Chess Explorations (1)
By Edward Winter
‘History is the prelude to myth. When what actually happened, in all
its unsimplified and usually unsensational truth, is forgotten, we create
legends for ourselves. Frequently this is because the facts are not exciting
enough, or not properly understood, or because they are uncomfortable to live
with.’
C.N. 5533 quoted those wise words from page 1 of Nuremberg. Evil on Trial
by James Owen (London, 2006 and 2007). They are particularly apposite to chess
history, which is often corroded by unhistorical writers of the ‘it-makes-a-good-story’
breed who are unencumbered by concern for truth or by access to primary sources.
Myths are tenacious (some people, even today, imagine that games exist that
were played by Napoleon
Bonaparte) and are still in production in the modern era. For example, numerous
myths have been fabricated in connection with the Termination
of the first Karpov v Kasparov world title match, a subject so obscure that
no respectable writer would claim to know what really happened in Moscow in
February 1985. At least, though, an attempt can be made to eradicate the myths.
The Euwe v Alekhine re-match (1937)
The historian has to be constantly on guard against the lure of a Nice Story.
For example, because Alekhine has so frequently been criticized for denying
Capablanca a rematch (the rights and wrongs of the affair could, however, be
the subject of a book in themselves), it is tempting to contrast Alekhine’s
behaviour with that of his successor, Max Euwe. And so, innumerable authors
refer to the Dutchman’s chivalry in granting Alekhine a return match for
the world title in 1937.
For example, Richard Eales wrote on page 167 of Chess The History of a Game
(London, 1985): ‘But it was only Euwe’s sportsmanship which
gave Alekhine the chance to play the match at all.’ As reported in C.N.
2473 (see page 357 of A Chess Omnibus) Adri Plomp (Hilversum, the Netherlands)
sent us a copy of the contract signed on 28 May 1935 between Alekhine, Euwe
and the organizing committee for the 1935 match. It showed that Alekhine had
a contractual right to request a return match if he lost his title in 1935.
Below is Article 14:
Here is an English translation of Article 14:
‘If Dr Euwe wins the match in accordance with Article 4, he is first
of all obliged to play a return match against Dr Alekhine if the latter makes
such a request within six months of the last game being played. Within a further
six months thereafter Dr Alekhine must deposit 2,000 guilders with a bank
... The essential conditions for that match shall be the same as for the match
regulated by this agreement, except that the names of Alekhine and Euwe shall
be interchanged. It shall be played in Europe at a time acceptable to Dr Euwe,
in view of his profession.’
A photograph of the signing ceremony was given as the frontispiece to a contemporary
book, Tachtig dagen schaak by Carel J. Brensa:
F.D. Yates’ death
‘It made me very sad to learn, some time during the last war, that
Yates had committed suicide, apparently for financial reasons. He had probably
been too modest to ask British chessplayers for help.’
That comes from page 338 of Chess Secrets I Learned from the Masters
by Edward Lasker (New York, 1951), a book which has helped spread a number of
myths. Even at first glance, the passage above fails to impress, with its ‘apparently’
and ‘probably’ and, above all, its curious reference to ‘during
the last war’ (given that Yates died in 1932).
Frederick Dewhurst Yates
As reported in C.N. 780 (see pages 118-119 of Chess Explorations) when
‘Assiac’ (Heinrich Fraenkel) repeated the suggestion that Yates
had killed himself page 24 of the January 1963 BCM had an implacable
rebuttal by that exceptional writer D.J. Morgan:
Another author who wrote forcefully on the subject was William Winter, in his
posthumous memoirs on page 148 of CHESS, 23 February 1963:
‘An exhaustive enquiry was held by one of the most experienced coroners
in London, and it was conclusively proved that death was due to a faulty gas
fitting. Wynne-Williams, Yates’ pupil whom he had been teaching on the
very night of his death, gave evidence of his cheerful demeanour, and the
coroner went out of his way to state categorically that this was a case of
a tragic accidental death. In spite of all this some of the vile calumniators
I have mentioned before, who are always seeking for slime to throw at their
betters, sank so low as to suggest that Yates committed suicide. I have even
heard the report quite recently. No fouler lie could possibly be invented
to smirch the memory of a courageous and noble man.’
Yates died at the age of 48. On page 525 of the December 1932 BCM P.W.
Sergeant presented the facts in a way that seemed to preclude any possibility
of suicide:
‘The circumstances of his end were tragic. On the night of Tuesday,
8 November he gave a very successful exhibition at Wood Green, only dropping
one half-point in 16 games. On the following night he was in the company of
a chess friend until fairly late, and then went back to his room in Coram
Street, Bloomsbury. He was never seen alive again. It was not until Friday
morning that anxiety was felt at Coram Street as to what he might be doing;
for he was in the habit of secluding himself for many hours at a stretch when
busy with work. On Friday, however, when no answer could be got to knocks
on the door of his room, which was locked, and a smell of gas was noticed,
the door was at last broken open, and he was found dead in bed.
