horizon some years previously as a player of surpassing brilliance by
defeating Turgieff, when the great Russian master had visited London and
had played twelve simultaneous boards at the London Chess Club. Crewe was
the only player of the twelve to win his game, and he did so by a
masterly concealed ending in which he handled his pawns with consummate
skill, proffering the sacrifice of a bishop with such art that Turgieff
fell into the trap, and was mated in five subsequent moves. Crewe proved
this was not merely a lucky win by defeating the young South American
champion, Caranda, shortly afterwards, when the latter visited England
and played a series of exhibition games in London on his way to Moscow,
where he was engaged in the championship tourney. Once again it was
masterly pawn play which brought Crewe a fine victory, and aged chess
enthusiasts who followed every move of the game with trembling
excitement, declared afterwards that Crewe's conception of this
particular game had not been equalled since Morphy died.

They predicted a dazzling chess career for Crewe, but he disappointed
their aged hearts by retiring suddenly from match chess, and they mourned
him as one unworthy of his great chess gifts and the high hopes they had
placed in him. But, as a matter of fact, Crewe's intellect was too
vigorous and active to be satisfied with the triumphs of chess, and his
disappearance from the chess world was contemporary with his entrance
into detective work, which appealed to his imagination and found scope
for his restless mental activity. But if detective work so absorbed him
that he gave up match chess entirely, he still retained an interest in
the science of chess, reserving problem play for his spare moments, and,
when not immersed in the solution of a problem of human mystery, he would
turn to the chessboard and seek solace and relaxation in the mysteries of
an intricate "four-mover."