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Chessville
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Thompson's Duel (A haunting tale of
Chess, Grimbles and an Errant Monk) We were arranging the annual pub tournament between our local hostelry, The Greene Manne in the village of Cholney, and The Ruddy Duck in the neighbouring hamlet of Sharpe Ende. Everyone was looking forward to a friendly but competitive evening of chess, dominoes, draughts, and skittles. A further attraction was the traditional game of Grimbles, an ancient country pastime peculiar to the region. You will appreciate how old Grimbles is if I tell you that Morris Dancing is descended from it. The tournament was part of the celebrations of the area’s traditional feast of Wicca’s Eve when beacons and bonfires were lit and effigies of witches were paraded around the villages. The Grimbles teams had to be made up from people born in the area, although each side was allowed one additional person who came from elsewhere, known as the Outsider. As the most recent newcomer I had been given first chance of being the Outsider for The Greene Manne. However a short trial soon showed that I had no aptitude whatsoever for the game, and so the honour passed to my old friend and chess opponent Donald Brian Evans, usually known as DB, who had in fact resided in the locality for several years. His selection was perhaps more appropriate as he always provided several flagons of his rather potent home-brewed beer as his contribution to the festivities. DB’s “lubrication”, as it was affectionately known, invariably added immensely to the jollity of the occasion. During the preliminary discussions between the two pubs we learned that The Ruddy Duck was fielding a new player, and when I heard this I had a strange sense of foreboding. We were informed that a visitor was staying in Sharpe Ende, someone who had shown unusual ability at Grimbles, and he was to be the Outsider in their team. “Says he knows you” we were told, “chap called Thompson, plays chess as well apparently.” I groaned inwardly when I heard this. Judging by the expression on DB’s face so did he. We recalled that when Thompson had unexpectedly visited The Greene Manne some months ago we had mentioned the chess activities at The Ruddy Duck. Somehow he must have worked himself in there. A few days later when the lists of players were exchanged it was no surprise to discover that Thompson was on board one of The Ruddy Duck’s chess team as well as representing them as the Outsider at Grimbles. As Thompson was permanently banned from The Greene Manne after upsetting the resident barmaid in a big way it was perhaps fortunate that the tournament was being held that year at Sharpe Ende. Thompson was most definitely persona non grata in Cholney. DB was board one at chess for The Greene Manne. He was unperturbed at being drawn against Thompson, he said he had something special lined up for him. And so Wicca’s Eve approached and the scene was set for a memorable game of Grimbles. The contest was controlled by an arbiter, a slightly sinister figure known as the Marster who wielded a large heavy staff which he banged on the floor to punctuate his instructions and to give the rhythm for some of the more intricate movements. The Marster wore a long frock coat and a top hat. The players wore traditional country garb, consisting of white or black smocks, thigh-length leather boots, soft hats and long gaily-coloured scarves tied around the neck. Thin sticks of wood known as slatters were also carried by the contestants. Strangely enough the game was played out on an eight by eight grid, and some said that it was related to chess. Others found a resemblance to the martial art of Kendo fencing because of the movements involving the slatters. On a frosty February night we made our way to the gaily decorated village hall at Sharpe Ende where the floor had been marked out with the traditional eight by eight Grimbles grid. After the usual cheery welcome from the habitues of the Ruddy Duck and introductory drinks to warm us up, the teams lined up for the start of the Grimbles match. As the rules are so complicated I will not even attempt to describe to you the course of the game. But I will long remember the sight of DB and Thompson solemnly wending their way through the intricate Grimbles manoeuvres as though they were participating in a game of living chess, doffing their hats and courteously striking their slatters together as they passed each other. As usual the game started in a quiet and genteel manner with many exchanges of pleasantries and compliments between the two sides. Events were punctuated by the Marsters instructions and rulings - “No Donald, you cannot scrunge after a blanksome”...... “Will’m, you must dobble in the A corner.” Then the first break was called and as the contestants left the grid you could feel the tension which had built up as they cautiously eyed each other from opposite sides of the room. After a few minutes the game resumed and now things were warming up. Cries of instruction and exhortation began to come from the team captains - “Trundle!”.....