probably
he only served as such to help Capablanca prepare Chapter 4
his graduation papers at the Matanzas Secondary In-
stitute, because the subject of the thesis, logic and 1. In his book Chess and Its Stars (Philadelphia:
psychology, was taught by Fiol at the same school. David McKay, 1936), Brian Harley wrote a humor-
49. The house where the Capablancas lived in ous open letter to Alekhine, in which he confessed
Aguacate, which still exists, is number 1606 of what the agony of trying to pronounce his very confusing
is now 37th Street. The sugar mill “Rosario,” later name: “Twenty years ago you were ‘Aljekhin’; then
“Rubén Martínez Villena,” stopped production in you suffered a ‘c’ change to ‘Aljechin’; and then again
2002. we met with ‘Alechin.’ We thought you had attained
50. Ramón Pelayo was well remembered in Agua- with your French citizenship, the ultimate stage with
cate, Cuba, as well as in Valdecillas, Spain, as a phi- ‘Alekhine.’ And now, in an article in a chess magazine
lanthropist. He returned to his country of origin in you sign yourself ‘Alekhin.’ … So, I implore you, Mas-
1920, after selling his sugar mill for $8 million, more ter, to make an announcement of a final, fixed, and
than double what he had planned to ask for it. For unalterable version, and to stick to it.”
his charity work he was made Marquis of Valdecillas. 2. The Chess Weekly, initially edited by the
He died in 1932. Magro Bahamonde and J.C. Cayuela American of English birth William Ewart Napier,
Fernández, Hacer las Américas (Madrid: Alianza Ed- the Canadian Magnus Smith, and Charles Nugent,
itorial, 1992), pp. 45–64. began publishing in June 1908 in Brooklyn. Capa-
51. There was a shorter letter enclosed: “Secre- blanca was its editor for 12 issues: from January to
tary of the Matanzas Institute for Secondary Educa- April 1910, when the magazine closed.
tion. / Dear Sir, / By reason of having been granted 3. “When leaving Europe last month, I expected
the Bachelor of Arts and Sciences diploma in my to take a little rest while in America, but as my ex-
name on the 5th day of the current month [ July] I penses have been rather heavy I have changed my
was asked by your Institute for a copy of my birth mind, and am now quite ready to play a chess match
certificate from the Civil Registry, which I gave. / with any one in the United States for a side bet of
And being in need of a certified copy of the docu- $600 or a purse of $300; provided that I be given
ment, I beseech you to please forward it to me at reasonable notice, so that the event shall not clash
your earliest convenience. / Yours Truly / José Raul with my previous engagements. Also I should expect
[sic] Capablanca / July 25/1904 / Aguacate Máximo my expenses paid during the match” (The Chess
Gómez 5.” Weekly, January 20, 1909).
52. Juan Corzo, Diario de la Marina, April 7, 4. American Chess Bulletin, December 1908, p.
1906, p. 7. 250.
53. In writing about him, Vázquez almost invari- 5. If such confusion occurred in Lasker’s Chess
ably gave his name incorrectly as E. Ettlinger or even Magazine, it’s not difficult to imagine the way other
Ernest Ettlinger. publications wrote the Cuban’s name. Edward Winter
54. Edward Winter, Capablanca: A Compendium mentions that in his research for his book Capablanca:
of Games, Notes, Articles, Correspondence, Illustra- A Compendium, he found the newspapers Des Moines
tions … ( Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland, Register and Des Moines Tribune of February 3, 1909,
1989), p. 11. This will hereafter be identified as Win- called him, à la Portuguese, “Jose Capa de Branca”;
ter, Capablanca: A Compendium…. and the Lexington Leader called him “Copablanca.”
55. Capablanca’s granddaughter, Mercedes Capa- In other newspapers appeared “Copoblanca,” “Capa-
blanca de Medina, gave the author a copy of her blaca,” “Cappablanca,” and “Capablanc.”
grandfather’s private academic file at Columbia Uni- 6. Rogelio Caparrós, The Games of José Raúl Ca-
versity. pablanca, 2nd edition (Dallas: Chess Digest, 1994),
56. The attorney Mario Figueredo, who with p. 157.
Juan Corzo cofounded the National Chess Federa- 7. American Chess Bulletin, May 1909, p. 109.
tion of Cuba, was an important figure in Capablanca’s The game against Rosenthal was published in The
Games of José Raúl Capablanca, by Caparrós, p. 159. Base; J.F. Lang, J.T. Blackber, Left Field; R.V. Mahon,
And both games appeared in The Unknown Capa- Center Field; J.D. Scheuer, Right Field; R.W.
blanca, by David Hooper and Dale Brandreth, pp. Stephenson was the captain and A.F. Jong, the Man-
102 and 106, respectively. ager.”
8. Decoration Day was so named because of the 15. The final data of the tour as they appeared in
decorations placed on the graves during the last Sun- American Chess Bulletin, April 1909, p. 87, were:
day in May to commemorate the Union and Con- Games Won Lost Drawn
federate soldiers who died in the Civil War. It was Simultaneous 590 560 12 18
changed in the 20th century to Memorial Day. Single games 130 126 2 2
9. Robert J. Fischer in an October 16, 2006, in- Totals 720 686 14 20
terview on the Icelandic radio program Utvarp Saga. 16. José A. Gelabert, “Viejas Estampas del Ajedrez
10. José A. Gelabert, Glorias del Tablero: Capa- Cubano,” Capablanca Magazine, October-December
blanca (Havana, 1923), p. 17. 1945.
11. Author’s interview with Zenaida Capablanca 17. Many years after the failed attempt to stop
in 1974. Additional details were provided by Graciela the Capablanca–Marshall match, no less than the
Capablanca in Hialeah, Florida, December 1980, fight for the world title between the champion Ana-
after the printing of the earlier version of the present toly Karpov and the challenger Garry Kasparov,
work in Havana, 1978. Both provided the author in- played in 1984 –85 in Moscow, was ended by the
formation about the family’s life in the town of president of the International Chess Federation
Aguacate and the relationship with Ramón Pelayo. without decision after 48 games. In this match there
12. Carlos A. Palacio, Ajedrez en Cuba, p. 22. Al- were two long series of draws; the first of 17 games
though Palacio says this change of job might have and the second of 15.
happened by 1904, the April 1906 letter from José 18. Actually, none of the provisions of the
Raúl to his mother established that this actually oc- Showalter–Pillsbury match of 1897 said it was for
curred later. the championship of the United States. Pillsbury
13. In his humorous style, not intended to reflect himself stated that he would not accept the title if
reality, the American writer of manners Quentin he won. But even so, after his victory everybody saw
Reynolds, in his March 2, 1935, article “One Man’s him as the American national champion.
Mind” for Collier’s magazine, reduced the entire uni-
versity episode to an excuse to play baseball: “It was
like this: Columbia University had very good ball Chapter 5
teams in those days and Capablanca wanted to play
for Columbia. To play for Columbia he had to be a 1. José González, owner of the Vicente Salgado
student. To be a student he had to know English. So and a chess enthusiast, provided the tug free of
he set to work learning English.” charge for the welcome. None of the Havana news-
14. A possible indirect evidence of Capablanca’s papers identified the names of the members of the
attempt to play baseball professionally and the injury Capablanca family who attended, but of the direc-
suffered is that he didn’t make his final test of phys- tors of the Havana Chess Club: León Paredes, Juan
ical preparation at the university, according to his Corzo, Manuel Márquez Sterling and Rafael Blanco.
official academic record. In My Chess Career, he said In the photographs of the event, his parents Matilde
that during his months at Columbia University, “I and José María are visible.
had done a great deal of physical sport,” referring al- 2. The 1909 picture of Capablanca father and
most certainly to his participation on the baseball son was possibly taken again by Taveira himself, who
team. Additional data about this appear in Edward then had his studio at 66 Aguacate Street, in Havana,
Winter, Chess Facts and Fables ( Jefferson, North Car- and enjoyed fame for his images of the Cuban fields
olina: McFarland, 2006, p. 209), under the heading and railways. It was a photo with a message of rec-
“Spot the Chess Master.” It’s a photo from the Co- onciliation that they gave as a present to members
lumbia baseball team of the Class of 1910, taken and friends of the family. One of the most beautiful
from the 1909 magazine The Columbian (p. 140). reproductions was in the Dutch magazine New in
Among the players, Capablanca is the third from the Chess, 2012, issue 3.
left on the last row, as part of the “1910 Baseball 3. According to Gelabert (quoted in Palacio, op.
Team.” According to the data this was the freshman cit., p. 50) after his defeat at the hands of René
team of the university, not the varsity team, but some Portela, Capablanca, wounded in pride, challenged
of the players in the photography look older than all the players to a simultaneous exhibitions on Sep-
rookie students. The names of the members ap- tember 14, 1909, and in a spirit of revenge the Cuban
peared in the Yearbook as a caption of the picture: master turned his attention to Portela, to the point
“R.W. Stephenson, Catcher; T. Thornton, Pitcher; that he was the first to surrender. Diario de la Ma-
L. Schroeder, First Base; J.R. Capablanca, Second rina, September 15, 1909, p. 4, printed a brief news
Base; D.V. Weed, Short Stop; E.P. Marilley, Third of the exhibition, held in the cultural society Ateneo
de la Habana, in which Capablanca played against chess champion and a friend of Capablanca. Romero
25 opponents, including Gelabert himself, Juan lent the documents to this author for his research
Corzo, Rafael Blanco, Raúl Adler and Rafael Baca- work in the 1970s. In the papers also were many let-
Arús, then the most prominent players of the island. ters from Olga Capablanca to Mario Figueredo (see
The only loss was because Capablanca touched the fragments of one example in the epilogue). From
wrong piece and immediately resigned the game. The now on, the material quoted from this source will be
draw was made by José A. Jover, another old timer identified as “Figueredo-Romero archive.”
of the club. The simultaneous series against Juan 12. National Archives of the United States of
Corzo, Blanco and Portela do not appear in the Americas: Registry of Ship’s Passengers.
Hooper and Brandreth book. Gelabert also explained 13. Paulino Alles Monasterio, Match por el Título
that René Portela later become a close friend of Ca- Mundial Capablanca-Alekhine, Buenos Aires, 1927.
pablanca, and in some magazine is cited as “godfather” Supplement No. 37 of the magazine Ajedrez (Edito-
of Capablanca during his match against Lasker for the rial Sopena, Argentina), July 1978, p. 22.
world championship. Other reliable sources mention 14. Manuel Márquez Sterling was born in Lima,
Márquez Sterling in that capacity. Portela died in 1924 Peru, on Aug ust 28, 1872, as his father, Adolfo
at the age of 36 after a mental illness. Márquez Sterling, was there as a delegate (ambas-
4. The Havana newspapers Diario de la Marina sador) of the pro-independence group Junta Revolu-
and La Discusión both published on August 22 this cionaria Cubana to the government of this South
first game by Capablanca in a blindfold exhibition. American nation. He was several times president of
According to Juan Corzo the first blindfold exhibi- the Havana Chess Club and “godfather” of Capa-
tion by a Cuban player was offered by Guillermo blanca in his match for the world chess champi-
López in 1893, on the occasion of the launching of onship of 1921.
the book Ajedrez de memoria by Andrés Clemente 15. According to many historians, including John
Vázquez. A year later, December 23, 1910, Capa- Donaldson and Nicolay Minev in The Life and
blanca took revenge against Corzo, Blanco and Games of Akiva Rubinstein (Milford, Connecticut:
Portela (in place of Rensoli), in another blindfold Russell Enterprises, 2006), the correct way to write
game in which he won a fine endgame. the name of the Polish master is Akiva. Their advice
5. Cuban journalist Víctor Muñoz (1873–1922) is followed in this work.
described the unfinished baseball game in the news- 16. Capablanca, My Chess Career, pp. 52–53.
paper El Crisol on July 21, 1909. 17. Capablanca, “El 2° Torneo de San Sebastián:
6. The Chess Weekly, October 2, 1909. Some Juicio respecto a los vencedores,” Capablanca Maga-
masters did not take Capablanca’s statement lightly. zine, April 25, 1912.
A few years later, when both the Serbian Borislav 18. The story is cited by many, including Hans
Kostić and the American Frank J. Marshall chal- Kmoch and Fred Reinfeld in “Unconventional Sur-
lenged the Cuban, before he was world champion, render,” Chess Review, February 1950. However, this
they both did it for the title of “Pan American article mentions neither the year of competition, nor
Champion.” that the adversary of Nimzowitsch was Sämisch.
7. A. Alekhine—J. Gajdos [D32] 19. Capablanca, My Chess Career, p. 61.
Düsseldorf, 8 December 1908
1. d4 d5 2. Nf3 c5 3. c4 e6 4. c×d5 e×d5 5. Nc3
Nc6 6. Bf4 Nf6 7. e3 c4 8. Be2 Bb4 9. 0–0 B×c3 Chapter 6
10. b×c3 Ne4 11. Qc2 f5 12. Nd2 0–0 13. f3 N×d2
14. Q×d2 Be6 15. Rab1 b6 16. Rfd1 Ne7 17. a4 1. Maybe not too many of the readers under-
Qe8 18. a5 b5 19. a6 Qc6 20. Qb2 Bd7 21. Qa3 stood the allegory, based on the poem “Casabianca”
Ng6 22. Be5 Rfe8 23. f4 Re6 24. g4 Ne7 25. e4 g6 by British poet Felicia Dorothea Hernans, first pub-
26. e×d5 Q×d5 27. Rf1 Bc6 28. Bf3 Qd7 29. d5 lished in the New Monthly Magazine, August 1826,
B×d5 30. Rfd1 b4 31. Q×b4 Rb6 32. Q×e7 Q×e7 which was very popular in the early 20th century in
33. B×d5+ Kf8 34. B×a8 Qh4 35. Bg2 R×b1 England and the United States. The poem commem-
36. R×b1 Q×g4 37. h3 Qg3 38. Bd4 Q×f4 orates an incident that occurred in 1798 during the
39. B×a7 Qd6 40. Ra1 Black resigned. Battle of the Nile aboard the French ship Oriente.
8. American Chess Bulletin, February 1910, p. 87. According to the story, the young Giocante Casabi-
9. The Chess Weekly, February 5, 1910, front p., anca (his age is variously given as 10, 12 or 13), son
p. 149. of the commander Louis de Casabianca, remained
10. ABC, Madrid, May 12, 1932. at his post and perished when the flames caused the
11. These fragments of letters between Capa- magazine to explode. The poem opens: “The boy
blanca and Paredes were part of a collection of his- stood on the burning deck /Whence all but he had
torical correspondence of the Havana Chess Club fled; / The flame that lit the battle’s wreck / Shone
which initially was in the care of Dr. Mario Figueredo round him o’er the dead” (source: “Casabianca” in
and later of Dr. Rosendo Romero, former Cuban Wikipedia).
2. “Casey at the Bat” was written by Ernest 10. The high-blood pressure illness not only af-
Thayer in 1888, the same year of the birth of Capa- fected Capablanca and his brothers, but even their
blanca. At the time it was one of the most popular descendants. Tadeo Salvador in 1940; José Raúl,
ballads of baseball in the United States. A few days 1942; Ramiro, 1944; and Fernando Aquiles in 1962
before, on December 10, 1911, Capablanca played 10 were its first victims, then it passed to the next gen-
rivals at the Rice Chess Club with the use of the Rice eration. The son of the world champion, Dr. José
Gambit. He won 4, lost 3 ( J. Tennenwurzel, J. Menkes Raúl Capablanca Jr., suffered from it; it was the di-
and L. Bernstein) and draw 3, according to The rect cause of the fatal heart attack he suffered in
Brooklyn Daily Eagle, December 11, 1911, p. 14. This 1983. Sergio Gustavo Salvador Capablanca, son of
result was not included in Hooper and Brandreth. the world champion’s elder brother, also died of a
3. Diario de la Marina, December 19, 1911, p. 2. stroke in 1997. See Appendix II in the present work:
4. Carlos A. Palacio, in his book Ajedrez en Cuba: “The Illness and Death of José Raúl Capablanca,”
Cien Años de Historia (p. 59), wrote that the first by Dr. Orlando Hernández-Meilán.
game of chess with living pieces in Cuba was played 11. The Cuban writer Guillermo Cabrera Infante
in 1898, in the Teatro Sauto in Matanzas, but Pro- in his story “Capa, Son of Caissa,” published in
fessor Joaquín Mestre Jordi questioned the data in Lunes de Revolución, Monday, December 26, 1960,
his research Pasajes de Capablanca en Matanzas, said that Capablanca forced the organizers to empty
Matanzas, 1992, because he did not find any refer- the room before surrendering against Marshall,
ence to such a game in the newspapers of the time. which also does not seem to be supported by facts.
5. New York Evening Post, May 15, 1912. 12. José Raúl Capablanca, Torneo Internacional
6. In Diario de la Marina, August 25, 1912, p. 10, de Ajedrez, La Habana, 1913 (Havana: Avisador
a total of the “Cuba’s gift to Capablanca” was pub- Comercial, 1913).
lished with a balance collected through the 23rd of 13. Ibid.
August: “American gold $1,676; Spanish gold, 14. “A prophet is not without honor, but in his
$1,359.52; Spanish silver $1,668.” According to the own country, and among his own kin, and in his own
note, the collection was carried out using stubs that house.” Jesus in the Gospel of St. Mark 6:4.
dozens of associations or persons were in charge of. 15. The note referred to in the letter is actually a
In Capablanca Magazine (September 15, 1912, p. brief resume written by Capablanca: “Overall data
149) it was reported that León Paredes gave the proof José Raúl Capablanca: Jose Raul Capablanca y
ceeds to Capablanca, without mentioning the final Graupera was [Capablanca refers to himself in the
figure. At that time another public collection, to help third person] born in Havana, November 19, 1888
the English master Henry Blackburne, added $6.75. (24 years six months old). Single. High school degree
7. The image was published on October 27, 1912, in philosophy and arts, he passed the REGENT EX-
but the caption carried a clarification: “Picture taken AMINATIONS to enter Columbia University in
on last February 12, during the visit made by the New York, where he took several subjects in chemical
Cuban chess champion to the big sugar mill Chap- engineering. He speaks Spanish, English, and French
arra. Capablanca appears with a jipijapa hat, dressed perfectly and has some knowledge of German.
in the clothes of General Menocal and riding a Skilled and fast in accounts and calculations. He has
Moorish horse owned by the chieftain.” great capacity and memory, especially for numbers.
8. The leaflet was signed by Dana Welles, a pass- He is a good physiognomist and enjoys excellent
ing name in the history of chess. But the historian health and physical development. His parents are
Edward Winter states convincingly in his digital col- José María Capablanca y Fernández from Bayamo,
umn Chess Notes, C.N. 3559, that Dana Welles and Santiago de Cuba, employee, and María Graupera
F. D. Rosebault are the same person. Rosebault then Marín, from Matanzas, both residents of Vedado Ha-
(in 1920, according to Winter) changed his name to vana. / May 26/1913 / José Capablanca.” / Republic
Frederick Dana Welles because of his bad reputation of Cuba. Compendio Documental: José Raúl Capa-
after the great New York–Havana tournament dis- blanca y Graupera, Havana: Ministry of Foreign Af-
aster. fairs, Directorship of Documentation. Facsimile edi-
9. A formal inquiry (Number 1192515) to the Of- tion. Version 1. Havana 2002, p. 3 (The original
fice of Statistics and Registry of the State of New spelling has been retained).
Jersey about the wedding certificate of José R. Ca- 16. Ibid., p. 2 (original spelling retained).
pablanca in 1912, received the response: “There is 17. Ibid., p. 4 (original spelling retained).
not any record on file for the marriage of Jose R. Ca- 18. In New York, 1893, Lasker played against
pablanca and Eleonor [sic] Young.” Document No: Adolf Albin, Eugene Delmar, Francis Lee, Jackson
A0008476376/ Nov 21, 2012. If the news of the Showalter, James Hanham, Harry Nelson Pillsbury,
wedding by Helms prove to be truth, most probably Jean Taubenhaus, William Pollock, John Ryan, Louis
the bride was not Miss Young. The information Schmidt, Nicolai Jasnogrodsky, Edward Olly and
about the supposed wedding was published in Diario George Gossip. In 1963-64, Fischer’s adversaries
de la Marina, October 27, 1912, p. 9. were Larry Evans, Pal Benko, Anthony Saidy, Samuel
Reshevsky, Robert Byrne, Raymond Weinstein, 6. Data from Vlastimil Fiala and Jan Kalen-
Arthur Bisguier, William Addison, Edmar Mednis, dovský’s Complete Games of Alexander Alekhine, vol.
Robert Steinmeyer and Donald Byrne. 1: 1892–1921 (Olomouc, Czech Republic: Moravian
Chess, 1992).
7. Capablanca refers to 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3.
Chapter 7 Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. 0–0 N×e4 6. d4 b5 7. Bb3 d5
8. d×e5 Be6 9. c3 Be7 10. Nbd2 Nc5 11. Bc2 d4, the
1. The totals in simultaneous displays of that famous move of Tarrasch in his first game against
third tour in 17 different European cities were: 769 Lasker in St. Petersburg, 1914. Capablanca consid-
wins, 86 losses and 91 draws in 946 games, according ered that with 12. Ne4 White ended better in all vari-
to Hooper and Brandreth in The Unknown Capa- ations. These analyses were published by the Cuban
blanca. master in Capablanca Magazine, June-July 1914, and
2. Gonzalo de Quesada y Aróstegui was one of also appeared in José Pérez Mendoza, Ajedrez en Ar-
the closest persons to the Cuban independence gentina (Buenos Aires, 1920), pp. 425– 429.
leader José Martí in New York during the prepara- 8. The game was published by Edward Winter
tions for the Cuban insurrection of 1895. He died in A Chess Omnibus (Milford, Connecticut: Russell
in Berlin in 1915. His son, the diplomat Gonzalo de Enterprises, 2003), p. 131:
Quesada Miranda, was also a friend of Capablanca. Capablanca—A.Kramer [C27]
3. Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, pp. 8– Simultaneous display. Tartu, Estonia, 1914.
9. 1. e4 e5 2. Nc3 Nf6 3. Bc4 Bc5 4. d3 d6 5. f4? Ng4
4. Sergei Prokofiev Diaries 1907–1914 (London, 6. f×e5 Nf2 7. Qf3 0–0 8. Qg3 N×h1 9. Qf3 Qh4+
2006). 0–1
5. The game Capablanca—G. Thomas [C66] 9. The request, on the letterhead of the Con-
Hastings Victory Congress. 14 August 1919 sulate of the Republic of Cuba in St. Petersburg,
had one of the more unexpected postmortem con- said in part: “Mr. Secretary [of State of Cuba]: I
clusions in the history of chess: 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 hereby have the honor to request a [leave] License
3. Bb5 d6 4. Nc3 Nf6 5. d4 Be7 6. 0–0 Bd7 7. Re1 for two months, starting the first of February, to ad-
N×d4 8. N×d4 e×d4 9. Q×d4 B×b5 10. N×b5 a6 dress issues of a personal nature in Europe. Given
11. Nc3 0–0 12. Bg5 Nd7 13. B×e7 Q×e7 14. Nd5 the short time available to receive a reply by letter, I
Qd8 15. Re3 Ne5 16. Rg3 f6 17. f4 Nc6 18. Qc3 ask you to communicate to me your resolution by
Rf7 19. f5 Qf8 20. Qb3 Kh8 21. Nf4 Ne5 22. Q×b7 cable. J. R. Capablanca.” Capablanca Diplomatic
Rb8 23. Q×a6 R×b2 24. Rb3 R×c2 25. Rab1 h6 Compendium, p. 10.
26. Ng6+ N×g6 27. f×g6 Re7 28. Rb8 Re8 10. The Unknown Capablanca, Hooper and Bran-
29. Qa8? (see diagram) dreth, p. 1.
cuuuuuuuuC 11. Paul Keres and Alexander Kotov, The Art of
{Q$wDr1wi} the Middle Game (New York: Dover, 1989), p. 93.
{Dw0wDw0w} 12. Lasker’s comment appeared in the newspaper
{wDw0w0P0} The Speech after completing the first part of the tour-
{DwDwDwDw} nament on May 6. The final phase of the event began
{wDwDPDwD} May 10. On May 9, there was a reception for the play-
{DwDwDwDw} ers. Although the date is not specified by Panov or
{PDrDwDP)} the Linders, Lasker’s chronicle should have appeared
{DRDwDwIw} between May 7 and May 10. According to Vasily
vllllllllV Panov in his book Capablanca (Barcelona: Martínez
And now Thomas resigned. For many years Black- Roca, 1973, p. 37), the Cuban’s defeat by Lasker con-
burne was said to be the discoverer of the blunder, tributed to a night in which “Capablanca proceeded
but British Chess Magazine, January 1988, noted that with a surprising levity on the eve of his decisive
the mysterious onlooker who saw the right move was game against the world champion, because as he
the chess journalist and strong player Brian Harley. didn’t have to play that day, he was in a festive mood
He proposed the move 29. … R×a2! Now it is White in a luxurious restaurant, surrounded by friends and
who has to try to save the game with 30. Q×a2 R×b8 admirers.”
31. R×b8 Q×b8 32. Qe6. When Capablanca was told 13. Sergei Prokofiev, The Young Years (New York:
about his mistake, he said: “I am not one of those Cornell University Press, 2008), p. 646.
foolish people who make excuses for everything; it 14. Capablanca Magazine, June 1914, pp. 65–67.
was a complete oversight.” Instead of this, Capa- 15. Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, p. 11.
blanca could have obtained an easy victory with 29. 16. Ibid., p. 13.
R×e8 Q×e8 30. Qa4 R×g2+ 31. K×g2 Q×g6+ 32. 17. The decree, signed by President García
Kf2. Or even better 29. Qb5 Rc1+ 30. Kf2 Rc2+ 31. Menocal at the Presidential Palace of Cuba and
Ke3 R×b8 32. Q×b8 Kg8 33. Qb3+. dated June 25, 1914, said: “By the powers that are
conferred to me and on the proposal of the Secretary ing of a German squadron in the vicinity of the Falk-
of State, I DECIDE: To accept the resignation pre- land (Malvinas) Islands.
sented by Mr. José Raúl Capablanca y Graupera to 3. On this occasion, Capablanca visited cities
the post of Chancellor first class of the Cuban Lega- known to him, such as Washington, Troy, Utica,
tion in Berlin, Germany.” Capablanca Diplomatic Syracuse, Cleveland, Memphis, Chicago and New
Compendium, p. 12. Orleans, but added new ones such as Kingston, New
18. The route of Capablanca to America in 1914 York; Nashville, Tennessee; and Lafayette, Louisiana.
has not been properly clarified. In My Chess Career His results were 384 wins, 2 defeats and 14 draws in
he wrote that he boarded the ship at Cherbourg, but 400 games, for a 97.75 percent rate of effectiveness.
according to the American Chess Bulletin, January– The American Chess Bulletin ( June 1915, p. 114) con-
February 1915, “[Capablanca] left [Europe] shortly sidered it a record: “Jose R. Capablanca, during his
before the outbreak of the war, leaving Paris on July recent tour, set a record for simultaneous play which,
23 and sailing from Lisbon on board the German so the authorities believe, is destined to stand for a
steamship Cap Villano [sic], three days later.” A long time to come.”
search of the port of departure of the German ship 4. The Capablanca family archives, courtesy of
Cap Vilano, in the section of global movements of Mercedes Capablanca de Medina.
vessels in the New York Times during the last 10 days 5. American Chess Bulletin, March 1915, p. 44.
of July of 1914, failed to unravel the mystery, because 6. Edward Lasker told the story about this travel
no mention of that ship appeared. To explain the to Cuba in his book Chess Secrets I Learned from the
course of Capablanca in 1914–1915, the Diario de la Masters (New York: David McKay, 1951), p. 340:
Marina of June 5, 1915, wrote: “Prior [to the United “Capablanca came on board ship the minute it had
States] he was in Russia, Portugal and Argentina.” thrown anchor at Havana, and it took only a word
Perhaps Capablanca took a boat from Cherbourg to on his part to take me across the line of customs in-
Lisbon and there changed to the German ship, al- spectors…. Knowing that I wanted to learn as much
though the natural thing to do would have been to of the Spanish language as possible in the few weeks
board it in the German city of Hamburg. Here is of my stay in Cuba, Capablanca selected a hotel for
what Corzo wrote in El Fígaro, July 1914 (exact day me where I had to speak Spanish to be understood….
unknown): “Hired by the Argentinian Club, among Everybody knew Capablanca. It was really remark-
whose partners he has countless admirers, the illus- able how his chess fame had endeared him to his peo-
trious champion of Cuba left Hamburg for Ar- ple.”
gentina days ago, after he resigned the post of Chan- 7. One of the anecdotes that Edward Lasker
cellor of the Cuban Consulate in Berlin for which may never have related in his books happened to him
he was recently appointed, although we don’t know in 1966, when his automobile fell from a height of
the main causes for such a [Capablanca] decision.” six meters into the empty shaft of a car elevator in
Manhattan. The vehicle was destroyed and he was a
month in the hospital after miraculously saving him-
Chapter 8 self. Source: Edward Lasker’s letter to Rosendo
Romero, October 27, 1966. Edward Lasker died on
1. According to Enrique G. Ruíz in the book March 25, 1981, at the age of 95, in New York City.
Historia del Ajedrez en Argentina, the Cuban played 8. Diario de la Marina, June 5, 1915, front p.
approximately 180 simultaneous games in this tour. 9. The resolution was written and signed on the
Hooper and Brandreth mentioned 149 games, of letterhead of the Department of Agriculture, Trade
which the Cuban won 137, lost 5 and 7 were drawn, and Labor, with the seal of that ministry. Capablanca
for a rate of 95 percent. However, they point out Diplomatic Compendium, p. 14.
that in two other simultaneous displays, September 10. Ibid., p. 15.
6 and 13, whose information appeared in the maga- 11. Ibid., p. 16.
zine of the Argentine Chess Club, the results were 12. These phrases, which originally appeared in
not mentioned. Therefore the difference from Ruíz’s Dolde’s report in the Pittsburgh Gazette-Times, were
compilation. reproduced in the American Chess Bulletin, MayJune,
2. The United States customs records confirm 1916, p. 99.
that the Argentinian naval ship Chaco arrived at 13. The totals of the tour were: 385 wins, 5 de-
Philadelphia on January 16, 1915, with four passen- feats and 10 draws in 400 games, according to Bran-
gers: “José Capablanca, Henry Haynes, Charles An- dreth and Hooper in The Unknown Capablanca, p.
dreola and Edward Uriarte.” In an article written for 187. But Olimpiu G. Urcan in his article “Capablanca
the Cuban magazine Bohemia ( June 10, 1917), Ca- in the City of Roses” (www.chesscafe.com) doubts
pablanca wrote he had spotted in the distance the the information about the simultaneous exhibition
English heavy cruiser Invincible, which he erro- against only five players on April 9. Data from the
neously called Indefatigable, which returned to En- chess column written for the Portland Oregonian by
gland after participating on December 8 in the sink- E.H. Bryant put the numbers at 80 exhibitions games
(39, 20 and 20, plus one against little Vivian John- of the match: Regino Truffin, with 100 pesos (about
ston, 4 years old) in that city. The last exhibition $1,500 in 2015); Aníbal Mesa, 100; José Miguel
(April 9) against 20 adversaries is not included in Tarafa, 100; Eusebio E. Aspiazu, 100; General Rafael
Hooper and Brandreth, the best and most complete Montalvo, 100. All of them were important figures
source of Capablanca’s record in simultaneous exhi- in the economic or political world of Cuba. For ex-
bitions. ample, Mesa was the founder of the airline Cubana
14. Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, p. 18. de Aviación. Other important contributors were the
15. Ibid., p. 19. After this communication, there Galician Centre and the Spanish Casino, with 200
is a lapse of more than five years in the dossier of Ca- pesos each ($2,800 in 2013), as well as the Union
pablanca published in Cuba. The next official com- Club with 150. American Chess Bulletin, May-June
munication that appears is dated April 25, 1922. 1919, p. 131.
16. In fact, Cuban popular tradition and histori- 23. Edward Lasker (in Chess Secrets I Learned
ography also treated those events as something from the Masters) characterized Kostić as an “enfant
ridiculous. What is remembered of them today terrible”; the Havana press, in general, treated the
has been reduced to a conga, which was the song of Serbian master with respect. Two days after the
the rebels and whose lyrics said: “The King of Spain match ended, on April 7, 1919, the newspaper El
sent a message, telling Menocal: Give me my horse Mundo wrote about him: “We commend the Master
back, ’cause you don’t know how to ride it.” Then Kostić, who, in spite of defeat, is not disheartened,
followed the chorus that ran between the verses: “Ae, for his perseverance in the noble game, and, besides
ae, ae la chambelona” (Ay, ay, ay the lollipop), by being recognized among the best players in the
which the rebellion was known: “The War of the world, is very much beloved by the Cubans. It is ad-
Chambelona.” The followers of the government also mitted that, in the short time he has been here, he
had their conga: “Cut down the cane, walk quickly, has captivated our sympathy.” Not a word about any
and look out, here comes Menocal cracking the kind of dispute with Capablanca. But Juan Corzo,
whip.” in the weekly magazine El Fígaro, criticized Kostić’s
17. Interview by Guillermo Pi (Bohemia, May 27, “numerous excuses and complaints.”
1917, p. 12). Capablanca stated: “I plan to embark 24. The American Chess Bulletin ( July-August,
soon, at the end of the current month or the begin- 1919) mentioned that Capablanca had sailed to En-
ning of the next. I’ll go to New York; I don’t have a gland after “having completed his negotiations with
specific schedule yet.” the British Federation.”
18. As Carlos A. Palacio said in his chronology 25. In Capablanca in the United Kingdom: 1911–
of the Cuban chess champions in Ajedrez en Cuba, 1920, the Czech historian Dr. Vlastimil Fiala in-
p. 188, María Teresa Mora (October 15, 1902–Oc- cluded four blitz games played by the Cuban. Here
tober 3, 1980) was, in 1922, the first woman who is presented one of them, originally published in the
won the island championship. In fact some historical Saturday Westminster Gazette and in the Newcastle
data suggest she was the first woman to win the na- Weekly Chronicle, on August 23, 1919.
tional championship of any country, without dis- 26. Daily Mirror, August 21, 1919. Quoted in Dr.
tinction of gender, something not duly accredited Vlastimil Fiala, Capablanca in the United Kingdom:
and recognized in the history of chess. 1911–1920, pp. 106–107.
19. Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 24, 1918, p. 2. 27. The results of the “English tour” appeared as
20. Sergei Prokofiev, Diaries: 1915–1923, p. 357. part of the European one in Hooper and Brandreth,
According to the Russian composer, Capablanca The Unknown Capablanca, pp. 188, 189, but are not
and she were no longer living together because itemized separately, as has been done in the present
the Cuban “is on the point of marrying someone work. In that book they were identified as part of
else.” Perhaps Miss Young was the mysterious woman the “Fourth European Tour,” which also included
whom the Brooklyn Daily Eagle identified in 1912 Paris, and the Spanish cities of Madrid, Bilbao,
as “Mrs. Capablanca.” Or maybe she was supplanted Sevilla and Barcelona, with an overall total of 1,515
by “someone else,” as Prokofiev mentioned. The wins, 41 losses and 89 draws in 1,645 games.
episode aboard the ship seems more a break than a
farewell.
21. Capablanca’s registration occurred in the mil- Chapter 9
itary recruitment office 124, located on Amsterdam
Avenue in New York City. His card has the number 1. American Chess Bulletin, November 1919, p.
31–9–124-O and is preserved in the microfilm roll 249.
1766147 of the U.S. Archives. There is additional 2. Ibid., February 1920, p. 28.
data that he registered also in the 1910 United States 3. British Chess Magazine, October 1922.
Census. 4. The totals of this tour were 245 games, win-
22. In addition to President García Menocal, ning 218, losing 10 and drawing 17. In Madrid his ex-
other people and institutions helped to pay the cost hibitions were on February 1, 3 and 11; in Bilbao,
February 4; in Sevilla, February 13 and 14; in $27,000 in 2015] for spending 15 days among us. To
Barcelona, February 20 and 26. Capablanca found bring Lasker the second time that he was in Cuba
the strongest resistance in his first simultaneous dis- cost $600 [about $8,000].”
play in Barcelona, on February 20, where in 27 10. In the same issue of the American Chess
games, he lost 3 and drew 2. Hooper and Brandreth, Bulletin, p. 141, Lasker said that according to his de-
p. 189. cision: “I shall no more be champion. Should I win
5. A precedent of Capablanca’s intention can be the title in the contest of Havana, it will be only to
found in Tarrasch’s 1896 book Dreihundert Schach- surrender it to the competition of young chess mas-
partien, where the German master included autobi- ters.”
ographical references. But, without a doubt, My 11. New York Times, February 2, 1921, p. 19.
Chess Career threw the doors wide open. After his 12. The Trotcha Hotel was especially famous for
example, chess masters were never again afraid of its vegetation, called “Gardens of Eden,” whose de-
using the first person in the titles of their books. scription was rendered by the Cuban poet Julián del
Nimzowitsch’s Mein System, 1925, and Die Praxis Casal.
meines Systems, 1929; Alekhine’s My Best Games of 13. American Chess Bulletin, May-June 1921, p.
Chess 1908–1923, 1927; Marshall’s My Fifty Games 101.
of Chess, 1942 (whose first chapter bore the title “My 14. The interview of the author with Dr. Albear,
Chess Career”); Fischer’s My 60 Memorable Games, “Un buen señor llamado Capablanca,” with Albear’s
1969; Karpov’s My Best Games, 1978; and Kasparov’s memories of the match in 1921, was published in the
My Great Predecessors, 2003, are clear examples of magazine Alma Mater, Havana University, February
the enormous impact caused in the collective psyche 1971. A collaborator on the present work, Jesús S.
of chess players by Capablanca’s title My Chess Ca- Suárez, who in 1971 was a member of the staff of
reer. the Cuban chess magazine Jaque Mate, also inter-
6. The review showed indeed a healthy dose of viewed Dr. Albear on the occasion of the 50th an-
criticism, as when for instance it cast doubt on one niversary of the match. Suárez’s resulting article was
of the author’s statements: “Next in line in consid- never published, but his notes have been incorpo-
eration is the great San Sebastián tournament of rated into the text of the present work.
1911, where, says Capablanca: ‘I was to surpass Pills- 15. José A. Gelabert captured the incident of the
bury’s feat at Hastings in 1895.’ This will probably clock in the first game of the Capablanca–Lasker
arouse much argument, pro and con, for Pillsbury match in his book Glorias del Tablero: Capablanca,
snatched the first prize in competition with Lasker, p. 87.
Steinitz, Tarrasch, Tschigorin [sic] and Schlechter, 16. One of the younger brothers of Capablanca,
among others, and upon such a feat no mere mortal the architect Fernando Aquiles Capablanca (1907–
could be expected to improve.” The book was also 1962), designed in 1950 the most important building
the subject of a more condensed note in the News of of the Jewish community in Cuba, the Patronato He-
Authors section of the New York Times (March 28, breo (Hebrew Board). The premises, which included
1920, p. x5), which stated: “[Capablanca] tells the an attached synagogue, the most important of the
story of how he developed his skill in the games of island, were completed in 1953.
the chess world.” 17. American Chess Bulletin, May-June 1921, p.
7. Quoted by Hugh Thomas, op. cit., p. 710. 101.
8. Although condemnation of Lasker was almost 18. The story of how her grandparents met was
unanimous for having conceded his title, supposedly described by Gloria Capablanca Medina to the au-
without being legally entitled to do so, if the reader thor in a letter dated in Havana, February 2011.
takes the time to peruse some other contracts of the 19. Diario de la Marina, April 24, 1921. Front p.
time he will observe a similar clause in, for example, 20. Márquez Sterling was a skillful diplomat with
the Capablanca-Kostić agreement for the Pan Amer- a great capacity for negotiation. It was he who, as
ican title, or the Lasker-Capablanca one in 1920, stip- Plenipotentiary Ambassador of Cuba, discussed
ulating that the title must go to the challenger if the with Benjamin Sumner Welles, Undersecretary of
champion did not defend it within the time agreed State in the administration of President Franklin D.
upon. A similar clause was included in the London Roosevelt, the treaty that put an end to the so -called
Rules, as well as the Capablanca-Alekhine contract Platt Amendment, which allowed the United States
for the 1927 match. to intervene in the internal affairs of the island. After
9. The prices for the child Rzeszewski’s displays signing the new agreements on May 29, 1934,
were higher than what was charged for Capablanca’s Márquez Sterling said: “I can die in peace now.”
or any chess player until then. When a Havana reader 21. In this book, we used the English translations
asked Juan Corzo in 1921 why somebody wouldn’t of the correspondence between Lasker and Judge
invite the prodigy to the Cuban capital, he replied Ponce which appeared in the American Chess Bul-
in the magazine El Fígaro on June 6, 1921: “Because letin, May-June 1921, p. 101.
the child has an adult throat. He asks $2,000 [about 22. American Chess Bulletin, May-June 1921, p.
Notes—Chapters 10 and 11 515
90. When Cassel made a summary of the champi- Chapter 11

