by John Hilbert, 146pp. (Moravian, 2009)
Philip Richardson (1841-1920) is almost unknown today, but was one of the USA's top two or three players in the latter part of the nineteenth century. Although born in London in 1841 he arrived, with his family, in the USA in 1851 and eventually took up residence in Brooklyn. This book details Richardson's chess career with both a biographical essay and 193 of Richardson's games and game fragments. In addition the book contains twenty-four problems and two endgame studies which he composed. The material for the book has been collated by researching contemporary American newspaper chess columns and chess magazines.
From the introduction by John S. Hilbert:
"Few lovers of chess today remember Philip Richardson (1841-I920). The neglect is understandable, although unfortunate. After all, the man lived a quiet life as a photographer, recording the impressions of other lives while leaving himself out of the picture.
By all accounts, Richardson was a gentle man, in the fullest sense of both words: dedicated, focused, modest, intelligent, considerate of others and unassuming. Hardly the stuff of which great chess reputations, for better or worse, are often made.
More than that, one will search largely in vain for his name among the tournament or match lists. Check the largest of the commercial databases, and you won't find more than a dozen of his games-and not all of those correctly identified or attributed to him.
Nor is Richardson remembered today as a problemist, although he did publish some interesting pieces, a selection of which appear in this book. But during his lifetime, Richardson was considered one of the strongest players in the United States.
According to published sources, George H. Mackenzie, the Scottish player who came to these shores in 1863 and who stood ahead of all other active players in the nation for nearly three decades, claimed Richardson was the most formidable opponent he met in this country.
It was, in fact, Mackenzie who gave Richardson his nickname as "the Stormy Petrel", a reference not to the bird, of course, but to the image of one who brings trouble with him-in short, for purposes of chess, a dangerous player (..) "