Modern chess is a game of preparation.
Players spend hours studying openings. They memorize engine lines twenty moves deep. They know exactly where their pieces belong and exactly what they’re trying to achieve.
Chess in 1834 was different.
Very different.
Back then, if you thought an attack looked promising, you attacked. Likewise, if a sacrifice looked interesting, you sacrificed. Sometimes players would throw pieces at the enemy king with what looked like complete disregard for their own material.
And somehow it worked.
Few games show that better than this incredible battle between Alexander McDonnell and Louis-Charles de La Bourdonnais.
These weren’t ordinary players either.
At the time, they were considered two of the strongest players in the world. Their famous series of matches in 1834 helped shape competitive chess as we know it today. As a result, the games became famous for their aggression, creativity, and complete unpredictability.
This game might be the wildest of the lot.
At one point McDonnell gives up a bishop.
Later he loses his queen.
Then he wins anyway.
Let’s take a look.
The Players

Alexander McDonnell was born in Ireland and became one of the strongest chess players of the early nineteenth century. Although he wasn’t a professional chess player in the modern sense, his strength over the board quickly earned him a reputation as one of Europe’s elite competitors. Away from chess, he worked as a merchant and businessman, making his achievements even more impressive.

Meanwhile, his opponent Louis-Charles de La Bourdonnais was widely regarded as the strongest player in the world. The French master dominated the chess scene during this period and became feared for his tactical vision and relentless attacking style.
When these two sat down to play, fireworks were almost guaranteed.
This game delivers exactly that.
The Bishop Goes Flying

Stop for a second.
We’re on move eight.
Move eight.
Most modern games haven’t even properly started by this point, yet McDonnell has already sacrificed a bishop.
The move 8…Bxf2+ throws a bishop directly into White’s position and immediately forces the king to make a decision. To a beginner, this looks completely insane. After all, why would you willingly give away a bishop for a single pawn?
The answer is something every improving chess player needs to understand.
Material isn’t everything.
In fact, activity, development, and king safety can often matter far more than a single piece. McDonnell isn’t sacrificing because he enjoys losing material. Instead, he’s giving up the bishop because he believes the attack is worth more. Once White’s king starts moving, Black suddenly has targets to attack, and that’s exactly what he wants.
This is one of the biggest differences between beginners and stronger players. While newer players often focus entirely on counting pieces, experienced players usually ask a different question.
How active are my pieces?
McDonnell’s answer was simple.
Active enough to throw a bishop away.
White Takes The Queen

Now things get even crazier.
La Bourdonnais captures Black’s queen.
If you’re new to chess, this should immediately set off alarm bells. The queen is usually the most powerful piece on the board. Therefore, losing it is normally a disaster.
So here’s the remarkable part.
McDonnell doesn’t panic.
Instead, he responds with 14…Ne3+ and immediately checks the king.
Think about that for a moment.
Most players would still be staring at the board wondering how they lost their queen. Meanwhile, McDonnell is already looking for the next attack.
This is a great lesson in forcing moves. Checks, captures, and threats force your opponent to respond. As a result, they don’t get to play their own ideas because they’re too busy dealing with yours.
Even though McDonnell has just lost his queen, he’s still dictating the game. White isn’t attacking anymore.
Instead, White is defending.
That’s a remarkable thing to achieve when you’re down so much material, and it shows just how much faith McDonnell had in his attack.
Down Material And Loving It

Take a moment and count the material.
Seriously.
Pause and look at the board.
At first glance, White appears to be winning. Black’s queen is gone and the material count seems to favour La Bourdonnais quite comfortably.
However, chess isn’t played on a spreadsheet.
Instead, look at the entire position.
Look at the kings. Then examine the activity of the pieces. More importantly, pay attention to how quickly Black’s forces can jump into the attack.
Suddenly the position starts to feel very different.
This is where many beginners get trapped. They win material and immediately assume the difficult part is over. In reality, winning material creates a new responsibility. You still have to survive long enough to enjoy it.
La Bourdonnais has the extra material.
McDonnell has the initiative.
And in attacking chess, the initiative can be a terrifying thing.
The Knights Take Over