onship, he published the hours and minutes used by
each opponent in the 14 games of the match. To 1. José Raúl Capablanca, Jr., was born in Havana,
some, it was surprising to know that in eight of those Cuba, on January 2, 1923. He obtained a law degree
encounters, Capablanca consumed more time than in his hometown, in 1945. During various periods
Lasker; and in two of the games, both players used before 1959, he voluntarily served as chess advisor of
the same. Lasker’s trip to Havana brought him a gross the Sports Institute of Cuba. For a month in 1965,
profit of 13,000 pesos (well over $170,000 in 2015), his name was as popular as his father’s, when he rep-
1,000 pesos ($13,000) more than his rival. resented Robert J. Fischer in Havana during the IV
Capablanca Memorial International Chess Tourna-
ment, when the American played at long distance
Chapter 10 from the Marshall Chess Club in New York. “Capita”
(Little Capa), as his friends called him, married Mer-
1. American Chess Bulletin, September-October cedes Medina on December 22, 1961. They had four
1921, p. 187. children: Mercedes Teresita, born on January 9,
2. Mestre Jordi, p. 23–24. 1964; Gloria María, on November 4, 1964; Raúl
3. Gloria Palacios Capablanca, in an e-mail to Miguel, on September 11, 1966; and Jorge Luis, on
the author, October 7, 2010. July 26, 1973. José Raúl Capablanca, Jr., died in Ha-
4. The Capablanca-Simoni wedding was recorded vana on January 31, 1984, at the age of 61, victim of
in the general book of marriages of the Parish a heart attack caused by high blood pressure, and an
Church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus of El Vedado acute asthma attack. His daughter Mercedes Teresita
and Carmelo, wedding book 5, folio 242, number and son Raúl Miguel reside in Miami, Florida. His
242, dated December 29, 1921. The occupation of widow Mercedes, and their other two children, Glo-
the groom was identified as “diplomat,” while that of ria María and Jorge Luis, live in Havana.
the bride as “housewife.” A copy of the marriage 2. Diario de la Marina, October 10, 1925, p. 17.
record was provided to the present author courtesy With respect to other family habits, Capablanca was
of Gloria Capablanca Medina. Despite the close sim- personally responsible for preparing the breakfast for
ilarities, the reader should not confuse her, the his children. He insisted that they would take a lot
daughter of Dr. José Raúl Capablanca Simoni and of milk and oats. Information provided to the author
Mercedes Medina Acosta, with her aunt Gloria Ca- by Mercedes Medina de Capablanca, widow of José
pablanca Simoni. Raúl Capablanca, Jr.
5. Hooper and Brandreth, p. 189. In that book 3. The huge land speculation in that area of Mar-
was added the simultaneous display in New York ianao was explained in detail by Rosalie Schwarz in
on December 16, 1920, as part of the small American her book Pleasure Island: Tourism and Temptation
tour in the winter of 1922, so the figures are dif- in Cuba (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press,
ferent: 318 games, with 296 wins, 20 draws and 2 1997).
losses. 4. In October 1945, when Capablanca’s proper-
6. London Times, July 19, 1922, p. 15. After Ca- ties were equally distributed among his widow Olga
pablanca, another world champion who advocated Chagodaef, and his children Gloria and José Raul,
amendments was Robert J. Fischer with his “Fisch- there were nine lots at his name in the Buena Vista
erandom,” later called “Full Chess” or “Chess960,” neighborhood, with a total value of $10,959 (about
which achieved a greater popularity than the changes $143,000 in 2015). There was also the division of an
proposed by the Cuban. estate sale amounting to $1,600 ($20,900) in Cam-
7. Edward Winter, A Chess Omnibus (Milford, agüey province, some 315 miles east of Havana. The
Connecticut: Russell Enterprises, 2003), p. 355. documents used as reference were provided to the
8. Published in the British magazine Chess, author by Mercedes Capablanca and her mother
March 14, 1939, p. 241. We have included the full Mercedes Medina.
text for the richness of Tartakower’s description of 5. In Diario de la Marina, July 29, 1923, p. 26, a
the game. fragment of the obituary reported: “Neither science
9. Quoted by Fred Reinfeld in The Immortal nor caring efforts nor the thorough love of an ador-
Games of Capablanca (New York: Dover, 1942), p. ing family were enough to conquer the illness, which
9. snatches from all of them a parent all goodness and
10. Related by David Hooper in the Capablanca all heart.” The obituary noted that at the time of his
entry of Anne Sunnucks’ Encyclopaedia of Chess death José María Capablanca was “Treasurer of the
(London: St. Martin’s Press, 1970), p. 64. Hospital [Queen] Mercedes.” The fall from the horse
11. The result of this mini-tournée of five exhi- was told to the author by Zenaida Capablanca, with-
bitions was 166 wins, 6 defeats and 18 draws in a total out other details except that “a tumor was formed.”
of 190 games. The word gangrene was taboo to Cuban families in
those years. The author knew the real causes of the
death from information provided by the interna- ated in its form and current name until 1937, it had
tional chess arbiter Alberto García, several times existed since 1908 with the name Bureau of Investi-
president of Havana’s Capablanca Chess Club. The gation. (See FBI document in Chapter 16.)
Hospital Reina Mercedes, where José María Capa- 17. New York Times, September 20, 1925, p. S5.
blanca died, was demolished at the end of the 1950s. 18. The murder of Vázquez Bello in 1933 and the
Later, a park was built there and then an enormous consequent plan to make an attempt on the life of
ice cream shop with the name of Coppelia, situated President Machado during his burial was the subject
diagonally with the Habana Libre Hotel (until 1960, of the 1949 film We Were Strangers. Its director and
Havana Hilton), where many famous international co-producer was John Huston, and it featured a cast
tournaments in memory of the Cuban chess cham- of famous actors such as Jennifer Jones, John Garfield,
pion were played for several years in a row starting Pedro Armendáriz, Gilbert Roland and Ramón No-
in 1962. The 27th World Chess Olympiad was held varro. In reality, the attack never happened because
in the same hotel, in 1966. the Vázquez Bello family decided to bury him in the
6. The London Rules were published for the city of Santa Clara, not in Havana. It is very possible
first time in the American Chess Bulletin, in its De- that Capablanca could have been one of the victims
cember 1923 issue, thanks to Alekhine, who supplied had he attended Vázquez Bello’s funeral if it had taken
them with his copy. Before that, the magazine pub- place in Havana, given his friendship with Regino
lished a brief commentary in its September-October Truffin who had died in 1926, because Truffin’s daugh-
1922 issue. In November 1926, the American Chess ter, Regina, was the wife of Vázquez Bello, a contrib-
Bulletin once again printed the full document. utor of Capablanca’s trip to Moscow in 1925. This
7. American Chess Bulletin, November 1923, p. burial was scheduled to take place in Truffin’s family
161. tomb, in the Cristóbal Colón Cemetery, where the
8. Ibid., p. 161. conspirators had placed 500 charges of dynamite,
9. Edward Lasker, “The New York Tournament thanks to the help of one of the gravediggers of the
of 1924, A Nostalgic Reminiscence,” Chess Life and cemetery, José Ramón “El Viejo” (“the old man”) Gar-
Review, March-April 1974. Also American Chess Bul- cía López, who narrated the details of the attempt
letin, February and March 1924. more than 37 years later to the Cuban magazine Bo-
10. Capablanca had negotiated with Lederer his hemia, February 1970. Other valuable information
fees and even the voyage of his family to New York, about this planned terrorist attack appeared in the José
including his son. “The boy is only a baby thirteen Guerra Alemán book Cuba Infinita, Volume 3, Verita
months old therefore he will not be expensive. Prac- Publishers, Hato Rey, Puerto Rico, 2007.
tically all he requires is a proper bed for a baby” 19. The author did not know about the fundrais-
(DeLucia, In Memoriam, 2011, pp. 168–169). But the ing at the Union Club until 2010, when Mercedes Ca-
Cuba ferry passenger records mention only one Ca- pablanca showed him the document. It includes the
pablanca, evidence that Gloria, who had recently un- names of 30 donors, under the heading “Relationship
dergone surgery, canceled her trip. of gentlemen partners who have contributed to the
11. Diario de la Marina, October 10, 1925, p. 17. trip of Mr. José Raúl Capablanca to the Moscow in-
12. American Chess Bulletin, April 1924, p. 83. ternational tournament.” In addition to the persons
13. The photo of the historic chess notation referred to previously, another former president of
sheet of the second game Capablanca–Emanuel Cuba appeared as a donor: Alfredo Zayas, with $60.
Lasker in the New York 1924 tournament was pub- 20. The New York Times (November 5, 1925, p.
lished in the book A Picture History of Chess (New 19) in its information of the Moscow’s 1925 added:
York: Fred Wilson, 1981), p. 81. “The liberal expenditure of money in the promotion
14. J. Hannak, Emanuel Lasker: The Life of a of the chess tourney at Moscow promises to make
Chess Master (New York: Dover, 1991), p. 162. that competition one of the most remunerative to
15. Mari Blanca Sabas Alomá, Revista de Avance, the masters in the history of the game. In addition
March 1942. to their expenses and prize money, many of the lead-
16. On several opportunities, questions have ap- ing players are receiving ‘gratifications’ sums, which,
peared in the chess media about whether Capablanca in the case of Capablanca, was reported a few days
(or Lasker) were objects of investigation by the FBI ago to amount $5,000. This is considered the highest
because of their visits to the Soviet Union. The au- compensation ever paid to a chess master for his
thor made two FOIA requests with the Bureau con- entry in an international tournament.”
cerning this matter. In both cases the responses were 21. A chronicle written a year later (August 20,
negative: Capablanca file (1156014-0000, November 1925, p. 5) by the correspondent in Moscow, Walter
10, 2010); Lasker file (1156026-000, November 17, Duranty, most likely influenced Capablanca’s deci-
2010): “Based on the information you provided, we sion to accept the invitation. Instead of terror or in-
conducted a search of the indices to our Central security, this one acknowledged some improvement:
Record System. We were unable to identify respon- “After a year’s absence, Moscow appears consider-
sive main file record.” Although the FBI was not cre- ably changed for the first time since the revolution.
A number of large buildings are being constructed. number of spectators approached 1,000. The fountain
More shops seem to be open than before, but there only made the situation worse, and the “climate” can
is an obvious shortage of goods and prices are exces- only be described as damp and tropical. Capablanca,
sively high. People have unquestionably a more who was used to the heat of Havana, told me he would
cheerful appearance and the general average of dress not object if the participants were allowed to wear
has improved.” This article was published as the ben- bathing costumes during play.” Grigori Levenfish: Se-
eficial effects of the so-called “New Economic Pol- lected Games and Reminiscences (Moscow 1967).
icy” (NEP) were beginning to be seen. In fact, most 28. Vasily Panov, “My Personal Recollections of
of those who paid high prices to attend the Moscow Capablanca,” URSS magazine, June 1960.
chess tournament were beneficiaries of these eco- 29. A. Ilyin-Zhenevsky, Notes of a Soviet Master
nomic reforms. Even Krylenko apparently used (Yorklyn, Delaware, 1986), p. 50.
funds generated from the NEP to hold the 1925 30. Andy Soltis in Botvinnik: The Life and Games
Moscow International Chess Tournament. of a World Champion ( Jefferson, North Carolina:
22. Before leaving for the United States, Capa- McFarland, 2014), pp. 21–22, considers that Yacob
blanca offered a simultaneous display on October 3 Rokhlin embellished the story, and quotes two ver-
at the Havana Chess Club against 25 participants, of sions by Botvinnik, the first one in Half of Century
whom María Teresa Mora and Dr. Rosendo Romero of Chess (Elmsford, New York: Pergamon Press, 1984)
managed to draw. On that occasion the Cuban press in which the Soviet Master wrote: “Capablanca over-
mentioned that one of the rivals was the “child turned his king … with a look of dissatisfaction in his
[Francisco J.] Planas, who had a performance worthy face.” The second one, reproduced in the text Ana-
of his already famous reputation.” Afterwards, Planas lytical (Olomouc, Czech Republic: Moravian Press,
was one of the most prominent players from Cuba 2001), Botvinik was more diplomatic, and did not
for many years. The relations between Planas and mention the “dissatisfaction in his face.”
Capablanca, which were cordial initially, deterio- Capablanca—M. Botvinnik [D51]
rated around 1938 when Planas felt that the Cuban Leningrad. Simultaneous game. November 20,
government helped only Capablanca. Hooper and 1925
Brandreth did not mention this simultaneous exhi- 1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3
bition in their book; its details appeared in the news- Bb4 6. c×d5 e×d5 7. Qb3 Nowadays 7. Bd3 is pre-
paper Diario de la Marina, October 5, 1925, p. 19. ferred. 7. … c5 8. d×c5 Qa5 9. B×f6 N×f6
23. Hooper and Brandreth grouped these exhibi- 10. 0–0–0 Very risky; better is 10. Nf3 or 10. Bd3.
tions as the “7th European Tour,” with a total of 221 10. … 0–0 11. Nf3 Be6 12. Nd4 Rac8 13. c6 B×c3
games, of which the Cuban won 138, drew 68 and lost 14. Q×c3 Q×a2 With a winning position. 15. Bd3
15. However, this computation did not include the fa- b×c6 16. Kc2 c5 17. N×e6 Qa4+ 18. b3 Qa2+
mous simultaneous display in the apartment of Nicolai 19. Qb2 Q×b2+ 20. K×b2 f×e6 21. f3 Rc7 22. Ra1
Krylenko in the Kremlin, played on November 27 c4 23. b×c4 d×c4 24. Bc2 Rb8+ 25. Kc1 Nd5
against 17 rivals, all of them ranking members of the 26. Re1 c3 27. Ra3 Nb4 28. Re2 Rd8 29. e4 Rc6
Soviet government. The November 29, 1925, edition 30. Re3 Rd2 31. Re×c3 R×c2+ 32. R×c2 R×c2+
of the New York Times pointed out: “The little Island White resigned. 0–1.
of Cuba scored a smashing victory over the immense 31. Hans Kmoch, “My Personal Recollections of
Soviet Union yesterday [the wire was dated Nov. 28] Capablanca,” Chess Review, December 1967, pp.
when José R. Capablanca met the united forces of the 362–363.
Bolshevik Commissars in a chess battle. In the apart- 32. Capablanca’s idea of changes in the basic game
ment of Attorney General Krylenko, who also is Pres- was undoubtedly one of the most extreme in the his-
ident of the Russian Chess Club, the world champion tory of the game. In one stroke of the pen are blotted
played seventeen games simultaneously with the com- out all studies, not just of the openings, but also of
missars and Under Secretaries, winning all.” the middle game and largely as well of the endings,
24. This story appeared in Zhivko Kaikamzozov’s since the games under the new rules rarely came so
book The Genius and the Misery of Chess (Boston: far. The new two pieces changed the whole dynamic
Moongose Press, 2008). of chess. At first, the Cuban proposed a 10 × 10
25. Andrew Soltis, Soviet Chess 1917–1991 ( Jef- board. But Edward Lasker, for whom in his book
ferson, North Carolina: McFarland, 2000), p. 25. Chess Secrets I Learned from the Masters (New York:
26. Isaak and Vladimir Linder, Emanuel Lasker: Dover, 1951), pp. 427–428 the change proposed by
Second World Chess Champion (Milford, Connecti- Capablanca “was not entirely arbitrary,” the new
cut: Russell Enterprises, 2010), p. 131. game is better played with a board 10 × 8. Appar-
27. “The Fountain Hall of the Hotel Metropol ently, after Edward Lasker played several games with
was chosen as the playing site. This hall is not directly a 10 × 10 board and others with a 10 × 8 version, he
connected to the outside atmosphere. The ventila- convinced the Cuban that the fight would begin im-
tion system had been designed for approximately 200 mediately with results faster and more forceful while
restaurant patrons, but during the tournament the maintaining a 10 × 8 board. The pieces Capablanca
suggested to add to each side of the king and the because of the onset of the First World War and later
queen were of a terrible force. On the side of the the Bolshevik Revolution. It should not be forgotten
king, between this piece and the bishop, he suggested than Truffin was the main contributor to Capablanca’s
one capable of moving as a bishop and as a knight, trip to Moscow, with $300. A letter dated December
the so called chancellor, with the ability to give check- 7, 1925, and addressed to Capablanca from the “Im-
mate by itself, without the king’s help. The other, next port-Export Control Department” of the Gostorg
to the queen, would be the marshal (Edward Lasker Agency of the Soviet Federated Republic of Russia,
identified it as the archbishop) with the combined signed by Vinnikov, deputy director of the cereal
powers of a rook and a knight. According to Edward warehouse, attests to those efforts of his. (Source: Ca-
Lasker: “The new pieces proved to be so powerful pablanca family archive, courtesy of Mercedes Medina
that violent attacks always occurred in an early stage. de Capablanca.)
Usually it took no more than twenty or thirty moves 35. Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, p. 20.
to finish the game.” In accordance with this criterion, 36. New York Times and Diario de la Marina, De-
these changes were as exciting and revolutionary as cember 25, 1925, front p.
those that affected the game in the Middle Ages. But 37. New York Times, February 10, 1924, p. XX8.
as Edward Winter observed (Capablanca: A Com- 38. Ibid., February 10, 1924, p. XX8.
pendium, p. 182 ) not everyone agreed. For example, 39. Per Skjoldager and Jørn Erik Nielsen, Aron
the British player William Winter, in Chess, Novem- Nimzowitsch: On the Road to Chess Mastery, 1886–
ber 1942, wrote: “The weakness of the Capablanca 1924 ( Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland, 2012),
deviation was that the large pieces dominated the pp. 267–269. According to their research, the Danish
board, and the smaller became a mere cannon fodder newspapers Vendsyssel Tidende, February 15, 1923,
unworthy of serious attention.” Other renowned and Jyllands-Posten, March, 4 1923, published the
masters such as Em. Lasker, Euwe, Rubinstein and harsh criticism by Nimzowitsch of the Bolsheviks.
Tarrasch also rejected the proposed changes.
33. “I remember an incident which I think decid-
edly humorous. When I had the privilege of collab- Chapter 12
orating with Capablanca on his fine book Chess Fun-
damentals, I used to call him every evening, when we 1. New York Times, December 27, 1926, p. 13;
would read through the portion of the book on Deutsche Schachblatter, No. 7, 1926, p. 152.
which he had worked that day. Sometimes we would 2. During the brief “Four Cities Tour,” Chicago,
discuss a position, but always without a board. Once May 6; Cleveland, May 22 and 23; Philadelphia, June
I raised an objection on a particular knotty point (I 5 and New York, June 26, Capablanca played 145
was wrong, of course) and he said he would fetch his games: won 131, drew 11 and lost 3.
board and men. At that time, Capablanca was at the 3. In November and December 1926 the world
height of his fame and success, almost a legendary chess champion made his second short tour of the year
figure. I was excited at the thought of seeing the chess in the United States. Capablanca played 290 games, of
set of such a man and had a vision of jeweled gold which he won 260, drew 24 and lost 6. At the begin-
and platinum. What he in fact brought in was a piece ning of 1927, between Havana and Santiago de las
of cheap American cloth, not intended for chess and Vegas, he played 54 games, of which he won 49, drew
all raggedly cut. With it went the oddest collection 4 and lost 1. These data appear in Hooper and Bran-
of chessmen it has ever been my lot to see: all shapes dreth, p. 190, in which is also included a simultaneous
and sizes, hardly two of them matched, except the display in New York, March 27, 1927 (+26 –0 =1) and
white rooks which were represented by two lumps of Philadelphia, March 26 1927 (+18 –0 =0).
sugar!” Du Mont, “Humor and Chess,” British Chess 4. Capablanca’s family departed Havana for
Magazine, April 1941, p. 133. New York on June 5 on the ship Orizaba. At this
34. In their book Capablanca, Isaak and Vladimir time there was a new addition to the excursion: little
Linder wrote that, during the Moscow tournament in Gloria de los Ángeles, who was barely over a year old.
1925, the Cuban master attended numerous meetings 5. Nimzowitsch’s family spelled his last name
at the Department of Commerce of the Soviet Union “Niemzowitsch,” but he did not like it. The story that
as a Cuban diplomat. It is true that he had those con- Nimzowitsch had to use his last name without the let-
tacts, and that he asked for export prices for several ter “e” for the rest of his life due to a 1920 error on his
Russian products, such as freight on board prices for passport was considered sheer nonsense by Skjoldager
wheat in Italy. But he did all that either in a personal and Nielsen in their aforementioned book Aron Nim-
capacity or as a middleman for some leading merchant zowitsch, although they made clear that such an error
from the island like Regino Truffin. Until a few years did happen in real life. Nimzowitsch is usually iden-
before, Truffin had been the main architect of Cuban- tified as “Russian-Latvian-Danish”—Russian, because
Russian commerce. He also served as consul of Czar his father was born in Belarus in 1860, although Nim-
Nicholas II in Havana, and was later appointed Cuban zowitsch himself was born December 7, 1886, in Riga,
ambassador to Russia, a position he never actually held where his family had moved that same year.
6. Archive of the Argentine Chess Club. tee, the necessary sum [$500]. And while a subscrip-
7. The author was able to review and copy all tion later covered his generous gesture, the impor-
documentation related to the 1927 match during his tance of the unconditional offer cannot be ignored
stay in Buenos Aires in 2011, thanks to the warm sup- considering the risk of a hypothetical fundraising.”
port of the Argentine Chess Club, particularly its 17. Argentine Chess Club, documents and letters
president, Dr. Claudio Goncalves, as well as Professor from the 1927 match. This letter was received in
Daniel Alpern, member of the board. Moreover, he Buenos Aires on July 7, 1927.
received copies of the limited edition book of the 18. “The peculiar position in which we found our-
1927 match, reprinted in 1994, courtesy of the chess selves with regards to the other three leading com-
writer and publishing entrepreneur Juan Morgado. petitors made us decide to exert ourselves to play for
8. Courtesy of the Argentine Chess Club. The draws unless our opponents threatened to win, since
final portion of this draft gives evidence that it was any defeat at our hand would put any of them out of
meant for translation into French or another lan- the running for a prize, without any benefit to our-
guage, to be then sent to Alekhine. selves. […] The same remarks about our game with
9. Archive of the Argentine Chess Club. Vidmar in a previous round apply to our game with
10. Courtesy of the Argentine Chess Club. Like Nimzowitsch [round 19] except that here we had a
the previous letter, it was a draft written in Spanish chance to win, of which we did not avail ourselves”
to be later translated into a language familiar to Nim- (New York Times, March 27, 1927). Alekhine never
zowitsch. It was later published in English in the Oc- recognized that in the last game of the tournament
tober 1926 issue of the American Chess Bulletin. Let- Capablanca (White) didn’t play to win against him.
ters and subsequent wires are from the same source. 19. In New York, Capablanca won 26 games and
11. New York Times, December 27, 1927, p. 13. conceded 1 draw. In Philadelphia, on March 26, he
12. American Chess Journal, Number 1, 1992: won 18 games in the same number of boards.
“New York 1927. Documentary Evidence Answers 20. The ship Governor Cobb, launched in 1907,
Lingering Questions,” pp. 89–104. was the first of its kind manufactured in the United
13. Ibid. States with steam turbines. For many years, it main-
14. Alekhine’s skittishness was the reason why tained regular service between Key West and Ha-
Spielmann wrote in the Sonntagsbeilage der Augs- vana. Its claim to history came about when, after
burger Postzeitung on June 25, 1927, that Capablanca being acquired by the U.S. Navy, it became the first
would win the match: “Capablanca certainly main- ship in the world to carry helicopters.
tains his iron nerve throughout the five hours of play. 21. New York Times, April 1, 1927.
For that reason alone I believe that in his forthcoming
match Alekhine has no serious chance.” Quoted by
Edward Winter in Chess Notes, no. 5338, based on in- Chapter 13
formation provided from Italy by Luca D’Ambrosio.
15. “On the other hand, both for Nimzowitsch 1. Including the weaker competition at Lake
as well as for me, not achieving one of the first two Hopatcong 1926, Capablanca’s results as a tourna-
places was virtually synonymous with abandonment ment player during his period as world champion
of a match with Capablanca.” Alekhine Alexander, were: 83 played games, winning 42, drawing 38 and
New York 1927 (Milford, Connecticut: Russell En- losing 3, for 73.49 percent.
terprises, 2011), p. 14. In March, Capablanca and 2. Capablanca’s assumption of his office took
Alekhine sent a joint telegram to the Argentine place on Saturday, November 15, 1927, in Buenos
Chess Club accepting the terms and announcing that Aires, according to official correspondence of Tirso
the match would begin September 1: “We agree to de Mesa y García Pola, Cuba’s ambassador in Ar-
begin match September first letter follows.” This gentina, to Rafael Martínez Ortiz, Cuba Secretary
telegram appears as Document No. 9 in the match of State: / “Buenos Aires, November 15, 1927. Mr.
files at the Argentine Chess Club. Secretary: I have the honor to acknowledge your
16. It is curious that the initial deposit of $500 cable with yesterday’s date that specifically states
in September 11, 1926, to ensure the challenge of ‘YOU MAY GIVE POSSESSION CAPABLANCA
Alekhine was made by Ricardo Illa, the only person “MARTORTIZ.”’ Complying with your instructions
of Cuban origin in the Argentine Chess Club. It was I asked Mr. José Raúl Capablanca to visit this lega-
Illa who reported to Capablanca all the ins and outs tion, to have him take the usual oath and give him
of the club and its difficulties to meet the match’s his post. / Sr. José Raúl Capablanca was in the Lega-
cost. When the rematch between Alekhine and Ca- tion today, and I proceeded to administer him the
pablanca was negotiated, La Nación of Buenos Aires formal oath, giving him then his office. / Once the
(February 8, 1934) published the following: “Let’s ceremony was finished I sent to you my cable no.
remember the preliminaries of the previous match. 44, which reads: ‘CAPABLANCA SWORN TODAY
There were necessary 50,000 pesos for their financ- FIFTEEN STOP GIVEN HIM POSSESSION’ /
ing. Mr. R. Illa contributed in a minute, as a guaran- Attached to the present note I send you the oath of
Mr. José Raúl Capablanca, signed before me. / I re- expenditure, including 291 pesos for drinks. This bill
iterate to you, Mr. Secretary, the assurances of my included four waiters and two assistants, flowers, dec-
highest consideration. MINISTER/” oration and four centerpieces with chocolates, 400
With the annex: pastries soirée, 400 assorted sandwiches, 200 small
“Oath of Mr. José Raúl Capablanca: I J OSÉ breads with foie gras and 200 straw potatoes and travi-
RAÚL CAPABLANCA, native of Havana, Cuba, atas; two cases of Veuve Clicquot champagne, sweet
named to the post of Head of Information and and dry, plus two cases of cognac and sweet liqueurs.
Propaganda of the Foreign Ser vice of the Republic 8. In Buenos Aires, July 2011, the Argentine sur-
of Cuba, do solemnly SWEAR that I will keep and de- geon Dr. Aaron Schwartzman, several times cham-
fend the Constitution and the laws of Cuba against pion of the Argentine Chess Club, gave the author
its enemies, foreign or domestic; I will profess true faith a clinical evaluation of Capablanca. According to
and allegiance to the same; that neither directly nor Schwartzman, possibly at the time of the interview
indirectly have I paid, offered or promised money or the only surviving witness of the 1927 match, the
objects of value, charge or jobs to get my position; that health of the Cuban champion in 1927 was already
I will faithfully fulfill the duties of the position I should declining, due to his intense life.
fulfill, and that I forced myself freely, without mental 9. Gelabert, Capablanca: Glorias del Tablero, op.
reservation or purpose of avoiding this oath. So help cit., p. 23. Gelabert’s prediction was fulfilled to the ex-
me God. In the city of Buenos Aires, Argentinean Re- tent that after the end of the 1927 match, Capablanca
public, on the fifteenth day of the month of November was so confused about his rival’s change of style that
in the year one thousand nine hundred and twenty- he declared: “Alekhine is a cold, measured, mathemat-
seven, before the Extraordinary Envoy and Minister ical calculator; he is no lover of the fantasy that beau-
Plenipotentiary of the Republic of Cuba in Argentina, tifies the game and redoubles its force of imagination.”
Mr. Tirso de Mesa y García Pola. José R. Capablanca.” 10. No relationship to the Mexican composer of
Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, pp. 24–25. the same name, who 13 years later, in 1940, wrote
3. New York Times, July 23, 1927, p. 13. “Says Cuba the famous song “Bésame mucho” (“Kiss Me a Lot”).
desires peace in politics / Capablanca, Chess Cham- 11. Antonio Álvarez Gil, Perdido en Buenos Aires
pion, on Business Trip, Tells of Plan to Lengthen Offi- (Murcia, Spain: 2009). Vargas Llosa novel award, 2009.
cers’ Terms / Six Years is Proposed.” 12. Capablanca—E. Bogoljubow [C12]
4. Letter from Capablanca to Alekhine, July 15, New York, April 17, 1924
1930. Quoted by Winter, Capablanca: A Compendium, 1. d4 e6 2. e4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Bb4 5. e×d5
p. 224. Q×d5 6. B×f6 g×f6 7. Qd2 Qa5 8. Nge2 Nd7
5. The Argentinian journalist Amilcar Celaya in- 9. Nc1 Nb6 10. Nb3 Qg5 11. a3 Q×d2+ 12. K×d2
terviewed Capablanca on both sides of the La Plata Be7 13. Bb5+ c6 14. Bd3 Bd7 15. Nc5 0–0–0
River; in Montevideo as well as Buenos Aires. Capa- 16. N×d7 R×d7 17. Ne2 c5 18. d×c5 B×c5 (see dia-
blanca acknowledged that he had gained almost 15 gram)
pounds (6.8 kilos) of weight but the “essential tennis cuuuuuuuuC
rackets” sleep in his cabin. When Celaya asked the {wDkDwDw4}
champion if chess was the only game that interested {0pDrDpDp}
him, Capablanca said: “People are wrong to believe {whwDp0wD}
that I pay much attention to the game. It interested {DwgwDwDw}
me very little.” When the Cuban realized the incor- {wDwDwDwD}
rectness of his response, he rectified and explained {)wDBDwDw}
that he put all his attention into a serious game. {w)PIN)P)}
Celaya’s interviews with Capablanca were published {$wDwDwDR}
in Crítica, August 31 and September 1, 1927. As con- vllllllllV
clusion, Celaya wrote ironically: “He is a witty and 19. Ke1 f5 20. Rg1 h5 21. g3 Nd5 22. Bb5 Rdd8
admirable man: He opines on everything but chess.” 23. Rd1 a6 24. Bc4 Nf6 25. R×d8+ R×d8 26. Nf4
6. See Appendix I: Capablanca on Four of His Ne4 27. Rg2 h4 28. Bd3 h×g3 29. h×g3 Rh8 30. g4
Predecessors. Rh1+ 31. Ke2 Rh4 32. B×e4 f×e4 33. f3 e3
7. The Club of 449 Pellegrini Street no longer 34. Nd3 Bd4 35. c3 Bb6 36. Ne5 Rh1 37. Nc4 Ba7
exists. In 2011, there was instead a fast-food restau- 38. N×e3 b5 39. g5 Kd7 40. Nf1 Kd6 41. a4 b×a4
rant in very poor condition. With respect to the total 42. Rg4 a3 43. b×a3 a5 44. Rf4 Bc5 45. Nd2 Ke7
cost of the 1927 match, some texts estimate that the 46. Ra4 Rg1 47. Ne4 Bb6 48. Rc4 Kd7 49. Nf6+
Argentina World Championship cost 40,000 pesos Kd8 50. Ng4 Rg2+ 51. Kd3 Rg3 52. Ke4 Rg1
in the national currency (about $233,000 in 2015), 53. Rc6 Bc7 54. Ra6 Kd7 55. Ra8 Ra1 56. Nf6+
but this figure may be low. Only for the opening ban- Kc6 57. Rf8 Re1+ 58. Kd3 Bf4 59. Ne4 Kb5
quet, a yellowish bill of the cafeteria called “Los dos 60. R×f7 e5 61. g6 Re3+ 62. Kc2 Re2+ 63. Kd1 R
chinos” (The Two Chinese) of Buenos Aires has a g2 64. g7 Kc4 65. Nf6 Black resigned. 1–0.
total balance of 725 pesos (about $4,200 in 2015) of 13. Paulino Alles Monasterio: Match por el Campe-
onato Mundial 1927 (Buenos Aires: Editorial Sopena, On the 35th move Capablanca gave up a piece for a
1978), p. 65. kingside attack. Six moves later the game was broken
14. Ibid., p. 65. off by Capablanca who insisted the position was a
15. His exact comments were: “A game played draw. His rivals disagreed even when Capablanca tried
today I may hazily keep in my head for a few weeks, to show them with some analysis the futility of the
but after that it is gone forever. No doubt my present effort. When he failed to convince them the Cuban,
poor memory is a cultivated one. I have been in- visibly upset, simply left the room. That very night
fluenced to adopt this system in order to avoid loss Pulcheiro and other players (not including Walter
of sleep at night after a hard struggle. Thus I can go Cruz or Souza Mendez) went to the O Globo newspa-
to sleep right after a game, whether I win or lose, and per and complained about the behavior of the Cuban.
one hour after a long, strenuous, simultaneous séance W. Cruz & J. Souza Mendez & G. Pulcheiro–
against any number of opponents I may be found Capablanca & L. Vianna [A30]
peacefully sleeping in my bed.” English Review, No- Rio de Janeiro, 21 January 1928
vember 1922, pp. 459–462. 1. d4 Nf6 2. Nf3 b6 3. g3 Bb7 4. Bg2 c5 5. 0–0
16. Refers to George Emlen Roosevelt, prominent c×d4 6. N×d4 B×g2 7. K×g2 g6 8. c4 Bg7 9. Nc3
member of the chess community of New York, who Qc8 10. b3 Nc6 11. Bb2 0–0 12. Nf3 d6 13. Qd2
was president of the Marshall Chess Club. He was Qf5 14. Rad1 Rac8 15. Rfe1 Ne4 16. N×e4 Q×e4
Theodore and Franklin Roosevelt’s distant cousin. 17. B×g7 K×g7 18. Qd3 Q×d3 19. e×d3 Rfd8
17. Alles Monasterio, op. cit., p. 86. The 1927 copies 20. Re2 e6 21.Rc1 Rd7 22.a3 h6 23. b4 Kf6
of the financial statements of the Jockey Club of 24. Rec2 g5 25. h3 h5 26. b5 Ne5 27. Ne1 Rdc7
Buenos Aires corroborate the 15,000 peso contribution 28. Kf1 h4 29. a4 g4 30. h×g4 h×g3 31. f3 Kg5
of the club to the match Capablanca–Alekhine. The 32. Kg2 Kf4 33. Re2 f5 34. g×f5 e×f5 35. d4 Rh7
documents were a courtesy of master Daniel Alpern. 36. d×e5 Rh2+ 37. Kf1 Rch8 38. Rg2 d×e5 39. c5
18. Capablanca—A. Alekhine [D63] b×c5 40. R×c5 e4 (see diagram)
World Championship, Buenos Aires (21). 26 cuuuuuuuuC
October 1927 {wDwDwDw4}
1. d4 d5 2. c4 e6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Nbd7 5. e3 {0wDwDwDw}
Be7 6. Nf3 0–0 7. Rc1 a6 8. a3 h6 9. Bh4 d×c4 {wDwDwDwD}
10. B×c4 b5 11. Be2 Bb7 12. 0–0 c5 13. d×c5 N×c5 {DP$wDpDw}
14. Nd4 Rc8 15. b4 Ncd7 16. Bg3 Nb6 17. Qb3 {PDwDpiwD}
Nfd5 18. Bf3 Rc4 19. Ne4 Qc8 20. R×c4 N×c4 {DwDwDP0w}
21. Rc1 Qa8 22. Nc3 Rc8 23. N×d5 B×d5 {wDwDwDR4}
24. B×d5 Q×d5 25. a4 Bf6 26. Nf3 Bb2 27. Re1 {DwDwHKDw}
Rd8 28. a×b5 a×b5 29. h3 e5 30. Rb1 e4 31. Nd4 vllllllllV
B×d4 32. Rd1 N×e3 White resigned. 0–1. The newspaper La Nación (Buenos Aires, January 23,
19. There is the possibility that the anonymous 1928) published a news wire about the game but did
journalist who went to Querencio’s house the eve- not mention the incident. Hooper and Brandreth (op.
ning in which the Cuban wrote his brief letter of cit., pp. 83–84) included the game with an analysis by
resignation, was the owner of Crítica, Natalio Botana. the British master Reginald Joseph Broadbent, who
It was Botana who personally engaged Capablanca arrived at the conclusion that the end would be drawn,
to write a daily column on the match. but modern research discovered a winning way for
20. Monasterio, op. cit., pp. 163–164. The text, orig- White: 41. f×e4 f×e4 42. Rc3! (stronger than 42. Rc7
inally written in French, although with some grammat- in Broadbent’s analysis) R8h3 43. R×h2 R×h2 44.
ical inaccuracies (probably because of Capablanca’s Ng2+ Ke5 45. Kg1 Rh6 46. R×g3 Kd4 47. Kf2 a6 48.
state of mind) and later fixed, said: “Dr. A. Alekhine. Ne3 Rb6 49. Rg5 a×b5 50. a×b5 Kd3 51. Rd5+ Kc3
/ Cher monsieur Alekhine: / J’abandonne la partie. 52. Ke2 Kb4 53. Nc2+ Ka4 54. Nd4 winning.
Vous ètes donc le champion du monde et je vous fe- 2. On his way back to New York, Capablanca of-
licité pour vôtre succes. / Mes compliments à Mme. fered four simultaneous exhibitions in Río de
Alekhine. / Sincerement a vous / J.R. Capablanca.” Janeiro, resulting in 79 wins, 8 defeats, and 12 draws
out of a total of 99 games. Once in the United
States, the Cuban master offered two exhibitions:
Chapter 14 one in Philadelphia on February 10, where of 15
games against 15 outstanding players he won 12 and
1. But the incident at Rio de Janeiro customs drew 3; and another one in Brooklyn the next day,
was not the only one for Capablanca during his stay where of 47 games he won 44 and drew 3. Hooper
in Brazil. The night of January 21 with the help of and Brandreth, p. 191.
Brazilian master Luis Vianna, the ex–world cham- 3. American Chess Bulletin, February 1928, p. 30.
pion faced the combined force of the Brazilian João 4. New York Times, February 9, 1928, p. 15.
de Souza Mendez, Walter Cruz and Gauby Pulcheiro. 5. “Les Cahiers de l’Echiquier Français,” pp. 406–
407, as quoted by Winter in Capablanca: A Com- cuuuuuuuuC

