to the effect that kings must be on their guard
against the persons who surround them, and
must take care not to let a bad use be made
of their best intentions.
It is hard to believe that any one can ever have
guessed chess, or made it out when proposed as
an enigma. Nevertheless, Borzu (otherwise
called Buzurdjemehir "for short"), physician
and vizier to Noushiwan the First, and tutor to
his son Hermouz, divined the secret.
King Hind had sent to Borzu's royal master
a chess-board, chessmen, and a letter.
"O king," it said, "may you live as long as
the celestial spheres revolve in their orbits! I
entreat you to examine this chess-board, and to
set it before the eyes of the greatest scholars
and sages in your kingdom. Let them carefully
deliberate together, and discover, if they can,
the principles of this marvellous game. If you
succeed in penetrating the mystery, I promise to
acknowledge myself your majesty's tributary; if
not, as it will be clear that you are our inferiors
in knowledge, it is you who ought to pay me
tribute: for man's veritable grandeur consists in
his knowledge, and not in treasures or territory,
which are only fleeting and perishable things."
All the court counsellors and ministers set to
work; but the enigma appeared insoluble. The
seven days' reflection required by the king had
nearly elapsed, when Borzu rose, and undertook
to discover, all alone by himself, the clue to it
in a day and a night. He shut himself up, tried
each piece on the board, comparing the probable
movements of each, until the whole and complete
truth flashed upon him. The court then
assembled, King Hind's envoy was introduced, and
Borzu gave a formal lecture on chess, explaining
to his wondering audience the arrangement of
the pieces and their march. Noushiwan, in
recompense, loaded him with favours and dignities.
Schaccophilists, devotees to chess, have
manifested themselves, under divers forms, at sundry
epochs. Hyde relates that the merchants who
frequented German fairs, when their business
was pressing and did not leave them time to
finish a game, used to put it off till the fair
following; and, that there might be no mistake or
cavil, they sent for a notary to draw up a record
of the respective situations of the men on the
chess-board. A Duke of Brunswick named one
of his towns Schachstadt, or Chesstown, at the
same time granting it certain privileges, on
condition that the head of every family should keep
a chess-board in his house, to be able to challenge
every stranger who arrived.
Strobeck, although only a village, near
Halberstadt, in the province of Saxony, Prussia,
has a still greater right to rank as a chess
metropolis.
At the beginning of the eleventh century, by
order of Henry the Second of Germany, the
Count of Gungelin was delivered into the custody
of the Bishop of Ströbeck, with injunctions to
keep him in close confinement. He was
imprisoned, accordingly, in an old tower which still
exists. To beguile his captivity, Gungelin, who
was passionately fond of chess, made himself a
chess-board and two sets of men. At first, he
played alone, with himself, making his right
hand the adversary of his left. Afterwards, he
taught the game to the peasants, who took their
turn in guarding the door of his cell. Once
initiated in the mystery, they communicated it
to their wives and children.
The taste soon grew into an universal passion;
it became a matter of prime necessity. Ströbeck
could not exist without chess, which got mixed
up with the habits of every-day life, became a
branch of education, and was transmitted from
generation to generation up to the present day.
At the close of every year, a chess competitive
meeting is customary. Forty-eight candidates
usually take part in this tournay. The victor of
the victors gains the prize generally a handsome
set of chessmen and is conducted in
triumph home to his family, whose pride and
glory he becomes thenceforward. When a lass
of the village marries a stranger, before her
departure she is bound to play a game with the
chief magistrate of the parish, to prove that she
has not forgotten the old local traditions. The
ceremony mostly takes place at the inn
appropriately adorned with the sign of The Chessmen.
Louis the Thirteenth, who detested games of
chance, and would not allow them to be played at
court, was so passionately addicted to chess, that
he played even when riding in his carriage. Each
man had a pin at his foot, which, being stuck into
a padded chess-board, resisted the joltings of the
royal vehicle.
With some individuals the love of chess has
been strong enough to counterbalance the fear of
dying. John Frederick, Elector of Saxony, made
prisoner in 1547, by Charles the Fifth, was
playing chess with his fellow-captive, Ernest of
Brunswick, when he received the news of his
condemnation to death. After a few remarks
on the irregularity of the emperor's proceedings,
he quietly continued his game. On
winning it, he expressed his satisfaction, and then
retired, to devote himself to the religious
exercises befitting his situation.
A Turkish aga, who had incurred the Sultan's
displeasure, received his sentence to death while
playing chess. The game was far advanced, the
position interesting, and he entreated the officers
to allow him to finish it. They consented; and
he won. Then, after thanking them for their
politeness, he kissed the fatal document, and
quietly submitted to his fate.
When a messenger informed Alamin Ben
Haroun that the city of Bagdad was besieged,
"Hold your tongue," said the caliph; "don't
you see that I am on the point of giving a checkmate?"
The same potentate sought out the
best players of his empire, brought them to
court, and pensioned them. His father,
Abdallah the Third, used to bewail his sad fate, in
having more capacity for governing nations
than for moving chessmen.
Some players have such a taste for the difficult
and the complex, that every-day chess is
not a sufficiently elaborate puzzle. They must
have chess with variations, the original melody
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