This is the point where McDonnell’s knights start causing absolute havoc.
Before looking at the move, take a second and study White’s position.
What pieces are protected?
What pieces aren’t?
Can you spot anything loose?
One of the most useful chess concepts is something called hanging material. A hanging piece is simply a piece that isn’t properly defended. Strong players spend entire games looking for these weaknesses because they often lead directly to tactics.
When McDonnell plays 24…Nxd2, the pressure starts becoming overwhelming. His pieces seem to be everywhere at once. Every move creates another threat. Meanwhile, every threat creates another problem.
This is one of those positions where the board suddenly feels smaller. White still has pieces, but they aren’t working together. Black’s pieces, on the other hand, are coordinating beautifully.
That’s a huge difference.
And because of that, the attack keeps growing stronger.
The Attack Gets Worse

By this stage, White’s king is in serious trouble.
The move 31…Nc4+ is exactly the kind of move that makes old master games so much fun to study. Not only does the knight arrive with check, but it also creates fresh complications across the board.
Here’s something worth remembering.
A king under attack rarely gets to play its own game.
Instead, every move becomes a reaction.
Every turn is spent answering threats.
Consequently, every decision is made under pressure.
That’s exactly what’s happening here.
Meanwhile, McDonnell’s pieces are working together beautifully. The rooks are active, the knights are dominating key squares, and White’s king keeps getting pushed further into danger. As a result, the position becomes harder and harder to defend.
This is what a successful attack looks like.
Not necessarily a flashy checkmate.
Rather, it’s control.
Pressure.
And a position that gets worse with every move.
The End

The game doesn’t end with a spectacular queen sacrifice.
Nor does it end with checkmate.
Instead, it ends the way many high-level games end.
With resignation.
At first, that can seem strange to newer players. Why resign if you’re not checkmated?
The answer is simple.
Experienced players know when a position has collapsed.
Look at Black’s pieces. Then focus on White’s king. Finally, consider the threats surrounding the position.
The position is falling apart.
McDonnell’s attack has finally reached the point where there simply isn’t a good defence left. The pieces that looked so active earlier have now become overwhelming.
And that’s the beauty of this game.
McDonnell sacrificed a bishop on move eight.
Lost his queen.
Fought while down material.
Then slowly squeezed the life out of White’s position through activity, initiative, and relentless pressure.
Nearly two centuries later, it still feels fresh.
It still feels dangerous.
And perhaps most importantly, it reminds us that chess wasn’t always about perfect engine evaluations and computer preparation.
Final Thoughts
One of the biggest mistakes people make when studying old chess games is assuming the players were somehow weaker because they lived before engines.
Games like this prove the opposite.
Sure, modern grandmasters would probably find improvements. They would point out inaccuracies and show cleaner ways to convert advantages. However, that’s easy when you have a computer evaluating every position.
What computers can’t teach is courage.
McDonnell sacrificed a bishop on move eight. He gave up his queen. Throughout the game, he trusted that active pieces and constant pressure would provide enough compensation. Most players would have backed down at some point. Others would have looked for a safe draw. McDonnell chose a different path.
He kept attacking.
And somehow it worked.
That’s why this game is still worth studying nearly 200 years later. Not because every move is perfect, but because it captures something that can sometimes get lost in modern chess. The willingness to take risks. The confidence to trust your ideas. The understanding that activity can occasionally matter more than material.
If you’re a newer player, the lesson isn’t to start sacrificing every piece you own and hope for the best.
Instead, look beyond the material count.
Look at piece activity.
Consider king safety.
Think about initiative.
Most importantly, don’t be afraid to play aggressively when the position calls for it.
Because sometimes the most memorable games aren’t the perfect ones.
They’re the wild ones.
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