pendium, p. 322. {wDwDwDwD}
6. American Chess Bulletin published the rough {DwDwDwDp}
drafts of the new preliminary proposals to be dis- {w0wDw0wD}
cussed at the FIDE meeting in The Hague in July of {Dw0khPDw}
that year: a purse of 10,000 Swiss francs; a cap of 25 {PDwDwDwD}
games, with four wins instead of six; and celebrating {)wDKDwDw}
the tournament every three years. {wDwDwDw)}
7. Letter from Lederer to Alexander Alekhine {DwGwDwDw}
on March 21, 1928, explaining that Capablanca’s rec- vllllllllV
ommendations to Rueb referred to future world In this position the game was adjourned—in a
tournaments, not to their own return match. Russell winning position for Black—and never resumed, ei-
Collection, Item 1396, quoted by Winter in Capa- ther because Tarrasch, who was then 66 years old,
blanca: A Compendium, pp. 322 and 323. withdrew from the tournament with a gallbladder
8. Winter, Capablanca: A Compendium, p. 211. infection; or because he resigned the game and then
9. The conversion amounts from German marks withdrew from the tournament.
to U.S. dollars that appear in the text were taken from 17. From August 4 to November 22, Capablanca
the website “Historical Dollars to Marks Conver- gave eight simultaneous displays in Berlin, Essen and
sion,” by Professor Harold Marcuse from the Univer- Munich, Germany; Stockholm and Göteborg, Swe-
sity of Santa Barbara, California: http://www. den; London (twice) and Manchester, England; with
history.ucsb.edu/f aculty/marcuse/projects/curr totals of 220 victories, 14 defeats and 39 draws in
ency.htm. For the conversions of U.S. dollars histor- 273 games, according to Hooper and Brandreth, The
ically to current values this website was used: Unknown Capablanca, p. 191.
http://www.usinflationcalculator.com/ but the re- 18. New York Times, January 31, 1929, p. 19.
sults were rounded. 19. Diario de la Marina, December 25, 1928, p.
10. On June 19, 1928, Capablanca had to pledge 26.
once again his allegiance to the Cuban Constitution, 20. Andy Soltis, Foreword to New York 1927, by
because President Machado had amended it, as evi- Alexander Alekhine.
denced in Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, p. 26. 21. Dated on March 27, 1929, the Cuban ambas-
11. David DeLucia, In Memoriam, Volume 2, p. sador in England wrote to Rafael Ortiz, Cuban sec-
202. retary of state: “Mr. Secretary: I have the honor to
12. American Chess Bulletin, December 1928, pp. acknowledge receipt of your attentive dispatch num-
174–175. ber 633 dated last February 27 by which is commu-
13. Ibid. nicated to us that the Head of the Service of Infor-
14. The Russell Collection, item 1524. Quoted mation and Propaganda of Cuba Abroad, Mr. José
by Winter in Capablanca: A Compendium, p. 214. A Raúl Capablanca y Graupera, who is leading to this
copy of the original manuscript was published by capital where he will stablish his residence, be ac-
David DeLucia in his luxury book In Memoriam, vol. credited to the Government of Great Britain as at-
2, p. 205. taché to this Legation. / In fulfillment of your in-
15. Hans Kmoch, Chess Review, December 1967, structions, I will be delighted to take the necessary
p. 362. steps at the Foreign Office [of the United Kingdom]
16. Tarrasch died five years later, on February 17, so that Mr. Capablanca y Graupera is recognized in
1934. The following is the last game of Tarrasch this manner. I reiterate to you the assurances of my
against the Cuban: most distinguished consideration. (Signature) Min-
Tarrasch—Capablanca. [C62] Berlin, 10 No- ister.” Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, p. 27.
vember 1928. 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 22. The results of the exhibitions offered by Ca-
d6 5. d4 Bd7 6. d×e5 N×e5 7. B×d7+ N×d7 8. O- pablanca in London from April 8 to 28 were 156 vic-
O Be7 9. Nc3 Ngf6 10. Nd4 O-O 11. Nf5 g6 tories, 12 draws and 4 defeats in 172 games, according
12. N×e7+ Q×e7 13. Bh6 Rfe8 14. Re1 Qe5 to Hooper and Brandreth, p. 191.
15. Qd2 Nc5 16. f3 Ne6 17. Be3 Rad8 18. Nd5 Nd7 23. According to the press release that reported
19. c3 c6 20. Nf4 Ndf8 21. Rad1 Qa5 22. a3 d5 the game, Grant Hayward created this type of chess
23. e×d5 N×f4 24. B×f4 R×e1 25. Q×e1 R×d5 variant in 1916.
26. R×d5 Q×d5 27. Qe5 Q×e5 28. B×e5 Nd7 24. Quoted by Winter in Chess Notes, no. 4712,
29. Bd6 f6 30. Kf2 Kf7 31. c4 Ke6 32. Bf4 g5 with the cooperation of Christian Sánchez, Rosario,
33. Be3 Ne5 34. b3 g4 35. Ke2 g×f3+ 36. g×f3 Kf5 Argentina.
37. Bd4 Nd7 38. Kf2 c5 39. Be3 Ne5 40. Ke2 b6 25. There is no doubt that Capablanca’s family
41. Bd2 a5 42. Bc1 a4 43. b×a4 N×c4 44. Kd3 Ne5 was present in Carlsbad, which was corroborated by
45. Ke2 Ke6 46. f4 Nc4 47. Kd3 Kd5 48. f5 Ne5+ comments of Dr. José R. Capablanca, Jr., both to the
(see diagram) author, and to the Serbian journalist Dmitri Bjelica
in statements that appeared in his book Capablanca Friendly (Socialist) Armies” was played with the par-
(Madrid: Zugarto Ediciones, 1993). ticipation of military or civilian players linked in
26. Alekhine wrote six articles on Carlsbad 1929 some way to the armed forces of the then socialist
for the New York Times. The first was published on camp; it was won by the Czech grandmaster Vlas-
August 1 and the last on August 31. timil Hort. Far from being an obstacle, the heat was
27. “Annuls Funds for Capablanca / Special Cor- appreciated by the visitors, who could make use of
respondence of the New York Times / HAVANA. the hotel pool in idyllic conditions. But in the decade
Sept. 2. A credit of $5,000 recently voted by the Ha- of the 1930s the National Hotel of Cuba did not yet
vana City Council to pay the expenses of J.R. Capa- have air conditioning.
blanca, former world’s champion chess master, has 36. The following year, on November 9, Alekhine
been annulled by virtue of a decree signed at the surpassed Capablanca’s performance at the same
Presidential Palace by General Machado.” New York place and against the same number of players, win-
Times, September 9, 1929, p. N3. ning 30 boards, losing 6 and drawing 14, in a
28. “José Raúl Capablanca, un campeón autén- marathon that lasted more than 12 hours—from
tico” (“José Raúl Capablanca, a True Champion”), Tuesday November 8 at 3:30 p.m. through Wednes-
Revista Social, Havana, February 15, 1931, pp. 38, 39 day at 4:05 a.m. Capablanca’s supporters could at
and 41. least say that it had taken the Cuban master four
29. Le Echequier, July 1930, pp. 859–860, quoted fewer hours to accomplish the feat.
by Winter, Capablanca: A Compendium, p. 216. 37. As a “First Class Chancellor,” Capablanca’s
30. Ibid., pp. 218–219. Alekhine’s letter said: yearly emolument was 2,400 pesos (nearly $38,000
“Paris, 28 November 1929. / Mr. J.R. Capablanca, in 2015), which is what he was making at the time
Cuban Legation, 2 rue Goethe, Paris, France. / Dear of his demise in March of 1942, according to in-
Sir, I hereby confirm that in Wiesbaden on 14 No- quiries made by historian Rafael Acosta in the
vember last I received your challenge for a world archives of the Cuban Ministry of Foreign Affairs,
championship match to be played according to the which he made available to the author. When he had
London Rules of 1922. / I accept your challenge in been stationed in St. Petersburg in 1913, his salary
principle and set—in accordance with paragraphs 7 had been around 1,200 pesos. Three official notes
and 10 of the London Rules, 1922—the start of the from the archives of this ministry, as well as a letter
match for the last months of 1930, i.e. between 15 by Capablanca, appear in chronological order in Ca-
October and 15 December of 1930. / As regards the pablanca Diplomatic Compendium, pp. 28, 29, 30,
designation of the Referee and stakeholder, this for- and 32.
mality should be carried out after I have been advised 38. Decree No. 486 / In exercise of the powers
in which country and place the match is supposed to invested in me by the Constitution and the Law, and
be held, and the names of those persons or groups by proposal of the Secretary of State, I hereby RE-
who will be responsible for its organization. / Yours SOLVE: / To annul the post of Head of Information
faithfully, A. Alekhine.” and Propaganda of Cuba Abroad and declare on
31. Archives of the Manhattan Chess Club, leave Mr. José Raúl Capablanca y Graupera, who held
quoted by Winter in Capablanca: A Compendium, said post from the 20th of September of 1927 until
p. 219. the 1st of July of 1930, when he ended his respon-
32. Capablanca to Lederer, July 6, 1929. David sibilities because of budgetary adjustments, recog-
DeLucia: In Memoriam, vol. 2, p. 211. nizing his right to be reinstated in the service in a
33. On March 6, 1942, the day of Capablanca’s post similar to the one he held before the aforemen-
last visit to Dr. A. Schwartzer, when the Cuban con- tioned period. / Given in Havana, Presidential
fessed his totally pessimistic state of mind, the Dow Palace, on the Fourteenth of March of 1931. /Ger-
Jones industrial average closed at 108 points, still 273 ardo Machado / President. / (Enacted in the Official
points below its peak of 381.7 on September 3, 1929. Gazette of Cuba, April 13, 1931.) Capablanca Diplo-
34. The original version of clause number 13 said: matic Compendium, p. 31.
“If the champion fails to play the match on account
of serious illness, he forfeits his title to the chal-
lenger, but his deposit money will be returned to Chapter 15
him….” As Shipley suggested, it was changed to: “If
the champion should be seriously ill at the time set 1. Hugh Thomas, op. cit., p. 795
for the beginning of the match he shall have the right 2. A letter from Alekhine to MacMahon sent
to postpone the commencement for a period of not from Paris May 19, 1932, and published by Chess Life
over 40 days, provided such postponement shall be & Review in February of 1976, included the follow-
accepted by the challenger and the subscriber of the ing demand: “Does Capablanca participate in the
purse.” tournament, and does your Committee agree to pay
35. At the Hotel Nacional in Havana in the sum- me in that case 2,000 dollars extra fee?” The closing
mer of 1967 the so-called “Tournament of the of the letter said: “As the time is now so short, I trust
that you will realize the importance to me of an an- pleased to have it, and would have written sooner,
swer without delay, as otherwise I cannot make my but he has only just given me your address. /Let us
arrangement of the voyages and book my passage by know when to expect you. It will be so nice to see
the Aquitania.” you again. With kindest regards, I am / Yours most
3. In this particular case, Spielmann’s accusation sincerely /Edward Irwin” (courtesy of Mercedes Ca-
was denied by the organizers of the international pablanca Medina).
tourney held in Bern, Switzerland, who explained his 13. Panama Star, March 15, 1933, p. 8.
absence (as well as Nimzowitsch’s) as a matter both 14. In Hooper and Brandreth’s book, the figures
of budget and of balancing local and foreign players. are slightly lower, with a total of 112 games. It also
Hermann Helms wrote an article based on these ar- says that the March 13 and 17 exhibitions were held
guments exonerating Alekhine, which was published in Balboa. Actually, they took place in Panama City,
in the New York Sun on July 8, 1932. and the last simultaneous exhibition in the
4. ABC, Madrid, May 12, 1932. Caribbean city of Colón was held on March 21, not
5. The Russell Collection, Item 1458, quoted by the 23rd. On the same day, six years later, in 1939,
Edward Winter in Capablanca: A Compendium, p. another first-rate figure visited the Isthmus: Alexan-
233. der Alekhine, who had just visited Havana and
6. The first of those lectures, at the Communi- Venezuela en route to Argentina, in a long itinerary
cations Club, was later published in the literary sup- that took him to several countries of Central and
plement Lunes de Revolución, December 12, 1960. It South America together with his new wife Grace
was subsequently translated to English and included Wishaar-Alekhine since he had divorced (or sepa-
by Edward Winter in Capablanca: A Compendium, rated from) Nadezhda Fabritzky more than seven
pp. 247–251. years before. Capablanca in a letter to Lederer (Oc-
7. Antonio Alfonso Benítez’s story was well tober 30, 1929) wrote, “The matter of his divorce
known by the children of José Raúl, Jr. In a letter to must be very recent. In Karlsbad they were on excel-
the author from Havana, February 2011, Gloria Ca- lent terms” (DeLucia, op. cit., pp. 220–221).
pablanca Medina wrote: “Antonio [Alfonso Benítez] 15. The referenced game is the following:
says that my grandfather was very kind to him, and Capablanca—H. Steiner [C49]
that when he had time he would play baseball with Exhibition Game with Living Pieces. Los An-
my dad and his friends, or he would cook for them; geles, 11 April 1933.
and he says that, except when people reminded him 1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bb5 Bb4
of his fame or spoke about chess, he was the most 5. 0–0 0–0 6. d3 d6 7. Bg5 B×c3 8. b×c3 Ne7
charming person in the world.” 9. Nh4 c6 10. Bc4 Be6 11. B×f6 g×f6 12. B×e6
8. In 1966, when Fischer visited Havana to par- f×e6 13. Qg4+ Kf7 14. f4 Rg8 15. Qh5+ Kg7
ticipate in the Chess Olympics, Florido asked him, 16. f×e5 d×e5 (see diagram)
“Do you remember me?” Not only did Fischer rec- cuuuuuuuuC
ognize him, but he even told him the opening they {rDw1wDrD}
had played, a Giuoco Piano. (As told by Jesús S. {0pDwhwip}
Suárez, a witness to their reencounter.) {wDpDp0wD}
9. The Capablanca family showed the author {DwDw0wDQ}
letters from Peláez to Capablanca written in a con- {wDwDPDwH}
spiratorial tone against the government of President {Dw)PDwDw}
Zayas. {PDPDwDP)}
10. Zenaida Capablanca said that the police were {$wDwDRIw}
actually looking for her brother Ramiro, but he had vllllllllV
been able to escape Cuba three months before, as it 17. R×f6! K×f6 18. Rf1+ Nf5 19. N×f5 e×f5
has already been pointed out. Perhaps Machado’s po- 20. R×f5+ Ke7 21. Qf7+ Kd6 22. Rf6+ Kc5
lice had a suspicion that Ramiro had clandestinely 23. Q×b7! Qb6 24. R×c6+ Q×c6 25. Qb4 mate.
returned to the island, as he probably did. 1–0.
11. Testimony in Panama City, July 2011, by the 16. Hooper and Brandreth, The Unknown Capa-
Panamanian master Blas Barría. blanca, p. 192.
12. “Commandant’s House—15th Naval District, 17. Carlos Fruvas Garnica, Todas las Mañanas del
Balboa—Canal Zone / December 28—/Dear Sr Ca- Mundo: Memorias de un Viaje con José Raúl Capa-
pablanca—/ The Cuban Minister tells us that you blanca por México (All the Mornings of the World:
are contemplating a visit to Panama at last, and I am Memoir of a Trip Through Mexico with José Raúl
writing to invite you to stay with us while you are Capablanca). Fruvas double-checked the details of
here. / We have plenty of room and I would be de- the tour with the help of the Mexican International
lighted to put you up. / Also I want to send you a be- Master Raúl Ocampo, based on information pub-
lated thanks for the photograph you sent by Raul lished in the Revista Mexicana de Ajedrez of 1933, p.
[Masvidal, Cuban Minister in Panama] and I was so 173. In his article he states that, besides these
recorded outcomes, Capablanca also played in the McFarland, 2010), pp. 88–89, that Alekhine “attends
cities of Hermosillo, Nogales, and Veracruz—al- many ceremonies with the air of granting a favor, the
though in the latter he only played some individual favor of his presence, and refuses invitations, giving
games against military officers. Fruvas mentioned no explanation.” Morán also wrote: “From what we
that, upon request of the Mexican ambassador in have read” some of the exhibitions were “turbulent”
Cuba, he traveled from Havana to Tampico, Mexico, due to Alekhine’s “impositions, sore losing, and in-
in order to furnish diplomatic protection to Ramiro consideration of all opponents. Alekhine imposed
Capablanca and Carlos Peláez, who had both taken his law: the law of the strongest. … He applied his
refuge in the Mexican embassy in Cuba. See: http:// rule impolitely and forcefully, and counted wins by
www.inforchess.com/columnis/ocampo00.htm. the law of the world champion, without consulting
18. Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, pp. any one.” Morán mentioned specifically one game,
32–33. In the passenger roster of the ship Borinquen against V. Sassot in which Sassot, who had recently
that took Capablanca back to New York from San undergone an appendectomy, had to step out a mo-
Juan, Puerto Rico, on October 15, 1934, Capablanca ment. When Alekhine reached Sassot’s board and
is identified as “Comm [Commercial] Attaché.” did not find his absent rival, he declared a win for
19. “CUBA—SECRETARIAT OF STATE / DE- himself and did not listen to any reasons. According
CREE NO. 1786 / By the Powers vested in me, and to Morán, at the time Alekhine had a lost position.
in the name of the Republic, /I RESOLVE / To name 25. Eugenio Castillo was an official of the Cuban
Mr. José Raúl Capablanca y Graupera, Commercial Embassy in Washington who had a close relationship
Attaché to the Cuban Legation in Paris, with juris- with Capablanca, serving as best man in his wedding
diction extended to the rest of the European coun- with Olga in 1938. At the University of Miami’s
tries (with the exception of Spain and Great Britain), Cuban Heritage Center are preserved several letters
to Africa and the Far East. / Given in Havana, Pres- that Capablanca wrote to him.
idential Palace, on the Tenth of July of 1934. / Car- 26. New York Times, December 10 to 15, 1934.
los Mendieta. President. / Cosme de la Torriente. The death and funeral of Márquez Sterling were also
Secretary of State.” Capablanca Diplomatic Com- widely covered by all the Cuban newspapers. He
pendium, p. 31. played the following game against Capablanca in the
20. In an interview for the newspaper El Mundo “Cuba Championship” of 1902.
of San Juan, Puerto Rico, published October 9, 1934, M. Márquez Sterling—Capablanca [A83]
Capablanca expressed his views on the subject of the Havana, March 22, 1902
“gold dollars.” In respect to the obstacles placed in 1. d4 f5 2. e4 f×e4 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 c6 5. B×f6
his way by Alekhine he said that the Russian-French e×f6 6. N×e4 d5 7. Ng3 Bd6 8. Bd3 Be6 9. Nf5
master allegedly said “I, and my supporters, wanted B×f5 10. B×f5 0–0 11. Ne2 Qc7 12. h3 Re8 13. 0–0
to impose other [clauses] not in the London Rules. Nd7 14. Kh1 Re7 15. Ng1 Rae8 16. B×d7 Q×d7
And when it was shown to him that we were ready 17. Qd2 Kf7 18. Rae1 Qf5 19. R×e7+ R×e7
to accept them [the London Rules], and he found it 20. Nf3 g5 21. c3 h5 22. Re1 R×e1+ 23. N×e1 g4
impossible to continue being evasive, he then said 24. h×g4 h×g4 25. g3 Kg6 26. Qe2 Kf7 27. Kg2
that the purse had to be deposited in gold, which, as Qe6 28. Q×e6+ K×e6 29. Nd3 Kf5 30. f3 g×f3+
you can understand, raises the amount by itself by 31. K×f3 Kg5 32. Nf2 f5 33. Nh3+ Kg6 34. Nf4+
around 40 percent.” B×f4 35. g×f4 Kh5 36. Kg3 Draw by mutual con-
21. New York Times, July 29, 1932, p. S9. sent. ½–½.
22. According to Dr. Angel de Albear, who, in 27. Frank Brady, Endgame (New York: Crown,
January 3, 1939, went again to the Havana docks with 2011), p. 251.
other board members of the Cuban Chess Federa- 28. Botvinnik mentioned his encounter with Ca-
tion to welcome Alekhine, who was on his way to pablanca in Hastings 1934–1935 in his diverse mem-
several countries of South America. oirs more or less in a very similar way. In the book
23. Olga Chagodaef ’s citizenship request files International Championship Chess by B. [Božidar]
show that she then lived at 201 East 120th Street, M. Kažić (London: Batsford, 1974), p. 246, in the
New York. If they met at a party at the Cuban con- chapter “Botvinnik on His Meeting with World
sulate, it may very well have been the celebration of Champions,” came this close version: “We met nine
the signing of the Treaty of Relations on May 29, years later [after the simultaneous exhibition, in Len-
1934, which effectively annulled the Platt Amend- ingrad 1925] at the tournament in Hastings. Capa
ment. (See later reference upon the occasion of had returned to the chess board, although he had not
Manuel Márquez Sterling’s demise on December 9, reached the peak of his form. He looked thinner
1934.) than in 1925. This was due not only to the passing
24. About Capablanca’s cryptic word to Colle of the years, but also to the difficult times he had
Vidal on Alekhine and the chess fans in Barcelona, gone through after his defeat in the match with
Spain, in 1928, Pablo Morán mentions in his book Alekhine.”
Agony of a Chess Genius ( Jefferson, North Carolina: 29. Details of Capablanca’s private economic
arrangements with the Moscow 1935 tournament or- fourth of the current month, being accredited since
ganizers appeared in his letter to Eremeyev from that day Mr. José Raúl Capablanca as Commercial
Margate, dated April 13, 1936, and quoted by Isaac Attaché in Belgium. / I reiterate to you, Mr. Secre-
and Vladimir Linder in José Raúl Capablanca: Third tary, the assurances of my highest consideration. /
World Chess Champion, p. 204. (Illegible signature) Chargé d’Affaires ad interim.”
30. “Legation of Cuba in France / Paris January Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, p. 38.
21, 1935./ No. 56/ ISSUE: Concerning the Commer- 37. In Hooper and Brandreth, op. cit., p. 193, the
cial Attaché Mr. Capablanca./ Mr. Secretary [Dr. results in Spain were given as part of what they called
Cosme de la Torriente] / I have the honor to inform the “4th European Tour,” what included England,
you that today Mr. José Raúl Capablanca y Graupera, France, The Netherlands, Germany, Czechoslovakia,
Commercial Attaché to the Legation, with jurisdic- Poland and the Soviet Union, with aggregate figures
tion in other countries of Europe, with the exception of 628 wins, 59 losses, and 76 draws in 763 games,
of Britain and Spain, has joined this legation. for an overall average of 87.28 percent.
Fulfilling the wishes of Mr. Capablanca we have di-
rected a note to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs
today seeking his recognition as Commercial At- Chapter 16
taché of Cuba in France. Signature (illegible) Min-
ister of Cuba in France.” Capablanca Diplomatic 1. “…a master who, not being able to win
Compendium, p. 37. through his own ability, tries to gain a point by
31. G. Ståhlberg and P. Alles Monasterio, op. cit., exhausting a less physically trained opponent,
pp. 204–205. fully deserves to lose.” (Boldface by Alekhine in the
32. Isaac and Vladimir Linder, Capablanca, p. Nottingham’s tournament book.) The criticism by
202. Alekhine of Flohr is even better understood when
33. New York Times, February 19, 1927, p. 10. you learn that Tylor was a man with very poor sight.
34. Capablanca’s works were: 1. Cartilla de Aje- Subsequently he was knighted by the British Crown
drez (Chess Rudiments, Havana 1913); 2. Torneo In- for his work for the blind. Alekhine was outraged
ternacional de Ajedrez, La Habana 1913 (Interna- because Flohr, as stated, forced an incapacitated man
tional Chess Tournament, Havana 1913); 3. My Chess like Tylor to play for eight hours and 107 moves in
Career, 1920; 4. The World’s Championship Match at Margate in 1936.
Havana, 1921; 5. Chess Fundamentals, 1921; 6. A 2. The story has been narrated in a similar but
Primer of Chess, 1935. Last Lectures, his radio lessons slightly different form in various parts, for example,
of 1941 and 1942, were later published as a book, by Alexander Sizonenko, in Capablanca: Vstriechi s
first in Italian, then in English, Spanish and other Rossiei (Capablanca: Meetings in Russia, Moscow:
languages. Znanie, 1988), p. 103. The present author met Rokhlin
35. Capablanca signed a contract for 3,500 pese- personally in the Hotel Belgrade II in Moscow in
tas (about $8,250 in 2015) with the editor Carlos June 1980, thanks to Sizonenko himself. There he
Seither in Barcelona, Spain, on October 1, 1935, for heard several anecdotes about Capablanca in his vis-
the translation and publishing in both Catalonian its to the Soviet Union, including the one of the
and Spanish of A Primer of Chess—this never hap- game against Lasker.
pened. The book was printed for the first time in 3. The end of Moscow 1936 was enigmatic and
Spanish in 1985, in Cuba, with the title ¿Cómo jugar mysterious, and maybe validated Olga’s reminiscence
ajedrez? (How Does One Play Chess?). about the supposed conversations between Capa-
36. “Cuba’s Legation / Brussels, June 8, 1935. / blanca and Stalin, when the Cuban complained to
Mr. Secretary, / I have the honor to inform you that the dictator about a conspiracy against him on the
this legation received a note from Mr. José Raúl Ca- part of the Soviets players. According to Genna
pablanca on May 8, saying the following : “Mr. Sosonko in his book Russian Silhouettes (3d ed., Alk-
Chargé d’Affaires: / In compliance with my Cuban’s maar, Netherlands: New in Chess, 2009), pp. 37–38,
Commercial Attaché functions in several European Botvinnik told him the following: “I was then [Mos-
countries, including Belgium, a charge for which I cow 1936, before the last round] half a point behind
was appointed by presidential decree, I intend to per- Capablanca. I had Black against Levenfish, whereas
form certain activities in that country and, to such Capa had White against Eliskases. Levenfish spread
purposes, I will settle temporarily in Brussels within the rumor that he was being forced to lose to me,
a short time. I ask, therefore, that you officially reg- and he informed Capablanca of this.” As a result, said
ister me with the Belgian Government, in the posi- Botvinnik, the composer Sergei Prokofiev, who also
tion of Commercial Attaché. I reiterate to you the heard about the rumors, severed all relations with
assurances of my distinguished consideration. him. Botvinnik explained to Sosonko that a few
(signed) J. R Capablanca.” / For this purpose, the months later Prokofiev restored his relations with
same day, a letter was sent to the Cuban Ministry of him when he understood that Levenfish’s accusations
Foreign Affairs: “Having received a reply on the were false. But this kind of rumor, false or not, arose
frequently during Botvinnik’s life, and clouded his 9. In their monograph on the Cuban, Isaak and
achievements, as in Nottingham 1936, when in the Vladimir Linder noted: “After leaving the Soviet
last round Botvinnik got the gift of a half point from Union, Capablanca wrote quite often to his Russian
the English William Winter, a loyal communist mil- friend Valerian Eremeyev. In this correspondence,
itant (and with the draw Botvinnik tied Capablanca that continued right up to the start of the war….”
for first place). But the story has more background. But such a statement does not seem to be in tune
According to Botvinnik, the same day, after the with the letter the Soviet Society of Cultural Ex-
games had started, Capablanca put his arm around change, Paris delegation, sent to Capablanca on Feb-
him and while strolling about the tournament hall ruary 22, 1938. In response to the Cuban’s question
said: “You have a good position, and I have, too. Let about whether any international chess tournament
us both have a draw and share first place.” Botvinnik’s would be held in the Soviet Union in 1938, the Soviet
answer was: “Of course I am prepared to accept your Cultural Society replied: “Le Comité pour les af-
offer…. But what will they say in Moscow?” (Andy faires de la Culture Physique et du Sport de l’URRS
Soltis, Mikhail Botvinnik: The Life and Games of a n’a pas le propos d’organiser prochainement en UR
World Chess Champion, McFarland, 2014, p. 97). SS un Tournoi International d’échecs.” (The USSR
“Capa just raised his arms wide,” Botvinnik wrote. Committee for Physical Culture and Sport does not
4. Sizonenko, p. 114. However, the grandmaster intend to organize in the near future an International
David Bronstein denied that he had played against Chess Tournament in the USSR.) It seems unlikely
Capablanca at Kiev, as is claimed in some texts. that Capablanca would ask a Soviet delegation in
5. The author received copies of Capablanca’s Paris about that subject if he was actually in contact
original radio lectures thanks to the courtesy of Pro- with his old relations in Moscow, such as Eremeyev.
fessor Ricardo Castells, of Florida International Uni- In reality Eremeyev was far from Moscow at that
versity. The anecdote of Kiev was part of lecture time, as confirmed to the author by Genna Sozonko,
number seven, one of the most memorable because who explained that Eremeyev, very cleverly, left the
it was in it that Capablanca gave his famous defini- Soviet capital and led for many years a low-profile
tion of the game: “Chess is something more than a life. Later he was the main figure behind the chess
game. It is an intellectual diversion, which has certain tournaments in the spa of Sochi. (Source: Document
artistic qualities and many scientific elements. It is from the Capablanca family archive, and a phone
also a means of knitting together more firmly social conversation on July 30, 2013, with grandmaster and
and intellectual bonds in this time of international chess historian Gennadi Sosonko.)
chaos, and therefore an excellent device for establish- 10. In accordance with the historical FIDE-
ing cordial relations among the various people.” The comparative compilation made by Jeff Sonas, the
first time the lectures were published in book form order of strength in Nottingham was 1. Max Euwe,
was not in English or in Spanish, but in Italian in 2753; 2. Mikhail Botvinnik, 2748; 3. Alexander
1950, with the title Ultime lezioni, compiled by Luigi Alekhine, 2745; 4. Salo Flohr, 2744; 5. José Raúl Ca-
Penco in the magazine L’Italia Scacchistica. Later edi- pablanca, 2742; 6. Samuel Reshevsky, 2727; 7.
tions dropped the phrase “in this time of interna- Reuben Fine, 2693; 8. Efim D. Bogoljubow, 2682;
tional chaos.” 12. Savielly Tartakower, 2655; 50. Milan Vidmar,
6. On that date, the railway to Key West had 2565; 92. William Winter, 2508; 97. George S.
stopped working as a result of the hurricane of Sep- Thomas, 2499; and 130. T.H. Tylor, 2462. Source:
tember 2, 1935. Three years later, in 1938, the road Chessmetric.com.
linking Miami with Key West was opened. The tiny 11. Savielly S. Tartakower, “On the Great Inter-
island is closer to Cuba than to the continental plat- national Tournament at Nottingham, 1936,” Chess
form of the United States. Review, November 1952.
7. Capablanca’s testimony in the presence of 12. “From Señor J.R. Capablanca. / To the editor
Bravo y Puig is cited in the affidavit of Formal nota- of Chess. / Dear Sir, / The account in your Septem-
rization of dividing assets operations of the inheritance ber number of the incident, at adjournment time, in
of José Raúl Capablanca. Deed number 308, on Oc- my game against Alekhine is, in my opinion, not
tober 18, 1945, of the lawyer Dr. Raúl Santo Tomás borne out by the facts. I believe you must have been
y Águila, Havana. misinformed. I made no claim of any kind, nor did
8. Genna Sozonko, Russian Silhouettes, p. 44. Ac- I make a single move after six o’clock. The facts are
cording to Wikipedia, the Krylenko trial, July 29, as follows: about three minutes to six I made a move
1938, lasted twenty minutes. After his last confession and rose from the board; Alekhine thought for some
he was found guilty and immediately shot. But ac- time and, at some time after 6:15, made a move on
cording to the more reliable version of Andy Soltis the board, instead of sealing it, as he should have
in Mikhail Botvinnik (McFarland, 2014, p. 105), the done. His contention was, I believe, that he had not
trial of Krylenko was in April, but he was not shot been told by the Director of play, Mr. Mackenzie, to
until July 29. Krylenko’s conviction was annulled by seal his move. As I understand it, he was then told
the Soviet state in 1955 during the Khrushchev thaw. that the move made on the board would have to
stand as his sealed move, and it was his objection to eral Assembly of 1937, as well as its repercussions,
this rule that brought about the incident. At the re- can be found in Edward Winter’s A Chess Omnibus,
quest of the partial committee in charge I sealed my pp. 184–189.
move provisionally at eight o’clock, pending a final 6. Following the death of Capablanca, Figueredo
decision of the full committee. / As to my attitude edited the book Homenaje a Capablanca, published
during the incident, the following resolution by the in 1943. To his efforts is due the building of Havana’s
committee in full speaks for itself : ‘At a meeting of “Club de Ajedrez Capablanca,” inaugurated by the
the B.C.F. executive on Tuesday, August 18, at Uni- Cuban President Dr. Ramón Grau San Martin on
versity College, it was resolved: That the committee June 26, 1947. The club is located in Avenida Infanta
confirms the original ruling of the Master’s Tourna- 54, just two blocks from the Atlantic Ocean.
ment Controller; but in view of Señor Capablanca’s 7. On October 4th, 1937, Capablanca wrote to
acquiescence in the request of the advisory commit- Figueredo again from Semmering Baden. It is easy
tee summoned by the Controller, we resolve that the to see the former world champion’s growing anxiety
game must proceed from the position created by the as well as the feeling that he would receive nothing
move Señor Capablanca provisionally sealed….’ / from the Cuban government. The combination of
Faithfully yours, / (signed) J.R. Capablanca, Lon- these factors and Alekhine’s evasive tactics might
don, October 21st, 1936.” Chess Magazine, Novem- have contributed to the acceleration of his death.
ber 1936. The letter said: “Sanatorium Gutenbrunn A.=G. in
13. Alexander Alekhine, The Book of the Notting- Baden bei Wien / Baden, a.m. Oct. 4 1937 / My dear
ham International Chess Tournament (Philadelphia: friend: / Don’t be surprised that I have not written
David McKay, 1937). you more than a few lines earlier. The reason is very
14. An anecdote told by Jiménez to Jesús S. simple: apart from being very busy and not in good
Suárez in 1974. health, I was sure that nothing can be expected from
15. Olga wrote her memoirs of the competition Cuba. It’s been already 7 weeks since I left there and
under the title “The Tournament in Nottingham” in nothing has happened, and I think that it will be the
the magazine Town & Country, February 1945. same thing throughout the year. / Regarding the
16. J. R. Capablanca, Last Lectures (New York: Championship, I think that I will be able to do it
Cornerstone, 1972), pp. 106 and 107. with or without beautiful Cubita [Little Cuba]; but
17. Olga Capablanca, Town & Country, op. cit., in case they decide to do something, the first step
p. 139. The tournament awards were 200 pounds would be to put 3 to 5 thousand dollars at my dis-
sterling for the first prize and 150 pounds for the posal to ensure the match and to train as I wish. To
second. Capablanca and Botvinnik each won 175 ensure the match 3 thousand dollars are needed. If
pounds (equivalent to nearly $15,400 in 2015). This Argentina gives it, then I could use those 3 thousand
may not seem like much, but the average value of a (assuming they was given to me there) to hire the
home in England was then 500 pounds sterling, services of one or two of the strongest young masters
while the average annual salary in the United States and do a training with them, tabulating a number of
was slightly above $1,300. variants and positions that could be useful, as well as
18. U.S. Archives. Passenger list of the ship a large number of endings. If it can be achieved that
Champlain. they give me 5 thousand, then that will pay for every-
thing. Regarding holding the match in Cuba, it will
be necessary that apart from the 3 or 5 thousand,
Chapter 17 they vote besides a credit of 15 thousand. / Regard-
ing my wishes within the diplomatic career, you al-
1. Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, p. 42. ready know them and I don’t need to add anything.
2. “Cubans Down Giants, 4–0.” New York / From the recent tournament, I only can say that I
Times, March 7, 1937, p.73. played much better than I expected, since with a bit
3. “Mystery Solved by Capablanca,” Brooklyn of luck I would have been first. I had ½ dozen games
Daily Eagle, August 26, 1937, p. 18. that anyone would have won: only that I was very
4. It was impossible to verify if Olga accompa- soon exhausted and I did not see anything after 3 or
nied Capablanca during this trip to Europe, and dur- 4 hours. I had the satisfaction of beating Flohr in the
ing the Semmering Baden competition, albeit she did 1st game and in the 2nd he offered me a draw when
spend part of that winter in Cuba, for her name ap- he had to play 9 moves in 1 minute. I, without notic-
pears on the passenger list of the ship Oriente, which ing, said yes because I was exhausted. I had the best
departed Havana on March 16, 1937, headed for New game. / This means that with poor health, it is diffi-
York. However, the passenger list of the ship Île de cult to win a tournament like this. On the other
France, which Capablanca boarded August 26 trav- hand, the tournament showed me that none of the
eling from New York to Le Havre, France, could not contenders has the strength to be champion. Keres,
be found. if he continues to progress, he can have it in 3 or 4
5. A comprehensive summary of the FIDE Gen- years. For now there is nothing. With regard to the
other [players], none of them. There remains only fulness of thoroughly studying the agreement estab-
Botvinnik. I am now more confident than ever to lished by Russia with this country [United States]
win the title if they give me the means to play in for establishing diplomatic relations. It should be
good health and no worries. / When you write me, taken into account that those countries that currently
do so through the American Chess Bulletin, 150 Nas- have commercial relations with Russia at the present
sau St. New York City. If you want to send me a time have absolutely no complaint about the manner
cable, the Cuban Legation in Paris is the best. / Many in which their representatives perform their func-
regards to my true friends and you know I appreciate tions. Italy, the politics of whose government are the
and think highly of you. / Yours truly / J. R. Capa- exact opposite of Russia’s, was the first country to
blanca / P.S. I’m here recovering. I’m much better. develop close diplomatic relations with them, and so
(Courtesy of Dr. Ross Jackson, Wellington, New far they have had nothing to complain about. / Sin-
Zealand, who bought the original letter in an inter- cerely, your most devoted friend, / J.R. Capablanca.”
net auction.) (Courtesy of Mercedes Capablanca Medina.) There
8. In Austria, 1937, despite his illness, Capa- was a followup letter from Capablanca to de la Tor-
blanca did not lose any game in three simultaneous riente dated October 14, in which Capablanca told
displays, with 74 wins, and 15 draws: Semmering, the Cuban secretary of foreign affairs that he had
September 11 (+25 =3); Vienna, October 17 (+20 not discussed with Troyanosky diplomatic ties be-
=10) and Baden by Vienna, October 20 (+29 =2). tween the two nations: “Nueva York, Octubre
Hooper and Brandreth, p. 194. 22/934. / My distinguished friend: / I just got your
9. Capablanca forwarded his terms to the Sec- letter of the 14th current. / In the conversations with
retary of State through the chargé d’affaires of the this person [Oleg Troyanosky] I did not mention to
Cuban embassy: “Paris, January 4, 1938. / Mr. Sec- him anything about mutual acknowledgment of gov-
retary: / It is my honor to transcribe for you the re- ernments. You can be sure that I will follow your in-
quest formulated to me by Mr. José R. Capablanca, structions. This person will be back in no more than
Commercial Attaché, which I find worthy of all pos- three weeks. / A few days ago I did send to the Sec-
sible consideration. It is the truth that this Legation retary of State some reports in accordance with your
lacks sufficient, separate space, to provide for the use wishes expressed in your previous letter. / My re-
of the Commercial Attaché, and that we also lack spects to your wife and my best wishes to your daugh-
the financial means to satisfy his just demands. For ter. Yours affectionally, / J.R. Capablanca.”
the full deployment of the efficacious personal ca- 11. Capablanca’s letter to Juan J. Remos said:
pacity of Mr. Capablanca, his services need to have “Consulate General of Cuba in New York / February
adequate financial means. / Looking forward to see- 25, 1938. / CONFIDENTIAL / Distinguished Mr.
ing these requests duly addressed, I take this oppor- Secretary: / Although in the interview that you gra-
tunity, Mr. Secretary, to renew the assurances of my ciously granted me before my departure for Europe,
highest regards. (Signature) Chargé d’Affaires a.i.” in August of last year, you honored me by conceding
Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, p. 42. me absolute freedom of movement. I however dare
10. “New York, October 3, 1934. / Dr. Cosme de not return to Cuba without your previous consent,
la Torriente/ Malecón and Perseverancia / Havana, and to this effect I ask you to please grant me per-
Cuba. / My most distinguished friend. / Invited by mission to return to Cuba around the end of next
the Russian ambassador, A. Troyanosky, I went to month, if it is not too inconvenient. / As you might
lunch at the Embassy [most probably in Washington, have learned through the press, the world champi-
D.C.] on Monday October 1st. We chatted about onship match is practically set to take place between
the suitability of establishing commercial relations Dr. Alekhine and me in South America, most likely
on the basis of merchandise exchange. The ambas- in the beginning of next year. This is a matter not
sador expressed himself very much in favor of it, and only of personal interest for me, but also of great
told me that he would personally discuss the matter national interest, given what it would mean for Cuba
with Moscow, where he plans to travel this week. His that one of her sons won the world championship.
trip will be a short one, for he plans to be back by / I am confident that I will win the title if I arrive in
November. / He told me that, upon his return, he good form and without worries that would keep me
would write me so he would get together again and from deploying my maximum capabilities. For this
see what could be done about the matter, depending reason, I need to return to Cuba to attend to some
on what he is told in Moscow. He said that, person- matters that cause me great worry….” The rest of the
ally, he did not see any obstacle to the manner in document is illegible. On the margin of the letter
which I had revealed the matter and that he would there is a handwritten note by Remos, dated March
be glad if we could work something out. / I indicated 1: “Notify Mr. Capablanca that he is authorized to
that establishing trade relations would be a very ad- come to Cuba.” Capablanca Diplomatic Compen -
vantageous road to the future restoration of full re- dium, p. 45.
lations between the two countries. / In that regard, 12. The divorce decree stated: Dr. Juan Álvarez
allow me to take the liberty of pointing out the use- Vega, lower court judge of the East and West [judi-
cial districts] of Havana, approved the divorce decree pressions of sympathy, he did not participate in the
on July 14, 1938. It granted Gloria custody of the discussions until he had to categorically squelch
children, while Capablanca had rights to visitation Regueiro’s assertions that the so-called Cuban Fed-
and “to take them for summer vacations when eration had offered him leadership of the Cuban
deemed appropriate.” It was also decided that Capa- team that would represent the country the next year
blanca should give his former wife and children a at the Tournament of the Nations in Buenos Aires.”
monthly stipend of 150 pesos (about $2,550 in 17. The actual date of Planas’ 600 player exhibi-
2015), divided equally among the three. As part of tion was Sunday April 6, 1941, not December 8, 1940,
the division of marital property, Gloria held posses- either because it was suspended or never had the level
sion of the house at 29012 68th Street, in Buena of participation announced by the promoters.
Vista, called “Villa Gloria.” These last details appear 18. In a letter to Mario Figueredo dated February
in another file not included in the decree. (Docu- 27, 1957, Olga explained that the correct way to spell
ments of the Capablanca family; courtesy of Mer- her surname was Chagodaef. This was motivated by
cedes Capablanca.) the fact that a Cuban magazine was going to publish
13. Hooper and Brandreth include in their book her article about the 1911 San Sebastián tournament.
the details of three of these simultaneous exhibi- The same spelling can be seen in a letter sent by Ca-
tions: Havana, Saturday, May 7 not May 8), Santiago pablanca to the Cuban Consul in Baltimore, Eugenio
de Cuba, September 10, and Santa Clara, which also Castillo, as well as their joint application to file their
appears erroneously listed as having been held Oc- marriage at the Cuban consulate in New York.
tober 5, when it really took place on October 1. In 19. Actors Joan Fontaine, Martha Raye, Debbie
his book Cien Años de Historia del Ajedrez en Cuba Reynolds and Cornel Wilde and baseball player
(p. 97), Palacio says that the Santiago de Cuba exhi- Willie Mays were among the celebrities who married
bition was against 34 opponents, not 31 as in Hooper at Elkton. Musician Glen Miller also went there to
and Brandreth. Palacio is correct in the number of wed, but arrived five minutes late and could not do
boards, but omitted to mention that it was a consul- it. In time, Las Vegas became the new “Wedding
tation event, three players on each board, for a total Capital” of America, although hundreds of people
of 102. The only winner was the team from Bayamo are still married in Elkton each year.
with Julián Reyes, Alfredo Uguet and Blas Domínguez. 20. This is a sample of one of the few invitations
Three allied teams made draws. Additional data Capablanca sent to his close friends, in this case the
about the Santa Clara exhibition was published by diplomat Eugenio Castillo: / Letterhead “Hotel
Evelio Bermúdez in Diario de la Marina, October 5, Great Northern / 118 West 57th St. / New York City.
1938, p. 15. / Oct. 18, 1938. / Mr. Consul, / On Thursday the
14. Gaceta Oficial de la República de Cuba, August 20th at 3 p.m. I will be at the Court House in Elkton,
17, 1938, first sheet. Maryland, to marry Miss Olga Chagodaef. Since this
15. Reuben Fine in Chess Life and Review, Octo- village is in your district, I would appreciate if you
ber 1942, wrote after a brief trip to Havana: “They could be present at the ceremony. / Mr. Alfredo W.
[directors of Federación Cubana de Ajedrez] began Donegan, ex General Consul of USA in several Eu-
a vitriolic campaign against Capablanca some years ropean countries, who is currently in Baltimore, will
ago. I was shown a number of newspaper clippings probably contact you to the effect of going together.
which make such incredibly ridiculous statements / As I will soon embark for Europe, and my wife will
that one finds it hard to imagine how anybody, least need a new passport, your presence at the event will
of all a Cuban, could have such ideas. / Under these be very convenient for such purposes. Therefore, I
circumstances Capablanca was more than justified beg you to attend the ceremony if at all possible. /
in forming a rival group, the Federación Nacional de It is highly probable that we will dine in Baltimore,
Ajedrez. / I should also like to put on record that I in which case I would be delighted if you can accom-
was thoroughly annoyed at the unsportsmanlike be- pany us. / Yours Truly, / J. R. Capablanca.”
havior of the Federación Cubana de Ajedrez (except 21. The Cuban Ambassador in The Netherlands
for the president, Dr. Albear) during my stay in reported to Havana the arrival of Capablanca: “The
Cuba. In the only exhibition I gave under their aus- Hague, November 9, 1938. / Mister Secretary: / I
pices, they deliberately tried to make my score as have the honor to inform you that on the 7th of this
poor as possible. Among other things they freely en- month, Mister José Raúl Capablanca y Graupera,
couraged consultation with a strong player who Commercial Attaché of Cuba in the Netherlands,
roamed from table to table and actually ordered peo- called me from Amsterdam to inform of his arrival
ple who were going to resign not to do so in the hope in that city, where he will take part in an interna-
that they would thus tire me and induce blunders at tional chess tournament. The next day, at noon, Mr.
other boards.” Capablanca and his wife had lunch at this legation.
16. Juan Corzo wrote in Carteles magazine, Oc- / Today I introduced to Mr. Capablanca the Secre-
tober 23, 1938: “Capablanca was present at the meet- tary General of the Ministry of Foreign Business, as
ing, but, although he was the recipient of warm ex- well as the Director of Trade and the Chief of Pro-
tocol of the same. / Mr. Capablanca then returned 30, May 7, May 14, May 21, June 18, June 25, July 2
to Amsterdam, where the tournament is played and and July 16. It should be noted that although Corzo
which will last until the 28th of the current month. provided constant information on the facts, his ar-
/ I reiterate to you, Mr. Secretary, the assurances of ticles reflected the points of view of the National
my highest consideration. / Signed: Cuba’s Minister Federation in general, and Capablanca’s in particu-
to The Netherlands.” Capablanca Diplomatic Com- lar.
pendium, p. 52. On the conditions of play in AVRO, 3. The letter from Capablanca to Figueredo,
Botvinnik was very upset. He wrote that before the which requested his cooperation to obtain an entry
start of the tournament all the invitees had to sign visa for Najdorf in Cuba, was part of the Figueredo-
a contract pledging to abide by the playing schedule Romero archive previously cited.
(each day in a different city) in what he called the 4. Félix Contreras, “María Teresa Mora y Miguel
“very worst” conditions he had ever played in. Najdorf hablan de Capablanca,” Revista Cuba Inter-
Quoted by Andy Soltis, Botvinnik, op. cit., p. 107. nacional, December 1966, pp. 8–9.
22. The Cuban cardiologist and mathematician 5. Before boarding for Argentina, Capablanca
Domingo Gómez Gimeránez tried to control the im- requested permission from the Secretary of State, as
balance of Capablanca’s blood pressure. Gómez seen in a telegram sent by the Cuban ambassador
Gimeránez was a remarkable scientist who was nom- from Paris on July 25: “Cable 65: Capablanca should
inated three times for the Nobel Prize in Medicine embark Saturday for Argentina. Tell me if there is
for his research on hemodynamics (blood circula- an objection. Verdeja.” The next day’s response was:
tion). His friend and colleague Albert Einstein wrote “CUBALEGA. Paris. Its 65: there is no problem.
a prologue to one of his works. Gómez Gimeránez Campa [Secretary of State].” Capablanca Diplomatic
died in New York in December 1978. Compendium, p, 55.
23. El Gráfico, Buenos Aires, 1939, quoted in 6. Francisco Planas (1907–1991) was a talented
Homenaje a Capablanca, pp. 103–107. In such cir- player. He was affable and with his songs and poetry
cumstances, in which the Argentine capital might recitals delighted those who accompanied him at
manage again to hold a match between him and parties. During the decades of the 1920s and 1930s,
Alekhine, it was not time for Capablanca to recog- he was the island’s strongest player after Capablanca.
nize the ailments he suffered, the severity of which Planas felt flattered when Regueiro introduced him
he may not fully have understood. in public as the Cuban rival that Capablanca was
afraid to face. Of course, Planas was never at that
height. In Buenos Aires, for example, although he
Chapter 18 obtained the second best score of the Cuban team
with a total of 9½ points with 8 victories and 3
1. Letterhead Cuban Legation in France “Paris, draws, he also lost 7 games, playing always on boards
January 3, 1939. / Mr. Minister: In accordance with three and four. In the Havana International Tourna-
the various discussions that we have had these days, ment of 1952, 50th Anniversary of the Republic of
on the essential requirements for the Commercial Cuba, won by Reshevsky and Najdorf with 18½ of
Department of this legation to carry out its work, I 22 possible points, Planas ended in 19th place with
turn to you, officially, to document in writing that 7 points.
which in my view constitutes a necessary minimum: 7. Adrogué, a city in greater Buenos Aires, was
/ 1. A separate room. 2. A bureau suitable for work. the site where the Argentine team trained for the Na-
3. A typewriter. 4. Material suitable for the work; tions Tournament of 1939 under the technical su-
that is, paper with appropriate heading, etc. 5. A pervision of Alekhine.
chancellor of legation or other official of the Foreign 8. As told by Francisco J. Planas to Jesús S.
Service or Consular to the orders of the Commercial Suárez.
Counselor. 6. An amount of money adequate to 9. Capablanca’s achievement during the final
cover the cost of subscriptions to commercial jour- phase was 77 percent. The reader will observe a dif-
nals, etc., and transportation costs when the Coun- ference of 3 points between this number and that in
selor is forced to travel within the country because the crosstable of the event (Chapter 18), where the
of the needs of the service. I reiterate to you, Mr. percentage is 80. The reason is the crosstable shows
Minister, the assurances of my highest considera- only the results between the players who officially
tion.” Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, p. 53. were the first boards of each country. Capablanca,
2. Corzo wrote about the agreement achieved for example, had a draw with Rodrigo Flores of
by the Cuban sports institute in Carteles, February Chile, but Flores was not that country’s first board,
26, 1939. The matter of the Cuban chess team’s travel which was Mariano Castillo, whose name is in the
to Buenos Aires, and the problems of the confronta- crosstable. On the other hand, Buenos Aires 1939
tion between the Cuban Federation and the National was the first chess Olympic Games with preliminary
Federation, were covered by Corzo in the following groups, and the organizers decided to grant individ-
issues of Carteles: March 26, April 3, April 16, April ual medals on the basis of the results in the final stage.
According to Olga Capablanca (but also Euwe and and lost against 3. The local press qualified this out-
Prins in Ajedrez Inmortal de Capablanca, page 157), come as a great performance by Chilean amateurs,
Alekhine left the Politeama Theatre when the Ar- who showed the ex-world champion a level of play
gentinian president Roberto Ortiz gave Capablanca about which the Cuban had had his doubts.
the gold medal for the best result on first board and 16. “Secretariat of State. / Havana, May 18, 1940.
the enthusiastic audience cheered the Cuban. On / It is hereby resolved that Mr. José Raúl Capablanca
September 20, 1939, in the newspaper La Nación y Graupera, Commercial Attaché to the Legation of
Alekhine implied that his result was better, because Cuba in Paris and other Legations, serve instead at the
Capablanca did not face him, Keres or Eliskases in Embassy in Washington until further notice. The con-
the final. Francisco Planas and Miguel Alemán told cerned party will have to assume the expenses that arise
the story that when a journalist asked Capablanca as a result of this transfer. / Please make this known
about Alekhine’s remarks, the former world cham- to the concerned party and whichever other parties
pion answered: “But they also did not play against need to know. / Signed: Campa. Secretary of State.”
Capablanca.” That very same day, another memorandum informed
10. As per the English translation of this letter the Cuban ambassador to the United States, Pedro
published in the October 1939 issue of the British Martínez Fraga, about the decision: “I am honored to
magazine Chess. inform you, for all pertinent purposes, that on this day
11. Revista Oficial del Congreso de la FIDE de 1939, it has been decided that Mr. José Raúl Capablanca y
pp. 50–52. Letter from Alekhine to Augusto De Muro, Graupera, Commercial Attaché to the Legation of
president of the Argentinian Chess Federation. Cuba in Paris and other Legations, will serve instead
12. The FIDE Assembly convened in Buenos until further notice at the embassy under your charge.
Aires deposed Dr. Rueb as the president and ap- / Mr. Capablanca, who is currently in Havana, will
pointed Dr. De Muro. When the organization met presently depart for that capital. / Luis Rodolfo Mi-
again in Europe 1946, that resolution was rescinded randa. Under Secretary of State Capablanca.” Capa-
as it was considered illicit. That is the reason De blanca Diplomatic Compendium, pp. 57–58.
Muro does not appear as FIDE president in the time- 17. In the real estate section of the New York
line of the association. The 1939 Assembly, whose Times, July 6, 1940, p. 26, the lease signed by Olga
resolutions were voided after the war, also chose Ca- Capablanca at 157 West 57th Street, New York, ap-
pablanca as the legitimate challenger for the crown. peared in the information about rentals in the city.
It did not matter in 1946. 18. Albear explained that his involvement in the
13. “Havana, January 10, 1940. / Mr. José R. Ca- travel arrangements for Alekhine was peripheral, be-
pablanca. / Commercial Attaché, Legation of Cuba cause apparently Alekhine did not return to the con-
in Buenos Aires. / Dear Sir: Your solicitous dispatch, sulate in Marseilles to learn about the response from
dated on the 22nd of December of the past year in Cuba. Or perhaps he did learn about it, but could
Buenos Aires, where you request permission to travel not bring himself to travel. Future research may be
to Cuba and stay here for the time that this Secre- able to clarify this conflict. The original cablegram
tariat deems appropriate until your return to assume sent by Consul Estrada to Mariné, which was pub-
once more your post in France, has been received; lished in Carteles, on September 15, 1940, was among
and in regard to it I am pleased to announce that the the documents preserved by Mario Figueredo.
authorization you request in the aforementioned dis- 19. A long, nostalgic account by Olga about her
patch has been agreed upon. / Sincerely Yours, / Luis life with Capablanca in New York appeared in the
Rodolfo Miranda / Subsecretary of State.” Capa- chapter “I Knew Capablanca” in Gennadi Sosonko’s
blanca Diplomatic Compendium, p. 56. book Russian Silhouettes (New in Chess, 2001).
14. On the occasion of Capablanca’s death, 20. Interview by the author with Mercedes Med-
Celaya published a tribute in the magazine Mundo ina de Capablanca, widow of José Raúl Capablanca,
Argentino. In that piece, after having repeated on pre- Jr., New York, April 2012. According to her testi-
vious occasions that Capablanca was nothing but a mony, her husband and Olga wrote each other fre-
chess-playing machine, he remembered him also as quently and kept cordial relations for many years
“a human being, as human as one can possibly be: a after 1942, at least until 1959. Olga and Capablanca’s
playful child.” Reproduced in Homenaje a Capa- son tried to publish the book A Primer of Chess in
blanca, pp. 35–37. Spanish, but the contract of Capablanca with the
15. During his only visit to Chile, from January publishing house in Barcelona prevented this project.
17 to February 2, Capablanca offered two simulta- The book was finally published in Cuba in 1985, as
neous exhibitions, as well as a lecture on chess at the mentioned before.
University of Santiago de Chile. He met with Dr. 21. Capablanca’s answer to the New York Times
Gumersindo Ortega, Chilean minister of education, about the desire of Alekhine to travel to New York and
and urged him to teach chess to children in school. play a match against him, was published in the same
In the only exhibition whose results are known, on edition of the newspaper, September 8, 1940, p. 86.
January 26, he defeated 21 of his rivals, drew with 2 22. Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, p. 62.
23. Born in Madrid, June 24, 1873, Juan Corzo and lost 13 in 103 boards. The show began at 1:00
arrived in Havana in 1887. He was among the most p.m. Sunday and ended at 9:00 the next morning. For
loyal friends of Capablanca, but at the same time the Planas and the Cuban Federation it was an enormous
player with the most known victories, at least 10, over publicity success, since even the president of the Re-
the Cuban master. Historical data show that he de- public, Fulgencio Batista, sat down to play. The team
feated Capablanca seven times without any kind of in which Batista competed was one of the victors.
handicap in 1901 and 1902, if you except the age of Planas’s feat was considered by many a world record
his rival, who at the time was 12 and 13 years old. at the time, but never was recognized officially.
Also Corzo was on the winning side three times in 29. Comments of Dr. Albear, who was present at
simultaneous exhibitions (once with clocks against the meeting between Capablanca and Mariné.
10 rivals, September 19, 1913) and once more during 30. The Hotel Nacional of Cuba has among its
a blindfold exhibition game in August 23, 1909, in historic rooms number 305, where, according to its
which Corzo had Rafael Blanco and Fernando Ren- records, Capablanca once stayed. They do not say in
solí as partners (see above, Chapter 5). Corzo won what year, or for how many days, but presumably it
another game in March, 29, 1931, when Capablanca was on May 14 and 15, 1932, when Capablanca
played on 25 boards at the Automobile Club of Ha- played his giant simultaneous exhibition at the prem-
vana. What appears to be the last game between Ca- ises against 330 players on 66 boards. At the time the
pablanca and Corzo was April 13, 1940, in a simul- hotel was interested in serving as the venue of the
taneous exhibition in Havana that ended in a draw match for the World Chess Championship.
after 33 moves. 31. Interview with Rafael “Felo” Ramírez, a Cuban
24. None of these two regular exhibitions were journalist and sports broadcaster, member of the
included in the well-researched book of Hooper and United States Baseball Hall of Fame since 2001
Brandreth, who explained they did not receive a re- (Miami, December 18, 2010). Ramírez was Canel’s
sponse from the island to their requests for help and partner in the transmissions of the Cabalgata De-
data, even though the name of José A. Gelabert is portiva Gillette (Gillette Sporting News), starting in
on the acknowledgments list. 1951, first on radio and later on television.
25. Doctor Juan González was Cuban chess cham- 32. A copy of the letter from Dr. Schwartzer to
pion in 1942, 1943, 1954, 1955 and 1957. In 1946 he Olga Capablanca dated November 6, 1942, was part
won the blitz championship of the United States, and of the archives of Mario Figueredo. Its main details
his picture in a medical gown was on the cover of were included in the original edition of this book in
Chess Review ( January 1947) with the caption: “Pre- 1978. The letter was published unabridged 34 years
scription for Speed.” In 1952 he finished seventh in later, in 2012, by David DeLucia in his aforemen-
the International Tournament of Havana, with 13½ tioned book In Memoriam. Although Schwartzer
points of 22 possible (61.36%), coming in above the mentions the sons of Capablanca as part of the
Americans Isaac Horowitz, Edward Lasker and Her- tribulations of his patient, numerous interviews with
man Steiner; the Spaniards Arturo Pomar and Román descendants of Capablanca, as well as an examina-
Torán; the Dutch Lodewijk Prins; the Argentine Car- tion of family legal archives, did not disclose any in-
los Guimard, as well as the Cubans Francisco Planas, dication that Gloria de los Ángeles or José Raúl, Jr.,
Eldis Cobo and Eleazar Jiménez, among others. De- had undertaken any legal action against his father.
spite this excellent result, González never received In the case of Gloria de los Ángeles, who was still a
the norm of International Master. minor in March 1942, the demand could have been
26. As told by the Cuban chess journalist Jesús filed by her mother on her behalf.
González Bayolo, to whom Carlos A. Palacio told 33. In the last exhibition Capablanca also suffered
the story. an unexpected defeat against Mrs. May Karff, after
27. It is unclear why Alekhine took almost two having reached material and positional advantage. Dr.
weeks, from March 26 to April 8 1941, to send his Orlando Hernández-Meilán said there is no doubt
propositions to the Cuban ambassador in Lisbon, this was another clear example of a lacunar crisis (iso-
but maybe he was waiting for his wife, or news from lated patches of memory loss) caused by his arterial
the United States, and a possible match against Re- hypertension. Capablanca often suffered this kind of
shevsky. According to Leonard M. Skinner and lapsus, discovered later by the twin neurologist broth-
Robert Verhoeven (Alexander Alekhine’s Chess ers Orlando and Manuel Hernández-Meilán. Starting
Games, 1902–1946, McFarland, 1998), “Alekhine set in Buenos Aires, 1927, the frequency of these inci-
his case for a world championship match with Ca- dents increased in a dramatic way.
pablanca to be held anywhere in the world and asked Capablanca—M.M. Karff [B24]
him [the Cuban ambassador] to transmit it to Ha- Simultaneous Exhibition, 6 November 1941
vana, with the request that Capablanca as the chal- 1. e4 c5 2. Nc3 Nc6 3. g3 Nf6 4. Bg2 d6 5. d3
lenger to the tittle should make all the arrangements.” Bg4 6. Nf3 Nd4 7. h3 N×f3+ 8. B×f3 B×f3 9. Q×f3
28. In this display against 618 opponents, Planas e5 10. Bg5 Be7 11. B×f6 B×f6 12. Nd5 Rc8 13. c4
won against 64 teams of six players each, drew 26 Qa5+ 14. Kf1 Rc6 15. N×f6+ g×f6 16. Q×f6
534 NOTES —EPILOGUE
White has a winning position 16. … Rg8 17. Qf3 Capablanca died”), Prensa Libre, Havana, 1942. Re-
Rb6 18. Qe2 Qb4 19. b3 Ra6 20. Kg2 Qa5 21. Rhf1 produced, without the exact date of appearance in
b5 22. f4 e×f4 23. R×f4 b×c4 (see diagram) the book Homenaje a Capablanca, pp. 84–85. Per-
cuuuuuuuuC aza’s story was based both on interviews he con-
ducted at the Manhattan Chess Club, and on the
{wDwDkDrD} press dispatch of the Associated Press dated March
{0wDwDpDp} 8.
{rDw0wDwD} 36. Dr. Orlando Hernández-Meilán: “José Raúl
{1w0wDwDw} Capablanca, his Illness and Death.” See Appendix II.
37. Interview with Dr. José Raúl Capablanca, Jr.,
{wDpDP$wD} Havana 1974.
{DPDPDw)P} 38. The eulogy of Alekhine on Capablanca ap-
{PDwDQDKD} peared in Alekhine’s book One Hundred Seven Great
{$wDwDwDw} Games of Chess, a compilation of games and remi-
niscences annotated by him between 1939 and his
vllllllllV death in 1946, collected and translated by Edward
After 23. … bxc4 Winter (Oxford University Press, England, 1980).
39. Ibid.
24. d×c4?? Better was 24. b×c4 Qc3 25. Raf1 Qe5 40. Interview with Yacob Rokhlin, Moscow, June
26. Qf2 Rg5 27. Kh1 (but not 27. R×f7 R×a2 1980.
28. Q×a2 R×g3+) 27. … Qe6 28. g4 Rg7 29. Qb2 41. Capablanca Diplomatic Compendium, pp.
Kf8 30. Qb7 with a winning position. 24. … Qc3! 63–65.
25. Re1?? Better was 25. Rg4 R×g4 26. Q×g4 Qb2+ 42. The last entry in Capablanca Diplomatic
and draw. 25. … R×g3+ winning. 0–1. In Caparro’s Compendium, p. 67, was one of three lines that are
book (The Games of José Raúl Capablanca, op. cit., self-explanatory: “Havana, March 11, 1942. / Your
page 247) the end of the game appears different: 68. Today we sent fifty dollars. Report opportunely
25. Qe1 instead of 25. Re1. In this case the last move time and circumstances depart [of ] body. Cortina.
by Karff was a beautiful and decisive blow: 25. … / Ministry of State.”
R×a2+! Winning. Confusion arose because the two
versions of the games and it is not clear which one
was the real 25th move. Big Database 2012 give Epilogue
25. Re1.
34. The account in the New York Times, March 1. The easiest way to reach the tomb of Capa-
9, 1942, p. 19, said in its first two paragraphs: “José blanca once inside the cemetery of Havana through
Raoul Capablanca, one of the greatest chess players the main entrance (Zapata and 12th streets) is to turn
that ever lived, holder of the world’s chess champi- right down the alley near the wall and, after four lines
onship from 1921 to 1927, died at 5:30 a.m. yesterday of graves, turn left, where it is easy to distinguish the
in Mount Sinai Hospital, to which he was removed sculpture of the chess king made by Florencio
in an ambulance after he had collapsed from a cere- Gelabert, a relative of Dr. José A. Gelabert. The
bral hemorrhage at 10:30 o’clock Saturday night, tomb is the eighth on the left side of the path, not
while watching an off-hand game at the Manhattan far from the cemetery fence. According to the official
Chess Club, 100 Central Park South. His age was 53. data of the “Cristóbal Colón Cemetery,” José Raúl
/ He entered the club less than half an hour earlier Capablanca was buried March 14, 1942, and his re-
and without removing his overcoat took a seat along- mains were exhumed on October 4, 1947. (Informa-
side the table, and, as is customary on such informal tion provided by Professor Joaquín Mestre Jordi.)
occasions, began to chaff the players good-naturedly 2. Gloria Simoni’s comment that Capablanca did
about their moves. Soon it was noticed that his not like to dance, contrast with the remembrances
speech thickened and suddenly he said: ‘Help me— of the Mexican diplomat Carlos Fruvas Garnica (see
help me take off my coat,’ and fell to the floor. Car- chapter 15), who said that the champion was a good
ried to a couch, he lapsed into a coma before the ar- dancer who had mastered complex musical steps.
rival of Dr. Eli Moscowitz, of 25 West Sixty-Eight 3. The name of “Alicia” selected by Gloria de los
Street, and never regained consciousness.” The au- Angeles Capablanca for her child was, most probably,
topsy of Capablanca put the hour of his death at in memory of her aunt Alicia Capablanca Graupera,
6:00 a.m. who died of eclampsia while giving birth. Alicia Ca-
35. “En el Manhattan Chess Club: Cómo murió pablanca’s death was another case of the history of
Capablanca” (“In the Manhattan Chess Club: How hypertension in the Capablanca family.
Bibliography
Bibliographical and other sources have been cited frequently in the text and in the
notes. The sources listed below do not include all of the extensive material about the
legendary Cuban master, but just those sources that the author was able to review.
Books by Capablanca Caparrós, Rogelio. The Games of José Raúl Capa-

