Edward Winter's Chess Explorations (39)

‘How often have we read, and I have been told of many more, of cases of poverty and hardship for chessplayers.’

‘ ... if there be anything debasing, degrading, mercenary, demoralizing, etc., in chess it is the promulgation of a so-called virtuous principle to the effect that wealthy amateurs for their own amusement and without paying the least consideration for their opponents’ time and labor, may suck the brains of superior chess masters who are not as well off as themselves. Or when it is gravely preached that men of talent and genius, who happen to be born without a golden spoon in their mouth, should enter the public chess arena in a starving condition merely for the entertainment of thousands of rich people all over the world who only ought to pay their money to incapable critical chess pirates and their publishers. The highest and most exhausting mental labors which combines art and science should crouch before moneyed capital with an empty stomach and be content, like the Roman gladiators, to die with the words: “Ave Caesar morituri te salutant”.’

‘The reviewer of the book [Struggle] comments on the lack of success of chess masters in practical life. He argues that the masters of strategy should be able to achieve success in business if my contention – that all contests follow the same strategic laws – is correct. I think that men like Zukertort and Steinitz would have been great in any enterprise if they would have ardently devoted themselves to it. They did achieve their purpose. Probably they never tried to gain wealth, or, at least, they did not try hard, and chessplayers – this reproach cannot be withheld – were content to buy their success as cheaply as they could. A starving man can, of course, not make a fair bargain. They were the victims of circumstance – like Mozart and Beethoven. Does it denote any great business qualities in Paderewski that he makes a hundred times more money than some of his predecessors no less distinguished in their day?’

‘If Idealism means the thrusting of mediocrity into the foreground to the disparagement of perfection, and the failure to display any enthusiasm for the idea of chess-play, then Das Wochenschach bears away the palm for Idealism. If, on the other hand, Materialism implies the striving to raise the social position of the chess master, to extend a true understanding of the deep mentality of chess-play, to get the master treated with some recognition of his rights as a man, instead of being neglected in poverty like Morphy [sic], Harrwitz, Neumann, Steinitz, Pillsbury – then I am a Materialist.’

‘ ... Certain chessplayers who attended the funeral agreed to make themselves responsible for the funeral expenses, but as the body was removed to Birstall in Yorkshire for burial in the family grave, the expenses were considerably heavier than was anticipated and, with the money owing to the landlady, comes to a total of about £51 2s. Od.’

‘Like other great masters, Pillsbury was hampered in the development of his chess talent by the fact that it was his only source of income and at his period there was not sufficient interest manifested in this country to guarantee a livelihood to a chess master. Therefore, it was a continual struggle for him to make both ends meet. Possessing a generous disposition and holding a just pride in his association with those more blessed with worldly goods, he never placed himself under the slightest obligation, though he lamented to me that the trophies won by him in tournaments and matches were one by one parted with for their intrinsic value to meet his actual necessities.’

‘One thing I wish to place on record. In money matters; in straightness; in all things where honour was a factor, I ever found James Mason the very soul of integrity; and in this respect as well as intellectually, immeasurably superior to some of the men who smiled upon him patronizingly, and held him in contempt because of his poverty and the well-known weakness which all his friends deplored.’

‘It was just at this time that the invitation from Holland reached him – an invitation from a happy, friendly country which, having been neutral in the War, did not know the horrors of inflation, and promised the invited guest security and a congenial life after his suffocating struggle against starvation at home.’

‘[On 29 June 1941] he left his poor lodging-house never to return. He was found wandering in the streets and was arrested by the police. It was said there was a fight, and visitors subsequently observed obvious evidence of blows. He spent a bitterly cold night in the police yard, and the next day was sent to a lunatic asylum, where he died at 2 a.m., on 13 July, at the early age of 27 [sic]. The doctor’s certificate gave, as cause of death, general debility and typhoid fever, but the general verdict is – starvation. His body was cremated, and the ashes have been conveyed by the Esthonian consulate to Europe.’

‘In those last weeks, grief, sickness and poverty entirely crushed him.’

‘Fifteen days before his death, I was called on the telephone and heard Dr Alekhine ask me sadly whether I wanted to work with him on “Comments on the Best Games of the Hastings Tournament”, adding: “I am completely out of money and I have to make some to buy my cigarettes”.’

‘Professional players in the United States are bitter about their poverty and lack of recognition ...’