It came out at the inquest before the St Pancras coroner on 15 November that,
though the gas-taps in the room were securely turned off, there had been an
escape from what a gas company’s official described as an obsolete type
of fitting attached to the meter in the room. The meter, it appears, was on
the floor, and the fitting must have been accidentally dislodged. A verdict
was recorded of Accidental Death; and the coroner directed that the gas-pipes
from the room should remain in the custody of the court. The body was conveyed
to Leeds for burial on the morning of 16 November.’
Yates’ financial circumstances had unquestionably been piteous, and a
dispute about the lack of support for British chessplayers broke out in the
Chess World (1 January 1933, pages 185-186; 8 March 1933, pages 275-276;
8 April 1933, pages 313-315; May-June 1933, pages 363-364). For instance, his
friend W.H. Watts, the chess writer and publisher, noted that the death was
‘purely accidental’ but wrote on page 185:
‘... we were so infatuated by our own pettifogging antics over the
chess board that we failed to see our Champion was starving. We could not
see that poor timid Yates was literally dying in our midst, too proud to tell
us so himself. The very name Yates will be for ever a shameful memory in the
annals of British Chess.’
Frederick Dewhurst Yates
Lasker v Janowsky, Paris, 1909
A myth often disseminated even today is that the match in Paris between Lasker
and Janowsky in autumn 1909 (won by Lasker +7 –1 =2) was for the world
championship. Below, first of all, is an extract from a letter that we contributed
on pages 305-306 of the July 1985 BCM:
‘A check of all major chess periodicals for 1909 at the Royal Library
at the Hague reveals that:
a) In many magazines the idea of the match being for the world championship
is simply not mentioned (e.g. BCM pages 483 and 543).
b) Others are specific that the title was not at stake (e.g. Deutsches
Wochenschach und Berliner Schachzeitung page 382, Tijdschrift van
den Nederlandschen Schaakbond page 253). The match was played in Paris,
so it is no surprise that French-language magazines are especially precise
in refuting any world championship connection (e.g. La Stratégie
pages 352 and 407, and Revue d’échecs page 214).
c) Not a single contemporary magazine has been found that suggests the
match was for the world crown.’
Further details appeared in C.N. 2471 (see page 174 of A Chess Omnibus),
as shown below.
On 15 September 1909 Lasker and Schlechter issued a joint announcement (from
Berlin and Vienna) of their intention to play a world championship match during
the coming winter. The text was published in the Wiener Schachzeitung,
September 1909 (page 315) and the Deutsche Schachblätter, 3 October 1909
(page 85). Not surprisingly, therefore, contemporary magazines did not suggest
that the ten-game Lasker-Janowsky encounter played from 19 October to 9 November
1909 was for the world title, and some (especially the French ones) specifically
stipulated that it was not. Page 214 of the 1909 Revue d’échecs
said that it was merely ‘un second duel courtois’. Page 352
of the October 1909 La Stratégie observed that because of the Lasker-Schlechter
agreement Janowsky would have to wait for a title match until afterwards. In
its November 1909 issue (page 407) La Stratégie reported that Janowsky
was not discouraged by his heavy loss to Lasker in Paris and added: ‘we
understand that fresh discussions are already under way between the same players
for another, more important, match, one which will count for the world championship,
subject, naturally, to the Champion’s victory in his forthcoming match
against Schlechter.’
On pages 60-61 of the February 1910 La Stratégie [reproduced below]
it was reiterated that Lasker and Janowsky had not played for the title in Paris,
and the magazine published the full text of an agreement signed by the two masters
in the French capital on 12 November 1909. This was for a match that would begin
in October or November 1910, and clause 15 stated: ‘The match shall be
for the championship of the world. If Dr E. Lasker loses his title in his forthcoming
match with Schlechter, the entire present arrangement shall, naturally, be void.’
Lasker survived against Schlechter, and in Berlin on 8 November 1910 there
duly began the one and only world championship match between Lasker and Janowsky.
A photograph from that match is given below, from page 19 of Die Schachspieler
und ihre Welt by A. Bauer (Berlin, 1911):
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All articles by Edward
Winter
Edward
Winter is the editor of Chess
Notes, which was founded in January 1982 as "a forum for aficionados
to discuss all matters relating to the Royal Pastime". Since then over
5,500 items have been published, and the series has resulted in four books by
Winter: Chess
Explorations (1996), Kings,
Commoners and Knaves (1999), A
Chess Omnibus (2003) and Chess
Facts and Fables (2006). He is also the author of a monograph
on Capablanca (1989).
Chess Notes is well known for its historical research, and anyone browsing
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