Cartilla de Ajedrez. Havana: Imprenta La Comercial, blanca. Dallas, Texas: Chess Digest, 1991.
1913. Chernev, Irving. Capablanca’s Best Chess Endings.
Chess Fundamentals. New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1921. Mineola, New York: Dover Publications, 1978.
Last Lectures. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1966. Del Rosario, Fisco. Capablanca: A Primer of Check-
My Chess Career. London: G. Bell and Sons; New mate. Newton: Highland, 2010.
York: Macmillan, 1920. Euwe, Max, and Lodewijk Prins. Ajedrez Inmortal
A Primer of Chess. London: Harcourt, Brace, 1935. de Capablanca. Buenos Aires: Editorial Sopena,
Torneo Internacional de La Habana 1913. Havana, 1913. 1959.
The World’s Championship Chess Match between José Fiala, Vlastimil. Capablanca in the United Kingdom:
Raul Capablanca and Dr. Emanuel Lasker. New 1911–1920. Olomouc, Czech Republic: Moravian
York: American Chess Bulletin, 1921. Chess, 2006.
Gelabert, José A. Glorias del Tablero, Capablanca.
Havana, 1923.
Series of Articles by Capablanca Golombek, Harry. G. Capablanca’s Hundred Best
Games of Chess. London: Bell and Sons, 1947.
Weekly Chess Magazine, January 5–March 12, 1910.
González Milián, Romelio. Capablanca entre Sus
Diario de la Marina, Havana, March 31, 1912–June
Iguales. Havana: Editorial Deportes, 2006.
1, 1913.
Homenaje a José Raúl Capablanca. Havana, 1943.
Capablanca Magazine, April 25 1912–October 31, 1914.
Hooper, David, and Dale Brandreth. The Unknown
London Times, August 1–22, 1922.
Capablanca. London: B.T. Batsford, 1975.
The New York Times, February13–March 27, 1927.
Khalifman, Alexander, and Sergei Soloviev. Capa-
Crítica, Buenos Aires, September, October and No-
blanca Games Collection, Volume 1, 1901–1926,
vember 1927.
Volume 2, 1927–1942. Chess Star, 1997.
El Ajedrez Español, January, February and June, 1936.
Linder, Isaak, and Vladimir Linder. José Raúl Capa-
Crítica, Buenos Aires, August 24–September 20, 1939.
blanca, Third World Chess Champion. Milford,
National Broadcasting Company, November 25,
Connecticut: Russell Enterprises, 2009.
1941–February 19, 1942.
Mestre Jordi, Joaquín. Pasajes de Capablanca en
Matanzas. Matanzas: Ediciones Inder, 1992.
Books (Booklets) About Panov, Vasily. Capablanca. Barcelona: Editorial Gri-
jalbo, 1973.
Capablanca Reinfeld, Fred. The Immortal Games of Capablanca.
Alles Monasterio, Paulino. Match por el Campeonato New York: Horowitz & Harness, 1942.
de Ajedrez: Capablanca y Alekhine. Buenos Aires: República de Cuba. Compendio Documental: José
Editorial Sopena, 1978. Raúl Capablanca y Graupera. Diplomatica. Ha-
Bjelica, Dimitri. José Raúl Capablanca. Madrid: Zu- vana: MINREX Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Di-
garto Ediciones, 1993. rectorship of Documentation. Fascimile edition,
535
536 BIBLIOGRAPHY
version 1. 2002 [cited as Capablanca Diplomatic Periodicals

