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COVENT GARDEN INSPIRATION
We have already seen that the Chess Masters whom the Fortnightly Review have in a sense made immortal are Lowenthal, Rosenthal, Horwitz, Zukertort, Winawer and Hoffer, the writers seem to have forgotten his Lordship and Purssell’s great philosopher who have furnished more fun than all the above put together, and where is the typical “P.F.G.” (pale faced German), “California” and the “fidgetty W.” and Hoffer’s “Estimate of the value of English Players” (1887). Surely half the wit of these Fortnightly Review contributors could have made an article of these alone without the addition of more serious persons such as Steinitz, Blackburne and Bird.
“A foreign estimate of the value of English Chess Players from Covent Garden” was the title of a little skit which caused some amusement five or six years ago. It commenced with Blackburne 5 pounds for a blindfold performance, Gunsberg 2 pounds: 2 : 0 : 0 for a simultaneous performance, and ranges downwards till it comes to two pence for the price of Pollock’s proverbial pint of porter. Bird could always be bought for a glass of whiskey hot and a pleasing nod, and Mason could be got rid of on an emergency for half-a-crown. Even poor Zukertort at the B. C. towards the last stood very low. One evening, after the ordinary dinner at this famous chess club, the whole of the Amateur Company, with no exception, adjourned to cards and billiards, Zukertort, Blackburne, Gunsberg and Bird remained alone in the chess room, the last named proposed a match between themselves, the others less enthusiastic did not fall in and after a desultory conversation of half-an-hour or so the little band dispersed.
The article about “Fleas and Nits” which well nigh led to the extinction of the Chess Monthly emanated from Covent Garden and was aimed at Mr. Steinitz.
Steinitz has perhaps been the subject of more jokes than any other chess player. From the day when he first assumed the responsibilities of chess editorship, and as some are wont to say “kept watch over The Field Office lest it should disappear before the morning,” to the time when he unfortunately left us for America he was nearly always a fertile theme of amusement with the joke-loving members of the chess fraternity. We fancy we see him now with pen behind the ear pacing up and down the Divan rooms with horried start and whisper dread, saying, “O have you seen my article! How many K’s in occur? and is there more than one H in editor?” He has improved since then and is a match for Hoffer. The clocks (implements of torture I call them) used for regulating the time consumed in chess matches have led to several facetious stories at Steinitz’s expense, some, however, not too good natured. Still it was curious to see his gymnastics, mental and physical, between observance of the chess board and the time pieces on occasions when time run short and indeed sometimes when it did not.