“Double slatters!!” - as the pressure increased. By the time the second break came the players were obviously glad of the rest, a little breathless from their exertions. As they intermingled on leaving the grid somebody seemed to catch Thompson’s arm and his slatter poked the rather large posterior of a massive bearded player known as Big Reuben. Big Reuben was enraged by this slight to his dignity and turned on Thompson with a growl, throwing his slatter on the floor between them. Ever polite, Thompson bent over and picked it up and handed it back to Reuben, saying “Sorry about that, mate.” “Crikey Thompson” said DB, “you’ve done it now, that was a challenge to a duel and when you picked up the slatter you accepted!” Thompson took a step back and turned pale as the huge figure of Big Reuben advanced on him, arms outstretched, his steps punctuated by bangs from the Marster’s staff. Then he went white when Reuben grabbed hold of him and lifted him into the air. For a few seconds everybody froze into silence as Thompson struggled in the giant’s grip. Suddenly Reuben planted a great hairy kiss on the astonished Thompson’s cheek and gently placed him back on his feet, grinning hugely. As we, and then Thompson, realised that he had been set up, there was a shout of laughter, in which Thompson shortly joined. Reuben shook Thompson’s hand and boomed “No offence, mate.” He patted Thompson affectionately on the head and disappeared in the direction of the drinks table. After a few more minutes the Grimbles game restarted and, following a vigorous third session, came to an end. The Marster carefully scrutinised his notes for a short time and then announced that after a very close match The Greene Manne team had narrowly won by half a smidgin. The two teams threw their hats and slatters into the air and as they clattered to the floor everyone applauded hysterically. It was generally agreed that it had been the best night’s Grimbles for many a year, comparable even with the legendary game of eighteen ninety three. There was then a break for feasting, drinking and general merriment as country songs were sung, party pieces were performed and ghost stories were told. A particularly ghastly story, narrated with the lights out by Sharpe Ende’s oldest inhabitant, concerned a fourteenth century monk from the local monastery who had fallen into various disgraceful practices (unrepeatable in this tale.) For his sins he had been condemned to walk the country roads of the area for all eternity as the Errant Monk. I noticed that Thompson appeared to be greatly interested in this piece of local folklore. After that it was time for the rest of the games. You would have thought that after the evening’s eventful game of Grimbles anything else could only be an anticlimax but Thompson and DB managed to produce an interesting game of chess to round off the tournament. Thompson was White and was not expected to play his favourite Polish opening as he knew DB would be conversant with it. DB also knew that Thompson favoured the knight to knight five variation of the Two Knights Defence and had told me in confidence that he had something prepared for this, should it be played. However it turned out that Thompson had other ideas. Thompson’s first move was pawn to king four and DB responded with pawn to king four. There followed knight to king bishop three, knight to queen bishop three and then Thompson developed his bishop to knight five. Obviously Thompson knew that DB remembered his predilection for playing against the Two Knights Defence and had decided to play something different. DB seemed unworried and nudged the bishop with pawn to queen rook three. After bishop to rook four DB played knight to bishop three, Thompson castled, then DB attacked the bishop again with pawn to queen’s knight four. White’s move was clear - bishop to knight three, but Thompson paused and thought for a while after DB’s next move, pawn to queen three. Although the opening had been a Ruy Lopez it had now turned into something similar to the Two Knights Defence and Thompson, although slightly suspicious, was unable to resist knight to knight five. Without hesitation DB played pawn to queen four and Thompson replied pawn takes pawn. After DB’s immediate knight to queen five Thompson, looking as though he suspected he had fallen for a prepared line, decided to move the presumptuous knight with pawn to queen’s bishop three. Still unperturbed, DB went knight takes bishop and after queen takes knight pushed Thompson’s knight away with pawn to rook three. Thompson’s knight returned to bishop three and DB, eyeing his opponent’s kingside, replied with bishop to queen three. Rook to king one was Thompson’s next move and DB immediately offered another pawn by castling kingside. After some thought Thompson decided to accept the offer with knight takes pawn, allowing DB to pin him with rook to king one. Pawn to queen four protected the advanced knight and opened up a line for the queen bishop, but was met by knight to knight five. Thompson decided to make an escape for his king with pawn to knight three and DB played bishop takes knight. Pawn takes bishop was met by knight takes pawn and now Thompson had to deal with the threat of knight to bishop six check. Knight to queen two appeared to solve the immediate problem and was instantly met with bishop to rook six. Now Thompson rather incautiously played pawn to king bishop four (we afterwards thought rook to king three might have been better) and DB did not have to think about knight to queen six. Rook takes rook seemed to be the only move but DB’s reply queen takes rook threatened mate. As queen to queen one didn’t help, Thompson played knight to bishop three and then after queen to king seven, realising that mate was unstoppable, congratulated his opponent and resigned. So ended another match between the two pubs, and after the scores of all the games were added up the result was declared an honourable draw. The rest of the evening was spent in good humoured banter, a lot of toasts, and the consumption of a considerable amount of food and drink. As the night drew to a close with everyone in high spirits and engaging in hearty handshakes and farewells, I noticed that Thompson spent some time