Compendium].
Ståhlberg, Gideon, and Paulino Alles Monasterio. American Chess Bulletin. 1907–1942.
Partidas Clásicas de Capablanca. Buenos Aires: Brooklyn Chess Chronicles. 1883–1887.
Editorial Sopena, 1943. Brooklyn Daily Eagle–Brooklyn Eagle. 1904–1942.
Varnusz, Egon. J.R. Capablanca at the Top, 1926– Capablanca Magazine. Havana. April 1912–October
1942. Budapest, 2009. 1914.
Welles, Dana. A Brief Review of the Chess Record of Carteles, Cuba. 1937–1942.
José Raúl Capablanca. New York, 1911. Diario de la Marina, Cuba. 1883–1942.
Winter, Edward. Capablanca: A Compendium of La Estrella, Panamá. March 1933.
Games, Notes, Articles, Correspondence, Illustra- El Fígaro, Cuba. 1901–1921.
tions and Other Rare Archival Materials on the The International Chess Magazine. 1885–1891.
Cuban Chess Genius José Raúl Capablanca, 1888– Lasker’s Chess Magazine. New York, 1904–1907.
1942. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland, 1989. The New York Times. 1883–1942.
La Prensa. Buenos Aires, September–December
1927.
Chess Tournaments
Alekhine, Alexander. The Book of the Nottingham In- General Reference
ternational Chess Tournament 1936. New York:
Dover Publications, 1962. Gaige, Jeremy. Chess Personalia: A Biobibliography.
Alekhine Alexander. New York 1927. Milford, Con- Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland, 1987 (paper-
necticut: Russell Enterprises, 2011. back 2005).
Helms, Hermann. The Book of the New York Inter- Golombek, Harry. Golombek’s Encyclopedia of Chess.
national Chess Tournament of 1924. New York: New York: Crown Publishers, 1977.
Dover Publication, 1961. Hooper, David, and Kenneth Whyld. The Oxford
Maróczy, Geza. London 1922. Milford, Connecticut: Companion to Chess. Oxford University Press,
Russell Enterprises, 2010. 1996.
Nimzovich [sic], Aron. Carlsbad International Chess Palacio, Carlos A. Ajedrez en Cuba: Cien Años de His-
Tournament 1929. New York: Dover Publications, toria. Havana, 1961.
1981.
Index of Images
Academic certification 1897 73 Crítica (newspaper) 327, 330, Diploma 1904 91

Academic summary 1904 90 430 La Discusión (newspaper) 167
Advertisements: Trimalta 319; Crosstables: AVRO The Nether-
Tropical beer 318 lands (1938) 448; Bad Kissin- Falk, Benjamin J. (photo by)
Aguacate family house 87 gen (1928) 359; Barcelona 209
Albear, Dr. Angel de 394 (1929) 376; Berlin Tageblatt “Fantasy of Yesterday” (cartoon
Alekhine, Alexander A.: Capa- (1928) 366; Budapest (1928) of Marshall and Capablanca)
blanca letter to 305; 330 365; Budapest (1929) 375; 119
Argentine Chess Club, Capa- Buenos Aires Chess Olympics Federal Bureau of Investigation
blanca letter to 305 (1939) 458; Carlsbad (1929) 422
“Ask Capablanca” (political car- 372; Hastings (1929–30) 378; Fernández León, José 465
toon) 154 Hastings (1930–31) 380; Fésser, Don Francisco 15
Hastings (1934–35) 404; El Fígaro (Cuban magazine) 67,
Betancourt, Gloria Simoni 323 Hastings Victory Congress 124
Blanco, Rafael, match 465 (1919) 231; Havana (1913) 181; Figueredo, Dr. Mario 465
Brain 491–495 Lake Hopatcong (1926) 202; Flores, Rodrigo 327
Bucelo, Dr. Armando 465 London BCF Congress (1922) Fonst, Ramón 465
Buenos Aires 155, 330, 352, 430 268; Margate (1935) 413; Mar-
gate (1939) 452; Moscow Golmayo Zúpide, Celso 20
Cablegram notice of death 475 (1925) 296; Moscow (1935)
Capablanca, José María 63, 65, 410; Moscow (1936) 420; Havana, Cuba 48, 87, 104, 352
92, 124 New York (1911) 136; New Havana Institute of Secondary
Capablanca, José Raúl 1, 62, York (1913) 176; New York Education 73
63, 65, 67, 92, 104, 105, 110, (1915) 215; New York (1924)
119, 124, 152, 154, 155, 167, 285; New York (1927) 319; Kahles, C.W. 119
209, 225, 226, 261, 318, 319, New York (1931) 385; New
323, 327, 330, 352, 394, 400, York Manhattan Chess Club Letters: from Rafael Capa-
430, 465 (1918) 224; New York Rice blanca 55; from Capablanca
Capablanca, Matilde 465 Memorial (1913) 185; New requesting transfer of school
Capablanca, Olga Chagodaef York Rice Preliminary (1916) records 71; from Capablanca
430, 465 218; New York Rice Final to mother 100, 211; from Ca-
Capablanca, Lt. Col. Rafael (1916) 219; Nottingham pablanca to Alekhine 305;
María, letter 55 (1936) 429; Paris (1938) 439; from Capablanca to Rosendo
Capablanca, Salvador 65 Ramsgate (1929) 377; St. Pe- Romero 445; from FBI 422
Capablanca, Cpl. Tadeo, letter tersburg Preliminary (1914)
about 55 203; St. Petersburg Final Manhattan Chess Club: Capa-
Capablanca Magazine 465 (1914) 204; San Sebastián blanca letter about 100; 225
Chajes, Oscar 225 (1911) 149; Semmering Baden Márquez Sterling, Manuel
Chaparra sugar mill 167 (1937) 438 404
Chigorin, Mikhail 48 Marriage certificate 1921 256
Clark, Mae 400 Death notice 475 Marshall, Frank J. 119
Columbia University baseball Diario de la Marina (newspaper Martínez, Arístides 225
team 110 advertisements) 318, 319 Massaguer, Conrado 261
Corzo, Juan 394, 465 Díaz, Gabriel (letter to) 91 Matanzas Institute of Secondary
537
538 INDEX OF IMAGES / INDEX OF OPPONENTS
Education: academic sum- Pelayo, Ramón 92 Torriente, Cosme de la 231

mary 90; diploma 91
Morphy, Paul 15 Romero, Rosendo: Capablanca United States Customs entry
letter to 445; match 465 record 1941 470
New York 225 Roselló, Arturo 394
Valderrama, Esteban 465
Oliviella, José 154, 155 Score sheet (1909 vs. Eisenberg) Vázquez, Andrés Clemente 33
115
Palacio, Carlos A. 465 Steinitz, William 48 Wedding photograph, Olga
PBT (Argentinian magazine) 430
152, 155 Taveira (photos by) 63, 124
Index of Opponents
All references are to the page on which games begin. If there is more than one game on a
page with the same opponent, this is indicated in square brackets following the page number.
Numbers in bold indicate the named player had White. Some entries do not involve Capablanca.
Alcalde 160 290, 292, 293, 293, 294, 295, Fine, Reuben 436, 446, 447
Alekhine, Alexander A. 172, 302, 313, 314, 314, 315, 316 Flohr, Salomon (Salo) M. 426,
192, 200, 314, 316, 331, 332, [2], 331, 332, 334, 335, 336, 438
334, 335, 336, 338, 340, 341, 338, 340, 341, 342, 344, 345, Fonaroff, Marc 132
342, 344, 345, 346, 347, 346, 347, 357, 358, 359, 363, Forsberg, Henry O. 471
425, 446 363, 365, 366, 369, 370, 373,
375, 381, 384, 386, 387, 387, Glicco, M. 398
Bain, Mary 399 398, 399, 402, 403, 405, Golmayo Zúpide, Celso 21, 29,
Becker, Albert 369 406, 407, 408, 411, 414, 417, 30
Bernstein, Ossip S. 139, 194, 418, 419, 420, 425, 426, 427, Gómez, Fernando 36
201 429, 436, 437, 437, 438, 440, González, Juan 466
Black, Roy T. 135 446, 446, 447 [2], 450, 453, Gotay, Pedro 402
Blackburne, Joseph Henry 36 454, 455, 456, 457, 466 [2], Gothilf, Solomon S. 295
Blanco, Rafael 125 471 Grau, Roberto 456
Bogoljubow, Efim D. 264, 282, Carvajal, Vicente Martínez 39, Grommer, Jacques 182
294, 359, 429 40
Bohatirchuk, Fyodor P. 290 Chajes, Oscar 183, 214 Havasi, Kornél 363
Botvinnik, Mikhail M. 406, Chigorin, Mikhail 42, 43, 47,
417, 420 48 Iglesias, Ramón 36, 68
Cintrón, Rafael 403 Illa, Rolando 153
Capablanca, José Raúl 68, 75, Colle, Edgar 375, 381
76, 77 [2], 78, 79, 81, 82, 83, Conill, Enrique 36 Jaffe, Charles 130
84, 86, 94, 101, 102, 102, Corzo, Enrique 86 Janowski, Dawid M. 144, 175,
106, 107, 111, 112, 114, 116, Corzo, Juan 77, 78, 79 [2], 81, 202, 284
117, 118, 120, 125, 125, 129, 82, 83, 84, 125, 125, 163, 177
130, 131, 132, 135 [2], 139, Czerniak, Moshe 453 Kan, Ilia A. 408
144, 146, 146, 147, 148, 153, Kaufmann, Arthur 197
154, 158, 160, 163, 174, 175, Dus-Khotimirsky, Fyodor I. Kline, Harry 174
177, 178, 182, 183, 183, 186, 193, 292 Kostić, Boris 228 [2]
189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194, Kreymborg, Alfred F. 129
196, 197, 199, 200, 201, 202, Echevarría, Carlos 76
208, 212, 213, 214, 215, 218, Ettlinger, Albert 75 Lasker, Edward 215
224, 228 [2], 229, 230, 230, Euwe, Machgielis (Max) 386, Lasker, Emanuel 243, 245, 246,
243, 245, 246, 247, 248, 248, 387, 387, 447 247, 248, 248, 249, 283, 419
249, 262, 264, 265, 268 [2], Levenfish, Grigory Y. 411
274, 281, 282, 283, 284, 285, Fähndrich, Hugo 197 Lewis 160
Index of Opponents / Index of Openings (by Traditional Name) 539
Lilienthal, Andor 405, 418 Nimzowitsch, Aron I. 146, 172, Spielmann, Rudolf 146, 168, 315
Lisitsin, Georgy M. 407 199, 313, 316 Steiner, Endré 363
López, Guillermo 42 Steinitz, William (Wilhelm)
Ostolaza, Enrique 42 24, 29, 30, 39, 40, 43, 47, 48
Machado, José 36
Mackenzie, George Henry 36, Palacio, Alberto C. 154 Tarrasch, Siegbert 168
42 Petrov, Vladimir 437 Tartakower, Savielly S. 196,
Marder, Albert 183 Portela, René 186 265, 281, 285, 357
Maróczy, Géza 373 Price, Hubert E. 158 Teichmann, Richard 190
Marshall, Frank J. 114, 116, 117, Trompovsky, Octavio F. 457
118, 120, 178, 213, 224, 302, Ragozin, Vyacheslav V. 437
314 Raubitschek, Robert 101, 102 Van Scheltinga, Tjeerd (Theo)
Martínez, Dionisio M. 24, 26 Redding, Joseph D. 94 454
Meyer, Louis B. 106 Rensolí, Fernando 125 Vázquez, Andres C. 36
Michell, Reginald P. 229 Reshevsky, Samuel 427 Vidmar, Milan 148, 268
Michelsen, Einar 212 Réti, Richard 197, 268, 366 Villegas, Benito H. 208
Mieses, Jacques 189 Rosenthal, Jacob C. 107 Voigt, Hermann G. 131
Mikėnas, Vladas I. 455 Rossolimo, Nicolas S. 440 Ward, W.M. 102
Milner-Barry, Stuart 414 Rubinstein, Akiva K. 147, 365 Watson, C.E. 111
Montalvo, Rafael 160 Winter, William 230
Mora, María T. 466 Sämisch, Friedrich 293, 370
Morphy, Paul 17, 18, 21 Santasiere, Anthony E. 274, 384 Yates, Frederick D. 358
Morris, William G. 135 Schroeder, Alfred 218
Morrison, John S. 262 Scott, Roland H. 230 Znosko-Borovsky, Eugene 191
Sicre, Félix 17 Zubarev, Nicolay M. 293
Najdorf, Moishe (Miguel) 450 Sicre, José María 18 Zukertort, Johannes H. 26
Index of Openings
(by Traditional Name)
All references are to the page on which games begin. See also these
General Index entries: Hampe-Algaier Gambit; opening defenses;
opening gambits; opening variations; Ruy López opening; Slav Defense.
Bird’s Opening 186 135, 182, 197, 228, 331, 446, Old Indian Defense 172, 174,
Bogo-Indian Defense 324 466, 520 177
Budapest Gambit 357
Giuoco Piano 160 Petrov Defense 68, 82, 94, 178,
Caro-Kann Defense 316 [2], 453 Goring Gambit 302 228
Catalan Opening 427, 457 Grünfeld Defense 406, 438, 471
Center Game 189 Queen’s Gambit Accepted 293,
Colle System 208, 282 Indian Opening 262, 352 294, 363
King’s Gambit Accepted 21, 36, Queen’s Gambit Declined 47,
Dutch Defense 77, 281, 420, 48, 101, 285 116, 131, 144, 148, 190, 192,
425 King’s Gambit Declined 39, 194, 201, 213, 218, 265, 268,
40, 42, 154 313, 315, 334, 335, 336, 338,
English Opening 274, 407, 417, King’s Indian Attack 384 340, 341, 342, 344, 345, 346,
420, 456, 521 King’s Indian Defense 292 347, 369, 373, 398, 408, 426,
Evans Gambit 26, 77 437, 440, 517, 521
London System 268 Queen’s Indian Defense 262,
Four Knights Game 78, 229, 295, 314, 359, 386, 387, 446
230, 399, 524 Nimzo-Indian Defense 370, 381, Queen’s Pawn Game 43, 78, 83,
French Defense 18, 36, 86, 111, 405, 447 [2], 450, 454, 455 153, 158 [2], 365
540 INDEX OF OPENINGS ( BY NAME) / INDEX OF OPENINGS ( BY ECO CODE)
Réti Opening 284, 418 Scandinavian Defense 76 Staunton Gambit 79, 81 [2], 525
Ruy López 17, 84, 102, 106, Scotch Game 29, 30, 75, 77, 196
107, 114, 117, 118 [2], 125, Semi-Slav Defense 130, 411 Tarrasch Defense 120, 147, 509
132, 139 [3], 163, 168, 175, Sicilian Defense 102, 135, 212, Three Knights Game 125
183 [2], 191, 193, 199, 200, 358, 375, 403, 419, 533 Two Knights Defense 115
214, 215, 224, 264, 363, 366, Slav Defense 230, 283, 387,
384, 414, 511, 522 436, 437 Vienna Gambit 24, 79 [2], 80, 466
Index of Openings
(by ECO Code)
All references are to the page on which games begin.
A03 186 C00 146, 182, 466 C74 363, 366, 384 D53 131, 201
A07 384 C01 18, 197, 331 C77 106 D55 47, 116
A09 284 C02 36 C78 17, 414 D58 265
A11 407 C10 86, 135, 228 C80 168, 215 D59 426
A12 418 C14 111, 402 C83 214 D61 247
A26 429, 456 C17 446 C84 183 D63 190, 194, 213,
A30 417 C22 189 C89 224 218, 243, 246
A31 358 C25 24, 79 [2], 466 C90 183, 191, 193 D64 248, 268, 338,
A33 274 C30 39, 40, 154 C91 264 373, 437
A46 172, 174 C33 285 D65 344
A47 262, 332 C34 48 D00 153, 158 D66 440
A48 268, 292 C38 101 D02 129, 365 D67 341, 342, 398,
A52 357 C39 36 D04 208 408
A53 177 C42 82, 178, 228 D05 78, 83, 146, D90 406
A80 77 C43 94 282 D93 438
A83 79, 81 C44 302 D13 283 D94 471
A85 281 C45 29, 30, 75, 196 D17 387, 437 E01 457
A92 425 C46 125 D19 436 E03 427
A95 420 C47 77 D21 293 E11 314
C48 175, 399 D24 294, 363 E12 340, 359
B01 76 C49 78, 229, 230 D30 192, 313 E16 295, 314, 386,
B12 316 C50 160 D33 147 387
B15 316 C52 26, 77 D34 120 E17 446
B20 135 C55 115 D37 245, 369 E24 370, 405
B22 453 C62 117, 199 D38 315 E32 454
B36 375 C63 114 D40 144, 148 E33 455
B38 212 C64 163 D46 130, 230 E34 381, 447 [2],
B44 403 D48 293 450
C66 107, 125, 132,
B45 102 139, 200, 248, 249 D49 411
B83 419 C67 84, 102 D51 334, 346, 347
B85 290 C68 118, 202 D52 335, 336, 345
General Index 541
General Index
A. Alekhine: Agony of a Chess Ge- opinions after Capablanca death Argentine Chess Club see Club
nius 525n24 534; opinions on Capablanca at Argentino de Ajedrez
Abangarez (ship) 134, 301 St. Petersburg (1913 and 1914) Argutorio 51, 501n3
ABC (newspaper) 97, 110, 130, 391– 192; opinions on Capablanca in Arnous de Rivière, Jules 16
392, 499n30, 509n10, 524n4 1927 New York book 368; opin- Aron Nimzowitsch: On the Road …
ABC (political organization, ions on Capablanca first time he 195, 518n39
Cuba) 390 heard of him 192; U.S. chess El Arte de Philidor 136
Acosta, Rafael 4, 498n22, 502n13, media first comment on 126 Asterblum, L.A. 456
523n37 Alekhine, Alexei Alexandrovich 193 Asturian Center of Havana see
Adler, Raúl 509n3 Alemán Dovo, Miguel Blas 4, 383, Centro Asturiano
Adriatic (ship) 240 452, 467, 531–532n9 Asturias (ship) 156
Agramonte, Ignacio 257, 504n13 Alexander, Conel H. 429 Asztalos, Lajos 335, 440
Aguacate (street) 508n2 Alfonso XII (ship) 60 Atkins, Henry E. 137, 268, 269
Aguacate (town) 85–88, 110, Allen, George 497n11, 497– Auf dem Wege zur Weltmeisterschaft
506n43, 506n46, 507n49, 498n12, 498n13 1923–1927 328
508n11 Allgaier, Johann Baptist 79 Aurbach, Arnold 188, 194, 197
Águila (ship) 20 Alpern, Daniel 519n7, 521n17 Automobile Club 324, 383,
Aguilera, Juan 376 Alvarez, Francisco 12 533n23
El Ajedrez Argentino 85 Alvarez, Juan 529n12 AVRO (1938 tournament) 205,
Ajedrez Crítico 34 Alvarez Gil, Antonio 520n11 444, 446–448
Ajedrez en Cuba: Cien Años de His- Alvear, Marcelo Torcuato 326 Ayala, Ramón L. 22, 23, 502n14
toria 498n17, 499n32, 508n12, Amazon (ship) 153, 206–207
510n4, American Chess Amateur 135 Baca-Arús, Jaime 158, 169, 509n3
El Ajedrez Magistral 34, 74, 506n33 American Chess Bulletin 93–95, Bachmann’s Schachjahrbuch 94
Alamac Hotel 309, 353, 473 101–102, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, Bad Kissingen (1928 tournament)
Alatortsev, Vladimir 410 111–113, 116, 122, 124, 127–128, 356–360, 363, 367
Albear, Angel de 4, 141, 243, 244, 130, 133, 135, 142, 150, 155, Bahamonde, Magro 507n50
245, 247, 250, 251, 383, 391, 387, 156–158, 161, 169–170, 187, 206, Bain, Mary 398, 399
392–394, 397, 443, 462, 514n14, 209–210, 212–213, 216–217, Bainbridge, Colby 242
525n22, 530n15, 532n18, 219–220, 227, 229, 233–236, Baird, David G. 136
533n29 238, 239–243, 245, 252, 254, Barceló, Antonio 51, 52, 53
Albin, Adolf 26, 510n18 257, 259–260, 270–272, 273, Barceló, María Josefa 51, 500n1
Alcantara (ship) 353 275, 277, 281, 286, 291, 304, 312, Barcelona 140, 235, 359, 375,
Alekhine, Alexander Alexan- 325, 356–357, 365, 402, 443, 376, 395, 497n5, 497n6,
drovich 1, 83, 172, 184, 190, 507ch3n58, 507ch4n4, 508n15, 504n14, 505n30, 511n12,
192, 193, 197, 200, 203–205, 509n8, 512ch7n18, 512ch8n3, 513n27, 513–514n4, 525n24,
244, 245, 260, 265, 269, 272, 512ch8n5, 512ch8n12, 513ch8n22, 526n35, 532n20
285, 289, 300, 302, 304, 513ch8n24, 513ch9n1, 514n10, Barcelona (1929 tournament)
306–307, 311, 312, 317, 319, 325, 514n13, 514n17, 514n21, 514n22, 375
326, 330, 332, 335, 336, 341, 515ch10n1, 516n6, 516n7, 516n9, Bardeleben, Curt 191
342, 348, 349, 350, 351, 354– 516n12, 519n10, 521n3, 522n6, Barnet, José 477
355, 362, 367–369, 376, 378, 522n12, 528–529n7; on first Ca- Barraqué, José María 287, 324,
379, 380, 388, 400, 415, 424, pablanca American tour 105; 395
425, 429, 435, 438, 448, 452, match vs. Marshall 113 Barrera y Martínez Malo, Antonio
454, 461, 462, 463, 468, 469, American Chess Journal 286, 308– 467
481, 484, 488, 504n16, 309, 311, 519n12 baseball 34, 66, 110–111, 126, 133,
507ch4n1, 509n13, 511n6, American Legion (ship) 326 148, 160, 167, 240, 272, 311, 321,
516n6, 520n4, 520n9, 522n20, Anderson, Benjamin M. 464 393, 396–397, 434, 472–473,
524n3, 524n14, 525n22, 527n10, Anderssen, Adolf 17, 19, 252, 481, 508n13, 508n14, 509n5, 510n2,
528ch16n13, 531ch17n23, 482, 483, 485, 486, 487, 489 524n7, 530n19, 533n31
534n38; Capablanca’s first anno- Anglarés, Emille 439 Batista, Fulgencio 137, 401, 443,
tated game of 172; Capablanca Ansonia Hotel 218, 274 462, 477, 533n28
opinions on after 1927 Buenos Aquí Está 451, 461 Bauer, Johann 201
Aires 520; earlier 1921 challenge Aquitania (ship) 229, 523–524n2 Baynes, Thomas Spencer 497n1
to Capablanca 297; first game vs. Araiza, José Joaquín 393, 397 Becker, Albert 369, 372
Capablanca 191; influence of arbiter 101, 304, 308, 312, 340, Beethoven, Ludwig van 9
Capablanca on chess 308; 1927 343, 349, 370, 399, 405, 425, Benítez, Antonio Alfonso 392,
World Championship 301–350; 461, 516n5 524n7
542 GENERAL INDEX
Benítez Rojo, Antonio 34 Bonaparte, Napoleon see (1928) 363–365; (1929) 374–
Beón, Arturo de 42, 46 Napoleon I 375
Berengaria (ship) 353 Bonar Law, Andrew 260 Buela Taboada, Alberto 154
Berlin 10, 108, 127, 139, 141, 145, Bondarevsky, Igor Zakharovich Buen Viaje (street) 505n24
152, 156, 164, 171, 184, 188–189, 427–28 Buenos Aires 4, 5, 19, 52, 74, 118,
190, 197–198, 204–206, 223, Borinquen (ship) 402, 525n18 127–128, 131, 137, 152–157, 187,
239, 241–242, 246, 288, 300, Botvinnik, Mikhail Moiseevich 2, 193, 204, 206, 208–209, 229,
347, 356, 360–361, 365–367, 3, 79, 195, 204, 228, 291, 369, 233, 238, 254, 291, 303, 304,
406, 413, 421, 511n2, 511– 381, 404–407, 409–412, 417– 306–308, 312–313, 320, 322–
512n17, 512n18, 522n16, 522n17 418, 420–421, 423–424, 427, 324, 325, 326–355, 358, 360,
Berlin (1928 tournament) 365–367 428, 429, 431, 435, 447–449, 368, 373, 380, 389, 392, 401,
Bermúdez, Evelio 368, 374, 394, 455, 475, 525n28, 526–527n3, 423–425, 431, 436, 441, 447–
435, 530n13 527n8, 527n10, 528n17, 528– 463, 468, 472, 480–481, 486,
Bernal, Eugenio 500n40 529n7, 530–531n21 505–506n31, 506n37, 509n13,
Bernal, Ana 382 Bourdonnais, Louis-Charles Mahé 511n7, 519n7, 519n16, 519n17,
Bernstein, Jacob 182, 185, 215, 218 de la see de la Bourdonnais 519–520ch13n2, 520n5, 520n7,
Bernstein, L. 510n2 Brady, Frank 5, 65, 525n25 520n8, 520n11, 520–521n13,
Bernstein, Ossip Samuel 98, 138, Brandreth, Dale 81, 94, 112, 169, 521ch13n17, 521ch13n18,
139, 140, 141, 143, 149, 194, 197, 170, 209, 274, 388, 403, 421, 521ch14n1, 530n16, 531ch17n23,
198, 201, 203, 368 466, 506n44, 507–508n7, 508– 531ch18n2, 531ch18n6,
Beyhoff, George 182 509n3, 510n2, 511n1, 511n10, 531ch18n7, 531ch18n9, 532n12,
Beynon, Frank J. 185, 223 512n1, 512–513n13, 513n27, 513– 532n13, 533n33
Bigelow, Horace 281, 286 514n4, 515n5, 517n22, 517n23, Burn, Amos 8, 138, 149, 164,
Bilbao 513n27, 513n4 518n3, 521n1, 521n2, 522n17, 497n4
Bird, Henry Edward 500n38 522n22, 524n16, 526n37, Butler, Benjamín Franklin 14,
Bjelica, Dimitri 522n25 529n8, 530n13, 533n24 498n21
Black, Roy Turnbull 134, 135, 136, Breyers, Gyula 506n41
139, 183, 185, 218, 224 Brickmann, Alfred 374 Caballero, Alvaro 32
Blackburne, Joseph H. 8, 28, 33, A Brief Review of the Chess Record La Cabaña (fortress) 63–64, 503–
34, 35, 36, 44, 69, 117, 198, 202, of Jose Raul Capablanca … 170 504n8, 504n18
203, 223, 257, 382, 392, 497n4, Brieva, Josefa María 56, 58 Cabrera Infante, Guillermo 510n11
500n46, 500n50, 500n51, Britannic (ship) 240, 403 Café de la Régence 28
510n6, 511n5; visit Havana 43– British Chess Federation 425 “Les Cahiers de l’Echiquier
44 British Chess Magazine 35, 40, 47, Français” 521n5
Blanco, José A. 76 69, 95, 128, 130, 137, 141, 239, Caibarién (Cuba) 166
Blanco, Rafael 76, 125, 179, 181, 244, 339, 389, 475, 504n17, California (ship) 397
186, 403, 452, 464, 467, 469, 506n32, 511n5, 513n3, 518n33 Camagüey (Cuba) 59, 248, 257–
506n37, 508n1, 508–509n3, Broadbent, Reginald 405, 521n1 258, 318, 503n23, 515n4; see also
509n4, 533n23 Broca, María Antonia 50, 500– Puerto Príncipe
Blasco de Garay (ship) 14–15, 501n1 Camino, Elisa del 23
498n21 Bronstein, David 412, 527n4 Campo Florido (Cuba) 258
blindfold games 20, 74, 166, 169, Brooklyn Chess Chronicle 23, 27, Canal, Esteban 370–372, 375
500n40, 506n32 28, 32–33, 93, 499n29, 500n42 Cancio, Miguel R. 402
blitz games (Capablanca) 106–7, Brooklyn Chess Club 108, 218, Canel, Eloy (“Buck”) 472
134, 140, 141, 143, 205, 221, 229, 280 Canovaca, Emilio 464
515n25 Brooklyn Daily Eagle 93–97, 99, Cap Vilano (ship) 206–207, 213,
Boden, Samuel 16 105, 170–171, 210, 213, 345, 435, 512n18
Bogoljubow, Efim 83, 168, 195, 467–468, 471, 510n2, 513n19, Capablanca, Giácomo 502n12
260, 263, 264, 265, 269, 272, 513n20, 528n3 Capablanca, Olga Chagodaef 98,
282, 284, 285, 286, 287, 289, Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Sci- 107, 132, 328, 332, 401, 415, 421,
291, 294, 295, 296, 299, 300– ences 130, 156, 217 423, 428, 429, 432, 433, 434,
301, 302, 309, 312, 320, 328, Bru, Laredo 442, 469 440, 441, 442, 444, 445, 446,
329, 335, 357, 359, 360, 361– Brussels 195, 415, 423, 439, 451, 452, 462, 463, 469, 472–
363, 367–369, 372–374, 376– 526n36 473, 478–479, 503n7,
377, 386, 387, 388, 392, 413, Bryant, E.H. 512–513n13 507ch3n56, 509n11, 515n4,
424, 429, 431, 520n12, 527n10 Bucelo, Armando 395, 464, 466, 525n23, 525n25, 526–527n3,
Bohatirchuk, Fyodor Parfenovich 477 528ch16n15, 528ch16n17,
195, 290, 296, 410–411 Buckley, Robert John 112, 113, 528ch17n4, 530n18, 530n20,
Bohemia 27, 29, 123, 458, 483, 487 150, 223 531–532n9, 532n17, 532n19,
Bohemia (magazine) 223, 236, Budapest 132, 156, 208, 357, 363, 532n20, 533n32
512n2, 513n17, 516n18 365, 367, 374, 375, 386, 416, Capablanca, Santiago 51, 52,
Bokofzey, Maxwell 252 472 501n4
Boleslavsky, Isaac Efremovich 423 Budapest chess tournaments: Capablanca, Tessio 501n4
General Index 543
Capablanca: A Compendium of 72, 464, 503n3, 505n25, 506– Casabianca, Giocante 509n1
Games, Notes … 263, 362, 507n46, 508n11 Casabianca, Louis 509n1
507ch3n54, 507ch4n5, 517– Capablanca Graupera, Ramiro 65, Casal, Julián del 514n12
518n32, 520n4, 521–522n5, 99, 210, 226, 257, 354, 382, 390, Casino de la Playa 237, 244, 245,
522n7, 522n8, 522n14, 523n29, 395, 397, 399, 477, 505n26, 247–248, 249, 251, 275, 350
523n31, 524n5, 524n6 510n10, 524n10, 524–525n17 Casino Español: Havana 35, 45;
Capablanca Broca, Tadeo 50, 53, Capablanca Graupera, Salvador Matanzas 87; Mexico 398
54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 60, 61, 65, Tadeo 65, 210, 211, 354, 510n10 Cassel, Hartwig 108, 124, 127, 130,
500n1, 500–501n1, 501n2, Capablanca Graupera, Zenaida 4, 166, 179, 243, 245, 251, 515n90
501n10, 502n16, 503n10, 63, 72, 109, 286, 390–391, 395, Castellanos, Gerardo 500n42
503n20, 503n23, 505n30 479, 503n3, 508n11, 515–516n5, Castells, Ricardo 527n5
Capablanca Chess Club (Havana) 524n10 Castillo, Eugenio 403, 444,
see Club de Ajedrez José Raúl Capablanca Magazine 141–143, 525n25, 530n18, 530n20
Capablanca 168–170, 206, 464, 508n16, Castillo, Mariano 458, 531n9
Capablanca Diez, Judas Tadeo 50, 509n17, 510n6, 511n7, 511n14 Castillo del Príncipe (Havana
51, 52, 53–54, 59, 500n1, 501n2, Capablanca Medina, Gloria 393, fortress) 57, 59, 61, 477, 503n2
505n28 514n18, 515n4 Castro, Fidel 137
Capablanca Diplomatic Com- Capablanca Medina, Jorge Luis Cayuela, L.C. 507n50
pendium 3, 510n15, 511n3, 515n4 Celaya, Amilcar 328, 331, 332–
511n9, 511n15, 511–512n17, Capablanca Medina, Mercedes 1, 335, 338, 340, 341, 348, 362,
512n9, 513n14, 518n35, 519– 4, 62–63, 67, 100, 105, 115, 124, 461, 520n5, 532n14
520n2, 522n10, 522n21, 523n37, 167, 209, 211, 288, 323, 393, 394, Central Square Hotel 309
523n38, 525n18, 525n19, 478, 507n55, 507n57, 515ch11n1, Centro Asturiano 28, 45–46, 171
526n30, 526n36, 528n1, 529n9, 515ch11n2, 515ch11n4, 512n4, Cervantes, Ignacio 37
530–531n21, 531n1, 531n5, 515n2, 515n4, 516n19, 518n34, Céspedes, Carlos Manuel de 13,
532n13, 532n16, 532–533n32, 524n12, 529n10, 530n12, 532n20 22, 23, 57, 59, 477, 498n17,
534n41, 534n42 Capablanca Medina, Raúl Miguel 502n13, 502n14, 502–503n18
Capablanca Escot, Domingo 50– 515n4 Céspedes, José María 21
53, 500–501n1, 501n4, 501n6, Capablanca Moreno, Rafael 501n9 Chaco (ship) 161, 209, 512n2
501n10, 505n21 Capablanca Simoni, Gloria de los Chagodaef, Olga see Capablanca,
Capablanca Fernández, Alfonso Angeles (“Tita”) 286, 323, 354, Olga Chagodaef
502n15 442, 462, 464, 474, 478, 518n4, Chajes, Oscar 136, 172, 176, 179–
Capablanca Fernández, Antonia 533n32, 534n3 183, 185, 214–215, 218–219,
502n15 Capablanca Simoni, José Raúl, Jr. 224–225, 281, 330, 373
Capablanca Fernández, Antonio (“Tuto”) 273, 276, 286–287, Chalmette (ship) 133
502n15 354, 359, 392, 441, 464, 474, Champlain (ship) 432, 441,
Capablanca Fernández, José María 477–478, 503n3, 510n1, 515n1, 528n18
57, 60–66, 69–70, 72, 86, 88– 522–523n25, 533n32 Chandler, Raymond 82
89, 92, 109–110, 123–124, 257, Capablanca Tentor, María Loredo Charleston Chess Chronicle 21
276, 309, 501n10, 502n15, 50, 501n2 Charousek, Rudolf 188
502n16, 503ch2n21, 503ch3n1, Capablanca Tentor, Rafael María Chekhover, Vitali 410
503ch3n2, 503ch3n3, 503– 50, 54, 55, 501n8, 501n9 Chernev, Irving 81, 84, 128, 408, 427
504n8, 504n18, 504n19, Capablanca: Vstriechi s Rossiei Chess 425, 428, 515n8, 532n10
505n28, 505–506n31, 506– 526n2 Chess and Its Stars 507n1
507n46, 508n1, 510n15, 515– Capablanca’s Best Chess Endings Chess Circle: of Buenos Aires 336,
516n5 81, 128, 408, 427 461; Havana 20, 22
Capablanca Fernández, María Capablanca’s Last Lectures 140, chess evaluations (by Capablanca):
502n15 393, 413, 526n34, 528n16 Alekhine 312, 338, 520n9; An-
Capablanca Fernández, Pilar Caparrós, Rogelio 160, 466, derssen 481, 486; Capablanca
502n15 507n6, 507–508n7 himself 74, 77, 80, 84, 88, 95,
Capablanca Fernando, Aquiles, Jr. Cárdenas (Cuba) 59, 166, 442 103, 121, 166, 206–207, 220,
501n4 Carlos I 502n12 352–353, 449, 453; Janowski
Capablanca Garrigó, Rafael Carlos IV 52 485, 489; Lasker 415, 428, 468,
501n9, 505n28 Carlsbad (1929 tournament) 265, 484, 488; Maróczy 485, 489;
Capablanca González, Miguel 4, 314, 342, 369, 370–373 Marshall 485, 489; Morphy
500–501n1, 501n9 Carnegie Hall 92, 210, 473 482–483, 486–487; Nimzow-
Capablanca Graupera, Alicia 72, Carricarte, Francisco 500n40 itsch 413; Pillsbury 485, 489;
505n26, 534n3 Carteles (magazine) 390, 391–392, Reshevsky 240, 413; Rubinstein
Capablanca Graupera, Carlos 477 441, 443, 459, 462, 464, 469, 485, 489; Schlechter 485, 489;
Capablanca Graupera, Fernando 530n16, 531n2, 532n18 Steinitz 483–484, 487–488;
Aquiles 65, 477, 510n10, Cartilla de Ajedrez 169, 526n34 Tarrasch, 142, 485, 489; Teich-
514n16 Carvajal del Camino, Laura 23, mann 142; see also personal rela-
Capablanca Graupera, Graciela 4, 499n30 tionships evaluations
544 GENERAL INDEX
“Chess Fable” 112–113, 150 110, 111, 161, 434, 441, 469–470, Cruz, Vitelio 442
Chess Facts and Fables 94, 508n14 471, 473, 507n55, 508n13, Cruz, Walter 521n1
Chess Fever 295 508n14, 510n15 Cuba (ship) 389
Chess for the Fun of It 415 The Columbian 110, 508n14 Cuba Infinita 516n18
Chess Fundamentals 68, 175, 190, Compendio Documental: José Raúl Cuban Chess Federation see Fed-
193, 230, 235, 259, 280, 320, Capablanca y Graupera. eración Cubana de Ajedrez
414–415, 484, 485, 488, 518n33, Diplomático see Capablanca Cuervo Rubio, Gustavo 477
526n34 Diplomatic Compendium Curso Superior de Ajedrez 128–
Chess Horizons 339 Complete Games of Alekhine, Vol- 129, 504n16
Chess Monthly 35 ume Three 1925–1927 326, Czerniak, Moshe 453, 458
A Chess Omnibus 511n8, 515n7, 511n6
528n5 compositions/problems 12, 205 Daily Mirror 231, 513n26
Chess Results, 1901–1920 131 Conde, Adrián 231 Dake, Arthur 383–385
Chess Review 273, 360, 362, Conill, Enrique 32, 35, 36, 44, 45, Damjanović, Mato 428
509n18, 517n31, 522n15, 527n11, 68, 223 Davis, Jefferson 498n21
533n25 Contrera, Félix 531n14 de la Bourdonnais, Louis Charles
Chess Secrets I Learned from the correspondence (Capablanca): Mahé 13, 18, 57, 165
Masters 145, 512n6, 513n23, with Alekhine 303, 306–307, Delétang, Daniel 349
517n32 328, 360–361, 376–378; with Delmar, Eugene 93–94, 109, 275,
Chess Weekly 105, 108, 109, 117, José Raúl Capablanca, Jr. 287– 510n18
118, 119, 123, 124, 126, 127, 288; with Matilde María Capa- Delmonte, Enrique 32, 506n32
499n30, 507n2, 509n6, 509n9 blanca 99, 210–211; with Euge- de los Angeles, Gloria see Capa-
Chess World 223, 503n7 nio Castillo 530n20; with blanca Simoni, Gloria de los An-
Chigorin, Mikhail Ivanovich 4, 7– Gabriel Díaz 91; with Mario geles (“Tita”)
8, 28, 33, 34, 35, 38–49, 63, 64, Figueredo 151, 373, 438–439, DeLucia, David 362, 516n10,
69, 131, 171, 242, 252, 379, 382, 449, 450, 460, 470, 528n7, 522n11, 522n14, 523n32,
497n4, 500n49, 500n50, 531n3; with Julius Finn 339; 524n14, 533n32
500n54, 503n6 with Kostić 227; with Em. DeMille, Cecil B. 399
Churchill, William Randolph 25, Lasker 156, 309–310; with Mar- Dempsey, Jack 281, 353
26 shall 219, 277; with Henry Den (The Day) 198
Cienfuegos (city) 23, 29, 166, 222 McMahon 391; with Lizardo Denker, Arnold 433, 473
Cintrón, Rafael 403, 416 Molina Carranza 303–305, 307, Desmarest, M. 80
City of Alexandria (ship) 45, 382 312, 324–325; with Rafael Mon- Deutsche Schachblatter 301, 356,
City of Atlanta (ship) 37 talvo 434; with Nimzowitsch 518n1
City of Washington (ship) 7, 8, 33, 301, 303–304; with Leon Pare- Deutsche Wochenschach 80
39, 44, 382 des 133, 151; with Juan J. Remos Díaz, Albertini 21
Claret, José María 502n16 529; with Rosendo Romero 445; Díaz, Gabriel 89–90, 91
Clark, Mae 399, 400 with Rubinstein 255, 257, 305; Díaz Pimienta, Francisco 53
Clark, Olga Chagodaef Capa- with Cosme de la Torriente Diez Barceló, Ana María Josefa
blanca see Capablanca, Olga 529n10 500–501n1
Chagodaef Cortina, Manuel 464, 477, Di Felice, Gino 131
Clough, J.B. 259 534n42 diplomatic career (Capablanca)
Club Argentino de Ajedrez 4, 136, Corujo, Valentín 28, 500n42 180–181, 188, 205, 216–217, 226,
153, 233, 301, 303, 306, 307, Corzo, Enrique 35, 86, 506n45 231, 322, 351, 356, 382, 525n19,
309, 312, 324, 325, 332, 339, Corzo, Enrique, Jr. 464, 469 526n30, 526n36
351, 459, 461, 506, 519 Corzo, Juan 33, 35, 73, 74, 77–86, Diplomatic Compendium (Capa-
Club Capablanca de La Habana 92, 94, 96, 98, 107, 109, 125, blanca) see Capablanca Diplo-
464, 500n44, 506n38, 516n5, 136, 161, 167, 186–187, 205–206, matic Compendium
528n6; see also Capablanca 245, 258, 332, 339, 383, 394, 439, La Discusión (newspaper) 126,
Chess Club 443–445, 450, 464, 506n34, 148, 167, 178, 238, 509n4
Club de Ajedrez de La Habana 3, 506n44, 506n45, 507n52, Dolde, Howard L. 220, 512ch8n12
8, 20, 22, 32–33, 35, 37–39, 42– 507n56, 508ch5n1, 509n4, Domínguez, Blas 530n13
44, 46–47, 63, 69, 74, 95, 123, 513n23, 514n9, 530n16, 533n23 Domínguez, Plácido 32, 500n40
133, 151, 157, 167, 169, 187, 216, Cristóbal Colón (Santa Clara pri- Donaldson, John 509n15
221–222, 240, 242, 244, 247, vate school) 72 Donegan, Alfredo N. 530n20
250–251, 275, 392, 442–443, Cristóbal Colón cemetery 309, Downes, Olin 473
497n3, 499n30, 500n44 516n18, 534n1 Drebinger, John 415
Coll Vidal, Antonio 402 Crítica 4, 52, 74, 171, 326–332, Dreev, Alexey 407
Colle, Edgar 139, 372, 374, 375, 334–335, 337, 338–344, 348– Dreihundert Schachpartien 514n5
376, 377, 380, 381 351, 354, 358, 362, 401, 431, Du Bouchet, Blas 13, 15–16, 22
Colmo, Alfredo 329 436, 452–453, 456, 481, 486, Dueñas, José 334
Colón (city) 72, 166, 257, 396 505–506n31, 506n32, 520n5, Dulce, Domingo 502n14
Columbia University 96–99, 102, 521n19 du Mont, Julius 235, 518n33
General Index 545
Duranty, Walter 289, 297, 516n21 505n20, 507n56, 525n22, Flores, R. 221
Důras, Oldřich 128, 138, 145, 149, 530n15 Flores, Rodrigo 223, 327, 531n9
182, 184–185, 198 Felipe II 57, 138, 502n12 Florido, José R. 394, 524n8
Dus-Khotimirsky, Fyodor 128, Fernández, José 56, 58 Fonaroff, Marc 132
190, 193, 197, 292, 296, 330 Fernández, María Josefa 56, 58 Fonst, Ramón 462, 464
Dutch Chess Federation see Royal Fernández Arias, Abelardo 110, 392 Forsberg, Henry O. 471
Dutch Chess Federation Fernández Concheso, Aurelio Fort Knox Variation 86
475–476 Fox, Albert Whiting 99, 218
L’Echiquier 377, 385 Fernández León, José 403, 464, Fox, Maurice 383, 385
Edison, Thomas Alva 396 467, 469 Fraenkel, Heinrich 413–414
Einstein, Albert 531n22 Fernando VII 50, 51, 501n1 Fraginals, Moreno Manuel 8, 59,
Eliskases, Erich 417, 420, 421, Fésser, Francisco 15, 20–23, 497, 502n17, 503n19
438–439, 458, 460, 526n3, 531– 498n22 La France (ship) 235
532n9 Fiala, Vlastimil 130, 326, 511, Franklin Chess Club (Philadel-
Elkton, Maryland 431 513n25, 513n26 phia) 25, 107–108, 131, 133, 165,
Ellerman, Arnoldo 328, 335, 351, FIDE (Federation Internationale 217, 233, 280, 500n38
353, 506n41 des Echecs [World Chess Feder- Franz Ferdinand 205
Elman, Misha 132 ation]) 355, 368, 376, 415, 435– Frau Marsal, Lorenzo 299
Emanuel Lasker: Second World 436, 443, 460, 522n6, 527n19, Free Trade and English Commerce
Chess Champion 289, 517n26 528n6, 528n7; election of Flohr 16
Emanuel Lasker: The Life of a as a challenger 435 Freyre de Andrade, Fernando 176,
Chess Master 249, 516n14 El Fígaro (Cuba) 22, 34, 63, 67, 180–181, 187, 258, 390
Enevoldsen, Jen 454, 458 107–108, 124, 163–164, 187, Freyre de Andrade, Gonzalo 390–
English Review 339, 521 258, 497n4, 498n24, 499n24, 391
Episcopal Palace of Havana 256 500n48, 504n8, 504n9, 504n10, Freyre de Andrade, Guillermo
Epstein, Bernard 98, 107, 132 506n34, 507n34, 512n18, 390–391
Eremeyev, Valerian 288, 406, 413, 513n23, 514n9 Freyre de Andrade, Leopoldo
416–417, 423, 525–526n29, Figueira Trompovsky, Octavio 457 390–391
527n9 Figueredo, Mario 98, 132, 148, Friedrich Wilhelm II 205
Espinosa, José María 499 373, 438–439, 441, 443, 449– Frontón Jai Alai 163–164
Estrada, Martínez Ezequiel 19 450, 460, 462, 464, 469–470, Fruvas Garnica, Carlos 395, 397–
Ettlinger, Albert 74, 75, 92–94, 477–478, 505n20, 507n56, 398, 524–525n17, 534n2
507n53 509n11, 528n6, 528n7, 530n18, Fuertes, Francisco 501n3
Euwe, (Machgielis) Max 68, 117, 531n3, 532n18, 533n32 Fulva (ship) 62
169, 174, 205, 260–261, 269, Figueredo, Pedro (“Perucho”) 13
331, 357, 359–360, 372, 375, Figueredo-Romero Archive 132, Gaceta de la Habana 15–16
380, 385–387, 392, 401–402, 151, 391, 439, 449, 460, 478– Gaceta Oficial de la República de
404, 415, 424, 426–429, 431– 479 Cuba 442, 530n14
432, 436, 438–439, 447–448, Fine, Reuben 178, 280, 382, 399, Gajdos, Janos 509n7
456, 460, 480, 518n32, 527n10, 414, 421, 424, 427–429, 431, The Games of José Raúl Capablanca
531–532n9; 1931 match vs. Ca- 434–436, 438–439, 446–449, 160, 466, 507–508, 534n33
pablanca 385–388 468, 473 García, Alberto 371, 393, 395, 416,
evaluations: see chess evaluations Finlay, Carlos J. 42–43, 47–49, 516
(by Capablanca); see personal re- 390, 498n12, 500n54 García, Calixto 353
lationships evaluations (by Ca- Finlay, Eduardo 390 García, Carlos 353
pablanca) Finn, Julius 95–96, 105, 107, 339, García Menocal, Mario 167, 173,
The Evening News 98 389 181, 206, 237, 247, 287, 510n7,
Excelsior (ship) 169 Fiol, Antonio 14, 28, 74, 84, 87, 511n17, 513n22
498n20, 499n26, 500n40 García Pola, Tirso 519–520n2
Fabritzky (Alekhine), Nadezhda Fiol, Mateo 87, 507n48 García Toscana, Gabriel 498n21
326, 344, 452, 524n14 Firpo, Luis Angel 281 Garrigó, Antonio 54
Fähndrich, Hugo 196, 197 Fischer, Robert (Bobby) 108, 113, Gavilán, Antonio 28, 37, 506n32
Fahrni, Hans 213 173, 185, 195, 270, 394, 404, Gelabert, Florencio 477, 534n1
Falk, Benjamin J. 209 421, 506n38, 508n9, 510n18, Gelabert, José Antonio 63–64, 85,
FBI (Federal Bureau of Investiga- 514n5, 515ch10n6, 515ch11n1 88, 109, 113, 117, 136, 193, 240,
tion) 422, 516n16 “Fischerandom” 515n6 246, 275, 329, 393, 443, 503n4,
Federación Cubana de Ajedrez Fiske, Daniel Willard 498n12 503n6, 506n43, 508ch4n10,
243, 383, 392, 394, 443, 450, 500 Master Games of Chess 282 508ch4n16, 508ch5n3, 509n3,
462, 468, 477, 505n20, 507n56, Flohr, Salomon (“Salo”) 336, 363, 514n15, 520n9, 533n24, 534n1
525n22, 530n15 365, 404–405, 410, 412, 416– The Genius and the Misery of Chess
Federación Nacional de Ajedrez de 417, 420–421, 424, 426, 428– 517n24
Cuba 29, 243, 383, 392, 394, 431, 435–436, 438–439, 443, Glicco, M. 398
443, 450, 462, 468, 477, 504– 448, 452, 526n1, 527n10, 528n7 Gligorić, Svetozar 220
546 GENERAL INDEX
golf 173, 276 Hamel, Abel 21 Hort, Vlastimil 456, 523n35