talking with Big Reuben. The conversation was accompanied by much waving of hands and surreptitious glances towards DB and myself. I remarked that I thought Thompson was up to something. As we made our way out of the hall I asked DB if he knew who had accidentally nudged Thompson’s arm during the Grimbles match. DB put his hands in his pockets, looked innocently up at the ceiling and whistled soundlessly. I have my suspicions though. I was staying that night with DB and as it was still a clear but frosty moonlit night we decided to walk the short distance to Cholney, politely refusing the many offers of lifts which came our way. We had gone only a few paces along the road when we were somewhat startled to hear footsteps behind us. Then Thompson caught up to us. “I fancied a stroll” he said, “mind if I walk with you for a while?” My earlier suspicions were heightened, and although I had an ominous feeling that Thompson was about to precipitate yet again some unusual or unnatural event, we agreed to his company and went on our way, discussing the evening’s games. As we talked my mind was racing, wondering what Thompson’s next move was going to be. We came to a corner of the lane, there was a sudden gust of icy wind and we were startled by the sight of a huge cowled figure which appeared to materialise out of the hedge. Thompson reacted rather theatrically - “Oh, look” he said unconvincingly, “it’s the Errant Monk!” Realising that this was a trick by Thompson and his accomplice, and totally unfazed, DB cried “Push off, you silly ghost,” and I added sarcastically “Get thee hence foul spirit, you can’t scare us.” We were unimpressed when, after a few threatening gestures at which we laughed derisively, the figure grunted in frustration, threw its arms in the air and disappeared back into the hedge. Just as it vanished another large figure dressed in a cowl jumped out from the other side of the lane, slipped on a patch of frost and grabbed Thompson as it tried to remain upright. For a brief moment Thompson and the apparition seemed to dance a strange jig in the moonlight as they fought to maintain their balance, clutching at each other as their feet skidded on the slippery surface of the road, then they crashed to the ground together. A string of curses rent the night air in the unmistakable tones of Big Reuben as the pair struggled to their feet, still holding on to each other for support. Thompson then began to berate the unfortunate Big Reuben for spoiling his jape when DB interrupted - “Hang on a minute, if this is Big Reuben, who was that first monk?” Thompson fell silent, Big Reuben pushed back his cowl and scratched his head. DB and I looked at each other briefly then without another word set off as fast as we could in the direction of Cholney - and we didn’t look back. I believe Thompson and his companion made off just as rapidly towards Sharpe Ende. Although Big Reuben is still around, looking rather sheepish whenever I see him, there has been no sign of Thompson since that night. Maybe he met up with the Errant Monk again after parting from Big Reuben, and maybe he’ll turn up to haunt me once more at some time. ------------------------------------- Thompson - DB 1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.Bb5 a6 4.Ba4 Nf6 5.O-O b5 6.Bb3 d6 7.Ng5 d5 8.exd5 Nd4 9.c3 Nxb3 10.Qxb3 h6 11.Nf3 Bd6 12.Re1 O-O 13.Nxe5 Re8 14.d4 Ng4 15.g3 Bxe5 16.dxe5 Nxe5 17.Nd2 Bh3 18.f4 Nd3 19.Rxe8+ Qxe8 20.Nf3 Qe2 (0-1) -------------------------------------- A Note On Grimbles The ancient game of Grimbles (a precursor of Morris Dancing) is played by teams of five controlled by an arbiter known as “The Marster.” However it has many similarities to chess, being played on an eight by eight chequered layout. The manoeuvre known as “trundling” is performed along the long diagonals, much like a Bishop fianchetto. For a full trundle all of the relevant diagonal squares have to be empty and the move must be announced beforehand. The appropriate player then proceeds along the diagonal to gain a point. By tradition, as a player trundles all the other players hold their sticks (known as slatters) in the air to indicate no interference. If all the squares are not clear then a part trundle may be performed but the move must be completed by “dobbling” within four further moves to score a half point. A similar move is “naddling” whereby a contestant may negotiate the empty squares along one side of the layout, like a Rook’s move, although perversely there is no such thing as a part naddle. We have all seen the player who confidently grabs his opponent’s piece with the same hand with which he places his own piece when capturing. This is reminiscent of the Grimbles move known as “scrunging” in which a player may forcibly enter an unwary opponent’s square and thus banish him from the board for ten minutes of playing time. At any point during a game a team captain can claim a respite by calling for “Time Off” but this rarely occurs as it is seen as a sign of weakness. The above notes only touch upon the rules of Grimbles. Those who wish to find out more about this fascinating game are recommended to visit the Grimbles Heritage Centre at the village of Hardstone Edge in the Cotswolds. Here the full rules are displayed together with the Code of Courtesy. Demonstration matches are regularly held and there are exhibitions of historic game scores and decorative slatters. There is a Portrait Gallery of Respected Marsters and Famous Grimblers. Grimbles publications are also on sale. The Centre is dedicated to the well known player “Terrible” Armstrong who was born in the village.
Copyright R. Canter, 2000-2006
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