Golmayo de la Torriente, Celso 41, Hampe, Hofrat 79 Howell, Clarence Seaman 291, 357
499n30 Hampe-Allgaier Gambit 79 Hoyo, Francisco del 23, 499n31
Golmayo de la Torriente, Manuel Hanham, James 95, 510n18 Hübner, Robert 200, 330, 332,
375, 376, 391, 499n30 Hannak, Jacques 198, 249, 283, 345, 347, 350, 387
Golmayo Zúpide, Celso 8, 20–24, 466–468, 516n14 Huerta, Victoriano 136
27–35, 37–39, 41, 44, 47, 69, 74, Harley, Brian 258, 267–268, 415, Hull, Cordell 403
88, 180, 231, 375, 497n4, 507n1, 511n5 The Human Side of Chess 285
498n18, 499n30, 500n45, Harwitz, Daniel 481, 482, 486 Hunter, J. 30
502n14, 506n33 Hastings tournaments: (1919) Hypermodern School and Theory
Golombek, Harry 452 229–223; (1929–1930) 378; 196, 280, 484, 485
Gómez, Balada 257 (1930–1931) 380–381; (1934–
Gómez, Fernando 36 1935) 404–405 Ibáñez, Enrique 349
Gómez, José Miguel 164, 221, 222, Havana 15, 16, 48, 63, 65, 87, 104, The Ideas Behind the Chess Open-
395 352, 470 ings 414
Gómez, Máximo 72, 167, 477, Havana Chess Club see Club de Iglesias, Ramón 36, 68, 504n15
507n51 Ajedrez de La Habana Île de France (ship) 381, 385, 388,
Gómez, Miguel Mariano 395 Havana chess tournaments: (1902) 415–416, 444, 528n4
Gómez, R.L. 396 85; (1913) 176–181 Illa, Ricardo 312, 325, 519n16
Gómez Gimeránez, Domingo Havana Hilton (Libre) Hotel 515– Illa, Rolando 153, 165
446, 469, 531n22 516n5 “The Illness and Death of José
Gómez Wangüemert, Luis 390, Havana Special (train) 279, 288, Raúl Capablanca” 490–496
469 299 Ilyin-Zhenevsky, Alexander 286,
Gonçalves, Claudio 519n7 Havasi, Kornél 363, 365, 374–375 288–291, 293, 296, 333, 440,
González, José 508n1 Hawley, Willis C. 379 517n29
González, Juan 442, 466, 533n25 Hayward, Grant 522n23 Inhof, Carlos 153
The Good Companion 52 Hebrew Board (Havana) 514 In Memoriam 362, 516n10,
Gossip, George 510n18 Helms, Hermann 92–94, 97, 99, 522n11, 522n14, 523n32,
Gotay, Pedro 402–403 101–102, 105–106, 108, 111–112, 533n32
Gothilf, Solomon 295–296, 297 119, 124, 132, 166, 222, 299, 301, Indefatigable (ship) 512n2
Gottesdiener, Josek 190 307–308, 319, 345–346, 367, Invincible (ship) 512n2
Governor Cobb (ship) 299, 309, 381, 467, 468, 471, 510n9, 524n3 Irizar, Leopoldo 505n20
321, 353, 368, 382–383, 390, Hemingway, Ernest 382 Irwin, Noble E. 396, 524n12
519n20 El Heraldo de Cuba (newspaper) Isabel II 53, 58
Graff College 97, 99 248 L’Italia Scacchistica 370, 527n5
El Gráfico 154, 326, 380, 449, 452, Hernández, José 32
457, 468, 531n23 Hernández-Meilán, Manuel Jaffe, Charles 115, 128–129, 130,
Gran Antilla (ship) 62 533n33 136, 172, 174, 176, 179, 180–181,
Grand Hotel: Carlsbad 371; Vi- Hernández-Meilán, Orlando 158, 184
enna 156 354, 474, 510n10, 533n33, Janowski, Dawid Markelowicz
Grant, Ulysses S. 500n39 534n36 126, 127, 133–134, 141, 144–145,
Grau, Roberto 282, 328, 331, 336, Hevia, Carlos 137, 399, 400 149, 151, 174–176, 178–181, 193,
347, 368, 386, 441, 451, 455– Hidalgo, Emilio J. 23, 27–28, 31– 198, 202, 203, 218–219, 222–
459, 461 32, 35, 500n40 224, 275, 280, 282, 284–285,
Grau San Martín, Ramón 137, The High Window 82 339, 485–486, 489
399–400, 528n16 Hitler, Adolf 450 Jasnogrodsky, Nicolai 510n18
Graupera, Matilde María 70, 72, Hodges, Albert B. 92, 120, 136, Jiménez, Eleazar 428, 528n14,
99, 210, 257, 309, 508, 510 215, 218, 381, 473 533n25
Graupera, Salvador 505 Hollandia (ship) 242 Jockey Club 333, 340, 521n17
Grigoriev, Nicolay 423 Hollywood, California 398–400 Johner, Paul F. 136, 372
Grommer, Jacquet 182–185 Homenaje a Capablanca 528, 531– José Raúl Capablanca, Third World
Grünfeld, Ernst 289, 296, 372, 374 532, 534 Chess Champion 278, 526n29
Guerra, Ramiro 9 Hooper, David 81, 98, 112, 169, Jover, José A. 509n3
Guerra Alemán, José 516 170, 209, 274, 388, 403, 421, Juan Forgas (ship) 62
Le Guide des Échecs 327 466, 506n44, 508n7, 509n3, Jung, Hans Rudolf 163
Gunsberg, Isidor 28, 33, 36, 43– 510n2, 511n1, 511n10, 512n1,
44, 198, 202–203, 284, 379, 512n13, 513n27, 514n4, 515n5, Kagan, Bernhard 197
500n38, 500n50 515n10, 517n23, 518n3, 521n1, Kahles, C.W. 119
Guzmán, Gloria 329 521n2, 522n17, 522n22, 524n14, Kahn, Felix E. 107, 174, 219, 277
524n16, 526n37, 529n8, 530n13, Kaikamzozov, Zhivko 517n24
Hamburg 7, 127–128, 130–131, 533n21 Kaiser Wilhelm II (ship) 128
138, 152, 156, 184, 191, 206, Horowitz, Isaac L. 82, 383, 385, Kaiserine Auguste Victoria (ship)
512n18 473, 533n25 158
General Index 547
Kalendovský, Jan 326, 511n6 La Pampa (ship) 161 Liebenstein, H. 176

Kamenev, Lev 423 La Pinta (ship) 14 Lilienthal, Andor 404–405, 410,
Kan, Ilia 408, 410, 417, 420 La Provence (ship) 121 412, 417, 418, 420, 424
Karff, Mona May 471, 533n33, Laquière, M.E. 80 Limburg, Herbert R. 242, 279
534n24 Larsen, Bent 383 Linder, Isaac and Vladimir 278,
Karlsbad see Carlsbad Lasa, Tassilo von Heydebrand und 288–289, 409, 417, 517n26,
Karpov, Anatoly 220, 355, 508n17 der 7, 497n2, 500n50 518n34, 525–526n29, 526n32,
Kashdan, Isaac 347, 383, 385, 393, Lasker, Edward 144, 145, 188, 527n9
473 214–215, 217, 227, 281, 284–285, Link, Alfred 474
Kasparov, Garry 48, 120, 339, 355, 301–303, 320, 327, 381, 383, Lippman, Joseph 399
499n25, 508n17, 514n5 385, 512n6, 512n7, 513n23, Lipschütz, Samuel 120
Katz, Samuel 280 516n9, 517–518n32, 533n25 Lithuania (ship) 288
Kaufmann, Arthur 196, 197 Lasker, Emanuel 18–19, 26, 28, living pieces games 163, 164, 166,
Kažić, Božidar 525n28 33–35, 69, 93, 95–96, 99, 104– 232, 397, 398, 510n4, 524n15
Kearsly, Mitchell John 498n13 106, 108–109, 114, 116, 119–121, Lokal Anzeiger 149
Kempelen, Wolfgang von 8–9 124, 126–128, 133, 134, 137– London Field 116
Kennedy, John & Robert & Ed- 140–143, 145, 147, 149–150, London rules 172, 257, 258, 270,
ward 463 156–166, 168–172, 180, 185, 272, 277–278, 306, 339–340,
Kenton, Sidney 474 188, 192–193, 197–199, 201–206, 362, 367, 369, 377, 379, 392,
Keres, Paul 200, 248, 285, 414, 208, 214, 216, 222–223, 229, 459, 514n8, 516n6, 523n30,
424, 434, 438–439, 448–450, 233–249, 250–255, 257, 258– 525n20
452, 458, 511n11, 528n7, 532n9 260, 264, 268, 272–273, 275– Loño, Emiliano 39, 46, 63–64, 66,
Kevitz, Alexander 385 276, 278, 281–286, 289, 291, 503n3, 503–504n8, 504n15,
Khalifman, Alexander 83, 117, 218, 295–297, 299–300, 302, 308– 505n29
244, 314, 331, 337 312, 320, 329, 332, 339, 351, Loño, Francisco 503n7, 505n29
Kieran, John 463 355–357, 379, 389, 393, 396, Loño, Mariano 505n29
Kings, Commoners and Knaves 223 405, 409–412, 415, 417–420, López, Alberto 452
Kingston Daily Telegraph 122 423–424, 427–429, 431, 459, López, Guillermo 38, 42, 509n4
Klein, Ernest 413 463–464, 467–468, 473, 480, López, Ruy 29, 67; see also Ruy
Kline, Harry 174, 176 484–485, 488, 489, 499n30, López opening
Kmoch, Hans 284, 288, 291–292, 500n38, 500n50, 504n17, Louisville Daily Journal 17
360, 362–363, 365, 370, 373, 506n41, 509n3, 510n18, 511n7, Löwenthal, Johann 16, 482, 486
376, 509n18, 517n31, 522n15 511n12, 514n6, 514n8, 514n9, Lunes de Revolución 510n11, 524n6
Kolisch, Ignaz 119 514n10, 514n15, 514n21, 514– Luque, Adolfo 393
Koninklijke Nederlandse Schaak- 515n22, 516n13, 526n2 Lusitania (ship) 135
bond see Royal Dutch Chess Lasker (Korn), Marta 242, 348,
Federation 409, 473 Maceo, Antonio 60, 70
Kostić, Boris 168, 180, 202, 217– Latz, Harry 279, 301–302, 309, Machado, Gerardo 287, 322, 324,
219, 223–224, 226–231, 237, 467 374, 380, 382, 390–391, 395,
261, 275, 356, 480, 509n6, Lawson, David 15 399, 442, 516n18, 522n10,
513n23, 514n8 Lea, J.P. 28 523n27, 523n38
Kotov, Alexander 81, 200, 511n11 Lecuona, Ernesto 397 Machado, José Juan 36, 39
Kramer, Alfred 511n8 Lederer, Norbert Lewis 276, 279, The Macheide (The Son of the Bat-
Kreymborg, Alfred Francis 128– 282–283, 301–302, 308–309, tle) 156
129, 136 311, 339, 353, 355,–356, 360– Mackenzie, Arthur John 424–427,
Krylenko, Nicolai 288, 289, 300, 362, 368, 375–379, 382–383, 527n12
417, 423, 467, 517n21, 517n23, 385, 392, 516n10, 522n7, Mackenzie, George Henry 8, 25–
527n8 523n32, 534n14 26, 28, 33, 35–39, 41–42, 44, 69,
Kupchik, Abraham 176, 179–181, Lee, Francis 500n50, 510n18 497n4, 500n50, 504n15
183, 185, 215, 218–219, 301, 303, Legado: Introducción al Curso de MacMahon, Henry 391–392, 397,
385 Ajedrez a Arturo Pomar 68 523n2
Kurhaus Hotel 371 Leko, Peter 364, 384 MacMurray, Donald 433
Leonardo da Cutri (“Il Puttino”) Madero, Francisco 136
La Bourdonnais, Louis Charles 28 Maelzel, Johann Nepomuk 7–12,
Mahé de see de la Bourdonnais Leopold III 415 19, 497n9, 497n11, 498n12
La France (ship) 235 Levenfish, Grigori Yakovlevich Magyar Sakvilag 363
Lake Hopatcong 272, 353, 519n1 289, 291–292, 296, 301, 334, Maine (ship) 382
Lake Hopatcong (1926 tourna- 410–412, 417, 420, 447, 517n27, Majestic Hotel: Buenos Aires 344;
ment) 300–303 526–527n3 Carlsbad 371; New York 353
Lancet (ship) 10, 12 Leviathan (ship) 298, 367 Manchester Guardian 357
Landau, Salomón 446 Lewis, Joseph 471 Mangabeira, Octávio 353
Landsberger, Kurt 26, 499 Lewitt, Moritz 138, 149 Manhattan Chess Club 25, 27, 30,
Lanier, Manuel 469 Lezama Lima, José 297 36, 85, 92–96, 98–100, 105–109,
548 GENERAL INDEX
114, 120, 156, 160, 172, 174, 209, Martínez, Dionisio 22, 24–27, 29, Metropol Hotel (Moscow) 289,
210, 219, 220, 222–225, 233, 499n34, 499–500n36, 500n38 517n2
242, 259, 273, 276, 279, 288, Martínez, José Agustín 477 Mexico 24, 33–34, 56, 105, 123,
382, 433, 467, 473–474, 490, Martínez Carvajal, Vicente 22–24, 136, 204, 229, 303, 307, 393,
491, 496, 499n30, 504n17, 28–29, 32, 35, 37, 39, 40, 397, 398, 443, 479, 504n14,
523n31, 534n35 499n30 506n33, 524–525n17
Manual de Ajedrez 34 Martínez Ortiz, Rafael 380, Mexico (ship) 181, 222, 227, 229,
Marco, George 172 519n2, 522n21 241
Marcuse, Harold 522n9 Martínez Villena, Rubén 286, Mexico City 397–398
Marder, Albert 183, 185 507n49 Meyer, Louis B. 106
Margate 134 Mason, John 25–26, 252 Meyers, Leonard 433
Margate chess tournaments: Massaguer, Amparo 166 Meylán, Alejandro 394
(1935) 413–414; (1936) 416; Massaguer, Conrado 261, 286 Miami, Florida 259, 403, 423, 434,
(1939) 450–451 Massilia (ship) 326 464, 469–470, 476, 478, 490,
María Cristina of Spain 501n9, Masters of the Chessboard 281 500–501n1, 515ch11n1, 525n25,
503–504n8 Masvidal, Raúl 396, 524n12 527n6, 533n31
Mariano Moreno (ship) 209 Matanzas (Cuba) 23, 25, 29, 46, Michell, Reginald Price 188, 229,
Marín, Valentín 376 54, 57, 59–60, 63, 69–70, 72–73, 231, 377, 380, 404
Marín de Noda, Matilde 505n30 86–89, 91, 164, 166, 257, 442, Michelsen, Einar 212, 215
Mariné, Jaime 451, 462, 469, 476, 498n14, 499n30, 500n43, Mieses, Jacques 108, 120, 138, 149,
532n18, 533n29 502n16, 503n6, 503n8, 505n22, 166, 188–189, 197, 223, 275,
Maróczy, Géza 93, 95, 108, 127, 505n23, 505n30, 507n47, 356–357, 359, 413
138–141, 145–149, 168, 198, 507n48, 507n51, 510n4, 510n15 Mikenas, Vladas 455, 458
260–262, 264, 265, 269, 270, Match por el Título Mundial Capa- Military Circle (Havana) 23, 28,
272–273, 280, 282, 284–285, blanca–Alekhine 326, 332, 31
301, 303, 309, 328, 368, 372– 509n13 Milner-Barry, Phillip 404, 413,
373, 377, 378, 472, 485, 489 Matison, Hermanis 372–373 414, 452
Marotti, Davide 269 Mauretania (ship) 288, 356, Miranda, Luis Rodolfo 532n13
Marquet, M. (Márquez Sterling) 520–521n13 Mittelshpil: Kombinatsia 202
135–137, 166, 404 Maurian, Charles Amédée 498n22 Modern Ideas in Chess 169, 196
Márquez Sterling, Adolfo 509n14 May, Lubomir 342, 373 Die Moderne Schachpartie 196
Márquez Sterling, Manuel 74, McDonnell, Alexander 165, Molina Carranza, Lizardo 303–
136–137, 167, 184, 186, 243, 248, 498n16 304, 306–307, 312, 324–325,
250, 251, 400–401, 403, 404, McDonnell, George Alcock 16, 349–350
415, 506n36, 508n1, 508– 498n23 Moliner, Adolfo 24, 33, 44–45
509n3, 509n14, 514n20, 525n23, McGraw, John 434 Moltke, Helmuth von 205
525n26 Medina, Aureliano 15, 21, 28 Mongredien, Augustus 16
Marrero, Leví 9, 497n8, 502n12, Medina de Capablanca, Mercedes Montalvo, Rafael 160, 434,
502n16 515ch10n4, 515ch11n1, 513n22
Marshall, Frank J. 85, 95, 99, 104– 515ch11n2, 518n34, 524n12, Monteagudo, José de Jesús 72
105, 107, 108, 124, 126, 127, 128, 529n10, 532n20 Monteverde, Manuel 32, 33
131, 133–134, 136–138, 145, 147, Meet the Masters 68 Monticelli, Mario 375–376, 386
149, 155, 162, 174, 176, 178–179, Mein Weltkampf mit Capablanca 246 Monticelli Trap 386
180–181, 184, 186, 192, 198, Memphis (ship) 396 Mora, María Teresa 193, 222, 383,
203–204, 210, 213, 215, 218–219, Memphis, Tennessee 512n3 464, 466, 471, 513n18, 517n22,
223–224, 227, 266, 272–273, Menchik, Vera 369, 372, 376–378, 531n4
275, 277–278, 282, 284–285, 380, 404–405, 410, 413, 452 Morán, Pablo 525n24
287–288, 292, 296, 299, 301, Mendieta, Carlos 137, 401, 525 Morgado, Juan 245, 336, 431,
302, 303, 314, 315, 317, 319–320, Mendive, Rafael María 12, 22, 23, 519n7
336, 353, 357, 359, 363, 365– 498 El Moro Muza 15, 21, 500n45
366, 372, 381, 383, 385, 402, Mendoza (Argentina) 423, 461 Morphy, Alonzo 502n15
404, 475, 480, 485, 489, 508n17, Mendoza Pérez, José 127, 156, 238, Morphy, Diego 54
509n6, 510n11, 514n5, 515n1, 304, 307, 312, 349, 511n7 Morphy, Mitchell 54
521n16; 1909 match vs. Capa- Menke, J. 510n2 Morphy, Paul 8, 14–22, 25, 27, 33,
blanca 113–122 Menocal, Mario see García Meno- 34, 35, 37, 43, 54, 69, 87, 108,
“The Marshall Attack” 223 cal, Mario 111–112, 121–123, 127, 132, 150,
Marshall Chess Club 399, 464, Meran Variation 411 186–188, 197, 222, 236, 260,
471, 515, 521 Merenyi, Lajos 365 273, 279, 308, 399, 478, 481–
Marshall swindles 116 Merida (ship) 123 489, 498n20, 498n22, 498–
Martí, José 22, 477, 498n14, 511n2 Mesa, Aníbal 237, 423, 513n22 499n24, 499n25, 499n26,
Martínez, Arístides 25, 32, 35, 39, Mestre, Goal 270 499n27, 500n45, 500n54,
92, 108, 109, 225, 273 Mestre, Joaquín 505n23, 510n4, 502n13, 502n15
Martínez, Charles S. 500n38 515n2, 534n1 Morphy School of Chess 121
General Index 549
Morphy-Voitier, Regina 14 Nacional Hotel (Havana) 379– (1913) 174, 182–185; (1915) 213–
Morris, William G. 134–136 380, 389, 399, 443, 463, 469, 215; (1916) 217–219; (1918)
Morrison, John S. 176, 223–224, 523n35, 533n30 223–225; (1924) 276–286;
261, 162, 263, 269, 373 Najdorf, (Moishe) Miguel 274, (1927) 307–321; (1931) 383–
Morro Castle: Havana 7, 12–13, 421, 450–452, 531n3, 531n4, 384
54, 60, 64, 322, 353, 476; Santi- 531n6 New York Evening Post 121, 132,
ago de Cuba 13 Napier, William Ewart 95, 117, 139, 142–143, 149, 152, 157, 160,
Morro Castle (ship) 89, 161, 172, 507 164, 243, 510n5
235, 239, 382, 389, 400–401 Napoleon I 10, 11, 50, 51, 53 New York Times 25, 27, 72, 95, 121,
Moscow 10, 11, 114, 149, 191, 194, National Chess Federation of Cuba 122, 134, 150, 182, 238, 239,
223, 244, 276, 302, 308, 311– see Federación Nacional de Aje- 240, 241, 250, 251, 255, 287, 288,
312, 329, 334, 348–349, 354, drez 289, 297, 298, 299, 300, 302,
363, 369, 373, 423, 432–433, National Hotel (Moscow) 419 306, 308, 311, 312, 315, 319, 324,
440, 448, 455, 457, 506n38, Nederlandse Schaakbond see 352, 353, 361, 367, 368, 369,
508n17, 516n18, 516–517n21, Royal Dutch Chess Federation 373, 374, 377, 378, 381, 389,
517n27, 518n34, 525–526n29, Neptunia (ship) 452 390, 395, 399, 400, 401, 402,
526n2, 526–527n3 New in Chess 224, 508n2, 526n3, 415, 416, 433, 434, 444, 462,
Moscow tournaments: (1925) 532n19 463, 467, 473, 474, 475, 501n5,
286–300; (1935) 405–412; New Orleans, Louisiana 13–15, 505n27, 512n18, 514n6, 514n11,
(1936) 415–421 19–20, 27, 111–112, 133–134, 516n17, 516n20, 517n23,
Moscowitz, Eli 474, 534n34 150, 169, 170, 213, 220, 279, 518ch11n36, 518ch11n37,
Moskauer Deutschen Zeitung 332 497n2, 498n21, 512n3 518ch12n1, 519n11, 519n18,
Mount Sinai Hospital 467, 474, New Orleans Times-Democrat 69, 519n21, 520n3, 521n4, 522n18,
490, 496, 534n34 94 523n26, 523n27, 525n21,
Mundial 326, 481, 486, 499n25 New York 3, 7–9, 20–23, 25–28, 525n26, 526n33, 528n2, 532n17,
El Mundo (newspaper): Buenos 30, 34, 36, 38, 42–46, 72, 83, 532n21, 534n34
Aires 452; Havana 236–237, 255, 85–87, 89, 92–96, 98, 101–102, Das New Yorker Schach-Turnier
352, 442, 462, 468–469, 104–108, 111–112, 114–116, 118, 1927 368
513n23; San Juan 402, 413, 120–123, 126–132, 139–143, Newcastle Week Chronicle 513n25
525n20 149–150, 152–153, 156–158, Newcombe, Warren 399
Mundo Argentino 506n41, 532n14 160–161, 164, 169–173, 186– News and Gossip of the Chess Play-
Muñoz, Enrique 27, 31, 93, 187, 197, 199, 205, 209–211, ers 93
500n39 220–222, 229, 235–236, 238, Nicholas II 161, 204, 518
Muñoz, Juan 27, 31, 500n39 240–243, 250–251, 255, 259, Nielsen, Jørn Erik 195,
Muñoz, Manuel 500n39 263, 273–274, 287–289, 291– 518ch11n39, 518ch12n5
Muñoz, Victor 133, 147, 509n5 292, 297–306, 322–325, 327, Nimzowitsch, Aron 1, 68, 101,
Munsey’s Magazine 64, 66, 92, 329–330, 339, 345, 347–349, 128, 138, 140, 141, 142, 145, 146,
503n5, 505–506n31 352–354, 356, 361–362, 367– 149, 172, 174, 184, 194–195,
Murature, José Luis 209 369, 371, 373–374, 377–379, 197–201, 203, 273, 284, 286,
The Murders in the Rue Morgue 10 381–382, 386, 389–390, 393, 299, 301, 303–304, 306, 311,
Muro, Augusto De 451, 459–461 395, 398–399, 400–403, 406, 313, 315–317, 319, 357, 359–360,
Muro, Pablo 166 413, 415–416, 432–435, 441, 365–366, 369–370, 372–374,
El Museo (magazine) 500n4 443–444, 448, 467, 469–476, 413, 455, 509n18, 514n5,
Mussolini, Benito 52 478–480, 485, 488, 490, 497n8, 518ch11n39, 518ch12n5, 519n10,
My Best Games of Chess 1924–1937 498n21, 499n26, 500n39, 510n9, 519n15, 519n18, 524n3
83, 514n5 510n15, 510n18, 511n2, 511n11, Nobre, Joseph L. 12, 497–498n12
My Chess Career 64, 67, 74, 80, 511n13, 512n18, 512n6, 512n7, Nordlivländisch Zeitung 194
83–84, 97, 101, 103, 111, 121, 513n17, 514n6, 514n11, Notes of a Soviet Master 286,
137–140, 166, 198–200, 206, 515ch10n5, 515ch10n9, 517n29
222–223, 229–230, 235–236, 515ch11n1, 516n9, 516n10, Noticias Gráficas 461
259, 320, 506n35, 506n39, 516n13, 516n14, 517n23, 517n30, Nouveau Traité du jeu des échecs
506n41, 506n42, 508n14, 517n32, 518n2, 518n4, 519n12, 13
512n18, 514n5, 526n34 519n15, 519n19, 520n12, Nugent, Charles 108, 507n2
My Fifty Years of Chess 121, 138, 521ch13n16, 521ch14n2, Núñez, Emilio 216
178 521ch14n4, 522n20, 525n18,
My Great Predecessors 118, 273, 525n25, 525n27, 528ch16n16, The Observer 258, 277
499n25, 514n5 528ch17n4, 528–529n7, 529n10, Ocampo, Raúl 524n17
“My Recollections: Capablanca” 529n11, 530n18, 530n20, odds games 21, 42, 68
291 531n22, 532n19, 532n20; see also Odon, Saint 70, 504n20
following entries Ogle, Christopher 269
La Nación (newspaper) 19, 244, New York Athletic Club 94 Ohl, John F. 10, 12, 498n13
291, 328, 368, 519n16, 521n1, New York chess tournaments: Oliviella, José 155
531–532n9 (1910) 128–130; (1911) 134–136; Olland, Adolf Georg 231
550 GENERAL INDEX
On the Road to the World Champi- Palau, Luis 336 Petri, Numa 22
onship 1923–1927 see Auf dem Palmer, Pedro 21 Petrograd 140, 290
Wege … La Pampa (ship) 161 Petrov, Vladimir 436–439, 458
107 Great Chess Battles 192 Pan American Airways 219, 464, Philadelphia Inquirer 119, 155
opening defenses (mentions): 470 Philidor, François-André Danican
Cambridge Springs 335; Dutch Panov, Vasily 118, 244, 262, 290, 498n16, 499n25
80, 383; French 329–330, 409, 453, 511n12, 517n28 Phillips, Harold M. 95, 183, 185,
419; Morphy in the Ruy López Paredes, León 44, 74, 76, 109, 122, 309, 389, 433, 467
Opening 17; Nimzowitsch (In- 124–125, 133, 148, 151, 156–157, Pi, Guillermo 236, 258, 262, 276,
dian) 297; Orthodox 358; Sicil- 180, 508ch5n1, 509n11, 510n6 298, 513n17
ian 34, 134, 269, 290, 419; Siesta Paris 16, 19–20, 28–29, 34, 39, Piazzini, Eduardo 154, 401, 441,
or Capablanca (in the Ruy 136, 137, 143, 149, 151–153, 157, 460
López) 297, 363; Slav 392, 411; 170, 188, 193–194, 197, 206, 231, A Picture History of Chess 516n13
Vienna 168; White Indian 235, 239–240, 259, 265, 307, Pillsbury, Harry Nelson 69, 74,
(Benoni) 284; see Index of Open- 326, 354, 356, 360–362, 367, 108, 112, 119, 128, 188, 485, 489,
ings for games 377–378, 380, 382, 388–389, 504n17, 505–506n31, 506n32,
opening gambits (mentions): 401, 406, 415, 439–440, 443, 508n18, 510n18, 514n6
Benko 199; Budapest 357; Evans 446, 459, 462, 468, 470, 478, Pinar del Río (Cuba ) 69–70, 166,
26; Hampe-Allgaier 79; King’s 482, 486–487, 497n9, 512n18, 444, 464, 467
197, 284; Queen’s 246, 297; Rice 513n27, 523n30, 523ch15n2, Pino, Domingo del 501n10
93–95, 510; Staunton 81; 525n19, 526n30, 527n9, La Pinta (ship) 14
Steinitz 24; Wing gambit in the 528–529n7, 529n9, 531n1, Pirc, Vasja 410, 411
Sicilian Defense 134; see Index of 531n5, 532n16 Planas, Francisco J. 383, 394,
Openings for games Paris (1938 tournament) 439–440 443–444, 452–453, 457, 463–
opening variations (mentions): Paris (ship) 259, 288, 388 464, 467, 469, 517n22, 530n17,
Argentinian Variation in the Partidas Clásicas de Capablanca 531n6, 531n8
Queen’s Pawn 336; Dragon Vari- 118, 150, 254, 369, 411 Platz, Joseph 467
ation in the Sicilian Defense Patterson, Guillermo 181, 189, Plaza Hotel: Havana 177
269; Lasker Variation in the 216–217 Pleasure Island: Tourism and Temp-
Queen’s Pawn 116; Paulsen Vari- Paul Morphy: The Pride and Sor- tation in Cuba 515n3
ation in the Sicilian Defense row of Chess 15 Poe, Edgar Allan 9, 10, 498n13
481; Tartakower Variation in the Paulsen, Louis 119, 186, 273, 481– Pokorny, Rudolf 123
Queen’s Gambit Declined 266; 482, 486 Pollock, William 510n18
see Index of Openings for games Pazos, Rafael 240, 242–243, 464 Ponce, Alberto 32, 37, 44, 239,
Opočenský, Karel 458 Pélaez, Carlos 390, 394–395, 464, 243, 244, 250, 251, 252, 310
Oriente (ship) 393, 416, 433, 435, 524n9, 524–525n17 Portela, Carlos 328, 335
441, 444, 462, 509n1, 528n4 Pelayo de la Torriente, Ramón 88, Portela, Ramiro Hernández 452,
Orizaba (ship) 45, 286, 301, 518n4 89, 92, 97–99, 109–110, 507n50, 460
Ortiz, Roberto 531–532n9 508n11 Portela, René 125, 155, 186, 187,
Oskam, Gerard 82, 362–363, 425 Penco, Luigi 527n5 508–509n3, 509n4
Ostend 135–137, 167, 404 Pennsylvania (ship) 395 Die Praxis meines Systems 195,
Ostolaza, Enrique 41–42, 223 Pennsylvania (state) 118, 220, 480 514n5
Otis (ship) 12 Pennsylvania Hotel 240 La Prensa: Buenos Aires 328, 351,
The Oxford Companion to Chess 98 Peraza, Carlos G. 474, 534n35 354, 362, 536; Havana 169; New
Perdido en Buenos Aires 329, York 320
El Pablo Morphy (magazine) 20, 520n11 President Roosevelt (ship) 273
33–34, 45–46, 48, 498n19, Pérez, Domingo A. 256 Price, Hubert E. 158, 169, 377, 378
498n20, 500n54, 504n13 Pérez del Castillo, Domingo A Primer of Chess 392, 414, 415,
Packard automobile 444 504n15 526n34, 526n35, 532n20
Packard Hotel (Havana) 416, Pérez Mendoza, José 127, 156, 238, Princeton University 101–102, 217
433–434 304, 307, 312, 349, 511n7 Prins, Lodewijk 117, 169, 174, 447,
Páginas de Ajedrez 136 Perkins, C.F. 218 456, 531–532n9, 533n25
Palacio, Alberto 154, 187 personal relationships evaluations Prokeš, Ladislav 374, 375, 386
Palacio, Carlos A. 32–33, 464, (by Capablanca): Alekhine 193, Prokofiev, Sergei 190, 203, 226,
467, 468, 498n17, 499n32, 223; Em. Lasker 96, 428; 511n4, 511n13, 513n20, 526n3
500n44, 508n12, 510n4, 513n18, Maróczy 141; Rubinstein 141, La Provence (ship) 121
530n13, 533n26 353; Schlechter 142; Tarrasch Pryce, Reginald Michell 188
Palacios Capablanca, Alicia 72, 142–143; Teichmann 140–141; Przepiórka, Dawid 288, 375
478, 505, 534n3 see also chess evaluations (by Ca- Pudovkin, Vsevelod 295
Palacios Capablanca, Brígida 479 pablanca) Puello, Eusebio 53
Palacios Capablanca, Gloria 478 Petit Club 23 Puerto Príncipe (Cuba ) 59, 61,
Palacios Capablanca, Rafael 478 petite combinaison 68, 134, 148, 503n23; see also Camagüey
Palacios Moreno, Rafael 478 370 Pulcheiro, Gauby 521n1
General Index 551
Queen Mary (ship) 444 Rokhlin, Yacob Gerasimovich 4, St. Petersburg 7, 39, 45, 101, 114,
Querencio, Carlos Augusto 340, 193, 291, 418, 419, 420, 475, 126, 149–150, 172, 174, 181, 184,
343–344, 349–350, 461, 521n19 517n30, 526n2 188–195, 198–206, 213, 218–219,
Quesada Aróstegui, Gonzalo de Romanovsky, Piotr Arsenevich 285, 289–290, 308, 339, 354,
137, 188–189, 204–206, 248, 192, 195, 202, 204, 205, 289, 373, 388, 424, 473, 511n7,
256, 511n2 298, 410, 412 523n37
Romero, Rosendo 4, 214, 403, St. Petersburg (1914 tournament)
Rabinovich, Abraham 290, 291, 416, 442–445, 464, 467–469, 199–206
296, 333, 410, 411 509n11, 512n7, 517n22 Salwe, Gerz (George) 138, 190
Ragozin, Vyacheslav 410, 411, 412, Romi, Massimiliano 439 Sämisch, Friedrich 141, 293, 296,
417, 420, 437, 438, 439 Roosevelt, Franklin Delano 390, 370–373, 509n18
Ramírez, Rafael (“Felo”) 533n31 403, 514n20, 521n16 San Ignacio (ship) 62
Ramsgate (1929 tournament) 368, Roosevelt, George Allen 339, San Juan (Puerto Rico) 59, 70,
377 521n16 209, 402–403, 416, 502n12,
Raubitschek, Robert 101, 102 Roosevelt, Theodore 521n16 525n18
Reca, Damián M. 336 Rosario (sugar mill) 88, 507n49 San Juan de Dios (street) 70
Rech (The Speech) 198 Rose, Herbert Jennings 107 Sánchez, Rolando 470
El Redactor 13 Rosebault, F.D. (aka Dana Welles) Sandalio de Noda, Tranquilino
Redding, Joseph D. 93–94 155–156, 158, 170, 172, 510n8 505n30
Regueiro, Victor 443–444, 450, Roselló, Arturo Alfonso 173, 374, Santa Clara (Cuba ) 70–72, 442,
451, 462, 530n16, 531n6 380, 389, 394 505n24, 516n18, 530n13
Reichhelm, Gustavus Charles Rosen, Leon 132 Santa Clara (ship) 462
499n33, 499n34, 500n38 Rosenthal, Jacob Carl 106–107, Santa Elena (ship) 461
Reilly, Brian 413 130, 218, 507–508n7 Santasiere, Anthony 274, 383–385
Reinfeld, Fred 117, 273, 285, 312, Rossolimo, Nicolas 270, 439, 440 Santiago de Cuba 13, 20, 58–59,
509n18, 515n9 Rothschild, Salomon 25, 140 166–167, 221, 442, 510n15,
Reiseerinnerungen an Cuba, Nord– Rotlewi, Gertz 191 530n13
und Südamerica 10 Royal Dutch Chess Federation Santiago de las Vegas (Cuba ) 442,
Remos, Juan J. 441, 529n11 234 518n3
Rensolí, Fernando 125, 509n4, Rubinstein, Akiva Kiwelowicz Santo Tomás y Aguila, Raúl 527n7
533n23 124, 127–129, 138, 141, 143, Saratoga (ship) 27, 126, 160–161,
La République Française 35 145–149, 171, 176, 184, 192, 195, 170, 176, 186, 217, 221
Reshevsky, Samuel 66, 69, 76, 134, 198–200, 203–206, 223, 255, Saratoga Springs, New York 29
205, 240, 399, 413–414, 424, 257–260, 269, 272, 278–279, Sardiñas, Eligio (“Kid Chocolate”)
427–429, 431, 437–438, 444, 290, 296, 353, 357, 359, 365– 504n13
448–449, 469–470, 510–511n18, 366, 369, 372, 374–375, 377, Saxon, Charles 474
527n10, 531n6, 533n37 411, 485, 489, 509n15, 517– Het Schaakphenomeen José Raoul
Réti, Richard 18, 128, 129, 195– 518n32 Capablanca 117, 169
197, 234, 260, 268–269, 272, Rueb, Alexander 355, 356, 368, Schachwelt 145
281, 284–286, 291, 296, 299, 382, 435, 522n7, 532n12 Scheltinga, Theo Van 454, 458
309–310, 328–329, 347, 357, Ruíz, Enrique G. 512n1 schism in Cuban chess 443
359–360, 365–367, 384, 484, Ruíz de Valdespino, Antón 497n5 Schlechter, Karl 126–127, 133, 138,
485, 488 rule changes 171, 172; see also Lon- 140, 142, 145, 149, 168, 184,
Revista de Ajedrez 34, 39, 40, 42, don rules 192, 198, 205, 208, 223, 252,
497n2, 506n45 Russell, Hanon W. 286, 309, 311 273, 320, 485, 489, 514n6
Revista del Club Argentino de Aje- Russell, Walter J. 157 Schlumberger, William 7, 11, 12,
drez 136, 153, 506n36 Russell collection 522n14, 524n5 497n10, 497n11
Rey Ardid, Ramón 376 Russian Silhouettes 526n3, 527n8, Schmidt, Louis 510–511n18
Reyes, Julián 530n13 532n19 Schroeder, Alfred 218
Reynolds, Quentin 508n13 Russian Tea Room (New York) Schwartzer, Albert 469–470, 472,
Ribera, Angel 376 463 474, 523n33, 533n32
Rice, Isaac L. 93–95, 101, 131, 217– Ruy López opening (mentions) Schwartzman, Aaron 520n8
219 206, 214–215, 223, 246, 297, Scott, Roland 230, 231
Rice Chess Club 95–96, 106, 111, 363, 485; see Index of Openings Sebastián II 29
181–185, 202, 281, 330, 510n2 for games Seidel, Tosha 132
Rionda, Manuel 97, 161 Semmering Baden 291, 433,
Riumin, Nicolai 406, 409, 410, Sabas Alomá, Mariblanca 516n15 528n4, 528n7, 529n8
417, 420 Sabouroff, Peter Alexandrovich Semmering Baden (1937 tourna-
Rivadavia (ship) 209 204 ment) 435–439
Rivera, Primo de 138 Sagua la Grande (Cuba ) 166 Sergeant, Edward Guthlac 377–
Rivero, José Ignacio 477 Šahovski Glasnik 335 378, 413, 416, 452
Robertson, Virginia 8 Saint-Amant, Pierre Charles Sergeant, Phillip Walsingham 188,
Rojas, Manuel de 8 Fournier de 165–166 499n26
552 GENERAL INDEX
Serrano, Charles 18 296, 301, 311, 313, 315, 319, 328, Tauber, Leonard 188, 197
Serrano, Francisco 14 357–359, 363, 365–366, 372– Taveira, Alfredo 63, 66, 123–124,
Serrano, Waldo 506–507n46 374, 392, 410–412, 519n14, 504n10, 508n2
Sevilla 50, 501n10, 513n27, 513– 524n3 Teichmann, Richard 138, 140–141,
514n4 El Sport (magazine) 34, 38 145, 148–149, 184, 188–190,
Sevilla Hotel (Havana) 467 Ståhlberg, Gideon 118, 150, 193, 197–198, 205, 246
Shakhmatny Listok 293 202, 254, 293, 346, 369, 410– De Telegraaf 116, 242, 252
Shakhmaty v SSSR 331, 412 412, 421, 433, 458, 526n31 El Telégrafo Hotel (Havana) 46
Shipley, Walter Penn 52, 119–120, Stalin, Josef 421, 423, 467, 526n3 Tennenwurzel, Edward 136, 176,
128, 131, 165, 233, 235, 239, 278, Standage, Tom 12, 497–498n12, 183, 185, 218, 510n2
311, 375, 379, 499n33, 499n34, 498n13 Tenner, Oscar 433
500n38, 501n5, 523n34 Stapfer, John H. 176, 182, 183 Tentor Marcoletta, Ana María 50,
Showalter, Jackson Whipps 119– Staunton, Howard 16–17, 37, 166, 500–501n1
120, 504n17, 508n18, 510n18 270, 272, 279, 498n16 Teoria Ladienykh Okonchanii 334
Siboney (ship) 322 Staunton’s Gambit 81 Teutonic (ship) 44
Sicre, Félix 13, 15–17, 20–21, 24– Steiner, André (Endré) 363, 365, Thayer, Ernest 510n2
25, 498n16, 498n18, 499n26 375, 472 Think Like a Grandmaster 81, 200
Sicre, José María 16–18, 22, 498– Steiner, Hermann 365, 383–385, Third American Chess Congress
499n24 397, 524n15, 533n25 27
El Siglo 15–16, 19–20, 498n22 Steinitz, Flora 37–38 Thomas, George Alan 134, 191,
Simoni Argilagos, Amalia 257 Steinitz, William (Wilhelm) 7, 8, 214, 229, 231, 347, 368, 372–
Simoni Betancourt, Amalia 257, 18, 21–22, 24–31, 33–49, 63–64, 375, 377–378, 380, 404–405,
395 69, 106, 112, 117, 121, 126, 128, 413, 416, 427, 429, 431, 450, 452,
Simoni Betancourt, Esperanza 257 131, 162, 164–165, 171, 242, 511n5, 527n10
Simoni Betancourt, Gloria 171, 254, 289, 308, 357, 363, 379, Thomas, Hugh 9, 72, 173, 497n8,
249, 256–258, 269, 273–274, 482–485, 487–489, 497n3, 502n14, 514n7, 523n1
279, 286, 298–299, 322–323, 497n4, 499n32, 499n34, Thulin, Anders 500n49
328, 353–354, 368, 371, 390, 500n37, 500n40, 500n49, Tietz, Victor 155
395, 401, 416, 433, 441, 474, 500n50, 500n54, 503n6, The Times (London) 259, 260,
478, 515n4, 516n10, 529– 504n13, 504n17, 514n6 262, 263, 277–278, 300, 475,
530n12, 534n2 The Steinitz Papers 26 515n6
Simpson’s Divan Chess Club 44 Steinmeyer, Robert Henry 510– Timman, Ian 347
Sixth American Chess Congress 511n18 Tolush, Alexander 413
25, 499–500n36 Stendal (Marie-Henri Beyle) 397 “Topics of the [New York] Times”
64 (magazine) 365, 426, 433 La Stratégie 22, 29, 142, 149 121, 150, 308; see also New York
Sizonenko, Alexander 4, 421, Suárez, Jesús S. 5, 514n14, 524n8, Times
526n2, 527n4 528n14, 531n8 Torán, Román 371
Skakbladet 212 Sultan Khan, Mir 380 Torre, Carlos 287–288, 291, 296,
Skjoldager, Per 195, 518ch11n39, Sumner Welles, Benjamin 514n20 301
518ch12n5 The Sun 223 Torres, Joaquín 376
Slav Defense 392, 411 Torriente, Cosme de la 23, 97, 137,
Smith, Magnus 123, 127, 507n2 Tabernilla García, Francisco 504– 180–181, 222, 231, 240, 401,
Smith, Murray 136 505n20 440, 525n19, 526n30, 529n10
Smoot, Reed 379 Tacón, Miguel 9, 11 Torriente y Ceballos, Celestina de
Smyslov, Vasily 334, 348 Tarafa, José Miguel 513n22 la 23, 88
Soler, Plácido 376 Tarrasch, Siegbert 39, 43–44, 49, Toscano, Gabriel 28, 31
Soltis, Andy 1–2, 5, 270, 273, 312, 127, 131, 138–140, 142, 143, 149, Tournoi d’Echecs de Saint Sébastien
368, 417, 517n25, 517n30, 163, 168–169, 184, 193, 196, 198, 138, 149
522n20, 527n3, 527n8, 531n21 201–204, 223, 229, 260, 275, Tratado Analítico del Juego de Aje-
Sonas, Jeff 424, 527n10 280, 285, 309, 320, 328, 332, 337, drez 136
Sosnitsky, July Osipovich 203 339, 359, 415, 485, 489, 511n7, Tratado General de Ajedrez, Tomo
Sosonko, Gennadi (Genna) 462, 514n5, 514n6, 518n32, 522n16 IV: Estrategia Superior 282
526n3, 527n9, 532n19 Tarrasch Defense 114, 120 Trenton (ship) 403
Soultanbéieff, Victor 377 Tartakower, Savielly Grigorievich El Triunfo 31
Souza, Mendez 521n1 117, 184, 195–197, 260, 264, Troitsky, Alexey 423
Soviet Chess 1917–1991 2, 417, 265–267, 269, 272, 280–282, Trompovsky, Octavio 457
517n25 284–285, 292, 296–297, 301, Tropicana Cabaret 89, 270
Spanish Casino see Casino Español 309–310, 329, 331, 335, 345, Trotcha Hotel 242, 245, 514n12
Spassky, Boris 1, 404, 413 348, 357–359, 365–367, 372, Troyanovsky, Oleg 529n10
Spencer Baynes, Thomas 497n1 374–376, 424–425, 429, 431, Truffin, Regino 89, 161, 205, 237,
Spielmann, Rudolf 128, 138, 140, 435, 458, 515n8, 527n10 239, 287, 513n22, 516n18, 518n34
143, 145–146, 148–149, 168– Taubenhaus, Jean 69, 500n50, Turf, Field and Farm 25, 28, 29,
169, 172, 184, 272–273, 292, 510n18 500n37
General Index 553
Turover, Samuel 383, 385 Vázquez Bello, Clemente 287, 391, Who Was Who in America, 1897–
20 Partien Capablanca’s … see 516n18 1942 94
under Zwanzig Partien … Vedia, Enrique de 154 Whyld, Ken 98
Tylor, Theodore Henry 377, 380, Velázquez, Consuelo 329 Wiener Schachzeitung 341, 417
416–417, 427, 429, 431, 526n1, Velázquez, Diego 8 Wilson, Thomas Bright 273
527n10 Velázquez Street 504–505n20 Winawer, Simon (Szymon) 8, 198,
Verlinsky, Boris Markovich 114, 497n4
Ultime lezioni 527n5 291, 296 Windsor Magazine 64, 84, 88, 95–
Últvarp Saga (Iceland radio) 173 Vianna, Luis 521n1 96
Union Club (Havana) 8, 23, 28, Vicente Salgado (tugboat) 123, Winter, Edward 82, 94, 223, 262,
35, 41, 45, 169, 187, 193, 227, 508ch5n1 263, 327, 362, 377, 415,
237, 239, 243–244, 247, 251, Vidmar, Milan 138, 142–143, 145– 507ch3n54, 507ch4n5, 508n14,
258, 277, 287, 310, 312, 325, 356, 149, 223, 260, 267–269, 272, 510n8, 511n8, 515n7, 517–
391, 416, 497n4, 500n41, 299, 301, 311, 319, 328, 335–336, 518n32, 519n14, 520n4, 521–
513n22, 516n19 372–373, 377–378, 424, 429, 522n5, 522n7, 522n8, 522n14,
Union Club (New York) 8 431, 440, 519n18, 527n10 522n24, 523n29, 523n31, 524n5,
United States Chess Federation Viejas Estampas del Ajedrez Cubano 524n6, 528n5, 534n38
355, 470 85, 275, 503n4, 508n16 Winter, William 168, 230–231,
The Unknown Capablanca 81, 112, Vigil, Gabriel 504n20 377–378, 380, 407, 428–429,
274, 506n44, 507–508n7, 511n1, Vilardebo, José 359, 376 431, 526–527n3, 527n10
511n10, 512–513n13, 513n27, Villa Gloria 276, 529–530n12 Winter-Wood, T. 96
522n17, 524n16 Villegas, Benito 208 Wishaar-Alekhine, Grace 524n14
Upmann, Herman 244 Villergas, Juan Martínez 16, 21 Wolff, Louis Jacob 98, 471
Urcan, Olympiu 512–513n13 Visser, William M. 27–28, 94, Woodycliff College 93–94, 97–
Urrutia Lleó, Manuel 462 160, 210 98, 468
Urrutia Lleó, Miguel 462 Voigt, Herman G. 131 World Champion Capablanca 330
USSR (magazine) 244 Voltaire (ship) 304, 353
Yale University 101
Vainshtein, Samuil 405 Wahltuch, Lionel 231, 261, 269 Yates, Frederick Dewhurst 138,
Vajda, Arpad 365, 375 Walbrodt, Carl August 69, 223, 231, 261, 269, 282, 284–285,
Valderrama, Esteban 442, 462, 464 500n50, 504n17 290, 296, 358–359, 372, 376–
Valdés, Canuto 21 Walcott, George H. 136 378, 380
Valdespino Ruíz, Antón 497n5 Ward, Hatton 231 Yorkshire Evening Post 203
Valentino, Rodolfo 226, 329 Ward, William M. 102 Young, Eleonora 226, 510n9
Vallée, Felipe 164, 166 Watson, C.E. 111
Van den Bosch, Johannes 375 Watson, Charles Gilbert 268–269 Zayas, Alfredo 255, 286, 298, 395,
Van Scheltinga, Theo 454, 458 weddings: Gloria Simoni 256– 516n19, 524n9
Vargas Basulto, Francisco 398 258; Olga Chagodaeff 431, 444, Zinoviev, Grigori 423
Vázquez, Andrés Clemente 7–8, 515n4, 525n25, 530n19, 530n20 Znosko-Borovsky, Eugene 149–
13, 19–20, 22, 24, 33–48, 63– Weiss, Max 198, 500n38 150, 184, 190–191, 194, 197, 199,
64, 67, 74–75, 108, 136, 497n2, Welles, Dana 510n8; see also Rose- 263, 269, 330, 350, 377, 388,
497n4, 498n19, 498n20, 498– bault, F.D. 435, 439
499n24, 499n27, 499n30, Die Welt von Gestern (The World Zubarev, Nicolai 292–293, 296
499n36, 500n46, 500n51, of Yesterday) 205 Zukertort, Johan 25–27, 30–31, 37,
500n54, 502n14, 503–504n8, Western World (ship) 322 44, 49, 165
504n13, 504n15, 504n18, Weyler, Valeriano 70 Zwanzig Partien Capablanca’s aus
506n32, 506n33, 507n53, Wheatcroft, George 452 seiner letzten Europe-tournée 197
509n4 Whitaker, Norman T. 82, 176 Zweig, Stefan 205

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José Raúl Capablanca

José Raúl Capablanca

McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers

FIRST EDITION, first printing

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGUING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

ISBN 978-0-7864-7004-4 (library binding : acid free paper)

BRITISH LIBRARY CATALOGUING DATA ARE AVAILABLE

© 2015 Miguel A. Sánchez. All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form

Edited by Robert Franklin

Printed in the United States of America

McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers

Foreword by Andy Soltis 1

1. Havana the Eldorado of Chess 7

Appendix II: “The Illness and Death of José Raúl Capablanca,”

Why do we continue to be fascinated by José Capablanca?

A Note on the Text

Thus begins the Capablanca legend:

Félix Sicre–Paul Morphy [C78]

Paul Morphy (Blindfold)–José María Sicre [C01]

Paul Morphy–Celso Golmayo Zúpide [C38]

Wilhelm Steinitz–Dionisio M. Martínez [C25]

Dionisio M. Martínez–Johannes H. Zukertort [C52]

Celso Golmayo Zúpide–Wilhelm Steinitz [C45]

Celso Golmayo Zúpide–Wilhelm Steinitz [C45]

Brooklyn Chess Chronicle. For instance, instead of

Blackburne, Iglesias and Gómez–Mackenzie,

George H. Mackenzie–Andrés C. Vázquez [C02]

William Steinitz–Vicente Martínez Carvajal [C30]

William Steinitz–Vicente Martínez Carvajal [C30]

George Mackenzie–Enrique Ostolaza [C30]

Guillermo López–Mikhail Chigorin

William Steinitz–Mikhail Chigorin [D02]

Vázquez describes the opening festivities in a colorful way:

William Steinitz–Mikhail Chigorin [D55]

Mikhail Chigorin–William Steinitz [C34]

wDwDwDwD 1. e4 e5 2. f4 e×f4 3. Nf3 Nf6 4. e5 Nh5 5. Be2 g6 6. d4

come as no surprise that Capa-

Ramón Iglesias–Capablanca [C42]

Albert Ettlinger–Capablanca [C45]

Capablanca–Carlos Echevarría [B01]

Capablanca–Juan Corzo [C47]

Juan Corzo–Capablanca [C52]

Capablanca–Juan Corzo [A80]

Juan Corzo–Capablanca [C49]

Capablanca–Juan Corzo [D05]

Juan Corzo–Capablanca [C25]

Capablanca–Juan Corzo [A83]

Juan Corzo–Capablanca [C25]

Capablanca–Juan Corzo [A83]

Juan Corzo–Capablanca [C42]

Capablanca–Juan Corzo [D05]

Juan Corzo–Capablanca [C67]

At that 1902 “Cuba championship” tournament Capablanca seemed very distracted.

Enrique Corzo–Capablanca [C10]

On the other side of the page:

The game Helms was referring to is the following:

Capablanca–Joseph D. Redding [C43]

Robert Raubitschek–Capablanca [C38]